A Weather 180 (imagine a degree symbol there)

Yesterday (when I had to work) it was sunny and warm, so sunny and warm that I ate my breakfast and read the paper on the patio.  Today (when I'm off) it's raining.  Raining enough that Porter didn't want to walk far today.  We tried (because I need to not skip walking so that I can walk all I want without lagging next week and also whenever) but it was just too drizzly and my shoes and jeans were getting damp.  Uck.  There's nothing more comfy than damp jeans.  Not.  Today only reinforces my intention to pack clothes for all seasons for my week up in the woods.  It's supposed to be warm-ish and sunny-ish but I will take clothes for hot and cold in a separate small suitcase (does anyone use the term "grip" for a suitcase anymore?  it just popped into my head) that will stay in the car for emergencies.  Which reminds me I want to take the bag o'chair out of the car... and my yoga mat... and the dog paraphernalia including the sheet that protects the upholstery from a wet or dirty dog.  (hmm, wet dog, maybe that's why my car smells a bit barn-y these days)

After I dropped Porter off at her house and let out her sleepover pal, Timber, for a potty (I can not walk 2 dogs at once, I'm lucky if I can walk one without stumbling over her or tangling myself in the leash) I went over to the Chevy dealer to see about an after-market fix for my frustrating car remotes.  See the "unlock" button would only work the fourteenth time I pushed it and sometimes not then.  The fix is a wafer of plastic with contact dots on it that goes behind the buttons and on top of the contact board.  Works like a charm.  It works so well that I splurged and bought one for the remote I don't use (because its buttons barely worked) so it'll be good if I ever sell Beverly for another car.  I don't think I will because I love her and I have less than 60k miles on her and she's bright red and I can haul stuff like my dive gear and snowshoes and the seats fold down (all but the driver's one) so I can junk pick used Christmas trees for birdie trees.  Plus she's red.

Durwood took some more oriole photos this morning and I got one of a ruby-throated hummingbird at the feeder.  We love watching the birds that come to eat at our feeders.

I went to community yoga out at the UWGB Ecumenical Center after work yesterday (naturally it was the last one there of the semester or season or whatever).  It was great but it really kicked my butt.  I was really dragging by the time I got home.  I love to do yoga, I'm not great at it, I puff and sweat my way through, but I sure like the way it makes me feel, all flexible and loose.  I should do it more.

May 17--Vincent van Gogh, Self-Portrait with Straw Hat.  The sun glared off the underside of the brim of his hat and made him squint.  He had a hard enough time concentrating without having that laser light in his eyes.  He held his brush in his fist and jabbed at the canvas as if he were defending himself against an attack.  "Vin, hey, Vincent," a voice called from the deep shade of the trees, "Vin, come out of the sun.  It's too hot.  You're going to fry your brains."  He shook his head.  He had to stand there in the blazing sun with the hot wind across the cut field blowing chaff that stuck in his paints.  He had to.  Had to.  It was his life.

Did you notice that I didn't know what day it was yesterday?  True.  I thought it was Wednesday.  Lala had to email me and tell me that it was Thursday and I had only 2 days to live through before I went to The Clearing.  *head, slap*  I couldn't believe it.  I always know what day it is.  I'm shaking my head.  Well, it's time for me to go downstairs for a couple suitcases and a plastic crate and my water heating pot and start packing.  Ah, packing, I love packing almost as much as I love going away.  That's a lot.
--Barbara