Friday, November 8, 2024

Long Weekend - November 8, 2024

Thank goodness for Friday, and for the long weekend ahead.  

It's been a tough week, physically tough.  I would like nothing better than to spend the next three days in pajamas, but that'll never happen.  A good chunk of tomorrow is already filled, first with a mid-day trip to the Big City to watch ten-year-old Granddaughter #3 do gymnastics, and then to my brother's house to visit with his family.  There's nothing in the refrigerator except pickles and jelly and some whisker-y carrots that need to go to the compost pile, so I ought to go to the grocery store at some point, but I probably won't.  There are too many other things I want to do, such as painting or reading.  

Over the past couple of weeks, three new books have come in the mail.  All three are diaries of women who lived in middle Tennessee during the Civil War.  I've been getting up early to read, mostly as research for my family history.  These three women are not related to me, as far as I know.  Most of my relatives in that era would not have been able to keep diaries, for most of them could not read or write and could not have afforded pencil and paper. I am just reading to see what life was like in those days, and how women framed their sentences.  

As for painting, I'd like to work on the tire cover that I bought for the Wrangler.  I'm doing it with oil paints, which takes FOREVER to dry, especially when the air is damp as it is now.  I started this thing a month ago and have been moving it back and forth between my craft table and various chair backs, trying to keep it out of the traffic so that no rug-rat - or grown-ass old woman - brushes against it while it dries.  There's not much left to do, really; I ought to just finish it.  It'll be such a nice surprise for that egghead who tailgates me all the way to work.  

I'd also like to work on some Christmas cards.  Watercolor.  I ordered some new brushes yesterday.  They won't arrive for weeks, but the old ones will hold up long enough to do the cards.  

The Husband's cousin David (Cousin Roger's brother) gave me a very cool gift this week, a sewing basket that belonged to his mother or grandmother.  It is a cane basket, darkened with age, shaped like a shallow bowl, with a flat detached lid.  It contained supplies for hand sewing.   The bottom was full of old buttons.  It looks really cool on the sewing room shelf.

Nanny just called to report that there's a strange truck "with some kind of government tags" parked at the end of her driveway.  She said the windows were too dark to see inside, and that she'd pecked on the window, but nobody answered.  She'd written down the license number.  There was talk of loading the shotgun.  I went outside to eyeball the truck while on the phone with her but didn't recognize the truck and didn't see anyone inside it (the windows certainly were dark!) or anywhere around. I told her I'd keep an eye out.  When we hung up, I took a picture of the truck and walked around the back to take a picture of the license plate.  It was a temporary tag in a car dealer frame, not a "government " tag.  I sent the pictures to Son #1, suspecting it is his stepson's truck.  Sure enough, it is.  The driver is most likely stalking deer in the woods behind the house.  I called Nanny back and told her to unload the gun.   

It's almost margarita time.  









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