Sunday, August 7, 2011

Day Off

I'm happy to be not-working today, not working for pay anyway. DS & DIL1 are coming for supper so I'll be cleaning and tidying as well as helping Durwood prepare supper. We're making our first recipe out of the Points Plus cookbook--grilled Rum-glazed Pork, Onion & Clementine Kabobs served over couscous with Zucchini Ribbons on the side. DS is making fresh blueberry granita for dessert. I've never had it but it sounds good, doesn't it? I'll report. When I added water to the fountain before turning it on this morning I noticed some little nymphs poinking around in the water. I suspect they're mosquito nymphs so on my trip to Walmart this morning I'm going to see if they have a little goldfish I can buy to eat them. That'll mean I won't be able to put bleach into the water to kill the algae but I'd rather have algae than skeeters so it's a no-brainer. I want you to see the skirt I made the other night. I love the colors and, as you can see in the photo, I have tees that go with it perfectly. Usually I'm all about the red shirts but I think I'm most eager to wear the green one with the skirt. Only one more skirt cut out ready to sew. Skully had it right about sewing, "With sewing you get instant gratification, not like knitting when it might take weeks to finish something."

August 6--Johan Adolph Grecke, Pair of Flintlock Pistols of Empress Catherine the Great. She stroked the long barrel of the pistol before she raised it to aim and shoot. Even in these modern times there were still wolves that lurked close to the city. She had seen their red-gold eyes in the light of the carriage lamps driving home from parties late at night. Of course she had guards but only a fool relied on loyalty one paid for. Besides she had been unable to resist the brace of pistols when Grecke had brought them to her. She liked the glint of the steel barrels but it was the ivory grips and gold-chased mounts that made her fall in love with them. The ivory warmed in her hand until she felt like she held her lover's hand in hers. The acrid smell of gunpowder floated on the cold, clear air as Catherine reloaded to shoot again.

Time to clear off the table, clean the bathroom, hide all my yarn etc., and run the vacuum. I'm not going overboard, just want to move the big chunks so there's room for our company tonight. Too clean would be an insult but too mess would be embarrassing.
--Barbara

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