The Onion Family

The alliums are still blooming like crazy.  Did I tell you that they're in the onion family?  The flowers look like chive blossoms but I don't know if they taste like onions, and I'm not going to sample one to see.  No, I'm not.  I might give them a sniff but I won't be tasting them.  Nope.

I went to my friend CS's house this evening for a social distance knit on her patio.  It was lovely and strange to be sitting around with three other people chatting and knitting and laughing.





The Oriole was back at the grape jelly today and I managed to snap him, bottoms up, with his beak in the orange half.  That is the best orange color, kind of a yellow orange I think, but I love the bright flash of orange that tells me he's at the feeder.


I thought I was losing my mind yesterday morning.  DS stopped over to borrow the post pounder tool so he could put up a fence around the taproom's new patio (their liquor license requires a fence) and within ten minutes of him driving away I heard someone pounding a post in my front yard.  I couldn't figure out who was making the noise and why DS had come back to pound a post, so I looked outside and there were the city tree guys pounding posts in to support my new tree.  I called out to them and they were surprised that I'd recognized the sound.  So I guess I've not lost my mind--yet.

21 May--Barbara Malcolm, Tropical Obsession.  

Mona drove by the villa just past four o’clock to make sure that Manning had left.  She was reasonably sure that none of the vehicles parked along there were his, no topless Jeep with rust fringe around the entire body to be seen. 

Mona wondered how Manning had gotten his reputation as a ladies’ man.  She thought he was good looking enough if you did not look too closely and he did have an air of rakish adventure about him but now that Susan had warned her about his dishonesty she knew that she was in no danger of falling prey to his charms. 

Jack was in a great mood when she got in. 

“Hey, baby,” he said from the patio.  “Hop into a bikini and come on out here.  I have a pitcher of rum drinks we can share.” 

In the past she would have been happy that he was so happy, glad that his day had gone well, but since the party last night and especially after having lunch with Susan today, she felt like she was awakening from a long coma.  It took a lot of control to smile and wave, call “be right back,” and go do as he asked. 

She felt the pull of habit coaxing her to slide back into her rut and just go with the flow but she was determined to put a little starch in her backbone day by day so she could turn herself back into the independent and confident woman she knew she could be.  

She took her time, but not too much time so that Jack got mad, changing out of her tee shirt and skirt.  She put on her red and gold bikini, Jack’s favorite, and she brushed her dark hair up into a ponytail.  She put a dab of perfume behind each ear, slid her feet into red leather sandals and went out onto the patio through the bedroom’s French doors. 

“I was just about to come get you,” Jack said with a roguish twinkle in his eye that made him look a bit like a caricature of Santa and not in a good way.  

She dredged up a smile.  “I wanted to make myself pretty for you.”  She walked over and sat on the end of his lounge chair.  “How was your lunch, Jack?” 

He reached over and slapped her thigh hard enough to leave a handprint on her skin.  “Just dandy.”  He crossed his arms over his furry chest and looked very self-satisfied. 

She looked at him sitting there looking like the cat that ate the canary and knew that Manning had gotten whatever it was that he had wanted when he came for lunch.  “So, what did you let Manning con you into, Jack?” 

Her words knocked the smile off his face, he went pale even under his tan and he sat upright on the lounge chair. 

“What do you mean what did he con me into?”  He reached as if to grab hold of her arm to squeeze it like he usually did when displeased with her, but she brought her hand up and fended him off. 

“Do not do that, Jack.  I will not let you try to hurt me like that anymore.” 

Instead of reacting Jack leaned to pick up and light a cigarette.  He slammed the lighter down on the glass top of the table.  “Well, you are sure full of yourself today.  I suppose you learned that from Miss Hotsy Totsy Susan, huh?” 

She shook her head.  “No, Jack, I just got tired of being your door mat.”  She got up and poured them both a drink, and then she sat back down on the foot of Jack’s lounge chair.  “So, tell me,” she reached and caressed his foot, “what deal did you and Manning cook up at lunch today?”  Four years of living with him had taught Mona that Jack was putty in her hands if she rubbed his feet.  She planned to do a lot of foot rubbing in the next few weeks to get what she wanted.  

I spent a lot of time on the patio today, casting on and knitting the next preemie hat, and just enjoying the sunshine and beautiful warm weather.  I also sprayed weed killer on all the little plants poking up between the patio blocks.  That was my big accomplishment for the day, that and sprinkling a little fertilizer on the bales.  I might mow tomorrow.  We'll see how the yard looks.
--Barbara