Murphy

graphic courtesy of www.kohls.com

Dontcha love when you've had your eye on a pair of shoes for a while, you finally find a way to purchase them, you put them on right away to break them in (say, at work), and discover they make a borderline embarassing noise when you walk.....

I've been dying for a new pair of dress sneaks, like Keds but for people who wear more than a frickin' A width. Something to wear with jeans or capris--I can get away with being way casual at my work, and I've always been a comfort over fashion kind of gal anyway.

So today I had to dress up because Google was in town (yes, THAT Google!), and my pantyhose self-destructed upon dressing this morning, so I threw on my brown Skecher heels bare-legged and raced to work. Didn't have time to buy fresh hose on the way in. However there's no full-length mirror in my house, so it wasn't until I got to work and caught a glimpse of myself in the window that I noticed just how much those Skechers destroyed an otherwise classy outfit. Great, an entire day of compounded self-image issues!

Not if I can help it. Since my need to impress people ended at lunchtime, I scooted over to Kohl's on my break and hunted for something in the footwear department that wouldn't have me feeling like crap about myself the rest of the day. Yes folks, sometimes stuff like this is necessary. I don't do it often, but we're close to payday, and today I got lucky and found the dress sneaks that I've had my eye on since Spring first poked its green head up around here, which is oh, I don't know, mid-February. They're perfect for days when I don't feel like wearing my platforms with my capris.

I get back to work, change shoes, and go back to plunking away at Mods. Get up later for a pee break and notice it immediately. Plop, plop, plop, plop....what the hell is that? I check the soles back at my desk, but there's no loose spots; everything seems intact. Must be my orthotics. I take them out, work some more. Get up for a Coke break...plop, plop, plop, plop......sonofa...the damn things announce me as I'm coming down the hall. I think fast for a one-liner in case anybody comments, egotist that I am ("hey, I'm no shrinking violet, you're just jealous because your shoes don't talk."). Upon returning to my desk, I investigate further, and I'm pretty sure that if I wear socks and/or break the canvas in further, that sound should dissipate. It's the snap of new canvas at the toe. Still, while I'm more comfortable wearing them the rest of the day, their usefulness with regard to remedying the original issue has definitely been called into question.

Y'all check out the lace patterns on www.knitpicks.com? I'm looking forward to getting done with the baby stuff; definitely ready to finish the SSS and try my hand at some feather and fan.

Superfluous vent

Knowing's half the battle, right?

Given: Melanie watches too much TV

Thought I'd get that out of the way. Thus it stands to reason that Melanie pays too much attention to what goes on on TV too. Like the networks unveiling their fall schedules this week. Who pays attention to that besides teenagers and closet cases? Ah well...

Given how terrific Grey's Anatomy was last night, I was thinking how I'd like to get into watching it again. I've only seen like, half a handful of episodes since it started this year, because of one or another distractions and then later in the season, Big Love on HBO (strange, neat character drama about polygamists). But last night's finale, even with me flipping back and forth to catch Everwood (which'll be the subject of a separate vent in a sec), was rather exquisite TV, full of emotion, nicely written. Big Love's finishing up soon and will go away for a while, so I'll have my 10 o'clock block on Sunday free.

As quickly as I was able to think that, they put out the ABC schedule this morning with the announcement that they're moving Grey's in the fall to, you guessed it, Thursdays at 9. Thursdays at 9, I'm usually driving across the street to hang with my bitches, or heading home from knitting, which is about a 20-minute trip. No biggie, you'd think, that's why God invented VCRs. Except NBC released their schedule Monday with the announcement that Studio 60, the new drama with Matthew Perry and Bradley (sigh!) Whitford would be shown in the fall, yup, say it with me, Thursdays at 9!

shit.

And don't get me started about the rumor Michael Ausiello was kind enough to impart on we Everwood fans to soften the blow: that he has it from 2 reliable sources that the CW isn't planning to carry Everwood over in the fall. They're renewing the dead horse 7th Heaven to give themselves a good start, but 86ing the best damn family drama on television in the process. Can we say, cutting off nose to spite face? That kind of stuff makes me crazy, like when CBS 86d Joan of Arcadia, but brought Ghost Whisperer in the next year. Joan of Arcadia had a phenomenal ensemble cast, but in the world of money and ratings, it gets bagged in favor of Jennifer Love Hewitt's face.

So mind's wandering a bit today, if you haven't noticed. And I've certainly punctuated to my handful of readers the distinct lack of life I currently have. Think the coffee finally kicked in though.

If it's Tuesday, this must be Belgium!

Isn't that a line from a movie?

Had a bird glance off the hood of the car as I was hauling up the ramp to 95 today. I don't think I obliterated the little dude, but he'd obviously taken lessons at the Woodstock School of Flying, hence today's graphic (courtesy of www.snoopy.com).

I think it's gonna be one of those "ain't enough coffee on the planet" days. Where little things frustrate me. Like my hair looks good today, which oughta be a good thing, but when you're giving serious thought to taking off another couple of inches because it NEVER looks good anymore, then having it suddenly cooperate is quite disconcerting. I've discovered that there's a direct corellation between my level of depression and my desire to cut my hair, so I've been careful to wait out my blues...but I'm pretty sure this weekend I'm going to get the layers taken out, so to have them fall all pretty along my shoulders this morning is a little exasperating.

The blues are getting better, at least. The grief is past, and summer's coming. Memorial Day weekend will be busy with family up in SC so there's that to look forward to...should be some family drama with Kara's baby shower and Grandma fresh from the hospital (hopefully), but they live in a really pretty neighborhood, in a corner lot, where the tall pine trees shut out the traffic sounds from the main road. You can sit in their side yard where the sturdy wooden outdoor furniture is, reading or knitting, and hear nothing but nature and the occasional neighborhood dog. Their front yard is great for grounding; I sit with my back against one of their pine trees and just listen, down deep. Family drama be damned, I'm looking forward to getting up there!

Finished the 2nd baby Ugg last night and knit another mitten. I must've been stalling on the baby blanket, but I definitely don't want to be rushing the blanket at the end, so I'll put in time on that for most of this week. Only little stuff left is one mitten and then 2 cords to attach to 'em. Say it with me, Melanie: it's too late to start anything else new.

Probably need to tape that one to my forehead. In backwards writing so I can see it in the mirror. And write it on the walls of my house for good measure.

Just some thoughts...

I wrote a letter to the editor of the Times-Union expressing my disappointment over Much Ado about Books this past weekend. The children's section was paltry and consisted of way too many folks trying to sell you stuff and not enough people reading, doing fingerplays, engaging kids. But the reason I wrote was because the hotel where they held it had ballrooms on multiple floors and no maps displayed, and you could just tell the old farts were having a time of it. Which got me thinking...radical thought coming, watch out now...why didn't they hold it in the Main Library?! The ground floor of that sucker is an immense hallway with ballroom upon ballroom for the panel discussions. Better yet, weather permitting, they could set up the children's stuff right in the children's room off that terrific patio on what, the third floor. There's that whole garage for parking next door, and it's centrally located. It's probably not equipped (too small) to handle the potential population that shows for Much Ado, but I can't help thinking that that's also why they stagger the panel discussions, so you never have an hysterical amount of people in the main areas at any one time. If they just planned logistics a bit better, staggered the panels to end 15 minutes apart maybe, instead of all at one time per block, then downstairs at the Main Library would have potential. And show the donators and taxpayers where their money's going.

I think it was the movie "Never Been Kissed..." Drew Barrymore and Molly Shannon having lunch at work, near the beginning of the movie, and a rather large female coworker sits down with them, toting 3, count them 3! Budget Gourmets stacked one on top of the other for her lunch. It's worth quite a chuckle. Thing is, anybody ever eat some of them low-cal meals? We've hit desperation food time here at Chez Johnson, so I brought a Lean Cuisine to work. Not only was it devoid of flavor, but by 2:00, I was rooting through my desk drawer for the truly desperate pickins', oatmeal, so that I could make it through the rest of the afternoon without a hunger headache and a bitchy demeanor.

Grandma's on the mend. Didn't get a whole lot of knitting done this weekend; gotta concentrate on the 2nd baby Ugg and the baby blanket for next weekend, ACK!

Such coordination

Graphic courtesy of http://www.whales.org.au.
If only I could be that graceful.

When you're big, the last thing you want to do is draw attention to yourself. ANY attention to yourself. You wear nondescript colors in your wardrobe, unless you have enough pride to override the flab. You try not to be loud. You practice invisibility, camouflage. If you're forced into public situations with strangers, you turn on the charm, smile more—I'm pretty, look at my face, not my bod.

And then you trip over boxes.

Worked one of the H Magazine tables last night at "Girl's Night Out," one of those shindigs where you get free samples, sign up for drawings, and everyone tries to sell you cosmetics or get you to host a party in your home.

Mom was on the other end of the food court working the silent auction, and my size 11s got caught on one of the boxes behind the table I was working. It was like my shoes were suddenly tied together; my attempts to extricate myself from the tangle of box and magazines nearby, caused me to go down hard, turning an ankle and bruising a knee. In an instant, I was up, straightening stuff out, mopping up the spilled soda that had tumbled off the table, waving off the concerned looks of the women around me asking if I was ok (I'm fine, no problem, next show's at 10, enjoy the veal), but my face must've given away how humiliated I felt. I was suddenly immensely tired and couldn't wait to get outta there.

Luckily I didn't really hurt myself, it appears; left ankle has soreness when I turn it certain ways, but I can walk fine, so I'm trying not to feed my self-pity by making it hurt. It was just a blunt reminder of how desperately tired I am of being this big, how I ache to be healthier, yet let week after week go by without exercise and with crappy nutrition. I'm so tired of loving myself on the inside and loathing myself on the outside. Whine, whine, whine. 'Nuf said.

Knit up to the instep on the 2nd baby Ugg last night before my exercise in flexibility and grace.

Prayers to my grandmother-in-law, please! She went in for emergency gall bladder surgery last night; she's 85 with a host of other health issues, so this will definitely lay her flat for a while.

Happy friggin' Friday.

At least I don't work for AOL

Now, explain to me how we can have an 800-person call center right here in town, and every time we call AOL for something, it sounds like we get rerouted to New Delhi.

Guess it's immaterial now; the center shut its doors yesterday. 800+ people with some form of call center experience looking for work in Jacksonville today. Terrific. Les's main experience is call center work. Another nail in the Jacksonville coffin in my book. Like it needs nails; I've never liked living here. I love my friends and I've made a life here, but I couldn't be more sick of Florida if it were July right now and my hair were 6 inches longer. That probably doesn't make sense...I'm thinking of trimming my hair some more, and I can't stand Florida's heat. I know it won't be a helluva lot different climate-wise in Columbia, SC, but a girl's gotta dream.

Grieving for Neil has definitely turned into pre-grieving for Nanie. I've gotta start walking or something, get my mind off my mind. Not just walking, working on the apartment some more would help. When I think too much about the future, it means I'm not happy in my present. If I'm going to tough it out 1 more year here, then some attitude adjustment and reorganization need to occur, or I'll just be a sad sack.

Finished 2nd mitten, started 2nd baby Ugg, and sewed the crotch on my fave pants last night, busy little bee that I was. Feels like Thursday today, wish it was.

A new day

More whales courtesy of http://www.nmfs.noaa.gov/pr/

"But things always look better in the morning..."
~ To Kill A Mockingbird

Feeling better. Much, I think. Which is odd, because the sky is still gloomy from last night's rains and we're out of money again. Lord knows we need the rain; they just declared a state of emergency down by New Smyrna Beach because of the forest fires.

Tonight I'll continue on the mitten I started last night, start the other baby Ugg, and work the baby blanket. I can feel myself winding down on baby stuff; will probably do one other set of mittens and maybe a bib too, but I'm definitely ready to turn my attention back to knitting for me. That new issue of Interweave coming out mid-May looks orgasmic!

There's a bunch of new TV tonight and a load of laundry to do. Normalcy, the mundaneness of life helps; but I definitely don't feel as raw as I did last night. Must've turned a corner.

Therapy

My apologies to my select few readers; this post is going to be a little dark. I have to write because when you live in an apartment, you can't scream for no reason, and when you're married, you can't go for a drive on a whim in the middle of the night.

Background: When I graduated college and began looking for solutions to my depression, I made the decision that I was going to live an honest life. I was raised by secret keepers. Whether it was a poor grade, a broken plate, or a schoolyard fight, secrets were kept, mainly from my father, whose tendency was to explode verbally with anger and beratement. I wasn't going to have that in my life outside of them, and I made it clear by action. When Les moved in with me, I called my family to tell them that night, even though I lived 5 hours away and could easily have kept it to myself and eased them into it. Dad didn't speak to me for the better part of a year, but at least I wasn't living a lie.

Present: I've mentioned that my Uncle Neil just passed away, Dad's 2nd brother. Nanie, Dad's mom, is 94 years old; she lives in a nursing home (one of the few good ones left, run by the Sisters of St. Thomas in Norwalk, CT). She's winding down, bless her heart; running at about 40% , I 'd say, as far as cognitive function and long-term memory goes. I'd initially heard that they weren't going to tell Nanie that Uncle Neil had passed, and I thought, well, good. This is one instance where I'd definitely agree with keeping the truth from someone. I can't imagine a grief worse than losing a child, and when you're infirm and have enough trouble remembering that you have 4 kids, what good can come from that honesty? She's obviously a strong lady, comes from good Irish stock; her own mother lived to be 96. But that's a grief, in my opinion, that she could be spared. Worst case scenario, she recognizes what's going on and must bear that grief, of losing a son. Best case scenario sucks too; I mean, what if it's an open casket at the wake--which is still a big fave among the Catholics--and she's confused into thinking she's at Popie's funeral. She gets to relive that grief all over again, for a husband who's been gone for 26 years now. I just have trouble seeing the point.

Catalyst: Mom calls to tell me...no wait, she thought I'd be happy to know that Dad visited Nanie today, and the brothers had made the decision to tell Nanie about Neil. They're getting her an early viewing at the wake, so she won't be confused by all the people. Well, that's fine, that's caring certainly; I know Dan, Dad, and Tom mean well and will circle the wagons around her like pros. But the way Mom said it, you could tell she thought that my original opinion would've been honesty, so I should be relieved by this turn of events. Good thing we were talking between commercials, because the rage hit my throat almost before I hung up the phone. I had a good cry, and wished I could be up in Norwalk, at Notre Dame, in Nanie's room, in bed with her, cradling her in my arms and telling her stories to remind her about how she would braid my hair when I was little and how she doted on me, because while she loved her boys, she'd always wanted a girl too, to name Mary Jane and braid her long hair.

So I'll ache a little longer, it appears. And maybe I won't get up there before she takes her final rest, but I think I have to try. Apparently she didn't take a fall recently, rather she took her sweet time waking up recently, which may have been a mini-stroke. Well, good, I said, she and Dad can compare notes on TIAs.

Finished my 2nd baby hat tonight, started another mitten. I believe it's time to polish off the Haagen-Daz now.

Turning points

I love whales. That's the only reason for this graphic. I think they're pretty f*cking exquisite creatures. This one's courtesy of http://www.scu.edu.au/news/images/whale%20breach%20web.jpg.

For once, my brain's a little clearer on a Monday. A weekend of rest, some grieving, some life-and-death reconciling, a little beer, a little knitting, and I'm getting back on track.

I was a little off on some of my obit stuff for Uncle Neil, but the meat of it is correct. Don't sweat the mention of life-and-death reconciling, all that means is wrapping my mind around the idea of never seeing him again. It's kind of a bummer. They'll put him in the ground on Wednesday; somebody in the family scraped up the dough for a traditional Catholic wake and funeral. I don't know if they've told Nanie; given this family's penchant for keeping things secret for a person's own good, I wouldn't put it past them...and though I loathe that level of dishonesty, if her senility has hit a significant level, I'm pretty sure the knowledge of losing a son would do more harm than good, so I'm not sure I'd disagree with them if they did keep it from her. It's a toughie, that's for sure. I still ache to be there this week, to hug some family members, and to see Neil to his next phase, but I'll have to content myself with lighting candles and meditation here at home. Say some prayers for my dad if you get a chance; this trip is the type of thing to give his ulcer a workout, and the level of drinking that occurs at an Irish funeral certainly won't help.

Worked on the baby blanket a bit this weekend, did some reading. Feels like the 2nd baby hat is taking forever, but I know once I get it on the double points, it'll be finished in an evening, so I'll probably focus on that tonight.

I'm pretty sure I've come to my senses again unfortunately, on the Avon walk. Not this year. Five months just ain't enough time to prepare, not as big as I am. I'm thinking of mailing them back the fundraising stuff, so that I'll stop flip-flopping about it. I've got work to do, but it needs to be for me. We'll see. Feels like the first time in what, a month and a half, that my energy is reaching normal levels again. Relief, relief, relief. Time to do something with it.

A Crossing

When you come from a family as large as mine, it's easy to lose touch with folks. The Internet's been great for keeping track of the extensions upon extensions of family that are the result of my mom's 9 brothers and sisters, but Dad's family is a little trickier. They're not the greatest communicators (ok, that's way sugarcoating it; have a phone conversation with my dad sometime and you'll see what I mean...it's like pulling teeth and very formal), so more effort is required, and unfortunately stuff slips through the cracks. If a family member decides to try and live their retirement as an alcoholic, there's only so much you can do to keep tabs on them; and you leave the rest to prayer. The Goddess came and took my Uncle Neil this week. My mind's been full of childhood memories since finding out, so here's a little vent.

Cornelius J. Lyons was born approximately 70 years ago to the late Cornelius J. Lyons and the still-kicking Mildred Grace Lyons of Norwalk, Connecticut. A taciturn man and devout Catholic in his youth, Neil owned an automotive transmission shop in Norwalk for many years. He married Jill (last name unknown) and produced 5 beautiful children: Colleen, Neil Jr., Lynda, Kelly, and Allyson, only to have Jill succumb to cancer around 1975 (time approximate, but I wasn't more than 6). He married Patricia Hicks (that last name's a guess, it's been a while) and continued to run his automotive shop while raising his children in a fairly bucolic lifestyle on a mini-farm in Redding, Connecticut. His children grown, retirement took he and Pat to Bonita Springs, Florida, where unfortunately the marriage dissolved. He moved back to Connecticut, where the difficulties of his life appear to have caught up with him. He finally moved to Danbury, where he suffered a recent fall, which lead to the discovery of internal bleeding and multiple cancers. He was placed in a drug-induced coma and never awoke.

Sounds like a downer, I know, but all I've been thinking about is sweet memories of growing up in Connecticut. We lived 40 minutes from Redding, an hour from Norwalk, so we visited Dad's side of the family pretty frequently. Nanie and Dad's older brother Dan's family lived in Norwalk, 4 cousins on that side + Neil's 5. Neil's place in Redding was really pretty; big Colonial house, small barn/carport with fenced corral for cows and pigs, small backyard for running around. I learned the small jolt that an electric fence gives if you touch it. Cyril and I rolled around with their dog, Precious, so much one day that we both went home with allergic reactions around our eyes. We saw a nest of tiny baby rats. The pigs were really cute and clean, and the cow ate something called Crunchy 16—Dad loved the name of that stuff. Nanie and I were penpals back then. The air's cleaner up there.

I ache that I can't go up for the funeral, and so I write. We just don't have any savings; even if it had happened last week when we were rolling in my quarterly bonus and the tax return, it wouldn't have been realistic. I pray we find a way for me to go up there when Nanie passes. She's pushing 95 and just took a fall too—I've reconciled I think, with the fact that seeing her in 2002 was the last time; but saying goodbye is quite another matter.

It's been probably 15 years since I saw Uncle Neil, I think I was in college. His hair had gone entirely white, and he looked the most like Popie in the face. All the Lyons men are quiet guys who keep their cards close to their chests. As they age, the eldest, Dan and the youngest, Tom, have suffered significant hearing loss so it seems more appropriate for them somehow, that element of taciturn alertness. Laugh-out-loud funny to think of my dad as the most gregarious of the four, but you really have to have grown up with him to appreciate the humor—the man has mellowed markedly since we kids all moved out. He listens more carefully, he's more open to suggestions, and while positive emotion still baffles him, he's less likely to shut down if presented with it.

What am I getting at? I think it's that even though we all knew Neil's lifestyle was going to shorten his life, I just didn't expect him to pass away. This sounds awful, but Dad's supposed to go first. I'll never be prepared for when it happens, but the plain fact is that the man is a medical miracle walking around and going to work everyday. His carotid artery is entirely blocked on one side. Normally the blood in your body goes up one side of the carotid, feeds the brain, and goes down the other side back into the body. He's got one side doing the work of both, which means a life of medications and mini-strokes. His doctors say they can't go in and fix it, because a) they're able to control the condition with medication, and b) they'd most likely lose him on the table anyway if they did go in. So he gets up and goes to work everyday, mows the lawn on the weekends, and monitors his BP and sits nice and still when a transient ischemic attack (TIA) hits. What else can you do, ya know? He'd balk at someone else doing the lawn, and besides, it's good for his spirits and his health outside of that little condition.

And this is outside of the 24-year-old Dacron graft holding his aorta together. You know the thing that killed John Ritter? Dad had that back in 1982. It's f*ing remarkable that he's with us today...and Meara for that matter, she was born in 1983.

So today's my Beltane. The sun's at 15 degrees Taurus. I'll go outside tonight and light tealights to lives gone and lives to come and meditate and move on. Because there's still so much left to this year, sortings and packings and plannings and yes, maybe even baby making by Christmastime. My life is full to bursting, and I'm terribly grateful.

::grumble, grumble::

Things are rubbing me the wrong way today.

First, my insurance company was kind enough to send a memo on April 28, stating that as of May 1, one of my generic medications would be increased in price. The memo was kind enough to suggest Prozac as a possible alternative med. That really pissed me off, and I've written my insurance company a scathing letter to let them know. I tried Prozac for about a year, in 1996, and quite literally went out of my mind on the stuff. That year almost beats my college years for pain spent in depression, I was a wreck; I couldn't sit still, pulled at my hair, banged my head with my hands, and bruised myself constantly on Prozac. I talked to myself so much, my employees couldn't take me seriously. For them to nonchalantly suggest that Prozac is an alternative for me was galling, and I let 'em have it.

Then I just did a site for an astrology and psychic shop in LA. Fairly harmless shop, they offer new age products like Buddha figures and candles, as well as provide psychic readings and yoga classes. In our notes, it showed that the first designer passed on the site because they disagreed with the content. I'd forgotten we do that; management offered a while back that if there's a particular site that you know you can't give your best to, because you disagree with its content, then you can ask for it to be assigned to someone else, no harm, no foul. I've never had to exercise it because, as a Unitarian, I really have no problem doing the occasional church or ministry site; to each their own. To read that someone has a problem with stuff I believe in, though, sets me on edge. I take pride in my religious decisions in my life, and hate the feeling that I have to hide them to make others comfortable. People can spout about Jesus in this country til the cows come home, but bring up Gaia and they shrink into their Bibles. I'm not being fair; for all I know, the person may believe in chiropractic over Reiki and that was what made them ask for another site. Still, it grinds me.

Beltane looming

(graphic courtesy of http://www.crystalinks.com/maypole.html)

Where HAS the time gone? Seems like yesterday I was putting together the material for the Ostara class. I blink and this coming Monday is May Day.

I follow a calendar of astrology and convenience so I'll probably be celebrating Beltane on Cinco de Mayo this year, since a) the sun enters 15 degrees Taurus that day, and b) it's just easier to perform rituals on a Friday than a Monday. Though Beltane's supposed to be more of a dawn or daytime ritual than night, so with them both work days, it's kind of a crap shoot.

Given that Beltane is a fertility festival, Les probably won't come within 3 feet of me for the next week, but I'm going to try to at least get him out for a walk this weekend--maybe we can hit one of the parks. The church and CUUPs aren't doing anything for Beltane this year; folks are too busy, so no maypole, but I'm still going to try and do a ritual outdoors somewhere. Apartment living sucks for this sort of thing; I've done rituals on my porch before, but it's really cramped, you're stuck wearing clothes, and you feel like you're being watched. For something like Beltane, when you're truly celebrating spring and the earth in all its glory, you want to spread your arms, run, jump, shout, roll in the grass, smell the leaves. I'm definitely going to a park. Still gotta wear clothes, but at least I can spread out and revel in the green.

Jacksonville's terrific, park-wise; I was able to perform my initiation ritual at one in the Southside with almost no interruptions or distractions. Next year, goddess willing, we'll be moving right around Beltane (OUT of FLORIDA!!!), so there won't be time to observe, so this year I'm gonna make it count.

Just another manic Thursday...

Let's see...

Jordan's getting his appetite back.
I'm getting my energy back.
Linus (www.snoopy.com) is just here because he reminds me of Les.

I finished the umbilical cord hat (adorable!), and I think I like I-cord; it's kinda nifty! Knitted one of those little mittens, and am planning to start another pair of booties, because I know I'll be lucky if that dress is done by the time Kylie makes her appearance, and I want to have a bunch of stuff done for the shower at the end of next month. Gonna try for 2 pairs of booties, 2 pairs of mittens, 2 hats, and the blanket for the shower. At present, that goal's still doable; those mittens take like, no time; just hard working with size 3s. I got a new needle holder at JoAnn's that fits almost all my supplies, which is sweet, because I was keeping stuff in 2 or 3 places before, which is precarious when you live in an overflowing apartment. Lay something down and if the apartment doesn't eat it, one of the cats will.

Knitting bitches tonight!!! I haven't been in, like a month; car trouble, gas prices, and health stuff have kept me away :( Looking forward to it!

Why?

(graphic courtesy of http://www.oaklandzoo.org/atoz/azemu.html)

So I've been building and editing websites for more than 6 years now, so I've gotten pretty used to the level of crap that America's willing to sell online. There's lots of normal sites out there, but there's also the folks who sell Herbalife, breed rabbits, and detail cars all in one shop. Never mind that our designers rarely look beyond their noses if something doesn't sound right; one of my coworkers got a site yesterday for a company that catered to senior citizens and the baby bomber generation. ::sigh::

I thought I'd heard it all, but I just got a site that sells health care products made from emu oil, and all I can say is WTF. I mean, my god, what's the story on this? Who was the first person to farm emus and think, "damn, they were sweaty today, but hey, my skin's never looked better!" How exactly do you squeeze an emu? They're smaller than ostriches, but still, it's not like squeezing a parakeet, I figure. Yes, I know I need help; I just had an Ally McBeal moment in my head, of trying to extract parakeet oil: "ah, shit! Crushed another one. Hey Jack, can you hand me that strainer?" I must be feeling better finally.

One of our cats is sick, so please send positive energy our way. Jordan and Figaro both had fleas recently, and when we noticed Jordan had lost weight, we thought that was the cause and took him to the vet. Now we're thinking the weight loss is more serious. We took care of the fleas and updated his shots, but he's still not eating and he's down to 9 lbs. For him, that's low. Apparently feline anorexia is rather common; cats stop eating for one reason or another and need to be trained to eat all over again. He stares at his food, thinks about it, and walks away. I'm really scared; Jordan's my first pet ever (we didn't have pets growing up), so he's very precious to me.

Damn ache came back. Not the candida aches, the baby ache. My friend Steve has his son here (at work) today. Lukas is 18+ months old, sandy brown hair, brown eyes, shy face. Those eyes just shot an arrow through my heart. I joked that thanks to him, I'd be hearing this ticking in my head the rest of the day, but was surprised to find that after they left my cube, I had to take a second because the beauty of that little boy was still hanging around my heart and bringing tears to my eyes. I guess maybe it's more acute because a) I'm hormonal, and b) one of my pseudo-kids is sick, possibly starving. Jordan's appointment is at 4 today. It can't come fast enough.

Goddess...a little help here...

Patience.
Patience.
Patience.
And did I mention, patience?
Remember, you don't want to start trying to get pregnant until after the walk in October.
And Les being employed would help too.
And you need a new computer first, so that you can work from home.
And...

I don't want to whine. I really don't. But I'm aching a little right now. Just found out one of my cousins is pregnant again. Now granted, I have so many cousins on my mom's side, it's a wonder that that's not a permanent sitch; all the ones around my age have performed the requisite spawning of the herd in the last couple of years. I guess I relate to this cuz a little better; she and the hubby spent some time together before trying, and she's a bit of a granola. For some reason, this is hitting me harder than my sis-in-law Kara's impending mommyhood, probably because I don't envy her sitch one iota. She's not married, there's zero plans toward that (that we know of), and her partner is financially irresponsible and an alcoholic in training. She's got her work cut out for her. But it's all moot, because the responsible part of me doesn't want to get pregnant (as I've said, multiple times) until a) Les is employed, b) I'm in a little better shape, and c) we have a new computer at home so I can work from there. These are all things that can and will happen between now and the end of the year, in all likelihood, so I just need to relax and deal.

Tell that to my biological clock.

Where the hell'd April go?

I'm not complaining, mind you. I tend to have off months; for me, February, April, and July just don't fit as well as the rest for some reason. I'm used to it. Still, as we trudge on toward summer, Avon walk, and other things I'm not yet prepared for, it's enough to make a girl go ACK!

Well, there's a nice thing about April, I guess. The Annual Butterfly Festival is this coming weekend at Tree Hill Nature Center here in Jax. (graphic courtesy of http://www.treehill.org/) Lived in this area 10+ years now, and never been to Tree Hill; probably can't drag Les out for it, but maybe some of the knitting gang will be game. I think Green Lynn and Izzy handed out info for Riverkeepers there last year.

Granted, I couldn't quite help the last two weeks of inactivity. My health sitch gave me all the energy of a wrung-out dishrag. I mean, you know something's wrong when you're too tired to knit! I seem to be on an upswing, but I'm still getting tired easily, which sucks, because when you're lazy to begin with, it's harder to distinguish feeling better from feeling normal. Not sure that makes sense, but that's how it feels. We went to the flicks on Saturday (Ice Age 2, very sweet!) and then took in some shopping, and by the time we got home, I was all in, as the Southerners say. Ticks me off when the most basic shit tuckers me out. I don't need any help feeling out of shape; my big belly does that for me.

Anyway, enough about that...making progress on the umbilical cord hat for Kylie. I'll probably plow through that until it's done. It's my first time trying I-cord, so that should be interesting. I'm giving myself til her birth on the dress, I'm 2/3rd done with the blanket, and I still want to do a pair or three of those little mittens they wear so they don't scratch their faces. And I bought point protectors for the SSS, just for grins.

Happy Monday!

I will not go quietly...

(graphic courtesy of http://www.speedysigns.com/decals/graphic_decal_14180.htm)

Removing "bad" carbs from your diet is an interesting trick. Screw that line; it completely blows. You hem and haw, and rationalize. And I've gotten pretty damn used to the "bad" carbs: I love me some bread with my pasta, some potatoes with my fries, some corn with my corn chips. I bypassed somebody's birthday cake at work the other day, then went home and hoovered a bowl of popcorn. The carb crave becomes physical. Like it was so hard to tell why I was fatigued to my very bones the next day, so bad that I actually played hookey from work. Another example is eating a bowl of Cheerios because I convinced myself that that's better for me than picking at a bowl of red beans and rice, because I'm so unused to the blandness of that type of dish that it'd take a gigantic effort to get excited about it, and then I'd probably have eaten the Cheerios anyway. Yeah, I know, discover spices. Not the same.

The thing I have to reconcile myself with, is that I have to get used to bland for a while. Not forever, but the fact is that yeast feeds on sugar, period. From junk food to simple carbs to OJ and even Splenda™, I have to limit my intake if I ever want to get my system back in check. I'm going to be bored to death with the blandness, but the upshot is I'll start feeling better. That's worth the effort; just gotta keep reminding myself. And reminding myself. And reminding myself. Bought root beer earlier without even thinking, it was this automatic response.

I found several books at the library that hopefully are on the shelves and can assist in this transformation; used to own a Candida guidebook, but it seems to have gotten sucked into the fourth dimension apartment vacuum.

Today's the first day in two weeks that my limbs aren't throbbing; instead my back is in spasm. I'll take it. I was too drained to even knit yesterday...woke up to call in, slept til noon, napped from 3 to 7:30, in bed by 11. Yuck! I'm surprised I'm even feeling better, since dessert last night was 2 ice cream sandwiches. Ok, I'm through whining about this. Yeah, right.

I lied, I did do a couple of rows of the baby dress that's probably too complex for me to be attempting for the shower. So screw it, I'll save it for when the kid's born in July and let up on myself.

Gotta go refill my water. yay.

Quickie

Looks like they're having an outage at Blogger in about 20 minutes, so this one's quick...

Pilates.

Neat concept.

Sat down and really watched the 20-minute workout the other day. Incorporated just one of the moves into my yoga stretching that night and noticed something the next day. I think they call it posture.

So I played the Step-by-Step basics disc last night and followed along best I could. I've got too much body for some of the moves. They emphasize grabbing your ankles for support because your knees are the weakest joints below the waist, but that's laughable to a big girl. And while that spine massage move is a blast, I can't begin to think about rolling back up from it so I just kind of roll back and then giggle and sigh.

Today, again with that posture thing. And a desire to suck in my belly to stand taller. Also pulled a muscle in my bicep, so I'll walk tonight instead of trying some more Pilates right off. Probably cool down with yoga after the walk. But the point is, hot damn! I've found a form of exercise that makes me feel better about myself. I wasn't ready to like it; depending on what you read, it's not exactly based in anatomy and physiology. But the Basics disc clearly showed how your body should be positioned in each move, what areas it's targeting, and there's a chick modifying the moves for folks who can't handle the whole thing.

Past the halfway mark on B4 (yea!), and did some baby hat in the doc's office today. Doc reminded me of how fertility stats decrease as age increases, so I'm a little restless today (should probably ask Terra if I can come babysit, so that I can come to my senses, but I'm so jonesing for a kid right now, might do more harm than good. Should probably offer to watch Draken instead; that'd be more of a wakeup call, considering how skittish he is around me) and will probably do some thinking and planning with Les in the coming weekend as to how we want this year to play out.

Hell has frozen over...

Ain't she a beauty?

Well, she got a pass from me. I'm very pleased with myself. Now granted, it's a tad easier to pass up that warm, yummy deliciousness when the outcome could be a splitting headache, but still, we're talking Melanie never-met-a-carb-she-didn't-love Johnson here. And I do have Advil at my desk and I took my acidophilus this morning. Could've easily rationalized that sucker right into my mouth.

Test #2: I'm grabbing soup and a salad at Panera for lunch, instead of a sandwich and cookies. Though admittedly, not splurging on the cookies is probably more of a money issue than a carb issue.

I think I finally hit halfway on the B4! I'll double check tonight, maybe give it one more row, and then do the pattern switch. Yea! Walked on both breaks yesterday and did yoga last night. I'm hoping to take a short walk after work today if the weather holds. It should; we don't get the crazy thunder and lightening for another month or so usually, and I don't give a crap about plain rain. Kind of hard to, when the entire NY walk was performed in the stuff. Makes me all proud of my fortitude n' stuff. :)

New week

"Today is a new day with no mistakes in it yet."
Anne Shirley
Anne of Green Gables, L.M. Montgomery
(graphic courtesy of http://www.anne3.com)

Figured out why I was so mopey last week. Actually I take absolutely no credit for figuring it out; I was describing the symptoms to the darling husby around Fridayish and the first words out of his mouth were, "sounds like Candida." The man's a genius. I'm a dink. My body, in recent years, thanks to the horrific diet I've eluded to maintaining, has developed a penchant for the occasional bout of hypoglycemia and an influx of intestinal flora. That's a yeast infection for you folks who don't clue into my annoying tendency toward $5 words. The good news is since it's intestinal, it doesn't have the obscenely aggravating itchyness of a regular yeast infection. The bad news is it causes blinding headaches, all-over body fatigue, and depression that plows right through that medication that I so happily tote as my savior. So I've gotta lay off the processed foods, I switched back to Splenda ($ issues put me back on sugar a few weeks, which certainly didn't help) and acidophilus supplement, and I HAVE to get exercising. The headaches waned Sunday, but I slept too much that day and thus couldn't get to sleep on time that night, so I'm still a little dragged out.

The good news is I've decided not to bail on the Avon Walk (congrats to Alexa for performing perhaps the smallest guilt trip in history and having it work, LOL!). I pulled out the materials and will spend this week planning my fundraising and laying out an exercise regimen. I've decided not to give a crap about losing weight, not even gonna try; my goal rather, is to get in shape to perform this walk, period. And in a damn sight better shape than I was for the one in 2002. I do that and the weight will take care of itself. I mean, I'm not the most coordinated person and the weather was inclement, but I tripped and fell 3 times that day! And we were only walking, people! Sad. I'll be by myself this time, but I'd rather not look like a cartoon character in the process.

So I'll put the links for My Avon Page and the Avon Walk back up on this blog in the next day or two, so peruse 'em now so that when I come to you with my puppy-dog eyes, begging for donations, you'll be prepared. I trust Avon; in 2004, more than 71% of the money raised went toward breast cancer research and programs with an emphasis on helping those without insurance, underprivileged, etc. Walk's not til October. I can do this!

Another caption for the bunny pic below, in honor of those goofy Christians who celebrated Spring a month late this past weekend:
My Easter bunny can beat up your Easter bunny
or my personal favorite:
Hey, anybody seen the cat?

What the hell?

Ok, I know I just posted, but was dicking around on the Web and came across this one...(courtesy: AP)...and I gotta comment...

That fat cat from last month is one thing, but holy shit! Anybody else besides me that didn't know they grew 'em this big!

This baby's begging for a caption, something like, "Jim Bob thought the genetically engineered carrots would save him money in the long run, but . . . "

What else? Hmm..."I'm no chef, but I think the hasenpfeffer might be a little tough tonight."

There's gotta be more, but I can't think of 'em...

Yup...not right in the head...

So I'm finally able to listen to music at work again...Les and I share the discman at home, and recharging the batteries is a pain in the butt so more often than not, I just forget to bring the damn thing. But I just got a brand-new Dell XP Pro system at work, so I asked permission to use the CD-ROM for personal music. It's nice having a computer with sound and decent vid capability, lemme tellya.

Definitely in a weird place at present though, because instead of bringing up NPR or one of the local radio stations, I find myself listening to Enya, which is perfectly respectable, or.......wait for it...........Hampton the Hamster. Yes folks, way back when, Melanie invested the $6 or whatever on a single CD that contains 3 versions of the Hamster Dance. What can I say, the beat wakes me up. Still, to be 36 years old and listening to the Hamster Dance...feel free to pat me 0n the head next time you see me.

Renewed interest in SSS of late; must be due to the painful demise of our poor ruthee's SSS. That's 2 SSS disasters and no completions as yet in our little group, but I refuse to be intimidated. Of course, it helps when you give yourself a break; I've found a couple of holes in my progress--little ones--but since I'm the one that's going to be wearing it, I decided against tinking; with laceweight, it's murder anyway. Since I went with the non-mesh pattern, the holes are in st-st areas, so they won't run, I don't think...please god, let this be the case! Also plunking along on the B4...the umbilical hat's a snore, straight st-st in the round, so that's been seeing the bottom of the bag, and the same with the little dress I started, because it feels like I have too many projects going at once. Gotta finish something!

Ready for weekend...

Ramblings of a Wednesday.....

Coffee.....elixir of the gods.....

(photo courtesy of roadsideamerica.com)

Seriously, how did I make it through high school on tea? I used to wake up in the morning, fix myself a cup of hot tea in my shamrock mug, skip breakfast, and climb over the snow to get to the bus. Lunch was a small bag of Fritos, a brownie, and an iced tea. Dinner was normal. So it's not surprising that my eating habits have evolved the way they have, but still...this little train of thought came about after reading an article by Dr. Dean Ornish today, and getting back on his bandwagon. I love the look of his programs and I'm afraid I'm eating myself into an early grave, but one thing about his programs: we'd be talking major change. I've never met a carbohydrate I didn't like. But I also don't like the way my legs have been feeling this week, my absent self-image and esteem, and how easily tired I get. We humans are Borg; we can adapt to anything. Clothes don't fit? Buy the next size up. Have trouble getting up from a sitting position? Grab onto something and hoist. It isn't until you take an honest look at yourself, and say, "damn, this used to be easier," that maybe your brain and your emotions reach the point of being capable of acknowledging the need for change. Until then, it's the little things you notice, but they're not big enough for you to do anything about.

What's infuriating though, is that I've had these thoughts for years longer than I should have. I just had a flash of memory from a good 12 years back. I was home visiting, Meara was in elementary school. I was living in Tampa, I remember because I'd promised Meara we'd go to her school down the street and play at the playground, but I was only about 2 weeks healed from fracturing my coccyx so I certainly wasn't moving at full speed. We went anyway, and I tried to keep up, but I remember thinking how out of shape I was and how when I had kids, I certainly didn't want to be this out of shape--I want to be able to keep up with them, play hard, run hard, give them a good outdoor lifestyle. Now the kicker: injury notwithstanding, that was 75 pounds ago! I was in a job that kept me on my feet the majority of the day, so I was in decent shape, just a shade overweight. I wasn't nearly as bad off as I thought I was.

Perspective.

I tellya, though, knitting centers me when I need it to...came home yesterday in a grump for no particular reason, just the blahness of life coupled with a serious lack of funds. Dove into the baby blanket and did a couple rows, switched to SSS for 2 rows...didn't accomplish much between TV (House in a tux...aaaahhhh!) and other stuff, but definitely had an improved mood as the evening wore on.

I absolutely need to start walking again, weather and pain be damned. I bailed on the Avon Walk when we almost got evicted, because it was a wake-up call that I needed to take care of things better here at home before I can give of myself to good causes. But it also gave me permission to let the very idea of exercise slip to the wayside again. Again, what am I saying? It's never been high on my list of activities. What's it going to take for me to take care of me?

Sorry, gang, little whiny today...either that or having a major breakthough...kind of hoping it's the latter, 'cause I'm damn tired of me as is.

::snickers...giggles...ROFLMAO::

Just reread my last entry.....relaxation without guilt.....that's a good one!

See, I'm a type A personality trapped in a lazy person's body. Used to be quite the neat freak, quite organized, always had 10 things going at once. Now that I'm medicated, I still have 10 things going at once, but I'm much more relaxed about it. Which means it feels like less is always getting done, there's this carefree, I'm-not-getting-graded-on-this attitude that allows me to go at my own pace, with the side effect of never being happy with that pace. Perpetual butt-dragging. Frustrating as hell.

The little dude up top here is Bucky Katt, courtesy of Get Fuzzy, by Darby Conley (graphic courtesy of http://www.comics.com). Bucky's another favorite of mine; he's a sarcastic Siamese who torments his roommates: human Rob, an ad exec, and lab/shar-pei mix Satchel. Bucky's attitude makes Garfield look like a pussy.

I've often thought of writing a memoir about my experience with depression and lithium deficiency. I think it could help people. I have an entire novel written that's semi-autobiographical, that deals with my issues with artistic license. Part I is the way I want it; Part II needs some work. But watched a repeat of "House" on Friday, and it reminded me of something damn scary, that could easily have me 86ing the memoir idea for good. Main sickie that week was a bulimic who needed a heart transplant, and House ends up lying to the transplant committee in order to get her a heart, because her condition would've been enough of a reason to consider her high-risk. Like she deserves it less because she has an eating disorder. Now certainly I realize that there's other criteria that come into play, that "House" is fiction—my friends have taken to teasing me because I'll make points in conversation with "yeah, but on Law & Order last week, there was..." But the point is that gods forbid, something were to happen to me requiring a new organ, the last thing I want any transplant committee judging me on is the fact that I'm a self-abuser. Because that doesn't go away. And it ain't my fault. The medication helps, but it's like alcoholism, it's a one-day-at-a-time thing. I've grown so much in the last 10 years; I'm an entirely different person from who I was in college. Judge me on who I am now, not who I've been. Crap, I think I just made the argument for why a memoir would be such a good thing, so important toward promoting more open criteria on things like transplant boards. Someday I'll turn these ideas into a book of essays or something. In the meantime...

Finished baby booties, started an umbilical cord hat (from SnB) and a little dress from Zoe Mellor's Nursery Knits (sweet patterns! also planning another pair of booties probably and a couple pair of those fingerless mittens that small people wear in the early months to keep from scratching their faces). Poor SSS is getting neglected, but I'd rather get to the halfway point on the baby blanket right now; still plenty of time til the shower, but if April goes half as quickly as March did, then I need to use my time wisely. They're naming her Kylie Kincade...not bad. Not a clue where the Kincade is coming from, but I was half expecting something hideous like Christine, so...

Congrats to Phil Mickelson on his 2nd Masters win! We won't discuss how much of the final match I frickin' watched yesterday; sometimes I really don't know what's come over me.

Friday...it's a beautiful thing.

This is a better picture of Eduardo from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends (courtesy of wikipedia). I was a little off in my previous entry; he has the brain of a 4-year-old, not a 3-year-old. He's a big sweetie, and he LOVES potatoes!

I'm ready for Friday, lemme tellya. Had the added stress of a flat tire yesterday :P I took care of it right after work, but it meant sitting around a Tire Kingdom for an hour and a half. No fun. But this is the first time in 2 months that my company isn't screaming for OT people on the weekend, so I'm going to be able to relax without guilt this weekend. Don't have a damn thing planned, for a change...there's a class at the church tonight on feminist goddess tradition that I might attend, and certainly the house can use some work; but maybe if I don't put such pressure on myself to do X, Y, and Z, I'll actually get A and B done in the process too. Hey, it could happen!

Elected not to frog the baby blanket...did several rows last night, actually felt like, productive. Can't wait to get my Knit Magic in; I'm thinking I can make several baby hats and bibs with that thing in the time it would take me to handknit one basketweave hat...probably not the case, especially if the thing doesn't come with the instruction booklet, but we'll see.

Coffee has NOT kicked in yet...

Yarngasmic

Graphic courtesy of a fellow knitter/blogger http://knitandtonic.typepad.com My sis will definitely think I've gone round the bend on this one, but any diehard knitter who looks at that picture and doesn't think to themselves, oh yeah, that's the stuff....isn't being honest and needs to reflect.

Alas, this self-proclaimed diehard never picked up the needles last night...I'm still stinging over the fact that seed stitch finally bit me in the ass again, creating a lovely little design flaw/feature about an inch long on one side of the border of the baby blanket, that I absolutely don't have the strength to frog back past, so I'm leaving it in. Of course, usually when I say that, it only takes another day or so for the self-pride to kick in, and since this is going to someone, it's in the denial/we'll see category.

So with no knitting to talk about, I give you a survey snitched from Lil Sis's LJ:

1. DO YOU SNORE?
Apparently like a buzz saw...the cats aren't safe near my mouth when I'm in REM.
2. ARE YOU A LOVER OR A FIGHTER?
Both, I think; hard to tell what's stronger
3. WHAT'S YOUR WORST FEAR?
Losing Les
4. AS A KID, WERE YOU A LEGO MANIAC?
Not a maniac, never needed a support group or anything. Loved building anal stuff with 'em, especially houses with the big flat green one as the base. I do love that they've just come out with Eggos that look like Legos!
5. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF "REALITY" TV?
Evil. Contributing to the downfall of TV in general. Lacking social redeeming value.
6. DO YOU CHEW ON YOUR STRAWS?
No. I do remember chewing on pencils when I had braces.
7. WERE YOU A CUTE BABY?
Well, I wouldn't throw me out of the crib. (oh, and Meara, for the record, even with your Above All scars, you could've won contests!)
8. IS THE SINGLE LIFE FOR YOU?
ROFLMAO! Um, no. The pirate's life's not for me either.
9. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR KEYBOARD?
Work: Black (brand-new Dell!:), home: beige
10. DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER?
Umm, not really. When I sing without working at it, I can't carry a tune. Hum occasionally.
11. HAVE YOU EVER BUNGEE JUMPED?
Yeah, right. Afraid of heights and that "holy shit, I'm going to die" feeling that you get on rollercoasters. Not happening anytime soon.
12. ANY SECRET TALENTS?
This ain't me being humble, I just can't think of any...
13. WHAT'S YOUR IDEAL VACATION SPOT?
Tent camping someplace with Les, state park, ideal weather...
14. IS JAY LENO FUNNY?
Eh. I'm more a Letterman fan, but don't watch either with frequency; put myself to sleep at night with M*A*S*H*
15. Have you eaten sushi?
Not really.
16. HAVE YOU SEEN THE MOVIE "DONNIE DARKO"?
Yes. It freaked me out and baffled me and I'd like to watch it again to try to understand it better, but can't imagine being in a place in my head where that'd be acceptable. F*cked up movie!
17. DO YOU GIVE A DARN ABOUT THE OZONE?
Well, yeah, but more concerned with how we're destroying things right here on earth.
18. HOW MANY LICKS DOES IT TAKE TO GET TO THE CENTER OF A TOOTSIE POP?
Well, I don't bite my lollipops, so a damn sight more than 3.
19.CAN YOU SING THE ALPHABET BACKWARDS?
Um, no, but I can recite all 50 states in alphabetical order :) Hey wait, I've found my secret talent!
20. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON AN AIRPLANE?
Yeah, it's a blast!
23. WHAT'S YOUR STAND ON HUNTING?
I'm fairly against it across the board, unless you're actually hunting for food.
24. IS MARRIAGE IN YOUR FUTURE?
Heh. Yup. And Past. And Present. ::sigh::
25. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
When I work at it; thanks to computers, it's pretty messy. Oh wait, it's always been that way.
26. WHAT ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO?
Aspartame (Nutrasweet)
27. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAID, "I LOVE YOU"?
This morning as I was nuzzling husby goodbye to head to work
28. IS ELVIS STILL ALIVE?
Vacationing with God in Miami Beach
29. DO YOU CRY AT WEDDINGS?
Nah. I'm too busy getting drunk.
30. HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR EGGS?
In my ovaries. ::slaps leg, giggles:: Also omelet, scrambled, hard fried.
31. ARE BLONDES DUMB?
No worse than brunettes or redheads
32. WHERE DOES THE OTHER SOCK GO?
Fourth dimensional sock vacuum.
33. WHAT TIME IS IT?
10:41 a.m.
34. DO YOU HAVE A NICKNAME?
Ember. Big Sis. MJ. LMP (Long Mountain Princess--we lived on Long Mountain Road when I was little). Rosebud (that one's from when I was little too).
35. IS MCDONALD'S DISGUSTING?
Yes, and it puts me to sleep too, but I clog my arteries with the crap anyway.
36. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WERE IN A CAR?
This morning, driving into work.
37. DO YOU PREFER BATHS OR SHOWERS?
Showers, I guess; hard to find the patience for baths. Now if we had a tub like the gal in the graphic above...
38. IS SANTA CLAUS REAL?
Of course. Keeping those ideas alive is part of the magic of life.
39. DO YOU LIKE TO HAVE YOUR NECK KISSED?
It's definitely up there on the passion meter, though my ticklishness gets in the way sometimes.
40. ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK?
Not really, anymore, though that fear didn't really leave until I was sharing my life with someone.
41. WHAT ARE YOU ADDICTED TO?
Chocolate, coffee, knitting, reading, The West Wing, L & O SVU and regular, M*A*S*H*, Panera's hazelnut cream cheese, and the list goes on........
42. CRUNCHY OR CREAMY PEANUT BUTTER?
Creamy JIF, crunchy for a treat
43. CAN YOU CRACK YOUR NECK?
No...Les can though, and it still wigs me out!
44. HAVE YOU EVER RIDDEN IN AN AMBULANCE?
In the front :( .....Dad was in back.
45. HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU BRUSHED YOUR TEETH TODAY?
::hides head:: I'll do it later, I swear!
46. IS DRUG FREE THE WAY TO BE?
We-ell, I have no problem personally with the occasional herb, but with our money problems, it's a non-issue.
48. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES?
Blue-grey, depending on the light and what I'm wearing
49. WHEN'S THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Indulged just the other day when I caught the end of Phenomenon on HBO
50. DO YOU LIKE YOUR LIFE?
Yes. I wouldn't mind more money, and teeth and a big dose of self-esteem for Les, but I'm patient. I look forward to kids, studying environmental science, working from home...these things/dreams make the present bearable.
51. WHO'S BETTER, FALL OUT BOY OR MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE?
::sigh:: I'm too old for this question :( Wouldn't know My Chemical Romance if the group set up and played at my work; but I heard Fall Out Boy on OTH once (One Tree Hill, for you people with lives that don't revolve around the idiot box) and they weren't bad, so yeah, them.
52. ARE YOU PSYCHIC?
Yup. Nothing honed or reliable yet; maybe in another two or three lives, it'll be sharper.
53. HAVE YOU READ CATCHER IN THE RYE?
Yeah, one of those books that I wasn't forced to read in high school, so I read it on my own.
54. DO YOU PLAY ANY INSTRUMENTS?
Still own two trumpets, I'll never pawn those. I have a small keyboard, drum, and recorder that I goof around on. I want to learn violin, six-string harp, and that wooden flute for potential Waldorf homeschool my kids in their secondary years.
55. HAVE U EVER STOLEN MONEY?
I invoke my 5th Amendment right against self-incrimination.
56. CAN YOU SNOWBOARD?
Never tried. Did ski once, but that whole fear of heights thing kept me on the bunny slope the whole day.
57. DO YOU LIKE CAMPING?
LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!!! Wish I was doing it now. Honestly, only been twice, but it's lovely, in spite of the work involved.
58. DO U SNORT WHEN U LAUGH?
Rarely.....ok, occasionally.....
59. DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC?
I'm a witch, what do you think?
60. ARE DOGS A MAN'S BEST FRIEND?
Yeah, though there's something to be said for when a cat wakes up enough to lower himself to pay attention to you too.
61. DO YOU BELIEVE IN DIVORCE?
Certainly. Doesn't mean I'll ever subscribe to it.
62. CAN YOU DO THE MOONWALK?
Half-assed
64. IS IT COLD OUTSIDE TODAY?
Nah, pleasant, getting up to almost 80
65. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
Inhaled a Cinnamon Crunch Panera bagel with hazelnut cream cheese, aaaaaahhhhhh!
66. DO YOU WEAR NAIL POLISH?
Toes, absolutely, even though it's a pain in the tush to do. Clear on fingers.
67. DO YOU WEAR THONGS?
Just say NO to butt floss!
68. WHAT'S THE MOST ANNOYING TV COMMERCIAL?
Anything with Keith Pierson's kids, the Olsen twin wannabes
69. DO YOU SHOP AT AMERICAN EAGLE?
Um, no. Or anywhere inside a mall at present.
70. FAVORITE BAND AT THE MOMENT?
Beats me, haven't listened to the radio in a while. Enjoy Kelly Clarkson still, as well as angry chick music, Enya's new one, Linkin Park, and whomever's on Garrison Keillor's show.

Well, that's enough blogrific torture for one day :)

Wingnut :o

graphic from www.joshlyman.com

Nuff said.

Monday...

It's un-frickin'-real what you can find on the Web.

Since I mentioned this cartoon a couple of entries ago, thought I'd put up a pic...all I had to google was "sheepdog cartoons" and ta-da! You'd think since I work in the biz, I'd be used to just how infinitesimally significant something has to be to make it on the Web in some fashion. But since I kind of loathe my contribution to what I see as a problem with the gluttony of our capitalistic society, it's understandable I'd be in a little bit of denial. Anyway, I think the pic is from wikipedia.

Weekend was pretty ok, just not long enough. I don't know if it was daylight savings or the work I did outside, but I took a 3-hour nap yesterday afternoon, went to bed practically on time last night, and I'm still a little foggy. I'm about a day off of one of my meds too, though; will remedy that later today.

Finally, FINALLY, got outside and dealt with Sylvester, the aloe plant with the pituitary problem. All I can say is, hey, anybody want some aloe? Well, actually, I won't know for a week or three if my transplanting was a success, I figure; I haven't done much with plants yet in this life, beyond the basics, so even though aloe is a hearty plant that actually does grow in its own little sections, so that I didn't feel like I was cutting apart roots to separate them, I still won't trust my success until they're still alive a couple of weeks from now. Also downsized Jade, which isn't much more than a twig at this point, thanks to some demon neighborhood squirrels. And I cleaned out the dead stuff around Fred the fern, fed and watered everybody, and started some basil and lavendar. My God, it was nice outside yesterday! My porch catches shade until late afternoon, so I just threw on my bathing suit and some shorts, and got dirty :) Used an entire 40# bag of potting soil and assessed my supplies too—next step is a new bin for soil and some implements, like a leaf trimmer.

Knit just a bit last night, but again, my heart wasn't quite in it...will work the baby blanket tonight, I think. I put the payment in last week for the Knit Magic I bid on eBay, so that should come soon; no idea what I'll make with it, just knew I wanted one...I had one when I was a kid.

Definitely sluggish today...may have to spend some of our precious dough on sugar or caffeine later...

Miracle

Just had to sneak a piccie off of ruthee's blog of our knewest knitting bitch, Keelin. Visited this little angel last night and got to hold her ... I'm pretty sure she's the smallest human critter I've ever had the pleasure of holding. They weighed her while I was there and she'd dropped to 6#12--pretty normal for a newborn. My latest small person reference points, Hunter and Meara, were both over 8 pounds at birth, so having that little package in my arms last night was amazing!

I guess I really should take Meara out of the small person reference point area of my brain; she's frickin' 22! Just got offered an adjunct professor position for next Spring at UCF, and she's only half done with her Masters! I'm too proud to be jealous, but it does have me throwing myself into my textbooks again for my environmental science studies.

I must be learning patience too, because even though I can't wait to see Keelin again, I also didn't feel that ache that I get around really small people, that ache that tells me how ready I am to have one of my own. It felt completely natural to hold her, touch her, but it didn't hurt. That's a relief.

The nurse had her up on her shoulder last night and that critter was pushing back on it with her arms, holding up her head with eyes open...2 days old! Her cry is this clear, little sound complete with quivering chin; I was just knocked out watching her.

Mine!!!

So I cook a little. Really only a little, when you consider how we live, but I'm learning. I enjoy watching Barefoot Contessa on the Food Network and Lidia on PBS. I dream of not living out of a can or box quite so much. I dream of eating healthier. I've been told I make yummy round things (souffles, casseroles, pot pie, snicker doodles, etc.). Branched out into homemade bread this past holiday season with mixed success; my wheat bread kicks some ass, however I learned the hard way not to use self-rising flour in a yeast recipe on French bread. Had to shove it in the oven, just so it would stop growing!

So my mother-in-law, who never met a sale she didn't like and will likely have "Born to Shop" engraved on her tombstone, treated herself to the next size up of Kitchenaid stand-alone mixers after Christmas. Actually a justifiable purchase when you witness the number of quiches and pecan pies she ends up making in an average winter holiday. So what to do with the beauty pictured here, her original mixer (graphic courtesy of kitchenaid.com)? She has 2 daughters. She says they both turned it down; I wonder if she even asked them, but certainly wasn't going to look a gift mixer in the mouth when she offered it to me, so when they came down earlier this month for Les's dental appointments, they brought it with. Our galley kitchen is low on counter space, so I put it on my newfound worktable for now.

Last night I made shepherd's pie (round!) for dinner and 2 loaves of wheat bread afterward (one for the new mommy). Why not try the new mixer! Used it to make the mashed potatoes for the shepherd's pie, and then again to mix the heated milk mixture with the flour for the bread. So easy! Was able to do the whole bread mixing with it, just switched from the flat ceramic head to the dough hook once I started adding the 2nd batch of flour. Where have you been all my life, pretty black Kitchenaid mixer?! Where can I make room on the kitchen counter for you? Nowhere, really :( the one place where we do have space, it would kind of be in the way, and the other counters are packed (microwave, toaster, toaster oven, tea maker, coffee maker, unfortunately all of which get used with regularity). Hmm...for now, the worktable is awkward, but perfect; allows me to leave it out for use; which is cool because it's a heavy sucker, not something you want to be lugging out when you need it.

Remarkably, managed a couple of rows on the baby blanket last night; must've been in serious domestic goddess mode, though my heart wasn't really in the knitting yet. That's frustrating, but it's been a busy week. The baby shower is May 27, so I've got goals to set with regard to the baby stuff I'm knitting for Kara. Tonight I'll fix a basket for Terra and Keelin and go for a quick visit; can't wait for my baby fix!

Welcome to the world, Kielyn (sp?) Siobhan!!

I'm a surrogate aunt again!!! I have no idea how her first name is spelled yet, but she's here and healthy! Terra gave birth sometime this morning. The first name, pronounced Key-Lynn, I gave the "ie" because the pronounciation is similar to Kieran, but it could just as easily be Keelyn(n), I suppose. It means "gentle." Siobhan is pronounced "shi-vawn.

Delightfully distracting at work today, as if excitement about our newest Knitting Bitch wasn't enough to distract me, they're building new desks right behind me, which requires an electric drill, a modicum of banging, and 2 guys talking in Spanish. I'm on an upswing of sorts though, I can tell, and lemme tellya, it feels good. Patiently worked some SSS last night, but I think I've managed my first design flaws/features in the sucker, which I'm hoping to remedy with my crochet hook, because I'm damn sure not frogging or tinking. I think I'll work baby blanket tonight though; it's my solid TV night (NCIS, House, SVU) and I don't want to screw up SSS more than it's currently screwed. Just remembered I want to bake bread for Terra too, so knitting will have to occur between rises. She's one of those frightfully organized people who baked casseroles and other dishes to be put up/frozen for easy meals in the first weeks, but I figure you can always use some homemade bread to go with.

I hate shoes that make noise, always have, you know, like sandals that slap against your heel as you walk. Not sure why; was taught to turn my nose up at clogs and flip-flops at an early age, probably because they make it easier to trip over your own feet and a) I didn't need any help in that department growing up, and b) we weren't allowed to make mistakes, have accidents, etc. But alas, I needed something to wear with my wealth of capri pants now that the weather's warming. I have one pair of slides, but they don't offer enough support for my needy lack-of-arches to wear on any regular basis. So went to evil Wally world yesterday and sure enough, found an ultra-comfy, only slightly ugly pair of slides that curve the foot better for my needs and only cost $12. Must remember to send a thank-you note to the Dominican refugee that made them. Best yet, they have that big toe loop, which keeps the foot in the slide better; and that's fantastic for someone like me, who hasn't worn shoes like this her whole life and is quite the klutz besides. I mean, I also have a pair of black slides with a pretty butterfly on them, that I wear from time to time, but on stairs, driving, and other tasks—like walking—it's kind of hard not to come off looking like a cartoon character on roller skates. Fashion, unfortunately, also means knowing one's limitations.

Monday.................blahs.............

Meet Bloo. Full name Blooregard Q. Kazoo, he's main character Mac's imaginary friend; when Mac's mom decided he was too old for an imaginary friend, Bloo went to live at Foster's where Mac visits him now. Bloo's vacuous, but complex; just when you think he's a completely irredeemable little shit, he does something to show that he does know right from wrong--he just chooses not to acknowledge it most of the time, because it gets in the way of what he wants.

I'm sleepy...I've gotta stop napping on Sundays, it goofs up my sleep sched; I hit the sack late Sunday as a result and feel shredded on Monday morning. It was a good weekend; didn't get to Sylvester yet, but did buy the supplies, got plenty of relax time...but still...weather's cool and beuautiful out, and there's about a million things I'd rather be doing than sitting at this f*cking computer!

Didn't touch my knitting this weekend; got some books out of the library a while back that I'm finally reading--Mayo Clinic's latest stuff on how to lose a big ass (body, not spouse...well, the technical titles are like, Healthy Weight for Everyone and Fitness for Everyone). It's decent, all stuff I already know, but sometimes when you read it written differently, it makes better sense somehow. Or maybe I'm just ready for a change. Thought I might be pregnant for about a week there, and when it turned out I wasn't, it was such a mixture of sad and relief. I've got to put my impatience on a shelf somewhere. Once Les has teeth and is looking for work, then it's feasible, but until then, we're not nearly ready.

I just ache to be a mommy. Ostara lifted my heart this weekend; got to see Draken and a small pile of 4-year-old girls running in circles at the church. Triplet girls....remembering them oughta keep me from getting pregnant before we're ready! Beautiful kids, but my god, how do those parents hear themselves think!

In the meantime, the weather's clear and pretty, I'm finally hearing Canada geese (their call has a sweetness that always transports me straight to Above All--where I lived in CT from 11 to 15), and I'll get my hands in the dirt this week; separating Sylvester into several vessels, downsizing Jade, and starting some basil and lavender.

Yup, it's a rut...

Meet Wilt (graphic courtesy of wikipedia). Polite to a fault, this imaginary friend is the former buddy of a basketball fan. He's a sweetie; once missed an entire mall outing because he was too busy holding the door open for people and saying "you're welcome."

Got my hands in the yarn last night, but my heart wasn't quite in it. Cast on fresh for a baby hat and made it so tight by accident, that it had to be cut off. Vicky was impressed, I think. I don't get it, I wasn't tense last night; was feeling good, had just gotten my hair cut (nothing drastic, but quite a bit healthier and more manageable). So then gave up on the hat, did a round + of SSS, and when I got home, cast onto straights and transferred to the circular for the hat. I just suck at casting onto circulars, I guess.

So tonight, I'll plunk along on a little bit of everything. Thank the gods it's Friday! Tomorrow's Ostara, but I'm not making myself nuts over it; I doubt many people are going to show for the class that early anyway, and it's not like I'll get points taken off for reading straight from Turning the Wheel. Definitely crediting ruthee and Terra with the bulk of my material--that Ostara article from 2004 was a gold mine. Then I need to buy tires for the car, and the rest of the weekend is mine! Absolutely buying potting soil this weekend and dealing with Sylvester (aka the aloe that ate the porch); he's not looking so hot.

New Foster's tonight, 7 p.m., Cartoon Network. Sweet god, I need a life!

Yarn withdrawal and other random stuff...

Meet Eduardo (pic courtesy of http://imaginary-friends.net/). He's an imaginary friend looking for a home. He's about 3 years old and a very lovable fraidy cat of a monster. To get to know him, check out Foster's Home of Imaginary Friends (one of the more warm, fuzzy, positive cartoons out there today, having nothing to do with superheroes, guns, aliens, mutants, trading card games, ninjas, or any of the other fertilizer so common in today's cartoons) on Cartoon Network. The almost-35-year-old man-child I live with watches quite a bit of Cartoon Network, and Foster's rubbed off on me...especially Bloo, whose arrogance is only matched by his sarcasm.

Haven't knit since Monday.....definitely startin' to get twitchy..... canya tell?

Monday's knitting can barely be called knitting since I ripped it all out :( Then Tuesday, I did the taxes (still getting $ back! Whew!), and started prep for the class I'm giving Saturday morning on Ostara. Spent last night finishing the outline for the class and creating some visual aids (yes, folks, there will be props!), but by the time I got that stuff done (and dinner--I actually pulled together crock pot roast midweek!), it was like 10:30 and I wasn't about to pick something up just to knit one row.

At least the class stuff is done, so I can relax Friday night and concentrate on other stuff like what to accomplish this weekend, if anything, and whether or not to bring anything to the potluck besides that box of Girl Scout cookies we don't want...

So, if your LYS has a swift and ball winder in shop and you buy say, a skein of Lorna's Laces or something, will they wind it for you for free if you don't have your own swift? Silly question, probably, since even if our wonderful Judge K (LYS owner) couldn't do it for some reason, I could always schlep over to miss ruthee's and bribe her with wheat bread or something for the use of her swift...but stuff flies through my random head and I gotta ask...

Seriously though, back on my cartoon rant, whatever happened to cartoons being about regular roles in life, a little moral, a little lesson, the Roadrunner outsmarting the Coyote rather than dismembering him? If the Coyote got dismembered, it was his own fault, and that's what the kid watching it took away from it. I mean, when Elmer Fudd used to blow Daffy's beak off, I recognized it for what it was. It certainly wasn't instilling any kind of "violence is acceptable" message, like the family-values groups seem to think it was. If you're being raised right, you're going to look at it the same way Daffy did, with a "you're despicable" and move on. There is such a thing as taking something too seriously. One of my faves from the Roadrunner days didn't even have Roadrunner in it; it was the one with Wile E. Coyote and the sheepdog taking their rightful places in the grand scheme on a daily basis with the help of a timeclock and a lunch whistle. Coyote hatches elaborate scheme to steal sheep, sheep bleats, Sam the sheepdog comes running, beats the crap out of the Coyote, the lunch whistle blows, they stop, eat under their respective trees, the whistle blows again, and Sam goes back to beating the crap out of Wile E.
Call me tweaked, but that cartoon's hysterical.

Anyway, that's why I like Foster's, its simplicity. There's antagonists in Mr. Harriman, the head of the house in his mind, and Terrance, Mac's pesky big brother, but most of the show is small lessons and humor that almost any age can appreciate. And it doesn't try too hard; you know, how the Muppet movies made more recently seem to try too hard for the adult laugh...since the imaginary friends never grow older than their most recent human, there's this terrific intelligence and innocence in each one of them. Yes, folks, 36 years old and writing a frickin' essay expounding on a frickin' cartoon...sigh...

No news is good news

Feels like my knitting's hitting a dry spell...but I'm plunking along on several things so that really isn't the case. The dry spell thing is only because I spent time last night starting a baby hat only to rip out everything I'd worked because I'd calculated incorrectly. So nothing got accomplished except laundry last night. Well, that's definitely a good thing; been having a helluva time feeling comfortable in the tops I currently own, so the good ones go quickly.

I did do one bootie this weekend, quite nicely too, since I figured out I didn't do slip 1 purlwise correctly on the last batch I did. Haven't stitched it up yet; really should put some time into the SSS and the B4...I tend to do a row here, a row there on the B4, and well, that just ain't gonna fly if I expect to get the sucker done by May or July (baby shower sometime in May).

Supposed to get hot today (mid-80s) but there's this fantastic breeze. No baby yet in our KB group; eviction notice for said infant is the 28th.

My clan got news that a family friend passed away, so please put the widow and kids in your thoughts today. Marty Darby passed away from lymphoma on Valentine's Day. His wife Dini and my mom met in a Caldor (Yankee department store) about oh, 35 ish years ago, when they noticed the kids in their baskets were roughly the same age (me and her son Ted). We kids haven't kept in touch, but the memories are fond of hanging out together and playing when the grownups got together. Dini and the boys live in Aiken, SC, so I'm looking forward to paying them a visit the next time we're up visiting Les's fam.

Back to work (blah!)...should've brought SSS today...

Life is...

Graphic courtesy of www.shamrock.org
...pokin' along...

Slow progress on the knitting this week. House is a little cluttered. They installed fresh drywall in the closet, so the next move is the city inspectors, which could happen sometime between now and when we move out, so...the complex has nothing to do with that, it's all the city, so no one to bitch to. Spent $25 freakin' dollars to get a taillight replaced on the car, but FHP's been saturating my commute of late, so there really was no way around that expense.

Weather's turned rather glorious, and since we're staying in Florida (again), I'm determined to embrace it...work outdoors this weekend, get a little (only a little!) color. We'll see how gung-ho I am about the weather come July, but right now, I can definitely handle some sunshine and high-70s.

Knitting bitches are anxiously awaiting a new arrival :) Terra's doc/midwife/etc. talked about inducing at 39 weeks, which was yesterday, so today's appointment could mark a birthday for a little girl! She told us the name last night, and the first name promptly left my brain--I think it's Kylia Siobhan; I know that middle name is correct. ruthee's a little fit to be tied that the kid could be born on St. Patty's Day, and after reading up on it on the History Channel website, not sure I blame her, but I know Terra's ready for the small one to make an appearance.

I love that I'm learning stuff like the truth about St. Patrick's Day before I have kids; it'll allow me to teach 'em both sides without confusing them. I mean, given that I was raised Christian, it only makes sense that my community would take St. Patrick's Day on its face as a good thing. I mean, when I was a little kid, we went to church almost every Sunday. It wasn't until I was in junior high that we moved to the sticks, and my folks slowed down at putting forth the effort--and even then, we went to the Protestant church in town with frequency because the pastor could sermonize without putting you to sleep, and it was all of 3 miles from the house. Cyril and I joined the choir and remained in Christian circles, so how would we know any different? Especially me, since the folks pushed to get me confirmed but slacked on my bro and sis--now there's irony for ya...I had the most formal Christian education, Meara had the least. I'm pagan, Cyril's probably agnostic, and Meara's born-again. Probably a lesson there.

Gotta get to work; I am SO freakin' glad it's Friday!!!!!

Tired

Tired, tired, tired.....

Did I mention tired?

You have no idea how sedentary you are until you're forced to socialize on a school night. It's pathetic. I've had family stuff for 3 nights now, and I'm about ready to crawl under something for hibernation. We're in the home stretch, but it's still daunting.

It started with Dad noticing the bald front tires on our car the SECOND I pulled into their driveway Saturday night, and was capped off by Grandmother and Mom J going at it before dinner last night. I fell off the wagon a bit, and that helped. We won't even discuss how I feel about that.

I've been poking along on SSS for the most part, but we found out Kara's having a girl, so I'm going to dig through the stash for appropriate yarn colors for a set of baby Uggs, as well as start the sweater, hat, booty set from that mag (the basketweave stuff), mostly in white, 'cause that's what I've got.

And we got cell phones! His folks got 'em for us :) Graphic (and activation) courtesy of Virgin Mobile™. Can't wait to figure out how to work the damn thing...

Quickie...

No, not that kind of quickie...tho' we did break a going-on-2-years dry spell on our anniversary Monday >:) aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......

Added another Snoopy dancer; he's a fav pal of mine. I used to have a t-shirt with these two on it that said something like, "It's a Security Thing." Funny that Linus is my fave next to Snoopy, and I ended up marrying a woobie addict :)

Added a Yahoo Avatar too, just for grins. The dragon is Les. The Avatar's me channeling a bit of Abby from NCIS. My God, I need a life!

Put Tasha aside, she was vexing me; concentrating on B4 and SSS this week and the heck with the rest. Won't have enough time this weekend to work on 'em anyway, need to picnic with my folks Saturday, clean house Sunday, for Les's folks coming into town for his dentist appointments. ACK! At least I can bring one (or both) of them to my folks' house for something to do if things get weird--Cyril's living at home is starting to wear on them big time. Yeesh, both sets of parents in one week; I'm gonna need a vacation after this!

I FOUND MY DINING ROOM!!!

Damnedest thing . . . hung a left at the living room and there it was! And I didn't have to destroy the neatness of the closet to do it!

Saturday was a wash after work, and Sunday found me, after a leisurely time with the paper, pondering whether I wanted to putter or nap. Life without kids is rough, lemme tellya. I only hope the shock isn't too rough when we finally get our shit together and procreate.

So shovel in hand (just kidding, but it was definitely close to that), I created more floor space in the bedroom first, and then heartened by this success, I moved onto the dining area and tucked in to work. Threw things out, boxed things up, and added more to the Hubbard House pile. Moved stuff back into the walk-in closet without sacrificing space to move in there, and putting stuff in there that'll be easy to move back out when/if they get around to gracing us with fresh drywall and a stackable washer/dryer.

And I did what I mentioned, stacked boxes and crates and pillows to create a flat enough space to lay my old corkboard on top of it. It's sweet, and by some miracle the cats are only using it for a nap spot and not a scratching board yet. Probably still too bewildered by all the shit that got moved--I took away one of Fig's nap spots on purpose, because the books underneath her spot were nasty with fur and litter crumbs. Right now, it's just a workspace, but I love it! Les vacuumed afterward, and the place is feeling downright livable and not nearly so overwhelming. Next weekend, the other two corners of the living room--his folks are coming down for dental powwows, so say some prayers that we don't have to twist Grandma's arm too hard to get Les into teeth.

Thanks so much to my KB ladies who've been thinking about me and about ways to help with my living sitch. Rest assured I did get your phone calls, I just suck at returning them. Y'all are making it a lot easier to stay in Jax :)

graphic courtesy of darkharbor.com

If at first you don't succeed, frog, frog, again...

So I started Big Bad Baby Blanket over again. Using the actual pattern.

Feel free to laugh at me, I get quite a chuckle out of it myself.

I'm having delusions of aptitude of a philanthropic nature. There's blogs out there begging for blankets for the hurricane victims (http://purlsofhope.com), and it got me thinking about the 2 bags of stash I have. When I first started this knitting gig/sickness/obsession, Steph and Ginny unloaded a monster bag of mostly acrylic on me, that they had inherited from someone. We're talking stuff with $.35 cent pricetags on it, in colors that must've been in style, oh, during the Summer of Love. But before I learned to turn my nose up at acrylic, I certainly wasn't going to look a gift yarn in the mouth, so I sorted it, 86d the saddest stuff in the bunch, and was still left with 2 BIG Panera bags of yarn.

So I've been poring over the Big Book of Knitting Stitch Patterns this week, and while avoiding work this morning, I think to myself, hey, self, what if you taught yourself those patterns by knitting swatches of each, and then knitting those squares into blankets? At the rate the government's taking care of things down there, I could actually have a blanket or two made before things stop being so dire.

I could bring a bag of the yarn to KB if other folks want to do a swatch or two with me, whaddaya think?

Helping with this burst of energy was the idea I got yesterday--stacking all the boxes that we don't normally dig into, in a formation on the left side of the dining room, and placing my old corkboard on top of them as a table. I could lay out projects, set up my sewing machine, etc. Not sure it's feasible yet, but I'm definitely digging into the dining room this weekend to find out.

Well, since I went to the trouble to go to work on a Saturday, guess I should edit a coupla more sites :(