What a number. Oh, my goodness, what a number! I wish I could have photographed the digits when they paused at 100,000. Now that would be something to post about. The number 3 is just as good however. We have been inundated with thunderstorms and tornado alerts since last week. All that, plus hail and floods has been our lot for 3 nights running. It's raining n-o-w. It's practically pouring, and it's falling straight down onto the ground. Not at a slant, or a combo, but straight down. Our neighborhood looks like a tropical jungle if you squint at all the greenery; new types of weeds are thriving in places where the old, dead weeds used to be.
The number 37 is another great excuse to post around. I have mail numbers 36 and 37 on my desk, all ready and able to be mailed tomorrow--God willing and the creeks don't rise any higher.
Okay. The rain has turned to hail. Pea size balls of ice are bouncing off the pane before me; the screen is bouncing too, like invisible fairies are using it for a trampoline. I hope the seeds I planted don't get washed away. Fretting won't keep them rooted, so, moving on. 100,036 . . . Thank you. My first pomegranate has to hold its own or give way to its as yet unformed siblings. There are two. The tree they sprang from bowed down before the elements, while its sister bowed and stayed down.
So2. All the rain did not mess with my game. I can't even make lemonade since I like weather, and inclement is just another word for girl get busy. I took a page from Pamela's book of paper-love and finally made the cweet tutorial she offered. I'm in paper craft . . .
Have you ever played dodge with a gum ball size pieces of hail? Instinct is a funny thing. It insisted that I protect my phone from being pelted but not my self. Hmm. Preservation vs self-preservation? Will the machines really make over? Never mind. The stuff practically flew in the door when I opened it to get pictures for you.
What? You thought I didn't know when to come in from the hail? The front lawn is littered with a number of different sizes, and what fell from the heavens does not care who it hits. Gravity trumps and triumphs again! So I'm back. Changed my sandals for a pair of socks and tennis shoes. Thorlos work just fine. I think Atlanta won the game. I'm almost certain since satellite is not my friend when it rains.
I finally discovered a wonderful reason to use this paper. Big origami has no place in the home of She-who-hates-to-dust-now. But, since I am overly fond of the inside pages, I saved them for a really long time. Am glad I did.
See? Beautiful, beautiful pages.
Following Pamela's instructions, I cut once,
folded three times,
and . . .
Okay. Here's one I remembered to photograph. Could not find my jute! Green is good though. I relished stuffing little bits of goodness inside. Mine stuffing is not as unique as hers, but I tried. Try one. Go on. Make two. Three? No? A dozen! Fold on!
The back can only get better, but I finally found something to use those little pins for. Necessity is still the mother of good ideas. . One is a good number too. So, one down and more to go. Thanks again, Pamela!
100,036--it was a very good year.