Guernsey Sock

The Big Sit

This morning marks day seven of The Big Sit. Woohoo!

It is an interesting prospect on the weekend. I am up every day usually around 6, and then I have sat first thing, then let the dogs out of their crates. On the weekend, however, I am up and let the dogs out, then go back to bed for a while, and when I rise after that I sit. This morning that was about 830.

We have a terrier mix, Sawyer, who is 7+ and about 40 pounds. Then there is Nola, the MinPin weighing in about 12 pounds who is 6+. Finally, we have Lilli Munster, the Yorkie whose weight and age are currently the same, just over 3.

Nola is never a challenge to my morning sit, because there is almost always someone still in bed, and if someone, anyone, is in bed somewhere in the house, that is where Nola will be found. Sawyer can also pretty much take it or leave it and not be interested in Mom meditating, but when he does show an interest, he will sit facing me, upright and alert. It’s startling when I open my eyes and he is there just being.

Lilli Munster, well, she is my challenge. I try to consider myself her meditation teacher and I try to lead by example. Some days she gets it, some days not. She has classic monkey mind. Today, she would bring me a puppy thing (stuffed toy) and put it directly in my palm. I would treat it as a passing cloud and place it in my lap without acknowledging Lilli in any way. She did this thre times. Then suddenly, Sawyer was sitting in her way. She put the puppy thing in my other hand, I put it in my lap. Sawyer then snatched it and ran, instigating a round of chase. This happened several times, and I managed to keep my composure long enough to finish my sit.

Katherine (our Yoga and meditation teacher of old) told us that when we meditate, if a thought or distraction arises, treat it as a passing cloud...notice it and then let it go on by. She said there will always be environmental influences from the outside and the challenge is to let them just be.

At 20 minutes on the dot, Sawyer was again sitting right in front of me and just before I opened my eyes, he placed a paw directly on my heart center and leaned in with all his weight. Lilli was curled up in my lap.

Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm…

We made it 50 days...

Sometime toward the end of last year, I had a moment of clarity and decided that one of our goals for 2009 should not only be a serious reduction to our credit card debt, but also a total cessation of use of the demon cards. Surprisingly, this really hasn't been terribly difficult because most of 2008 was a time of transition.

I think what facilitates the ease of this decision becoming reality the most is the fact that in our mid forties (well one of us is there...) we are pretty much home bodies. This is speaking to normal day to daym not vacation time, but the first vacation of the year has been totally paid for in cash. This is major for us, and the only reminder we need is to not celebrate this monumental occasion excessively while on said vacation. Admittedly we do still need to work on that one.

In the title of this post I say we made it 50 days, but realistically I think we made it more to 75 or so as this started before the holidays, but for accuracy, we consider the first of the year as marking the beginning of the concerted effort.

We still haven't had our official putting away of the credit cards party, but both eb and I carry just one in our wallets now and have agreed to emergency use only. So what constituted today's emergency?

For some time now, I have been putting off coing to the eye doctor. I really can't remember if I was due January 09 or 08, so I am either close to right on time or a year past due. For the past 6 monthe or so, I have been wearing glasses that are about 12 years old. My sun glasses are the current prescription, but my regular glasses broke and the frame had been discontinued soon after I got it, so, no luck in replacing the broken stem. My old glasses, though I know it is a huge no-no, were close enough.

I was putting off going to the eye dr because I decided I had to see someone new. When I went last time, the doc I had been seeing for about 5 years totally dismissed my questions about it perhaps being time for bifocals and made me feel crazy for even suggesting it. Truthfully, I was never really fond of my Woody Allen lookalike eye doc, it was a matter of convenience that I stayed with him as long as I did.

A friend of mine is a bit fanatical in her choice of any type of doctor and one day when we were discussing the whole bifocal dilemma, she told me about her doc and how long she has been with him and finally, today, I went to see him. I got the most thorough exam I have had in a long, long time. And I liked him right off, even though he is...a doctor.

The credit card came out because what I paid today, close to what I expected to pay, was only half the final bill, which means I will in all likelihood whip out another credit card when I pick my new car...I mean glasses up next week.

The doc asked me why I haven't done lasik. I told him what a wuss I am, and also that the expense when weighed against a possible vacation, seems too high to me. His only reply was to think about how much vacation I might be missing seeing less than I potentially could. I think he also knew that sticker shock might settle in. If I have to replace these glasses with any frequency, lasik might be moving up on the decision list. The doc seemed pretty confident I would come around and he told me when I was ready that he would refer me to the right person.

It isn't like I don't know several people who have done it, and I don't really know what I am so afraid of, but the idea of being awake and alert when that is going on just totally creeps me out.

Home body mode is secure for the time being.

Flash blogging to get it out of my head...

McD*nald's is your kind of place
Hamburgers in your face
French fries up your nose
Pickles between your toes
And don't forget those chocolate shakes
They come from polluted lakes
McD*nald's is your kind of place

Where does this shit come from? Most likely this is a camp song, sung to pass the time while hiking up to Lookout to camp out or to the waterfall to swim. Definitely not a dining hall approved camp song.

More importantly, why this morning???

CSA

The check is in the mail. Woohoo.

I just mailed the check for our first effort at being part of a Community Sponsored Agriculture program. There are several available throughout the greater Houston area, but most of them don't have a convenient pick-up point, and the ones that deliver to the home don't yet deliver on our side of town.

In the interest of omproving our quality of life, and because I have the luxury of a very flexible schedule, I decided that I was going to make the commitment to better living regardless of where I had to go for pick-up.

The other concern when making the decision is cost. Being new to it and not knowing what to expect, it's hard to commit to the $$ that some of the programs cost. Broken down by week, they really aren't excessive, but if you are paying in some cases annually, in some semi-annually, it can be a considerable chunk of change.

In my research, I came across Wood Duck Farm. They have an established presence at one of our local farmer's market, and they are starting a CSA program this spring. Their set-up for it seems to me like a bit of a pilot test program, and I think if it is successful it will continue forward. I like that the smaller scale means a smaller initial $$ investment. It lets us try it on in a comfortable manner, and there is a pick-up location about a mile from home.

And now we wait for it to begin...

Alec Baldwin is the new William Shatner

I tried to embed the video directly, but as you might see, that didn't work right. Here's the link in case you haven't seen it.

http://superbowlads.fanhouse.com/quarter4/Hulu-Alec_Baldwin/2409778

So I saw this commercial and that was my immediate thought. "Priceline Ne Go Ti A Tor." Has Alec had some work done or what?

In other news, EB and I went to see Maya Angelou on Saturday. It was lovely to be awash in such glorious energy. I bought her latest book, Letters To My Daughter once I got the tickets to see her and I read it in a day. It isn't to her daughter, but to women and girls everywhere. Some of it is pretty deep. And jarring. It really is a worthy read.

Not a whole lot else I feel like blogging about at the moment, maybe more later.

It all started at 5:35

That's A.M.

Nephew one, nearly eight, busts in to the bedroom and says:

N1: Aunt Maxine, I really need something to eat or I think I might throw up.
AM: Do you want me to cut you up an apple?

N1: No. That just won't do it.

I had to think fast because cleaning up vomit might just make me do the same. Really. I was reviewing what I had seen in the fridge and trying to think what might fill the bill. His mom says he will eat whatever we eat, and of her, that might be true, but we, umm, eat a little better than she does. We're all about cultivating our food snobbery.

AM: There's a bagel. Do you want it plain? Toasted? With butter?
N1: What I really like to eat is corn with peas.

I look in the fridge and lo and behold, there is a bowl covered with saran wrap of corn with peas.

AM: OK! Corn and peas it is.
N1: Don't make fun. It's not nice and I really like it. Really.

I'm not one to take being admonished by a seven year old(there is no nearly eight at this point, he's seven) and especially not at 5:35 in the morning, but he was all curled up on the couch looking pitiful and I was still concerned he might yak, so I cut him some slack. His corn and peas were warmed and I let him have them right there on the couch and I went back to bed.

About half an hour later, he is standing right next to the bed.

N1: Aunt Maxine. I have to get into bed with you guys because it's freezing on the couch.

Not one to argue half awake I help him settle in between us where it's nice and warm. He went right to sleep and I was graced with his corn and pea breath. Charming.

About 730, nephew two enters the picture. I could hear him calling s brother, looking for him. He had fallen asleep on the couch last night before seven. When I was up with N1, I noticed he wasn't there and even though he has his own keys to everything, I was pretty confident his four year old industrious self had in all likelihood awoken during the night and gone up to bed. Aunt Betsy (that's eb) had asked me if he was still sleeping after the N1 ordeal and I told her I thought he must have gone up to bed. She went and confirmed because she's good like that.

The bedroom door was closed and it was sort of like hearing a game of MarcoPolo. I could hear him calling and I then called him. He didn't hear me or was just distraught at not finding his brother. I finally got up and went out to see where he was and he was on the couch all sad looking.

N2: Where's N1?
AM: Getting warm in bed with us. Want to come?

Head nodding was the only answer. There really isn't much room left in the bed when the two of them are hogging the middle and Aunt Betsy and I got up around 8. N2 followed. N1 is still sleeping off his corn and peas.

It's a good thing we were both freezing our asses off enough to wear our pyjamas to bed last night.

PS...I alomst forgot. According to N2 (he with the heavy southun accent), you fry eggs in the payun.

Please tell me she was kidding,,,

Earlier this month, Persetta graduated. She was my TCM student doc for the last 6 months. I go to the local college of acupuncture for treatment every two weeks.

LiAn is my new TCM student doc. I was a little hesitant going with a second year student (Percetta was a fourth year), but LiAn is who Percetta and DR. Z(the supervisor and recognized herb guru) both recommended. I was expecting her to be a little less sure of herself, but let me tell you, she is confident with the needles and somewhat aggressive about it. These are good things. There are subtle differences in my results that aren't really something I can verbalize, small improvements difficult to quantify, but improvements nonetheless.

Yesterday I had 41 needles. LiAn said, "Some of your needles today will be bigger."

I held up my hand and told her, "Stop right there. I don't need to know more." Percetta knew how wussy I am about the whole needle thing and that I didn't want to know anything about it, that I trusted her to just do her thing. I don't need to see them. I don't need to know they might be bigger. I don't need to know that bigger needles go deeper.

Well, I forgot that all, and now I know. I need to clue LiAn in on my next visit. When she mentioned this and I told her to stop, I also opened my eyes. I was laying down on the table, glasses off and relatively relaxed. As I opened my eyes, my heart was racing just a tad. My spine tensed up and being already full of needles, I couldn't really move to stretch it out, so I asked LiAn to pause which she did, until I could breathe a little and calm my racing heart. From my vantage point, prone, eyes open, and glasses off, the needles on either side of my nose came into focus and they looked like small finishing nails. In my face. That did little to help slow my racing heart so I closed my eyes and tried a few deep cleansing breaths. I was relaxed again in a few moments and LiAn quietly went about her work.

After the needles came out and I met LiAn at the desk, She told me, "Your pulse slippery today, so new rules...no sweet. No fried. No cheese. No spicy"

"What's left," I innocently queried.
"No sweet. No fried. No cheese. No spicy."

No food love? Oh my.

The new rule journey begins today. I think no spicy will be the greatest challenge, and I am modifying that right out of the box to less spicy. I told LiAn this and she frowned and basically conceded we have to start somewhere.

Birth Day

Twenty-four years and a few hours ago, I was in crazy pain. I was twenty years old and at that very moment, I had the harsh realization that maybe I didn't know quite everything. Harsh. Very harsh.

Sometime the night before, I was awakened in the night to these sudden and sharp pains in the small of my back, pausing just a moment, and then searing up my spine. I thought I was going to die. Then, my water broke and the only thing that came to mind was a big "Uh oh..."

At the time, I lived in a house on the hill in a fairly wealthy section of Lake Placid. The only way this was affordable was to have five of my nearest and dearest move in with me. It was a four bedroom and I shared a room with Chef's father. It was downstairs and had an attached full bath. Kathy had the other downstairs bedroom, also with an attached bath. Upstairs was Kim in her own bedroom and Danny and Val, sharing the fourth bedroom. Both upstairs bedrooms shared a bath, and each were equipped with two twin beds. The place had oil heat, but we mostly relied on the woodstove downstairs in the living room, and since we were all coming and going at various odd hours, it was pretty easy to keep it going most of the time.

Kim was my best friend and we had fully discussed her taking me to the hospital when it was time. It was very naive of us to presume that "time" would be convenient to our schedules, and that making the 15 mile ride to the hospital wouldn't be that big a deal. We hadn't considered that it might be the middle of the night. Or that I would be in excruciating pain. Or that it would be one of the worst snow and ice storms we had ever known. Or that Kathy would be the only person home at the time and
not the person I wanted in attendance.

I think it took us well over an hour to get to the hospital, and it was a miracle we didn't freeze to death in a ditch on the side of the road. As bad as the pain was, I couldn't fathom giving birth in the back seat of the car, and home delivery was in no way an option.

My OB doc, Dr. V, was a pleasant older man. He was nearing retirement and had a new young partner. A very handsome and sexy new young partner, Dr. M. I made it my entire treatment schedule managing to see only the aging Dr. V. and having done nothing more than shake hands at the initial meeting with Dr. M. You know who was on call that night. Damn.

Had I taken child birth classes? Umm, no. Had I read up on the process? Nope. I was 20 and figured anything I needed to know would be explained along the way. I didn't ask a single question. I had no idea that an epidural might leave me paralyzed. But when that answer to my excruciating pain was offered up very matter-of-factly, I signed the consent form and held very still for that long thick needle to be inserted into my spine.

And then, the next thing I knew, from about my boobies down, I. Felt. Nothing. Not a thing. It was as if my body just stopped at my boobies. My contractions were still charging away as evidenced by the monitor, but I didn't feel a damn thing. I was liking it.

Since that illustrious time in my life, I have learned a wee bit more. I know, for example, it is quite ordinary to have an epidural and still be able to push. Mine was administered a tad too high. No pushing for me. All of a sudden it was time and my thighs and knees were right there on the table along side my shoulders and upper arms. This struck me as terribly funny. I was laughing uncontrollably at the sight of it all and it still gives me a chuckle today.

Delivery was a breeze and suddenly there was a baby on me. Kathy had to hold him there because I still could feel nothing. The nurses took him away after a few minutes and I was cleaned up and wheeled back to my room.

The next three days were a bit of a blur because I had a nasty reaction to the epidural. "I suppose she's allergic," one nurse quitly said. I was violently ill for three days. At one point it felt as if I was vomitting with every breath I drew. And in spite of it being 94 degrees in my room and me having multiple layers of blankets, I was freezing.

In the middle of all this, round about day two, I met my almost mother and sisters-in-law. Almost. I had been dating Chef's father for more than three years, two of those years living together, and I had met his youngest sister. Turns out she was the sane one in the family. Kathy had told Chef's father how sick I was. She told him that she could take him to see his son (and maybe me, too) at any time because she took those days off. Did he show up once? No. But I was lucky enough to meet his mom and sisters under those charming circumstances. Go team.

When I went home on day six, I had plenty of help to figure the mom thing out. Mostly, I sat in the rocker in front of the fire and drank a lot of juice to try to rehydrate a little. Someone always brought home some homemade soup from the deli for the first month or so, and it slowly became apparent that I was seeing less and less of chef's father. At that point, I really didn't care.

Enough thinking about the physical pain...Happy 24th, Chef!

A year ago...

My good intentions have been straying for nearly a year. How does that happen? It isn't that there haven't been other good intentions in the mean time, but honestly a year? I don't understand how I could have been so remiss. It has been a year since I have posted over on the new blog, Cultivating Grace. I am so ashamed.

I need some sort of publishing goal for that blog. Daily is definitely out of the question and weekly, too, seems daunting. Monthly seems lazy. Twice monthly seems achievable. I will declare it. My goal for CG for 2009 shall be twice monthly.

I read an awesome book a few months back, so awesome that I took notes as I reread it immediately upon finishing it the first time around. I had an entire post in my head surrounding the notes for the CG blog and poof. It is missing. The notes might be findable and I think I might make this an immediate task. I think I will order the book too as I had it from the library on the first go round.

The book is called The Knitting Sutra and it is by Susan Gordon Lydon. It is subtitled Craft as a Spiritual Practice. I know there are those among you who scoff at the idea of reading a knitting book, but honestly, this book is suitable for the non-knitter. I challenge you to check it out from the library, read it, and then tell me it isn't great. You know you want to...

My other goal for the new year is to get my Etsy.com shop up and running. That has been languishing since Nov 07. Imagine renting a store front and just letting it sit there for a year. That wouldn't happen so I guess it is time to take it a wee bit more seriously and be a tad more proactive in its pursuit.

That leads to my other goal. More knitting.

Simple enough.

Really.

The saga begins...

Aunt Flo wasn't quite kicking my ass, but I wanted nothing more that to lie in bed all afternoon, so when I got home from work shortly after four, I did exactly that.

Deep under the covers is right where eb found me when she got home around 530. I had wanted to go with her to her appointment with La Querida, but I just wasn't getting up for anything. I even had the jar of Skippy and a spoon on my bedside table so I was pretty settled in. I was toggling back and forth at that point between an old Kurt russell movie, The Thing, and an episode of Stargate. I was into the movie until the thing first appeared, but then lost interest. I wanted to put a movie on, but was too entrenched in my covers to get up even for that.

Before I started dozing, I decided to get up and make some mac and cheese and cheddarwurst, always good for what ails you. I knew eb would be coming in around the time it all came together and made the family size box with extra pasta. Velveeta Shells and Cheese always needs extra pasta to make it edible so it was a nice stretch and it left extra for the boys.

I dished up our portions and eb asked where I was going to eat. I think she knew the answer would be in bed, but she was just being sure. As I was getting settled back amongst the covers, she asked if I wanted her to put a movie in. She was all prepared to indulge me with The Rock when our newest TV on DVD addition caught her eye, and thus the saga begins... Witchblade...

Sarah Pazini looks good in HD at 42 inches.

xmas comes early

EB and I , in a round about way, sort of agreed on no presents this year. I suppose no presents is a stretch. More precisely, we agreed on no frenzied shopping just to have a mass of gidts under the tree. Life has been good to us of late, and we pretty much get what we feel we need as we need it. Or as we are inspired by events otherwise.

This really began long before the recent visit North to check up on my mom, but that trip serves as a perfect example to illustrate that xmas comes early.

We, eb and I, really needed to help mom organize and sort through the congestion of crap that is her humble home. It likely goes without saying that this isn't exactly what Barbara needed. I think barbara just needed some company. We had decided before we left home that there wouldn't be a contest of wills. We agreed that we were traveling North with no expectations. The visit was actually much more pleasant than I had anticipated once we got past the notion of really having to organize.

Having to organize and not being able to translated to limiting the amount of time spent at Casa Barb. On one of the many little side trips around the North Country, my mom asked if we could stop at the bank so she could pick up a little cash. No, ma, we can't. Of course we stopped and she went on inside.

When she came back to the car, she passed an envelope back to me and said, "Here's a little something for your trouble." Once I counted the little something, I knew instantly my mom was buying our complicity in her denial about needing to organize. The little white bank envelope held 20 fifties. Good daughter that I am, I asked her if she was certain she had given me the correct envelope. "It isn't enough? The number should start with a one." Apparently I had the correct envelope afterall.

This is when xmas first came early. We blew the whole wad while we were up North. Some in a gallery in Lake Placid. Some at the yarn store. Some at the bead store. I could sit here and take a full inventory and not be able to tell you where all the money went, but it was the beginning of our holiday season or the end of our birthday season...in style...

Yesterday was the holiday JCP associate shopping event. That it is the last associate shopping event we will attend isn't germaine to our having bought the whole store. Of course we didn't buy the whole store, we never even went downstairs for crying out loud. Usually on associat shopping we end up spending two to three hundred dollars and we get a lot of stuff. This year we were much more selective though we did manage a few impulse purchases along the way as well as managed the barest restraint.

We went intending to get jeans, underthings, candles and sheets. We managed all of these as well as various assorted tops. I think we were remiss in not going down to the shoe department, but we do still have a few weeks to decide if we need some new shoes.

Our impulse purchases? I finally got a dutch oven. Original price was $140, on sale for $70, final price $36 and some change. I am going to break it in, possible this weekend with Ina's French cookbook. I need to peruse it again and select just the right thing...

Out other impulse purchase was a new set of dishes. I am not quite sure how the new set, 4 of everything, will replace our current 8 of everything, but the deal was similar to that on the dutch oven. I am half considering seeing if the store manager will honor the price on a second set.

Candles were on our list, but they also fall to the impulse category as well because we, umm...bought about 15 or so big, Chunky, Candles. The house will smell divine.

Our restraint? We were going to get a wall unit for the master bath but we didn't. We had already decided on something from Ikea. That's one reason. Of the choices, eb oreferred one and I preferred the other, but neither of us felt strongly enough about it to make our case, so we decided to wait.

We had $1400 of merchandise, 42 items, and came in under $500. Ho. Ho. Ho.

Life is good.

Naked in the House

What a wonderful way to start the day!! Naked! In the house!!

I absolutely love it when I get up in the morning and I know, without checking, it is a naked in the house kind of morning. T is off holidaying with his other fam in CO, and W is at work, of this I am certain because I actually heard him leave this morning in the wee hours. This creates, ta-daaaaaaaaaaaa...a Boy Free Zone!

EB and I take every opportunity to commune with our environment in all our joyous nakedness and cherish the BFZ above most everything(excepting, of course, each other). I am so giddy about it that I ordered my chai this morning with whole milk. It is a morning to celebrate and indulge.

The downside of my giddiness came by way of forgetting something for which I will pay the price all morning. The moisturizer eb uses is not moisturizer I can use because, alas, it has a very minute amount of lavendar in it. I say very minute because given the sniff test, I thought it was safe. It isn't. So now I am enjoying the tingly sensation on my minimally moisturized face. If you have ever had a chemical peel or intense facial, you know what I mean.

My eyebrows, the edges of my lips, the edge of my chin, and along my hairline on my forehead are all atingle. I know from previous similar experience that washing my face again, unless I was to fully jump into the shower for a thorough dousing, would only make it worse. I sort of have to just ride out the storm on the rare occasion this happens. Perhaps this time, the action will take hold in my memory in such a way that I don't readily forget such things again. I am just glad I used it so sparingly.

What sounds good for lunch?

$18.61

Can you believe it? I almost fell over from the shock. Eighteen Dollars and sixty-one cents. I wanted to go inside and pay in cash. I was on E on the way to work and before getting into the loooooong Starbucks line, I stopped for gas. I still can't believe I filled my tank for under twenty bucks. 10,955 gallons at $1.69 per. If I had a gas card it would have been $1.54.

Amazing.

Last week, we spent 5 days visiting my mom in upstate NY. I packed socks. I wore them nearly every day. It was bloody cold. While we saw some remnants of snow on the ground here and there while driving around and the upper elevations were all snow covered, it actually snowed (flurries mostly) our last two days there and they got a few inches once we were safely back in Houston.

The trip itself went better than expected, and mom seems to be doing well. She is still in denial about how much crap she needs vs should be thrown away, but we're working on that. We managed to remove seven boxes of vintage cameras and accessories which we shipped home. There's umm...more...camera...crap...

I got home and it suddenly occurred to me that next Thursday is Thanksgiving. Surely there are a few more weeks? I need to get the grocery list up and running so I am not at the store next Wednesday.

We have been busy bees and it looks as if it isn't about to let up any time soon. Last night we had a girl's night salon, as in some of our peeps came over for hair cuts. That was fun. Coming up is getting some knits ready for an artists' sale this weekend, a day with the nephews, some artisan market days, holiday parties...oh, and we have a tree to put up somewhere along the way.

I better get to knitting.

Lost

Last year, eb and I had an addiction. It started out small enough with the purchase of Lost season one at Costco. We thought we might finally discover what all the noise was about this series. The fourth season was getting ready to air on tv at the time. We had no designs on catching up, we just thought we would mosy through season one and then move on to subsequent seasons.

I don't say addiction lightly. Before we reached the end of season one, a mere 5 or six days later, I had discovered that abc.com has the entire series available online to view at our own pace. Our pace was fast forward and before the month was out, we were caught up and anxious every Thursday as we waited for the new episode.

I didn't really care for the show as much when I had to wait a week for the next episode. I learned that my true addiction was tv on dvd, not the show itself, which is not to say I wasn't also addicted to the show, but I think the show is the lesser of the addictions.

Yesterday, during a decidedly slow day at work (in the middle of a decidedly slow week), I decided to revisit Lost from the beginning while filling out my time. with our new office set up, my desk has me facing the door, so my monitor isn't visible to anyone walking by. It's a good thing too, because I am hooked again.

Lost is compelling in a way that I am fortunate to not have any equally compelling work to do.

Defining home

I have been reading solbeam for several years now and her insights to herself and the world usually have some form of resonnance. The following quote is from an entry where she is asked to

define home.

"We human beings, both individually and cumulatively, will constantly be presented with the challenges and opportunities to evolve to our higher selves regardless of the continent upon which we happen to find ourselves born or standing. I need not cross the world on a jet engine to either solve the puzzles of the planet or recognize the mystery of life. But perhaps, like Santiago, we just have to make the physical journey to come to that same, mocking-with-good-humor-at-
our-humbling-expense, conclusion."

Take some time for yourself today and go get lost in her blog.

Barack-o-lanterns

Go see!

Jack. Ass.

I slept in a wee bit this morning and made it to work at 9:30, so really, just a wee bit. When I have that sort of slow morning, rather than hit the manic *bux drive thru that is my norm, I head over to the *bux where Chef works. I get salutations of "Mom!" all around no matter who is working, and more often than not, I pick them up a little something for breakfast, though not today. Honestly, I just didn't think about it this morning.

As I was leaving, I threw my haul into the car and went to the trunk in search of a bag because they were out and I had a small purse so I couldn't just throw our lunch in there as it wouldn't fit. There was a tote bag in the trunk, so no worries.

While I was in the trunk, Jack arrived. The same Jack I refer to in the title of this post. He was driving a huge King Ranch dually. Huge. White. Truck. And, he parked it next to my itty bitty Civic. Crooked. So crooked that if the parking space lines were long enough to accomodate his monster truck in the first place, his rear axle would have been in my space, behind my car.

I got into my car at that point because I could tell I could maneuver around Jack. Most likely. As I started my car, Jack, in his nicely tailored suit and tie, jumped down from his mondo truck and saw the error of his ways. He then walked towars *bux, but he waited by the edge of the parking lot, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched.

Logically, I should have swung out away from his truck, behind me toward the left. This would have been in the same direction his crooked parking facilitated. His stopping and crossing his arms over his chest and watching, however, lowered my equanimity and I had a few choice words for Jack, so I artfully maneuvered my itty bitty Civic and backed out toward the right which landed me right between Jack and his monster truck.

Did I mention it had been raining this morning? Jack was standing in his lovely suit and tie, in his nice animal skin boots (I am pretty sure not faux)on the edge of the puddle. My backing out didn't splash him, but it did necessitate him haveing to do a little hop back to avoid the rippling puddle. As he did that, my window went down.

Jack...standing there with a stare of disbelief...
QM: (Delivered dripping with my best southern honey) You'd be better off worrying more about your own driving and learning how to properly park your truck.
Jack...standing there with a stare of disbelief...his jaw slightly askew...

Fucker.




Edited to add...
I forgot the most fun little twist. As I was giving Jack some qm glare, I pushed the button to roll up my window and at just that precise moment, the sky broke open. Jack, is all wet.

Hanging...

I know everyone is just hanging on the edge of your seats...I had a nice few hours of my brain being free, spinning out of control...

While I appreciate this would be *just* right for me, it isn't quite the right time for the Universe to converge. I have filed the various wisdom(thanks, ladies!) away in the recesses of my brain, so when it is indeed time, they will spin to the front.

I think if our country wasn't facing dire economic straits, and oh, I don't know, there might be some liklihood of an SBA loan coming through, well things might have been different. It was fun while the spinning lasted.

I will try to do some more research and be better prepared should another such opportunity present itself. Frankly, I think I would be better off starting from scratch than inheriting this particular situation, so it's all good.

Time to knit!

How does one actually take the leap?

Recently, eb and I were talking with a good friend about getting to a point in life when all you want to do is take a leap of faith and follow your bliss. Terri, the friend, has been actively working toward this for quite some time. EB and I work toward it in theory and in actuality too, but at a very slooooow pace.

Today, I learned that a small local yarn shop has to close. It is owned by a single mother and har kids are getting a little older and need more of her attention so she has to close and she would of course, rather sell, so if you are in a position to, make an offer...

I would love to make an offer. The shop is in a good location and breaks even but with the proper devotion and attention would surely do well. It is a fairly (in these trying times) safe investment. I have an overwhelming sense that this is the ideal bliss for me to follow. However, I can't even begin to consider the formulation of an offer. The fantasy would spin out of control in an instant and then the reality that it maybe could happen would cut too close.

If there are any readers needing a nice write off who would like to be my capital investment saviors, you know how to contact me. Time is of the essence.