Goof off for a day, I mean. Things got away from me yesterday and I totally lost control. First I swabbed out the bathroom and mopped the bathroom and kitchen floors (after reading the paper and watching CBS Sunday Morning, of course). Next I ran the vacuum around the dinette and living room. Then I carried the potted, floor plants out to the patio so LC won't have dirt to play in (and eat) when she's rolling around on the floor. After that we hauled in the treadmill (thanks, DS & DIL1!), then I did that load of wash, only it turned into three, one of them being all the batiks I have so that I could stand and trim off all the raveling ends and iron them and fold them so I could choose a bunch for my supermoon tote idea. By then it was past time to fire up the charcoal to grill the brats and drumsticks. See? I can't. And I never did get around to rewriting Chapter 3, so I'll take that to work and see if I can't carve out an hour to work on it there. *sigh*
But DS called to say that Sunnyhill Farm had corn yesterday, the first of the season, but they were gone by the time I got there so I'll be sending Durwood off to nab a couple ears for our supper tonight. Holy corn!
I'm excited about my supermoon idea. Lala and I saw one when we were in Sheboygan one year; the wind blew and the waves were crashing and splashing, it was just fabulous to sit on a rock on shore and watch that giant yellow-orange disc rise out of Lake Michigan and make a silver path across the water. I'm hoping to capture the essence of that mental image in fabric.
I harvested a few more tomatoes yesterday-- 2 Early Girls & 2 WI 55s & a couple Sugary cherry tomatoes for quick snacking. I might have to take a couple of those for work nibbling.
The white Stargazers are going gangbusters. You get to see them again because now almost all of the buds have opened and it's a festival of white flowers and nearly overpowering scent. Incredible!
I don't think this mourning dove understands how this feeder works. It sits up there nearly every afternoon. You silly bird, the food is on the floor not the roof.
July 28--Yves Saint Laurent, Evening Dress. Jules thought she looked like a summer night at the seashore. Loretta floated down the stairs in her dark blue and green silk dress. The dress fabric molded itself to her like water and the sheer cape billowed like breaking waves. She smiled down at him, her eyes locked on his. He watched her hand slide lightly on the polished dark walnut banister and shivered imagining her hand sliding down his skin. As she neared him the voices of the guests faded away and he no longer heard the band. She stopped on the last step so that their eyes were on a level. "You look lovely, my dear," he said. She smiled and her cheeks flushed a faint pink. "I think you look lovely too," she said. "Make them all go away, Jules, my feet hurt already." He chuckled. "We can't make them go away, what would we do with all the food?" She smiled, shrugged, and took the last step with her hand on his, ready to be the perfect hostess at a party she no longer wanted to throw.
Well, I did 10 minutes on the treadmill and now it's time for breakfast and showering and all that other morning-type stuff. And it's Monday again, isn't it? What did I say? It seems to me that Mondays come around twice as fast as the rest of the days. Good thing I took a few minutes to assemble this week's lunches last night after supper (yet another time I didn't goof off yesterday). Hasta la vista, babies.
--Barbara
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