This morning Durwood was up (for a minute) when I got up and he said, "the birdbath's steaming, it needs water, and it's 7 degrees out there; bundle up" so I put my hoodie on. I zipped it too. No pants, just the hoodie. He's a romantic, that Durwood; he knows that I tend to bop out to fill the birdbath in a tank top and undies (and boots, I put on boots when it's snowy) in the early morning and he wanted me to keep warm. But it's just too much bother to put on long pants AND boots AND zip my hoodie so early in the waking up process, only to come back into the house and shuck it all off so I can do my Wii Fit thing. Besides it's not that cold if I'm only out for a minute. Nothing vital takes a chill in that short a time.
Man, that new birdbath heater's a real hot one. Look at that. It's 7 degrees, it's been out in the cold overnight, and there's not one hint of a glacier, not even an iceberg in there. The old heater must have been like a hot breath compared to the roaring fire of the new one. I guess that means it was worth the $36 it cost. Hey, if I amortize the cost over the life of the previous one, it's less than four bucks a year, that I can afford. Plus if the squirrel doesn't eat through the cord of this one the per year cost will drop. Maybe I can find a metal mesh sleeve for the cord...
About a dozen hardy knitters made it to the guild meeting last night despite the snow--and Valentine's dinners. (guess we were the ones without dates; I left my valentine at home, safe and warm) We had a program about crocheted edging finishes on our knitted projects and it was nice. It was more relaxed than more "business-like" meetings. I wonder if we can clone that atmosphere at other, better attended meetings. TS who is a knitting whiz turned me onto binding off with a crochet hook and the needle with the stitches on it when I complained about the endless binding off of my shawlette. Thanks so much, TS! Now I love you even more.
February 15--Julia Margaret Cameron, The Parting of Lancelot and Guinevere. They knew it was wrong. They knew but they couldn't help themselves. Now they were caught in the betrayal and had to pay for their mistakes. The first punishment was for them to part. Jenny went to a cloister where she tended the poor and sick. Lance went to war. Art lost both his wife and his best friend. All were punished. All paid a heavy price for a few hours' indulgence.
Eh, it's not bad. It was a sappy photograph anyway and I was ready to turn out the light so I could snuggle with my forever valentine. Stay warm.