tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-377752272024-03-13T23:57:33.024-04:00Woofgang Pug KnitsLife with a houseful of pugs and yarn...can this possibly work?Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.comBlogger262125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-1837418551224892632022-06-09T13:39:00.000-04:002022-06-09T13:39:45.653-04:00If If's Not One Thing, It's Your Father<p>My father was a very smart man, probably the smartest man I have ever known. Quick sense of humor, biting wit.</p><p>I look like him but otherwise I have few of his better qualities and most of his worst. Unfortunately, I have to own the smart mouth, among others.</p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8znGbr_dgIKg66ANfQQ4XOA84a-bBuiGxU8iU4vUactQCc1TpvbiCGsgkSj7wMh3McYgicIKr3MK84GE64yaxm-GL7CvLRk2TZpgMm3FiYnTwJmhBEbvh3iN464c9EBMTzYu9x86pknbr6MKvS6fzfXAg5pRwP4zkonaN1ulpQVJZllXxPw/s960/IMG_4882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8znGbr_dgIKg66ANfQQ4XOA84a-bBuiGxU8iU4vUactQCc1TpvbiCGsgkSj7wMh3McYgicIKr3MK84GE64yaxm-GL7CvLRk2TZpgMm3FiYnTwJmhBEbvh3iN464c9EBMTzYu9x86pknbr6MKvS6fzfXAg5pRwP4zkonaN1ulpQVJZllXxPw/s320/IMG_4882.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p>Daddy was a left-brain guy, analytical, logical, mathematically inclined. He could do mathematical calculations in his mind that I would have to use pencil and paper (pre-calculator, of course1) to do. He had all kinds of little tricks, like rounding up and down and estimating, and bam, bam, shazam he had the number. Me, not so much.</p><p>I'm pretty right-brain. I can write an essay and share my feelings all day. I can talk the paint off a wall and make friends with a tree stump. The stump will end up telling me about the year of the drought that caused that funky ring and the time the tree-borers tried to invade. Maybe even about the pain of the final chain saw. In short, I'm all about the emotions. </p><p>This caused some issues in my childhood when there was schoolwork involved. When I had to retake Algebra I in summer school one year you would have thought that Mars had just crashed into Earth. Apparently I was every kind of dumb if not actually stupid. Turned out that once I got the right teacher, it all made sense to me . (My Algebra teacher was a left-brain too and hopelessly unable to explain to us righters.) I loved Geometry because of the symmetry of the proofs. Okay, I was never going to be a mathematician but I was capable of something more than simple addition and if you needed someone to do long division for you, I was your girl! </p><p>For me, long division was the mathematical version of diagramming a sentence. Does anyone diagram sentences any more? I could definitely use some sentence diagramming as I try to learn Spanish! All those competing verbs!!</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH4cQ0afFN975VrZqo-S2BqWYZRNViYpWXjPyGK9ElYCQpFGdw1NPYTyCtmOnzXL2JMrfWEcmVI1YcNTLtu21s75S4y02Tfrz6wgGmP9bpiW5myLfIyfAbPPqbPxlb_LsmbAvptzEBAJe1pd9WVUbUT40JPQbeFLEWnHvlHyy4E7urKD9i9w/s900/IMG_2804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="411" data-original-width="900" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH4cQ0afFN975VrZqo-S2BqWYZRNViYpWXjPyGK9ElYCQpFGdw1NPYTyCtmOnzXL2JMrfWEcmVI1YcNTLtu21s75S4y02Tfrz6wgGmP9bpiW5myLfIyfAbPPqbPxlb_LsmbAvptzEBAJe1pd9WVUbUT40JPQbeFLEWnHvlHyy4E7urKD9i9w/s320/IMG_2804.JPG" width="320" /></a></p><p>So as I've grown older, and I've now lived more years than he did, I've always regretted that I don't have more of his skills. I often think of him and wish I could tell him about some new invention or situation to get his opinion. </p><p>On the right-brain side, Daddy loved crossword puzzles. No, not the London Times puzzles but the ones in <i>The Washington Post </i>and <i>The New York Times.</i> The Sunday puzzles were his favorites, needless to say. I wish he was here to compete in the <i>Post's</i> Neologism contests or to invent captions for <i>The New Yorker</i>. He would have loved Wordle, especially the versions that involve multiple words. And he loved mysteries, especially the old British locked-room-in-the-stately-house ones by John Dickson Carr and Ngaio Marsh. By the time I was eight, I was a fan too, and I can still lose myself in a Peter Wimsey novel in which the solution to the crime revolves around something as arcane as the incorrect pattern of a bunch of church bells.</p><p>What brings all this up is that I've been searching all my life for a man as smart as my dad. And just recently I figured out that, as Pogo once said, "We have met the enemy and he is us."</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvYPQqNQ1_wiFaaz7DCag260ofkvVumHaJkDTtoMBczjj_3K87qFxU0KRG-3VQKzsgI59bPkkzW393PsQDy56SxI2Y7ELZifcw34-J4PjTvjwJcXq3DmtzN5HPbbJZ-kWPJ5hupdnpmeyhJMCLL_IrBILEAXYHHYABoS3shOojifrGqZPoBQ/s263/IMG_2805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="263" data-original-width="191" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvYPQqNQ1_wiFaaz7DCag260ofkvVumHaJkDTtoMBczjj_3K87qFxU0KRG-3VQKzsgI59bPkkzW393PsQDy56SxI2Y7ELZifcw34-J4PjTvjwJcXq3DmtzN5HPbbJZ-kWPJ5hupdnpmeyhJMCLL_IrBILEAXYHHYABoS3shOojifrGqZPoBQ/s1600/IMG_2805.JPG" width="191" /></a></p><p>I am my father, after all. </p><p>There's nothing I like better than a good Sudoku. My father would have loved Sudoku, and might even have been designing them by now. I'm a word puzzle nut. And knitting a piece of intricate lace, and seeing the pattern emerge from a chart full of unfamiliar symbols is sheer joy. Putting words together in an essay or in a novel involves some mathematical precision too. There's an order for everything. And the geometry of English Paper Piecing!</p><p>My father is alive in me, every day. And I have a little more control over my sarcasm and bitter humor than he did, most days.</p><p>By the way, for those of you wondering about the tinking of the shawl, I'm happy to say that problem is resolved and I'm moving deliberately through Clue 2. Still three clues behind but slow and steady goes the tortoise.</p><p><br /></p>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-43800624337831282532022-06-04T13:58:00.002-04:002022-06-04T14:04:27.620-04:00Responsible or Craven? You Tell Me<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBex_4tHONbJr946m5ij16nN7l6O-4DdWWJgaQvHCjrT1yXhFSQZQA3Sjv_pl-6Sc2USOcOPiyGnSyR4WJzBCR11uvb04Z6vLjAJ6Lh2Yc3mxOVE52PBZbS80jGzFplPbwuNjhbJYnY_BklHiqacv6n_ssga3PkCFlcql2438O-8e-9--ITA/s522/Equality.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="522" data-original-width="522" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBex_4tHONbJr946m5ij16nN7l6O-4DdWWJgaQvHCjrT1yXhFSQZQA3Sjv_pl-6Sc2USOcOPiyGnSyR4WJzBCR11uvb04Z6vLjAJ6Lh2Yc3mxOVE52PBZbS80jGzFplPbwuNjhbJYnY_BklHiqacv6n_ssga3PkCFlcql2438O-8e-9--ITA/s320/Equality.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">At what point does showing respect for others, or for a group of others, become disrespectful to another group? How does one say "I support you, I'm with you, We love you," without saying to someone else, "You people who don't support, love, etc., etc. are not worthy of my respect?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Can one say "I want equality for all" without disrespecting the views of people who believe we are not equal? How do you avoid showing disrespect to people you really don't respect?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The subject of equality among races, ethnicities, sexual orientations, religious beliefs, is very touchy. As an individual, I can put a <b>Black Lives Matters</b> bumper sticker on my car but, because I live in a community with a homeowners association, I can't put a sign in my front yard. That applies to all signs, not to any particular group. It just says you can't show your preferences in your front yard while you're part of this community association.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But if I did put my <b>Black Lives Matters</b> sign up, I'm sure some people in the neighborhood would think less of me because they don't think that black lives matter or because they think that black lives matter is not an adequate statement because really all lives matter. Then the question in my own personal life would be, do I really care what those people think? (And, of course, some of my neighbors are undoubtedly rule followers and they'd be upset because I flouted something in the "official rulebook.")</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf15RxO5gst2pj4CZhpgjllpLT5q5Nmu5WWC97UmpFe8Wgqh6lshqeU1FulH82OxVcPor3B0G9dP8hgePq0c_XZCU0r3jCUdp5pbs-7KUemgO-SJzd4h7OOBrIKb2F9sqQuEPgeQyXAKDxZ96qBFRR1bMed0VHIe5i3bRI9dKqgKwdrzNwmw/s1500/hands.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="551" data-original-width="1500" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf15RxO5gst2pj4CZhpgjllpLT5q5Nmu5WWC97UmpFe8Wgqh6lshqeU1FulH82OxVcPor3B0G9dP8hgePq0c_XZCU0r3jCUdp5pbs-7KUemgO-SJzd4h7OOBrIKb2F9sqQuEPgeQyXAKDxZ96qBFRR1bMed0VHIe5i3bRI9dKqgKwdrzNwmw/w358-h132/hands.jpg" width="358" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>The answer, of course, is that I do care what they think, and I respect their rights to have those thoughts, but I don't intend to let that change my actions. </p><p>So, then back to my car. When I see a car with a bumper sticker that offends or annoys or otherwise harshes my mellow, I don't hit it or bash it or run into it; I simply shake my head and say "Hmmm. Another jerk."</p><p>If I wear a shirt that says <b>PRIDE</b> or <b>EQUALITY </b>or <b>BLACK LIVES MATTERS</b> or<b> NO, JESUS DIDN'T SAY TO DO THAT, YOU IDIOTS,</b> I know what I'm in for when I leave the house. Some people will like it and some won't like it but hopefully no one will shoot me over it.</p><p>But what happens when you belong to a bigger group of people? A business, for instance. The federal government has something called the "Hatch Act" (and don't even get me started on Orrin Hatch!) that prohibits federal employees from participating in any way in the elective process. And that settles that for those people. (Wonder whether that applied to any of the folks in the January 6 attack on Congress? But I digress.)</p><p>But if a business puts up a sign or a banner that supports some members of the business but not all, what happens? If I wear my PRIDE earrings to work, does that represent the company or does that represent me? Or are they just colorful?</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEidvSdVmtohiY0AeTcPnMFDX4E79H0dz_GTsuVT1SPqQ9jBlz6F5xqObld0eUlRxFqAPHf005jP37Xm0Z3XtEM9EpjoWjvipIMzjg-aZ70-zkETAKIN2sbkIA2BjnsbuSUM9YOIcGTBs8_rEjjMH5DHlnZVhzS9YrT3LiC3owFUpBF5otN5oQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEidvSdVmtohiY0AeTcPnMFDX4E79H0dz_GTsuVT1SPqQ9jBlz6F5xqObld0eUlRxFqAPHf005jP37Xm0Z3XtEM9EpjoWjvipIMzjg-aZ70-zkETAKIN2sbkIA2BjnsbuSUM9YOIcGTBs8_rEjjMH5DHlnZVhzS9YrT3LiC3owFUpBF5otN5oQ" width="180" /></a></div><br />What about visitors? Should visitors be insulted if they see my <b>PRIDE</b> earrings? Should I be insulted by their Nazi tattoos? Should a company that wishes to express its support for a group of people, especially a group of people represented in the company, put up a banner and be loud and proud about their support?<p></p><p>What if doing so will insult the members of the community who find that offensive? What if a visitor coming to the business is offended? A neighbor? What if the visitor is coming to the business with an expectation of making a donation and they are so insulted that they take their check back?</p><p>And when does measured response become cravenness? A business that is self-supporting, for-profit, and doing well doesn't have to worry about things like that. But a nonprofit business, dependent on donations from all people including bigots and racists as well as people who share the company's beliefs, don't have that luxury.</p><p>So how do we tell the 1% or 10% or 20% or 30% of the people associated with our company who are gay or trans or any other member of the LBGTQIA+ community that we support them, we accept them, we love them, we stand by them, we hear them, without offending the people who might make us pay for our beliefs? Will wearing a name badge that lists my preferred pronouns (SHE, HER, if you care) offend someone or will it serve as a thought-provoking reminder to think before we speak? </p><p>This is the dilemma many churches are feeling right now. The Episcopal Church took a stand in 2003 when the first (openly) gay bishop was consecrated. That resulted in a schism and many of its member churches left the Church for other denominations. The United Methodist Church is in the middle of this process now, as conservative churches and members choose to disaffiliate rather than embrace policies they find offensive. Feelings are strong on both sides. Some of it has to do with culture, some of it has to do with a strict interpretation of the Bible, and some of it, frankly, has to do with being old and fearing change, and coming from a generation when those things weren't done. Of course, they were done, people were just quieter about it then. </p><p>And because Jesus said that homosexuals are bad. No, wait, that's not right. He didn't say that. Scratch that last sentence. And besides, Jesus was white. No wait, he wasn't. Nor was he Protestant. He wasn't even "Christian." He was Jewish. </p><p>Oh, hell, this is definitely not a question that's going to be resolved today. But I'm ready for it to happen.</p>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-71198525032539150802022-05-30T10:22:00.000-04:002022-05-30T10:22:07.084-04:00The Struggle is Real<p> A little knitting content, for those who follow such things and for those who don't:<span style="text-align: center;">. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0oHoVBPvP3h92BOevFArsKBL97mbnRHGL-wfPbeKnuwI-02-V8V0lrJM-A4isCT0FWIS3q65_4n4GsrnokIDlZw_DpP6jswwBi_6an2jz-RUgKnhNyEnU0KwWR-J9Zp4VVrfd67GH1cIY35qllQuUGWK85Mzcv4IubRroNcSMjUzyRaT_fQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="481" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0oHoVBPvP3h92BOevFArsKBL97mbnRHGL-wfPbeKnuwI-02-V8V0lrJM-A4isCT0FWIS3q65_4n4GsrnokIDlZw_DpP6jswwBi_6an2jz-RUgKnhNyEnU0KwWR-J9Zp4VVrfd67GH1cIY35qllQuUGWK85Mzcv4IubRroNcSMjUzyRaT_fQ=w253-h338" width="253" /></a></p><p><br />Here's one of the (many) things on my needles right now. It's part of Clues 1 and 2 of a Mystery Knitalong Shawl by Romi, and I have to say it's beautiful. I've done several of her designs and she is a master designer, not to mention being a pretty nice person. And I was pretty proud of it and its progress (even though I'm still on Clue 2 and the rest of the knitting world has already finished the total of five clues that comprise this pattern.)</p><p>I say "was" because somehow I put it down wrong and a bunch of stitches fell off and here's what it looks like now:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyuvws5uectRjKM6i8naPBWBRODISN4-18rAOzHfjJLzvFFASN8HwJ-trQjrtOiXAxQgzAi04rUYEOnWsr7PstC60LK7MKlRNpolf58RrhiXvXu3x5OGX_RywRYfJatetdy-gPsLD9cpW8n-mReC3YaymJ1mAkt4gwkwh8KS66s9Lu57MJsQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="481" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyuvws5uectRjKM6i8naPBWBRODISN4-18rAOzHfjJLzvFFASN8HwJ-trQjrtOiXAxQgzAi04rUYEOnWsr7PstC60LK7MKlRNpolf58RrhiXvXu3x5OGX_RywRYfJatetdy-gPsLD9cpW8n-mReC3YaymJ1mAkt4gwkwh8KS66s9Lu57MJsQ=w279-h392" width="279" /></a></div><br />Yes, I dropped something somewhere, somewhere in the middle of a cable and a border and a double yarnover. And, yes, a more skilled knitter than I could probably figure out how to fix all those happenings, but I can't.<p></p><p>Interestingly, Romi teaches a class, and I took it many years ago when she came to Atlanta to teach, about how to fix problems like this but that was many years ago and I have no idea what to do except to tink it.</p><p>TINK means to unKNIT something. Do the math and you'll figure it out.</p><p>Bottom line, I'm unknitting down to the source of the problem, probably about row 1 of Clue 2. And for those knitterati who are wondering, no, I did not have a lifeline placed. I had even pulled out the dental floss to put one in but I couldn't put my hand on a tapestry needle at the moment and so I just breezed ahead like I knew what I was doing.</p><p>The struggle is real.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-40148437572550792172022-05-24T16:28:00.000-04:002022-05-24T16:28:16.444-04:00Random Thoughts in No Particular Order<p>The election official who checked me off the list of registered Paulding County voters today at the Georgia Primary and complained mightily about all this "dadburned technology" that's changing the way we do things probably didn't vote for the same folks I did today. Is there a Luddite party? Or is that redundant in Georgia?</p><p>At my age I'm officially "senior," but while voting at the Paulding Senior Center today, it occurred to me that, until today I didn't know it existed except I knew those white minibuses had to be going somewhere. I'd like to last a few more years before I go there to find something to do or someone to talk to.</p><p>There was one person of color working at the election site today. Why did she get the work station situated next to where some doofus used the wrong kind of tape to tape down an electrical cord, resulting in her tripping and me having to catch her? I don't want to get all conspiracy theory on y'all, but Georgia has some pretty devious ways of making sure that black folks don't vote. Just say'in, that's all.</p><p>The major downfall to spending all day on a virtual call, staring at oneself on a small screen, is the knowledge that I look very different than I want to. Could that possibly be my chins wobbling or is it a flaw in the camera? </p><p>The problem with reading is that it leads to more reading. My friend has been recommending I read "The Thursday Murder Club" forever but I balked at the price to buy it on Kindle. (I have my standards and I never go above $10 for a bunch of zeros and ones.) She was insistent, or should I say, encouraging, and finally convinced me to join a library in a state I never go to (I know, I know) so I could read it. I did and requested either the eBook or the audiobook version. Within a day I had my electronic version. I'm enjoying this book! It's not "War and Peace" or even Margaret Atwood, but it's pretty darn good. Today I said to her that I was starting to think I should invest in the Kindle version to own it. Then just to prove to myself how virtuously frugal I was, I looked it up on Amazon and it was ... $2.99 temporarily. Of course, I bought it immediately and bought the audio version too. Because if it was fun to read, think how good it will be to listen to it. (And, btw, buying both versions books cost me more than my $10 limit.)</p><p>And speaking of reading, yes, I'm one of those people who cheats on books with other books. I always have an audiobook, a Kindle, and a wood-pulp book going at the same time. And a stack of New Yorkers I haven't read yet. At least. Today, it's a police procedural on Audible, TTMC on Kindle, and in paper, it's "Going Back to Bisbee" by Richard Shelton. Being a fan of most things Bisbee, without ever having been there, I should tell you the book by Shelton is heavy on Arizona and light on Bisbee, but probably one of the most beautifully written books I've ever read. And beautifully researched. Which naturally led me to buy one of Shelton's poetry books, "The Last Person To Hear Your Voice." In paperback because when I read poetry I have to hold an actual book. I'm not sure why.</p><p>The next Shelton book will be his memoirs of working with the prison population. And then ... well, who knows?</p><p>Enough deep thoughts for today.</p>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-24384296705492931422022-05-22T10:03:00.004-04:002022-05-22T10:52:24.941-04:00FOMO?<p> Can one person have too much in her life? Too many blessings? Too much to do and not enough time to do it all?</p><p>That's me. It's been five years since I've written here. I've been too busy. </p><p>Doing what? I feel like I haven't accomplished anything!</p><p>And, no, this isn't another COVID screed. Yes, the past few years have been stressful but, in many ways, they haven't impacted me much.</p><p>I still go to work. My precious older daughter is gone. I have lost a husband I loved but, truthfully, he was lost many years ago to Alzheimer's. I've really lost a beloved task, not a companion.</p><p>And I'm still writing...sort of. Still knitting...but not finishing much. English paper piecing? Not in months!</p><p>Yes, travel has been impacted. My beloved job with Stitches events has trickled down to a once-in-a-great-while event. CARF has stopped sending me interesting places. I still do CARF surveys but they're all (so far) virtual. Satisfying, but yet ....</p><p>Last year friend Debra and I flew to Rhinebeck for our "coming out party" from COVID. After all the fuss and worrying and stressing over details (do I even know how to buckle my plane seatbelt after all these years? why isn't there food on the plane? I can't breathe through this mask--I brought the wrong one! can I find my vaccination card?), it was fine. </p><p>Although some venues were stricter than others, and Rhinebeck itself was reduced in size and attendance, it was a wonderful few days. We met old friends, some from many miles and other parts of my life, we ate our favorite Rhinebeck foods old and new (I'm talking to you, Roasted Brussel Sprouts!), even met a few knitting celebrities.</p><p>Then in March of this year, we went to Stitches West. A great show as always, just smaller. I met old friends and made some new ones. I missed some people. Again, Debra and I drove around the SF area and ate and laughed and talked to people and maybe bought some yarn. I didn't walk in the Pacific but I got close enough to be sprayed by waves.</p><p>And family! There's so much to say about family. New babies, grands growing up and marrying and going to school and, and, and. My family is truly my life. There is nothing I like better than snuggling one of my children, from months old to 35.</p><p>My job has been more than I could have expected. I've truly found my passion with the kids of Murphy-Harpst. Every day there is more to be done, less time to do it, and more joy than I could ever have imagined. I actually feel that I'm making an impression on young people who need me. This is my jam, for sure.</p><p>So why do I feel unfulfilled? Like I'm not living up to my potential. Like not getting done all the things that need to be done. Not writing that novel. Not moving on to my life without a job. Not traveling to all the places on my list. Not finishing that quilt top. Not, not, not. </p><p>I'm a mass of negatives in the middle of so many positives. </p><p>Am I fearing, not death, but not finishing everything in my remaining years? Or am I just an ungrateful, whiny cow?</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-39929736488430046052017-01-20T16:43:00.000-05:002017-01-20T16:43:38.611-05:00Well, It Finally Happened!
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
finally lost a friend over the election. The first that I know of. The first to
tell me I'm dead to him. In person and not on social media. And I can't even
blame him--it was I who lost my temper and said things that shouldn't be said.
(You know how emotional we females can get--I blame it all on menopause and
drinking too many Diet Pepsis .)</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And I'm
the one who said I would respect each person's individual vote. After all, we
all have our own issues, prejudices, and hot buttons. And they drive our votes.
As for me, I'm a card-carrying bleeding-heart liberal. I don't mind paying more
taxes so others can get the services they need, even if they don't always deserve
them. I'll fight to the death to have a competent Secretary of Education of our
public schools so the children of the trump voters can have a better education.
</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But it's
tough. My friend called me a poor sport. Like I just lost at marbles. Actually,
where important things like the Washington Redskins are concerned, I admit I'm
a pretty poor sport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, with lots of
practice, over the years I've honed my ability to pretend I'm okay with the
Dallas Cowboys claiming they are "America's Team" while the Redskins
stay home again from the Big Game.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But I
digress. I tried to explain that, more important than being a good sport, I have
real concerns about the competence and experience of trump and his cabinet
members.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He waved that off as having
less importance than that the Republican party had vanquished Hillary and
Obama. Oh, good. The black guy and the woman are gone.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He's
also a bottom-line guy who hates the idea that a business, like the one we work
for, would be forced to pay for employees to have basic healthcare due to the
Affordable Care Act. Or the idea that the federal government would force its
opinion or any type of regimen on anyone. God knows we wouldn't want anyone
telling us we had to be a Christian or a heterosexual or eschew birth control
or guard ourselves from grizzlies in our public schools.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But I'm pleading temporary
insanity. When he told me that (a) there is no evidence that Congress wants to
repeal healthcare coverage for under-26's or for those with preexisting
conditions and (b) there is no evidence that Russia was involved in the recent
debacle, I felt my precarious hold on mental health starting to fail. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked where he was getting his news. When he
told me "that's Hillary stuff," I heard a snapping sound from inside
my head. Something vital had broken loose.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When our
coworker, sitting with us, naively asked what Congress intended to replace the
ACA with, since obviously so many people needed it, he told her not to worry
about it, that Congress would handle it. At this point, I flew over the edge of
the cuckoo's nest.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This was
not going to work. I had gone into a gunfight armed with a spitball. And it
didn't end well. The top of my head blew off and blood and brains spewed out.
Metaphorically speaking. When he told me I was dead to him, I think I remember
telling him to send it to me in a 140-character Tweet so I'd know it was
official.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
important thing here is that it was my fault. I didn't set out to lose a friend
I've worked with for 15 years. I had no intention of making an enemy out of a
coworker that I work with daily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
friends, long-time or new, are nothing to scoff at. I value my friends. I take
full blame for what happened.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But the
more I think about it, we really weren't friends. We were coworkers who
disagreed violently but politely on most aspects of daily life and culture. We
were generally cordial as long as we stuck to topics with no possible religious
or political significance. Pictures of cute puppies and grumpy kittycats were
possible but only if none of the puppies was sitting too close to another puppy
of the same sex. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My
friends and I don't always agree on everything but we agree on the important
things--the value of other people, the importance of the environment, the need
to be able to trust those to whom we've entrusted the leadership of our
country. So I guess he and I weren't really friends. Just work
acquaintances.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I guess that's over.</span></div>
Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-81663510700806350842017-01-12T11:35:00.000-05:002017-01-12T11:35:02.537-05:00I'm Back--and it took This Guy to get me back
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">To my conservative friend(s):</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Someone
commented to me the other day that I seem to be "really bothered" by
This Guy. And I answered that I was "worried," not bothered. That
wasn't the truth.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I'm not
"bothered" by him. He is who he is. He has changed his public persona
over the years, has claimed a multitude of beliefs and positions, and has been
a chameleon depending on who he needed to be, who he was with, what he thought
someone wanted to hear. Like the old joke about the snake, we knew he was a
snake when we picked him up. The fact is, it's not his fault that he's in a job
that he's uniquely unqualified for. It's the fault of the American voters.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I'm not
even bothered by the so-called deplorables (what a crappy word to call
someone!), those voters who are uneducated or poorly educated, underemployed or
unemployed, who have no hope for their present or future, who are racists or
misogynists, or who are still fighting in bars rather than engaging in debates.
Nope, I'm bothered by voters like you.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I know you
to be honorable. You're a good person, a patriot, a loyal employee, a loving
husband and father. You are someone I've spent hours with, debating<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>history, football, and politics, always with
the underlying idea that, although we fundamentally disagree on many aspects of
today's culture, we share basic positions that we both hold dear: love of
country, love of family, love of work, respect for the foundations of our
country and those who seek to keep us safe, a complex spiritual life, and
concern for those among us who have less than we do, either materially,
emotionally, or health-wise.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I'm
bothered that you have endorsed This Guy with your vote. We've all met people
like him. He's the boss who pinched my butt and tried to touch my breasts in
the office (when I was 17 and in my first job), waving a soggy cigar when I
pulled away. He's the guy who brags about how much he does for others but you
have to dun for the entry fee for the charity golf tournament. He's the guy who
stiffs the waitstaff because of some imaginary slight in the service. The guy
who sneers behind your back that your (first) wife isn't as hot as his (third
or fourth) wife, that your kid went into the military instead of a fancy
university because the military is for "losers," that he's too smart
to pay taxes when you just made your quarterly payment, that he's too smart to
believe in God when you're seeking prayers for your sick child. He's the guy
you don't let hold your toddler daughter. Ever. The business owner who
overlooks your years of service to give the job you've earned to his nephew who
has no experience. The guy who makes rude jokes at others' expense and doesn't
understand why his peers aren't laughing.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So, tell
me. Would you hire This Guy? Would you ask him to join you and your wife for
dinner? Have a drink with him in the bar? Introduce him to your daughter? Play
poker with him? Ask him to mentor your son? Nominate him for an office in your
professional organization? Suggest him to lead an important fundraising drive?
Ask him to babysit your precious grandchild or dog for a weekend, a day, an
hour? </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If the
answers are no, he's not fit to be the leader of one of the leaders of the free
world. We need a leader with experience, a willingness to learn the
complexities of the world we live in, and an ability to work with others.
(Harry Truman did it with little or no experience in national politics, but he
was a selfless guy with a deep love of his country and a willingness to listen
to a bi-partisan group of advisors.) Someone who will be honest with the
American people (we all know those coal-country jobs aren't coming back--they
don't exist any more and the jobs that do exist require a different set of
educational and experiential qualifications--we need to be concentrating on education,
not standing around waiting for a miracle). Someone who engenders respect, and
maybe trust, from our allies and enemies alike. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone who can't be bought or influenced.
Someone who puts the country's needs ahead of his own. <strong>This Guy isn't it.</strong> I'm
not certain the other candidate was the best the Democrats could have come up
with either, but at least I'm not worried she would get us blown up by North
Korea because of an ego trip.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Finally,
my friend said, "hey, we've survived worse than this." Really? Is
that now the qualification for president, that he's not the worst? Seriously?</span></div>
Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-26717526951397922112014-02-13T15:00:00.000-05:002014-02-13T15:00:22.436-05:00Pax? Really?Who the heck names a snow event Pax? Note that I'm loathe to call Pax a "snowstorm" since even in the hinterlands of Chez Pug 3-4" over three days isn't exactly a blizzard. Yet, here I am, trapped at home waiting for the streets to be clear enough to go to work. Ice, you see, and even with our fine governator's admittedly better efforts, the highways are still largely impassable.<br />
<br />
Also note that the Pax namers, The Weather Channel, also called the last snow/ice event, the one I call Clusterstuck, Leon. I don't know which one is dumber, Pax or Leon.<br />
<br />
Oh, well, what do you do when you're at home and shamelessly avoiding all the productive things you could do, like housework? You knit and read and watch movies on Amazon Prime. Sometimes all at once. And in between you go on Facebook to see how your friends and relatives are managing their own personal and weather crises.<br />
<br />
And, of course, you surf Ravelry. And you find a new Total Time Suck, Goodreads.<br />
<br />
In between, you log into work and actually complete some items on the "to do" list, but don't tell the bosses. They prefer to think you're squandering valuable work opportunities and who are we to disabuse them of this fantasy?<br />
<br />
Once in awhile, you even complete something. So, in knitting, one project off the needles: Cameo.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fJQtuuIKY38/Uv0h1NU_UII/AAAAAAAABtc/vMpjNSIsXe8/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fJQtuuIKY38/Uv0h1NU_UII/AAAAAAAABtc/vMpjNSIsXe8/s1600/image.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<br />Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-60467927340646013062014-02-01T21:18:00.000-05:002014-02-01T21:18:05.844-05:00What's On The Needles?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bZdCN_HSAhc/Uu2Cv_iXCVI/AAAAAAAABm8/jOAaluaL-DQ/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bZdCN_HSAhc/Uu2Cv_iXCVI/AAAAAAAABm8/jOAaluaL-DQ/s1600/image.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyone who know me knows that I am incapable of knitting on one project at a time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I always have several things going at once, probably accounting for the fact that it takes me forever to complete a project. This really makes sense if you think about it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My knitting projects are specifically for certain places and situations:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First, I always have a relatively complex project, lace or something that requires close attention to a chart or something filled with seemingly (but not really) random short rows. This is for times that I'm not too tired, completely alone, and have both patience and no other distractions.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then there's the project that is large and/or just complicated enough that I have to think about it. Maybe a sweater with complex shaping or stitch patterns or cables or some such. Or it has too many balls of yarn hanging off it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, there's mindless knitting. The shawl above, <i>Cameo</i> by Paulina Popiolek. It's miles of garter stitch in two yarns from my stash, some Miss Babs sock yarn in Frogbelly and some turquoise Araucania fingering. Ellen made this shawl (with a lot more imagination, I might say) and I knew I had to make it. It would be my sitting in the snow that some people in Atlanta are currently calling<span style="color: red;"> "Clusterstuck,"</span> or watching TV with a dog or two on my lap.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Socks, of course, fall into this category, in the subcategory Purse Knitting. I usually have a sock in my purse for line waiting and always at least one in the car for red lights.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but that's for another day.</span><br />
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<br />Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-51403215190414649732014-01-30T19:26:00.000-05:002014-01-30T19:26:18.319-05:00Wow...a Year?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If asked, and I have been but chose to ignore the questions, I'd have estimated my last post here was a few months ago, October maybe. A year is sort of shocking. But that's about the time a wheel or two fell off the bus here at Chez Pug--personally and definitely technologically. Basically it's been a tough year but no tougher than anyone else's, so no excuses.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hope the technology is a little more under control, and the rest of it is what it will be. Anyway, here I am again. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, <span style="color: red;"><b>Snow-mageddon 2014</b></span>. What we would have called in the north "a light dusting" has thus far closed down Atlanta for two and a half days. Before I moved here in 2001 I might have chuckled. Now I know this crap is no joke! This city really isn't prepared for any weather at all. Interesting in a city whose news weather branch is called "Severe Weather Center." Seriously, most of us wake up to Channel 2's intrepid weather woman, Karen Minton, saying, "Here in Atlanta the weather is beautiful, 75 degrees and clear. Stay tuned to Severe Weather Center for updates." Really?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Love ya, Karen, but seriously? But that jacket you were wearing this morning? Killer! And that's apparently all that matters, because the governor and mayor don't listen to you anyway. Just a pretty blonde woman with great clothes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, this week "weather" was predicted. "Winter weather," to be exact. All the local and national outlets said it was coming and Severe Weather Center said it was coming at 1 pm. About noon flakes started to fall, delicately and without malice at all. Beautiful. No problem. At work we'd planned for such an eventuality and we were as ready as we could be. Some of my co-workers went home. Others, like myself, gave them time to get off the roads and then left later. 5 pm in my case. Snow count? About an inch or less.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hours later I was sitting about three miles from the office (only 39 to go!) and I checked my traffic app. Yes, I have a traffic app, put out by the same Severe Weather Center TV station. It's a fabulous app--a lovely graphic map with little camera icons that show you where all the traffic cameras are along the route home, and a glowing blue bubble that represented where my car was at the moment (are you kidding me??) and little accident icons that showed trouble spots. The route is also color-coded--green for "no problem," yellow for "whoa, slow down a little, honey, there's something up ahead," and red for "go back, don't even think about it."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Red everywhere. Shit!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VbcwTFKVVY0/UurMaZ1PMeI/AAAAAAAABl0/iNa7kA3MLOA/s1600/I-75.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VbcwTFKVVY0/UurMaZ1PMeI/AAAAAAAABl0/iNa7kA3MLOA/s1600/I-75.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This picture was taken when we still thought it was an anomaly that would be cleared up soon. At this point, I still thought I might get home that night. Not so much.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By midnight the traffic was almost completely stopped. Oh, every so often we moved ahead by a car length. I think that was just the Goddesses teasing us. That movement made me think we were making progress. But every time Mr. Pug called, getting increasingly frantic and angry--not at me, but at Georgia's Governator and the Mayor of Atlanta for not having salted and cindered the roads in a timely fashion--I checked my odometer, and my progress could be measured in tenths of a mile. About 3 am, I pulled over to the side of the road, along with 10 or 15% of my fellow travelers, and tried to sleep. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Lesson Learned</b>: It's almost impossible to sleep with other cars slipping on the icy roads and skimming past your vehicle space with spinning tires and blowing horns. Okay, that was not going to work.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By 4 am I had extracted myself from my shoulder spot and inched far enough forward to see an upcoming exit where I knew there was a fast food joint. I tried to exit but it was completely clogged with broken down cars. Damn! The next exit was a little more passable and I slunk past the abandoned cars on the ramp and into a McDonald's. Good thing because my bladder was about to burst! (I cannot tell you how many men and women I saw standing and squatting by the side of I-75, relieving themselves. I swear if I hadn't been wearing jeans, it might have been an option. I also saw the guys in the car in front of me pour what was left from a carton of orange juice out onto the pavement. Then I saw it re-emptied again a minute or two later. Well, you gotta do what you gotta do.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Lesson Learned:</b> Just because the sign says "Open 24 Hours" doesn't mean it is. Everything, including the shopping center across the street, assuming I could have gotten across the street, was completely clogged with cars. I wedged mine into an illegal spot in the McDonald's lot, locked the door, crossed my legs tightly, and tried to sleep. First I woke Mr. Pug one last time to tell him I was safe and hear more diatribes against Governor Dumbass. Around 6, I fell asleep. At 6:30, the parking lot around me began to wake up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, to make a hideously long story even longer, I finally strolled into Chez Pug at 2:30 pm the day after I left the office. And here's what I got from the experience:</span><br />
<br />
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thank Dog for knitting. I knit off and on the whole time.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thank Dog twice for mindless knitting projects. Mine had lots of yarn and garter stitch. Doesn't get any more mindless than that. (Cameo Shawl if you're interested.)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The snow around the parked cars in the McD's lot was splotched with lots of yellow. Good thing I slept through all of it.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My night was pretty tame compared to others. My friend Sandy's car ran off the road and she was (luckily) rescued by a friend of her sister's. Otherwise her story could have been much uglier.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the 24 hour McDonald's opens, at 7:30 am, the only person there will be the manager who mostly doesn't speak English. He does know how to make coffee and is happy to sell it for a dollar a cup. plus tax for the governor.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The bathroom will be mostly clean but at that point, who really cares?</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No other food will be available until a worker shows up an hour later and finally grasps that what the manager is saying is "sausage, please cook the sausage."</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Apparently when they hired him for his facility with languages, they didn't take into account the fact that someone who speaks Croatian fluently may not be able to communicate with a largely Hispanic staff or customers.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But Croatians can apparently make great coffee.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oatmeal doesn't require food, just hot water. I set off a trend by mentioning that to the manager and he fixed me a cup.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hundreds of people who slept in their cars all along the block will be happy to pay a dollar a cup. Most will be friendly and just happy not to be on I-75.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The road will still not be clear when you're ready to go home, which is right after drinking your coffee and eating your oatmeal.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which is fine because the guy who's got you blocked in with his car isn't in a hurry to leave anyway.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you get out, around 10 am (more knitting with some news and audiobook listening thrown in), traffic won't be able to get up the hill. It will be full of more 18-wheelers as if we haven't seen enough in the last 12 hours.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All the gas stations will be simultaneously raising their prices and running out of gas.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The parking lot across the street will have one tiny space left, just big enough for your car. The guy in the car next to you will get out of his car to greet you, saying "Welcome! You must be our new neighbor!"</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He'll fill you in on the neighborhood gossip: the 24 hour cafe is closed (of course!), the Publix is open but filled with people sheltering in place (big shoutout to Publix!), the Starbucks is open but their restroom is suspiciously "out of order." And I bet their coffee was more than a dollar.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Apparently the big convention in town this week is the National Egg and Poultry show. (Not a joke! You cannot make this stuff up!) This explains the large truck parked about three cars away with hundreds of empty chicken boxes in the back. I don't want to know what happened to the chickens.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">People are mostly very decent. I did not meet one person who wasn't gracious and friendly and we all chuckled about how we'll be telling these stories for years. No one called the Governator Dumbass, with the possible exception of me.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We were about a mile from the Governator's mansion. I'm betting there was no one sheltering in place in his house that night. Again, thanks to all the businesses who let folks hang out for the night.</span></li>
</ol>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Postscript</b>: When I finally got to my subdivision, there were cars parked all along the entrance. There were also several people shoveling the street. I stopped to thank them and realized their leader was Mr. Pug. One of the young guys told me that Mr. Pug told them his wife was on her way home and he wanted her to be able to get up and down the hills in the subdivision. They all jumped in to help.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Lesson learned</b>: Gotta love people! They're pretty okay. And Mr. Pug's no slouch either.</span></div>
Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-80107904300346025552013-01-17T17:22:00.000-05:002013-01-17T17:22:17.452-05:00Finally -- a Finished Object!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KWN_PF3HBL0/UPh1g6kJStI/AAAAAAAABXU/MpHYMsZEdJE/s1600/regia.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" jea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KWN_PF3HBL0/UPh1g6kJStI/AAAAAAAABXU/MpHYMsZEdJE/s320/regia.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Actually, two finished objects. Here's the first pair, <em>Seaweed Socks</em> from a pattern by Wendy Johnson. This pair came off the needles last Friday, after a mere two years in the making. (One of my lovely friends gave me this yarn on the occasion of my wedding--only a true friend would know to give sock yarn as a wedding gift!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Love this sock even though I'm a little iffy about the heel. Actually, it's probably the gusset and heel you've been knitting ever since you learned how to knit socks--it's that slip one, knit one that makes a padded back-of-the-heel. This sock is knit toe up but it's done in much the same way, after you knit a sort of Fleegle-ish gusset increase on the bottom of the sock.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The reason I stopped doing this heel is that most of my shoes don't want a big, padded heel in the back--it makes them uncomfortable. I took a chance on this one because I love, love, love everything Wendy Johnson does and I trust her.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qjZFiSWoQXQ/UPh0nvZnqLI/AAAAAAAABXA/1-ZVNgLFgyA/s1600/opal.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" jea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qjZFiSWoQXQ/UPh0nvZnqLI/AAAAAAAABXA/1-ZVNgLFgyA/s320/opal.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This pair of Opal socks, finished just this morning, are my old familiar, Ann Budd-ish socks with a short row heel (also toe up, of course). There's nothing better than Opal, ever, and if I had another skein of Opal at hand, I'd cast on today. Just the best all-around sock yarn ever!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Oh, who am I kidding? There's got to be more Opal in the stash somewhere--I just have to dig around and find it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, here's a hint of <strong>What's On The Needles:</strong> I started these on Saturday after finishing the Regia socks. It's a toe-up pattern called Socks on a Plane, with one cable going up the side of each foot. The yarn is Mini Mochi from my stash. Fabulous colors, and I do love my MM socks. The original MM yarn was more splitty and more fragile (it's a single) but the newly formulated yarn is more durable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And, of course, it's got a weird heel variation, too--somewhere in between the Fleegle heel and a short row heel. I don't like it at all but I'm trying to give it a chance.</span>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-23826847439502486412013-01-01T17:13:00.000-05:002013-01-01T17:13:05.769-05:00Knitting Forward<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, I've been knitting since I was in elementary school, blogging since about 2004, and on Ravelry since 2007. That means I should know better, because my track record of being able to predict what I'll actually knit in a given year isn't that great. I get distracted easily.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But every year I prognosticate about the coming year so it's in the nature of a tradition at this point.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So let's make it easier this year:</span><br />
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<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will start the year promising to finish a bunch of UFO's but will end the year with more than I started with.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll have really good intentions about organizing my stash but will end the year in the same state of chaos that exists right now. Maybe worse.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ditto my intentions to knit strictly from stash. Let's face it--I'm like a crow with yarn. If it's pretty, I'll dive on it from a mile in the sky to grab it. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Six months after I dive on something pretty, I'll look at it in wonderment and try to remember what I thought I was going to do with it.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'd like to make Christmas gifts and ornaments all year but... Well, do I even need to say I probably won't?</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We're not even going to talk about my abysmal record of updating this puppy. Doesn't seem that likely, does it?</span></li>
</ul>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On a positive note, I'm trying really hard to finish <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"><b>Fifty Shades of Red </b></span>within the next two weeks. I'm down to four half blocks, then need to connect the shoulders, and then knit several miles of I-cord. Sounds do-able, right?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After that, I'll either get back to Smitten (yuk!) or do the crab stitch edging on the patchwork jacket. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'd like to knit Canyonlands as a Rav KAL. Dream in Color Smooshy.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'd like to do a Goddess Knits shawl as a KAL.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'd like to knit one of the sweaters I have yarn set aside for--Three Sisters or Carter Cardigan or Simona. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is that too much planning? Or not enough?</span></div>
Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-48137704938289547292012-12-31T20:11:00.001-05:002012-12-31T20:11:41.517-05:002012: The Garter Stitch Year<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will this year not end? I feel like I've been waiting forever, and not that patiently, and this frickin' year will NOT die!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So far it's been December for about 73 days. This day alone has lasted at least 37 hours and it's barely 7 pm. I've been watching bowl games forever and we seem to be no closer to the national championship than we were at Thanksgiving.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In knitting terms, it's been a <b><span style="color: #660000;">Very Garter Stitch Year.</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Endless rows of the knit stitch. No purls, no yarnovers, not even a nupp to liven things up. Every so often a short row to take you backwards and make you start over, back at the beginning.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ttRs8Ca1APw/UOI1e-PU8FI/AAAAAAAABV4/vGShBdtx-y4/s1600/coloraffection.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ttRs8Ca1APw/UOI1e-PU8FI/AAAAAAAABV4/vGShBdtx-y4/s320/coloraffection.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2012 has been the world's largest Color Affection shawl.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And lest you think I'm speaking metaphorically, well, I am. But in a literal sense, everything I've knit lately has been garter stitch.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The aforementioned Color Affection. Garter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stripe Study. Garter.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KrYmvDsniKQ/UOI1qNdo_hI/AAAAAAAABWA/JFgb8g8fkgY/s1600/stripestudy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KrYmvDsniKQ/UOI1qNdo_hI/AAAAAAAABWA/JFgb8g8fkgY/s320/stripestudy.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Brooks Farm <span style="color: #660000;"><b>Fifty Shades of Red</b></span> vest. Modular garter. Well, you saw that the other day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And, of course, the famous neverending Sock Yarn Blankie. Modular garter. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My last almost-finished project? </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The famous patchwork sweater that might actually be completed in 2013. Modular garter.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GG5LDU5HZj8/UOI2HZHn4RI/AAAAAAAABWQ/YjRGzZJWksY/s1600/patchwork+jacket.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GG5LDU5HZj8/UOI2HZHn4RI/AAAAAAAABWQ/YjRGzZJWksY/s320/patchwork+jacket.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My last frogged never-to-be-finished project? The Jane Slicer-Smith vest that I will....I WILL....reknit in 2013 or possibly 2014 or beyond. Modular garter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am sensing a rut. And that I'm in it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, crap!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To totally change the subject and divert your attention from how pitiful my life is, check this out. Grandson KC can SO dunk! He obviously has MY vertical leap!</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ED_rCF0dqBc/UOI2QgBX6RI/AAAAAAAABWY/ovU5KkdqmHA/s1600/KC.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ED_rCF0dqBc/UOI2QgBX6RI/AAAAAAAABWY/ovU5KkdqmHA/s320/KC.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-14685167659897149362012-12-28T12:29:00.000-05:002012-12-28T12:29:12.401-05:00Fifty Shades of Red<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The year is finally, finally, finally grinding to a close. Is it just me, or has this year actually been kind of crappy? I know I shouldn't complain, but 2012's been a tough one. Not just for me, but for friends and family too. (Frankly, I blame the election. I think all that concentrated negativity sucked every bit of good spirit out of the year.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm looking for 2013 to be an easier, softer year. But in the meantime, we knit.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I9g03V0kiMk/UN2y3yqVutI/AAAAAAAABVo/KhQ2T9CC9kc/s1600/50+shades.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I9g03V0kiMk/UN2y3yqVutI/AAAAAAAABVo/KhQ2T9CC9kc/s400/50+shades.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span id="goog_1402738954"></span><span id="goog_1402738955"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm within shouting distance of the final mitered diamonds of the Acero Diamond Vest, or, as I've been calling it, <span style="color: #660000;"><strong>Fifty Shades of Red.</strong></span> Literally there are fewer than ten of the big guys to go. Maybe 8 big ones and five or six half-squares. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">(Yes, Debra, I know you've told me it's not really red--it's rust. But some of it really <span style="color: #660000;"><strong>is</strong></span> red and rust is really just red that's lost its way, so I'm sticking with red.")</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm at that point where I'm halfway between "OMG, it's almost over, woohoo!" and "OMG, what will I do when it's done?" I have truly loved doing all those squares, unlike other modular projects I've worked on, and I think the difference is changing the yarn every square and feeling like each one is totally different from the one that went before. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">To clarify, I love modular knitting. I think I could restrict my knitting to modular knitting only and be pretty happy. I love the concept and am always looking for new modular projects. But some are more tedious than others. For instance, I've been working for five or six years on the Tess Diamond Vest and I feel weak just thinking about it--I think it's because every diamond is the same and because I've added another whole column of diamonds to make it a little larger and that makes me nervous. I'm scared to death that I'll finish it and it'll be HUGE.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, once the squares are done, then there are two tiny places to sew--the pointy ends of the shoulder fronts get sewn into the valley ends of the shoulder backs. Then the endless I-Cord begins, around the armholes and then around the entire perimeter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And, since I'm a big girl, the perimeter is substantial. That's a lot of I-Cord. Luckily, the I-Cord is purple (see that teensy hint of purple in the lower right diamond above, and the top diamond? That's the purple!). Then to select a button (Cast On Cottage, here I come), and I'm done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lest this sound more optimistic than it really is, let us remember that the other modular sweater still hanging out, the Patchwork Sweater in Noro, only got sewn together this year (by Debra, thank you!) and still doesn't have its crab stitch edging. It has yarn, it has a button, all it doesn't have is ... me to finish it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did I say this is Brooks Farm Acero? And that I'm already thinking of how to get more Brooks Farm Acero? Love, love, love this yarn!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, and I bet you already knew this, yes, the fawn fur butt at the top of the picture IS a pug butt. Lucy, in this case. She never even moved when I laid the knitting across her rear end and snapped the picture.</span><br />
<br />Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-78388625144933477632012-12-24T13:50:00.002-05:002012-12-24T13:50:45.668-05:00The Pack<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm a big NPR-listener, and one of my favorite segment is "This I Believe." I love hearing about other people's beliefs, and really about other people in general. I'm always asking some stranger why he loves his job or what got her into her career or what kind of pet they prefer. In some worlds, this is considered being a nosey parker or just plain intrusive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But not on NPR--there we can wallow in other people's "stuff" and feel perfectly normal.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, on this particular episode, a youngish woman is relating a discussion she had with her two sons. One of the boys opines that he's very grateful to be a mammal. Some of the advantages he cites were that we have hair (well, I used to anyway!), that we can have babies, and that we're warm-blooded. The other, younger, son noted the oh-so-true fact that the really hardy species, having survived from dinosaur times, was reptiles. Plus they had scales, apparently a very cool thing to have. The older son said, "well, if you were a snake, you wouldn't be here with us, because most of those moms leave as soon as the egg breaks, but since you're a mammal you're here with your pack!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wow! The pack makes all the difference, doesn't it? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It made me think of my pack. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Really, I, like most mammals have more than one pack. My cubs have formed their own packs, and my siblings and my cousin live far away with their new packs. But my knitting pack is here with me every day--steady and reliable.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Even when I was a solitary knitter, meaning that I didn't have even one friend who knitted, I had a knitting pack. I had the Knitlist and the Sockknitters List and the Ample Knitters List and all those folks were my pack. Maggie Righetti was in my pack, maybe even the Leader of the Pack, though she was (and remains) blissfully unaware of my existence. My pack and I chatted back and forth about what was important in our lives--making knots with pieces of yarn--and I was part of a companionable community. Every so often I'd sneak out of town to attend a pack meeting run by TKGA or Knitter's Magazine. I still have that pack, and I meet with them online or at Stitches events--people I know only a little but we have something important in common.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But my everyday pack today is a group of knitting women--no more than five or six usually. Even though we met through knitting, our relationship has grown to be much more inclusive. We knit, eat, travel, eat some more, shop for yarn, and generally hang out. We laugh a lot and occasionally there are tears. When things get tough in my life, either because of some real or imagined situation, they're there for me. They have walked me through everything from a dropped stitch to a family crisis. Occasionally, I return the favor. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Together we do what Elizabeth Zimmerman advised: we keep on knitting, through all situations, with confidence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Thanks, Pack! I love each and every one of you. </span><br />
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Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-29046696715561786682012-12-17T16:52:00.005-05:002012-12-17T16:54:05.674-05:00When Bad Inflatables Happen to Good People<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0RLeb5FiSbk/UM-T93B1XsI/AAAAAAAABVY/6X_g9LSHayg/s1600/IMG00038-20121217-1300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="298" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0RLeb5FiSbk/UM-T93B1XsI/AAAAAAAABVY/6X_g9LSHayg/s400/IMG00038-20121217-1300.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seen on my way to lunch today, and once it was seen, I couldn't unsee it! Oh, my!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(And, yes, this is one house, and not a big one.)</span>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-56676116652051393892012-12-02T18:50:00.000-05:002012-12-02T18:50:23.260-05:00Okay, This is a Problem....<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I opened a drawer today...don't even ask why...and found some yarn and a UFO I couldn't identify.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Under it was...another UFO. That one I can figure out but have no idea when I started it or put it down. And certainly not why I would have stuffed it into that drawer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Behind it, you guessed it, one more UFO. That one I do remember, thank goodness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I searched the entire desk they were hiding in, but no more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, Houston, we have a problem.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I have so many started-but-not-finished projects, there's obviously an issue.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Am I losing my mind, and my memory, or is this just the result of my addled ADHD brain starting too many projects?</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Oy2OfNXPl10/ULvonu-EBjI/AAAAAAAABU8/ayIBOrxPbFA/s1600/mystery+shawl.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Oy2OfNXPl10/ULvonu-EBjI/AAAAAAAABU8/ayIBOrxPbFA/s320/mystery+shawl.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">UFO #1: it's obviously a shawl, with a cable and lace. (Needless to say, no pattern with it.) The yarn is either heavy fingering or light sport. I'm leaning toward the first. It's got one of my KP Harmony needles in it--no wonder I couldn't find my size 8! Can't identify the yarn or the pattern. I probably put it down because I really am not that fond of heavier shawls and this feels heavy.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sr3g1nrlj44/ULvo2HYUMRI/AAAAAAAABVE/Wz0P3p9kWIg/s1600/TAAT+Socks.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sr3g1nrlj44/ULvo2HYUMRI/AAAAAAAABVE/Wz0P3p9kWIg/s320/TAAT+Socks.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">UFO #2: toe-up socks two at a time. I don't remember starting them but I do have a habit of starting socks and putting them down. And the whole TAAT thing is so fiddly I'm pretty sure I just threw them down in disgust.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vjb--7fSCwQ/ULvom01gfkI/AAAAAAAABU0/5rja9Z0bA78/s1600/mitts.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vjb--7fSCwQ/ULvom01gfkI/AAAAAAAABU0/5rja9Z0bA78/s320/mitts.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">UFO #3: fingerless mitts, one finished, one not. I do remember these. Both my daughters wanted mitts one year but in black. Really? Black? I gave it the Old College Try, but all that black on size 1's was too much for this Old Blind Mouse.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, here's the question: how many more of these nightmares are hiding from me?</span><br />
<br />Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-21714826274504272412012-05-04T10:23:00.001-04:002012-05-04T10:23:05.970-04:00Smooth(ie) Sailing<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, I'm not claming there's a direct connection with my grousing about the product, but McDonald's has replaced their Apple Cinnamon Walnut Oatmeal with a variety containing little bits of dried banana and (fresh) blueberries. Somehow, the idea of starting my day by picking pieces of dehydrated banana out of my teeth doesn't have the appeal of the apple version. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rats! I need to find another solution for the <strong>Most Important Meal of the Day</strong>. This morning I was running late and had to drive Mr. Pug to pick up his car from the repair shop. I delved deep into the freezer looking for a solution and found</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Looks tasty, right? It's a mixture of frozen yogurt beads* and fruit. You add fresh juice (in my case, orange) and shake vigorously to make your take-in-the-car breakfast.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here are ten things you need to know about drinking a Dole Yogurt Smoothie Shaker :</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's not smooth. It should be called a Dole Yogurt <strong><span style="color: red;">Lumpy</span></strong> Shaker . The consistency is large frozen lump surrounded by ice cold liquid, like a chunky frozen slurpee with seeds.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It tastes pretty good.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you try to drink it, it will shoot out of the top of the container like Mount Vesuvius raining lava on Pompei (only cold), and you will look like Barney, covered in purple goop. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">From head to toe.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once it covers your glasses with blueberry goodness, <strong>and it will</strong>, it will have to be coaxed off with professional quality opthalmic solution.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Until it's coaxed off, your vision will be obstructed. You will narrowly miss hitting someone on that same Bobo Road where you got into trouble last week.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You will be late to work because you have to go home and change your clothes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, all your clothes--blouse, bra, slacks, jewelry, glasses. I didn't find any blueberry yogurt on my underwear, but I might not have looked hard enough.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Yes, your earrings too. And your hair.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">You'll still be hungry, even after slugging down the remainder over the sink in your kitchen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Consider yourself warned.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">*I know, I know. I don't know what a "yogurt bead" is either. Those are not words that belong together.</span>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-12988753814284148762012-04-26T11:00:00.002-04:002012-04-26T17:59:42.186-04:00The Road Rage Incident You DIDN'T See on YouTube<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We have a lot of road rage here in Georgia.The other day, the news said, "Carjacker Surprised by Grandma." A carjacker had tried to take a woman's SUV and she'd pulled her own pistol out and shot him. The video showed a woman of uncertain age, with 3" fingernails and a 60's beehive, who looked like she'd just climbed off her pole at the Pink Pony. If she was a grandma, she probably achieved that goal at age 22.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is my own story of road rage, which, thankfully, didn't make the news.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some of you know that I live in an area called Backwoods County, Georgia. For those of you old enough to know what this means, I've changed the names to protect the guilty. Our county philosophy is "We Ain't Atlanta." Our county motto, in raised letters around our county seal, is "Welcome all y'all, as long as you're white, born in this county, and ain't one of them Muslim terrorists. Or one of them gays, neither." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, it's a big seal.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, in Backwoods, calling someone a "redneck" is a compliment, we still fly the Confederate flag, every other pickup truck has a gun rack, and the Dixie Chicks are still banned from performing at the Mighty Bulwark Church of Jesus and Fine Barbecue. I don't want to stereotype anyone, but here in Backwoods, the words <span id="goog_355486282"></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gw7gNf_9njs">"Stuffed you in the trunk, EARL!" <span id="goog_355486283"></span></a></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">still makes growed up men take off their camo caps and wipe their sweaty foreheads with their grimy hands.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I digress.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday, I'm on my way to work, and sitting about fifth in line at the four-way on Bobo Road. Yes, the street really is called Bobo--here in Backwoods, we name our streets after early county pioneers and family pets. And yes, in the 70's a four-way would have been an intricate sexual encounter, but today, well, you know what it is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, I'm at the four-way and I realize I can't find my debit card in my wallet. And you know I don't want to have to call those know-it-alls at Wells Fargo Security and tell them they were right to worry about my debit card. So, now I'm picking through my purse--old receipts and ballpoint pens and lipsticks and stitch markers are flying around the car.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the guy in the silver Ford pickup behind me honks his horn. Twice.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Really? <span style="color: red;">Really?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I put down my purse, put the car in Park, turn off the ignition, and get out of the car. I walk back to the Ford and I say, "Excuse me, sir. Do you by any chance have my debit card?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Uh, no, ma'am."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Okay, because my debit card's missing and it's making me a little nervous, seeing as how my whole paycheck's in there and I got me some bills to pay. You know what I'm saying?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Yes, ma'am."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"So," I say, slowly, drawing it out a little, "if you can't help me with my problem, you're really no good to me. Can you please stop honking so I can get on with getting to work and finding my card?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">"Yes, ma'am."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then I got back into my car, leisurely, put it into Drive, and went through the four-way, because, by then it was my turn.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He took a left on two wheels, screeching. Probably went home to change his jeans. Bless his heart ....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I mean ... really?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Editor's note</strong>: Every so often, one of my readers accuses me of exaggeration, or even making things up. I prefer to think of it as adding dramatic effect to the narrative, or some such term from my college writing class. (Thank you, Dr. Taormina!). As for you, just be glad I didn't throw in a flippin' <em>Deus ex Machina</em>, for god's sake!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Second editor's note:</strong> I found the card later, stuffed into my checkbook. Whew! Didn't have to call those WF jerks.</span>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-53281149583486796132012-04-23T06:45:00.000-04:002012-04-24T14:05:50.635-04:00Saving Money With Wells Fargo<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How did this become my own private corporate complaints area? Got no clue, but here's the latest.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, this was <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/STITCHESExpos">Stitches South weekend here in Atlanta</a>--four days of classes, camaraderie and credit-busting. As always, it was wonderful--lots of knitters, knitting, wearing knitted garments, buying knitting supplies. And crocheters. Yes, there was yarn involved.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And this year was especially fun for me, because I worked with the SS folks doing some customer service stuff--met everyone, loved it! But when you sit behind a registration desk for four days, you don't have much time in the Market, searching out vendors. There's always a customer waiting and, really, that's what's most important. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, on Sunday afternoon, I had about 20 minutes to wander through the Market. I grabbed up my short list of booths that I absolutely had to get to, mapped out a route, and took off running.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Four quick stops later (and I do mean quick!), my phone rang. Wells Fargo Security informing me of a possible fraud alert on my debit card. <strong><span style="color: red;">Was someone using my card to send $3 million to a Nigerian prince to secure an inheritance? Taking a first class flight to India?</span></strong> Wow! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Recorded Voice]:</strong> This is the Wells Fargo Fraud Investigation Department, warning you of a possible fraudulent use of your card. Is this Woofgangpug? Press 1 for yes, 2 for no.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Me, pressing 1]:</strong> Uh huh.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">[<strong>Recorded Voice]:</strong> We need to verify your identity. Please tell us your zip code. Press 1 for (your zip code) or 2 for another zip code.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Me, pressing 1]:</strong> Uh huh.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Recorded Voice]:</strong> That does not agree with our records. Stay on the line for the first available Fraud Investigator.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Me, smacking forehead]:</strong> Oh, crap.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Wells Fargo Fraud Investigator, minutes later]:</strong> Hello, is this Woofgangpug?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Me</strong>]: Yes. How long will this take?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[WF]:</strong> Ms. Pug, can you verify your mother's maiden name, the last four digits of your Social Security number, and the color of your underwear?*</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">[<strong>Me, ripping hair out]:</strong> Yes. King, XXXX, and Grandmother Beige. How long will this take?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[WF]:</strong> Thank you, Ms. Pug. We believe there is fraudulent activity on your debit card. Can you verify your last four transactions?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Me, finally getting the point of the conversation]: </strong> Yes, of course. I'm here at a knitting convention and I've been buying yarn.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">[<strong>WF, skeptically]:</strong> So, you bought something from someone named Miss Bob?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Me]:</strong> Yes, yarn. And that's Miss Babs. It was beautiful--dark red worsted. You see, I'm here at a knitting convention and I'm buying yarn.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">[<strong>WF]:</strong> Uh huh. And, let's see, Buffalo Wool?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Me]:</strong> Yes, yarn. Sock yarn. It was a great deal, buy three skeins and get a fourth. I'll probably make socks, but you never know--maybe shawlettes. You see, I'm here ....</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[WF]:</strong> But it says buffalo.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Me, with a bit of edge in my voice]:</strong> Yes. Big, bulky, furry things. Horns. Intimidating. They make yarn from the fur.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[WF, still testing me to see if I'm a Nigerian prince]:</strong> I've never heard of yarn from buffaloes.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Me, checking time, 19 minutes gone]:</strong> Yes, can we move on, please? You see, I'm here at a yarn convention and I want to get back to shopping. With my debit card. For yarn.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[WF]:</strong> Oh, no. Your debit card is locked until we determine if there's been fraud. Now, did you make a purchase at Erin Lane bags? That doesn't sound like yarn.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>[Me]:</strong> You mean if I hadn't heard my phone in this really large, noisy place, full of hundreds of people, all of them <strong>BUYING YARN</strong>, you would have humiliated me while I'm here <strong>BUYING YARN</strong> by declining me?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>[WF]:</strong> Well, of course, because there's a pattern of possible fraudulent activity.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Me, screaming]:</strong> Did my husband call you? Because if he did .... Yes, I bought a bag to put my YARN in, because I'm here at a ....</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[WF]:</strong> What about Fiesta? That sounds like a party store.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Me]:</strong> Yes. Fiesta, a party on your needles! Ole! I am SO cancelling my account.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[WF]:</strong> So you're saying all these transactions are legitimate? You made them?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[Me]:</strong> Yes, yes, yes! Now may I PLEASE go back to shopping? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>[WF]:</strong> We'll release your card. Thank you for your time. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Of course, by then it was time to go back to my duties. I'm still suspicious of my husband. And I am SO cancelling my account.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><strong>Author's clarification</strong>: I have been asked by concerned readers to tell you that the asterisked line is poetic license--the intrusive questions asked did not really involve undergarments and no shapers were harmed in the writing of this account. Oh, well...take it for what it is.</span>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-40360877877210229792012-04-02T18:51:00.000-04:002012-04-02T18:51:09.542-04:00Would You Like Fries With That?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>To the CEO of McDonald’s, Grand Poobah of Fatty Goodness:</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dear Mr. (or Ms.) Poobah:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Do you have a minute? I’d like to tell you a story and get your opinion on it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First off, let me start by saying, I’m a fan. I'm not one of those pretentious foodies who think of fast food as eco-terrorism. On the contrary, I'm deeply wedded to the unhealthy world of empty nutrients.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is no one who appreciates your corporate commitment to fatty goodness more than I, and my hips and belly will attest to that fact. I personally would eat a roof shingle if it had Big Mac special sauce smeared on it, and I’m convinced that an international summit conference of world leaders could not fail to agree to <strong>Peace on Earth</strong> and <strong>Nuclear Non-Proliferation</strong> if Big Macs were served. Those tiny pieces of onion, that sauce, the roll cut in three precise slices, the manufactured cheese slice. Perfection!</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But in the morning, when I’m still self-delusional enough to convince myself that I’m going to consume only healthy carbohydrates all day—yes, all day—I’m a fan of oatmeal.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When McDonald’s launched <span style="color: red;">Apple Cinnamon Walnut Oatmeal,</span> honestly it made me warm in places I’m embarrassed to talk about. Oatmeal AND fresh apples AND cinnamon AND walnuts? Oh, baby!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Apparently, though, McDonald’s does not want me to eat this breakfast that I can almost convince myself is heart-healthy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Five days a week, on my way to work, I slide off the highway into the McDonald’s in H****, Georgia. Yes, the one nestled between the WalMart and the Chik Fil-A. That one. You're right...it's a nice one, clean with very few cooties on the play equipment. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The trip through the drive-thru is the easy part. I no longer even have to place my order most days (<span style="color: red;">ACWO</span> plus a medium diet coke). Once I convinced my personal shopping representative Lucy (yes, we're on a first-name basis) that, no, I do not want deep-fried carbohydrates, or even tasty frozen slushy carbohydrates, to accompany my healthy carbohydrates, it shaved seconds off the transaction time and now she just says “Good morning, that will be $3.20.” We have reached an understanding, as it were. Detente, even.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But beyond that, it’s a crapshoot what I'll get for breakfast.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because NOT ONCE since I started ordering this breakfast two months ago, has my order been right. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">NOT ONCE. (This is the most consistent aspect of my life at this point, so maybe I should just shut up and stop complaining.) But ... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No straw. Regular coke. No walnuts. No apples in the oatmeal. Apples but also cranberries and golden raisins, which is roughly equivalent to adding moose poop to my oatmeal in my world. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Every single morning, I have to park my car, get out, go into the restaurant, which is what I was avoiding from the beginning by going through the drive-thru, and confront a human who is not Lucy to reconstruct what has to be the easiest order known to man. Oatmeal, Apples, Cinnamon, Walnuts, Diet Coke, straw, napkin, spoon. Eight elements, plus the bag. Nine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was interesting to learn last week that there are 176 million possible winning combinations on a Mega Millions ticket. In fact, the commentators couldn’t stop saying it. There are 176 million possible combinations. No, really, 176 million. That means the odds against your winning is 176 million to one. Really. No, listen…you’re NOT winning it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">They were right. I didn't.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Are the odds on getting my breakfast right REALLY 176 million to one, or … are they just screwing with me? You tell me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-89123786613232481112011-09-25T10:57:00.000-04:002011-09-25T10:57:15.269-04:00KnittingBall<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_bD--Ptuj-I/Tn8yx81eaWI/AAAAAAAABP8/iDC2BhgOBJY/s1600/Brad+Pitt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_bD--Ptuj-I/Tn8yx81eaWI/AAAAAAAABP8/iDC2BhgOBJY/s1600/Brad+Pitt.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Great day yesterday--spent the first part of the day with friends, ShopHopping, eating and schmoozing, and then saw a great movie with Mr. Pug. A movie I would never have chosen but I really enjoyed. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A baseball movie, for a couple that never, never--well, hardly ever--goes to a baseball game. What's the deal? And what does it have to do with a knitting blog? Well, it does.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First off, it was a well-acted movie. I'm not a huge Brad Pitt fan because I've always viewed him as a pretty guy without much substance but, well into his forties, he's growing into his looks much the same way Harrison Ford has. He could, in my opinion, become a Clooney--<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Beautiful at a Certain Age</span>. There are some other well-respected character actors in the movie like Philip Seymour Hoffman, but also some new faces (at least to me) like Jonah Hill. So, not a Beautiful People movie, just good acting and a good story.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Moneyball</i> is based on the real story of an Oakland Athletics general manager faced with competing against larger-market, bigger-budget teams like the New York Yankees, who bought and stole talent from smaller, less well-funded teams. In a year when he lost three of his superstars to such teams, he had the challenge of rebuilding from the ground up on a beer budget. He became convinced that the answer could be found in statistics--that if he could find the players who could (statistically, at least) get on base more often, he could win ballgames. He was battled every step of the way by his scouts, the team's manager, and a skeptical press, yet that team ended up winning an unprecedented 20 games in a row that year (although not the Big Win they were looking for). </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And how does this relate to knitting? Hold on, hold on ... I'm getting there.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, I'm really not a student of baseball but the characterizations of the old-time scouts in <i>Moneyball</i> rang true to me. They sounded an awful lot like my father did when he talked about baseball, which he loved way more than anything else in his life, including us. He talked about baseball players the way old racetrack touts talk about horses--about stride and form and athletic build and how they "look" at their particular chosen "spot" on the field. Intuition and past experience play heavily in choosing potential winners. This one's a mudder, that one's good for the sprint but can't go the long haul. Always bet on a red horse, or one with a star on his forehead. (I had a BFF long ago who always bet on a horse with the name "Steve" or one with the title "Doctor." A horse named Dr. Steve would have sent her into ecstasy. She won as often as anyone else, as far as I could see.) </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One player in <i>Moneyball </i>was even criticized for having an ugly girlfriend which supposedly spoke to his self-confidence--how could he be a good player if he didn't have the confidence to have a pretty girlfriend?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, first and foremost, <i>Moneyball</i> reminded me of my father and of another longtime friend, Larry. I've lost touch with Larry over the years I've been here in Atlanta, but being with him always made me think of my father because of his love of baseball. Larry was the first person who ever explained to me why baseball was more of an intellectual exercise than a game like football or basketball, which were (in his opinion) purely athletic pursuits.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My father died in 1979 and never knew the 2002 team that <i>Moneyball </i>is about but he'd have LOVED this movie. It combined his love of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">All Things Mathematical</span> with his favorite sport.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But here's how it relates to knitting--you knew I'd get there eventually, didn't you?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I picked up some yarn at <a href="http://www.onlyeweandcottontoo.com/">Only Ewe and Cotton Too</a> yesterday (hi, Elyse and Bill!) because it was flat-out beautiful. Oh, and it felt good, too. Zara Chine, a gorgeous DK weight, heathered bright red with a hint of black. Great twist, fabulous color and perfect for a vest pattern I have in mind.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Perfect? Well, not exactly because the vest (the Portland Zippered Vest if it matters)--heavily cabled and intricately patterned, calls for worsted weight. If I'm going to use the Zara, it's going to require some heavy rethinking of the pattern to make up for the difference in gauge and weight. Thankfully, Susan D volunteered to help me and it MIGHT work but that's really not my inclination. My inclination, like the old baseball scouts, is to use my intuition and say, "oh, what the heck! I'm sure it'll all work out" because I desperately WANT it to work out. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But that's really not my experience--I have a pile of failed projects that didn't "work out" because I skimped on the planning (and plodding) process.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The way it's going to work out is with a heavy application of math and statistics, not with a hopeful spirit and a generous dash of wishes. I'm going to have to add spreadsheet and calculator to my knitting bag. I'm going to work with Susan to rehash the pattern--add a repeat here, go up or down a needle size, actually fit it to my tension and my body size, and there's a good chance it might actually fit when I'm through. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But like the critics and the old scouts, I think it'll take some of the magic out of the old game.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-69811051954061983802011-08-22T10:57:00.001-04:002011-08-22T11:20:56.510-04:00Peg Aloi and Tough Women<div id="blog_title"><h1 class="title-blog"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span> </h1><h1 class="title-blog"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">So, somewhere in cyberspace, a freelance writer named Peg Aloi </span><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/peg-aloi/tough-gals-do-they-still-_b_924507.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">thinks women aren't tough anymore.</span></a></h1><div class="title-blog"><br />
</div><div class="title-blog"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She seems to think that we (the stereotypical women who probably only exist in her mind) are soft and girly because some of us blog about canning vegetables and sewing clothes and even knitting. Somehow that makes us less worthy of respect, that we show that we're multidimensional people, not paper dolls. She seems to think it's anti-feminist to show what she thinks of as our feminine sides. </span></div><div class="title-blog"><br />
</div><div class="title-blog"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ya gotta love it. If Gordon Ramsey writes about cooking, he's a real man. If I do, I'm a lightweight, ruffled, girly-girl who's there to make fun of? </span></div><div class="title-blog"><br />
</div><div class="title-blog"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's the comment I left on the page:</span></div><div class="title-blog"><br />
</div><div class="title-blog"><span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yup! I burned my bra (figuratively if not literally) so my daughters would have the respect of their peers, be welcomed into J-School and law school and med school as equals, and be employed to write pithy columns that would get people talking, even if the columns were crap. You're welcome. </span></div><span style="color: red;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I really thought by now we'd be past laughing at stereotypical portraits of the sort of woman who knits or cans tomatoes or hunts or fishes or plays soccer. I thought we'd be talking about REALLY tough women--the ones that are serving in the armed forces, sitting on the Supreme Court, caring for sick relatives, and sending their kids to school well-nourished and clothed on a recession income, among other things. That was what my generation of bra-burners was trying to do. Apparently in some quarters, we're still back in the '60s. </span><span style="color: red;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, well. Maybe your daughters will be more enlightened.</span><span style="color: red;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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</div><div class="title-blog"><br />
</div></div>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-33749768808196788542011-05-05T17:12:00.000-04:002011-05-05T17:12:35.107-04:00'ey Mate! That's My Tooth!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, I was lying in the dentist's office today -- literally lying upside down almost -- while a probably otherwise nice enough woman dug and scraped and wrenched and grappled with my teeth. Seriously, a root canal is nothing to be trifled with, and I'm not the greatest patient in the first place. I was not a happy bear.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But nowadays dentists have all sorts of tools at their disposal to keep you from being distracted by the tools they're using -- IPODs and TVs and Sirius Radio and audiobooks and, for all I know, Chippendale men pole dancing on toothbrushes. As for me, I was watching Regis and Kelly, whom I only get to see when I'm in the dentist's office. (And, frankly, I don't miss them at other times.)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today Kelly was talking about weird syndromes and she mentioned a Croatian woman who awoke from some type of surgery speaking German, never having spoken it before. And another woman (why is it always women? Are men too embarrassed to report this type of insanity?) who awoke from oral surgery (hello!) speaking with a British accent.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The syndrome was called ... get this ... </span><a href="http://theness.com/neurologicablog/index.php/foreign-language-syndrome/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Foreign Language Syndrome</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and it seems it's a real complaint, if not a medically recognized syndrome. (Obviously whoever named the darned thing has a bad case of Overly Obvious Syndrome.)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, so there I am, with a mirror and a rack full of nasty-tasting purple gunk and a drill and someone's entire hand in my mouth and I'm wondering ... what language will I be speaking when I finish with this procedure? With my luck, I'll end up talking like Tony Soprano or one of those fakey British-accent guys who sell kitchen gadgets on early morning cable. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Crikey!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then I got to thinking, maybe I'll have some new syndrome, and it will change my life. I'll have a really fabulous talent, like opera singing or dress designing or I'll look like Sofia Vergara. What the hell! I'd settle for looking like Kate Middleton!</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xg5ml23UyQg/TcMRjE7FaiI/AAAAAAAABN0/HBDgb2eV4p0/s1600/sofia+vergara.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xg5ml23UyQg/TcMRjE7FaiI/AAAAAAAABN0/HBDgb2eV4p0/s1600/sofia+vergara.jpg" /></span></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe Sofia Vergara with a fabulous talent?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Never mind. Once all those implements were gone from my mouth, it was just me in there. No accent, no new body, and definitely no talent. Maybe a little slur until the anesthetic wore off completely.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rats! Why is it always me?</span>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37775227.post-79570510460548814012011-04-24T14:22:00.000-04:002011-04-24T14:22:46.585-04:00Happy Springtime Holiday!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today's a Pajama Day and I'm very much enjoying spending [Insert Generic Springtime Holiday here] at home.</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iMiKfqIWhEg/TbRmbW2y7EI/AAAAAAAABNc/9QrCqR4oQNU/s1600/DSCN0433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iMiKfqIWhEg/TbRmbW2y7EI/AAAAAAAABNc/9QrCqR4oQNU/s320/DSCN0433.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just me and the pugs... Mr. Pug had to work today if you can call frying multiple turkeys for the other Home Depot folks work. To me, it would sound like fun if I didn't know he was up most of the night (after getting off work at midnight) injecting and brining and whatever else it takes to make a fried turkey taste ... not so fried.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seriously, I told him this morning, "they take advantage of your good nature," and he just looked at me. Then I remembered, and said, "well, yeah, I take advantage of your good nature too, but <b>I'm</b> entitled!" Much eye rolling ensued.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yj9LaFneAeM/TbRnTP1TxyI/AAAAAAAABNs/eIFquvfTRUo/s1600/DSCN0447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yj9LaFneAeM/TbRnTP1TxyI/AAAAAAAABNs/eIFquvfTRUo/s320/DSCN0447.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, much celebration of the beautiful weather around here. For Lucy, a sunbath in the backyard. For me, a big pot of vegetable soup. (Oh, and the great pedicure I got yesterday--see toes at bottom left--<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">OPI Roller Girl</span>, if it matters.)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ncD3OHYv13s/TbRm4ipjynI/AAAAAAAABNg/CZM2Pv2Btcc/s1600/DSCN0444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ncD3OHYv13s/TbRm4ipjynI/AAAAAAAABNg/CZM2Pv2Btcc/s320/DSCN0444.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My entire accomplishment for the entire day thus far is that I'm within 4 rows of binding off the Lakedale shawl, no mean accomplishment since the last few rows are long, long, long. I'll withhold photos until it's complete, just so you know I don't show ALL my cards.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, in an Attitude of Gratitude, I'll share this from Older Daughter: she and I were talking as she drove home from a beach weekend. She was fussing that I was alone.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>(<b>Question</b>: why do people think that an arbitrary date on the calendar is somehow a day that <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">One Cannot Be Alone For</span>? Just because we always had a big Easter dinner with all the family around the table, searching for eggs and eating chocolate bunnies? And now we don't? Never mind, I think I just answered my own question.)</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, I was sitting on the screened porch with the phone, talking about what a nice day it is--pugs in the garden, irises and azaleas and snapdragons and roses blooming, butterfly bush almost in bloom, bird feeder doing a land office business, hummingbird at the feeder, etc.--and she reminded me that it was really all thanks to Mr. Pug, whom she somewhat irreverently called "the Man Slave." She said that without him, I'd be living in a hovel and I should be grateful.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I reminded her that without the Man Slave, I'd be living in a hovel <b>in her back yard</b>, and we were both grateful!</span></div>Woofgangpughttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08287763263781226763noreply@blogger.com0