Beverly Is Loaded

I loaded her last night before bed.  All my crafting & writing stuff, my clothes, 3 kites, too many coats (going for the layered look), and a giant paper cutter are all resting comfortably in Beverly's back end.  *hee*  The 2011 tax receipts, etc. are in the front ready to be dropped at the attorney's on my way out of town.  I have a 9 AM chiro appointment, I'll drop off TW's birthday card with his share of the last disbursment from Mom's estate, I'll swing by the lawyer's offices, and then--ZOOM!--I take the on-ramp for the interstate south, swoop into Manitowoc to pick up some shoes that the Rogan's there has that my local didn't, and I should be in my cozy little digs (okay, it's motel room) on the riverwalk in Sheboygan before lunch.  Hip-hip-hooray.  While I'm in Sheboygan I'll drop of AJ's birthday card and his share of the estate.  (yep, they're twins, but not identical, nope, not identical at all)  Today I'll mail off the check to the monument company that my SIL2 works for so they can put Mom's death date on Dad's headstone and then we're done.  Done and done.  *dusts off hands*  I've got the carrot cake layers baked, cooled, bagged, and fridged so that I can frost them into bunny shape on Sunday morning.  Durwood's making his yummy hot gruyere cheese dip.  Ooh, I have to remind him to thaw out the last loaf of Semolina bread to use for spreading the cheese dip on.  I'm enjoying poeming.  The NaPoWriMo site has a daily prompt suggestion and yesterday's was to write the 12-bar blues.  I remembered the art photo for the day so I could mull over my writing for the night all day.  Good thing, I had the first stanza scribbled down before I left work!  A couple more came during my normal writing time but there's one more niggling at me.  I'll think about that on the drive today.  And now, without further ado...

April 4--Nicola da Urbino, The Story of King Midas.

Majolica Blues

Blue and green plates broken on the floor,
Two blue and green plates smashed on the floor,
Don't have "service for 12" no more.

Midas touched things, turned them gold,
King Midas touched things, turned them gold,
Hugged his daughter, she'll never grow old.
 
Blue and green plates broken on the floor,
Two blue and green plates smashed on the floor,
Don't have "service for 12" no more.

Pot-bellied cherubs hold his crest,
Two pot-bellied cherubs hold his crest,
A ribbon 'round their nads is how they're dressed. 


Blue and green plates broken on the floor,
Two blue and green plates smashed on the floor,
Don't have "service for 12" no more.

(here's where the next stanza I can't quite get yet goes)

 Blue and green plates broken on the floor,
Two blue and green plates smashed on the floor,
Don't have "service for 12" no more.
~~~~~~

Tumultuous applause.  Or there would be if I could channel Robert Johnson or Blind Lemon Jefferson.  Okay, I've got one hour to eat, shower, throw my poetry books into Beverly's back end *tee hee*, and get to the chiro.  I can write birthday cards, at least TW's, there.  See ya.  Oh, don't pout, I'll still post every day, they have the Internet in Sheboygan.  Buncha babies.
--Barbara

More

I guess I am getting back into the poetry groove.  There were a few words, an image, scratching at me on the way to work, so I got a scrap of paper & a pencil from the convenient compartment in Beverly's dashboard and got the words down at a stoplight or two.  (I'm not foolish enough to risk Beverly's health by trying to write while driving.)  I wish I had a photo of the inspiration.

Just one pelican from last spring

Spring Scribbles

A tangle of white pelicans

doodling

in the Spring sky.

~~~~~

bam

Splurge

I got me a new toy last night at Walmart.  It's a Nikon Coolpix camera.  It's red (not on purpose, it just came that way, but isn't that lucky?)  For a while now I've been feeling bad when I run off with the camera leaving Durwood with none in case he needs to take a bird picture or two, so I deputized a couple hundred bucks of my inheritance and bought me one.  I'm not thrilled that it doesn't use regular batteries but I can buy an extra one and a remote charger, I'm sure, so I'm never without.  Besides I'll be gone for 3 nights beginning tomorrow and I know that the maple tree is going to pop its buds while I'm gone so I'm going to ask him to take its picture every day so when I get home I can knit it true.  I can see the tiny little twig-tip buds swelling, just waiting until I leave town to burst open.  I also bought the ingredients to make carrot Bunny Cakes on Sunday morning to take to Family Dinner at Jefe & HZ's.  I'll bake the cakes tonight after work and then frost them on Sunday when I get home (from Sheboygan!  I drive away tomorrow morning and I can't wait!).  I bought a box of Twinkies to use for the paws and tail; I'm excited.  (Oh, I have to remember to see if there's any pink construction paper at work for ears.)  I'm enjoying Poetry Month so far, I think.  At least I'm doing it without too much pain or angst.  Speaking of...


April 3--Central Asia, Mongolia or Siberia, Belt Buckle with Paired Felines Attacking Ibexes.

Spring Real Estate

What about here?  Do you
like it?  What do you
think?

His eyes are wide.
He looks a tad
too eager.

It's okay.
I was hoping for 
a river view.

She's casual,
non-committal
in the face of his barrage.

How about by this
creek?  It's a nice area,
quiet.

I'd like to be closer to
Mom.
He steers her away,
not wanting the in-law interference.
 
All over town I see them,
young couples setting up
housekeeping.

Mallards flown north
to nest
and raise a family.
~~~~~

I had to go off-prompt.  All week I've seen mallard couples in front yards and on public land checking out possible nesting sites.  I love how eager the males are and how very disinterested the females are, looking around as if they're bored or in the market for better.  Ah, Spring.  It's sunny today, let's bask.  I want to scoop up handfuls of sunshine and rub it all over me.  Toodle-oo.
--Barbara

The Tuesday We Become Humans Again

Today the new renter moves in.  Yesterday she came with her checkbook to walk through 1508, marking flaws on the sheet we have for that, signed and initialed page after page, then handed over 6 months rent + security.  Six months, people!  Six!  Plus another one for Security Deposit.  Yah-freakin'-hoo!  I do believe that between March 13 and today was the longest 3 weeks of our lives; they were certainly some of the most expensive.  The new, not-avocado, all-burners-working stove arrived yesterday in all its white glory (did you know they don't come with broiler pans anymore?  cheapskates.) and the old (vintage 1978) one was hauled away.  After I got home from work I scrubbed the "what is that?" swath of filth off the basement floor around the drain (I'm happy to report that it was just dirt) and that was that.  We ate our delicious sesame chicken with egg noodles and fresh broccoli in calm-i-tude, and shared a postprandial orange with quiet appreciation, neither of us distracted by a mental to-do list to tackle after supper.  I knitted, Durwood dozed, it was a lovely evening.  Ahh.  Today at work I'll go through all the bills, receipts, and bank statements in the Mom file, making a list of expenditures and deposits, making a copy for TW and AJ, and closing out those books.  I also plan to zoom through our personal 2011 receipts and check registers so I can drop the whole tax bomb off to our tax attorney tomorrow morning.  Don't want to be ready too early, you know. (Durwood was working diligently on it when the old renters moved out, leaving us with a total mess, and he got understandably distracted.)  Next year should be a banner one for deductions.

April 2--Auguste Renoir, Madame Georges Charpentier and her Children, Georgette-Berthe and Paul-Emile Charles.

A Girl's Best Friend

Her beloved Tattou
makes a good seat
for a little girl.
Georgette presses her hand
to his furry side,
feels the life
of her living chair.
The rise and fall
of doggy breath
soothes her like a rocking chair,
a warm and comforting
support for reading
and naps.
~~~~~

That's a little better, more in the poetry groove.  By the end of the month I should be really cooking, building pictures with just the right words.  Hey, it's primary day in Wisconsin.  Make sure you go vote or you're letting those who do vote run your life.  You don't want that, do you?  Plus I always say, "if you don't vote, you can't complain," and we all know how vital complaining is to my life.  I won't talk about who I vote for and don't want to know who you vote for, I just want to make sure that you do vote.  Besides there are people, women, all over the world willing to lay down their lives for the opportunity to cast their ballot; the least we can do as Americans is exercise that right.  Use it or lose it.  Don't be complacent, it could happen.  Big kiss.
--Barbara

April Is Totally Foolish So Far

DIL1, look a tulip!

I greatly regretted frittering away the morning yesterday (not the part when I talked to DD or when I blogged or when Durwood and I made and ate breakfast together, just the goofing off surfing the web and futzing with my Kindle parts) because there was more to do next door than I thought.  Of. Course.  It looked like the cleaning lady didn't wipe down the kitchen cupboards, I even called her to see if she had and to express my dissatisfaction, so I ended up cleaning them with Mr. Clean Magic Eraser and Simple Green.  Durwood washed the sash windows.  He didn't remember how to lever them down for easy cleaning inside and out, he was pleasantly surprised when I showed him.  The new renter came and put some beds, etc. into the garage and was thrilled with the new paint and new floors.  The cleaning kept me from sewing as much as I'd hoped to but I did get the laundry done, well, except for the sheets and towels, so we'll have clean clothes to wear this week.  I learned that I reallyreallyreally need to straighten the edges of the scrap strips I want to use to make the next 2 quilt blocks.  I started the first quarter but may put that one aside and start over... or maybe not since I like the wonky ones best anyway.   Besides, wonky squares will drive my BFF Skully freakin' nuts.  What's not to love about that?

April 2--Damien Hurst for Manolo Blahnik, Dot Boot.

Seize the Shoes

Loafers & Clogs
Pumps & Flats
infinite and finite
in their style

Boots & Sandals
Sneakers, Trainers & Crocs
leather or plastic
sewn or molded

Stilettos for conquest
Brogues for a walk
(never buy used shoes
you buy someone's bunions)

Slippers--
ballet or bedroom
snug or sloppy
A sole for every foot

To cradle, protect, or display
that convenient pair
of transports
cantilevered off your shins.
~~~~~~

Well, there's the first dreadful but interesting poem of April, the Poetry Month.  It's going to take me a few nights to shift my brain to choosing more vivid words but I'll get there.  Are you poeming along?  You should, it's good exercise.  Have a... day.
--Barbara

The Wrap Up--We Hope

Durwood and I spent the middle of the day wrapping up what needed to be done in the rental before the new tenant moves in... Tuesday?  I don't know, I'm letting Durwood handle it.  I will be helping to spend the rent money though. I'm nice that way.

I tried to zoom through making the first of the March Block of the Month quilt blocks.  That didn't work well.  I spent an inordinate amount of time ironing a pound of fabric strips/scraps.  I should have sorted them by color and also evened up the edges before I started sewing them onto my blocks.  I'm not going to spend one minute chastising myself over being so behind, I'll get to them when I get to them.  April is going to be a busy month so I'm going to give myself a break.  A change for me, that whole giving a break thing.
 

I cast on the next Color Strip Vessel.  I really like the green against the gray.  I might have to put them together again.

 

Last week was a banner week in the Maple Tree Scarf world.  Early in the week a robin was sitting in the tree when I checked to see its condition and on Friday it was covered with drops of rain or fog.  I mused aloud about figuring out a way to represent the drops on the scarf when Durwood and I were driving home from Menards.  He said, "Beads?"  It took me a few days of thought and some false starts until I finally looked it up online and found an article on Knitty telling how to add each bead as you come to it.  It worked.  I scattered a few on both rows of Friday's knitting.  They're subtle but I like that they're there.



I finished another duvet.  This one's made from a sarong or pareo I bought at World Market a while back that I thought would make a lovely lap blankie.

A Brand New Day!

I was tempted to write that I'm pregnant (April Fools!) but I realized that you're all too old to shock like that.  *snort*  I don't want to be responsible for people screaming or barfing.  Today there're a few last minute type things I need to do next door, a new stove arrives tomorrow (hey, I'm not the one who made that decision--I was so proud of Durwood when he said "besides it's that old green" meaning 70s avocado), the new renter comes to go over the lease point by point tomorrow too and she'll hand over 6 mos. of rent (!!!!), then she moves in  on Tuesday.  Whew, that'll be a big relief.  Now if she turns out to be the kind of tenant we think she'll be...  I can't wait until next weekend.  I so want to be away from my daily life right now.  I want to be the boss of me, not that I'm not, but I need some time, just a few days, to think only about me.  Is that selfish?  I don't mean to be, I just need a break, which will also give Durwood a break from the wonderfulness that is me.  Not that he needs one, of course.  Oh, btw, he got a good report from the lung doc the other day.  He's got a couple new things to try to make it easier to breathe, and they seem to be working.  I want them to tell us exactly how to keep him breathing and annoying me for a very long time. Remember he promised to take me to see Yellowstone and he's not getting out of it that easy.

March 31--Damien Hurst for Manolo Blahnik, Dot Boot.  Jaye lay under the foyer table far enough under that no one noticed her there.  She was sure Luis their houseman knew she was there because he'd bent down and slid a plate with her favorite chicken empanadas and pear & brie tartlets on it.  His other hand delivered a frosty goblet filled with Coca-Cola, a forbidden treat.  If Marjorie (in any other house she'd have been "Mom") knew that Jaye was drinking a Coke, and a Mexican Coke "with all that sugar" to boot, she'd have thrown a fit.  Not that anyone else would have known it.  Marjorie had the ability to be raging in anger on the inside while appearing totally serene on the outside. Only Jaye--and Luis-- saw the cold gleam of rage glint in her blue eyes.  Jaye was supposed to be on a play date with Lucinda Miller in the pool house but Lucinda wasn't interesing in doing anything but reading her book or scribbling her notebook.  Jaye had wandered away from the dead-silent pool house, sneaked into the main house by the library doors, and slid under the table to pick up the news of the newly divorced, dumped, or lifted.  The amount of time Marjorie and her taut and shiny friends spent talking about themselves gave Jaye a headache and made her promise herself that she'd find something to do with her life that didn't involve divorce lawyers or plastic surgeons.

Lookee!  Two whole notebook pages (wide ruled) without one "I feel asleep in the middle of it" scribble.  Tonight begins a month of poems.  April is Poetry Month, so I'm celebrating by writing 30 days of probably bad poetry.  And lucky you, you're going to be the victim..um.. target... no, recipient of it.  Try not to weep.  With joy, I mean, with joy.  You can poem along too.  Here are some prompts to get you started.  On your mark, get set, GO!
--Barbara