When you only have one day off in a week you try to cram in all the chores and errands. It really fills up the day and when the day is as cold and windy as today was, well, it's really hard to make yourself do stuff. So you make a list trying to compress your errands into as few stops as possible to cut down on the number of times you have to get out of the warm-ish car and you dig out extra wool gloves and a hat so that when you get home all of your extremities are still unfrozen. When you get home with Chinese take-out for supper because you've been running around like a crazed weasel all day, it's cold, and neither of you really wants to cook. Mmm, Egg Foo Yong.
The birds are still figuring out the new feeder. I've seen a few chickadees pick out a seed and a cardinal gave it the once over this morning but so far it's managed to foil the seed-flinging sparrows. Good.
I know it's really winter when the juncos are here. They spend summer way up in the Arctic and come down here to Wisconsin where it's warmer. Warmer, ha. They're cute little black and gray birds that eat the fallen seed. I hope the feral cat doesn't eat too many juncos over the winter.
I took my car in for an oil change yesterday and when I picked it up after work the mechanic told me that I had a chipmunk, vole, or mouse in my air filter. Ew. He said it's pretty common but... ew.
The Peapod Alfalfa hat is too small. It's headed for the frog pond and the yarn will become a different hat for that SomeBaby. Soon.
November 18--Walker Evans, Cinema. The posters were printed in color with movie titles in big letters, the stars' names even bigger. "But they're in Spanish," Pen said. Jean leaned over her shoulder. "They're old movies too. I wonder if they were silents." She turned one of the posters over as if that would give an answer. "I suppose it'd be easier to just have the subtitles in whatever language you needed instead of having to dub them." Pen looked up from the stack of posters she was sifting through. "I'll bet the posters were the only things in color. I'll bet these were black and white movies and B movies at that." Jean frowned down at her. "What do you mean, B movies?" Pen flapped her hand. "Oh, you know, low budget, second-rate actors and has-beens, quickie scripts and remakes, not blockbusters, the Saturday afternoon pot boilers."
Good lord, it's almost 9 o'clock. Where does the day go? Time to take the trash & recycling bins to the curb. Time to bundle up one more time today. G'night.