A Shrubbery

Not many twigs and no big branches from the neighbors' trees blew into my yard during Saturday's storms.  I did see this shrub fly into the tall weeds & grass at the foot of the new retaining wall.  I'm assuming that the city will send the stick truck around once everyone has power and all the municipal cleanup is underway.










I mowed the lawn today.  Not the whole lawn, not the upper part of the slope, I'll give that another day so that the soil dries and firms up some before I try to maneuver the lawnmower up there.  I didn't know when it was time to mow.  Online said eight weeks which seemed excessive so I texted CG this morning asking when to mow and he said now, that the grass will fill in and grow thicker  once it's mowed.  It looks so much better.  I never knew how much I appreciate a nice even lawn.







Violets, my Karmic Balancing Gift kit came today.  The yarn is beautiful and the pattern is scary.  It starts with you casting on 338 stitches (OMG!), joining the ends, and knitting it in the round with steek stitches where the ends join.  Steek stitches are disposable ones that you cut (with a scissors!) to separate the sides of a cardigan or, in this case, the ends of a scarf.  Holy Moses!  Even the picture scares me but I invited one of the Guild knitters over Wednesday afternoon and she knits those complicated Norwegian mittens so she might be a good mentor through this project.  Plus her name is Barbara too.  There are three Barbara's in the guild which is amazing because it's just not that common of a name.

After walking this morning and then mowing the lawn I was pretty tired this afternoon.  I showered (I had to, even I thought I was disgustingly smelly and sweaty), then had lunch, snatched a surprise nap when I sat down to put on some socks, then cast on a sock using the Virgo yarn I bought at ReBelle in Lexington in November and trying out the cuff-down pattern in the new Mason-Dixon Knitting Field Guide #11--Wanderlust.  I wouldn't have chosen these colors but evidently they're somehow connected with my zodiac sign so I'm making the best of it.  I'm thinking I'll use the Slip Stitch pattern but if the colors in the cuff obscures the ribbing I might just do a plain sock... nah, I'll do one of the twelve different patterns for the leg.  This little field guide is a clever concept; there are two sock patterns (cuff-down and toe-up), three cuffs to choose from, and twelve patterns for all over the sock or just a panel down the front.  There's also yet-another heel to try.  Too much fun.  Yes, I know you can buy socks at Walmart and Goodwill for about a dollar a pair but they can't compare to the beauty, challenge, and fun of knitting your own, not to mention being able to say "Oh, I knitted them myself" when someone complements you on your socks.


As if I hadn't tortured my legs enough today, after supper I met a friend at the Y to walk in the pool.  I think that might have been the best idea because for the first time in about 24 hours my legs aren't aching.  She has some nifty walk-in-the-water shoes that I admired and I'm going to need some for Yellowstone so I stopped at Fleet Farm (where she got hers) on my way home from the Y and got these.  They're men's shoes because the women's didn't fit right and these were 25% off and I liked the color better.  I'm going to pull out the shoestrings and see if I can't find some elastic laces so I don't have to tie them every time I put them on.  (lazy much?)


Lala called this morning and we talked about what we'll pack, how we'll manage food without spending a fortune in restaurants, and needing water shoes.  In five weeks we'll be in Wyoming where the buffalo (really they're bison) roam.  This is going to be fun.  I dug out my star maps and binoculars and have started thinking about what clothes to pack.  Practice packing, that was Mother Malcolm's mantra.  She said that two weeks before you leave you pack what you think you'll need, close the suitcase, and put it away.  One week before leaving you open the suitcase, take out half, close it up, and put it away.  The night before you go, you open the case one more time, take out half again, you still have too much but now you're ready to go.  As much as I hate to say it, she was right.  I always took too many clothes but once in Bonaire I realized that I was putting on the same shorts and tank top that I'd gotten off the plane in to wear to the grocery because I spent almost all day every day in a swimsuit and sarong.  After that, I'd pack my dive gear and whatever clothes fit around it got to go.  Take half as many clothes and twice as much money.  Right?  Besides I'm sure we can impose on my Cousin Mike who lives in Mammoth Hot Springs to let us run a load of laundry after we've been there a week or there has to be a laundromat around.

22 July--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon. 

            Once I got all my flowerbeds redone I took a break and drove to visit Matt, Lisa and their boys in Pleasant Prairie for a week.  It was a busy time of the year for Matt; he opened early and stayed late, trying to keep up with the work.  According to Lisa, every construction company in the region had "broken their toys and dumped them on my husband."

I had great fun going along to the boys' spring events.  Jim's Cub Scout troop held their Pinewood Derby while I was there, and we cheered his blocky British Racing Green car all the way to the championship.  He and Matt couldn’t stop trading high-fives until I pointed out that they weren’t being very good sports.  They stopped but then started up at home until Lisa insisted it was time for all the boys to go to bed.

The twins went on a field trip with their Tiger Cub group to a farm and came home totally bedraggled.  "Luke fell in the creek!" Mike yelled as they tumbled out of their leader Fred’s minivan.  It was bad.  Not only had the poor man driven twenty miles in the enclosed vehicle with six rowdy boys but the smell coming from Luke was unbelievable.  Lisa and I cracked up when we saw that Fred had wrapped Luke in a garbage bag, like a last minute Halloween costume, to preserve his wife's upholstery and contain the stench.  For myself, I was glad we were in Lisa's pickup truck and could plant our stinky boy in the back for the short drive home.  It took two showers and a bath to get the smell of horse and swamp out of his hair.  Lisa wadded his clothes into the garbage bag and threw them away.

I didn't have a minute of peace to paint the whole week I was there.  By the time Lisa and I had gotten the boys bathed and into bed each night, Matt was just getting home.  We'd open a bottle of wine and keep him company while he ate.  We managed to go out to dinner, just the adults, the night before I left.  I insisted on paying for dinner, and for the babysitter, despite Matt's protests that he could support his family just fine.

"I know you can; I raised you, remember?  But I don't visit often and I want to do this."

The waiter's head bobbed like he was watching a tennis match as we argued over who paid the bill.  I won, of course.  I was glad to visit them--and glad to go home.

When I left Fleet Farm with my water shoes and bag of birdseed the brilliant orange sun disc was just sinking into the trees under the highway overpass.  By the time I got to the car where my phone was it was halfway behind the trees but I still think this is a fun photo of the sunset.  Time to hit the sack.  I can't figure out why I'm tired.  Right.  Hasta la vista, babies.
--Barbara