Walls have eyes and plarn, technical notes

This morning just for a couple of minutes, this eye image appeared on the fireplace wall.  

Above the middle there. It looked astonishingly like an eye. And it may be my overheated imagination.

I've resumed drinking one cup of coffee in the morning, now that I seem to be able to. I make a pourover, Melitta style cone sitting on the cup, strong enough to write its own blogpost.  It's a huge boost for my glum usual start to the day, and definitely gets me up. 

That first sip, steaming hot, powerful, so glad I can handle caffeine, is a daily wonderful event.  It may contribute to seeing images on the wall, too, come to think of it.

I was interested in the various plarn contributions yesterday, thank you. What I observed with the bread wrappers is that plastic has changed. 

A few years ago, they were more brittle and I crocheted and knitted fairly easily with them. It's not easy on your hands, but it was more doable than with today's bags. 

They're far more elastic and tough and rubbery and staticky, and quickly jam together in a way that earlier bags didn't. 

So that was an interesting finding. I don't have any plastic shopping bags, banned in this state years ago. There aren't even any caught in the trees in windy days!

But with a different warp thread, as suggested by  Leigh, I will cut up and weave the bread wrappers  as they come. I certainly like using them instead of feeling like a bad environmentalist when they arrive. And now I'm thinking of using other bits of plastic wrappers likewise, making useful things out of them. 

I think I'll warp up a big piece of cardboard, favorite loom material, with some of my cotton warp thread, and just add in weft as it arrives in the Misfits boxes. I fact I will go through my single stream recycle container before I take it out and see if I can reuse any of that, too. Potatoes and apples arrive in plastic and mesh bags.

Taking care of the earth is a form of close to home resistance. Anyway, that's my story.

Happy day everyone, resistance can be fun if you look at it that way. 

 

Lovely day to start my year

 Yesterday was full of wishes and greetings and visits, thank you for your part,  with more to come next week. Handsome son brought lunch he'd made, chicken breast, garlic, mozzarella melted with big crisp rolls. Dessert was a miniature Italian fruited bread, a gift from my cleaning family. 

Lovely afternoon, and he brought down the box of little Christmas ornaments and set them up around the place.

 

He also accepted my printer and scanner to replace his non working ones, which he will take to be recycled. I never use them nowadays. And we made Christmas day plans, another easy dinner.

Then later, in the evening, Gary and the well neighbor came over with cake and cream and ice cream, to wish me. We had a lovely evening chatting and eating cake, and she accepted an artwork she loves, a stitched piece, for her house. 

I talked about why this was fine for me, too, overcame her hesitancy, and she went away happy. It's a good artwork that's been exhibited, admired, and came home with me. Now it's where it's loved, yay!

Gary was a bit dismayed about my plans to move the big plants to the library, but was persuaded it's okay. He hates change unless he's doing it!

All in all, one of the best birthdays. Just what I like, home, chatting with one or two people, good food. I'm very lucky.

Interesting that I managed free cycling even yesterday!

Happy day, everyone, and go find this video on YouTube, my favorite school nativity play ever

Talk about fighting the good fight!

 

Photo AC

Fridge ahoy, misfits, Bloomsday and Dalloway Day.

Yesterday involved multiple texts and messages and emails and phone calls to a couple of local non big box stores I've bought appliances from and done okay. 

I eventually found a  fridge model which seemingly will fit the space, the doorways, my budget and handsome son's color preference -- white-- and my other concerns -- no icemaker, because of friends' ice maker flooding disasters, and it's a second floor condo with a downstairs neighbor. So it's paid for, ow, and on for delivery Wednesday.  

After all this stressful stuff, I was so spent I went and lay outside in the shade listening to birds. Quite possibly dozing off too.

Handsome Son is happy with the prospective new fridge, emptied out his old freezer, found most of the contents were of interest mainly to archaeologists, and brought the rest over to put in my chest freezer. 

He'll empty the fridge as he goes, in time for the new one. He certainly needed to declutter, though this is an expensive way to go about it. 

Despite the stress, this was encouraging to me to know my ability to deal with setbacks is still there and functioning fine, including multiple techie tasks. This is a bigger deal than younger people might realize, says she in a snooty tone. 

Yesterday the Misfits Box arrived, and I was fervently glad to feel well enough to face handling food, and washing and prepping.  Even thinking about, though not yet doing, cooking. The extra pack of carrots is a freebie they threw in.

Misfits has started a recycling program, involving egg carton bubble wrap, freezer gel packs and the foil cooler bags. The gel packs can even be sanitized and reused. So I'm going to start that.  I leave them out the night before delivery, where they'll put the new box,  they'll pick up.

They're conscientious about using recyclable packing anyway and after I've unpacked and prepped, I break down the boxes, bundle them flat with the other packing and recycle here. Just as glad to have them help though.

And today is Bloomsday, but my almost-read copy of Ulysses, which kept my place year to year, was lost when my old Kindle died and my classic collection wouldn't transfer to the new one. 

Also, since Woolf's Mrs Dalloway, wonderful stream of consciousness book was also set in mid June, I think this is Dalloway Day, too. 

If you're still not through both books, do try them. There are echoes and similarities between them, very different, both cornerstones of English lit. Yes, one is Irish, but I mean written in British English.

Both take place over the course of a single day with  all the intersecting lives and encounters from the viewpoint of the main character, Bloom in Ulysses, Mrs Dalloway in the eponymous novel.

Mrs Dalloway in particular, continues to be significant with its contrast between the elegant Mrs Dalloway off to buy flowers for her party and the suicidal war veteran with PTSD. In this case WW1, but poignantly timely still. It's really worth experiencing.

After a couple of interested comments about our gardens, I think, this being a great time of year, I'll wander around the street today getting pictures for you. 

We have landscapers, and we plant in spite of their cut and slash approach. We do have official shrubs and trees, too, which they "prune", oh dear. More tomorrow.

Happy day, everyone! Thanks so much for all the care and concern this week. I've had better weeks, but nobody has better blogistas.