••• Sunday, May 18, 2008

Sunday Masala 

So You Think You Can Blog?
I know. You really didn't think it was going to happen, did you? That I would actually post three days in a row. Me neither.

First thing, I'd like to share with you a new-to-me blog I happened upon while following a Ravelry thread, which lead to this person's profile page, where I found the link. I initially clicked the link because I was intrigued by the name of the blog. ::Warning: It starts with the F word. Yeah, that F word.:: Truthfully, I was pretty much expecting some kind of Rage Against the Knitting Machine voice on the other end of the line. What I found instead was a kind of quiet, intelligent and interestingly observant voice, attached to (at the time)one well-buffed fingernail.

And not that there would be anything wrong with a Rage Against the Knitting Machine kind of voice, whatever that may be. It's just that I was curious as to what it would be, if it were. You know. To be. There.

So go say "hi." Then come back. And if you came here with only one comment wad to blow, I'll share.

So Bye-Bye Mr.'Bana Boy Pie
Big changes are a-brewing here at Chez Porcine-Cabana-Cakers-College Parasite Boy. Due to economic circumstances outside of our control, Cabana has been forced to take a real job at a real company. At this real company, he has to really show up at a real certain time, real early, and stay all day. For real.

He starts tomorrow.

His getting a real job is a good thing, because we built this City on Rock and Roll* household on two incomes. And two incomes we need to sustain it. I may have mentioned this before, but when Cabana isn't Cabanabizing, he is a self-employed designer of things that make things that make parts for cars. Over the past few months this line of business has been very slow around here. And despite many recent hints that the shit of the things-that-make-things-that-make-parts-for-the-cars will be hitting the fan any day now (in a good way), we can't afford to wait around.

His getting a real job is also a bad thing, because when working from home he has the flexibility to get Cakers up and off to school, volunteer in her classroom, do laundry, take stuff out of the freezer for dinner when I forget, pick up Cakers from school and run to the store on a moment's wifely whiny whim, for wine.

His getting a real job is a sad thing because both he and Cakers love his volunteer work in the classroom and that he is always available to be a designated driver for field trips. Cakers cried when she found out he can't help out on Mondays anymore. And they were both melancholy Friday morning, after their last round of daddy-breakfast, watching Caillou on PBS and chatting about their upcoming, respective plans for the day. ::Cabana calls it Cal-You. He's so cute.::

So starting tomorrow morning, Cakers will be roused, fed, and routed to school by her big brother, via the Hobo-mobile. ::As of this moment, his car is still filled with all his worldly possessions. I ask him about it daily, which I think has actually prolonged the event I eagerly anticipate. Don't ask how I know this, but I will say that it has to do with a white pair of corduroy pants I left out on the clothesline for about, let's say, 8 months, circa 1983.:: At least he has promised to take the two basketballs off the top of the heap in the back seat, to protect her precious head in the event of a sudden stop.


Bottom Line: We do feel blessed that this timely, back-up opportunity came
a-knocking when it did and recognize that we were lucky to have the benefit of a well paid, stay-at-home parent over these past two years. Besides, there's only three weeks left in the school year before I am home with her. And my handsome College Lump.

Rebound Knitting
It's been said that you're better off being alone than getting into a new relationship too soon after a breakup. Having endured post break-up life both ways (well alone and well-rebounded) I think the rebound is a good place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there. ,

I suppose the same can be said for rebound knitting. Here is incarnation number three for this recently re-ripped sock yarn:

The pattern is called Tidepool. It's easy and free and on the needle looks like ten miles of bad road, for which I blame the yarn, NOT the pattern. I don't think the texture of the pattern finds itself until stretched across a foot.

So, the good news is that I've not given up on finding a purpose for this yarn. The bad news is that I've not given up on finding a purpose for this yarn.

I did have a couple more little ditties to share, but suddenly my drive for ditty done dove face down in the dirt.

I will leave you with this further evidence of how great is my new camera and how cute is my old husband. I apologize for the screeching sound the camera makes when I focus. And please pay no attention to the poor man's irregular rhythm. He was born with an irregular heart beat so it's really not his fault.

Click Here for Guitar Cabavideo.

Edit: I removed the embedded video because it was messing up margins and perhaps I was being presumptious of pipples' desire to see it and wanted to make it more of a choice and less of a chore.

But ain't he cute anyway?

And yeah, that's my nasal diction you hear.

*Every day, that Jefferson Starship song is in my brain and at least two or three times a day I belt out that line, without warning. Today I heard Cakers singing it, when she thought no one was around. WTF?

Wow, I'm so touched! Thanks for the mention, I'm glad you like the blog.

I totally need to start a Rage Against the Knitting Machine tribute band :)
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