Riding the Bike with One Pedal.

Category: Rambling (Page 2 of 3)

I Thought This Was Strange

Hubs ran into Wal-Mart last night for bait (yes, that would be one of the distinctions between WM and Target – ) and I waited in the car. I did a giant loop-de-loop around the lot and then parked near the door, ready to move should it become an active Fire Lane.

While waiting, a guy ran up (not sure from which direction), plugs in some tool, and starts working on this other unidentifiable object he was carrying. Dude spends a few minutes doing this, and then unplugs his whatchamajig,  picks up the flat thingy and saunters off.

WTF???

I’m going with yet another differentiator from Target?

Random Orts!

It’s been a while. Yup. That whole ‘life’ thing gets in the way of blogging sometimes. Here’s the latest!

1. I spent a good chunk of my day on Friday in doctor’s offices. Basically the annual tune-up. Everything went well, all’s good – last month I felt a small lump/bump something-or-other and knew I had to get my appointment made for the now-annual mammo. Turns out, it doesn’t even register on a sonogram, so it’s just something to be mindful of and not worry about. Oddly enough, I spend so much of my energy worrying about crazy things, this incident didn’t worry me at all, up until the x-ray tech was on the phone to my doctor getting orders for additional tests. However, I was impressed with their efficiency and springing into action; in retrospect, wouldn’t want it any other way.

2. We are going on VACATION. Remember last year? We bought a $100 pool and had ourselves a staycation. Now everywhere you turn, you see something about staying home and building your own vacation. Whatev! Staycations are so last year. 😉  Don’t get me wrong – blender drinks in the pool was lovely. And we’ll do it again this year. But some of those pool drinks are going to be consumed in CANCUN. We’ve also booked two fishing trips while we’re down there – one’s at night! The resort we’re staying at looks lovely, and I’d been saving my airline miles for…wow, 12 years. So those helped a bunch. Now to count the days until we go. Oh, and the best part of this is that my doctor had asked if I’d taken a vacation or had plans to – I told her we really hadn’t gone anywhere since we got married, and that I was wanting to go to Mexico (not afraid of H1N1), and she adamantly ordered me to GO on vacation, go to Cabo, or Cancun, just stay away from Mexico City and enjoy myself.  So, Doctor’s Orders!

3. Work continues to be busy. We’ve had a few days of relative calm, but mostly it’s just all-out flying through the day. Home is busy, too – James has really put a ton of effort and time into the garden, and it looks awesome. He’s got 55 tomato plants a-growin’, so we shall not want for ‘maters later on! And peppers and eggplant and okra and beans and snap peas, plus we have lettuce and radishes and green onions and spinach right now. He’s definitely taken the garden to the next level this year!

4. So if you’re a knitter, or crocheter, or spinner, then you most likely know about Ravelry. I’d say that most places that have large gatherings of fiber-holics end up with most people referring to their “Rav Name” or even adding it to their nametag. Not a crazy thing or out of the ordinary. But there are some people who’ve been banned or kicked off the site, and let me tell you, there’s always one with an axe to grind! At the Fling, one lady went OFF on another knitter who’d just put her Ravname on her name tag. “This isn’t a Ravelry-sponsored event. What are you trying to be, exclusive?” (It went on for several awkward minutes.)  She was such a pill, and so mean about it, that those of us around her thought she was joking at first. After all, it’s not like Ravelry is some sort of niche offshoot group, in fact, it’s been a uniting force.  This lady ended up driving a couple friends of mine into a small ante-room to escape her, she was so angry and rude. I think that’s the kicker with any sort of group – even political – how you can be united in one direction or passion, and then you turn around and there’s somebody wearing a plushie suit with a confederate flag on the back, ready to pray for your sins and damn you for eating red meat. Or, just someone who loves a lotta fun fur.

5. Speaking of knitting, I’m flying along on a baby gift – the Moderene Baby Blanket (RavLink – yep, that’s me being exclusive!), which I’m making out of  Dark Horse from the Studio – it’s so soft, and not acrylic-y at all. I love the color ranges, too. Oh yeah, pictures. At some point. 🙂 BUT! I do have a picture of a stealth project a whole bunch of Spring Flingers worked on – I’ll explain more, but we had nearly 50 knitters contribute tiny knitted hearts to someone who needed some extra love. Pretty cool, and a great reminder that even though there may be bad apples here and there, the majority of folks are really good people.

Hearts Project

OK, it’s been a lazy Holiday Monday! Hope everyone had good weekends, spent at least some time this weekend remembering why it’s a holiday, and goes back to work refreshed & rejuvenated. That’s my goal, anyway. Oh, and yeah, check yer boobies. It’s important!

The Dogs of Bagfood Town

Last week, I pretty much lost my mind. I got really overwhelmed with work, and was so immersed that some of the simpler things in life became difficult to execute. For instance, I went to pick up some Thai food at lunch, had my wallet out, and after signing the slip, I just grabbed the food & kept my wallet in my hand and walked up the stairs towards the door. Except I stopped, because people were calling my name, seeing how I’d left my purse on the counter. Yup. Sure, I’d have figured it out when I got to the car, since cars require keys and all, but normally, I’m not that absent-minded/spaced out.

Of course, that same morning, I picked up the aerosol deodorant can – that happened to be sitting right next to the can of aerosol hairspray – and proceeded to give my hair a nice big squirt of deodorant.  And that night, I asked my husband to empty the dogs of bag food into the container. He asked me to repeat myself, and once more, I said I didn’t want to lift the dogs of bag food, and until he said it back to me (with a pregnant pause!) did I realize my mix-up.

I allowed my inner hypochondriac five minutes to indulge in the terror of a brain tumor and have since moved on, distinguishing between hairspray and deodorant and retrieving my purse when I set it down.  But things still feel a bit thick and fuzzy around the edges, like my brain is fifty feet above my body & not always fully attached. Racing, thinking, planning, making lists.  Part of me just wants to take a nap until mid-June, the dates and anniversaries loom on the horizon, father stuff, work deadlines, all of it. But as well-rested as I’d be, I need to go through it all, for that which does not kill us makes us stronger, and I’m still laughing and telling stories about crazy people who love to hate or who got drunk at lunch and stole a pitcher of margaritas and burst into a client meeting to offer everyone a cocktail or just making fun of myself.

So much fodder. So little time.

Wahoo!

I won a gift certificate from The Pioneer Woman! I have no idea what I’ll buy, and when I told my husband Van Dyke’s Restorers was a Cabela’s company, he immediately wanted to know if the gift certificate could be used there. (No.) (I don’t even want to know if it can.) (I’m not good at sharing, does nobody remember this?)

This would be lovely, though it would require me to kick in some cash to cover the difference. Never mind there’s nowhere to put it. I’d be perfectly happy with it in the living room. Watch my DVR, knit, splash a little, no biggie! Hi, company! Can you all just look out at the garden while I get out of the tub? Thannnnks.

Actually, I just realized why the site was familiar to me – a couple years ago, I was looking for some bun feet to raise our dining room table – I’d bought it from a friend, and it sat a little too low. (The table itself is really cool, it’s a reclaimed barn door, but the construction doesn’t allow you to lengthen the legs at the top.) The bun feet were pricey, and I went with something much cheaper from Lowe’s that worked for height, only to discover they didn’t work as well for stability. So! I expect I’ll be bunnin’ it up! And, the more you read and say “bun foot” the more it sounds really, really weird. Especially when you like Vietnamese food, and, um, bun (noodles).

Look for the next post to be a big ol’ smattering of Orts. There’s been lots happening, but work has been really crazy with, you know, work, and there’s more work and fewer people, so we …work a lot more. But there are still jokes and drama and funny things going on.  I’m especially chirpy because one of my dearest friends is coming to visit next weekend, and the weekend after that is my trip to the Loopy Ewe Spring Fling and whenever I think about that road trip and yarn and meeting all the knitting friends I’ve made online, I just get so excited.  Like I was today! I swear, you just get in your path and sometimes it feels like a rut, but then you come around a corner, and it’s like everyone threw you a surprise party and you remember all the reasons life gives you to be happy again!

mwah! I am cheerfully annoying. I kiss you and go. Wipe the lipstick off your cheek. I understand.

Happy Happenstance

Yesterday, I left for my lunchtime hair appointment. I was exactly on-time, which is always a riveting moment and should be noted, since on-time has never been one of my strengths.

My stylist greeted me with a slightly puzzled air – turns out, the appointment was for Thursday (in her book). I chalked it up to her pregnancy brain, because I never make plans on Thursdays, as I am often at a client meeting that can last an undertermined amount of time. This week, I wasn’t going, so I just told her it wasn’t a problem & I’d see her tomorrow, and now I could go to CostCo and get a new mini-fridge for my office!

You know, the old one-door-closes-and-a-window-opens thing? Or, make-the-best-of-it? So into the blowing cold wind & tiny snowflakes I went. Walked into CostCo and saw my BFF Beth! She was there to pick up pictures, but they’d mucked up the print job & needed to be redone. She didn’t have plans, so we cruised through CostCo together. I especially liked the part where I wrestled the enormous fridge box into my cart, telling her that while I knew she wished she COULD help me, secretly, I was hoping everyone around us would look at her with disdain for not helping her friend out. (She is not able to lift anything over 10# right now while recovering from a procedure.) (Obviously I was prepared to wrestle this by myself. She actually helped by holding the cart still.)

I got a fancier, bigger model (of course you did, I hear my husband utter), but I had researched them on Consumer Reports, and they basically hated all those little ones. The brands of the bigger ones they did like still cost a bit over $100 online, just for the hated-little size. So, that was all the justification I needed, my fridge is the equivalent of hunting quail with an elephant gun, but whatev. CR said it’s good, and that’s all I need!

Getting it in the car would have been easy, had the Murano been cleaned out. We purposefully didn’t get it seated in the cart, so it would be easier to offload. But I had to keep tilting and wedging the box in the hatchback area, and all I could think about was when I first moved here, and moved a 70-plus pound air conditioner into my apartment – by myself. That was a bitch and a half. People walked by me and watched me struggle then, too. Whatever. I am MIGHTY, dammit, and I am tenacious, and I am stubborn.  I realized afterwards that some of the looks might have been because my shirt had pulled down and my bra & a nice expanse of my bosoms were greeting the world cheerfully. Hm.

After that, we grabbed a bite at the Westport Flea Market, and I was greatly amused to have my order called in song. (to the tune of Snoop Dogg/Pharrell’s “Beautiful”) “Jennifer….. I just want you to knoooow….that your food is doooone.”

The new fridge is fantastico, if a bit overkill for an office fridge, but it actually keeps things cold (the other one conveyed more like … the notion of cool.) I actually had shards of ice in my Diet Coke this morning, so I took the temperature down a smidge. I like the ice, but I also put some apples in there, and I don’t want those frozen. Of course, I could put them in the crisper. Yes. I now have a crisper. Currently it holds the mini ice cube trays. For the mini freezer. Yes.  Shush.

‘Twas a happy day. I did get my haircut today, it’s fabulous! I came back and ate my sammich from my new fridge & need to figure out who has Diet Coke on sale so I can stock up. And then, tomorrow’s Friday! Yippee skippy! Cold weather & knitting go hand-in-glove!

Woohoo, Short Week!

JWo is not happy I cleaned the coffee pot. He seems to believe the patina of crud ‘haz a flavr’. Well, LOL and it’s too late baby, yeah it’s too late, I can practically see my reflection in the dang thing now. It was my weekend highlight, getting that vileness cleaned out. I’m attributing his gout to the buildup and he’ll thank me later.

Still have the head cold. Not pleased. Just polished off some Theraflu and am verrrrry sleepy now.

Knitting is going well, I’m almost finished with the gussets on the sock club socks, and I’m on the last set of repeats for my second Koolhaas hat, the first one came out too small & was gifted to an adorable 7-year old; this one’s going to be perfect & is for James. I’ll make myself one next. But first, I think, the Druid mittens. (ETA: Koolhaas is DONE! Woohoo! I finished it while getting a pedi. The ladies there all thought it was awesome.)

Surely I am not the only person who rethinks their wardrobe choices before heading out to Target? I purposefully avoid wearing red when I go there. A long time ago, I was shopping & someone came up to ask me for help…. being a Target fanatic, I was able to help them, but I try to avoid the confusion if I can…anyway, the adventure wasn’t nearly as crowded or irritating as I anticipated.

Just remembered I’m bringing the green bean casserole to dinner on Thursday, which means, hey! I need green beans! And cream of mushroom soup (the official soup of Iowa, btw, home of the Hot Dish), and some of those fantastic french-fried onion thingies. Thinking about causing a commotion and getting the cheese-flavored ones. I hear they haz a real gud flavr.

Brilliant Little Orts….

1. OK, my first random ort is from the current issue of People magazine. Ya know, Sexiest Man Alive issue, blah blah blah (I get my People fo’ free! Rep gift.) I used to get US, too, but they finally figured out I don’t run ads in there so away it went. Anyway. I enjoyed the cover story (Hugh Jackman! Yes, I agree with the title!) and then happened upon this little four-page segment, where hot studly men had SCRATCH AND SNIFF circles on their photos, and you could smell the cologne they wear. Or at least say they wear. This is one brilliant bit of marketing, I think. The publisher was very careful to state that subscribers who’d requested scent-free issues did not receive this, and so on and so forth, and while none of the fragrances grabbed me by the collar and made me want to rush out and buy a bottle for the Wo? I laughed. Every. Single. Time I sniffed. Because how funny is that, I’m holding a sexy-hottie man’s picture up to my face, engaged in something I think would be pretty intimate to do to them in person, especially since I’m sniffing Chris Meloni’s neck. Only one brand name – but what a great way to get your product in the hands of engaged readers. Especially when it’s on Michael Phelps’ torso!

2. I have a cold. Bleah. We have been the House of Illness for too long – starting with James’ gout, and then he got pneumonia, and now that he’s on the mend, I’m on the decline. It’s not the worst cold ever? I’m just congested and feel like I’m in a stupor. (Except when I’m snorgling Taye Digge’s photo. I can still smell, obviously.)

3. I Wish I Had Taken A Picture #2: (yes, out of order) I just cleaned our stainless-steel coffee pot. It was really getting on my nerves, and despite trying to scrub it, the coffee stains weren’t budging. It looked like we’d been using it without even a rinse for ten years. (which isn’t true!) So to the internets I went, and, by god, there were a couple of solutions – dishwasher detergent, or OxyClean. Well, we use those little toss-in tablets, instead of powder or liquid, so I trundled downstairs and got some OxyClean. HOLY CRAP. It immediately started foaming, and because I’m nebbish and curious, I couldn’t walk away, so I poured off the foam and -gasp- started to see silver. I added more water, got out the scrub brush, did a few swipes, and gaped in amazement as I poured off a latte-colored mixture of suds and coffee oils, to see a like-new interior. IT WORKS. I’m pleased as punch. Kinda makes me wonder what in hell it’s doing to our clothes, though!

4. I Wish I Had Taken A Picture #1: The other morning, I went to let the dogs in, and it was that super-chilly morning, the one reminding us that it really is winter-time, and two dogs were waiting at the door, and came flying in. In the dark, I assumed the fleeting black dogs that passed me were the usual two who wait at the door: Polly and Suzy. I whistled for Tripper. Heard rustling, then a metallic clanking. Tripper likes to find random things all around the back yard & in James’ shed, so I yelled at him to “LEAVE IT!” and to come in. I can tell there’s a dog at the base of the stairs, and there’s more metal dragging. So I flip on the light, and it’s SUZY, and she’s decided she could could just go through the decorative fencing we’d put up around the grass garden. Uh, well, she did go through, HALF WAY. She had about 6′ of fence attached to her midriff. So out into the cold I went, asking her if she thought she was Winnie the Pooh or something, and quickly stretched the wire so she could step out of it. She was elated, scampering & jumping around, and all I could do was shake my head. And wish I’d snapped a photo of her ‘in fence’.

Next week’s Thanksgiving, which means a short work week for most, a big meal with family and friends, and for many, a big day of shopping. I’m thinking about finally breaking the habit and not going out. I believe I got rather cranky last year and didn’t really find anything we needed, even among the deals. Guess it depends on who’s name I get for Xmas gift-giving, I suppose. If you’re curious about whether or not it’s worth your while, you can always scope out the Black Friday sales flyers ahead of time. I always wonder who it is that’s scanning them and sending them in, hm? Someone at the printer? Someone at the newspaper? I think this year, nobody should even care about the deals getting leaked, most companies will be glad for the business any way they can get it. Happy Saturday night!

Full of FAIL! Full of WIN!

For some reason, most of yesterday found my brain shouting out (but not my mouth), “FAIL!” or “WIN!” as things happened. Behold the influence of the internets. In any event, here’s a random smattering mixture.

I got home and discovered I was missing an earring. FAIL! I was dreadfully disappointed, as these were one of my most-favorite pairs. I even started pondering ordering new ones, just so I wouldn’t be without and all out of sorts. As I disrobed, the missing earring fell to the floor. WIN! James doesn’t understand how an earring could be in my bra and me not know it. MAN FAIL! I don’t really have an answer to that, because I’m just happy said earring is found and a new pair doesn’t have to be bought. WIN WIN WIN!

I taught, once again, a very challenging class. Not that the students themselves made it challenging, it’s just hard to learn two tubes on two circs, and I kept making a mistake while trying to repair one student’s error, because I kept talking. FAIL! However, I think they’ll all come back, so we’ll just whisper, with hope, WIN?

I decided upon Portland Tweed for the Spectacular Druid Mittens and left a note at The Studio to put the three skeins on my account. Because I should I have some credit accrued. WIN! Got up this morning and only found two of the three skeins. FAIL! I will look again tonight to see if one fell out in the garage or in transport into the house, but I did a morning drive-by and there was no yarn left in the street. If it was found, I hope it has gone to a good home. The color is “Amaranth”, a gorgeous mulberry purple. It is utterly full of WIN.

Tripper has the worst gas of any dog I have ever met in my entire life, hands-down. It is toxic. Room-clearing. He is eating dirt in the backyard, and god-knows-what-else, but there is nothing back there that smells this horrible in nature, yet his ass speaks volumes. He may be full of love, but his farts are full of FAIL! This morning, I gave  him some peanut butter on the roof of his mouth, just so I could laugh at him continuing to lick the air and look upwards. He does make me laugh (which is a WIN)!

We got caught up on The Amazing Race the other night, and I had a WIN with funniest snark while watching. Two teams raced off to a Fast-Forward, which involved eating a stew made from the ass-end of a sheep. One dude was a vegetarian & had been for 15 years. He FAILed miserably, attempting to eat it and drawing out the time spent on the challenge, when they should have just given up and gone back as soon as they saw what it was. I say it every season: don’t these contestants watch the show before they try out for it? As I put it, “Dude, let me introduce you to a midget (sorry, little person) who ate half her body weight in sausage last year.” There will ALWAYS be some crazy-ass food, this time, it was sheep-ass. And if you want to WIN, you’ll have to eat it.

For those of you who use Gmail, they’ve just announced mail themes. WIN WIN WIN!

May you have more WIN than FAIL today!

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

When you hear someone talk about how they have a batting cage in their basement, what do you think?

“Man, that’s a big fuckin’ basement,” comes to mind. Also, “Holy moly, you have money.” I also think, “Goddamn I’m jealous.”

How awesome would that be, to come home after a stressful day, and just start cracking the bat & feeling that delicious thunk when the ball collided into your swing?

I’m not sporty. Never really have been. The one thing I could marginally do, at least exceeding expectations of those around me, was hit a softball with a bat. Perhaps it is the degree of solidness I bring to the plate. There isn’t any amazing upper-body strength, that’s for sure. But I always got an extra degree of smug satisfaction seeing the softball sail right on by the motherfucking first baseman, or second baseman, or shortstop, or pitcher, or third baseman, because all of them had moved forward about five feet when they saw me come up to bat. (We won’t talk about the running. Run-ning. Not so great. But still. They were runnin’, too, to get that ball. HAH!)

I feel like I’m walloping off the softballs today. It feels good, if not a little exhausting. Hope you’re having a productive, walloping sort-of-day yourself!

Yarn Deal & Teh Gout

I met a fellow Ravelry knitter this morning in the parking lot next to Gomer’s (which has been remodeled, btw, and I was a little sad to see the old-timey charm go). She had seen my Rowan Linen Drape listed as for sale or trade, and after a few emails conversing, we agreed on a price, place and time. It seemed kind of funny, like a wacky drug deal, and there we were, in the blustery gray morning, handing over yarn for cash. She was very nice, and said her husband had asked her if she felt safe, going off to meet a stranger in a parking lot. She told him she was going to meet a KNITTER. There is a difference, usually. And frankly, if I were ever going to have a business nearby at my beck and call for help, it would be Gomer’s. Those fellas that work in there look like they could take down an angry rhino, with their bare hands.
She also told me she reads my blog (Hi Joyce!), and it will never cease to amaze me just how much I panic for a minute, when I meet people who say that. Because I simply assume I offend at least 75% of the universe in some way, shape or form, with my beliefs, my politics, and let’s face it, my potty mouth. It’s super bad. Way fuckin’ bad, in fact. I love to swear! So I always worry for a split second, until I remember, it’s a choice. Just like my little brandishing yesterday – you choose what you do or don’t want to see, read, think, acknowledge, and no, turning away from it doesn’t mean it goes away, but that’s the beauty of all these options. You can look at fuzzy wuzzy kitties or you can read some really frightening shit and wonder how the world continues to rotate with such stupidity or evil residing inside it.

I have no idea where that was going.

Yesterday, I had a vacation day, of sorts. Poor Wo, he has Teh Gout. He’s had episodes before, but we both thought his toe was out of joint. Ya know, as you get older, things just don’t always snap right into place in the morning, there’s creaking and stiffness and a little popping noise here or there. But this time, it was excruciating. So I dropped him at work, and returned to get him at noon, so they had time to get him a sub. We then went to one of those Minute Clinic thingies, because the Urgent Care on his insurance? Is totally fucked up. Gah! I wanted to walk down there and have a chat, I got so pissed. I called before 8 am, and after a long conversation, it was determined that since he was not a PATIENT of one of the doctors at the Urgent Care, we needed to wait and call back after 8 a.m. Uh, ok. So I did that. And was told that Urgent Care did not begin until 5:30 p.m. I started to ask where they got their definition of the word URGENT but instead hung up in a fit of pique.
Have we met? Do you know me? Do you know how little patience I have for being dropped into an Escher staircase? I rip that shit up.
So off to the CVS we went. To discover they will not diagnose such things, no, no, no. Great concept, folks, not sure if we’ll ever false-start our way back there, though. Especially because this one is on Raytown Road, and I really, really hate Raytown Road. I’ve ended up on it, lost, more times than I can count, including late at night with my pal Liz, when we asked the Anthony Kiedis-look-alike how the hell to get OUT of Raytown, and he had no solid advice. I don’t like it. Negative associations stick with me.

We then headed off to the Emergent Care over in Lee’s Summit. Now, no offense to my pal Joyce, or anyone else who lives in any nice suburb, but GODDAMN I HATE THE SUBURBS. Specifically, I hate driving around in them trying to find things on newly constructed roads in subdivisions that house all sorts of odd businesses, like “Dental Studios” and businesses with names that mean absolutely nothing about what they do – “Ramaflam”. (I made that up, but you know what I’m talking about.)
By this time, we’re halfway around the metro, and that puts me right near a CostCo (one of my original destinations for the day), so James signs in, and I head off to shop.
I buy myself roses, and a space heater, among general necessities. Light my fire, babeh!
Retrieve the Wo, and drive to the closest CVS (I scoped it out on my way to CostCo). Get him major anti-inflammatories, and also major Vicodin. While scripts are being filled, we park at Sonic and get some ice cream treats, because really, it’s been a rather arduous, not-fun day, and the Wo feels bad for upturning my vacation day, and I feel bad because I’m grouchy, but then I also feel bad he’s in such crazy pain and there’s nothing I can do about it. So I do what I can, and drive him around and get him drugs and make sure they’ll treat him before I leave him to go shopping (because I LEARN). So he got that new “sticky bun dough Sonic Blast”? And I was all scoffy-scoffy, eewwww, I bet it’s gonna be bad, it sounds weird, Hello, My Name Is Negative Nelly, and then I had a bite of his and HOLY SHIT I WAS WRONG.
Y’all have to go try one of those things. Iff’n ya like cinnamon and pecans. And the dough is like cookie dough, in case you, like me, who have experience with these things and know, from previous experience as a baker, that a big ol’ bite of yeast dough, no matter how sweet, fucking sucks and sounds like a nightmare in an ice cream treat. And that is what I thought they meant by “sticky bun dough”, because I am literal and I think I know what’s what.
And sometimes, I am wrong.
But not about Palin.
Or Teh Gout. Or Gomer’s, or The CostCo, or the common thread that weaves 75% of us together, and there’s an even bigger binder thread that weaves us fiber-freaks together with our love of yarn.
Now, I have some mittens to knit, because it’s colder’n a witches titty in this house.

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2021 PlazaJen: The Blog

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑