Entries

I just finished entering seven knitted items in the 2019 Brown County Fair.  The deadline is the middle of July so I spent some time this afternoon looking at things that I've knitted and deciding which to enter.  It's still only $4 to enter as many items as you want but the price of a daily ticket went up to $10 from $9, not a big deal.  There's still time for more entries if I find something.  I love doing this.  It's inexpensive fun, rewarding to have my work judged, and I get ribbons.



Dad's rose has a whole bunch of buds that will open in a day or two.  I don't know what variety it is, all I know is that the flowers smell like roses are supposed to smell.  And they're dark red to boot.  Glorious.





Dad's old workboots are sitting in their usual place on the edge of the porch filled to overflowing with hens & chicks.






DIL1 asked me if I could fix the hand of her childhood pal and I agreed to try.  I spied some tan fleece downstairs so I cut a small circle, got out a curved needle, and patched the boo boo.  It's not perfect, not by any means, but it'll keep his stuffing from coming out.









I realized that I haven't shown you the third chrysalis & monarch all together.  Here you go.










 
Man, did it rain late this afternoon.  It got darker and darker until the sky opened up and the rain poured down.  I went out to see what was happening in the backyard and saw a small muddy stream flowing across the yard.  I hope that all of my new grass seed didn't float over to the neighbor's yard.  They raked the seed in so maybe it'll be okay.  Fingers crossed.  I can hear thunder in the distance now.  Maybe the storm's moving away.



This morning I saw the bright yellow flowers of the patty pan squash so I went over to look and the little pea-size squash I saw the other day is now about gumball-size.  Yay!






Also the red of radishes is showing in spots.  The feathery carrot tops are still too small to have carrots under them.  I figure that the radishes will be picked before they're in the carrots' way.  She says hopefully.



24 June--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon. 

Coming home after class, I turned off the State Highway onto the lane.  My headlights cut a path through the darkness.  The gravel surface forced me to slow down and watch where I was going.  The lane had enough twists that you couldn’t drive it on autopilot.  I liked how the leaves swirled off the trees in the autumn breeze.  They looked like Technicolor rain as they flew through the night.  It had been years since I’d had a reason to be out regularly at night and I drank in the unfamiliarity of my view.

            Passing Clara’s house, I noticed a light still on in the living room.  Clara must be up reading or working on a crossword, I thought.  A mutual love of the word puzzles is what had drawn us together over thirty years ago.

            I put the car in the garage and walked up the path to the backdoor, Clara’s light winking at me through the leafless trees.  I set my paint basket on the floor of the porch and decided to walk over to visit, even though it was nearly midnight. Halfway there, picking my way carefully in the dark, I looked up to see a familiar figure coming toward me.

            “Couldn’t sleep, Clara?”

            “No.  I got up about an hour ago so I wouldn’t disturb Hank.  I hate menopause.  When I saw your headlights go by I decided to run over.  So, how was class?”

            “It was great.  We learned about painting shadows.  Come on, I’ll make us some chamomile tea.  Maybe that’ll put us both to sleep.”

            We linked arms and took our time getting to my place.  It was a fine autumn night.

            “Look!  A shooting star,” said Clara.  “Make a wish.”

            “I wish everyone could have a friend like you, Clara.”

            We leaned together and stood in silence watching the constellations in their slow waltz across the heavens.  After a few minutes we made our way to my kitchen where we sipped tea and talked long into the night.

It was another lazy day.  I did step aerobics on the Wii which made me pant and sweat so I think that's a pretty good workout, don't you?  The temps are supposed to be in the mid-80s the rest of the week.  With today's rain that should ratchet up the humidity to right about unbearable.  *sigh*  Be careful what you wish for...
--Barbara