Way Out of the Loop

Last week gave my first dinner party in my house. I've only lived here 15 years. Saturday my new dog, Sunshine, arrived from the Florida track. Finished a sock and Lucy chewed the cuff and heel; everybody's a critic. Yesterday got new contact lenses (that don't fit), and was told I'm developing cataracts, tho it will be years before surgery is necessary. This morning, the dentist replaced 2 fillings that wore out. And I'm writing this at the library because the internet is on vacation at my house. Service man due tonight. Updates and photos as soon as the whirlwind stops. Now, I mustn't forget to stop by the desk and pick up the book that's on hold for me. Franklin, the Panopticon, recommended it recently. Can't resist a good German soap-opera.

Remake Alert

As part of my Personal Life's Mission, it is my duty to inform all who care to listen when they make a new version of a fine old movie. In this case, it's 3:10 to Yuma. This is my favorite western. Instead of Van Heflin and Glenn Ford, they've got Christian Bale and Russell Crowe. Interesting choices, and I'll probably go see it, but how can they improve upon the original? I ask you. So. It's not too late, if you are among the unfortunate few who haven't seen the 1957 flick, to rent it now.

Shawl? What Shawl?

Here's the zigzag sock I've been working on in odd moments. I'm just about to turn the heel. When finished, it's bound to fit someone... somewhere...

Can This Shawl Be Saved?

Or, I Went to Art College Because I Couldn't Do Math

I wanted a serious shawl; one that I could wrap around me, and tuck in, or tie. I couldn't tell how wide the little darlin' was on my 24" #6 circular needles, so I used all of my #6 needles to see just how wide this baby was. Astounding. Slightly bunched, although I had originally planned to block it when finished, the widest part of this shawl is over nine feet long.

Looking on the bright side, tomorrow I'll be going to the Yarn Lounge. Stewart and Melanie, and maybe even Janice, will Make it All Better, one way or another. And Homer, he helps me in so many ways.

Patient of the Day

OK he wasn't a paying customer, but don't you love his color sense?

This is the New Color of the Porch Floor

Occasionally, I have a feeling that can only be described as the certainty of impending doom. OK, more than occasionally. Mostly it's just random, non-specific anxiety. This morning I had a bad feeling as I prepared for a jaunt to Home Depot, for porch floor paint. I picked up the camera as an afterthought.

The checkout lady put the gallon can on the counter, more off than on, and I watched in fascination as it slowly tilted, then fell, striking the floor along the upper edge, which caused the lid to pop off and shoot out a few feet, then roll drunkenly for a few more. The main body of paint unfolded itself from the can. It was ballet. It was tai chi. It was performance art. The best part was, it wasn't my fault, and I didn't get any on me.

Anxiety was instantly dispersed. Another gallon was procured, and the first coat was on the porch floor by the time Car Talk was over. The color is called Terrace View. I really like it.

Anger Makes Me Tired

Yesterday I got called into the Principal's Office, so to speak, and belittled for stupid stuff. It was not criticism, nor correction. It was not a conversation between adults. It was blahblahblah from someone who doesn't belong in management, or anywhere near people.

I was annoyed at myself for not being able to immediately laugh it off. At home, my friend Ruth called (not her real name.) She loves to give advice. She said that when she was here the other day, she noticed that My Dog is Fat. She Needs to go on a Diet.

The Nerve.

Fortunately, last night was tai chi class. We meditate for half an hour, fling ourselves around loosening and warming our joints, then learn some new moves. I slept like a baby afterwards, and woke up before Lucy came bounding up the stairs to jump on the bed and lick my underarms.

Still, I feel the need for a change of scene. For someone else to cook and wash the dishes. To spend money that looks like play money, so it doesn't seem like I'm spending money at all.