Didn't Sew Today Either

I just didn't get around to it.  I knitted a little but not enough to make much of a change in the cast sock.  So I didn't take any pictures of anything.  No birds.  No sky.  No pretty leaves.  No sunset.  Nothing.  That doesn't mean that I sat around all day (only most of it, I had a surprise nap around 10 o'clock this morning), I did stuff, I just didn't take pictures of it.

I cleaned the birdbath and installed the heater so it doesn't freeze solid until the next Polar Vortex arrives.




I put the patio chairs into the shed and drained the umbrella stand and put it into the shed too.


I went to the grocery for a prescription and a rotisserie chicken.  I deboned the chicken and made broth with the bones.


I did my 15 minutes of writing and finished another scene.  Writing for 15 minutes most days is inching me toward being finished with the manuscript.  Some days I don't think it'll ever happen.  Soon I'll have to read the whole thing looking for holes in the story.


And after supper I went across town to the movies to see Downton Abbey.  It was swell.  I liked it a lot.  There was a whopping four people in the theater due, I'm certain, to the fact that there was a football game on TV then.  I was rather surprised not to be alone.

27 October--Barbara Malcolm, Spies Don't Retire. 

As he slid the key into the lock in the early morning light, he thought, this will put an end to my skulking days, once and for all.  The drive up the island toward Rincon in the early morning was a pleasure.  He waved at passing vehicles and children walking along the road on the way to school.  He savored the glimpses of the wild windward shore where waves born in Africa pounded themselves to death on the razor sharp ironshore cliffs.  In less than fifteen minutes the orange tiled roofs of Rincon swung into view between two craggy hills.  He steered the cumbersome Range Rover down the narrow deserted main street and turned into the Rose Inn’s parking lot.  He parked in the sun so Dimitri would be sure to see the Rover  and be dazzled by its grandness.  A small conceit, he said to himself.

Seeing no other vehicle in the lot, he suspected that either Dimitri hadn’t arrived yet or had parked his car elsewhere and come in on foot to surveill the meeting spot.  Basic spycraft.  Never one to allow himself to assume the coast was clear, George stepped around the Rover and slipped between the Rose Inn and the building next door.  The ground in the narrow gap showed signs of being a neighborhood short cut, a path worn where no grass grew littered with discarded cigarette butts and take-away cups.  Standing shielded in the shadow he looked up and down the street that fronted the Inn, watching an old man shamble into the convenience mart across the street and a herd of goats straggle toward him on the unkempt verge.  Confident that he didn’t detect a trap, he emerged and slipped quietly into the street entrance of the Rose Inn.

Standing in the lobby to give his eyes time to adjust to the change from bright sunlight to the shadowy coolness, he surprised an old woman coming from behind a dusty counter.  She glared at him as if she’d caught him at some mischief.  “I’m meeting a friend for breakfast,” he said. 

She nodded and flapped a hand the color and texture of ancient leather toward a hall that divided the building down the center.  “Down there,” was all she said.

He moved quietly down the dark hall and emerged into the restaurant, a room no bigger than twenty by twenty feet with eight or ten mismatched tables and chairs.  A swinging door on the right wall obviously led to the kitchen since he could hear voices and the clatter of crockery.  He checked his watch to see that Dimitri was five minutes late.  “Clever.  At least he hasn’t forgotten everything.”

So that's my day.  It was sunny all day and even got into the 50s which is why I went outside to work on getting things put away for winter and risked turning on the hose to swamp out the birdbath.  Tomorrow I get my oil changed and then meet a friend for coffee.  I have such an exciting life.  Yawn.  Today we have pictures of my two favorite places: The Clearing and Yellowstone. I couldn't bear to leave the blog with only words and no pix.
--Barbara