Almost Like Spring

Last weekend we had an incredible storm. I woke up on Sunday morning with wind and rain pounding my windows so hard that they were actually bowing in a bit. It reminded me of the tropical storms that used to hit when I lived on the beach in Hollywood, Florida in my late teens. Then the storm blew threw and we've actually had a fairly nice week to follow. Today though, it was perfect. The sky was sunny. The air was warm, with just a bit of a nip to it, and it smelled so good. It would have been sinful to waste such a beautiful early spring day sitting inside. I've done way too much of that in my life. This afternoon was not one to be missed. So I slipped on my light coat and went for a walk. I felt positively silly wearing a coat. I should have left it at home, but the weather changes on a dime here. I was afraid that the slight nip my become more of a bite by the time I headed home. That didn't happen. Wearing a coat was ridiculous. The weather was wonderful. Even with the lovely blooms on the trees, I know that this is only fools spring. Real spring is still a month or more off. It will get cold and wet again. If I were "home", which is what I have starting calling Woodstock in my thoughts, I'd be wrapping up in quilts and drinking hot drinks. They are experiencing a late winter snow. Better that I am here.

My, oh my, what the weather is doing around the world. I have heard that it is flooding in a lot of really diverse places. It seems like much of Great Britain and Iran are under water. And in Australia, after all those fires, they are now flooding in Queensland and New South Wales. My heart goes out to everyone effected by it. It was bad enough for me last year when I was the only one experiencing it. At least every where else I went was dry and clean. It must be horrible for the whole area around you to be affected.

And do we have pandemic?  A few years ago I was living in Atlanta when the Ebola patients were treated at the CDC. I had an echo scheduled at Emory Hospital while they were there. Then they called me back to do a PET/CT scan. On the third day I was called in first thing in the morning to have an Angiogram. Three days in a row I was asked to go to the hospital that the patients were being treated at, and have an invasive procedure on one of them. The part of the hospital where the patients were was quarantined, but the hospital stayed open and working. But now, here, for Coronavirus places are getting closed down. A teacher at one of the local high schools attended a wedding where someone else got sick. They have closed the school to disinfect it. I don't think anyone actually was sick at that school. Man, they are taking this thing seriously. I'm enough of a hermit that I don't think I'm a prime candidate to get it. But then, the Three Kittens are all in school and they come here at least once a month. I wonder if this is the next world plague, or Y2K scare. When I was a kid in 5th or 6th grade a teacher asked where the best place to be when an atomic bomb dropped. I think she was going for an answer like "In a fallout shelter" or "Under your desk". I answered, "Underneath where it lands." The amount of trouble that answer got me into taught me why it is never wise to be honest with teachers. But it is how I feel about world wide disasters. You have to consider what you will be living in a worst case scenario. Some things aren't worth surviving. I've given up political commentary for Lent, so that is why you aren't seeing any of that here.

I finally decided that it was time to start taking care of myself, and got a hair cut. It's not a great picture, but it's the only one I have right now. The lighting isn't great. I'm surprised at how much the quality of my hair has changed over the past year. I've had quite a lot of hair loss and re-growth. What is growing back in is courser than it used to be. I can almost sculpt it to into shape without any product on it. It seems that the color changed too. My hair has been gray for a while, but after getting 11+ inches cut off, the hair that is left seems really white now. I'm enjoying the more manicured effect. It makes me feel better about how I looked.

I've managed to get finish a cross-stitch project. It's supposed to be a book cover, but I may put it in a carved wooden frame that I bought around Christmas. I made some mistakes that caused me to do a huge improvisation on the piece, but I'm very happy with the way that it came out. It was a very satisfying small project to do. I'm afraid that small projects are going to be the order of the day. I had forgotten how incredibly slow and knit-picky that cross-stich can be. It really takes a lot of patience. And unlike knitting, I can't read or watch TV while doing it. There are no mindless stretches. Stitch counts have to be exact. That's why I made some errors in it that caused the changes I had to make to the sampler.

I finished the pair of socks that matched my sweater and gave them to my niece. I had started them for her anyway. Then she complimented them. I felt that I had to give them to her after that. Now I am experimenting with the socks again. I went down on the stitch count and shortened to the toe and foot portion by an inch to see if the sock would fit better after it stretched with wearing. This time I'm using a different yarn. Both yarns are supposed to be the same size, but there is a huge difference in the socks. The sock I'm making now is thicker and chunkier. I really love the yarn. But I bought it on close-out and a Tuesday Morning in Georgia a few years ago. It isn't made anymore. I can find a few skeins left on the web, but they aren't in colors that I want or cost more than I want to pay for it. I'm just going to have to savor the yarn I have now and realize that another favorite yarn will show up. I really enjoy sewing, and I'm pretty decent at it for someone who is basically self taught. A few generations ago, my grandmothers were able to make a fairly decent living as seamstresses. I think it's sad that the opportunity to do that doesn't really exist anymore. For the most part, hand sewing is a hobby, and not one held in great esteem. Who knows, maybe making it a profession would take all the joy out of it anyway.

It's late, actually very early morning. I need to get to bed. I hope this day finds you well.