Friday, March 27, 2015

Change of Scene

I worked my little fingers to the bone counting yesterday but didn't get finished.  I almost got finished but it's a much bigger job than either Mrs. Boss or I thought it was.  I got submerged in counting adapters and burst discs and other tiny things that 18 of them will fit into a little compartment in a plastic drawer the size of 2 postage stamps.  And the scanner wouldn't scan when I was counting the things in the safe (lead lining, anyone?) so that had to be emptied shelf by shelf and then returned.  I wasn't a huge fan of counting while standing on the ladder, either.  Naturally at least a third of the items in each cabinet had to be carried to a table to be sorted by size or color and then scanned.  Happily Mrs. Boss came in after lunch so I graciously gave her the job of finding names for and tagging the orphans I found but we've still got a crate of items that will need to be researched and tagged but they can wait until next week when the "big" counting is done and the rented scanner is returned.  One day this seemingly endless task will be done. Or not.

After I got home from work yesterday Durwood and I set out for a little change of scene.  We drove away toward the north, stopped for gas at Red Rocket, and I turned right out of the gas station to follow the frontage road to get back on the highway.  We were discussing where to have supper when we passed a tiny tavern and I thought I recognized a friend's truck.  "Want to eat there?  I think that's JJ/s truck."  "Sure," says Durwood.  So I dropped it into reverse, backed up a bit and, sure enough, there was JJ's truck at Knuckleheads Bar.  I parked in the lot and called him.  Just as he answered the phone he walked out the other door.  "How's the food in this place?" I asked, looking at his back.  "Where... what place?"  "Turn around," I told him.  By then Durwood had rolled his window down and was waving.  So even though they were leaving, they stayed to keep us company while we ate.  It was kind of like old times with the dive guys.  Their 17-year-old son (SEVENTEEN??? Yes) was there too so it really was a bit like the old days when there were kids and adults and all like a family.  Good bar food too.

This morning we're up here where there are no chores and phone service is iffy.  (text if you need us)  But don't think we've left our home unprotected, our mixed breed pet Pitbull/Rotweiler/Komodo Dragon, Tiny, and her handler, Hildegarde are patrolling the estate until we get back.  Also the alarm is set and the crocs in the moat haven't been fed in a month.

I finished the Yellow & Black Beanie last night.  Black is such a lovely color to knit with after dark--not.  I love the pair of hats even though the Black & Yellow one is kind of too big and the Yellow & Black one is kind of too small.  I'll have to look at the pattern to see if I can make a few adjustments to make a hat somewhere in the middle.  Maybe a change of hook size will do it.

March 27--Chris A. Crumley, Coral Reef with Moorish Idols.  This was the moment she craved, when her buoyancy was just right in a slight surge so that she felt rocked by the sea.  With almost no effort on her part the water movement pushed her a few feet, paused, and then pulled her back a little.  Up and back, up and back.  She was so relaxed she might doze off, but she wouldn't, there was too much to see.  By becoming a part of the ocean like that even the rhythmic gurgle of her exhalations didn't spook the fish.  The tiny fish, shrimp, and other critters that called the reef home went about their daily business as if she wasn't there.  Bi-color Damselfish tended their algae gardens and fended off the wrasse that came to eat their crop.  Sergeant Majors hovered before patches of dark navy eggs.  Arrow crabs stood on tiptoe, frown in place and purple boxing glove pincers at the ready.  Pederson's Cleaner Shrimp advertised their services, waving their thin white antennae from the tops of the anemones where they lived.  She wished she had another pair of eyes to take it all in.  Every day that she wasn't rocked in the warm, salty cradle of the sea she missed it.

I do miss warm water diving but maybe not quite that much.  I usually shy away from that level of maudlin.  Enjoy your Friday.  I'm going to love mine.

1 comment:

Aunt B said...

You certainly earned a day or two as a mini-vacation after enduring the dreadful inventory. That whole exercise has to be maddening. I hope you only have to do it once every five years or something. Enjoy your getaway!