Sunday

 What I shouldn’t have done

          I realized this morning that I’d sent a warning shot across my own bow last night. I’d thawed out two pieces of fabulously rich leftover birthday cake for us to enjoy in front of the TV. Good news/bad news: It was just as excellent as the day we’d first cut it. I lay in bed this morning while my stomach considered what I’d done to it; not good when you feel fat in your pajamas. And just as ominously as when it was intoned on Game of Thrones – Winter is coming. Winter, the time of sitting on your keister and comfort meals with all things white: pasta, potatoes, bread.

 

What I should do

          Get outside and tidy up the garden. I’ve left it to go to seed in the hope that the 

black-eyed Susans will spread. Also, I looked out of the window the other day to see a bright yellow finch swaying on the end of one slender flower stalk, busily pecking away at the seed head. This needs to be done, though, because in a week maintenance guys with hoses will be power washing all of our units and we need to clear a path for them to get to the buildings.

 

What I’m not supposed to do (but will anyway)

          Our complex is surrounded by woods, much of it preserve. We’re forbidden to dork around with said woods in any way, even though I know for a fact some residents have cleared away spaces on the edges to plant decorative bushes, or have even cleared away ground cover so they can see more deeply into the forest.

          The previous owner of our unit must have been quite the gardener. Our stretch of woods is ringed with azaleas and rhododendrons, none of which bloom, probably because in the intervening years the trees have grown and brought more shade.

          One of these rhodies has grown to an epic size, perfect for screening my compost pile from prying eyes. In my defense, even though I haul tubs and tubs of weeds and cuttings back there every year, the pile has stayed exactly the same size since everything dried and rotted. If it weren’t full of poison ivy and creepy things, I’d dig underneath for some of that good dirt. My biggest challenge is casually sauntering back there dragging my big blue tub without anyone being the wiser.

Books and Buses

 

I’ve just returned from the library, where I picked up books for two upcoming events.

Small Things

 

Fall's coming: The sedum's in bloom

This morning I woke up to a mama deer and baby in the back yard.

Good Sports

 

Harbingers

 

Years back, when we used to have a house on a lake, we spent Labor Day weekend packing it up for the winter tenants, the ones who were kind enough to pay the mortgage so we could afford a second home.

Let a gal keep her mystery

 

I was just reading in today’s Boston Globe about this weekend’s convergence of Nessie hunters at Loch Ness. Apparently the place is being stormed with drones, infrared cameras, and microphones to detect underwater sounds.

End of August

 

Little to report here – hence the week+  long absence.

Neither sleet nor rain . . .

 When I first read about check washing, my first thought was that it was a city phenomenon, not something that would reach our small Massachusetts town.

Chicken in the Pot

 

I cooked a whole chicken last night, something I haven’t done in a while.

Withdrawal and Love Apples

          Last night was my second non-Nyquil night. 

Try again next week

 

The theme for this week seems to be one of cancellations.

Not just for millionaires

 

Sometimes I feel vaguely defensive about playing golf, long considered the pastime of idle fat cats in white shoes and ugly pants.

A good day all around

 

I’m happy to report that I’m going to unpack my hospital “go” bag.

SNAFU Update

 

Thanks to all you kind people who took the time to think about and write in with suggestions on solving my technical issue. 

SNAFU

      The acronym that is today's title seems apt in my dealings with blog technology. Just when I think things are cooking along nicely, the 'ping!" of a monkey wrench in the works announces itself. 

      If I seem disinterested in your kind comments, be assured that's not the case. For some reason I've now become anonymous when I try to reply. The ghost in the machine still allows me to activate your comments; I just can't respond to them as myself. 

    This is either due to the fun and whimsical way Blogger like to toss a stumbling block in from time to time, or perhaps something was fiddled with when I took my laptop into the shop for a renewal of my virus software. I'll keep researching. 

     Or - has anyone else had the problem lately?

Climate and Cookies

 

          Peaches around here will likely be few and far between, thanks to an freak late frost that occurred this spring just as buds were forming.

Past Footsteps

For those of us who are homeowners, the people who came before are shadowy figures.

End of the week wrap up

The end of my week brought redemption and adventure.

Flawed Conversation

    

      I’m on the verge of painting my toenails a wild and crazy color today.

Bunnies and Bragging Gone Bad

 

 

I suspect this cutie with the counterfeit expression of innocence is the one who munched the tops off of my daisies.

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

 I actually walked through the living room this morning in my nightgown.

Planned Obsolescence

 

Yet one more home project is keeping my kitchen appliances happy. They’ve been with us less than a year and yet they’ve settled in as some of the needier members of the household.

In Summary

 Since I've been bad, bad, bad about blogging this week, perhaps I can cover my bases by hitting the high (and low) points of the past few days. 

From Oysters to Mercury

 

We were away this weekend visiting delightful daughter and family, fitting in a generational pickleball game and a blowout clambake-style dinner at their house, featuring mussels, steamers, and oysters, topped off by some very respectable red snapper.

Time and Tea

 

Under seige

 This was the view out our front door this morning. Roofer tarps galore.

Heads Up!

 At 7:30 this morning I was out. Dead to the world, at one with my pillow, asleep.

 

Then, BAM! BAM! BAM!

 

 

 

 

 

 

As you can see, thanks to the camera we have in the garage window, the roofers had arrived, starting early to miss this afternoon’s rain.

Their goal was to complete the garage, which they finished off efficiently. 

 

The only snag for us was trying to get out, since their ladders were positioned right over the garage doors, and the big bucket loader collecting old shingles and bringing new came and went in the driveway. But it’s done and now we have all the rest of the roof to look forward to next week.

Putting a lid on it

  The call from our complex’s management company came in on Tuesday: The roofers would be starting in on our building on Thursday.

The first one's free

 

          What with electronic bill paying, the advent of email and then texting, our mailbox is often pretty barren.

Dental Daydreams

 

Off to the dentist’s office at high noon today, the hygienist at one end of the showdown, pick in hand, and me there at the other end with nothing but my plaque to protect me.

Golf Drama

Outside of playing so badly lately that I’ve come darn close to throwing myself onto the fairway and pounding the ground in frustration, golf can be a serene experience.

Morning stroll

 

I set off for this morning’s walk with low expectations, and was happily surprised.

Use it or lose it

 I’ll soon be carting another batch of things off for donation somewhere.

One small step

I have big feet.

Caught by surprise

I finally was able to do something pretty darned exciting yesterday – laundry.

Flowers and Fruit

 

Yesterday was a bit less frenetic.

My Guy has left me for his art. 

 

Tragedy, Conviviality, Conquest

 

A busy Thursday

          My morning began with 48 degree weather on the golf course, but it gradually warmed up to a toasty 60. If only I could say the same thing about my game, which was abysmal. 20 extra strokes abysmal.

Daunting

Read any of the Ladies No. 1 Detective Agency series and it’s easy to be convinced it was written by a native African woman, the voice is so authentic.

Strange Encounter

I was back at the library yesterday, this time for more books.

Noshing at the Library

The public library isn’t the first place that comes to mind when you think of Mediterranean food, but that’s what happened. Now that I’m back home, I checked in with a group I discovered last December – a cookbook club. The idea is that a cookbook is chosen for the next meeting, members check it out from the library, choose something to make, and meet to try out the results.

          Interesting food that someone else cooked – what’s not to like? Offerings including a beef and pasta dish with hints of cinnamon, an asparagus-lemon-rice-goat cheese cold salad, polenta with parmesan, a risotto with shrimp, and mine – an artichoke, pepper, and chickpea tagine.

          I mostly chose mine because it had ingredients I’d actually heard of and bought. Too many of the recipes required things that were not only exotic, but seemed as though they’d be difficult to track down.

          It was easy to make, in spite of having 19 separate ingredients, and was kind of a surprise in every bite. Probably because along with the title ingredients, it called for cinnamon, coriander, cumin, ginger, 8! cloves of garlic, golden raisins, honey, yogurt, kalamata olives, and cilantro.  

          It must have been a success because when I went to gather up my big pot to take home, it was almost empty.