Sunshine Day

Even though the temperature hovered around 9 degrees (above zero, so yay!) today was a great day because it was sunny all day.  I had my trainer session, came home, showered, had lunch, and promptly fell asleep at the table.  I've gotten into the habit of taking a nap since my cold/bronchitis adventure but today's nap crept up on me and took me by surprise.  Hands on the kitchen table don't make a very good pillow.



This afternoon I went over to the brewery to drop off some shop towels I had downstairs leftover from Mom's days of getting paper products.  These are heavy cleaning towels that I thought might be good for cleaning the bar top or something.  The brewing machinery guys were working to get it all set up and they started the final cleanup for the health inspection.  So much is going on there, it's like a hive.




At knitting guild tonight there were stacks of squares to be sewn or crocheted together and I glommed onto this early 1970s flashback of a blanket.  Yellow, orange, brown, and avocado green were the colors of my bedroom then so it really spoke to the old me.  The only remainder of those days is the avocado green clothes dryer that survives from our post-wedding 1976 appliance shopping trip.  It's still going strong.  I figure that I can finish joining these blocks tomorrow night at knitting.

 

 DS and DIL1 asked if I could sew covers for some cushions for kids' benches so I got some fabric with their colors but it isn't the sort of print they were looking for.  I don't mind.  I kind of suspected that this was my taste, not theirs, so if she finds some mid-century modern print in the future I'll sew the covers.  In the meantime I think I'll make a summer dress no. 1 out of this.  It won't go to waste.




16 January--Barbara Malcolm, Spies Don't Retire. 

The men eyed the group standing silent staring back at them.  Wives, girlfriends, other expats stood there looking tired.  Some were jubilant, others angry but all of them looked like they had barely slept.  A few of the men waved at their wives and got a small wave back but it was obvious that there would be hell to pay when they got home.  Each man gathered up his bag of gear then touched his hat before lining up to step onto dry land.  Wives stepped forward to corral husbands, small hugs were exchanged.  Dimitri got off second to last, right in front of George, and their wives came forward to embrace them.  The men stood with their backs to each other so that the women faced each other.  They hissed like old cats and George had enough.

“Stop,” he said, “just stop.” Everyone on the dock stopped moving.  He looked at Sonia. “Dimitri and I are friends, have been for months.” Sonia’s eyes widened and he heard Irina’s indrawn breath. “Yes, m’dear, friends.” He wrapped an arm around her and pressed his lips to her temple. “Dimitri is the only one, besides you, who understands what my life has been like. Neither of us had work mates, we’ve been alone all these years and it’s time to retire.”

Dimitri stirred behind him. “Da, Irina, stop. George and I agreed to finish this last job, tell the truth, that we are both too old and too tired to keep on, and settle down to be friends.”

“But, Dimi,” Irina said, “what will happen to your pension?”

George turned to her and said, “We talked about that.  We’ll write our reports with enough information to satisfy our handlers but nothing that will lead to further letters from headquarters.  We both need to be freed of this.” 

Irina nodded, looked at Dimitri with tears in her eyes. “You agreed to this? You think it will work?”

He put his arms around her. “It will work.  Haven’t I always taken care of you?” 

Each man picked up his gear and steered his wife toward their cars. The rest of the group exhaled a breath none of them realized they had been holding and started for their own cars. 

Now they're saying that we're going to get 6" of snow on Saturday.  Yippee.  I hope they're wrong--again.
--Barbara