... and I plan to continue that today. I'll bowl up and container up the vat of green chicken soup I made for lunches, and measure out 3 bowls of fresh pineapple for lunch fruits. Then I'll whip up a batch of hot cocoa mix with a recipe I found that uses Splenda and is only 2 WW points per serving. I'll strap on my snowshoes and go out to fill all the bird and squirrel feeders and maybe even remember to brush the snow off the thermometer so Durwood can see how cold it is out there. And it's time to clean the bathroom. Ol' Cesspool's kind of getting the upper hand in there. (you know it's time to clean when you sit on the "stool" and hairy hands come from behind you and grab your ankles) I need to go to Walmart to get printer ink, both printers are either out (mine) or on the last cartridge (his) so it's time to resupply. Maybe I'll go to Office Max because they've got shredders on sale and ours died last week. An outing! And it's in the same shopping center as JoAnn's Fabrics. Uh-oh. (No! I'm on a yarn and fabric diet, make that a fast, until I knit and sew up more than a little of the stuff down in the "studio" so NO, Barbara, you are NOT going into JoAnn's, no whining, no excuses and that's that. deal with it.)
Yesterday afternoon late I remembered that I needed to buy more dried mealworms for the birdies and the birdseed store closes at 5, so I flung on my coat, grabbed my purse, and scurried down there... only to realize that I'd left my wallet in my knitting bag. It was 7 minutes to 5:00 but I told the kid I thought it could make it (it's only 3 blocks) so I zoomed home, raced into the house, got my wallet, and zoomed back. I made it. *pant, pant* I'd have been faster but there was traffic on Military Ave. that kept us/me from crossing for a few minutes. Even the kid said "wow" when I walked back in. So now I have to make sure to put out some of those worms for the cardinals, finches, and chickadees. I'm thinking this spring of feeding live mealworms to see if I can't attract bluebirds. That means I have to get Durwood to help me build a bluebird house. I can do that. We have wood and tools, lots of tools, and how-to books. We're set.
February 3--George Bellows, Ox Team, Wharf at Matinicus. Sarah drew her sweater closer against the chill wind off the harbor. The opening to the bay was narrow and the rocks funneled the wind making it stronger. The shouts of the men on the wharves hadn't changed while she was away. Even their accents were the same, the broad "A"s of their Polish ancestors as pronounced as they had been forty years ago. She barely remembered her mother's crying as they left Grandmother's house. She had been too small to understand what the shouting had meant. Mama had died twenty years ago. Grandmother had lived in the white clapboard house up the hill from the wharves until a month ago when the Meals on Wheels driver had found her lifeless body on the kitchen floor. "Old age" the coroner had said, but Sarah wasn't sure.
That's better. Evidently crossing things off lists, accomplishing things even makes writing easier. Who knew? Can you believe that it's already February? I sure can't. Where did January go? *flings hands up* Time to put on real clothes and go scoop soup. Bye.