The Watchword Today is Gray

It has been gray the last few days.  Saturday I drove across a different bridge to get home, across a wider part of the river, and it was like driving in cotton batting.  I couldn't see beyond the sides of the span, could barely see the opposite lanes--now that's foggy.  Yesterday it was just overcast but segued into rainy by sundown.  Today it's not fooling around.  The sky is solid gray, not a hint of sun shining through, there are tiny droplets on the bare tree branches, and they're promising snow by night.  Goodie.

Yesterday afternoon I sort of followed through on my "do nothing" plans.  I photographed and posted my new yarns on Ravelry, then dug out some needles, and cast on a couple charity projects.  I found a Fast Hat pattern that I got rolling on and barely got a mitten started.  I lit the charcoal (in drizzle) and grilled out drumsticks and thighs for supper.  Mmm, there's nothing like grilled chicken, is there?  There're leftovers so all we'll have to do for the next few nights is make some veggies and dig in.  I'm a fan.  Durwood cut out a coupon for a new Minute Rice product, a blend of white, red, wild rice, and quinoa that cooks a bit more quickly than regular rice but is really tasty.  It was an excellent side with our broccoli and chicken.  It's a little pricey so hopefully there'll be more coupons.

DS and DD called so we hashed out who's making what for our Thanksgiving feast next Saturday.  We pared back the sides to make it more manageable but we kept the important things -- onion bread, cornbread sausage stuffing, Mom's pumpkin pie recipe, carrots with bacon and onions, and homemade cranberry sauce.  Oh, and the bird's thawing in Durwood's backseat in a dishpan (don't want it to smell like a crime scene in there if it leaks) since it's almost exactly fridge temperature out there right now.  We'll keep an eye on it and not let it refreeze.  I think we're set.  We're all so glad that the Lexington contingent will be here.  It's been a long time between visits.

November 24--Max Ernst, Gala Eluard.  I had to turn the picture to the wall.  I couldn't bear to have those unblinking brown eyes watching me.  The painting was a gift from my mother-in-law so I couldn't stuff it in the back of a closet but I didn't have to sit in the room with it staring at me.  I usually like surrealism, I'm a big fan of Marc Chagall, but those eyes just bored into my soul.

It was late.  I was tired, and I think my brain's in a creative slump.  These things happen, I'll just ride it out.  I should get a move on, I have to go to work, instead of take a nap which is what I feel like doing.  Ah well, such is life.  Adios.
--Barbara