|Like The Queen
Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
I'm jealous of your yard - not just the fact that you actually have land, but my daffys are only just starting to bud, not a single bloom amongst them.
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Sunday, March 16, 2008
Typical Queenly Rambling Long Post – knitting at the end
All my dogs are bedhoppers, but Socks is the one who loves to spend 20 of the 24 hours in a day up on the big bed. She has a steel bladder or perhaps she goes into suspended animation, but getting off the bed is her least favorite thing to do in the world. If we're not careful when we both are going off for the day, she'll become NinjaSocks and turn invisible and we drive off leaving her inside where she can .... get up in the big bed, of course.
But not in March. Not when the carp are running. Carp are huge bony mud feeding fish that swim up stream each spring to spawn. Though our water is not salty at this time of year, we're still tidal and these slow moving fish often get caught in the tide pools left behind as the Rappahannock recedes into the Chesapeake Bay. That's when the mighty hunters – er – fisherdogs stalk the marshes, coming home late at night, covered in black mud, dragging trophies which they guard all the next day.
Usually, Socks begs at the door with the most pleading brown eyes, but not when the carp are running. She's out there in the rain right now, across the yard, hiding in the forest undergrowth, gnawing away or else daring her sisters and brother to come close. She never growls, never says much of anything, but nobody is coming near her prize. The joke will be that the moment she does move, another dog will take her place, proudly declaring “I'm the grandest dog in the marsh.”
We had my favorite story teller at the library yesterday with a program for St. Patrick's' Day – all leprechauns and giants. We had good turnout too, especially considering the competition was a traveling circus in Montross. Afterwards, Gary and I went out to dinner and caught up on all the news. He's my story telling mentor and it was good to get pumped up by him again, as I've been decidedly sluggish this year about my own seedling career. I have only one job lined up for this summer and only one in the fall. And even with the energy sparked by seeing Gary again, I am still inclined to give things a go this year. There is some deep down resting going on in my soul, after 5 years of very demanding effort and I think that is as good as making progress in other areas of my life.
Plus all that technology I have to accomplish – and which, I am proud to declare – at least, on the home front - I conquered. The dvd/vcr player is now talking to the television – and though I can repeat what I did to make it work, I can't see why that particular sequence of button clicking made it work. Happily we only watch movies on the television, and my spinning and knitting videos, so it doesn't matter if nothing else on the thing works. We don't get TV reception down here, and actually, we don't want it.
The first of the completely green things this year are the rambling roses. I have two, a Japanese escapee whose name I used to know and a red single with white center that could be used to lock up criminals, it's so thick and wickedly thorned. They have taken over the deep northwest corner of what used to be my garden, but is now a tangle of weeds with flowers beneath. I'm okay with losing that corner, so long as I'm losing it to roses. Today's sweet soft rain will make it easy to dig up some of the daffodils that are so crowded they'll never bloom. I'll plant them along the lane to fill in gaps, now, while I can see the empty spots.
As for that dreadful birthday sock – yee gads. It looks like a blue sock that had bleach splashed on it. The orangy peachy splotch looks like a question mark. But while we were shifting the technology around in the den on Friday night, look what fell out of a bag ....
Yes. BlueGuy colored sock yarn. Well, with a teeny streak of pink but I will tell him it is red and I am sure it won't matter. I put the ButtUgly sock cuff on some loose needles. I actually may keep that for myself and wear it with the bleach question mark on the front. Or maybe not. I've lost a week of knitting, though so I'll have to scramble to finish these by the end of the month.
Ahh, but I hear rain dripping off the eaves – a good day for knitting.