Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Snow + Rain? Really?!?
What a crap looking day, but I'm going to go get Porter and see about a walk. We might not go far and we might park behind the big office and only play in the "lawn" for a bit but we'll go. For a while anyway. I have too much to do today to stay indoors (like I'm inclined to) and molder. I could keep myself occupied all day, I know I could, but I signed up to ring the bell for an hour for the Salvation Army and I have a chiro appointment and it's yoga night. And I need a manicure and to find a minute or ten to work on the curtains for the nursery. I promised to have them done by the weekend so I figure I'll dedicate Friday and Saturday to sewing them up and be on top of things. I need to wash the fabric first anyway so the curtains don't shrink when they're laundered; it's the smart thing to do. That I can accomplish today.
I had four whole customers yesterday, paying ones even. It was kind of amazing, exciting even to put that much moolah into the till. Of course I still had lots of knitting and listening time. I'm knitting a hat for the coming grandbaby as requested and I'm listening to The Book Thief on my iPod. It's different than I thought it'd be; it's about a young girl, a foster kid, growing up in Nazi Germany and her drive to read books and obsession with stealing certain ones, and Death is the narrator so he goes off every chapter or so talking about all the souls he's collecting. I'm liking it, it's got a broad scope and interesting characters. It's a YA book but I figure I'm old enough to read it.
I forgot to show you the gorgeous shawl that Lala gave me on Saturday. A friend brought it from Pakistan and she gave it to me. Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've seen? It's so soft and yet so warm and I think it's silk. I love it! Such a beautiful red-orange color too. Thanks thanks thanks.
December 3--China, Po (cymbals). The crash of the cymbals almost sent Bernie off her seat. She had been riding along on the music and was far from her seat in the darkened auditorium when the percussionist came in with a bang. She wasn't much of a music lover. Oh, she liked music all right she just didn't know much about it. She didn't know a symphony from an aria and she wouldn't recognize a cantata if one came up and bit her on the ankle. But her friend Alf had concert tickets and had invited her along, so she had put on her nicest black pants, a new white blouse, and her second-best bra and here she sat on a maroon velvet set under a painted starry sky with a bunch of swells around her, listening to a cymbals player with a yearning for attention.
I'd better get moving because I fear if I sit here looking out the window any longer I might just stay put until I have to go out. You have a good day and stay upright. No falling down allowed.