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| An old postcard to celebrate a spring birthday |
We have no new developments to report in our quest for “justice for Milo.” It’s disheartening. No one responds. No one apologizes. Of course, I don’t really expect apologies. The State would never apologize.
It’s still winter even though we’ve had some warmer days. Thursday morning (Leap Day), I saw the thermometer at 62, so I put on my shoes – I don’t like to wear shoes – and went out to pull dead leaves and debris from around the daylilies. I had barely started when the wind came up and the temp dropped 15 degrees, so I left off my outdoor work. The temp continued a slow decline throughout the afternoon. March was announcing itself – beautiful blue sky with fluffy white clouds, warm, cold, breezy, rainy, windy.
I have peat pots now, and I’m ready to start seeds in the kitchen window. I have a few new seed packets and some leftovers. If they don’t sprout, I’ll go to Plan B. It doesn’t really matter if nothing comes of the process, but I do enjoy watching the seeds sprout and grow on the window ledge. Gardening is always an experiment with me. I think we should try harder, though. Gardens are good for the environment.
It's getting harder and harder to buy good skim (0%) milk. No matter where I buy it because chances are that it won’t be good. I think Grandma Ina referred to such milk as “ringy.”
So, I had this milk that was off and getting worse, and I decided to use it up in a rice pudding. Now, I make a good baked custard / rice pudding, but I read a lot of online recipes and tried a new method. BIG MISTAKE!! The proportion of milk to rice was off and the pudding was stodgy. So, while Clint watched, I stirred in some condensed milk and more milk, all the time making more and more pudding. It tastes good now but is way more than we can ever eat. Clint declined to take some home.
The other night, I burned the pork I was simmering in barbecue sauce. We ate it anyway.
And then there’s the sewing and crocheting. Sometimes things just don’t go right. I struggle to make the right decisions. Is it my distracted state of mind, or am I really losing my mind? “If I take any action at all, it will be wrong,” announced Milo. I know just how he felt. KW
4 comments:
Mom didn't like to wear shoes either. She would wear flip flops or sandals all year long if she could. And I don't like to wear shoes. Must be a family thing.
Hi Becky!
Oh! the very thought of flipflops makes my foot ache. I've never been able to wear them. But -- sandals even in winter sounds great! I wear "house shoes" -- slippers with a good sole -- as I go about my daily chores.
I think a part of it is my wide toes, but another consideration is the arch, and then there's the heel. It has to come together just right or I can't wear it.
Back in the day, a standard joke was the woman trying on dozens of shoes while the salesman tore his hair out. Well, I would be that woman.
I wonder what Chuck (our brother and uncle) would say about shoes. I noticed during his last couple of visits that he wore Air Walks.
I wear slippers while in the house most of the time, and somtimes outside. My shoes are a pain to put on. I'm getting to be a person of creature comfort.
I've been a person of creature comfort since I retired -- and gratefully so. My clothes are comfortable, not stylish. I know Mother would cringe to see the way I go out in public. She put on a nice dress to go to the bank and the post office.
Mike had an appointment with a dermatologist last week. "Do I have to change my clothes," he asked. "Well," I began, "I suppose you don't have to, but my mother would have insisted on better clothes *after* you took a shower.
"Mine, too!" he said. We laughed. He went just as he was -- clean but patched.
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