Do you think I could get a house call? Or a shop call? Yeah, probably not. I'll just have to deal with longer, scruffy looking nails until I can zip into the salon one evening next week after work. Work, ugh, but paycheck, yay. I got a couple more skirts cut out yesterday using the nice big tables in the back room at work. Tomorrow I have to sew up a valance for DS & DIL1's upstairs bathroom. I hear DIL1's getting a little antsy for it, but I didn't have the exact measurements for the rod for a while and then haven't really had time. I'll cut it out today and maybe start sewing, get it done tomorrow, and take it over for them to hang either tomorrow night or Monday. Did I tell you that I got to pet Henny the other evening? I stopped over to see their new kitchen (it's gorgeous!) and we went out to see the grand-chickens. DS let them out of the coop and once they'd settled down a bit, caught Henny, upended her and I got to pet her. She so soft! DS says he's ready for them to start earning their keep, so far all they do is eat and poop. They're still too young to lay eggs, DIL's friend says September or October. I can't wait to eat a fresh egg.
July 29--John Singer Sargent, Spanish Fountain. Delia trailed her fingers in the warm, foamy water of the Spanish Fountain. The sun turned the droplets spraying from the cherub's open mouth to diamonds in the morning light. In her lap her fingers curled in to crumple Leo's letter. She had received it the day before and hadn't believed the words. After a restless night in her narrow hostel bunk she wasn't sure she had read the words right, even though she must have read them twenty times. He had fallen out of love with her, he wrote, and into love with some limp little senorita named Luisa. Delia could imagine her doe eyes and olive skin, her sleek black hair and her plump hands all touching Delia's Leo. Tears glittered in her eyes but she wiped them away with angry swipes. That bastard, he had led her on with sweet words and wine. He had lured her into his bed only to throw her away when he got to Spain for a summer semester. Well, two could play that game. Hadn't that Norwegian (what was his name--Sven? Olaf? something Nordic anyway) asked her out for a beer tonight? Maybe he'd be up for more than a beer.
Hell hath no fury... Men are so clueless. Enjoy your day off, I have to work (slumps dejectedly) all day.