It's Not Fair

I woke up yesterday with a sore throat and today I have a rotten cough.  It's not fair.  Didn't I just have a cold that turned into bronchitis last month?  Yes, I did.  As I said, not fair.


Not only that but it's snowing.  There were a few tiny flakes floating around this afternoon but this evening they've gotten organized to cover the ground and swirl in the streetlight.  This means that when the moon rises at 1:30am it'll be behind the clouds and it's a supermoon to boot.  Not that I'd be up to see it but it's the principle of the thing.  I'm a big fan of supermoons.  Tonight's full moon is the Snow Moon, which is appropriate.



I spent all morning and into the afternoon reading one of the manuscripts I sent to the Kindle yesterday.  I had to make myself quit so I didn't read it all before I get on the plane on Tuesday.  I've already found a few places where changes need to happen and one character arrives on the first page, is there a while, maybe ten pages, and then he disappears.  I could swear that I wrote more about him, but for sure he needs to stick around at least in the background and not just drop off the face of the earth.



This afternoon was spent feeling sorry for myself (because of the cold) and knitting.  I started a cast sock because there was a pattern in the knitting guild newsletter and one of the hospitals asked for more.  I took all my tiny leftover balls of yarn, tied them together, and wound them into a ball.  I figure a sock to keep your toes warm when you're in a cast can be as random as all get out.



Then I worked on February Preemie Hat #3.  I haven't been doing a lot of knitting but these little projects are a way to keep my hand in and no feel like I've completely lost my touch (although I kind of feel like I have).

Yeah, I know that they look almost alike but, trust me, they're different.  One has 48 stitches and one 42, one has ribbing and one doesn't.  One is a single yarn and the other is a mishmash of leftovers.  Completely different.


07 February--Barbara Malcolm, Three Cheers for Murder.

Getting Lieutenant Graybow settled at the table with a cup of coffee, Marlene turned to making a simple dinner of chicken breasts, asparagus and rice.  While she’s chopping and cooking, they talk.

“Marlene, tell me what you were like as a girl.”

“Oh, I wasn’t really very interesting.  Always had my nose in a book, but never the ones my mom wanted me to read.”

“What did your mom want you to read?”

She laughed ruefully, “Beauty books, be-more-outgoing books, exercise books.  Anything to change me from what I was, and am, to what she thought I should be.”

“I don’t think you should change,” he said gallantly.

“Thanks, Len.  I’m glad you feel that way.  You’re the first one in a long time to like me for myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you my mom wanted me to be like her.  She constantly harped on my weight and grooming and interests wanting to make me more like she was.  Energetic, popular, a real cheerleader.  She held “the Y’s” up as paragons of young womanhood.”

“The Y’s?  Who’re they?”

“Tiffy Davis, Kimmy Neal and Teddy Allgood.  I called them “the Y’s” because all their names end in Y and they were inseparable from the beginning of high school all through college and even after they married.  They were my mother’s prize cheerleaders.  They were in and out of here constantly while she was their coach.  And of course, they heard her nagging me about my appearance.  So that gave them permission to razz me a bit when we were younger.  You know how cruel kids can be, but we’ve made it up and get along just fine now.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.  I was a nerdy, bookworm kid myself.  And my parents had big dreams for me too.  They wanted me to go to law school, so I tried, I really did, but once I started the classes I realized that the competition was just too fierce, not my style.  I dropped out of law school and started the course to be a police officer.  Not what they had in mind for me.  Boy, there were some fierce arguments at home when that happened.  Did you and your mom fight about you not being interested in being a cheerleader?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it fighting.  Mostly she lectured and I stood there silent and resentful.  Just didn’t understand, I guess.  She did help me save the money to go to Arizona the summer of my Junior year in college.  I joined an archaeology dig.  It was fabulous.”  A smile came over Marlene’s face as she remembered that one perfect summer.

“You’re smiling.  It must have been great.  Tell me all about it.  How did you get interested in Archaeology?”

Tomorrow is the official Grand Opening of Zambaldi Beer.  Ribbon cutting, speechifying, and everything.  I'll be there.
--Barbara