Quiche, the Bishop and a Sock

I mentioned I'd given an artwork to the neighbor who visited and who's very happy with it. I managed to find a picture. It's the  left here, entitled The Cellist, stitched on linen, among various other stitchings.

This is a setup I did when I was demoing various fiber arts at the library, this one on goldwork. Bottom right is a slightly crazed photo of me they used to use for promos.

And, speaking of neighbors, I free cycled this giant ceramic planter for Gary, to someone strong enough to lift it.

Yesterday was about cooking a rapid quiche, using three cheeses, sharp cheddar, mozzarella, and feta crumbles. No added salt, plenty in the cheeses. All the rest of the spinach, three eggs.  One slice with a piece of toasted multigrain, pretty good supper. Near Christmas, so it's Cheeses of Nazareth.

 

After which, the Annual Watching of "The Bishop's Wife", the only Christmas movie I like. Especially the skating scene!

Look at that cast. Speaking of which, I cast on a sock, and let's hope this yarn works better for socks than it did for gloves. So far so good.

And here's today's poem, about which I have mixed feelings.

Not a great idea to just endure a season instead of plunging in and seeing what's good about it, but I may be in a minority there, a lot of people being ready to get past the solstice and count the lengthening days.

Happy day, everyone! Whatever length the daylight. Here's a tribute to all Sags everywhere, including Gary and his daughter, much more to my taste.

Cheers!

On substitution and worries

 Yesterday I found my pony palm is busy reproducing, new stems emerging from the parent bulb. 

And the light just striking right, found a spiderweb construction traveling all over the ficus plant. 

Hard to see here, but spinnerets thrown from branch to branch all over. I was sorry to remove it, but I'm not sure it's good for the tree to be stifled by webs.

So much goes on in this household of one which I don't know about. 

And today Krista Tippett came through yet again with thoughtful newsletter including the poetry section. 

Padraig O'Tuama muses on Laura Villarreal's poem,  here's the opening

She goes on to say how she takes care of her worries, mothers them, though they're unconcerned with her caring. And the commentator points out

This is very much along the same lines as William Cooper in Scenes from Married Life where his main character reflects that we tend to get attached to our worries and might be lost without them.

And that in turn reminds me, when I keep seeing subjects for sermons everywhere, of the Rector, Mark Ainger, in Barbara Pym's A Few Green Leaves, thinks sadly that his middle aged parish workers can come up with much better sermon ideas than he can.

All this is just musing as I consider options for the time and sharing I spend on Twitter which now seems to be on life support. I'm pretty sure I can find plenty of interesting thinking without it.

Meanwhile, chop wood carry water, I made a couple of easy quiches yesterday , with some of Gary's harvest plus mushrooms. These will freeze in slices for handy small meals when I don't know what to eat.

Mending 's on the agenda today, 

and I made sure it will happen by finding the necessary bits yesterday and putting them out. That's usually the obstacle to getting small stuff done.

But, best of all, here's a couple of beauties from yesterday's knitting group

See the leather tag, the boutique touch?

And prepare for cute overload here, owner due to arrive in a couple of weeks

That seems more significant than anything I've been thinking about.

Happy day everyone, consider what we'd do if our worries were resolved, hmm.

Liz Adams, four-selvedge saori woven tapestry, public collection of Mercer County,