black saturday

What a depressing thought.... black Saturday! But it is dark and dreary here in Juneau. I'm hoping it will clear up some as I need to work outside this morning. I walked through the yard the other day, with tablet in hand, and made a list two sheets long of new and continuing projects and repair work that needed to be done from the harsh winter. Now, I just have to hire a staff of 14 to get it all done! :)

I love a good, strong cup of coffee in the morning. Don't give me weak coffee! And a bold taste, not something whimpy. Whole beans, not canned. My husband loves Starbucks Sumatra and that's what we buy but it can be any brand of good coffee for me. Tracy will give us Heritage coffee for different occasions and it's just as equally good, but you can't convince my hubby to mix and match all on his own. Funny man. I very seldom will drink more than a cup or cup and a half but sometimes, on an ugly day, will long for a second cup.

This is my favorite display of black. My first husband brought these face plates from an old door back from a hiking trip one day. He found them up in the mountains where I suspect there were some old mining shacks. I absolutely love them. They're so ornate. The picture on the left is of a magpie. Not only is this a pencil drawing in black and white, but magpies are a gorgeous black and white as well, with a longggg tail. We only see them in the late fall for a couple days and then they move on. The picture on the right Michelle (my son, Bucky's, fiancee) gave to me. It's of whales and I think are a perfect addition to my black display.

Have you ever gone clam diggin? As kids we did all the time. We had a cabin at the coast (Netarts, Oregon) where we spent our summers. We just had to walk across the street and down the bank with shovel and buckets in hand and dig to our heart's content. Course, I suspect.... as children we didn't think it was so much fun.... but more drudgery than anything! I can just hear us whine..... do we have to.....! But as adults we have the privilege of remaking our memories as the need arises..... I'd rather remember getting up at the crack of dawn, stumbling down the hill with sleep still in our eyes with shovel and bucket in our hands, wading knee deep in tide water digging for the elusive clam, and then hauling full buckets of steamers and quahaugs back UP the hill, scrubbing, and cleaning as a good memory rather than one I disliked. Anyway, THIS old wire basket was used for collecting clams. Another treasure I inherited when my parents passed away. We could easily set this on the beach and the tide would flow in and out of the holes and the bucket would stay put. Good memories.....

That's all the black I have to share today.