This morning I couldn't sleep beyond 6:15 so I got up to find only a little ice in the birdbath and no frost on the grass. That's a little better, not a lot, but better-ish. The sun's shining brightly so it only seems right that it should warm up around here, doesn't it? According to the weather guys it's supposed to get near 60 and cloud up a little today but be closer to 70 tomorrow with no rain. Hallelujah. Now let's try to string a few days like this together, okay?
Friday Night Knitting last night was a laugh a minute. Lyn & Steve are selling their house to make Mesa, AZ their permanent home (they'll rent a place for summer visits here--what do you call reverse snowbirds? sunbirds?) Anyway Steve told her that he wasn't renting a bigger moving truck to haul all her yarn to Arizona so they carried almost all of her yarn stash to knitting last night for the knitters to pick through and take what they wanted before she took the remains to sell at her sister's rummage sale today. What's left after that goes to charity. She did charge for the four 10-packs of cashmere she had but the rest of it was "take what you want." I exercised almost superhuman resistance, that is, until the bag of 38 skeins, no 2 skeins the same color, of tapestry yarn was uncovered, then I almost leaped off the couch to snatch it up. (a person can knit with tapestry yarn, can't she?) See, I've been wanting to knit the E.L.F. Cap (because I am a dork) from Unofficial Harry Potter Knits but didn't want to have to buy all the colors and then there they were all in one bag and all for free. Yay! Thanks a million, Lyn. The rest of the evening I spent watching the other knitters poke through the mountain of bags of yarn, finding things they couldn't resist, and analyzing what they should and shouldn't take based on their storage space. I think Lyn had almost as much fun watching her yarn go as when she first bought it, maybe more. It was a fun night that makes me want to go turn out all my yarn bins, look at the contents with an objective eye, and do the same thing in a month or so. Since today's job is laundry and I'll be down there in the basement for a few hours, maybe I'll make a start. (remember, Barbara, OBJECTIVE eye, check your emotions at the door)
I caved and bought a different, cheaper, oranger oriole feeder yesterday and put it out. Hopefully the orioles will use it and stop hogging the hummingbird juice. My ferns are sprouting and there are buds on the blueberries. Things are happening out in the yard and garden, just way more slowly than in past, warmer years. Does this mean it'll be warm into November? That, too, would be odd.
May 17--Meissen Manufactory, Table Snuffbox. When I was a child I loved poking around on my grandma's dressing table. There were pots and potions, soft powders, and mysterious tiny bottles of scent. She kept her jewelry in one of the drawers and I spent many happy hours draping myself in beads and chains and bangles. When Aunt Hattie asked me what I wanted for my sixth birthday I said, "junk jewelry." She cruised all the five-and-dime stores and a couple of Goodwills to find me a treasure trove of necklaces, bracelets, and pins for my gift. For that I loved her more than buttered popcorn.
Okay. Time to go fling dirty, then wet, and then clean clothes around, and maybe sort out some yarn. That's like spring cleaning, right? Right. Tally ho!
--Barbara
I opened the curtains this morning and, uh-oh, the birdbaths were iced over and there was frost on the newly mown grass. %$#^&!!!!! (sorry, emotion got the better of me) It's May 16th, people, it's supposed to be warming up not cooling down, not freezing overnight, not endangering my overwintered bay leaf and rosemary plants that are on the patio, not icing the birdie juice.
Speaking of birdie juice, Durwood made 2 cups of it that we dyed orange to put out in Mom's old oriole feeder when we saw the oriole try to contort himself to drink from the hummingbird feeder the other day. He's been ignoring it. The level of juice hasn't dropped a millimeter while the juice in the hummer feeder's almost gone so the orioles are definitely still drinking it. Maybe it's the feeder... In the meantime we'll put out another hummer feeder with oriole juice in it. Tsk. Birds.
I embroidered (not very well) the face on the Elephant Pacifier Strap yesterday and knitted the second half of the Strong heel on my Fiddlehead sock. I had to turn off my audiobook and hope that the phone didn't ring for the first 4 rows but after that it was a cinch, it made perfect sense. I don't have a lot of confidence that the heel will be durable since it's a single layer of knitting, not padded like a flap heel, but it's clever.
I got the back and side yards mowed yesterday after work. It was a job and one that I didn't do all that well. The grass was too long to not bag but I didn't bag because of how much more work it is with all that stopping and carrying the bag of clippings to dump somewhere. Now there are windrows of cut grass left on the lawn that will dry and look raggedy but I figure it'll get chopped up when I mow next time. I promise (cross my heart) not to wait so long. I didn't mow the front because I'm trying to let the overseeding take hold. That means every morning I run the sprinkler for half an hour when I first get up. It looks like crap, it needs a chance to improve, either that or I'm calling a lawn whisperer for some advice.
May 16--India, A Common Indian Nightjar. The sun was setting, the shadows lengthened like black fingers across the field. Rana sat on the bank of the irrigation ditch watching the swallows dip and swirl to catch insects in the fading light. The world seemed to hold its breath at that time of day. The wind died, everything got quiet, a person could hear herself think. Rana had a lot to think about. David wanted to take a job offer that would mean moving halfway around the world. She wasn't sure she wanted to go, wasn't sure she loved him enough to stay married, to make that kind of commitment to a life with him.
And that's the end of that notebook. Woohoo! One more on the pile that DS & DD will have to burn or recycle when I'm gone. One more book for me to read through when I'm old and feeble sitting in my wheelchair on the porch of "the home" wondering who wrote all of that, thinking what nice handwriting she had. Silly. Hey, I slept until 7 o'clock (luxurious) so it's time for me to have a bit of yogurt, granola, and fruit while I read the paper, then Durwood's got a toe doc appointment before lunch. See you later, alligator.
--Barbara
On this drizzle-y day we have all yarn things to look at and talk about.
At work yesterday where all the "work" phone calls (the only kind there was) and "work" people (5 actual customers) clustered themselves between 4 and 5:15 PM, I finished the Elephant Pacifier Clip except for the tiny face embroidery stitches. I think it's very cute. We'll see what Miss LC thinks soon.
Then I plunged right into May Men's Chemo Hat #2. After making that crazy lime and purple one I thought a sedate black and red one would be just the ticket. The first Men's Chemo Hat I made this year I made with this same black yarn and I have to say I think I've discovered why that one was so big--the yarn seems way thicker than the red stuff. Makes me glad I decided to make this one a size smaller with a bigger hook. I'm planning to make it size large long though so that the hat is long enough to cover the wearer's ears. I figure that way all of the head sans hair will be covered, or there'll be a better chance of it anyway.
Today is the deadline for the May Art Challenge, Ephemerol Mayfly, so after supper last night I wrangled around with wire and the wings I'd made, consulted with Durwood, and decided to just sew the darned things on and be done with it, and not worry about gluing walnuts together to make another bug at all. (I think I'm suffering greatly from our pretty steady string of dreary and rainy days so my enthusiasm for bug-making waned.) Here's the finished Winged Trilobite. I like it. The wings are small enough that you don't really believe that they could fly the body, just like I wanted it to be. I wish the beads were bigger and flashier but that's what I had and I like them too.
I am trying to motivate myself to finish the sock I currently have OTN before I wind a different hank of sock yarn into a ball and cast on a shawl I've been mooning over for a year or so, maybe two. It's one of those things that gets shoved aside for smaller, faster projects, and then there was all that coming grandbaby knitting that had to get done, but I think seeing the orioles the other day reminded me about it. See, the skein of yarn is called Baltimore Oriole and it has all of the oriole colors, so who wouldn't want to get that knitted up to wear. I want to do it RIGHT NOW, but I'll wait until I've got the sock done. Really. No, really, I put the sock bag in my knitting basket and it's all set to be grabbed on the way out the door. I'm halfway through the heel, then need to do the foot and toe. That won't take too long, she says, with a complete disregard for reality.
May 15--Emile Guillieron, Reproduction of the "Ladies in Blue" Fresco. Kay sat hunched over the work table, her hands busy in the pool of light. She was working on what could be the most important find of the season. The fragments of painted plaster gave her the barest hint of what the entire wall had looked like. There were two pieces with part of hands on them. It would have been too simple for them to fit together. Naturally they didn't. Dr. Morgan's disinterest in her find and the reconstruction of the fresco had motivated her to search for a place at a different museum.
That's when I fell asleep. Actually I fell asleep in the middle of the last sentence and finished it this morning. Good thing I remembered what I meant to write before I conked off. Time to shower and do all that getting ready for work stuff.
--Barbara
Hump DAY! (imagine a camel walking through an office) And it's SUNNY! (all caps for happy not hollering) With all the rain every lawn in sight is bright green, even the random blades in our front yard are green around the brown patches. I sure hope that the seed I scattered on Saturday is even now working its way into the ground working to fill in the blanks so our lawn looks all green too. I'm just afraid it's some sort of grub or fungus or something. Bah. Luckily whatever it is hasn't touched my tulips and grape hyacinths. Whew. And nothing's menacing the Lilies of the Valley in back. Double Whew.
Yesterday afternoon I explored the wilds of the South Broadway neighborhoods looking for the body shop that Joe (the guy we buy our cars from) told me about to get my Post-Office-truck fender dent undented. I found it down by the old, now defunct, railroad yard behind ranks of vehicles with splotches of body putty and primer. He took a look and quoted me $275, lower than our deductible so we won't be filing an insurance claim. (I didn't think we would.) Anyway, we went into his office for a business card so he could scribble the estimate and I'd have his number and the office is papered in Ford Model A posters, so I admired them and found a picture of the family Model A on one and pointed it out. He showed me a picture of him and his bride getting into his '31 Coupe on their wedding day. *sigh* Then he led me into his shop where he has a few in pieces. Oh, mama, now those are cars. One of them's a wooden bed truck (looks like a buckboard) with wood-spoke wheels and a wooden steering wheel that he's restoring for a woman. That might not be a Model A but it sure is going to be pretty when it's done. I knew I had the right place, not only was it in a shady part of town, had parts of vehicles in the yard, and others in various stages of repair, the guy's a Model A guy. Score! I'll be calling later today to set up an appointment.
Last night there was a full moon shining down through the gauzy clouds and still leafless trees when I hauled out the garbage. It's called either the Grass Moon or the Planting Moon. I pick Grass Moon so maybe it's rays will help my grass seed grow. *fingers crossed*
I downloaded SpyBot (the free one) last night to augment my regular, paid-for antivirus program since my email got hacked last week (password is changed, all should be well) and in the first scan it found 199 things that needed deleting. One-hundred-ninety-nine! I scanned again this morning since our computer guy friend said you should always restart your computer after a scan and rescan since some baddies can hide behind other baddies--and it found 59 more. I'm tempted to scan again and again and again until it comes up with zero--but I probably won't. Okay, maybe one more time. I should have spent the money for a Mac since they're not virus targets as much but I hear from VJ that that's changing. Ah well, such is life in the computer age.
May 14--Persian-made for Turkey, Dagger with Scabbard. Karen had never seen anything like it. The jeweled hilt of an 18th century dagger was jutting from the center of the woman's chest. The jewels sparkled in the lights from the squad cars blocking either end of the alley, in marked contrast to the rat-infested and garbage-choked crime scene. Karen was surprised that the teens who discovered the body hadn't made off with the murder weapon. She hadn't thought kids from this part of the city were squeamish about anything but the pair of young men talking to her partner Levine kept their eyes averted and both looked ready to faint or puke. The strobe flashes from Thorn's crime scene photos lit up the alley in jagged sections reminding her of the avant garde, art house movies her university boyfriend had been so fond of. The odd camera angles and jerky cuts had made her feel motion sick at times. She stood up, hearing her knees pop and not liking it. Now was not the time for nostalgia.
Time to get a move on. I think I'll put blueberries on my cereal today. I know, I'm a wild woman, I'm just so glad that it's sunny I don't really mind that it's a little chillier. I have a cotton sweater that'll do just fine today. Hasta la vista, babies.
--Barbara
We were sitting at the table just about an hour ago and Durwood looked up and said, "Oriole!" Sure enough, there he was. On Sunday I put out the oriole feeder that Mr. & Mrs. Boss gave me for Christmas a few years back and was thinking that yesterday's 1.5" of rain had made the grape jelly into grape soup so it probably needed draining, but there he was eating on the orange, he tried out the hummingbird feeder, and then when he went back to the orange a female (or what we think's a female, it doesn't look like the picture in the bird book [turns out it's a first-year male Orchard Oriole; according to the book they're expanding their northern range. cool, huh?]) appeared on the jelly. Hot diggity, orioles!
LC is exploring the lower ranges of her voice this week so there's a 4 month old lying here growling at Alfred the stuffed gorilla and playing with a ring of plastic keys. Very amusing. Watching her grow and change is way better than a movie. I can't wait until she talks, I just know she's going to have a lot to say.
I finished up crocheting May Men's Chemo Hat #1 at work yesterday and made some progress on an Elephant pacifier clip for the growling baby. I know it doesn't look very elephant-y but this is the yarn I have on hand and it'll look better with a trunk and ears, I promise.
May 13--Julia Margaret Cameron, Julia Jackson. The face stared up from the still pond surface. Her hair, fine as spider silk, flew wild in the small breeze. The pine trees stood sentinel whispering among themselves and the wild grapes smelled so sweet she could taste them. Minerva stared at her reflection ticking off everything wrong with her looks, starting with her unruly hair. Her eyes were too big and round, her brows too assertive. Her nose was straight and thin, like a knife blade in the center of her face, and her mouth was too small and turned down at the corners. She reached out and swept her hand across the pond surface as if to erase her image and flung herself down in the tall reeds. She heard Cale and Nora laughing in the orchard but she didn't respond when they called her name. She knew they would soon move on to other amusements and forget about her.
It's another dreary day today so I think I'll sit under the "daylight" lamp and pretend I'm at the beach. Even a rocky beach would be better than the drear. Or maybe I'll watch for more orioles. You enjoy your Tuesday.
--Barbara
We were invited over to DS & DIL1's for Mother's Day supper yesterday so I took the huge bag of peels, etc. we'd saved for the chickens and they were very appreciative. They loved the kohlrabi leaves and brussels sprouts trimmings but the blueberries were the primo food. They chased those little berries and each other to get every one.
The people food was primo too--grilled lamb chops, oven roasted rosemary potatoes, fresh steamed broccoli, spinach and strawberry salad, and a little ice cream sundae for dessert. Yum. It was the first time I've ever had lamb chops and I'm a fan. More, please.
At my place at the table was this gorgeous yellow and white bouquet, so springy, so just right. And I confess I hogged all the LC snuggles and only reluctantly gave her back to her mama so she could have her own supper and go night-night. *sigh* I know I'm awful but I could sit and hold her all the time, she's so soft and warm and she's got personality to burn. Right now she's usually got most of both hands in her mouth and she's "la-la-la"-ing to beat the band. This girl's got a lot to say. Ooh, I could just eat her up.
This morning a little thunderstorm and rain woke me about 5:30 and when I went out to get the paper a couple more tulips have bloomed. I'm not usually a pink fan but, oh my, I'll make an exception in this case.
May 12--Eastern Central Asia, Tapestry with Dragons and Flowers. Eleanor looked up from her book. She thought she had seen the wall hanging flutter but it couldn't have. The door and windows were closed. The furnace wasn't on, was it? She cocked her head to listen... no, the furnace wasn't on. The fireplace in the day room had been bricked up years ago so there couldn't have been a draft from there. She shook her head and went back to reading, but then she saw the hanging move again. This time she was sure of it. She put her book down and picked up the fireplace poker. Some practical joker was going to be sorry.
And it's off to work I am on this rainy day. If it'd storm all day I wouldn't mind. I like the crash bang boom of a good thunderstorm. Ta-ta!
--Barbara
I carried up the hummingbird feeders last week so Durwood could clean them and make "birdie juice" to put in them because according to the Hummingbird Migration Map the Ruby-throated Hummingbirds were getting nearer, even though we usually don't see them until the honeysuckle's blooming and it's barely making leaves much less flowers. What with one thing and another he didn't get it done until yesterday so this morning I got one hung out. It was so gorgeous out that I ate my Cheerios out here, read the paper out here, and now I'm blogging out here. I may just spend the entire day on the patio. Except when I go to Aldi for fruit and grape jelly to get the oriole feeder up and running.
Not an hour after I hung up the feeder I heard a loud buzzing and looked up to see a hummingbird having a sip. Of course I couldn't get the camera up and running in time to take its picture but there he was already. !!!!! OMG, that was the coolest thing to look up and see that tiny bird sipping away at the nectar so soon. Yay! Hooray! The backyard is alive today. There's a male English Sparrow trying to impress a little drab female with his mating dance... nope, she shut him down and he flew off. There's a Cardinal up in the apple tree, calling away. There are flirting chipmunks racing along the top of the retaining wall. There's a trio of male Goldfinches doing their darnedest to impress a female who's not having any of it. And there's one squirrel doing its best to eat all of the corn I put out yesterday. Tsk, what a pig. I may just spend the rest of the day out here chronicling the antics of our feathered and furry pals. Maybe the hummingbird will come back and I can get its picture. Or even just see it again.
You can see how much waiting room time I've been putting in lately by how big Car Knitting Warshrag #7 is getting. I think I went overboard on the matchy-matchy this time. Maybe next time I'll pick blind, one from the solids and one from the variegates. That should be exciting, don't you think?
May 11--Thomas Sully, Mother and Son. I've always hated that simpering woman and her angelic child in the painting in Aunt Tillie's upstairs hall. My sister Clea thinks it's "so romantic." Ugh, romantic it is not. Romantic is a knight saving a maiden from a dragon or a boy kissing a girl under an apple tree. Some lady with weird hair and a boy in a dress is not romantic. I always suspected that Aunt Tillie hung the painting in the upstairs hall so she didn't have to look at it much. Aunt Tillie is a curious woman, curious about everything, I mean. She has traveled all over the world. She rode horses with Cossacks, climbed mountains with Sherpas, paddled an canoe in the Orinoco River with the Yanamamo, and explored the pyramids in Egypt with an archaeologist from the British Museum. No way does she like that sappy painting.
I've got my sprinkler going on the front yard for the grass seed I spread yesterday and I'm almost dressed. Now that both DD and DS have called I feel safe going to Aldi for fruit and jelly. Happy Mother's Day!
--Barbara
