Waylaid

Good morning, my friends. There was seismic activity at home while I was gone for my pedicure yesterday. Our television finally gave up the ghost after months of threatening. Mike had it held together with string and duct tape, but it all finally let loose yesterday. In fairness to the television, it was about 20 years old, and so we got some pretty good mileage out of it. This isn't our TV, but I feel a need to demonstrate somehow:

An important part of our daily routine is spending evenings in our comfortable basement room with our big screen television, and so this apostasy could not be allowed to stand. A trip into town was absolutely required before life on Earth could continue. The rest of the afternoon was taken up shopping, and we found a great deal. After dinner, we spent quite some time getting it all set up right, and then we relaxed, feeling satisfied with a successful hunt.

And all of that to say I don't have much to tell you about yesterday. Aside from profligate spending, the most exciting thing to happen was the arrival of the dahlia bulbs I ordered last fall. I was a little surprised at how small they are in comparison to, say, peony tubers. They arrived in a quart-sized plastic bag packed in peet moss. They also sent little identifying tags...much appreciated. 

These are the ones I ordered, and these are some pictures recycled from when I visited the dahlia festival with Mae last year. This first one was Mike's pick:

I may have misidentified this one when I originally edited the picture. I believe it is actually called "Bumble Rumble."

Finally, this one.

Mike spent half his summer last year squirrel-proofing our greenhouse. This mean digging a narrow trench all around the bottom of the greenhouse, burying fencing and then bending it over to lie flat against the ground, covering it in dirt, and then covering it over with a rock border. It was a lot of hard and hot work. When he was finished, it looked like this:

I've always wanted some dahlias in our garden, but we've had a hard time getting them to go. I first had them planted in our vegetable garden, but the gophers ate all the bulbs. So then, I tried planting them in whiskey barrels. Unfortunately the whiskey barrels didn't drain well. They filled up with water and rotted the bulbs. I'm not inclined to dig them up each winter, and so we went with the idea Erik and Mae have, which is to plant them in pots that can be moved inside during the winter. When I saw this greenhouse border, we decided together that we could fit four pots of dahlias on the sunny side you see here. Now, we have the pots, the potting soil, and the bulbs. We just need some decent get-out-and-work-in-the-yard weather. Surely it will come someday soon.

We're into typical spring weather for Oregon...a little of everything in a single day. We drove into town in the pouring rain and hail yesterday. When we got home, the sun was shining, which made it very convenient for unpacking and moving the new television into the house. Smitty enjoyed his afternoon spot in the sunshine.

As you've probably gathered, it was a no-sewing day, and so I have nothing else to show you. I'll be leaving in about an hour to have breakfast with Sue. We had in mind to walk afterward, but I'm afraid the weather is not going to cooperate. I'm not up for walking in the rain. There was a time when Sue and I would walk rain or shine. I'm getting too old and cranky for that now. Sue is older than I am, but not as cranky. She still walks rain or shine. 

So this has to be a quick post. Maybe I'll have some sewing for you tomorrow. After breakfast, I need to pick up a couple of items we missed at the grocery store, and then I need to do the things I was supposed to do yesterday. And then I'll have some time for sewing. Have you ever noticed how life seems to be a series of obstacles keeping you from your sewing room? See "cranky," above.

Okay, if I hurry, there's still a little bit of time for slow-stitching before I leave. That's where I'm headed next.