No, I mean it:
Couldn’t resist. One of the speakers in sacrament meeting on Sunday said that each of us needs to spend a little time in nature every day. So on the way home from work last night, I pulled off at Trinity Park [the one where Middlest got lost when she was six], people-watched, and put another row on Willow’s shawlette. Between that knitting and what I’ve done this morning, I’m about where I was when I stopped to tink back and start over on smaller needles.
Yesterday was a day for taking pictures. This is the house I might have described recently. (I know I did, to a friend, but I think also here?) The city is working on our street, so I have to take a detour to get to the freeway.
A nice little spark of color in a sea of more traditional Craftsman cottages.
I wondered if I could get anything interesting by photographing the reflection in the side view mirror. I rather like the built-in frame. It’s a beautiful park that runs alongside the Trinity River, and never more lovely than in the fading light of day.
Not Ansel Adams, but still fun. I’ll leave you with Macbeth’s three weird sisters.
- Five years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!