Wednesday, July 29, 2020

A long, tired day

I arose this morning with every intention of accomplishing much. Much! I took a shower, stripped the bed and started the laundry. I followed the cat to the other end of the trailer, fed him, cleaned the litter. Washed my hands and made breakfast. A time to sit and think about what to do today.

First, plant watering. It has rained decently over the last week, but not for the last day and a half.

Hooray Mandevillas. They make me feel like I know what I'm doing, most of the time.

And the Gerbera and the zinnias! The whole step menagerie is still going up the steps, and like me, falling apart a bit at a time.

Next a problem to resolve. Seeds I'd ordered from Etsy to gift my daughter on her birthday did not arrive, not even in time for the party. But the tracker said they did arrive, on the 20th. I called the post office, and once again I'm dealing with my address being scrambled by Etsy. So old. Tomorrow they will look in all the boxes. My money is on not finding it.

Now it's lunch time. More crostata and a good start on new books.

Folded the laundry, put it away, and remade the bed.

But I was good to my resolve of accomplishing much, especially tending to the warp on the loom. I picked up and delivered a package to a neighbor, stopped for my mail, drove cross town to retrieve my repaired hearing aid, stopped at the drugstore and came home. Dragging.

Nevertheless, I sat down and tied on one more bout of forty threads, and decided it was time to make supper. A family favorite, cabbage and noodles. Yum. My lovely new cabbage took a while to cut and half an hour to cook down. OK, I was deep in birds. I dished up, and ate and read birds.

After supper, cleaned up. Not too big a mess. Started the dishwasher. Locked the door and shuffled to the soothing office chair. I sat many minutes, too tired to change to slippers. Finally leaning over to untie my shoes, I had such a thought. I forgot to make noodles!

Oh well, lots of leftovers for several kinds of bubble and squeek.

Monday, June 15, 2020

Such a Monday

Let me know if this day would wear you out! I get up at eight a.m., spend forty five to sixty minutes getting my gear wheel engaged. I open my door and am escorted anxiously by the cat to his end of the house. There I remedy his food and water bowl under his anxious eye. Then, totally unsupervised, I clean and refresh his litter box. Now I am free to mosey alone to the kitchen and make and enjoy my breakfast.

My morning task was to insert little congratulatory notes, affix address labels and mail the gifts I'd commissioned for some graduations. That is some mean task; it means manhandling fairly large boxes, getting them (barely) into carrier bags and into my car, then in reverse from my car and into the post office. With a cane in the other hand, and no kind door opener this morning.

I was home just before noon, and sat down to check and answer emails. I opened one from our friend AARP and took a look at recipes on offer. There was a lunch called Eggs in Purgatory. It was far more food than I would eat for lunch, but a perfect supper. But first I needed some focaccia.

I made a two loaf batch, which emptied the flour and sugar jars enough to hold what wouldn't fit when I shopped.

After I cleaned up the kitchen I went to weave for half an hour, then tended to the bread. It was great focaccia, in spite of a few extra minutes in the oven.

I put together the Eggs in Purgatory (half the batch made two meals for me) and popped them into my still hot oven.

Some Parmesan cheese, and it was supper divine. I'm sure someone will ask for the recipe, so I'll get it ready for another day. 

Let me show you Francis' gift, which inspired the other two. It was made by my friend Deb Bures, the porcelain potter. It began last summer, when I saw one of the plates she periodically posts and sells on Facebook, and I bought it. It showed a period bicycle, throwing mud. You may remember seeing it on my stove, as the alternate spoon rest.

Then another time on Facebook, I saw a porcelain mug with a bicycle, throwing even more mud! I needed it, for Frances. I sent the two pieces home with his mother, wrapped in, what else, towels.

Because I did not take a picture, I asked him to do so. Because he intends to be a journalist, I asked him to take a marketing worthy photo. Here is his graduation set. In a couple of days, I'll show you Laura and Blake's sets.