That means... erranding with Durwood. He's still got a stiff neck so he doesn't feel safe driving around since he can't turn his head to the right (good call) so I'm in charge of driving him to Woodman's since we're out of fresh veggies. Out, do you hear? Out. Out. Out, and we can't have that. Also navel oranges are getting scarce so we need to seek out some of them too. This hunter/gatherer stuff is never done.
Last night was the Knitting Guild's first Knit in the Park night for the summer. (we don't have official meetings in June, July, and August but didn't want to not knit together all that time either so we just gather one night a month near where we have our indoor meetings and knit in the park across the street) VJ was out of town so she passed off the church key (really, the key to a church, not a bottle opener) so I could open up if it rained. I didn't go home from work, I just stopped for some chicken strips and toodled on over. There were about 10 of us sitting, knitting, and chatting for a couple hours as the sun went down and it got cooler. I was jealous that TS had jeans and a hoodie in her car as I got kind of too cool, but I managed and then made a mug of tea when I got home. I was looking at the ankle sock I'm knitting and found a dropped stitch that showed on the inside way back at the edge of the ribbing. Luckily I had a tiny crochet hook so I could ladder it back up and then stick a safety pin stitch holder into it. I'll sew it in place later today. Man, I hate when that happens. I happened upon a very fascinating sweater pattern yesterday when I was killing time at work and now I have to figure out how to make it in my size and with the stash yarn I'm thinking of using. Should be either an adventure or a death march, could go either way.
June 14--Georges Seurat, Study for A Sunday on La Grande Jatte. Everyone in town was in the park the Sunday that the monkey got loose. At first no one noticed, then Mamie's dog Jack started barking. The monkey threaded its long fingers in Jack's collar and leaped onto his back like a jockey mounting a horse before a race. Jack spun in circles trying to dislodge the monkey but the little primate just held on tighter. People began to stare and retreat from the spectacle as Jack took off running around the pond. Women shrieked, men laughed, and boys ran along behind with a pack of baying hounds on their heels. No one saw where the monkey came from. It wore a red wool vest trimmed in gold braid and a thin leather leash, broken and trailing, as the unlikely pair turned the corner, flushing a pair of nesting mallards from the reeds. People said they thought there had been an organ grinder on the corner near the popcorn stand but by the time Jack and the monkey were rounding the other end of the pond there was no organ grinder to be seen, only a spill of popcorn where he might have been.
Well, I like that. I need a magic wand. I have all sorts of "things I'd like to do" rolling around in my head and I know I'd be happier if I could just get them all done and laid out before me in a nice row. I have a bajillion knitting and sewing projects I want to do, a few (okay, six) novels that need rewriting and publishing, I'd like to have more motivation to workout, and I'd like to weigh about 100# less, also I want Durwood to be better, all around better, not just "no more stiff neck better" but ALL better (my bedside manner's worn exceptionally thin lately, poor him), so I really need that wand. Anybody got one handy? No? Oh... well that's disappointing. Later, dudes and dudettes.