Sometimes even end-of-February snow is pretty

I'm not a fan of snow. It does cover up the dead landscape, but it is hard to truck the kids around in, tracks snow and general dampness into the family room, and is a general pain in the ass. But this morning, I woke up to a few inches of snow, and it was beautiful. As much as it was going to be a PITA to walk the girlie to school in it, it was pretty. The snow followed a few days of thaw and rain, so the back yard had been more like Lake Deplume. And last night's snow stuck to the branches, which allowed my eye to see beautiful white trees and not the gray sky, waiting to drop more snow on us.

I was so taken by the beauty of this meteorological event, I took my camera along on the walk to school. And as it turns out, a red brick library really stands out on a snowy morning. And that red gives me a warm fuzzy feeling. The fact that our local librarians know mine and my kids' names, and is less than two blocks from my house might have something to do with that, though, as well.

Once we got back from the school walk, Nige decided that he wanted to play in the back yard. It had begun snowing again by this point, and his three-year-old self was in seventh heaven. I let him, of course, and kept the camera at the ready. A few minutes later, he was sitting atop the slide, with 4 inches of snow obscuring his descent. He sat up there for a few minutes, telling me that he was a little scared. I explained that it was just fluffy snow, and it isn't scary. Luckily he believed me, and slid on down. It was quite a ride, shoving all that snow off the plastic slide with his butt.

He had a fun time, but bore a striking resemblance to the abominable snowman by the time I convinced him to come inside. It was a good day.

I've run out of gratitude

This is what- day 7? And I've run out of things to blog about being grateful for. It's not that I'm not grateful for many things, it's mostly that I feel stupid blathering on about being glad I have a Tivo so I can avoid commercials, enough blankets so I can watch TV without catching a chill in my old and drafty house, or kids who are funny even when they are being naughty.

So here I sit, looking for profound gratitude, and it's just not coming to me. (And I've picked up neither knitting needles nor crochet hook in two days.) So, instead, I'll tell you all a funny story (funny to me, and worth remembering, but you may disagree. That's okay-- I don't expect you to giggle).

Back story: Many people, Mr Deplume's dad especially, really rely on their GPS units to get them from point A to point B. Sometimes, even with the GPS units working for him, he still makes makes errors in his travels. I've heard others mention that they simply could not live without them.

Today: We are getting ready to travel to Chicago soon. DH walks into the kitchen tonight, holding three pages of printed Google map/directions. He looks at me and says, "I've got the TomTom here for us."

I said, "Good. I don't think we could make it there without one."

"I just need one thing. While we're driving, you need to read these to me in an Australian accent."

"Sorry, the only accent I can do is Indian." I wondered even how good my Indian accent was, and tried a 'turrn right herr at de next corner' for him.

"You'll also have to say 'Tank you, come again' a lot." He replies.

I pondered that for a minute. "I think I only need to go with 'come again' if I'm doing an Apu impression. I don't think most Indians say that any more than anyone else."

"Okay. Just work on the accent before tomorrow, okay? I just don't think I can get there with the directions in Midwestern English."

"Fair Enough, Schmoopy."

And I went back to cooking dinner. I love my guy. And I love that all my hours of solitarily (is that a word?) watching Bollywood films has finally paid off.

Roses and Roller Rinks

I read a blog today about my friend taking her daughter to a skating rink. Roller rinks are smelly, loud, and really boring for anyone not in skates. I opined that I just might not love my kids enough to take them to go skating-- the two hours of watching a child go round and round the floor it more than I could bear. I then suddenly teleported back in time to the many Saturdays I spent at Washington Skateland. It had a portrait of our first President on the outside, and carpeted benches and neon lights inside. The "pro shop" would sell you fluorescent laces and fuzzy pom poms for the skates. The disco music was loud and tinny. And of course there was a mirrored ball in the center.

And who took me? My Grandma Bug. My sister and I spent lots of weekends with them. So many fond memories of those weekends; Grandpa would pick us up after work on Friday afternoon, and drive us to their farm in his big red Chevrolet, no air conditioning, Cubs game on the AM radio. If we were really lucky, he'd stop by the KFC on the way home. Grandma worked for the Red Cross, and wouldn't usually be home until late that night. Then Saturday, we'd do farm stuff, that is, until I turned about 10, when I learned to roller skate.

So Grandma would drive me there Saturday morning, and sit for two hours straight (sometimes more), in the noisy stinky blinky rink, watching me roll around in circles. I don't remember her bringing a book, but I certainly hope she did. I still don't think I love my children enough to routinely take them to a place like that (I've already vetoed the chance of ever taking the kids to Chuck E Cheese again), but I hope that when I'm a Grandmother, I'll have such a close relationship with my grandkids. I'm truly grateful that I knew them so well for so long.

Speaking of Grandma, I recently took this picture of an afghan she crocheted back when she was a home-duty nurse, and have been meaning to post it. I love this throw. It proudly sits on the back of the sofa she gave to me last year. I love the sofa too-- it has become known around here as Mommy's Special Couch.

"Don't climb on the back of Mommy's Special Couch."
"Put the cushions back on Mommy's Special Couch."
"No markers within 10 feet of Mommy's Special Couch!"

Anyway, enough of the reminiscing. Here's the throw, and the couch. I'll get back to yarnier content tomorrow. I hope. ;)

Sunny and cold with a side of Awesome

It was 4.8 degrees (Farenheit) out this morning. I drove the girl to school. As militant as I am about walking the three blocks to school in the morning instead of wasting gasoline and polluting the air, 5 is really really cold. I'm happy that our trusty little car started this morning and got us to school sans frostbite. We'll probably walk to story time at the Library this afternoon, though. It's only a block-and-a-half away and the temp should have risen to a balmy 15 by then. And it's sunny. A good dose of Vitamin D and fresh air is good for the soul.

You know what else is good for the soul? Laughter. And Mr. Deplume and I have had no shortage of laughter in our lives since I found this:


Yes, there is a whole line of Awesome products at Cub Foods. I snickered when I found it in the grocery aisle, and it causes a little giddy glee each time I take the box from the drawer and pull out a length of its awesome shiny film. Who thought up the brand name "Awesome"? Whoever it is, I'm like to thank him or her. Or them. Do you suppose it was a whole committee at the household products company that came up with it? Or is there a company named "Awesome Products"? However it was named, it is like, totally genius.

Now onto the non-genius stuff; the shawl that I made for my girl. It is fraught with mistakes, including a general misunderstanding of how how crochet. But I learned a lot while making it, and it is soft and purple and Miss Nora likes it.



Pattern: Half-Moon Shawl
Yarn: Caron Simply Soft in "Grape"
Hook: H/5.0 mm

Today I am grateful for...

The Thesaurus. In reading my post from yesterday, I realized that I used the word "fancy" no less than 6 times. SIX. That's too many. If I had only utilized one of the many thesauruses at my fingertips, I could have replaced at least 4 of the instances of "fancy" with synonyms like fantastic, wonderful, marvelous or grand.

I'm also grateful that none of my friends have deigned to point it out to me.

An embarrassment of riches

Our television is dying what seems to be a slow and painful death. A couple of weeks ago, it started taking longer to turn on in the morning. As the TV-plague progresses, it causes the picture to blink on and off an increasing number of times before it becomes watchable. Sometimes it just won't turn on at all, and we have to turn in it off and try again later. It is a most irritating malady.

So we've begun the search for a new television. Mr. Deplume and I have looked at HDTVs, regular TVs, LCDs and anything in between. Our options are this: buy a regular old tube TV, for a couple of hundred bucks, an HD tube TV for a couple hundred more than that, or a fancy flat screen for yet another few hundred. We've ruled out the HD tube tv, because it is so heavy that we'd need to buy a new stand for it, taking away any savings over the fancy one. So we have to decide on a plain old television that shows the shows, or a fancy one that shows the shows, only much better.

We've always maintained that HDTV is a silly concept, and that the glory of high-definition is just lost on us. But we find outselves drawn to the bright shiny flat screen gorgeousness. But here's the rub: we're cheap. We are really very frugal, and do our best to avoid the consumerism that runs so rampant in our society.

So we're faced with this horrible moral dilemma: do we spend $450 more on a fancy HD television, when a regular old tv will do? If I have that $450 and am willing to part with it, why is it okay not to do some good in the world with it? The food pantry could buy lots of groceries with that. The church could heat the building or pay for programs with that. That money, given to Heifer International could buy sheep or llamas or a cow for a family in a poverty-stricken country.

But I really want the fancy TV.

In thinking and praying on this today (yes, I'm praying about a TV-- wanna make something of it?!?), I'm beginning that I need to give away something to help someone else before I can splurge on a silly want of my own. I'm so grateful to have enough money in the bank that these things are even a possibility. It wasn't all that long ago that we were trying to figure out how to pay the gas bill and also clothe our growing baby girl.

Will Norm's family get the fancy HDTV? Will she learn to get over it and enjoy her current station in life? Will she ever finish the sweater she's working on? These questions and more will be answered in the coming weeks.

I've been doing it wrong

I was so sure that I was the quickest crochet study on the planet. A prodigy, if you will. But then last night, I came to a realization: I've been doing it wrong. I know a few posts ago I talked about doing it wrong in a tongue-in-cheek manner, but this time I mean it. How embarrassing. I've been only picking up the front loop of the stitch, à la knitting. I didn't realize until last night that you're supposed to pick up both loops. argh. The worst part is that I realized it AFTER asking a really stupid bonehead question about it in public. On Ravelry, the single-largest conglomeration of fiber folk on the planet. What a maroon I am.

I hate being a maroon.

But at least I can be grateful that I've figured out the right way to do it for the future. Off to pick a pattern for the next project. I'm so very addicted to yarn (I'm obviously also grateful for sheep).

30 days of Gratitude

I was inspired by my dear friend Joy to post here for 30 days with the focus being gratitude. I of course jumped at the idea. I know that remembering to be grateful for the bazillion quintrillion gifts that have been given to me is key to my happiness in life. So here I go.

The very first thing that pops into my mind in this Month of Thanks-Giving is to be truly grateful for the few good close friends I have in this world. My husband is of course my bestest buddy in the world, and he is worth his weight in gold (or artisan beer, as it were). I'm also really blessed to have friends like Joy. I was fortunate to have a "girls' weekend" with her and two others last summer. It was some of the most edifying debauchery on record. I wish she didn't live so far away, contactable only by Interwebs, but I am happy that I have the internet to keep me close to teeny tiny circle of really great friends.

So there it is, day one of being thankful for stuff. I do need to note here that it is sunny, and my hands are feeling better too. I'm just a bundle of blessings today, eh? I need to stop now though, I don't want to run out of ideas before my 30 days is up.

In which I hurt myself

YSHA* will be here this afternoon to conduct its investigation. It's all very tragic (and painful), but I'll try to recount the events of yesterday so you can all learn from my mistakes.

Yesterday at 8 AM, I saw this on Ravelry, and realized that Nora's (store bought Princess) Valentines for the big kindergarten V-day party were woefully inadequate. They simply would not do. She'd be the laughing stock of her class. So I immediately set out to make hearts for her 14 classmates.

This would not have been a problem, except that my church's knitting group meets on Wednesday mornings. So I packed up my stuff and The Nige, and we went to the coffee shop for cookies and coffee and yarn. There, I worked on Nora's purple shawl for 2 hours. Kinda. When at a coffee shop with a 3-year-old, there's as much kid wrangling as there is knitting or crocheting. Maybe more.

So when we got home, I had to sit down and make 13 hearts (the first had been made at 8am, about 5 minutes after the first pattern sighting). I picked out some boyish yarns, some girlish yarns, and got to work. This is where the pain comes in. When working with teeny projects, it turns out that I hold the work very tightly with my left thumb and middle finger. So by 4 PM, my left thumb was atrophied and generally useless. My right wrist was tender, but not all that bad, considering the excessive crochet to which it had been subjected.

And then I got up to move a plastic file box full of art supplies. My right hand, in its weakened state, slipped off the top of the box, pulling my right fingernail back ever so slightly. You know how sometimes you hurt yourself and don't really know it until later? This is one of those times. As the night wore on, My hands began to wither and throb. My index finger is bruised, my knuckles are stiff, and my left thumb is still not working.

But look how cute they are. It was worth it, right?

Pattern: Crochet Valentine from Crochet Today
Hook: G/4.0 mm
Yarn: leftovers and vintage wool from the charity shop.

Note: In a lovely instance of serendipity, I already had a stack of crochet books checked out from the library, and now I can read them without feeling the urge to break out the yarn and sticks or hooks.











*Yarnitational Safety and Health Administration

I've lost my mojo

First, I lost half a skein of yarn to tangles. And I dropped 6 stitches about 5 rows down on the sock I was working on (still sitting waiting for me to fix or give up). Then the hat I crocheted for my Girl was small enough to fit her Cabbage Patch doll. Now this:

It's a skinny scarf made of recycled sari silk held together with a navy blue acrylic. I figured the navy yarn would tone down the loudness of the silk, while stabilizing the too-thin spots in the yarn. In my head, it would be a fun accessory when I'm wearing a plain outfit. I'd look quite artsy fartsy in it.

Nope.

Instead, it weighs 4.3 metric tonnes, curls in spite of the garter stitch edge, and the worst part is where I went to the second skein:

One end looks a little like my original vision. The other end looks like a pile of neon dryer lint. It is hideous. So now I have to decide the fate of this travesty of knits. Do I attempt to fix it (but HOW?), or do I sew it up, stuff it, put googly eyes on it and call it a fuzzy snake? Le sigh.

To top all of this off, I have been driving Nora to school because the little guy's stroller lost a wheel last week. I think it's fixable, but I haven't gotten around to it yet. This morning, I got the kids strapped into their seats, insert the key into the ignition, turn, and hear a deafening silence. Not even a sad click. Battery is d-e-d dead. No choice but to try to fix the stroller in the 30-degree garage. I fiddled with it for a few minutes, then realized that my fingers would freeze and Nora would be tardy to school long before I figured out the fix. So I picked up the Nige and off we went. Thanks to the snow covering everyone's sidewalks, we had to walk in the street amidst the school buses, high schoolers speeding to school, and a garbage truck.

We made it to school in time, and when I got back home I plugged the car into the charger, wheeled the stroller into the family room, and sat down here to warm up. Now I'm warm, so I need to go work on the stroller. Or maybe just ignore it and let Mr. Deplume cuss at it when he gets home. Yeah, that sounds like a better plan (sorry, Honey).

Yeee-uck, times two.

After my last post, the snow continued to melt, and the rain continued to fall. We ended up renaming our back yard "Lake Deplume." There is 2 inches of standing water in several places where lawn used to be. Then this morning, the snow started to fall again. Now I have two inches of 32-degree water, with two inches of snow on top. Then the temperature will drop tonight, turning the town into a skating rink. Lovely.

I am, however, blessed that I'm not in the South, where tornadoes lurk behind every cloud. I'm used to living in tornado alley in the spring and summer, but February twisters are just wrong. I saw a lady on the news who hid in the basement during the tornado, and came back up to find her entire house simply gone. She had not been able to find out yet if any of her horses or her dog had survived. It was heartbreaking.

Sorry for the downer. I'm just buried under a thick layer of cabin fever here, and it is starting to affect my brain. I have been knitting (and crocheting too), but have no decent light right now to snap pictures of anything. They promise sun for tomorrow, so maybe I can venture onto the front porch for some WIP shots then.

I was trying to type something else interesting here, but I got nuttin'. So I'm shutting off the computer and going to go knit a little.

Yeeee-uck

Last Friday we got 6 inches of snow. The kids and Daddy built a snowman. Now it is three days later, we've got rain and fog. And slush everywhere. Blech. And our poor snowman is shrinking. At least we have a good portrait of him in his youth.


I made some more progress on the crocheted half-moon shawl, but then last night, at the beginning of the 4th quarter of the Superbowl, tragedy struck. Yep, my worst enemy reared its ugly hea:, yarn barf. I worked at it for way too long, and I don't know if I made it better or worse. If I had a Wal-Mart close by, I'd just go buy a new skein of Simply Soft and be done with it. I might still do that. But not today. I'll instead work on cleaning the house. urgh.

Early morning.

The boy woke up at 4:30 this morning. He needed a "guy" to snuggle with. He wanted his Rudolph, so I trudged downstairs, located the red-nosed reindeer and delivered him. By the time I got there, Señor Wakeypants was already back to sleep. I sighed and went back to bed. It took a bit for me to settle in, but finally managed to doze a little, with a Lenten song* from last night's choir practice stuck in my head. It was 5:12 AM.

MMOOOOOMMMMYYYY!!! YOU FORGOT ABOUT MEEEE!!!! WHERE ARRRE YOUUU???


Crap.

The boy was expecting me to be there for him, and was upset that I had gone back to my own bed. I got in there to find that he is thirsty. And hungry. And cranky. So up we get, and head downstairs for a "snack" of mini wheats and water. It is now 6:48, I've had 3 cups of coffee, he's seen too much Max & Ruby (his new favorite show), and I am ready to start my day. Methinks it's going to be a long one.





* If, by chance, you are currently considering joining your church's choir, I suggest waiting until after March 21. Songs for Lent are not. fun. to sing. Talk about a downer!

I always knew I had latent hooker tendencies

Gosh, it's been too long since I've updated you, bloggie-dear. I apologize for neglecting you. I promise to take better care of you in the future.

And now for the post. I'm being pulled to the dark side: crochet. I tried many times to get the hang of it, and just couldn't. It was so bad that I avoided knitting patterns that had crocheted edgings on them. I was a sorry sorry case. Then, for Halloween, I managed a single crochet had for my daughter's costume. It wasn't too bad. The workmanship wasn't great, but it was still much faster than knitting the same thing. I'm a rather slow knitter, so that speed stuck in the back of my head.

This last week, I entered a stash-busting game on a message board, and figured that I'd never get any points if I tried to start and complete any knitting projects. Heck, a knitted dishcloth takes me two days. So I dove into some "how to crochet" videos and gave it another shot. I picked a pattern that consisted of only single and double crochet, and went to work. In only two hours, I had a completed object. TWO HOURS! This crochet thing just might have something to it after all.

Here's the rub. I cannot hook worth a damn when I do it like the people on the videos (and in the books). I have to hold the yarn in my right hand. It doesn't surprise me, as I cannot knit continental very well, either. I'm probably going to give myself carpal tunnel syndrome doing it that way, but I don't care. I'm managing to make stitches and follow a pattern, and it doesn't suck!

I won't bother posting a picture of the "spa cloth" I did on Tuesday, but you can look it up on Ravelry if you want. Yesterday I started a shawl for Nora. She's been wanting one, and even has the yarn picked out. I don't know how far the "good" yarn will go, so I started out on some acrylic that I had in the cupboard, and she likes that too. It's purple. Nora likes purple.


Pattern: Half-Moon Shawl by Lion Brand
Yarn: Caron Simply Soft, in bright purple.
Hook: 5.0mm

Blogstalking '08, Week Two. My needles.

I actually suggested this topic, "my knitting needles all in one place." I figured that it would be an easy one for me, since I mostly use my Knitpicks Options set for most things. But then I realized that I would have to round up my many WIPs and needles that I do not use often. Suddenly, I got scared. If I show all of it, then people will know about how many projects I have on the needles, with little to no hope of finishing. ouch. Maybe that should have been my "bad habit" post last week. I have developed a bad case of Cast-On-itis.

In the interest of good sportsmanship, I did round up a few WIPs for this assignment, but not all of them. There are at least three still sitting in project bags, not pictured. I would love to finish any of them, but between my desire to start new projects and my children and this here computer thingy, I don't hold out much hope for them.

But I digress. I'll get down to business. First up is the tin where my DPNs live. They are pretty happy in there, as it still smells like cookies, but I'd love to have a needle roll, so I didn't have to sort through them, then pull out the needle gauge to figure which ones I need. (That's on my very long sewing to-do list.)
And here are most of my needles, attractively displayed. I think metal needles are so pretty and shiny. They make me happy. Wooden ones are great, too, but I don't own any of them (anymore,that is. The boy broke my one pair), so I cannot vouch for the happy-factor of wood needles. The Knitpicks Harmony needles are awfully pretty, though.

And here is my favorite set. This is a vintage Boye Needlemaster set, as bought at auction by my grandmother. It apparently originally was owned by a woman named Louise Jones. I wonder if Louise agreed that it was the "most exciting knitting innovations ever." It really is quite a nifty concept, but the execution in the 1960's lacked a little.


Look at the cords. The things are huge. When stuck through my handy dandy needle-sizer, I find that they are equivalent to a US6 needle: a far cry from today's skinny cords. Funny enough, though, they aren't much less flexibly than some of the cheaper circs' cords I've tried. And the needle tips are actually a bit smoother and nicer than the modern Boye Knitmates needle(one-at-a-time version of the Needlemasters) I bought last year. When I was a novice knitter, I did complete a few projects on these. I'm quietly proud of that.


So there you have it, most of my needles in one place. Ta daa! Now I am going to sign off and use them a little bit.

What a weekend!

Urg. I feel like I'm becoming one of those complainery hypochondriacs these days. Really, we're not normally sickly people- I swear! But last weekend, Casa de Deplume became virus central once again. Friday night, the girl came down with the world's worst cold. Her ears hurt, her sinuses were going crazy, and she spent a lot of the weekend either in tears or asleep.

Saturday morning found my dear husband in the throes of some stomach bug. The boy had had it early in the week (although he certainly had a mild case), and we all thought we had managed to avoid it. The poor man was laid up for two whole days subsisting on one popsicle, ten animal crackers, one piece of toast and 2 liters of ginger ale. I haven't seen him that sick in 10 years. I managed to fight most of it off, but was definitely under the weather by Sunday night. The girl and the man both called in sick on Monday. I'm hesitant to say it, but I think we're all on the mend now.

On other fronts, the house is a total mess. The laundry (both clean-in-baskets and dirty) is piling up, and my stairway is still not finished. But I did catch up on the dishes yesterday, and tidied up my linen and clothes closets.

Last week I promised a post about a recycled sweater, but it awaits finishing. I've been unraveling while pedaling the recumbent bike in the TV room, and knitting it back up into a project while ignoring household chores the rest of the day. But the WIP is slow going. I'll post copious pictures when it is all done, I promise.

And now I shall bring this post to a close. I have to go tackle something domestic. And go buy chicken for dinner tonight, too.

Blogstalking week something-or-other: My bad habit

This one is easy:

Yep, my computer is a nasty nasty habit. I spend too much time with it (after all my friends live in there), and my house is messier than it should be (but who wants to clean, when she can browse at lolcats.com, right?). I knit less than I'd like (although I look at a whole metric ton of knitting each day, thanks to Ravelry), and I even manage to blog less than I want, thanks to the internet's siren song.

Oh well. Only one thing to do about it. That's to turn it off. But we all know that's not going to happen, right?

By the way, the computer behind the computer is not a bad habit. That's the computer I work on. It will be pressed into service tomorrow.

Recipes from my Grandmother's kitchen

Note: Please do not make this soap. It is posted as a bit of history, and some modern-day soap makers have informed me that you might maim yourself if you follow this recipe. And don't make tapioca in your soap pans. Apparently lye-flavored pudding is not the taste treat you might expect.

My Grandma Bug left this earth in May of 2007. She left behind a large number of recipes (not to mention a hundred thousand great memories), some of which I have taken into custody. I was flipping through some of them the other day, and came across one for soap. It made me smile. I don't know if Grandma ever used this particular recipe: I only recall her doing other frugal things like melting the soap scraps together to make new layered bars. But it is just so indicative of the old-fashioned country spirit around here that I have to share.


LEWIS LYE SOAP
1 box Lewis Lye in 1 qt rain water
2 qt used lard
2 c tallow
1/2 ammonia
1/2 c borax

In a stainless steel saucepan, dissolve 1 box of Lewis lye in 1 qt of rain water (stir with stainless steel spoon). Let cool. Than [sic] add 2 quarts used lard and be sure to have about 2 cups of tallow in this above amount of fat. Put lard in a small plastic bucket and stir in the cooled Lewis lye. Stir until thick. Then add 1/2 cup of ammonia and 1/2 cup of borax or Borateen. Stir until dissolved and pour into 1-quart milk containers. Slice in 6 or 7 pieces. Let it air dry. Do not let it get too hard before cutting or it will not cut well.
******************
Helen C___ and I watched Hilda L___ make this one day. After she was done with the soap she washed the stainless pan and spoon and made tapioca. Hilda was a neat lady!
Pat R___

I hope there re more gems like this. But then again, I might be the only person who gets a kick out of these things. In that case, Come back tomorrow for terribly exciting yarn recycling news!

Year-end reflections, 2007

The blogstalking assignment (yes, I know I've ignored 6 weeks of this, but I'm hopping back on the bandwagon again here) for this week is to do a reflection on 2007, and maybe a resolution or goal for 2008. Well, there are 4 hours left in the year, and I really don't know what to write. But I'll give it a shot.

Tangent: it snowed this afternoon. I just heard a snow plow go by. I really hope that the guy gets to be home to smooch his significant other by midnight. I know from experience the suckiness of having your spouse working on NYE (and Mother's day, Easter, Independence day, etc.)

Now back to the subject at hand. A reflection. I don't know what to write here. One thing that was mentioned was to state my "proudest moment." Hrm. I am drawing a blank here. I learned entrelac, I started knitting lace, learned to plaster a wall. My son learned how to use the potty (with my help). My daughter started kindergarten. I guess those all count.

As for resolutions, I typically don't make them. Partly because I think that if you need to make a change, you should make that change right then, not wait for January to do it. But really really really, I just know that I'll think about it for 3.7 weeks, then it will slip my mind. I assume that I tried to come up with something for New Year's 2007, but I have no idea what it was. Oh well.

If I were forced to make a resolution, it would be to exercise more. I love doing yoga, but have problems getting around to doing it outside of class. Mr. Deplume moved our recumbent bike up into the TV room, so maybe I'll get into the cardioi more. That would be a plus.

I dunno. This is a cop out year-end post, but it seemed like something I should do. I've grown tired of it now, and will sign off to snuggle with my family for the last time this year. I hope you all have a good night, and a lovely 2008.

Toe up from the Flo' up

toe-up sock WIP

Yes, lamest blog title ever. But what the hey. I'm just excited that I've managed the short row tow for my first ever sock. All the advice about learning sock knitting states that I should start with a child-sized sock in worsted weight yarn, so I can get the hang of it before starting a real sock with real sock yarn and teensy needles.

But I like to do things the hard way. So I started off with a ball of Trekking XXL, US1 needles, and Wendyknits' Toe Up sock pattern, and went to town. I did the first couple of wraps wrong, but I'm not much of a perfectionist when it comes to things that will be between my foot and the floor.

So I've managed, with only a little cursing, to complete one toe. I've gone a couple of rows past it, too, but the kids haven't been very cooperative, so progress is slow. Of course, if I stopped spending all my time playing around on the CPaAGG, I'd have more time to knit, too. The kids aren't totally to blame. ;)

I hope to get more done this weekend, but first on my list is my home's stairway. I got it primed, and some plastering done, and I'm really itching to finish it. It's been ugly for two years now-- time to find Teh Pretty.

I survived Christmas

After about 5 days of blind panic, knowing that I would not be able to get ready in time, Christmas got here and went off without a hitch. Except that apparently, I don't have enough spoons. We had the same number of people for Thanksgiving (21), and no one complained about lacking a spoon then. I'm not sure where they would have gone, so I'm stumped. It's one of the great mysteries of life, I guess.

I still have to take a dozen folding chairs, two card tables, and the extra utensils back to the basement, and find a place for the turkey carcass, but the house is in pretty good order. While I sat around after dinner, my sister was in the kitchen washing dishes. I felt guilty, but not enough to cause me to actually get up and help. I'll have to make sure to get her house cleaned up next time she hosts us all (her house is more suited to cookouts-- she gets Independence, Memorial and Labor Days and I get Easter, Christmas and Thanksgiving)

We decided to get a family picture around the tree, and out of the 30 shots, this is the best one. It's not standard, but it really captures us, I think.


That's all for today. I just finished the toe on my very first sock ever, so I'll post that later, if I get around to it. I'm quite proud of tackling (mostly) a short row toe on the first try. I attempted short rows once before, on a sweater, and it all went horribly wrong. This was much better. For now, I'm chalking it up to beginners luck. We'll see how I do when I get to the second sock.

Unknitting

I've been busy ripping apart sweaters. Now I just need to find someone with a postal scale I can borrow, so I can figure out my yardage. I hope to knit up some of my reclaimed yarn in January, once the Christmas decorations are put away and the inevitable holiday mess cleaned up.

You people really hate homework, huh?

here are just a few of the search terms entered to find my humble little blog so far this month:
homework is wrong
homework is very bad
what's wrong with homework?
homework oy
pictures resembling homework
down with homework wallpapers

Y'all have me laughing here. From British Columbia to Florida to Finland, no one likes doing homework. I understand, I really do. It's why I never went to grad school.

I finished Tudora

tudora FO
Originally uploaded by NormDeplume720

It was an easy and quick knit. I shortened the height by two rows, likewise the buttonhole band. I have such a small neck, I knew it wouldn't be a problem. And I was right. No modeling photos yet, as I've been sanding plaster and cleaning the kitchen today. I'm totally not fit for photos today. :)

Hey look- I cabled!

IMG_3450

I've finally succumbed to the draw of cables. I don't know why I resisted, but I did. I think it's my resistance to doing what everyone else is. I'm not punk rock anymore, so I have to embrace my inner nonconformist somehow. But I digress.

I immediately fell in love with Tudora when I saw the new Knitty. I'm drawn to small projects, as I lack the patience for sweaters. So I pulled some Paton's Classic Merino out of the stash, some 3.5mm needles, and cast on. I'm over halfway done now, and cannot wait to wear it.

This just in...

News flash from my three-year-old: Eating too many cookies makes you flat.

Happy Friday to all, and to all a good wine.

I need a back rub.

A month ago, my husband entered my name in a drawing for a free massage. A week later, I got a call from Susie with Turban* Chiropractic and Acupuncture in Morton, Illinois. Having recently survived The Consumption (the doctor called it bronchitis, but I think he was just trying to avoid reporting to the CDC), I jumped at the chance to have a massage. Especially one I didn't have to pay for.

So yesterday afternoon at 2pm I arrived, and was immediately given medical history forms. I've had massages other places where I've done similar paperwork, so I filled them out, skipping the insurance info section. When I turned them in, they asked me if I wanted to give them that info, so they could check with my insurance to see what chiropractic it pays for. Since I'm not in the market for a chiropractor, I declined. They tried again, I declined again.

Then the girl called me back, and took me to a room with a desk. No massage in here. I began to get irritated. I should have walked out then and gone to the yarn store. They left me alone in this office to watch a 5-minute video about how great chiropractors are. When over, the gal came back in, and interrogated me about all my aches and pains. I was then led to an exam room. Again, the urge to go yarn shopping struck.

I should have listened to my instincts. The Dr came in, gave me a thorough evaluation, told me of my high hip, my probable neck misalignment, and how he could put my rib back in (the break from a few weeks ago apparently "threw out a rib") and proceeded to try to truck me off for x-rays.

X-rays?? I'm here for a massage! You know: soft music, low lights, a masseuse?

Anyway, after a pretty hard sell on the x-rays (and of course, follow up care and payment plans), which I resisted, he deemed me eligible for the massage. He gave me a <5-minute "trigger point massage," then took me back to a cubicle with an aqua massage table. This was not one of the fancy types you see in the mall: this was a blue Naugahyde bench, whose upper half resembled a water bed. I laid down on it, he turned it on, and I sat through 15 minutes of loud jets of water pummelling me in the neck back and, because I'm a touch short, my butt cheeks. Have I mentioned that while sitting there, I was staring at two bare fluorescent light bulbs (the shop light tube-types).

I think I sprained an eyeball from all the eyerolling. I wonder if he can fix eye sprains, too. If, by chance, you win a free massage from Turban Chiropractic in Morton, IL, do not bother. You should just go fondle some yarn.




Speaking of yarn, I finished something last week. I made the Easy Triangle Shawl from Lion Brand's website. It was started at my church's weekly charity knitting group, but I don't know who I should give it to. Meanwhile, my daughter loves to wear it around. I stopped knitting after the ninth repeat, as I was bored of it. (I'm horrible about that) But between my premature bind-off, and the fact that I cannot block it (it's acrylic), it's just not really big enough to snuggle up in. Live and learn, I guess. Regardless, it is actually rather pretty in person, and I just might knit the pattern again in a yummy yarn.

* Name changed to protect the pushy.

I promise I'll be back soon.

After 2 weeks of pain and setbacks and holidays, I think I might finally be back on the road to recovery. I managed to come down with a cold this weekend, which sucks, but such is life in the Midwest in November. But I've been knitting a little, and decorated one of the two Christmas trees in the house so far, so I owe the blog some photos. And I'm way behind on Blogstalking assignments, too.

So much fun, and so little time. ;)

I still live.. mostly

Last Sunday, I considered posting here that I was feeling better, and might actually be posting something of note in the near future. I really felt like I was finally getting over the bronchitis that had plagued me for over a week. I've heard of typing things like that jinxing things, but I didn't know that even the very thought of typing such hopeful words could send the bad juju action my way. Sunday night, about 11:30, I sat up in bed to cough a bit, felt a pop, and was greeted with searing pain in my back. I had just coughed my way to a broken rib.

In case you had not heard, broken ribs hurt like H-E-doublehockeysticks. I fell back asleep, only to wake up a couple of hours later nearly immobile. I managed to whimper a little, then work my way downstairs to take some of the narcotic cough syrup the doctor has prescribed on Thursday. I got myself to the couch, cried a little bit, then fell asleep. When Mr. Deplume got up at 4am for work, I told him about my troubles. He offered to stay home from work for the day, waited on me hand and foot, and took me to the doctor, who prescribed me some very nice pain pills.

Some friends and family members took charge and brought some dinners and got the girl to and from school for me, and for that I will be forever grateful. After two days on the couch, mostly asleep from the drugs, I am again mobile, and mostly narcotic-free. I am still moving very slowly, however, in what can only be described as a cross between Tim Conway's Old Man character from the Carol Burnett Show and Leaning Tower of Pisa. It's not pretty.

Of course I am still cursing under my breath every time I cough, but I am moderately sure that I will live.

I even managed to knit a little this morning, finishing a pair of mittens for the boy. I don't think I'm going to attempt to catch up on the blogstalking I've missed, though. I buried enough as it is in stuff that needed to be done last week. Sorry, folks. You won't get to see a picture of my oatmeal.

An upper respiratory haiku

I post here to whine
hacking cough, fever, sore throat
will i recover?

Blogstalking Week Seven: oldest picture of me.

I'm so lucky that my parents have scanned many old photos into their computer , then sent them to me. Otherwise, the oldest picture I could find would probably have been from my high school production of "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying."

This here photo is of me (the baby), my brother Matt, who died when I was one, and I'm still a little angry about it (damned leukemia), and my older sister Kirsten. My parents still have those encyclopedias in their living room. So many school reports plagiarized from them over the years....


I hope Week eight is a real humdinger. I need a little kick in the creative writing patootie.

What's wrong with this picture?

I found some great new reusable shopping bags at the entry of the grocery today, so I picked up 5 of them. I've had a couple of nylon ones for awhile now, which are nice, but they run $5-7 a piece, and these new ones were $.99 each. I'm really happy to have the option now in my tiny burg. Since I was only picking up a few things, I only needed one of the bags. I had the kids and a gallon of milk plus the groceries to deal with, so the checker bagged the extra bags for me. I almost told her to take the plastic bag back and just let me carry the others (or let Rapunzel carry them), but the sight was so funny, I just let it ride.

Is it sad that my first thought was "I cannot wait to put this in the blog"??


In bigger news, I finished the girl's Halloween costume. last night. That's like 12 hours to spare! See? proof positive that I am not a procrastinator (a fibber, though, I seem to be). I made the flannel dress, hat, and hair, and my mama made the satin shrug and overskirt. I'm particularly proud of the wig. It started out a crocheted beanie, then I latch-hooked 100 pieces of "hair" to it. It is my very first successful attempt at crochet, as well as my triumphant return to latch hooking, a skill which I mastered as a kid, then laid to the side until now. Thank goodness I made all those odd rug kits in the 1970's, eh?

There are more pictures here. And of course at Ravelry.

My mama made the "Dooperman" costume. The boy is in love. He's worn it nearly every day since he got it last week.

Yum

I made pizza last night. And it rocked. Homemade pizza is so very much better than the crap from any of the pizza joints around here. This little guy had homemade sauce, mushrooms, onions, spinach, and sun dried tomatoes and basil from my very own garden. I have always used the pizza crust recipe from the Kitchen Aid mixer cookbook, but this time I tried a new one on the suggestion of a friend. It is very good, although I didn't add enough flour (ran out. oops). It was really sticky and hard to work with, but the texture was great once it was cooked.


I haven't been dong much knitting, as I've been working on the girl's Halloween costume. Making a Rapunzel wig is tedious at best. I have a little more "hair" to add to it still, and I need to finish the dress. My mama is making her an extra overskirt and shrug out of pink sparkly material. She's going to be the prettiest princess a t the ball, I tell ya!

It's official: I'm punking out.

Week six of Blogstalking: pictures of a day in my life. I tried to do this. I really did. On Sunday, I got up and started it in earnest. I showed my morning roost, which is usually coffee and a little Ravelry. I also got some work done while sitting there.

We played hooky from church that day, as there was to be a pageant, and no Sunday school. It just wasn't my cup of tea. So Mr. Deplume and the kids made pancakes:

Then we needed to head into town to buy a birthday present, and I needed elastic and bias tape for the girl's Halloween costume. She's going to be Rapunzel, which is much better than her original idea: a zombie.

While out, the small headache that was there when I awoke got bad. Very bad. We cut our shopping trip short and I came home and went to bed (very rare for me). The headache was so bad that I dreamed I hit my head on a cabinet. I've never ever dreamt about a headache before. That was odd. I woke up two hours later, feeling better, but no more pictures for the day. The pain wasn't completely gone until Monday morning. It didn't feel like a migraine, but it sure was a doozy.

I was going to re-try the picture thing yesterday, but forgot until it was too late. And I'm just not feeling it today. Since week seven's assignment will be out tomorrow, I'm officially throwing in the towel. You all will not get a "Day in the Life" from me.

Sorry. I know everyone was really excited to see me washing dishes and scrubbing crayon off the walls. Maybe someday.

Check me out, being so very domestic

I'm not really a stranger to domesticity. I rather enjoy it. But I took the summer off of baking, as I hate heating up the kitchen when the air conditioning is on. So now that it is fall, I've got the baking bug again.

A few weeks ago, I started a sourdough starter. I tended it and kept it safe, and it did what it was supposed to do: smell like sour socks and bubble when fed. Until I tried to make bread out of it. Today was my second failed attempt, and I think I'm ready to throw in the towel. I'm fairly handy with regular yeast breads, and I'm going to go back to what I know. I'll leave the sourdough to the experts. ;)

So at 2pm my need for fresh baked goods had as yet been unmet, and I also needed to come up with a plan for dinner. I remembered that a friend had given me her homemade tortilla recipe. So pulled it out (well, I looked it up on the computer; I never would have been able to find a paper recipe on command) and made a batch of flour tortillas. They are certainly not the roundest or prettiest tortillas ever, and I didn't add enough salt, so they don't taste perfect either, but all in all, not bad for a first attempt. They are good enough that I'll be serving them for dinner tonight.

Angry

Last year, we grew pumpkins in our back yard, next to the alley, and someone stole the best ones right off the vine after the high school homecoming game. (We live a block from the town's high school.) I ended up buying pumpkins for the kids to carve. I didn't want the heartbreak again so this year we stuck with tomatoes, peas and pole beans in our garden.

Fast forward to this fall. Everyone on my block has a cute display of pumpkins, cornstalks, straw bales, etc for the season. Last Sunday, the girl and I drove to a little farm and got a bunch of pumpkins and gourds and some cornstalks for our front yard. This morning, Mr. Deplume goes outside to find a smashed pumpkin down the street. Then he saw another one. He just knew what had happened. Some assholes came by and stole all but one of our pumpkins and did this to them.


I am so angry I cannot see straight. To make matters worse, ours were the only ones destroyed! There are still a bunch of happy and healthy pumpkins in front of everyone else's homes. Have I angered a gang of small-town hooligans? By the way, it is very hard for me not to simply type a long line of expletives about what I think of jerks smashing our pumpkins, but I know this is a family blog, so I'm trying to keep it clean. I did leave a note for the farging bastitches, in case they come by again.

Total dork alert!

I like a good superhero movie. I looove Robert Downey Jr. (I even loved him when he was all addicted and wandered into that kid's bedroom and passed out.) So you might be able to imagine my anticipation for the Iron Man movie coming out next year. And to make it all worse, they made a really super duper kickass trailer for it. May 2008 is so very far away. **sobs into her mittens**

I'm Claire! Imagine that?!?

I love these wierd and unscientific quizzes. I figured I'd share this one. :)

Which woman from the Outlander series are you?

You are Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser. You are resourceful, practical and a strong woman. You're not afraid to stand up for yourself or do whatever is needful for those you love, whatever the risk to yourself. You have a gift for healing and you are a faithful lover.
Take this quiz!








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Blogstalk week 5: interesting statues

The trouble with this assignment is that my teeny town has no neat statues. There might be some, but I don't know where they are. The nearest city with stuff worth sharing is 30 miutes away, and I don't feel like driving that far for a blog assignment. (Sorry knittyfolks). So you get statue-like things from my home, instead.

First up, the trophy given to my husband by his father, upon the birth of our daughter, 5.5 years ago. His dad really loves a good desk decoration. Unfortunately, my husband gave up his desk job 4.5 years ago, so this became a nick-knack in the house. It's cute, but doesn't really match the decor. (Please note the poetic license in that last sentence-- people who have been in my house know that there is no 'decor')

Next, my favorite little guy. He looks to be handmade from metal fittings, and spray painted green and copper. My mother accidentally bought him at an estate auction. If you are unfamiliar with auctions, sometimes the one thing you are looking for ends up in a box with other crap. This is both good news and bad: it typically means that the item you want will ultimately be pretty inexpensive, but it also means that you bring home a box of junk you neither need nor want. This is one of those happy accidents. My mom didn't want it, but I find it to be pretty clever, and he found a home in my front garden, between the clump of ornamental grass and the rose bush.

Last up, an afterthought. This is another gift. We like hot sauce, we like smooching naked, perfect for us, right? But it doesn't go with my decor either. I keep thinking I should open it and use it, but I don't think it would fit in the fridge.

So there you have it. Another phoned-in blogstalking assignment. As penance for my slackerosity, I'll include some knitting content. This is 1/2 of a pair of mittens, from the pattern Gifted, by Kate Gilbert. They are made using Wool-Ease double-stranded and US 10-1/2 needles. After working of lace for awhile, this feels like using drumsticks to knit. The "P2tog TBL" on giant sticks is particularly challenging to me, although it might be easier on less-slippery needles (I'm a Knitpicks Options gal). I really prefer working on about a US5 needle. Once the Luna Moth shawl is done, I'm going to learn socks. Who knows, I may fall in love with even smaller projects. I do like a challenge. :)

gifted WIP

I've been fooling myself.

Since I only started knitting last year, and I'm a frugal gal, I assumed that I had not amassed much of a stash. I only buy when I get a good deal, I'm particular about what I buy, etc. But my eyes have been opened: I decided to repurpose an armoire to make it home to all my knitting paraphernalia. Until now, it's mostly been in those giant Ziploc bags in my basement on some shelves. A little here, a little there, a little on the bookcase in my den. I had no idea I owned this much yarn.

Now I know that this is a paltry showing compared to many fiber addicts, but I really am very cheap. And picky. And I only began knitting in earnest less than a year ago. I'd better get the old needles humming if I want to reclaim my "non-stasher" title. Or maybe I never deserved the title in the first place.

brrr.

Four days ago, it was 92 degrees here. It is currently a blistering 55. I wanted fall to come. I really did. But I did not want to have to go directly from air conditioning to layer upon layer of wool to keep warm. I have not turned on my heat yet. I only turned the AC off 3 days ago. But it is sooo ccccoooold in here. I just made an afternoon pot of coffee (a rarity around my house). I have baked two days in a row. The baked goods do make the house smell nice, but all the homemade goodness will put me in danger of outgrowing my only two pairs of jeans. I outgrew two others this summer already.

I just want to curl up in front of a fire. But we don't even have a fireplace to keep us warm. *sob*





4:30 p.m. update:
I gave in and turned on the heat. It's supposed to be 38 degrees tonight. With that sort of chill outside, I'd freeze my bazangas off before daybreak. Not to mention the boy who seems to be allergic to blankets.

Blogstalking week Four: Stuff I love and/or hate

This week's task is to name three things I love and three things I hate. That's a lot of picture taking. So I thought I'd be clever and take just three pictures to signify all six items. It almost worked, too, but try as I might, I could find no love in the third picture. My internal need for things to work out "just so" has kept me from posting anything all week. Until now, that is. I am boldly laughing in the face of my obsession with this, and posting my irregular and imperfect loves and loathes.


First up, the easy one. I love my Tivo. I had planned on discussing my hatred of commercials. But then I uploaded my photo and realized something. I apparently hate dusting, too. Actually, I don't hate dusting so much, I just don't get around to it very often. I'm a sub-par housekeeper. I hate that about myself.


Second photo. This is a bit of an easy one, really. I love knitting lace. It feeds my need for instant gratification in a way that making garments just cannot. There is a LOT of knitting, then waiting for the other parts to be knit, then seaming, blabbadee blabbadah before a hank of yarn becomes a sweater. Conversely, with lace, each row is a new part of the pattern. It is constantly changing and growing and blossoming into a piece of art. This particular one is my beginnings of the Luna Moth Shawl from elann.com. The pattern is pretty easy, though, which can lull one into a false sense of security.

Which brings me to hate #2: I hate when I get cocky and neglect to count the number of stitches in each row. I managed to get one extra stitch in row 35, and because I was so sure that I rock at knitting lace, I went ahead and not only knit row 36 on top of it, I put a lifeline in. It wasn't until I started the next pattern row that I realized my error. That's a lot of tinking. Argh.


Third photo. This is the one for which I have no love. I hate my bedroom closet door. I hate this thing with a white hot passion. Why on earth would anyone take down a perfectly good closet door only to replace it with a hollow core sliding door that slips of its track at least once a day. And for reasons unbeknownst to me, it doesn't fit correctly into the lower track, so It swings loose at the floor. The cat enjoys batting at it while I sleep. I used to think that she was trying to push it open to get in there for various and sundry nefarious cat purposes, but I was mistaken. She bats at it so that I will wake up. When I stir, she runs over to me and purrs and rubs her little kitty noggin on my hand. The little shit is waking me up on purpose for midnight tickles. I hate that too.

And don't get me started on the fact that instead of real moulding around the door openings, the previous owners used lumber. Plain old 1x4s. They neither mitred nor sanded it before slapping it up on the wall around the room. Another thing about which I have no love.

There are lots of things in this life I do love, however most of them are not photographable. (is that a word?) Here's a quick list of some off the top of my head (in no particular order, of course). I love that when my daughter put on her hat and scarf this morning, she stated that she was "all bungled up and ready to go." I love that my son calls his favorite fruit "blannas." I love that our home is less than 3 blocks from the girl's school, so we can walk there every morning. I love that my husband is home most evenings, and that he's a really super dad. I love that my parents are both still here with me on this earth. I'd miss them terribly if they weren't so close. I love that we have a roof over our heads and a little money in the bank. I really do love my life, even if I bitch about it a lot.

So there you have it. Some things I love and some things I hate. Pretty close to the assignment. As my dad would say, "close enough for government work."

A rare FO sighting!

Bainbridge scarf
Originally uploaded by NormDeplume720

I finished the Bainbridge Scarf last night. Today, it is a blistering 90 degrees out. Figures, eh? I posted more details on Ravelry. I apologize to anyone not yet in Ravelry. If you want my pattern notes, just reply here and I'll let you know what I did. Of course, with that apology, I've probably just typed more than if I just typed it out here, anyway.


I was going to type more now, but the boy has had a lovely Sunday afternoon meltdown, and I probably need to go relieve the husband from kid duty. It's tough work parenting AND watching football at the same time, you know.

How I get from here to there. And back again

**Please do not judge the quality of this blog by this entry. I wanted to get it in before the new Blogstalking topic comes out tomorrow, and I still have to do laundry, make dinner, finish a birthday present for a party tomorrow, and go to yoga class. This is a C- entry for sure.

I was going to take a picture of my 2000 Hyundai Sonata, complete with child safety seats and the boy's artwork (said artwork being ball point pen on the steering wheel hub). But then I realized that I only drive it about twice a week. The rest of the time it's all Flintstone power. That being said, my feet are much prettier than Fred's, and to keep them pretty, I wear shoes.


By the way, those are my new shoes, by way of Clarks and TJMaxx. Not only are they comfy and cute, they are also made outside of China. That's not easy to find these days. Even the fancy schmancy pricey brands are mostly made there. And none of their websites have statements on their policies on product safety or sweatshops. ("None" might be an overstatement, but I haven't found any. If you have any information on companies that actually disclose this stuff, please let me know. I'm always on the lookout.) In this day and age, that's surprising to me. It also leads me to believe one of two things: either those companies have no specific policies on product safety and labor, or they are hiding something. Either way, I'm being a very picky shopper.

Now this isn't exactly part of the Blogstalking assignment, but I'm also including what the boy gets around in. He's plenty old enough to walk most places with me, but having him strapped in gets us from point a to point b much faster (and safer, too). Since we're usually running late getting out the door to walk the girl to school, I am usually accompanied by this, the Nigel-mobile.


So that's the big story of how we get around. Small-town life has it's advantages, you know.