Now, where did I leave that?
Peony sighed. I’ve longed for a real piggy bank, but all I get is this ugly shoe. It isn’t even Jimmy Choo, and not worth saving pennies in!
Another Microfiction Monday, courtesy of Stony River.
Awoke to 3" of snow this morning--a gift of a day that I didn't know was a holiday from work until last Thursday. Although there's a cozy crockpot of "Dal Soup" (from a Weight Watchers cookbook) simmering away, a fire is dancing in the pellet stove, and I have Linda's socks and a newly started blanket for Patrick (um...next Christmas' gift) on knitting needles, I've realized this morning that I'm ready....ready for hands that aren't always freezing, for bright colors, farm market treasures, the scent of lilacs, green grass, lazy Sunday morning breakfasts on the back porch, the adventure in locavorism we're planning...in short, I'm ready for Spring. It may be several calendar weeks away, and several weeks beyond that in corporeal realities, but I'm ready, aren't you?
And speaking of Weight Watchers recipes, after some serious backsliding when they changed the WW plan and I hit my halfway point, am renewing my intent and determination to lose the remaining weight before Summer is in full force. I need to be in prime shape for all that planting and chicken-chasing!
Light echoed through Let’s Make a Deal empty doorways.
Souls flowed towards heaven’s radiant doors with
one united prayer-- “please open”.
Stony River: A Writing Life hosts Microfiction Monday, wherein one writes a piece of fiction of 140 characters or less, inspired by her picture of the week.
Please pop on over to read this post on Hudson Valley Roots...
She had promised to come right back, but that was hours ago. How embarrassing to be abandoned in the colorless Valley of Insipid Romantics.
Stony River: A Writing Life hosts Microfiction Monday, wherein one writes a piece of fiction of 140 characters or less, inspired by her picture of the week.
Yep...feeling a bit of swagger at my mastery of the Norwegian Cast-On, learned last night while Linda was off at her Beekeeper's meeting. Months ago bought a book on knitting socks, determined to give it a try. This in and of itself was remarkable bravery, given that using TWO needles keeps me challenged; 4 needles?! Each with TWO points?! Gasp! Thank Goddess for those little gnome caps that keep hard-won stitches safely where they belong. Anyway, although I'm happily working on Linda's crocheted throw, I've been longing to knit, and Linda would like a pair of handknit socks, so last night I pulled out that book (and Kids Knitting, which has been a lifesaver for this confidence-and-skill challenged beginning knitter), and began. It took three hours to learn the intricate dance that is the Norwegian cast-on, juggle all those needles, and knit 3, purl 1 the first three rows of cuff ribbing...but I actually enjoyed every minute!
Perhaps when one has had TWO snow days in one work week, ecstatic joy over the weekend arriving is over the top, but I don't care. Two whole days at home--yay! My plans? Continuing to work on Linda's crocheted throw, doing some knitting...ya know what? I MISS knitting! Crocheting is different, and since it's a basic pattern, pretty easy...but I miss the click of the needles, the way knitting's rhythm soothes me. So I need to have a knitting project going. And there are a whole lot of balls in assorted colors that would love to be felted. The spinning wheel, in her state of disarray and disassembly, has co-opted the whole kitchen table in a quiet, genteel, richly stained way. The path to her wholeness lies through a can of acrylic...so that's my top priority.
And there are couch snuggles with Yeti, playtime (and sneezy, itchy snuggles) with Elfkin. The former is ready for the snow to be gone (poor thing--there are two more snow 'events' forecasted, one tomorrow and one mid-week). Miss Elf has made herself very much at home. She's only confined to the office at night now, or when no one is home. When we're home she has the run (so to speak) of the downstairs, and has claimed a toasty corner of the livingroom rug near the pellet stove as her own. We're amazed to see her managing better with practice; the hardwood floors are challenging but when she gets up a head of steam she can make it all the way through the kitchen without flopping over. A heavier food bowl has cut way back on the spilled kibble, and for a cat who uses her litter box laying down, she keeps herself very clean. One reads and hears that cats with CH (cerebellar hypoplasia) are very sweet-natured, and it seems to be very true. She's a loving, affectionate little sweetie who comes to greet me every morning and when I come home. She wants to be carried around in the morning while coffee is poured and sits on my lap as I read the morning news and emails online. She naps in my arms many evenings, waking drowsily to watch us or bat at a feather toy before dozing again. She's a playful little girl who never met a ball she didn't like. She met one of the other girls--Dottie--unexpectedly, and it went reasonably well. Yeti is so careful around Elf, if a tad jealous; we make sure Yeti gets extra love and affection!
And of course...a few precious hours with my beloved during the weekend is icing on the cake. Hope your weekend is just as delightful.
And thus is born a new blog...Hudson Valley Roots. It's not meant to replace this blog. It's a subject that--literally and figuratively--has its own roots that need room to spread. It needs space of its own to grow and bear fruit. So please visit it often, comment and share liberally. One can't formally 'follow' it yet...I'm researching that, but you can still bookmark it and pass the site address on to others. As the seasons progress, so will the content. See you there!
It's the first day of February, Imbolc, the day before Groundhog Day. The back porch has a foot of unmelted snow, the top few inches of which have fallen since 3:00 am. Dire forecasts tell us that a larger storm is hurtling towards us; before all is said and done, we may see another foot piled on top. Poor Yeti has forgotten what it's like not to be knee-deep in snow, and the older tribe of cats--Dottie, Mots & Susie--haven't set foot outside in weeks.
Today is a snow day from work, and it looks like tomorrow will be as well. The pellet stove is toasting the livingroom; the oven is baking a snow day casserole; Linda is mere feet away, busy with work and sundry projects; Elf is dozing in her cube while Yeti wanders between warm fire and less warm but more occupied office. The newly refilled bird feeders are hosting two pairs of cardinals, blue jays, chickadees, assorted woodpeckers, juncos, titmice, doves, nuthatches and a wayward starling. A beeswax votive is flickering on the altar in honor of Brighid, whose feast began at sundown last night. And I am faced with an embarrassment of riches, too many choices of how to spend this gift of a day. I can wallow in the book I'm engrossed in--Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver& family, which I discovered when researching for the new blog launching shortly (Hudson Valley Roots); I usually fall asleep when trying to read in bed, so the chance to taste and linger over the words while fully awake is a luxury. There are clouds of wool and yarn whispering for me to come play with them...Linda's old-fashioned crocheted throw needs to be completed; jingle bell balls want to be felted; the book on knitting socks is luring me, promising to be gentle for my first time; the spinning wheel, whose pieces were so exquisitely stained by Linda, now needs to be lacquered so it can be assembled and put to work. And there's the new blog, which is taking shape in my head but only slowly being birthed in cyber-reality. As Linda says...decisions, decisions....
