A Lazy Day

Today was a lazy day.  Even this chipmunk couldn't be bothered to shinny up the crook to the

platform feeder--or it had eaten all the seeds so there was no point.  It sat on the step for a while just looking around, not making any noise.

I spent the greater part of the day on the couch watching Downton Abbey.  I'm hooked.  Re-hooked?  Anyway, it's quite a treat to watch episode after episode and not have to wait a week or months for the next one.

 

While I watched I finished Cast Sock 4 and even had yarn left over.  I was sure I'd run out but forgot that as the sock gets longer it also gets narrower.  That saved me.  I didn't really get much done since I found myself sitting staring at the TV instead of knitting but at least I finished the sock.

 

 

22 August--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's. 

The group of bikers became legend in Better Than Mom’s.  Fay came to think of them right up there with movie heroes like Indiana Jones, Clark Gable, and her personal favorite, James Bond or Sean Connery. Her half of the enormous tip allowed her to ransom her Honda and return to feeling like a human being.  She hated being without wheels and always thought of a zillion places to go when her car was laid up. Naomi decided that they were angels sent from heaven to give solace to her and Fay, and to live as examples to the lowlifes who stiffed them on tips.  She used part of the money to buy Marcus new jeans and the rest she squirreled into her hidey hole for a rainy day.  Since her adult life had at times seemed like one long rainy day, saving that last thirty-five bucks seemed like the best plan. 

Brady grumbled that he hoped that they never came back because of all the other business they had scared away.  “We need those jokers like we need holes in our heads,” he would say when Fay and Naomi got to fantasizing about where they came from and if they would come back. 

Fay never admitted it, even to herself, but that Sunday encounter left her with a lifelong crush on Fearless Leader.  She looked for him whenever she saw a line of motorcycles outside a bar or restaurant.  Her head would come up and her eyes dart to the window whenever one roared past the diner. And a group of them passing her on the highway would send her swerving to the shoulder to stop and watch them go by, hoping against hope to see Fearless Leader’s silver ponytail and beard waving at her from under a midnight blue helmet.  They never came back to the diner and no one ever saw them again. 

What Fay and Naomi did not know was that the group of bikers was made up of one district attorney (Fearless Leader), two doctors (Mom’s Revenge and Road Rash), an artist and a gallery owner (Thunderpants and Black Lightning, a homosexual couple), an accountant (Mud Face), an insurance agency owner (Splat), and a broker (Flats).  All of them lived in the next county, had short hair (Fearless Leader’s ponytail was a hairpiece--do not ever tell Fay), none of whom had tattoos (they bought up all the press-on tattoos the dollar store had to offer, well, except for the ones of flowers and kitties), but who dressed up in their leathers and bandanas to take long weekend rides to unwind.  They were careful to stop outside their own county and were reliably boisterous but seldom destructive.  They got a charge out of seeing sober citizens flee when they pulled up to a diner like Better Than Mom’s and always ordered food their wives, girlfriends, or doctors would not have sanctioned.  They abided by the rules of the road, always wore their helmets, and left outrageous tips.  They did not know it but they were becoming legend, the stuff of dreams, in their part of the state among waitresses.  

Today's toss was a huge bag of beach towels.  We used to have a pool so I had a pile, no, a PILE of towels that lived on the back porch.  I don't know why I've kept them all since we haven't had a pool in, oh, more than 15 years.  I kept the two best ones and the rest will go to new homes.

--Barbara