Spike and Friends

I had to set the thermostat to turn the heat on early, otherwise we would never get out of bed. Our nights have been freezing and there is frost on the roof when we do stagger to the coffee machine in the morning. We had a full complement at Cafe Frida this morning for coffee. Mamadou turned on the outdoor heater and moved some tables into the sun for us .Bob kicked things off by playing Sinatra singing 'Young at Heart' for us on his phone. We were all a bit glum last week for a variety of reasons, but things seemed to be looking up for everyone today. 

Mamadou's wife Andrea came by with their son, Marcello, their daughter Stella and friends having livened things up considerably moments earlier. Marcello and Spike hit it off right away, Spike doing his best to climb through the hedge to give him a kiss.

On the way home we passed the City Hall where a Veterans' Day observance was going on. It was just about the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month and a small crowd stood watching the presentation of the flag by a group of veterans. I watched with mixed feelings...wondering if I even knew what the flag stands for anymore, if it worth the undeniable sacrifices made by so many, and if we have really learned anything. If we had, it would seem that we would have found a better way by now. It seems like we are now doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. 

I went to the one and only quilt store in town, replenished my supply of fabrics in a haphazard , but rather expensive way, and had an interesting conversation with the woman cutting fabric for me about making bags and placemats. It has a certain appeal. Smaller projects are certainly more quickly finished, and people can always use another bag....

I dropped off some granola for Peter to taste as he's contemplating making some himself and picked up a pair of pants from Dana that needed shortening. By the time all that was accomplished, it was too late to figure out how to organize my new stash of fabrics so I shortened the pants and gathered some nicely drying hydrangeas for my winter dried arrangement. 

We are trying to figure out what triggered John's allergic reaction, but may really never know. Most likely it is something in the garden and my leading candidate is the grevillea under the kitchen window. I get a definite contact dermatitis from it. It grows like a weed and John has always been the one to hack it back periodically, but we may have to get Pedro to do it in future. I wouldn't want this to happen to him or any of his guys....