Wednesday, January 18, 2017

I Didn't Stay Put After All

But I didn't go far and once I left our side street the roads were just wet, not icy and slick.  People were mostly driving with their winter brains turned on too, so no one was zooming along, except for a few teenagers and I don't think their brains are turned on often anyway.  Which is not necessarily a criticism, I just think their bodies are changing so quickly that their brains are too busy dealing with all those hormones and trying to get boys' bodies to grow enough so they catch up to their feet to deal with too much more.

I did knit up to the crown decreases on the Soup hat.  Maybe I'll get a few of those rounds done today.  And remember "decreases" means they get smaller so maybe it'll go faster.  I'm trying to be project monogamous to get this hat done.  A wise knitter once remarked that it's amazing how quickly you can get something done if you work on one thing at a time.  (wasn't me)

A Downy Woodpecker came to the suet this morning, a lively addition to the black and white world of the backyard but it stayed on the back side of the suet feeder and then flew up into the apple tree.  Just as I pressed the shutter to get its silhouette against a branch it ducked its head to the side.  Oh well, pretend this is one of those "find the..." puzzles in a cheap magazine you take on a long car trip.

Here's proof that I am making headway against the ice.  That white stuff isn't snow, it's ice that's been decayed by salt so that I'll be able to shovel it off the driveway later or maybe Friday if I don't find the time tonight.  The temperature's supposed to hit 40 over the next four or five days which will help the walks and driveways but I suspect will just keep our street either wet and icy (because it's so packed and thick) or potholed as some melts faster than other parts.  I'm hoping for a little sunshine too.

January 18--Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, Dancer Jane Avril.  Like a striking viper the flames raced up the column of her dress.  A footlight bulb had exploded catching the hem on fire and her dancing fanned the flames.  At first the audience thought it was part of the act but soon it became apparent to everyone that it was not.  Before anyone could react the brittle fabric was eaten by the fire and her hair began to smolder.  Finally one brave soup ran to her with a side curtain, enveloping her in the musty velvet, smothering the flames.  That action triggered more--a doctor charged out of the audience onto the stage, a stagehand staggered out carrying a pail of water, and three women fainted.  An electrician's helper tripped the breaker, plunging the theater into darkness and setting off a near stampede as the audience surged to the exits.

I'm cutting it close to be on time for work so I'll say adios and book it outta here.

1 comment:

Aunt B said...

I did find the woodpecker in the tree. There was some kind of a small hawk perched on the roof the the sunroom the other afternoon. I tried to take his picture but was as successful as you were even with the elusive woodpecker. Your pictures are always so good.