of my aches and pains are lessened by it. An all-around win win. Yay! Thanks, Mardi. (The are not and never will be any photos of me in yoga. I will not have my mental image of my grace and serenity shattered, thanks ever so. I'll find a sunset picture or some other artsy scene to show you today.) I'm meeting Cookie & Skully for breakfast in a little while and then we're going to Artigras, the winter version of Artstreet. Our friend, Z-Dawg, will be there with her new spinning wheel. She gave me a skein of her handspun as a thank you for some favors I did for her. (Totally unnecessary but very appreciated.) I can't wait to knit something with it. Tonight we change the clocks an hour (Spring ahead, Fall back) for Daylight Savings Time. Anyone who has read this blog for any length of time knows my feelings about the whole DST debacle. Suffice to say, I think as an idea, it sucks. Grandpa Angermeier used to call it "fast time" and I can not begin to convey the disgust in his voice when he said it, and his mouth turned down too, since he was naturally dour that's saying something. But I'll focus on my breathing (diaphragm, ribs, and chest...) and get past it. *breathe*March 9--Herman, Paul & Jean de Limbourg, St. Jerome Translating the Bible. Tally lay on the blue Persian rug in Grandpa Earl's study with the book open in front of her. It was too heavy for her to hold like a regular book. It was half as tall as she was, and it was heavy. She had to slide the great thing across the floor and into the light. Tally picked this book to look at because she thought it was about botany and zoology, and she knew more about plants and creatures than any other nine-year old in town. This book was a disappointment in the flora and fauna department, although one of the pages showed some saint guy (she could tell he was a saint because of his halo) reading a story to a lion. The lion did not look interested in anything but eating him. It must have been windy on the balcony overlooking the saint guy and the lion. The three old bearded guys up there were trying to read from scrolls but they kept blowing all over, at least that's what it looked like to her. The beautiful blue and red words under the picture weren't in English. She thought they might be in Latin but the words bore absolutely no resemblance to the taxonomy Latin that she was familiar with.
And that's when the yoga relaxation and the knitting laughter caught up to me and I conked out. Durwood came to bed and I rallied enough to put my writing toys on the nightstand, tell him that I love him, and reach out to hold hands while we fell asleep. (I don't snuggle up to him [although I'd like to] because he turns his electric blanket up to "nuclear" and I can't stand to be that hot. I'm a cool person, not a hot one, especially when I'm sleeping.) Off to look at, and probably buy, art!
--Barbara
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