Thursday, March 26, 2015

But Most of It Melted


Seeing all that slushy snow yesterday morning was a real downer but by the time I got to work (on the wet, but not slippery roads) the sun was blazing and melting had commenced.  The clouds rolled in late in the afternoon and the temps dropped below 32 degrees so we've got a little snow left.  I ended up only having the "brushed off the car" piles of snow to shovel off  the driveway when I got home.  Not too bad.  Today it's gray and supposed to maybe get to 30 degrees but the sun is getting warmer so things have to be looking up.  Right?  Right.  When I step out the front door and look down, this is what I see--GREEN!  Bulbs are symbols of hope in my mind.  All winter long it's been brown and dead out there and as soon as the sun warms up a little bit those hopeful little green shoots start popping.  I'm hoping to always live in a south-facing house with a little brick or stone on it so my bulbs show themselves early.  I need that green.

I was so excited to have only one customer and only a tiny box of stock to price and put away yesterday because that let me finish the inventory in the front of the store.  Today I tackle the back room and I may be able to do it all if it stays quiet in there.  It would make my weekend to not have inventory hanging over my head for Monday.  Fingers crossed.

After supper last night I crocheted a few rounds on the Yellow & Black Beanie, getting to the place where I drop the yellow and continue the last few rounds with black.  It's a good thing I made a smaller hat because there isn't enough yellow left for another round.  Whew.  I'll get that hat done tout suite and then tackle the second purse dickey.  Maybe I can bear down on that and finish it over the weekend.  Then I'll need something else to knit.  Oh, I have to work on writing my Design-a-Thon pattern so someone else could knit it.  That'll have me growling and frowning and erasing for a few hours, of that I'm certain.

March 26--Chris A. Crumley, Egret.  The white bird with the long legs and crooked neck peered into the shallow water, cocking its head this way and that.  It hunted this stretch of the shore every morning but this was the first time it had seen this.  Little silver fish, its usual breakfast, darted around and through the long dark hair that flowed with the mild current.  One of the tiny creatures hovered in the cup of an upturned hand as if it found safety there.  Leopold staggered down the path calling her name, "Rowan!" scaring the egret into slow startled flight.

Alrighty then.  Time to get ready to tackle the inventory one more time and maybe for the last time.  That'd be good.  But first, Cheerios.
--Barbara

1 comment:

Aunt B said...

I love those brave little green shoots too! Makes enduring winter worth it all. That's one thing I always missed when we lived in Florida. It was ALWAYS summer.