Thursday, July 24, 2008

A sticky summer night

Just to entertain myself on the drive home from work, I've gotten in the habit of tracking the moon.* Tonight, as it rose in the sky, it was that fabulous orange – gone, of course, by the time I got to my camera. At 12:30 a.m., this was the view from the top of the street:

Not much of a picture, but what the heck. I like the tail lights and the American flag, fuzzy in the dark and the humidity. As I walked back home a few minutes ago, I thought of a couple things:
• I'm glad I live in an area where I can walk up the street in the middle of night without giving it much thought.
• July must be Mother Nature's version of menopause: pleasant one moment, warm and sweaty the next. OK, August, too.
• I'm grateful for air conditioning.

I'm off for Ely in the morning with my mom for the Blueberry Festival. yay! It's a fun time in my favorite town. Have a good weekend!

* it is waning ...

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

They just kept on winning!

Let this be a lesson, example no. 1,267,834: Don't count on a team to win -- or lose! Laurel had a softball tournament this past weekend. No one, not even on her team, expected them to go very far. Saturday morning's first game displayed every indication why. But then, they won the second game. And then the third game. Here's Laurel's homer:

Check out the girl on deck. I wonder what was she flinching for?

Come Sunday morning, citing unanticipated softball victories, I withdrew from an afternoon lace class, then drove to the ballpark for victories four and five. It wasn't until the sixth game, late Sunday morning, that fate, karma, whatever, threw in the towel. Mercifully, it was over in five innings. By my side? Youbetcha:

Remember the movie Cast Away, when Tom Hanks finds the volleyball and names him Wilson? This thing has become my Wilson. In addition to the softball tournament, it also came along to the horse show in Mason City -- we had a lovely time chatting with the other moms in the laundromat while we washed show pads and breeches. At home, it's on the bed, in case I can stay awake long enough at night to work a couple of rows.

You might also notice it here:

Lounging on the sidewalk between a pair of suspicious characters, caught knitting outside Saturday evening after the coffee shop closed! A squad car drove by at one point, but we must've looked fairly harmless -- he smiled and nodded as he trolled past. I can happily report that 'Wilson' is but a shadow of his former self: the body is done, the collar is nearly done and we're turning our attention to the sleeves. The fit? O ja. Much better.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Unsettling News

The ground wobbled a bit on Tuesday when I found out that one of the editors, who I did not work with here but did in my previous life in Colorado, had died that morning after fighting a nasty, nasty cancer for more than a year. We weren't pals, but we were well-acquainted. Of course, I phoned my former co-workers and, of course, they already knew. Funny how you can not talk to people for several years and then pick up again like it was two weeks ago that you rang them up:

We talked about kids -- how they've grown (engaged?! She can't be old enough to be engaged!) but how we, of course, haven't aged at all and yes, it's good to hear your voice, too.

We talked about work --how the faces change, but that the politics doesn't. And who has left, where they are now.

We talked about L. She was creative beyond belief, exacting and driven. I could see her imprint -- never heavy-handed, but clearly L's touch -- on many, many pages.

We also did some counting. She was the third woman from that era at that paper who'd passed away within the last 15 months. It's my understanding that there will be no services, but that her ashes will be spread near Leadville, I suppose when her husband is ready. She lived in other places after leaving Colorado, but, knowing how much she loved the mountains, it's fitting that she'll become part of them.

Monday, July 7, 2008

How Fast is Fast, Anyway?

Saturday was not only right in the middle of the 4th of July weekend, but it was also right in the middle of a riding clinic out at the barn. Clinician and trainer Ron Postleb, who runs Crown Dressage International out in New York, was here instructing the girls for the weekend. But everyone took the afternoon off and headed to the Lunds' house for some boating and eating and general merriment, the most fun we've had for quite awhile without sitting on a horse. Meredith and Ron:

Laurel, smiling like a Jack o' lantern:

You can't see this, but that's David on the right with a big smile on his face. Caught ya!:

And guess who's driving. Heh-heh-heh. That's BT in the backseat:

Before all the huffing and puffing starts, there is a time and place for these types of watercraft: We were on a small lake in the metro area, not careening around a lake up north. My top speed that afternoon? 45 mph. Way fun.

After dinner and after dark, everyone piled into the pontoon boat for a wonderful putter around the lake -- a perfect way to spend a bug-free, moonlight evening. Friends, beverages, laughter and a cool breeze.

Perfectly perfect.

Perfectly Minnesota.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

When The Pattern Says 'Large,' It Means It

A week or so ago, I was sitting on the patio steps, knitting happily on this:

when that little nagging hunch kicked in — you know the one. Yes, I put the sweater on, and yes, it was enormous! There was room inside for old McDonald's Farm. What choice did I have but to start over? Usually such a prospect sucks some of the air out of the room, but this wasn't too upsetting: At 2 st. to the inch, it won't take long to reknit, especially a bit smaller.

And so, back into the frog pond it went. As I ripped and wound the 10 skeins, a question occurred to me. I kept going and soon got my answer:

For comparison, that's an average-size navel orange. In case you're wondering, no, I don't get out enough.

Now casting on: a size medium.

June in the Rearview Mirror


That was the month of June. A driver's license, last day of school, rain, first horse show, rain, second horse show, rain, grad parties, rain, third horse show and Bob's your uncle. Any chance that July will be more leisurely? Not likely, I guess, but we can always hope. Of course, the month wasn't a total washout. Baby Taliskar worked on his tan:

Flannary decided that the grass really IS greener on the other side of the fence:

Phoenix, Webster and Beau, however, held fast to the notion that there's no place like home:

When puppy arrived last fall, I realized early on that my flower beds might never be the same. Some things have survived, however. Happily for me, they're among my favorites. Can't you just smell them?

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