Apron Strings

My Daughter's Freshman Scholar's Assignment...

2009-02-24T16:53:00.001-08:00

I have not blogged in a while...kids, the house, various catastrophies have all conspired to keep me from being really, truly creative. I don't have to be, though, because I have Ione's schoolwork to thrill and inspire me.
School sure has changed a lot since I went. I don't know if my teachers would have understood what my child has written here, but I hope that *her* teachers have a good sense of humor. Having said that, I present to you Ione's Freshman Scholar's Assignment:

Zeus’s Umbrella

Zeus’s Umbrella is a magic device that protects you from Zeus’s evil rains. You will always be safe under the protection of zeus’s umbrella ella ella. They are magic and can help you fly. They come in every color except purple, white, and chartreuse. Zeus’s umbrellas can be used for protection, hiding, assaulting and lightning reflecting. They can also do your homework and walk your dog. ORDER NOW AT USEPROTECTION.COM OR CALL 666-6666 AND GET YOU ZEUS’S UMBRELLA FOR FIVE EASY PAYMENTS OF $29.95. ZEUS’S UMBRELLAS MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE. All you have to do is believe!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So order now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Useprotection.com

666-6666

USE PROTECTION. DON’T GET WET

Our tax dollars at work so that Ione can practice her comedic skills. I am so proud.

Vacuum, Shmacuum...

2008-12-11T19:01:00.001-08:00

I just bought a Dyson Animal Vacuum cleaner. It's almost Christmas and I had to spend money on a vacuum. I feel guilty to my very core, but there's nothing I can do. I have floors, I have rugs, I have animals, therefore I must clean. Vacuums and I have a long, sad history, beleaguered with problems, heartache, and expense. I remember my husband and I, a young couple with a 5 month old baby and a carpeted apartment, going to Montgomery Ward to purchase one. (Why in the hell did we go to Montgomery Ward? Who goes there? Do they still exisit? Why didn't we just go to Target?) After much hand wringing and knashing of teeth as we fretted with the sales lady over motor strength and price, we walked out with a vacuum that literally broke down every time we rolled it over something harder than a large ball of lint. Imagine the horror of a young mother who can't keep her floors immulate for her baby; what if the little thing gets dirty? So the years passed and we bought cheap vacuum after cheap vacuum, never spending more than $80.00 or so, but never managing to keep the same one for more than a few months, or if we were lucky, a year. This frustrated me, and my frustration led me, powerlessly, almost as if in a trance, to Costco, that delightful warehouse store to beat all warehouse stores. I sweated, I wrung my hands, I grabbed strangers by the arm and, pointing at the display of Dysons, asked, "Do *you* have one of these????" The thought of spending $349.00 on something that will make extra work for me was horrifying. If a vacuum doesn't work well, why should I vacuum my couch and chair cushions? If it's just going to spit the dirt back out at me, why bother vacuuming the stairs? I can sit and knit, or cuddle with 6 year old and watch "Spongbob Squarepants." But I reluctantly put the big box with the little picture of that handsome Englishman who talks about "cyclone technology" in the commercial in my cart, and trying not to throw up, went to the registers and paid for it. Normally a big purchase will give me a thrill. $300 on a chest freezer? That made me feel like a real woman for the first time in my life. Forget childbirth and breastfeeding like a freaking superhero; the beauty of that pristine, white appliance sent chills down my spine as I anticipated large, bulk quanties of food purchased and nestled snugly within it's shiny walls. Several hundred dollars dropped on a Kitchenaid mixer? I was high for weeks! The bread dough...the cookies...the muffins! Oh, the delight of gazing at my beautiful mixer while reveling in my good fortune. Shouldn't the purchase of a lovely purple vacuum fill me with the same sense of domestic well being? No, because I look at it and wonder if it, too, will betray me like the dozens of vacuums that came before it. I don't trust that label that boasts, "5 Year Warranty!!!!!!!" It may be *lying* to me. What if it breaks? What if it can't withstand the torture of white Boxer hair, cat fur, and non-clumping cat litter? But then again, maybe I'll end up loving it. Maybe it will be everything that the commercials proclaim it to be. Maybe it will be so amazing that my children will fight over it when I die! So tomorrow, I will carefully open the box, and read the directions and warranty information meticulously before I assemble the purple amazingness that is a Dyson Animal. Because god knows, I sign loan documents, medical documents, and cell phone contracts with nary a glance, but this is a $349.00 vacuum cleaner, damn it! You can't be too careful!

I'd Walk Over You To See The Who....

2008-11-12T17:35:00.000-08:00

Okay, I know, that's really not funny. It's making light of a tragic event that happened in the '70s when some unfortunate concert goers were trampled because not enough doors were opened at a concert venue. Crowd control is better these days, thank goodness, so we music lovers can go forth and see our favorite artists without fear of a freakish, accidental death. And I most certainly did that last week (although any time I venture more than a few miles from my children I wonder what would happen if I died, but I digress...) I saw The Who with my friend Tammi.

It was my third time seeing them. The first time was back in 1982, more than 26 years ago. The tour was "It's Hard". I was all of 16, and vaguely asking my father if I could *please* drive to Lexington, Kentucky to see The Who, with my best friend Chris, her boyfriend John (who is now my husband) and John's friend Keith. There is a faint memory of Daddy agreeing to this, and honestly, what father *wouldn't* allow his young daughter to be transported across state lines by two young men who are 18 years old? I shudder at the thought when I look at my own daughters, but the kid in me is very glad that he let me go. Honestly, I barely knew who they were at that time, but they quickly became my favorite. Everyone else I knew loved The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones (we were rebel kids and eschewed most new music at that time...) but I fell in love with The Who and couldn't get enough.

The second time was with that young man who drove me and my lucky friend to Kentucky, only this time, I was the lucky one in the front seat with him. We went to Atlanta, Georgia, and it was the "Tommy" reunion tour back in '89, I think. We had a wonderful time, my life was complete; I'd seen my favorite band a second time and that was enough.

And I lost interest for a long time. Parenthood took priority; music was something in the background and most of the time *that* was Disney or Raffi. But then I started noticing The Who (the two who remain) all over cable T.V., documentaries, "VH1 Rock Honors", and what have you. One morning, surfing on the computer, I discovered they were touring, with tickets on sale for a show in D.C. and it seemed possible, but maybe not... I'd never been to D.C. before. Could I drive there? John will be deployed. Should I go alone? Is it stupid, too much money, irresponsible, and what about *the kids*??? After talking to John, I just went ahead and bought tickets, and let the rest of it work itself out. My friend Tammi was my date, my friend Susan slept over with my big kids, my friend Rosemary kept my little ones and Tammi's husband Lou provided an awesome free hotel room with his Mariott points. So we drove up, threw our bags in our room, drove to the station and took the metro into Chinatown, and here is what we saw:

Warning: Horrible pictures!

It was an awesome show, with the exception of Hoodie Boy (see obnoxious blue striped hoodie in top photo), who blocked our view for a good part of the concert. Neither of us ever got a good view of Roger Daltrey or Pete Townshend at the same time, only little bits and snatches as we stood on tiptoe and craned our necks. It was a *good* time, though. They were generous and very gracious, playing hard for well over two hours. The music was familiar and comforting, everything I loved to listen to when I was experiencing those hard, grueling years of trying to grow up. Roger Daltrey joked at the end about feeling like he'd gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson, but he looked just fine from where I was standing. Both he and Pete were in top form, Roger hitting every note and Pete just as amazing as ever, if not quite as agile on the feet as he was in his earlier years. They're in their 60's, but I think they've got a lot of good years left in them. Maybe even another tour or two. Please? I'd love to go for Number Four, and god knows, I'd Walk Over You To See The Who.

Obligatory Blog Post...

2008-10-09T16:26:00.000-07:00

I am stopping in the middle of an insane number of vital, household responsiblities to reflect on the pleasant "triumphs" of my week in an effort to convince myself that I am, indeed, keeping things under control.

Notice my lovely, compliant Boxer. She is putty in my hands most of the time, letting me pose her in ridiculous contortions and humiliate her on the internet. Sometimes I play with her lips and roll them back in such a manner as to expose her extreme underbite, allowing her bottom teeth to protude up over her top lips. It's amusing. As she has helped drain my checking account, she owes me *at least* this much. I think I'll knit her a hideous sweater with dinosaur spikes and make her wear it. Vandie was Ione's idea, but she's mine, all mine. I'll do with her as I wish. Muuuwaaaahahahahahah!

I'm now a Loopy Groupy! Last week's sock yarn purchase turned into a windfall of knitting goodness: an awesome vinyl bag, a keychain, candy (!!), a beautiful skein of sockyarn, and a nice pattern. I wasn't expecting any of it, which made it all the more exciting. I'm convinced that Sheri at the Loopy Ewe is one of the most thoughtful people in the world; it takes a special soul to be that generous with clients, and this one most certainly is grateful. It's good to get a present after a crappy week.

Notice the lovely skeins. The multi-color is Gypsy Knits DK in the Sea Legs colorway. The turquoise and brown is J Knits Sock Yarn. I am enthralled. Vandie was, too; so much so that she tried to eat both skeins. I saved them.

Homeschooling! Jillian is into the Ancient Egypt portion of her _Story of the World_ curriculum. We mummified an apple, leaving the raw chicken to braver folks.

A sarcophagus for the apple mummy:

Proof that I am not going to hell in a handbasket: a nutritious meal for my spawn. Tofu Noodle Casserole from the _Vegetarian Family Cookbook_ by Nava Atlas. Great cookbook. I did put in more cheese than it initially called for. Like five times the recommended amount. What? Everybody doesn't quintuple the amount of cheese in every recipe they cook? Oh. Well. I did give them broccoli, too.

Hey Yall, Watch This!

2008-09-20T11:48:00.000-07:00

Today was the day to take air conditioners out of the window. It's a tough job, and with John and all his mad muscle power gone, Kirsten's boyfriend, Ben, kindly offered to do it for me. One of the air conditioners, however, stopped blowing cold midway through the summer, so I suggested just tossing it in the garbage can. Ben suggested putting said garbage can under the window and just letting it drop. (In all fairness, those A.C.s are heavy and he had already taken several down to the basement.) So that's what we did:

I didn't realize the video would be sideways when I was taking it. I held the camera wrong in order to get the full shot, so we have to turn our heads to see it. Still funny, though, and a brilliant look at *Coping: Navy Family Style*.

We Have an F.O.!!!!

2008-09-17T15:59:00.000-07:00

Here is my lovely daughter, Ione, modeling said F.O. ("finished object" for those of you who aren't hip to my mad knitting language skills, yo.) This one nearly sucked the life out of me. Great pattern, no mistakes, easy as all get out, but I just didn't enjoy it. Too much purling and too much reading. If you don't mind reading and purling, however, this is the scarf for you. It's really pretty, though!

Bella the Cat is pleased to present a doggy sweater pattern from Fiber Trends, and some very lovely rose colored Encore Worsted yarn. I bought the lot from The Naked Sheep. I love to order from her. Okay prices, but a good variety, and her shipping is amazingly low. I'm always happy with my purchases. I'm going to make a sweater for Vandie (the bane of poor Bella's existance). Vandie's hair is very thin and I'm concerned that she'll be too cold this winter. Hopefully she won't eat the sweater when I'm not looking. Guess we need to work on the whole "don't act like a wild monster" thing, eh?

Saying Goodbye....

2008-09-10T05:00:00.000-07:00

So we dropped John off at the ship Monday morning, then came back a couple of hours later to watch the ship pull away. The kids hung out with friends and we had a fine view. I even got to see John standing in some large hole in the ship...well, his sillouette anyway, and I could see his hand waving. We won't see him again for seven months.

Here's the ship after the tug pushed it out and away from the pier Although sad, it was extremely cool watching it go. I'm really glad we went.

After we tortured ourselves watching it float away, we headed to Oceanview where we saw this:

Then we chatted for a bit, watching the rest of the battle group go by. Jillian found a dead crab. I am impressed that she picked it up. Once your dad leaves for what's an infathomable amount of time, picking up dead crap is not a big deal.

I'm trying not to think about how much this is going to suck, for John and for me. We'll be fine, because we always are, but the whole process is truly like pushing a piano up a staircase. Nobody in their right mind would ever attempt it, so that doesn't say a lot of good things about those of us who do this over and over. Missed birthdays, missed anniversaries, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine's Day (well, I hate that one, so that's okay, but...) It really takes a toll. I think about the families who've never done a deployment, or haven't done many. The pregnant moms who'll deliver during this deployment, and the dads who are leaving behind newborns, the little kids who are dealing with it for the first time. The families with problems who'll have to do their best without a second parent at home. It's a long time to wait, and it's a hard transition when the sailors come home. Be nice to that Navy family that you know; they put up with a lot and really don't expect much, but there are some things that we'd like to avoid, which leads me to:

THINGS YOU SHOULD NEVER SAY TO NAVY SPOUSE Who's Husband is on a Lengthy Deployment:

"That's not so bad." Uh, yeah it is. Even if it's a two week workup, it *is* that bad. Two weeks out may very well have been preceded by a week in, which may have been preceded by six weeks out. Or the ultimate insult: out for 29 day, pulling in for one day, then leaving again for six. Why? Because if a sailor is underway for over a month, the Navy has to pay separation pay. They will literally pull in to avoid giving sailors extra money. So yes, that two weeks is bad. Exception: the wife who's sailor is gone for the real deal. She can say whatever the hell she wants to.

"Wow. I could never leave my wife for that long." Really!?! Why would anyone say something like that? It's not like all of us Navy wives are reeling in self-esteem! Our husbands, for whatever reasons, chose a career that takes them away for long periods of time. They aren't kidnapped from shore, indentured, and forced to go on a Med Cruise. They sign a piece of paper willingly. There is no coersion. Dude-that-said-that-to-me, you are a creton, and I feel sorry for your wife if you are always that insensitive.

"My wife and I like each other waaaaay too much to be away from each other like that!" Again, *Really??!!??* Okay, first of all, *I doubt that* and second of all, I challenge you to a "Marriage-Off" anytime, anyday. I've been married to this guy for over 20 years, and for the most part, I think we've had a below-average amount of problems in our marriage. We still have sex, more than average most likely, we still snuggle, when he's home we're in the same bed, we still go out on fabulous dates, we hold hands, and we throw our legs all over each other while we're trying to get comfortable at night. I'm willing to bet we'll be like those old couples you see holding hands in the grocery store, so think about *that*, you insensitive tool. You have been served.

"I don't know how you people do it. Well, if you take a liking to the mailman, use a rubber." Uhm..."you people"????? A "rubber"???? Like I'm too stupid to understand the word "condom"??? *I kid you not.*The OB-GYN who delivered my first child said this to me. I was 24 years old, had just had a C-section, John was in Egypt on Med-Cruise, and I was about to be discharged from the hospital. When *he who shall not be named* asked me what my birth control plans were, I innocently answered, "Well, I don't really need birth control. My husband's in the Navy and won't be home until December." This OB (and I won't be tacky and post his name) ruined my pregnancy, ruined my birth, was disrespectful to me, and I will bet money that he's got one of those obnoxious "Support the Troops" magnets on his expensive car. Oh, what the hell, I was born tacky, and tacky I shall be. Robert E. Bledsoe is this charming prince's name. I doubt if anyone in McMinn County, Tennessee who's shopping for a birth attendant is reading my humble blog. If so, ladies, you have been warned.

You know, I think it's a simple matter of thinking before you speak. Nobody's perfect, and it's hard to put yourself in the shoes of someone going through something that you may never deal with. Everybody's experience is different, and there are harder things than the Navy. Just being alive, raising a family, and surviving should humble us and make us more gentle with each other. Being human, being *nice* is the key. That's not a far stretch for any of us. And when I'm grumpy, when I'm ready to kill my kids, when I'm exhausted from carrying a more-than- full load, I'll try to remember how it feels when others are thoughtless to me, and I'll do my best to think before I open my mouth and pollute the world with a lot of hot, ignorant air.

Life as Usual...

2008-09-03T12:57:00.001-07:00

Day 2 of having two kids in public school, and I am doing fine. We're still ironing out kinks and getting used to the schedule, but it's okay. I assigned each girl her own bathroom in an attempt to keep early morning territory arguments to a minimum. However, two mornings in a row, we have caught Kirsten and Ione in the downstairs bathroom, talking about school and collaboratively putting makeup. We sneak away quickly, leaving them unaware, hoping to not disturb the teenage magic. No, I'm not misty eyed about this, nor am I fooling myself in any way; I know they'll get into some sort of ridiculous fight over the hair dryer sooner or later. I do appreciate those Norman Rockwell moments when I can get them, though.

Knitting! We have a poncho, fringe and all:

I'm okay with it; it swallows her, so there's lots of room to grow. I only hope she doesn't decide that it's itchy.

Elisa nest tote:

I'm really happy with this, and I'll definitely make more. My handles aren't as neat at the kitchener stitched connection as I would like, but it's good enough. At the moment, I'm battling an allergy attack that feels more like a mild bug, so I'm not knitting enough. I'm working on the Asherton Scarf, which I'm finding dreadfully tedious. I have to pay attention to it, and I need more mindless knitting right now. It's promised to Ione, though, so I've got to hurry and have it done by the time it gets cold. I really just need to go through my stash, organize it, and look through my patterns and find something to get excited about. It's hard to really want to do anything when I'm sort of sick, and when everything is just kind of thrown all over the place. Must...get...my...crap...together!

High School Kid....

2008-09-01T17:33:00.000-07:00

She's going to school in the morning for the first time. I can't go with her. I can't walk her in to make sure that she's okay. I have to put her on the bus with her big sister and know that thousands of kids do this every year and survive. Good kids, kids like her sister, kids that do well and are polite and do great things with their lives. She wants to go, and that makes it a little easier, but my job is to worry and second guess everything, so I will cry and wait for her to come home, hoping that her first day wasn't too rough. That high school is not big enough or smart enough for all of *my* daughter's amazingness. I will miss her horribly.

An Ione Martin Joint...

2008-08-28T12:34:00.000-07:00

To celebrate the end of my blogging dry spell, I present for your enjoyment "H Is For Heelys". This is what children do when their parents won't take them on vacation.

Yes, I Am Quite Superior...

2008-06-19T09:30:00.000-07:00

As a 1930s wife, I am
Very Superior

Take the test!

I took this yesterday and got an 89. I took it today and got a 95.

It's Done!

2008-06-15T12:01:00.001-07:00

For some reason, I can't get the picture to rotate the right way, but if one tilts one's head to the left, one can see that it is indeed a complete sweater-clean, dry, and with buttons. It's no longer in my house, but in the possession of the woman I knitted it for. I don't think it turned out bad at all. I hope it wears well and is enjoyed.

Our new dog Vandie is settling in. It amazes me that Boxers ever got a "tough" reputation and that not many people know how genuinely sweet they are with families. Descended from the extinct Bullenbeisser and the English Bulldog, their "jobs" have included attack dog, messenger, guard dog, and military dog. That's a bad-assed dog, right? Well, I don't know...

She's asleep in this picture. Ione didn't put her there. Vandie climbed into her lap and conked out. It doesn't surprise me that she's wonderful with the kids. Patient as the day is long, tolerant of the noisy household and activity, forgiving of stumbling kids and adults who might trip over her, Vandie is all about the family and getting in the middle of everyone. She hits herself in the face frequently with her wagging tail (her previous folks didn't dock it when she was a pup) and we usually have to carry her to her crate at night. It's not easy to hoist a 40 pound dog. Having her in our home is really exciting. She's very young, a puppy actually. We have a lot of years with this dog ahead of us; hopefully only a small portion of which will be spent smoothing her few rough edges, and the rest spent learning and playing. She's an awesome dog!

It's a Boxer!

2008-06-09T11:15:00.000-07:00

Her name is Vandie:

I believe that peanut butter was invented for the sole purpose of making dogs look silly.

Vandie was adopted from Blue Ridge Boxer Rescue. I am absolutely amazed at the efforts, efficiency and generosity of the people who run this organization. We sent in our application a couple of months ago, and although it took a while for the ball to get rolling, once it did things went really fast. Ione and I rode down to Fayetteville, NC this weekend and picked her up.

Things are going well, so far. Vandie is a beautiful Boxer, with a brilliant underbite and a smooshy face. Her big dog energy is a change from my small dogs, who are in fifth gear all the time. Max and Maisy are right on everything, from going out to pee to having a cookie. Vandie takes her time and ponders things. I really didn't realize how much I'd missed having a Boxer in the house.

The cats aren't overly happy, and Vandie is very "curious" about them. Max is fine with her; he's tried to hump her a few times, but most he's oblivious. Maisy is going back and forth between being ridiculously submissive and mortally offended. I'm not quite sure what that's all about. I've had Maisy since she was eight weeks old. She's been loved, fed, given toys, and cared for diligently. One would think that she would be extremely well adjusted. Leave it to me to pick out a bi-polar puppy, though. We're into Day 3, though, and already things are better. As long as I keep them all tired, we're A-OK.

But I'm exhausted. It occurred to me that I really don't like those first few transitional days with a new pet. I get PPD: Post Pet Depression. It's the same whether it's a cat, puppy, or a full grown dog. When I got Moses and Buster, I was happy to have them, but miserable at the same time, until we fell into a routine. The first few days with Maisy were awful. The lack of sleep, the over-excitement of the kids, and the household disruption involved in puppy training all took a toll. It was the same with Max, minus the housetraining as he was full grown. Come to think of it, I don't like the first few days home adjusting to a new human baby, either. I always feel out-of-sorts and foreign, and very overwhelmed. It's a strange thing since I have a houseful; you'd think that I would have figured it out before now.

So, days will pass and we'll all get used to each other in our own good time. Vandie will find her place in our home and we'll love her even more than we do now, if that's possible. John will meet her (he's underway...) and he'll have a great running buddy.

I have a full house.

Oh God, Will It Never End?

2008-06-03T04:11:00.000-07:00

I am still plowing away doggedly at a sweater that I started last month. (I think it was last month...I tell myself that, but I really think I started it in April. Or maybe March. I will always say that I started this sweater last month because it's taking so long to knit that I can't bear to think how much time I've devoted to it.)
It's a barter sweater; in exchange for a spinning wheel that a friend no longer wanted, I am knitting said friend a sweater. Easy, right? Just a simple v-neck cardigan; piece of cake. I'm almost done. There are even buttons in a bag waiting to be sewn on. That is, if I ever get the button bands on the sweater. My goal was to be done last night (Sunday, June 2). I was plowing away and had finished one band. I held it up triumphantly, and realized that the whole band was short and drawn up, causing the sweater to gather along the front edge. Picture, if you will, a sweater that fits fine and is the proper length in back, but is gathered up over the belly button in front. That's what happened. I have gauge; I followed the directions to the letter. I don't know what happened. There is no picture to document this grim outcome, as I immediately ripped the whole thing back. I now have to start again, this time with a larger needle. Maybe if I hide in the closet with a rag and a bottle of ether for a while, this won't seem so bad.
Don't get me wrong; I love the sweater. I love the spinning wheel that I knitting in exchange for. The woman I am trading with is delightful in every way. I swear to all that is good in this world, though, if it doesn't fit, I'm giving the wheel back. I can't knit this project again. (That sound is my head banging against my kitchen counter.)

Hide Your Knives Part Deux...

2008-05-19T18:58:00.000-07:00

A threat from my emotionally disturbed child:

Apparently it's a plea for a wholesome breakfast:

I guess I'll have to work on that.
Said disturbed child getting a massage from Sylvia. Reason 124,469 to have a cat: bitchin' backrubs.

Knitting Progress...

2008-05-14T09:11:00.001-07:00

I will never *not* have an easy pair of socks on the needles again. There have been at least five occasions over the last week or so when I've needed something tiny to work on. It's a good excuse to always be buying sock yarn, so it's a win-win for me. These socks are being knitted in Cherry Tree Hill Super Sock in the "Cabin Fever" colorway. It's the first time I've used Cherry Tree Hill. The color is amazing; much more complex than the picture shows; it's reds, pink, purple, gold and brown. Just gorgeous.
Melissa's sweater in progress. It looks like a "hot mess", but I'm really happy with the way it's coming along. The end is in sight; I've got to do the ribbing at the botton, knit the sleeves, do the button bands and the collar. It sounds like more work than it actually is. Just having the body done makes my heart sing.

Mother's Day present from John: Knit Picks Options in Harmony Wood, plus the Harmony sock set. The man knows how to shop, and I am a happy, happy girl. Not a great picture, but a lovely model who doesn't mind me making him look like a fool as long as he can just hang out on the bed with me. I'll post more about my Mother's Day when I have more mental energy.

Because I'm just too tired to give a damn anymore...

2008-05-13T17:13:00.000-07:00

I'm playing "refrigerator tag"! Melina, Shez, and Lydia are playing, too. They probably have me beaten on the cleanliness factor, but I have consumed a Fat Weasel beer and I really don't care. Here's my lurvly fridge with an enchanting model and an amusing dog:

Lacking cabinet and counter space, I have many things piled on top of my fridge- the most exciting of which is the Rubbermaid full of meal worm beetles that Gwyneth is "growing" for the S.P.C.A. Four kids, plus the dogs and cats aren't enough; I have to have bugs in my house, too. My fridge is always at it's most frightening when it's time to go grocery shopping. You can tell we need to shop. There is much gone-by produce, several mold cultures, and some frostbitten items.

Max is always on the search for something smelly and good, but alas, he is too short to reach the copius supply of leftovers.

As an added bonus, I am showing off my exciting magnet collection. I am a "Napoleon Dynamite" fan, and also a huge "Wizard of Oz" freak. (Note the fact that I have two Cairn Terriers.) I'm especially proud of my very expensive "Gay Bill and Gay Al" magnet. A girl has to have a little fun, you know.

I just hope there is never a "What's in your closet right now?" blog tag. Ugh.

She Blinded Me With Science...

2008-05-07T12:20:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not 80's Dancing while I blog, and you should be glad of it. We went to the Guess Science Fair this week, and my kids had a blast.

Ione was our lovely, enthusiastic registrar.

Gwyneth is showing off her "Crazy Color Egg-speriment".

Jillian is being interviewed by one of the judges.

This is just one of the hundreds of reasons why Norfolk is a great city to homeschool in. As we were leaving to go to the fair, after spending a frenzied evening and morning finishing up the experiments, I told the girls, "This will be fun. All our friends are there and we'll hang and have a great time." And we did. What a bunch of wonderful moms, great kids, and brilliant minds, all in a warm and supportive enviroment. Not to mention a great library to host the whole thing. My kids have never done a science fair, so this was a great introduction to a little friendly competition. And it's proof, wild and fantastic proof, that the secular homeschooling community can pull off something this amazing. I can't wait to do it again next year.

Moving Right Along...

2008-04-21T07:22:00.001-07:00

Here's the Lace Ribbon Scarf from the Spring edition of Knitty. I'm enjoying it, but I already feel like I've been working on it forever. I started it two weeks ago, and this is as far as I've gotten. Maybe if I stop cooking and driving kids around I can make some real progress. I'll feel better when I'm done and can actually wear it. As always, Bella is my enthusiastic model. She's fierce!

One of the things that all homeschool moms do with their children is to make the Baking Soda and Vinegar Volcano. You can't be a homeschooler and *not* do it; it's one of those things like buying Saxon Math and filing an NOI, having a messy house and caterpillers in your diningroom. I have four children, and I'm pretty sure I've made at least three of the smelly things so far.

Max eats tennis balls. Maisy is looking on in disgust, whining loudly as he destroys the brand new ball. If she had a little doggy cartoon bubble over her head, it would say, "Damn it! We can NEVER have nice things anymore!" Poor Maisy.

Happy Socks...

2008-04-16T14:31:00.001-07:00

I love this pattern, and I love the colorway. Lorna's Laces Shepard Sock in "Hawaii".

I've swatched for the sweater I'm making for the spinning wheel trade, and I think it will go well. The swatch is very pretty and close enough to gauge for me to feel comfortable washing it, then checking it again and then proceeding with sweater. I'm using Cascade 220 in Straw, which is heartbreakingly gorgeous. Web's is having a killer sale, so I made out like a bandit!

A picture of my darlings at a sheep shearing demo at Chippoke State Park. I was less than thrilled with the demo. I don't think they expected the throngs of homeschoolers that showed up, and we didn't get a very good view of the actual shearing. The scenery was lovely, however, and the company was good, and it was a lovely morning.

She's In!

2008-04-14T08:46:00.001-07:00

Kirsten was officially accepted to the Governor's School last week. Hurray!

It's an amazing opportunity for her and I think it will be a good experience. She deserves it.

Hide Your Knives!

2008-04-11T09:07:00.000-07:00

I was upstairs messing around one day, and I noticed a piece of paper on the floor. I almost threw it away, but glanced at it before tossing, just to be sure I wasn't getting rid of homework or some masterpiece that one of the kids may have created. It wasn't art, nor was it a report or notes of some kind. It was......

Jillian's World of Terror!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Imagine my horror at finding a picture of a scary looking little girl with angry eyebrows, a circle with a crossed out "G" in the center, and an ominous, if somewhat mispelled, warning. Apparently Jillian had gotten angry at Gwyneth for playing in her Disney Princess tent, so she decided to express her feelings artistically. She drew the tent and Gwyneth, with Gwyneth crossed out (see bottom of picture), the little "No Gwyneth allowed" circle, and her own bad self at the top with the scary eyebrows. Ione was her unknowing accomplice, writing the words down on scrap paper for her for to copy, since Jillian, being only 6 years old, can spell "Jillian" but not "World of Terror". (See upper right hand corner of picture.)

I am frightened, but oddly proud of my child's creativity. I'll be careful not to anger her, and I would advise the general public to make sure their doors are locked at night, just in case Jillian's "World of Terror" descends upon us!

Sweater, Cool Yarn, Buttons, Adorable Dogs, and Presidential Booing...

2008-04-01T16:19:00.000-07:00

Let's talk about President Bush throwing out the first ball for the Washington Nationals. Ouch! I almost, ALMOST, felt bad for him. It's got to suck to get boo'd. A few years ago, the Dixie Chicks got blacklisted for openly criticizing him, and now public opinion of the guy is so bad that anything goes. Next thing you know, he'll be getting pelted with tomatoes and somebody will drag him off his speech podium with one of those long hook things. Now, that would make for some good T.V.!

We have a lovely finished sweater. It's white, it's cute, and it fits Jillian.

Our lovely model:

I am not entirely thrilled with the buttons. They came from some Etsy shop in Canada, so I had to use other buttons on them last Sunday, which made me sad. I just put the new ones on today, and I think they are fine, but I wish I could have found something I liked better. Jillian doesn't seem to object to them.

More stuff from The Loopy Ewe! Dream in Color "Smooshy", which is the most amazing thing I've ever seen in my life, in Ocean Fog colorway. I'm going to make the Lace Ribbon Scarf from Knitty with it. It should be very nice. Check out the awesome free Loopy Ewe stitch marker! I wish I had thousands of dollars to spend there! Super website!

Maisy has made up for her regression in house training by being extra cute this week. I really don't know if cuddliness and a sassy attitude quite make up for huge piles on real dog (as in not puppy) poop. She needs to either learn a cool trick (like not chasing cats) or figure out that excrement goes outside. One or the other. I just can't handle both. I will, but I won't like it.

Her image is blurry, but notice the bared teeth as she tries to bite Max. The past four months have been like living with the Zulu Fetish Doll from the 1970's Karen Black classic "Trilogy of Terror". Come on, click on the link. Better yet, put the movie on your Netflix queu. Good stuff. She's really a wonderful puppy. I've called her "The Fetish Doll" since we got her because of the grunting, the funny noises when she eats, the crazy way she plays with Max. She's like a cute little monster. A monster that poops. (Sigh...)

Happy News...

2008-03-30T14:58:00.000-07:00

My daughter (the big one...)
Who took this picture...

and this picture...

just passed her audition for the Governor's School for the Arts. All she has left to do to be accepted is to get references from teachers and not lose her mind and flunk out. She'll go next year, spending her mornings at Maury and her afternoons at Governor's School, doing what she loves to do.

There are no words. It's one of those moments in parenting that make you think that maybe this whole mommy thing was a good idea. I'll most likely want to ring her neck for one reason or another tomorrow (like when she calls me and asks me to put a load of jeans in to wash because she "forgot"), but for now, I'm stoked for her and quite happy for myself, for being along to see it all happen. It's good.

In Which An Angry, Ovulating Woman Rants About Rude Neighbors at Cookie Delivery Time...

2008-03-17T16:31:00.000-07:00

Yes, person, *you*, who lives at 511 New Jersey Avenue and didn't answer the door even though you were home. You wanted those cookies real bad when you filled out my kid's order form back in January. What happened? I freaking saw you peak between your cheap-assed white plastic mini blinds. So, not only have you no taste, you also don't have $10.50? Are you a victim of the subprime mortgage crisis and can't buy food? Or did you go on a diet? Did you try Atkins? Are you eliminating gluten from your diet? Or are you just a lazy ginormous TOOL who doesn't care about little kids? Yeah, I saw the "My Great Dane is smarter than your honor student!" bumper sticker on your car in your driveway. That may be so, but your Great Dane lives with an A-hole, and your A-holiness rubs off on that dog, so that means that while smart, your dog is an A-hole just like you!

(Ahem!) Now, back to our regularly scheduled boring posts about children, pets, and knitting.