Another Cloudy Day

And I saw tiny snow flurries this morning.  Nothing came of it but I swear that the raindrops had solid mass, at least for a couple minutes.  It was misty, breezy, and generally crummy for most of the day.  Just what you need when you're sheltering in place, crap weather.  Granted it is March in Wisconsin so I can't expect balmy days with sunny skies but I'd like them.  Please.

I was quick enough this morning to snap a picture of a bluejay on the peanut wreath.  I heard the squawk and grabbed the camera.  He took off right after I pushed the shutter.  I was surprised that I didn't have a blur of feathers and wings.



Tomorrow is April 1 and April is Poetry Month.  I'm supposed to have a writing date with ACJ tomorrow but we talked and it isn't smart of us to meet so I went online to find a list of prompts and we're going to write poems every day in April.  We agreed that if the weather gets nice enough to sit outside she'll come over and I'll put another table on the patio so we can each have our own spot but be close enough to converse but far enough apart to be safe.  This sounds like it's going to be a long haul so maybe we'll still be safe-at-home-ing when the weather turns nice and we can do that.



It hit me this afternoon that today is the last day of March and I'd forgotten to knit a fourth preemie hat for the month.  I got right on it and knitted the smallest micro-preemie hat, Moe.  I'm a very slow knitter so it took me more than an hour, maybe an hour and a half to knit this thimble sized hat.  It fits very nicely on a clementine, that's how small it is.

I can send this quartet of hats up to the NICU when I drop off the masks I made for the guy in the ER at St. Vincent Hospital who, rumor  has it, will put them in the staff room for anyone who wants one.




31 March--Josef Albers, Homage to the Square.  The light was yellow, even the air looked yellow.  Leah pushed open the screen door and went out into the golden twilight.  She half-expected to feel the light like a breeze on her skin.  The day had been hot and humid.  She had made lemonade with a sprig of lavender in it.  She's read about lavender lemonade in a magazine and thought it sounded elegant.  It tasted elegant too, not like soap which Jack said it would.  He wouldn't try it.  "A G&T is what I need on a day like this, not some frou-frou herbed lemonade."  She left him parked in from of the big screen watching some movie with explosions and car chases to come outside to enjoy the end of the day.  Fireflies blinked on and off in the hedge and the light painted the world golden.

I just realized that I'll need to write a poem with tonight's prompt so I have one to put on here tomorrow.  Can't celebrate the first day of Poetry Month with prose, now, can I?  Nope.
--Barbara