How Buggy Is It?

I just got up from my desk to go into the kitchen to spray my neck, shoulders, face, and arms with OFF! so I could maybe type this blog post without spending half the time waving my hands around trying to swat the mosquitoes that were buzzing in my ears.  In. The. House.  Arrgh.  And we just had a 2-hour thunderstorm so there'll be lots of nice puddles for the next generation of skeeters to get borned in.  I'm tempted to empty the birdbath because it's a basin of still water that is a perfect breeding ground for the little bloodsuckers.


Late this morning, after prime skeeter time, I went out into the garden to pick the ripe tomatoes and gave in to temptation to pull up the sweet potatoes.  I'd hoped for a couple nice plump potatoes but instead got these two skinny ones.  Now, I don't know what variety I planted so maybe I planted reddish skinny sweet potatoes but I'll be eating one of them tomorrow for supper so I'll let you know.  I definitely plan to plant more potatoes next summer, just one of each like this year but I'll do it again.









 

In the afternoon I went downstairs and finally finished the Tunic no. 1 that I started sewing up in the beginning of July (I think this is upholstery fabric but I like it) and got the in-seam pockets sewn onto the sides of the ecru linen Pants no. 1 that I cut out at the same time.  As tempted as I am to plunge into sewing up the things I cut out yesterday I'm determined to sew up the pre-cut fabric first, THEN I'll tackle the new stuff.






And I got the last two of Durwood's rifles delivered to the gun store to be shipped to their new owner in Florida so my home is now a firearm-free zone.  Whew.  I'm very glad.  Even though they were all far away from tiny hands and out of reach of any but the most determined person I'm glad that they're gone.



This evening I added a few rounds to the Orange & Lemon Slipper Sock while I listened to the rain and thunder.  Just another inch or so and it'll be time to toe.  I want to finish the sock before I pick up and finish the collar of the cardi.  Don't know why but I do.


September 17--Iran, Isfahan Carpet.  The rug drew Claire into the room.  She stretched out her hand expecting to feel the power of the rich browns, golds, and reds in the air around it.  The light shone on the tightly knotted silk.  She ran her hand over it, changing the color as she did.  "It's very old," Amos said from the doorway.  Claire jumped at the sound of his voice.  "You startled me," she said.  She looked back down at the carpet.  "Old?  It looks new to me.  The colors are bright and it looks like no one ever walked on it."  Amos laughed.  "Armies of feet have walked on it."

Unsatisfying.  I don't know what I expected to come out last night but that wasn't it.  It felt awkward and forced when I was writing it and it doesn't seem to have improved overnight.  Ah well, I'm my own worst critic.  I'm meeting a friend to write tomorrow morning.  I'll probably keep reading the novel manuscript I want to work on at The Clearing next month and keep making notes about what to fix or change so I'll be ready to hit the ground writing on the first day of the workshop.  If I don't get carried away by mosquitoes before then, that is.
--Barbara