Hanging Around

The squirrels came back to the feeders today with a vengeance.  They were nowhere in sight yesterday, leaving the new-fallen snow untouched.  Not so today.  One came, then another, then two more dashing over the snow, climbing up to nab a peanut, and then scurrying back to wherever squirrels hide their nuts.  This one was too late for a peanut so it hung around the suet pellets.  I've noticed that there's a hierarchy of food--peanuts first, then suet pellets, and finally suet cakes.  The cob corn gets left for the squirrels that aren't allowed on the other feeders.  It's quite the society.  And now the snow is all tracked up.

I was just quick enough to see the Downy Woodpecker on the suet cakes.  He didn't stop at the pellets today but went straight to the cakes.  The stuff has to be frozen solid so I wonder how much of a bite it gets when it pecks at the cake.

Today's knitting produced January Preemie Hat #5, finished it anyway.  This is the oddest color yarn.  The color is called Raspberry Drift but it blends into the tweedy couch until it's nearly invisible.  When it was done I cast on another toe cap cast sock to work on tomorrow.

Lala and I agreed that our last art assignment was an exercise in observation but both of us are pretty observant so it wasn't very challenging.  Figuring it out cheered me up so on that note it was worth doing.  She picked the next one; it's called Muster.  It asks you to champion a cause, write a manifesto, and cobble together a uniform.  We agreed that we'd make a collage or a drawing instead so I spent quite a bit of the afternoon scribbling and drawing.  I wish I could draw better but I'll keep practicing.

25 January--Barbara Malcolm, The Seaview. 

The kids were enthusiastic about my idea to start a crafts group that would include guests and locals, and Elizabeth planned that Monday morning she would get to work combing the markets for ingredients to make into unique muffins. 

“You need a signature dish, Rose,” she said, “and since this is going to be a bed & breakfast, it might as well be muffins.  Everyone loves muffins.”  She buried her face in a pad of paper muttering about batter and how different fruits would act in it. 

Bright and early Sunday morning under the disapproving eye of Sydans’ bible group-hosting neighbor, the cargo crane truck made its ponderous way down Sandy Ground.  It deposited container number two precisely next to the first one and, when it was placed just as the operator wanted it, he jumped out, unhooked it and hitched up the empty one.  A flick of the joysticks and it was winched up.  He slowly turned the driving cab around, and then he made his way back to the cargo dock on the other end of the bay.  The entire operation took about an hour.

Once that was done, we respected the Customs seals on the doors and left.  Knowing that we couldn’t do anything with it until Monday morning when Mr. Gomez and his magic clipboard would return, it was with a clear conscience that we gathered up our dive gear and went on a couple of dives with Dougie as divemaster and Freddy driving the boat. 

As we rode out toward Sandy Deep dive site Marie leaned over and whispered in my ear.  “You know, Mom, I will bet you could attract some of the sailboat crowd too.” 

I shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Most of the ones I have seen since I have been here have been couples more interested in drinking and dancing and hollering at Johnno’s than having a quiet meal and a stroll on the beach, but I’ll think about it.” 

She patted my hand.  “I’ll do some research while I’m here.  Maybe there’s a charter service that caters to women sailors.”

Today's toss was an old fleece jacket I bought for Durwood and put away in a safe place.  Found it today.  Bye!

The writing prompt today asked for your most viewed webpage and what that says about you.  Really?  How is that supposed to engender creative writing?   I hope no one got a big paycheck for thinking up these prompts.

--Barbara