Breakfast Club

Fooled by the bright sunshine I went out in yoga pants, hoodie, boots, and gloves around 8 AM to fill the feeders.  It was 6 degrees.  SIX!!!  Bloody cold.  My fingertips were instantly numb and I was wearing lined suede gloves.  Brrr.  But the birdies were appreciative, except for a cardinal that kept calling from a nearby tree and was too shy to come down to the platform feeder once I was back inside.  This house finch came in so fast a few seeds splashed out the other side.  The downy woodpecker came back again but today I managed to catch her just as she leaned to fly away.  Snap!  Gotcha.









I have the most interesting customers come into the dive shop.  Yesterday I got a call from a guy looking for a "mouthpiece for my welding helmet."  I was stumped but suggested he stop in with said helmet and we'd see what we could do.  He was there shortly and said he welds in the garage in winter and his breath fogs the face shield so what he was looking for was a snorkel he could mount on the edge so he could see what he was welding.  I asked what he welded and it turned out he's the guy at the end of Bellevue St. who has huge metal sculptures in his yard--horses and all kinds of cool things.  I was so excited to meet him and said something stupid like, "Oh, you're that guy!"  But I was grinning like an idiot too.  I think he was flattered.  I'll have to drive by this weekend to see what he's got and take a picture to share with you. (P.S. We found one that worked.)


I'm much happier with the way the Llama Sock is looking.  I remembered to turn it inside out to add the color work so it doesn't pinch in and I also like the dark amber orange color better than the navy.




 

Last night's sunset was a beaut.  See?

March 3--Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, The Salon at Rue de Moulins.  There were five women in the room.  The clothes were falling off of four of them, straps just barely clinging to their shoulders, decolletage one breath away from revealing all.  The fifth was dressed for winter in a long-sleeved turtleneck sweater.  Hank and Gabe watched through the window hoping they'd move, hoping a thin strap would slide just a little farther, that one of them would take a deep breath or lean forward so they could see something.  They were tired of being the only ones at camp outs who had never seen a naked woman in real life.  Pictures in magazines didn't count.

Okey-dokey.  Time to bundle up and saddle up for a short round of errands.
--Barbara