Here’s a shot of George in the morning. [Please don’t EVER think he’s named for the president. My George is beautiful and intelligent.] Yesterday I came home at five in the morning from work, and this was taken in the early pre-dawn light. The camera picked up way more light than my eyes could, but I like how the poppies are still closed, sleeping, waiting for the sun.
And a woodshed, for Em.
The next door neighbors, a young couple who are redoing their house, are eventually going to fix up their yard and put up a fence. I don’t blame them. They have a lovely huge backyard and right now it’s my front yard. There are no barriers and no boundaries; their plants come right up to my front doorstep. They have two small children, and they need a fence of some sort. I understand that. I kind of know in my heart, also, that George rests right along the imaginary fence line, and he’ll probably have to go. Even if he didn’t get uprooted, I wouldn’t be able to see him with a fence, so I’m spending as much quality time admiring him as I can.
Ooooh. Even though I totally understand, I’m going to HATE a fence.
And here’s sister Christy! Socks! Koigu! She’s going into her very last month in the graduate program at Berkeley in Environmental Planning. She needed some hot pink socks to keep her happy and focused. Yep.
And to complete this quick, disjointed post, a thought from Silvia, with whom I discussed the need for a loose knitters support group. She suggested several fabu slogans, including “Loose knitters are sexy.” I’ll say. Snort.
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