Dream Hangover

For three nights in a row, I’ve had dreams about my dad.  I usually remember more about him in the summertime anyway, but he’s been gone 19 years now, so dreams don’t come so often.

When I woke up this morning, the sun was already shining bright on the door of the closet.  I couldn’t believe it was so late.  I remember Husband getting dressed for work, and asking what day is it.  That would have been about 7am.  Next thing I know, the clock says twenty minutes til nine, and I didn’t believe it so I called the Time/Temperature lady and her automated voice said 8:43.

My mind is jumbled mess right now.
This doesn’t bode well for the day’s interactions.

the day outside is bright with sunshine
the bird calls are often and cheerful

I hope these are enough to send off what lingers from fitful sleep.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Thinking | 2 Comments

Hats worked on half inch pegs looms

My new round knitting looms from CinDWood Crafts arrived awhile back.
We have e-mailed back and forth a few times, which is one of the benefits of buying from the owner/worker.

I am liking alot my new things.
The half inch spaces for the pegs makes so much a nicer, tighter, warmer stitch, using a single strand of 4-ply yarn. 

When Lucas was home the 4th of July, he mentioned that he didn’t know I was still in contact with so many babies.
I explained that I work most of the hats as a charity project involved with the Needlework Group.
The kid is definitely growing into his own life and interests.

This little hat has become a favorite.  I brought home a little bitty ball of pretty donated yarn, thinking it would be able to make a full hat.  On the plastic loom, it might have.
As I was knitting along, I realized I was gonna run out of the nice color, so I went into my own bin of little balls of yarn to find a match.  There was one small rolled ball left from a baby blanket of a boy who is now in college.  Don’t ask me why my brain retains such silly details, but I keep quirks about yarn.

Note how it just fits over the wide-mouth jar.  The booklet says this loom makes hats which fit a baby age 1 to 4 months old.

One of my pals at the Group crocheted a nice scarf of red/white/green yarn.  She asked if I could make a hat using the rest of the same skein.
As I mentioned, the closer spaced pegs make a tighter stitch, so more yarn is needed.
I worked in some white and some red for a full-size hat.
The spiral effect is purely a serendipity.

These will go to the Donation Box in our group’s storeroom.
from there, social workers send them on to the needy

Next project is potholders and bookmarks for our church rummage sale.
Well, maybe not bookmarks.  After looking at my lists and pictures, I realized the reason my head seemed so cloudy with tiny stitches is because I had crocheted 39 bookmarks in 32 days.

My new knitting looms came at the right time to take a different path.

This afternoon, I drive over to help Lucas with errands.
He is not supposed to take his cat on the bus, so I offered to chauffeur a visit to the Vet for shots.

Keeping busy this summer, fer sher.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Crochet | 4 Comments

All that for Naught

A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects. —Robert Heinlein

In the last few days, I’ve had reasons to travel across Main Street and going north a bit to the local Walgreen’s.
This is a distance of about 6/10ths of a mile, so I figure it’s just as easy to walk on sidewalk as it is to pace the treadmill.
The tendons in my left foot say otherwise.

During today’s walk home, I came upon the scene in the picture. click on it for a broader view

I looked behind me, nobody was coming along the sidewalk, so I took my camera out of my bag, squatted down and got a couple shots.
That poor worm must have gotten lost during the rain this morning.
The ants were ecstatic about their find.
I can just imagine the foreman barking orders.

I looked up to see a jogger on his way, so I had to stand up and move aside.

As he passed, his running shoe came down right in the middle of the area the ants were working in.

I didn’t have the heart stomach to take a picture of the devastation.

Ain’t I blessed to have time to watch ants on a worm?

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Personal | 2 Comments

Quiet Fourth of July

The sound of firecrackers is still coming every now and then, but I do believe the celebration of our nation’s birthday is winding down.

Lucas came home yesterday, and Chris came by bicycle today.  We took it easy, just the four of us.

Salmon fillets on the grill, some good garlic bread, veges, fettucini noodles.

Husband did some bicycle repairs on the patio, I worked two baby hats on my loom, the brothers pestered each other and petted cats.

I loaded the dishwasher here and pressed all the buttons.

Then it was time for Chris to go, and we drove Lucas back down the interstate.

While some more bicycle repairs happened in the parking lot of the apartment house, I washed dishes by hand in Lucas’s kitchen.
How the kid left overnight with stuff all over the counters I can’t imagine.  He certainly did not get my attitude to never give bugs a reason to be around the food of people.

He was passing through at some point and said he “heartily approves” my activity.

So the bicycles are ready to ride again, yet a different one is in the car now, needing to go up on the bench.

The drive home happened just as small town fireworks were going.

Such a beautiful sight, different directions across the prairie.

Time for bed now.  The end of a lovely summer day.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Family | 1 Comment

Not so good, first thing in the morning

My day began at 6:20 in the morning, barely passed sun-up when Mahalia decided she wanted to play.  There are times when I wish son Christopher’s apartment allowed pets.
The girl cat likes him best.
She slept on his bed until he moved out, but now she won’t even go into the room.  The bed is still there, it should smell like Chris because he took a nap there the other afternoon, but NO, the fur ball insists that I get out of bed at some gawdawful hour on a holiday.

Ahem.  Anyway, I did get up, took my sweet time getting water for my medicine and then to fill the teapot.

By then, both cats were protesting mightily that I should get down to the task of putting the wet food into the proper bowls Hhrrumpft.

I decided to get some peace and go out to sit on the back steps whilst they munched.  Soon enough, one or the other would paw the door to be let out.

What did I spy about six feet from the end of the driveway?
A squirrel’s tail set at an awkward angle, ablowin’ in the breeze.

Still in my bathrobe, I went over to investigate.
And there was the squirrel who lived in the maple tree with the back half of his little body squashed flat.
Fairly fresh, the blood hadn’t dried yet, but there was no doubt he was dead.

I knew it was the same squirrel because he had a darker brown patch on his right hip.  The mailman and I had him so tame he would come up close and grab a bit of cookie from our hands.
One time, he even accosted Chris’s girlfriend as she came up the walk.  I had to hurry out with a bit of bread to appease him.

I debated about what to do.  I didn’t want to dig a grave, Husband sets the lawnmower to mulch, so getting down to dirt takes quite a bit of effort.
One more poor little dead squirrel in the middle of the road shouldn’t cause so much thinking.

I decided to just fetch a garbage bag and put him in the trash.

I must admit, I said a small prayer for the little guy.

I will surely miss him.  And I’ll bet the mailman won’t have nearly as much entertainment next time he parks his truck in the shade of the maple tree.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Thinking | 2 Comments

Oscar in a Box

Friday, I opened the last ream of paper from the box.

Saturday while I was at S*Ms Club,
I bought a new box of printer paper, then Husband carried it into the house for me.

Oscar doesn’t want me to put the old box into the re-cycle bin just yet.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Family | 3 Comments

A Prize is in the Mail

Oh Boy Oh Boy Oh Boy! ! !

A message in my Inbox has informed me that I have won the Coffee Talk mug for the month of June from the comic For Better or For Worse website’s Spill Your Beans column.

My comment was posted the morning of June 30, so I musta got in just a wee bit under the time limit.

So blessed when something I already covet comes my way.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

Posted in Personal | 2 Comments

One Song I Remember

It’s the last day of June when I think of this song
from the Summer of 1976 when I was driving back and forth
to the community college for LPN school

Summer (the First Time)
Bobby Goldsboro

It was a hot afternoon

Last day of June

And the sun was a demon

The clouds were afraid

One-ten in the shade

And the pavement was steaming

I told Billy-Ray

In his red Chevrolet

I needed time for some thinking

I was just walking by

When I looked in her eye

And I swore it was winking

She was 31 and I was 17

I knew nothing about love

She knew everything

And I sat down beside her on the front porch swing

And wondered what the coming night would bring

The sun closed her eyes

As it climbed in the sky

And it started to swelter

The sweat trickled down the front of her gown

And I thought it would melt her

She threw back her hair

Like I wasn’t there

And she sipped on a julep

Her shoulders were bare

And I tried not to stare

When I looked at her two lips.

And when she looked at me

I heard her softly say

I know you’re young

You don’t know what to do or say

But stay with me until the sun has gone away

And I will chase the boy in you away

And then she smiled and we talked for a while

And we walked for a mile to the sea

We sat on the sand, and a boy took her hand

But I saw the sun rise as a man

Ten years have gone by

Since I looked in her eye

But the memory lingers

I go back in my mind

To the very first time

And feel the touch of her fingers

It was a hot afternoon

Last day of June

And the sun was a demon

The clouds were afraid

One-ten in the shade

And the pavement was steaming…

Iffen you want to hear Bobby Goldsboro on You Tube

Summer (the First Time)

this song is not at all in line with current society’s way of thinking

but it sure brings back memories of myself at age 20

~~love and Huggs, Diane

 

Posted in Reviews | 1 Comment

Letting the downspout do its job

My new wooden knitting loom kit came this morning.

If you go to CinDWood crafts dot com you can see where I bought them from.  I’m real tired of getting spam from craft sites, so I won’t link you directly.
And there is a story behind how I got the looms, so I’ll try to remember to write about it.
My Yarn Group is already in-the-know of the tale about how sweet is my husband.

Anyway, I had to be on my way to the dentist (routine cleaning, no new troubles) so I did a quick open the package and drool.

After my appointment and a couple errands on that side of town, I came home, had a sandwich for lunch, and told myself to do at least one chore before I could sit down and enjoy my new item.

The ironing was only 2 shirts, 4 boxer shorts, and a pillowcase, so get it done I did!

Then I went to my yarn box and chose a pretty color for a baby hat.

I carried my little table out to the back porch, unfolded my chair.

The cats got into their positions for snoozing.

I came back inside, made an iced latte in the blender, using a powdered mix.

Out there again, I began looping yarn and knitting off.

Oh this is fun!

I looked up every once in awhile watching dark clouds moving in.

The city-owned waterpark up the street made an announcement to clear the pool, and everyone must go inside the locker rooms.  The loudspeaker must have been attached at a different spot because, from this distance, I haven’t understood the words for years.

Lightning hit pretty close, and I heard silence from the house telling me the power was off.

Oscar wanted inside.  Poor kitty does not like storms at all.

As I opened the door, the power flickered, came back on.

The rain dumped heavy.  Prairie gully-washer.

I peeked over at the garage gutters.

A waterfall over the side, nothing coming out the downspout at all.

The rain slacked off soon enough.
The clouds were just having a breather.

While it was quiet, I went into the garage and got the ladder.

I got it all stable near the corner of the garage and downspout, then carefully climbed the three steps needed to see over the edge of the gutter.

As soon as I pulled a stick out of the opening, water and bits of leaves and maple seeds began running out the bottom and across the driveway.

I got down and up the ladder, about four times, clearing debris from the edge of the roof of the garage.

At one point I was turning to move the ladder, and there stood a girl in a bright blue rain poncho about 3 feet away.

She hadn’t said a word, and I did not see her come up the walk.

Startled me so that I knocked my watch against the side of the metal ladder.

Her first words were “Do you want me to do that?”

Now why would I want an unpaid stranger climbing up and down a ladder next to my garage on a rainy afternoon?

My standard reply, “No, Thank You, my doctor says I need more exercise.”

I climbed up and grabbed some more gunk out of the gutter.

Turning to let go of it, I realized she was standing right where I wanted to drop the stuff.

I said “Excuse me, something else needs to go into that spot”

She moved over towards the steps.

As I let the stuff fall, I asked what she is selling.

From under her poncho she pulled an ID tag for a company, and an order form for magazines.

She began her spiel about how getting enough orders will win her a trip to the Bahamas.

I looked down at her, more compost in my hand.

I said I don’t order magazines anymore, I get news from the Internet.

She went on a bit longer with a speech that must have been hammered in by a company rep and then she practiced for an hour in front of the mirror.

As I moved the ladder once again, she began a whine.

“Aren’t you going to help me win the trip?”

Well, golly gosh, kid, I was a pre-school teacher for years, so that tone of voice ain’t gonna get me to soften up any.
Especially coming from somebody who is walking door-to-door now to be able to frolic on the beach on Spring Break.

As I climbed the ladder for what I hoped to be the last time (looking at the flow from the downspout, yeah, I was almost done), I told her she was wasting her time here.

After a very dramatic sigh, she went on her way along our very quiet during the day because there are working people who live here street.

It’s a racket, what happens to young workers.
They get plunked down in some strange town so they don’t know what else to do but their jobs.
Reminds me of Mormon Missionaries.

She did offer to do some hands-on work, but I’m getting a bit jaded in my old age, so I sent her on her way.

And now, I’m going back to my loom and yarn.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

 

 

Posted in Thinking | 2 Comments

Paper Mail going out

All this typing for the Interwebs is great most of the time.

Today, there is a nice pile of stuffed envelopes on the table behind me.

All kinds of correspondence, ranging from birthday, to thank you, get well, and then just a plain old Thinking of You.

Sometimes I like to walk over to the shelf, pull down a box of greeting cards, sort through, choose one, sign my name (and sometimes my husband’s), tuck in a little something (most often is crocheted bookmark and stickers),
address the envelope, stamp the envelope, stick postage on the right corner, stick return label on the other corner, put everything together, lick the flap, seal it shut, smoothe it out, then sit there looking at the completion of all that activity.

And to write about it.  Talk about blog fodder.

Some will be going to the cubbies at the church building.

With the rest, I’ll have a good reason to get on my bicycle this afternoon to take ‘em to the blue box a mile away.

Yes indeedy.  After awhile, some folks will get something besides catalogs and charity requests at their houses.

I hope they feel as nice on the receiving end as I have as much fun getting it going.

~~love and Huggs, Diane
ps It may not be your turn to get a lovey from me.  Don’t fret, another day comes.

Posted in Personal | Comments Off on Paper Mail going out