Perfect Summer Supper

That's what we had last night, a perfect summer supper.  I'd spent the day in Sturgeon Bay up in Door County meeting a friend for lunch and then we knitted the afternoon away in a park with a view out over the water.  I didn't get home until after suppertime so I just micro-zapped a couple ears of sweet corn and cut up some tomatoes from the garden that we put a bit of salad dressing on and called it supper.  That was the third or fourth time we'd done that and Durwood and I agree that it's the perfect supper of summer.  Who can argue with corn that was picked in the morning and tomatoes still warm from the garden?


You would have been so proud of me, KS too, because we looked all over Spin, the yarn shop in Sturgeon Bay and neither of us bought a thing.  AND most of the yarn was 40% off!  There was some yarn that tempted me but, honestly, I couldn't figure out what I'd make with it and I have so much yarn here that I just couldn't get more.  Besides since I retired my disposable income has shrunk considerably (and I need to save my mad money because I'm going to the WI Sheep & Wool Festival next month with the guild).


It was such a beautiful day that we looked for a place to sit outside in the shade and knit.  I suggested the Old Stone Quarry Park where we've gone diving a zillion times so we drove a few miles out of town and found peace, shade, and a breeze.  This was our view.  Nice, huh?




In case we decided to knit in Spin I put a skein of sock yarn of a type I knew they sold in my bag and cast on the cuff while waiting for KS.  See, it's rude to knit in a yarn shop with yarn you didn't buy there but I wasn't going to dig around and find some I'd actually bought there (because God only knows where I'd have to look) so I figured this would be the next best thing.  Even though we didn't stay to knit indoors I kept going, knitting the cuff and then getting into the leg of the sock.  I think I'm going to love this sock.  It's a tried and true pattern just in different yarn.








 
Thursday night at guild, Friday night at FNK, and this morning I knitted the body of Hoot the Second.  I don't have enough of the feathery yarn to carry along with the browns for the head so I'll have to do a little finagling, make it bigger than the pattern says, so it doesn't look like Hoot the 2nd has a pinhead.  I've got some other novelty yarn to carry along when I make the wings and I thought I'd like the head to be fuzzy but not feathery, if that makes any sense.  I'm sure it won't be rejected by the panel of judges, aka LC & OJ.

 

On my way home from Door Co. I stopped to see the new grand-chickens.  The previous ones had passed their laying days so they retired to a plush farm in the wilds of western Brown Co. and DIL1 and her mom went and got four new, teen-aged hens.  They're not laying yet but will be soon.  Nobody was home but I know the way around to the back yard so I stopped to see the new ladies.  They're all reddish gold with some white on them.  I don't know their names but I'll pass them along once we're formally introduced.  I did take a moment to pet Porter while I was there.  Can't forget her, she's a real sweetheart and likes petting, unlike the chickens who run away clucking and flapping when you get too close.  Birdbrains.



August 20--Emile Bernard, Madeline in the Bois d'Amour on the river Aven.  She lay there as if napping in the dappled shade.  Her blue dress' skirt was smoothed over her legs.  Her left hand rested on her stomach while her cheek rested on her right hand.  She hadn't been there long.  No forest creatures had disturbed her, no leaves had fallen in her red hair.  Jared and Emilia stood a respectful distance away listening to the wind slip through the tree branches and the nearby stream chuckle to itself.  "Does anyone know her?"  Emilia asked.  Jared shrugged and looked past her, past the plastic yellow tape with the black letters that fenced the woman off from the rest of the world.  "Well," he said, "someone somewhere knows her but we haven't found anyone nearby who does."  His eyes swept the orderly rows of the tree plantation.  "Do we even know whose land this is?"  Emilia pulled her notebook from her pocket.  "It belongs to Clarence and Maddy Ferguson but they're both down in Midland at the nursing home."  She shook her head.  "They've both got some kind of dementia and they had no kids."  "That's no help," said Jared.  He walked toward the sunny stream bank, watching where he put his feet.

How did it get to be 4:30 already?  I had big plans to plant those lilies today.  I suppose I can put on some yard work shoes and go do that.  It isn't like it's almost night.  It's cloudier than all get out though; I sure hope it clears up for the eclipse tomorrow.  I am so sure that all the hype almost guarantees a cloudy day.
--Barbara