Cold the Ground Is Still Warm To Touch

Siobhan predicted a rainstorm at 5 and at 5 came the cloudburst. Pete and I sat on the porch while garbage floated downstream – I mean, down the street.

Drusy and Sweetpea considered why we would want to be so close to all that wet, wet – possibly delicious – peril.

Out There There’s Nothing To Do

This wailing good song by the Handsome Furs from 2009 has been repeating on the mental jukebox.

Good doggie!

I don’t remember hearing this until relatively recently, but if I were still listening to mainstream radio I would never have heard it at all. Thank you, Altrok! The Official Video! for this song is zombietastic and so gross. I don’t know how people wipe the butts of tiny children can watch zombie-related film or video without pondering how much of other folks’ goo might be coating them. Then again, who doesn’t love a good moisturizer?

Don’t Fool With Fools Who Turn

DIY projects are fantastic,cheap fun until you become obsessed with good gear. Not to worry, though, because no matter how bizarre your interest, someone got there first and figured out how to make a tool you will only use once while your credit card is still smoking. My mother’s grandmother made braided rag rugs that interest me now as artifacts of a time when no one could afford to waste anything. I’ve been pondering that some.

  • People make knitted bathmats out of cut up t-shirts.
  • People make yarn to knit with out of strips of fabric they scavenge from torn or old fabric.
  • To knit with fabric yarn requires the largest needles available, probably size 50.
  • More than 10 fabric stitches fall off size 50 needles.
  • And next thing you know, you’re here.

    It’s the personality crisis your therapist won’t see coming. Or going.

    Believe it or not, I am considering buying those. My brain is full of soda bubbles: this is not thrifty. This is the opposite of thrifty! But this old-fashioned gadget might be a very thrifty tool for turning out cat blankets a whole lot faster.

    And It’s Turning Out All

    This evening, I went out to pick herbs for dinner and found someone had invited himself or herself or deerself to dine. At first, I wasn’t sure what was amiss. The tenant’s giant squash plant looked a little squishy and a lot less giant, though it took a second look to determine why. The long golden flowers were all tucked into the planter but the elephantine leaves that shaded them were all gone. Suddenly, I was suspicious and crept around the outside of the garden fence. The tops of carrot flowers were nibbled off, but most of the garden was fine. Fortunately, I was staring at stems and crab-walking like a refugee from Mumenschantz when my neighbor, hosing down his broccoli, said, “Hey Domy, whatcha doin’?”

    Only Grandpa ever called me Domy, so I stopped crab-walking to stare at him. Teddy, who looks exactly like his dog should introduce himself with a hale, “Peabody here,” is not properly afraid of me. He is fairly sure that I am crazy and will sit and watch his chickens do silly, chickeny things and he is right. He is looking at me now like he is considering his options, but I am not worried.

    Tata: It looks like we’ve had one deer stop by on the way back to the bar. The brussel sprouts are a goner!
    Teddy: I covered my broccoli with mesh – you know that wire mesh – I covered my broccoli with the mesh and I got perfect broccoli.
    Tata: That’s…exciting. Someone looked over the fence here and found miniature cabbage leaves at eye level. But there wasn’t much else to eat.

    I leaned on something Pete and I should remove at our earliest convenience.

    Teddy: What is that, anyway?
    Tata: It was a peach tree.
    Teddy: It was a peach tree?

    I rearranged a dead little branch to lean on another dead little branch.

    Tata: It has gone to Heaven.

    We both stared at the tragic little branches.

    Tata: Well, nice talking with you. I gotta go slice the still-living limbs from defenseless plants. See you!

    You may be trying to outrun a terrible memory. I tried to sew once.

    Somebody Outside the Door

    Another batch of cat blankets just about ready to mail to Georg. If you are not a fan of the postal system, I urge you wrap up something unusual and mail it to someone. Not salami, though. Not that.

    While we’re out on our bikes, I feel like a million bucks. The summer’s a hot one, great news for me. Even so, I’m now and then having a tough time standing and walking, both of which are crucial to helping out at the food pantry. I’m downright glum about it, but this annoying little setback is just temporary. Temporary! For the time being, I’m knitting and swearing. At least I’m goddamn good at one of them.