Be Nice

That's my plan.  When I was talking to AJ yesterday I commented that I try to be polite, say "please" and "thank you" and "excuse me" to people.  Quite often it confuses them (I smile and make eye contact too) or makes them stop to remember their manners and respond in kind.  That's the effect I'm looking for.  Maybe if people remember to smile and say please they'll be nicer to each other.  Try it, see what happens, it's kind of amusing.  I'm calling it Guerrilla Civility and I'm hoping it catches on.

Durwood called me the other day to say that the hawk was preening and posing on the fence.  He took a few shots, most of them blurry, but this one's nice and clear.  Evidently the hawk chased a bird into the patio door hoping to stun it for an easy meal.  Didn't work, although I did notice a little gray feather stuck to the glass this morning.  We love seeing the hawk swoop down and scatter the birds.  It doesn't catch one very often.

Saturday morning I went over to DS & DIL2's so he could show me how to install the car seat base in the back seat of my car and teach me how to install and remove the car seat from the base so me and LC can bomb around doing fun stuff when the weather's nicer and she's bigger.  I am so glad to see that they use the colorful Cloud 9 blanket I knitted for them.  DS says it gets fuzzies all over everything (I knew that) but it's so soft and so warm, they love it.  Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy too.  In the last week LC has been gnawing on her fist and today while I was holding her she found her thumb and really started to go to town sucking it.  Of course, soon enough she flailed her arm, popped the thumb out, and had to start all over again finding it.  I want to warn them away from letting her suck her thumb because it's so much easier to take away a pacifier but it's way easier than having to search for a pacifier in the middle of the night with a screaming toddler in a crib.  You pick your battles, and who could deny that face a soothing thumb?  I ask you.

We went to the Club Chalet for our Valentine's supper last night.  Durwood was a willing participant so I didn't have to drag him up the ledge by his beard after all.  (Too bad, I was kind of looking forward to being a bully for once in my life.)  I was bereft to learn that they'd only had the heart-shaped ribeye for two on Wed., Thurs., and Fri. nights.  Dagnabbit.  So Durwood had prime rib and I had a ribeye--for one.  We, of course, had the traditional supper club appetizers of relish tray, trio of spreads (white cheese & chive, cheddar cheese, and liver pate), with a well-filled cracker basket alongside (hidden behind the #11 table sign).  Next came salads (iceberg lettuce on a plate with a shred or two of carrot and red cabbage with 2 slices of cucumber) and a cup of soup.  Durwood had French onion, I declined. (I just can't eat all that and want to save room for my main course)  With my ribeye I had baby reds (so luscious and creamy in their red jackets with a sprinkle of herbs), Durwood had baked.  We declined dessert, and I thought about having an Old Fashioned just to round out the full supper club experience but I'm way out of practice drinking, plus I drove, so maybe next time.  Not a bad evening for forty bucks.

February 15--France, Two Scenes from "Der Busant" (The Buzzard).  Kate sat shivering on top of one of the trunks she had dragged out of the storage unit while a team of policemen and women combed through her things.  Aunt Emilia's things they really were but Kate was the only one left to have them.  The detective, a woman named Merrill, asked Kate questions she couldn't answer.  She didn't know when the tapestry or any of the rest of it had been put there.  "Granny died in October 1991," she told Merrill, "that's when Mama and Aunt Emilia cleaned out and sold the house."  Kate watched a young officer tag all the bags she had sorted through and load them into his van.  "About then's when Papa went out west."  She turned to look at the sky.  "He never came back or called or wrote.  Not once."

Hmm, are you thinking what I'm thinking?  That dessicated hand just might be the missing Papa.  It's probably a good thing that Mama and Aunt Emilia are both pushing up daisies.  (There you go, CB, the end of the story or at least an arrow pointing that way.)

When LC was at work the other day I thought maybe it was time to introduce her to snorkeling but she didn't seem very interested.  Too soon?








Time to go out to clear the 4" of snow that fell last night after we came home from supper before tomorrow's 4-6" arrives.  I have to say I am more than over winter.

Yours in endless snow shoveling,
--Barbara