rose down
rose down

I do feel sorry for the weatherpeople in the Northwest. It’s hard to predict our weather. It comes down from Alaska and up from California and across from Hawaii and sometimes all of those at once. On the east coast they have plenty of time to watch the weather as it crosses the nation and have a good idea of what it will actually be when it gets there.

Sunday the weatherguy (station will remain nameless) said that we would have a storm on Monday, and it would be a little windy, but not really that bad. Maybe gusts of 20 MPH or so.

Yeah. Right.

I worked from home on Monday. As I typed away on my computer back in the back corner bedroom, I heard the wind pick up. Pretty soon it was howling around the house. Then I heard…

swish swish swwwwiiiisssshhhh creek creek CREEEK WHACK WHACK WHACK BANG

OMG, WTF! I said, and other expletives that will remain deleted on this usually family-friendly little space. I ran to the window.

For the last 10 years, a willow arch has framed the entrance to the back yard at the corner of the house. A Climbing Iceberg rose grew on it.

Note, gentle reader, that I am using past tense.

I tried to lift the arch back up, but it is old and came apart in my hands. I stood in the rain and wind and mourned my rose, that had snapped off at the base. It was lovely — but did sort of grab people going through the arch. It was… friendly.

I came back inside and called my yard guy.

Brett, you know that clean-up you are coming to do tomorrow? Yeah… I have a little extra clean-up that’s needed this year.

I have finished the shell edging on The Great Green Glob. You know how I was looking forward to the I-cord? Now that I’m there… not so much. This is going to be a slog. But I will persevere!

Confidential to Bobbie: If I knit your top-down raglan pattern from my coned yarn, I’d probably just end up giving it to someone like Chrispy. 😈



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  • Thought of the Minute
    • The whole world is festering with unhappy souls ...
      The French hate the Germans, the Germans hate the Poles ...
      Italians hate Yugoslavs, South Africans hate the Dutch ...
      And I don't like anybody very much.

      (Lyrics by Sheldon Harnick)
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