Not quite a murmuration

 Walking today was easier, temperature up to the 40s, and the trees were decorated with starlings, who rose up as I passed then settled back.

It's the time of year when flocks arrive, every tree branch with its occupants, all shouting, when they're not dive bombing the neighbor's feeder. See that lovely sky? We get a lot of dappled skies.

We have flocks of juncoes, too, who arrive in November and leave in spring, to summer elsewhere. Maybe they like cold, but not too cold, weather.

It's also the season where people start bringing cut trees and greens home to decorate for the holidays, and I have to proceed with caution. I'm deathly allergic to live cut greens. 

Not if they're planted, but that moment when cut branches start to smell wonderful is when my throat seizes up, I gasp for air, and lose my voice so I can't explain what's wrong! 

I used to work in a women's nonprofit, where the volunteers would decorate the buildings every year. They agreed to keep the doors leading to the area of my office closed -- and a sign saying no greens in here! -- but even so I'd lose my voice and have to keep getting outside to try and recover.

It was the time of year where I had to speak officially at many parties and end of year events, not a good time to be croaking at best.  Nowadays I suppose I'd have an EpiPen, but I don't think they were much known then, the main advice being to avoid the irritant or have shots six months before you knew about it.

All the years growing up I was very sick over Christmas, which my mother thought was bronchitis. Nobody ever caught the connection until, in our married house, I had the porch glassed in and set the tree out there in view of the street, for everyone to enjoy, front door closed.

That was the first Christmas I was well, and we realized what was up. After that I knew how to stay well over the season and it was a big improvement. It involves very brief visits to greens-infested buildings and some people who don't get it, oh well.

This week is also the return of the ants. A little column of them showed up in the living room. I suppose the cold snap has made them look for warmth. Not willing to get the $$$ Exterminator back in December, I checked out ant repellents. 

Some highly rated indoor-safe $$ sprays and traps show their active ingredient is -- borax plus sweetener. Well, I don't need expensive methods, so I reverted to my old mixture, before we found the ants nest under the siding,  that is. That needed John the Exterminator. 

So here's a container of borax mixed with confectioners sugar.

There's another one where I saw other ants. If these work, fine. I'll soon know when casualties appear. I already keep food in screw top glass jars or in the freezer. Sweep allll the time, all that.

Up to now Boud 0, ants 0. I'll keep you informed on the score.

Happy day everyone, what a cheery holiday post, all about deadly greens and creepy ants. Off to read now, maybe the last Ruth Galloway I haven't read.

It's about the pandemic. Another cheerful topic.

I did all the things

I put together some exciting little packages for blogistas, to mail out on Monday.  No pictures. Classified.

Then, since I'm going to the post office anyway with them, I finished off the second glove for the Sock and Glove Ministry, to send at the same time.

Two pairs of gloves, one of socks. I think my next socks will be spiral ones for a change.

Then Gary came over with a request, which we'd talked about a few days ago.

This is a Japanese silk window sail I made for him, he tells me ten years ago, which hangs in his loft skylight window and moves gently when there's a breeze.  It's held in place by tension rods. He'd seen this one I made for my own similar window, 

and admired it until I took the hint and made one for him. 

His is wearing out a bit at the rod, so I'm going to do a repair on it. It's a lovely piece of fabric. My own is just an upcycled pillow case. 

So that will happen. And, speaking of critter deterrents,  I'm trying yet another approach to fighting the ants on the kitchen counters. None at the baseboards, so they must be in the wall. Everyone has them. These are so small they can get into screw cap jars, just climbing in the threads.

The latest WMD is equal parts borax, baking soda and confectioners sugar, in a shallow container, some artfully spilled, to attract them. I notice a lot fewer ants on the counter this morning, so I'm hopeful.  I'm certainly tired of sharing my own food with them.

On a cheerier subject, in response to various messages I've had about the construction of the slot and tab fabric book, I deconstructed mine to show you 

Here's the constructed book with the pages temporarily numbered with masking tape and marker, showing you the usual page sequence.

Then I took the book apart, and now you see how the numbers work before you construct it.

One side 

Other side 

Done this way you can slide the pages together into the right sequence. It's a kind of Chinese puzzle of a project. This is why I referred you to Ann Wood's website, where she gives you number diagrams and a step by step of the construction sequence. 

You need them if there's a sequence to your stitched pages, such as seasons, or some such progression. Mine didn't have that kind of logical progression, aside from deciding which pages I wanted for front and back covers.

And yes, I did get it reassembled after the pictures!  Some people try this out with blank fabric pages before getting into all the stitching it entails. 

My current stitched book might become a tab and slot, or maybe an accordion. We'll see.

When Elizabeth of York gets a bit heavy -- oh, Weir doesn't accept the Josephine Tey version of Richard III's innocence of the Princes in the Tower disappearance. As laid out in Daughter of Time, which is worth reading if you haven't yet.

Tey discounts Thomas More  as using third hand gossip to accuse Richard. Weir clearly accepts More, and has staked her credibility on Richard's guilt. A lot of writers and academics have. They have a lot to lose by backing down. And Weir gets very defensive on the subject, aha!

Where was I? Oh yes, when it gets heavy going, I've started on this, another Dinner Ladies adventure.

Happy day, everyone, no need to do all the things. Some is fine. None is okay too.