Durwood mentioned last night he heard someone doing something outside yesterday but he didn't look to see. I thought maybe the hole-diggers from a couple weeks ago came back to tamp down the dirt and fix the lawn before winter but when I looked out the window this morning I saw that someone had come over and de-leafed the lawn. Thanks, Neighbor! I really appreciate it. You have no idea.
As I said I would, at work yesterday I ripped out the start of the mosaic coaster for demo at Guild Thursday night and reknit it using the white yarn for the white squares. So much better. Then I worked on the ribbing of the Knoxville Seathwaite hat. Let me just say, four inches is longer than I thought it is and it's taking me longer to get there. I know I'll be glad when my new cabled hat has a double-thick brim but right now I just want it to be 4". Now.
I picked a tiny handful of ripe raspberries on my way back from the bank but they're gone, gobbled up in the blink of an eye. Of course. But the rose hips are still looking absolutely gorgeous.
November 10--Mark Gamba. Puddles were a magnet for Orly. From the time he could crawl, if there was a puddle he'd find it and be right in the middle of it. At first Sheila worried, afraid that he would fall face down in the water and drown. She would be right on his heels, like a good mama should be, but Orly cried and pushed her away. It hurt her feelings but she stayed farther back, still within sight. That distance gave her an interesting perspective. Their German Shepherd, Mayo, was never far from Orly. If Orly fell, Mayo stood by until he got up. If Orly wandered toward the road, Mayo tugged him back. Sheila never minded if Orly got wet or dirty, she just wanted her boy to be safe. With Mayo around he was.
Tonight I'm going to the East Library to listen to a speak about getting published. Could be interesting.