Making the News

Newsletter, that is.  Today I plunked myself down here in mid-morning and spent the day churning out six pages of Bay Lakes Knitting Guild newsletter.  This is the last one I'll do.  Someone else gets the pleasure of doing it next.  I've done it for 2018, now it's KP's turn.  I got lucky this month, a few people sent links or little articles or big articles so I just had to jigsaw them into some semblance of order and only needed to find a free one-page pattern to include.  It isn't hard work, it's time consuming.  I'll read through it tomorrow morning, make any corrections I find, turn it into a pdf, then into a Word document, and email it to the membership.




This little Mr. Downy Woodpecker spent nearly 15 minutes up in the very top of the apple tree before deciding it was safe to come down for a suet snack.  I watched him move around a biggish branch a few times and then whoosh there he was.



 

After supper and after going to Walmart for frozen blueberries and a few other items, I finished Appleseed Mitt #2 so now I have a pair of soft and warm fingerless mitts.  Next I'll cast on the dishcloth I need for the December knitting guild exchange and another critter hat for a grandkid.  Christmas is galloping our way.


Today's toss was a 8mm movie editor/splicing machine thingy.  Outdated, ugly, and useless.  Out with the trash.

The doorbell rang this afternoon.  I opened the door to find the brother of a high school and writing friend who is caregiver for some developmentally disabled men who live in a duplex at the end of the street.  BK said he needed a favor.  Seems he works until 10 PM, is almost out of gas, and doesn't get paid until Friday so could I loan him $2 so he doesn't run out on the way home?  Of course.  I asked if $2 was enough and he said maybe $3 if I could, so I gave him $5.  It's too darned cold to get stuck and have to walk.  He insisted that he'll pay me back, I asked him to pay it forward.  I'd rather have him do that than feel obligated to get it back to me.  Do a favor for a stranger, BK, the world needs kindness much more than I need that five bucks back.

27 November--Tiffany & Co., Cigarette case, 1930s style.  Raellyn reached way back in Grandmama's dresser drawer.  Something shiny had winked at her when she pulled it open to retrieve Grandmama's violet handkerchief.  Her fingers closed on the metal box and drew it out into the light.  She found the latch and the top sprung open.  At first she thought it was a compact holding powder, a mirror, and a place for a bit of money for cab fare home from a bad date but the spicy aroma of tobacco and tiny brown shreds caught in the hinge told her that it was a cigarette case.  Grandmama didn't smoke, did she?  She always said, "Ladies do not smoke cigarettes."  The way she said it Raellyn knew that was the gospel truth.

I am happy to report that my jaw hardly aches today for which I am eternally grateful but I'll be glad in two weeks to get my partial back.  It's not easy to eat baby carrots when your chewing teeth are unopposed on one side and you've been warned not to chew on the other.  Soup it is.
--Barbara