Monthly Archives: October 2015
Did you ever have an Argh Day? That’s a day when you wake up as normal, go about your normal routines, and then just a little niggle sets in. Like today, I lift the dryer to start taming the head of snakes that is my hair, and the dryer does not work. (Yes, I checked the switch. Yes, I checked the reset on the outlet. Yes, I checked the reset on the dryer. Yes, I unplugged it and plugged it back in again after 30 seconds. Yes, my hair looks gross.)
Women, has anyone NOT had an unpleasant experience having a mammogram or a follow-up or an ultrasound? Can there be no technology developed that doesn’t include smashing your tissue flat between two hard sheets of acrylic set at just the right level of height for you to be slightly on your tiptoes while you keep your shoulder down and your chin pointing up and remembering to “relax”?
When I learned to drive, I couldn’t pass my road test or my written test if I didn’t know what a STOP sign was. Have they changed the test? Sure seems that way to me. Do the new tests now require drivers to wave flippantly at the driver they’re cutting off as they run the stop sign as if to say “oh just hold on a minute you can wait for me don’t be so impatient.” Do I need to retake the road test? Because I’m very good at flippant signs.
Do all supermarkets have a sign I haven’t found yet that says “This supermarket proudly supports the movement to abandon carts in the middle of aisles and wander off somewhere else thereby ensuring no smooth flow of shopping traffic”? With the corollary of “Go ahead and leave your cart on line and shop some more! Your fellow shoppers will be glad to hold your place in line for you as they have nowhere special to be anytime soon!”
Here’s today’s Tuesday Tag:
Get ’em while they’re….. well….. they’re not really going anywhere, so mosey on over and grab a dozen.
Have I ever mentioned how much I love autumn? Probably not. I’m really restrained about things like that.
- The Mets are going to the World Series. It is very strange to type that sentence even though it fills me with absolute joy. I don’t think I remember how to be a baseball fan in October.
- My knitting seems to be all garter, all the time. I have a huge garter blanket going right now for a gift, as well as a garter Baby Surprise Jacket for a December baby, and I’m thinking of another garter blanket when this one is done. I wonder if that’s a secret signal that my knitting brain is fried.
- It is October 23 and it’s still not warm enough to think about baked apples, butternut squash soup (yes, Younger Daughter, I think you jumped the gun), and pot roast. I think November is going to be a flurry of fitting all these things in before turkey and cranberry season.
- I am purging things in my house like mad. I used to be a collector of stuff, certain I was saving the earth from needless garbage while I thought about how each item would be carefully recycled into something beautiful or useful. Now I’m all get-that-crap-outta-my-house. And I’m not doing the “tidying up magic” that’s all the rage now because I seriously cannot hold wallpaper scraps in my hands and divine whether or not they bring me joy and thank them for their usefulness. I just want all-that-crap-outta-my-house.
- If I hear “where’s my hoverboard” one more time I may have to punch somebody. It’s a movie.
- There are a bazillion ideas floating in my brain for landscaping our huge backyard, and I think back to the days when I was moving rocks and digging whole gardens. Today I couldn’t get up from a kneeling position. Time, you are a schizophrenic friend.
- Of all the things I miss about working, having the funds to hire somebody to clean my house tops the list. It’s not that I don’t clean my house, it’s that I really suck at it. I don’t notice stuff until it’s in full horror-movie mode and then I’m frantically trying to fix it before somebody notices. Or worse, I think to myself “huh, I’ll have to take care of that” and then poof! it’s gone from my thought process and I’m playing another game on the iPad. (I love my iPad. It’s so bad for me.)
- This year I’m not buying any candy for Halloween. (Gasp.) I am getting a pumpkin and painting it teal. Have you heard about that? It’s to signify that you are a home dispensing treats that are safe for little monsters that have allergies, so no nuts or wheat or crushed roaches or whatever. I am handing out little bags of potato chips instead. And while that is making sweet-tooth Hubby a bit pouty, I am all about the chips. Mmmmm……
- Can we fine all political candidates who flood our mailboxes with glossy mailers about how wonderful they are going to be if you elect them, even though they haven’t been wonderful before this and they’re surely wasting money and materials mailing out those stupid things? Because I could get behind that.
- Luna bars make a perfectly decent breakfast when you don’t want to go through the hassle of making breakfast. My favorites are Coconut Chocolate and Honey Salted Peanut.
And so the craziness that is Rhinebeck happened for me again. I had the best time this year! Sunday was not nearly as crowded as I hear Saturday had been for which I am so grateful. Younger Daughter and I went up together, leaving at 7:15 a.m. and sipping our Dunkin’ Donuts hot tea.
(Speaking of which, I know making tea can be an art or it can be basic. But there’s something about my cup of hot water and tea bag from Dunkin’ Donuts that is better from any other hot-water-and-tea-bag-dispensing place I’ve come across. I wonder why that is?)
We saw the emerging oranges and yellows and scarlets scattered across the valleys and mountains of the Catskill regions, delighting in the fact it was cold enough to wear handknit accessories. We sang show tunes at the tops of our lungs, and tried to out-pun each other. (Spoiler alert: I raised a master punner.)
Then we arrived and crunched along the frosted grass and beheld all the happy faces waiting to get into the Knitter’s Disneyland. We scoped out the handknits, unabashedly staring and admiring and cooing and petting absolute strangers who were happy to return the favor. Some feats of handknitting were not to be believed in their absolute beauty. I’m not good at the stealth photo mode so there are no photos of strangers. But there are photos of stuff!
Now this character was posed in a barn, wearing a scarf/shawl. I wanted so badly for it to be wearing a COWL.
And THIS character was posing with a beautifully knitted shawl. Just because she’s my progeny doesn’t mean I can’t be critical about her knitting skills: they far surpass my own. She had quite a few compliments and even had her picture taken for a local paper. (Yeah, I agree: it would have been nice to have gotten the actual name of the paper, but hey, we know what we look like.)
Do you see that white streak in the photo? That is a SNOWFLAKE. October 19 and it was snowing. My flabber, it was gasted.
Lookee what I had for lunch!
What I don’t have a picture of (for many reasons, one of which is that I’m just not that fast-thinking or coordinated) is me meeting Stephanie Pearl-McPhee. The Harlot herself. I’ll let you ponder that for a minute. Yes, I actually met another member of knitting royalty that I admire so much for all she’s done to make knitting easier on the psyche and embrace the funny. It was a fairly empty hall first thing Sunday, and she just walked right by so I just said “Hello, Stephanie Pearl-McPhee.” She stopped, turned, probably thought dang, almost made it to the door and smiled. She held out her hand and said “Hi, I’m Stephanie.”
Thank the heavens and all the wool in the world I didn’t babble or gush. I told her my name, introduced my daughter, and admired her cowl. (Idiot that I am, do you think I admired the sweater that she had been working on up to the last minute and instagrammed and blogged and tweeted? No, of course not. Again, not the fastest-thinking knife on the tree.) Then she said she liked my shawl. Then we discussed trees and blending and the bark and I actually barked and she kindly didn’t run screaming away from me but laughed a “oh, ha-ha!” and then she was off.
I’m not kidding when I say I actually had to lean against the booth I was near for support until I stopped hyperventilating and Younger Daughter said I actually had tears in my eyes. I did. I love to meet people I truly admire not for celebrity status but for good and decent things they write or say or do. Last year I got to talk to Clara Parkes and was just as grateful to have that small moment. I also spent a good time talking with Sandy Wiseheart (and let me tell you, that is an apt last name for her) and I was all glowy and warm and feeling like I swallowed some sparkles. It just made a sweet weekend that much more sweet for me.
And now, today’s tag:
Latest listing in my etsy shop:
One dozen sweet little teacup tags. Listed on my etsy for $8/dozen, my Tea and Sarcasm readers save $2 using the phrase TAS2015 at checkout. Good through December 31, 2015.
TAG! You’re it! (Get it? Eh? EH? I crack myself up.)
Admit it, this doing stuff every day like, I don’t know, a routine or something is not easy. Really. Wasn’t I just writing my last post yesterday? Did you all enjoy the many blog posts I wrote in my head? Which one was your favorite?
In other words, I cannot believe it’s October 9, I haven’t done the tag thing yet, I haven’t blogged the last week of Writing 101 (and there were some awesome ideas coming, trust me) (you kind of have to trust me, because there’s no way you can verify whether or not I actually had awesome ideas in my head which is the closest I’m going to get to exercising some sort of control right now), I lost track of my days and missed teaching a music lesson, I didn’t do any of the things on the lists I made because I misplaced them before I could do the things…..
So what HAVE I been doing? Funny you should ask. There has been a lot of knitting because I quickly remembered that I had two baby showers in quick succession and one involved a trip to Virginia. There’s a really cute photo of the really cute sweater (in my head) but have I gotten the camera to shoot said photo? No. I have that disease where as soon as you swivel your head in a different direction and focus your eyes elsewhere, everything you were just thinking flies right out of your brain. When do I remember these things? In the shower. When I’m driving. As I’m climbing the stairs to bed. All terribly inconvenient times.
And the kicker is, I can’t promise myself it’s going to get any better. I think I’ll make a list of all the things I want to improve on this weekend…..yeah, that’s a plan.