Yesterday was a lovely, spring-like day, so it was quiet at work. Our pen rep came to visit. He reminds me of Clint Eastwood — if Clint Eastwood had become a pen salesman
and part-time Tulsa nightclub singer. He always brings us the coolest new pens — this time, it was this one: the Ergo-Sof. But overall it was a quiet day. I spent it unpacking things and thinking.
You might suppose that I would think of matters of great pith and moment, and sometimes of course I did. But I also spent some time thinking about small things. For example, I found the exact shade of cobalt blue yarn I wanted for my bathmat, but it is a wool blend. Wool is absorbent, but acrylic sure isn’t — would it be like a wet dog on the bathroom floor? And there is always Sugar’n’Cream worsted-weight cotton, but it doesn’t come in quite the color I had in mind. The pattern calls for Reynolds Morocco, a bulky cotton/linen, which 
would feel great, comes in just that shade of blue, and costs $10 a skein plus (since it’s not available locally) shipping. For something to step on? Of course, a store-bought bath mat of that quality would cost much more. But I had just gotten the estimate from the dentist for #2 son’s upcoming dental work, so I had been mentally rehearsing my budget anyway.
Once I had exhausted that subject — not by deciding, just by getting tired of it — my thoughts turned to the upcoming visit of Pokey and her contingent of boys. She always seems to travel with a contingent of boys. Not the same ones — she seems to have an inexhaustible supply. So I was thinking about what to feed them. Since they are coming from KC, my first thought was of course to roast them an ox. However, one of them has stayed with us a couple of times before. If I were a really good hostess, I would have written down the menus in the book I kept for the purpose, and I would know how many times I had already served this fellow roasted ox, but I didn’t. I cannot, in fact, remember what I served him before at all, except that he was here for the gingerbread and peach frozen yogurt with caramel sauce and slivered almonds, which was so good I thought of serving it again.
No decisions have been made on that subject, either. After all, on a gorgeous spring-like day, when one is unpacking box after box of stickers, the mind can drift a bit. Last night I heard the first faint sound of the peepers — the little frogs which make such an ungodly racket once the weather really starts getting warm. Sleet is predicted for Friday morning, so I am resisting all temptations to go out and play in the garden, but it’s difficult.
I can’t see the pictures of the pens 🙁 . I picked up the Spring 2005 issue of Interweave knits today and they have a pattern for a oval knit rug in it. I’m thinking of knitting one, eventually. A hand knit bathmat sounds cushy and wonderful, I know that you can get cushy and wonderful at the store, but it’s just not the same.
We have at least 3 more months before we’ll have consistently warm weather (it can snow well into June). This time of year I start thinking about my garden as I look out at my frozen yard. I’ve promised #2 son that we would plant onion starts (he wants “lots”) and some tomatoes in pots up against the house where it’s warmest. We’ll plant pie pumpkins and summer squash and some lettuce. I have months to plan the rest….
Love the pen.
We used to hear little frogs in the evening but some years ago they apparently disappeared from the NZ scene. It even got mentioned in papers – where have all the frogs gone? The working theory was that water pollution had killed them all. I don’t remember hearing them for quite some time. I rather liked their songs.
I think you should bake them a giraffe. I hope your oven’s long enough. Nothing hits the spot like baked giraffe. ESPECIALLY if you’re part of a contingency. Keep it copasetic. Peace.
Thank you so much for your encouragement. I spoke with him about your suggestion, and he says he is going to wait and see what happens. I’m a little surprised that she hasn’t contacted him already, since he had an appointment but she had to cancel. I think he feels a little hopeless – even when he gets in to see her, his treatment options from here are limited, unpleasant, and risky.