All day it snowed and blowed, um blew, like a banshee. The only people that came into the shop were the mail carrier and the FedEx guy; the phone didn't even ring except when Durwood called. It was a quiet day at the dive shop. No surprise there. Yoga was cancelled because it wasn't very safe driving around so I had to take my exercise blowing the snow and shoveling a little. Not as satisfying and not as much fun but it wasn't bad. I managed to move all 7.5" of snow without blowing a bunch of it into my own face. I call that a win. This morning I had to go out and clear the end of the driveway and reposition the trash bags the plow had shoved up into the drive away from the curb. No biggie. Durwood took a nice photo of the birdie trees in the middle of the storm and I snapped one once I had it cleared.
January 15--Jacob Lawrence, The Shoemaker. Clea liked the way it smelled of leather and glue in Will's repair shop. She liked how the shoes and purses hung from the wall pegs, their tags fluttering in the draft from the furnace vent. It was like an art installation, one that changed shape and color as items were picked up and dropped off. The sewing machine sat in front of the dusty window overlooking the side street. It was an old machine, mechanical not computerized, and Will coaxed and cajoled it into doing what he wanted it to do. He would put a cone of thread on the spindle, then put the thread end through eyelets and arms down to the needle. There was another smaller cone that held the bobbin thread and when Will pressed what he called the gas pedal, wheels turned, arms went up and down, the machine hummed and clicked, and the needle flashed in the sunlight streaming through the glass.
So that's it. Not a lot went on yesterday, only snow and wind, so this is all there is. Sorry. I think I might stop to see if LC is still as cute as she was on Sunday on my way to work. I'll call her Mama to see if she's accepting visitors. Gesundheit. Oh, no, wait... *opens another window, checks spelling* ...auf Wiedersehn.