I took a walk this morning

The paint marking quarter sections in the road seems to have been worn away over the winter, or perhaps the road was re-topped and nobody has bothered to put new paint around the iron marker yet. In any case, there is one (still visible) marker at the edge of our yard, and I'm dead certain there should be another one up where Blueberry Road crosses. Assuming those markers are 1/2 mile apart (or 1/2 the length of a section, which is 320 rods or 1 mile wide), I think I walked at least a mile and a half. I seem to remember a fast walk being about 4 miles per hour, so I really think I should have gotten further than that in 45 minutes, even if there were hills involved. I have a strong urge to drive it with the car to check, although that flies in the face of our whole energy conservation ideal.

I couldn't find my mp3 player, so I just tucked my phone in my pocket for emergencies and trucked on down the road, letting my mind wander. I notice the buttercups and cowslips are blooming, as well as those pink primrose-looking flowers. The wild phlox is rioting, which means the peonies will bloom soon. And it was a cool morning, with the kind of light mist which always reminds me of sipping tea on Berkshire mornings in my teens. The cows were clearly puzzled by my presence, and I was fascinated by the reds and golds of a field of old soybeans or something, dazzling against the lush greenery our recent rain has generated.


All in all, a good way to start the day.

Pomp and Circumstance

I won the tie-wearing argument, the no-sneakers argument, and the belt argument. I even won the "you will let me take your picture" argument. Three times. Actually, come think of it, I won all the arguments today. That either means I'm getting better, or that Luc was in a mellow mood and was willing to accept my viewpoint on some things. I'm betting the latter.

I was surprised by the fact that students were allowed to decorate the tops of their mortarboards with glitter and dingleballs and sequins, and in one case most of the contents of a bag of Hershey's assorted chocolates. And cans of silly string were openly stored beneath chairs and sprayed everywhere at the end - although I suppose it's safer than the traditional throwing of the mortarboards. Back when I graduated from high school, we were sternly warned that the sharp corners of a descending mortarboard could "put an eye out."

The normal platitudes and pat appreciations were passed out, with half a dozen girls thanking different people at different times for "being there for me." And the commencement address centered on Dr. Seuss' "The Places You Will Go" and the Disney business plan: the gold paint on the carousels is actual 23 kt. gold, and the 37 hitching posts are repainted every night so they always look fresh, and so on. As Luc described it later, "the guy spent 20 minutes talking about paint." But the band executed a passable rendition of "Pomp and Circumstance," and later rocked a few favorites like "Louie, Louie" and "Crazy Train." And with only 150 or so graduates, the whole thing went reasonably fast.

And now, as Luc has pointed out at least twice, he is a graduate. I asked him if he was proud of himself, and he said that he might be proud on his death bed. I guess he doesn't think he's earned it yet. Still, when I told him I was proud of him, he seemed content. And he keeps opening up that leatherette case with his name embossed in gold on the front to stare at the diploma inside.

Well, I did it.

Today was the first farmer's market of the season. I left the house at 5:45, picked up the borrowed tables and the neighbor kid (who volunteered to help me out with set-up and take down so he could sell Rhubarb Punch from my booth in the interim), and got to Elkhart Lake by about 6:20. I wasn't the first one there, so I wasn't too early - but people were still setting up an hour later, so apparently I could have slept a little longer and still been fine.

The lattice thing worked out pretty well, although I need to ask Rick to trim about 18" off the worst end of each for the next time. Nola sent me a bin of craft items to display, which helped fill that second table and avoid a barren atmosphere. I didn't dare hang my framed pictures up on it after all - the hook just didn't look stable enough, and I didn't want to bet the cost of the frame (especially on a breezy day). But Nola had some little dolls that hooked up there just fine, and it gave me a place to hang the vest that Tammy painted, and I think it was more or less a success. The wind did manage to knock over my spinning racks several times, even though I tried taping them down with packing tape, so for the last hour or so I just spread the prints out on the table. Before next week, I'm going to hit Rick up for a wooden base or something to help stabilize them, since I really do think the cards look better on the racks. Oh, and I want table cloths.

As far as actual sales - I paid for my gas and made enough extra to buy strawberry ice cream for myself and my helper. But it was a bit warm out there for comfortable shopping, especially as we headed towards noon, and with the lack of rain earlier this spring there wasn't much in the way of produce to attract shoppers. And the lady in the booth next to me (a sculptor with some really interesting little garden art and jewelery) tells me that the first weekend is always poor, and the customers will start opening their wallets as the summer gets going. So I figure it was a good familiarization run, and I enjoyed chatting with the shoppers and getting to know the people in the adjoining booths. I'm content.

On growing up

"Mom, why does this picture look like that? Don't you have photoshop?"

"Luc, I've had at least two people tell me in the last few days how cute you've gotten to be."

"I don't want to be cute. I want to be rugged and manly."

"You know, I'd kind of like the idea of the Army if it wasn't for all that war and killing and all. I mean, the discipline . . . the sense of duty and accomplishment . . . ."

"Then become a forest ranger."

"Mom, I saw a picture in this magazine, and I think I want to move to Washington state. The river looked all cool and green . . . "

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Getting my ducks in a row

Okay, so they're goslings. And I know Canada Geese generally rate pretty low on the desirability scale, what with their constant noise and leavings and all. But aren't the little fuzzy ones cute? And can you believe this momma is leading 23 of them around? (You can't see them all in this shot, but I counted beaks.)

Anyway, plans continue to develop for that fall wedding I mentioned, and on Wednesday I was upgraded from spectator to best woman, or groomswoman, or something like that. (I guess that Titania sweater may have to wait.) Proper attire for the role has not been determined; I'm being threatened with a velvet suit appropriate for a Dutch farmer from a previous era, or perhaps a really big floppy pastel hat. If this line of thought continues, I may have to lead a revolt.

Pressing on

One of the consequences of being a vegetarian is that after a while your digestive system can no longer effectively digest things that mainstream eaters would still describe as "food." This isn't really a problem most days, because the majority of foods are fairly open about their meat content. But things like fast food chains "flavoring" their fries with meat, or unexpected pork in your beans, or chicken stock in your soup - if you don't know to watch for this stuff, it can really wreak havoc with your digestive system. (And we won't even talk about those helpful people who think you - and your body - won't object to animal protein if you don't know you're eating it.) Imagine going to a third world country and drinking the water. It's fine for the locals, because their system is up to it. But it will keep you within 4 feet of the restroom for days afterwards.
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Well, I don't know what made it past my guard, but either I've had a purely lovely 36 hour flu or I somehow got some meat. My prime suspects are the gelatin from the gourmet jelly beans Isaac brought home from his weekend, or lard in the pie that his sister sent. (I always forget to watch out for baked goods!) So, yesterday was not a work day for me.
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Once I was feeling a little better, I tried to make some use of my time. Here are the first two completed fiber necklaces.
I really like the burgundy one with the brass beads and brass clasp, made with a combination of recycled sari silk and a high-end cotton. The blue and silver one, made with off-the-shelf findings and a ribbon that is actually called "Sari," is a bit more disappointing. The silver cones which were a key to my design may have been a mistake, since they arrived looking like rolled-up tinfoil. I tried adding texture to them with a chasing hammer to make them a little more interesting, and now they look like dented rolled-up tinfoil. I hate to take them apart, because I don't want to waste the sterling silver wire holding the findings together - but I'm just not happy with the outcome, and I don't want one cheap-looking item to debase the whole display. I can salvage the I-cord (and I have another half-dozen I-cords prepared for assembly); I just need to come up with a better way to put it all together. Oh, and I need some medium-sturdy jump rings and a better quality of silver clasp, since I can't find the 14 gauge silver wire that I remember having in my stash.
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Other accomplishments: two more cotton summer hats. Oh, and I've finished the knotting and weaving in on all the hats and all the water bottle holders. Now I just need to fray-check the knots, clip them, and felt the holders.

Pressing on . . .

The Yard Smells Wonderful.

I'm shamelessly reveling in the sights and smells of spring.

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