Damn Cold

That was today, damn cold, rainy too.  It never got up to 45 degrees and spit rain out of the low clouds all day.  Ack.  Not a fit day out for man nor beast nor woman who wanted to condition her bales and measure her 2 x 4s.  It's supposed to be in the 70s by Monday.  I predict that we'll all have colds by next weekend from the hot-cold-hot weather we've had lately.  There was a slim chance we could have sleet today but it never materialized, thank god.  Durwood spotted this male Downy Woodpecker that stopped for a few pecks at the suet while we were having supper.



Today's Me Made May effort consisted of the black and white floral Dress No. 1 in a linen blend and the Bulky Cardigan I made a few years back out of yarn that had been two other projects before it settled into this sweater.  I was afraid I'd wear out the yarn knitting and ripping it before I managed to find its true destiny.  I was glad to have the wool shrug in today's damp and windy weather.  I confess that I still wore capris even with a long-sleeved tee and wool sweater.  It was just unthinkable to go back to wearing long pants and wool socks in May.



Tonight at knitting I bound off Car Knitting Warshrag #11.  This one got made in just over a month but that included the two Saturdays I went to the crushingly boring class I foolishly signed up at the senior center.  I should know by now that I'm allergic to "self-help" books and classes.  When I found myself dreading having to go to the next class for the entire week I knew I had to politely say that I wouldn't be back.  But I did get the Car Knitting Warshrag done in record time.

 
I found a set of patterns to make crocheted vegetables so I used the orange yarn from the warshrag to start a carrot but decided after only 6 rows or so that it's too big so I'm going to rip out what I made and go down a couple hook sizes which will also make the stitches tighter so the stuffing won't poke out the holes as readily. 

May 11--Paul Gauguin, Pastorales Tahitiennes.  The pair of girls walked down the path that wound through the coconut palms, banana plants, and the cassava gardens.  Their red mongrel dog tracked from side to side, nose down, tail flicking like a metronome, ready to take off after a promising scent.  Lia carried the basket of bread and fruit for old Madame Gris and Tia had her flute.  She wasn't playing it but her fingers touched the holes in turn as if she were rehearsing a song in her head.

I have high hopes for it being warmer tomorrow and maybe even sunny.  If it's crappy I intend to hide out in the basement sewing and doing laundry.  Pray for sun--although my pile of clean undies is getting a little low...
--Barbara