This week: Ten Superstitions, Traditions, and/or Personality Quirks. Ah, all the little weird things come out in these lists. You read them and think, "Ah, that explains it!" Or, "Who would have guessed she is so strange?" and then you stop calling or start pretending you don't know me.
Two hundred forty-seven to go. Who knows? I could suddenly, and without warning, give up blue. But, then what would I call the blog? Or would I suddenly give that up as well?
Do you read Ishi's Knitting Diary? If not, you should. Well, I don't read it myself, I just look at the pictures, but the pictures tell the story. Recently she has finished her second Lace Ribbon Scarf and it is probably my favorite of the finished ones I have seen. Scroll down, you'll see she dyed the yarn with Rit Dyes and the effect is lovely. Yep, add that to the queue. Actually, I think it is already there. Keep scrolling down and you will see her Laminaria. It is gorgeous! And in cashmere! Then you can through her finished photos and see this one. In my favorite colorway of Silk Garden, it is so cute on her little body. That woman is a fast knitter, too.
And then I go to this blog and see my favorite Silk Garden colorway again! I like her pictures of yarn.
In my cruising I stopped by Cosmopolitan Purls (isn't that a beautiful banner?) (and a beautiful baby?) and found the Thanksgiving Shawl that I just must have. It can be purchased here as well, and there is another photo of its wonderfulness. All that blue. Yum.
Then I went for some more lace inpiration to missalicefaye and found not only beautiful lace (yeah, check her flickr lace photos), but gorgeous spinning as well! This is when I start to think I don't spend enough time off the internet.
So I decide to look for more lace over at lacefreak and what do I get? I mean, besides the lace? Drool worthy fiber and my mind is back at spinning and lace and that I should get off the computer. More flickr shots of lace.
So after all of that inspiration I'm about to get off the internet and do something, when I go here and just get hungry. That is lace, right? Hee.
Two hundred forty-eight to go. Must.Spend.More.Time.Off.Line.
No good deed goes....... Unpunished? Unrewarded? At the church my family has attended for years we have a coffee hour after Sunday services that is hosted by member families on a rotating schedule. The families hosting make the coffee, bring snacks and treats and do the set up and cleaning on their week. When I got the reminder postcard in the mail I almost called to cancel, as we haven't been regular attendees or attendees at all for a long time. Just sort of fell out of going. Instead, I remembered how I felt when people ditched me on the weeks we were to share, so Pete and I got our act together and went to church, mini bagels and munchkins in tow. Everything was going well, we were almost finished our stint and it happened. You just go to church one time, in and out? Nope, sucked in. They needed a "ringer" for the ringers. In the right place at the right time.
Over the last ten or so years, I have rung in our church handbell choir on and off, more on when the girls were home and rang as well. We had a good thing going, the Campbell girls were half the choir at one point. I was surprised that I was happy to be asked and really enjoyed the return to ringing. Now, I'm not a good ringer. I'm not bad, probably an advanced beginner. I can passably handle four or five bells given enough practice time, but I don't have many of the advanced skills that more complicated ringing requires. Because many of our members would graduate and we would add new ones, our choir only occasionally advanced to the point of ringing music that was more moderate than easy, probably a good thing for me, as I'm not sure I have it in me to be a much better ringer than I am.
Anyway, I have been ringing for a few weeks to prepare for a concert that was put on this evening by our church choirs and a local community chorus. It was a surprisingly good concert. The bell choir got an enthusiastic response and to tell the truth, we deserved it. It made for a great re-entry to the ringing me. I'm not sure if I'll continue on after today, but it was fun to ring again. And, well, they did ask me if I was available next Sunday........
Two hundred forty-nine to go. Don't be calling me a ding-a-ling!
This clip is hilarious, make sure you stay to the shower bit. WARNING: The "F" word is used liberally, just so you know.
Two hundred fifty to go. You know when you click on an embedded YouTube video and it starts to play and about four minutes in you realize that your cursor is in the center of the screen, but you didn't notice it until then? Yeah.
Two hundred fifty one to go. *Ten useless points if you know the movie that quote is from.
A taste of summer is what we have been enjoying in the northeast these last several days. And dry, dry, dry, it hasn't rained in something like eleven or fourteen days. Cuh-razy! We have had some beautiful days, with the temperature in the sixties, the sun shining bright and days like yesterday with a high of 85 degrees! It is almost like actually having Spring, something I haven't seen in ages around these parts. People are out gardening, socializing, excercising and enjoying. You'd think we had spent the winter snowed under, over and in. It' great. So today I get home from work and brilliant weather aside, I felt like crap. I really didn't want to go out for a walk/run. Thing is, my spotty excercise routine is taking its toll and it isn't good. I sat here with a little bit of a headache and tired and achy, thinking I would just bag it for today (again). There was this part of me though, that didn't want to not go out. I know, that sounds like there was a part of me that wanted to go, and I assure you, that is a totally different thing. Not a single part of me wanted to go, but the part of me that didn't want to not go won out. While I would love to follow up with a tale of a wonderful run, the best ever, wasn't it a good idea that I went, it sucked just as much as I thought it would. I'm still glad the part of me that didn't want to not go won out. It's a love/hate thing.
Another quick book review. While it isn't the best book I have ever read, I can recommend it with a little bit more enthusiasm than I did the last book. On a snowy evening a doctor delivers his own baby, or surprise, babies. The first born healthy, the second with Down's Syndrome. Because of a history that reveals itself throughout the book, he sends his nurse off with the baby, instructing her to put the daughter in an institution and then telling his wife that the baby died. The nurse can't do it and takes the girl to raise herself. The story follows both families through the raising of the children and the fallout of grief, healing, and lies. While the story seems to move along in the beginning and at the end, the middle gets sort of bogged down in the author's attempt to make sure you get it. That you get why the characters are continuing to act the way they do, why they feel the way they do, and with examples of non-communication, when we sort of get that from the beginning. These people don't talk to each other. I got that early on and maybe I didn't need every instance included to remind me. The book does pick up again in the final chapters, leading to a surprising and mostly satisfying end. I think sometimes these books about people that just don't talk to each other, share their feelings, convince each other that they really do love one another just get on my nerves. I know! If they did talk to each other, there probably wouldn't be so much a story to tell, I struggle with that sometimes. I might be a little bit over the drama for the moment and have started a murder mystery. Movin' on, but I really did like this book, it made me cry and the book is better than this shitty review.
Two hundred fifty-two to go. You know, sometimes you hit publish on a crappy post and are just happy to get it over with.
Ten things you love about your life. Heh, so each week, mostly because I haven't got a brain for any kind of recall, I sit here and ask Erin and Pete things like, "What are my favorite comedies?" and "Who are my favorite actors?" Yes, I need my family to tell me what I like, not my opinions mind, just to remind me. The brain, it just isn't what it used to be. Anyway, last week Erin asked why I was always trying to get her to remember these things and I told her about Ten on Tuesday and she wondered if it was always movies and actors and things like that. I told her about some other past list ideas and what this week's topic is going to be and you should have just seen her reaction! The eyes rolling back into her head, groan of disbelief, "Ewww! It's going to be so sappy! People will be all: I love my husband, I love my family, I love my cat, I love my home....." Well then. Here goes, the non-sappy version, I hope.
Two hundred fifty-four to go. SAP ALERT: I love my husband, I love my family, I love my cat.....wait. I hate my cat.
Really, except for the finish, you would think watching a marathon from start to finish would be a little bit like watching paint dry, but every year I am mesmerized. Maybe that's it, maybe it is the running, running, running, running. Puts me in a zen place by just watching it! Hey! Do you think I can get the same cardiovascular and mental/emotional benefits by just watching it on TV? Imagine the injuries that are avoided! Anyway, there I sat, finishing the contract knitting and watching the Boston Marathon. The top two women finishers were shoulder to shoulder throughout the entire race and the finish was edge of your seat exciting. Then I went for a run this evening and felt just like them. Heh.
Two hundred fifty-five to go. This is definitely like running my own marathon, this posting every day. Only without all of the pounding.
I promised more garden (if you can call what I have a garden) photos, and since Sunday is busy for me, I'm throwing this up early to post. I'm glad I didn't post all of my photos on Friday. I even have a few more left, I'm learning ot s-t-r-e-t-c-h things out a little bit. Have a great rest of the weekend!
Two hundred fifty-six to go. S-t-r-e-t-c-h!!!!!
Usually something comes to me during the week for YouTube Saturday, but this week, nothing much. So sometimes I just put a word in the search box and pick something from the first couple of pages and this week I searched for 'commercial.' This one is funny, hope you get a little laugh out of it.
Two hundred fifty-seven to go. Isn't he just adorable!? heh.
I was going to show the photos I took of blooming things, but there are a lot of those out there right now. Spring (or what we call spring in these parts) provides daily evidence of the renewal of the earth so the photo I chose is the newest in my yard, the hostas peeking up, reminding me of the Munchkins in the Wizard of Oz, waking up with tentative peeking and shyly stretching limbs. The flowering things are for another day (and because I do like those photos, you'll get them next week).
Two hundred fifty-eight to go. And more company for the ride. We get by with a little help from our friends. So keep encouraging us, will ya?
I've mentioned before that have become a big time reader of audiobooks. I know I said reader, which isn't exactly correct, but one of my sources expresses gratitide at the end of each book by saying, "and thank you for being a Recorded Books reader." It surprises me every time, and gets me thinking about the reading or the listening and wondering in what production meeting that decision was made. What was that discussion, really? "Well, I think they should be called listeners because they are hearing the book with their ears." "No, that is condescending. Call them readers because, although eyes aren't being used, they are books, not music or other entertainment." I do think about this everytime.
Anyway, my job is such that, while I don't have access to the internet and can't keep up with blogs and Ravelry forums (which I never read and am hearing a lot goes on there) or email, thank goodness, I can work along nicely with my iPod attached to my ears, blocking out the world and catching up on my "reading" while leaving my free time for knitting. Another activity that lends itself to listening. I can get through two or three books each week, along with some podcasts that I like. I have to say that most of the time I am quite pleased with the listening. There are books that I am sure I enjoyed more thanks to the narrator's interpretation, than I might have if I had read the same. I have favorite narrators (Barbara Rosenblat is one, her rendering of the Amelia Peabody series is genius), and some that I avoid, but usually I can get used to almost anybody. So, I thought I'd let you in on the books as they come and go, not really in a review sort of way, but kind of. Like that makes any sense.
I read (listened to) The Gathering by Anne Enright for only one reason, the author shares my maiden name, and that is as good a reason as any to read a book, right? (An aside: I loved the Elizabeth Enright books as a girl and I read them for the same reason.) This book was the winner of The Man Booker prize, so I had high hopes for the selection and while I liked the book it seems to me that there were probably other books as qualified, possibly more, to receive this award. It is an Irish family memoir, a lot of these have been written. It is written from the perspective of a middle child raised in a large family and the story revolves around the relationship with her closest sibling, a brother, that has recently passed away. Told in the present (after the funeral), the recent past (the planning and gathering of the family), and the distant past (the rest of her history), I found it disjointed. I was never sure exactly where in the story I was being dumped. Add to that, her memories are vivid and rich, but sometimes followed by the revelation that she is unsure if that really happened or if she imagined it. And even that sometimes comes pages after the memory is first revealed, so the reader has taken it as fact and then is given cause to doubt, changing the perception of everything depicted in the meantime. While I found this somewhat fatiguing, I also saw it as what is probably true for most, the memories of childhood, clouded by time and mingled with imagination can change for us over the years. In this case it is probably, in part, a defense mechanism, helping Veronica (the narrator and main character) deal with a difficult past. Because this is a family that didn't communicate well, Veronica tells the history of people like her parents and grandparents, but much of it is a story she has made up, not retold stories that she is passing on. It was also difficult to see the other characters as multi-dimensional for the same reason. For someone that knew these people intimately, Veronica shows each of her siblings and other family members as flat, with one main character trait, then blames them for her feelings about them. It was hard to understand her marital issues when pretty much living in her head. Did the things she accuse really happen? You can't tell, as these two seem to talk very little as well.
What I loved about this book was the prose. It can be so irritating, reading an author that uses tired old cliches and overused similes. I found Enright's descriptive narration to be fresh and rich. The telling is quite corporeal, in that Veronica feels every thought and emotion very physically. I tend to be the same way, so it was surprising to me that I could relate on this level to Veronica, although her experienes as a child seem to have her feeling everything in relation to sex, men and their, as she sees it, immoral or unemotional attachment or need for it. In that I can understand her view, but don't feel the same way.
My favorite book of all time? Probably not, but it wasn't a waste, and I loved the Irish narrator. I will read more from this author. I think you should read it so we can talk about it. I know this Irish blogger comes by here occasionally and is a writer herself. So Greenishlady, have you read Anne Enright? What do you think?
Two hundred fifty-nine to go. Send your book recommendations here!
Ten Favorite Movie Comedies. Why is it so difficult to bring some to mind? I know some that I have watched recently, but as I am writing this, I'm thinking really hard to come up with the good ones. Watch, once I get going I won't be able to stop at ten.
Don't accuse me of leaving your favorite off the list (What about Life of Brian? What about Duck Soup? What about The Big Lebowski? Blues Brothers?). Leave it in the comments or make your own danged list! Make sure you let me know if you do, I'll come look and get ideas.
Two hundred sixty to go. What about Caddyshack?
Yep, I'm just sitting here, putting off the knitting I really have to finish, watching Dancing with the Stars and it hits me: I STILL HAVE TO POST TO THE BLOG!!! It was just one of those days. I have deadline knitting, with the deadline looming over me like the dark cloud of doom. I decide to take the morning and work on it exclusively, and you can guess how that went. The phone was ringing off the hook, people must have known I was home for a change. The middle daughter needed things, but couldn't talk. Only texting. Have you seen the kids texting on their cell phones? Fingers flying, books being written in seconds, all of those abbreviations that I can't use (it's just a thing. U R Kewl? Umm, no.), and all of it coming at you a mile a minute. I can't keep up. I mean, it's one thing if the only response needed is, "love you too" (luv u 2!) or "Okay!" (ok!) or "Not a chance in hell!" (No!), but when the response required answers the following: "What blue card? Did I get it in the mail? Can you text me the insurance information? And the address and phone number of my primary care doc? What happens if I don't have it with me?" AAAAAARRRGHHH!!!! Things start twitching, and not my fingers on the keypad. It takes me forEVER to answer that. All of my knitting time was spent texting. And, not for nothing, I don't really want to get good at the texting thing.
After that it was meetings and eating in the car on the way to them and from them and then, the perfect frosting for this cake? An annual exam. (TMI? Tough. It's my day.) Usually I'm all cool and grown up and relaxed about this time of year, but today? I'm going with hot flash, but I think I had an out and out panic attack this afternoon before I went. WTH? (I know it. Heck. Heh. Trying to keep the swearing down a little) Hot flash. That is what it was. AND! My friend (curse) came for a visit. Yes, that friend. Today. Before my exam. Lovely. I love that friend's timing.
Can you blame me for forgetting the blog for a minute?
I set the photo of Johnny Jump Ups from Etherknitter Laurie's post as my backround, and whether the difference to what was there is such a surprise or the photo is just so danged happy, it makes me smile every time I see it.
But enough about me. How about Dancing with the Stars? I didn't think anything could ever top Apollo Anton Ohno, but man! I was psyched when my favorite skating star of all time was a contestant, but then saddned that Max was taking this season off, and then Jason the football player has really stepped up (but honestly, if you were his wife would you leave him alone with Edyta? For a nano-second?!). This is such a great season. If you haven't seen it, you should really check some of the dances out on YouTube. Like this one. Hmmmm, hmm, yummy. I'm still voting for Kristi. And that was just her first week.
Two hundred sixty-one to go. B4N!
I don't know why it took me so long to come up with a post for *G*. I would wonder, "what shall I post for G?" as I drank one of the several cups of green tea I down daily. You know how these things go, the most obvious thing is right in front of you and when you finally see it there, where it always was, it is kind of a dope-slap moment. I went back and forth on how to post this, knowing that this is a photo assignment and the pictures by themselves are enough, but I wanted to put a little personal twist on it. I was going to research and write a post on the types of green teas and the health benefits being reported about them, but instead decided to share my current green tea favorites (this rotations changes pretty often), and direct you to this site and this one, there are so many, for you to read up on green teas if you wish. These are only a very few representations of green teas. There are so many, both Japanese and Chinese, and I am working my way through trying all of them.
This is my favorite green tea, I usually drink at least one cup of this one each day. It has a light flavor, my friend Cyndi is reminded of her garden when drinking it, almost like taking a sip of the garden itself.
This Walnut Green Tea has more substance than the last, lighter tea. I think most would consider it a dessert tea, it is a little heavier and has more of a texture to it when in your mouth. It is flavored with bits of coconut, walnuts, almonds and pineapple in a mild infusion that doesn't at all overwhelm the tea flavor. I first tasted this tea in Salt Lake City with friends, and sipping it brings back a taste and emotional memory that I love.
This tea is a blend of green tea (usually Sencha, I think) and roasted brown rice. You can see in the photo that some of the rice pops in the roasting and looks like popcorn, so I like to think of this as a snack tea, and I really do often drink it with popcorn while watching a movie. I love the roasted flavor. Historically, the rice was added to a lesser grade tea as a filler to make it less expensive, but is now consumed by a more general population.
This tea has an earthy, but not quite grassy flavor that is wonderful. With no other flavorings or scents, the natural essence of the tea itself is the highlight and I love it.
I highly recommend purchasing loose, whole leaf teas. The tea that is sold in bags is generally (but not always) a ground up leaf, sometimes a less than quality leaf as well. Whole leaf teas bloom in the brewing and offer a wonderful body and flavor to your cup. I can almost never drink any other teas now, it seems a waste to me to have a sub-par cup of tea. And look what happens when you take those dried leaves and pour hot (but not boiling or you'll get a bitter, nasty cup!) water on them (this is the Feather Tip):
Two hundred sixty-two to go. What shall I post for *H*?
I usually stay up way too late, so shows like The Tonight Show and David Letterman are familiar to me. Sometimes I catch Nightline and this week I was glad I did. I got a preview of this movie and now I can't wait to see it. Young@Heart Chorus is a group of senior citizens that cover popular rock songs. They rehearse and tour and what you might think would be comedic or a little too community auditions is actually really good. I knew I wanted to use one of their performances for my YouTube Saturday post, but wasn't sure which way to go, so I chose two. The first, 'Fix You' by Coldplay is poignant and gives more meaning to a song that I love. The second is a hysterical music video of an older tune. Should cheer you right up again. I hope I am having as much fun as they are when I am their age.
Oh come on! They have the same letters, it was a typo, not a Freudian. Really.
In my usual copy-cat form, I'm taking a
page post from Margene's book blog and basically reproducing at least part of what she did today. Where would I be without friends? Here are five questions to answer:
1. Your (in my case) husband (you can fill in whatever s.o. works) cheats on you with your best friend, who are you more mad at? I've had to give this one a little bit of thought, because I have some reason to believe that my husband and my best friend have a relationship of an intimate nature. Some days I am just plain mad at them both and others not. I suppose I could tell them not to see each other ever again, but that would be hard seeing as my husband and my best friend reside in the same body. I think most of us know that it might be
hard, uh difficult to keep them apart.
2. Is there something someone could say to you that would cross a boundary of not being able to take back or forgive them? This question harbors too many variables, and I tend to be a person that finds it difficult to harbor a grudge. I can only think of two in my lifetime, and don't care to share them here, BUT. In our marriage we have agreed to fight mostly fair, so if either one of us ever says things that even hint at ending the marriage or moving out or find somebody else, well, them's real fightin' words and we don't say 'em lessin' we mean 'em.
3. What non-sexual body part do you find the sexiest? The personality, not technically a body part. So the eyes then, the mirrors of the
4. Would you ever consider cosmetic surgery to have the perfect body? Heh.There is no such thing as the perfect body and well, I consider it all the time! I'm 99.9% sure I'd never do it except to fix something serious, illness, removal, stuff like that. I'm leaving that .1% open because my mom always told me "never say never."
5. Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex? Lots and lots! Just not in the way I think this question is inferring.
Two hundred sixty-four to go. Well, wasn't that fun.
|Your Psyche is Blue|
By simply understanding other people, you are able to help them heal and let go.
While you are a very deep and thoughtful person, you do have a very silly, superficial side.
When you are too blue: the weight of the world's problems hangs over you
When you don't have enough blue: you lack perspective and understanding
I can think of quite a few people that must be laughing their selves silly reading that. I'm one of them. Very connected..... Heal and let go. Hahahahahaha. The colors fit in well with the blog though, don't you agree?
Minutia. You asked for it, or at the very least, encouraged me. Let me know when you change your mind.
Today was the best weather day of the year so far. That is if you like it sunny, seventy degrees and breezy. I work four days each week, generally taking Friday off, but when I heard the forecast I decided to make today my day off. It was the perfect day for a five mile walk/run, longer by far than any walk I've taken recently. My ankle has been sprained, so I have been sticking to the gym. Even that has been a bit spotty the last few months. Consequently, my legs are tired and sore tonight. I love it now, but in the morning when I can't get out of bed I'll be singing a different story. I followed that up with chocolate, iced tea, hot tea and knitting in my three season porch. This will be the one day all spring it is usable. Heh. It was actually too warm to stay out for a long time and knit, my hands were too sweaty. I can tell Pete is itching to put the screens in, but it really is too early. So for now on any nice days it will just be a sauna. Our weather tomorrow reverts to the usual cloudy, wet and chilly spring we are used to. Today is a tease, but a tease that gives hope.
My computer has been saved from an early demise. I haven't actually done the things that caused it to have problems, the spontaneous
combustion shut-down that happened when I was loading cds or watching video or lately, just scrolling down through a page, but the fan is much quieter and kicking on less frequently, so we shall see. It seems that the ventilation intake was totally clogged causing the motor to quickly overheat. Hmmm.... I could probably vacuum that out myself and save $100. I'll have to figure that out.
Meagan's boyfriend, Brian, performed his senior recital tonight and we took the ride to Boston to hear it. He is a jazz trombonist and formed a combo of talented young musicians to play mostly original music. I expected it to be good, but I was surprised to have enjoyed it as much as I did. I went to be nice an supportive and ended up having an amazing time. What on earth do jazz trombonists do after graduation? Brian is headed to law school. Apparently he is more than a talented musician, having been accepted to all of the nine or twelve or so law schools he applied to. While this is great, after hearing him tonight I really hope he never stops playing, it would be a shame for the arena of jazz music to lose such a talented young musician. Time will tell how that works out, but one thing seems likely. What ever he does, he'll be a success, he is just that kind of kid.
Shit! I went past midnight! Now I'll have to change the posting date on this post to make it for yesterday. And I just plain need to go to bed. My *G* post is coming!
Two hundred sixty-five to go. I almost typed *g* string or spot. It is late.
The kitchen table. Had you been to my home recently, meaning anytime in the last year or so, you may have gone to have a seat at the kitchen table and realized that, well, there was no place to rest your body. There was a table, but no chairs. The table had chairs for so many years. Family rumour has it that my dad was circumcised on that table, and I'm guessing my grandfather and the doctor sat in those chairs. Over the years the table went from my grandmother's house to my parent's and then to mine. Always with chairs. It appears that my family was just too much for those chairs. Years of people leaning back in them and throwing them in piques of temper (no, not me. Never me.) put the chairs, one by one, right over an edge they couldn't be brought back from. I resisted replacing them, I was optimistically awaiting my kitchen renovation and didn't feel the need. Lately, I've been weary of the chairless table that greets visitors to my kitchen. And while we have a dining room, the family dinners have not moved into that room, but to the family room in front of the television, and that just doesn't seem right either. So, when I saw these chairs outside an antique shop that I work near, I caved. I snatched them up and it turns out they aren't too bad a match. The kitchen, for all of its shortcomings, now has a homier feel. The chairs are inviting and I was glad make a pot of tea and sit, sip and spin for a few minutes. Without having to just stand around in my own kitchen. Come by for a cuppa, you'll have someplace to sit for a change.
Two hundred sixty-six to go. Sittin', sippin', spinnin'.
To the point: Ten favorite actors and/or actresses. As per usual, I can't even think of two that I would consider absolute favorites, but I'll come up with some sort of list, some will be based on one performance that I love, others will be performers that will draw me to every film they make. I imagine my list will look similar to many.
As usual, this is just the list I came up with today, no doubt influenced by what I have seen recently and the list could be different by next week. I'll just have to do another list then.
Two hundred sixty-seven to go. I could do two hundred sixty-seven lists by the end of the year. That is a great idea.
If you end up reading this post, it means one of two things. Either my laptop, which has been a royal pain in the *ss lately, is still at the computer repair place and it isn't anything easy or I decided to just leave this post up anyway. Probably because I was lazy. So please excuse if you expected an email from me or a response to a comment or whatever. It is beyond my control for the moment. I'm really hoping that this is a simple fix. I don't really have the cash to replace this thing. Ugh.
Two hundred sixty-eight to go. Or the posting every day is shot, depending on the outcome of above.
In a search for something quick to write about today I stumbled or bumbled upon this site. A question for every day of the week, not bad. A great fallback for days like today, when I was so caught up in doing almost nothing (well, that is not really true. I did stuff...) that the nothing almost turned into nothing for a post. Since I didn't get my *g* photos taken either (part of the nothing that was something, just not that), I decided this idea was as good as any, and probably a lot better than some. The prompt:
My mother has taught me that I must vacuum the house daily, I was not born in a barn and therefore must remember to shut the front door behind me, and that if I want nice skin I have to wash my face twice a day. What three random things has your mother taught you?
What three things? Hard to narrow it down, but here goes. I learned, sort of indirectly, the importance of stability in a child's life. A homelife with parents that are dependable and there with you, and if I have done nothing else, I gave my kids two parents that have worked it out their whole childhoods. I learned a love of music and got a soundtrack for my youth. And for better or worse (depending on who you ask) she taught me to knit, purl and turn a four stitch cable. After that I was on my own.
So, please share, on your blog or in the comments. What are three things that you learned from your mom?
Two hundred sixty-nine to go. Three things I have probably taught my girls: To love reading (and how to block everybody out when you are lost in a book), to persevere through adversity (my way of saying it? Suck It Up!) and that nobody wants "she had the cleanest house" on their gravestone. heh.
Melissa Etheridge is as gorgeous as any woman has been in that performance. She just looks happy, the part that makes me smile. But on another day I think of everything she and all women with breast cancer go through and that makes me cry.
That got me thinking about when I was a kid, my dad or mom or both had this album. I loved it. Mercedes Benz is one of my all time favorite songs. As sad as her story is, you have to wonder if we would have had the music she gave had she been clean and sober. You should go watch the different YouTube offerings of Mercedes Benz. Some are cute, and if I'm going to spend all of this time on a trip down Janis Joplin memory lane, you should too. How about an interview? It's a pretty good interview andI'll bet nobody was shocked when she lit up right there and then. So many things have changed. Here she is doing the songs that Melissa E. and Joss Stone did to get you going:
Two hundred seventy to go. Oh Lord, won't you buy me, a Norm Hall Spinning Wheel........
On Blogging Everyday. Or just blogging in general.
Well, there you go. I've been sitting here, too tired to think of a fourth list to make. So you get thirty this time. Hey, I finally have come up with a "G" post, so you have that to look forward to. I hope I get decent pics. Then the pressure of "H."
Two hundred seventy-one to go. TGIF.
I''m begging everyone's pardon. I have been a lousy member of the blogging community. My response to emails and comments has been spotty, at best, and while I have been reading blogs (not all of you every day, I get to some each day) I haven't been so good at commenting. I'm working on getting a response out to everybody that commented on Monday's post. It is an interesting thing, this era of the never aging person. Most people were of the same opinion, that it is a personal decision and at the moment they aren't thinking of it, but who knows what they will feel about their reflection in a few years. I can tell you what I feel about mine now. There is one spot that, if I were not so worried about the risk and pain, I would change in a second. I'll bet you think it is the boobs. Nope. Although, for those of you that cautioned the downside of *big* ones, don't worry. If anything I would just like to fill an A cup. That is it. I remember when I was nursing, which I did for a long time with each kid, being able to go into Victoria's Secret and buy real bras. Pretty, lacy things that didn't need padding to make it look like I actually had something there. Oh, those were great days. So, while there is that one spot, I'll wait.
There is also the wide range of results. I mean, we all know that Susan Lucci must have had work done, but she looks great. How long until she needs more, and then starts looking like Joan Rivers? You get the eye lids done, then the cheeks need a little something, and then the lips look too thin next to the cheeks, which makes the chin look too saggy and before you know it, Barbie or the Cat Woman! I can just see it happening, I do tend to get carried away with things. And what about this world that is so image driven that it dictates how we should feel about ourselves based on our aging looks? This the world that believes that Charlize Theron looks bad here? On my best day, I never looked that good. At least the commenters stood up for her. My good friend Cyndi had given this some thought, enough to comment twice to this post:
I have to comment again. I so agree w/ the big boob thing: they are not all they are cracked up to be!! Also, altho once in awhile I am a bit surprised and chagrined to see this older lady looking back at me from the mirror, for the most part I am rather curious to see how I will age. The fact is I am getting older and since I actually enjoy the increased self-confidence and sense of adventure that has come with maturity (!), I think I should ultimately like the person -- even physically -- that I will become!
I wish that you all get to meet Cyndi someday. At 51 and having raised six daughters, a grandmother to two, she is stunning. Her skin is gorgeous (she has always shunned the sun), her eyes bright and her attitude wonderful, which shines through. She is the example I use when cautioning my girls to use sunscreen.
Etherknitter Laurie's comment was the most sobering, and she knows best of what she speaks:
One of the plastics guys estimated that 1% of the population engages in plastic surgery. Even if he is wrong by 100%, and it's 2%, it still isn't much. Lifestyle can go a distance towards graceful aging. Not smoking goes without saying. Staying out of the sun is critical. Appropriate weight helps. Alas, the thinner ones show age faster in the face. No plastic surgery (except maybe boobs) lasts indefinitely. The surgeons say you get 5-10 years out of a facelift. If the skin texture sucks because of years of sun exposure, then it is mostly wrinkles that are lifted, and sagging, but the texture gives away the story. Even boobs have a ~15% reoperation rate for scars, rupture, etc. No procedure is risk free. Anesthetic drugs have significant side effects, and I suspect we have only begun to investigate some of the more sobering ones. I was absolutely sure when I was younger, that I would never do it. As I age, I wonder about a little something here or there. Then I snap back to rational thinking, and trust that my husband will love me as I am, as time goes on.
And that last sentence, along with Cyndi's comment, really does sort of capture it. I know my husband will love me as I am, but the thing is, will I love myself as I am? Will you? That remains to be seen I guess.
Two hundred seventy-three to go. Hee, I have visions of us all moving to Vermont, building a commune of saggy, droopy, but happy and loving hermits.
Ten Things You Would Fix In Your Home (if you had the time and money). AAARGH! I already wrote this post and it disappeared into the ether. So here we go again. My hands are cold and I keep making typing errors and was about to hit publish and now I have to start from scratch. Anyway, here we go. As I take a mental stroll through my home it comes down to three things. First, the floors. Then the feel. As if feel is something I can explain, but I don't think I have a knack for creating a homey feel and I'd hire someone to come in and help me with that. Last is the kitchen. The whole thing needs a good gutting and a redo, so I'll tell you about ten of the things in the kitchen that could use the work.
We did, at one point, have a plan drawn up, ordered new appliances and hired a contractor. We had the money and were ready to go. The contractor let us down and before we could get another the money ended up being used for tuitions and other stuff that came up. You know how that goes. If we had managed to get it finished we would have come up with the tuition money, but coming up with kitchen renovation money isn't the top priority at this second. Bummer.
Two hundred seventy-four to go. I have just blogged one day over five months in a row! w00t!