Peach butter, and peach pie. I put pastry cutouts on the top of the pie, something I like to do to make a pie pretty. I have tiny cutters: a couple of different leaves, a star, a heart. This pie has leaves. Southern Living suggests painting your pastry cutouts with food coloring, and I have done that for Thanksgiving dinner, but this was enough fooling around in the kitchen for a summer day.
I ended up sneaking into the choir room halfway through the run-through of this week’s anthem. Rehearsal had been canceled this week because the organist’s mother was having surgery, and the attendance at rehearsals has been pretty low anyway. The director had picked an anthem out of a hat, I guess, imagining that everyone would remember it from some earlier performance.
He chose the one that they think either I or #2 daughter sang the solo on. The one that I do not remember at all. I walked directly into a hideous squawking rendition of it, and got to sing along on the ending. There were lots of disgruntled murmurings in the choir room, but it was too late to do anything about it. I snuck surreptitious looks at the music all through the service, hoping to learn it before we sang. When it came to it, I sang out with gusto, because it was too late to do anything else.
It was also too hot to do anything at all yesterday. We had a heat advisory, an “extreme” rating on whatever they’re rating. So I got the first Jasmine sleeve almost finished while reading Christopher Buckley’s Little Green Men.
Buckley is a favorite author of mine. This book’s premise is that the government is faking all signs of UFOs, in order to distract people from what is really going on. The book mentions several kinds of alien encounters, including the kind that I have experienced.
Have I ever told you about my alien encounter? I was driving down an unlighted dirt road with a car full of kids, when all of a sudden some odd lights appeared in the sky. I stopped the car — the road was entirely deserted, so there was no need to pull over, I just stopped so we could watch the weird lights.
As we were watching — “goofily,” Buckley said, in describing this kind of encounter — the radio and headlights went out. I had to drive the rest of the way home (we lived in the country then, with no streetlights or pavement or anything) in complete darkness with no lights.
I took the car to be fixed, but the electric bits were never really good again, and the mechanics couldn’t figure out why. We refer to that event as “the time the aliens sucked all the electricity out of the car.”
Just for the record, I do not believe that alien beings used their spaceship to suck the electricity out of my car. I would be willing to believe in the existence of creatures from other planets if I were ever presented with evidence, but until then Buckley’s story seems just as likely.
The new Sew?IKnit project is quilting, which may encourage me to get back to my quilt, a WIP that has been being ignored for so long that it is almost a UFO (unfinished object) at this point. The SewRetro and Knit the Classics projects are still swirling around in my mind. I obviously have too many WIPs, and too many on the verge of being UFOs, too.