Bright Sunday

Red leaves.  That's what I see when I look out the window next to this desk.  I think the foliage scrooges revel in making each year seem worse than previous ones.  Yes, it makes sense that the drought conditions we're having would affect the colors and, I agree, it seems like the changes are happening earlier and faster, but it's still gorgeous out there and the lack of rain is letting them stay on the trees a bit longer.  I'm taking it.  It's too pretty and sunny and colorful and bright out there to even think about the doom and gloom-ers and their whines.  Take that, glass-half-empty-ites.  I plan to get the snowblower out of the shed within the next week or so and call the fixit guys to come get it (the lawnmower too) so it'll be all cocked and primed for when the first flakes fall.  Not for one of those "dusting" type snowfalls, but ones you have to shovel.  Hey, I'm not proud, I'll crank that sucker up for even a mediocre snowfall, just because I can.  Today's Photo a Day theme is "light."  When I opened the shade around 7 o'clock the sunlight was just touching the tops of the trees down the street making them glow yellow against the gray clouds.  How could I not race for my camera?  (Good thing Durwood tends to go back to bed in the other room when he gets up too early, eh?)  A-a-a-and the clouds just bunched together and closed up the sunny gaps.  Drat.  Although now I won't feel bad about intending to spend most of today down in my sewing studio cranking out the last 3 quilt blocks for the Block of the Month sew-along I'm doing.  Next month we get to put them all together and get ready to quilt them by machine and bind them so we'll have a real quilt supposedly by year's end.  I have no illusions that I'll be done by New Year's Eve since I've lagged some all through the year, but I'm a whole heck of a lot further along that I'd normally be, so good for me.  (Don't let me forget to haul the vacuum down there to suck up all the thread schnipples on the [anciently stylish & pretty darned hideous] burnt orange carpet on the floor.  I'm kind of itching to crank out another linen & flannel lap comforter and hesitate to cut and pin it on that dirty rug.  Hey, it's the basement, I expect that the floor will get sawdust and dust and threads and just plain dirt on it; it's a working floor not some parlor with nothing to do except look pretty for when company comes.)  (Huh, some neighbor's out there mowing... isn't mowing season over?  Guess not if you're retired and lawn-proud.)  Dang it, I meant to pick up some cheap speakers yesterday at Walmart to plug my iPod and Kindle (I'm listening to audiobooks on both of them, one library & one Audible) into when I'm downstairs sewing.  DS said it'll save the Kindle battery plus I won't snag the iPod earbud wire and jerk it out of my ear when I stand up or almost cut it when I'm snipping threads.  Maybe later, for now I'll deal.  (I could even deal until, oh say, late December, if some Santa wanted to get them for me.  Hmm, that might be a hint.)

October 7--Flemish, Emperor Vespasian Cured by Veronica's Veil.  You wouldn't believe how dirty he was by then.  I mean, it was understandable, of course.  He'd been beaten up, had that circle of briars shoved onto his head, and they were making him drag that lumber through the streets while everyone made fun of him.  I can't say I agree with all of that; it's overkill, if you ask me.  If you're planning on executing someone I say just do it and get it over with--zip, bang, boom.  Don't drag it out all day and all over town.  We need to put some efficiency back into government.  I was minding my own business coming home from the market when they blocked off the street so he could pass by, so the whole spectacle could pass, and it wasn't short or quiet.  My veil was fluttering in the breeze.  Of course, it's white.  He saw it fluttering, grabbed it, and wiped his face on it.  You could have knocked me over with a feather.  He didn't ask if he could.  He just grabbed it and now it's stained with dirt and sweat and blood, an imprint of his face, and it won't wash out.  I think I'll send a bill for cleaning to that Pilate character.  All of that was his idea, after all.  Romans, bah.

Now that was fun to write.  Enjoy your Sunday.  I'm off to vacuum then sew.  I'll vacuum fast so I can get down to the sewing part quickly.  Vroom!
--Barbara Sue