Bluejay Line-Up

I was eating my Rice Krispies this morning when I glanced up into the bare apple tree and saw two Bluejays and one Mourning Dove lined up waiting for a squirrel to clear out before they took turns flying down for peanuts and seeds.  The doves don't eat peanuts, they eat whatever seeds fall to the ground.  They remind me of little old ladies, they're so skittish and fly off at the slightest disturbance.  They also can't figure out which way to land on the birdbath.  Half of the time they stand there with their tail feathers in the water looking around confused about where the water went.  Or maybe that's just my interpretation of their expression.

I spent the better part of the afternoon sitting in St. Brendan's Inn where I met a knitting friend for lunch.  She is clearing out her late mother and late sister's things and came with a handful of wonderful old embroidery transfers and some crewel patterns that she passed along.  Her husband died about 30 years ago and a few months after his death a friend took her out to lunch which meant a lot to her so she's been paying that forward to women who lose their spouse every since.  We had a lovely long chat.  She was in the WAVES in WWII and now goes on Elder Hostel trips all over the globe with friends.  I want to grow up to be like her.  Maybe if I'm lucky I will.




I got there a little early so I walked along the river a bit.  There's a trail along the river and over time they're adding sculptures.  Here're two near the restaurant--a big wading bird and what I thought was a rooster from one angle but the other one I see a collection of stars and feathers.  I was glad when I saw her drive up, it was chilly out there.

Today's toss was another old darkroom box o'crap.  There were those flashbulbs with what looks like steel wool filaments.  Remember how bright those were?  Every time I think of them I see spots.  It's a good thing tomorrow night's trash night, I can't fit another thing in the garbage bin.




 
After supper I knitted the brim ribbing on the second raccoon hat.  Twenty-two rounds of hat body knitting and it'll be time to decrease for the crown.

10 December--Benozzo Gozzoli, Procession of the Magi.  There were too many of them to count.  Men on horseback, men on foot, men with servants, men alone, all of them with one destination like lemmings running into the sea.  It seemed like a form of mass hysteria, all of them following the light of that one star suddenly bright.  A rumor spread from lips to ears like wildfire, a king was to be born in the light of that new star.  All of the wizards, the mages packed up and left home and family, left to follow a star and the whisper of a promise of a Great One, a savior being born.  How to know if he will be the one?

I didn't sew another dress today.  I'd hoped to but spent the day chatting with my friend about traveling and life.  An excellent way to spend the day.  Tomorrow morning I get my crown and my partial back.  Maybe when my back teeth meet correctly my jaw will quit aching.  I've been living on Tylenol every 6 hours for 2 weeks.  I'm ready to be back to what passes for normal.
--Barbara