It's Sunday. I'm not going to do anything," I said to the Husband, invoking the rule of Mama.  Sometimes after Sunday breakfast, Mama  talked herself into not feeling guilty about taking a day off from working in the garden. So, I think. Why did I even say that? Every day is a day off. And, most days feel like a Sunday. As it went, I chose to rake leaves in the South Room.  Molly couldn't decide if she wanted to sit in the sun outside while I worked or sit in the sun indoors. She eventually settled for the latter. The Husband came out to help move, fetch, toss, and pick up in the yard. We also surveyed the best locations to grow our crops of a single this, a couple of that, and a few of these vegetable or herb plants. I'm looking forward to that. The last time the Husband and I took care of our own vegetable garden was in the late 1990s, and that was for only a couple of years. As some of you know, the backyard has naturally divided into four rooms

Missy Girl watched Midnight scurry along the fence and cross over to the next yard. "You want to go out, don't you?" "Miarrrr." "It's cold and wet." A few minutes later, I opened the sliding door. Molly stuck her head out for a few seconds before sashaying forward. She carefully maneuvered around and through puddles, then scoot between two geranium bushes. Was she really going to sit in that wind? I glanced back at my task of sorting Mama's seed collection. Only a second. Maybe two or three. Molly was out of sight.   She wouldn't have gone after Midnight. The chimes and hanging things from the dead apple tree were dancing wildly. More than likely, she was exploring the yard and making sure everything is fine. Still, it would be best to go get her, I thought. I had nothing to worry about. Like a sprinter, Missy Molly by Golly ran into the house. She looked quite pleased with herself. All Seasons and Mosaic Monday are

The other morning I went through the last of Mama's clothes hanging in the closet. Hanging at the back of the closet was a little girl's red coat with matching red bonnet.  The outfit is in pristine shape, as if it had been bought yesterday. It was, about 64 years ago, at least.  Most likely I wore the jacket a few times. I was a fast grower in my early years, both in height and girth. See how cute the hat is on the camel in this collage. Yes, that little girl being directed to look at the camera was me sporting the red hat. Mama must've just put it on me because in another photo with only Big Brother and me, the bonnet was perched limply on the top of my head, as if Mama said to Daddy, "Put the hat on Susie's head." Snap.  I'm thinking about cutting the red coat apart, along with a few other things I found in Mama's closet: her wool black dress, a blue tweed jumper Mama made for me in 7th grade, and a blue wool skirt I bought during my early

"Let's make cards," I said, practically pulling the Husband down on the seat next to me. That's what happens when he follows me around a holiday festival that has free arts and crafts workshops.  I thought about telling him to go ahead, I'll catch up with him, but I remembered we were just talking about making Christmas cards this year. Once he knew that the idea was to make a collage card, he enjoyed himself. Any remorse, I'm sure of sitting down at a table with colorful papers and cut-outs, was gone. This, below, is his card. My card is the picture at the top of the post. Did the giraffe surprise you? While we were admiring our cards, again, at home, the giraffe invited me to draw her. So, I did. Then, she asked to be colored. Fortunately for us, the watercolor pencils were on the table. Before I knew it, Juliana the Giraffe came to life. I wonder if she knows Ghandi the Giraffe . Mosaic Monday , hosted by Angie of Letting Go of the Bay Leaf

The White Rabbit said he was late. What was he late for? The tea party? Curious minds, such as mine, want to know. Oh my. The Husband is doubl y smart. Initially I wrote "Curious minds, such as me, want to know." That seemed off. Should it be "such as I"?  Still didn't sound right, thus I asked the Husband. Neither appealed to him either. Ever the good grammar student back in the schooldays, the Husband asked, "Is it an object or a subject? My eyes crossed. "Read it again," he said. "Curious minds, such as me, want to know." "Mine." "Mind," I repeated. "Mine." "Mine?" "It's curious minds that want to know." My eyes uncrossed. I'm giving an example of a curious mind. Awwww. The Husband is a genius. Alas, he didn't know either what the important date was the White Rabbit needed to make.   HOPPING BACK TO INITIAL THOUGHT I brought up the White Rabbit

The Husband and I encountered danger yesterday—strawberry sauce. Oh my gosh! I modified a recipe that called for 2 cups of diced strawberries. The recipe probably meant a dry measuring cup, but I overfilled a two-cup liquid measuring cup. The strawberries went into a small saucepan with juice from a medium-sized lemon, a half a cap full of limoncello (in place of vanilla), and about 2/3 to 3/4 cup of superfine sugar. The sugar is a guess because  I poured directly from the box, stopping only when it looked like it would be too much. I brought the concoction to a boil, stirring occasionally, then simmered it for 15 minutes. We ate the strawberry sauce over a slice of toasted sourdough bread and a healthy sprinkling of ground almonds. Mmmmmmm. Once upon a time, I would've eaten all of the sauce in one sitting and then promptly fall asleep in a drunken daze. The Husband said the sauce caused his eyelids and the bags under his eyes to sweat. When he was a kid, sweet tart

Most of last week was being lost in Sudoku. Two, three, and, sometimes, four hours at a time, I was distracted only by making meals, eating, doing minimal errands and chores, being just a bit creative, and combing gnats and fruit flies out of Molly's fur. No excuses for my slacker activity, not even the few days of high temperatures. It wasn't until recently that I learned to play Sudoku. So far I've been able to solve a puzzle every eight games or so. I'm indiscriminate: I play easy, medium, hard, and very darn hard games, whatever happens to by lying around in a newspaper, magazine, or Sudoku book. Whatever its level, the puzzle I'm playing is difficult. I like the process so it doesn't bum me too much when my solution doesn't work.  Solving Sudoku reminds me of doing algebra problems once-upon-a-time in high school. I loved solving for x's, y's, and z's, regardless of whether I got the correct answers. The chase! ( Cue wicked grin. )

Despite the current state of our world and the fruit flies in the backyard, I am enjoying the summer with the Husband, Molly the Cat, and Friends.  Yes, that is a bureau in front of the house. It was Mama's, one of the first pieces of furniture Daddy bought her in the late 1940s. I brought it outside earlier this year but only got around to painting it in June. I like to think Mama's Spirit is okay with that. On Saturday, my high school graduating class held its annual Class of 1971 Scholarship fundraiser. For the past 10 years or so we have awarded a $2,000 scholarship to a graduating senior. We're the first, and still only, class to have established a scholarship at our high school. Pretty good for us, slackers. Yes, we were when compared to the achievers in the class on either side of us. That's okay, look at us now. Go '71 HayBalers! For the fundraiser's silent auction, I donated this one-of-a-kind, perfectly imperfectly handcrafted coffee cup cozy. 

A whispering of leaves. . . Plop! Sometimes, after the sound of trembling leaves, goes a ping! against a ladder, a bench, a table, or the shed, followed by a thud. Rustle . . . ping! . . . plop! I wonder how many times Molly the Cat has had a near miss with a fallen lemon or apple or avocado or apricot or Asian pear. The Husband says that Missy Girl knows precisely where to lay herself down in the backyard. He's right, Missus Lady.  Purrrrrrrrrrrr.  This has been a good year for Mama's fruit trees because of the winter and spring rains.  All the trees have been continually aborting themselves of immature seeds and fruits so that the fittest may live to full development. Plop! The lemon tree is a different story. We can't reach the top branches, thus when the fruit ripens, plop! The two apricot trees had branches heavily laden with fruit that they snapped. Giving baskets and box lids full of apricots to several friends didn't make a dent to the t

"Talky. talky. talky. talky. talk. . ." That's the first line to "Happy Talk" from South Pacific . So the Husband and I thought. This afternoon we learned the first line goes like this: "Happy talk, keep talking happy talk. . ." Yup. We have sung "Taw-kee, taw-kee, taw-kee talky talk" for over 50 years individually, and 24 together. Not to say we listened to the song yesterday. Twice. The Husband says he's shattered that the lyrics aren't "talky, talk." Go ahead: giggle, snort, snicker, chuckle, belly laugh. We have. "Talky, talky . . ."   REDWOODS, WATERFALLS, and HISTORIC KILNS One of our day trips during the Husband's birthday week in June was an adventure with good friends Missus and Mister H to Limekiln State Park in Big Sur, along the California coast, about 50 or so miles south of Carmel. (Pshew, that was a long sentence.) The park was a first visit for us all. We picnicked and hiked

I like to keep a bunch of rocks nearby when I paint so that I can use up any leftover paint on them. Wouldn't it be funny if the rocks in the yard seek hidey holes because they dread the thought of being splashed with clothing? Now that would make for an interesting story. Be my guest. This afternoon I happened to notice the various faces of a green painted rock. A different story on every face. These are only four of its faces out of eight, possibly 10 or more. What stories do you see? On Mondays, when I can, I like to participate in Angie's Mosaic Monday at Letting Go of the Bay Leaf . Come check out the other bloggers with me. By the way, here's what happened at last week's City Council meeting that I was in a hurry to check out live on TV: The Council voted 3-1 to disregard the mayor's appeal to stop the construction of a project to build condos on top of retail stores and another building to house nonprofit organizations on a downtown lot that h

In about 15 minutes, a public community TV station will broadcast live our city council meeting. I don't want to miss the broadcast because a lot of feathers ought to be flying at some point of the meeting. One of major issues is back on the table to discuss: An appeal to stop the construction of  a building for condos and retail stores, as well as a building for the local community foundation on  a block in downtown Hollister that has been vacant since the 1989 Loma Prieta Earthquake. That's all I'll say so I can get my tortilla chips and lemonade before the meeting starts. I''ve created two photo collages for Mosaic Monday , a meme hosted by Angie of Letting Go of the Bay Leaf . The light switch covers I painted in May are the subject of the top photo collage while the faces in rocks off the side of highway make up this second collage. For the latter's inspiration check out the highway wall photo (last one) in yesterday's post . Click here t

Once upon a time there were people who collected other people's trash and resold the items. Some of these early recycling entrepreneurs were said to go down the street calling out something like "I'm here for any rags, bottles, and bones." Rags, bottles, and bones. For me, it would be books rather than bones. But, I'm not looking to purchase any rags, bottles, or books. Not at all. I mention the phrase because the past week, I've been repurposing fabric scraps, wine bottles, and old books. RAGS The elephant scene (above) is my first try at fabric art. I machine stitched everything but the the red flowery thing, which is the top of a tree, onto a purple napkin. The zipper is the second, if not the first, one I've ever sewn. I have several more purple napkins and a whole bunch of scraps so I might experiment with more fabric art. We shall see. BOTTLES Last year I decided to make a garden border with wine bottles that I collected mostly from our