Leveled Up

Since THE RAT doesn't seem interested in taking a swim in the 5 gallon pail, this morning I baited the traps with Warfarin-stuffed weenies spread with a little peanut butter that I twist-tied to the piece of metal where the bait goes.  Right after I put the traps out it started to pour rain so the raindrops sprung the trap that I'd put out by the birdseed that the sparrows fling on the ground.  The other trap I put out of the rain on the patio.  I was away all day and when I got home the second trap was gone.  Did it catch something that ran away with it?  Since it was nearly dark and nearly time to go to Friday Knitting I decided that I'd look for it tomorrow.  Ugh.

Where did I go today?  Well, I drove a couple hours south to meet writing friends for lunch, a picnic lunch.  One of the writers found this park shelter that we could rent for the day that has real bathrooms and a fireplace.  LMC brought some firewood, I had a lighter, JB (not JRB, just JB) collected kindling, and MH lit the fire.  It was a group effort.  It was also lovely to sit in the warmth of the fire on a cool, rainy afternoon with a group of women friends, talking and laughing.  It was far to drive for lunch and I was pretty darned tired on the way home but it was worth it.



I finished knitting the Two Hour Bag at Friday Knitting and will felt it when I have something else to felt.  I'm thinking that I'll use the rest of the same yarn to make another bag just like this one but this time start at the top and just knit until I run out because, of course, I used about 2 yards of the third skein of four.  *sigh*

Once the bag was sewn together, I cast on and knitted on a watch cap using more of the yarn I culled from the stash for the Guild swap/sale/giveaway.  One skein of the brown will be just about what it needs for the 4" of ribbing so the hat and crown will be the kiwi green and other skein of brown.  I like these colors together, don't you?




27 September--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon.

             I got home from going to a city band concert with Abel one evening and noticed that it was chilly in the house.  I tootsed up the thermostat, the furnace clicked on, but nothing happened.  I had gotten a new furnace a couple years earlier and knew it didn’t have a pilot light so my only recourse was to call a repairman.  Naturally, it was after-hours so the charge was $125 just to get the guy to start his truck.

He came and, after putting little blue shoe protectors on, clomped into the basement.  He called me back almost immediately and I was thrilled that he’d found the problem so quickly, but when I arrived he launched into a ten-minute lecture on regular filter changing.

I interrupted to ask, “Is that the problem?”

“No.”

“Then change the filter and keep working.”

Twenty minutes later he came upstairs.  “I can’t find anything wrong down there; everything tests out perfect.  I have to check the pipes outside.”

He barely had time to get to the side of the house where the intake and exhaust pipes poke through the wall, when he was back at the door.  “Come out here, ma’am.  You’re never going to believe this.”

I followed him around the corner and couldn’t believe what he pointed at.  A rhubarb leaf, a giant rhubarb leaf, had grown up and gotten sucked over the end of the pipe, blocking any air from getting in.

            He graciously let me pick it myself and suggested I transplant the rhubarb to a spot where it wouldn’t cause more trouble.  I stood there looking at that $165 rhubarb stalk thinking, you’re going to make one expensive pie.

The next morning found me out in the yard digging up what turned out to be three rhubarb plants and moving them to a spot far away from the furnace pipes where they couldn’t get into any more trouble.  I made a couple of pies and froze the rest.  I took one of the pies over to share with Clara and Hank.  I thought Hank would split a gut laughing when I told him the story.  Clara ran right outside and checked that none of her plants were in a position to suffocate their furnace.

Abel thought it was pretty funny too.  He threatened to write it up and post it in the garden center over the rhubarb plants as a warning to future rhubarb owners.  "If you do I'll never speak to you again," I said.  He sobered right up. Then I planted spearmint where the rhubarb had been.  When Abel asked me why, I told him, “I don’t want a blank spot in my garden.  Spearmint leaves are too small to get sucked into the intake, and if they do get in there, maybe they’ll make my house smell nice.”  He just shook his head.

Don't ask why I'm still awake this late, I do not know.  What I do know is that aside from going to the Library book sale in the morning and looking for the rat trap I'm taking tomorrow OFF.
--Barbara