M is for Morning
Morning light. The promise of a day beginning. Quiet, new, tall shadows and dew.
Green is morning to me in the summer.
Apples still green in a sea of leaves washed with new light.
Well. ABC along out of the way, you might be asking how my weekend went.
It went like so. Saturday. Promise of dyeing yarn (that Shetland) and some roving lures me into cleaning the house all day and doing laundry. For one must have a clean slate to dye.
House clean. Go to yarn room. Rummage in boxes. Realize no dye is to be had. Can't find it. It has either been lost in the move, misplaced, or tossed.
OK. No dyeing. Unpack the stash! Yes! I'll unpack the stash! I spent the rest of the evening unpacking and organizing the yarn room. Ah. I can see my yarn again! Touch it again!
Then, the flash floods. We had the hardest rain I can remember Saturday night. And hail, thunder, lightning, wind, the works.
Inspired by my new stash play-ability, I cast on for a new project, spun a bit on three fibers, and then went to bed.
Sunday...driving to my volunteer work, I am amazed at the extent of the flash flooding. And. The highway is closed. Washed out. I have to drive an hour around to get into town. Sigh. So began a long boring day of hectic volunteering and extraneous driving.
Knit, watch Munich, knit. Vino. Ah. Much better.
(But, but, now it's Monday again....)