Birds and book, day 198 of 2012
Oh, but so much more. Today we made it up to the West Seattle street fair as well as the farmers market. The local economy? Seriously boosted. I, of course, invested heavily in soap because it seems I can't see a purveyor of soap without making purchases. Today I dropped a considerable amount of cash with Pirouette. Karen Gold's products have lovely packaging and she seems damned knowledgeable about her business. I was initially confused by a square bar of soap that seemed to be "share soap," (why smaller if you're supposed to share it, I wondered) but then I realized it was "shave soap." A number of booths down the way was the Soapworks Studio booth; I think I've been buying her soaps at street fairs since my Ballard days. Soapworks Studio's packaging is a bit country-fair in contrast to Pirouette's boutique wrappings but I know the soap is excellent. She has a wide range of flavors though "garlic mint" is not among them; that was my misreading of "garden mint." Which I likely bought. It's a blur. A sweet-smelling blur.
Because it's my birthday month and, by now, something of a tradition, Eli bought a new necklace for me--this time from Foamy Wader--and, shockingly, he purchased a panama hat for himself at the Ultrafino booth. It wasn't quite all buy-buy-buy, however; we stopped to listen to a song or two from Black Bangs and I held a baby bunny while talking to a woman representing the Seattle Farm Co-op group; naturally I mentioned the forthcoming City Goats book. The sales person at Click thanked us for "representing:" Eli happened to be wearing a t-shirt we'd got there a few weeks ago while I was carrying the bag I bought at a previous street fair. I'd just said "Huh; I thought the West Seattle Blog was supposed to be here but I haven't seen her" when Eli pointed at the corner of the Walk-All-Ways intersection and said, "Isn't that it?" Fangirl that I am, I stopped to gush about how much I love and rely upon the WSB.
Then it was time to return home with our haul, which included 21 pounds of apricots; we opted to wait for the bus which gave us a chance to have coffee at the newish Fiddlehead Cafe. They unfortunately have 9 - 3 hours so it's doubtful we'll be getting there often but the coffee was fine. Once we got back home I sadly tackled cutting up the limbs of about a third of the cherry tree; Eli had noticed earlier today that the birdhouse was hanging oddly low ("Why did Emma move that?" he wondered, before realizing that the branch it was hanging on was significantly lower as well); the branch had split as result of too much weight or too much wind or a Very Fat Squirrel. Before we left he performed the drastic surgery (necessary to do since much of the broken weight was resting on the poor plum tree); when we got home I set about filling two yard waste bags with the chopped-to-short-pieces branches. There's still quite the pile of slightly larger branches, much larger branches, and downright limb left to in piles about the yard. On the bright side, it sort of opens up that patch of garden bed; on the much larger less bright side, it's a somewhat sad looking tree now and we feel we've failed it.
Birds
robins
goldfinches
house finches
house sparrows
bushtit
northern flicker
pigeons
crows
dark-eyed junco
Book
The Pagani Project page 280, aka finished
Go Home, Miss America six chapters down (aka, all the print-out Eli had available)
You may say that I'm biased but that would ignore the somewhat scathing response I had to the first draft of Cocke & Bull: the first six chapters of Go Home, Miss America contain some of the finest writing I've read, I don't know, this year at least and possibly longer. It's amazingly good. I hope it finds a publisher (once it finds its way to an agent) so that the Imaginary Reader can read it, too.
Because it's my birthday month and, by now, something of a tradition, Eli bought a new necklace for me--this time from Foamy Wader--and, shockingly, he purchased a panama hat for himself at the Ultrafino booth. It wasn't quite all buy-buy-buy, however; we stopped to listen to a song or two from Black Bangs and I held a baby bunny while talking to a woman representing the Seattle Farm Co-op group; naturally I mentioned the forthcoming City Goats book. The sales person at Click thanked us for "representing:" Eli happened to be wearing a t-shirt we'd got there a few weeks ago while I was carrying the bag I bought at a previous street fair. I'd just said "Huh; I thought the West Seattle Blog was supposed to be here but I haven't seen her" when Eli pointed at the corner of the Walk-All-Ways intersection and said, "Isn't that it?" Fangirl that I am, I stopped to gush about how much I love and rely upon the WSB.
Then it was time to return home with our haul, which included 21 pounds of apricots; we opted to wait for the bus which gave us a chance to have coffee at the newish Fiddlehead Cafe. They unfortunately have 9 - 3 hours so it's doubtful we'll be getting there often but the coffee was fine. Once we got back home I sadly tackled cutting up the limbs of about a third of the cherry tree; Eli had noticed earlier today that the birdhouse was hanging oddly low ("Why did Emma move that?" he wondered, before realizing that the branch it was hanging on was significantly lower as well); the branch had split as result of too much weight or too much wind or a Very Fat Squirrel. Before we left he performed the drastic surgery (necessary to do since much of the broken weight was resting on the poor plum tree); when we got home I set about filling two yard waste bags with the chopped-to-short-pieces branches. There's still quite the pile of slightly larger branches, much larger branches, and downright limb left to in piles about the yard. On the bright side, it sort of opens up that patch of garden bed; on the much larger less bright side, it's a somewhat sad looking tree now and we feel we've failed it.
Birds
robins
goldfinches
house finches
house sparrows
bushtit
northern flicker
pigeons
crows
dark-eyed junco
Book
The Pagani Project page 280, aka finished
Go Home, Miss America six chapters down (aka, all the print-out Eli had available)
You may say that I'm biased but that would ignore the somewhat scathing response I had to the first draft of Cocke & Bull: the first six chapters of Go Home, Miss America contain some of the finest writing I've read, I don't know, this year at least and possibly longer. It's amazingly good. I hope it finds a publisher (once it finds its way to an agent) so that the Imaginary Reader can read it, too.