Dropped Stitches

Last night after supper I knitted on the Rapid City Beaded Scarf until I had 7 beads remaining.  (for a while I thought I'd never get there)  I promised the Friday Night Knitters that if I got to the end I'd wait until next Friday to perform the magic that takes it from a plain scarf with beads in there somewhere to a Magic Lace Beaded Scarf (or whatever its proper name is) but I just had to do one to see how it'll look.  I can see that I'm going to have to block the bejeebers out of it because it still wants to curl but I think I'll like how it looks.

The sun looked kind of cool through this morning's wildfire smoke haze peeking through a shrub and there are a lot of new blossoms on the honeysuckle.  Maybe that'll bring the hummingbirds back around.  We can tell they've been visiting because the level of birdie juice is falling in the feeders but I like seeing them in person.  They're like little wind-up birds or maybe big bugs.  They're so cute!  And so fierce.  You should see the dogfights when two males want to eat from the same feeder.

The red-orange Asiatic lilies right out the front door are going gangbusters.  Love 'em!

July 6--Carr Clifton, Acadia National Park, Maine.  Bridge lay on his stomach on the boulder.  He didn't care that the mist soaked into his clothes and his fingers were nearly frozen.  He was determined to draw the overlapping colors of moss and lichens that covered the dark gray granite.  The grass that grew up between the boulders was autumn gold and the sumacs blazed deep red in front of the dark green pine trees that covered the hill.  The mist clung to the tops of the trees like they were trying to pull the clouds down to earth.  He heard a crashing in the trees and slowly turned, hoping to see a deer come bounding out into the clearing.  Not a bear, he didn't want to see a bear.  This time of year bears did nothing but eat before their long winter sleep and they tended to be ornery about it.  Now that he thought about it neither deer nor bear would make that much noise.  He put his sketch pad and pencil into his old canvas backpack, tied it shut, and slid his arms through the straps.  Just as he stood up a man came stumbling out of the trees.  The man staggered for a couple steps and then fell face down, not even trying to catch himself.  Bridge watched him for a minute and when he didn't get up again or move at all, he took off running toward the prone figure.

It's supposed to storm later today.  I'm confident that it'll hold off until I have to leave work for my dental appointment.  That's just the way things go, isn't it?  Enjoy your Monday.  It's payday!
--Barbara