Too Far Away

I have always thought that we live too far away from DD, SIL1, and Aa... but now I know we do.  On Monday DD called to say that their house was on fire.  !!!!!!!!  Seems a cellphone charger overheated, lit their bed on fire, and burned up their bedroom, closets, bathroom, and smoke damaged everything.  Aa got the dogs out and the firemen rescued the kitties so all mammals are safe and accounted for and their insurance company is being wonderful, but they're displaced for months while their house is being repaired and they've lost a lot of "stuff" which we all know costs a lot to replace.  A friend has set up a "go fund me" for incidentals, and this is in no way a plea for donations, but it warms my mom's heart to see that so many people are caring for my beloveds in their hour of need.  If I didn't think I'd be in the way, I'd drive or fly down there RIGHT NOW to make it all better.  As if I could...

I played hide-and-seek with a cardinal and the camera this morning.  I meant to take a picture of a passing crow but it didn't stay long enough to pose.  The cardinal was on the platform feeder but by the time I got the camera out and turned on it had flown to a flower stalk in the garden so I snapped one through the window and screen.  Then I carefully slid open the patio door to get a better picture and it fluttered to the wire fencing behind the bee balm and daisies.  I got it anyway.  Ha!










Last night after the supper and social security talk (that I didn't really get anything from, she talked too fast and didn't seem to have a point [I suspect that's an old person's response *sigh*]) I piled up on the couch with an ice pack (because I volunteered to get us drinks and the bar was as far from the banquet room it could be and still be in the building *pant, pant*) and finished the right ankle scallop of the Autumn Cumulus sock, then I picked up stitches for the left one.  I looked at the pattern this morning and I have only three more scallops (including the one I started) before it's time to knit the cuff.  Hallelujah!  I've enjoyed making this and I love the yarn but I'll be glad to not have to pick up 19 and then 44 stitches every time I turn around, although from now on picking up stitches will be a cake walk.


The last thing I have to show you is the celery.  I'm sorry I keep slapping pictures of it on here but look how much it's grown.  I mean, really, I think I'm going to call it "rocket" celery.  I showed the cleaning lady the "farm" yesterday, gave her chocolate and apple mint leaves and a pineapple sage leaf to taste and then showed off the rocket celery.  She wanted to know where I got the mints and how to grow her own celery and other food stuffs so I gave her a copy of the internet info I'd gathered and sent her off to Stein's for herb plants.  I was tickled that she was so ticked by it all.  It's fun to find someone as silly/wacky as I am.  Makes me feel less alone.  (And before you protest, yes, I know that I have gathered a fine scrum of silly and wacky pals [you know who you are] around me, I'm just excited to find one more.)

June 29--Richard Pasley, Boat on Lake at Sunset.  Jilly wrapped her old corduroy coat tighter and tugged up the collar of her flannel shirt.  A sharp breeze had sprung up from across the marsh as the sun sank below the horizon.  The lake looked like a sheet of hammered copper in the fading light, its surface barely ruffled by the breeze.  The old dock creaked and groaned like an arthritic dog and she felt the lake pull at the pilings when the ripples hissed back from the rocky shore.  Grant had driven off three days ago after a blazing argument over selling the lake property.  He wanted to sell, she didn't and ultimately it was her decision.  Selling this place would feel like selling her family.  All of her best memories took place within sight of where she stood.  Heavy footfalls shook the dock.  "Jilly?  What're you doing out here in the dark?"  She turned, "Grant, I..."  Her voice trailed off.  "Mel, what can I do for you?"  The sheriff stopped beside her, his gun belt creaking.  "Jilly, do you know where Grant is?"  She shook her head.  "No.  We had a big fight on Tuesday and he left.  What do you need him for?"  Mel shifted his weight, making the timbers groan.  "We, uh, we found his truck at the bottom of Damien's Creek, wheels sticking up out of the water."  She felt like the whole world held its breath.  "Deadman's Creek?  Is he dead?"  "We don't know.  He's not in the truck."  He put a hand on her arm.  "Come inside and get warm.  I need to ask you some questions."  She turned and walked past him without meeting his eyes.

Okay, this one definitely gets a star so I remember to write more.  Even I want to know what happens next.  Today's a work day and I need to leave in about 7 minutes so I'd better wrap this up.  At least I'm already dressed, etc.
--Barbara