And not the fun, pirate-y "arrgh" either. I just took my car in for an oil change and settled into a corner of the waiting room to knit while it was being serviced. I had my hot coffee and my earbuds in listening to the new Joe Pickett novel when the mechanic rounded the corner with a just-ran-over-your-dog look on his face. "Barb, your front right strut's busted. You need new ones and it isn't cheap." "Both are busted?" I asked. "No, only the right one but we have to do both." "Go ahead," I said, "they come with a free oil change, right?" He smiled and said, "Sure." Then he asked, "Do you keep birdseed in your garage?" "No, I park outside but we do feed birds, we have feeders in the backyard." Well," he said, "a chipmunk or a mouse is storing seeds in your air filter so you need a new one of those too." Geez. Joe gave me a ride home.
Speaking of feeding birds, another robin has its own way of getting suet. It stands on the ground under the feeder, then flaps up to hover a bit while grabbing a bite. Fun to watch, hard to take a picture of.
Before the strut announcement bomb hit at the car shop, I managed to add a few rows to the heel and sides of Black to White and Back Anklet #6. This is a nice pattern, easy and fast-ish, and using cleverknits' modifications so I don't have to seam the sides makes it brilliant. I can see this being one of those patterns I go back to again and again.
I've been trying to remember to do a couple rounds of Double Knitting practice a day and I've watched the Craftsy class a bit hoping to find the part where she teaches how to lock the yarns together at the sides. Maybe I'll watch more while I wait for my car to be fixed and Durwood to be ready to go to the grocery later. (I wonder if I can figure out how to watch it on the TV through the Wii console. I can use it for Netflix, that's like on a computer, right?) I'm getting a little better at holding the yarns, one in each hand. If I keep practicing, I'll get it.
March 24--Alfred Glendenning, Gathering Wild Flowers. Rena thought it was like plunging her hand into a treasure chest. Amethyst, topaz, ruby, sapphire, diamond, emerald--the colors of the wild flowers shone in the sunlight, drops of dew sparkling from petals and leaves. Her bare feet and the hem of her skirt were damp and chilly in the early morning. Birds sang, called to find a mate or defend territory, or maybe just with the joy of being alive.
That didn't come out the way I imagined it and I couldn't figure out how to make it better so I shut the notebook and went to sleep. I am the boss of my notebook. Yes, I am. It's a dreary day and the big $$ news about my car is not helping my mood one bit. I'm going to say good-bye so I don't infect anyone else.