The blue warp is half woven. I like to keep after a set of bobbins until finished, but this week is busy, and interesting. First, lunch with Beth and Ruth yesterday. I certainly cannot say I'm the best mother she ever had, but Ruth definitely is the best mother-in-law. How I love her.
Ruth is shorter than I, if that's possible, and does not like tall tables. Nevertheless, she made it up, and Beth appeared and we all had a nice lunch. Then the charge slip Ruth was filling in fluttered to the ground, and under my seat, apparently. I could not see it. Beth had left.
"Give me your cane" came from across the table, and I did.
The errant slip was secured, until she asked a passing busser to retrieve it. What do we call buss boys these days?
As long as I'm in a tattling mood, Beth, my oldest, commenced going grey in her teens. She dyed the offending strands commencing in high school, and we seldom saw her beautiful real hair, except when she was pregnant. Then, of course, all my old friends and I had to run our fingers through it, and beg her to keep it.
Must have been as awful as having one's pregnant belly caressed. The little watermelon eating granddaughter is sixteen this year. And in all that time, we've never again seen the wonderful hair.
The last time I saw Ruth, I realized she has used the "lock-down" to stop staying blond and reveal pure silver hair. Through and through. Beautiful. When I had lunch with Beth a month ago, I wondered if she were back to silver hair, too. She said NO.