A Rainy Start

 It was dark-ish when I woke up this morning and soon it started to rain.  And, man, did it rain--

for about twenty minutes.  After dripping around for a few minutes, the clouds thinned and the sun came out.  We all know what that means--the rain turned into humidity as the day heated up.  Dandy.  But it's supposed to be cooler starting tomorrow and a lot less humid.  Yay!  I'm not a fan of the humidity.

More roses bloomed today and when I checked them out none of them had Japanese beetles.  I'm sure that they will find their way back but for now the roses are safe and unchewed.

I got a picture of a hummingbird!  Finally.  I saw it fly to the lantana flowers so I grabbed the camera and got ready just in case it went to the feeder and it did.  I got one picture; the second frame was hummingbird-less.  Of course when I was doing yoga I saw one on the nectar feeder and it stayed for nearly a minute.  All I could do was watch from my pose.

This afternoon I finished Cast Sock 5.  I really like the colors of this yarn.  It's one of those self-striping ones so all I have to do is knit and these nice stripes appear like magic.  I do wish that the denim blue on the top and bottom was wider so it made more of a statement but you pays your money and you takes your chances.  Like I said, I like the colors.  I think I'll knit a preemie hat with it next.

The sky was a beautiful shade of peach/pink/purple tonight at sundown.  I was out talking to a neighbor and watched the sky change colors.  I'm glad I managed to get a halfway decent picture despite all the wires in the way.

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

“What events?” asked Fay as they followed the officer inside. 

Naomi just shrugged her shoulders.  Since Fay had been the one to see the destruction first, she was asked to sit in Brady’s office with Officer Bates and go over and over what she saw when she first went into the diner from the kitchen. 

“Did you see a person in the diner when you walked in at,” he consulted his notes, “five fifty-seven A.M.?” 

Fay answered each question as best she could but did not offer any extra information than was asked for.  “No, I did not.”  

“What was the first thing you noticed when you entered the diner?” 

“The first thing I noticed was the big shards of glass sparkling in the waiting area bench.”  

“What did you notice next?” 

“The smell.”  She shuddered with the memory of that sickening sweet and sour stench. 

“Do you know of anyone who has a grudge against Mister Gallagher or the diner?” 

“Well, on the day Brady hired me, I overheard him fire his last assistant because he made lumpy gravy.  But I do not think he minded so much.  He still comes in for coffee and sometimes for lunch.  He and Brady seem to have made their peace.” 

“And his name is?”  She gave it, certain from watching the policeman make a tick beside a line on the previous page that Brady had already told him about the firing.  “Anyone else?” 

“Well, Brady was complaining a while back about a pack of nine-year-olds who were trying to scam him out of Cokes or ice cream cones without paying.  He also suspected they were pulling out the plants from the window boxes.”  

“Nine-year-olds?” 

“Yeah.  I suggested that he offer the boys an opportunity to do little chores around the place.  You know, empty the trash, sweep the lot, stuff like that, in exchange for a soda or ice cream.” 

“And did he do as you suggested?” 

She nodded.  “Yes, he did.” 

“And they stopped harassing him?” 

“Yeah, if you can call a kid trying to get a free soda harassment, I guess they did.” 

“Do these boys, all boys?”  She nodded agreement.  “Do they still come around and help out?” 

Fay shook her head.  “Not so much now that school has started.  Mostly in the summer when they are bored, one or two of them will come in looking for a little treat so who ever is not busy will set them to going around the place emptying the trash or hauling a bus tub or two, then we set them down at the end of the counter and ‘pay’ them in ice cream or soda, their choice.”  She smiled.  “They have to work more, or do a better job, to get ice cream.  All in all, they are pretty nice kids.  There just is not much for them to do to stay out of trouble in this neighborhood.” 

Officer Bates looked up at her.  “Ms. Taylor, are you married?” 

She smiled her foolproof flirt’s smile guaranteed to make a man weak in the knees.  “I am separated.”

From the blank look on Officer Bates’ face, Fay understood that he was not asking that question from personal interest.  She turned her head and craned around to get a good look at Officer Bates’ left hand.  No ring.  Now, that did not automatically mean he was not married.  She had plenty of experience with married me who did not wear rings.  No telltale white marks on their ring fingers, no thinning of the skin to mark where a ring might usually be.  Some men just did not wear rings and others’ jobs would not let them wear them for safety reasons.  Yeah, and some men are purely dishonest creeps, she thought, and just do not care who they hurt, whether it is the woman they have vowed to love for the rest of their lives or the woman they have just met down at Shorty’s Pub on pool league night.  She did not think Butch had ever been unfaithful.  He was too in love with playing pool and his damned custom-made pool cue.  Well, she had taken care of that love affair, hadn’t she?  She thought her idea of selling the cue on eBay right out from under his nose was the most brilliant one of her life.  The fact that she got away with it even though some of Butch’s pool buddies haunted eBay looking for assorted pool paraphernalia and his prized cue was on there for a full week without them blowing the whistle on it, led her to believe that Butch was not the beloved member of the pool playing community he imagined he was. 

Today's toss was the canning kettle with the jar lifter and jar filling funnel inside.  I realized that I'm not going to be doing any more canning so why keep it?  There are definite spaces in the basement shelves but there's still plenty more stuff to toss.  I won't be done anytime soon.

--Barbara