Winter's Back... With Attitude

Well.  Yesterday afternoon and evening was rainy, then it got cold and, guess what?  All that rain froze on everything and it snowed.  Now we live in a world of ice and snow.  Thunder and lightning snow, at that.  I just watched a smallish branch drop off of the tree across the street and when I went out to take ice pictures it sounded like ripping Velcro when the wind picked up a bit.  Pretty but treacherous and it just better not break my maple tree.  I hear the neighbor out with his sorta-working snowblower, only half of the auger's turning so it's just shoving most of the snow ahead of itself.  Dandy.  I'm telling you right now I am not shoveling this morning.  This snow can melt where it fell.  I'm done with the shoveling.  Done, do you hear me, D-O-N-E, done.

I ended up spending most of the afternoon downstairs just playing with yarn.  In fact, I frogged one project on Monday night and brought up yarn, needles, and patterns for three of them yesterday, two of which I started last night after supper.  (that's what we call "startitis" in the knitting world; I'm not ashamed)  And we didn't go out after all.  Durwood said his breathing wasn't up to going out in the cold so he tossed together a pan of chicken spaghetti with a frozen chicken breast and frozen sauteed mushrooms (thawed, of course, literal much?), half a red bell pepper, and half a jar of sauce.  It was good and didn't take long, plus there's enough for supper tonight too.  I do suspect that he won't be going to Woodman's for fresh veggies for tonight since it's just awful out there.  I see carrots in my immediate supper future.  Yum.

April 10--Claude Fayolle, Queen of Clubs.

Spades are always high, Mom told me.
She said no trump too or
three hearts and I know
there was a dummy at
every table. (I thought
that was mean.)
There was rubber and renege,
slam, grand slam, tricks.
It was a language
I didn't understand
but every day
at 3 o'clock
she'd call me to tell me
how she made a slam
or didn't, went down,
got set, or
got her nickel back.
Nobody talks Bridge to me
anymore, I kinda
miss it sometimes.
~~~~~

I don't miss it often because it baffled me, but I miss the teller.  I really miss showing her the things I make.  Ah well, she went fast and in minimal pain... I'm grateful.  Sorry to be a downer but when I think of cards, I think of Mom.  Oh!  I get to go learn about blueberry cultivation after work today.  Yippee.  I should find a notebook.  Toodles.



--Barbara