Flint Knits

Today is a grim day in the Midwest, weather-wise. Huge winter storm, freezing rain, windy — just plain miserable. No natural light, of course, so it’s hopeless to try to take pictures of knitting. But I was charmed by two things that seem extra-special in this weather, and which I never would have noticed during the obvious prettiness of last week’s Indian Summer.

First, the lover has been painting our living room a bright palm/grass green. On this grey hazy day, suddenly it looks all antiquey, and this huge, silly doctor-seuss silk flower looks somehow sophisticated. Who knew all it took was a dreary day to class up our 19th Century Flint-town digs?

I risked life and limb on the icy roads to buy ingredients for bread pudding (I have priorities, after all, and dessert always comes before personal safety). When I got home, I found this brave little guy on the front porch.

All trembly in the rainy wind, it was just a pretty little sprout coming up out of the dead mums I should have long since cleared away. Pretty, pretty, pretty. But, oh, the brutal death it’s in for when the blizzard hits!

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