Rooting for the Underturtle

Why does the turtle cross the road?
I don't think he even really wants to get to the other side. OK, maybe for that "come-hither" female turtle. This morning I stopped to help my first turtle of spring cross the road. Well, more like air-lifted him. And this isn't the first time. I got an anonymous mention in our paper a few years ago when a local newspaper man witnessed me on a similar rescue.

I can't help it. One sunny day at the lake, when I was about 5 and running to Mom as she called "Time to go", I almost stepped on a wee painted turtle. We took her home for the summer and I named her Paula, since that was the absolutely most glamorous name possible. We fed her well and in the fall we set her free to hibernate. I knew it was the right thing to do, but I missed her.

I've been passing to my kids my wisdom from years of driving (such as it is. ) In the "brake but don't swerve to avoid animals" lesson, I think I forgot to mention the Turtle Exception. We have a fair population of Eastern Box Turtles around here and I find them charming, more handsome even than painted turtles or red-eared sliders. A turtle is not likely to suddenly dash back to the roadside from whence he came. A turtle doesn't suddenly dash anywhere. You can easily drift a little to one side of your lane and miss him.

As tempted as I am to keep one of the little fools for a pet, I know if you take them out of their territory they get discombobulated (much like humans.)
Turtles. Give 'em a brake.

Green Claustrophobia

When I was a kid, my friend's mom used to put on a 33 and sing show tunes at the top of her lungs while she cooked. I mean impressively At. The. Top. Of. Her. Lungs. She really put her heart into it, not caring about anything but the song. That is how I remember "Don't Fence Me In."

Things have been greening up around here (and we have the tree pollen count to match.) All the trees I could pretend were propping up the celestial dome over the long naked winter are filling out. Fencing me in, blotting out my sky.

It makes me feel edgy. At a time when most people are reveling in the promise of summer, the lush greenness of it all -- I'm missing the sky. You can take the girl off the plains, but you can't take the plains out of the girl. I always feel better when I look up, whether it's at the stars or at thunderclouds or at sheer incredible blue.

I'll adjust to the green. The closed in feeling will pass, but sometimes I long to spin around and see the uncluttered horizon in every direction.

So to counter my grouchiness at the approaching summer, here's something from it's good side:

A veritable rainbow of flipflops.

2738 Stitches

I have that "slammed in the face" feeling I get from Novacaine. I love having my teeth worked on, really I do. I want to keep them forever happy and healthy and if this is the price, I'm willing to pay it (not counting the rather large outlay of cash.)

But I do hate the Novacaine. I skip it when I can, but we were crowning a cracked tooth. The burnt bone smell is enough by itself. I do not need to add the kind of pain that makes me believe in levitation.

I pulled out my knitting while I was waiting for the mouthful of oomoo to cure (that stuff they used to make a mold of my tooth.) I'm working on a lovely hat with rows of stockinette & reverse stockinette, but I didn't get far. Actually, I got less than far. I frogged everything I'd done because it was 128 stitches wide and I decided 120 stitches would be better. I'm knitting this one by guess so one or two do-overs seems likely.

The dental assistant almost freaked out. 2738 stitches gone.

She wondered if it bothered me, that work lost. (I didn't even tell her it was for 8 stitches; didn't want to give her nightmares.) The point is (and I do have one) that I cared more about the hat being just the way I wanted it when I finished. Not perfect, but size matters.

Besides it's the beautiful YarnTree Melody yarn with long color changes I've gotten so attached to. It's to match this scarf.



Don't you just love when you get to the end of your project and you have just enough yarn to weave in the end, plus a little bit more so you don't get crazy with worry that you'll run out? 43 inches to spare. I think it's karma because I'm knitting this set for Santa Train.

Bye, bye Mr. Vonnegut

I was trying to explain to Vince why I liked Kurt Vonnegut, even read a few quotes from one of the first of the many tributes I expect to see over the next few days. I don't think he was convinced. Why is it always funnier when someone else says it? You can go here, or maybe read one of his books, but you'll never be able to go hear him lecture again. Sigh.

Good evening, Martin Luther King, Jr.

Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated 39 years ago today. In a speech he made the night before, he said, " I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight that we, as a people, will get to the promised land."

We just have to remember to keep working at it.