back in the sticky

Hot and horrible today, but at least my roof is still on. I do realize this is something to be thankful for. It's 88F and the humidity has actually dropped somewhat (today's word is dewpoint) and my clothes are sticking to me. We do not air-condition. We ceiling-fan. We want to sleep.

I am getting a terrible case of transference for the plumber. He came by today because the upstairs toilet had ceased to flush. Since the basin next to it had been getting less and less enthusiastic, we thought it might be some pump thing. Turned out no one had changed or cleaned the tap filter in, he figured, at least ten years. The toilet's entrails, ailing since I moved in, were no more. He also fished three small pieces of quartz and a good-sized pebble out of the basin trap (a love letter left by the kitten Abbey). He's going to come back and replace the downstairs bathroom tap, basin, and shower unit, too.
One day I will get everything in this house working. I have to admit I am waiting for the electicity to go, since the heat and the water and the roof have, but in my Catalogue of Improvements, I forgot to mention installing five ceiling fans, and the electrician had a good look at the wiring then and didn't plotz.

At the moment there are three frogs in Doug's sunken Rubbermaid tub (which is about 18" x 12") and four in the frog puddle. It rained yesterday, which was a very good thing. I went to a garden center for a few 20% off perennials (my driveway looked so empty...). The owner remarked that the rain was good for the plants and terrible for business, but at the moment he thought he would prefer the rain. I did, too. We got a little over half an inch.

Rather than exploit Doug digging ditches as I had intended, we actually sat in the Loom Room (or Spinning Parlor) and spun, and watched the rain. It would slack off and we would dump the buckets of water that had poured off the eaves into the frog puddle. Simple pleasures. The frog puddle looks better. This was the first time I have really had to spend spinning (when I didn't argue myself into doing something 'useful,' like playing Collapse) in the new space and I liked it very much. I am spinning 8 oz of Crosspatch Creations 'Black Hills Gold' blend: some black fine wool, some tussah, some bombyx in peach, and some rayon. I think the rayon is the screaming lime, which makes the whole thing come alive.



I need (ha) a murky varied green to ply with it.

I had been feeling somewhat low since giving up, for the moment, on Birch, and reading my Spin-Off back issues has been a great help. Now I yearn after Bosnian crochet, and lacy socks, and silk bricks. I am not the fastest (nor least distractible) of crafters, so I think Labor Day will begin the great march toward Christmas... I wish my Texas aunt needed anything warm.

A friend from the other day:



A Fork-Tailed Bush Katydid! Elegant beast.