This is the first Saturday of July and Durwood's off having breakfast with his Census 2000 pals and I'm all alone in the house. ALONE. I even turned off his oxygen machine so the only sound I hear (beside the constant buzzing in my ears) is the rhythmic tick of the antique clock in the living room. Soon it's low "bong" will echo through the house and it'll be officially 11:00 o'clock.
Man, three hours of knitting last night did nothing good for my sore shoulder. In fact, it feels sorer now than it did when I went to the chiropractor last week. I'm sure Dr. Paula would tell me that it gets worse before it gets better but I don't have to like it--and I don't. I highly recommend that you avoid falling on a concrete floor while holding 40# of Kingsford charcoal if at all possible.
Yesterday when I picked up Porter for our walk there was an enormous pile of dirt blocking their driveway and 2 guys with Bobcats were moving it as fast as they could. DS & DIL1's neighbor, Butch, had put orange cones around the pile and was standing in the shade across the street directing traffic. When we got back about an hour later the pile was considerably smaller but while I watched 2 more dump trucks drove up and dumped their loads. More dirt! The Bobcats kept up their frantic pace moving all that dirt into the backyard to regrade it so it's less like a swamp in the spring and when it rains and also flatter. Just for the record, Porter did NOT like the loud big-boy toys at all. I'd have loved to drive one of those cool little Bobcats. They look like such fun.
Durwood's brother, BIL1, had his hip replaced last Wednesday. All went well and he got home late on Thursday. He called yesterday to thank us for the get well card and to say that he's feeling great. He said that everything's fine but when he got home from the hospital and was moving around something didn't feel right downthere. He did some checking and discovered that when the doctor used superglue to close the incision he'd also glued BIL1's scrotum to his thigh. (pause while you fall down laughing... ... ... ... ...) I asked if he'd gotten SIL2 to help him out and he said no, he just peeled it apart and snipped some hairs. Ouch. Sounds like a painful process to me. Glad you're all right and on the mend, BIL1.
July 6--Stickley Brothers, Desk. Grace had known that her mother kept a lot of useless things but it wasn't until she started emptying out the Stickley desk in Mama's sitting room that the full impact hit her. She had lowered the desk panel to find that every niche and pigeonhole was full of paper, little rubber banded packets of papers. The great majority of it looked to be cash register receipts. Why had she kept them all?
Well, I couldn't answer the question and was too sleepy to keep writing so I packed it in for the night. Time to shower in my solitary splendor. Dudes.
--Barbara
We didn't sparkler after all. I forgot. We didn't go watch the fireworks downtown and didn't even watch A Capitol Fourth on PBS. Like I said, we're duds. Durwood napped a lot yesterday after a restless night. I made some Weight Watchers bean dip (that I forgot to eat any of), Weight Watchers coleslaw (Durwood added dressing but I loved it and only 1 point per 3/4 cup!), and Weight Watchers spiced honey almonds (honey and red pepper flakes, delish, and 10 nuts = 3 points). I fired up the grill (charcoal, the REAL way to grill) and made a bunch of brats after Durwood had precooked them in beer and onions. He doctored a big can of B&M baked beans that were pretty darned good (though not as good as the ones he makes from scratch in the crockpot), and we feasted. I got some pita pockets (on sale at Woodman's) to tuck my brat into and some bolillo rolls for his. Perfecto.
This morning I'm off to pick up Porter to walk, drop off a tank at Van's, and some library books. (god, I love library books and library download books. I checked out two novels onto my Kindle Fire yesterday, zip boom bang, and could read them immediately, and they just disappear with the loan period's over. LOVE it.) Then I think I'm going to stop at JoAnn to find some big snaps and cute buttons to finish the Bean's Kimono. After that I think I'll do a little online pattern research and cast on a project for our GRANDBABY arriving in early January. That's right, DS & DIL1 decided that since they've kept the grand-chickens and grand-dog alive and well for so long they'd see how they'd do with a baby human. They've decided that they don't want to know the sex of the baby before its birthday. We're good with that and all so excited.
I might do the laundry too; it's piling up. ("look, a duck" ADD much?)
June 5--Dominick LaValle, Shoe. "And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air..." Willie wondered if any other national anthem celebrated war. She liked the song, especially when she was in a big crowd with a band playing and everyone singing. She lay in bed on that July 4th night listening to fireworks pop near and far. It was too late to go downtown to watch the city fireworks. She had no one to go with anyway so it wouldn't be much fun. She'd grilled her brat on the patio and made coleslaw. It didn't make sense for her to buy a whole watermelon so she ate an orange, a juicy one, for dessert. Through most of the afternoon she'd thought that she was the only one home in the neighborhood because it was so quiet. Now that it was late, eleven o'clock by her digital alarm, she heard a few couples talking softly and she smelled a campfire. She was tempted to get dressed and go out to join them. Would she be welcome?
I might have been feeling a little bit sorry for myself at bedtime last night. Ya think? I enjoyed our day. Oh, I wish we'd been at a party or downtown with the crowds and music and food and fireworks but I did what I wanted and enjoyed what I did. I need to give myself a break and stop being swayed by what my inner 9-yr-old thinks I should do. Begone, devil child! Okay then, that's it for me today. I'm outta here.
--Barbara
We didn't plant corn but we have corn planted courtesy of the neighborhood squirrels. It's nowhere near knee-high but then it isn't enough to pollinate itself or bear fruit, uh, ears so that's okay. There's a lot more of it that crops up in the lawn but it gets mowed down quickly, or not so quickly in the case of our renter.
Ya know, I'd like a renter that takes care of 1508 like it deserves. I know that renters aren't owners but don't people have any self-respect? I get embarrassed when I'm too busy and the lawn gets long or when I need a guide dog to get through the house. Everyone in the neighborhood's real good about keeping their yards nice and neat, we mow before the grass sets seed, we rake up autumn leaves before the snow flies and before the leaf picker uppers have made their last pass, and we keep our driveways as snow-free as we can. It's not hard work, it just takes some attention. Why is this so hard?
Ahem, sorry for the rant but I was next door changing out the exterior doorknobs and the place is a shambles, plus she's buying a house so it needs to be presentable so I can find another renter and soon. I tell you if it was up to me a For Sale sign would be in the front yard in a heartbeat. I'm tired of landlady-ing, snow shoveling, and lawn mowing, but mostly landlady-ing.
When I went out to fill the feeders and take some pictures I startled a teenaged bunny. It's so cute--and so scared. But look, a lot of the lilies are blooming. Lipstick lilies surrounded by milkweed, which is also blooming. Day lilies by the air conditioner. Asiatic lilies on the retaining wall. One lonely stargazer lily in the front. In the perennial garden the spiderwort and shrub roses are going gangbusters. I love this time of the year when things are growing and blooming all over.
July 4--Portugal, Joao Vieira da Silva, Mandolin. Nan liked to watch Uncle Theo's fingers blur on the strings of the old mandolin. The music started slowly but then the notes came faster and faster until his fingers were a pink-brown smear. The lights glinted off the mother-of-pearl inlays around the sound hole and the tortoiseshell pick guard made red sparks shine. When Grandpa, Papa, and the uncles got together the music would soar as the drink levels in their glasses got lower. By midnight all of the other kids and most of the women would be asleep but she'd still be tucked in a corner while the men played and sang.
Now it's time for me to make coleslaw. I got sparklers at the store, tee-hee. I can't wait until dark. Happy 4th of July!
--Barbara
The weather the last few days has been absolutely gorgeous. The humidity dropped, the sun shone, the breeze was cooling and light. I'm afraid all that is changing today, but I'm glad that I spent an hour or so sitting in the shade on the patio reading a book yesterday. I don't know why I don't spend more hours like that. It's not as if I'm frittering time away, I still got all my chores done, still mowed the lawn, still helped with supper, I just took a little time in the afternoon and was quiet. No earbuds, no Kindle Fire murmuring a story by my side, not even any knitting, just a library paperback mystery, the birds and the summer sounds. Ahhh.
Porter was much more cooperative on yesterday's walk, she only balked twice, but we heeled all of the way, except in the park area where she gets lots of leash so she can, um, make her ablutions, and I think maybe having something to focus on kept her on task. She's a big scaredy-cat when it comes to bicycles and loud truck or boat noises, although sometimes she's a scaredy-cat for no reason I can discern. We're working on it.
After my patio hour (and after Durwood's nap) I mowed the lawn (adding a mile to my 2 miles from the morning, Go, ME!) and then I called the chiropractor and went in to have her look at my shoulder. It's pretty sore from last Friday's fall and although I'm most apt to semi-ignore injuries and just play through, this time it's been affecting my sleep so I went to see Dr. Paula. I thought maybe I just had arthritis in my shoulder because it was a bit touchy lately but she said it was definitely out of whack so I got a treatment and will have another after work today, then probably a couple more next week. Hopefully that'll be enough. She said it was good that I'm sturdy (not sure how I feel about that) but that I'm lucky to have good muscle tone because that saved me from getting a REAL injury. Whew for muscle tone.
I fired up the sprinkler when I got home from the chiro and watered the garden. See how nice it's growing? It's a little behind because we didn't plant until early June (darned cold spring) but I'm staying ahead of the weeds and everything looks happy.
We made haddock with warm olive salsa (and lime wedges to squeeze on), fresh broccoli, and rice for supper and while I cooked (Durwood felt draggy yesterday) we opened the house and let in the fresh air. Yes, fresh air. Indoors. The weather's been so awful, hot and humid, and the allergens have been having a real party so we've kept the place buttoned up so Durwood's more comfortable (and can reliably breathe) but I think even he got tired of the manufactured air in here and flung open the doors and windows while I cooked. We even slept with the windows open, including the one right over our heads. Decadent.
July 3--Fairfield Porter, Lizzie at the Table. It had taken Edie the better part of an hour to pick and arrange that bouquet so that all the bright colors shone and look how he'd painted it. He used muddy greens and browns, that awful yellow ocher, and just a swipe of coral. He'd painted in a jar of mustard too. There wasn't a jar of mustard on her table. She would never allow mustard to be served out of the jar. How gauche. What book was that? It looked like some Catholic tome, maybe by that Bishop Sheen. Edie never liked listening to his program. He had such strong opinions for a religious man and wasn't afraid to speak up. Maybe having that level of faith made a person brave. She wondered if she'd paid too much for the painting. It was so jumbled up, cluttered with things on the table, at least Lizzie was right there in her pink dress looking cute. She hoped Marshall approved.
I enjoyed writing that. I don't always, you know. Sometimes it's like pulling teeth to get a few words strung together but last night it just flowed. I see that there's not real "action" in it but I still like it. Hey, I'm off to read the paper and find me some breakfast. I do believe I've got fresh blueberries to put on my granola and yogurt today. Yum, blueberries. Are you on vacation? Taking a few days for the 4th? Having the gang or the fam over to grill out? We're sticking here making a cookout just for 2. Brats and homemade slaw and a can of beans, maybe with a box of sparklers after dark, it'll be nice. Toodles.
--Barbara
Eleven!!! One was waiting for me when I pulled in and the other 10 just kept a-coming--a couple from Texas dropped off tanks for fills, a man from Wyoming came in to kill time, a whole slew of rental tanks were returned to be filled (and then emptied because I forgot that Mrs. Boss wanted to do their annual inspections "as long as they're mostly empty" *head, slap*), a high school kid and his mom came in for his mask, snorkel, fins & booties for his class trip to Belize, and on and on. I heated up my bowl of soup at 1 PM and finished my fruit salad just before 3 PM, not exactly my ideal 2 hour lunch. Yep, I was busy. The day flew by and I got almost all my work done. Whew.
Hey, do you review places you've gone to or stayed at on TripAdvisor? My pal, Lala, does and she touts it as a great place to do research before a jaunt. They have places to stay, places to eat, and things to do. I signed on last week and did a little remedial reviewing and it looks like a good resource for travelers, especially those of us who avoid chain motels and restaurants if we can. I think we'll be signing on as we begin to plan our October trip to the Carolinas. Three more months!
I just got an email from Aunt B that her first great-grandson has arrived. David Augustine made his appearance a little early but by all reports is healthy and gorgeous, a real keeper. Congrats to LD, the first-time grandpa too.
July 2--American, Lover's Eyes. Like a face at the keyhole she peers out at you, her green eyes glittering in the circle of gold. Once the treasure of her beloved, now the locket rests in a display case, no longer warmed by his body heat. The curator of the display where she lies visits her, talks to her as if to a confidant, his voice echoing in the long gallery.
I barely squeezed out the last sentence before I collapsed from exhaustion after my insanely busy day. Did I mention that I had eleven customers? It was really twelve, I forgot about the guy who came in for his certification card; since he didn't make a transaction he wasn't counted. *pant, pant* I'm off to walk along the river with Porter, cash my paycheck and then mail a box of thread to DD, she's sewing costumes this summer and needs thread. Mom had a crapton so I'm sharing.
--Barbara
Or maybe not as resilient. I came to realize quite suddenly yesterday that at age 61 I can't rely on my natural physical abilities. Tanks are a lot heavier, distances are longer, 50 degree water is colder, and rocks are slicker and tippier. I need to work on some things. I need to re-lose the 15# that has crept back on. I need to keep walking twice a week but add aerobic and balance games to my daily Wii activities. Balance seems to be a problem lately, witness my graceful crash in Home Depot last Friday. So, being uncomfortable in my gear yesterday which lead me to skip the second dive has me climbing back onto the eat right/workout wagon starting today. Isn't it fortunate that today's July 1? The first of a month seems like a good time to climb out of my cheating eating, slothful ways and get back to feeling strong and able. Because I did not like that my BC was very hard to buckle and that I felt out of control in the water, especially in front of a bunch of customers. That was not the way I wanted 7 of them to see me in the water for the first time. No. Time to change things. *nods confidently* In that vein I did one round of a balance game and 2, no 3, rounds of step aerobics when I was on the Wii this morning instead of just doing a body test (Wii-speak for weighing myself). Good girl, Barbara, keep going. As you can see it was a glorious day to be outside on the lake shore, sunny, warm, and breezy, just perfect. I'm so glad I went.
July 1--American, Needlework Picture. Naomi woke up thinking that it was too dark out for her alarm clock to be ringing. She coughed herself awake and realized that it was the smoke alarm in the hall blaring. She rolled out of bed onto the floor groping for her jeans, sweatshirt, and shoes. She was not going out in the street in zebra-printed pajamas. The smoke thickened as she fumbled into her clothes and she heard someone pounding on her door. Her hand was barely an inch from the doorknob when she remembered to feel the door to check if it was hot. It wasn't, so she opened it and peered into the hall. Orange light flickered in the kitchen and she heard the pounding on the front door. She dropped to her knees and crawled away from the crackling orange flames. The living room was pretty clear and she glanced around for something to save. She reached up and lifted Grandma Gemma's needlework from its nail near the front door, pulled on her boots and warmest coat, pulled open the front door, and stumbled out into the frigid night.
Okay. See? I can write setting AND action in one short paragraph. I think people save silly things in situations like that, don't you? Time to go set up the grill so that Durwood only has to light it later, eat some yogurt and granola with fruit, take a shower, and then go off to work like a good girl. It's payday! Yay! Happy Second Half of 2013!
--Barbara
This is the first Saturday of July and Durwood's off having breakfast with his Census 2000 pals and I'm all alone in the house. ALONE. I even turned off his oxygen machine so the only sound I hear (beside the constant buzzing in my ears) is the rhythmic tick of the antique clock in the living room. Soon it's low "bong" will echo through the house and it'll be officially 11:00 o'clock.
Man, three hours of knitting last night did nothing good for my sore shoulder. In fact, it feels sorer now than it did when I went to the chiropractor last week. I'm sure Dr. Paula would tell me that it gets worse before it gets better but I don't have to like it--and I don't. I highly recommend that you avoid falling on a concrete floor while holding 40# of Kingsford charcoal if at all possible.
Yesterday when I picked up Porter for our walk there was an enormous pile of dirt blocking their driveway and 2 guys with Bobcats were moving it as fast as they could. DS & DIL1's neighbor, Butch, had put orange cones around the pile and was standing in the shade across the street directing traffic. When we got back about an hour later the pile was considerably smaller but while I watched 2 more dump trucks drove up and dumped their loads. More dirt! The Bobcats kept up their frantic pace moving all that dirt into the backyard to regrade it so it's less like a swamp in the spring and when it rains and also flatter. Just for the record, Porter did NOT like the loud big-boy toys at all. I'd have loved to drive one of those cool little Bobcats. They look like such fun.
