Three Days of Rain

We've had three days of rain and showers and a lot of rain before that, but that isn't all bad. We're still down more than three inches in precipitation, so any rain is good, and it has provided me with plenty of time to read and knit. It's also been great for rainbows!

Please forgive the odd angle in the photo. I was trying to get the greatest amount of arc in the picture before the rainbow started to fade.

I hope that if you've got rain in the forecast for this weekend that you might also catch sight of a rainbow. 

Unraveled Wednesday: 5/28/25

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers with another installment in the current Hitchhiker. I've knit and knit on the penultimate color and it has seemed to take twice as long as many of the others (and I'm still not done with it!)

It probably wasn't the smartest thing to head out to the front lawn and fling the Hitchhiker down when John had just mowed, but that just means I'll be picking bits of grass off of it while I knit tonight.   

This project has officially become a slog. Maybe it feels so slow because I have the yarn for my next project (not a Hitchhiker!) nearby and I keep petting its alpaca, silk, and cashmere loveliness. I'm quite tempted to cast on but I fear that I'll never finish the Hitchhiker if I do. So I will slog on and hopefully finish this one soon.

I finished two books this week, and I'll start with the worst first. Broken Country by Clare Leslie Hall is a novel that clearly aims high—lyrical prose, weighty themes, and a dramatic emotional arc—but unfortunately, it collapses under the weight of its own ambition.

The core of the story revolves around a tortured love triangle involving Beth who is married to Frank and her former love, Gabriel. This could have added emotional complexity but instead felt overwrought and strangely hollow. The three central characters—each nursing their own brand of poetic suffering—move through the plot in a haze of longing, regret, and endless internal monologue. It often reads like a melodramatic stage play where everyone is perpetually mid-soliloquy.

While Hall's prose is undeniably vivid, it's also relentlessly ornate. Nearly every sentence strains for significance. Descriptions that could be poignant in moderation become exhausting when every raindrop is symbolic and every glance a metaphor. I found myself pulled out of the narrative again and again by lines that seemed more concerned with sounding profound than actually being profound.

There are a few moments when Hall’s vision of a fractured landscape mirroring emotional disintegration really works. But the vagueness of the setting and the lack of consistent internal logic made it hard to connect. Things just happen, often with little grounding, to push the love triangle forward—or to stall it dramatically.

In the end, Broken Country feels like a novel that wants to say something big about love, identity, and grief, but gets lost in its own reflection. It may resonate more with readers who enjoy poetic, impressionistic storytelling and don’t mind when plot and character development take a back seat to atmosphere. Two stars and a note to myself: Avoid celebrity book club choices in the future.

When the Cranes Fly South by Lisa Ridzén is a quietly devastating novel that follows 89-year-old Bo as he navigates the loss of autonomy in his rural Swedish home. Receiving round-the-clock care—and grappling with his son’s insistence that his dog Sixten be rehomed—Bo embarks on an emotional reckoning, piecing together memories of childhood, marriage, and lifelong friendships as he confronts the reality of his dwindling time.

Narrated in Bo’s gentle, unadorned voice and punctuated by the log-book entries of his caregivers, the structure deftly mirrors the fractured nature of his mind and the fragments of a life well lived. Ridzén’s prose is unpretentious yet evocative, capturing small moments, such as sunlight on snow or the soft weight of a loyal dog in your lap, that add to the atmosphere of the book.

Bo’s internal monologue rings true, especially in his poignant conversations with the memory of his wife. The interspersed care-team logs offer an objective counterpoint to Bo’s subjective reflections, underscoring how the everyday becomes extraordinary in hindsight. Aging, regret, and the struggle to express love are explored with compassion and insight.

While Bo is richly drawn, figures like his son Hans and longtime friend Ture occasionally felt slightly underdeveloped. I wished that more had been written about what Hans was thinking and feeling. The novel’s gentle pace perfectly suits its meditative tone. The momentum felt slow at times but fit perfectly with the tone of the book.

Overall, When the Cranes Fly South is a moving meditation on memory, dignity, and the quiet heroism at the end of life. It offers a profoundly life-affirming portrait of love and loss and is highly recommended for readers drawn to character-driven stories that balance sorrow with soulful tenderness. This one was four stars for me.

Thank you to NetGalley and Vintage for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on August 5, 2025.

What are you making and reading this week?

The Many Moods of Nugget

Really, I think that Nugget only has two moods, hungry and napping, but she's a cat, so that is as it should be.

Justin & Jess headed to Cuyahoga Falls National Park for a long weekend, so that meant I got to kitty-sit. I'm probably not really needed at all since Nugget has an automatic feeder and waterer, but no automated litter box yet. I'm glad for the chance to keep her company, give her a few treats, scoop her litter box and let her nap on my lap if I'm lucky. I also get to check on the reptiles but they are definitely not why I make the 45-minute drive to Justin's house. 

Maybe if I stare at the feeder enough, some food will appear in my bowl. She was 25 minutes early.

I took a couple of Steiff stuffed cats along just to see how Nugget would react; she was not impressed. 

She was confident enough to knock one of the cats down to get a treat I had put on the floor. 

Nugget was happier when I removed the stuffed cats and she could get back to her proper place on her pillow,

ready to settle in for a nap.

If you don't want to see the reptiles, it's time to click away. 

First up is Hammy, the hognose snake. He's just little and not too creepy looking.

They also have Chomper who is some kind of lizard, but he was hiding.

Last up is Bubbles, a 10-12 foot boa constrictor. I make sure the reptiles have water and that their heat lamps are functioning, but I've made sure they know I will not be feeding Bubbles. I think she's a bit creepy and not very much of a pet, but Jess has had her for 21 years, so to each her own.

 

Nugget is a much better pet, perfectly cuddly and thankfully, not a repulsive reptile!

A Bunch of Books

I read three books this week and thought I'd tell you about them in a book post today. 

I've enjoyed Carl Zimmer's writing before so I decided to give this one a try. Air-Borne offers a compelling and meticulously researched exploration of the invisible microbial life that inhabits the air we breathe. With his trademark clarity and enthusiasm, Zimmer takes readers on a journey from hospital rooms to mountaintops, tracing the path of airborne microbes and the surprising roles they play in everything from climate systems to pandemics.

Zimmer excels at making complex science understandable without oversimplifying. He builds narrative momentum through case studies and historical anecdotes, and readers familiar with his previous work will appreciate his steady hand in guiding us through the unseen. Particularly engaging are the chapters on the aerobiome's influence on weather patterns and how technological advances are changing our ability to detect and understand airborne organisms.

While the book is intellectually stimulating, it occasionally suffers from uneven pacing. Some sections dive so deeply into microbiological specifics that the broader narrative loses altitude, becoming more academic than accessible. A bit more narrative cohesion would have helped ground the reader in what is, ironically, a very air-bound subject.

Still, Air-Borne is an insightful and timely read in a world where the unseen world around us is more relevant than ever. Zimmer reminds us that the air isn't empty—it's alive. Readers curious about aerobiology (the science of airborne life), the frontier of microbial ecology and public health will find plenty to chew on. Three and a half stars rounded up.

I've also enjoyed several of Rachel Joyce's previous works (The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry and Miss Benson's Beetle) so I was excited to read this ARC. Rachel Joyce has a gift for exploring the quiet tragedies and small triumphs of people, and The Homemade God is no exception. With her signature blend of lyricism and introspection, Joyce crafts a narrative that examines family, siblings, grief, art, and the fragile constructs we build to make sense of a chaotic world.

The novel follows four adult siblings whose lives begin to unravel when their semi-famous painter father Vic, a man in his 70s, marries 27-year-old Bella-Mae after knowing her for only five weeks. As the story unfolds, Joyce introduces us to a cast of characters each grappling with their own search for meaning, anchored by a central motif: the idea of creating one’s own beliefs in the absence of answers.

Joyce’s prose is, as always, elegant and emotionally precise. There are passages here that are truly breathtaking, and a few moments that hit with such emotional clarity they linger long after the page is turned. However, the pacing lags quite a bit in the middle chapters as the siblings and Bella-Mae do little besides wait and drink.

Where the novel shines most is in its tender exploration of belief—not necessarily in the religious sense, but in the ways people choose to believe in love, in each other, in rituals, and just maybe, in their own ability to keep going. Joyce never offers neat resolutions, but she does offer grace, which in the case of The Homemade God is more than enough.

A thoughtful, if uneven, novel that rewards patient reading. Recommended for fans of introspective literary fiction and those who appreciated Joyce’s earlier works like The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry. Another three and ahalf stars rounded up. Thank you to NetGalley and The Dial Press for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on July 8, 2025. If you are interested, there is a Goodreads giveaway for this book. 

This last book is the best of the bunch. Lily King’s Heart the Lover is a quietly powerful, emotionally rich novel that lingers long after the final page. True to her signature style, King delivers a story that is intimate, intelligent, and deeply human—centered around love in its many forms: romantic, familial, and self-forged.

At the core of the novel is a college senior, first nicknamed Daisy and then called Jordan from The Great Gatsby, who is both vulnerable and resilient, navigating the fragile terrain of new beginnings and also grief after the loss of her mother. King’s prose is sharp but tender, layered with subtext and subtle insights that reward close reading. Her dialogue is deft and believable, and she has an incredible knack for capturing the ache of longing without tipping into sentimentality.

What stood out to me was how King explored the tension between desire and independence. The emotional arcs feel authentic, and the small, real-life details—a gesture, a glance, a half-spoken thought—also carry weight. The book moves at a measured pace, which allows the characters and their inner lives to develop slowly and meaningfully. One of the novel’s greatest strengths is its restraint—King never gives too much away too soon. Instead, the narrative unfolds with subtlety, drawing you in gradually and keeping you engaged through quiet revelations and both small and large powerful moments.

Heart the Lover is a gorgeous meditation on what it means to be open to love after loss, and how finding connection often requires facing the truths we keep hidden from even ourselves. Fans of Writers & Lovers will feel right at home, and if you haven't read Writers & Lovers you will want to after finishing this one. Four and a half stars rounded up.

Thank you to NetGalley and Grove Press for providing me with a copy of the book. It will be published on October 7, 2025. Depending on when you're reading this, there may be a Goodreads giveaway for a copy. It closes on Friday. 

We've had lots of rainy and chilly weather that seems to be made for reading. I've got plenty of books in my to-be-read queue and I hope you do, too. I'd love to hear what you're reading now!

 

Unraveled Wednesday: 5/21/25

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers with the finish of the Lapislazuli stripe that I unraveled and fixed last week and the beginning of the penultimate blue strip in La Ola. I think this means "the wave" in Spanish, which strikes me as a little different because most of Wollmeise's names are in German. 

I suppose I could call it die Wellen (the waves) or more poetically die Wellen des Meeres (the waves of the sea) but either way, it's a light blue that is not dramatically different from Lapislazuli. I'm a little unsure about it, but I'm using Kym's real estate advice and knitting more fabric before I make a real judgement. 

 

I finished three books this week and might finish another one, so I'll be back Friday with a separate book post.

What are you making and reading this week?

Sometimes Monday . . .

 . . . is the day I expand my search for chive plants. I would use chives more if I had a ready source of them at hand and didn't have to buy a bunch every time I made baked potatoes or an omelet. I planted two different types of seeds several months ago, but all I've gotten so far are the spindliest, weakest chives I've ever seen. 

They can barely withstand being watered! 

I spent last weekend going to Lowe's, Home Depot, and the two (quite pitiful) plant nurseries in our town. I did find herbs - lots of basil, some thyme, rosemary, and even lemongrass and citronella, but no chives anywhere. 

But I have a plan today. There is a lovely garden center an hour away, and it happens to be in the same town where John has a doctor's appointment. I called them yesterday and they do have chive plants. I'll be going along with John to his appointment, and then we'll go to the garden center. John likes company but I don't "ride along" very often. For some chive plants and maybe some other delightful surprises at the garden center, it's worth it.

Keep your fingers crossed that my plan works out, and I hope you're having a good Monday!

Small Celebration of Small Good Things

Things are still Going to Hell in a Handbasket, but I only have control over so much and those things are going reasonably well. Here is a small celebration of some small good things.

Good Thing 1: My youngest son celebrated his 32nd birthday yesterday. That is a good thing, but the fact that Justin is a truly wonderful young man that I'm incredibly proud of is the best.

Good Thing 2: When we went up to Ryan's on Monday, I was thrilled to find that he had baked a carrot cake. It's one of my favorites, and he was kind enough to send me home with some of it. I've been enjoying carrot cake for breakfast!

Good Thing 3: Jess and Justin will be visiting Cuyahoga Valley National Park in Ohio over Memorial Day, and that means I get to kitty-sit for Nugget. It's just a long weekend, but I do welcome any chance to visit her, scratch her ears, and give her plenty of pets and treats. 

Bonus Good Thing: Typing "Hell in a Handbasket" above prompted me to smile at a nice memory. I was driving one day and Ryan was in the backseat. I don't remember exactly how old he was, but it was whatever age kids learn state capitals, so he was probably around 10 and in fourth grade. I was quizzing him about state capitals while I drove, but our town has three traffic circles in a row and traffic gets crazy if you're not familiar with how to drive on them. Traffic was worse than usual and after narrowly avoiding rear-ending a car that had just stopped in the circle I said, "This town is going to Hell in a Handbasket!" Ryan was quiet for a little while, and finally he said," I think that Helena is the capital of Montana, not Nebraska." Now whenever I write that expression, I always think of Helena Nebraska. It's one of those gentle memories that always makes me smile. 

I'd love to celebrate the small good things in your life, so please feel free to share them in the comments!

 

Unraveled Wednesday: 5/14/25

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers with a bit of negative progress. I spied a couple of odd mistakes way back near the start of this color and briefly thought about dropping down to fix the stitches, but decided that Unraveling was safer and certainly fitting for Unraveled Wednesday.

There is still the question of what prompted me to randomly purl a couple of stitches in the middle of miles of garter stitch, but I don't have the answer to that perplexing dilemma. I'm once again knitting forward with the Lapislazuli, and I hope to move on to the penultimate blue next week. It looks almost exactly like the photo I posted last week, and it's raining once again, so I didn't throw the Hitchhiker in the lawn for another photo today.

Vicki has maintained that the Hitchhiker is "electric", which I agree with and is one of the reasons I love Wollmeise and their saturated colors. I mentioned something about changing its name to the Electric Hitchhiker and Vicki came up with a much better name:

 

So, that's officially the name now. Thanks, Vicki!

I finished one book this week and even though it feels a bit dramatic to say that I've just finished the best book I'll read this year, I'm so sure that is true that I can also say The Names by Florence Knapp is among the best books I'll ever read. 

We are introduced to Cora in the Prologue as she makes her way to the registrar's office to register her son's birth in October 1987. She is accompanied by her nine-year-old daughter Maia, and along the way they discuss names for the baby. Maia suggests Bear; Cora is partial to Julian, and then there are the instructions from Cora's husband, "We have Gordon for a boy." Gordon is his name and his father's name, but there are inklings already:

Cora has never liked the name Gordon. The way it starts with a splintering sound that makes her think of cracked boiled sweets, and then ends with a thud like someone slamming down a sports bag.

This choice of what to name the baby unfolds into three parallel narratives—Bear, Julian, and Gordon—each exploring the profound impact of that single decision over 35 years, with chapters advancing in seven-year intervals. 

Florence Knapp’s storytelling is both innovative and emotionally resonant. Her prose is richly layered, delving into themes of domestic abuse, resilience, and the intricate ties of family. The structure allows for a deep exploration of how small choices can ripple through time, affecting not just the individual but everyone around them. The author's premise struck me as a simple yet ingenious idea, and her execution of that idea is perfect. I was struck by Knapp’s ability to maintain the essence of her characters across divergent timelines. Each version of the son’s life is distinct yet interconnected, offering insights into identity and the enduring effects of trauma. I was initially a little hesitant as I had just finished Nesting and wasn't sure I could read another book about spousal abuse, but this book is about so much more.

Another thing that I greatly enjoyed about the book was the description of artistic details that the author wrote. There are references to artwork, jewelry making, paper artistry, and tesselated wood constructions. There is a reference to the poem "Empty Nest" by Carol Ann Duffy. In case you get a little lost as a reader as to whether you are reading about Bear, Julian, or Gordon, there are delightfully simple yet grounding illustrations by Sam Scales at the head of each chapter. Florence Knapp talks about all of the artists that inspired her in the Author's Note, which I thought was a real bonus.

The Names is a poignant, beautifully written novel that stays with you long after the final page. I greatly admire the prose and craft of writing a book like this; it's really three incredible books in one. It’s a testament to the power of storytelling and the complexities of life’s choices, and I'm sure it's one of the best books I'll ever read.

What are you making and reading this week?

Sometimes Monday . . .

 . . . is a day that you remember you didn't take a single photo over the weekend, even though it was one of the best weekends you've had in quite a while. So I'm committing one of the cardinal sins of blogging by writing a post that doesn't include any photos I took.

Mother's Day has long been fraught with varying emotions for me. But this year I was lucky enough to have a perfectly lovely day that was wonderful in many ways. My sister and I had a very nice conversation by text. She would love to ignore the day for many reasons, not the least of which is the loss of her youngest son. She has come a long way since his death and it was so nice to really understand her and what she was saying without any judgements. 

I had decreed that I didn't need to go out or be treated to any big celebration, but Justin asked on the spur of the moment if we wanted to go to his house for hamburgers and hotdogs on the grill, and I did. It was such a nice day and I even came home with leftover macaroni and cheese. 

I'm headed to Ryan's today to plant seedlings in the garden, and he says he'll make me lunch and maybe even bake something. I feel very lucky to have finally had the low-key, perfect Mother's Day I've wished for, especially when it includes both of my sons making food for me. I won't even need pictures to remember this weekend. Here's hoping yours was equally as wonderful. 

Unraveled Wedneday: 5/7/25

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers to show you what the Dracula Hitchhiker looks like now that I've finished the Lavendel and started with the first of the blue stripes. This one is Lapislazuli.

I ran outdoors in between the thundershowers and rain to take the picture, but I do appreciate seeing a photo of the whole thing on Wednesday. It looks different than concentrating on one color while I'm knitting it, and I like the addition of each new color a little more each time I see it. 

I finished one book this week and I'm glad I finally read it. I saw some less than favorable reviews of The Mighty Red early on, but Jane wrote about it last week and rekindled my interest in it. In The Mighty Red, Louise Erdrich has written a saga centered on the Geist family and those around them. Set against the backdrop of a slowly transforming Midwestern town, the novel explores identity, inheritance, and the tension between legacy and reinvention. As with much of Erdrich’s work, there's a powerful undercurrent of mythology and Indigenous worldview, though it simmers more quietly beneath the surface here.

The strength of the novel lies in its characters—flawed, tangled, and vividly drawn. Erdrich excels at capturing the internal lives of her protagonists, and several members of the Geist family left lasting impressions. I found Kismet Poe to be one of the most interesting. She is impulsive and restless, indecisive and passive, aware of the economic and class divides between herself and the Geist family that she has married into, despite knowing that it was a mistake.

That said, I found the the novel's pacing uneven. While some sections were full of emotional and narrative intensity, others feel overly digressive or weighed down by repetition. The thematic richness—particularly gender dynamics and familial duty—is present, but at times it felt dispersed rather than distilled. Erdrich's prose remains sharp and elegant, even when the plot occasionally meanders.

Still, there’s a lot to admire. The Mighty Red isn’t my favorite Erdrich novel, but it's a solid entry in her body of work, even if it doesn't quite reach the heights of The Night Watchman. I found it to be a novel that asks more than it answers, and maybe that’s the point. Three and a half stars rounded up.

What are you making and reading this week?

Piles of Stuff

Last weekend we got into a discussion when I asked John if he could consolidate his piles of stuff. I tried to ask this question in a non-confrontational tone, but he didn't hear it that way. So I decided to document our piles of stuff throughout the house to better assess the situation.

These are things I need to give to Justin the next time I see him. It's a small manageable bunch of things on our dining room table, handy to where everyone will see it when they come in the house. 

Ryan's pile is even smaller, just some Tupperware I need to return to him and a new AAA card. These are in a tote bag on the mud porch, ready for when we go to Ryan's to tend the garden next week. 

 

For the sake of honesty, here are my own piles of books and knitting stuff on the table next to my chair.  

John has quite a few more collections of important things. One on the dining room table,

another small one next to his chair in the living room, 

a small pile of reading material and somewhat important mail by his place at the kitchen table,

and a much larger pile on a chair in the bedroom of clothes that are new or worn and may or may not be dirty.

He also has a pile of boots, empty boot boxes, and slippers on the mud porch. 

And then there are the antlers. He loves antlers, and I can even understand that. Justin worked on two different deer ranches and had many opportunities to collect large and impressive shed antlers. John can't stand to part with any of them. Here are two of the largest collections:

 

 

and I didn't want to bore you with at least three smaller bunches of antlers in various places throughout our living space. 

When I was an assistant supervisor at a lab in Syracuse, I remember going to a seminar about how people organized things (physical items and ideas) differently. I know that there are many ways to approach organization. Some people (like me) do better with "a place for everything, and everything in its place" while others need to be able to see everything and have it readily available to be able to act on it or boost their creativity. The second one describes John. 

So no piles of stuff were moved, consolidated or cleaned up last weekend, and I don't have a lot of hope that this will happen in the future. We have lived together for over 46 years, so by now I have learned to grudgingly accept that John's way is not my way. I enjoy having open, uncluttered spaces; John sees them as places for new piles of stuff and that's just life.

So how are things organized in your house? Are the people in your household compatible with the way you organize things, or do their important things all over just look like a mess to be cleaned up? I'd love to hear about the piles of stuff in your house and your life!

Bits and Pieces Right Now

The beginning of May seems like a good time for a Bits and Pieces post, so here's what's going on for me right. I've used both Bits and Pieces and Right Now as labels, but since I couldn't choose, I'm calling this one Bits and Pieces Right Now. 

Making -  Lasagna, bread, and brownies. We've got some friends that are caring for their 98-year-old mother who has dementia, at home. They have a visiting nurse that comes three times/week, but that's really just to check vitals. Some stories about their mother are funny, like the one where she swears she sees monkeys and otters in the back yard, and how she has forgotten that she has eaten so she often asks for six meals a day. She can't be left alone and needs assistance almost hourly throughout the night, so caring for her is exhausting. I'm not sure how I can best help, so I made ziti, garlic knots, and brownies before and decided that another meal was in order. This lasagna is really not my best effort, but next time I'll make sure to use a deeper disposable pan.

Looking Forward To - My turn in the library queue for some of my holds, like Broken Country, The First Gentleman, The Names, and Turning to Birds.

Also Looking Forward To - Seeing what happens in the NJ Gubernatorial Race. I knew we would be voting for a new Governor in 2026, so I was quite surprised when a ballot showed up in my mail last week. I had completely forgotten about Primaries, and it seems as if everybody and their brother might be running. All I knew about some of the names on the ballot was who had posted the most signs in the neighborhood, and there were quite a few I hadn't heard about at all. Luckily for me, they all had websites saying they were the best and their opponents were the worst, but I did finally decide on one after seeing what he has accomplished as Mayor of Jersey City. The actual Primary election isn't until June 10th, but after that the field of 15 candidates will be narrowed down.

Hoping - That John plants something in the garden that I actually want. I use a lot of cherry tomatoes, chives, and shallots, but he doesn't know if there will be room for them. I have started chive seeds in a pot that I can use here, and I also have tomato seedlings, but I guess I'll just have to wait and see what gets planted in the garden.

Drinking - Peppermint tea, raspberry lemonade, and Yuengling. I hardly ever drink alcohol any more, but I really felt like having a beer. After a quick trip to the liquor store, now I have six five of them.

Watching - Jon Stewart's Weekly Show podcast on youtube. Jon Stewart has in-depth conversations with a wide-range of guests, like Bernie Sanders, Chris Christie, Michael Lewis, Rory Stewart, and Pete Buttigieg. I like the fact that both Jon and the guests are respectful of each other, actually listen and don't talk over each other, and I learn things and viewpoints that I didn't know and hadn't considered.

Wondering - If we are going to be experiencing another toilet paper shortage. Jon Stewart made an offhand comment about it in one of the episodes I watched yesterday, and I wondered what the reasoning might be. After reading about how tariffs on Canadian softwood lumber might affect the availability of northern bleached softwood kraft pulp (NBSK), a material derived from wood chips that is used to make toilet paper and paper towels, I understood. NBSK makes up about 30% of standard US bathroom tissue and 50% of paper towels. I can live without paper towels quite easily, but not toilet paper. Yes, I realize that by buying extra toilet paper now I'm contributing to shortages and possibly even creating one artificially. But aside from not seeing loved ones and the constant worry, the pandemic was awful because of shortages and I'm not looking forward to going through that again. 

Knitting - Socks again. I love bright blue and green together, so I've wound this sock yarn and will cast on soon for a pair of short summer socks.

Ready For - High pollen season to be over. My car is yellow, my eyes are red and itchy, and I wake up feeling congested and headachey. 

Grateful For - Sudafed, Motrin, and antihistamine eye drops. 

Avoiding - Housework. I really should dust, vacuum, and mop the kitchen floor, but every day I say, "Fiddle-dee-dee!" like I'm Scarlett O'Hara and sit down to read or knit. 

Strangest email I received this week - From a neighbor asking if I had lost my peacock (or if I knew who he belonged to). He's not mine, but I wouldn't mind it if he wandered into my yard so I could get a closer look.

 What's going on in your world right now?