Bird Feet

I'm sensing a theme here lately, how about you?  We got a dusting of snow overnight, maybe 1/2 an inch.  When I was out shoveling off the driveway (in the wind and 10 degrees) I saw perfect bird prints in the snow on the porch step.  There were zillions of them on the patio snow but they didn't show up when I took the picture.  I think these are super-cool looking.

I had every intention of accomplishing something today.  Sewing, most likely.  I came in from shoveling and just... sat.  Ate poorly and sat.  'Long about dark I cast on a toe covering for a cast.  Someone contacted the knitting guild asking for them and I was reminded of the need on Thursday night.  This is a couple hours' work and shouldn't take much time to finish tomorrow.



 


Now that I think of it, I did accomplish something today.  The new knitting guild president asked me to write up an article for the newsletter about entering items in the County Fair to encourage more members to give it a try so I called up the article I wrote last year and rewrote it.  I even gathered up my ribbons and entries and took their picture for it.




See the full moon?  The reason I'm so late blogging tonight is I kept going outside between 8:35 and 10:00 to see the lunar eclipse... which is tomorrow night.  Arrgh.


 

19 January--Tropical Obsession. 

Jack stood in the shade leaning against the old lighthouse recently tarted up for tourists. His trembling hands had made an inventory of his pockets, patting and groping, before he remembered he no longer smoked. Deliberate footsteps from around behind the lighthouse to his right brought his chin up and sent his eyes darting for a rock or a brick, something to use as a weapon, something for protection against further assaults. He tried to edge left, away from the sound, sliding his foot, trying to move silently. The footsteps came closer and now he thought it was more than one person. His stomach clenched as he looked at the feeble stone in his hand, maybe enough to stop one attacker but not much help with a gang of them. Now he heard their heavy breathing and muttering. He cocked his ear trying to hear their words. Were they splitting up to circle the lighthouse? To squeeze him between them, cutting off his escape? Nearer and nearer came the stealthy footsteps, his sweaty palm slid on the rough surface of the rock nestled in it. He shifted it, trying to grip it tighter, all the time pressing himself back into the brick base of the lighthouse as if he could melt into it and disappear. Close now, so close he saw a small stone dislodged by a foot roll into sight. The breathing of his stalkers was harsh and loud over the pounding of his heart. He slowly raised his hand and narrowed his eyes to steel himself for the fight when a fuzzy muzzle came into view, three of them actually, as the trio of wild donkeys paced by, their hooves crunching in the rubble and their dark questing eyes gazing at him as if to ask, food? His breath released in a short bark of laughter that caused the donkeys' ears to flicker and he ran a shaky hand over his face. He dropped the rock, consciously loosening his grip finger by finger, feeling the blood rush back. The lead donkey chuffed and shook himself, then turned and led his little herd on down the coast in search of who knows what, food or companionship or perhaps merely habit.

And that's all.  I got a new boot tray for the front closet at ALDI yesterday so I cleaned off the floor of the front closet, tossed a never-used golf umbrella and the umbrella stroller I won't use anymore into the car, and now the boots have a nice new home while the dust buffaloes are sucked into the vacuum.  Did you know that Goodwill won't take strollers, high chairs, or car seats?  Too much liability, I guess.
--Barbara