I picked up my unsold fabric (most of it) today after buzzing in from Emily's house. I had already picked up the quilt which had been hidden in a box for a long time. When I went to get it out, I found a lot of UFOs (UnFinished Objects) too.
Well, here's another UFO that I found when using the scanner/printer. It's in my old computer. It really is old ... as in 2013. For your enjoyment:
Polly
Collecting her second cup of coffee, enjoying the enticing
aroma of newly made meatballs and crisp bacon, Polly looked out at the falling
snow. While eating her eggs, she had listened to the snow. A falling snow sound
is really the absence of sound. It’s unnaturally quiet and Polly imagined the
critters and birds in the back yard were all hunkered down trying to keep warm.
They probably were too cold to make any sounds. The storm had deposited about
six inches and it was still falling.
This was going to be a big storm. A blizzard! they said, a New
England record breaker! Well, Polly didn’t know about that. The high winds
hadn’t materialized so far, and she figured that they would get a bucket load
of snow that would take another bite out of her snowplow budget for the year,
but it would have to snow for a couple of days to make it a record breaker. “Spring, ha!” she thought as she pulled the
bacon out of the oven and checked on the quiche that needed more time.
Normally, Polly wouldn’t be cooking at breakfast time but
she knew it was a 50 percent chance that she would lose electricity and she
didn’t want to waste uncooked food. A simple solution would be to put the food
in the back yard but she knew of at least one fox who lived out in the scrub.
She didn’t want to attract bears although Polly couldn’t remember if they ate
meat. No matter, she’d cook what she could and hope for the best.
The squeak of her screen door startled her. Tying up her
bathrobe, she went to the back door of the attached garage as the doorbell
rang. It was Jon, her neighbor.
“Yo, Polly,” he smiled, “I just wanted to get here while I
still could. You’re invited to our house if the power goes out.” She had
wondered about their installation of a propane tank last year but after seeing
how their faux fireplace kept them all toasty and warm, she had become slightly
envious. “I’ll come by with the snow
blower if the power goes out.”
“Coffee?” she asked.
“Sure. Just let me get out of these boots.” Polly kept a mat for boots and made sure the kitchen
floor was clean enough for stocking feet. Although Polly knew Jon wasn’t all
that particular about his socks. As a farmer who worked from dawn to dusk, he
was used to dirt. Times like now, he constructed garden trellises to sell at
the spring craft fair. The people with money to burn bought up his mini fences,
trellises and flower boxes often before 3 p.m. the afternoon of the craft fair. He got most of his wood from the fallen
branches at the back of her property behind the scrub. She had admired his
ingenuity in getting to the branches: the scrub was mainly wild rose. Some fool
in the 1920s had decide that would be a good hedge and now the large canes were
totally out of control with huge thorns.
Any attempt to remove the thorn bushes made it act as if it had been thinned
to encourage growth. Polly didn’t mind because it made a natural barrier for
anyone who wanted to get into her back yard unseen from the other street.
Polly winced as he put four sugars into his large mug of
steaming coffee. She didn’t use sugar but she kept some around for guests. “Did
you hear the news?” he asked.
“Yes,” she nodded. “Margie called and she said Old Man
Winston was found dead and it doesn’t look like a natural death. Anybody know
where Joey is?” she asked.
“Nobody knows. Apparently, he hasn’t been around for a
couple of weeks.” Both knew that Joey was Old Man Winston’s adult grandson who
had been living with the Old Man for about six months. And they also knew that
Joey had a temper, especially after a couple of drinks.
They sipped coffee in silence for a couple of minutes.
“How do they know it wasn’t just Old Man Winston’s time to
go? He must be at least 96,” Polly asked.
Jon gave her a sly look, “I was listening to my scanner and they called for a “cleanup crew” and that usually means blood. They also called Sam in – to do photographs. I’m betting someone killed him.”
Yup, that's all there is. Obviously, I forgot about it. Probably due to a total lack of plot ...I'm not really wasting time when I'm talking to you but I'm not doing what I should be doing. And what I should be doing is packing for my drive to California. I have put clothing that I know I will not be wearing (such as shorts, bathing suit, fancy stuff) in the guest room. Horrifically, my big suitcase seems to be full already -- and there's no real clothing in it! By real clothing I mean underwear, blouses, slacks, etc. Am I the only one who uses "slacks" instead of pants? To me pants means men's pants. Next I'll be talking about pedal pushers.
I guess it's a curmudgeon day. Unfortunately, there's nobody to yell at to say Get Off My Lawn! That reminds me: I have to spread some grass seed in the front.
Finally, I got to see the whole Rocky Horror Picture Show in one sitting at Emily's. (She slept through it.) It's funny in parts and so odd to see how young (and sexy) Tim Curry was. Of course, the other actors have aged -- except Susan Sarandon. She still looks amazing. I wasn't particularly impressed. I imagine when it came out in 1975, the movie was tres risque, but I still can't figure out why it's a cult classic.
It's another grey day in the 50s. It rained all last night, yesterday, and the day before. No problem with drought here. I saw the sun today for about 10 minutes. That's not enough!
I guess I have procrastinated enough. I am going to pick my traveling outfit and pack my overnight bag. I plan to put the next day's outfit in a small bag that I bring into the hotel each night.
Oh yes, and I have to do some cooking and baking. I've got to empty the freezer, although the green beans will be good enough for soup when I return!
Cheers!
