Just A Little

That's all I did today, just a little. Didn't sew, didn't write, barely knitted.  A lazy day.

First, I was thrilled to see a Cardinal come to the platform feeder today.  He or one of his brothers came in the winter but I do believe that he's a bit redder now so maybe spring is really on the way.

Yesterday I deboned the partial rotisserie chicken that I've been nibbling on since last weekend, chopped the meat and froze it, then simmered the carcass in water with salt, pepper, celery, carrots, and an onion, strained it, and put the bowl in the fridge overnight.  This afternoon I measured out the broth and came up with exactly six cups of broth for the freezer.  Hot-diggity-dog.  How's that for luck?


Then I sliced the half-pound of white button mushrooms and a half-pound of crimini mushrooms in the fridge, sauteed them separately in a bit of butter and olive oil, put them into square boxes, and tucked them into the freezer.  Durwood started doing that a few years ago and they're wonderful to have in the freezer for tossing into recipes.  I never thought you could freeze mushrooms but when they're sauteed you can.  Imagine that.

8 March--Tropical Obsession. 

"Looks like a giant albino penis sticking up all lonely at this end of the island." Edward turned to stare at Louise. "What?" She pointed. "There's a lighthouse over there. See?" "Of course, I see it. It's the only building for a mile in any direction." He pulled the camera out of the bag between them on the seat and stepped out of the rental truck to take a picture. He stood in the middle of the road to take it. Theirs was the only vehicle to be seen. It was just after noon and everyone with any sense was either lying in the shade having a siesta or underwater. Not Edward. He was going to wring every moment out of his vacation even if he courted sunstroke. Even if he drove Louise mad with his constant movement.

I have to type fast because I need to get up and get going tomorrow because I need to be at Arti Gras to be in the Knitting Guild booth at 10 AM.  'Night.

--Barbara

Dang, That Hurt

I had a session with my trainer at the Y this afternoon.  We did a lot of upper body work and I managed to pinch the edge of the nail of my left ring finger between the floor and a 15 lb. dumbbell.  Yeah, who was the dumbbell in that picture?  It was me.  It spent the next hour or so throbbing and I know I'm going to have a nice purple bruise on the side of my finger.  Good thing I don't use that finger for a lot of things.





A pair of Bluejays came over for lots of peanuts this morning.  I love hearing their raucous cry announcing their intentions and I love watching them contort themselves around working a peanut out of the wreath.



 

Despite the deep snow and cold temps it must be going to be spring eventually because a whole whack of Sparrows arrived to squabble over the feeder perches and peck around in the seed that one of them scoops out onto the ground.  It appears to be a team effort.




Speaking of a team effort, evidently yesterday's daytime bunny spread the word to its compatriots that there is plenty of birdseed on the ground for the taking because when I got home from the Y and getting a haircut (I might have stopped at JoAnn's Fabrics and a furniture store on the way home) these four bunnies were prospecting for fallen seeds.  Busy, busy, busy, and very focused.


All I bought at JoAnn's was a yard of swimsuit lining and a couple packages of 3/8" elastic which is the width I need to make a swimsuit.  I probably have some downstairs but it's been so long since I bought elastic that I don't want to risk doing all that work only to have the elastic give up the ghost the first time it gets wet.  The Ethan Allen store in town is going out of business and has 60% off everything in the store so I stopped to see if I could find a side chair for the living room.  The one I have is threadbare and shabby but I like it because it's fairly simple in design and doesn't have a skirt.  I found one but it's over $500 even with the huge discount.  I'm going to another store, maybe two, tomorrow to see what I can see before I spend that much on a chair.


At the same time the bunnies were here I noticed this squirrel hanging upside down from the cage feeder that has suet and fruit pellets in it.  This winter the squirrels have only resorted to eating the dried corn on the cob when all of the suet pellets and peanuts are gone.

Instead of knitting tonight I spent the evening counting out 2-WW-points snack bags.  I have a list of how much of a lot of snack-y type things counts 2 points so all I have to do is count and bag, and I even keep the bags to use again.  Waste not, want not.  I'm much better at snacking if I can grab a little bag of pretzels, nuts, crackers, or M&Ms that has a controlled amount in it than just plunging my hand into a big bag and grabbing some.  I'm not going to not snack, at least I can exercise some control.



7 March--Tropical Obsession. 

The sunset on Gotomeer painted the water a luminous shade of orange touched with purple gray shadows. Edward steered the rental car along the road that skirted the lake. "Why every time we go out we end up trapped on this damned one-way road, I do not know." His knuckles were white with frustration and his generous lips thinned as he spoke. "It amazes me that on an island this small you manage to get us lost." He cut a glance at his wife, Louise, beside him holding a guidebook and staring out the windshield at the wheeling gulls out over the wake of a passing fishing boat. She didn't look at her husband or offer an argument to his outrageous statement. "Of course," Edward said into the strained silence, "if you would quit giving me the wrong directions this wouldn't happen." Still not speaking, Louise rolled down her window letting in the hot, humid breeze generated by the car's movement, tossed the guidebook out, and rolled the window back up. Edward took his foot off the gas and stomped on the brake, forgetting to depress the clutch, causing the engine to stall. He turned to look at her. "Why the hell did you do that?" Louise turned her expressionless face to meet his reddening one and said, "Well, if I keep getting us lost the map must be faulty. It couldn't be your driving." She calmly faced forward again.

I have one more session with the trainer left so it's time to think about whether I want to get some more and meet every other week or just rely on getting myself out there.  I think I'll probably pop for some more sessions.  I work a lot harder with Megan than I do on my own.  *sigh*
--Barbara

A Confused Bunny

 

Usually there is a group of three or four bunnies grazing under the bird feeders just after sundown but today this confused bunny was out there in broad daylight.  It had its back to me so I couldn't see if it was confused or just couldn't tell time.  (don't ask me what that has to do with anything, it just popped into my head and squirted out my fingertips)


ACJ and I met this afternoon at The Attic and mostly talked through what I need to write to get that hole in The Seaview filled before I take it to the Writers' Institute conference in Madison FOUR WEEKS FROM TOMORROW.  (What?  No, I'm not freaking out.  Why do you ask?)  I managed to write a couple paragraphs but had forgotten to take my Kindle in so I couldn't put in earbuds and play the "time to write" nature sounds so my writing brain barely turned on.  Must be the cold weather.

While waiting for time to go to DePere to the First United Presbyterian Church's monthly community supper (build-your-own loaded baked potatoes and mac-and-cheese) I knitted a few rounds on the brioche cowl.  I also spotted a boo boo about six rounds back.  I keep looking at it and think I might be able to drop stitches down, fix the mistake, and then hook the stitches back up but know that way lies madness.  I'm calling it a "design element" and keeping going.



After I got home I went downstairs, found the right size remnant of swimsuit lining fabric, brought it up, and got the last piece of my experimental swimsuit cut out.  Now I won't be able to sew it up until next week at the earliest and should probably back burner it until I've got more of that pesky novel chapter written.  We shall see how good I am at resisting the temptation to sew on it.

6 March--Tropical Obsession. 

Like parti-colored Easter eggs, the kokolishi shells were piled in crevices and depressions in the shoreline rocks, winking in the sun. Waves pushed at them, tugged them back like dice rattling in a cup, rearranged them like rune stones readying for a reading. Diego sat hunched on the wet rock not caring when the waves slurped at his legs and hips, not giving in to the cool promise of the water but glaring at the small colorful shells tumbling in their rocky captivity. The shells gave the impression that their colors were fake. They glowed pink, yellow, navy, and white in the frame of black rock like art glass in a display. The blaring sun overhead did duty as spotlight as with each passing wave the shells tumbled and preened. Diego had come to this isolated beach to escape prying eyes, to avoid the meeting he knew must happen, to postpone the moment when past indiscretions collided with present entanglement.

Do you know that the dreaded Daylight Savings Time rears its ugly head on Sunday?   It's true, we spring forward losing a precious hour of sleep.  Gah!  I know I rant about this twice a year but I absolutely detest DST.  Whoever thinks that lopping an hour off one end of the day and tacking it onto the other end makes more daylight is a fool.  There, I said it, a damned fool.  Plus everybody is owly for at least a day from the time change.  I know I'm hollering down a rat hole but I can't help myself.  Rant over... for now.  *pant, pant*
--Barbara

Look Out Below!

 

I looked out this morning and saw these icicles.  Don't they look like daggers hanging there just waiting to skewer some unsuspecting creature foolish enough to pause under them?  I hear on the weather report that it's supposed to warm up for the weekend.  There'll be rain south of us and snow north of us but we, the lucky ones, are supposed to have rain or snow or both.  Yippee.  Also ack.

I dragged myself to the Y this afternoon and, believe me, drag is the right word.  I did not want to go out and get colder; I was already cold inside the house.  Yesterday my chiropractor recommended that I walk in the pool when I complained about my ankle aching because she looked at it and it was pretty much where it was supposed to be.  So I packed up my shower shoes, towel, and swim suit and went out to spend half an hour walking up and down in the nice warm pool.  I'm glad I went, it felt great.  (This photo was taken after I got home and hung up my things to dry.  Taking a photo at the Y is frowned upon.)




On the way home the thoughts that have been milling around in the back of my mind came together.  I want a new swimsuit, see, and I have a whole tote full of swimsuit fabric but I don't think I want to make a crossover suit like the ones I used to make.  I like the 2-piece suits I made for diving (so I didn't have to totally disrobe to change after diving since there are seldom places to change at dive sites) but I also don't want my flabby belly to be on display at the Y.  I hauled up the sports bra and trunks patterns I used for the diving swimsuits and drew off an over-top using the bra pattern and extending the sides down to what I hope is hip level.  My plan is to sew the sports bra and over-top together at the neckline and armholes, put elastic in the midriff of the sports bra and then hem the over-top to the length I like.  Fingers crossed.  Now all I have to do is find the lining fabric downstairs, cut out the trunks front, then I'll be all set to start sewing, maybe this weekend.  Or not, I keep forgetting that I said I'd be in the booth the knitting guild will have at a local art fair this weekend.  Anyway, I'll keep you posted on the swimsuit news.

5 March--Tropical Obsession. 

"Necklace, Mister? Only fifteen guilders." Jack pushed away the dark brown hand that thrust the shell necklace at him. One look at his face and the middle-aged woman vendor withdrew her hand and took a step back. His eyes, icy blue and darting from side to side, kept everyone at bay. It was obvious he was searching for someone and everyone who saw him as he threaded a path through the dawdling cruise ship passengers in Queen Wilhelmina park across from the Town Pier was glad he wasn't looking for them. He smoked the harsh island cigarettes one after another. Just another reason to wreak revenge on Manning, Jack thought. Eight years not smoking and within a month on this God-forsaken outpost of an island, he was back over a pack a day. Damned Manning. And damn Nola for nagging him about it.

Today I hauled up an ancient tote filled with framed photos etc. from long ago.  I sorted out a few choice things to keep, tossed some in the trash, and have the tote and most of the frames all set to donate the next time I'm near Goodwill, St. Vincent de Paul, or the Salvation Army.    None of them are far away.  We'll see whose turn it is or where I am when I get tired of hearing them rattle in the back of my car.  Tomorrow afternoon I meet ACJ for a couple hours of writing.  I've got my things all ready to go.  Fingers crossed I can make some more words stick to the page.
--Barbara