Not Much...

 ... to report today.  It was sunny this morning and the birds were very active.  A Bluejay came to peck through the fallen seed under the feeder but didn't stay long enough for a portrait.  Then a Downy Woodpecker came to cavort around the suet feeder and the birdbath support, even took a ride on a Slinky, but left before I could take its picture.  Dang it.  One day I'll get a picture of him on the Slinky.

Dad's roses are still putting on a show.  The buds are so small and sweet, tightly furled, I can't resist taking more pictures.  I promise a different flower tomorrow.  Cross my heart.

This afternoon, after a jaunt to the pharmacy for a prescription and to make an appointment to get a flu shot on Friday, I sorted through some yarn and put all of the alpaca and llama yarns in the same tote so the next time I want to fondle it I'll know where it is.  It took me a few years to realize that on Ravelry (the fiber fanatic's website) there's a place to list where the yarn is stored on the entry so that you have a ghost of a chance finding it when you want it.  So I'm trying to note where I put things to ease frustrated digging and grumbling.

While I was down there I came across some tweed bulky yarn that would be good for a warm beanie for the Seamen's Church Institute Christmas at Sea.  Items need to be mailed next month (which starts tomorrow!) so I might not get the hat done in time but... there's always next year.  I like making things for that charity because oceangoing ships sail into Green Bay, right into the middle of the city, and I like seeing the big boats close up.  Even though this yarn is listed as the same size as the alpaca I knitted this hat from before, it's way bigger.  I was concerned that the alpaca hat would be too small for me (it isn't) but there's no doubt that this hat will fit.  Somebody.

30 September--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's. 

For her part, Fay was not quite as excited about the coming date.  When she got off work, she walked the block to her apartment and immediately took a shower to wash the grease smell out of her hair and off her skin.  She always felt as if she had been lightly sprayed with vegetable oil and her work clothes frankly reeked of French fries.  Not that that was a bad thing.  She loved her job, loved being a waitress.  She met the most interesting people and made pretty good money.  Oh, there were some assholes that made some days long but she was certain there were assholes that everyone in every job had to deal with. 

After her shower she dried off, shaved her legs and armpits, dried her hair and let it flow down her back.  She leaned close to the mirror to check that she did not have any gray roots showing.  Not more than a year ago she would have been checking for brown roots, but all of a sudden what grew out of her scalp was unfortunately more gray hair than brown.  Then she stood in front of her closet glaring at her wardrobe.  She would have called Naomi to come and help her decide what to wear but Naomi and Brady were out on their own date and so Fay was on her own.  She knew she would wear her favorite pencil legged jeans; she was slim, even skinny, so she could get away with tight tapered jeans that made other, plumper women envious.  She kind of enjoyed being the target of that envy. 

But what top to wear.  It was fall so she supposed she could wear a sweater, but she was reluctant to give in to autumn just yet.  It was too chilly at night to wear a tank top and at forty, oh all right, forty-two, she was getting a little old to wear them anyway.  Wait a minute, she could wear a tank top, one with spaghetti straps and put her new boat neck sweater over it.  She had gotten the sweater at the thrift shop down the road and she loved it.  It was heavy cotton knit, almost hand knitted looking, in dark rose and teal, colors Fay loved.  It had three quarter length sleeves which were perfect for the warm evenings and cooler nights of this time of year. 

Now, which shoes?  She did not have to worry about any of her heels making her taller than Norman, he had to be six foot four at least and she was barely over five foot seven, so that was no problem.  But what if he wanted to dance?  Nah, he probably would not.  Not many men liked to dance so she did not have to worry about wearing shoes that would hurt her feet.  Besides they were headed to a country supper club with live music, which probably meant either a twangy country combo, somebody’s aunt who sang out of tune and imagined herself a lounge singer, or an oompah band with an accordion.  Yeesh. 

Fay decided to leave her hair down for once, give Norman a little surprise.  She went easy on the cologne and put on her makeup with a much lighter hand than she did every day for work.  She wriggled her way into her favorite skinny jeans that made her look like she actually had an ass, and carefully lifted her boobs into a lacy cupped bra that she had spent a week’s tips for in Victoria’s Secret when she was still trying to compete with Butch’s pool cue. Over it she slid into her white spaghetti strap tank and over that she snuggled into her new sweater.  She took a look at herself in the mirror on the back of her closet door.  She looked good.  She took off the sweater and brushed her teeth—for the second time and rinsed with some store brand mouthwash that tasted a little like kerosene and burned like hell.  She put her sweater back on, hooked some sparkly, dangly earrings in her ears and picked through her jewelry box to find a necklace that hung in just the right place.  She finally settled on a choker with a piece of rose quartz that she thought looked great with the dark rose stripe in her sweater. 

One look at the clock on the stove, it was two minutes to six, and she stopped fiddling with her jewelry, hair, and sweater, slid her feet into her favorite sling back heels, and transferred her wallet, makeup bag, and cheap pay as you go cell phone to the matching bag.  She knew Norman would be punctual and he was.  He rang the bell and when Fay opened the door, he just stood there staring at her. 

Today's toss was some Harry Potter collectibles that have been hanging around since the beginning of the HP craze.  I know there's probably a collector or twelve out there who would have paid me for the stuff but I'm more interested in getting things out of the house than making a few bucks and having to box it up and ship it off, especially in these COVID times.

I Zoomed with a couple friends from high school this afternoon.  One lives in Minnesota and the other lives in Indiana and we were planning to meet in July for a weekend but that didn't happen so we started zooming once a month to keep up.  It's fun.

--Barbara