Flashback to June

Because I went down to the dive shop to use the big table in the back room to trace and cut

out the three new patterns I got from 100 Acts of Sewing.  It was kind of weird to be there and not be working.  It's only the third time I've been there since retiring.  I got the leggings pattern traced and cut out, and the basic shirt, but when I was tracing the dress pattern I realized that they'd sent me the wrong size or I'd ordered the wrong one.  Dang it.  I quickly sent an email and got an almost instant reply that she'd put the right size in the mail.  In fact the mailing notice arrived in my email box before her response, and she said to keep the one sent in error to share with a friend.  Wanna be my friend?  As I was rolling the fabric back onto the bolt I finally realized what it reminds me of.  My great-grandmother had sheer white curtains in her parlor that were starched to the utmost and this fabric is very much like those curtains.  Oh thank goodness, it was bugging the daylights out of me trying to figure that out.


This morning's sky was beautiful, all blue with just the barest hint of pink in the east.  It was only after I came back inside that I realized I was out there barefoot in underpants and a hoodie.  Tsk.  Will I never learn?  Good thing it wasn't icy or April 1, right?






I've got the first of OJ's mittens knitted to the point of closing the top.  After supper I'll sit on the couch and get that done, then knit the little thumb, and cast on mitten #2.  Once that's done I'll take a crochet hook and make a string to connect them (idiot mittens, we call them) so they don't get lost when he takes them off which I am supremely confident he will do no matter how cold it is outside.

November 27--Edouard Vuillard, The Painter Jean-Louis Forain in His Studio.  Theodore sat in the same chair in the café every morning.  Everyone in the neighborhood knew that the chair in the sunny corner was Theodore's.  That Tuesday a ruddy-faced man came in, ordered a black coffee, and sat in the sunny corner to read his newspaper.  All of the regulars stared as if at an apparition, then swiveled to look at the barista, Brandon.  Brandon felt all those eyes on him as he served the steady stream of morning customers.  In between pleasantries he thought about what he could say to the man to get him to vacate Theodore's place.  He glanced at the clock, the old man would arrive in five minutes.  He was very prompt.

I fell asleep at "pleasantries," did a bit of sleep scribbling, then I woke up enough to write down the rest before turning off the light and calling it a night.  Time to prepare tonight's turkey, gravy, some kind of potato, and veggies for supper.  Ah, leftovers.
--Barbara