My “good” mitts, knitted by friend Marji, are just the very best for keeping my skinny white girl hands warm. I am so crazed about them, I need to make some of mine own out of something from STITCHES. T
Rule 2: I have a serious desire for that buffalo fluff for them. ( I had a rule 1, but have forgotten it, momentarily.)
This week is what we look at as our spring. The fields are green and spring bulbs are popping up and the fruit blossoms are beginning to bulge out their tight wraps.
Since most of the tress blossom at the same time, we have a tri-county Blossom trail. It is doing a thing, not a buying them.
The time is spent looking and marveling the at the many differing colors of apricot, plums and pluots. Great swaths of clear,bright pinks, ivories and cherried blooms mark the small orchards of mandarins, satsumas, white peaches, ambrosias, Santa Rosas, Old Chinese. Many of the varieties are limited to small home orchards ; they aren’t tough enough to survive kind of treatment modern fruits need in shipping. So they are either picked by hand, sold in small batches at Farmer’s markets or just available at the neighbor’s.
Monst Americans will never get a chance to have a bowl of chilled Old Chinese peaches, or sit down to a plates of ripe and ruby persimmons, sliced open like a Japanese haiku ,the tender orange shimmering in the weak winter light.
Oh, my Number 1! I want a new piece of luggage to take to Stitches. I may in my lifetime fly someplace, but I’d like something that is nice and not so Barnacle Bill,the Sailor Man.