Brighten it UP!

One of the things that keeps me going in the long, drab, cold and just plain icky winter months are really, really bright colors.  I like to surround myself, literally, with things that are brightly colored - and then it's a little bit easier for me to ignore what's going on with the weather outside.

As I live in a house full of winter-loving-odd-folk, I seem to be the only one that suffers this particular affliction.  Seriously, my house if full of the oddest people.

In any event, here's a little something I made to help keep the colors close over these long, grey winter months - you know, that type of winter that seems like it's decided to stay forever...

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! Merry Festivus! Happy Hanukkah! Feliz Navidad! Happy Kwanzaa!

Soon little boys and girls will be squealing through the house, checking the plate of cookies and glass of milk to make sure Santa came, wondering what could be behind that wrapping paper with dancing bears and reindeer, and jumping up and down on the bed to wake you up.  Of course they don't know you went to bed a half hour ago because you just got done wrapping their gifts.  Merry Christmas Santa!  Ho! Ho! Ho!

But to me it is worth the lack of sleep for the hours of cutting, taping, stuffing, ribbon tying, and the paper cuts to watch them have that moment of wonderment, curiosity and eeps of glee in a hurricane flurry of tissue paper and pretty bows.  I do miss having a little one running around at times but as they get bigger, taking them to different things is pretty awesome too.

If you have never been to the great city of Chicago, make sure you add a trip to your bucket list.  We went to Daley Plaza where the infamous Picasso is located.  You know the one...it's a lady, it's a duck, it's an extraterrestrial that gave Picasso some space drugs...it's in "The Blues Brothers" and "Ferris Bueller's Day Off".  Every year they set up the German Christmas Village and have proprietors sell their authentic wares from Europe.  You can find hand carved Austrian cuckoo clocks, wooden shoes, German hard candies, traditional wooden toys, gut busting bratwurst (yum), fresh roasted almonds and the Biergarten, of course.  They set up around the Picasso sculpture and have a Santa for pictures with a more Norman Rockwell traditional look.  The man they had this year was a dead ringer; it was almost unsettling but awesome!  Kids were going bananas.  I am not much of a connoisseur of shortbread style cookies but ooo-me-oh-my there was a clutch of French nuns (wearing the traditional "flying nun" habits) that were selling fresh baked butter cookies.  Wow.  Those didn't make it home.  I also got some hard candies that remind me soo much of what my grandmother would bring home from her latest trip to Germany when Dori and I were children.

Picasso at Daley Plaza in Chicago

From there we walked on over to Ed Debevic's for some verbal abuse.  It was awesome.  They have pretty good food and the staff there is rude and obnoxious.  Not to an unbearable extreme but there is a whole lotta sass rolling around in there and it's set up like that, on purpose.  The staff has a lot of fun and I have never seen anyone leave from there insulted and pissed.  It is a great place to check out and it's just a mile over the Chicago River from the plaza.  Not to mention the plaza is about a mile from the train station so everything is well within walking distance.  If in-your-face sass isn't your cup of tea, you are only a hop, skip, and jump away from The House of Blues, Bar Louie's, Rainforest Cafe, The Hardrock, Harry Caray's Steak House, even the two story rock 'n' roll McDonald's.  There are soo many different places to choose from in a very small area, in city terms.

I have to say the only part of our trip that just plain ole sucked was the non-stop drizzle.  Just light enough you can ignore it but just wet enough that it drenches you.  My pant legs were soaked up my calf to just below my knee.  My knit hat was starting to droop from all of the weight of the rain but my head was dry!  Even with the shoddy weather, there were a ton of people at the plaza, giggling, taking pictures in front of the large Christmas tree, enjoying good eats and creating memories.  No one was rude or pushy, complete strangers warmly smiling and new friends being made at a spur of a moment. So although I no longer have a little person at a center of a living room wrapping paper tornado, I found myself unaware of how drenched and cold I was and how wonderful it felt to share that time with my loved ones.  We had a smashing time in Chicago and the train ride home, well, that's another story.  Let's just say I laughed so hard I came close to popping out my contact.  

We wish you many blessings of health and happiness during the holiday season and throughout the many years to come.

Dori & Karen

An Invitation to FLASH!!

So, this post is going to be all about FLASHING!!

I'm so totally going to flash you!

With my stash -

of yarn.

Boy, you've got a nasty mind...
:)

Mind you now, this is actually not even close to all of it...

So, here goes...

Oh, I should probably mention that this unit is just over two feet deep - and the yarn is starting to push it's way out.  Oh, oh and did I mention that 70% of it, or so, isn't even in this shot?  Oh, oh, oh, um, also you want to know the worst/best part?  There's more coming from Knit Picks sometime this week - and I can't find a single damn skein that works just right with the project I want to start next. *le sigh*

<3

Consider this an invitation to flash (your stash of yarn, please)!

I'm May Not Be A Lawyer But This Much I Know

My sister Dori and I can be easily described as fiber fanatics.  To the extreme.  What can I say, we love all things fiber!  From grabbing a pair of sticks, or a hook, some string and a pattern to make something beautiful to trips to our local yarn shops to frolic happily through all the lusciousness we can get our hands on.  One of those joys is meeting new knitters/crocheters and helping them learn a new stitch or how to pick out the right yarn for a project to teaching them how to read a pattern/chart and all the abbreviations that can be absolutely overwhelming and confusing when you are first starting out. Thus leading me to a very frustrating and completely irritating point.

There are literally thousands of patterns available on the web as well as in magazines, books, leaflets, and the hand-written ones skritched on a napkin while dining.  You can find a pattern anywhere & everywhere.  Many fiber art forms have been around for thousands of years, so the vast majority of patterns you see are comprised of thousand year old stitches.  Sometimes a designer comes up with a new variation of a stitch, bind off method, cast on method or the like.  Even then, any pattern that is publicly distributed, whether for free or for a cost, is only legally covered to an extent.  Let me expand on this statement.

These cotton socks found in Egypt are some of the earliest knitted pieces. From L to R: Textile Museum, ca. 1000 – 1200 AD; Victorian & Albert Museum, ca. 1100 – 1300 AD; Textile Museum, ca. 1300 AD

http://sheepandstitch.com/the-history-of-knitting-part-1-mysterious-origins/

This evening I was searching through patterns, both free and pay-for, to match with some awesome sock yarn to make shawls.  As I am searching through the hundreds of pages of available patterns, several copyright notices were written beyond the scope of what the copyright actually encompasses.  The only part of the pattern that is legally protected is the pattern itself as it is originally presented, ie: any pictures included, title, the written pattern, charted pattern, special instructions, etc..  It does not cover, however, the completed item.  You may do what you wish with your completed item.  You can gift it, sell it, donate it, or wear it while dancing nude through the streets, it is your item and the designer has no say whatsoever on what you may do with the item.

I have been finding designers stating in their "copyright" that you may not sell the completed item for profit without their permission or not at all, that donations are acceptable only with their permission and that a link/reference must be tagged with the completed item.  One goes so far as that once you pay for the pattern and download it, it pops up a disclaimer stating that with the purchase you have entered into a binding contract that disallows you from selling your completed item.  Ummm....no.  That is all sorts of illegal.  You cannot force a contract onto someone, especially when there is no form of notification of said contract prior to the purchase.  So yeah,  I do not have to do any of that.  I can link/reference your pattern to my completed item out of sheer kindness but there is no law stating that I have to.  The only thing I cannot sell, transmit or distribute is the original pattern in its original presented form without prior consent from the designer.  If I alter the pattern at all; say I find a shawl pattern I love but it is not beaded.  I then alter the pattern to include beading.  And I also decide I want a different edging.  I now finish said item, take pictures and present that as my own pattern because it is not the original pattern as it was presented.  Now copyright laws only cover my pattern as it is presented in its original form.  Someone else can come along, make alterations, and it is now their pattern.

What concerns me are these bogus copyright disclaimers that are totally and completely invalid, and frankly laughably ridiculous at best, will scare away those new to the fiber arts.  The majority of patterns do not have these unenforceable disclaimers, but now and again one pops up and I just start frothing at the mouth.  Some people you just wanna grab by the collar and smack them across the face. But then I will happen upon a pattern where the designer states that you may do what you will with your completed item and to enjoy it but to please not sell their original pattern.  Fair enough.

Yup...hasn't changed.

So to anyone who has come across any type of copyright disclaimer stating that you cannot sell, donate, gift or dance nude through the streets with the item that you have made, they are talking out of a malfunctioning colostomy bag, a.k.a., their mouth.  The cops, however, may wanna have a chat with you about the whole nude thing.

Creativity is Great ... Now Let's FINISH Something!

Hello, my name is Dori and I have FO Syndrome.

For those of you unfamiliar with this rather harrowing syndrome, I'll be happy to explain.

In crafty terms, an FO is a Finished Object.  This syndrome is very specific.  It does not inhibit our ability to create, or to conceive of a lovely, or to see all the fabulous possibilities for that very cool pattern, or even cooler yarn.  It does, however, hinder our ability to FINISH these projects.

Ask an avid knitter or crocheter how many projects they have in any stage of progress and you might be surprised by the answers.  Of course, there are those lovely people that begin a project and work the entire project and then finish, block, weave in ends and photograph and share all before even buying the yarn for their next.  I haven't actually MET one of those lovely people, but, I allow for the possibility that one exists, somewhere.

Well, I have been afflicted with FO Syndrome for years and years.  I've learned to deal with it.

Which is to say, I've learned to ignore it and get really happy over the items I actually DO finish.  Hats and such little things, don't really count toward the Syndrome - they're too fast.  But, well, lace shawls, that's a whole 'nother ball of wax.  Sometimes, putting down a complicated piece of lacework is just a mechanism for preserving your sanity.

So, what this post is really all about, in the end, is that I FINISHED A LOVELY SCARF AND WANT TO SHARE IT WITH YOU!!!  :)))

Here is my version of the Clockwork Shawl/Scarf by Stephen West (isn't his stuff just fabulous?):



Just getting into the groove - loving the colors

 


OK - we're rolling now!

 


FINISHED OBJECT!!

Although I still suffer from FO Syndrome - - I am seriously NOT going to even speculate on the number of projects I currently have in the works - - even I can finish something that I've started.  There's hope fellow Syndrome sufferers!  :)






I Love My New Truck, Even Though My Husband Thinks It's His

We were trying very hard to wait one more year before getting another vehicle.  We haven't had a car payment for several years and were having a hard time swallowing the thought of absorbing a payment again. We have three vehicles: his Ford Escape that everyone hates named The Grinch, my Lumina named Dragonlily and an older Ford Ranger named Lil' John as a back up in case one of the other two broke down and could be used until the broke one was fixed.  By the way, my daughter is in charge of naming the vehicles...have no clue where she comes up with some of these names.

My step-son had been borrowing Lil' John to get back and forth to college while he stays at his mom's house since it's not that far from where he is going.  It is bright teal with a red tailgate.  His mom lives in a very urban area so every night he would park it under the streetlight.  With those colors it is an illuminated road cone, you can not possibly miss seeing it.  Except for the nimrod that smashed into the back end and totaled it.  And was uninsured.  Actually, it was her uninsured boyfriend's car.  Her boyfriend's new Dodge Charger who lives five doors down from where my step-son's mom lives.  So the girl backed up and limped the Charger down the street.  Thankfully my step-son wasn't in it.  She hit it so hard that it shot it forward five car lengths and left a trail of pieces everywhere. The truck is a manual and we always park it in 1st gear.  You know how hard it is to move a manual left in gear is?  So our backup is trashed.

Then my car decided to take a dump a week later.  Awesome.  I have had it for roughly 8 years and have traveled through and to many states.  From New York to Virginia and back, twice.  From New York to Wisconsin, twice.  Then when I moved to Indiana from New York.  And a few trips to Wisconsin since I moved.  That car has definitely earned its keep.  So what do we do now?

Get a new truck!  We ended up getting a Dodge Ram.  My head clears the bed by about four inches.  I have to lift myself to get in.  From behind, you can't even see me.  From the side you can't see me. And from the front, I look like "Kilroy was here".  I have to stand on my tiptoes to just touch the center console.  I have to use rock climbing skills to get into the bed.  My husband, on the other hand, just slides right in, you can see him from any angle, he can reach across the cab and open the other door, and he can reach into the bed of the truck without stretching.  Even with the seat almost to the floor, he towers over the steering wheel.  So who fits better in it?  ME!

And so begins whose truck is it.  For all intents and purposes, it is our truck.  For all reality purposes, it's mine!  And I have never done well with sharing.  Learning how to share in kindergarten and all that jazz, yep, I failed on an epic level.  So now we do the shoving match to see who gets to the driver's side first.  Sometimes I think he forgets how nimble I am.  By the time he works his way around, I have entered through the passenger side and climbed across into the driver's seat.  I win! Yay for being little!  

But it's fun messing with each other.  And considering how much this puppy costs each month, looks like we are going to have it for a long while.  Plenty of shoving matches to keep us in shape!

People have told me this is what I look like

Coloring with String

I've often had people ask me why it is that I like to knit, crochet, tat, weave and spin.  Mostly, for me, it's about coloring with string.  I really enjoy creating something new.  Something that wasn't there before.  The fact that a stick or two and some string can turn into so many different things is a wonder to me.

I also enjoy the rhythm of this type of creation.  Once you get moving along, there is a smoothness to the rhythm that can be very soothing.  In a life that gives plenty of stress, anything soothing is welcomed here with open arms.  :)

Plus, it's fun to play with color.  I think that Karen and I have made the same beanie hat - in two basic styles probably hundreds of times, and there are no repeats in color(s).  All the string gets dyed all the colors.

Speaking of dyeing (really smooth on the segue there, right?), I've always liked to dye my own yarn, I've just never found it to be very cost-effective.  Well, that's all changed!!  I've found an awesome supplier who has superior quality fibers, fast shipping and the lowest prices I've ever seen.  Now, that I can custom dye our own lace shawl/scarf/shawlette/poncho/ponchette/caplet yarns for a third of the price I was paying - bring on the dye pots!! 

I ordered a very small order the first time through and here are some shots of my adventurous very first run dyeing a slow change/gradient:




Creating a dyeing blank

Soak bath

Dyeing all done and the drying has begun!

This runs from true orange all the way to the palest touch of color.

Just love the way this turned out!



Now, that the new yarn is dyed, dried, caked and lovely - it's time to decided what fabulous thing this will become with just a pair of sticks to do the job!  :)

Being Thankful For All That I Have And More

I am pretty lucky when it comes to gift giving for my family.  Anything you hand them, they are appreciative and display the proper thanks, whether they like/want it or not.  There are no tantrums, no snarled hooks of the mouth or long, disappointing sighs.  I have witnessed many a time at friends' homes when you just want to line everyone up and do a Three Stooges face slap.  Really people?

I do enjoy coming up with unique and fresh ideas for gifts, finding everything, and wrapping it all nicely.  I love shopping for wrapping paper and all the pretties for presents.  And our family loves to do the one, almost impossible gift to open each year.  I used super glue, 3 boxes, and twine reinforced packing tape one year for a single gift.  Everyone laughs and truly takes delight in watching the battle wondering who's going to win, the gift receiver or the gift.

I also find myself each year, little by little, feeling less joyous.  The vastly over-commercialized holiday season just kills it.  I mean, they are advertising for Christmas three weeks before Halloween.  Heck, I've even seen pre-Christmas sales in August.  Please let us enjoy one holiday before you start another.  I remember when waiting to shop for Christmas until December was no big deal and you could find what you needed without issue.  Now if you don't have your shopping done by mid-October, you're screwed.  Sad.  It gets everyone so wrapped up in scrambling to get the bigger and better gift, the meaning in the gift seems to get lost.  But that is what I love about my family soo much, there is no competition factor (which is huge as we all are uber competitive in nature).  From a pack of Bic pens to a laptop to a box full of socks/underoos, it's all the same.  I love that.  

One thing I try to do each year is come up with at least one unique gift or card or anything that is specific to the receiver.  This year for the Grandma's I designed their own stationary sets.  Journals, post-it notes, pens, scratch pads, notecards with matching envelopes, envelope seals and it is all personalized with their names, Grandma & Granny.  Many years ago I took a potato chip bag, cut it down the side, wiped it out and used it as stationary.  I used a Sharpie and then laid paper towel over top so the marker wouldn't transfer when I folded it.  My mother still sends letters from time to time on the inside of a potato chip bag.  A couple of years ago my husband and I had banked all of our savings to buy our home so we had a very small budget.  I made gift baskets.  Homemade breads, muffins, and cookies.  I crocheted sets of dishcloths to coordinate with the recipients home decor.  I also included mixed nuts that I bought from the local candy store, Albanese.  They are Willy Wonka on steroids.  Love it.  I also made dry, pre-mixed hot chocolate and soups in little mason jars.

Donating your time, items, money, or all of the above really keeps everything in perspective too. Next Saturday is a Christmas dinner for the families in my local community that are struggling.  It's hosted by my daughter's high school and the students donate food items and their time.  Every year my sister and I make hats and scarves for the families.  We also try to adopt a family each year to supply them with groceries.  Spending $15.00 on a toy that will literally make a child squeal with glee will make you melt.  Give it a try.  You will find yourself wanting to do it more and more.

So although the grinding commercial machine that mass produces come all, come now or you are going to lose out keeps on growing and churning, I know that like myself and my family, there are many who haven't lost what is considered the spirit of Christmas.  That gives me hope that we will get back to the meat of the holidays...be thankful for who and what you have every day and know that what you want isn't necessarily what you need.

Empty Nest Syndrome vs. Snow Day

The kids love a good snow day.  As we live in upstate New York - they're guaranteed at least one, and more likely three, every year.  I grew up just outside of Chicago.  I can remember and appreciate a good snow day.  But, now, with five kids, four of whom still live at home, I can better appreciate how my mother's mouth would get all tight and thin-lipped whenever we had a snow day.  Karen and I were truly terrible kids, too.  We got into everything.  Every room we simply walked through looked like the aftermath of a tsunami - every single time.  Our mother has always been very house-proud, too.  I think we must have been a terrible trial for her.

I am not my mother, though.  Even growing up with a mid-western work ethic, on most days, I am not too house-proud.  Our home is clean - but lived in.  It is very obviously lived in.  The dishes are done, the clothes and people are clean, but, watch your step in the living room, there is invariably enough dinosaurs on the floor to fill the entire Cretaceous time period.

Currently, all four sprogs are home.  Word World is playing in the living room.  Mine Craft is running on the giant screen in the media room.  The Xbox One is in the middle of some live ops or another and some really annoying teenager music is eeking out of another room.

I have a headache.

I used to read and speak with people in complete sentences.  I used to go out to eat just for the sake of a new flavor.  Someone once told me that you lose 10% of your functioning brain capacity with every child.  That puts me at an operating level of 50%.  I'm lucky I don't need a bib.

I am going to knit and crochet a garland today to run around the ceiling of the craft room (previously known as the dining room) in an attempt to keep my cool.  Every fifteen minutes, or so, one or another of the sprogs wanders into the kitchen to make a snack.  I have to keep running into the kitchen to get them to put things away - in an attempt to avoid the tsunami.

I've been hearing about empty nest syndrome for most of my adult life.  I must admit, though I completely love and adore my children, I am ready to see if an empty nest is all it's cracked up to be.

Your Birthday Wish Is...Chopsticks?

My beautiful, rather artistic unpredictable daughter will be turning 17 next week (ack) and we asked her what she would like for her birthday.  We were figuring clothes, art supplies, mustache stuff (she loves running around saying "I mustache you a question" while giggling uncontrollably) and anything steampunk.  Her first response was the quintessential "I don't know".  Thanks for the help.  So we made dinner and the subject just faded off into the sunset.

As we all were finishing dinner and putting the leftovers away, she excitedly blurts out "Chopsticks!" My husband and I turned and looked at each other with equal puzzlement.  She looked at us like we were plain ole stupid.  So my husband responded with "Snorkel."  I said "Wicker."  Now we were really stupid.  So we tried again.  He said "Butrostache" and I said "PeePeePoopyShire."  I think she was waiting for us to tip over from passing out.  Since breathing, talking and thinking is just waay too much for us to process at once, we should have been sacks of potatoes on the floor.  With an exacerbated sigh, she said "Noooo....for my birthday.  That is what I want.  Chopsticks."  My husband and I smiled at each other, did a high five and said "Yay!  A gift we can get for free!  Panda Express, here we come!"  Her amusement level was dwindling at an alarming rate.  We smiled bigger.  I guess we are kinda stupid.

She loves Chinese food.  Absolutely loves it.  To an unhealthy level.  I am certain that is the only thing she will eat three times day when she moves out.  She was asking for a good set that would be hers to use over and over.  So I went online to see what I could find.  Holy cow are there all sorts of chopsticks out there!  And different styles too.  Thai, Chinese, Japanese and others.  Did not know that.  There is chopstick etiquette.  Did not know that.  There is a chopstick dictionary.  Did not know that.

We bought her three sets of chopsticks and an oversized bamboo box to keep them in.  Figure we can keep adding to them as we see any new cool ones.  There are light saber ones.  You can eat your chow mein with light sabers.  Or General Tso's with dinosaur ones.  You and T-Rex can enjoy some Chinese chicken together.  Who knew?

This is one of the pairs we got for her.  Hope she likes them!   If not, there is always Panda Express.

Today was Award Winning!

Today was a lovely day.  Kids at school.  Husband at work.  Two shawls finished - IN THE SAME DAY!! - and sent out/gifted.  I was monitoring work from home - keeping up on emails and phone calls.  Got a new shawl started.  Called Karen and messed with her for a bit.  Once Karen was all nice and wound up, went around the corner and mailed her a present.  (She deserved it for putting up with me earlier in the day...)

Sounds like I was really working it today, right?

Ha!  Not hardly.  All of that only took about ten minutes in the afternoon.  The entire rest of the day I seriously won the Slacker Award.  For real, most of the day was dedicated to a Dexter Marathon. 

 

 

Tomorrow.  Tomorrow I will go to work; balance the books, take care of billing, work on several different WIP (Work In Progress) projects and make a huge dinner. 

 

Today, though, I am enjoying my Award and getting ready to order some pizza.

 

:)

 



 

My Daughter's Boyfriend Is Afraid Of Me...Good

My daughter is doing pretty well in the boyfriend department while she is attending high school.  In other words, she normally doesn't have one.  Since she attends a small school (I believe her graduating class is just at 100 students and that is the largest they have had in many years), so everybody knows everybody, keeping most kids to friendships rather than relationships.  Many of her guy friends she has known for years and they never date because everyone knows everyone, but mainly she chooses not to date.  That keeps mom happy because she will never be old enough to date. Ever.

But I know that's not the case.  And the fact that she is smart, is an exceptional artist, has a very individual sense of style, confidant, and beautiful (and although I am extremely biased, of course, she has a wonderfully symmetrical face with a well defined bone structure and one of her eyes is brown in 3/4 of the iris, the other 1/4 is hazel, like a slice of pie).

The boy she is dating now really is a good kid.  He is very respectful, never questions what rules are put in place for her or pushes her to violate those rules, and he has that little glimmer about him when they are together.  It's too cute.  And I totally scare him and my husband absolutely petrifies him.  Good. He has told my daughter on several occasions that the fact that I am small makes me scarier.  Good.  I have a snarky sense of humor so sometimes he isn't sure if I am serious or not when I am joking with my daughter, thus scaring him.  Good.  He has also told her he is pretty sure that I could take him down, even if he were to fight back.  Good.

He came to our house to hang out with her yesterday for a little while.  My husband was standing in the kitchen, all 6'4", 260 lb, bald head and long goatee of him.  As he came around the corner, I introduced him to my husband, who did the puffing peacock, and they shook hands.  Although I am pretty sure his bladder wanted to completely empty, shrivel into the size of a pea and retract up inside his stomach all at the same time, he stepped forward and shook my husband's hand while looking him in the eye.  Props to him for that.  Fear was written all over his face.  Good.  When I called them for dinner, he was afraid to sit.  Good.  He was respectful in the amount of food he plated for himself and waited to start eating until my daughter had sat down and began eating.  Good.  I told him to eat however much he wanted.  I also said that if he didn't like what I made, his arms and legs aren't broken, make yourself some pb&j's.  Yep, that scared him too.  Good.  

This is how any boyfriend should look and have running through his head when dating my baby girl.  Don't mess with Mama Bear's little cub.  You will get a massive clawed paw.

Picking Out The Perfect Tree, Griswold Style

The family and I have returned from picking out the perfect Christmas tree.  I love having a live Christmas tree, filling the home with the scent of fresh pine.  Perfect.

As we were approaching the tree lot, where we have been getting our trees from for many years now, we were joking about whether or not we would find another Griswold tree.  We found a lovely white pine that has absolutely no bare spots that is about 8' tall.  With vaulted ceilings, it fills up the front picture window nicely.  We love it!  Perfect.

But there are other times when the trees on the lot never look that big.  Then you get it home.  It is that big.  We found that out a few years ago when we were in our rental home, without vaulted ceilings.  Beautiful tree, pleasant scent, strong branches, soft needles, tore the front door frame shoving that sucker into the house. Stood it up.  Or tried.  It was a lot taller than we thought too.  Ripped a hole in the ceiling. Scratched the front window.  Swallowed all the available space in the living room.  Perfect.

It was also at this time my daughter and I found out why my husband and step-son where quietly snickering and speed tying the tree to the top of our SUV.  When we arrived at the lot, there were several other people there.  The man who runs the lot always has a nice selection of many different types of pines to choose from, so it nice to stroll around and whittle down your choices to two or three trees. Unbeknownst to all of us, there was a young couple walking around doing the same thing, whittling away.  So the tree man was bouncing back and forth between us.  We picked the tree we wanted. Apparently, as it turns out, it was the same tree the young lady wanted.  So my daughter and I went to the car since we all had decided on a tree and the men were to pay and load, and because it was butt-freezing cold outside!  From in between the trees, we see them trotting, and I mean trotting, up to the car with the tree man holding one end and George the other, and they tossed the tree onto the roof.  They shook hands and my men started tying away.  I did see the young lady walk up to where the tree on the roof our car had been with a confused look on her face.  At this point, the men hopped into the car and we left.  Perfect.

The main reason they were laughing was the young lady saw them tying it to the roof, pointed and turned to her boyfriend/husband and said "That asshole stole our tree".  The tree man was laughing.  As they were trotting to the car, he had told my husband the young couple had been going back and forth between two trees for almost a half hour and were trying to dicker on price.  The tree man stands up the trees on large screws, lined up on 2x4's.  I was wondering why he was unscrewing our tree with a quickness.  Now I know.  Perfect.

So, that was a first for all of us.  Having someone swearing at us while picking out a Christmas tree and being accused of stealing it.  Perfect.

It still makes me giggle.  Our friend and his young daughter have come to visit so I need to skee-daddle.  She is having soo much fun hanging ornaments.  She's humming and throwing the toy for the dogs in between hanging ornaments.  It's just too cute.  Perfect.

  

Surviving THAT Day

Today has been THAT day.  You know the one.  It's the day where nothing actually goes really, truly, terribly wrong but nothing really goes right either.  Since it's Wednesday, it's too far in to blame it on Monday and still not far enough in to really let the weekend act as a buffer.  Ugh.  Just THAT day, all day.

#5 was home from school sick.  Not sick enough for the doctor's office or urgent care (thankfully); but, sick enough that he needed constant attention all day.  No fever or anything, just coughing and a really, really runny nose.  Lots of lovely sneezes in Mommy's face.  Eh, whatever.  I'm just glad that he's feeling better and is sleeping peacefully now, my poor little man.

#4 came home from school all bummed out because he had gotten a 96 on a test he was SURE he had aced.  Someone else in the class had gotten a 97 - which irritated his competitive ego just a touch.  Don't get me wrong, I am NOT that mom that drives and drives her kids to "perfection" like they're work mules - I do try to instill in them a sense of independence and confidence; try to help them balance a healthy respect for reality while maintaining a good heart.  But, this boy, this one has such a natural sense of himself.  He has the most amazing light in his eyes, it truly makes me proud.  But, I have to remind him sometimes that achievements come in many forms and perfection is an illusion.  I don't want him to drive himself so hard he has ulcers at 30.

#3 turned 16 this week.  She's tall and lovely.  She's a 16 year-old girl.  Enough said. *le sigh*

#2 spent the morning studying and the rest of the time on the Xbox - all day.  All day.  All day long.  She's asleep now because she has class early tomorrow.  The Xbox is finally turned off.  I think I can hear it quietly weeping in exhausted relief in her room...

#1 and her sprog are doing their thing.  They live around the corner from us.  It's quite close.  It doesn't make me worry about them a single iota less - but I won't tell if you don't.

I worked very early this morning so that I could be back home before my husband had to go to work.  I got everything done and was back in the door in just under two hours.  I was actually a bit proud of myself for getting everything done in such a quick turn around.  I walk in the door and my lovely husband and coughing, snotty son met me at the door - wondering why I had been gone so long. 

We got the husband off to work, I snuggled up the little man and then the phone started ringing.  It just didn't stop.  For the next three hours, there was another call every ten minutes or so.  Some needed to be taken care of, some were just chatty bullshit, and some were a waste of time.  (Did you know that YOU too can get solar panels installed for less than you might think?)

See?  Nothing terrible.  Just THAT day.  All day.

Days like this, the ones that are just off, are one of the reasons that I like to work with the fiber arts.  The feel of some soft and luscious yarn in my hands; the sense of accomplishment when I create something new; the rhythmic characteristics of knitting, crochet, weaving, spinning and/or tatting all have a positive effect on THAT day.  I have some fabulous baby alpaca that I've been saving for a day just like THIS day.

Here's to a Thursday that rocks!

Kids Walk On Four Legs Too

To those who do not have pets, particularly dogs, they are perpetually four years old.  Old enough to know better but young enough they do it anyway because they know they won't be in big trouble. Our neighbor has a big ole black lab and he is just the sweetest.  Big, sweet and dopey.  Gotta love him. We have two lil ankle biters that we rescued several years ago and a red merle border collie that we rescued last year.  They all get along great.  Our lil ones like to go through the holes in the fence (wire cattle fencing) to go over and say hello to the big ole dopey lab.  The big ole dopey lab has figured out how to get out of his yard, comes straight up our deck stairs to our sliding glass door, and starts pawing at it for his buddies to come out and play.  The big ole dopey 135 pound (easily, all muscle) lab wants to play with his 5 pound and 11 pound lil buddies, while his 55 pound buddy is eh, whatever.  All we do is laugh.  They act just like little kids playing with blocks.  Sometimes they share, sometimes they don't.  It is just hysterical to watch.  Kids.

So how do you punish an animal for being a stinker?  I think a few owners have figured it out.....

Noooo....you need to stop being a pooper.

Potential replacement coupled with confusion will give you a short reprieve.

Making them into a fire breathing dog may never happen but it may make people think twice.

Since I have a black thumb when it comes to gardening, this is perfect.

Okay, your dog really had to be a major stink-a-poo to have this happen.

This would be taking it a little too far.  We had a long haired dachshund growing up and he was an awesome lil dog.

So we are sitting here waiting for their bog ole dopey sweetie pie buddy to stop on by to ask if they can come out and play.  Puh-leez!  Kids.

Don't TALK about it!!

I've been considering something lately.  Only considering, mind you.  I've been considering organizing my yarn stash.  Sounds crazy simple, right?  Putting a bunch of balls, skeins, hanks and cakes of string into some semblance of order...not so simple, AT ALL.  Mostly, the reason is because I have SO much of it - lots and lots - - - and lots. 

Today, being Cyber Monday, is very hard on a yarn-a-holic.  The sales are simply too killer to pass up.  I ordered enough yarn today for NINE full-sized lace shawls.

Do I have patterns picked out?
Nope.

Do I have room for all this new lovely that's on it's way?
Nope.

Am I feeling the slightest bit guilty?
Nope.

 

 

To all of my fellow fiber fanatics out there - I'll meet you on the road to S.A.B.L.E. and we can compare notes on our journey!!  :D

 

(S.A.B.L.E. = Stash Acquisition Beyond Life Expectancy)