Ow Ow Ow

Yesterday before supper, once the sun had dipped behind Melissa-next-door's maple tree, I went out and picked Durwood's first bowl of raspberries of the season.  While talking to our renter, Donna, about her new job and how big her girls have gotten since they moved in 5 months ago, I picked and weeded.  Unfortunately I weeded out a giant nettle.  Ow.  Ow.  Ow.  My hands and forearms aren't any redder than usual but they still prickle.  (Rule #1: Don't pick nettles anymore.)  (at first I closed those parentheses without putting a period at the end but the Punctuation Harpy wouldn't let me go on until I went back and fixed it, I think she's related to my inner-Hitler; I don't need one at the end of this aside because I didn't start with a capital letter [hah, take that, Punctuation Harpy])  One natural danger that I did manage to avoid was the hornet's nest in one of the bells of the old rusty wind chime that's hanging in the berry canes.  I don't mind the bumblebees, I don't bother them and they don't bother me, but hornets?  I give hornets their space; they'll sting you just because.  Today's Photo a Day theme is "down" but it was too dewy for me to lay down out in the yard to take pictures so I looked down on things, the fern's my favorite.  I love ferns, even though the baby bunnies, Flash & Bobo, eat the tender fronds in the spring.  I call all our baby bunnies Flash or Bobo; Flash is the one that zooms back and forth, zip zip zip, Bobo stops and looks around and stares at things like it's trying to figure them out, wha...?.  A Bobo seldom reaches maturity; a Flash always does unless it zips right into a hawk or owl's talons, both of those regularly troll our backyard.  Don't you just love nature?  We saw lots of nature out in Yellowstone, the place is crammed with it.  We stopped along the road (really everyone does it, they even have official places for it) to watch one male buffalo escort another away from his passel of girl buffaloes giving a nice basso grunt, "uh, uh, uh," with each step.  It was lovely.  Behind him a mama buffalo grazed and her little redheaded calf played, tumbling over a 2-foot drop-off and scrambling back up.  I/we could stand to be back there looking at the animals RIGHT NOW.  Last night after supper Durwood mentioned turning around and going back when I told him that I'd finished the laundry on Saturday.  His eyebrows raised up (it's a sign of intense interest with him, sometimes when I'm all nekkid they almost disappear into his hairline [you really didn't need to know that, did you? sorry]), so I knew he was seriously interested when he said, "how fast can we pack?"  See?  Even after 2 whole weeks crammed in that van together we'd still strike out again in a heartbeat, but I think Mrs. Boss would object.  I'm sure she's less than pleased that I'm haring off to The Clearing for a week on September 8 {one week after my birthday, my 61st birthday, which is this coming Saturday, September 1, if you're interested or have forgotten})  In retaliation she's leaving for 2 weeks herself at the other end of September to go on a dive trip on a live-aboard in the Maldives, which are in the Indian Ocean off the west coast of Africa.  Sucks to be her, eh?  On my way home from walking, dropping of 5 bins of "sewing for dollars" and cashing my paycheck (oh, happy day!), I swung into AAA and got tour books and maps so we can start planning and dreaming about next year's driving adventure.  We plan to visit the Carolinas (this is your early warning, Aunt B and RJ & Kathy) where Mom's sister and Durwood's brother live.  I've never been there; I think Durwood was there ages ago so we're going.  He was talking about the Blue Ridge Parkway but I suspect those are mere hills compared to the Beartooth Mountains and Gallatin Range that lately scared the crap out of me.  I easily finished the bin of stragglers for Lucie; it only took a couple hours in the afternoon.  Like I said, I'm really enjoying the work.  (Thanks again, Tanya, for giving Lucie my name.)  And now it's time for me to stop babbling, get my prompt writing on here, and go get ready for the work day.  *sigh*

August 29--Eugene Atget, Shop Front of Courone d'Or, Quai Bourbon.  It had always been my favorite shop window.  The careful pyramids of cans of peas and carrots glinted in the sun, and the spools of ribbon hinted at the riches inside the tiny shop.  Maman liked to conclude her shopping in "le d'Or" because she always knew that Monsieur Atget would have all the items left on her list.  He carried more cheeses than the fromagerie, more meats than the charcuterie, and more breads and rolls than the boulangerie.  I knew that he also had a soft spot for little girls with dark curls and brown eyes so I made sure to be at Maman's side when she went in on Tuesdays.

And that's when I dropped of to sleep.  I did manage to take off my glasses and put my notebook and pencil on the nightstand but that's the extent of my memory of last night.  Bon dia.
--Barbara