Melt, mud, sticks, neighborly neighbors, boobs

What could be more wonderful than the sound of melting snow? This week it's filled the air with silent slushiness. As soon as we saw it going, Partner dashed outside with his shovel and dug up the last of the potatoes. He thinks there are a month's worth left. Then he tracked mud all over the house because he neglected to put on his wellies... I walked the dog and Franklin this morning, and we all got very muddy too; I however, am pro-active about mud. I got the hose and sprayed us all down. Dog included.

Partner insists we're getting more snow this week. I'm adamantly denying it.

Actually, last week Franklin and I went out walking in the sling, and I enjoyed using a makeshift walking stick to help keep us from slipping. When I prune my shrubs, I generally keep any long woody sticks to save as supports for plants which tend to flop over, like runner beans or delphiniums. So I have a stack of tall trimmed sticks in my garage, perfect for walking. Then the last day before the big melt, as we strode confidently down our street, one of the neighbors (I don't know him at all, as he lives quite a few houses away and keeps to himself) hailed me and presented me with a sanded, varnished, rubber-bottomed stick. I think he made it himself. I was really touched. I don't see him much, but next time I'm going to thank him again, and tell him how wonderful it works.

I have a feeling that even though I don't recognize the neighbors at that end of the street, they probably recognize me. I walk past their houses nearly every day; but since we live at the end of the cul-de-sac, those neighbors have no reason to walk past my house. When I first had Franklin, Partner walked the dog for the first couple of weeks, and one of those neighbors we didn't know asked him as he passed if I'd had the baby!

Here is a boob I knitted for charity. I don't know if charity actually wants them though. As I was knitting, the further along I got, the more I thought, am I just embarrassing myself? Don't adjust your screen. It really is meant to be bright red with a powder blue nipple.

Christmas. Ten days until. Still not ready. Might never be.