Oh, I am very happy that we don't have 5' tall snow drifts to clear today because it's not above zero. It's not very windy but, still, it's bone chilling out there. I'll be wearing extra socks along with my long johns and undershirt today, that's for sure. Maybe I can knit really really really fast and finish the second wool fingerless mitt today at work. I do have some, they're even red, but they're short and I want ones that cover almost all of my hands, so I'm making some plain old new ones. I should take my gigantic teapot to work and make a huge pot of tea to drink all day. Nah, that'd be a pain to haul down there and what if I broke it. That'd be bad. Not that I use it much. I've been using my great-grandmother's little brown teapot lately. There are holes poked in the clay where the spout is attached so it's self-filtering and the lid lip is extra long so it stays in when you pour. Mostly I like it because my great-grandmother's name was Barbara, same as mine. One of these days I'll take its picture and show you.
February 2--Charles-Francois Marchal, Penelope. "Pen!" Erica's voice rang through the house, making the housekeeper, Mrs. Harris, and Cook frown, and Lucille the governess turn red. Lucille leaped up from her seat at the kitchen table and hurried to intercept her young charge. "Pen, come on," Erica called. "I've been waiting forever. Let's fish." The ten-year old burst into the kitchen, her bare feet pattering on the flagstones and her metal bait pail clunking against her leg. "Miss Erica," Lucille said, "a young lady does not shout." She clamped her hand on the girl's shoulder. "And she wears shoes." Erica wriggled out of the governess' grasp. "Lucy, you know I'd just ruin shoes down by the river. I promise I'll wear shoes tomorrow in church. Cross my heart." She matched her actions to her words, leaving a smear of dirt on her jumper. She craned to see around the governess. "Where's Pen? We were supposed to go fishing today." Lucille turned her around. "Miss Penelope is in the parlor sewing with your Aunt Grace. Mister Robert Warren is calling for tea." "Tea isn't for hours. Pen hates sewing." Erica stamped her foot. "Mister Warren should come later. What does he want anyway?" "He likes to watch Miss Penelope sew, and they talk of books and things they are both interested in." The governess' eyes looked misty and her face glowed. "Well, it sounds boring." Erica thrust out her chin. "I'm going to get Jem from the stable and go catch some fish for Cook. Tell Pen where I am if she gets bored with Mister Warren."
And that's when the sleepy bugs got me. Or near enough. Stay warm today!