Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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0 Comments:Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Sunday, May 09, 2004 Rats. Tagboard is still error-ing. Now I don't get to hear all the nice comments that stroke my ego. I guess it's time I fix the other comment section in this thing. Well. Not today. I foresee some weeks ahead when I shall have only myself to please and I'll get serious about tidying up the thing then. At least I'll dump the broken links and get a new comment aplett. So - I spent the yesterday in Fredericksburg, at BD's GF's college graduation. The campus of the little college (now stupidly renamed University of Mary Washington - gag me, please) nestled at the falls of the Rappahannock River, is one of the prettiest small town colleges I've ever seen. They haven't trashed it with new science buildings - though I am sure there are ambitious members of the board of governors with a lust for construction. There always are. Instead, they have moved out into the neighboring county with their big brick structures and sprawling parking lots, aimed at such specific programs as Graduate Studies and Science. The cozy liberal arts campus looks safe for the time being. This was once one of Virginia's many Normal Schools - old Teacher's Colleges, scattered about the state, to provide wee Virginian's with teachers capable of providing a broad, well rounded, full school-year education. As a child we would drive to DC to visit my grandmother along old Route 1, which flanked the campus on the north west. It was such a lovely combination of green lawn, red bricks and white trim. It still is. And yesterday the weather was perfect for an outdoor graduation. I like these best, since, if you get tired of listening to the speakers, you can wander off. (and I did) In addition to cheering on the success of a girl I've known and liked for nigh on to 20 years, what was fun for me was a luscious combination of huge crowds of strangers (a rare treat when you live where you know everybody, not just the clerks at WalMart, but all the customers too), a reunion with GF's family, who are long time old friends, and the joy of being surrounded by young hopefuls. I really love earnest young folk. They are so beautiful. They make me smile and sigh and feel mushy and tender. They have energy and excitement and hopefulness and plans and ideas. I remember feeling that way myself. I still do, mind now, about many things, but not in that global way I did when I was 22 and had such wholehearted passion. Now there are things I know I don't want to do. Now I have that knowledge that comes when one fails at something. I know more about me now and am more forgiving, but this compassion comes with a bit of - hmmm - not regret - but, perhaps, resigned acceptance. These earnest younglings have none of that, and the energy they pump out is extremely fetching - even generous. I couldn't help but soak it up. So we spent this glorious green and blue day surrounded by the young, reuniting with the old and then we topped off the afternoon with Karl's Frozen Custard. Now, my dears, there is frozen custard, and then there is Karl's Frozen Custard and if ever you are driving through or past Fredericksburg, VA, pull off 95 at the Rt. 17 exit at Falmouth, cross the river on old Route 1 and turn left onto Princess Anne St. About 6 blocks down, on the right, is the little ice cream stand and you will find there, along with a long , but very fast moving line, the absolute richest, most delicious frozen custard you've ever tasted. It is almost impossible for me to pass that treat up, no matter how tired I am nor how strictly I'm following WW. I always get chocolate in a cup and BD always gets a vanilla malted. Once home we took the boat up Occupacia Creek. According to the charts, all the creeks 'round here are secondary to Occupacia, but once, in a blow-out spring tide, the water went so low we could see that the main channel in the bay we live on really flows out of Farmer's Hall Creek. Well - obviously the USGS guys never saw this place in a blow-out. I am a frequent, though not constant, explorer of these waters, but I still discover new things each time we take the trip upstream. Yesterday I saw, for the first time ever, an Osprey nest in a tree. These fish hawks have a decided preference for man-made structures when nest building and their bundle of sticks are almost always found on light poles, buoys, or special stands some folk put up for them. But at the bend in the creek, just before you get to the place June Baird calls the cotton patch, sloping down the edge of an oak tree, was the unmistakable shape of an Osprey nest, complete with Mama sitting low among the sticks, warming her babies-to-be. Papa sat across the way, giving his distinctive whistle of warning, but we went by fast enough that he didn’t feel the need to make a territorial circle around us. It was still blue sky afternoon by the time we got home, though it was chilly. We met BD and friends, heading upstream in his boat, just as we got to the mouth of the creek. They dropped by later for hot coffee, on their way back downstream. The college crew was staying at his house and the old fogies made an early night of it. Hardly a fiber in the whole day, though I knit a little on an experimental hat. Of course, experiments seem always to be full of design mistakes and this is no exception. I will play around with it and see what can be done - but since it is an experimental thing it can't really be a failure at any stage of its construction. Today is mother's day, but this is not a particularly important holiday in our family. I have to meet with computer geeks for a while in the a.m. and shove heavy Victorian furniture around in the p.m. My one concession to Hallmark Cards will be a phone call to my own mama - and that, I should have done anyway. The weather man promises us 90 degrees tomorrow. Mama always said "3 days of 90 degrees and you can go swimming". Hmmmm. That will be fun. posted by Bess | 7:41 AM |
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