Windy

 It has been unbelievably windy today.  It was so windy that there were waves in the tiny body of water in the birdbath.  Not whitecaps but enough that it showed in a picture.  I was glad that I didn't have to go anywhere today.  Last weekend when the temps were in the 70s spoiled me.

The recipe today was Slow Cooker Chicken, Mushroom, Brown Rice Casserole.  It cooks the longest of any of the recipes because of the brown rice.  I got it plugged in at 11 o'clock and it was done at 6 o'clock.  That was seven long hours of smelling the delightful aroma of chicken, Worcestershire sauce, and mushrooms.  It made eight servings and I had only seven of the round Tupperwares so I had to eat the eighth serving for supper.  Oh, poor me.  It was delicious, if I do say so myself.  I know that this picture doesn't do it justice but it was easier to measure out the rice mixture into servings and then weigh the meat on top.  I could have taken a better picture of the serving that I ate but I didn't think of it until too late.  Ah well.

I added a few rounds on the latest cast sock.  I like the colors.  Once again I tried to knit while watching Call the Midwife and ended up with my attention riveted to the TV and my hands still in my lap.  That's okay, it isn't a race.  And I have to remember that other people just watch TV without something else to keep their hands busy.

15 November--Barbara Malcolm, The Seaview. 

I hurried down to Sydans as fast as I could, grabbed that old iron ring of keys, and raced back.  I knelt between Silas and Edward and fumbled with the keys.  "It has to be one of these skeleton keys," I said, and slid one into the hole.  It wouldn't turn.  I tried each of the five oldest keys on the ring and none turned the lock.  I sat back on my heels.  "Damn, I was sure that I'd have the right key." 

            Silas still stared down at the floor.  "Maybe you do but maybe all the years of damp and salt froze the lock."  He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.  "Edward, run down to Johnno's and ask Dad for the can of lubricant." 

            Edward jumped up and tore out of the room like he was going to get the code to stop a nuclear war. 

            "Do you think it's a good idea to drip oil in there?  What if there are papers that will be ruined?" 

            He turned to look at me.  "I am not shinnying under the floor to loose it from the bottom. Probably big spiders and mean lizards live under there."

             I felt my cheeks burn. "Of course not.  That isn't what I meant at all.  I just don't want anything ruined.  If there's anything in there, I mean." 

            Edward came back empty handed.  "Johnno says that Claude borrowed it and never brought it back."

            I stood up, making my knees crack.  "Ouch.  Tell me what we need and where to find it and I'll go get some.  You two finish getting all this furniture out of here while I'm gone." 

            Silas told me which auto parts store on the road to Blowing Point usually had what we needed and I left.  I enjoyed the breeze coming in the car window but couldn't tear my mind away from wondering what was behind that lock.  If there was anything in there.

Today's toss was an old WW cookbook that I didn't find any worthy recipes in and a volume of Walt Whitman poetry.

Today is the middle of the month and I'm supposed to have 25,000 words written if I'm on pace to hit 50,000 on the 30th.  I don't.  I'm about 1500 words short which doesn't really disturb me all that much.  Every day I sit here and blather out what my day has been about and then I segue into the story for a few pages.  I'm happy that it's getting easier to make up the story part of my daily writing.  That was my whole purpose for doing NaNoWriMo this year.  And maybe I'll get a halfway decent story out of it.  Maybe.

--Barbara