Fava Beans & Simply Green

The inside of these large pods is fluffy, padded and dense white fiber. And the beans themselves are very organic with pod attachments. I wonder who decided this food was edible. The first time. Don't you think about that when you look at some of the things we eat? Tom Selleck (yum) was interviewed by Rachel Ray and he doesn't like vegetables or figs. They don't look "finished" to him. Tom thinks figs are "finished" when inside a fig newton. And only then.

I don't think Tom (or G) would venture into eating a Fava Bean. They need to be shelled. Then steamed. And then peeled of their outer, inedible skin, and finally sauteed and eaten. I have a large bag full. They can be frozen with the outer skin still on. I ate some raw, with the skin, some peeled and still raw and some sauteed in a bok choy lo mein. They taste like big green peas. Slightly sweet. A bit starchy. Green.

I have zucchini, onion, bell peppers (red and green), jalapenos, garlic, salt and ice cubes sitting for another few hours while I ready the canning jars and the bread and butter vinegar, sugar and spices. Pickle time. It's 80 degrees and about 100% humidity. Always make pickles when it's stinking hot. Because pickle makers are crazy as loons.

I worked yesterday and had a pot roast in the crock pot all day so I would have a "good dinner" when I got home. Friday and Sunday we were scrubbing the entire greenhouse floor with "Simple Green". Removing dirt and this black jelly mold. Four of us. And some others worked on it on Saturday also. I can't say I would have been voted "most popular" on Sunday when I got the simple green, floor brushes and the hose ready. But they pitched in and helped.

On Saturday, having witnessed the miracle that is Simple Green at work, I bought a bottle and scrubbed all the nice dirty tiles on my sunporch at home. Why I selected the vanilla color for the tiles is beyond understanding. But now that they are "simply" CLEAN and vanilla again--I'm loving them. And looking for other things to spray that green magic on.

I love to clean up messes. I love seeing the progress of my work. And I adore the end result, which is visible. That's why I love laundry, clean sheets and ironing. I can SEE the results. This week, while G was gone, I scrubbed all the floors in the house. Without simple green. When it's hot and my feet are bare, I like all the floors to be super clean. I can sit and stare at my clean floors for long periods of time.

Been watching my TiVo'd West Wing episodes. Going by way too quickly. Already going into 2003. And Miss Marple. And Law and Order CI. Nickles may be my favorite character. And Diners & Dives on the Food channel. I have said NO to Big Brother, the Fashion Show and all the other new summer shows . I haven't opened any of my three books. I read three really quickly and now, not so interested in reading.

Also not so interested in walking the dog. We just got back from a walk and I felt like I was going to pass out. I get dizzy and sweaty and just want to lay down in the grass. Could be the heat and humidity, as I remember feeling like this last summer. Last year I worried about what the dog would do if I fainted. This year I know he'll sit with me. I have low blood pressure and this happens when I get stressed. I had a nice peanut butter sandwich and I feel much better now.

Well, it's been pleasant talking with you but I have canning jars to wash in the dishwasher. And pickles to make.

Scam Artist

This is incredible and true. I was out walking the dog over in the newer, more affluent neighborhood across from my own sort of affluent street this afternoon. And one of the home owners comes running from his backyard over to the dog and me.

"Hey," he says, "do you have any grandchildren?"

I said , "no", and laughing, asked if he had some to give away.

No, but he did have a really good story to tell me.

A few weeks ago a nice young man stopped by, introduced himself as my "grandson". He asked if the gentleman knew me, his grandmother. The young man said I often walked my dog, a black lab, over on this street. Of course, the neighbor did know me and my charming dog.

Well, as a wonderful and generous grandmother, I was sending my "grandson", a recent college graduate, to Europe for a year to study. But I wanted him to do something to "pay back" my generosity. I wanted him to sell magazines and books door to door and give the money he earned to charity. (well, now, that sounds like me, right?) (NOT)

The neighbor doesn't need any magazines or books. No problem. My "grandson" will send the entire amount to whichever children's hospital the neighbor chooses. So he writes a check.

Next day, my neighbor reads in the local paper about a scam artist in the next town. He calls the police in that town. They are concerned and tell him to see if the check has cleared. They refer him to the police in our town. Who don't care. (now that's a big surprise --- NOT)

So, I'm wondering how many of the nice people in this neighborhood have been scammed by my "grandson". And do they actually think he was my "grandson". And do I need to go door to door and apologize and write checks to reimburse them for any losses.

On the one hand, I am embarrassed and feel violated. On the other, I am intrigued by the thought that this well to do, retired executive thinks I have the financial resources to send my "grandchildren" to Europe for a year, all expenses paid.

How much do you think it would cost to send a grandchild to Europe for a year? Perhaps I should send myself.

Mosquito

G is in Orlando and I am on dog duty. Riley woke me at 7 am this morning with flappy-ing ears. I dressed and we went outside to do "morning business" along with about a million or so hungry mosquitoes. I mean, literally, about a million. Clouds of them.

It started to rain yesterday at about 6 pm and rained all night. When Riley and I walked at 11:30 last night (just around the garden) there was a misty, foggy rain falling and the bugs were so excited to have some "blood". Well, this morning they are hungry for BLOOD. They are all over both of us. Ugh! G has this stuff he buys and sprays around the house with the an attachment to the garden hose. Wish I knew how and what to do because the stuff really cuts down on the bugs. The sun also cuts down on bugs, but we won't be seeing the sun until Saturday.

Art Club is trying to participate in some kind of local venue art evening (slides of 2 pieces of work plus a 2 minute verbal by each artist) and I am getting repeat invites to "participate". Which has lead to me having to admit to everyone that I don't do "participate" very well or at all. Art Club members are all working on a small 3D collage assemblage for a coffee house show in September. Guess who isn't. I mean, I will make a collage, but the chances of it going into a show are very slim.

I am usually surprised that I post the bimonthly Friends of Twelve by Twelve piece. I missed the June first reveal (identity) and am not even working on the reveal for August first (passion). The wheels on this project have stopped rolling for me and once stopped, it is difficult to get the wheels in motion again.

I tried explaining that just thinking about a project and working on it (and sometimes almost finishing it) are enough for me. There are fabric artists who submit queries to a host of magazines in hopes of being published. And burn CD's and fill out applications and write artist statements to enter quilt shows and competitions. And pack and ship the quilts. Not me. I did it once. It was a rush to have been juried into a show, pack and ship. But not enough to continue doing it, keeping track of deadlines, and worst of all, making stuff to suit. There is NOTHING I detest more than working on something I have no interest in doing.

In order to see my work, you actually have to arrive at my house and demand to see stuff. Or appeal to my softer side by begging for work because you have no one else to ask. That's how I got into a two month, one artist, show last year.

When I worked at the library, I would hang my recent pieces up behind the CIRC desk to screen, from view, the CIRC workroom. Then patrons started asking about the work, started asking for new work, started requesting old favorites etc. They even began buying the work, literally off the wall. It was fun at first and then became another "job". I did enjoy helping new quilters with their projects, solving problems and teaching beginners. But, at the core, I was always happiest when it was over.

Right now I have about a dozen or so very promising pieces in various stages of progress. Some have been this way for years (about 8 years for one large 16 block applique). All the interesting problem solving/learning/experimenting is in the past. Now I only have the hard repetitious hours of work to do to finish. And why? Yes, that's the question I ask. Why finish them?

A friend, who long arm quilts my work, has been asking about that 16 block folkart Baltimore every year for 8 years. I have been saying that I am still hand appliquing the sawtooth strips that go around each block and haven't even begun to work on the borders. The quilt will be too big. I was making it king sized and not the twin size of the pattern which I stopped using after 5 blocks. I designed my own blocks. And the sawtooth strips (I've made 40 so far) are taking forever. So, in order to finish, I have to eliminate blocks and actually make the appliqued borders using elements from the original and newly designed blocks. I might have close to the number of strips if I only use 12 blocks. Or I can make two smaller wall quilts of 9 blocks each, meaning I will need to make 2 more designs and applique two more 18 inch square blocks. And we are talking about 10 year (or more) old fabric that needs to match and cover borders and new blocks and sawtooth strips. And the background fabric was an off beat choice and was damned difficult to find. Not many quilters applique on a polka dot background. Trust me on that point. I've shown these blocks and watched quilters wrinkle their foreheads in confusion. Why did she use that brown dotted fabric with the reds, blues and yellows? Because it looks nice. To me. And that's all that matters in the end.

What's this got to do with mosquitoes? I usually do have a roundabout point in these posts, eventually. Well. All these unfinished pieces are starting to "bite" me. Hound me. Why else am I thinking about these applique blocks after so long. And the piece on the design wall and the winter garden quilt. And the Twelve by Twelve "passion" piece. And the little applique circle blocks for the French quilt. Sucking the blood out of my creative self. Hard to do NEW work when the OLD work is in the studio screaming and stamping it's feet, louder with each passing year, month, day, hour.

Well, I am only working two days a week at the greenhouse. And I'd have to be a fool to actually go out into the garden, in the rain, to pull weeds. And I can muffle the screaming and stamping with the sound of the vacuum for only so long. Time to just "pull the work through" as a workshop instructor said. David Walker, I think.

I'll be here, pulling work through, and will post and photograph which ever thing I settle down to "pull through". And I'll walk the dog. And there will be mosquitoes.

MidSummer Reboot

Well, as any gardener knows, things don't always grow as planned. My squash are rotting. No beans. My tarragon is four feet high. The lettuce is ready to eat and covered in slugs. I think I will be buying tomatoes this summer. But the sun is shining. And we have blueberries.

Riley is ready to go for his walk. I'm tired. I was called into work yesterday when three people called out sick. Sunday is a slow day at the greenhouse (100 degrees inside) but it went by faster than usual. Then I did the week's groceries -- much simpler since I will be the only one home this week -- and did two loads of laundry, made dinner, ate dinner and then watched Miss Marple.

G got to spent most of Sunday in his favorite spot. The couch. "Reading" which translates to holding a book while sleeping. I'm not sure the dog enjoyed it as much as G did. They were both up early this morning (4:30) so G could be at work by 6.

--I haven't even begun to read the three books I have on the table.
--I have been able to write a page each day in my journal and paste some sort of evocative picture on the left facing page.
--I have been eating fruits and vegetables and drinking plenty of water
-- I want to fill the recycle container for the third week in a row with stuff from the attic. It's a 30 gallon garbage can
--and I want to fill an equal sized black garbage bag with non-recycle things from the attic.
--still haven't found the cute white metal table I bought last year at the greenhouse garage sale
--bought practically dead impatiens for the shed window boxes
--bought a charming off white, decorative use only, vase at this year's greenhouse garage sale and will be scouting the flowers in the attic (silk) for something charming to go inside. I have nothing outside but Japanese beetles.
--I think it's time to have a hand sewing job in my hands whenever I run out of things to do so I can stop eating hummus and carrot sticks.
--I need a list of things to do, to check off as they get done

I wish I knew how to make that line bloggers put over words they have written that no longer apply. Then I could cross things off this list I have just made. But who really cares?

I think that's the real "reboot" needed midsummer. Caring. It gets so hot and we get so tired that we just, simply, do not care. And now that I am using fragrance free laundry detergent--not even clean laundry perks me up. Clean has no smell. I would have thought clean had a smell. So many fragrances in the world and "clean" isn't one of them, even though products all mention having that "clean fragrance". I miss original scent Tide. That smelled "clean" to me.

-- walk the dog

On Second Thought

I was rather disappointed by yesterday's post. It seemed flat and boring. I erased it twice and probably should have just gone to watch television instead of posting. But, this is sometimes my only contact with people all day. Not that I chose to be reclusive yesterday. I had a pleasant luncheon date and met lots of friends at the library and in the parking lot. Perhaps that is the reason for the melancholy? Seeing and speaking to so many, made me sad to be suddenly alone, later in the day? Or perhaps, I was missing that easy conversation I had become used to while working at the library, seeing so many people pass by each day.

I might just be adjusting to a lessening of public contact now that I am working so few hours. I think that's why the non-happening Art Club this week was such a sharp disappointment. I needed some people around me.

G has a day off today. He has already been to the doctor and now he and Riley are out walking in the woods. When he gets home he will try and mow the grass before we have a shower. No sun today, yet. Just clouds.

I'm drinking my second cup of coffee, still in my pajamas at 11 am. I watched an episode of West Wing this morning (the local NBC station is showing two episodes every day at 8 and 9 in the morning). They have added the whiny voiced actress from CSI Miami to the cast. A nod to Ann Coulter? The Republican Pit Bull. With lipstick.

The real estate agent's secretary just called to notify me of another showing this afternoon. That makes two this week. Perhaps prayer is working. I need to be more positive in my thoughts going out in the Universe. I asked for someone nice to buy the house. Perhaps I need to be less specific.

I'm going to make cheesecake brownies today. For G to eat over the next few days. They are having the annual Clam Festival in the town where his McD's is located. If it rains he will be very busy. Overwhelmed. If the sun shines, no worries. I think cheesecake brownies will help don't you?

I have been reading blogs about Facebook and Twitter. And seeing the television shows falling all over themselves to add both to the NEWS. What crap. I don't see the evening news as an interactive concept. It's hard enough paying attention to what is being reported with that little stream of words running at the bottom of the screen. And the alerts. Now I get to read text messages from people driving their cars on highways. Enough.

Every person I see now days is talking on a device held to their ear. Talking about nothing. And the ones with ear pieces-- well, they look like psych cases talking to themselves. When I traveled to Ohio and was in airports, well, let me tell you, I thought I had traveled to a huge mental ward. Everyone talking to no one. "What are you doing?" "Oh, I'm at the airport" "Just walking to the gate." They even talk on the phones in the bathrooms. What is so important that it must be discussed while peeing? Perhaps the stalls that are quiet have people texting to Twitter. While they pee. These are women. Men, I think, need one hand to pee? But I guess you can text with one hand?

I do not have a cell phone. I do not text. I do not Twitter. I don't care to contact people I knew in the past 60 years on Facebook. I don't see Facebook and Twitter as "public relation tools" for artists trying to sell and publicize their work. I am probably wrong. I will never know though. My blog isn't open to either. Neither is my bathroom.

CLOSED

Not so good thing: My (our) favorite restaurant has closed it's doors to dining room customers. They now are only doing catering. I was shocked and saddened to see the little blurb in the local paper early this week. G and I haven't been having many mutual days off, so we haven't been having lunch together very often this month (this summer). We both have tomorrow off. Sigh!

Very excellent good thing: We have now had SEVEN days of mostly sunshine. Now the temps haven't gotten above 77 degrees (unless you work in a greenhouse and then they have gone close to 90 or 100 degrees) but that sun is SHINING. And it's WARM. And I am loving it!

Amazing thing: A miracle, even. A check from the bastards at the annuity. Yes. A check. And I called them to make sure they meant to send it, that I can cash it, and it's not a "trick". It's good.

I ate too much today but all the food was so delicious and I was so hungry. Eggplant Parm for lunch with whole wheat penne. And I did a perfect job of seasoning and sauteeing the pork steaks for dinner tonight. Great baked potatoes and steamed green beans.

Tomorrow I will go look at the planters at the local McD's to see what I need to do to make them look good. And I'll weed a bit in my veggie garden. And sit in the sun. Could go for a record tomorrow and have EIGHT days of sun. In a row. Wow!

No Art Club. The doors to the building where we meet were locked again and this time we didn't get anyone to let us in. I was so READY to enjoy Art Club. So I was really bummed.

CLOSED. It seems that my world is closing down on me lately. No summer plans. No social calendar. Not much work (paid). No favorite restaurant. No walking buddy ( baby grandson taking all her time). No zucchini to make into pickles.

OPEN: A great lunch date with a book reading friend. A hug from a library patron who hasn't seen me lately. A visit from my daughter (nice tan). Husband going away on trip for a week. I can eat chard for dinner with brown rice and beets. Iced Coffee. West Wing repeats as my summer viewing pick. I never watched when it was new. What year did it begin? The two episodes I watched this morning were from 2000.

So more Open things than Closed. That's good. Staying positive.

Second, Full Day of Sunshine

I was so hot at work today. That greenhouse heats up! And I was sweeping the floor and watering plants and before you know it--lunchtime.

People are coming in to get plants that don't die when sitting in water. Plants that don't mind 21 days of no sun and lots of rain. Sorry. The key word here folks is DRAINAGE. A simple enough concept.

I'm tired, a bit cranky and hungry. I woke up at 7:05 and had to be on the road to work by 7:30. And the dog hadn't done any business or eaten his breakfast. Plus, G hadn't made any coffee so I had to roll into the McD's on the way to work and BUY coffee. I did manage to get it all done in 25 minutes. Wash face, brush teeth, get dressed, take dog out, feed dog, make my yogurt lunch, eat my cereal, find car keys, pack my work bag, pack dog's lunch, find $2 for coffee. It's better when I have 45 minutes.

Yesterday, the first day of Big Brother. It's something to watch in July and August. Lowest common denominator; with emphasis on "common". Like trashy. And now I don't have to watch any of the rest of the programs (three times a week) because they brought back Jesse. And it was hard enough to watch him the first time he was on this show. Jesse. Here is a guy who thinks he is the center of the universe and hasn't had an intelligent thought in all his 2o something years. And he looks for each and every one of the 50 some cameras. Jesse is always posing. They asked what he had been doing since being on the show and he says "I gained 10 pounds of muscle and my arms are now 17 inches". Who is president, Jesse? Huh?

I will not watch. UGH!

So I guess I won't be watching television and I WILL be reading more books. I have three waiting for me right now.

I have hollyhocks growing taller each day out in front of the kitchen bay window, little lettuces getting bigger, cucumber plants climbing the trellis, baby squash and fava beans. And I haven't had to water anything. The raised beds are draining nicely so no puddles. Raspberries and blueberries coming along. One peach left on my baby peach tree. (all the others fell off). It may be time to wrap my celery in paper to blanch the stalks like they do in the supermarket. And the garlic and onions are looking good. The chard is huge and I wish I had planted the rainbow variety. I have plain green. Finally got the replacement peppers and the tomatoes I grew from seed into the ground. Eggplant needs more sun and heat.

But, at least things are still healthy and growing, even if it is slow going.

Tomorrow I have an appointment to get the Fit inspected so I can have a valid sticker in case the police decide to stop me. And I am changing the insurance on the BMW to "garaged" or "stored". We won't be driving it. Well, we haven't been driving it since October. But now it's for sure it won't be on the road in 2009. And probably 2010. We have four vehicles. Ridiculous.

Gary volunteered me for a "job" refurbishing the indoor planters at a local McD's. I don't like to go to that McD's because we once owned it, it's on a busy street with problems getting out into traffic and the chances of me doing what they want aren't real good. Rats.

Time to cook dinner.

Sunshine is Back

Yes, there is no rain falling from the skies over Maine today. I have just come in from sitting on the porch in the sunshine, working on my tan. Riley was working his way around the yard--rolling in the grass. I think the temps are in the 70's.

Yesterday, G & I devoted ourselves (in the pouring, cold rain) to getting the Ohio car titled in Maine. I have new license plates, excise tax stickers but no inspection tag yet. So the Ohio plates are still on the car. I meant to Google to find a place here in town that will inspect my car before writing this post.

The bastards at the "Annuity" wrote me a letter saying I needed to return $24,000 to them because "someone" took a check for that amount AFTER my dad died in September of 2007. I very calmly explained that in September of 2007, my dad was ALIVE and perfectly able to take the interest money out of his OWN annuity. They checked. Wow! He WAS ALIVE. Am I getting the money? Nope. I'm to expect a "letter" in two or three weeks. My dad and his attorney were never able to get money out of these bastards. I don't expect to get any out of them without a lawsuit of my own. And these BANK BASTARDS got my dad to put the money in the annuity in a CLASSIC case of Elder Fraud. He didn't understand what he was buying. They just told him to "sign here" for 6% interest on his bank accounts. Next thing he knew the bank accounts were empty and he was the "proud" owner of an annuity that made it's FIRST payout in ten years. My dad was 84 and in poor health. My dad spent the last two years of his life depressed, fearful and angry. Trying to get his hard earned money back.

Okay, enough of that. I refuse to go down the same road my dad followed.

I picked up books from the library today. Two for G and two for me. Whenever I order books on line, they come in bunches. Usually more than we can read in three weeks. But there's nothing to watch on television this summer, so we are reading.

I made a wonderful iced coffee to drink while sitting in the sun and wish there was more cold coffee to make another. I could drive out and buy one. Or just have some cold water. I ate a really big lunch of 6 boneless BBQ wings, celery, carrots and hummus. But I'm thirsty now. I think I'll make something to drink, put on a load of laundry and go sit in the cool living room and read. I work tomorrow. I should enjoy today as much as possible.

We had another cat bunking down in our garage last night. Methinks my husband is forgetting to close the garage door. He denies it. So the cats must be teleporting through the doors into the garage. I think I should give one of those grocery papers a call.

Missing Cat

What a story I have for you today. I was all ready to go for my walk with N this morning (and Riley) but had a few minutes so I went up into the attic to look for the cute little metal table I bought last July. I had it next to my outside chair to hold my beverage.

The attic is a complete "man made" mess. Piles of crap. I couldn't even get to the pile of outdoor chairs and when I climbed over to it, no table.

But------ the tiniest little meow. From behind the workshop door.

I ran down the stairs and up into the workshop part of the garage and there was a tiny cat looking down at me. Riley barked and the cat scrambled back up into the workshop. No time to try and find it--time for our walk. So when I got to N's house I mentioned the cat in the attic.

We walked. Talked. Laughed. Riley sniffed, peed and pooped.

Got back to N's house and her husband comes over to say there's a missing cat in the neighborhood, my next door neighbor's cat, and N's husband had called to tell them it was in my garage.

The neighbor came over, we climbed up into the attic, over insulation batts, sawdust, styrofoam, wood and machines but no cat. Neighbor left. I was so sad. And worried. Had the kitty gotten out when I opened the garage doors? He was an indoors only cat so had no street smarts. Only one year old. And there is a lot of danger in our woods.

I went back upstairs and sat on the step, worried and there he was, in the most inaccessable part of the attic. I would have needed a ladder (very tall) balanced on the stairs to even reach where he was hiding. I could just see his ears. I called the neighbor to say the cat was safe.

I spooned some fragrant Mexican casserole on a plate. When trying to gain the attention of a lost animal, stinky food works best to bait the trap. And once the neighbor arrived to catch the cat if he ran past me, I began to dig my way through boxes, batts and debris to the cat. The long way around. I placed the Mexican food where the cat could smell it. He's been somewhere and possibly in my attic, since July 4th. He approached the food.

And then I grabbed his collar and it was the snap off kind. So I had to make a really calm grab for him and he wasn't liking it at all. His claws were grabbing at every thing we passed as I crawled backwards out the narrow opening I had made.

He was safely returned to his owner (and to three year old Hazel) and will probably not open the window screen and escape ever again. Or if he does, I hope he comes back here to my garage and stays away from the fisher. And the coyotes. And the porcupines. And the raccoons. And the deer.

Going into the woods isn't something little cats with bells on their collars should do.

Misfit

A bit of art content since this blog is on the Art Ring. A collage of fabric scraps not usually found in a quilt. Corduroy, selvedge, wax crayon batik (home made) and some daisies from trim I found in a box of junk. I finally had a moment to sit at the machine and zigzag this down. Now to find an additional half hour or so to add binding. The color is true.

Some old silver plate spoons I found at Goodwill. Well used as the silver plate is worn thin at the spoon tip. I love the color shift in the silver plate patina. I may mount them on a linen covered board and frame the lot and hang them in the kitchen or dining room.

Just finished the book I was reading: Serena by Ron Rash. I wish I belonged to a book club that was reading this book as there are elements of the story I would like to discuss with someone (anyone). Which is why this post is labeled "misfit".

I just feel so out of step with the regular world. So alone. Not lonely. Solitary. Not ordinary but also not extraordinary. I wonder if this is the specific DNA for my family? My parents were happier living separate lives. My children live alone. I live inside my head.

My early report cards suggested I was not social and didn't "play well with others". I never had "best friends" in school. All my secrets stayed inside and were never shared. I never "fit".

I can spend long periods of time alone, not speaking to anyone (though I am addicted to blog communication right now, perhaps because it is silent). I am annoyed by the dog and his social needs. He interrupts constantly. I like to look. Process my environment. Sort through the things I see, hear, notice or read. My brain likes to sort.

My work environment at the greenhouse is interesting because we (employees) are all misfits. We discovered this by accident. Wondering why certain people get hired and others do not. A long time employee asked "haven't you noticed, yet, that he hires misfits?" Not that there is anything wrong with any of us. We are just original. Is that a polite way to say it? And. We all like each other. Eventually. I look forward to work and my co workers. One misfit among the many. And, as far as misfits go, we are all exceptionally good at customer service. I may be the grumpiest one of the lot, but usually it's just my "thinking face" and it isn't really an indication of grumpy-ness.

The fact that I am very good at customer service and am such a solitary person is so contradictory. Perhaps it works well because I can retreat back inside my head when I get home or do repetitious work in the greenhouse or perennial yard.

When I don't have time to spend, inside my head, sorting, I get very irritable. Ask G. He is usually the innocent bystander to my irritable outbursts. When the children lived with us, I would tend to scream at them, also. My son reminded me of this on the long car ride from Ohio. Delightful.

I am feeling particularly misfitted these days. Like a snake needing to shed it's too tight skin. I'm not sure what, exactly, is too tight and needs shedding. But it's there, pinching and irritating me. Making me less than pleasant company. Could be the lack of sun has made matters worse. I need sun to charge my batteries.

G is spraying mosquito killer on the woods so we don't get chewed to death by the blood sucking vipers. I am eying trees that I want removed to allow more wind to flow across the yard. The neighbors are up in arms about the deer eating our roses and hydrangea. They have eaten the whole side off my new plum tree (up next to the house). The deer have plenty to eat in the woods. So we have decided to challenge the covenants and build fences. The dog across the street has gone blind from diabetes. So much chaos. Not much zen.

I think I want to go shopping for a large glass container for dog food, a large French coffee press and perhaps a coffee grinder. (Target?) And the dining room table is getting a makeover. No more craft materials. It's all going back into the workroom. And I am going to draft a pattern for king size pillow cases to use some of the lovely printed fabric in the fabric closet. I love pillow cases. I especially love mixing several with an assortment of sheets. My bed always looks so "interesting". Wish I had more beds to play house with.

Playing House. That was my all time favorite "play". In Kindergarten, I had a wooden house, child size, with furniture and dishes. This is the reason I "didn't play well with others" as I wanted the house to myself, all day, every day. Later, Santa brought me my own little table and chairs, china dishes and crib for my doll. I even had a tiny stove and fridge. I'm still "Playing House".

July First

Still cold and rainy. But, my favorite flowers are blooming. Rose Campion. Very difficult to find as a plant or in seed form. I saved seeds for years and when I began working at the greenhouse last spring so many people asked for it---- and I packaged seeds and gave them all away. I hoped, with fingers crossed, that some of my plants would return. They are biennial. Meaning they produce flowers every other year and make little rosettes of leaves in between. If you have enough seeds scattered around, you get some rosettes and some flowers every year.

I usually scout around my yard looking for rosettes and I dig them up and transplant them to one spot so I have a large grouping of Rose Campion to enjoy. This year, with the major digging and weeding of the perennial beds here at my house, I finally have the little beauties right next to the back porch and near my chair. Tall silvery stems with flat open magenta flowers right on the tippy top.

My friend P brought those veggie burgers over yesterday along with some wonderful bread and pickled green tomatoes. We had a lovely dinner together with some organic wine (a bit thin) and then went to Art club together. Only five of us. But we enjoyed each other's company and I stitched two circles.

I was describing Riley's behaviour yesterday with the car to my husband this morning, and I finally realized what the dog had noticed immediately (and I had failed to see). I was asking him to jump out of the car WAY too close to the invisible fence line. Smart dog.

G is vacuuming the floors. I am washing clothes. Riley is resting up for his walk in the woods. The skies are overcast. The grass needs cutting. We are going out for lunch. Which probably means no dinner needs to be cooked. All that food I bought on Monday!!!

Who cares? I'm just going to go with my whims today. Do what feels good. Pretend I'm on vacation. A vacation where you do laundry. Which, actually, is what I do on vacation. The first place I visit in any hotel is the laundry to see what they have available. I also iron in my room. I don't overpack so I need to wash clothes even when we are only gone a week.

I looked into the garden yesterday while taking Riley out and noticed that I have small yellow squash growing. Cute. And the cucumber plants are finally sending out those curling tendrils and grabbing hold of the trellis. And the roses are blooming. And the leaf lettuce is ready to pick, wash and eat with salt, olive oil and Balsamic vinegar.

Those stacked (neatly) bodies out on the balcony with all their luggage? Could those be all the things I have put aside "for later" like painting, travel and art? Or were they just dead bodies?