Right now I'm devouring my dinner of stuffing, creamy corn, and greens because I didn't quite get enough of the traditional Thanksgiving fare on Thanksgiving. (Greens aren't normally part of my tradition, but I had to cook them before they went bad and they have nice nutritional value.) I'm also listening to Christmas music.
All in all, a nice way to spend an evening alone.
So these evenings alone, and who am I kidding, occasional days alone, are proving to be pretty productive. At least in the knitting, cooking, and home maintenance front.
Here are some projects:
bandit raccoon and green kitty
vegetables for my friend's daughter for Christmas because she "loves to play garden"
buttermilk cheddar biscuits and pumpkin pie
a fourth bookshelf, because three just wasn't enough
little Christmas tree with only nine ornaments on it so far
In other news, we went to the Eastern Shore for a weekend and walked on the beach barefoot because it was just that nice out. I drove across a 17-mile-long bridge*, met Andy's dad and other siblings, beat Andy in Ping-Pong, beat Andy in Ping-Pong again, and saw the wild horses.
1. the pier in the middle of the bridge
2. you can't see our bare feet in the shadows, but they were bare
3. the moon rising over the stillness
It was a really nice weekend and I saw a part of Virginia that I literally did not know existed.
Oh, these states, so big and secretive.
I also got a job. Nothing too glamorous, too time consuming, or too boring.
I'm picking up some hours at the Scuba Center. I do love scuba so I consider it a pretty good fit and I kind of enjoy the part about getting paid to get out of the house.
To bring this full circle, I guess that means my productive days alone will be more limited.
I don't have too many more productivity photos, but there are more from the Eastern Shore here.
*Some of you might not know that driving over bridges is kind of one of my fears. I can do it and have driven some pretty major ones (Golden Gate Bridge, Bay Bridge, bridge to Dauphin Island, bridge to North Little Rock), but I usually do it in silence and with white knuckles.