Partial this, partial that

Nothing's really done. (Yes I could go on to a "meaningful" post about What It All Means and how patience and growth go hand in hand, but I'm cranky and sore. So there.)

I can't even finish a run -- I'm walking easily a third of each one, and plodding in between. I don't know why I bother, except if I keep doing it, I assume that "running" will return to my running.

Oh -- one thing that wasn't done is that the killer hens, here pictured (don't they look innocent?)

did not get a chance to off their sister chicken. They managed to de-flesh the back of her neck pretty horrifically, but just before I was deciding that I couldn't keep her in the isolation coop and was going to have to move her on to the crock pot, a friend told me about someone who wanted a pet chicken to hang with their solo hen. Yippee! One less death at my hands, and one less old hen to feed. Hooray for kind hearted folks.

I'm growing the world's smallest broccoli. In order to redeem these vegetables, I'm going to have to eat the leaves in stir fry and cut the stems up and use them to eat dip, or something. Too bad I haven't much of an appetite these days.


Except for kale, the one vegetable that is making me smile. I made a kale soufflé the other day, even though when I was trolling around the internet for recipes the only reference to "kale soufflé recipe" I saw suggested that it would taste foul and therefore no one would wish for such a thing. Well, for a first time ever making one of these puffy marvels, it tasted great. But I love me some Lacinato kale.


Something's been digging in my unfinished garden. I just figured out what to do about it tonight, but I'll do it tomorrow, after another round of digging, no doubt. It may be too late to save the six cabbage transplants.


And instead of finishing any knitted project, I just have four in various stages of completion, being ripped out and redone, or languishing. This doesn't, of course, count any projects half done packed away (you know who you are, cotton throw and sock pairs).

Blue thing is a walking hat, oatmeal and red disappearing into the couch is a top down raglan for Thing 3, the Kauni is awaiting a day I feel strong enough to rip out three rows to redo -- I may never finish the neckline, never, I tell you, and the thing masquerading as a roll of toilet paper is the secret so far design that I have to consult with my buddy about tomorrow.


Humph. I'd like to finish something but that would mean, you know, knitting.