|Like The Queen
Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
Yeah, I have to side with BD on this one - a snuggly little puppy in the bed is so cute, but let's move ahead to August when he weighs 45 or so pounds and smells like sunbaked hunting dog. :-)
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Sunday, May 01, 2005 Yea C! Thanks for the numbers. I have already made the first i-cord 26 inches long and I think I’ll go ahead and make the straps shoulder length. I’m not much of one for carrying a bag on my wrist. And in spite of the rain I plan to felt this baby today.
Those weather dot com buys promised me sunshine and 75 and they have not delivered. It’s pouring outside and has been since about 2:30 - when cutelittlebabypuppy howls from the back porch woke me. BD put his foot down yesterday and said "No more puppies in the bed at night." He spent the day building a portable fence around the moveable dog house and then - put the puppy on the porch instead of outside. Who knows why? He’s still asleep. But Captain Jack took great exception to being put out of the big bed. Neither of the big dogs pushed their way onto the porch, though Priss hates rain and will get on the porch at the first hint of falling weather. I guess she’s still not ready to socialize much with the interloper. I did see her give him a kiss or two, but she’s not ready to snuggle.
You are not to think I mind a rainy Sunday, though. Those are more precious than diamonds in my book. They are permission to do nothing all day long - not even get dressed if that’s your pleasure. They are free passes to hedonistic leisure. They are get out of jail cards. They mean you can watch videos while you play with cool toys - in the day time! They mean you can take naps.
This is the week that springtime pushed its way into the forest big time. Last week, driving back and forth to Richmond, I was struck by the delicate beauty of suburban landscaping, all lavender and pink and white. The dogwoods, the first flush of the azaleas; redbuds and lilacs brushed the horizons of highways and yards with their subtle purple hues, dancing against a backdrop of pale thin chartreuse, cinnabar and emerald. It was light, fresh, sweet, but sparse, this frosting of springtime. This week we’re down to the cake part - fatter, richer, deeper colored, yet still soft and supple. The beech trees are in full force, the faded rustling brown husks of last year’s cloak long pushed off the branches by the new spears of green. Their leaves will fold around your finger like fine leather, making you want a pair of gloves made from them. The tulip poplar (tupelos, my dear, but only in the deep south) are unfurling their sherbet colored cups. If you are fortunate to have a young tulip poplar you can look down on these fairy blossoms with their yellow centers, orange bodies and pale green rims. Otherwise, you might not notice them till autumn, when they dry into fascinating candelabra, silhouetted against a vivid blue sky. One November I gathered them, reinforced them with glue and spray varnish and used them in the Christmas wreath.
You can’t see deep into the forest any more. The dark skeletons of the edge trees still flirt with your vision, but the leaf cover is now too thick for you to really get a good look at the inner woods. Last week we could still see the swaths of destruction left by Isabel back in 9/03 but this weekend all is hidden behind green shawls. This week you could forget there are huge swaths of broken forest, now filling with blackberry and poke weed, taste treats for the woodland dwellers; here only for a few years until some bold arbor king decides to expand his sky territory and shade out this undergrowth.
This is May in Virginia and this is as close to heaven as humans ever get to experience. It may be that April in Charleston can match us, but no place can beat us in this display of lush verdant opulence. Now is when the scarlet tanagers will flit overhead, shocking your eyes with a deeper red than the cardinal. This is a shy bird. He won’t push his way into your yard and demand admiration. But you can’t help but see him and when you do your heart leaps. Depending on who wins the turf war in the arborvitae, we will have baby cardinals or baby jays in the yard. Most of the time we flash red, but now and then we have a blue year. Papa Cardinal has a little song that translates into something like "Bess loves meeeeEEEEeee. Bess loves meeeeEEEEeee." That is because I re-route the garden paths if we get a nest in the Climbing White Dawn.
And speaking of the poor garden - I have decided. This will be it’s last year as a jumble of blossoms. It will be transformed into boxwood beds over the next 12 months. I am not giving up my green rooms crossed by secret paths, but I can’t take care of these thousands of blooms any more. My chest and sinuses can’t survive the hours outdoors in March and April that are needed to keep up with a floral wonder. It shall have to be all green for me. I feel only a little sad about this. The rest of my emotions are of the pragmatic French sort that stimulate creativity based upon what they are given. One thing for sure, if I can’t do something I used to be able to do well, I shall find something new I can do well and love that just as much.
Capt. J is asleep on the desk right now. BD has taught him this and it has its advantages. You aren’t likely to roll over tiny paws with the chair and you can either be confident he’s not chewing the electrical wires or you can quit playing with the computer and go play with him. When I got home from work yesterday, BD was sitting outside with the camera so there are sure to be New Photos in a day or two. BH’s girls played so hard with Capt.J, he fell asleep and couldn’t be roused.
We also got the bill for the medivac helicopter along with their form that asks "Do You Have Insurance ‘cause If You Don’t It’s Gonna Take You The Next 2 Years To Pay This Off". Just under $10K. Well, I had thought it would be more. And we do have insurance that claims it will pay for chopper rides, even if the Heart Drain-O had begun to work as you were being lifted on board. So far, BD’s heart attack is costing $7,546.90 an hour.
I’m not complaining about this. Heck. I would have dumped every penny in the bank into their coffers, in exchange for my precious BD. I’m not even sure I think it’s too expensive. I am not sure, period. I’m just fascinated by Big Bills because we’ve never had a big bill before. BD built the house (with his own hammer and saw) and bought so many things at auctions and salvage yards, back in the days before they became pricier than Home Depot or Lowes. It took him 3.5 years to finish the house and we paid cash for so many chunks of it. By the time we closed the building note, the mortgage was only $7,000 - the price of a new car. That is the biggest financial obligation we’ve ever had to come up with. College for LD was a little more than that per year but was broken up by semesters and mitigated by some scholarship $.
So - it will be interesting to see what the big stuff cost. 2 days in Critical Care, surgery, tests. Somehow I feel pretty carefree about it all. As bad as it was - it was not what I’d call Really Bad. It was not Long Term Years-0-Bad. I would call this Ordinary Bad.
And speaking of Model Patient Golden Boy BD - he fell for my doctored lean ground beef hamburgers. Yes! The trick? Some cracker crumbs and fresh garlic mixed in with the meat. Sort of meat loaf burgers. My complaint about the really lean stuff is that it’s so durn dry, but the cracker crumbs made the texture smoother and the garlic - well - garlic improves any meat. He was really cheerful about this dinner and I was really proud. This man has always been a joy to cook for anyway, but his cooperation now is so appreciated. He could be making this awful and instead, he’s ready to be pleased.
I have to chime in with C - I have fallen under the spell of Crazy Aunt Purl. She captures exactly how I feel about the magic of the blog - that fabulous opportunity to talk endlessly, should you desire, about Self - in 3rd person, in 1st person - any way you please. If I had another son I might try to set something up.
And so - A Sunday of Nothings lies ahead. Sweet nothings. Silky slippery sheets and coffee nothings. Knitterly nothings. Nobody needs to worry about a thing nothings. posted by Bess | 8:42 AM