Like I Don’t Have Enough To Do Already…

As you know, I’ve been trying to knit a blanket for H’s sitter.  I’ve also been trying to knit squares for baby blankets to be donated to charity.  I wrote here about my experience at the first meeting for knitting the squares.  It wasn’t that great.

The good news is that I haven’t given up.  Although I’m spending all my time on Maggie’s baby blanket, I do have a square or two in the hopper.  And the best part is that I’ve connected with another crafter.

When I was at the knitting meeting a few weeks ago, my colleague, Bill ran into an old friend of ours.  Deb asked about me and Bill told her that I was doing the knitting for charity thing.  She crochets and was interested in the project, so she IMed me the next day.  I shared all that I knew about the project and we spent a few moments catching up.  The next week we got together briefly so that she could show me the squares she’d made and also so I could see some of the yarn she found.  Oh yeah…and so we could vent about the baby blanket squares project’s Crabby Leader. 

As it turns out, the charity project has been a nice common denominator for Deb and I to connect with.  In fact, she has insisted that I can learn to crochet and we’re spending our lunch hour today in the cafeteria where she’s going to teach me.

I know.  I know.  I’m complaining about not having enough time for knitting, and now I’m going to learn to crochet?  But her squares were SO CUTE!  And if I could do something like that…how great would that be?

So…yes…I’m adding another potential addiction to my resume…knitting, blogging, reading, and now crocheting.

Wait til I tell you about the book fair The Boy and I went to last week!  Somehow I’m gonna need to figure out how to read, knit, crochet and blog all at the same time.  Oh yeah…and football season will start soon…so add yet another addiction!  (You knew I couldn’t possibly have a post without mentioning football…Go Zorn!)

What are your “addictions”?

What Was I Thinking Again?

H’s daycare provider, Maggie, is having a baby.  Her baby boy is due in mid-July.  Also, H’s last day with Maggie is July 2nd, as he will be starting preschool on July 6th.

I wanted to do something special for Maggie’s baby, but didn’t know what that would be.  She has a large family and already has everything she needs for the baby, especially since she runs a home daycare.  I have a gift for H to give Maggie on his last day as a goodbye and thank you, but I’ve struggled to come up with an idea for a gift for the baby.

I finally decided that I wanted to do something personal and special.  Although I’m just a beginning knitter, I really wanted to make a blanket for the baby.  I selected a very simple pattern, so that I wouldn’t get discouraged and also so that I would be able to work through it more quickly.  I purchased some wonderfully soft yarn.  And then I cast on my first baby blanket on June 7th.

IT IS TAKING ME FOREVER!

I have no idea how I’m going to finish the blanket before the baby arrives.  I work on it every spare chance I get, but as of today, the blanket is only about 40% complete.  My goal was to either use the hand-knit blanket to wrap up some other items that I’ve purchased for the baby or to fold the blanket and bundle it with a pretty satin ribbon and place it in a basket with the other goodies for baby. 

I have really good aspirations.

I just don’t have skill or time.

ARGHHHHHHHHH. 

The blanket looks fine so far.  It’s still so very small and still coming along slowly.  My fear is that I will be ashamed of it when I’m finished and will be embarrassed to give it to her after all the time and work I put into it.  I really really wanted something special for her.  Now, I’m second guessing my decision to knit the blanket.

Why do I do these things to myself?

Oh and I was also going to knit a matching gift bag to put little items in like baby shampoo, etc.  But that’s not going to happen now. 

What was I thinking?

Knit Happens

I’m basically a shy person.  I find it difficult to “put myself out there” and as a result, I have a tough time making new friends. 

In recent months, there have been some people in my life who have drifted away.  I no longer hear from these people, they no longer care about me, and my efforts to try to maintain the relationship became too exhausting.  So I’ve let go.  It’s sad, but it was time.

This has left me wanting to build new relationships.  I’m no good at that.

I’ve decided that I should put forth more effort and try to come out of my shell a bit more.  Don’t get me wrong, I am friendly, I just never initiate a greeting, meeting or anything like that.  So my first effort was to do more than say “Good Morning” to the lady I park next to in the corporate parking garage every single morning.  Up until a few days ago, I didn’t even know her name.  But the other morning, we arrived at the same time as we typically do.  She had the rear hatch of her SUV opened and was trying to clean up something that had spilled.  I got out of my car and offered to help her.  That lead to a conversation and an introduction.  Now when we arrive together, we walk to the office together and are getting to know one another.  So simple.  What took me so long? 

On Tuesday, I noticed a volunteer opportunity at the office.  A group of people are knitting and crocheting squares to make baby blankets to be donated to the Coalition for the Homeless.  The effort is to honor our former CFO who passed away in April.  He was on the board of the Coalition.  The group meets every other Wednesday during lunch to hand in any squares they’ve made, to receive knitting or crocheting lessons, and to knit and crochet more squares.  I was very excited as this sounded perfect for me.  I would have an excuse to knit at work, would be able to contribute something to a good cause in memory of a good person, and would have an opportunity to meet new people.  So I signed up!

I went home Tuesday night and started a square.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish one in just the hour on Wednesday, so I wanted a head start.  I wanted to be able to contribute one square at my first meeting.  So I made a quick stop at the store to buy some yarn to meet the groups specifications and cranked out 3/4 of a square before bed. 

On Wednesday, I headed over to Building One to meet with the group.  It had been raining off and on all day, but when I left the front of my building, it wasn’t raining at all, so I did not grab one of the umbrellas that The Company provides.  I was about a quarter of the way to Building One, when it started pouring.  I ran (in my high heeled sandals), but was drenched by the time I reached cover. 

Anyway, I kept going and entered the cafeteria where the group was meeting.  I saw a woman setting up – placing completed squares on the table and displaying a blanket she had already sewn together.  I could tell that she was the project leader/organizer.  It’s so unlike me, but with my desire to make new friends, I took a deep breath and walked right up to her.  I put on a big smile, held out my hand to shake hers and said in a very upbeat manner, “Hi!  My name is Nothing Fancy.  It’s nice to meet you.  I’m looking forward to helping with the project.”  She shook my hand and said in a dead pan voice “Nice to meet you.  Sign in on the sign in sheet.” 

She never told me her name, never looked at me and never cracked a smile.  So I signed in, took a seat and pulled out my needles and yarn and started knitting.  I raved about how lovely the blanket was and what a wonderful job she did sewing it together.  I got nothing.  I raved about what a wonderful cause this is.  I got nothing.  I knew one person at the meeting and she was very friendly and nice.  I had never met any of the other ladies.  I tried to make chit-chat with the ladies sitting near me, but it was difficult.  The cool reception I received from the crabby leader had spoiled all the feel-good I had before I got there. 

Other ladies arrived.  Some just dropped off squares and some stayed to make more squares.  One woman was teaching a group of ladies to crochet.  There was only one other knitter there besides me.  When she arrived, she brought several squares that she had made since the last meeting.  Crabby Leader raved over them.  They were mustard/puke yellow.  Crabby Leader said that they were wonderful and that she was thrilled to have some yellow.  She never acknowledged me sitting there knitting with a gigantic ball of beautiful pastel yellow.  I continued to knit and made small talk with the ladies near me.

The meeting ended at 12:30.  And at exactly 12:30 Crabby Leader started packing up.  I was very very close to finishing my square and was knitting as fast as I could.  I finally finished it up and handed it to Crabby Leader after she’d already packed up the squares.  I said, “Here’s one more square.”  She said nothing.  I turned and started putting my supplies in my bag and pretended that I thought she said thank you and I said “Oh, you’re welcome.”  She looked for the sign-in sheet and said “You need to mark that one down.”  Meaning that I should indicate that I donated a square.  I said, “I wrote it down when I arrived as I knew I’d finish before leaving.”  That’s when it occurred to her that she was crabby, so she threw me a bone and said, “Very nice.  Thank you.”

I hope that saying those words didn’t cause her too much pain. 

I headed back to my building and yes, of course, it was still raining cats and dogs.  Again, I was drenched upon my arrival, in spite of carrying an umbrella this time.  I entered the building soaking wet, fought with the umbrella while standing in the lobby as I couldn’t get it folded up properly while all of the rain fell of the umbrella and on to me.  Finally I got it folded up and placed it in the umbrella stand and started walking off while still brushing some of the rain off my slacks.  I walked a few steps when I heard the security guard, “MAAM!  MAAM!  MAAM!  I NEED TO SEE YOUR ID BADGE!”  Good grief.  The man sees me every single morning when I arrive and show him my badge AND he sees me every single afternoon when I come down for lunch AND I entered the front door carrying a Company issued umbrella with THE COMPANY written all over it.  Good grief.  My day just kept getting better and better.

My one and only effort to put myself out there, to do something that I would normally avoid because the prospect of it just makes me too uncomfortable, did not turn out as I had hoped.  I suppose I will go to the next meeting in 2 weeks, but it will be really difficult to motivate myself to do so.  More likely, I’ll make a few squares at home and just drop them off.  I don’t know.

Are you shy or outgoing?  Do you find it easy or difficult to make new friends?  How do you feel about joining a group where you don’t know any of the participants?  How do you handle it when you put yourself outside of your comfort zone and receive a cool reception?

The Guys

On Friday, we had a tree cut down in our backyard.  H enjoyed watching the 2 men work and immediately started calling them “Guys.”  He spent most of the evening looking out at them through the french doors in the family room and walking out onto our screened porch for a closer look.  He was thrilled with the entire process.

The “guys” were still working when it was time for H to go to bed.  I took him outside to say goodnight to Blue Eyes.  H told his father good night, but couldn’t keep his eyes off of the “guys”.  He said it at first under his breath, “Goodnight Guys.”  Then when he didn’t get a response, he said it a bit louder, until he finally said it LOUD AND CLEAR.

The “guy” who wasn’t up in the tree smiled and waved to H.  H was pleased and then and only then was he ready for bed.

Last night at bedtime, H and I did our normal routine, which includes a story and prayers.  We said our prayers together and then asked God to bless each member of our family.  After we said “God Bless Granddaddy,” H added a blessing of his own.

“God Bless the Guys.”

Who knew that a couple of guys cutting down a tree could make such an impression?

Nancy and the Change Purse

I haven’t entertained you all with a “Nancy” story in quite some time.  Here’s a quick one!

Background: 

 I love to share stories about my coworker, Nancy.  Nancy is a man and of course, “Nancy” is not his real name.  It’s a nickname that my colleague and friend, Bill, and I have determined is most suitable.  Nancy is a 45-year old married man with 2 children.  He is college-educated and has worked for over 20 years in the finance industry.  He is an idiot and a pansy.  Click here for more Nancyisms.  You won’t be disappointed.

The Story:

At lunch today, I was the first to arrive at the lunch table in the cafeteria.  Nancy came next and joined me.  We spoke of a luncheon to be held next week for a former coworker.  Another coworker is taking a collection to purchase a gift for the former coworker and present it to her at the luncheon.  Here’s how the conversation went:

Nancy:  I gave Karen money for the gift. 

Me:  Hmmm.

Nancy:  I gave $14.  That seems like an odd amount, but that’s all I had.  I went to my car and got the $14 and then gave it to Karen.  I keep my change purse in the car and it only had $14 in it.

Me:  Oh. 

LOL LOL LOL LOL

What man calls his wallet a CHANGE PURSE?

Why does he keep his “change purse” in the car?

He knew he was going to give the donation, so why didn’t he bring it into the office with him when he arrived this morning, rather than making a trip back out to the car?

And finally…

WHAT MAN CALLS HIS WALLET A CHANGE PURSE?

Then Bill told me that Nancy told him the exact same story this morning, complete with the reference to “his change purse.”

LOL LOL LOL LOL

Life In A Small Town

Several of my fellow bloggers have been sharing their memories of growing up – in the city, in the country, or in a small town.  Reading about their “good ole days” has sparked memories of my own.

I grew up in a small town.  Although it was not far from a metropolitan area (about 50 miles), we rarely ventured to the city.  We lived in a brick rambler on 3 acres.  In fact, Dad still lives there.  It wasn’t exactly country living, but certainly not city or town living either.

For some reason, I started to think about the pets we had growing up.  We had cats and dogs.  The pets lived outside and were rarely let inside the house. 

The cats lived in the garage and had a basket with a blanket for sleeping.  They had a litter box in the garage too, but mostly they had a 3 acre litter box.  My cat’s name was Frisky and she was the absolute best mouser around.  She loved to go off into the tall grassy areas to hunt and she never failed to show off her captures by leaving a mouse’s head and guts on the door mat just outside the door to the garage.  Yes, it was always smart to look before taking that first step into the garage, or you might be sorry.  Occasionally we’d be treated to a full mouse, but usually she snacked a bit before we found our gift.  On extra special occasions, she’d leave us a bird. 

Anyway, Frisky was a barn cat without a barn.  And she was pregnant everytime we turned around.  She had kittens in Mom & Dad’s closet, she had kittens in the basement, and she had kittens in her basket in the garage.  Sometimes we were present for the births, other times we’d find her after all of the kittens were born and we wondered why she didn’t come running when we called.  We loved the kittens and after each litter, we begged Mom & Dad to let us keep one.  They were softies and we always did keep one of the kittens. 

Inky was the favorite of all of Frisky’s kittens.  You guessed it, he was all black and a total sweetheart.  When subsequent litters were born, Inky would lay with them and care for them.  I wish I could remember what happened to Inky (TYPO, do you remember?), but he didn’t outlive his mother. 

Spiffy was the creepy kitten.  Why we selected him to keep from the litter, I’ll never know.  I suspect he was the one we couldn’t give away.  He loved to sit on the ledge outside the kitchen bay window.  He’d sit for a while, then he’d disappear for days or months, only to return on special occasions.  One time, he was gone for well over 6 months and returned on Christmas day – sitting on the ledge like he was never gone.  He came back for birthdays and holidays.  He was creepy. 

I remember one litter and wish I could remember how old I was, but I know I named the kittens:  Muffy, Tuffy, Cuffy and Fluffy.  I pray that my baby sister was the one to name them, but secretly, I know it was me.  Smokey was another favorite – so cute.  But he ran away and found a new home a few miles away.  I saw him with another family when my school bus stopped at their house.  I went and got him, but he ran back there – so I just let them keep him.  He obviously preferred his life there. 

When Frisky had her kittens, we always found homes for them.  One time, the kittens were at the age when it was time to give them away, so Mom told me to take them around and try to give them away.  I invited my neighbor friend to go with me.  We put all of the kittens in a box and carried them around to all of houses within walking distance.  Mom told us to be sure to stop at the Brundige’s house since they lived in a farm-like home with barns, etc.  Plus she thought we might we might get a chance to meet Bill Brundige. 

Who is Bill Brundige, you say?  Well, you know that I’m a HUGE Redskins fan.  Bill Brundige played defensive end for the Redskins in the 1970s.  In fact, it was Brundige who blocked Garo Yepremian’s field goal attempt with less than 2 minutes left in Super Bowl VII.  That’s the play where Yepremian managed to get the ball back and instead of falling on it, he tried to throw a pass.  The ball slipped from his hands, Brundige tipped it and Redskins’ cornerback Mike Bass caught it and returned it for a touchdown.  The Skins didn’t win, but this is considered one of the most bizarre plays in Superbowl history.

Back to kittens.  My friend and I walked to the Brundige house with our box full of kittens.  Mrs. Brundige answered the door to find 2 little girls standing there with a box of kittens.  We asked her if she would like to have one and we could tell right away that she was a kitty lover.  She oohed and aahed over the kittens and finally selected one to keep.  We thanked her and started to walk away.  Before we got off her porch, she called out to us, “Wait!  Bill is going to kill me, but I want 2!”  So we turned around and she picked out a 2nd kitten.  We were thrilled and ran home to tell Mom.

I don’t recall how old Frisky was when she died, but do recall her demise.  She was hit by a manure spreader that drove by on the road in front of our house.  Sad day.

I also want to write about our dogs, but realize that I’ve gone on and on about Frisky and her kittens here, so I’ll save the dog stories for another day.

Are you a kitty lover?  What is your favorite chilhood pet memory?

What Was I Thinking?

I got my Invisalign last night. 

I had no idea that the dentist would have to install “attachers” onto my teeth.  Directly on the front of my teeth.  I really don’t know how I thought the aligners would stay in place, but the attachers never occurred to me.  I now have 10 attachers on my teeth.  Good grief.  I look ridiculous.

The appointment was annoying.  The dentist had me leaned back so far in the chair that I felt like I was upside down the entire time.  Then while he did his thing, his assistant was supposedly in charge of ensuring that I didn’t drown in my own saliva – but instead I just felt it run down my face and neck and into my shirt the entire time.  It really was the worst appointment ever.  I totally missed my regular hygienist, Gretchen, and have a whole new respect for her talents.

Anyway, the attachers are attached and the Invisalign are in.  I’m having a terrible time getting them out.  I’ve decided to skip my morning coffee, because it’s just too much effort to take the dang things out, drink the coffee, then brush and put the aligners back in.  I’m already dreading lunchtime, when I’ll have to go to the ladies room and stick my entire hand in my mouth in an effort to remove the aligners.  Ugh.

Anyway, they are in.  Oops I said that already.  But what else can I say?  I have a slight lisp, but I guess that will fade as I get used to them.  I feel weird.  Everyone keeps saying that when it’s all said and done, I’ll have a nice smile.  I thought I already had a nice smile.  Plus, what’s the use of having straight teeth, when they’re yellow?  Guess I’ll have to brighten them when I’m done straightening them.  But I’ve been there, done that…and wasn’t pleased with the results.

Que Sera Sera.

Diversity Calendar

When I arrived at work yesterday, the first thing I did was flip my wall calendar to June.  The Company produces a diversity calendar for all employees and that’s what I having hanging at my desk.  Each month features a different group and provides a tidbit of information about the group to go along with a picture for that month’s theme.  I enjoy reading the tidbits, often learning things that I never knew before.  The pictures, on the other hand, typically leave much to be desired.

I’m not sure where they come up with the pictures, but there have been months when I’ve been a bit freaked out and have “accidentally” tacked a memo or something over the picture, so that I didn’t have to stare at it for an entire month. 

January

The theme is Norwegian culture.  The information is interesting and I enjoyed reading it.  The picture is a woman dressed in traditional Norwegian attire standing in front of a Norwegian American Museum.  I’m assuming she’s a woman based on the attire and jewelry, since her hair, nails and lack of any makeup or eyebrow grooming, leave me guessing.  Hard to imagine what the other museum guides look like, since she was selected as the calendar girl.

February

The theme is African American History Month and the tidbit of information is about a premiere African American theater company.  The picture is of a prize winning and obviously quite talented theater producer.  I have no problem with this picture, but it is a very tight close up, which doesn’t seem necessary.  I also find it odd that for African American History Month, they chose to feature someone whom I never would have guessed is actually African American, based on his very light skin.

March

March is Women’s History Month, featuring a University’s Biology department that is 38% female.  I’m not really impressed by that.  Anyway, the picture is 2 female professors sitting on a table in a classroom, chatting.  Yawn.

April

The theme is Diversity at Work and includes a picture of a diverse group of employees chatting in a lounge area at an office.  It’s a great candid shot where the employees seem genuine and happy.  Looks like a great place to work!

May

May is devoted to Asian/Pacific American Heritage Month.  The photo features a Vietnamese man dressed in traditional attire, ringing in the Vietnamese New Year in a predominantly Vietnamese American enclave in New Orleans.  Nice picture and good information.

June

As I mentioned, I turned my calendar to June yesterday.  June features Gay and Lesbian Pride Month.  I did not immediately look at the picture, instead I first read the information about a GLBT community center in San Francisco.  It was interesting and I went on to read further information about the community center offered at the bottom of the calendar.  Then I looked at the picture.  Where do they find these people?

The photo is of eight people standing outside the community center.  I think it’s 6 men and 2 women.   I’m not sure about one that I “think” is a woman.  The crew cut, sunglasses and over-sized tee shirt lead me to believe man, but then the earring, nose ring, lip ring and smooth face, lead me to believe woman.  Next to her(?) is a handsome man dressed in a nice shirt, but he’s wearing a woman’s watch and about 7 gold bangle bracelets.  In front of him is a man wearing a blue and white striped engineer’s hat.  You know the kind of talking about.  H has one that he wears when he’s playing with his Thomas trains.  Not exactly something I’d expect a grown man to wear – and this man chose to wear it for a calendar picture.  What was he thinking?  Next to him is a woman with super short hair and no makeup.  She looks very no fuss, no muss.  The other men in the picture look just fine – like they were at the center, were called over for a photo and smiled. 

What is my point?  I don’t really know.  I guess my point is that if I was a lesbian, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled with how I was represented on this calender – by a woman who I’m really not certain is a woman and a no fuss, no muss woman.  Four of the men look like every day men – 2 white, one african american and one asian – a diverse group of men who look like anyone anywhere.  Even the guy with the jewelry looks good – just a bit much with the jewels.  Engineer guy has some issues, but overall, a good representation of men.  But the women?  Am I supposed to assume that all lesbians have crew cuts and don’t wear makeup or look like a man?  I know that’s not the case.  So I just don’t get it.

Now the one who I can’t tell is a man or a woman is freaking me out.  I can’t stop staring and can’t stop trying to figure out gender.  I guess that’s the whole point. 

I’m afraid to turn the calendar to July just yet.  I’ll have to wait. 

 

 

I Lub You

This week’s Spin Cycle topic is “Saying I Love You.”  See Sprite’s Keeper for more “I Love You” spins.

When I first read this week’s Spin Cycle topic, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to participate.  I’ve already written Our Love Story – about how Blue Eyes and I met and I certainly didn’t want to make you read that mush-mush again.  (But if you must…you can take a peek here.)  I didn’t really have anything else interesting that I wanted to share on the topic, so I decided that I just wouldn’t think about it and wouldn’t participate this week.

On Sunday evening I did the laundry, just as I do each Sunday evening.  You see, H’s daycare provider sends home his blanket each Friday so that I can launder it over the weekend.  Because H is so attached to it, he likes to sleep with both his home blanket and his daycare blanket on the weekends.  We have a bit of trouble getting them away from him for long enough to wash and dry them. 

I should also note here that although H knows that they are blankets and can say both the words “blanket” and “covers”, he calls his blanket “night-night”.  The blanket that he sleeps with at home is “night-night.”  The blanket he naps with at daycare is “Maggie night-night” , because – you guessed it – his daycare provider’s name is Maggie. 

Anyway, on Sunday evening, I finally snuck off to wash the “night-nights” after H got up from nap and was busy playing outside.  He was having a particulary rotten day, at least as far as Blue Eyes and I were concerned.  He was driving us bonkers with his terrible two stuff.  Absolutely bonkers.  He was so bad that we thought we had the wrong kid.  But no, it was H and he was simply rotten.

Once the night-nights were dry, I brought them up to the family room, folded the laundry, and put the clean and folded laundry into the laundry basket.  H saw his night-night and became VERY happy. 

H:  My night-night!  Mommy!  Thank you!  My night-night!

Mommy:  You’re welcome, H.  I’m glad you’re happy.

H:  Daddy!  Look!  My night-night!  It’s hot!  (warm from the dryer)

Daddy:  That’s great, H!

I left H in the family room and turned toward the kitchen where Blue Eyes was standing.  I told him that I was so happy that H was finally happy after such a rotten day. 

Then we heard H say this as he snuggled with his night-night:

“I Lub you, night-night.”

He’s right, of course.  What’s not to love? 

And that’s when I knew that H’s simple statement, “I Lub You, Night-Night” was the perfect spin.

I Lub You, H.

Where Is My Blog Roll?

It was here yesterday, but gone today. 

Who stole it?

 

ETA:  Okay.  I found it.  How in the world it disappeared in the first place, I’ll never know.  I do know that it wasn’t “user error” this time.