Seriously–
Chicken took care of putting photos in the blog–of course, not that I prefer to be seen on the www with cat-butt in my face on a daily basis, but, well, now that you’ve seen how the family is growing (and isn’t the family resemblance between Mate and T remarkable?) I can ramble on about nothing and not fret about the fact that blogger hasn’t downloaded pictures for ME for weeks, and yet Chicken can just dump, like, five all in one day.
And really, besides getting some illicit reading time in (Kresley Cole’s A Hunger LIke No Other…mmmmmmm. Tasty.) I haven’t done much. His royal prickweenie came in today and after noting that in spite of the two week backlog of lesson plans tacked to my wall, I didn’t have TODAY’S particular lesson plan available (I was absent Friday–I do them after school, sue me!!!!) he smiled, flickered out his forked tongue, and slithered away. Uhm, can we all say it in tandem? DU-UDE! I hope he comes by tomorrow. I’m watching a movie.
Anyway, Roxie (bless her!) reminded me to count my blessings, and I did want to say that although I’m not very vocal about it, I do count my blessings. In fact, sometimes I AGONIZE over my blessings. You know–I have so many blessings and just enough dubious gifts that I’m not sure where the controlling force in the universe wants me to invest my very limited time, sort of agonize? But I never forget that I’m lucky in that I have these sorts of choices. Ever. (Thanks, Roxie–it’s probably very positive to actually hear that voiced, and Donna Lee, one very sweet birthday spring chicken, has lamented that there might not be enough niceness in the world. I wanted to do my part.)
And other than that? Hm. I finished my travelling socks. For those unaware, the traveling socks have been with me for about 3 months–I ONLY work on them at stoplights, lunch and staff meetings. You’d think that, with my short attention span and generous stash, I’d be happy to send the generous portion of leftovers (Schaeffer’s Anne) on to someone else, like I do, but I must have some sort of deep and abiding torch for these colors–they’re gold and wheat and purple–you know, fruited planes and purple mountains majesty sort of colors? Anyway, unthinkably after three months, they’re still turning me on. I may make Ladybug some socks–or even a friend some fingerless mitts. But first…
But first I need to stick my tongue out at the Knitting Goddess’ flaky younger sister, the Baby-knitting Goddess, who did the following to me: After shamelessly nagging my co-worker, Cael (the nice young man who took the picture that managed to make me un-frightening) to by all the gods at once, TELL ME what the gender of his impending baby might be, and TELL ME when the baby was due, told me both: It’s a girl, dure in February. Which means, to me, that I can start the sockies and hat right after the Christmas dementia and strikke-along has faded from memory. Of course, that was before my morning e-mail when he TOLD ME that the shower is in frikking NOvember, right after Thanksgiving. Dumb ass men–do they think we knit in our sleep?
By the way–if I had a wee bit more time and computer savvy, I’d totally glom Bells’ “Stash without guilt” button, because these are deep and lovely principles that I totally would love to abide by. As it is, I just have to let that main idea float across my addled brain pan every now and then so I can gaze covetously and lovingly at my yarn boxes and hiss “mine, my precious…it’s all mine…”
Someday, I will take pictures again…probably of Ladybug running gleefully down the hall with a roll of deodorant in one hand and a hand knitted sock in another…
Ciou!
Blessings on you, dear heart. Prickweenie has to live with his own toxic self every minute of every day and you do not. Great cause for celebration right there. And what worse punishment could you imagine for anyone than to have to exist that closely with the Prickweenie?
Great post. You paint pictures with words.
It’s remarkable how similar your family looks to mine at that hour of the day! And I am thankful every day for the computer knowledge my children have gleaned over the years. They dig me out of holes all the time. And I’m with Roxie, at least you don’t have to spend all day, every day of your life with the prickweenie. Is he married? What a saint she must be, or maybe she is worse? There would then be some justice in the universe.
Thank goodness, there is a place I can winge about this: a dear friend (took care of my parents at the end) asked me, a few months back, to knit a sweater for her hubby. An aran cardigan to be exact. She would buy the yarn and I would knit (she knits, too, but not as fast as I). She finially mailed the yarn yesterday (not enough, but that’s another story) and during the phone call to tell her it came she said,”There’s no hurry. His birthday isn’t until January. You have plenty of time.” Uh-huh. Let’s see. It’s November, and the last time I knit this thing it took 5 months. Yeah. No problem………..
They’re not blessing if you stress over them.
Yup – knitting takes no time at all – and after all we’re women and have all this time on our hands and don’t do anything all day (oh apart from working and cooking and cleaning and writing and paying bills and stuff) – and we can do this stuff at a moments notice! Bloody men!