Well, it's beyond time for another post.
Of course, I'm not sure what to post about. Ho hum. I could wax poetical about the fantastically gorgeous weather--again. I could comment on the baby deer--again. I could rejoice in my new washing machine, but that would just be painfully dull. I could reflect on what it means to be a single gal in America, but I'm not much for public, emotional baring-of-souls, and I'm not feeling the rational half of the issue just now.
What I should do is get to work. I think I'll do that--leaving y'all with the comforting (maybe) knowledge that even the Wonderspools is occasionally at a loss for appropriate commentary.
Peace out.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
time to mow the lawn again
I’m the furthest thing from sentimental
and yet
and yet
the beauty of the early-morning summer sky
that fresh, brand-new air
the world aglow with new possibility
makes my heart just ache
and ache
and ache
and yet
and yet
the beauty of the early-morning summer sky
that fresh, brand-new air
the world aglow with new possibility
makes my heart just ache
and ache
and ache
Thursday, June 12, 2008
fabric utopia
I sew. I do. Whether or not it's cool, I like it. I also just love fabric in general. Mmm. Lovely, delicious fabric. As I've been living in a house with plenty of space, I've been able to get my fabric out of it's bulging tub and into this nice shelving unit in the second bedroom--aka, the sewing room. Ah. An entire room just for sewing. Marvelous!
So, I had plenty of fabric bits and bobs...and then my parents moved, and my mother (a far better seamstress than I) decided it was time to purge her 30-year fabric collection. And VOILA!
Fabric Utopia! Ugly upholstery fabric! Canvas! Fleece! Salvaged tablecloths and sheets! Cotton remnants! I could sew for months without leaving the house. And if you look closely on the upper right-hand border, you can see there is more stacked in the closet next to the shelves.
Life is good.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
oh deer!
The other day I realized that it had been a while since I'd seen my "regulars" in the yard--a doe and her two yearlings. (Ok, so I assume they are both hers--how could I ask her?) When I "met" them last August, they were a momma and two large fawns. Despite the gratuitous quantities of deer that I regularly see, I fancied that I could always pick them out, even when the fawns lost their spots. Not many does travel with two young. So, when I stopped seeing them, I suddenly realized a possible why--and an answer to why I haven't been seeing many deer at all lately.
It's spring! Birthing season. Think Bambi in the thicket. So, had my favorite deer family expanded? How could I know?
I can't know, not for sure. But yesterday evening, as I looked out the living room window in the pre-twilight gray, I saw a doe trot out of the heavy brush that borders the woods just west of my house. She was followed by the smallest fawn I have ever seen.
And I--even I--stopped to saw "aw, how adorable!" I think my cat could beat this little thing up. It was so small and wobbly--and absolutely all legs.
They are definitely nesting? roosting? bedding down? in that patch of thick brush and bramble close to my house. Hopefully, that means I'll see them again, and I'll get to watch that little guy grow.
And maybe I'll get to see his big siblings too. Though they're probably off with families of their own now. The next time I see the herd, I'll ask.
It's spring! Birthing season. Think Bambi in the thicket. So, had my favorite deer family expanded? How could I know?
I can't know, not for sure. But yesterday evening, as I looked out the living room window in the pre-twilight gray, I saw a doe trot out of the heavy brush that borders the woods just west of my house. She was followed by the smallest fawn I have ever seen.
And I--even I--stopped to saw "aw, how adorable!" I think my cat could beat this little thing up. It was so small and wobbly--and absolutely all legs.
They are definitely nesting? roosting? bedding down? in that patch of thick brush and bramble close to my house. Hopefully, that means I'll see them again, and I'll get to watch that little guy grow.
And maybe I'll get to see his big siblings too. Though they're probably off with families of their own now. The next time I see the herd, I'll ask.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Love: 20¢ the First Quarter Mile
by Kenneth Fearing
All right. I may have lied to you and about you, and made a few
pronouncements a bit too sweeping, perhaps, and possibly forgotten
to tag the bases here or there,
And damned your extravagance, and maligned your tastes, and libeled
your relatives, and slandered a few of your friends,
O.K.,
Nevertheless, come back.
Come home. I will agree to forget the statements that you issued so
copiously to the neighbors and the press,
And you will forget that figment of your imagination, the blonde from Detroit;
I will agree that your lady friend who lives above us is not crazy, bats,
nutty as they come, but on the contrary rather bright,
And you will concede that poor old Steinberg is neither a drunk, nor
a swindler, but simply a guy, on the eccentric side, trying to get along.
(Are you listening, you [w]itch, and have you got this straight?)
Because I forgive you, yes, for everything.
I forgive you for being beautiful and generous and wise,
I forgive you, to put it simply, for being alive, and pardon you, in short, for being you.
Because tonight you are in my hair and eyes,
And every street light that our taxi passes shows me you again, still you,
And because tonight all other nights are black, all other hours are cold
and far away, and now, this minute, the stars are very near and bright.
Come back. We will have a celebration to end all celebrations.
We will invite the undertaker who lives beneath us, and a couple of
boys from the office, and some other friends.
And Steinberg, who is off the wagon, and that insane woman who lives
upstairs, and a few reporters, if anything should break.
All right. I may have lied to you and about you, and made a few
pronouncements a bit too sweeping, perhaps, and possibly forgotten
to tag the bases here or there,
And damned your extravagance, and maligned your tastes, and libeled
your relatives, and slandered a few of your friends,
O.K.,
Nevertheless, come back.
Come home. I will agree to forget the statements that you issued so
copiously to the neighbors and the press,
And you will forget that figment of your imagination, the blonde from Detroit;
I will agree that your lady friend who lives above us is not crazy, bats,
nutty as they come, but on the contrary rather bright,
And you will concede that poor old Steinberg is neither a drunk, nor
a swindler, but simply a guy, on the eccentric side, trying to get along.
(Are you listening, you [w]itch, and have you got this straight?)
Because I forgive you, yes, for everything.
I forgive you for being beautiful and generous and wise,
I forgive you, to put it simply, for being alive, and pardon you, in short, for being you.
Because tonight you are in my hair and eyes,
And every street light that our taxi passes shows me you again, still you,
And because tonight all other nights are black, all other hours are cold
and far away, and now, this minute, the stars are very near and bright.
Come back. We will have a celebration to end all celebrations.
We will invite the undertaker who lives beneath us, and a couple of
boys from the office, and some other friends.
And Steinberg, who is off the wagon, and that insane woman who lives
upstairs, and a few reporters, if anything should break.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
"closet" pet peeves
1. Hoods that cannot actually be worn
2. Faux trouser pockets
3. T-shirts so thin you have to buy two
4. Nylons
2. Faux trouser pockets
3. T-shirts so thin you have to buy two
4. Nylons
Thursday, May 15, 2008
summer cometh
A bold statement to make? Perhaps. Especially since there was a nice glisten of frost on the lawn this morning. But summer is definitely coming. And soon. How do I know?
Because summer softball starts tomorrow. And I, for one, am darn near geeked about it. I just plain old love to play. Granted, it's just church league coed slow pitch, but last year we weren't half bad. I have a fabulous sliding scar to prove it. Actually, to be technically honest, I have three scars. A triple hit, as it were. But the ones on my ankle and lower hip are inconsequential compared to the palm-sized beauty on the outside of my knee.
I had shorts and low socks on, ok? I didn't really expect to be sliding. But the right fielder blew the throw and I had a chance to stretch a triple into a homer...so of course I did it. The only problem was, the ump didn't clear the bat for me, so at the last second I had to sort of hop over it before going down into my slide. Hence the triple scar. It was a junior-high level slide. Not so graceful.
But I was safe and that's all that counts. That and the fact that I earned some points with my more masculine teammates. Ha.
But enough reliving the past! Tomorrow a new season starts! What has been done last year doesn't matter. Ol' Red and I are ready for another season at first base. And...I have tall socks now. Bring on the gravel!
Because summer softball starts tomorrow. And I, for one, am darn near geeked about it. I just plain old love to play. Granted, it's just church league coed slow pitch, but last year we weren't half bad. I have a fabulous sliding scar to prove it. Actually, to be technically honest, I have three scars. A triple hit, as it were. But the ones on my ankle and lower hip are inconsequential compared to the palm-sized beauty on the outside of my knee.
I had shorts and low socks on, ok? I didn't really expect to be sliding. But the right fielder blew the throw and I had a chance to stretch a triple into a homer...so of course I did it. The only problem was, the ump didn't clear the bat for me, so at the last second I had to sort of hop over it before going down into my slide. Hence the triple scar. It was a junior-high level slide. Not so graceful.
But I was safe and that's all that counts. That and the fact that I earned some points with my more masculine teammates. Ha.
But enough reliving the past! Tomorrow a new season starts! What has been done last year doesn't matter. Ol' Red and I are ready for another season at first base. And...I have tall socks now. Bring on the gravel!
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