Sunday, June 5, 2016

"Imagine How Crowded the Place Would be if They Made Fries."

That's what my BIL, RJ, said when I told him that Mickey-Lu's only sells chips, that fries aren't on the menu.  Speaking of Friday's road trip, I suspected that our pasties wouldn't last the weekend and they didn't.  We wrapped the frozen rocks of meat, potatoes, rutabagas, onions, and dough in foil and popped them into the oven for an hour and VOILA! supper appeared.  They weren't the best pasties on the planet, but they weren't the worst ones either.  I proposed that next we investigate the pasties sold in a little place next to a gas station in DePere and the motion passed.  Durwwod proposed a jaunt to Iron Mountain for more Upper Peninsula pasties and that idea was tabled for calendar consultation and further discussion.  We're in a pasty kind of mood.  Oh, and that's "pass-tee," not "paste-ee."  Pasties are Cornish meat pies, pasties are, um, glued on strippers' ta-tas, usually with tassels for twirling on them.

This morning the first poppy has opened and the second one is on the way.  There are a few buds on the honeysuckle too and a few peony buds made an appearance.









The suet-eating robin was up to its old tricks and as soon as I put peanuts into the wreath a bluejay showed up to nab a couple.








In order to not go outside and weed (which is probably too much activity at this stage in my recovery) I sat on the couch yesterday, listening to an audiobook, and knitting on new things.  This is why big projects take me forever to finish--I get attracted by an idea or a pattern and, zoom, there I go off on a tangent.  The first thing I made was a tiny knitted ice cream cone.  Last time she was here, LC told me she doesn't like ice cream and her parents confirmed it.  This is a child that doesn't like ice cream so when the Free Pattern of the Day one day last week was a tiny knitted ice cream cone, I knew I had to make one for her to play with.  Maybe if she doesn't like cold and melty ice cream, she'll like knitted ice cream.

Then it was time to put the dishcloth MW made for us down the chute (it smelled a bit funky) and I realized that I really liked the size and thickness of it so I rummaged around down in the stash, found the pattern I've used in the past to make doublethick cloths, and a couple of random scraps of dishcloth cotton, and made one.  Okay, I admit, I started it Friday night and finished it yesterday, so it wasn't an actual one-day project--although it was probably made within a 24 hour period, so that counts, right?

After that was done and I'd gotten to "the end" of my audiobook I thought about adding a few rows to Sudoku Strip #3 (but it's black and everyone knows black is hard to knit or sew with after dark) or seeing about the next scallop of the Autumn Cumulus sock (but that's on teeny tiny needles with very skinny yarn and I wasn't in the mood) but red and sparkly won.  I cast on a crown for me.  I'm justifying it by telling myself that I want to see if I can't figure out how to make the crown's points without cutting and reattaching the yarn for each one.  Yeah, that's totally why I'm knitting myself a red and sparkly crown.  Research, yeah, that's it.

June 5--Andrew Child, Blurred Airliner.

Bird Rocket Whale
Too cloudy to see clearly
the dark shape flying
lights ablaze
engines roar pounds the ground
reverberates in my chest 
~~~~~

Avocado pit #2 got poked with toothpicks and suspended in a jam jar today.  This one I let dry out since Thursday night and can already see a small crack in the seed covering (which is called an aril, btw, if you ever need it for a crossword puzzle) so we're interested to see if putting it in the jar right away or letting it dry works better.  I'll report.  Later MW is coming over to help weed the blueberries and milkweed patch.  Knitters make the best friends.  They have been a godsend over the last couple months.
--Barbara

1 comment:

Aunt B said...

Red and sparkly will always win the day -- especially at my house. AND yours of course. Your poppies remind me of the ones that grew in Grandma Gerst's back yard down on Bell Avenue. So pretty.