Man, I'm sitting here and my mind is a blank. Well, not a blank exactly because I'm still breathing and I think my heart is beating... yep, beating... and there's a stupid commercial jingle capering around back there somewhere (588-2300 Empire, today!), but that's it.
I had a couple customers at work yesterday. One guy wanted to buy a mask with corrective lenses before he leaves on his trip to Panama TODAY (way to plan ahead, guy) and we had a mask and the -8.0 lenses (blind, much?) in stock, but do you think I could install them so that the mask didn't leak? No, I could not, and I tried and tried and tried, for 45 minutes I tried. I even grabbed a different mask to see if the first one was the problem but no matter what I did it leaked. (I think that the lens edges were just too thick for them to fit nicely in the space allowed; they smooshed the silicone skirt funny so it didn't seal, that's what I think) Finally I had a brainstorm and checked to see if we had -8.0 lenses in the discontinued style mask & changeable lenses, we did, so I fitted him with the mask, popped the lenses in, and BOOM!, got it right the first time. Of course those were a bit pricier than the once he'd picked out first so I gave him a little discount and got the final price to within twenty bucks of the original. He was patient and understanding and patient. A nice guy.
My second customer paid for a pair of fins with one of the new $100 bills. Have you seen them? They don't look like American money at all. They're blue. Blue! And there's a shiny strip and other colors--it's very confusing, doesn't look American (gray and green) at all. Like play money. But it didn't make a weird color line when I swiped it with the iodine pen so I took it and gave her change. I know that counterfeiters are more wily so they need to try to stay ahead of them but, really people, BLUE money?
There were some Olympics on the TV last night but Durwood said they were just no-counting prelims so I didn't plunge into my Ravellenic Games projects. That'll happen today when the Olympic Games open for real. Since I'm working on projects already in progress I won't be taking part in the "mass cast-on" but I'll be knitting along just the same. I spent all day yesterday and most of the evening knitting something onto a hat for LC and after I finished the first one (of two) realized that it was in the wrong place. You see I wrote "was," that's because I ripped it out this morning. I'll be redoing it in a few minutes.
February 7--China, Altarpiece Dedicated to Buddha Maitreya. Diane smelled incense and oranges. She groped her way down the dark hallway and came out into the bright shrine. Against the wall was the Buddha looking serene but questioning. He doubted her motives, Diane could tell. The clouds of incense obscured her view of the statue and made the light flicker.
And now it's time to go play with yarn. I might go to Stein's to look at birdbaths. I might stay in the house and stay warm. Only time will tell, time and boredom. Maybe I'll go get us a pizza for lunch. Maybe I'll do that tomorrow instead. I have to go out sometime this weekend for soup ingredients because I need soup and fruit for work lunches. Gotta make soup, it's winter.
--Barbara
That's what I want to talk about today, baby feets. I stopped at DS & DIL1's after work to have supper and spend the evening with Miss LC while Daddy & Mama went to band practice. It was lovely. While we were eating (spinach & cucumber salad, meatloaf, roasted Brussels sprouts & squash, and roasted potatoes) LC wasn't happy to be ignored so she was fussing. Daddy picked her up but she wasn't happy with a seated effort so I took her so they could finish their meal and get to practice on time. (I'm selfless like that.) She wasn't swaddled, she was in a little bag sleeper with an elastic opening at the bottom and one of her little feet was dangling out. Porter was very interested in that little dangling footsie, she sat at attention in front of me while I shushed and swooped, ears perked, like she was making sure I was taking care of her baby right. But that little foot was cold so I tucked her into her swaddle and snuggled her up. After Daddy & Mama left LC and I had a nice chat about what we're going to do once she's a little bit older, like sing songs and dance and play
outside and take walks, also do crafts and make messes. She liked that last part a lot. The best part, well, one of the best parts is that they left a bottle for me to give her. I got to feed LC all by myself. She was an enthusiastic participant in the whole thing and once her belly was full she was pretty darned alert so we looked at a doohickey, a toy thing that rattles and has a black and white bullseye on it. Babies her age like high-contrast. I laid her in her pack 'n play with it propped on her sleepy sheep and she was very interested for a few minutes. Of course you understand that she's got the attention span of a gnat right now but it was fun to see how she's changed since last time. Not quite such a jelly bean anymore, there's a person in there, I can tell.
I missed the sunrise this morning but when I looked at the western sky I saw it had moved over there. See how the horizon's pale lavender and pink? Pretty cool, huh? It's real cold again, clear but cold. I nearly froze at work yesterday, I'm not sure why. You'd better bet I'll be even more bundled up today. I'll care less about fashion and more about layers. Every time I think I look especially good no one comes in and I freeze my tucchus off. Not doing that again, people can just deal with me looking like a cross between an Eskimo and the Michelin Man if they want scuba gear.
February 6--George Luks, Boy with Baseball. It was torture having to sit on that green bench while the rest of the guys were out playing ball. Pop had this friend who painted pictures so as a favor he told the old guy he could paint Ladd. Ladd was the littlest kid in the neighborhood but he had a real baseball, a leather one with the red stitching and everything, so he got in the game. For three straight days right after breakfast Ladd had to get dressed just so then spend hours sitting absolutely still, have lunch in the corner of the room, go right back to sitting still until the painter said "the light was going," and quit for the day. Ladd never asked where the old guy thought the light was going, he was just glad to change clothes and get out for a couple innings before full dark.
Allrighty. I got my audiobook renewed and re-transferred so I can finish listening today. (it was due last night and I wasn't quite done so I was thrilled to be able to renew it) It's The Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Pie Society; I read it when it came out a few years ago but I think I'm enjoying listening to it more than I enjoyed reading it. Or maybe I'm just more in the mood for that kind of book. I don't know but I recommend it if you haven't read it. Are you reading anything good?
--Barbara
I went out in the late morning yesterday to do a few errands before Durwood and I went to do more important Errands (food and a microwave) in the afternoon. First I cashed my paycheck and it's a darned good thing I learned to count the money in the envelope before I drive away because it was about $80 short. I just parked, went in, and asked the drive-through teller to recount the money. Oops. See, I asked her for 3-$50 bills and evidently counting up from $150 by $20 was a bit of a problem, but she eventually got it. Then I went to the bird seed store where I found an item of faith that Spring would indeed come--a new Oriole feeder. And it might be one that the ants don't take over. We hope every year to have more than one or two oriole sightings; this might be the year. None of the rest of the errands: library, pharmacy, Fleet Farm for granola (it was 5 boxes for $10, a steal), Home Depot for a "day" light bulb were very interesting, although I am thrilled to have my "day" light shining again. I forget how much it does for me until it's burned out (or I forget to turn it on).
Durwood and I went to Woodman's and bought more veggies than we have room in the fridge for. This is not a bad problem to have, to have to eat more veggies. Trying to cram all the Brussels sprouts and carrots and cho-cho (woohoo! chayote/christophine/mirliton--whatever you call it we like it) into the drawers I remembered the 2 bags of Meyer lemons I got at Walmart last week. So after supper I unearthed the fruit squeezer bequeathed to me by Mom (it was a wedding gift in 1950) and made juice. Then I measured a tablespoon into each ice cube cup, froze them overnight, and now they're bagged in the freezer for Durwood to cook with. Plus it made the kitchen smell great.
I didn't get a single idea from last night's art prompt so there's no piece of story for you today, not even a lame poem. *sigh*
Tonight after work I have (get) to go spend the evening with Miss LC while Daddy & Mama go off to band practice. Oh. Darn.
--Barbara
I reread what I wrote on here yesterday (especially that paragraph about how sorry I am that I'm in the scrap heap days of my life now that the kids are adults and out there being all grown up and independent) and realized that I am in the throes of my annual, mid-winter, cabin-feverish depression, probably caused by low sunlight and the neverending cold. (also my full-spectrum "day" light bulb burned out the other day. Gah! I'm getting one later.) That flash of self-awareness (heh, I just typed self-awareMess, which is probably quite a bit more apt, ask Durwood) has lifted me ever-so-slightly above the basement of my depression/recession/obsession so that the smallest of lights is shining in my day. Also the sun was out for a while this morning so I bundled up and went out INTO THE SUNLIGHT to fill the feeders (it's cloudy now). Even though it was something like -3 degrees I enjoyed it because the sun was shining upon me, reflecting off the blindingly white snow, and vitamin D was flooding my parched self. (you take what you can get around here) If it's ever 20 degrees around here in the morning again, I'll go back to walking Porter.
It was quiet at work yesterday, a couple customers came in and bought things and I finalized arrangements for a couple of refresher classes. I'd like to be busier so can you please come in and buy a fin strap or snorkel keeper? Maybe you could learn to SCUBA dive and come in for a whole lot of gear... but then you'd probably go on a fabulous vacation to someplace with warm, clear water, hot and cold running beach boys, and little drinks with fruit, rum, and paper umbrellas...and then I'd sink even lower into the pit of envy than I already do when vacationers come in. Yeah, maybe you shouldn't.
February 4--Egypt, Faience Sistrum Inscribed with the name of Ptolemy I. The little face of the pharaoh looked out at Laine from the jumble of beads and trinkets. She wasn't a real fan of the color blue but the turquoise faience reminded her of the color of the water over her favorite Caribbean reef so she bought it. It only cost a few dollars and would be the perfect souvenir. She liked the weight of the small thing and how it fit neatly in the palm of her hand. She would never have bought it if she'd known the trouble it would cause.
Time to go make something of today. There will be check cashing and errand running and, I hope, some couch sitting. It is my day off, after all.
--Barbara
Can't trust that day, say the philosophers, The Mamas and the Papas, or whoever wrote that song. It's such an abrupt thing, Monday is. I mean, here you are enjoying the weekend and BAM! Monday happens and you're back in the saddle, off to work, being all hygienic, and dressed appropriately. It's just too sudden, especially when it's the beginning of February and it's still dark when your alarm(s) go off and nearly dark when you leave work, plus there's a whole lot of winter left to endure. BUT there will be a paycheck, and a larger one at that, waiting for me when I unlock the door to the treasure trove that is the dive shop so I can't be too sorry that it's Monday, now, can I?
I want to go someplace. Do you have a someplace for me to go to? It needs to be close by and not cost an arm and a leg. Or I want DD to come home so I can hug her and squeeze her and call her... oh wait, that's her cat, her girl cat, so I need to figure out something else to call her, but I still want her here and I don't want to share her with anybody. Okay, maybe Durwood, and I suppose I can share her with Daddy & Mama & LC because that's really why she wants to come, to meet LC and store up a bunch of auntie snuggles before she goes back to Kentucky and her LC-less days. Also her Mom-less days. (waaaahhhhh) When the kids were small and life was so hectic and demanding I never thought I'd get to a place where I could say that I miss being so busy and necessary but here I am missing the he!! out of it. Not that I'm not thrilled and proud of how grown up they are but they're so independent and self-reliant... gah, my/our fault, I/we raised them that way. Sometimes it sucks to be so successful at something so important. (don't mind me, I'll be over here in the corner plucking out my own liver)
Wow, I need to lighten up and cheer up. Good thing it looks like it's going to be a sunny day, even though that means cold I need the sun. N. E. E. D. it. It's 7:40 AM and the sun's almost up high enough to clear the park trees and houses along Fisk St... come on, sun! You can do it.
I got a few more rounds onto the first men's chemo hat. If I can make 3 of them a month, that'd be a good number for 2014 charity knitting, wouldn't it? Of course I'd need to whip out 3 for January to have a year's worth but I can pound out a few extra this month and next to catch up. It's a simple pattern, one round of double crochets and then one round of single crochets, repeat until you have a hat. Easy peasy. This first one will be all black but the pattern's written for the round of scs to be a contrast color so that's what the next one will be. Maybe I'll alternate, make one solid and one two-color, that'd break up the monotony, and I have plenty of solid color soft yarn in the stash. Yay for stash yarn!
February 3--Jean-Leon Gerome, Cafe House, Cairo (Casting Bullets). Something was sizzling when Celine stepped into the cafe. It was such a change from the bright sunlight of the street to the dimness in the cafe her eyes took extra time to adjust. A hand came out of the murk to guide her into a chair. "Sit here, miss, it is the best place." By the time she was seated she could see the owner of the voice and, she assumed, the hand. He could have come from Central Casting, he was everyone's vision of an Egyptian cafe owner--bald but with an aggressive moustache, plump, and smiling. His white apron was spotless and the rag he swiped across her table was clean too. "You want tea?" he asked. "Coffee," she said. "Egyptian coffee?" He sounded almost shocked but went behind the counter for it when she nodded. She heard the sizzle again and turned to see a pair of men pouring molten metal into a mold. She wondered what they were making.
Bullets, that's what they're making. I wonder if Celine is as intrepid as Amelia Peabody was. I'm sad that Elizabeth Peters has died so there'll be no more Peabody books... but I can reread them all, can't I? I think I might just do that, that'd cheer me up no end. I'll check for audiobooks today while I'm at work (I already own them all in the old-school, paper format); I hope they got a decent reader. Audiobooks let me "read" and knit or sew at the same time. Multitasking at its best. Now it's time to multitask myself into the day--even if it is the dreaded Monday. Seeyabye.
--Barbara
This afternoon I mustered up my guts and took in the armpits of the Khaki Cardi. It was a harrowing experience but I took my time, measured twice, sewed, and then cut (with my heart in my throat the whole time). It's so much better feeling on I can't tell you. It's still too big and it still pulls up in the back but it no longer looks like a Smart Car cozy. It sure is warm; I should have done this weeks ago and I'd have stayed a lot warmer during the last couple polar vortexes (vortices?). I'm ready now.
I didn't manage to find time to stop to see LC this week so I toodled on over this morning. DS told me that she's pretty much grown out of her 3 month size clothes, some of which she hasn't worn (I remember that). They decided to see how she liked her underwater play mat while I was there. It was okay, for a minute, then it wasn't, then... Daddy is best. (but look at the frown she's giving him, looks like she's thinking "and don't let it happen again") Porter doesn't like it one bit when LC fusses, she gets anxious and paces around trying to get some adult to see about that puppy that isn't happy, and someone usually does. Wednesday evening is band practice for Daddy and Mama so Grandma (that'd be me) gets to stay with Miss LC. I promised her a rollicking good time. She's a month old tomorrow. Already. Pretty soon she'll be off to college.
I spent yesterday afternoon tossing my stash, finding WIPs, and the evening looking up patterns to make with the flirtatious yarn that wouldn't stay downstairs another minute. I was surprised and amazed that I found only 5 WIPs, instead of the dozen I anticipated. (maybe I'm doing a better job of frogging or finishing) I've decided to sign up for the Ravellenic Winter Games group over on Ravelry so I chose 3 of the WIPs to enter into the WIPs Dancing category and I also plan to crochet a few men's chemo hats for MW to take to the VA. I've been falling down on the charity hat production and crocheting them is much faster for me, so I hauled up a skein of black and got cracking last night before bed. I got a few rounds made. It's a start. The Winter Olympics run from Feb. 7 to Feb. 23, I figure I can use them as motivation to get a few more WIPs into the FO (Finished Object) column. I suggested to the Friday Night Knitters that we all play along. I'm not sure if anyone's on board but I've signed up and will play by myself. Not that I mind, you understand, I just thought it'd be fun for the group.
February 2--Central Anatolia, Vessel Terminating in the Forepart of a Stag. "Take it out." At first Tom thought Hank had said it but then Steve shoved past him. Tom grabbed Steve by the shirt. "No." He jerked him back into the doorway. "No, you can't help him and you might mess up clues if you try. He isn't alive, he's not breathing, and that's too much blood." Steve's eyes were wide and full of fear. "Who did this, Tom? Why Hank?" Tom pulled his friend out onto the porch. "I don't know, I just don't know." He patted his pockets to find his cellphone. "We gotta call the sheriff." He tapped the screen, waited, and then tapped again. "No signal. Do you have one?" Steve checked and shook his head. Tom said, "One of us needs to go for help. Do you want to or should I?" "I'll go," Steve said, "I'll go get help. You stay here with... with Hank."
I just realized that I meant to go to Stein's and look at the on sale birdbaths today. I'd better go since it's Sunday and there's that football game later. Happy Groundhog Day, by the way. Did any of them see their shadow? Wait, not seeing its shadow is the "early spring" one, right? Let's hope so or somebody better be having braised Punxatawny Phil for Superbowl supper. Just saying.
--Barbara
Durwood was supposed to meet his cronies for their monthly breakfast this morning but when he heard the TV weather guy say "5 degrees" he turned right around and went back to bed. I was even going to drive him and drop him off at the door but he decided that it's just too cold. He's probably right but that means that now I have to make my own breakfast and it surely won't be an omelet with cheese and ham and mushrooms with sausage on the side, a slice of marble rye toast, and a little bowl of fresh fruit. (can you tell I was planning what I'd choose from the buffet?) Oh well. Mr. Fat Squirrel's already been by for his breakfast of corn, suet, and fallen birdseed with a sip of heated water to wash it all down.
What it also means is that I have the entire day to go downstairs and "toss the stash." I'll be opening each and every bin and bag of yarn, sorting out the WIPs (keeping some and frogging others), finding all my needles and notions and organizing those, pulling out skeins that need to be knitted up soon (you know the flirtatious ones you can't ignore) to be bagged with a pattern and sent to live in the basket under the coffee table to be within easy reach. "Tossing the stash" is my annual check to make sure no critters have moved into the yarn and to reacquaint myself with the wonderfulness I already own, to convince myself once again that I don't NEED more yarn, I just need to knit what I've already got. Also to reinforce my yarn diet. Knit what you have, Barbara, you loved it when you bought it, KNIT IT UP.
Mixed in with a bit of the yarn, at the very edge, is some fabric. I'm going to try really hard not to get distracted by it or by searching for a purse pattern (no, Barbara, no! keep your eyes on the yarn) because I found some really cool ginkgo upholstery fabric in the cupboard that will make an awesome purse. (ignore it, ignore it)
This week at work I knitted on a new hat for LC and made it to the decreases last night at knitting, and I cast off the spark pattern swatch for the Bay Lakes Knitting Guild design contest last night too. This morning I pulled out the waste yarn and, look!, a place to put a thumb. I need to make some notes about how to do it better but this is good. I'm glad I started right away so I won't be staying up nights and giving myself headaches over this. It's due at the April meeting and today's February 1 (really? already???) so I've still got 2 months to swatch, knit, and write the pattern. I think talking it out at knitting last Friday solidified my idea so next (after knitting a few thumb rounds just for practice) I'll swatch the cable I think is the winner, then it's just a matter of knitting it up and writing it all down and I'll be done. Hey, maybe today I'll find the perfect yarn in the stash. I'm thinking tweed but we'll see what turns up.
February 1 (are you sure?)--Central Anatolia, Vessel Terminating in the Forepart of a Stag. There was a deer head stuck in Hank's neck. Tom and Steve stood frozen in the doorway, Tom's hand on the light switch. "What's that thing?" Steve said pointing a shaking finger at Hank lying flat on his back with the silver artifact buried antlers deep in his neck. There was a pool of dark red blood under him that gleamed in glare of the ceiling light.
I didn't feel ready for bed until after midnight last night so I'm happy that the words hung together as well as they did but it was kind of nice to be up into the wee hours once again. I won't do it often but it was peaceful and quiet. I'd forgotten. Off to play with bags o'yarn. Toodles.
--Barbara
