Mess on aisle...

I had stored the white pumpkins in my pod, whence they turned yellow.  It's cool and dark in there, so I didn't worry about them... I figured, hey, when I need them, I will get them out to feed the chickens...

Ugh.  What a mistake.  I didn't take into account, cool, dark place doesn't mean 27 degrees.  Yeppers, it was well  below freezing for a few days, might have even been cooler than that, but it was cold...

I figured, well, I am not going to use the pumpkins, I am going to gift them to the chickens for Christmas.

Oh, what a mess...  I opened the pod door, and the pumpkins had shrunk.  They were lopped over to one side, and looked a bit like a mis-colored flat tire.

Uh, oh...

I tried lifting up one, and well, let's just say, it didn't work.  I ended up using a shovel, and the chickens, well, they tore it apart and ate the seeds, but it wasn't exactly the feast I'd planned...   I sprayed the pod area with Lysol, and, since it was still cold, decided to close up shop, and deal with it later...

Fast forward to about a few days ago.  Husband and I were chatting about a change that he was going to make to the pod, and he said, did you ever get that pumpkin mess cleaned up?

Oh, @$^%!!! 

Er, no, honey, forgot all about it...  So, we had a rare January 50 degree day, and I got out a mop and a bucket, some towels, and went out, expecting a slurry, mold, SOMETHING disgusting...

But it really wasn't.  There was a long area where the pumpkins had leaked liquid, now dust dry, and two little spots that were bits of pumpkin where they had sat, also dry. 

I mopped the dust up, and it was nearly undetectable, once I had finished, except for one bit of pumpkin, that I will have to use a plastic card or something to scrape up, because it sort of stuck.  Not bad for a 'what are we going to have to clean up after nearly a month?' (Whew!)

Surprised, and pleased!!

(Note:  I had said on the Thanksgiving post that Grandma had died.  Mom said it was when my Grandpa died. Sorry about that...  The pizza was still good, though...)

Came into work today, and there was a black bag on the volunteer's table.  Not unusual. We leave things for one another, one of the gals and I trade plants, bulbs, and occasionally yarn.  Some of the others have different items they might send one to another, books, something that was in an oily box... ?  Anyway, it's not that strange.  Still give it a once over, to make sure it's not anything stinky, (I had to move a lovely flower arrangement one time, because after about 10 minutes I had a headache that wouldn't quit...), and if there's anything that shouldn't be there for whatever reason...

So, I look, and since I have to open up the place, I just glance to see what the note on it is.  My name?  Huh!  Okay, check in a minute... Get the place open for the day, and back...  So, what is this little bag?

I look in, and one of the Deputies had left me a bag 'o things.  The bag itself is a backpack type thing, you can carry wet items in it, if need be, but it's a quick go bag, basically.  Inside was a cup that I could quite easily have a serving of soup, or just about my morning ration of tea.  And some pens, and what not.  I think it's giveaways from a meeting he went to, from some of the business cards and papers I saw inside.  There is also a folder that is one of those kind you can use as a writing surface.  That I can use!  Well, some of the other stuff, too, but especially that!

I thought that was pretty cool.  I try and let the guys know I appreciate them, it's nice to know that it's returned. 

And I put a thank you note on his desk, too!  :)

Definitely a pair...

But they definitely do not match.  This is a line from a sock book I read.  I didn't realize how prescient it would be.

Some time ago I had knit up a sock, and then put it away for some reason.  It was very simple.  A blue edge line, brown sock, with a blue heel and toe.

Why I put it up, I don't recall, which tells you how long ago it was.  I happened to be digging about for some oddball thing, and found the unfinished SECOND sock.  I still had the first one packed safely away.  (And, amazingly, I knew where it was!)

So, I decided, I should finish this sock.  I have one, finish the other, yet a new pair for my feet...  Then I made a mistake.  I did not go look at the first sock.  It was a simple blue and brown sock, I could knit from memory... I remembered that I was out of the blue yarn, so I substituted a blue that was as close as I could get.  It doesn't match completely, but it's not bad.

Then when I finished, I dug out the first sock.

Oh.  Oh!  Uh, oh...

So, note to self: do not attempt to knit second sock from memory of stored sock.  Fortune would have it, I have lots of socks I make one of, I refer to them as 'Sock Onesies', so these will fit right in...

But I still think the next time I'd better check.

(I would have had this blog up on Sunday, but I was having trouble uploading the picture.  Odd...) 

hot glue, duct tape, string...

In other words, what do you use on something that you break.  I said I was going to write a blog a week, and I do think I forgot to put one up last week.  No reason, except I spaced.

So, I will work on getting the blog up today.

What's been happening.  I have been selected for county jury duty.  Husband and Mom both commented that it starts "Greetings", that I should count my lucky stars it's not for the draft.  However, as 'old', and broken down as I am, I think it wouldn't be much of a problem... Sigh.

I am working diligently on getting boxes, and yarn, and needles, and paper, and and and and put away in my craft room.  I am pleased with how it's progressing, but have had to change a few things, as I receive items from Grandma's estate.  (I am now the 'proud' owner of probably 70 or more crochet hooks... Sorting, much figuring on what I want to keep, and who I can help with craft enabling is ensuing...) I have donated nearly a small pickup load of items to charity, and working on my second.  I will be going through clothing, and then...

The dreaded closet of doom.  Also known as the craft closet.  It's probably as bad, or more likely worse, than the craft room itself.  I want the craft room WELL cleaned before I start on that bad boy...

I also found out a design element I did to make my yarn easier to access...

Didn't.

It's a nasty crawlspace effect that I'd not realized when planning it.  I am hoping to transfer some items I don't use often under there, and move the yarn out into the light of day, so to speak.  Or at least within reach.

Oh, and I managed to snag a CD of the music from Hamilton.  I promised Husband I would not play it with him around... He detests rap.  I find a lot of it rather fun, though, and this is no exception.  So, I listen, when he's not in the house, he doesn't have to hear it...

And we're both happy!

https://www.tombakerofficial.com/fourth-doctor/

Oh, and I am knitting a project, just for me.  I have, since high school, wanted a Doctor Who scarf (4th Doctor), to wit:  I have had the pattern well before I ever learned to knit.  I finally looked at my stash.  Hmm. Have that color, yep, that too.  That's pretty close...

The only color I didn't have was a sort of yellow mustard color.  I started looking, and found one.  I am now about a foot or so up the left side, as seen in this picture. Just starting the red part, as a matter of a fact.  I made it narrower, the original is 60 stitches wide, I am knitting about 30.  I want a scarf, not a blanket.  Otherwise, I am trying to follow it as written.  I know that mine will look a bit different, but not outrageously so, and I really just want it for me, so who cares?  I hope to wear it at faire sometime, there are enough Who Geeks there, I should get a response.

More info as things congeal...

Yak, yak, yak, YIPE!

(Yep, late, but still, it's up now... I guess I lost track of time...)

I love to go to fiber festivals.  I usually get my quota of spinning fiber, and yarn.  It's a cash only thing for me, when the $ is gone, I am finished.

Well, with the spending...  Not the looking.

So I've found that it's absolutely a great time for me to check out the animal barns...  I have found that I know several of the sheep owners, goat owners, and get to check out the rabbits, and some exotics...

Like- a yak that was there one year.  I walked up, just a bit shy of something that large.  It was bigger than most male cattle I'd been around, and was well armored with a set of horns that were wider than said yak.

I was watching the animal, when the owner of said yak showed up...  She was telling me all about it, that it was a friendly animal, and was not one to be aggressive, and the fiber was awesome!  Come and feel it!

Tentatively, I walked up to the stall, and stroked the back of the yak, to let it know I was there.  It turned to look at me, sniffed slightly, then went back to the hay bale it was mowing though.  I talked with the gal about the care and feeding of yaks, when the owner, realizing I hadn't felt the fiber (the part used on a yak is the protective undercoat), she patted, then said, "dig in, feel that wonderful fiber!"  (Not a bit of a salesman, no siree...)

But, I will admit, I was looking at it with some thoughts... And so I, indeed, "dug in", pushing the hair apart, and sticking my hand down in the soft warmth of the undercoat.  She was right, it was just lovely soft!  I rubbed it some more... And suddenly got a right cross of a slightly dirty yak tail in my face, knocking off my glasses!

Turns out, yaks can be tickled... My glasses were not damaged, and after a quick run to the restroom, my face was okay, but, I decided to let someone else raise yaks.

I think Husband probably appreciates that more than anyone.

*******

Had a busy day at the substation... I can't talk about the specifics, but I am glad I was able to help, but sad to know that the kind of help rendered was necessary.  

But, I did have one funny thing I can share.  The Sheriff's Office has Community (Compensatory) Service work crews that are picked up and dropped off there.  At the usual drop off time, I saw a trickle of folks jump out of the work van, and leave.  And a few that stood around talking, smoking, or getting bikes unlocked to leave.  I took no notice, until a gal came in asking to use the phone about 15 minutes later.

Not unusual either.  She called, checking if X was going to pick her up, sighed when she heard the beep, and went back out.  

I finished my day, and she was still out there, about a half hour later.  I went out the back, to my vehicle, and there was a car parked behind me.  This WAS unusual, and I kept my eye on the guy.  He waved, and then poked his head out the window, "Hey, was the crew truck here?"  

"Yes, about a half hour ago."

"Huh.  I guess I missed her."

"A gal, round faced, wearing this 'n that clothes, name Pickmeup?"

An awestruck look, if I ever saw one, and he said, "Uh, yeah... Do you know-"

I pointed, "She's out front, has been waiting for you-"

He made the fastest 3 point turn I've ever seen, and was out front at near warp speed... 

Oopsie!!!

O is for oink, hiccup... Snore...

Grandpa used to raise pigs.  I wasn't allowed anywhere NEAR said pigs, as Grandpa was afraid that they would knock me down, or hurt me.  I liked to watch when he fed them, though, I always thought the wiggly noses looked amazingly funny.

Grandpa would also make beer and wine.

One time, he'd made a huge batch of the stuff, and it had been raining.

A lot.

We'd come over to visit, and Grandpa was feeding the mash to the hogs.  One big, aggressive male ate most of it.  Grandpa didn't think too much of it at the time...

Well, a bit later, he went to check on things out in the back, and came in hollering for Daddy to help him.

That great big hog was drunk.  So drunk he couldn't stand, and kept falling into the now soupy muck, and trying to sleep.  The wiggly nose was barely quivering.

Dad and Grandpa tried to roll the hog, lift the hog, several different things, that silly hog was just blissfully blasted, I think you could have set a firecracker off in his left ear, and he might have yawned...  So, Grandpa got a board, and between his lifting, and Daddy shoving the board, they managed to make a high spot under the pig's chin so he wouldn't drown.

A pig's snore is actually quite loud!

Grandpa was admonished to feed the mash in much smaller quantities to the pigs, after that.

High Beams.

Mom asked why I don't take more pictures of Ding with her face showing.  I have to work on it...

Husband recently took a picture...

And this, boys and girls, is why you don't use flash when shooting photos of the cat.  

And Husband has now started saying her breed is a Blue Siamese Flycatcher.  I have had to race ahead of her, and kill said fly, or she tries to chase the fly where ever it goes.  Over the couch, behind the table, THROUGH THE BLINDS, generally making a minor disaster, possibly not so minor...

Oh, well.