At least it feels like it. I'm meeting my pals Cookie and Skully in about an hour to drive to Madison for a Quilt Expo. They're quilters, I'm not, but I do sew and they promised that we'd go to a yarn shop too so I'm in. Mostly I just want a day away. Last night I didn't manage to stay outside for the flyover after all. The kickoff was after 7:30 and A) the mosquitoes were eating me alive, even up my skirt, and 2) I didn't think they'd fly over in the dark. I was wrong. I guess four big fighters, afterburners blazing, came over. And I missed it. $%#^&! Ah well, better to not be scratching in my personal places at the quilt show. Durwood says it was an exciting game, though, all I know is that the Packers won. Yay!
September 8--Egyptian, Cosmetic Vessel in the Shape of a Cat. It was a lovely gift. Lila kept her eyes on the marble statue of the cat in her hands when she thanked Rance. She knew if her eyes met his everyone in the room would know how they felt about each other. "Why, Rance," her mother-in-law said, "you must have searched every second-hand store in the whole county to find a broken-eared cat statue like that. Did the Goodwill over by the tracks have a sale?" Drew put his hand on Lila's shoulder and squeezed. "Oh, hush, Mama," he said, "Rance knows Lila takes in strays." His words were slurred and it was barely noon. "She keeps me, doesn't she?" Lila reached up and took his hand, drawing him to sit beside her on the loveseat. She put the little cat statue down on the floor near her feet. "I'm a sucker for a sad face, it's true, Drew honey, but I'm keeping you and that's that." She and Rance had agreed that whatever it was they were getting up to in those stolen moments out behind the gazebo wouldn't lead to anything permanent. Nothing would change. No matter what.
Now there's a recipe for disaster, don't you think? Gotta run and gulp down some Cheerios so I"m not tempted to get a biscuit on my way to meet the girls. Later, dudes.
--Barbara
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