Sorry I missed posting yesterday, things were a bit busy around here.
I knitted another preemie hat the other night. I was looking for a way to photograph it which would give you an idea of how tiny they are, also why slow-knitter-me can knit one so quickly. See? This one's stretched over LC's First Babydoll's head, and I did have to stretch it. It's teeny-tiny, and it boggles my mind to think that there are babies whose heads this hat would be way too big for. Yikes.
Remember the latest Car Knitting Warshrag? Yeah, I'd almost forgotten it too. It's #8 and it's been a very long time since I knitted on it. Haven't been caught by a coming or going freighter making the Mason St. bridge open lately so I decided to slap on a few rows last night just so it didn't get too depressed living there in the pocket of the driver's door of my car. I'm not especially thrilled with the colors, they're too close, so the next one I'll pick with my eyes closed, one ball from the solids and the other from the variegateds. That should be interesting.
The daisies are blooming and so is the bee balm in their midst. I love daisies, they're so cheerful and they bloom a long time and they spread. Plus they were my beloved Aunt B's wedding flowers. What's not to love?
I wandered over to snap a picture of the last of the Lipstick Lilies and saw this smudge of black and gold on a leaf nearby. When I looked closer I saw that it was a handful of torpid bees clinging to the leaf and waiting for the sun to heat them up for the day. Pretty cool, eh? (yeah, I said "eh" and no, I'm not Canadian)
A peach day lily almost the color of the house is blooming too. It wasn't quite open but I thought it looked kind of nice that way.
There are lots more blossoms on the spaghetti squash plant. I hope we get a lot of them. We like 'em. A lot. Sorry for the lots of "lot"s.
July 8--Carr Clifton, Colorado Plateau, AZ. Macy stood as close to the edge as she dared. She had driven out into the desert and as far up into the mountains as she could to find a vantage point to look down on the plateau. It was breathtaking, not only because of the altitude and exertion but just the beauty of nature as it lay before her took her breath away. Minute differences in the angle of the wind direction, the hardness of the rock, thousands of years of sand erosion, and water erosion when the infrequent rains came had carved a scene of such beauty it brought tears to her eyes. Far on the horizon she saw a sudden plume of smoke mixed with red sandstone dust. It wasn't until the concussion reached her that she realized that someone was blasting in the mountains, in her mountains.
I should really go to work. I don't want to, I'd rather spend the day goofing off at home but I guess I could do a bit of goofing off at work instead and get paid for goofing off. I'll work too when I have to but, well, you know how it goes some days. See ya!
--Barbara
There I was, sitting at the kitchen table yesterday minding my own business when I saw something big swoop toward me out of the corner of my eye. I said "whoa," shied back and slid down in my chair, then looked outside to see one of the Red-tailed Hawks had landed on top of the furled patio umbrella. Durwood said "what?" I motioned him to roll his chair over by me and we both stared back at those beady black predator eyes. It looked around for any tasty morsels on the patio, stayed there for about five minutes and then flew off. But, WOW, seeing it so close was very cool. Now my ears are tuned to their call so I hear it every time I'm outside. D'you think when they've gobbled up all the food in the neighborhood they'll fly off to better hunting grounds? I hope not, even though it seems like the bird population is a bit down out there but I read in the Audubon book that they eat rodents, not birds. They're welcome to all the rodents they can catch.
My rhubarb tart was a thing of beauty. Actually half of it still is, but I convinced myself that half a recipe of filling from Dad's pie recipe wasn't enough so I made a little more. It would have been enough. The thing ran over like crazy and sugary pie juice burned on the pizza pan but I was smart enough to put a piece of parchment paper on the pizza pan first so I could cut around the pie, cutting away the spilled and burnt stuff, then slide the tart onto a plate, thereby saving myself from having to throw away the pizza pan because of my inability to remove the crud. Although I did learn an "old wives" way to clean your oven or a burned pan. FW at Friday Night Knitting said that leaving a bowl of undiluted ammonia in the closed oven overnight will make it so that you can just wipe it clean the next day, and she says to do the same with a pan--put ammonia in it, seal it in a trash bag, and leave it in the bathtub overnight. FW says that baked on crud and grease can then be washed off. I've got a Dutch oven I'll be trying that on.
I realized while I was knitting on the beaded Rapid City Magic Lace scarf last night that yesterday's calculations were flawed. I don't use up 7 beads per repeat, I use up 14 beads per repeat, so I only have about 35 more rows until it's time to start binding off and dropping stitches. Hooray!
In "That's Odd" Department news, two of the three pairs of shoes that I bought off eBay in the last couple weeks came with a pair of earrings tucked inside. These aren't used shoes, they're new, unworn, in the box, toes stuffed with tissue paper shoes from private sellers. With earrings inside. I got all excited when I saw the pink ones; I thought they were stitch markers for my knitting but they're pink earrings. I'm not a pink person. I'm just glad I tipped the shoes over before putting them on. I wish the pink ones were stitch markers. But thanks for the earrings, shoe sellers. Kinda random but thanks.
July 5--Bruno Burklin, Clouds. "That one looks like a dog." Danny pointed at a cloud. "Which one?" Cece asked. "That one right... oh, nevermind, it changed. Now it looks like a rhino." "You mean a unicorn. Its horn is too long for a rhino, and now it's a beluga. See the tail?" Danny flicked an ant off his shin. "That's the problem with clouds, they're always shifting and changing." "Mm hm." Their mothers had gotten together and declared that every Wednesday all summer long was "Unplugged Day." That meant no TV, no computer, and no video games. Board games and card games were okay. They could read but only paper books, no e-readers allowed. At first it was torture but by the third week they'd kind of gotten to like being outside on their bikes exploring or making a camp down by the creek out of things they saved from the dump. They'd lost track of their "shows" but they were having too much fun to mind, most of the time.
I couldn't do that, it'd be especially hard to turn off my audiobooks. It's hot today. Mid-80s hot and there's barely a breeze. I ran to Sam's for some stuff and then to Walmart to get a watch battery changed and of course it took the lady forever until I was certain that the "1/2 the fat & no sugar" ice cream I decided to treat myself to would be soup by the time I got home but it survived and I popped it right into the freezer. Now my watch works and I've got ice cream to have on my rhubarb tart after supper. That rhubarb tart's not low-fat or low-sugar but I did leave out the salt Dad's recipe calls for. Makes me feel virtuous. I'm going to go knit.
--Barbara
So. I was out taking pictures this morning and realized that I've got red, white & blue to show you. The sole red day lily (well, the tag said it was red, it's more wine and gold, but I'm calling it red) is blooming down by the streetlight pole. In the garden the stuff that looks like Queen Anne's Lace but isn't (but I can't remember its name, do you?) is blooming white, and right next to it is the spiderwort which is purple-y blue. Right next to those two in the back garden is bee balm which has a red blossom that looks a little like fireworks but that's about a day away from full bloom so we have to be content with the reddish lily. Of course, Dad's Roses are still blooming but I figure I've shown them to you so often that you're starting to think I'm repeating pictures. I'm not, I just thought I'd give another flower a chance to shine.
The pair of Red-Tailed Hawks are back this morning too but I'm sure you're over them too. All they do is sit on the fence or in the tree, ducking the pissed off robin attacks, and calling to each other. They must be eating well here because there are noticeably fewer chipmunks, rabbits, and squirrels in the yard. I haven't seen a vole since the last stray cat wandered through. Here's a picture of the hazy sun up sky with a couple pinkish clouds instead. It's supposed to be clear but we're getting the smoke from some Canadian wildfires.
I worked on the beaded Rapid City scarf at knitting last night and I've got about 10 inches of beads left. I counted how many beads to the inch, that's 13, so I have approximately 130 beads left to knit before the "magic" happens. Well, actually you're supposed to save 7 beads for the cast off row so I have 123 left to knit. Okay, that's seven more 6-row repeats with 4 beads left over. Now that I've committed this to "print" we'll see how accurate my off-the-cuff calculations are.
July 4--Christopher Talbot Frank, Northwestern Rainforest. "Isn't there some old saying about moss only growing on one side of the trees?" Luke stood with his fists on his hips and his head thrown back to look up into the canopy. "Because these trees have moss on every side." Emma tugged his coat sleeve to get him moving. "I thought the moss saying was about rolling stones," she took a few steps down the trail, "or some other old rock band." Luke snorted. "Em, you are the only person who'd be lost in a forest and still crack wise." She kept walking. "We're not lost. We're on an alternate route back to the trailhead." "Alternate route, my Aunt Fanny, we've been walking in circles for an hour. I distinctly remember that patch of ferns." He swept his walking stick through the dense fronds. Emma kept walking. "Don't be ridiculous. You can't tell one clump of ferns from another one. They all look alike." "Yeah," he said, bending down to pick up a piece of cloth, "except I dropped my bandanna about an hour ago and I just found it here."
Happy 4th of July! We're grilling brats and turkey burgers, and I've got a rhubarb tart in the oven. We should probably have something green too, like coleslaw, and Durwood will insist on opening a can of baked beans. We won't starve. But then that's never really a threat around here. Enjoy the day!
--Barbara
I opened the patio door when I got up this morning and heard a hawk call so I stood at the screen to listen and watch. Soon I saw one fly across the yard from the right and land up in a big tree in the next yard and rustle behind some branches. Pretty soon I heard more hawk calling and another one flew from the opposite side to join the one in the tree, then they both flew to perch on top of LJ's power pole. Naturally it was a hazy morning so they look like silhouettes but, look, there are two Red-tailed Hawks right there. About an hour later one of them sat on the fence for the longest time and a robin was having a conniption fit, hopping around the lawn chirping with the feathers on top of its head standing straight up, at one point it even buzzed the hawk. We supposed that it has a nearby nest. The hawk was cool, though, it eyed the robin and ducked when it zoomed by its head but didn't budge. It stayed there for a good 20 minutes before flying off. Man, they're gorgeous, mottled brown and white with snowy white bellies and fluffy white feathers down to their knees. They're big too, way bigger than the other hawks that come around. One came "for supper" last night too, sitting on the fence while I was broiling the tuna steak. I'm loving this.
There are two blossoms on the spaghetti squash plant. I hope we get more than 2 squashes but I'll settle for two if that's all that grow. I'm keeping an eye out for blossoms on the gourd plant. I've never grown gourds and I want one I can make into a birdhouse.
The last surviving yellow lily that Mom and Dad planted along the retaining wall is blooming but it looks like it got trampled by a squirrel or a rabbit as it's fallen down, still blooming but just lying down.
I got another repeat of the mosaic hat knitted yesterday and the next one begun. It's about 5" and needs to be 7" before I begin the decreases for the top. I sure like the way this looks. I can't wait to finish and try another design. (If anyone's looking to buy me a gift, say for Christmas, I happen to know there's a mosaic knitting design book in my Amazon wishlist...)
July 3--Christopher Talbot Frank, Mountain Lightning. The storm clouds were so low they looked like they were caught on the mountaintops. Grace and the hands were out in the yard getting everything loose put in the barn or tied down. She chased the last stubborn chicken into the henhouse and used a piece of wire she found in her slicker pocket to secure the door. Todd and Leo made sure the horses were in their stalls and all the vehicle windows were closed. Grace thought these storms were sent her way to force her to clean up the yard. It was too easy to leave a broken wheelbarrow or a three-legged chair next to the shed instead of either fixing it or dumping it. The first lightning bolt hit the lone tree in the pasture filling the air with the smell of ozone and burnt wood. She felt electricity buzz the air and ran for the house.
I need to go to Menard's or someplace like that to get a new flapper for the toilet. It keeps running for a few seconds every once in a while and I think the flapper's the problem. I took a picture of the toilet works just in case I need to get the whole kit and kaboodle, then I want to stop at the AT&T store to have one of the children working there help me with more phone features. I love my phone, I don't understand my phone but then I don't really understand Durwood and I love him too, in a different way than my love for my phone, of course. I'm off. Supper's defrosting, Durwood's napping, and I have errands. Ta-ta!
--Barbara
That's my favorite of the names for this month's full moon. It could also be called the Buck Moon because July is when buck deer's antlers push out of their foreheads covered in velvet. I like Thunder Moon because this month is when we get thunderstorms. I like thunderstorms. I stopped in a parking lot on my way home from the City Band concert last night to get the first picture and then I went out into the street once it was full dark at about 10 o'clock to see if I could do better. I think I got "moodier" but I'm not sure I got "better."
I worked on the Practice Mosaic hat yesterday, got another repeat done and started on the next one--until my fingers got too cold knitting in the park listening to the band. It was chilly last night, so chilly and breezy that I thought about digging my wool stadium blanket out of the car but I toughed it out. Next week I'll toss a smaller flannel blanket in the car for the concert. It gets chilly once the sun goes down around these parts. Especially this summer. Last night's music was good with lots of Sousa marches and other patriotic sorts of songs. Next week is 50s and 60s tunes, can't wait to sing along.
I really enjoyed supper last night at Los Magueyes. I had a chicken quesadilla with rice and beans. It was all delicious and not spicy. In fact, I was kind of looking for something to spice it up since I don't want to salt things and it really didn't need salt, it needed spice. I just had a thought... I could have used pepper, couldn't I? D'oh. *head, slap* I think I'll drag Durwood over there for supper one of these nights soon.
July 2--Silverstock, Nurse. Mac opened one eye to look at the woman in the doorway. It was pretty dark in the room so all he saw was her silhouette in the hall light. "Go away." He tried to turn over but the sides of the bed were up trapping him in the narrow space. She flicked on the room light. "Time to check your BP and temp," she said. He groaned. "How is a person supposed to rest when one of you is in here every fifteen minutes poking and prodding me to measure something that I'm sure hasn't changed since the last time you were here." As he talked she raised the head of his bed a bit, put the blood pressure cuff on his arm, and then stuck a thermometer in his mouth so his last few words came out like "mm mmm hmm." It's hard to complain effectively with a plastic stick in your mouth.
I like that one too, or maybe it's because I'm listening to Water for Elephants and the old narrator's an irascible old coot in a nursing home. Derivative. I figure I haven't gone over the edge (too far) if I can recognize it when I write it. I like Mac though, maybe I'll find something else for him to complain about. Time to run, I've got a haircut at 9 o'clock all the way over in DePere (it's about 5 miles). Toodles!
--Barbara
But not exactly the sort of company that statement would lead you to believe. Just as I set the plates of spaghetti on the table a big Red-Tailed Hawk landed on top of the fence with its own supper in its talons. It stayed to eat so long that I was able to get lots of good photos of it. It's a lot bigger than our usual Cooper's Hawk or Sharp-Shinned Hawk. We were pretty much transfixed, and terribly disappointed when it turned around to face us, dropped its supper off the backside of the fence and flew down to keep eating. But we probably got to gawk at it for 15 or 20 minutes. I am confident that it wasn't eating one of "our" birds, it flew into the yard with it's supper already caught. One young and foolish robin kept hopping around in the grass, at one point hopping toward the hawk, but the raptor turned around, glared at the robin, and the robin flew away. Smart robin.
Didn't knit, didn't sew, and nothing new is blooming, so that's it for reports of my day's activities.
July 1--Howard Sochurek, Inc., Eye. It was just an eye. If you stood up close it looked like an abstract painting in neon on black but if you stood back far enough you saw that ti was an eye. From one angle it looked like a chicken's head but it was definitely an eye. Was it art? Maelyn didn't know. She was probably too unsophisticated to appreciate what some people considered art. She was intrigued by the science that the eye picture represented but she decided that was technology not art. Then it blinked. Nope, definitely not art.
Like I said, that's it. My friend JM and I are going to the City Band tonight but meeting for supper at a Mexican restaurant I've been wanting to try. Mm, Mexican food cooked by actual Mexicans. I can't wait.
--Barbara
Sorry I missed posting yesterday, things were a bit busy around here.
Remember the latest Car Knitting Warshrag? Yeah, I'd almost forgotten it too. It's #8 and it's been a very long time since I knitted on it. Haven't been caught by a coming or going freighter making the Mason St. bridge open lately so I decided to slap on a few rows last night just so it didn't get too depressed living there in the pocket of the driver's door of my car. I'm not especially thrilled with the colors, they're too close, so the next one I'll pick with my eyes closed, one ball from the solids and the other from the variegateds. That should be interesting.
The daisies are blooming and so is the bee balm in their midst. I love daisies, they're so cheerful and they bloom a long time and they spread. Plus they were my beloved Aunt B's wedding flowers. What's not to love?
I wandered over to snap a picture of the last of the Lipstick Lilies and saw this smudge of black and gold on a leaf nearby. When I looked closer I saw that it was a handful of torpid bees clinging to the leaf and waiting for the sun to heat them up for the day. Pretty cool, eh? (yeah, I said "eh" and no, I'm not Canadian) 
