Snow, Snow

Welcome to March and Daylight Savings. After two lovely weeks of spring, we are back to winter and snow. The snow actually began early this morning and has been accumulating the last hour or two.

This was on my way to breakfast; not too bad. It's really snowing now.

I understand those arbor vitae used to be kept trimmed. They have grown to an impenetrable wall ahead of three exit doors for suites down there. They are a sparrow condominium now and sparrows are always flitting. I can see one because I know it is there.

On the way to supper last night, I saw a hawk on the concrete barrier, looking down on all the activity. I've seen him (or a close relative) keeping watch from one of the chair backs. I startled last night's hawk by reaching for my phone, and he left. Maybe next time.

I very cleverly got involved last night in beating my game of Mahjongg, and didn't get to the clocks and bed until eleven. I am still one wall clock behind. It will be awhile until it is changed.

Here is another thing I intended to mention at the time. My new model, Helyn. There have been several Helyn's over the years. The first was a wicker head, woven by my sister, for the purpose of displaying the caps she sewed from our handwoven fabric. The model was from the armpits up, and so resembled our sister-in-law Helyn that the name just fastened itself.

Then I had a real dressmakers model, and of course we named her Helyn. I left her at RiverLight when I began weaving towels rather than clothes. I wasn't about to invest in a new model, for no other reason than space, or lack of. I relieved the cafeteria of a plate and fastened it at 5'4" on my spool rack, exactly as tall as I used to be. Some day I'll ask Jan to give her a face. 

This week was not stellar for weaving. I am almost finished with a leaf green scarf, probably the length of the rose scarf pictured. Probably one more leaf green scarf of undetermined length and the warp will be finished. I'll thread up for Whig Rose.

Kitty fell asleep with her rainbow snake in her claws:

And I'm listening to a great book, "A Stone is Most Precious Where it Belongs", Gulchera Hoja. I linked her to the GoodReads review, last year. Ms. Hoja is a Uyghur, in what is currently East Turkestan. It is not a fun read, but compelling. I am crying and listening and weaving. I don't want to add writing to the list, so I'll just recommend it to you.