Cold Sunshine

I wouldn't mind being off today so I could finish at Mom's and rake the leaves for the last time. Not that I've gotten to rake much this year but I would like to. We had to hire the neighbor guy again. I just don't have the time. It would be a good day for a walk too but that won't happen either. Skully came to keep me company when I was packing yesterday. That was good, I miss her. We've both sworn that we'll restart our walks next Tuesday. Cross our hearts. Once Mom got into the hospital and then passed away my days off have been too full and she battled a 3-week migraine so we're both stiff and creaky and need to get out "to get the stink blowed off" as my Grandma Frieda used to say when she shooed us kids out to play. Handyman Dave came and helped me get Durwood's van out of the garage, then he figured out what parts he needs Durwood to buy so he can fix the door tomorrow. I guess we can't complain; that cable's over 33 years old and it's first broken now. Good job, cable, but bad timing. I stopped at TW's work last night to update him on the latest estate developments and he was fixing a giant (and I do mean GIANT) quarry machine that rolled over. It had an impressive dent in the motor housing and a lot of other damage. I can't imagine knowing how to fix something like that but TW's good at it. He gets nice and dirty at work too. I'm glad I have a job that combines office-y things with manual labor things. I'd hate to work in some office and have to be all dressed up all the time. That's so not me. Ooh, I found a recipe for Garlicky Roasted Shrimp, Red Peppers, and Feta that Durwood made for supper last night since Key West Shrimp's on special this week at Festival. He cooked a bit of fettucini that we put it over. It was freaking fantastic. He'd like a bit less feta and he only used one clove of garlic but, oh my, it was delicious. I also found a recipe for fish drop soup in a folder at Mom's. It sounds interesting to me, Durwood thought it sounded awful. I'll make it sometime just to try it. Someone will eat it with me. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a soup with fish balls in it?

November 29--John H. Belter, Slipper Chair. Tanis loved the blue chair, had since she was small. The intricate carving of vines, oak leaves, acorns, and grapes that made up the chair back had entertained her for house as a child. She'd slep into her mother's dressing room and trace them with her fingers. A few times she had pushed the chair ove4r so she could feally get the shapes on paper but she always got caught. "Tanis, how many times have I told you not to play in here." Her mother's voice foze her hands and sent a chill up her spine. "Sorry, Mom," she said. "Sorry who?" Mara's left eyebrow arched as she glared down at her daughrter. Tanis' jaw felt stuck but she managed to say, "Sorry, Maman." Mara was in love with all things French. It made life a trail for Tanis. At least Cook and Giselle the maid spoke French. It was a whole new challenge for Tanis; one with few clues to success. Tanis tugged at the ropes that bound her to the blue chair. She had never imagined that the old rosewood would be so strong and she couldn't imagine why her mind kept skipping back to her childhood. The immediate problem of being tied up in her own dressing room while men in hoods rifled through her safe was what should have been in her thoughts. Her hands were numb and her cheekbone throbbed where the leader of the trio of men had backhanded her to get the combination. No one was expecting her for days. No staff lived in anymore and in summer the foliage around the house was too thick for any of the neighbors to see lights and movement. She heard boats speeding by as the sun set, boats headed for their moorings at the marina at the end of the bay, but none of them slowed to investigate the strange boat tied to her dock.

Uh-oh, this isn't good. Happy Wednesday. It's the middle of the workweek, you know. Ahhh.
--Barbara