It Was Spring For A Day

Remember that ancient game show,  Queen For A Day?  Well, yesterday we had Spring for a Day.  Today it's chilly and drizzly so yesterday must have been SPRING.  I made the most of it, going out in the glaring sunshine (without a hat *gasp*) to rake the winter-blown leaves out of the flower beds and off the patio where it touches the house.  There were a lot more leaves than I thought there'd be so I ended up hauling them to the curb.  I almost tipped them onto the garden but knew I wouldn't be working them in immediately which meant they'd probably blow back to where I just raked them out of so it was off to the curb for them.  Then I arranged the pots where I plant herbs (just in case it ever gets warm enough for "tender annuals" around here) and put the umbrella on the patio table, opened it, and sat under it pretending that it was warm enough to be hot in the sun and need shade.  (hey, a girl can dream)  Plus the honeysuckle's making leaves, LOOK!

The lush green of the rhubarb leaves tempted me to cut a bunch and whip up a rhubarb crisp to have for dessert after our supper of tossed salad and a charcoal-grilled NY Strip steak that I cooked on the Weber.  I was not going to miss the chance to grill out on such a beautiful day even if we do have quality leftovers.  We'll eat those soon enough.  I also made a batch of red pepper hummus for work lunches this week.  (I'm really pretending it's warm and nice out, aren't I?  That's my usual summer lunch.)

After supper I buckled down and finally figured out how to start knitting a trilobite for the May Art Challenge, and I used TS's lesson on adding bling to knitting to put on beads.  He's going to be a great bug, or maybe it'll be a she.  Oh well, I sure am enjoying these art challenges, they aren't too taxing but they're making me figure things out and I love figuring things out.  Plus I'm determined to use what I have on hand as much as possible.

May 5--Bartolomeo Montagna, Saint Justina of Padua.  She had to be a redhead.  Vincent had a soft spot for redheads.  His first, third, and fourth wives had been redheads and they had taken great joy in grinding him to a pulp in turns.  He was grateful to have not had children with them.  Dealing with child support and visitation rights would have been like having a root canal, several simultaneous root canals every day for eighteen years.  Today's redhead stood in his outer office waiting for Darlene to get off the phone.  Darlene wasn't a very good typist but she was dynamite on the phone.  She got more information out of people in one three-minute phone call than he did in an hour-long interview.  Vincent smoothed his hair, checked his breath, and straightened up the files on his desk as he heard Darlene greet the redhead.  After asking the woman to take a seat she excused herself, came into his office, and pushed the door shut.  She leaned toward him over his desk, fingers splayed like guy wires on a suspension bridge.  "This one's a real pip.  She says she's Princess Madeline of Kent and her boyfriend is missing." Darlene shook her head as if every day brought a princess to bedevil her.  "I'll send her in."  Vincent thought Madeline was a good name for a redheaded princess.

D'you ever get to the point where you're tired of everything in your house and would like to scrape it all out onto the lawn and start over?  I'm there.  I'd like a dumpster and a Bobcat AND a bottomless charge card to start again, but that'll never happen so I'll just be over here eyeing all of our stuff with loathing.  It'll pass.  Maybe I'll spend Friday clearing out a corner to make myself feel better.  Time to get a move on.
--Barbara