Half-Bear-Able

Well, last night after supper I got the front legs of the Mitten Bear made and attached.  Do you see that little green marker on the top of its nose?  That's there because I sewed the first leg on upside down.  Happily I hadn't woven in the whole tail and snipped it off, which would have been nearly impossible to find and undo, I just had to pick and tug and work the yarn out so I could turn the body over and start again.  That's when I pierced his nose with the green marker so I wouldn't do that again.  I started on the first of the back legs but knew it was time to quit when it took me three tries to get six single crochets in the starting ring.  When you can't reliably count to six (and more than once in a row) it's time to put your hook down and go to bed.

I worked on the 2017 calendar and course description at work yesterday (nose to the grindstone, fingers on the keys) so I only added a few rows to the next Anklet.  Not worth showing you.

What is worth showing you is the avocado pit.  That thing seems to add an inch a day and now there are leaves, actual leaves opening at the top.  Durwood's fascinated by it and seems to want to sprout a whole forest of avocado trees.  I'm trying to hold him to the two we've got started.  Since I'm the one who knows where the pots and soil are hiding I think we're safe.



This morning the sunrise was late and puny, but the third time I went out to see if the newspaper had arrived yet (not so far) the sky was that beautiful orange-ish pink all across the horizon.  Ahh, sunrise.  It won't be a sunny day, not by a long shot, but at least it started out trying real hard.



We've had an influx of squirrels the last few days.  Tuesday afternoon after my assistant and I filled the feeders there were seven of them (SEVEN!) out there cavorting and playing chase games.  This morning there were only two and this one was mighty thirsty.

December 1--Dan McGarrah, Beach Sunset.  The sun was a bright disc behind orange crush clouds and the waves rolled golden onto the sand.  The tradewinds paused so the clatter of palm fronds ceased and the only sound was the cry of a far off gull.  It was a close to silent as it got, like the whole world held its breath waiting for the daylight to fade so the night chorus could begin.  The mood was shattered when the kid next door pulled in with his music cranked so loud that the ice in my glass rattled in time with the bass.  So much for paradise.

Speaking of paradise, I need to shower and head off to work.  Toodles.
--Barbara