The Weekend's Here!

I don't know why I'm so happy about it, I don't have anything special to do today; tomorrow is the dive shop corn roast in Door County, that's pretty exciting, but today, well, there's the Farmer's Market which means that I'm going to get crab rangoons for breakfast, that's pretty exciting, in a not really exciting way.  It's overcast and still as the grave right now.  I wonder if we're supposed to get rain...nope, no chance of rain... *sigh*  guess I'll be watering the garden today--again; that's not very exciting.  Maybe it's just that we're supposed to be excited for the weekend.  Saturday and Sunday do feel different than the weekdays, at least they do for me, Durwood says he can't tell one day from the next, but then I don't think he pays attention because he doesn't know when he has to go to work anymore like I do.  He wishes he did have to go to work, I know he does; I wish he did too, then he wouldn't be so bored.

Yesterday they were trimming a tree across the street from the dive shop and I noticed that someone had nailed steps to the trunk and way up into the tree.  Looks tempting to climb right up there, doesn't it?

DS & DIL1 are off in Minneapolis for the weekend so I get to go over to their house later this afternoon to gather eggs.  I hope that General Tso and Kiev have started laying so I get to gather pale blue or green eggs.  I can wait to see 'em.  The other afternoon at the nail salon I had to give a lesson in, well, chicken sex or non-sex.  See, hens don't need a rooster to lay eggs (just like women have periods (produce eggs) whether they have sex or not), they need a rooster to lay fertilized eggs that could turn into baby chicks.  (why is this such a surprise to people?)  The coolest thing is that the color of the chicken's earlobes determines the color of the eggshell they lay.  No, really.  Here, read this.  Told you.  Too bad the new chickens don't have blue or green earlobes; I'll have to take a closer look today to see what color theirs are, probably buff like their feathers.  I also have to figure out which one is which, neither DS nor DIL1 have ever specified, maybe they're interchangeable.

Maybe I'll go downstairs and sew a bit today.  I keep meaning to and don't get around to it.  It's not as if I have something I have to sew... oh, wait, I just had an idea... we need a wedding gift for the end of the month and I just thought of something I could make.  Ooh, cool.  I'm not telling what it is because I want to make the same thing for the family for Christmas but this is an excellent idea for a wedding gift, something not too big and not too pricey, a combo of making and buying.  I'm a GENIUS.

August 10--Jean Beraud, Parisian Street Scene.  He had to meet her.  There had to be a way, if only he could think of one.  She had red hair that sprang out of her tight chignon when it was rainy and gray eyes that sparkled on sunny days.  She got off the number seven bus that stopped across the street from his office.  He had not been late one time since the day he had looked up to see her step down from the bus that day nearly a month ago.

Well, there was a lot more to that story but I was sooo tired because I'd slept sooo poorly the night before that I conked right out.  Talk among yourselves.  You can figure out the end of this storylette, I have confidence in you.  I was fixing the photos on my Kindle Fire yesterday, sorting out doubles, and realized that last year at this time we were taking off to the wild West.  Has it been a year already?  Must be true.  Enjoy your weekend.  Or pretend to at the very least.  Nap if you have to.
--Barbara