Broken Down in West Virginia

"Strange as this Weather Has Been" by Ann Pancake has derailed my state reading.  I have made it to page 68 and hope the book gets better.  This book is my pick for West Virginia.  I may have to shelve it for awhile and skip to my Hawaii book sitting on the night stand.  I used to have an Amazon link to show the book picture, but it disappeared.  I liked showing the covers.

I have been rereading the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon.  I think she may come out with the next book at the end of the year.  I am waiting for the last Robert Jordan book to be released.  It should be good and finally over.   All these series are dragging on for way too long.  The new Sookie book will be out in May. That series really needs to end! 

I think I will put down my reading and go putter around in my sewing room.  I need to finish four squares for a family project.  I have the binding to put on a small quilt.

Inspiration and More Inspiration

Ellen was telling me that her oratory is coming up and it needs to be on someone that inspires her.  I asked if she has any ideas.  Ian and Ned were in the car also.  You would think with all the media that we are exposed to that any of them would come up with an inspiring person - nope.  In fact, I have been struggling with the question as well.  There are always the standard choices, but as great as these figures are, do they still inspire?  Truly and passionately inspire? 

The oratory question did get off topic as Ellen said maybe she should do Patrick from SpongeBob.  My brain went fuzzy at this point, I despise SpongeBob.  I did tune in when Ellen quoted Patrick as saying "no one knows the economics of my mind."  I really turned this phrase over for awhile before asking if this was the correct expression, it is SpongeBob afterall.  Ellen says, "no it is the ukanemics, ecomenics, innomonics, innamenmes of my mind."  I took a deeeeeep breath.   "Is it maybe inner mechanism?", I asked.  Bingo.  I am not sure it is possible to know the imonemics of Ellen's mind.

I did get a little bit inspired to work in my sewing room.  I am inching toward finishing something.  I got inspired, okay aggravated, to tear out the border I was trying to Y-seam.  I have cut the pieces to sew on an un-mitered border, phew!

I got inspired to do some cooking in the kitchen.  I made my carrot soup, yummy delicious and creamy.  Last night over a dinner of carrot soup Ned inquires, "if you poison me dead and bury me in the dirt box will anyone know?"  I assured him that indeed someone would find out I had done it, the pot of soup would be evidence.  This is why I don't enjoy cooking anymore.

Purple and Blue

I don't really like purple.  It is just not a color I have embraced.  I like a little bit in a quilt to brighten it up, but purple in general is just a no-way.  But, I do own a purple shirt to support the Ravens.  I can't see myself in a jersey, so I wear a purple turtle neck.  I packed it to the back of the drawer today and am sad.  We, everyone I know in Baltimore, wanted the Ravens to make it to the Super Bowl.  I still can't believe they lost.  I have been quite blue.

Ellen keeps telling me things can't be purple.  It took me awhile to figure out what in the world she was talking about, I could never find a context to the comment.  It must be something from tv, but it means that food, events, life, etc. can't be mixed.  You can have red or blue, but purple is just not right.  I wish life could be this way, but most of life is purple.  I have to say I do prefer the use of purple to black and white.  Grey is so dull, at least purple implies  a little zip.  It is interesting to watch a child change from a literal thinker to an abstract one.

Alabama and Wyoming

My Alabama book was, "To Killl A Mockingbird" by Harper Lee.  This really is all I can say, because the book's history really speaks for itself.  One article I read declared it "the most relevant book of the 20th century."  As proof I will example Ian.  We are also listening to it on tape for Ellen.  The boys are loving the book read by Cissy Spacek.  Ian keeps telling me he is trying to be a gentleman just like Jem tries throughout the book.

My Wyoming book was "Where Rivers Change Direction" by Mark Spragg.  It is a memoir of growing up in Wyoming on a working dude ranch.  His description of the horses and landscape are beautiful.   The book is a series of short stories starting when he is ten and ending as a fifty year old.  The last two stories should have been edited out, they didn't fit with the rest of the book.  Thanks to my friend Jane for the recommendation.

I actually quilted for awhile yesterday, it felt nice.  I have no idea when I will get around to it again.  I need someone to do two y-seams for me, I just can't figure it out.

Psst.......shhh Juno here again.  She, that two legged slave, still hasn't figured out my paws can type.  She also hasn't seen me do karate or play the accordian.  She thinks I  am weak and foolish, because I am getting so fat and have these tiny little back legs.  I also lick all the fur off one leg to make her think I am neurotic.  

Last year we (trust me I had nothing to do with it) adopted another cat.  Everyone thinks she is so cute and cuddly.  They talk about how sweet she is, how she purrs all the time.  They think she is wonderful, because she greets everyone at the door.  What is wrong with saying hello from under the bed?  I keep trying to convince this interloper she would be happy somewhere else. On Wednesday morning I told that OTHER cat how to get to the giant field of catnip.  I told her she would have to walk for a full day through woods and stream, but when she got there it would amazing.  I told her it was surrounded by endless bowls of food and bins of wonderful cat toys.   She set off immediately.  

I decided to really play it up.  The last two nights I slept on her spot on the bed.  I let myself be picked up for a minute.   I even made myself sit by the bathtub while my "owner" relaxed in the water.  I let her pet me even though she was wet and smelled like eucalytus.  Things were really looking up for me,  I was King Cat again.  I haven't had to share my cat food or treats.  My litter box doesn't smell like girl pee.  The big dog dunderhead is back to following me around.  All is right in my universe.

Seven o' clock this morning we were rudely woken up by a flock of black birds or crows.  Those dratted birds were making the biggest racket, as soon as they stopped we heard a little meow on the porch.  Damned if that little cat hadn't returned.  I had to go outside while my caretaker fussed and fawned over the tiny show-stealer.  I will just have to come up with another plan.