Spring has suddenly erupted in the eastern half of the country. Everything is blooming about six weeks early, and according to Mr. Crafty, who is a botanist, plants are blooming in combinations that haven't been seen in years. Magnolias and honeysuckle, for instance, blooming at the same time.
My test knitter is about done with one of the last objects for the collection, and it's looking like we'll be having to do the photography of all these knits in hot weather unless I decide to hold off until Fall.
The trees outside our windows have erupted in flowers, something that generally happens in May. The windows in our bedroom serve as an ever changing seasonal headboard, which right now looks like this (ignore the mess):
Chimayo now spends her days on her blanket by the living room windows listening to the birds that have suddenly started singing their spring songs. She's totally down with this strange weather.
I'm just glad it's not eighty anymore. I know it sounds curmudgeonly, but I'm not a big fan of summer. The worst part of it, frankly, is that when it's over eighty you can't properly enjoy a cup of hot tea or coffee, and the iced stuff just doesn't have the same effect. There's nothing cozy about curling up with a book and a glass of iced coffee.
So now that it has dropped back down to the sixties I've been rocking a lot of this combo:
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| The book is A Covert Affair, about Paul and Julia Child's time as spies and their subsequent persecution in the McCarthy era. |
Gotta enjoy it while I can!