To anyone who has come face to face with the pre-menstrual monster that I turn in to around the 20th of every month: I am sorry. I could make a list of people included in this list, but if you have ended a conversation with me lately that left you thinking, "Who the hell was that?" then you know you are owed an apology.
I'll start with my husband. My poor, poor husband.
It has been so cold the last few days. I was sick on Monday. Sick enough to take the day off. That never happens. Mom took Julie and Daniel so I could rest, and I laid in bed pretty much all day long watching reruns on Hulu of The Surreal Life and then I had to watch every episode of Strange Love. Flavor Flav is not the kind of man I would normally raise an eyebrow of interest at, but there's something endearing about him. I can't put my finger on it...though maybe it's the clock. Anyways, the first problem we encountered was on Monday evening. I wanted to make myself a grill like Flavor Flav's, and we did not have tinfoil. DH would not go to the store to purchase tinfoil for my little arts and crafts project, so that was hissy fit number one. This refusal to go out into the subzero temperatures so his wife could make a goofy grill out of tinfoil translated into him not loving me or caring about my happiness and entertainment.
Yeah.
Then last night, we took a family trip to the library. As usual, I wandered right over to the section with the knitting books, and was happy to find the book that the guild donated to the library on the shelf. I decided to check it out and on the way home, I noticed that without being told what it was, I knew the brand and colorway of the yarn on the cover. I excitedly told my DH this news and he looked at me as if to say, "Yeah. And?" Then I asked if he wanted me to tell him. He said no. Then he even said he didn't really care.
<Tires squealing>
Back the SUV up. Doesn't care? Really. Were those the necessarry words to use? Why not just save himself the inevitable argument and say, "Sure, honey. What kind of yarn is that?" No. He said he didn't care. THEN he compared knitting, something I am extremely passionate about, to his job with broom handles. Knitting. My happy place. My passion. And drilling broom handles. Something he complains about and finds quite boring. How do the two compare? I crossed my arms and slumped down in my seat and became set on not speaking to him for the rest of the ride home. I looked out the window and sighed loudly a few times just to make sure that he knew I was not feeling his remark in a good place. It kind of made my inner evil stir a little bit. I took the gloves off and unleashed some hurtful words of my own. I told him that his soul is full of ice and his heart is black. I told him that it is hurtful that he has no interest in something that makes me so happy. And that he would compare it to something that he pretty much hates was like a double punch to the face. I've been hurt in the past. So he won't look at the crap I pull out of my pores with my Biore strip...I can sort of understand that. He won't smell my armpits to help me determine if I smell. I can even get that a little bit. But to call my passion uninteresting to him? That is just crossing so many lines.
But by the end of this week my hormones will have stabalized and I probably won't care.
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Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Friday, November 30, 2012
50 pounds of junk in a 10 pound bag
Have you ever felt like you are a gazelle on a pair of ice skates and no matter how hard you try, something keeps knocking you down?
The week started out as most weeks do. I finally had enough of the tween induced mess in my house that is also known as my daughter's bedroom, so I went in there with a garbage bag and a mind made up that come hell or high water, this room would be clean. I spent a good part of nap time on Monday afternoon working in there. I was so overwhelemed when I lifted up her bed and saw the contents underneath it that I called my mom and used my "high pitched what am I going to do?" voice. Mom promptly arrived and I knew that if Julie got home from school and saw that I had called in the "big dog" she would get the point. She came home and basically was amazed at the rearranging that had taken place and loved her room. She even helped a little bit, and I know you new age moms (or whatever you would call it) are saying "she should have done a majority of the work." Perhaps you're right, but the thing is, I wanted it done right. I also wanted it done in a timely manner. We made it through Monday night. Tuesday was when all hell broke loose.
I got a message from the treasurer of the knititng guild letting me know that there had been a major snafu with the room we normally hold our meetings in. We didn't have it. I didn't schedule the meeting for November because of Thanksgiving. Someone else scheduled it for the 14th and somehow I had gotten it in my head that it was the 28th. So, I sent out email reminders and newsletters with the change in the date noted. It wasn't until the day before the 28th that we found out we didn't have the room. After some scrambling and running, we did secure a space and had a great meeting, but uffda. Did I ever feel like a pariah. I know I shouldn't have because mistakes happen and it did end up being okay, but it was just another thing that happened that made me feel like I wasn't living up to people's expectations of me. There's been a sharp drop in membership at guild. I feel like it's kind of been since I became the president. Is it me? Is there something that I'm doing that's wrong? This kind of stuff eats away at me. I know you can never make everyone happy all the time but I get in this mode where I am not satisfied unless EVERYONE likes me. I'm working on overcoming that. It will take time, however, I am sure.
Then on Wednesday, my husband was late coming home from work. I finally called him to see if everything was okay, and he answered the phone from the side of the road in a 2003 Ford Brick. The transmission was dead. Gone. Kaput. Game over. We just bought this car in June. My cousin owns a garage and could do the transmission for us. The dealership still has it under warranty and will pay for 25% of the cost to fix it, but we have to pay about $100.00 to tow it back to them so they can look at it and give us an estimate. Are they going to over charge us since they are paying 25% of the cost? I hope not. But do I know anything about cars or dealerships? Heck no. I know how to walk on to one with a pre approval from a bank and say, "I want that one." but when it comes to negotiations or getting a fair deal, I have absolutely no clue what to do. So, I am letting my husband deal with this fiasco. He can talk to the service managers, the parts department, whoever you have to talk to. I'm going to sit on the couch and rock back and forth while I knit and hum to myself and pray that it all works out and I don't end up with a $4,000.00 hunk of metal in my yard.
There's more that I could go into, but I'm not going to because in all honesty, there are people out there who have it WAY worse than I do. I am blessed with parents who care about me and will help me with anything even though I'm almost 30 years old. In spite of all the shenanigans I pull on them, they are still always right there ready to help out when something goes wrong in my life. I will say with all of this car garbage, I've given some thought to becoming Amish. Horses get sick but I'm sure they don't cost as much as Ford Explorer transmissions. Or maybe they do. Oh hell. I'm just going to knit and not think about it.
The week started out as most weeks do. I finally had enough of the tween induced mess in my house that is also known as my daughter's bedroom, so I went in there with a garbage bag and a mind made up that come hell or high water, this room would be clean. I spent a good part of nap time on Monday afternoon working in there. I was so overwhelemed when I lifted up her bed and saw the contents underneath it that I called my mom and used my "high pitched what am I going to do?" voice. Mom promptly arrived and I knew that if Julie got home from school and saw that I had called in the "big dog" she would get the point. She came home and basically was amazed at the rearranging that had taken place and loved her room. She even helped a little bit, and I know you new age moms (or whatever you would call it) are saying "she should have done a majority of the work." Perhaps you're right, but the thing is, I wanted it done right. I also wanted it done in a timely manner. We made it through Monday night. Tuesday was when all hell broke loose.
I got a message from the treasurer of the knititng guild letting me know that there had been a major snafu with the room we normally hold our meetings in. We didn't have it. I didn't schedule the meeting for November because of Thanksgiving. Someone else scheduled it for the 14th and somehow I had gotten it in my head that it was the 28th. So, I sent out email reminders and newsletters with the change in the date noted. It wasn't until the day before the 28th that we found out we didn't have the room. After some scrambling and running, we did secure a space and had a great meeting, but uffda. Did I ever feel like a pariah. I know I shouldn't have because mistakes happen and it did end up being okay, but it was just another thing that happened that made me feel like I wasn't living up to people's expectations of me. There's been a sharp drop in membership at guild. I feel like it's kind of been since I became the president. Is it me? Is there something that I'm doing that's wrong? This kind of stuff eats away at me. I know you can never make everyone happy all the time but I get in this mode where I am not satisfied unless EVERYONE likes me. I'm working on overcoming that. It will take time, however, I am sure.
Then on Wednesday, my husband was late coming home from work. I finally called him to see if everything was okay, and he answered the phone from the side of the road in a 2003 Ford Brick. The transmission was dead. Gone. Kaput. Game over. We just bought this car in June. My cousin owns a garage and could do the transmission for us. The dealership still has it under warranty and will pay for 25% of the cost to fix it, but we have to pay about $100.00 to tow it back to them so they can look at it and give us an estimate. Are they going to over charge us since they are paying 25% of the cost? I hope not. But do I know anything about cars or dealerships? Heck no. I know how to walk on to one with a pre approval from a bank and say, "I want that one." but when it comes to negotiations or getting a fair deal, I have absolutely no clue what to do. So, I am letting my husband deal with this fiasco. He can talk to the service managers, the parts department, whoever you have to talk to. I'm going to sit on the couch and rock back and forth while I knit and hum to myself and pray that it all works out and I don't end up with a $4,000.00 hunk of metal in my yard.
There's more that I could go into, but I'm not going to because in all honesty, there are people out there who have it WAY worse than I do. I am blessed with parents who care about me and will help me with anything even though I'm almost 30 years old. In spite of all the shenanigans I pull on them, they are still always right there ready to help out when something goes wrong in my life. I will say with all of this car garbage, I've given some thought to becoming Amish. Horses get sick but I'm sure they don't cost as much as Ford Explorer transmissions. Or maybe they do. Oh hell. I'm just going to knit and not think about it.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Trolls and Bucket Dippers
The internet sure has become a playground for faceless bullies to come out and flex their muscles, hasn't it? I've noticed a huge influx in the number of people who will make comments about things that have absolutely nothing to do with them in order to gratify their own egos.
Facebook is like the mecca in the world of rudeness. Having a bad day? Want to go rain on someone elses parade to make you feel better about whatever is happening in your life? Then sign up for Facebook. Complain about every single post someone makes as if it has anything to do with you in the first place. Sit down over dinner and talk about how fat someone has gotten since high school and how disgusting they look. Comment on the number of times they change their profile pictures and how vain that must mean they are. Don't bother getting to know someone on the inside first or learning about them at all. Who cares if they are a great parent or a great friend, or if they have gone through something difficult and posting about seemingly meaningless things on Facebook gives them an outlet or a place to be heard. Don't take into consideration that if you stopped judging them based on what you see on your screen, you might make a great friend. Keep pointing your finger at other people and ignore the three that are pointing back at you. Do you think you might post about things people don't care about from time to time? What you had for dinner? That you are tired? Newslfash, today is Friday and I get paid! Whoo hoo, that's awesome. Don't like it? Then don't read it. Honestly, if you're going to get that upset or annoyed by people who post about what is taking place in their lives, then maybe social networking is not for you. It's just a possibility. People it's Facebook. It is not the be all end all of life. It used to drive me nuts if someone deleted me for no good reason, and it's happened, but I finally realized that those people are doing me a favor by removing their presence because if it bothers them to know that I didn't match my socks this morning, or that I thought whatever movie I watched on Friday night was good/bad/or otherwise, then who needs them? How sad and empty are the lives of the people who have nothing better to do than sit around nitpicking at people for their social networking page. It's YOUR space. If you want to post 0598437689789 pictures of your right ear, then that's your right to do so. If you want to spray your political beliefs all over the place and get into arguments with anyone who will bite, that's YOUR space. Go ahead. But DON'T call me ridiculous or immature or whatever else because of the things that I choose to post about. Don't call me vain because I changed my profile picture to one that I thought was flattering.Be happy for people if they seem to be happy. Be sympathetic to people who need sympathy. Be kind to people who haven't been shown kindness. Everyone is fighting a battle that you know nothing about. So stop being rude and start being a catalyst for a better place for everyone to enjoy.
Facebook is like the mecca in the world of rudeness. Having a bad day? Want to go rain on someone elses parade to make you feel better about whatever is happening in your life? Then sign up for Facebook. Complain about every single post someone makes as if it has anything to do with you in the first place. Sit down over dinner and talk about how fat someone has gotten since high school and how disgusting they look. Comment on the number of times they change their profile pictures and how vain that must mean they are. Don't bother getting to know someone on the inside first or learning about them at all. Who cares if they are a great parent or a great friend, or if they have gone through something difficult and posting about seemingly meaningless things on Facebook gives them an outlet or a place to be heard. Don't take into consideration that if you stopped judging them based on what you see on your screen, you might make a great friend. Keep pointing your finger at other people and ignore the three that are pointing back at you. Do you think you might post about things people don't care about from time to time? What you had for dinner? That you are tired? Newslfash, today is Friday and I get paid! Whoo hoo, that's awesome. Don't like it? Then don't read it. Honestly, if you're going to get that upset or annoyed by people who post about what is taking place in their lives, then maybe social networking is not for you. It's just a possibility. People it's Facebook. It is not the be all end all of life. It used to drive me nuts if someone deleted me for no good reason, and it's happened, but I finally realized that those people are doing me a favor by removing their presence because if it bothers them to know that I didn't match my socks this morning, or that I thought whatever movie I watched on Friday night was good/bad/or otherwise, then who needs them? How sad and empty are the lives of the people who have nothing better to do than sit around nitpicking at people for their social networking page. It's YOUR space. If you want to post 0598437689789 pictures of your right ear, then that's your right to do so. If you want to spray your political beliefs all over the place and get into arguments with anyone who will bite, that's YOUR space. Go ahead. But DON'T call me ridiculous or immature or whatever else because of the things that I choose to post about. Don't call me vain because I changed my profile picture to one that I thought was flattering.Be happy for people if they seem to be happy. Be sympathetic to people who need sympathy. Be kind to people who haven't been shown kindness. Everyone is fighting a battle that you know nothing about. So stop being rude and start being a catalyst for a better place for everyone to enjoy.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
I think I am Amelia Bedelia....
Do you remember that quirky and scatterbrained maid from the children's books Amelia Bedelia? She was always getting off track and was disorganized to the point of being funny. That's how I feel in a lot of aspects of my life. Once, I was tearing the house apart looking for my cell phone. I was so frustrated with it's absense but I could not for the life of me figure out where I had left it. Suddenly, someone called me and I heard the chorus of The Verve's Bittersweet Symphony, and low and behold, it was in my hand. I've looked for my glasses only to finally realize they are perched on my head. I've put things in the microwave and forgotten about them. I have found my ball winder in the fridge, mascara in the freezer, and loose socks in my purse. I am by definition, a scatterbrain. It used to be that when it came to knitting, that adjective did not describe me. Now, however, it does.
We had a show and tell night last month to kick off the new guild year. I had no idea what to bring. It could have been a work in progress or something that you were just very proud of. I had several works in progress to choose from, and I had just designed and knit my own pattern for a baby hat, but I had given it away. I could have shown photos, but I decided I would just talk about whatever I brought along to work on during the meeting. That night, it was the infamous blue cardigan. (It seems all of my sweaters become infamous for one reason or another during the course of their creation) I was in awe of everyone's beautiful work. Especially Adriane's reversible baby toys. Everyone had their cell phones, computers, or iPads out to go on amazon.com to order the book she made them from. Super cute! But then it was my turn. I held up the sweater. The body is done. The collar and button bands are done. It is without sleeves and only appropriate for Larry the Cable Guy at the moment. I tried to show pride in this work because I have poured so many hours into the ribbing on the bottom and the button bands....but alas I held it up and said "Well. This is my sweater. It is covered in cat hair because my cat, Amazing Larry loves to lay on it while I work. I also accidentally spilled chocolate on it so I will have to scrape that off before I can wear it. And don't even get me started on all the ends." It has dawned on me that perhaps my projects would not suffer abuse like this, and turn out better if I focused on ONE project at a time. Will I ever be satisfied with just one thing in my WIP basket? Time will tell I guess. I'm resolving to not start anything new until I have cast off the last stitch on my last WIP. Right now staring me in the face I have:
1. Cardigan
2. A scarf that seems to go on and on and on
3. A baby blanket for a dear friend (thankfully the baby has not been born yet)
4. A baby tunic for a baby due any day
5. A crocheted prayer shawl to donate to church
Oh wow. That's only 5. I guess I'm not as bad as I had originally thought. Though I will admit it is more than someone with my attention span should have going at once if she expects anything to turn out half way decent.
Now what was it that I was going to do after I finished this entry? I feel like I was planning to be productive. I guess I'll pick up the scarf and see if I can get it a little closer to being done, and watch my amazing son sleep peacefully under his Mickey Mouse blanket. That sounds better than boring adult responsibility.
Share the peace
Glena
We had a show and tell night last month to kick off the new guild year. I had no idea what to bring. It could have been a work in progress or something that you were just very proud of. I had several works in progress to choose from, and I had just designed and knit my own pattern for a baby hat, but I had given it away. I could have shown photos, but I decided I would just talk about whatever I brought along to work on during the meeting. That night, it was the infamous blue cardigan. (It seems all of my sweaters become infamous for one reason or another during the course of their creation) I was in awe of everyone's beautiful work. Especially Adriane's reversible baby toys. Everyone had their cell phones, computers, or iPads out to go on amazon.com to order the book she made them from. Super cute! But then it was my turn. I held up the sweater. The body is done. The collar and button bands are done. It is without sleeves and only appropriate for Larry the Cable Guy at the moment. I tried to show pride in this work because I have poured so many hours into the ribbing on the bottom and the button bands....but alas I held it up and said "Well. This is my sweater. It is covered in cat hair because my cat, Amazing Larry loves to lay on it while I work. I also accidentally spilled chocolate on it so I will have to scrape that off before I can wear it. And don't even get me started on all the ends." It has dawned on me that perhaps my projects would not suffer abuse like this, and turn out better if I focused on ONE project at a time. Will I ever be satisfied with just one thing in my WIP basket? Time will tell I guess. I'm resolving to not start anything new until I have cast off the last stitch on my last WIP. Right now staring me in the face I have:
1. Cardigan
2. A scarf that seems to go on and on and on
3. A baby blanket for a dear friend (thankfully the baby has not been born yet)
4. A baby tunic for a baby due any day
5. A crocheted prayer shawl to donate to church
Oh wow. That's only 5. I guess I'm not as bad as I had originally thought. Though I will admit it is more than someone with my attention span should have going at once if she expects anything to turn out half way decent.
Now what was it that I was going to do after I finished this entry? I feel like I was planning to be productive. I guess I'll pick up the scarf and see if I can get it a little closer to being done, and watch my amazing son sleep peacefully under his Mickey Mouse blanket. That sounds better than boring adult responsibility.
Share the peace
Glena
Sunday, July 15, 2012
No More Tears
This weekend has absolutely been the worst God forsaken weekend I have endured in a long time. Yesterday was slightly worse than today. Today I mostly slept and when I wasn't sleeping I was randomly crying or staring at nothing. I'm normally very happy but this weekend....uffda.
But everyone has a point where they break. And I reached it. Working in EMS is not easy. It is one of the hardest jobs I will ever love. It involves time, energy, sacrifice, and sometimes a little bit of your sanity. You might work on someone for 45 minutes doing chest compressions, ventilating them with a bag valve mask, watching the portable monitor praying for a normal rhythm. You can use all of your skills, every drug at your disposal...amiodarone, narcan, sodium bicarb, seemingly endless doses of epi...and you still have to tell someone that they are now a widow. You don't know your patient or their family when you arrive, but when you leave, your heart is broken for them. They are on your mind and your heart for days. You randomly start to cry for seemingly no reason. You can't discuss the details with your loved ones unless you want to have the pants sued off of you. It's hard. Impossible in some moments, and those are the moments where the easiest thing to do is shut your eyes and leave reality for a few moments of restless sleep.
Saturday morning, my eyelids were heavier than cement. They opened and I saw my husband standing over me, and he was crying. I was alarmed and immediately wide awake. Our beloved cat, Calvin, was not passing urine and was in pain and this warranted an emergency trip to the vet. I felt impending doom. I love this cat so much. He has been a resident in this house as long as I have owned it. And that's not an exaggeration. The day that we began moving in after closing the deal, I went to the humane society and picked him and his friend Figaro up. (Figaro left us for heaven on August 4th, 2009) Calvin is always there when I need a kitty friend. He is one of the sweetest, silliest, friendliest cats I have ever known, and the thought of losing him was too much to bare after already having a rough start to the weekend. We took him to the vet and they were able to get the blockage removed and he was doing much better and even eating today. Praise God. Yes, it is going to be quite expensive, but when you have a cat or a dog in your family, they are just as much a member of the family as anyone else. He is expected to come home tomorrow and I know that I will be counting down the minutes to go get him and have him home where he belongs. Joey isn't quite sure what to do without the alpha cat here to keep him in line.
In knitting news....there really isn't any at this time. I just haven't been up to it and that should scream volumes about my level of sadness over Calvin. I guess my depression was a little bit intensified when I picked up my wool of the andes sweater to knit a few rows on the button band to find that a hershey's cookies and cream drop had melted on it and resulted in the bottom lip quivering again. What is happening to me? I can only hope that this week will only bring better things. I know cuddling with my favorite gray and white feline will be a start to getting back to feeling like myself. I hope that everyone else has had a much better weekend. Oh. And I broke the light fixture in the bathroom when I towel snapped it trying to kill a fly. When it rains it pours, eh?
But everyone has a point where they break. And I reached it. Working in EMS is not easy. It is one of the hardest jobs I will ever love. It involves time, energy, sacrifice, and sometimes a little bit of your sanity. You might work on someone for 45 minutes doing chest compressions, ventilating them with a bag valve mask, watching the portable monitor praying for a normal rhythm. You can use all of your skills, every drug at your disposal...amiodarone, narcan, sodium bicarb, seemingly endless doses of epi...and you still have to tell someone that they are now a widow. You don't know your patient or their family when you arrive, but when you leave, your heart is broken for them. They are on your mind and your heart for days. You randomly start to cry for seemingly no reason. You can't discuss the details with your loved ones unless you want to have the pants sued off of you. It's hard. Impossible in some moments, and those are the moments where the easiest thing to do is shut your eyes and leave reality for a few moments of restless sleep.
Saturday morning, my eyelids were heavier than cement. They opened and I saw my husband standing over me, and he was crying. I was alarmed and immediately wide awake. Our beloved cat, Calvin, was not passing urine and was in pain and this warranted an emergency trip to the vet. I felt impending doom. I love this cat so much. He has been a resident in this house as long as I have owned it. And that's not an exaggeration. The day that we began moving in after closing the deal, I went to the humane society and picked him and his friend Figaro up. (Figaro left us for heaven on August 4th, 2009) Calvin is always there when I need a kitty friend. He is one of the sweetest, silliest, friendliest cats I have ever known, and the thought of losing him was too much to bare after already having a rough start to the weekend. We took him to the vet and they were able to get the blockage removed and he was doing much better and even eating today. Praise God. Yes, it is going to be quite expensive, but when you have a cat or a dog in your family, they are just as much a member of the family as anyone else. He is expected to come home tomorrow and I know that I will be counting down the minutes to go get him and have him home where he belongs. Joey isn't quite sure what to do without the alpha cat here to keep him in line.
In knitting news....there really isn't any at this time. I just haven't been up to it and that should scream volumes about my level of sadness over Calvin. I guess my depression was a little bit intensified when I picked up my wool of the andes sweater to knit a few rows on the button band to find that a hershey's cookies and cream drop had melted on it and resulted in the bottom lip quivering again. What is happening to me? I can only hope that this week will only bring better things. I know cuddling with my favorite gray and white feline will be a start to getting back to feeling like myself. I hope that everyone else has had a much better weekend. Oh. And I broke the light fixture in the bathroom when I towel snapped it trying to kill a fly. When it rains it pours, eh?
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Compassion
Compassion.
Compassion is defined:
Deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it.
You can't fix everything. But you can wish you could. Even if you can't fix a sadness or a problem for someone else, just being a good friend and having compassion is the best you can do. I have this for my friends and family. I wish that it was more common in today's society because if it were, the world would be a better place. People wouldn't feel hurt by the things other people say and there would be a better understanding of each other.
Indeed. The world would be better.
Compassion is defined:
Deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it.
You can't fix everything. But you can wish you could. Even if you can't fix a sadness or a problem for someone else, just being a good friend and having compassion is the best you can do. I have this for my friends and family. I wish that it was more common in today's society because if it were, the world would be a better place. People wouldn't feel hurt by the things other people say and there would be a better understanding of each other.
Indeed. The world would be better.
Friday, March 30, 2012
So it rained last night.....
The weather was perfect yesterday! Not too hot, not too windy, just warm enough to not need a coat. It was wonderful! So of course, I brought my Easy Ruffle Coat outside to get some length added to the body. It's taken me forever to get to this section so I've been trying to work on it as often as possible. Since I am not always the best at remembering where I leave my things, at 9:00 last night when I realized that I had left my work in progress sitting on the swing outside, an inner war began inside of me over whether to run out and get it, or just leave it out over night. I hadn't watched the weather, but I was pretty sure it wouldn't rain. My prediction that it wouldn't rain was partly made with help from my healthy fear that running outside into my dark yard would bring no good to anyone. Whenever it is dark and I have to walk through grass, I am always positive that there is a snake lurking somewhere just waiting to bite me. I could turn the outside light on so I am able to see a path to the swing where I inevitably leave everything, but then I run a risk of the neighbors seeing my I Love Lucy pajamas. From my comfy spot on the sofa, I reassured myself that it wouldn't rain, and fell asleep. I woke at 2:30 am to a soothing and familiar sound. It was RAIN! Crap. Thankfully this yarn is very forgiving and as soon as it's dry, it will be no problem to continue knitting with.
I did learn a lesson though. Just because you're afraid of snakes and therefore afraid to go outside at night in I Love Lucy pajamas does not prevent rain. It will happen and even the greatest fear of reptiles and public humiliation can't keep it away.
I did learn a lesson though. Just because you're afraid of snakes and therefore afraid to go outside at night in I Love Lucy pajamas does not prevent rain. It will happen and even the greatest fear of reptiles and public humiliation can't keep it away.
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