What's on my mind

One thing on my mind is this deer (and his companion, not in the photo). The two of them cruised around the wood's edge of our back yard last evening, causing me to worry.

I fear they were checking to see if my vegetable garden is planted (it isn't), and to see if any tasty little shoots are sprouting yet (they aren't, obviously).

The deer's appearance last night, the first sighting in our back yard since last summer, officially launches my Summer of Worrying, worrying that I'll get up some morning to find my garden gone. I go through this every summer and sometimes wonder if the vegetables we enjoy from the garden are really worth the amount of worrying required.

In an attempt to thwart the deer from entering the garden, I mixed up a batch of deer repellent this morning and sprayed it along the wood's edge, on the tree stump in the photo, on large rocks, wherever.

Deer repellent recipe:

In blender mix 2 cups water and 1/2 cup dry milk powder. Add 1-2 eggs and blend well. Now stir in 1 T. dish soap. DO NOT TURN ON THE BLENDER once the liquid soap has been added, or you'll be sorry. I know this for a fact. I tried it once.

I'll also sprinkle blood meal around the garden's perimeter once it's planted. We have a friend whose garden is in prime deer territory, but he swears by the blood meal to keep the deer away.

Another thing on my mind is how to survive our imminent kitchen remodeling. It officially begins on Monday. Here you see my dining room table loaded with most of the contents of my kitchen cupboards. I emptied the cupboards this morning, the top ones, that is. Still have the pots and pans cupboards to do, but I'll get to that tomorrow. So far I've survived the mess created by Ken's ripping up the old flooring so the new hardwood floor can replace it. I tell myself that if I can survive that step, I just might survive the rest of them.

Meanwhile, I've grown a little addicted to crocheting wool granny squares and felting them for coasters. If I can focus on the crochet, maybe I can forget about the deer and the remodeling.

Maybe.

Sunday jaunt

Ken had been getting ready for Sunday's jaunt for weeks. We were headed for York to attend the Maine Obsolete Auto League show. Not only was the "A" washed and polished, it also had had various minor surgeries to make sure the engine purred like a kitten...or coughed like a cat with a hairball, more likely.

The day dawned sunny but it never did warm up as much as the weather man had promised.

We wore layers of clothes so we could peel them off if the temperature got into the 60's. It never did.

The car has no windows and no heater, but the ride wasn't uncomfortable. The heat from the engine kept my feet warm, and if my feet are warm, the rest of me tends to be happy.

Each time I ride in this car, I think of the Joads in Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath. They rode from Oklahoma to California on Route 66 (unpaved) in a newer vehicle, but I doubt the front seat was much more spacious than this one. Jammed into their front seat were Tom Joad, his sister Rose of Sharon, and his mother. If they could be crammed into a small space for several days, then surely I can tolerate a drive of an hour or more.

We stopped for the Amtrak passenger train in North Berwick. The train was making its morning Portland-to-Boston run.

The car rattled and hummed along. It makes many strange noises, which I don't understand, but I suspect Ken knows the source of each one of them. He didn't appear worried, so I decided not to worry either.

Before we knew it, we'd arrived.

We were surprised by the hundreds of autos on display. Many of them, from the 50's and 60's, aren't what I'd call "obsolete," but I guess it all depends upon one's perspective (and age).

 I can't say I'm an antique auto enthusiast. Give me a new car that rides comfortably, has heating and air conditioning, power steering and brakes, and I'm happy.

But Ken's passion is antique autos, so I try to be supportive.

He always tells me to bring my knitting on these jaunts. He knows I'm not one to stand around and listen to guys discuss their old cars.

This time I took along some crochet supplies, too, because I wanted to learn to knit a granny square.
That proved to be quick and easy.

I also finished sock #1 of a pair to be donated to afghans for Afghans. I used a different color yarn on the heel, a wool/nylon combo, to give it additional durability.

So that was Sunday. We were back home by mid-afternoon.

Done and delivered!

Saturday was a happy day. That was the day I delivered 30 pots of basil to the A∆K state convention.

At times it was a "long haul" from March 2, when I painstakingly planted approximately 60 miniscule basil seeds, one by one, with tweezers, to April 28, when I turned the basil plants over to their new owners.

One mistake I made was planting some of the seeds in peat pellets, which yielded much larger and healthier plants, and other seeds in tiny pots filled with seedling starter, which yielded the smaller plants. Had I known there would be such a difference in the final product, I'd have used the peat pellets exclusively. Lesson learned, and I'll now start my own seeds (squash, cucumber, etc.) with only peat pellets. They're worth the 12¢ per pellet, definitely.

I had fun, though, watching the seeds sprout, babying them, keeping an eye on sun and water. Along about week six of the project, however, after I'd placed two or three plants in each 4" pot, I began to grow a little weary of carrying them outside on warm, sunny days, positioning them at windows on cool, sunny days or just plain cool days, and worrying that the smaller plants just wouldn't be up to snuff.

This past Friday was a big day, because it signified the almost-end of the Basil Project. I placed each pot into a gift bag, attached a label to each bag with directions for caring for and using basil, and patiently waited for Saturday to arrive.

Saturday morning my ever-helpful and supportive sidekick, Lynn, helped me transport the basil favors to a restaurant in Old Orchard Beach, where the convention was held.

I'm sure some of the ladies, the ones who maintain they kill every plant they try to nurture, were, let's say, less that overjoyed to receive a basil plant, but the majority seemed to be pleased with them. Several asked questions about keeping their plants healthy and happy, so I feel the majority went to good homes.

And yesterday I planted squash, zucchini, cucumber, and thunbergia seeds for my own garden. I can't wait for them to pop through the peat mix.

A TITillating memory

It was early in the evening of one summer day when I was about ten. My father came in from the barn, where he was milking the cows, and told me he had a job for me. He needed me to go down to town, on my bike, and get a can of teat dilators at the drugstore.

I was excited. I'd never before been allowed to go such a long distance, alone, on my bike.

After being handed the money to purchase the dilators, I was off on the three-mile journey.

It was a beautiful, warm evening and a great time to out on a bicycle, feeling all grown up.

I pedaled alongside the Carrabassett River most of the way. I pedaled past the Newell farm, the Moodys, the Carlson farm, and into town. I pedaled past Elm Street Market, past the town library, past the First Congregational Church, and my destination came into sight.

I cautiously pedaled across Main Street, looking both ways, to the drugstore. As I kicked down the bicycle's stand, it hit me:

I was going to have to say "teat" (or, more likely, as my father said it, "tit") to the man behind the drugstore counter.

Panic overtook me. How was I going to get a can of tit dilators without actually saying the word "tit"?

My mind raced. My heart raced. I reluctantly entered the store.

The clerk asked if he could help me. I hemmed and hawed, then I finally blurted out, "I need some of those dilator things. You know, for cows."

"Oh!" he boomed. "You mean TIT DILATORS!"

He handed me the can, I handed him the money, mumbled a thank-you, and skeddaddled out of the drugstore as fast as my legs would carry me.

Blossoms and boats and basil

On Thursday I decided to go into Portland on some errands. Portland is a lovely, small city with beautiful old architecture, and I always love being there, but I find I don't go in much any more. Not to just browse, anyway. A friend and I keep saying we're going to take a day soon and go to Portland to poke around in the shops in the Old Port area. I hope we do just that.

On Thursday I had specific destinations in mind, though, and more shopping to do once I left Portland, so I used my time wisely. My first stop was D Cole Jewelers, in the Old Port. It's a great jewelry shop full of  beautiful items, much of it handmade by D Cole. I was in search of some Pandora beads for birthday gifts, and I promptly found what I wanted. Actually what I really wanted was to linger in the shop for hours and select dozens of beautiful items for myself, but that was not to be.

After I left D Cole, I drove up to Congress Street and headed toward the east end of the city. KnitWit Yarn Shop (http://www.yelp.com/biz/knitwit-yarn-shop-portland) was my destination. I'd heard of this yarn shop awhile ago and had been wanting to check it out. Mainly I wanted to check out their Quince & Co. yarn, (http://quinceandco.com/) which is a Maine yarn spun in nearby Biddeford. KnitWit is a nice little shop brimming with natural fibers, my favorite. I ended up purchasing a rather elegant sock yarn, which I absolutely did not need. Then I headed out to the Maine Mall area for yet more errands.

I stopped first, though, to snap a photo of these beautiful cherry(?) blossoms at Eastern Cemetery.

Then last evening it was back to Portland, this time with our friends, for dinner at DiMillo's. Since DiMillo's is a boat (ferry, rather), converted into a restaurant, the views of Portland Harbor are always interesting. Here we have some of the more modest boats anchored at the marina. On the other side of the restaurant many very luxurious yachts were moored. Hmm. That lifestyle must be glamorous!

I finished the "Easy but Looks Difficult" scarf (http://luisafelice.blogspot.com/2012/01/easy-but-difficult-looking-scarf.html) on Friday. It's a basic feather and fan pattern, and it's free. I used a Cascade Heritage sock yarn (merino wool and nylon) in a deep teal. It looks royal blue in this photo, but it's a deep teal, trust me. The pattern is a four-row repeat with only the third row being slightly, but not very, challenging. The scarf is 60" long, so that was the challenging part.

And the basil! Yes, the basil! It lives! Not only does it live, it's starting to thrive. I transferred a few of the seedlings into 4 1/2" pots last week, to see how they'd do, and they're doing darned well. I now have about 25 pots a-thriving and will prepare more once I find out the total number who've registered to attend the spring convention on April 28.

To be honest, though, I'll be glad to get the basil out of my house. It's taking up precious space, for one. For another, we had a long spell of little sunshine and chilly temps, and that caused me much worry as to what this basil will look like when sitting in party favor gift bags at the big luncheon. I'm beginning to gain a little confidence in it this weekend due to the lovely sunshine and warm temperatures. It's supposed to climb into the 80's tomorrow.

That's the news from here.  Wait! One more thing. I know it's aggravating to have to type in squirrly-looking letters before posting a comment on my comment page. I'd like to remove this requirement, but for the life of me, I can't figure out how to do it. I've combed the inner workings of this blog relentlessly but come up with nothing. If someone can tell me, clearly, how to remove the identifying letters, I'd sure appreciate it. Also, suddenly I can't shrink the size of the header photo. The option to shrink it showed up briefly, then disappeared. I think I have gremlins toying with my blog.

A visitor

 Last weekend was a busy one, with an overnight visit from our six-year-old great niece, Miss V.

We always pack a lot of activities into her visits. This visit was no exception.

Soon after her arrival, she asked if she could "do that trick with the colors." I knew she meant the vinegar/baking soda/water/food coloring activity, so I promptly set it up for her. The most enjoyable part of this activity is playing in the colored water and mixing the various colors together to see what new colors she can create.

 Violet announced before she even got to our house that she hoped Uncle Ken would show her how to build a bird house. The two of them set to work on this project first thing the next morning. Or at least Uncle Ken set to work. That's Violet in the distance, sitting in the back seat of Uncle Ken's Model A. Violet's dad said this is Violet's version of "distance learning."

She did, however, get into the spirit of things once it was time to drive some nails. She'd been hoping to learn how to use a hammer to drive nails, and that dream became a reality.

I found it a tad anxiety-producing to have someone else in the house who enjoyed using my iPad. Ken never uses it, so it's all mine, all the time,...except, I now realize, when Violet visits.

We planted some seeds in egg shells, which Violet took home with her. I hope the cukes and basil sprout and she's able to grow them outside once the weather warms up.

Here Violet is strolling through my larger flower garden, which she calls the Fairy Garden, because she and I built a fairy house there last year. This past winter wasn't terribly kind to the fairy house, so Violet did some general maintenance work around it, hoping to lure the fairies back again.

Violet and I enjoyed a couple of walks in the woods. Violet loves nature, just as her mother does, and keeps an eye out for interesting sights. We think we spotted a tree stump where other fairies are living.

It was interesting to see, first-hand, how well Violet now reads. She's in first grade, after all, so she reads like there's no tomorrow. Late Saturday afternoon she said she'd run out of things to do, so I suggested she read to me while I knit.

And that she did.

In every position imaginable.



Just before she went back home Saturday, evening, I said, "Well, Violet. It's been a good visit."

She immediately corrected me: "It's been a GREAT visit," she said.

I can see again! Fa-la-la.

This past weekend I tried to start knitting a scarf, but I kept experiencing nothing but frustration. I raveled it four or five times after knitting several rows and finally ditched the pattern altogether.

Ken said maybe it is a pattern that requires TWO eyes for knitting.

He had a good point, because I've been "knitting with one eye" for several months. (These socks, finished last week, are from the one-and-only sock pattern I've ever used, by Yankee Knitter. http://www.kyarns.com/product/yankee-knitter-classic-sock-pattern I used Red Heart "Heart and Sole"super fine yarn and size 2 needles, so they took awhile to knit, but as I've said many times before, there's nothing like a pair of handknitted socks to make the feet feel cozy and cared for.

Anyway, on Tuesday I finally had the obstacle to happy knitting, the cataract in my right eye, removed. This creepy photo is me the evening following the surgery. I can hardly believe how much better my vision has become already. I thought it might take several days or even a few weeks before my sight was much clearer, but yesterday, the day after surgery, was like a dramatic scene from a movie for me: images grew sharper as the day went on, and colors grew richer. I was practically skipping with joy. I had all I could do not to run through the fields, my arms outstretched, singing a happy tune. I'd known for some time I had a cataract, but the thing developed so quickly over the past year that I thought maybe I was just being a wimp in saying I could barely see anything from my right eye. The ophthamologist said the cataract was a "doozie" and he wondered how I was able to see out of that eye at all. I said, "I couldn't."

So that's that. Cataract surgery, which was fairly simple from my perspective although no doubt requiring expert skill by my surgeon, is behind me and it's time to move on....(I should admit I felt the need to go to YouTube.com and witness a cataract surgery yesterday, just to understand exactly what had gone on while my face was under a sheet. I can't imagine daring to poke into someone's eye to correct a problem. What skill and knowledge!)

Let me introduce to you the very first blossom (above) from my Christmas cactus, which was given to me last year as a slip from my mother's Christmas cactus. My mother could make anything blossom.

I was so glad to get this slip, because I'd neglected to get one from my mother years ago.

And my African violets are enjoying the return of spring, if this particular one is any evidence.

They're coming into bloom again after a short rest. I discovered finally, after years of neglecting African violets but not realizing I was doing so, that the secrets to successful care are...
1. a North window
2. never direct sun
3. watering from the bottom of the pot (This alone immediately resulted in dramatic improvement in my violets' health) I put each pot in a plastic container with some water and..
4. a light dose of African violet food with each and every watering
5. light misting daily, and perhaps most important of all,
6. not overwatering  I touch the soil to make sure it feels dry before watering a plant, and I know it's sufficiently watered after sitting in the plastic container (margarine tub, whatever) when I touch the soil again and it feels damp. This can take a few hours on watering day.

Ta-dah! Happy violets.

The Easter chick in the header photo is from here: http://www.skiptomylou.org/
It's a quick and easy project requiring some felt pieces, a sewing machine, and a bit of your time.