Take Joy!

Amaryllis

We had several this year; they're nearly stopped blooming, but we have enjoyed them for weeks. I think we'll try to get them to bloom again next year. I have some directions, somewhere, on how to hold them over the summer.

And now to work—I must get John up to deliver cookies, I need to mail the rest of the month's bills (which requires a trip to the post office to buy stamps; I thought I had some left, but I can't find them, so I guess not) and go to the grocery store to pick up a few things I forgot on Wednesday (and get another gallon of milk; snow is forecast for next week), and go to the fabric store in search of Jiffy-Grip to make bedroom slippers.

Hope Springeth Eternal

 . . . or so says Ocie, lying in wait underneath the bird feeders. The birds, however, are far too cautious to visit—besides, there are other feeders on the other side of the yard, and no cats underneath. But it's nice sitting in the sun anyway . . .

More happenings (or not-happenings, as in this case) on The Friday Ark—do visit!

Today's Visitor

In the backyard—he (or she, perhaps) is, we think, a juvenile Cooper's Hawk. I spotted him first in the weeping cherry, just outside my workroom window. He was chasing a couple of cardinals around in the cherry tree (which is why I say juvenile; he didn't appear to have a firm grasp on a way to catch them). Photography through the window proved unsatisfactory (I have really got to get on the ladder and wash the outsides of my windows this year!), so I snuck out the back door and managed to catch him in the black walnut before he flew off.

John has seen an adult working this area recently, too. Now I know why we seem to have fewer chickens than we used to—really, when you have over three or four dozen and they free-range, it's almost impossible to get a head count. I just go by the number of eggs, which has declined precipitously in the past week or two, but we've had some very, very cold weather (for us). Maybe it's not just the weather.

But isn't he beautiful? You should have seen him in flight. I should probably be upset that he (and his parental unit) have taken some chickens, but I don't seem to be able to. I always have more sympathy for the predators (raptors, wolves, bears, big cats) than I do for the prey. I wonder why that is?

Here he is high up in a dead locust—

Finished!

Here is John's sweater—the so-called Weekend Turtleneck. (Really, it easily be done in a weekend by someone with no arthritis and nothing else to do. I just wasn't either.) I began it in November and then put it away during the holidays; when I came back to it just after Christmas, I discovered that I had inexplicably made it several inches too wide, so I frogged it back to the ribbing and began again. Much better . . . I used Wool of the Andes Bulky in Redwood Forest, which was not the yarn called for by the designer (Drew Emborsky; this came from his latest book, Crochet Designs for Guys). I bought three extra skeins, and used two of them, so I still have enough left for a hat or something. I never could get gauge, so I simply gave up and went by the measurements in the pattern's schematic and that worked very nicely. (Details about yarn and pattern are here, on my Ravelry page.) It's a nice pattern; I enjoyed making it, though I did make one rather obvious change: since John wanted to wear it over a shirt, we decided not to make the turtleneck.

I may make another one, if I can find the proper yarn. John wants one in camouflage, for wandering in the woods, and I have been unsuccessful in finding a bulky yarn with a pattern we like. I made him a camouflage toboggan in Red Heart yarn and he liked the way it came out, but it's only a worsted weight, and acrylic to boot. Any suggestions, leave me a comment. (And it needs to be something relatively affordable, too, given the state of the communal purse these days . . . )

I Return, Once Again . . .

Sorry to have disappeared again, but it's not been a good winter so far. . . I managed to recoup after a disappointing holiday, and then John's mother had a car accident and spent the better part of a week in the hospital on the trauma floor. She totaled her car, broke her right arm and wrist, banged up her face/chin, fractured something in her right leg (the lower part; they apparently can't set it, so they're just watching it), and was generally shaken up. It's been a week since I saw her; she was beginning to look better, but she still couldn't wear her teeth. She's been moved to a nursing home now so she can have physical therapy. I think this probably finishes her driving (she's 86), and possibly her living alone. We'll have to see how she heals. Then I picked up something visiting her at the hospital, and got sick. SICK. I think it was just a bad cold, but I spent most of the last week in bed or the rocking chair. (Yes, I complained a lot. It made me feel better. Sort of.) And my gums are receding again, the way they always do when I get sick, so it's back to the saltwater-myrrh-comfrey-goldenseal mouthwash . . .

Bleah.

However, at least it's warmer. We got down to 5 one night last week! Not cold for some of y'all, but COLD for us. It never got above freezing for two or three days there . . . and not even any snow. Well, we did have a quarter-inch or so, but it melted that afternoon. (I personally feel that if I have to suffer through below-freezing temperatures, I ought to be rewarded with and inch or two of snow.) We lost two old hens, but everyone else was fine. Not much in the way of eggs, though . . .but it was nearly 60 a day ago, so maybe they'll start laying again soon.

Other than that, not much has been going on. I did finish John's sweater, though I have no picture yet. I was going to take one, but he's wearing it and has gone out to the Waffle House where there are no complaining wives. (Not his, anyway.)

I made this hat for my niece's new baby, who lives in Massachusetts and can use it this time of year.

The yarn is KnitPicks Imagination hand-dyed fingering-weight wool, colorway Gingerbread House.

And I finished this child-sized cloche with a crocheted flower.

Made from KnitPicks Palette fingering wool—I forget which colors, but they were a pink and a purple.

And I worked on this doll, for a Valentine's swap at Stitchin' Fingers

I'm using Julie McCullough's Snippets pattern, and having a good time with her. (Now that I've gotten back to work, that is . . . everything was put on hold while I was coughing all over. She has hair now, and I'm working on her dress. Finished this evening, I hope.)

I also crocheted Emma a scarf and hat out of the most blinding hot pink and lime green you've ever seen; it's a wonder I can still see after working with it. Of course I forgot to get a picture before I mailed them on Friday; perhaps Brian will take one for me . . .

And I read a bunch of trashy novels, the titles of which I am embarrassed to disclose. (However, one of them was "authored" by Fabio.) It's amazing what sickness will prompt us to do.

Silver

Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep;
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws and a silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.

—Walter de la Mare (1873-1956)

Tonight is the Wolf Moon; the full moon is in her home sign of Cancer, and she is at perigee—the closest the silver lady comes to us here on earth.

A Long Winter's Nap

It's been rainy/windy/snowy/cold (or some combination of the preceding, though in our particular case it was mostly rainy) for the past week and, combined with our usual winter laziness, we have been taking it easy. All of us . . .

So, what's going on over at The Friday Ark? Who knows? Maybe they aren't quite as lazy as we are. You could drop in and see for yourself. . .

bleah

Not feeling well today, at all (despite the new yarn)—my blood sugar is up, but I can never decided whether I feel bad because it's high, or it's high because I feel bad. Nonetheless, I think my primary New Year's intention must be to return to my diabetic diet and adhere more closely . . . let me give thanks that the holiday cookies are mostly gone, and that I didn't eat most of them.

I think we'll have salad for supper. Even if it did come in a bag from god knows how many miles away, I feel the need of green stuff. And radishes. Lots of radishes. And maybe a pepper—but probably not; the last time I looked, they were going for something like $2 apiece.

And lentil soup tomorrow—I like the looks of this recipe, and I have everything to make it, including a big jar of chicken broth from cooking the chicken for yesterday's chicken pie . . .

Yesterday—Happy New Year to Me!

It was very, very foggy yesterday—until nearly noon—but isn't it beautiful? We had intended to go downtown early, so as to snag a parking space (we were there Friday, but there were no spaces to be had, and the streets were filled with people crusing around looking for a space, so we came home posthaste); however, in view of the way people drive around here, we stayed home until it cleared off. But we found a space anyway.

I wore the amber earrings John gave me for Christmas, and my kickass new boots (finally! a pair of comfortable boots!), and we tromped around happily for a couple of hours.

We went to Earth Guild so I could get a bamboo crochet hook (I used to be able to find them at AC Moore or Michael's, but both places have been out for months. A harbinger of things to come, probably.), which I did, and we looked longingly at the spinning wheels, but there is just no room here for one. Plus, there are all these cats . . . I did, however, buy some yarn—a skein of Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride in Cafe Au Lait (this is a really lousy photo; the color is much warmer) and some Lanaloft (new from Brown Sheep) in Twilight. It's apparently the same as Lamb's Pride, but without the mohair. And I looked at inkle looms . . . I used to have one. Maybe if I dig into the quarter jar . . .


Then we went across the street to True Blue and looked at art supplies, and down the street to Malaprop's to look at books, and back up the street and around the corner to the car—but wait! There's a yarn shop! It was Purl's Yarn Emporium; it used to be on College and I hadn't realized it was now so close. She has all the yarn arranged by color, which makes my heart glad, because that's the way I see things. I poked around for a bit, fondling yarn, and finally bought two skeins of Artful Yarns Serenade, which is pima cotton and angora, and soft, soft. . . I haven't the faintest idea what I'll make, but it will be wonderful, I'm sure.
 
Then we went to Nancy's for not-good-for-you cheeseburgers and fries, and came home and fed everything and I worked some more on John's sweater. (I am nearly back to where I was in November.) I went to bed at ten-ish, and didn't get up this morning until after nine, so today I am feeling all decadent and slothful because I haven't done anything besides drink tea and drool over the new seed catalogues. (Well, yes I have—I changed the litter boxes. It had to be done.) I don't even have to cook supper; John is making chicken pie.

Tomorrow I'll do something productive.

The Aftermath