That’s right. Mardi Gras beads, Chucks, and yellow long-johns under a lace-trimmed jumper. Winter brings out the crazy in our wardrobes around here.
Rylie’s room smells like fajitas. Any help on this? Is it because her door is so often closed? Is it because I browned meat the other day and the scent drifted to her room and formed a permanent attachment to her brown shag rug? Will it ever go away? The smell is strong. Strong enough to make one think, upon opening her door in the morning, that you’ve entered a small Mexican Taco Cabana… in Mexico. While I am not opposed to this, per se, the logical side of me would like to know the phenomena behind “baby room smell” so I can check that mystery off my list and move on.
I am somewhat behind on Copperfield. This is because, on Tuesday, I had my annual physical. Pass the wine, please. After the
violation appointment, I dragged myself, Rylie Joy, and Renae to the yarn shop for a little therapy. It is time, we decided, to learn to knit SOCKS. Three hours later, we left with a pattern, sock yarn, k-new k-needles, and a child who had almost pulled herself OUT of her long-johns in boredom desperation.
And now, I cannot stop. The yarn… it stripes All. By. Itself. The needles… they are so fast and smooth and shiny. Now, you won’t save any money k-nitting your own socks. A skein costs about $15 and that makes a pair, but oh the results of handmade beauty on your feet. I cannot wait. Curt is beyond tired of the following conversation he hears coming from the crazy balled-up girl k-nitting in the crazy red chair by the crazy hot fire:
oh, another green
oooh… it’s turning light green- CURT!
It’s turning light green…
to lighter green
to ORANGE! CURT! It’s turning to orange!!!
grey to… what’s next? What. IS. THIS?!
YELLOW! CURT! It’s yellow- look. It’s yellow.
So, I need to catch up on my Dickens.
What book didn’t you finish in High School English? For me, there was only one: Tom Sawyer. I gave up on that boy at about page 30 and never looked back. I don’t even feel bad about it. Not one teensy bit. I remember the crazy sense of (nerdy) confident rebellion I had… I’m not finishing this book! Me- crazy AP English reading girl Will. Not. Finish. This. Book. because I don’t want to.
I know… it’s a wonder my backsliding didn’t turn my life to the dark side right then and there and land my butt in jail. Thank goodness for all you people in my life keeping me on the straight and narrow. You are, no doubt, angels in disguise.
And, I mean that. Angels. We love you so.
Blessings to you this [frigid, -10°] weekend.