No good title comes to mind

 If you've watched too much news these last couple of days, raise your hand. OK, I've counted all of us. My stomach still clenches, my heart rises when I read something new, like this morning: an officer now has died.

Most striking now, believers still believe. The somewhat less than half who voted to retain the current president still believe his message; that noise and rally counts are the same as legally cast and certified votes. I sincerely want the current congress to make the voting process crystal clear, so that in two or four years the loyal opposition actually is loyal to the Constitution and can believe their candidate won or lost fairly.

I've done so little these last two days! I'm near the end of the cayenne towels, and plan on returning today. I still will. There are those socks to finish too. I neared the turning of the heel last night. But ambition is crushed. I am working hard at turning this setback of mind. 

I did have a couple of memorable towel adventures last year. Early on, before spring as I remember, my Texas cousin, Ellis, who lives south of the Red River, in contrast to my living north, tested me on the merit of my towels, and apparently I passed. He ordered ten towels. 

I was instructed to hold them until the week before Christmas; he wanted them for presents. Eventually I mailed them two weeks before. His candidate had bolloxed the mail completely, though I cited only the slow progress at repairing the post office as my reason. His package arrived safely, with three days to spare.

The other towel adventure I remember well was the husband of my partner at cards with the Methodists. Around Thanksgiving, I think, he texted me, could he come buy some towels for Nancy's birthday present? He knew how to look them over on my blog, and made his selection. I wrapped them in tissue paper, as usual, and put them in the envelope, unsealed.

Nancy called this morning to tell me how much she was enjoying the gift. I asked if it had been a surprise, and she said Yes, and added he was quite proud of himself. That's a story that makes me smile.

In the course of chatting, I learned there is another new dog in her house. They had a springer spaniel that moved here with them, but the old fellow passed on, as old fellows do. In due time Jake, a new spaniel moved in. I met him; we played cards at Nancy's once, and Jake was introduced. He's the big brother now.

And on the other end of the sofa, his little sister, Jacki. He's still "learning" her. Toilet training is a tough go.