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They’re between 3 and four inches across. The top one has already found a home.

Maybe I should use it for something.


Scenes from Chequamegon Bay, Friday afternoon.

George Saunders, writing about people he’s met at Trump rallies.

I’m sorry, I can’t summarize it. I mean, there’s some great take-away lines in it; the bit about the castle is pretty amazing. But if you only read that bit, you won’t see the people – all the people, young and old, witty and dull. It’s brilliant writing, no matter where you are.


Summer kitchen.

“We have to be as big as the values that define America. And we are a big-hearted, fair-minded country. We teach our children that this is one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. Not just for people who look a certain way or worship a certain way or love a certain way. For all. Indivisible.”

– Hillary Rodham Clinton

I have no idea how long it’s been – at least since Monday. Katniss is a weather-dependent cat; she has been a puddle, to the point where I’ve had to actively search my memory to find the last time she was awake. Thank goodness we are creatures of habit here. One of her habits is to sit on the kitchen table till we give her water in the measuring cup, both morning and evening, so that we pet her for a minute while she drinks. Daughter and I might be “casual,” but not the cat.

Anyway. Bits of daylight.


My life would be well-served by a good raincoat and hat. We don’t want to melt now, do we?

I do these little faces.


She’s tiny, maybe 1 1/2 inches high? Caption says “she’s not really sad, just tired and maybe perplexed.”


I start with a shape, and poke at it.


Baseball cap guy is an inch tall.

These guys make my sketchbooks a little creepy. There’s all these people staring out at me. I suppose I could quit doing it, but then these people wouldn’t get a chance to exist.

Garden is almost in. I’m going to look for pavers, to make a flat space around my clothes line for a few more pots. I have to fill the front planter box and plant it, and get tomatoes into buckets, and pick up the mini monarch oasis that a local school is selling for a fundraiser. I want to line a clay saucer with pebbles, grout it and seal it for a bird bath. I want a million things, but that’s the very short list of things that will probably happen with my garden this year. The big crisis was that I was going to forego vinca vines this year, so I planted the hanging baskets with petunias and alyssum. Then I bought vinca vines anyway and put them in their own basket. And now I’m looking at them and trying soooo hard to not dig them up and put them in with the petunias. Not like I’m neurotic with a dollop of OCD or anything. Do something different, Kirsten! It won’t hurt you, I promise. I might still dig them up and plant them in dead coffee pots, just for fun.

You go along for days and weeks and months concentrating on this jumble of yarn in your lap, paying attention one loop at a time (or not, sometimes, but that’s another story). And then you get to the last row, and the bind-off takes over a half hour, but all of a sudden it’s free! and you have this wonderful winged creature that’s been hidden in a lumpy mess.


Reyna, from Ravelry. I am even showing you the photo where you can see that I didn’t move the marker correctly, and my center has slipped. I care, and am horribly embarrassed, but I really like this pretty. You’ll never see that it’s off when it’s lumped up around my neck – and upper torso, because it is huge! About 2 meters across, maybe 80 centimeters down. Makes me happy.


But notice up on top where it’s a quiet, earthy thing, and down below where it’s Mardi Gras? I did the alternating rows thing a grand total of once (if you look hard, you can see where), and decided to pretend that I wanted those bright colors down there. I like the meshiness. I’m planning on doing a pillbox sort of hat and a pair of fingerless mitts or maybe mittens out of the rest. Someday.

I really love knitting lace shawls. I think I like wearing them nearly as much. I need more, I’m sure.

And also, the color in these images sucks. And it’s wrong side out. I apologize.

I’ve got a skein of fingering weight from Gnarled Paw, that I think will be my next victim.

Have a tulip or two.


Dumb weather. I am a little frustrated with this spring. Also cloudy skies. But the fire danger has dropped from Don’t Breathe! to very low. I’ve been janitoring at work a lot, because the printer I need to work from is down, and it’s starting to annoy me – except for some dumb reason I am proud of how good the classroom looks. I am doomed to scrub forever. (I even pulled the fridges and swept and mopped behind them. Gads.)


These are a lovely shell pink IRL, but warm-light CFLs will have their way with things.


Can’t mow. The bees need them. And boy howdee, did I see a big bumbler bumbling along this morning.

It was 95º F on Friday, here. 50’s – 60’s for this week, and sunny.


Stories. Every picture tells one.


I was on the phone. I took a chance. And then I opened Gimp. Opened it like a pro, if I do say so myself.

I was at the happy job today, washing the front windows. A woman walked by, our eyes met, we smiled. Because we live in paradise, and we know it.