Spies and such

When I'm not playing solitaire,

I take a book down from the shelf...

What I'm reading now is The Spy by James Fenimore Cooper. The introduction by the author gives a fascinating insight into aspects of the Revolutionary War that I had never thought much about. Unlike Nathan Hale, Cooper's hero (the real spy, told about in the introduction) is not obliged to give his one life for his country; he survives the war, and refuses to accept a generous reward for his service as a spy.

I love people who turn down rewards. In A Distant Trumpet (one of Mable's and my favorite books), the hero turns down the Congressional Medal because a government representative had told him a lie, and the gov. refused to do what it had originally promised.

I like spy stories, and in my opinion the best ones were written by John LeCarre (Call for the Dead and The Spy Who Came In From the Cold), and Eric Ambler (A Coffin for Demetrios, Cause for Alarm, and Journey Into Fear). Ambler was a better writer, but I love George Smiley and Alec Leamas (by LeCarre), while I don't remember much about Ambler's stories and heroes.

Slip-sliding away

Well, children, the summer is halfway over, I think. Probably not much more than a month before the onset of the season of relief.

The leaves decay, the leaves decay and fall,

And after many a summer dies the swan...

(Tennyson)

Sour Grapes Department

I received an email today stating that Macy, my hypothetical next dog, has already been adopted. Just as well, I suppose. She's a great Pyrenees, probably about as tall, on her hind legs, as Michael Crichton, and no doubt she eats her weight every day in Iams and beefsteak, and cats when she can get them.

Strange Movie

Saw a pretty good movie on TV today, with Matthew McConaghey (sp?) and all those good old boys. Just about your classic Western. There was even the stock scene of men running on top of a moving train and shooting at each other. Lots of sand and outlaws, and MM with a big mustache and sweat-darkened hair looked like Johnny Mack Brown or one of those cowboy stars. The strange thing about the movie was the horses. They had knobby legs about 2 yards long, that looked like they had 3 joints, and little snake-shaped heads and short ears, and great big humps on their backs. But them cowpokes acted just like there wasn't nothing wrong. The name of the movie was "Sahara."

Book Club Day

Mary U. hosted the meeting at the Leeds Library, where we discussed The Tortilla Curtain by T.C. Boyle. We had 8 of 12 members in attendance, which is just about par for most of the meetings. I took the book I had ordered for her to Mable, and she let me keep it to read; it's A Distant Trumpet, one of Mable's best-loved books, and I'll take it back to her next meeting.

It was a nice day, but I wish it would rain some more.

This pretty quilt belongs to Jack, and I haven't had a chance to ask him where he got it. Pat and I think we recognize some of the fabrics, a lot of which are outing or cotton flannel, as in some of our old bathrobes. The quilting, and the bright green stripping, look like Mama, and the lining (natural muslin) and the narrow red binding look like me. But if Mama or one of us made it, I don't remember it.

This may be my next dog--will be, if the mechanics can be arranged. She's free, on the FCDF website, but the ad didn't say where she's located. Yesterday I sent an email to the address given, but haven't heard from them yet. She's a young dog, has been fixed and had all her shots and preventatives, and is crate and house trained--so said the ad.

Another Wednesday

Monty was half GSD and half collie. Buck was half GSD and half golden Lab.

One of these Wednesdays, I'm going to get me another dog, by gum.

That is, if I can find one as sensible and loving as these two.

Trash to Treasure

Yesterday, while "cleaning" a spot in the basement, I found these lengths of fabric, one to ten yards in each piece.

I washed them in cold water and the gentle cycle in the machine, and they came out fine. The tweed at bottom of the picture is wool from Scotland, only one yard, but wide enough to make a skirt or a vest. Yum. The houndstooth check is linen, and I can't think of anything I would ever make from it, but I love to look at the black and white pattern. There's enough of the dark green print and the red print to make summer dresses, if one wore dresses in the summer. And the print corduroy at top right will definitely appear next winter as a skirt or vest, or maybe a big shirt. The others are lining materials, but I may use the bronze organza for curtains because there's ten yards of it.

Here's a couple more that didn't make it into the picture. I don't know what the pink net-like fabric is.

*

That book, The Tortilla Curtain, made a lingering impression on me. I was already in favor of embracing our Mexican "visitors," but now, if I had the energy, I would demonstrate in favor of amnesty, or making all those border guards hand out green cards instead of carrying guns.

Which reminds me: I've got to print and mail the June newsletter. If any of you Bookmarkers haven't read the book, be assured it's really worth reading, whether you're for or against the illegals.

Sourwood Sites

The Northeast Corner

The Grand Chip Hotel

This is the chief residence hotel of the Sourwood chipmunks. They converted the stump of the hollow tree that blew down a couple of years ago. All the residents were inside for their noon siesta when this picture was shot. Even the Guard was not in sight--he usually sits up there on the terrace and looks out for trespassers.

Inside the Grand Chip

There are all kinds of lounges and suites down there. The opening at the top of the picture goes down to the small East Chapel, a sort of emergency sanctuary connected to the Atrium (below in the picture) by an arch. Passageways lead off in every direction, and no one knows how far they go, although there are exits and entrances all over the grounds.

The Lotah Garden

Another interesting feature of the Northeast Corner is the resting place of Misty (Lotah) Cat, who was fatally injured by a large vehicle. This occurred before The Grand Chip opened. The residents are not a bit disturbed by their proximity to a predator's grave and monument. In fact, they enjoy showing it to their friends.

Your tour guide has to go now and make the potato salad which was promised to this evening's Fourth of July Supper up on Hawk Hill. Ta!