Not much of a coup. Although no ice cream came home with me, I bought and ate potato chips. 

It was a rough couple of days, but I heard unexpectedly from friends here and there who must have sensed I needed a little virtual hug. 

Those in my acquaintance who have experienced loss up close and personal have told me to expect this. 

Expect what is unexpected. 

Expect that you can bump along, breathing, doing, being, and then WHAM. Sorrow gets right up and kicks you in the center of the back like a Ninja in spiked cleats. You never really see it coming; it takes your breath away. The wounds are so deep you think you may not be able to stand up again, but you can. There are plenty of people around to grab you by the hand and pull you to your feet. Your job is to put one foot in front of the other and stay on the path.

I think I will go for a walk...


         Well, mostly.


I have been COUNTING COUP at the grocery store.  Counting coup is is a way the Plains Indians gained prestige. "...prestigious acts included touching an enemy warrior with the hand, bow, or with a coup stick then escaping unharmed..."

Let me explain how I am counting coup.

I try to eat as healthily as the next person, but I have a lot of food weaknesses. If I can resist the one or two crappy food cravings of the day, I can resist them all. At least, for THAT particular trip to the grocery store.

Most of you know what I mean.

Also, if it doesn't go in the cart, it can't go in the car, and if it isn't in the car, it can't be unloaded into the house.

So here is my self-imposed test of strength, will, and determination.

I decided to touch and leave behind whatever might trigger my loss of self-control. I am documenting it with my cell phone.

Here are my first two.

I did not actually touch the cruellers, just the tray. But the aroma when I opened the serving case was heady and beckoning. And I said no, thank you.


My grocery store has a Starbucks inside it. Some of you may not think that is very unusual, but I live in a place where the opening of a Chik-fil-a was front page news on more than one occasion, and one of the very few NON-buffet restaurants is named Fatz.

Maybe you remember that I do NOT care for Starbucks coffee. 

I don't. 

Unfortunately, I found out I DO like their milkshakes. You know, the stuff they make that doesn't have any of their muddy, ground-sweepings flavored coffee in it. Frappuccinos.

Then I tried a Chai Iced Latte, and I was hooked. The problem is, it disappears too fast. But today, I have Tazo's Chai concentrate, which I am going to try for the first time. We will see. Tea Time is going to be interesting.


Lavender in my garden. 

I will always associate lavender with a particular family member. 

I know Rosemary is for Remembrance, which is my OregonBrother's favorite, but these I planted to remember his wife.


I spent yesterday with a close friend. HMHMC went with me on my first date with my husband. The three of us went for drinks after work. She has a long history of making me feel brave enough. She has a no-nonsense approach to adversity and in the past few years it has REALLY been exercised. I am proud of her and grateful to her. 

Today, I will spend some time knitting on a shawl that starts from the ruffle up. It takes a little over an hour to knit one row. I forgot these things when I chose this project:
1. I hate lace weight yarn
2. I hate long, boring rows of all knitting and/all purling
3. I hate lace weight yarn

I will knit two more rows on it, and then switch to working on some chunky weight FOOT OVENS (a Yarnharlot recipe) and maybe some worsted socks with left over Iris Cascade 220 Superwash.

Don't worry, quilting friends. I finished my danged octopus applique'.  I don't like octopus armpits. I don't like teeny, reverse applique' bubbles. I don't like loose-weave fabric and dull scissors combined for applique'. But I finished it.


Yesterday was a regular day. Visit to the recycling station, exchange of books at the library, stop at the grocery store for more things in packages that will end up at the recycling station.

 Great sandwich for lunch, though. Fresh tomato, avocado, and hard-boiled egg on homemade whole wheat bread. It was delicious. 
I was never a fan of tomatoes but I find I am craving them. My Florida-sister-in-law and my Florida-brother have forever spoiled me for fresh avocado.They sent me a huge box of the smooth-skinned kind a while back--grown on their Florida estate.

 I can't wait to be the recipient of fruit from their New York compound.

Sounds grand, doesn't it? My Florida-brother can make anything grow anywhere and when he has spare time and a few inches of black dirt, stand back.


I am still here. 

I am still knitting. 

I am also wandering around in the garden, some. 

Also, applique is stepping up to take my hand.