It's Always Something

I tried to figure out how to fix the stove yesterday.  I went down to look at the breaker box again. I even took pictures of the breakers, then I went to the hardware store to ask if there was something they could think of that I could try.  The guy told me that it'd be hard to move the breaker from OFF to ON so I tried again when I got home.  After a few tries I did move it but nothing changed on the stove.  Rats.  Guess I'll be calling the stove repairman tomorrow before I go to work.

I lit the charcoal and got out the rotisserie basket, then I marinated the chicken parts in homemade teriyaki for an hour, before setting them slowly rotating over the coals for an hour.  I tucked a white and a sweet potato on the grill too; they weren't done when the chicken was but I finished them in the microwave for a bit.  It was all good.  I was planning to make a vat of soup for lunches today but since the stove's busted I guess it'll be PB&Js for me this week.  I can live with that.

Leaves!  The apple trees in back and a few other trees in the neighborhood are getting leaves.  I drove down our old street a mile away yesterday and those trees are in flower, a step closer to leaves than the ones on our street are, but leaves are coming.  Soon the naked trees will be chastely covered for 5 or 6 months.  Oh, speaking of naked, did you realize that yesterday was World Naked Gardening Day?  I read it on Facebook but didn't celebrate.  In fact, I avoided doing any lawn or garden work all day.

The lilies of the valley are up too, not flowering yet, but their sprouting green spears are standing proudly through last year's leaves (I've taken to calling last year's leaf litter "mulch", don't you think that sounds better than admitting to being too lazy to rake last fall?  I certainly do.)

May 3--Catherine Gehm, Monarch Butterfly. Gail lay on her side watching the butterfly open and close its wings.  Sunshine lit up the dwarf daisies so they shone like pearls and the orange and black of the Monarch made a pleasing contrast.  Gail felt the dampness from last night's rain soaking her clothing but she couldn't remember how she had come to be lying outside.  Getting up didn't seem possible.  She wondered how long it would be before someone came by.

That's it for me.  I think I'm going to toss the towels down the chute, put out fresh ones, and then go downstairs and make sewing.  I have an old-timey pattern I want to try today.  Tootle-oo!
--Barbara