A Red Bird

 We had another beautiful day, sunny and warm.  So warm that we broke a record for the high temperature.

A Cardinal visited and instead of landing on the platform feeder as usual he spent time on the ground pecking around in the fallen seed.  It took three tries to get a photo where you can see him.  You wouldn't think that a bright red bird would be so camouflaged in green grass.

I spent an hour transcribing part of that old story as my NaNoWriMo work for the day.  I have a few more pages to transcribe and then I'll be on my own having to make up new stuff every day.  I hope I can get into the swing of it without too much trouble.

I finished the Cashew Marl Dishcloth this evening.  For once weaving in the ends went easily and well.  I have faith that they won't come poking out at the first use.  I think next I'll knit up some more cast toe socks which means digging out balls of leftover yarn.

08 November--Barbara Malcolm, The Seaview. 

Chapter 9

            I decided to give myself some time off the next day to go to the grocery and do a few errands before I went back to the Seaview.  My first stop was at Vista Market at the top of the hill above Sandy Ground.  I hadn't gone far down the first aisle when I heard a pleasant voice say, "Good morning, Mrs. Rose, how are you today?" 

            I smiled as I turned around.  “Good morning, Mrs. O’Neill, I’m well, and you?”

            Mrs. O’Neill nodded her head.  “Fine, I am fine.”

            I was pleased to walk around Vista Market with Mrs. O’Neill.  I had been meaning to walk back down the beach to the Barrel Stave restaurant to get better acquainted with my neighbor.

            “How are your renovations going?” Mrs. O’Neill asked. “I see that Silas is working for you.  He is a good boy.”

            “A hard worker too,” I agreed.

            We walked the aisles of the small store debating the merits of the breads and squeezing melons.  The cheese kept us occupied for quite a while. “There are a lot of cheeses here today,” I said.

            “Yes," she said, "that freighter out in Road Bay carried it from the Dutch islands; they have the best cheese.”

            I spied a wedge of Gouda paler than the rest.  I read the label, “Gouda Cabritu” it said.  “Oh, goat gouda,” I said, “we love that.  Jim found it once in the market in Bonaire and…”  Tears filmed my vision.  I brushed them away.  “I thought I was over that.”

            She patted my arm.  “Some things you never get over.  I remember how Mr. Jim treated you.  He was a good man.”

            I nodded.  “He was.  Sometimes I miss him so much.  He’d have been having a ball getting the Seaview fixed up and ready to open.”  As the words left my mouth I realized that they were a bit of a lie.  Jim wasn’t as eager to open a B&B as I was but he’d humored me.

            It was so pleasant having a conversation with a woman my age that I tagged behind Mrs. O’Neill as she gathered up a great many more groceries than I did.  “Thank you for keeping me company, Mrs. Rose, I enjoyed having a woman to talk to while I shopped.”

            On impulse I touched her hand. “Please call me Rose, just Rose, no Mrs.  I hope we can be friends.”

            She looked down at our hands resting together on the handle of her cart.  “Then you must call me Rebecca,” she said, putting her other hand on top of both of ours.

            "I’d like that, Rebecca.”

            We paid for our groceries and walked out to our cars.  She turned back down the hill into Sandy Ground and I turned toward The Valley to see what was to be had at the farmer’s market under the tree at the crossroads.  I was happy that I had made a friend.

Today's toss was another bag of outdated canned goods.  I didn't think I had that much old stuff downstairs but checking "best by" dates on items tells me that I did.  I don't now and the trash bin has it.

I let my fingers do the walking through the internet today and have some Christmas gifts on the way.  It's November, time to be thinking of presents for people.  And, I must admit, for myself too.

--Barbara