What is your most memorable vacation? Where did you go? What made it memorable?
We haven't been on vacation in awhile. Everytime Dave and I went out of town, I got a little tipsy and got pregnant. Once we figured out getting pregnant was not the result of vacations or wine, we planned a family vacation to Charleston.
I loved going to Charleston, SC this past summer. It was our first vacation as a family and I enjoyed every minute of it. Well, except the part about Regan getting sticky pralines in her hair but watching the kids' reaction to Charleston was so fun. My best souvenir was the yarn I bought at the LYS and made into a shawl.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
My Car is on life-support...
We JUST paid off my little Mazda and now the car stalls every time I brake. Although I barely use my brakes (witness my driving record), it is disconcerting to be behind a dump truck braking with a Mack truck behind me. A few seconds and a screech of tires could see me in the middle of a Mazda sandwich.
So now it starts...the trudging around dealerships looking for the "right" car. I tell myself I am not going through a midlife crisis yet so I really don't need a 2008 Dodge Charger in salsa red. The Caliber is a better fit for a mommy with two kids who needs really good gas mileage. Sure the Toyota Matrix would be perfect for me but the Ford Mustang GTO beckons me like Blue Sky Alpaca. So what if Dave has his dream truck, why do I need a race car with a V-8, 354 horsepower engine?
Because I do but I'll be the good little mommy and end up buying something sensible. But I'm stopping off at the yarn store with my Matrix and filling the back up with yarn!
So now it starts...the trudging around dealerships looking for the "right" car. I tell myself I am not going through a midlife crisis yet so I really don't need a 2008 Dodge Charger in salsa red. The Caliber is a better fit for a mommy with two kids who needs really good gas mileage. Sure the Toyota Matrix would be perfect for me but the Ford Mustang GTO beckons me like Blue Sky Alpaca. So what if Dave has his dream truck, why do I need a race car with a V-8, 354 horsepower engine?
Because I do but I'll be the good little mommy and end up buying something sensible. But I'm stopping off at the yarn store with my Matrix and filling the back up with yarn!
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
And the winners are....
In case the writers' strike forces the cancellation of the Oscars
Drum roll.....
The winners for the Love Knit, Love Knit, Love Knit contest are TanteJ and Cauyeung. Since both are not living in Georgia, they cannot personally accept the award so I'll accept for them and mail it to them this week.
I had oodles of fun reading all the fave yarns. I've never used about 1/3 of them so I'm off to go shopping! Thanks for all the entries--I appreciate it. Also thanks to Dave for randomly drawing the winners. He had no idea what he was doing and blindly stuck his hand into a tupperware bowl.
Drum roll.....
The winners for the Love Knit, Love Knit, Love Knit contest are TanteJ and Cauyeung. Since both are not living in Georgia, they cannot personally accept the award so I'll accept for them and mail it to them this week.
I had oodles of fun reading all the fave yarns. I've never used about 1/3 of them so I'm off to go shopping! Thanks for all the entries--I appreciate it. Also thanks to Dave for randomly drawing the winners. He had no idea what he was doing and blindly stuck his hand into a tupperware bowl.
Monday, January 28, 2008
I'm to be Published!!!!!!
Just got my contract today. Lela Nargi is editing a book called "Knitting Through It: Inspiring Stories for Times of Trouble".. I sent off a story to her about 18 months ago and she liked it enough to include it in her book. It's the true story of my klutziness and why I started to knit.
Look for the release on 3/15. Yippee!!!!
Saturday, January 26, 2008
The Day After My Last Yarn Store Visit
 Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com |
But they didn't find my hidden, super secret emergency credit card!!!!
Found a boatload of blog quizes courtesy of Knitsbella (aka a deadly strain of projectile vomit)
Thursday, January 24, 2008
It has to be Friday the 13th.
I know it's not Friday nor is the 13th but good gosh, why am I the target of strange people and happenings?
Case in point: I'm dyeing my hair back to my natural color of reddish/brown early this morning. The grays have staged a violent sit-in on my head. Regan, in her usual unerring way, decides it's time for fight with her brother. Heads boink, fangs come out and hell breaks out in the living room over a decapitated Transformer. I run out of the bathroom with a towel over my new Bali bra to intervene. Wesley is thrashing on the floor like a rapid steer with Regan pulling out my Louet Riverstone wool to hogtie her brother. Why? For branding? For rights to the departed Optimus Prime? I don't know. I separate Calamity Jane and Tonto.
I go back into the bathroom only to discover Natural Instincts dye peppered all over my beautiful white bra. It looks like a piece of lingerie left over from the Catwoman's wardrobe.
After the kids get to school, I brave the winter morning to go geocaching. The coordinates lead me to the American Legion where I feverishly search for a film canister holding the log near the retired howitzer. A woman comes out of Quizno's next door and thrusts a piece of old ham and individual package of mustard in my face and shrieks, "Have you found it?"
I feign innocence while I evade the ham. "It?"
The woman looks at me like I'm crazy (but she is the one still shaking the ancient slice of cured pork, not me). "The dog? You know the one that's been running around here. I brought some old meat to lure him out."
So you can what? Kill him with outdated ham? Scare him into submission with condiments?
"No, not here about a dog." I smile politely. You know the smile--you're crazy and I'm going to back away slowly and call in Homeland Security.
"Why ya here?" She continues to get closer to me and the cannon.
I didn't want to explain geocaching to her--I just didn't have it in me. So I lied (so sue me) and told her I was taking measurements of the cannon for Wesley's school project. Hamming Hannah bought it and left me alone. By then, I was freezing and my fingers were numb.
I come home to a pile of previously clean clothes. Zack made himself a nest in our flannel pajamas and slept the morning away, snug and cozy. Teach me to throw clothes in a basket, put the basket on top of the washer and leave for the morning. Actually, I think he's testing me. Will Mommy drop me off at the pound? No, I won't. He's just got microchipped and I was stupid enough to put in our real address, not some totally fake one in another part of the country.
I decide to knit and pull out an old unfinished project. It was supposed to be a beaded ribbon scarf but it's ugly so it's getting frogged. The round things are not spider nests but beads. They look better in the package.
I need a drink--only I can't because I have to pick up the kids in thirty minutes. I search for a cold Diet Dr. Pepper and chocolate. Can you believe I have neither in my house? I've resorted to eating Godiva Hot Cocoa mix straight out of the canister because I ran out of milk.
Goodness knows what is going to happen this afternoon.
Case in point: I'm dyeing my hair back to my natural color of reddish/brown early this morning. The grays have staged a violent sit-in on my head. Regan, in her usual unerring way, decides it's time for fight with her brother. Heads boink, fangs come out and hell breaks out in the living room over a decapitated Transformer. I run out of the bathroom with a towel over my new Bali bra to intervene. Wesley is thrashing on the floor like a rapid steer with Regan pulling out my Louet Riverstone wool to hogtie her brother. Why? For branding? For rights to the departed Optimus Prime? I don't know. I separate Calamity Jane and Tonto.
I go back into the bathroom only to discover Natural Instincts dye peppered all over my beautiful white bra. It looks like a piece of lingerie left over from the Catwoman's wardrobe.
After the kids get to school, I brave the winter morning to go geocaching. The coordinates lead me to the American Legion where I feverishly search for a film canister holding the log near the retired howitzer. A woman comes out of Quizno's next door and thrusts a piece of old ham and individual package of mustard in my face and shrieks, "Have you found it?"
I feign innocence while I evade the ham. "It?"
The woman looks at me like I'm crazy (but she is the one still shaking the ancient slice of cured pork, not me). "The dog? You know the one that's been running around here. I brought some old meat to lure him out."
So you can what? Kill him with outdated ham? Scare him into submission with condiments?
"No, not here about a dog." I smile politely. You know the smile--you're crazy and I'm going to back away slowly and call in Homeland Security.
"Why ya here?" She continues to get closer to me and the cannon.
I didn't want to explain geocaching to her--I just didn't have it in me. So I lied (so sue me) and told her I was taking measurements of the cannon for Wesley's school project. Hamming Hannah bought it and left me alone. By then, I was freezing and my fingers were numb.
I come home to a pile of previously clean clothes. Zack made himself a nest in our flannel pajamas and slept the morning away, snug and cozy. Teach me to throw clothes in a basket, put the basket on top of the washer and leave for the morning. Actually, I think he's testing me. Will Mommy drop me off at the pound? No, I won't. He's just got microchipped and I was stupid enough to put in our real address, not some totally fake one in another part of the country.
I decide to knit and pull out an old unfinished project. It was supposed to be a beaded ribbon scarf but it's ugly so it's getting frogged. The round things are not spider nests but beads. They look better in the package.
I need a drink--only I can't because I have to pick up the kids in thirty minutes. I search for a cold Diet Dr. Pepper and chocolate. Can you believe I have neither in my house? I've resorted to eating Godiva Hot Cocoa mix straight out of the canister because I ran out of milk.
Goodness knows what is going to happen this afternoon.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Exorcism in the Fabric Department!
If you're familiar with me, you'd know my ineptness at crafts (not including knitting)
I'm in Joanne's (the enemy's camp) to shop for my beginner's sewing class. I'm trying not to look like a deer stuck in the headlights but I'm starting to panic. My list is long and I have two hours before I pick up the kids from school. I will never get it all done because as soon as I walk in, half of the associates go on break or go into hiding in the silk flower department or cower behind some large bolt of hideous flannel fabric.
I try logic--something that I know I lack. Get the pattern first. Simplicity tote pattern 8831 sounds fairly easy to find. Neatly organized by name and number. I wait patiently for an elderly lady in a walker to shuffle out the way. As I reach to pull open the drawer, the old lady with the dexterity of an Olympic gymnast whips her walker around to grab the LAST pattern 8831.
That's alright--I'm sure there's more in the back. Which there isn't according to the three associates I cornered in the candle-making department.
I consult the list I got from the registration. Two different types of fabric. Some belting and some notions including a seam ripper, some overpriced wax paper and a mini-torture device with a serrated rolling blade and wicked handle. Some dressmaker scissors are next as well as a sewing box. I spy the old lady with the walker selecting some shears that I think Freddy Krueger used on Elm Street. I give her a wide berth when she smirks evilly as her lower dentures shift out of her mouth.
A quick detour to grope the yarn calms me down and I wheel myself to the ten mile long check out line. I feel a jab in my leg. The elderly pattern thief/serial killer had pushed her walker into the back of my keds. I bite my tongue not because it would be impolite to swear at a senior citizen but because I think her eyes are glowing red. We have the almost exact same sewing supplies and merchandise. My God, the devil is at Joanne's and she's probably signed up to be in my beginner sewing class!!!! And me without my holy water and my wooden stake. I'll be better prepared on February 2--my first class.
I'm in Joanne's (the enemy's camp) to shop for my beginner's sewing class. I'm trying not to look like a deer stuck in the headlights but I'm starting to panic. My list is long and I have two hours before I pick up the kids from school. I will never get it all done because as soon as I walk in, half of the associates go on break or go into hiding in the silk flower department or cower behind some large bolt of hideous flannel fabric.
I try logic--something that I know I lack. Get the pattern first. Simplicity tote pattern 8831 sounds fairly easy to find. Neatly organized by name and number. I wait patiently for an elderly lady in a walker to shuffle out the way. As I reach to pull open the drawer, the old lady with the dexterity of an Olympic gymnast whips her walker around to grab the LAST pattern 8831.
That's alright--I'm sure there's more in the back. Which there isn't according to the three associates I cornered in the candle-making department.
I consult the list I got from the registration. Two different types of fabric. Some belting and some notions including a seam ripper, some overpriced wax paper and a mini-torture device with a serrated rolling blade and wicked handle. Some dressmaker scissors are next as well as a sewing box. I spy the old lady with the walker selecting some shears that I think Freddy Krueger used on Elm Street. I give her a wide berth when she smirks evilly as her lower dentures shift out of her mouth.
A quick detour to grope the yarn calms me down and I wheel myself to the ten mile long check out line. I feel a jab in my leg. The elderly pattern thief/serial killer had pushed her walker into the back of my keds. I bite my tongue not because it would be impolite to swear at a senior citizen but because I think her eyes are glowing red. We have the almost exact same sewing supplies and merchandise. My God, the devil is at Joanne's and she's probably signed up to be in my beginner sewing class!!!! And me without my holy water and my wooden stake. I'll be better prepared on February 2--my first class.
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