Gotta Type Fast

I've been doing things this morning, like walking on the treadmill and winding a skein of yarn from hank to ball and defrosting a package of corn to amend my Roasted Tomato Soup (they called it garnish but I put in a lot so it's more of an amendment than a garnish), so I've kind of left blogging to the last minute today.  I am dressed, teeth brush, hair combed, and I assembled lunch (said roast tomato soup and pb&j for the next 2 days) AND I set up an audiobook to transfer from Overdrive to iTunes to my iPod while I roared around like a crazy person.  Last night after work and a visit to the chiro I stopped at the grocery to pick up the few ingredients I didn't have for the soup, then I whipped it up after supper.  Roasting the tomatoes, onions, and garlic made the house smell great and the soup is good but I know it'll be better when there are "real" tomatoes to make it with instead of the "hothouse" winter tomatoes in the grocery (and my price range) right now.  I figure I'm still getting the goodies from the tomatoes and I'm thinking of stirring in a can of V8 to "tomato it up"--and balance all that corn.  (Photo taken last night before the corn joined the party.)

It wasn't too busy at work yesterday but I didn't get enough knitting done on either project to show you and, wouldn't you know, I found something else I want to knit.  But it's small and should go quickly; that's what I wound the yarn up for.  I'll show you when it's done.

This morning's sunrise looked like a calendar to me--blue sky, stark black tree, thin white clouds with a tinge of pink.  Too bad it's colder than a well-digger's ass in the Klondike and blowing to beat the band, but the sun's shining so I'm happy-ish.

March 4--David Stover, Foreman.  Nick knew he was in trouble.  No one answered his calls and everyone stopped talking when he walked into a room.  He had stopped going to Betty Jo's Breakfasts on the way to the job because the last time he'd felt scorched by all the eyes boring into him.

Done!  I need better prompts, these work-y ones aren't doing it for me.  Time to shove warmers in my boots, put in my big coat and head out to keep the world safe from SCUBA diving.  Cheerio!
--Barbara

P.S. Happy 21st Birthday to my "little" nephew, Colton!  How can he be that old?  I remember the day he was born and it wasn't that long ago.  Happy day, nephie-poo.