Not Exactly Like My Dream

Clyde, the stove fixit guy, came yesterday and, while the news wasn't my ninety-eight cent dream, it wasn't too bad.  First I hadn't really flipped the breaker back on, hadn't pushed it hard enough to click on OFF before shoving it back to ON, so he did that.  Then he removed the back of the control panel and said, "you don't use this back left burner much, do you?"  We agreed that we didn't and asked how he knew.  "Because the other three controls are arcing and sparking back here and that one looks perfect."  So we can use it again while the three controls he's ordering come in and it'll be less than $150 more than we paid him for the trip yesterday.  We won't have to pay another trip charge (whew) just for the parts and installation.  We can live with that, especially on a stove that isn't 6 years old.  Way better news than "you need a new one."

I got the first Red Marl sweater front added onto last night.  See that pale line in the red?  That's a piece of cotton yarn (I use cotton for lifelines and stitch holders because wool doesn't stick to cotton) I put in to mark where to measure from when adding rows before doing the shoulder decreases.  I didn't get the sleeves soaked and blocked out to dry but I'll probably get that started before work today so I can get them patted into shape tonight.  I just realized that I'll have to dampen and pin out the new front/shoulder pieces I'm knitting so assembly won't happen until next week.  Ooh, that means I'll get to cast on a new project--or pick up another WIP to be finished--while I wait for my sweater pieces to dry.  Maybe I'll do both.  Tonight while we watch TV after supper I can press Durwood into service as a swift to wind up the yarn for a mosaic stitch hat I want to knit, and I'll take my WIP to work just in case I get the sweater front done with knitting time to spare.  It's kind of a rainy day so divers might be scarce.

I caved and let the lawn service come ONE TIME yesterday and only spray fertilizer and weed killer, no pesticide to kill my monarch caterpillars or any other insects.  I'm tired of the chemicals, never really liked them in the first place, and I don't want them on my property.  Oh, I'll take a bottle of weed killer out and spot-spray the thistles that grow in the lawn and maybe a few dandelions but I confess I kind of like dandelions ("dandelions are flowers too, Dad" said DD, age 4 when asked to pop the heads off the ones in the lawn so they didn't go to seed) and I love the wild violets except the ones in the garden.

May 6--JD Marston, Fall, Aspen Path, CO.  Damn the wind.  Drake stood looking down the path he knew Laura must have taken when she left.  The wind had risen steadily and the aspen leaves fell like golden rain.  There was no way he would be able to track her.  The sound of the leaves skittering along the ground and the swaying branches covered any sounds she might make.  He shook his head and started down the path.  It would be sundown soon, that meant the temperature would drop to freezing and he knew she wasn't equipped for a night in the open.  He buttoned his sheepskin jacket and settled his hat more firmly on his head.  His flashlight and lighter were in his pocket.  He would need them soon, it got dark fast in the Wyoming woods and he'd need to build a fire if she'd stumbled into the creek.  As soon as he was out of sight Laura wriggled out of the thicket where she was hiding and let herself back into the cabin.  She washed the tear stains from her face and brushed the leaves and tangles from her long auburn curls.

Okay, rainy or not I have to go to work and that means brushing my teeth, combing my hair and changing out of my yoga pants and beloved but ratty red hoodie so I'd better get a move on.  Later, dudes and dudettes.
--Barbara