Monday, March 12, 2012


It was so gorgeous yesterday that even Durwood, who gets chilled amazingly quickly, sat outside and basked. And, look! He has unsnapped his jacket. (I'm proud of you, Dear.) It got up to 64 degrees, breaking the old record of 62, and my primroses are up. Not blooming yet, but they're up and budding. Hooray. Today we're getting rain, but it's not freezing rain so I'm not complaining. I was true to my word and did a lot of hiding in the basement yesterday. I know, I know it was gorgeous outside but last week was a hard week and I needed to hide and figured I might as well accomplish things while I was hiding. I finished my pinboard (burning 3 fingers with hot glue--go, me!) and then worked on the second lap duvet. This one uses a rayon sarong instead of flannel for the top. I saved the fringes so it'll be a different look. I wish the loftier batting wasn't so pricey, my duvets are pretty flat, cozy but flat, and I'd like to make at least one of them poufy. Oh well, you go with what you can afford. It's a work day and PAYday so I don't mind going to work. Besides I made a fresh batch of roasted red pepper hummus last night and Durwood got me a package of mini cukes and some Roma tomatoes for lunches. I cut up a pineapple last week so I've got quality fruit too. I'm set. I also stayed up too late (thank you very much, Daylight Savings Time) so it was extra hard to get out of bed IN THE DARK this morning. But according to the scale my weight stayed the same over the week and the Wii Fit tray weigh-y thing said I lost .7# so I feel good. Back onto the wagon, things will be better this week. Right? Right.

March 11--Egypt, Sporting Boat. Ever since she was a child Elaine had been fascinated by the Pyramids and the possibility that there were still amazing artifacts still to be discovered. She had read every account of Howard Carter's discovery of King Tut's tomb and all of the Amelia Peabody novels because the author, Elizabeth Peters, had a PhD in Egyptology. Elaine brushed sand away from an object with an old paintbrush. Her trowel had hit it, but it was just a rock. She'd like to find an artifact. maybe a pot sherd, a faience bead, or a finger bone, something to reward her patience. She was nearly doing a headstand in her hole when her trowel struck something hard again. She sighed, put her trowel aside, and picked up her brush. Very carefully she cleared away the packed sand from around what she was sure was another rock. No, it was wood, painted wood. A few more strokes and she was looking into the face of a tiny carved man. Grave goods, it had to be. The sweat that drenched her turned to ice as she brushed sand away from the mummified fingers clutching the statue.

Oooh, pharaoh or grave robber? I miss Mom. No, this week I really miss her. I've been leaking tears all week. I wish I had the balls to just cry, to let it all out, wailing and sobbing and getting all stuffy but for some reason I can't/don't/whatever. Tedious. Enjoy your Monday, I will.

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