Thunder Moon

That's my favorite of the names for this month's full moon.  It could also be called the Buck Moon because July is when buck deer's antlers push out of their foreheads covered in velvet.  I like Thunder Moon because this month is when we get thunderstorms.  I like thunderstorms.  I stopped in a parking lot on my way home from the City Band concert last night to get the first picture and then I went out into the street once it was full dark at about 10 o'clock to see if I could do better.  I think I got "moodier" but I'm not sure I got "better."

I worked on the Practice Mosaic hat yesterday, got another repeat done and started on the next one--until my fingers got too cold knitting in the park listening to the band.  It was chilly last night, so chilly and breezy that I thought about digging my wool stadium blanket out of the car but I toughed it out.  Next week I'll toss a smaller flannel blanket in the car for the concert.  It gets chilly once the sun goes down around these parts.  Especially this summer.  Last night's music was good with lots of Sousa marches and other patriotic sorts of songs.  Next week is 50s and 60s tunes, can't wait to sing along.

I really enjoyed supper last night at Los Magueyes.  I had a chicken quesadilla with rice and beans.  It was all delicious and not spicy.  In fact, I was kind of looking for something to spice it up since I don't want to salt things and it really didn't need salt, it needed spice.  I just had a thought... I could have used pepper, couldn't I?  D'oh.  *head, slap*  I think I'll drag Durwood over there for supper one of these nights soon.

July 2--Silverstock, Nurse.  Mac opened one eye to look at the woman in the doorway.  It was pretty dark in the room so all he saw was her silhouette in the hall light.  "Go away."  He tried to turn over but the sides of the bed were up trapping him in the narrow space.  She flicked on the room light.  "Time to check your BP and temp," she said.  He groaned.  "How is a person supposed to rest when one of you is in here every fifteen minutes poking and prodding me to measure something that I'm sure hasn't changed since the last time you were here."  As he talked she raised the head of his bed a bit, put the blood pressure cuff on his arm, and then stuck a thermometer in his mouth so his last few words came out like "mm mmm hmm."  It's hard to complain effectively with a plastic stick in your mouth.

I like that one too, or maybe it's because I'm listening to Water for Elephants and the old narrator's an irascible old coot in a nursing home.  Derivative.  I figure I haven't gone over the edge (too far) if I can recognize it when I write it.  I like Mac though, maybe I'll find something else for him to complain about.  Time to run, I've got a haircut at 9 o'clock all the way over in DePere (it's about 5 miles).  Toodles!
--Barbara