Not because I want to go to work every day. No, because I try to cram so many to-dos in them that I get so tired that I'm ready for bed by 8:30. Retiring is going to fix that--eventually. I have no illusions that I won't continue to run around like a crazed weasel for a few days or weeks but I'm hoping that once I get used to having all the days off, I'll quit trying to get so many things done in one day. Hopefully.
Look at how gorgeous my little lettuces are. They're buttercrunch aka butterhead lettuce so they'll be a little rosette of yummy lettuce. I should probably get more lettuce seeds so I can reseed them once we eat what's there and the heat of full summer is past. Maybe I'll get some radish seeds and give those a chance in the bare spots... One of the basils didn't make it but I suspect that there're no more basil plants to be had. They sell out early. Good thing one of the basils is making it. Hmm, maybe I can find some basil seeds...
The poppies are starting to open. Look at this swirl of petals. By the time the sun hit the garden the flower was fully open. There are a few buds on the peonies. I really should transplant them into a spot where they get more sun; they'd do better. Maybe this weekend. And in the front of the house the last remaining Asiatic lily is just about ready to flower. I planted a whole raft of lilies a few years back and this one and one Stargazer are all that's left. I suspect rabbits eat them, the dirty little fiends.
I hung up this birdhouse again. I've hung this birdhouse every year for years and not once has a bird made a nest in it. Hornets or wasps do, but not birds. Trying again. Oh, and one of yesterday's to-dos was to fix the leaky fountain so all of the water didn't drip out through the day leaving the pump high and dry and burning it out. I fixed the leak, the pump worked fine, everyone was happy. I plugged it in this morning, it ran, and then Durwood said, "Did you plug in the pump?" I checked the plug at the wall, the extension cord, and declared it dead. (but I just realized that it's a GFI outlet. I should check that too) I had another pump downstairs (evidently I keep everything just in case) but it looks like it needs a hose with a wider diameter; I'll see what's what tonight after work. Maybe I can make something work.
June 7--Hans Holbein the Younger, A Courtier of King Henry VIII. Henry dressed with care, putting on his new silk neck scarf and red satin coat with "H R" embroidered in black with gold thread accents on the front. His life should have been smooth, after all he was named for the king, but no one in court had a moment's peace. Too often an innocent remark or a look in the wrong direction earned His Majesty's wrath. Henry resolved to try to stay in the shadows, to move on the margins of the court, and keep his eyes and his tongue under control at all times.
Good luck with that, Hank. Hey, it's DIL1's birthday today. If you know who I mean and if you see her today, wish her a Happy Birthday. She should get birthday wishes from everyone, she deserves it. She's swell and I'm so happy that she's ours. I'm off.
--Barbara
I took my thrifted bolt of weird, stiff, woven fabric to work with me yesterday along with the three 100 Acts of Sewing patterns I bought a couple weeks ago, Mom's good scissors, and a marking pen so I could put up one of the long tables in the back room and be able to trace off the pieces without having to crawl around on the floor. It worked like a charm. These are very simple shapes, nothing fancy about them, the fabric has the right amount of stiffness and translucence, and I was even smart enough to use some of the lead weights stacked in the back room as pattern weights. *head, slap* Why have I been pining to make some pattern weights when I have a heap of scuba weights in the garage? (I'm such a disappointment to myself) I've got a length of blue/gray and white stripe seersucker that I'm going to use to make the first pair of pants. I bought the fabric years (and years) ago to make some lounging pants so it's sort of a muslin cop-out--fabric to experiment with that could possibly produce something wearable.
Once I was done with that I picked up the Helical Eenie Preemie Hat and got going with the stripes. I am endlessly entertained and totally hooked on this striping technique.
(Just so you know I did have customers to wait on and sell things to and I spent a few hours learning a new function of the POS computer program so my day wasn't all spent doing stuff for myself and getting paid for it. I do work at work--most days.)
The straw bale garden is going great guns. Days of sunshine and some warmth have convinced most of the plants that growing is the thing to do. One of the basils and the rosemary haven't decided yet whether they're going to make it but the rest of the herbs are looking good.
June 6--Currier and Ives, Ice Boat Race on the Hudson River. Snow blew in shreds across the black lake ice. The day had begun sunny and clear but cold. Now the sky was buried under a blanket of grey clouds so heavy and low it looked like the pine trees on shore were all that kept them off the ice. Four young men piloted ice boats, racing each other and a freight train heading south on the tracks that ran parallel to the shore. Enoch was in the lead boat. He glanced over to see the engineer and brakeman waving at him. He grinned and waved back. They weren't smiling, they pointed ahead and waved him to slow down. If he slowed, one of the other boats might overtake him. He was too low to see the wide pressure ridge before he was on it. The last thing he saw was his boat's runners against the sky.
Today is D-Day, the day the Allied forces landed at Normandy in WWII. Stop a moment and think about the hundreds of men, boys really, who never made it to the sand or off the beach...... Okay, now it's time to find some lunch and set about enjoying the rest of the day--as soon as the air conditioner tune-up tech has left.
--Barbara
I was just about to go outside to top up the birdbath when I saw a flutter of green and red in the honeysuckle. It was Mr. Hummingbird come for breakfast. I managed to carefully close the patio door without scaring him off, grab the camera, and take a couple of pictures, one of which is sort of in focus. But I'm thrilled that his ruby red throat is so visible. He's a much deeper green than the females too.
A poppy bloomed overnight. Look how gorgeous it is. I especially love the deep deep purple of its center. More to come.
I carefully scanned the area in front of the back board behind the asparagus and found a few tiny sunflower sprouts. I'm hoping at least a couple of them survive to maturity. Fingers crossed.
The lettuces are coming along. Man, I have got to find some sort of shaker for next year. Look how clumpy they are. Good thing seeds are cheap. Maybe I can swing by Goodwill tomorrow and find another packet of them or I suppose I could go to an actual garden store... but then I'm in danger of buying more plants and I really don't have places for them... although there are a few pots on the old broken-down park bench that aren't planted... NO! No, Barbara, no. You have enough to do without adding more work.
Last night's Marinated Pork Fried Rice was a triumph, if I do say so myself. I found a recipe on Taste of Home that I adjusted to our tastes and dietary preferences. Doesn't it look good? I was especially proud of myself for picking a chive blossom and garnishing our bowls with the deconstructed blossoms. How very cool of me, don't you think? However, I don't think the mild chive flavor was strong enough to compete with the dish but it looked pretty and I tore another blossom apart to sprinkle on the salads I made to take to work this week. (counting today, I work for 10 more days--but who's counting?)
June 5--Torello Ancillotti, Redness of the Evening. Cilla wore her favorite white skirt with the pink floral bodice they had made from Mama's confirmation dress. Her jacket was dusty pink and fitted her perfectly. Topping it all was her summer straw hat with its cascade of white tulle and ribbons. She knew she looked her best so when the artist told her to sit on the ground beside the river with her feet almost in the water she nearly balked, but he had flattered her, telling her, "you will look like a beautiful rose sitting there with the sweep of the river before you." Then he had pressed his lips to her temple which made her breathing feel tight. She sat where he told her to even though she felt the dampness come through her skirt almost immediately. He touched her cheek to make her turn her head, placed her hand out beside her to lean on. She felt her skin warm wherever he touched her.
I am so not accustomed to working on Monday anymore so it was a real struggle to get my feces consolidated this morning to get here semi-on-time. I would have been here on time except I got caught between two dump trucks on Seventh St. where they're replacing storm sewers in preparation for resurfacing that street and ours too. It should be a colossal mess most of the summer since Seventh St. is the sole way to access our little neighborhood. Yippee.
--Barbara
... that you can't go to the garden center and buy just one plant. The oregano didn't survive so I had to stop today for another one. I really meant to just pick up one $3 herb plant but evidently it's against some natural law, that buying one plant is like eating one potato chip, you just can't do it. (she says as she munches on a snack bag of 9 bacon-flavored Ritz Crisps [2 WW points]) So I got the Golden Oregano I went for, a Lemon Variegated Thyme (I love variegated yarn, why not buy variegated plants?), a Peppermint, and a Spearmint. What? They were all 20% off--which means I should have bought another herb, that would have been like getting one free. Now there's logic for you, a prime example of "women's shopping logic." Do you think it's genetic or learned?
Before I went out erranding I put on my thickest leather work gloves, grabbed a pokey, digger thing, and went next door to vanquish this stand of thistles. Our renters have been very busy having a new baby and planning a wedding and I don't pay much attention so a couple of these things were waist high on me. Now, I'm not very tall so it's not hard for things to grow waist high on me but these thistles were determined to stay in the ground. I prevailed and only poked myself a few times.
Yesterday afternoon while the laundry went round and round, I sewed up the first Tablesetters Placemat. It's a double thickness of upholstery fabric with some of that non-slip shelf liner on the back with bias tape holding the layers together. I spent the rest of laundry time trimming the strings off the edges of pieces of fabric and ironing them so that when I want to sew something with it all I'll be ready. I didn't get anywhere near done with that little project but, trust me, there's plenty of fabric for me to sew up without needing to buy more. Plenty.
After supper I decided to cast on a preemie hat and use the helical stripe method I used for the last pair of socks. As you can see I only got three rounds knitted before I heard the siren call of the Sandman and toddled off to dreamland. The other two colors will be cream and coral but I'll do a few more rounds of the lilac for the rolled brim before I add them in.
Speaking of supper, I can not express how much I love plain old chicken on the grill. Not with barbecue sauce, not even salted & peppered, just naked chicken with skin and bones slapped over hot charcoal and cooked for 45 minutes. Mm, that's good eatin'. Even only taking one bite of the crispy skin and then throwing the rest away, it is some of the best stuff there is. Plus that little pound of boneless pork chunk I marinated and grilled along with the chicken is going to make two suppers of pork fried rice. You totally wish you were coming to supper. All week, because there's plenty of chicken left. Mwa-ha-ha-ha.
June 4--Linen Postcard, A Winter Scene on the Mojave Desert. Lea stared through the windshield at the mountains. No matter how fast she went or how long she drove they stayed firmly on the horizon. The road was straight and flat and after a few hours she began to feel like her car was stationary and the scenery was moving. Well, all except for those mountains out there in the distance. The sun had shifted and came baking through the window making her left arm feel like it was on fire. If she was hot and bored she figured that Nicholson, her terrier mutt rescue dog, was hot and thirsty. "Next piece of shade we come to we're taking a break," she said to the little brown and white dog snoozing in the passenger side foot well right under the air conditioner vent. He lifted an ear and peeked at her with one eye as if you say "you talking to me?"
I walked this morning and I'm happy to report that I was just about a half-mile in before my legs and back started aching. This is a great improvement over the last time when I didn't get 100 yds. from home before my leg muscles tried to convince me to turn around. Too much sitting, too much knitting. Gotta change. Gotta go get my new herbs in the ground. Dirty fingernails, here I come.
--Barbara
For the most part my straw bale garden is doing well but the herbs growing out the side? Not so much. The thyme and parsley which are planted in the end of the bale on either side of the hose seem to be doing okay but those other four? Uh-uh. In fact, they're well on their way to dying. Typing that last sentence led me to abandon my keyboard for a few minutes and scurry out to transplant them along the timber sides of the garden and give them nice big drenching drinks of water. The oregano, on the left, is in the most critical condition. The two basils, on the right, are next worst, and the rosemary, second from left, isn't doing too badly but it's a plant from a dry climate. I transplanted it anyway. If I have to go buy more herb plants I will and next year I'll be sure to arrange the soaker hose more carefully. Live (or kill plants) and learn.
I have high hopes for a better crop of blueberries this year. Look at all the flower bottoms clustered on this bush. The flowers themselves have faded and fallen but each and every one of those little cups could turn into a berry if it wanted to. I noticed some tiny green orbs in a few spots but I'm not going to say too much more in case I jinx them. Let's just say that having to use up more soaker hose by laying it under the blueberries seems to be turning out to be a good idea. Next year they might get only one length of hose instead of two so I can snake the soaker hose back and forth on top of the bales for better coverage but I'm guessing that having water twice a day is doing wonders for them after the haphazard watering they've had in the past. And let's not forget that last growing season was the post-broken ankle, using a walker or a cane season so any gardening success this year is cause for excitement.
One aspect of the straw bale garden I read about but hadn't seen until today is the mushrooms. Not eating mushrooms, that would be too much to hope for, but plain old toadstool mushrooms. One of my bales is ahead of the composting game. It's a darker color and it's slumping in the middle already. That's the one with the mushrooms on it. In other news the Early Girl tomato right next to these mushrooms has a flower on it today. Go, Early Girl!
Not much yarn news today. I finished Advent Garland Mitten #9 and added an inch or two to the ever-pushed-aside Sudoku Long Strip #1. It needs to be about 64" long and it's about halfway or maybe a little more. Perhaps I'll work on it more often since I've decided to see if I can solve the Jumble and Sudoku in the daily paper. I have a lot more luck with the Jumble but I'm getting a bit better at Sudoku. Logical deduction has never been my strong suit so I'm extra happy when I can finish the 2-star ones and make a start on the 3-star ones. I pretend that I can do the 4- and 5-star ones but that's mostly a waste of graphite. Someday...
June 3--Adolf Boehm, Landscape. The landscape all around looked like it was on fire. The leaves were every shade of red, orange, and yellow. They rippled in the wind like undulating flames. In the center clearing there was a small dark mound like the nexus of stillness in a storm. Angus stood at the treeline studying the mound. It hadn't been there the day before. He prided himself on knowing every bit of the land around, knew the animals and birds, knew the comings and goings of the people too. He thought about the gossip he heard in the hardware store about a city woman buying Caleb Nelson's old place up the road and turning it into a retreat for artists. The more he looked at the mound the more uneasy he felt. He tugged his hat more firmly on his head and had lifted one foot to go investigate when the mound moved and resolved itself into the form of a woman in dark clothes lying spreadeagled on the grass.
Okay, kiddies, that's about it for today. I've already changed the sheets on the beds and have the first load of laundry in the washer. As soon as this is posted I plan to go downstairs to fling more laundry around and then I think I'll see if I can't manage to sew up at least one of the two tablesetter placemats I have cut out. Then I can iron and organize the fabric I washed last weekend that's in an out-of-the-dryer ball on the ironing board. And you might know since I have a bunch of chicken parts thawed and a little boneless pork roast marinating for cooking on the grill tonight it's decided to be a rainy day. Or maybe I only decide to grill out when it's supposed to rain. One or the other but I'm more likely to blame the weatherman than myself. I'm off.
--Barbara
Have you ever been so tired of yourself you'd really like to give yourself a timeout? I'm there. I'm soooo there. It isn't even that things I should do are things I don't want to do. They are things that most of the time I can't wait to do. Things like sewing or knitting/crocheting. Like seeing if I can't fix the soaker hose on the bales so the herbs get better water and don't droop or die. Like going for a walk around the block so my thigh muscles stop aching from too much sitting on my behind. Lately I've been zoning out surfing the web, playing spider solitaire while listening to audiobooks, or sitting at the table with Durwood staring vacantly at whatever TV show he's watching. I've stopped planning meals, grabbing the easiest and quickest, and really slacking off on fresh veggies. That is so not like me. So this morning after I did my yoga I gave myself a talking to, right there in my Bullet Journal using my lovely Waterman fountain pen. I refused to listen to any whining about being tired or bored or just don' wanna. I was firm and direct and laid out some ground rules.
Then I went downstairs and inventoried the food in the freezer. I didn't defrost it, I wasn't that cowed by the talking to I got, but I have a better idea of what's down there, meat-wise, and Durwood and I discussed giving frozen veggies a try since I managed to allow a bunch of fresh ones go bad. But not the beets. Beets are on the menu for tomorrow. (tonight we have the other half of Tuesday's pizza so I can make a quick exit to go knitting) Tomorrow there'll be chicken and pork (oldest chicken package and the pork lost its vacuum seal) on the grill so that during the week we can grab some meat ready to eat, match it up with some veggies, and have a nutritious and delicious supper before it gets dark. Hmm, maybe I'll marinate the pork so we can have some awesome fried rice later in the week. What a great idea. One of the things I want to do when I retire (in four weeks) is to do some investment cooking for the freezer (using some of the meat we already have) so we can just grab something yummy and not have to think of what to eat every day.
The only yarn-y thing I have to share is this thumb top and mitten top that I started to crochet last night.
June 2--Vincent van Gogh, Almond Blossoms. Jean lay on the damp ground under the winter-bare tree. She concentrated on the designs the black branches traced on the blue sky. The branches looked twisted and bent like arthritic fingers making her thing of her grandmother's hands. Gram had hated that her hands betrayed her, hurt too much to let her sew or knit for long. It was even hard for her to sign her name. The bare, gnarled tree made Jean think of old age and death but then she noticed a pale green fuzziness on some branches and even a few fragile white blossoms opening in the sunshine. The sight gave her hope, lifted her spirit, and drew a faint smile on her lips.
I met a friend for lunch at a place that is reported to have "the best" hamburgers. My cheeseburger was good but I'm not sure I'd call it "the best." I won't hesitate to go there for another burger but it didn't push Joe Rouer's out of number one on my hit parade. It's a nice place, very popular, and reasonable. It'll definitely get a repeat visit. Plus I got to spend a couple hours chatting with a friend. What's not to like?
--Barbara
When my brother, TW, was small, outside was where he wanted to be and often when he stepped out the door he'd say, "sa-sigh" like he'd just stepped into paradise. "Sa-sigh" was his three-year-old way of saying "outside" and, as you can tell, it's really stuck with me. It's what I thought when I stepped out into the glorious morning today. The sun was peering through the leaves of the trees up the hill out of a clear blue sky.
There's a green fuzz of carrot sprouts on the bale and you can see that I'm terrible at evenly spreading out lettuce seeds. Hopefully I can use toothpicks to separate and spread them out a bit.
The blueberries have a few late-blooming flowers on them and the chive blossoms are ready to pop.
In the floral department, the old honeysuckle (a relic of Dad's family farm in Indiana, I'll keep it going as long as I can) has a few flowers on it and the poppy buds are bigger and higher.
As far as yarn news, all I have to show is the first crocheted mitten for the Advent Garland. I had to learn new techniques to finish this one. Front post double crochet and back post double crochet--not difficult at all but thank god for YouTube and all the crafters who take the time to video, narrate, and post their how-tos. Thank you, one and all.
June 1--Arslan Tash (Hadatu), Syria, Sphinx, Furniture Fragment. It wasn't the most comfortable chair she'd ever sat in but Laura thought that being duct taped to any chair would be uncomfortable. At least it was an interesting chair with its arms and front legs carved to look like sphinxes. Her hands could hardly move but her fingers traced the almond-shaped eyes and full lips of the mythical creatures. The smooth ivory warmed under her touch and might have been soothing like worry beads if she hadn't been trussed up like a FedEx package in the basement of the museum. Roger had been acting very nervous and excited as he led her down past the labs and the old storage racks, telling her he had something to show her. She should have been suspicious. Roger wasn't much of a researcher and he'd never even gotten his Masters but she had let him lure her along with the promise of "something special." He had unearthed the old ivory chair from the Middle East/North Africa area and urged her to have a seat. Just to humor him, she did. It wasn't until the first band of duct tape went around her wrist binding her to the chair that she realized just how much trouble she was in. She had kicked, scratched, and screamed but he slapped her hard enough to stun her to give him time to finish securing her to the chair.
Happy June 1. I am amazed that it's June already but here it is. Summer can't be far behind. Maybe I can convince Durwood to eat on the patio this weekend. Time, and the weather, will tell.
--Barbara
Look at how gorgeous my little lettuces are. They're buttercrunch aka butterhead lettuce so they'll be a little rosette of yummy lettuce. I should probably get more lettuce seeds so I can reseed them once we eat what's there and the heat of full summer is past. Maybe I'll get some radish seeds and give those a chance in the bare spots... One of the basils didn't make it but I suspect that there're no more basil plants to be had. They sell out early. Good thing one of the basils is making it. Hmm, maybe I can find some basil seeds...
The poppies are starting to open. Look at this swirl of petals. By the time the sun hit the garden the flower was fully open. There are a few buds on the peonies. I really should transplant them into a spot where they get more sun; they'd do better. Maybe this weekend. And in the front of the house the last remaining Asiatic lily is just about ready to flower. I planted a whole raft of lilies a few years back and this one and one Stargazer are all that's left. I suspect rabbits eat them, the dirty little fiends.
I hung up this birdhouse again. I've hung this birdhouse every year for years and not once has a bird made a nest in it. Hornets or wasps do, but not birds. Trying again. Oh, and one of yesterday's to-dos was to fix the leaky fountain so all of the water didn't drip out through the day leaving the pump high and dry and burning it out. I fixed the leak, the pump worked fine, everyone was happy. I plugged it in this morning, it ran, and then Durwood said, "Did you plug in the pump?" I checked the plug at the wall, the extension cord, and declared it dead. (but I just realized that it's a GFI outlet. I should check that too) I had another pump downstairs (evidently I keep everything just in case) but it looks like it needs a hose with a wider diameter; I'll see what's what tonight after work. Maybe I can make something work.
