The kids gave my husband new sneakers, and he finally picked them out a couple of weeks ago.
February 2008 Archives
Rain earlier today has turned back to snow again. We might have enough for a school delay tomorrow, but a holiday is unlikely. I listen to bossa nova, finish turning the heel of a sock.
Listening to Sam Cooke singing "Change is Gonna Come," thinking of spring, and the political season, and even the recent bouts of flu. "It's been a long time coming..."
Got to watch children digging for dinosaur and mammal bones with chisels, brushes, and goggles when we visited the museum this afternoon.
When most of the other flowers from last weekend have faded, the chrysanthemums remain.
Trying to let the pen find its own lines tonight, following along as it goes.
Left as they fell on the table - not the wet, black bough - as snow falls steadily outside.
Petals. They dropped this afternoon, letting us see the inside of a bloom, top to bottom, a 19th-century textbook model on the coffee table, but made of the flower itself, and not plaster, glass, or wax.
On the mend and able once again to take an interest in what's around me. With Valentine's day and then flowers from a party on Saturday - the house is full of blooms - I just haven't been downstairs in three days to appreciate them.
Wind is gusting around the house - fever comes back and forth in its own rhythm - everyone else sleeping now.
Flu has struck the household - but it seems to be a short-term version. I am encouraged to note that those who got it first (yesterday) are already feeling much better.
Sunflower and gerbera daisies. Now we need to pick up the living room in order to live up to their presence.
Misplaced this morning. Without wallet and bus fare, I just walked down the street when my time at one job ended and I needed to be someplace else. Once I got over my need to be in a hurry, I discovered that the walk was good thinking time, letting me shuck off one environment, one set of concerns, and let my mind wander.
And found my wallet this afternoon, half under the living room sofa.
Chocolate.
mmmmm.
Or, more accurately, a dozen views of the same apple. Twelve postcards made for a Valentine's Day swap. They'll be dropped in the mailbox on February 14th. (I think they were supposed to have arrived on the day, but a postmark will have to do. I kept changing my mind about what I'd paint and send, right up to the last minute.)
We're getting ready for Valentine's Day... sending a care package, making valentines for school, and thinking about love.
Woke up to news of canceled school and canceled meetings. Youngest went sledding with a friend, then came home and filled her bedroom with a fort of blankets. I puttered, painted, baked, read. The house was bright with light reflecting off the swirling snow outside, and then when it got dark, it got dark fast. A supper of soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Tonight we are told that rain will change to sleet and then snow again by morning.
Citrus - to fend off the colds and flu in circulation. So sweet, I'd make any excuse to have some more.
Headed home again, after a weekend away. I love the quiet time for thinking and reading and writing before and during plane trips. Tonight I studied my computer programming book for a while (I want to learn the language Processing, so I have a book I'm working through this winter and spring), then knit while listening to music, then wrote notes on a project idea which came to me while knitting, and then got out my sketchbook and drew the view from my window seat. We weren't held too long on the ground; I added washes of color after we were aloft.
Detail of the guest room bed.
Visiting my sister's house for the weekend.
I felt like painting something by not painting it - and this dish was on the table.
The daffodils were drying out until I remembered to water them today. (Whereas I was well-watered by a thunderstorm while walking home from work. After a certain point you realize you can't get any wetter, and decide to have a good time.)
Finishing up the first of my pair of striped socks as I listen to the primary election returns. Can't wait to cast on for the second sock, but it's late, and the radio has called most of the races. I'll pick it all up again tomorrow.
This one is home-made from a piece of clothesline with electrical tape wrapped around the ends for the handles.
Let's pretend that these grew in my garden instead of coming in a plastic pot from the supermarket. Too early for daffodils here, but if I start the painting with the flowerpot just out of view, I can imagine... (And when the blooms are past, I can save the bulbs and plant them in the yard for next year.)
A window glows bright from across the street. I look past the edge of the porch and the trees and think about the different colors of darkness. City darkness has a different texture from darkness by the ocean.
We walked to school this morning through sleet and freezing drizzle. We were well dressed for the weather, and the trees were beautiful, with twigs encased in tiny icicles. By the time we arrived, the day had warmed enough to be rainy, and the branches were bare again. i didn't take a picture. The empty waterglass was ice enough to remind me later.
