I’m not sure I’d call it writer’s block, more of a lazy brain. I think of things to share, to pontificate, to celebrate. And then I’m in front of the computer and it all drifts into the further recesses of my brain. Which isn’t willing to do the work to dig it all out. Coherence may not be a happening thing.
But! I finished my jury duty scarf – two skeins of Noro Kureyon in the Tilted Blocks pattern. Didn’t quite finish off the last block, but I’m not going to rip out and redo anything. Looks good. Pretty much like the almost finished photo you’ve already seen. I might keep it here, I might send it to friends in Boston. You know, a place with actual below-freezing weather for several months of winter.
The other night was a spectacular sunset. I saw it because I almost forgot to bring in the clothes off the line until late. Rose gold. Layers of clouds, thinned to almost blue in spots. One spot looked like combed top. So much sky! So much gold air! From inside, we don’t see much. From the front, not so much either. But the sky opens up above the backyard. I missed the sky in Alabama. The trees are lovely, but they really shrink the sky. In Wisconsin, we lived in the rolling hills and had sky all around. Far horizons. I know, not far like the Plains, but plenty far enough. The storm clouds were always amazing.
I finally realized I was spelling Tomten Jacket wrong. I’m on a slow search to change from Tomtem (which I like better, dammit!) to Tomten. Still love knitting the forest Tomten with Colinette Jitterbug. I wonder if I can finish it by this Sunday? Probably not – body’s not even done yet.
My son must be an Oakland boy. All of five years old (5 1/2, I mean) and it’s “hecka this” and “hecka that.” “Daaaang! That’s hecka fast!” “It’s hecka clean.” He’s got a bit of that Oakland youth accent going on, too. It comes and goes. Reminds me of my brother, always picking up accents wherever we went. He’s having fun in summer day camp (through Oakland Parks and Recreation – I’m impressed with the quantity and quality of programs they have). Usually comes home filthy, and more often than not, with wet feet because he was playing in the creek again. Yes!
I read a pile of Loretta Chase books recently. Great fun and nice for a lazy brain. I even reread one this week.
I’ve decided the dermatologist’s office I went to last week may be worth sticking with. I was disturbed and annoyed and uncomfortable with ads all over, even a constant infomercial in the waiting shoebox, for ‘aesthetic’ medicine – various injections and therapies to ‘treat’ those wrinkles. Ah, aging, the disease no one of us escapes, unless we’re struck with the glory of early death. But! The PA working with me has been making all sorts of telephone calls to figure out which doctor I see next, all based on my insurance of course. Classic example of how health insurance impedes access to care. (Imagine rant here about Sacramento’s great idea to require every resident of CA to have health insurance because that will take care of our health care problems. Gah!) I’m impressed. And thankful I’m not making the calls myself.
Yesterday, Shakira and Coco did not lay any eggs. Either that, or our guard rabbit failed to scare off an egg thief. But they’re back today. I figure they’re about to go on strike, so I’m not counting on anything tomorrow.