found at a coworker’s desk

 

I guess I'm a princess

 I got a crown today.  At the dentist's.

the whirlwind

 I was lying in bed, the sun had just come up, the birds were singing. Suddenly, a whirlwind - no, not the Holy Spirit, Pentecost isn't for another two weeks - came rushing down the hall, up onto the bed; it ran up the length of my body and down again, and out the bed onto the floor. I hardly knew what hit me. But, of course I did know.

You guessed it.

what next?

 Okay. While getting ready for work, I heard my brother, Come 'ere, come here, hurry!
I thought it must be a bear in the backyard or something. I came out of my room.

He was in the bathroom, and there was Daisy, sitting on the toilet tank, the Kleenex box on her head. Vertically. I mean her head was in the box. She sat quietly so I ran to get the camera. Took a (lousy) photo and removed the box from her head. 

She didn't cry, or struggle. I suppose if we'd been at work, she would have figured it out herself.*

Oh, you should have been there.

*now I'm starting to wonder what really goes on all day with those two

the sewing mojo

 "The day of the home dressmaker seems to have gone in most places. This is a pity for the town dressmaker was a grand institution. When ours came, it was a gala day. The sound of the sewing machine humming all day and the laughter from the sewing room as Mama and Alma chattered away was a pleasant thing. The smell of chicken simmering on the gas range was fine, and I was usually in a dither over whether my dark-blue corduroy trimmed with fur would get done for the Saturday night football dance.

Alma never used a pattern. She would riffle the pages of a fashion book and say I think I'll make the neck like this - and the skirt like this - and how about raglan sleeves? 

Then her long slim shining scissors went snip, snip - and the material divided like the Red Sea when the Israelites crossed."

                              
                                                         -  Gladys Taber,  Stillmeadow Daybook

  

always learning

 Imagine that you're brushing your teeth at the bathroom sink, your head just turns to the left. You meet the eyes of .....

stock photo - cameras and toothpaste don't mix

the apprentice. 

I should probably go back to shutting the door.

cute as a button

 Daisy, as I've previously described, observing how water fills the sink. 

She is everywhere: when I vacuum, she is nearby; when I damp mop the floor, she's chasing the mop; if I want to wash my tights in the sink in peace I have to shut myself in the bathroom. Today I had my peds soaking in a soapy bowl on the kitchen counter. I came by a few minutes later and one of them was outside the bowl, right next to it. Not the first time she'd gone fishing.

She's everywhere.

how it happened

i.e., how the clock broke. A re-enactment, courtesy of Daisy.

 

every mountain and hill made low

I put the radio on to the classical music station; they were playing the Christmas parts of Messiah. I cranked it WAY up. 

Meanwhile, Daisy appeared on the shelving, and - see that candle on the right, in the iron holder? It was on the middle shelf, but she wants to chew everything that sticks up - I had to move it. So much for nice decor.  But I was greatly into the music, and thought it was kind of interesting that they were playing every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill made low. The crooked straight and the rough places plain. And this cat, leaping higher and higher, knocking things out of her way - it all seemed to fit somehow. 

He wasn't singing in my key, so I was having a hard time singing along. But all is chronicled here for posterity. Or madness.

always learning something new

 I was sure that Daisy was going to become an engineer when she grows up

but now it looks like she'll be a washerwoman.

out of bounds

 If you've been around here a while, you may remember that at Christmas time, I put the small nativity on the lowest shelf of the corner cabinet in the kitchen. The cats always showed an interest - Dolly, Henry, Sweetie - but as long as I kept enough things in there, they understood there was no room for them. Then we got Annie, and she was not deterred by that consideration - I had to move it up a shelf to the middle section, and that did the trick. Now, Daisy is with us.

You are wondering, no doubt, why I'm thinking of this in October. I was sitting at the kitchen table yesterday and heard a sound; I looked over.

Can you believe it? What she was doing there, I don't know. Is it the challenge? "Why did you climb Mt. Everest? Because it was there!" Is that it? Anyway, this is the middle shelf. The piece of pottery got moved. 

And so did Daisy. 

The nativity is too small to be seen from the top shelf, but I did put it over the sink, on those shelves, once before, and that's what I'll have to do again. 

*Maybe that "conversation" with my brother the other day isn't so far off the mark. Maybe I really should move that "candle" on the top shelf. (but it wasn't on, so I don't think she was thinking of the candle - and I really don't want to move it! ) 

one more week

 There was a fantastic sunrise this week -

I had to dial down the light coming into the camera; this is how the sky really looked, with that purply-pink color and the pieces of cloud, don't know what they're called.

And now it's cold again. It's been rainy today and may turn to snowy stuff during the night, but it doesn't look like a white Christmas this year. 

I made yogurt today. I usually do it overnight, but this time started it in the morning, and I just put the Instant Pot liner in the fridge. I tell you, the Instant Pot makes the best yogurt! The secret must be it's ability to keep it at a steady temperature indefinitely - today I let it ferment for ten hours. It comes out so thick I don't need to strain it, so there's no waste; if I start out with half a gallon of milk, that's what I end up with, or maybe a little less due to a little evaporation when it heats up initially.

A man and his daughter came up to the children's desk at work yesterday to check out two books. He put them on the counter and began fiddling with his watch. I thought what's he doing? Well, he had a smart watch and his library barcode was on there - he stuck out his wrist and I scanned it! 

We've been having lots of soup this Advent and it's been nice - one more week to go. The other day it was chicken soup with some greens and this piece ended up on the spoon rest (which is really the cover to a plastic container). It looks like a frog, doesn't it? 

It's not.

I made granola today, too. I like to make it at night. I overload the roasting pan with about ten cups of stuff, stir it a few times while it stays an hour and a half in a low oven and then it sits in the warm oven overnight, where it dries out completely by morning. Granola is expensive to buy, but I am not sure it's much cheaper to make, since I like to put so many things in it. 

I went to confession today; I always feel lighter when I come out - I even felt like that as a child. It's a good thing, right before Christmas. It's the second day of the O Antiphons. Eleven years ago I posted each of the O Antiphons with a piece of art from online that I really enjoyed choosing. I can't believe that was so long ago. Here they are, if you're interested. They don't appear in order in the link, so you'll have to skip up and down to read them properly. 

The promised one shall come and rule over us in peace. 

local wildlife

My brother came in from doing yardwork and said he discovered grape vines growing across the brook. And grapes, planted by the birds, and he only found them after trying to remove some overgrown bittersweet vines - there were grape leaves, and grapes, behind a rhododendron and some arbor vitaes. I put on my little wellies and went out to see. 

I passed by the apple tree - it's getting more sun these days since the nearby tree came down, but it's scrawny.

There are plenty of small but clean looking apples, but the leaves look diseased.

I continued on my way. See the group of three arbor vitaes? The grapes are behind them.

I picked a few small bunches which were mainly purple. But why didn't I taste one first? They are as sour as a lemon. If we wait till they're bigger, or darker, I'm not so sure the sweetness will increase. So we're not sure what to do. The birds planted them, perhaps they should enjoy them. Or, whoever. Many of the leaves have scale, but the fruits all look perfect. I don't know what creatures would eat them - maybe foxes? Raccoons, opossums? I removed a thick bittersweet vine which was winding around a shrub nearby and left them.

 I realized I haven't seen any rabbits for several days, when they're usually around somewhere. Then it dawned on me that perhaps there are babies, and the family is laying low. So, I will be patient and hope to see some little bunnies in a couple of weeks, possibly.

This afternoon my brother called to me, to come to his window quickly, and look out. What did I see but a dinosaur walking down our street. I'm not kidding! It was one of the upright ones, T. Rex or something, but no worries because there was someone walking along with it. Of course we both said get a camera! but I had cat food on my fingers and was rather stunned anyway; it isn't every day - you know. But we both came to ourselves rather late and with our cameras ran out into the road. 

It was quite tall, as you can see. I remember one year before my neighbor-friend moved to Maryland - she called me one day to say a young deer had strolled up our street, and it seems she was the only one to witness it. This tops that story, I think. 

birth days

 We had a baptism during Mass today - a wee little one, born not more than two months ago, probably less. He was quiet throughout, except he did cry from the (cold, I presume) water. It was good to be a witness to it, to hear the prayers for the parents and be reminded by Father to pray for him. 

I saw this on Instagram - a quote from Johann Sebastian Bach, whose birthday anniversary it is today:  "Without my morning coffee I'm just like a dried up piece of roasted goat."   Well! One tends to think of these people as superhuman, but - I guess not. 

new money, old jokes, and cat drama

 This is what I came home to -

which of course reminded me of a crime scene. But she revived after a little, and seems to be her usual self. And there was no blood, for a change. 

Money laundering: a dime went through the wash. That reminds me of a joke an older gentleman told me last week at the library - How does an angel light a candle? *

Easter is two weeks away.

"Hold fast to your duty, busy yourself with it, grow old while doing your task. Admire not how sinners live, but trust in the Lord and wait for his light; God's blessing is the lot of the just man, and in due time his hopes bear fruit."

-  Sirach 11: 20-21a, 22

* with a match made in Heaven!

blood and laundry

It's ten o'clock, and fifty four degrees out - if my hair wasn't wet I'd still have my window open. But it's tempting to keep it open tonight, on March 11th for heaven's sake. Today was almost balmy, well into the sixties. Delightful! I felt I should do something outside, so I picked up some sticks, then wandered to the garden and pulled up dried zinnia stalks. 

Dolly has another UTI, and more bloody than the last, in case you wanted to know that. My brother happened to have time to come home when a client overslept yesterday and missed his appointment. The vet just happened to be free, so he dropped her off for observation and got her again at his lunch time a few hours later. They were looking to see if anything is wrong, but it's just another UTI, it seems. She got some blood on my quilt so I put it in the wash, and then she came back and got it on my other quilt. I was still finding spots on the floor this morning, but the Clavamox works wonders and she's feeling much better already. Everyone says UTI's are common with diabetes; I hate to think she's going to live the rest of her life on antibiotics every few weeks. 

on quilt #2

Meanwhile, while typing this, wild sounds of The Orphan speeding around the living room, crashing into things, reach my ears. She's happy.

one-stop shopping in the bargain basement

 A few times it's happened that an object suddenly appears, from out of nowhere, but we know the Orphan has brought it. She's scrounged it out of who-knows-where, something we've either never before seen, or had forgotten was in the house. 

Once it was a small alphabet block with charming images on it. We can't imagine how it came to be in the house, or where she found it. It's of no use to us; still, I didn't toss it - too cute.  Recently some sort of kitchen scrubber showed up. It's like she gets into the basement closets and goes shopping. 

So today it was a maraca.

It has taken me all day for the distant memory to return of these maracas I used to enjoy shaking as a kid. Didn't know we still had them. Where the heck has it been? 

Of course, the other part of the question is: Did she really carry that upstairs? Really? 

another kind of bunny

My brother took a truckload of debris to the dump today - this is what's left. It's a pretty big pile.

Guess who is on the cover of the new postage stamp catalog? 

My favorite cartoon character. It's the little things, isn't it? 

Poem in Praise of the Continental Congress: a Fourth of July hymn

Thank you, Mr. Jefferson,

For bearding the British brass.

And thank  you, Mr. Adams,

Of Braintree (Quincy) Mass.

Carroll and Clark and Clymer,

Harrison, Hancock, Hart,

Printer Franklin and Planter Hall,

I thank you one and I thank you all

For rising up at your country's call

And giving the Fourth a start.

Thanks with gratitude more than cursory

For handing July an anniversary.

What is so rare in these sovereign states

As festive weather on festive dates?

Sneezes hamper the Yuletide kiss.

Autumn glooms on the Armistice.

Easter's certain to be contrary.

Washington picked out February.

But east and west and south and north

There's strawberry shortcake on the Fourth.

So hip and hip and a loud hooray

For glorious Independence Day,

Day auspicious for every comer

Because it falls on the Fourth of summer,

When winds are soft and air's a prism

And climate's conducive to patriotism.

Fathers, I'm grateful when I remember

You might have fixed on the Fourth of November.

You might have chosen August,

When lawns begin to parch,

Defended Man in the middle of Jan.

Or the horrible first of March.

But you thought of parades and picnics,

Of a blue American sky,

Of driving fast in a brand-new car,

Of rowing boats and of breaking par,

And you set it down on your calendar

That you'd choose the Fourth of July.

So thank you, Button Gwinnett,

For a celebration blithe.

And thank you, Roger Sherman,

And thank you, Mr. Wythe.

Hopkinson, Hooper, Heyward,

Livingston, Lewis, Lee,

Merchant Morris, of Morrisania,

Morton, the jurist from Pennsylvania,

I'm happy you surged with that freedomania.

Thanks for the Land of the Free,

For giving us liberty's deathless chime

And a holiday in the summertime.

-   Phyllis McGinley

it's good to laugh

This one likes to go up and underneath the chair covers.

We laugh a lot here.