... and I don't think it was just a light shower. Last week LC and DIL1 told me that we're all Rebel Girls and that's when I decided that I needed to knit pink Pussycat Hats for us. They said that Rebel Girls are: strong, smart, kind, and brave. I was looking at Hat #2 as I was transitioning from ribbing to stockinette (the flat part that makes up the crown) last night and I thought "what if I could embroider those words on the hats?" I know I have at least two friends who can teach me how to duplicate stitch and it'll take an evening's concentration and a pad of graph paper to work out the letters. Don't you think that'd be cool? Pussy Hats are so last November, but Pink Rebel Girl Hats are forever. I'm doing it--once I get all three hats knitted. I'll report.
The patio flower pots are doing well. This one has red nicotiana, red salvia, and orange zinnias. The butterflies love them. I'm so glad I kept the pedestal from a broken-dish birdbath, it's the perfect base for this pot of geraniums and vines.
This morning a male Downy Woodpecker came for a snack and stayed long enough for me to nab a picture. Lately there's been a pair of Downies hanging around but they're too fast for me--or I'm too slow, which is totally possible.
Also this morning I heard a truck stop outside and when I investigated I found these two guys pumping "mud" under the end of the driveway. It's not mud mud, it's a cement-ish mud that they use to level out slumping slabs and since they're repaving our street this summer I guess this is part of the prep. The guys tearing up Seventh St. (the sole access street to our little court) the last few weeks got the storm sewer pipes dug up and replaced, then disappeared as all construction crews do in mid-job. I expected them to turn the corner and keep on a-coming but, no, they're gone. They left a street cleaner machine and a lot of bumpy asphalt patches but they skedaddled. I'm sure they'll be back at the most inconvenient time.
June 26--John William Waterhouse, I Am Half Sick of Shadows. Gwen sat at her weaving next to the round window that gave little light. She felt like the room absorbed what sunlight came in, meaning she always had lights on which made the wool colors had to see. What looked green in the loom turned out to be blue in the daylight. She didn't have anything against green, in fact she liked green more than she liked blue, but it was being wrong about what color she was using that put her on edge.
I'm meeting a friend for lunch in about an hour and want to stop at the dollar store and the birdseed store to get some birdseed and cob corn on the way so I think I'm going to hop onto my horse and gallop away. See ya!