Thursday, May 7, 2020

Cabin Fever

I think I have it. (don't we all?)  All of my usual amusements--writing, knitting, cooking, sewing--have lost their allure.  At least I've been reading, which is better than just staring at the boob tube all day.  I was excited about figuring out what to plant except we've got frost warnings tonight and tomorrow night AND the place where I buy my plants is closed, like just about everything else.  I don't know if I'd be brave enough to go get the stuff anyway, since the longer I'm at home the scarier the big, wide world seems.  I gotta stop watching the news.


Today I toured the yard looking for blooming things and sprouting things.  I think I lead the neighborhood in dandelions.  My front yard is pretty full of them.  I don't want to spray them because they're about all that's available for bees right now.  I'll get out the mower pretty soon and mow 'em down.




The birds have been diligent about "planting" violets too.  I love the little white and purple flowers that pop up in spring.  I don't want to spray those either.





I've still got only the one pink tulip.  There are a couple more buds next to it but so far they're not open.  Maybe they're waiting to take turns so each one gets to shine all on its own.  As if tulips think about such things.




Dad's rose is starting to sprout this season's new canes.  There are sprouts on the old canes too.  I sure hope the cold over the next few days doesn't freeze it.  Maybe I'll cover it.







07 May--Barbara Malcolm, Tropical Obsession. 
By the day he pulled into Playa his stores were down to a can of Spam and two cans of peas plus a leaking bag of pinto beans, and he was running on fumes. The Tina Marie rode low in the water again because his hasty repairs had begun to seep before he was out of sight of Antigua and things had only gotten worse on the long passage.
A storm when he was just off St Vincent had sent him scurrying for port and he had had to lay at anchor for days, pumping out the ever-increasing water, and waiting out the lashing rain and wind. Once the storm finally abated, he headed back out and turned the bow of the Tina Marie south and west. He was headed for Bonaire to meet up with a rich Dutch girl he had spent a few nights within Antigua. Her name had been Ilsa or Elsa, something like that, and he planned to be at his charming best and see if he couldn’t appropriate a bit of her inheritance for himself.  At the very least he would live in improved style until he got tired of her or her family got wise.
So it was that he motored into Playa one fine November day, tied up to the dock, and stepped ashore into the sweetest deal of his life. Right next to where he had tied the Tina Marie was a sign that they were looking for water taxi drivers. Manning stopped and talked to the guy dozing in the boat which for some reason was painted with cow spots and found out there was nothing to the job. The company offered rides out to the little uninhabited island about a half mile offshore every hour and there was a sand beach to run up on to drop off and pick up passengers. It was literally a taxi, no need to cozy up to old ladies or learn endless spiels of boring island history. He told the guy, who introduced himself as Oxford, that he would be interested, all he had to do was find a dry place to sleep. Oxford looked over Tina Marie, said his cousin at the boat yard might be willing to rent him a room over the workshop in return for parting out the boat.

That's it.  It's a real struggle to find things to write about every day when I don't go anywhere or do much of anything.  Sorry about being boring.
--Barbara

1 comment:

Aunt B said...

I hope you covered Hank's rose bush. We want to see roses added to the daily photo journal of your yard. The world does seem scary, doesn't it? Just going to the grocery store makes me anxious. At least we're transported to the Islands and get to meet new friends as long as you keep writing. You're definitely an essential worker in my book!!