Maybe The Last Bird

 

Yesterday I took down most of the crooks that birdfeeders hung on and put them away so there was one very confused Cardinal that flew over today.  It swooped down near the suet feeder, then past where the platform feeder used to be, over to the top of the fence where it looked around as if to get its bearings, and then it flew off.



It snowed overnight a little, see?  Most of it melted today but we're supposed to get 4-8" of the stuff by tomorrow night.  Yippee.  I'm thinking of getting snow tires.  I've never had them but maybe they'd give me more traction in the snow; I'd like that.






I did laundry this afternoon and sewed up the second pair of brown leggings.



 

I was looking for more brown thread when I sewed the last pair and thought about organizing my thread basket so it would be easier to find things.  I took out all of the spools, found a brown one that I'd missed, and grouped like colors together in zipper bags from the Dollar Tree.  So much easier to find things, plus it pleased my combined German and Virgo need for tidiness.  Ahh.


 

Here's the bountiful Thanksgiving spread from yesterday.  Everything was so good and everyone was such fun to be around.  When they asked what I was thankful for I said, "this, this day, this company, this family."

The other day I sat and counted out 2-point bags of pretzel twists. (18/bag)  That way when I want something crunchy and salty I can grab one and not go overboard like I would if there was a whole bag of them to plunge my hand into.







29 November--Barbara Malcolm, Spies Don't Retire. 

George had come to hate the cold; that was the driving force that led him to move them to the tropics.  Sonia had been a difficult sell.  She was devoted to their grandchildren and involved in various clubs and good works in Watford.  It took a particularly cold and rainy winter to convince her that she could be warm all year round and still pursue her interests.  He promised her the fastest most reliable Internet connection money could buy, bought the most modern laptop with all the newest bells and whistles, and promised to do his level best to lure their sons and their families to visit frequently.

They spent six months selling their house; Sonia felt it was important to find the right buyer for the home she had lavished so much love on for thirty years.  In the end their middle son and his wife timidly expressed the desire to purchase the house.  Sonia was thrilled, as she knew their daughter-in-law, Daphne, loved it as much as she did and would take excellent care of it and the gardens Sonia had built from scratch.  They handled the sale the right way too, treating Eric and Daphne as if they were strangers, getting a solicitor and an estate agent involved to guarantee that everything was covered as it should be, and that neither of the other sons would have a sliver of doubt about whether somehow Sonia and George were playing favorites.  Since Eric and Daphne were the only ones living in the area and so the only children realistically able to buy the house, George thought all the fees and bother involved was silly until Jared and Spencer each had separately taken him aside, asking if they might not have gotten more out of it if they had sold it to a stranger.  Even George, ever alert to innuendo when at work and generally clueless to the intrigues of family life, understood that the questions were asking if Eric had gotten preferential treatment, leaving his older and younger brothers out in the cold, inheritance wise.  George was glad to be able to show them an independent appraisal of the property that matched to the penny the amount Erik and Daphne gave for the place.  When he mentioned Jared and Spencer’s remarks to Sonia she had laughed and said, “Didn’t I tell you?”  He had to concede that she had been right.

I realized yesterday that I want to knit one gift and Sunday is December 1 so I'd better get moving.  This is the only black-and-white yarn I've been able to find and it isn't knitting up the way I'd hoped but I'm keeping on.  It'll be fine.  I'm not telling what it'll be so don't ask.

--Barbara