Wednesday, October 12, 2016

Red Bird Day

Carrying on the "red" theme from the other day I spied a young cardinal at the feeder yesterday.  You can tell he's a young one because of his dull coloring.  If he were an adult he'd be redder instead of looking like a hybrid male/female.  And that concludes our science lesson for the day.





This morning's clouds aren't much thicker than yesterday's but they're not supposed to go away like they did yesterday.  Today they're supposed to bring rain and usher in much chillier temps.  It was almost 80 in here last night after I closed the patio door, etc. too early but there's probably zero chance of that happening today without sunshine and temps around 70.  So long jeans and a cotton sweater will be the uniform for the day.  I also noticed how much further south the sun's rising these days.  You know what that means, right?  The W word is on the way.



I knitted a little last night on the latest doublethick cloth which is a reknit of a crocheted one I frogged because it was too thick to wring out.  How come double thick knitting's easier to wring that crochet?  All crochet's thicker than knitting, crochet uses more yarn, but you'd think that doubled knitting would be the same--but it isn't.  Why?  Anybody?

 

October 12--James Kay, BEM-6.  Sheri looked at Dave sitting in one of those ubiquitous white plastic chairs parked in the shallows.  The water lapped at the underside of the seat and since it was so calm he was wet only to his knees.  As wide-brimmed straw hat shaded his face and his hands were clasped behind his head.  She had the fleeting thought to call out to him to put sunblock in his armpits but decided not to disturb him; he wouldn't do it anyway.  She shook her head over how easy it was for him to just step away from the rat race and relax.  Not so for her.  Her mind churned over every minute detail of each workday, remarks people made no matter how casually, and interpretations of what she assumed people's offhand comments implied.  She was certain she would worry herself into an early grave but didn't know how to stop.

Well, that's me in a nutshell and I don't mean I'm that Dave sitting, carefree and relaxed, in the calm sea.  I'd like to be but evidently I'm just not wired that way.  Or it could be the essential difference between men and women--nah, I know men that worry over things and women that don't.  Ah well, time to stop worrying about worrying, get dressed for work, and hope I get there before it rains.  Tally-ho!
--Barbara

1 comment:

Aunt B said...

Even before you admitted it, I thought you were describing yourself in the little story today. And I agree that we women do worry needlessly so many times. It can be hard not to but I try not to worry myself silly -- I'm silly enough to begin with. I bet you can relate to that.