Work is kicking my pumpkins.
Real post coming soon.





Edit: I gave my ass a little vision after seeing that the unadulterated version was already represented elsewhere, in Blogistan.

Edit 2: There's no ass here, so move along.

P.S. I just need to say that the MEME-That-Was-Not-To-Be was more goofy, creative fun than I've had in a long, long time. Thanks La. ::Smooches.::

Labels: Don't Know Nuthin' Bout No Ass Watch Wednesday

I own shirts with a tighter squeeze.-Cabana's comment to College Boy, just moments after the busboy at Red Lobster attempted the Heimlich manuever on Cabana, even though he wasn't really choking like that.

What a night of laughs that was.

But today, we're all kinds of random.

Wednesday's Child is Full of Boog
Cakers is sick. It seems that her upper respiratories are throwing some kind of goober fest. She has a cough that sounds like a bullfrog, and her breathing sounds like puppy growl. Last night, when I checked on her before I went to bed, the growling stopped, and I thought she had stopped breathing. A few seconds later, I realized she had been breathing all along, but just the growling had stopped.

Even though I went to bed knowing she was okay, those few seconds of fear stuck with me in my sleep, and I woke up every couple hours, after strange dreams of coughing frogs and growling dogs and Cakers crying for me from a room I couldn't find.

So I'm tired.

Yesterday, the self-Unemployed Cabana was reconstituted into a self-employed man. This is a good day. To commemorate, I took a sick day to look after the Cakers.
I did drive to the office to pick up some stuff to work on at home. However, with only 3 hours of sleep under my pillow, I fear for the quality of anything I touched today.

7 Thangs
Way back, Kelli called on me for the 7 things meme. I really struggled with this one, this time. It's like I ran out of goofy.

But here it goes anyway:

1) By the time I was in 7th grade, I had read the V word, but had never heard it pronounced ::Even now, I struggle with merely uttering its spelling upon a keyboard.::

I read it as Vageena.

In my gym class was a girl from South Carolina. She was really sweet, with a great accent and an almost perfectly linked uni-brow. Her name was Regina, which I then believed to rhyme with Vagina.

I was a developmentally disturbed 7th grader, so of course I never looked her in the eye again. I finally confessed what I thought was the coup de snark of the year, to my best bud Alice. Once she stopped laughing for the third time, she corrected my faulty pronunciation and proceeded to tease me about it for the next six years.

2) When I was in 7th grade, still, while sitting in Mr. Casper's 4th hour science class and wearing a handknit poncho, I swallowed a quarter. I remember putting the quarter between my teeth, just as my friend Guyann Ryder performed her famous impression of the Waffle Wiffer. Of course I laughed, and it was down the hatch with George. I didn't choke, but I do remember that it didn't go all the way down for a few hours.

Of course I was sent home. My recently widowed mother was pretty pissed. But not nearly as pissed as my recently half-orphaned brother, who had just returned home from the front lines of Viet Nam to help my mom take care of, well, me.

And that he did.

Anyhoo. My mom called the doctor, who told her to tell me to poke at my poop every day, to make sure it passed. If it didn't pass, I'd have to come in for a procedure.

Poke my poop, my ass.

I said I saw it.
But I lied.
For all I know, it's still in there.

3) Over 25 years ago, when the victim advocacy movement was in its toddlerhood, I was a volunteer counselor for the local Rape Crisis Team. It was one of the most powerful experiences of my life, and pretty much set me on my current, professional course.

4) My husband is the only man who has ever been allowed to snuggle me while I sleep.

5) I went to a Phish concert once. I wore khakis and a purple wool blazer and carried a leather purse.

I was not much impressed.
I'm sure the feeling was mutual.

6) I had my first boyfriend in the 4th grade. His name was Steve and he had clodhopper feet and a great sense of humor and loved to carry me around the playground at recess. Steve was one of three kids from my 6th grade class, who committed suicide before the age of 25.

7) I made my first pun at the age of 8, by renaming of a Disney Classic: Snow White and the Seven Drifts. I know. I should have quit when I was ahead.

I'm Out of My Heading, With Fatigue.






Edit: I reloaded the asswatch picture. It was only showing up half the time. It's not like he needs a watch or anything.

Edit: Ass begone!

Labels: MEME, WTF Wednesday

I'm still feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all.
The sights.
The sounds.
So much so, I'm afraid that it's going to take me a couple of days to give this near-life-altering event its bloggy due.

In the meantime, I do have a couple of pictures to share:





That's right.
I went to Talbots.
In my slippers.
And took a picture of my foot with my cell phone.

And you know? I have to agree with what they're all saying about an event such as this: It isn't about the shopping.

Labels: I Went to Talbots in My Slippers

Taking Leave of mEye Senses



I know I posted leaves last week, but let's just say I'm not getting out much these days. Between early morning meetings and two nights of parent/teacher conferences at work, my life this week has pretty much been sleeping, showering and driving to and fro.

::For Eye Candy kick, Don't forget to click. The only post-shot applications used on this was a touch of white balance and contrast. I love the white undersides of the leaves.::

Taking Leave of My Dollars and Centses
And she'll have yarn, yarn, yarn,
Til Cabana takes her Paypal away.

Last Sunday, Bonne Marie engaged in a bit of Stash Dehancement.
Also, last Sunday, I engaged in a little Stash Enhancement.

I guess you could call it Yarn Yang. And it went something like this:



That there is closeup skank sample of some Dream in Color yarn. ::Can't recall the color name. It's pink and purply.::

I've read about this yarn in recent months, what with all the to-do about the cute baby sweater kits and all. But I really had not paid much attention to what, exactly, all the fuss was about.

Once I got my grubby mitts around some of this, and found out what a good deal I had gotten, I'm fussin' big time. I have enough for a sweater, and am thinking of the Ribbi Pulli, with a contrasting yoke.

But dayam if I ain't already got a pile of must-do projects on my tiny plate, in my tiny mind. In the meantime, I'll be fondling with fondness.

Pink-y Swear
Way last week, I happened upon a pretty good deal on Rowan Rope, over at Elann, whereupon I snagged me yet another batch of pink. I'm thinking of something quick n dirty for the Cakers.



Speaking of Cakers and Pink-y Swears, when this yarn was delivered, she asked if she could open the box. ::She just had a Birthday, so this is definitely an area of competence.::

Of course I said okay.

Ten minutes later she brings me the rectangle-shaped USP box, with a crisp, rectangle- shaped chunk cut out of the top.

"Here mom. I had to cut it with the scissors because it was too hard to open."

Gulp.

I check the plastic bag and note a couple puncture wounds and one solid cut.

"Honey, you should've asked me for help before using the scissors. One of the skeins is cut, see?" And I held out what looked like a Pink Skank with a bad haircut.

"Sorry mom.”
Pause.
“But that's okay, because you still have lots and lots and lots of yarn. And even lots more downstairs. Right?”

What could I say to that?

What I do know is that I defintely need a new hiding place for the scissors. And the yarn.

Labels: eye candy Friday, Yarn Yang

Bluck.*
Word.

Word.
Word.

My daughter is in the 1st grade.

Written on these cards, are words from her 1st grade reading books:



Words that my 1st-Grade-Just-Turned-6 daughter allegedly struggled with while reading to her teacher.

Duh.
Word.

Knit
Word.

This is the Mimi Long Gone scarf that I'm knitting for my mom, in the Cherry Hill stuff. I realize that the scarf is no longer named Mimi Long Gone.



But since I ripped out all 10 inches of it last night, Mimi Long Gone seems apropos.

Ass
Word.

While the Cherry Hill is on a time out, I'm thinking of starting a new, interim project.

I know it seems kind of crazy, but I've been wanting one of these for a few years, but could not find the "just right" pattern.

Until now:



And I wouldn't dream of starting on such an important piece, without first doing this:


It's a swatch.
Fool.



*Describes my current state of...everything.

Labels: Don't Know Nuthin' Bout No Ass Watch Wednesday

That's a pretty tree. And some fog. And some other trees that aren't that pretty, but seem to hold their own.

The Road Less Raveled
I received my Ravelry invitation last week and it took me several days to even get around to activating. Once inside, I found myself blinking a lot. Maybe it was just the effects of the weeks of wondering ("anticipation" is too strong a word), but initially I felt like I had been sucked into an alternate universe.

I finally joined a few groups, and tagged one friend, whose name I happened upon in a group.

My username is NatalieWould, so feel free to stop by and say "hi."* Or you can just leave a comment here. Heh.

I have much work ahead of me, taking stash pictures and uploading FOs. I'm not sure when I'll find the time to do all this. So for now, I'll just look at the pretty pictures, lurk in forums and watch for trainwrecks.

What I really need is a weekend free of previous commitments or spontaneous family engagements. And it's definitely not this weekend. Tonight, right after work, we're driving to campus to take College Boy out for a belated birthday dinner and grocery shop.

Maybe Tomorrow.**

*I feel kind of weird saying that in a blog post, because people can say "hi" right here.

**This song was the B-side to what early 70's hit?***

***Never mind.

Edit: Well call me Funky and tie my Chicken. Bets, I coulda sworn on my sacred stack of Donnie posters, that the song in question was the B side to I'll Be There. And I originally was going to call on you directly in my post, for the answer, 'cuz I knew you'd be the one. Sorry for the bad toss.

I left my purse at home today. Bad brain doth follow me since.

Labels: eye candy Friday, The Road Less Raveled

Between working late, co-managing a household, nightly homework monitoring and three days in a row of what feels like a cheese grater being taken to me holy vessel, I’m finding little time or motivation to participate in things like, the rest of my life.

But to get bloggy monkey off my maxi I’m going to do a quick n dirty post.

Spawn Time
Cakers was successfully launched into the 7th year our life together by a swim party at the neigbhorhood health club. ::The very place I met Cabana.:: I tell you, when it comes to managing 15 six and seven year olds, one large cake and a butt load of high expectations, a swim party is the way to go.

I was't able to get many good shots of the party. I used my zoom lens with the "action" setting, but the lighting for distance wasn't great. In the pool area, my lens fogged, which gave all the pictures a humid haze.

Even though it's clumsy and not well orchestrated, I just love this picture.

Maidens of Lemuria

This is Cakers and two of her bestest buds. This picture makes me think of some ancient, mystic place, minus the styrofoam water noodles, of course.

Yesterday fall finally arrived, in a glorious whirl of cool, color and wind.

After dinner I headed out for a walk. At the end the driveway, Cakers approached me on her bike and asked if she could come along.

And what a treat that was, on such a resplendent evening.

She rode almost beside me the entire 2.5 miles, jabbering. About 3 blocks into the jabber walking, she said, “Know what mom? Today in gym class, when I was jogging, I felt like a real woman.”

Good thing I wasn’t eating or drinking, or I may have spewed. After shaking off the immediate image of Bo Derek, slow bouncing down the beach, to Bolero, I asked in an amazingly brave voice, “How so?”

“Because I jogged for two minutes, without stopping. And that's what real woman do. Right?”

Whew. If only the feel of Real Womanhood was so easy.

Equal Time
College Boy is convinced that when he was about 3 years-old, I left him in a Blockbuster Video store and didn't notice until after I had driven away. Over the past year he has brought this incident up several times; in an increasingly accusatory tone.

It isn't true, of course.

Although there was an incident.
Which has been explained to him.
A buttzillion ways to Sunday.

As follows: We were leaving the Blockbuster store and I thought he was right behind me, but he wasn't, and the exit door closed before he got to it. As many of you know, the exit doors at Blockbuster do not open from the outside.

So, as he leaned on the glass door and started to wail, I darted out the second exit door and back in the Entrance. We were physically separated for less than 30 seconds.

But all he remembers is seeing the bottom of my reeboks, running away. And the crying.

So, in honor of his plunge into manhood, I made him a card:



The text on the front read something like: Now that you're all grown, I hope you can forgive me for what I'm about to tell you, about that unfortunate incident so long ago..

Inside: Get over it.

Knitting Time
I haven't been knitting much. When I've been able to prop my eyelids open long enough, I've been plugging away at this burp pad from the Mason-Dixon book.



The yarn is Cotton Ease. These pads are really fun, but not a quick knit for me. It's so purty, I find myself stopping all the time, to look at it.

Ass Time.

Labels: From My Loins, My Daughter Scares Me

Happy Birthdayz to Me Bay Beez.*
**

Yesterday The Cakers turned all of 6 years-old on me.
Today, College Boy turned 21.

My offspring done sprung off.
Excuse me, while I take a minute.

*A pile of favors for Cakers' Saturday BD extravaganza. So let it be written, I'm getting too old for this shit.

**Evidently it's quite difficult to asterisk photos.

Labels: eye candy Friday, From My Loins

I know I said I wouldn’t be here much this week, but this quick-n-dirty couldn’t wait.

Monday I wore Tomato to work. And it went something like this:



I know.

And for all its Neonic-Cheap-Yarn aesthetic leanings, I cannot remember a time when a sweater of mine, or any garment for that matter, drew so much positive attention at work. Seriously.

In riding out the glory of the near alarming* success of ma 'Mater debut, Monday night I whipped up an i-cord belt** for Ariann, for Tuesday’s Ain’t-I-The-Knit-Shit?-Act-II.





While Ariann garnered some positive attention as well, the overall complimentary tone of admirers was on the reticent side. Which kind of surprised me, given the complication factor. Maybe they were sensing an unwitting participation in the creation of a self-absorbed knit freak?***

And just when I thought I was finally safe from the piggish leanings of the in-house photog, ::Phothog?:: I endured this licivious, pixelated assault.



From the WTF Me Wednesday Files
Thanks for those who gave me M.C. Escher as the artist in question, in my last post.

At the official website, I found this print, which very much brings to mind the fair isle pattern on Tomato.

So.
I use my work and email calendars for daily calendaric needs. At home, Cabana mostly uses the kitchen calendar, where he recently started posting important dates for Cakers' school activities and deadlines.

Monday after work, I switched the kitchen calendar month to October. Even though I rarely look at that calendar, I needed a quick reference for dates regarding upcoming birthday festivities and related plans.

After I switched the month and had a quick look-see, I headed to my laptop to check my mail. A few minutes later, Cabana came into the kitchen from the garage, and standing almost in front of the calendar, started yammering about something.

Behind him, just over his head, I noticed this:



Oh My Gawd! Is that an Escher print??

He pulled it down and looked at the subtitle for October, then flipped the calendar to the front cover.

"It's an M.C. Escher calender. 2007." He replied.

It's October, people.

Welcome to my brain. Send money, meds and booze.****

*After awhile I started to get a little paranoid. Like, what's wrong with the rest of my wardrobe? Like when people fall all over your new haircut, to the point where you worry what they thought of your last one? Maybe it was just the allure of orange on a beautiful fall day. Yeah. That's it.

**You may recall, my Ariann came out a bit small, so the belt was to be the official fastener.

***False impression. Totally. I am humble. I am.

****Substitutions not allowed.

Labels: Beating the FO and the Dead Horse it Rode in On, WTF Wednesday