The First Poppy

I looked out at the garden before I zoomed off to work yesterday and there was a poppy bloomed.  *angels sing*  It looks so bright and cheery out there sticking its orange-ness up above all the green.  Yay!  When I went out to take its picture I saw that one of the blueberry bushes is deep into production mode.  The other two not so much, but that middle one's berry-ing like crazy.  I still haven't managed to get the special fertilizer out, mixed up, and poured on them; I need to do that this weekend without fail.

I took the Packers (with a Hint of Vikings) Bib to work with me, dug out a G crochet hook from my knitting basket, and crocheted an edging around the bib.  It needed it, it was too narrow, now it's better, plus it lays flat which it didn't do before.  Then there was this small bit of cotton yarn rolling around in the bag so I cast on another bib, actually I'm calling it 'Nother Bib.  I sure hope I have enough yarn to make it long enough since I can't find out what kind of yarn it is so there's no more.  If it's too short I guess I'll just tack on some other random yarn.  But I really really need to go dig out the other ball of that green, yellow, and purple yarn so I can knit up another bib for LC's cousin who lives in the homeland of the dreaded Vikings.  The football kind, not the pillaging kind.

We knit in the park last night for a while but the wind was brisk and chilly so we adjourned to the basement meeting room we use every month to finish up the evening.  Whew.  Everyone was getting too cold to stay but I think one guy rambling through the park saw us and a few people drove by, one even honked, so I guess that counted for Knitting In Public.

On my way home I kept seeing this bright light in my sideview mirror--it was the full moon.  The Strawberry Moon.  I stopped in a parking lot to snap a couple photos but it wasn't high enough in the sky for me to get ones without parking lot lights in the way.  As it was there was a scrap of cloud over it, like a veil so it's even more blurry than usual but I think I've captured the feeling standing there.  See how the branches are blowing?

June 13--Guatemala, Mayan Culture, Vessel, Throne Scene.  The headdress is heavy.  It's made with wood carved in fantastical shapes. In front is a jaguar snarling with real teeth.  Behind it is a monkey pelt with the head still attached, the staring eyes seeming to plead for rescue.  Around the sides are feathers from all the jungle birds, a riot of color and motion.  The priest is lost in his ritual, his body glistening with sweat and his muscles twitching with the effects of the herbs he has brewed into a kind of tea.  Hours have passed since he began singing and following the steps of the ritual.  What began as a slow shuffle is now a frantic, pounding dance, the words of his song shouted to the gods in a voice like the cry of a raven.

Holy bejeebers, it's Friday the 13th!  Stay away from black cats and don't walk under any ladders.
--Barbara