Obama quips

Of COURSE he's funny...

About a year ago I read Audacity of Hope and became very excited about Obama. I joined a listserve and was invited to Bowlathons WAY too early in the campaigning for my taste. Now, though I am ready to represent at my caucus... in two months.

Politics of the future

What does this mean! What will be next?!

You may notice...

That this blog seems a lot more populated than it used to be.

No, I didn't just retroactively pen my memories of days past, I just moved blog entries over from my Myspace blog that I've had for awhile now. So, if you're bored, you can read further back in my life.

Socks on Zoks

 

There it is, ladies and gentlemen. A sock. My first, after 3 or 4 years of knitting. I was very intimidated by socks when I started. The first thing I made that I was very impressed with was a pair of gloves for Z. He was working then in an office at the Evil Empire in a server room. In order to keep the machines cool, there was an air conditioner attempting to keep the room around 60 F... right over Z's head. The dude "next" to him (4 feet away) wore short sleeves and shorts because he was practically getting a sunburn from the machines beside him, but Z wore a fleece and a hat everyday. When he told me that he sometimes went to the bathroom just to run his hands under the hot water to warm them up, I decided I had to make him some gloves.

Those of you who know Z, know that he can be rather particular. I was concerned that I might make gloves only to have them discarded if they weren't efficient enough, so the design of these "hobo gloves" (half-fingers) was a collaborative effort, but the knitting and engineering were all me. I am proud to report that Z wears the gloves to this day. (Literally today.... it's wicked cold here right now.)

Always, though, Z asked for socks, and always, I told him I wasn't ready, like a martial artist deferring her fight against the master for years despite the montage displaying her hours of devoted practice. (Have I mentioned that I watch Kung Fu movies at the Sunset Tavern once a month? Does it show?)

Then Z quit smoking. I quit smoking too, but I've had way more practice, having quit an average of once a year over the last 12 years. Z didn't practice much, he just up and did it... and I couldn't possibly protest about making socks anymore. The day that he'd been quit for a month, I picked out a pattern and some yarn. Admittedly, I was slowed down by the s mittens (did I mention that, too?) but here I am, half way through sock #2, and I've still got a week till Z officially has 60 days smober. I think I can do it, don't you?

winter storm warning...

It snowed on Saturday and then rained all day today. I helped paint our new building this morning and then took off to go to the farmer's market. The farmer's market has become such a big part of how we eat, that I've learned that I have a rough time making food all week when I can't get there, so I went even thought I signed up to help paint. (I took an extra long time, though and when I got back... they were all done! I've got to say I was happy about that.)

It was raining HARD by the time I made it, and all the vendors were huddled in he center of their awnings or tents. Everyone had the cleanest carrots and parnsips ever, because they'd been rained on all the way to Ballard! (I went to a farmer I didn't recognize, and just as he handed me my bag of food, he grabbed a parsnip off of the pile, and tossed it in, then gave me a meaningful look that I found very difficult to interpret through his beard and rain gear. I gave him a meaningful look back that was meant to communicate "Gee, thanks! What a treat!" and headed back into the rain.

I walked past the fisherman and sighed. There are these great guys who sell wild, troll caught salmon and halibut and cod and other things. I stopped eating animals, though, including fish, and I wondered if they'd notice that I haven't been buying from them in months. I walked by and one of the fishermen's friends who was standing beneath a big green umbrella remarked "There goes a real northwesterner; no umbrella or hat!" The fisherman (they all are Italian, and therefore remind me of home. They smile and are charming and have big fat fingers. I wish they sold seaweed or something!) said "where" and the friends said "She just walked on by."

I smiled, and asserted to myself that I'm a real NorthEASTerner, but at this point who can tell.

ART for the PEOPLE

Check it.

My friend Sandra showed me this today and I dig it the most. Can't wait till I actually have $20!

Lice and a song

Today, before the kids arrived, I discovered that one of the kids in my group, and her brother have lice.

Later, when I went to pick half the kids up at once school, I sang an excited kind of theme song called something like "Check the Big Kids' Heads for Lice Day". It had a verse and brief chorus and it rhymed and musically made sense. It was dumb, and repetitive and I couldn't remember it ten minutes later, to sing a reprise for some kids who were late, but it made kids giggle.

This proves that it isn't just my mother's voice that comes out of me anymore, it's also my dad's.