Sunday Sundry - Vol. 34

Hi.  I'm still here.  You?

Some funny guy at the grocery store Saturday morning peeked at my cart and told me not to stock up on too much.  You know, just in case of the rapture and all.

Six o'clock Saturday evening found me standing at the stove, making chili for supper and feeling my knees and muscles ache in the good way that they do after gardening.

I put quilting on hold because it's supposed to rain over the next several days, and I wanted to get something—anything—accomplished outside before that happened (and the crop of mosquitoes that will also inevitably result).  

I managed to get quite a fair bit done, actually.  Transplanted all my astilbe from one bed to the north side of the house.  With the shade tree now gone, they would have shriveled in the full sun otherwise.  I moved half a dozen other things around, weeded, and generally poked around in the dirt as one does in a garden.  It felt good to get in there with a shovel and feel and smell the soil.  If that's weird, I don't want to know.

I should probably apologize to my next-door neighbors for having to view my stooped over backside for hours on end.  Maybe having a nice flower garden for them to look at in a month or so will make up for the temporary assault to their eyeballs these past couple days.

My friend Joy (Taradiddle and Malarkey) sent me this potholder recently.  How nice of her to think of me, especially when she's got so much else on her mind, like the graduation of her daughter yesterday.  Joy, if you're reading this, I hope you all came through it okay.

I sure do heart Pyrex and continue to pick up a few pieces here and there.  Like this summery Cinderella bowl...

...and these fridgie dish lids.  If I buy them (the lids), they (the dishes) will come, right?

I hope you have a wonderful day.  The sun is out now, but we're supposedly in for some strong storms later today.  

Sounds like a good time to be in my basement, quilting, listening to the Foo.