but it's a gift, and I don't know if the intended recipient reads this blog or not. So....
Seriously, this patch had insanely huge leaves. Just look how it dwarfs my over-grown man-hand thumbs:
To give you a taste of the 'hood's flavor, here's a shot of one section of sidewalk:
In the knitting news, I've been working on a gift project. It's helped me recover some of my knitting mojo, which had taken a huge hit in the past two weeks. Since I've been working in an office, I've been catching up on my infectious diseases rota -- first it was a sinus thing, then it was my vertigo again, now I seem to have caught my mother's cholera. Look it up if you're curious. I warn you, it may be TMI. It is TMI, no 'may be' about it. Sorry. But, you know, optional. Google at your own risk.
Anyway, I didn't go to my second volunteer gig today (the archives) due to my extreme "tired of this shit"ness, and came home to do a quiet afternoon of rest. I sit for an hour, then needed to go to the store for Vitamin Water Zero, lemon flavor (seriously, my aunt said it and I thought she was delusional, but when you have the vertigo, drink one or two of these things -- it really makes the spinning stop) (in a good way). I am at the mall, buying fresh war paint at Sephora when I get a call from my mother that I have to take the Phew to baseball. Fine, says I, I can do that. I'll pick him up after I go to the grocery. I head that way and am making my way through the produce (lettuce and tomato for tacos) when I get another call. Nieceling's car has run out of gas; can I get the gas canister and take her some precious, precious hydrocarbons?
Long story made short: My quiet afternoon was not to be. I didn't get home until after 6. My brother got home and took his son to baseball, I rescued the girl and all was made right with the world. But I still haven't gotten to do as much knitting and sitting on my butt as I'd have liked. And tomorrow is a long shift at the temp office (8 hours; not a killer shift, but still. Long.)
At least there's nothing doing this weekend. Yet. God knows what car troubles we have in store for us. All we can do is pray they are not severe, are cheap to repair and quick to fix.
There's a saying to the effect that there are no athiests in foxholes, and I can only say that can also be applied to owners of old cars as well, particularly owners of old cars who live in large cities with crap bus service.