It Might Be Dark But It Isn't Midnight

So I'm doing better today, right?  It was sunny but darned cold today.  I don't think it got much above 32 degrees all day.  I spent my day inside making things, except for a quick trip to Kwik Trip for bananas, that is.  You know how much I like making things.

 
First thing this morning I made a batch of Balsamic Cranberry-Fig Compote.  The recipe was in last week's Parade magazine in the Sunday paper and I already had all of the ingredients and I like all the ingredients so I figured I'd like the compote.  And I do.  Even Durwood likes it.  It's very expensive, WW-points-wise, but the recipe makes about 3 cups so I put it into 2 pint jars, I'll take one jar along on Thanksgiving and have one to tempt me in the fridge.  It's do-able.  I just won't eat it all at one sitting and Durwood's bound to want his share.  We made WW Shrimp with Veggies and Creamy Herb Grits for supper again tonight because it is sooooo good.

Oh!  Look what came today.  Fighter planes.  Four of 'em.  All for me.  I graciously allowed all those fools sitting freezing their hoo-hoos off at Lambeau to see them and hear them too.  I'm nice like that.  But I know in my heart of hearts that the fly-overs are meant for me and me alone.  It's the only part of football games I like.






In the afternoon I went downstairs because someone neglected to throw his jeans down the

chute last week when I asked for dirties and "it's the only pair of jeans that doesn't scratch me with the rivets."  As if the pants have their own agenda.  I ask you.  (I'll take a look at the rivets on the offending jeans to see if I can't subdue them so they don't scratch him when he puts his hand in the pocket.)  Anyway, that gave me time to take in the waists of all of the new school pants that DIL1 bought for LC.  Seems she's tall enough to wear 4T clothes but she's a stringbean (Mama's word, not mine) like her mama so last week one day the teacher said that by the time she'd run to the playground her pants were around her ankles.  Not a good school look, plus it's cold.  So it's Meemaw's sewing machine to the rescue.  I just pinched the waistband in the back and sewed it, then sewed down the pinch.  It leaves a pleat in the back but also can be easily removed when she needs a little bit bigger waist in her pants.  Besides 4K isn't about fashion, it's about comfort and function--and your pants staying up when you run.  I love being asked to do little sewing jobs for DIL1.  She's not a seamstress (she has other gifts that I don't have) but I am (at least in a moderate way, not anything like the way Mom sewed) so this is a way I can help.  I remember how overwhelmed I felt at times when I had an almost-4-year-old and a year-and-a-half old to deal with and I didn't go off to work every day.  I only had a husband who was out of town about 75% of the time.

November 19--Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida, Valencian Women at the Beach.  It was windy there on the sand.  Fine grains skimmed across the surface of the beach making Marla's ankles feel, well, sandblasted.  She walked as fast as the soft sand let her.  The argument had been about nothing.  Stuart had been less than complimentary about supper, she'd gotten her feelings hurt, and stormed out.  Now she was stomping up the beach toward the cluster of shacks that made up Malibu Jack's with twenty bucks in her pocket and a mad on.  Not a great combination.

Time to go down and drag the clothes out of the dryer before they wrinkle beyond salvation.  Maybe I'll spend a few minutes down there working on the last Dress No. 1--or maybe I'll just come back upstairs and sit staring at the TV for a while.  That sounds appealing.  Later, dudes and dudettes.
--Barbara