But We Have Forsythia

One.  One bloom on a gigantic bush but I'm counting it so -- the forsythia's blooming!  Yay!  I'm actually more impressed that I managed to have that tiny blossom in focus, and on the first try too.  The sedum's popping up, lending its soothing gray green to the drab brown landscape.  Green is such a hopeful color.

Today's sky looks like it's in a mood, and not a good one either.  I think it's supposed to get up into the 70s today but it's also supposed to storm later and naturally tonight's the Bay Lakes Knitting Guild annual cookout.  Good thing AJ's out of town so he got to grill the burgers early because the last 3 years, the only 3 years of the guild, he's gotten to grill in the pouring rain.  I don't know how Mother Nature figures out that she has to rain every year on the second Thursday in May but she does and she's good at it.  I dug out my bag o'chair and got my "dish to pass" all ready, well, mostly ready (it needs slicing, I'll get to that in a few minutes, as soon as I press "Publish" up there in the corner) so I'm good.  I've even got a simple project in a separate bag so I'll have something to keep my hands busy while my lips are flapping tonight.

I had an interesting customer yesterday afternoon.  He was a 70 year old guy who had been a military diver, not a SEAL for once, a regular, inspect things, rescue and recovery guy so his idea of dive gear was stuck in the late part of the last century with heavy rubber fins, everything black, and rudimentary BCDs.  And dive computers were the stuff of sci-fi movies.  We had a lively conversation roaming all over the store looking at "retro" things that are still made and talking about the improvements in gear and the dumbing down of how diving's taught.  No more gear dumped on the bottom of the deep end and then making the students dive down and gear up on one surface breath.  No hazing of students, knocking off their masks or sneakily turning off their air.  It's a new world down there.  No more CO2 cartridges for emergency rapid ascents (a great way to burst a lung or end up bent in a recompression chamber or dead).  He wasn't stuck in his comfort zone, though, he was eager to learn about all the new stuff since his grandson's starting to learn to dive and Grandpa's eager to go diving with him and maybe set him on a career path.  I really enjoyed it, he did too.


I got the triobite's head knitted at work, stuffed it last night, Kitchenered it shut, and added crocheted antennae.  Today I'll see about making wings.  It needs wings, fluffy ones, I think.  I'll see how that goes.

May 8--Egypt, Macedonian and Ptolemaic Period, Cippus of Horus.  It must have taken weeks to carve, Jean thought.  All those little glyphs in their straight rows from the top to the bottom of the slab must tell a story.  She stood looking at it and her fingers itched to reach out and trace the tiny birds and shapes.  The longer she stood the more she felt like she understood it.  There, there in the second row was a running man, he appeared pretty regularly.  Was he the same person as the man with the walking stick in the top row?  And how many ways could they carve a bird?  There were at least a dozen different ones.

Okay, kiddos, time to get this day started, even though it's dreary enough to slide back between the covers and just doze the day away.  No!  Here I go, off to the shower, off to greet the day, off to see who the next fun customer will be, off to party like a whack of knitters.  Have pimento cheese and olive and nut spread will travel!
--Barbara