Saturday we got a tree for the house. We usually go to a tree farm about a half-hour out of town and then tromp around. The tree hunt started out sunny, but as we got to Fern Ridge, the clouds rolled in and it became grey. I thought it might rain, but it didn't.
|The Friesan We Didn't See|
This weekend was the weekend of craft. I think I may be peaking out on craft.
As I've been writing this in the PLC parking lot, a woman of a certain age has driven up in her red SUV with Death Metal blaring loudly enough that I can hear it clearly through her car and through my car one stall away. Now she's sitting in the car with the engine off but the music on. I think the song must have ended, because she's getting out. She's in a fuchsia rain slicker, and walking away with a poinsettia in her hand, looking like Amanda King's grandmother and not like a Death Metal Rocker.