Potato Chip Scarf Ickiness

I tried. I started a potato chip scarf and finished it. It's....well...it's trendy and my niece loves it. Binding off took one whole day. My hand is cramped and to be honest, I won't be doing it again. When you have to take Tylenol after knitting, it's not a good pattern for you.



Ray is modeling it. She is not actually hanging herself. It's her impersonation of a Vanna White model.

Wesley wanted to be in the picture but he didn't want to model the scarf so here he is with Ray.



Sweet pie kids? Well, most of the time but they're mine so I'll keep them.

Have a Safe and Hangover Free New Year!

Mid-week Warning: Don't drink cheap wine from Walmart and then chase it with Zima!

Weekly Warning 12/28/08

"Nothing says Merry Christmas like a headless Joseph and a giftless Magi."

Some highlights from a Hissyknit Christmas:

All I can say is "Thank God" the Nativity stable and resin statues are from Rite Aid. Wesley decapitated poor Joseph, Baby Jesus has a chip on his shoulder (literally) and one of the Magi is missing his gift. Regan put her Optimus Prime action figure on top because "he beat the angel". Miley Cyrus' tacky little coat from Ray's Hannah Montana doll covered the sheep.

Regan poured Diet Dr. Pepper in our tree's water basin because I said it looked droopy. A line of ants infiltrated the Star Trek "Q" ornament because he was too close to the basin of Dr. Pepper. Some omnipotent being--he didn't know ants were attracted to sugar.

During Christmas Eve Mass, our priest made the mistake of giving porcelain bells to my children to ring during a specific part of Mass. I'm sure the nervous tic above his eye isn't permanent.

Peppermint candy canes do not freshen a Collie's breath contrary to Zack's attempt to do so.

Vanilla foot lotion causes chapped feet as the Aussie licks off any application of it.

Smoked ham thrown on the floor during a fit is an effective way to cause Mommy to slip on her tailbone.

There's more but the glue between Joseph's head and torso is dried and Regan is finished coloring Jesus' shoulder with a Sharpie--it looks like a rather large birthmark or giant bug on Him. I'm off to get a head start on my New Year's Eve celebration.

PS--I wouldn't trade my Christmases for a million bucks.

Merry Christmas and all that jazz...

I will be out of the loop for the next few days. But I wanted to wish everyone a safe and joyous Christmas (Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or Festivus or whatever holiday you celebrate.)

After Christmas, I'm sure to have new weekly warnings--after all, both kids are getting scooters, little magnetic toys, assorted action figures as well as enough chocolate to choke a chicken.

I'm off to bake Kolaches, sausage balls and Santa's chocolate chip cookies.

Weekly Warning 12/21/08

Try to change the subject when discussing Santa's unmentionables.

It was a normal day. I was driving the kids to school and for once, Regan and Wesley were not bickering. I was singing Christmas carols off key.

Out of the blue, Wesley asks and I quote, "What kind of underwear does Santa wear?"

I immediately stopped warbling out "Silent Night" and froze like a possum caught in our backyard by an enormous Collie. Why did he ask? What did he ask? Why does he need to know?

Of course, Regan blurts out, "Why, Bubbie?"

In a strange logic, Wesley explained that he was worried about Santa getting a wedgie coming down our chimney. Our fireplace is not huge so I guess it was an appropriate question.

"Cause if he wears boxers, he'd really get wedgied." Wesley points out as Regan nods in agreement. "If he wears Ben Ten briefs, he could slide down easier but all the soot would make his underwear dirty. And bleaching Ben Ten makes it pink."

Wesley continues to enumerate the pros and cons of elf lingerie when I mutter under my breath, "I think he must wear a thong." (Insert ick factor--large older gentleman wearing a thong.)

Of course, Regan's keen hearing picks up Mommy's inside joke and ponders it. I knew she had no clue what a thong was but she says, "Yeah, a thong." Only, with her little speech lisp, it comes out "Bong". Santa smoking illegal substances is another thing I don't want to think about.

By this time, we arrive at the school and a very nice, very young, very new teacher opens the door for Regan who yells out, "SANTA USES A BONG."

So to dispell rumors, I laughingly tell the new teacher that I am just the carpool driver and I have no idea what those parents are teaching. Jeez, these parents today.

Weekly Warning 12/7/08

Bind your children in straight jackets when shopping in a jam shop.

My mother loves preserves and jams. Every Christmas I mail her a couple of jars from the Stone Mountain Pecan Company down the road from my house. Every year I get threatened with a restraining order because my children accompany me when I buy the jellies.

My mere $19.97 bill triples because Regan decides to open two packages of chocolate covered cherries and Wesley manhandles the pralines. Or they bicker over whether or not Mother prefers the pecan peach butter or the blackberry preserves. This usually ends in a glob of jelly and broken glass on the floor because Regan pushes Wesley into the barrel of fruit cake which causes a domino effect onto the jelly.

Next year Mother is getting flowers.

Weekly Warning 11/30/08

Always check for horns and forked tongue when asking for directions from a state park employee.

It's a beautiful fall season here in north Georgia. The leaves are brilliant colors. You come over a mountain and it looks like one large beach bonfire--oranges, reds, and even some blue.

We decided to visit one of the state parks of Georgia. Amicalola Falls is a jewel in the North Georgia Mountains. There is a incredibly amazing water fall that you can hike up to--it's a about a mile up a mountain on a paved trail. Well worth the effort. We passed dozens of folks who had the same idea.

You would think coming down the mountain would be easier and it would be to if you are not me. A seemingly helpful park employee named Esther told us of another paved trail. She said it was a little longer but much more secluded--away from those pesky tourists (apparently missing Wesley wearing his "Are we there yet?" Florida tourist tee).

Off we went--all eight of us--my kids included as well as Uncle Al wearing flip flops. Sure the snake slithering across our path one hundred yards later should have detered us. But Esther had been helpful and she was still waving at us. Little did I know, she was just making sure we ended in the seventh layer of hell as a sacrifice to her master.

You would have thought the dead chipmunk would have sent us scurrying back to Esther but no, we were braver than that. And I'm not sure, but I think the forest closed up on itself like an evil entity. The trail all but disappeared. The trees leaned in, using their branches to block our efforts to retrace our steps.

Half way down the trail, the paved part stopped. Only because you had hold on to a rope to practically repel down the mountain. With Ray on my back like a chimpanzee baby, I gingerly climbed down and deposited Regan. Wes, the ever brave Cub Scout, made it down on his own.

After one hour of not seeing life (the birds had long since stopped chirping), we were heartened to hear cars and smell grilling hamburgers. We finally found our way back to our car, only to see Esther greeting new victims.

If I only had a vial of holy water....

Happy Thanksgiving!

The top three things I'm thankful for:
1. My family. Dave is the biggest teddy bear and he's a an awesome guy. My kids, while future juvenile deliquents, are healthy and happy (especially when they are fighting with Nurf guns and light sabers). My dogs--Zoe, President of GPEC (Gas Producing Exporting Canine) and the Incredible Mini Pony, Zack, are wonderful.

2. My job. I have one of the best jobs in the world--helping parents adjust (not that anyone truly adjusts to being a parent) to their new baby.

3. My house. It may be full of large tufts of floating dog hair and not entirely dust-free, but it's my home.

I do hope you stuff yourselves! Have a safe and blessed Thanksgiving.

PS I know I missed this week's weekly warning but my left wrist was in brace (the warranty on my body has expired) so typing was impossible.

Weekly Warning 11/16/08

People should not dress their dogs up to look like celebrities.

Minding my own business, I was startled to see a three foot tall Standard Poodle looping down the yard near the 911 Emergency Center. At first, I was a bit angry at the careless dog owner who allowed his/her dog loose in the road. Then I did a double take.

The poodle was attired in a Georgia Bulldog tee shirt and with a humongous 'do on top of her head. Imagine my amazement when I realized that the dog's hairdo was the same as Michelle Obama's hair. And despite the windy conditions, the dog's hair/fur stayed in place as if it was shellacked down. Why would someone deliberately style their dog's hair the same as Mrs. Obama? Or maybe Mrs. Obama styled her hair after the dog? I don't know but I put the dog and her do out of my mind.

THEN it rained that day and as I was going home, here comes Michelle the Poodle streaking again in front of my car. This time, the rain caused her hair to fall, making her look like Cher in "If I Could Turn Back Time" video while she straddled a gun. And if it wasn't bad enough, some evil human put a purple "Disco" shirt on the poor canine.

Immediately, I felt for the dog. If I had only brought some kibble, Mich-Cher and I could hit the road, raising money and schmoozing Navy personnel.

Weekly Warning 11/9/08

Bringing donuts to poll workers does not constitute voter fraud.

I was just being considerate. Most of the poll workers in my county are volunteers. I thought it would be nice if they knew their volunteer work is appreciate so I stopped off at Publix and picked up a dozen jelly donuts.

The poll workers were very grateful and I was patting myself on the back (after wiping the donut glaze from my fingers) when a disgruntled, impatient voter mutters, "Won't get your man elected."

Now I wasn't preaching politics nor trying to cut in line. I voted a month ago, thank you very much. I don't even have a bumper sticker, especially after tooling around for two months with my hubby's campaign magnet on my car.

I thought about being rude and I even had an insult. I pondering unplugging this guy's voting machine. I'm pretty sure that's illegal and I did have Ray and Wesley with me. What kind of role model would I be if I was committed a felony?

What I did do was let Regan take the last "Georgia Voter" sticker before the rude man could get it. Sometimes niceness is vastly overrated.

I wish I did take this picture.

My sister sent this to me yesterday. It's so beautiful. I'd thought I share it.

Weekly Warning 11/2/08

Spray Pam should not be confused with hair conditioning treatment.

I was just piddling, really. Just making dinner when I grabbed the non-stick spray Pam to hose down the cookie sheet for the chicken. Without paying attention (when will I learn?) or checking to see where the direction of the nozzle, I let loose and Pam immediately coats my forehead and top third of my hair. \

The Collie, thinking "Hmm, Mommy's really moisturizing!", leaps up and starts licking my face. Which causes me to back into the pan which pushes the the raw chicken which flies into the air and lands smack dab on my newly baked peanut butter cookies.

In the ensuing insanity, I stick my face under the kitchen faucet to clean off the Pam and Collie drool. It doesn't work so I'm off to the shower de-grease.

Hot Stock Tip: Buy stock in the company which makes Suave 'cause it took half of bottle of shampoo to get all the Pam out. Oh and maybe some acne treatment stuff because I'm expecting major acne breakout this week.

Weekly Warning 10/26/08

Tailgating a corpse is a moving violation in the state of Georgia.

This happened several years ago. I was rushing home through Atlanta traffic. I was working as a foster care caseworker and had just dropped off a kid at a new group home. It was a Friday afternoon in late July. A quick rain shower was causing steam to rise up on Interstate 85 through the heart of Atlanta. My air conditioning was out and I was sweating in my hose. I was desperately trying to ventilate my little tank top underneath the business suit. My hair was frizzing like a badly dyed Bozo wig--I was going through my blond phase. To be blunt, I looked like I was one tattoo away from an arrest for prostitution.

And so I was 20 or so yards from an ambulance with its lights on but no siren, aka, dead body on board. Then it happened, sirens behind me. An Atlanta PD car snaking across traffic to pull me over.

Officer P. Poole ungraciously informs me that I was tailgating an ambulance. Apparently, I should have been 25 yards and he proceeds to write me a ticket for "tailgating a corpse". Yes, I'm the only person in history to be fined for a moving violation involving a dead body. Jerk--I mean the cop, not the corpse, may he or she rest in peace.

Weekly Warning 10/19/08

Children are actually sent from outers space to test the limits of maternal patience.

Regan, Regan, Regan. My curious, beautiful, stubborn five year old daughter is now in my Sunday School class. For the past six weeks, she very covertly has been influencing her fifteen classmates.

Week 1: Regan announces that Jesus should be a fisher of both girl and boy trout.
Week 2: God does not like peanut butter treats but rather chocolate.
Week 3: Jesus should have included cookies when he fed 5000 people fish and bread.
Week 4: Poor Jesus, no one brought him a Nintendo DS in Bethlehem.
Week 5: The cry room is a perfect spot to hide from your mommy and daddy.
And the grand finale: Week 6: Regan recites her version of the Lord's Prayer.

"Our Farter, whose art's in heaven, hollow by my name, my kingdom come, my will be done, on earth and every where else, give me your daily Fred, and forget us our treasures as we forget others who treasure against us. And lead us not into the basement but liver us from MMs."

By the time she finished, her fifteen little followers who cannot remember my name after six weeks, were chanting "Our Farter" loudly. Great, I'm teaching kids that God has gas. And you should not go into the basement of houses, Fred apparently has been sold into slavery every day, and everyone should bow to Regan's will. Which has happened to her mini-cult followers.

Weekly Warning 10/12/08

Puppies have no control over their bladders.

Who can resist a baby wienie dog? A co-worker brought in her newly adopted puppy and of course, I immediately kidnap the cutie and hold it the entire staff meeting. My annual site visit from the state child abuse prevention office was later that morning so I needed some canine stress therapy.

Apparently, little wienie dog girl wanted me to accessorize so she peed on my shirt while she slept. Not much but enough to scream "Dog Urine".

Because I know and expect stuff like this to happen to me, I whipped out my extra shirt before the auditor arrived. Only by spraying Febreeze (also an emergency contigent) all over myself did I mask the smell of puppy pee.

FYI, the audit went fine and the puppy chewed only one part of my report.

Weekly Warning 10/5/08

Don't leave brightly colored Play-Doh on your fireplace hearth.

Regan did and Zack, our enormous Collie, wolfed them down like it was a hunk of pork butt. She not only left her clay but the four packs I bought for her teacher.

Never mind that Play-Doh wrappers are sprinkled around me house. I found a couple in my bed, on the couch and downstairs near my computer.

Never mind that I have to go buy more for the class.

What is really annoying is that a couple of days later, the crayons made their way through Zack and now our backyard has several mounds of fluorescent speckled poop. We have our own personal solid waste Aurora Borealis that smells three houses over.

Dave said at least we don't need flashlights to navigate the mind field.

Weekly Warning 9/28/08

On a day when everything that can go wrong does, a bird will poop on your leather handbag.

The kids were fighting like the North and the South. Regan activated my car alarm. The dogs were growling over a squirrel in the yard. I was tripping over empty Kroger bags that escaped their confinement. My keys were no where to be found. I WAS STRESSED.

So what does this deliquent blue jay do? That's right--use my new leather purse as his personal johnnie-on-the-spot. Somedays, you're the bird pooping and others, you're the Poopy Purse.

And the Winners are.....

Drumroooooollllllll.......

Drawn from a Walmart bag, the random winner of the "For the Fun of Knit" contest was Lil Knitter. She sent several people over from her blog which resulted in multiple entries (not personalities). The Rowen Denim will be shipped off to Mel's--destined to be made in something fabulous.

The strangest non-fiber related hobby was Allergicmom for her love of live action dress up at sci-fi conventions. Your package will remain a surprise until you open the box! Will it be yarn, stitch markers or some obscure Klingon delicacy? Who knows?

If y'all haven't heard from me, please email me your address so I can get your prizes off!

Weekly Warning 9/21/08

If you apply your makeup in the car, make sure you finish the job before you conduct a training.

Again, I was stressing (a reoccurring theme in my life lately). I was stopped at a particularly nasty red light when I decided to throw on my makeup. The light suddenly turned green and I was off. Then the train stopped me for a moment and out whipped my mascara and eyebrow pencil to darken my non-existent brow. I applied my makeup in bits and spurts until I reached my destination.

Halfway through the introductions, the 32 oz Diet Dr. Pepper that I gulped down made its way to my bladder and I went to the restroom.

Washing my hands, I looked in the bathroom mirror only to discover that I had only made up one of my eyebrows. I looked like a plastic surgery gone bad. However, my noticeable cowlick covered and complimented my absent eyebrow in a very becoming way.

Ike's a Jerk!

My entire extended family (about 3000 strong) lives in SE Texas in Jefferson, Orange and Jasper counties. Two of those counties, Jefferson and Orange, were under mandatory evacuation due to that jerky storm Ike. My hometown, Orange, is completely flooded--save the Der Wienerschnitzel!

All of my immediate family has checked in safe but extremely tired. They have generators and a loaded guns so they are fine for the present. I'm sure my numerous cousins are fine.

Please say a prayer for Texas! The picture on top of my blog is Wesley at one of the beaches in Galveston on Memorial Day of this year. Galveston holds a special place in my heart. It was the first beach I remember visiting. I hope Galveston will rebound just as well as the 1900 storm.

Weekly Warning 9/14/08

Wardrobe malfunctions are not limited to the Janet Jacksons of the world.

I had to really, really go to the bathroom one day while I waited for court case to start. I was a underpaid, overworked caseworker stuck in a hot juvenile court waiting room. My office required all women caseworkers to wear hose, heels and dresses/skirts. Never mind that the hose was chafing my thighs or my heels were rubbing blisters on my feet. I was dressed to the nines.

I snuck out and found a bathroom to do my bidness. Ladies, if you read this, you can understand the intense relief you feel when you peel off the hose and let your legs breathe. I did just that and I reveled in the coolness. I even went so far to splash cold water down my bra. I'm telling you it was hot. Georgia in August is not for the weak.

I stomp back to discover my seat was taken by my supervisor (the witch). Fifteen minutes go by and I'm thinking that bathroom break might have done the trick. I wasn't sweating at all.

I should have known something was up. I mean that literally. The office attorney grabbed me and told me my skirt was stuffed up inside my panty hose. So basically, I was displaying my white Lady Hanes bikini underwear and panty hose for all the criminals to view. And to think no one said a word for fifteen minutes including my hag supervisor.

So there, Janet Jackson. You may have flashed your boob to the world but the Juvenile Court of Hall County Georgia knows I wear clean underwear.

Patriot's Day 2008

I could not let September 11 go by without posting. In my mind's eye, I can still see the plane as it hit one of the Twin Towers and my eyes instantly tear up.

It is my fervant hope that this never happens again. And to all the law enforcement, firefighters, EMS and military, thank you for your service and sacrifice. My prayers are with all you and your family.

For the Fun of Knit Contest

I'm bored. So when I'm bored, I host a contest. For no reason whatsoever except I'm bored. So here's the contest...

What do you like to do besides knitting or fiber related? Nothing fiber related, zippo, nada, zilch. Personally I love to read and geocache but then again, I'm a geek.

Please post your answers here by 9/21. If you link on your blog, extra entry. Two prizes--one for a random drawing and the other for the strangest. Please no posting about how you like cook butt naked or anything that will cause me nightmares.

The prize for the random drawing will be five skeins of Rowan denim (100% cotton). Beautiful blue. It shrinks in length and fades just like jeans. For the strangest entry, a surprise!

Happy posting!!

Weekly Warning 9/7/08

While taking your grandma out to eat, zip your purse.

Thieves! Dirty, rotten, lying thieves! You don't want to put your grandmother in jail but her thievin' ways need to stop.

Dave and I took his 93 year old grandmother out to eat at the Blue Willow Inn. The buffet is legendary and I go just to drink their lemonade. If you've never been, go but don't mention my name.

After finishing off my first plate, I graciously ask Granny if she wants more so she doesn't have to walk anymore than she has too. She requests another plate but with two extra order of fried green tomatoes. I'm taken back. After all this woman weighs something like ten pounds soaking wet but being the nice girl but I head off.

After my second plate is demolished, I noticed Granny has beat me in devouring the second plate. I ask Granny if she'd like desert. She does--pecan pie and another order of fried green tomatoes. My radar blings but no one else finds this strange.

When we pay, Granny takes Dave and hoofs it outside, spreading the crowd with her mahogany cane. I pull out my card and out of my purse plops two orders of fried green tomatoes wrapped in a flimsy paper napkin. I don't know why Granny felt the need to shoplift fried green tomatoes. She was not hurting for money.

The hostess and I complete our transaction. Neither one of us mention the hunk of food slowly dripping grease on the cash register. It's the Southern version of the elephant in the room. The hostess drops a pen (rather calculated) and while she picks it up, I grab the napkin and stuff it in my purse.

When asked, Granny said she loves their tomatoes and could never fry them right so she's takes them to snack on during the week. Ever the Southern lady, Granny thanked me for my help and then had the temerity to ask why her tomatoes were squashed. Dave remarked that I should be happy it wasn't a bowl of gravy.

FYI, Regan whose middle name is Granny's recently threw a handful of peanuts in my purse at a Longhorn. Once again, Dave reminded me that it could have been applesauce.

Poem Meme

I was tagged by someone and I apologize because for the life of me, I don't remember who. But it was a Poetry Meme. What's your favorite poem and why? I've got a triple whammy. I'm a Mommy, a social worker and a Texan. Put these three things together and you have an empathetic know-it-all who wants to improve the world. I read this in ninth grade and it resonated with me. All these years and I can still recite it at the drop of a hat. Amazing and I still can't remember who tagged me.

Emily Dickinson was one strange chick but could she crank out some literature.

Part One:
Life VI
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

I challenge all who read this post to tag yourself and find the verse that speaks to you.

Weekly Warning 8/31/08

Nasal decongestants do not work as well as prescription pain killers for broken bones.

I dedicate this weekly warning to the "accident" that led me to knitting.

Three years ago on 8/27, I was tooling around a park on my mountain bike when I flipped the sucker going 20 miles an hour. I shattered my left wrist and broke my left elbow.

After the surgery the next day (a Saturday), my dear Nurse Ratchet (my darling hubby) administered a "pain killer" for my arm that night. He thoughtfully left the next dose on the counter. I woke up an hour later because my arm was throbbing in pain. Normally, I tolerate pain well. After all, I have had two c-sections and was driving a car three days later on both without any pain killers. Shhh, don't tell my doctor.

I moaned and impatiently waited two more hours for my next dose. I took it and fell asleep within a few minutes. A mere thirty minutes later, I woke up in pain. I was desperate--I even woke Dave up to take me to hospital for a morphine drip.

Dave got dressed and grabbed the prescription bottle. When he uttered, "Uh-oh", I knew it was not going to be good. He had been giving me my prescription allergy medication instead of my pain killers.

But some good came of the broken arm. My physical therapist suggested I take up knitting to loosen the wrist. And for two days after the surgery, I had no sinus headache.

Weekly Warning 8/24/08

If you run over a snake, they do not squash but rather flip up into the air and land on your windshield.

Using your windshield wipers only makes the snake angry and pushes the reptile closer to your driver's side window. Unless you have the reflexes of Superman, don't try to roll your window up. The snake does not like to get caught in the window. I'm sure the little forked tongue was cussing me out.

Stash Shawl

I'm trying to be very good, really I am. I'm slowly using up my enormous stash of yarn. I have frogged the Stolen Moments shawl. I just wasn't feeling the love. So I found a pattern for a scarf and tweaked it. Well, to be honest, I totally re-did it.



Using a worsted weight yarn (I think it was a Knit Picks or it may have been a Cascade wool) and size 19 straights, cast on 40 stitches.

Knit 3 rows
Row 4: K1, (YO, K2tog until you have one stitch left), K1
Row 5: K2, P36, K2
Row 6: K40
Row 7: K2, P36, K2

Repeat Rows 4-7 until you have your desired length.

Knit 3 final rows to finish. Block.

Shameless Contest Promotions Part II

Knit scarves for the Red Scarf Project. They distribute handmade scarves to foster kids in college.

Darcy is having a contest on her blog.

Knitting in Red Shoes has a wonderful contest.

Weekly Warning 8/17/08

While wearing a large foam turtle suit in 100 degree weather for several hours, don't put ice on your head.

The ice will melt, causing you to look like you peed in the turtle suit. This in turn will make all young children afraid of you when you're there to entertain kids.

Weekly Warning 8/10/08

Do not allow your children to bring more than one toy to a church service.

Regan, my lovely five year old daughter, brings a stuffed animal to Mass every time we go. Ordinarily, I encourage it because it's extremely difficult to pray and play thumb wars at the same time.

In the past, Regan has brought in Transformers, stuffed animals, and once her Anne Boleyn Barbie doll (with the head off) attired in a lady of the evening type outfit my mother in law bought. Ray has been calling it Anne but she is totally unaware why I call that particular doll Anne. I thought I saw the priest twitch when Regan wanted Anne blessed last month. I had a calm yet useful talk with Ray about bringing incomplete toys to church.

A couple of weeks she brought in a new stuffed animal--a Beanie Baby Goat as well as sneaking in Anne.

After Mass, Regan leaps out of the church and approaches the visiting priest--fortunately our regular priest was on vacation.

Here's a gist of the conversation:

Ray: "Look at my new toy [meaning the Beanie baby goat]. His name is Horny Goat."

The priest opens up his mouth and then closes it.

I finally get there after my stomach drops when I heard "Horny Goat". To my utter but not so surprising (after all Regan) astonishment, Anne Boleyn Barbie complete with feather boa is straddling "Horny Goat" in what might be construed as an intimate manner

Not wanting to make a scene, because a) Regan has no clue what "horny" means outside of having antlers, b) Ray also thinks Trashy Dressed Anne is merely using Horny has transportation and c) we are right outside a church, I usher her out while telling the priest that Wesley is waiting for us.

I'm sure Ray is the talk of the priest staff meeting this month and now has an entire chapter in priest school devoted to strange children and their freaky parents.

FYI--Dave has since found the head of Anne under Ray's bed and reattached head to body. I've convinced Ray to rename the goat Pointy. The infamous feather boa has mysteriously disappeared.

Secret Pal Package

Thank you, Chibi Wordsworth, aka my Secret Pal. I love it all.

Victory Scarf

While I haven't really posted a lot about my knitting recently, I, in fact, still do knit. I've been stuck doing baby caps for my work. Nothing really special about the pattern so there's not much to post.

I lost my scarf last spring. Actually, I am still kind of upset about it. It was the first thing I made for myself and I'm sure it's wasting away somewhere in a dump. Granted it wasn't the prettiest thing every knitted. In fact, some might consider it the scarf most likely to grace the Bride of Frankenstien's neck but I wore it proudly like a badge of honor.

So in memory of the atrocious acrylic (yes, I knit with acrylic and I even like some of it) scarf, I made a new one. However, this one was made with Twinkle Handknits 100% virgin wool in Dusty Pink. It was a dream to knit.

Without further ado, here is the Victory Scarf. I almost knit this entire scarf while waiting for the election results in Dave's bid for Board of Education.



I used size 19 needles and nearly two skeins of Twinkle Handknits bulky virgin wool. But any bulky yarn will do.

Cast on 12.

Knit 2 rows.

Row 3: K2, (YO, K2tog) repeat until you have two stitches left, k2
Row 4: Knit
Row 5: Repeat row 3
Row 6: Knit
Row 7: Knit
Row 8: Knit

Repeat Rows 3-8 until you get the length you want. Bind off.

You may want to block it a bit to stretch out yo's. I also slipped the first stitch of every row to tighten the edges.

Right now, a semi-matching cloche is in the works.

Weekly Warning 8/3/08

Cheap fruity wine from Walmart causes horrible hangovers.

That's why this weekly warning is late.

Weekly Warning 7/27/08

Dust under your furniture before you move the couch.

I knew there were dust bunnies the size of dinosaurs under my couch. The pair of fuzzy slippers and complete set of Spiderman dominoes didn't surprise me. Basically, I was shocked to find Jimmy Hoffa's body not under my couch.

When Dave and I picked up the couch to rearrange our living room, a streak of blue fuzz with a wagging whiplike appendage flashed under as we struggled to keep it from crashing down. Zack had spotted a two inch slice of rawhide and made a dash for it. Nevermind Zack cannot detect a 12 point buck wandering by our front door or a gaggle of religious zealots proclaiming that we're going to die tomorrow while parading down our driveway. But he can zero in on a minute piece of food.

To make matters worse, I cut my left pointy finger on a spring while holding the couch aloft and cannot knir nor typf.

Weekly Warning 7/20/08

When pulling up signs (such as political, garage sale, etc), please be careful that you don't grab a snake instead of the stake.

Being the considerate treasurer of divaD's campaign (see previous weekly warning), I decide to help pull up signs to declutter our beautiful community.

But the flimsy metal stakes can be tricky. Coupled with kudzu (a parasitic ivy that is rapidly covering the state of Georgia), I had to reach down and yank. I was rather surprised when the stake came up quickly and was about to throw it in V-ger's trunk when I realized the stake moved.

Yep, I had yanked up a king snake instead of the metal stake. Wailing does not even begin to describe the sound that came from me.

I hate politics.

Dave Won!!!

Yippee. The results just came in and Dave was elected the new school board rep for our district! He received 60% over his two opponents. I'm so proud of him!

Weekly Warning 7/13/08

Just because a truck driver honks at you, don't automatically assume it's your cleavage.

I was driving down the interstate in V-ger, our Silver Dodge Avenger with the sun roof open and jamming to, well, I'm not going to say because I'm embarrassed. Oh, all right, Rick Springfield's Jessie's Girl.

A trucker in a chicken truck passes me, honking and waving. I think, "Wow, this tank top must make me look busty." And I'm sort of flattered. I mean, maybe the gray in my hair doesn't show as bad as I think. The cowlick in my bangs is actually pretty. No one can see the giant deflated balloon that is my belly.

Another passes and honk. And then a couple of more. Now I'm getting mad. Who do these guys think I am? Some sort of desperate, easy gal? Some sex-starved individual?

When I get to my destination, I get out and my ego gets a large jab. Regan had switched all of Dave's BOE election magnets (and I have four on V-ger) upside down. The truckers were just pointing them out trying to help Dave. Who would vote for divaD for your school board representative if he can't spell his own name?

So in the end, I guess I won't be getting that phone call from Vogue but at least I can still vote for divaD.

PS Regan has not yet been put for adoption. Check back later for updates.

SP Question of the Week

1) Where is your favorite place to go for vacation/holiday?
2) Where is one place you’d like to go?

I absolutely love Charleston, SC. I also loved going back home to Texas to Galveston. Charleston for the sheer beauty and history and Galveston for the plain fun of it.

Both Dave and I really, really, really want to take several weeks and see Ireland and Great Britain. I don't know why but I've always been drawn to Ireland. Maybe I was a leprechaun in a former life.

Weekly Warning 7/6/08

Watch your cooling apple pie very carefully.

Fourth of July means good old apple pie, right? That's what I thought but in our household, the apple pie is complimented with a large dash of Collie. I'm getting ready to put the pie on the cooling rack when I had to leave the kitchen because of "bam" in the living room.

BIG, GIANT, FATAL errors on my part add up to Independence Day Mystery. Put on your Nancy Drew mask and let's reconstruct the crime.

1. The opportunistic Collie (Zack) who apparently is starving to death is in the kitchen
2. The defenseless apple pie who was minding its own business onto my stove
3. The clueless person (me) who thought the opportunistic Collie could be trusted because he did pass agility classes.
4. The pint-sized minion of the opportunistic Collie (Regan) who unwittingly played into Zack's monstrous paws.
5. The allegedly "cheerful" holiday family gathering which was about to start.

This all adds up to me screaming like one of the dumb blonde victims in a Friday the 13th flick.

I come back into the kitchen to find Zack licking Regan's sticky apple filling fingers--Exhibit A. A perfectly snout shaped hole in the middle of my pie--hmmm, Exhibit B. Dutch apple crumb topping ground into my floor in the shape of a canine print--Exhibit C. I think we have enough evidence to convict the Collie for Aggravated Assault on a Pastry. Regan should be charged with Accessory to Assault.

I never did find out what the "Bam" sound in the living room was. Methinks, there's another accomplice in the shape of an obese senior Australian Shepherd.

PS--You were right, Lil' Knitter.

Happy Independence Day!

For all US citizens overseas and here at home. May your hamburgers not flame up, your favorite beverage (beer, wine, or Diet Dr Pepper) be ice cold and your apple pie not be eaten by Collies.

you are lightgoldenrodyellow #FAFAD2

Your dominant hues are red and green, so you're definately not afraid to get in and stir things up. You have no time for most people's concerns, you'd rather analyze with your head than be held back by some random "gut feeling". Your saturation level is very low - you have better things to do than jump headfirst into every little project. You make sure your actions are going to really accomplish something before you start because you hate wasting energy making everyone else think you're working. Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

SP Question of the Week

1) What yarn (that you don’t have/haven’t used) would make your stash “complete”?
2) What yarn do you never want to be without?

I would love to knit quivet but that pesky food bill gets in the way.

My most favorite yarns in the whole wide world are and in no particular order

1. Fleece Artist (for the color)
2. Katsara Yarns (again the color)
3. Atacania Yarns from South America. They are complete joy to use.

Thanks to the Knit Wits of Georgia.

After my post about my new job as a social worker for pregnant women, my knitting group responded in a huge way. Hats and booties galore.

Now, off the knitting topic, I want to ask all parents--what concrete information could you have used when you had a baby? I revamping the "welcome" packet for new moms and want some imput from experienced parents. Please take a moment and post your idea in the comments section. Thanks a bunch.

Weekly Warning 6/29/08

If you or your spouse seek public office, don't put magnets advertising their name on your car.

I get road rage. I admit it. This is why I never carry weapons (my Swiss Army knife doesn't count). This is another reason I swear in six different languages (English, Spanish, French, Korean, American Sign and some Hmong). My kids think I'm muttering nonsense and because I vent my frustration in Poncho Villa's language, I don't use obscene hand gestures (well, unless I'm signing)

You probably see how this week's warning is shaping up. So until 7/15, I'm an auto angel. To reward myself, I got a supersize cherry Dr. Pepper.

SP Question of the Week

What would you consider the perfect amount of stash?

Wow, never really thought that big. Honestly, I have just the right amount of yarn but please don't think I would refuse any but I think I have enough.

SP Question of the Week

As a kid, what did you look forward to most about summer vacation/break/holiday?

Being able to go outside all day without having to do homework. I'd get up at the crack of dawn, watch a little of Casper the Friendly Ghost, climb trees, catch crawdads, chase my brothers with slingshots and generally cause mayhem on Bruce Lane in Orange, Texas. Oh and I was always barefooted. Sometimes when I really felt mean, I'd hide my sister's diary or taunt Ms. Ramey's evil wienie dog, Xanadu, by making faces at him through the fence.

Whew, busy little delinquent, wasn't I?

I'm Big Clumsy Puppy.

Stolen from Lil' Knitter....

Weekly Warning 6/22/08

Always carry your identification in when you're visiting an in-patient mental hospital.

One late evening in February, I got called out on a snowy evening to GMHI (Georgia Mental Health Institute) because I had the double misfortune of being a social worker and carrying the on-call emergency pager for my county. GMHI was the state run mental health hospital in Atlanta. One of my kids had threatened to do something to someone and was "10-13ed" to GMHI. Because the state had custody, the on-call caseworker--me--had to sign committment papers NOW as the intake worker put it.

Looking like death warmed over at 2 a.m. while wearing Scooby Doo pajamas top and flip flops does not inspire professional confidence but I had been rudely awakened to drive 60 miles into Atlanta.

I arrive without fanfare to sign the papers only to wait for an hour in the waiting room with "my" charge who called me every name in the book. I pointedly ignored the comments about my sex life and read a two year AMA journal.

When the attendent called out my kid's name (we'll go with Carrie) to go to her room, I followed him. Carrie did not do the same.

We got to the door and Mr. Warm and Fuzzy Attendent slaps some restraints on me. At this juncture, I wake up and tell the guy I'm not "Carrie" but rather her social worker. He ignores me and pulls me toward the hospital. When I resist, he demands to see my state ID (which is out in my car). Then he tells me that he'll sedate me if I don't shut up.

Carrie is nearly on the floor laughing. She finally informs the medic of the situation.

Scary that I had to rely on a teen age terrorist to bust me out of a mental hospital because I didn't have an ID proving I was the sane one. Which when you think about it, working social services for 12 years is not exactly normal.

Shameless Contest Promotions

Darcy has some fabulous prizes.

Knit and Purl Mama has a meatball guessing contest. Guess how many meatballs on a plate for the prize.

Deb's blog has a wonderful prize--a handmade shopping bag.

Blind Purls is giving away books.

A Verb for Keeping Warm is having a comments contest on where you knit in public yesterday.

Good Luck and may the Yarn Be With You.

Weekly Warning 6/15/08

Volunteering too much during the week causes injury by Sharpie.

It's a match made in National Enquirer heaven.

This week from 9-3 was Boy Scout Camp. Somehow, I was Craft Leader. And I know what you're thinking. What person in their right might would designate Christy as craft leader? It wasn't too bad. I help to make 60 walking sticks and only tied my fingers together twice. The hot glue gun splattered onto my fingers once. That silly popsicle stick frame didn't mean to gouge my eye.

Then it was onto Vacation Bible School at my church where I was a kindergarten leader from 5:00-8:30.

Finally, I helped Dave's campaign for school board by putting up signs on roadways between roadtrips to Walmart for twine and Hobby Lobby for pin backings.

Where does the felonious Sharpie come into play? I loaded all my supplies into the car. Actually, to be honest, I threw all the supplies in the car. I was hot, the kids were cranky and all we wanted to do was go home.

Well, got home and realized I smelled an open Sharpie. Looked everywhere and I turned my head. Looking like a huge hickey, I had a glob of red Sharpie marks on my neck. When I threw the supplies in, one came uncapped and landed in the tiny little section between my seat and the headrest with the felt end sticking out. And as we know, Sharpies are permanent or at least last a whole long time on skin.

Forget about gun safety. We need education on Sharpie safety.

SP Question of the Week

What is my favorite summertime drink?

I love a good iced sweet tea but I'm very picky. It needs to be made with Tetley tea and sugar. Not Lipton and/or Splenda.

Of course, cold Diet Dr. Pepper in a can is wonderful.

But the best is just plain cold water.

Weekly Warning 6/8/08

Some dogs secretly possess thumbs.

I love all dogs--big dogs, small dogs, hairy dogs, stinky dogs, goofy dogs, dogs that steal your pork chops right out of the marinade. Well, not so much about the pork chop one but you get the idea.

Zack, the wonder Collie, is a big baby--a seventy pound baby. Our old Aussie, Zoe, to put it bluntly, is evil. The animal kingdom fears her. She is training Zack to be a minion.

Zoe and Zack "play fight". To an outsider, it looks like we're grooming an overweight senior dog and lanky, goofus Collie as dog fighters. But they are so entertaining to watch and we're too poor to go to the movies, we let them horse around.

Every once in a while, it gets rough and Zack flees to the safety of his metal crate. He did it today and Zoe was barking wildly (probably swearing at him in Caninish) while Zack whimpered. I went downstairs and Zack had somehow opened the crate lever and locked himself in. Or Zoe whipped out her thumbs to teach the whippersnapper a lesson. Who knows?

I do know I will keep my car keys with me at all times now.

Total Time Suck

Found this site and played around for awhile.

In blue are the states I have visited and/or not been arrested. In yellow are the states who run away when I try to visit. The lone state in red is where I've visited and almost got arrested.

In my defense, Mr. Lake Charles, LA police officer was a bit rude and nasty. I mean why put a railroad track across the street from the McDonald's and then proceed to stop innocent college students trying to get a Quarter Pounder in the middle of the night as they fly over the tracks in their 1984 Ford Escort ruining their suspension?

I'm a Workin' Girl.

Well, not in the sex trade sense but I am now the new part time First Steps Coordinator for the Treehouse in Winder, GA. I'll be providing referrals and support to new mothers 20 hours a week starting Monday, 6/16. Back in the social work saddle, so to speak.

What does this have to do with knitting? First Steps provide "goodie" bags to the new moms. I've put an all call out to my fellow yarn groupies to help provide baby caps to the newborns. There's not a whole lot--ten per month so if you feel the need to donate (and it's tax-deductible), please email me and I'll get the details. Any neutral color knit or crocheted in an acrylic yarn is fine.

Easy Caramel Pie for Ray's Birthday

Raising Regan has not and will not be stress-free. What five year old girl refuses a princess birthday cake from Publix? Why does she insist on a "new" pie? Of course, I try several recipes and the official taste-tester, Ray, doesn't like any. So as a last resort, I threw what little ingredients I had and just when I thought I was due for dose of valium, she likes this pie.

2 graham cracker crusts
1 large tub of Cool Whip, thawed
1 jar of caramel ice cream topping
1 package cream cheese, softened
1 large jar of sweetened condensed milk
A bag of pecans (optional)
1 stubborn five year old blonde czarina

Cream softened cream cheese until smooth and butter-like. Mike Cool Whip, caramel, sweetened condensed milk until smooth Add pecans (if you want them). Pour into the two graham cracker crusts. Allow the blonde czarina to lick the bowl or you'll be beheaded. Chill for a couple of hours.

Weekly Warning 6/1/08

When traveling with young kids, be sure to bring an extra set of underwear that's in easy reach.

After FIFTEEN straight hours (yes, you read right)in a van with two children, things can, well, get tense and stressful. Yelling and feet stomping are the norm and the children were not much better either.

We roll into Pintlala, Alabama looking for a restroom and/or Burger King. Preferably a restroom because Wesley is bouncing in his seat from having to pee. We find a restroom and Wesley completes his business. I buckle Wesley up and turn to Regan. She promptly spills her rainbow slushie all over me. I look like an escapee from the Lucky Charms factory.

I packed an extra set of clothes for both kids in my tote for such emergencies but did I pack for myself? Nope, no, nada. My suitcase is, of course, on the bottom of the luggage pile. So I had to sit in a freezing pile of melting, sticky slushie goo drenching my pants and shirt all the way to Galveston, TX. I also didn't notice the slushie spillover onto my purse and brush. Did you know cherry syrup, while it smells good, makes your hair stand up like you just sprayed four cans of Aqua Net on it?

When people at a truck stop look at you funny and give you a wide berth, you know it's not a good thing.

Secret Pal Swap Questionnaire

1. What is/are your favorite yarn/s to knit with? What fibers do you absolutely *not* like? I like all yarn except scratchy. Ick, ick, ick. I'm partial to alpaca but will use everything.

2. What do you use to store your needles/hooks in? Knit Picks are in their case, lovingly put away. I have a tool box for my straights and three drawer storage for my notions.

3. How long have you been knitting & how did you learn? Would you consider your skill level to be beginner, intermediate or advanced? I've been knitting for almost four years. I'm a knitting mutt. I learned to cast on and knit at a LYS, purl with a friend and bind off with another. An elderly lady taught me several years ago but it didn't "take" at the time. I'm an intermediate knitter.

4. Do you have an Amazon or other online wish list? No

5. What's your favorite scent? I love lavender and roses. Not too heavy. I like Brighton Laugh Cologne and Philosophy's Amazing Grace

6. Do you have a sweet tooth? Favorite candy? Does a whole mouth count? Love, love, love chocolate.

7. What other crafts or Do-It-Yourself things do you like to do? Do you spin? I tried soapmaking but it didn't hold my interest and the second degree burns on my hands didn't help either. Decoupage is the devil's medium. So the answer is no, I'm not crafty elsewhere. I don't spin either as my children would completely tear up any spinning wheel.

8. What kind of music do you like? Can your computer/stereo play MP3s? (if your buddy wants to make you a CD) I love Celtic and soft rock (CCR, the Eagles, etc) I do have a cd and an mp3.

9. What's your favorite color(s)? Any colors you just can't stand? I love muted beach colors like blue, green, taupe, peach, etc. I don't like bold colors like orange, lime green, etc.

10. What is your family situation? Do you have any pets? Married with two human children and two canine children. The canines are evil and the children are lovable but destructive.

11. Do you wear scarves, hats, mittens or ponchos? Yes to all.

12. What is/are your favorite item/s to knit? Scarves and shawls and hats.

13. What are you knitting right now? 2 shawls.

14. Do you like to receive handmade gifts? Yes

15. Do you prefer straight or circular needles? Bamboo, aluminum, plastic? KP Options all the way. I feel like a cheerleader.

16. Do you own a yarn winder and/or swift? Yes to both.

17. How old is your oldest UFO? I recently frogged back all the UFOs but I do have a sock that needs completing. It's about four months old.

18. What is your favorite holiday? Christmas followed by Halloween

19. Is there anything that you collect? Scooby Doo, Texas stuff.

20. Any books, yarns, needles or patterns out there you are dying to get your hands on? What knitting magazine subscriptions do you have? Creative Kntting is my only subscription. I have too many books.

21. Are there any new techniques you'd like to learn? I just would like to improve my lace knitting.

22. Are you a sock knitter? What are your foot measurements? I'm a novice sock knitter. I've tried to get addicted but I don't see it.

23. When is your birthday? Early March

24. Are you on Ravelry? If so, what's your ID? Hissyknit on KR and Ravelry.

Weekly Warning 5/24/08

When packing for a trip, do not allow your kids to help unless you watch them..

Since summer vacation has arrived, I wanted to help all the parents and parents-to-be.

Regan (of course) decided to help Mommy pack for our trip to Charleston last year. She was showing me how she dressed her stuffed dog, Zack (yes, she named her stuffed animal after our live dog, Zack) in her old bikini. She chattered about on about something while handing me the clothes I had folded.

Things were dandy until we arrived at the hotel to unpack. I unfolded my favorite yellow shirt when something clinked onto the bed and rolled on the floor. I reached under the hotel bed--brave, I know. There, uncapped, was my favorite lipstick.

With my stomach sinking down to my feet, I looked at the shirt. Streaks of mauve criss-crossed the top.

Regan came bouncing into the room. I questioned her very quietly. She smiled and said she didn't want me to be without my make-up so she put my lipstick inside the shirt and wasn't I proud of her? I knew I couldn't be angry because she wanted to help so I politely said thank you. She be-bopped out while I continued to unpack. Every one of my clothes had make-up folded into them. Some had caps; some did not. Suffice to say, I have a reputation in Charleston as the nutcase who wears Picasso inspired lipstick shirts and foundation blue jean shorts.

I'm packing alone this year to Texas.

Thank you, Amanda!

Just got my Knitted Shawls book from Amanda. Thank you--I love it.

Bad Christy! Bad!

I've been a bad blogger. I'm very sorry. School is ending in our district and I've been subbing full time. We're also planning a vacation back home to Texas later this summer as well as Scout Camp, Karate classes for Regan and Dave's campaign for school board. I get home and there's underwear (clean to be exact) to be folded and the knucklehead Collie is moltening his winter coat in droves. To be honest, I'm exhausted.

One of the non-working, un-parent things Dave and I have done was to kidnap Dave's brother-in-law's stuffed Opus. We're sending anonymous emails to Skip holding Opus ransom.



Wish me luck! I have a job interview next month. It's a part time social work job working with new mothers and volunteers at a local child advocacy center.

Weekly Warning 5/18/08

You don't really need five gallons of gas to light a fire.

I claim complete innocence in this instance because this warning is totally from my dear husband, Dave. This is his first weekly warning.

Ten years ago, we bought our first house and Dave was going to burn some leaves. Though we were still newlyweds, I already experienced the inherent genetic male propensity toward fire and knew trouble was brewing. (Sounds kind of frou-frou, doesn't it? I found a new site that changes all my words to sound like I have a doctorate!!). In short, Dave and his father are fascinated with fire. Some throwback from their early caveman days. My father-in-law, Pop Pop, once held a lighted match in the mouth of a natural gas line to see if gas was coming out. I believe he was on his fourth beer at the time.

Dave throws a match on the gas-drenched dry leaves. At first, nothing happened and Dave leans in to see if the match went out. In that split second, a large backdraft worthy of Ron Howard and some special effects team whooshs toward Dave. His meager garden hose is no match for the inferno. Fortunately, the gas had burned itself out already as well as Dave's face hair (eyebrows). He didn't have to shave for a week.

Makes you marvel that Dave is still alive ten years later with no third degree burns on his body. He does have poison ivy scars (yes, you read that right--scars from poison ivy). Please join us in pray for Wesley. We hope the fire stupidity does not pass down to him.

Bunch o' Contests

Createcraft is having a contest about the reasons behind some of the blog names. I threw a huge temper tantrum during my early knitting days. I had dropped a stitch which resulted in a big honking hole in the scarf. My husband said I threw a "hissyknit" instead of a hissy fit.

Strings and Purls is also sponsoring a contest about some beautiful yarn.

Head on over to enter.

Lottery--here I come.

I won two more blog contests. Maybe my luck is changing and I need to go buy some lottery tickets.

Amanda is sending me a Knitted Scarves book and I've got needles on the way from Cass. Thank you, ladies. You have made my wedding anniversary/Mother's Day

Weekly Warning 5/11/08

First of all, Happy Mother's Day to all! Especially to my totally demented mom and mother-in-law extraordinaire who makes a NASCAR race seem like a Sunday drive to church.

This weekly warning is dedicated to moms of all kinds (stay-at-home, working outside the home, adoptive, single, married, green with pink polka dots, in short, every mom).

Never go out of town and get drunk unless you want more kids.

Dave and I finally figured out why we were always came back with a long-term, tax-deductible souvenir from our vacations. Getting tipsy on your trips to the beach results in the loosening of eggs from your ovaries.

After chasing several mixed drinks down in Charlotte, NC, I became pregnant with Wesley. Regan resulted from a trip to a winery in St. Augustine, FL.

So take it from me, don't drink and vacation unless you want children. If you must get a souvenir, go for the obligatory keychain or the ugly tourist teeshirt.

PS--I would get tipsy on the beach again for my two little kids.

Weasel Family Picture

My sister-in-law, Tina is incredibly talented. Her eye for light is phenomenal as well as her ability to capture a family. You would never know that two seconds before this picture was snapped, Regan had been throwing an unholy fit. The back of her pretty white shirt was covered in grass stains because she refused to let me comb her hair.

We had to get pictures made because Dave is running for the Walton County Board of Education. I'm so proud of his courage and compassion for doing this.

Secret Pal 12 Starting

Go to the Secret Pal 12 blog and check back for the official sign ups! You will have a blast. I had more fun than what was legal in Georgia.

Weekly Warning 5/4/08

Be very clear when ordering food from people who don't speak your language.

This is an oldie but a goodie. I remembered this only after a Ravelry thread in the Texas Expat group.

In Texas at Dairy Queen, there was a sandwich called the Dude. It was a huge country fried steak slapped between two pieces of bread. Throw some cheese on it with a cherry Dr. Pepper and you have nirvana on a bun.

Now, let me explain, I had and still have a Texas twang, not too bad but people from Georgia immediately know I'm not local the minute I say, "Hey, y'all." In addition, I still sprout Texasisms like "drunker than Cooter Brown" or he got a "DWI" or "the 'Boys (or 'Stros)" are gonna be great this year or "let's go wrap a house." See below for interpretations. So between my twang and my local Texasisms, I do run into problems.

Anyway, twenty years ago I pull in the drive through of my local Georgia DQ with a craving for the Dude. I absently order a naked Dude with cheese and cherry in my DP. When the lady asked me to pull forward, I didn't hear the nervous twitch in her Middle Eastern accent.

Bless her heart, she opened the drive through window to peer at me with fright. She asked to repeat and I did. Never possessing a font of patience or tact (especially when the food craving hits), I lean forward to again repeat this time more urgently and loudly.

Just then the manager (who also appeared Middle Eastern) appears. The cashier and the manager bicker in a foreign language. Personally I didn't care but where was my Dude?

The manager, now very red-faced almost to the point of cardiac arrest, inquired about my order.

When I tell him I wanted a plain old Dude with nothing on, he stiffens up and says "We do not have such things here and we run a clean business."

It was only then when I realized they thought I was there to pick up an old guy with no clothes on for some casual sex. In addition, I had the poor taste to ask for a cherry in my Dr. Pepper.

I eventually left with no Cherry Dr. Pepper or Dude because they were about to call to the police to arrest me for solicitation. Apparently, they don't have the "Dude" on their menu.


Quick interpretations:
"Drunker than Cooter Brown": You are so drunk you don't know your name. The Cooter Brown analogy is good for describing:
a) ugly people
b) mean guys
c) just all round wastes of God's time

"DWI": Driving While Intoxicated. In Georgia, it's called a DUI (driving under the influence)

"The 'Boys and 'Stros": The Dallas Cowboys and the Houston Astros

"Wrapping a house": Using a vast amount of toilet paper usually swiped from fast food restuarants or schools to artisically drape your high school enemy's front yard. This might be paired with Cooter Brown's alcoholic consumption from above.

Spouse Meme

Kimberly tagged me with a spouse meme!

Where did you meet? It was in March, 1994. I was working a part time job at Eckerd and he was a new manager. When I walked in to start my shift, I noticed the new People magazine was in. I started reading it and Dave was a sweetie to let me finish. And he didn't even fire me.

How long did you date? About 1 1/2 years. We got married about 5 months afterward

How old is he? He is 41. One year and one month older than me.

Who eats more? Depends on what we're eating. If it's sweet, I'm the pig. If it's fried, he's the hog.

Who said “I love you” first? I did about three months after we started dating. Then the fear of "OH MY GOSH" came into his eyes and he immediately left that night. Talk about throwing cold water on someone.

Who is taller? Dave. I'm a midget in in-law family of abnormal giants.

Who sings better? Dave has a wonderful voice. Me, I can't carry a tune in a bucket

Who is smarter? We're both bright in our own spots. Dave is very technical minded (aka computer geek) while I can pick up new skills very quickly.

Whose temper is worse? Well, I can snap if someone looks at me funny but I get over it quickly. Dave is very slow to anger but God help the fool who angers him.

Who does the laundry? Dave does about 75% and I'll do the rest under gun point.

Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? Facing the bed? Dave

Who pays the bills? Me and I whine the entire time. It' a wonder he's not divorced me yet.

Who cooks dinner? Both of us do.

Who drives when you are together? Dave b/c I drive like a maniac and he's always hanging to his seatbelt.

Who is more stubborn? Me.

Who kissed whom first? I think we both did. Our noses boinked.


Who is the first to admit to being wrong? Dave. I tell you he's a saint.

Whose parents do you see the most? Every Friday night, it's a standing eat out dinner with the in-laws. My mom is in Texas and my dad died several years ago. So either way, it's hard to see my parents a lot.

Who proposed? Dave did. We were at a steakhouse on a Friday night 11/22/96 when he had our waitress briing out a giant chocolate chip cookie with "Marry me, Christy" written in icing on it. He held the ring out over the cookie. The entire restuarant apparently knew about this and when I said yes, everyone applauded.

What’s his best physical attribute? I love his smile and hairy chest.

Who has more friends? Dave. I'm a bit anti-social.

What are you most proud of him for? He is totally self taught with computers. He never took one class yet he's one of the most knowledgeable computer people I know. He also is one of the sweetest and honest guys I've ever met.

Who has more siblings? Oh, that'd be me. Six brothers and sisters. He's got a paltry group of three sibs.

Who wears the pants in the family? I think we both share the pants. Not that I fit into his jeans because that would mean I need to diet.

My tagees? Lil Knitter, Knitsabella, Tiffany, Crazzy Bunny and Cindy

Apparently, I'm having a good day as a Mommy.

What's Your Supermom Strength?

My Result: Bottomless Devotion

There's no doubt about it: Your world revolves around your kids, and love is evident in almost everything you do for them, whether you're making their school lunches, videotaping their school performances — or pulling them in for a great big hug.


You've probably got a bit of a traditional streak and may have a somewhat old-fashioned approach to parenting (such as trying to wrangle everyone together to eat dinner as a family every night). Your friends and family may tease you a bit about how much you protect your kids — and it's true that you're a bit of a mama bear inside; you're likely to take your kids' sides when they fight with their friends or get in trouble in school. But everyone admires the warmth you exude, and your unshakable belief in your children.

What are you?
http://web.tickle.com/jumpto?test=supermomogt&c=50652

And the picture of the day (well, evening)...right before a thunderstorm...

Weekly Warning 4/27/08

Be very specific when you tell your child to put something on.

Regan (the future Sister Regan Claire of St. Paula of Perpetual Pain in the Bottom Convent) showed up in my living room, bee-bopping in her roller skates completely au naturale. Wearing nothing but her skates and a grin.

"Put something else on." I thought I displayed remarkable restraint but I did roll my eyes.

You have to understand this is somewhat normal behavior in my household. No one really raises an eyebrow at what my children do anymore. If it isn't hurting anything or illegal, we brush it off and hope the kids permanently block out their childhood or at least until they are legal adults.

Dave was reading the police blotter of our local newspaper looking for relatives or the latest drunk in public charges. Wesley was no where to be found. He was probably trying to sell himself on Ebay. The Collie flicked his tail in annoyance because his nap was interrupted. The old Aussie groaned and rolled over off the fireplace to lumber to calmer rooms. Apparently, I was the only one who showed a reaction.

Ray comes back in four minutes--wearing her trusty roller skates and a Spiderman Mask and still naked. Secret super hero identity, perhaps Naked Arachnid Child? A nudie conversion of "Super Hero Girl" (see previous entry for a picture Regan's earlier hero incarnation)?

"Regan. Cover yourself up!" My restraint was wearing thin and I had dropped a stitch.

"How did you know it was me?" Regan asks puzzled. How could she honestly believe I don't recognize that paper white butt and flowing blond hair? She didn't wait for an answer as her maniacal laughter echoes down the hall. From what other parents tell me, it only gets worse.

Stan Lee never had to put up with this behavior from Peter Parker. On the other hand, it's probably behavior best suited for a villain.

Contest Winners!

Random winner is Kitten with a Whiplash. The Kitten is getting the four skein prize.

My knitting group could not decide a clear winner of the strangest weekly winner among all the entries. Three entries received the same amount of votes. I had to abstain because I loved them all.

The winners are: Twins 2005, Crazzy Bunny, Dove Knits

I've got to figure out all the prizes now. One of the winners will get the Louet Flare and Andes Wool. The other two will get equally lovely prizes.

Congrats to all the winners and thanks for making me feel not so strange.

Sunsets, Projects and Goons, OH MY!

Inspired by Lil' Knitter, I started taking pictures (not professionally or anything). I have a digital camera but it's rarely used. So I figured why not?


A sunset from my deck a few evenings ago...


My current project in some yarn I dug up from my stash. Who knows where I got it from but I think it's Knit Picks something or other....Stolen Moments Wrap.

And finally so you can sleep peacefully tonight knowing the world is safe from evil felines and mean Mommies (me):

SUPER HERO GIRL to the rescue!!! And Ray gave herself the name...


She is toting an orange cone she lifted from the local soccer field (it's back now), her favorite blanket, her cat eye sunglasses, and a movie "Cars" hoodie towel. The girl is a total loon, I tell you.

Jeez, I need to go to Confession.

Created by OnePlusYou

Weekly Warning 4/19/08

Don't talk to guys dressed like the Statue of Liberty.

You would think that is a no-brainer but nooooooo, I made the mistake of saying "Hi" to an embattled middle aged, toga attired employee of a tax preparer who was holding a large sign advertising their fast refunds. His compatriot, Uncle Sam, was apparently oogling a pizza delivery girl and too busy to do anything else.

After Lady Liberty snarled a short reply to my friendly hello, I realized well, he's embarrassed. But that is not an excuse to be rude. I then pointed out to my children especially Wesley that you might end up having to don a sheet and a Styrofoam headpiece if you don't stay in school and listen to Mommy.

Our not so proud National Monument impersonator huffed and puffed. As my kids and I walked away, Wesley remarked on how cool it would be to do that job. Great, my son aspires to be a disgruntled statue in drag.

Contest for the Strange & Unusual

As I look back upon all the weekly warnings (less than three months so far), I realize that I should just pitch a tent and begin life as a carnie. I never knew how strange my life is until I wrote some (note: only some) of it down.

To highlight all of the strange, Twilight Zone moments of my life, I'm hosting a contest.

To enter, just tell me your favorite weekly warning (date only is fine) as well as one of your versions of the weekly warnings (airing of your weekly warning is totally optional). I'll draw names out of a hat. Or maybe the bearded lady will. You can link if you want for an extra drawing.

Now for the exciting part--the prizes. First place (hat drawn for those with good luck): three skeins of Louet Flare Elegance in pinks/greens/blues and two skeins of Andes wool in a heathery purple/cream. And the prize to your strangest warning (my knitting group will judge) two skeins of Gjestal Ullteppegarn in red and two skeins of it in brown. It's from Norway and it's 100% wool.

Contest ends on 4/25 at 4 p.m. EST. Non-bloggers are welcome but you'll need to post your email or at least email me yours!

One of the Ugliest Things I've Seen

Now, don't scream or close your browser and pardon this snarky post. What's even scarier are that model's toes. It looks like shortened dragon talons sticking out ready to pounce. Or she's trying to free herself by jumping out of the "socks".

But if strange is your thing, you can buy the pattern to knit these here for a mere $7.99. Yes, YOU have to pay to knit these things--not the other way around.

White Chocolate Orange Bread

Super easy and everyone will think you're a genius. I made this up yesterday so the recipe is still fresh in my stale mind. One loaf was devoured by my horde of children and the other is going to the teachers at the school to thank them for coming back after spring break.

1 box of butter yellow cake mix
1 cup water
1/4 orange juice
1/3 cup vegetable oil
3 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 bag white chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350. Grease and flour two bread tins

Pour cake mix, water, OJ, oil, vanilla in large bowl. Mix well until smooth. Add chocolate chips.

Pour evenly into the two prepared tins and bake for 40 minutes or until top is springy.

You can use a lemon flavored cake mix or any that will go with white chocolate.

You can add a glaze or if you're really lazy like me, microwave a container of frosting for 15 seconds. Instant pourable glaze. I don't think this needs a glaze because it's yummy on its own.

Weekly Warning 4/13/08

Check your kids' socks before you wash and dry them.

I always check the pockets of the jeans but it never occurred to me to look in socks.

I was washing whites and I don't know who the guilty kid was but they apparently felt the need to collect crayons. Some latent psychological need, perhaps? Some fetish on hording? An evil plot to drive Mommy insane? I betting on the the last.

I pull out the whites to throw in the dryer when I discover waxy green and red stripes on my Victoria Secret's. I know I never buy any undergarments that resemble a Christmas present. Upon further investigation, Dave's formerly white tees are also punctuated with colorful blobs.

Like an idiot, I assumed the damage was done. But, oh no, Crayola's plot to drive me to a straight jacket went deeper.

Applying heat to crayons meltsthe horrid little sticks of insanity. I know that and I'm sure you know that. But did you know rapidly cooling melted crayons stick to the inside of your dryer like brick mortar? Did you also know the crayon is impossible to get out completely out of socks? Did you know the local landfill is now filled with pairs of wax filled, colored socks? Did you know you can write me in care of the local mental hospital?

I just hope the doctors don't have a art therapy that includes crayons.

This is after four Dr. Peppers...

72 words

Speed test

Mojita Cake

At church last month, all the religious education classes presented a report on a country that benefits from Operation Rice Bowl. The classes also prepared a dish native to that country. One classs did India an and made samosas (ooohh, very good) Then there was one report on Cuba accompanied by a Mojita Cake. It was fantabulous!!!! The teachers were kind enough to give me the recipe.

20 ozs crushed pineapple, undrained
2 tablespoons lime juice
1 box angel food cake mix
8 ozs reduced fat cream cheese
1/4 cup limeade from concentrate
4 tablespoon powdered sugar
1 teaspoon rum extract
2-4 teaspoons rum (they left this part out of the cake served to the kids)
8 ozs Cool Whip, thawed
Coconut for garnish (I have to leave this part out for Dave)

Preheat oven to 350.

Spray Pryex dish with Pam. Mix pineapple, lime juice and cake mix together until well blended. Pour into Pyrex dish and bake 20-25 minutes. Cool completely.

For topping, mix cream cheese, limeade and powdered sugar. Then fold in Cool Whip, rum extract and rum. Spread over cake. Top with coconut if desired.

Really, really light cake but very good.

Making A Difference

I was subbing in a fifth grade special ed class. All the kids had been identified by teachers as ADHD or some emotional based disorder. Toward the end of the class, I had pulled out my knitting while the five kids were packing up or finishing their classwork. One kid who had been very quiet came up and very shyly asked what I was doing. I told him and let him touch the yarn.

I asked him if he wanted to try it. I knew I could not teach him how to knit if five minutes but bless his heart, he was actually talking to me after forty five minutes of just sitting there struggling with math (and unfortunately, I have problems explaining math also).

In five minutes, he was knitting like a pro! I had never seen anyone pick up knitting that fast. When I told him that, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. I gave him some yarn and told him to knit with pencils.

I told the regular special ed teacher about it and she got very excited. It seems this kid had been struggling all year and had problems with concentration, etc.

With her permission, I gave the kid some new yarn and needles. I am just stoked about this.

PS I had posted this on a knitter's forum and some people inferred that I was trying to interfere with the kid's IEP or that I knew better than the teachers. I don't pretend to know about the child's problems but I just wanted to point out that knitting can make a difference in a child's day. Who knows? Maybe this kid will grow up to be a famous knitting designer.

Weekly Warning 4/6/08

Don't let your four year old daughter apply Barbie make-up on herself, the dog, Star Wars figurines or you for that matter.

Ray's godfather, Uncle Oool (as she calls him--his name is Allen), gave Ray a Barbie/Princess makeup set for Christmas. Beware all parents, this item should be banned as a hazardous material suitable for terrorists. I'm sure you've seen it. Small cubes of hair glitter, five colors of nail polish, two glittery lip glosses and four heart containers of gooey neon eye color. The jerk who invented this and then sold it to Mattel needs to be taken out and dolled up.

As I type this, I have a lime green smear across one eye and one fuschia across the other. Ray's toenails are painted a blue and violet. The color plays off the streak of blue nail color in the back of her hair and three different glitters on the left side of her head.

Every time Zack wags his tail, the lip gloss on the tip glints in the light and attracts the numerous dust bunnies to the tip.

Not to be outdone, Wesley's Anakin Skywalker action figure models this season's colors. No wonder he turned to the Dark Side. He needed a hood to hide his atrocious makeover.

Warning: Soap Box Post

I'm about to get on my soap box so if you want to skip this installment of whine, please do.

I hate, I mean really hate people who abuse animals. Recently, a couple of people were arrested for running a puppy mill in a neighboring county. It was the largest seizure of animals in Georgia history. The jerk-offs had 300 dogs all in various stages of neglect and abuse.

If you have continued to read this, you probably will want to pick up a pitchfork and torch to storm the criminals' trailer (like Frankenstein's castle). Please consider writing your legislators about strengthening or enforcing current animal protection laws. Or volunteer with an animal rescue group.

Okay, I'm done and I'm off the box but I'm still looking for a knitting pattern for a noose.

Who Knew?

Your Native American Name Is...

Kimi Pakuna Your name means: Secret Deer Jumping Downhill

What's Your Native American Name?

And I thought it was Graceless Klutz Falling off Bicycle

Law of Commerical Screwism

Just when you find a yarn/moisturizer/cologne/stitch markers you have fallen in love with, the company that produces the aforementioned and much loved product discontinues it. In order to acquire it, you become a search engine junkie, relentlessly pursuing links in a vain hope you can purchase your yarn.

Ignoring the pleas of your hungry daughter as she breaks into the emergency pudding supply, you marshal on. "No, Wesley, I can't show you how Mario gets through World 8-1. Figure it out." After you tell your son that, you immediately are hit with an attack of guilt. But you really need to find this yarn.

You desperately send a SOS email to all the knitting friends or dubious characters you know (For those of you reading this, you know which category you fall into).

You only stop briefly when you find one last skein in Istanbul, Turkey and gladly pay the $16.00 shipping fee. Only to discover your Turkish language skills are not up to par and you receive a purple skein instead of the sage green you thought you bought.

It finally ends when you realize your soon-to-be homeless Collie has been sleeping on the one skein you thought you had but couldn't find.

But now as I think about it, I really need that Brighton Love Perfume that is only available at a store 900 miles away.

Am I married to Ogden Nash?

Found this and stole it from here.

Machinery Doesn’t Answer Either, But You Aren’t Married to It
by Ogden Nash


Life will teach you many things, chief of which is that every man who talks
to himself isn’t necessarily out of his wits;
He may have a wife who knits.
Probably only he and his Maker
Know how many evenings he has spent trying to raise a conversation while his beloved created sweaters by the acre.
Ah, my inquiring offspring, you must learn that life can be very bitter,
But never quite so much so as when trying to pry a word out of a knitter.
Sometimes she knits and sits,
Sometimes she sits and knits,
And you tell her what you have been doing all day and you ask what she
has been doing all day … and you speak tenderly of your courtship and your
bridal,
And you might as well try to get a response out of an Oriental idol,
And you notice a spasmodic movement of her lips,
And you think she is going to say something but she is only counting the number of stitches it takes to surround the hips;
And she furrows her beautiful brow, which is a sign that something is wrong somewhere and you keep on talking and disregard the sign,
And she casts a lethal glance, as one who purls before swine,
And this goes on for weeks
At the end of which she lays her work down and speaks,
And you think now maybe you can have some home life but she speaks in a tone as far off as Mercury or Saturn,
And she says thank goodness that is finished, it is a sight and she will never be able to wear it, but it doesn’t matter because she can hardly wait to start on an adorable new pattern,
And when this has been going on for a long time, why that’s the time that strong men
break down and go around talking to themselves in public, finally,
And it doesn’t mean that they are weak mentally and spinally.
It doesn’t mean, my boy, that they ought to be in an asylum like Nijinsky the dancer,
It only means that they got into the habit of talking to themselves at home because they themselves were the only people they could talk to and get an answer.

Weekly Warning 3/30/08

Thunderstorms will make you gain weight.
Follow, if you can, this crazy maze from thunderstorm to weight gain.

A couple of days ago during a particularly vicious thunderstorm, our roof sustained minor damage. Dave, being the anti-Bob Villa with roofs, called our nice contractor guy to repair the roof.

The roof repair led to a complete shutter replacement (5 sets in all). This, in turn, precipitated a front door painting. However, I hate my front door. It's just ugly. So that sent us to the door outlet store where we found a $1000 door. Our contractor was installing the door when he discovered carpenter ants. This led to a call to the bug guy who sprayed. While the bug guy was here, the dogs were shut away in our bedroom.

Winter's on its way out so Zack is molting like crazy. Tufts of Collie fur were floating aimlessly around my bedroom, settling on every surface. I couldn't sleep in such hairy circumstances so I pulled out my vacuum to suck up the fur and apparently a sock and my Timex watch. I went to Wal-Mart to get a new vacuum bag b/c the watch ripped the old to shreds and met an elderly woman giving out free cheesecake bites. They were so good I bought a package and ate the entire package on the way home.

So, in summary, the storm caused me to gain two pounds. I'll be ballooning up by the time hurricane season is over.

Cocoa Swap Package

I have an angel and her name is Cindy from Tennessee. Cindy stepped in at the last moment to send a package my way. My previous swap partner didn't send one--I hope she's okay.

My camera has died and until I get a new one, this is a picture-less post.

Cindy sent some yummy taupe colored yarn that is crying out for a drop stitch scarf. The mug is beautiful as well as the stitch markers and shawl pin. The chocolate is well on its' way to being consumed. I'm presently sipping hot cocoa from my new mug.

Oh and Cindy, if that "mini-shawl" is your handiwork, you are a fantastic knitter!

Thanks again, Cindy.