Cottonwood Snow

This is Durwood's least-favorite time of Spring, the cottonwood season.  Cottonwood seeds are embedded in little balls of puff that blow with the slightest breeze and gather in the gutters and along the edges of driveways.  They also make a mat over window screens and the grid of the air conditioner.  I'll be the one outside with the hose spraying the stuff off the a/c later because, of course, it's hot and humid so the house is shut and the a/c's on.

I was busy at work yesterday.  People came in to have tanks filled, to drop tanks off for service, and to buy stuff.  I hardly had time for knitting and audiobook listening.  I did manage to squeak in the last few rows of 'Nother Bib so that's done.  I kind of like that I ran out of the variegated yarn and that the other one striped.  I like the way it looks.  It's a bib and will therefore be wiping mouths, noses, and probably tables and floors in order to fulfill its destiny.

June 17--Final Neolithic Period, Cycladic Culture, Statue of a Woman.  The little marble figure was cupped in his hand.  Dr. Baker's body lay flat on its back in the aisle in the Collections Department of the museum.  Miriam Wellman, his intern for the summer, had come down from the lab on the third floor to gather the list of artifacts on the day's clipboard.  Dr. Baker was in the process of rethinking a study he had published a decade earlier on migration patterns in sub-Saharan Africa in the Late Neolithic Period.  Miri was tasked with gathering all of the pieces he had cited in his original research to be reexamined in light of more recent findings.  When Miri turned on the overhead lights to get started she nearly stumbled over Dr. Baker's loafer-clad feet.  The little figure in his hand was the one piece that disrupted his tidy theory of the way people moved around a few thousand years ago.  Evidently someone wasn't in favor of his rewriting history

Okay then, time to get this show on the road.  Sayonara.
--Barbara