It isn't Sunday, just for starters

When things aren't happening as planned, my tidy little world appears crumbling, in my head at least, and sometimes in fact. I'm the person who has to know everything! It is absolutely true, I need to understand how things will happen, and how soon or distant.

For the last month or two nothing has been on track. Nothing!

This discourages me. The last time I was considering moving to an independent living facility, I had two interventions. The first was the cat, which I could not rehome, and the second the pandemic, which gave everyone a new attitude.

I put out a great burst of positivity that lasted literally a year and a half. Having no more grandchildren responsibility, I moved on to weaving. Set up shop, ordered a great deal of thread, and worked away, like Silas Marner.

All plans must wind down in time. No momentum is sustainable forever. Some universal law or another. I'm winding on a new warp under a great deal more tension. It's very hard on my arm, but once done, I will like it far more than the last. More tension means more yardage on the loom and off the tubes on the spool rack. And then, O Shit, more tubes will run out than I have replacements.

Time to reassess my life. Sales last year were very good, but definitely fell away this year. Not of concern, unless I buy a lot more thread, some of which I will need to finish the current warp.

I was kicking that can around this weekend when suddenly several things happened. The first order in four or five weeks came in. Then another. Then the gallery in town, where I used the show, asked me to come back, with the towels. And in the meantime, I decided I may as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, so I signed up for six shows this summer at the Peninsula Flea.

And I called my supplier and put in a big thread order.

Then I went to town to mail my orders. I came home by a ten mile detour, just so I could drive up Truxell and get a current picture of the corkscrew willow header of my blog, and look what I found:

Valley Fire out on maneuvers. Those are the pumps into the lake, the ones that Nick, an especial favorite fireman of mine, painted red back when I was the department clerk. I'll guess they were just clearing lines; I know they refill that pumper truck with "city water" from a nearby town.

When I first pulled up, they were pumping that plume out over the lake. I couldn't get out of the car fast enough for a shot.

I came on home, stopping for the mail and to put my packet of material through the rent payment slot. That was another thing irritating me over the weekend, as you may recall. Making me grumpy and wanting to blow this popsicle stand.

It sure was windy, and my hair blew in my eyes and my mouth. It has been growing far too long, and part of feeling sorry for myself. So, I made an appointment for it to be cut tomorrow, before anything else.

Beets for supper

When I moved to this unit I resolved to do several things better. One involved food choices, and to that end I bought several cans of butter beans and navy beans and kidney beans and cannellini beans and beets. The former slipped away in soups and beans and greens, but the beets clung to the shelf. Finally I was down to the last can of beets, and still it remained. When the can opener blade pierced the lip last night, I knew I could get it gone. Sadly, it takes me three nights to consume a can of beets.

A packet from the landlord has come to each tenant. Granted I have been fifty years between landlords; nevertheless, I find this landlord exceedingly annoying. Instead of asking if any information on file has changed since the last submission, we are given all the paperwork to fill out and file again. The compounding problem of inadequate support services, and I conclude they can just evict me. I have a lovely independent living facility in mind, and I don't have to cook. And I can bring the loom.

I am winding on a new warp. Two facts have emerged. The first is to accept my right shoulder is giving out and this warp may be a week or so getting to the loom. The second is, I will run out of more than the four replacement tubes of warp I have on hand.

So what to do? Subdivide those four into enough to complete the warp? Go small, say five more tubes? It comes from Canada, and the shipping would be astronomical! Go big? How big? I ordered forty new tubes of warp.

I also have a lot of colors left to weave into towels. But, what to do with them? I've decided to try shows again this summer. Actually, just one show, the Peninsula Flea. I found the application, which I must get in soon. And, I absolutely must find someone to help me load in and out.

Busy, busy, busy, if I can get started. I must make an appointment with myself!

I did make an appointment for Toby to see the groomer and be divested of a lot of hair. He loves Vicki, and everyone there, they tell me. I will love the absence of hairballs. They greeted me every morning for the last two weeks.

Best of all, his sleekness fits right into the top lounge area.

What a difference a swallow makes

The first time I read the phrase "one swallow does not a summer make," I had no idea of a swallow except something in the mouth. I carried that misconception far too long. And I was even longer seeing an actual swallow.

Yesterday was so promising, I dressed in lighter clothing and lasted through breakfast before I switched out the lighter fleece for my heavy Carhart. I found and watched Harry and Meghan's interview. I have yet to watch the extra thirty minute clip, but I will. 

Princess Diana's death tragic death made an indelible impression on me. I was too familiar with suicide, depression, harm before that time, and her death happened over our Labor Day weekend and at a personal  event that seared it and her two children forever into my memory.

Listening to Meghan and Harry's account of their three years in the palace seemed like a recounting of Diana's life. I am happy for them that they have taken up residence "over here." And I know there are as many opinions of that young couple as there are opinions, so I leave that topic there.

And today...

I knew when I got up, it would be a good one. Back into yesterday's "spring" clothing, which I've worn all day. What a difference a swallow makes, and I've never seen that bird about here, but I watched them every summer evening when I lived on the next road south.

Most of the morning I spent sitting on the very uncomfortable bench out on the deck, breathing deeply, in and out. How wonderful spring smells. I think I could even smell daylight savings time coming on.

Eventually I retired to the studio and began cleaning up the loom for a new warp. Then lunch and back to knitting. I keep working as much as I can on this sock; it's the second of a pair. I want them done so I can start over and try a new toe pattern I've found.

I do need to find something interesting to watch on Netflix. I've torn off my old totally notated desk pad so I can list new programs to watch. I just finished the Mormons Murdering Mormons documentary. 

Ruth and I have a lunch date next week. The last time we went to lunch, last November, I wore a jacket that caused her to say she thought she had the identical jacket in her closet. I'll wear it again next week and see if she wears hers, too.

Breaking into spring

There hasn't been much to say about the current batch of towels on the loom. I like the color well enough; this set, plus the few natural towels that ended the warp. I have enough warp left to put on the loom for the usual six colors of towels, and then no more unless/until I buy more warp.

The towels came off last week and I fulled them and set them aside. Later I cut them, and set them aside. Saturday morning I stationed them to begin hemming, and then the sleep fog overtook again. I crept to the chair, put up my feet and was gone.

I woke after two hours, refreshed, but cold. And my mind's eye was focused on a blue fleece blanket in the back of my car. I've had that blanket for over twenty years, given by a friend back in my weaving days. It always lived in my vehicle and kept me warm many nights, napping on the drive home.

Straight to the car and the blanket was mine. I put it in the washing machine and returned to my hemming job.

 Washed and folded, against the next nap.

Cat proofed. I am sooooooooooo allergic to cat dander, and Toby has plenty of dedicated and pampered nap spots.

Back to the warm and sunny front room and the stack of towels. My daughter called. I put her on speaker and kept on sewing, describing the window of sunshine, the beautiful green aqua flowing under the presser foot, the cream towels to hem next.

Sounds like Key West, she said. The Caribbean, the Mexican Riviera. And yes, the new green aqua is exactly that wonderful color of the water over the cream colored sand.

When I finished the warp off weaving cream, I had three towels plus an exactly square remnant. Napkin folding always begins with a square, and now I have a square. No need to first fold my towel down to a square to begin folding the rose. I can't say it has improved the appearance of the final product, but it has improved the procedure.

The day after

 My sister took me to the appointment for my second vaccine dose yesterday, and I was very grateful. First, I was vaccinated on the passenger side, in the other arm, which I thought good to do. Then, on the way home, my arms grew numb. But, I decided I would beat it this time, and when home I tuned into my current Netflix entertainment, Sweet Magnolias, which is dreadful, and started another sock. I made supper, read blogs and came to bed.

I've finished the course of antibiotics for that double pneumonia, and talked to the doctor about it today. She sent an order for a new x-ray to the clinic and I agreed to get over there soon. I wove some, ate lunch, and then my head filled with bees. I plopped into the recliner and went to sleep. In an hour my phone rang; my neighbor with the mail. I took it and went back to sleep. An hour later Ann called. We chatted, her lunch date arrived, and I went back to sleep.

An hour later I woke, cold. I went to the bedroom, got an extra blanket and went back to the chair. This time I slept to six, got up and found some leftovers. Now I've retired to the "office", to clean up the day's emails and maybe read the news. Or, go back to bed.

I just noticed the new amaryllis leaf, growing from the center of the plant. I do not know what the growths on each edge are. And, this leaf is not pointy, it is squared off. The internet told me to let it grow until the leaves fell over, when I should put it away. I wonder when that will happen.