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This year’s fruit crop has been very disappointing. Strawberries were delayed by the cold, damp spring. And they came on while I was out of town. Apricots and sour cherries – pretty much the same - but they seemed to dry up, withered on the trees. The very few cherries that started to turn red - and all the currants, red, white and black - were eaten by birds before they fully ripened. The apricots never turned yellow. We’re hoping a few peaches will continue to hang on to the tree long enough for this warmer weather to finally ripen them
I know exactly what I would like to wear to the The Vermont Wedding next month. And for the “festive attire requested” shindig the night before. Tea length, short sleeves, soft color, flowing. Can I find it? Not at all. And most particularly, not in my side. White and black are right out as color options, yet they compriss easily 50% of the options I’ve found. Choosing short sleeves (not long, not sleeveless) – takes away more than 50% of the remaining options. And let’s not even talk about polyester. How the world has changed from 1960’s crisp, natural fiber dresses.
This headache is on repeat. I left work before It could fully explode and spent several hours not looking at screens. I will pay one way or another, so I’d rather pay without being in pain. I don’t quite know what is at the root of these headaches, is it a migraine or is it sinus? I am tired of being quiet, in the dark, doing nothing. It is a virtual prison, one that follows me wherever I go. It is time to nuke it from orbit and get it gone, even if it kills the rest of the day.
Independence day is an awkward holiday: a single day, traveling through the week. It is fine when connected to a weekend (although the fireworks become tiresome after a while, especially with cats that freak out with the sound) – but a single day in the middle of the week sucks, especially when you don’t have enough vacation time to take the rest of the week off. We opted for a very simple holiday this year, barely acknowledging the holiday. I wish there was someplace we could see fireworks, without having to park a mile away and listen to everyone else chatter.
Lounging in the pool, we spotted the hawks circling around the property – parent and youngling. They were cruising, testing, investigating, before they soared off into the distance. Watching them cavort is much better than the stinking sea planes, helicopters and other aircraft that shuttle back and forth overhead. The nest is somewhere a few houses away; we often see and hear them. We also see –but never hear—the small bunny that lives in our yard. Or near us. He (she?) is growing quickly, no longer just a handful but two handfuls. Hopefully the wildlife can continue to peacefully co-exist.
It wasn’t even on my radar. I was just concerned with getting the description in the book so that more people would learn about the program. And maybe we’d get some additional traffic as a result. The fact that there was a winner in each category literally never registered with me as I was writing the submission. It wasn’t until I got the email stating that my submission had won that I realized they were judging the entries. This should make a positive impact for the commercialization effort right? But does this mean that I’m going to Portland next month?
Pajama day? Pyjama day? However you want to spell it, sign me up. I can’t take the whole day completely off, but if the long list of planned chores and productivity is trimmed to the minimum, I can lounge most of the day. Be quiet. Comfortable. Knit. Watch girly tv. I am exhausted by the headaches earlier this week, and would really like to take a week off, but that’s not going to happen. I need to figure out how to recharge over the weekend so that I can make it through another week. So a pajama day it is.
It was a punch to the gut to see that the advance tickets to the “David Bowie is” show at TBM were completely sold out. I was out of town for most of the first half of its run and forgot about it for the first two weeks I was back at home, trying to get the kitchen reno finished. Then weekends were spent unpacking the POD. I don’t have the physical reserves to go and stand in line for hours in the last two weekends of the show, and I’m not able to take time off right now. Damn.
It is clear from the start that the students don’t want to be here and they have zero interest in the workshop., And the reasons for that become clear when we learn that the administrator forced these students to attend. They are teenagers who signed up to be counselors in training, to spend time with the little kids. Instead they’re inside with adults who want them to think about future career choices. It is beyond reasonable thinking that the administrator (not the headmistress?) considered for a second this plan would be acceptable to anyone. Is there any salvaging this situation?
I baked fully from scratch in the new kitchen for the first time today. Simple, blueberry muffins. And it was a simple, easy process. I put all the baking essential ingredients into the low, pull out drawer, which makes it very easy to access everything. There’s more room to work than I’ve ever had in a kitchen – I measured and mixed everything right there at the hutch and portioned up everything on the table behind me. And because there was room for everything, there was no cursing. I think the muffins were slightly overbaked in the end, but quite tasty.
Standing at the kitchen sink, looking out into the evening, I see the fireflies in the back yard. I really have a view onto them – and they pop against the dark screen of trees just beyond the fence. They dance just outside the window, and I can see a few who have moved up the chain, literally, beginning their light show well above the top of the fence. Why is it that I saw more fireflies, or more of them at the old house? We don’t spend time on the porch here, but now it is disgusting after the renovation.
The daily exercise has fallen by the wayside. I no longer reflect on significant events, or small moments of peace and beauty, but the words have become a dumping ground diary. That is not what I want to do, even if my increasingly less reliable memory suggests that a diary isn’t a bad idea. I don’t want to post that type of narrative in a public forum. I though the recorder on my phone would help, but it hasn’t. To be fair, I’ve hardly used it. I don’t want to get up earlier, but morning is the time to write.
I've always hated clothes shopping. I never find what I want, in the color I want, in my size. I think that's why I started making my own clothes in what, seventh grade? Of course my body was much easier to fit into standard size clothing then. I've spent days well evenings anyway going to page after page of women's dresses looking for something that makes me happy. in the end I've decided to wear my wedding dress to the fancy Friday shinding at TVM. It is silk, purple, it fits, and it is one of a kind, handmade couture.
I couldn't believe my eyes pink gooseberries and red currents at the grocery store. No such fruits appeared from my garden this year the gooseberry have still done nothing and this is your three I believe I had wanted to do something simple to make them into something in order to provide enough background I'm self wanted a simple calm She go over the lemon ginger lemon frozen yogurt so I made a camp out I'm not sure there's enough sugar in the world to make rock current and gooseberries and raspberries sweet enough for a ginger lemon frozen yogurt.
The house was damaged by fire what, 4 years ago? slowly over the course of two or three years the house was rebuilt. It went on the market for an astonishing sum a few days ago and we decided to go take a look. Nothing special but upstairs were two bedrooms separated by a bathroom, like in our house, but smaller than ours. The backyard certainly seems smaller and the pool is an absolute mess. The kitchen is absolutely smaller but the downstairs basement fully finished. We’ll watch to see at what price it sells, and how long that takes.
Waking up at 2:22 AM was not in my plan. Waking up again and again and again before the alarm went off at 6:30 was absolutely not planned nor desired. I hit snooze a couple times and at 6:43 finally rolled out of bed. Why is it that I am not sleeping again? I feel so tired. I felt so tired last night before going to bed. I feel like I have been running a marathon for days. But maybe in fact that's what I have been doing: just not marathon anyone else would recognize. With no end in sight.
The dresses are way the fuck too long. They are sized for someone who is 5’10” and wearing 3” heels! Since I cannot wear heels (let’s not even discuss my current footwear options for The Vermont Wedding) and I straddle the edge of Petite, that’s about 7” too long. If I even wanted a floor length dress, which I don’t. The High-Low dress is floor length with a train behind me. The other dress, while light and flowy, is not cut right for me. So, back to the drawing board. And just hope there’s time to do what I want.
The flight to Portland it's more than five hours nearly six. It is more than six on the return trip. Of course having left things so late, I don't have a lot of choice for the ticket and seats. I don't have enough miles to do an upgrade for a trip this long so I can’t get a ticket the company would pay for and then upgrade with miles. The remaining choice is to separately purchase my upgrade so that I can travel better than Main Cabin and survive the flight and still be functional after landing. First world problems.
When mom wrote dad was out to radio of the monthly radio club meeting tonight I was delighted. First that he was going out to an event I know he sometimes has skipped in the past. Also, that he was driving at night and everyone was happy and comfortable with that. The other incredibly welcome bit of good news was they’re discussing reinstating Thursday night radio boys at the house. It is a clear sign that dad, and their life is returning to a normal state. I caught a glimpse of the moon in the kitchen window, and gave thanks.
I started writing the paper very late, never quite had a clear idea of what it was really about, despite all the discussions with the consultant. I emailed Boss Lady the draft for review but on Friday, at 2 PM, she finally started her review – and at 4 PM we called it dead. Three days of staying up late, wedging in time during the day, to no end. I had a lot invested in the paper, but I’m not prepared to ruin one of my few summer weekends for it. Friday has already been ruined. No Berlin for me now.
I know I have not weeded the flowerbeds since the beginning of April, but I am stunned by the size of the weeds. On some, the stems were nearly 2 inches in diameter. I filled five of the garden lawn bags and hauled them here to the street under the shelter of large trees to wait out the impending rain. I filled the bags in only two hours. I still have three major sections of the front garden beds to clean out. That will be this weekend’s entertainment. I don't think I'll be weeding during the hazy hot humid week.
I've ordered a custom dress online for the wedding itself, a pale cabbage rose print dress. It is the epitome of a summer wedding dress. I've also ordered a gold lame shawl and an evening bag from the 1950s also with metallic thread. And sandals from my favorite brand so I can get through the evening, especially walking across the farm, like to get to the bathroom. The only thing left is to figure out jewelry for the Friday night shindig. Maybe get some flowers for my hat. And just hope it all arrives in time – and that everything fits.
I love the glow of moonstones. No surprise that purple stones like amethyst and tanzanite are also among my favorites. And the creamy shimmer of pearls and fire opals also make me very happy. Most of my current jewelry is based around these stones. They’d all look beautiful with my purple wedding dress but I need a very specific shape and length. I found some gorgeous necklaces that are just not right or for the dress. There are one or two beautiful pieces that I really am smitten with, but they are just too expensive for my broken bank account.
I am going in the pool several times a week. It is very definitely helping my leg and my foot even though I’m not swimming. I'm not just dangling down, I am doing exercises. I am moving the leg and ankle through the water. I am stretching my back, feeling extension on both sides. If I could do this every day, all year around it would probably only take 15 minutes a day to maintain at a good level. Every day isn’t really viable even in the summer due to weather, schedule, travel, but I am doing what I can.
Out the bathroom window this morning I saw the two hawks circling about the back yard; one slightly smaller and not quite as steady circling on the air currents. It has been about a week since we last saw them. Occasionally we do hear them. I don't know if they are actually hawks or a type of eagle, but the birds have a quite unmistakable shrill bird of prey scream. I am glad that the birds have returned – or stayed? And that there is a new generation of them, whatever they are. As long as they don’t touch our bunny!
Is it possible to dictate two weeks worth of words in a single morning commute? Maybe today’s the day I'll find out. I have to do something different. Yesterday morning I had a thought of “yes that's the entry, that's the observation,” while getting ready in the morning. Or maybe it was before I even got out of bed. Whatever. But unfortunately, it was gone by the time I was downstairs. Maybe the solution is not to think about this in the car but to do this earlier in the morning while getting ready, right after putting on my face.
This doctor says the rash is poison ivy. Or poison oak or sumac. Something like that. But then he says that was what the dermatologist thought the rash two years ago was. Nevermind that I asked the dermatologist two years ago point blank: is this poison ivy, and was told no, contact dermatitis. Further proof that a) doctors practice the medical arts, not science, and b) Alan Alda has his work cut out for him getting doctors to do a better job communicating with patients (and probably each other). I hope the steroids get rid of it quickly this time.
It has been a very long time since I was up, moving and being productive this early on a weekend morning. It was kind of shocking how much I got done well before noon (errands, shopping, bank, laundry, wedding shoes sorted, ice cream base), but since I really wasn’t sleeping (can anyone say sterioids?) I decided to get out of bed at 6 AM. Since I was was able to put in nearly a full day doing chores, I could spend the afternoon relaxing. I won’t be home for the next two weekends, so I need to enjoy this one.
The buttermilk ice cream I made today is absolutely spectacular when made with full fat buttermilk and paired with fruit. And with our fancy ice cream maker, it is almost as good as commercially produced ice cream. I think we need to master the simple ice creams before we try to get all complicated / sophisticated / adventurous with flavors and add-ins. My other half doesn’t seem to agree, but he did admit that this ice cream was more successful than his ginger lemon frozen yogurt. I’d like to master a few flavors: ginger, coffee and perhaps a deep chocolate.
Piece by piece the Bonfire of the Vanities / The Vermont Wedding wedding items are arriving. The shoes I ordered –and the ones I dug out of the closet - turned up last week. Today, the shawl and handbag arrived from England. They are truly beautiful, and just as clean as advertised. I hope dresses arrive this week so that there is some time next week to figure out and execute plan B if needed. I still haven’t bought a necklace, and I am probably won’t. What I like and what I can afford are two different things right now.
I’ve been playing a game of yarn chicken with this blue linen/cashmere top. am pretty sure I will lose, it is a question of when. Even if I use my gauge swatch. I knew it was a real possibility based on the yardage specified in the pattern, but I was hoping I had a bit of extra yarn on the cone. I looked on Rav for more of this yarn, but there’s little in this particular colorway, which has been in my stash for five years. I took a chance and asked and voila – the original seller has more yarn!
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