Thirty-Seven Years

of wedded bliss.  Oh, not every day, I'm not a Pollyanna but overall it's been a pretty good ride so far.  Durwood was a good choice in 1976 and he's a good choice now.  We've done a lot of fun things together--raised two amazing kids, learned to SCUBA dive and gone all over the globe to dive, driven all over kingdom come, and he's still the guy I want to spend my vacations with... most of the time.  Hey, it'd be wrong to be locked together like a couple of Popsicles.  A couple needs time apart to appreciate the times together.  You can quote me on that.  It's also St. Barbara's Day.  Coincidence?  Perhaps not.

I rang the Salvation Army bell yesterday.  I made some money and had a good time too, dancing and singing to the Musak and talking to the cart boy, that is until the next couple came 10 minutes early and kicked me off... but she had a better hat so I had to give in.  It lit up, played music, and stood up then folded over.  The battery's dead in mine.  *sigh*

And it snowed.  Twice.  It waited to snow the second time until I'd shoveled the first one off the driveway AND the snowblower that we spent $155 to fix in September doesn't work.  You'd better bet Durwood will be making an irate phone call later.  Good thing we've got that scoop thing, otherwise I'd still be out there getting that wet, heavy stuff off the driveway.  The chickens didn't seem to mind it when I took the bag of peels to them yesterday.  (that's General Tso, low girl on the pecking order)

I finished a Tunisian short row dishcloth yesterday and tried to work on my Knitting Guild dishcloth for the exchange next Thursday but I think I might have added on one round.  I know I backtracked Row 10 at least twice and, let me tell you, yarn overs are a bear to recover.  I'll take another run at it today at work.

December 4--Vincent van Gogh, La Berceuse (Woman Rocking a Cradle; Augustine-Alix Pellicot)  Jane was sure that her fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Martin's breasts were only held in place by her belt.  Mrs. Martin wore a belted dress every day, the belt made out of the same fabric as the dress, and her breasts rested right on top of it, like if the belt broke they'd get away from their precarious perch on her chest.  At age ten and a half Jane's own breasts were making their first tentative appearance so she was preoccupied with them.  All of the rest of the teachers at Sacred Heart School were nuns and everyone knew that nuns didn't have breasts.  It was kind of like Mrs. Martin carried the breasts for the entire faculty.

Okay, kiddies, it's just about time to go out and knit on the east side for most of the day.  I've got new audiobooks on my iPod so once I finish The Book Thief I'll be set to move on.  Won't have to amuse myself by myself for even a minute.  Whew.  BTW, this is a good book, not what I imagined it'd be but engrossing nevertheless.  Bundle up, I plan to.  I carried up an armload of thick woolen socks so I'll be wearing my boots with heavy socks and maybe even toe warmers if need be.  I'm prepared.
--Barbara