And look, it's Saturday

 Whenever I think I should write another post, the thought is crowded away with another, what on earth should I write of?  There is a new normal for all of us, deadly stifling, stifling difficult to write about. What new subject to whip to life this time? Oh, yes, it is Saturday!

I went to the grocery store this morning. I've made my life incredibly easier these last many months by shopping for a month of groceries in one go and enlisting Laura to carry it up the steps. Then she cleans my whole house and does her laundry in the time it takes me to shelve the goods.

Sometimes we have a five week month. Actually, four times every year the "month" is five weeks. That's like leap year; it's necessary to keep the world on schedule. And for old retired people, all the scheduled money comes to the bank sometimes four weeks apart, and sometimes five. 

The rent payment may be late this month; I'll make it the same day May funds become available. Since the business disordered management cannot move to the modern world of electronic funds, it arrives at the whim of the post office. Sometimes the payment is a week early, sometimes a week late. 

I will not budge and move funds from savings to pay the rent on time. It's far more satisfying to see if Theresa has the nerve to assess a late fee, whereupon I will report her sins to New Jersey and the late fee is erased. As long as she continues smoking and the smell oozes from every orifice of that building, I'll be safe from late charges.

Where was I?

I went to the grocery store. Now I'm back. The extra loaf of bread and pound of butter are shelved. How I need a haircut. Monday.

Here is the amaryllis we're tracking for the Weaver. When I shelve mine, she'll shelve hers. Mine had five leaves. In turn they drooped to the table, turned brown, completely limp and snapped off at the bulb. The next leaf to go will be the one on the right. It will be awhile; the leaf feels sturdy to me.

My job for the balance of Saturday is to hem the black towels. Not the fun part. At the end of the first weaving project you learn now it must be finished. The several hundred raw threads from each end must disappear somewhere. Sigh.

Then back to weaving. I've scheduled a run of dark grey towels next (bobbins already wound!), and I'll finish the warp with lavender. And that's what I'm doing on Saturday.