I can’t be arsed to put a REAL blog post together, so let me just share a few tidbits of life chez Kellypuffs these days:
The Girl followed up her accounting win last week by reporting, again by text: “I just got a 104.3 on a statistics test. No lie.” The mind boggles.
Having failed miserably at learning to tat using a tatting shuttle, I found some great Instructables on needle tatting last week. Not having tatting needles slowed me up a bit, but I learned how to do the basics (ds and picot) on a double-pointed knitting needle. Finally, FINALLY! So, now I’m impatiently awaiting the arrival of my tatting needles from eBay. So thereafter, I will be a tatting fool.
Today’s garden inventory: The periwinkle patch in the sun is blooming. The stuff under the trees is not. The daffodils are blooming, and there are a couple of brave little red tulips standing alone in the south-facing bed. The lilac trees are JUST starting to show leaves, but there is no sign of the violets. The azaleas’ buds are showing pink now, and the forsythia is starting to bloom. My current favorites are the random grape hyacinths that are popping up all over the yard.
It’s the burning season again. Spring in New England always comes with tons of yard debris from the harsh winter, so every spring weekend, columns of smoke rise from backyards and fields everywhere. It’s even more prevalent this year, it seems, given last December’s ice storm. Himself, although he plays a New Englander well, is not a native, and so does not feel the instinctive need to burn. I, however, have bonfire envy, and have opened up the kitchen windows to catch the smoke-laden breeze from next door.
It is possible to eat 1,382 pieces of saltine toffee and not explode.
Himself has been asked to play with the Groton Marching Band and Chowder Society in Groton’s Memorial Day parade. Which means we’re looking to borrow a sousaphone. Because he could march with the 5/4 tuba, I suppose, but it wouldn’t be pretty.
I did NOT wake up Canadian yesterday, as far as I know.