It has rained all day...

... and still Blogger resists my pleas to upload photos. Just as well, I suppose, since the Monkey socks are a MIL gift, and she/they are coming here next weekend. No need to spoil the "surprise", though she is an occasional blog-reader, and therefore may already suspect her 'recipient' status. Her blog visits are my only excuse for not using Norma's special swearword(see her blog, Sept.7,07) a LOT these past two months. Instead, both blood-pressure and Xanax consumption have escalated. Also up are the number of meals acquired through the truck window, the amount to sugar it takes to get me through the day, and the number of hours I spend laying awake planning my escape. Or how to convince Bill I really do want a Viking warrior's funeral. Alas, land -bound as we are, it seems unlikely I'll get the big, flaming send-off I so desire. There are probably EPA regulations against it as well. I'm pretty sure the government doesn't care if you're dead... polluting waterways is still a crime. (Pouting... really wanted to burn on a rickety, fuel-soaked barge.)

See the turn a dreary, rain-soaked day gives me? I did get "Monkey, part deux" cast on and am making a wee bit of progress. I also pawed through my stash and found a pair of tiny pillowcases that, as soon as I overcome my fear of chopping up vintage textiles, may become a stunning knitting bag. With a cute apple green lining. And a zipper, because if I've overcome my fear of desecrating textiles, I've probably gotten over the whole zipper installation thing, too. That's me. The dreamer.

Well, tonight is "Chuck/Heroes" night; the one and only night we gather together, my spouse and I, to watch the telly. I have to go railroad the kids into baths/jammies/bed and get the rest of the noisy chores done so all will be peaceful for this evening's viewing. Currently, not even the spell-check function is working on Blogger (for me), so I'm outta here. By the by, if you should see an odd looking green can of Pringle's in the grocery aisle, labeled 'spicy guacamole'... BUY IT. Do not look directly at said snack item, or even think about how gross and slimy actual guacamole is. Just eat one. We have a can for tonight's viewing pleasure. Have a great night, y'all. Cami

Black cloud of death

Yep. And it was all voluntary, too. The cloud to which I am referring is the Terminix guy and his (and I do not mean this in any sort of naughty context) "magic wand of death". Today was the day and I am so glad we ordered up this little dose of death . Can you imagine the disaster it would have been if, say, a fleet of carpet beetles or an army of moth larvae had moved in on my investment? Do you have ANY clue how much Xanax I would've had to consume to make that infestation seem barely survivable? Ugh. I'm pretty sure there are Federal safety regulations against doses of that magnitude, and at least the chemicals being used here as a sanity preservative are tested and approved for my households safety... only the bugs need worry. (and die... I'd like them to die, also... money was paid, a contract was signed... there had better be some six and eight-leggeds belly-up by tomorrow.) Wow, I feel like a mob boss. Oh, the power, the rush of all-controlling power. Like the great and powerful Oz, except MY curtain would be knitted of a lovely pink lace weight, with thousands of tiny glass aurora beads all over it that made a shimmery, tinkle-y noise when the breeze ruffled it. Huh, who knew I had a fantasy Oz-curtain in my subconscious? (I'm shocked as well.) In other news, we have a successful double chocolate cupcake experiment to report, as well as some gorgeous brioche dough waiting to raise and become cinnamon buns. They will be sporting the coffee buttercream icing, so I'm thinking neighbor Ron will be doing my bidding for quite a little while. I might want him to bring over the dozer and push the chicken house into the ravine... how fun does that sound? Ya-hoo. I'd use an exclamation mark, but the blog does not allow them. Okay, so I'm about done here and I really should get back to the inhumane short-row heels I was turning on the groupie socks earlier. They just loved meeting the Yarn Harlot and are still gushing about it every single time I let them out of their knitting bag. Honestly, some people ,er, socks, never recover from brushing up against that kind of knitting brilliance. I'm just hoping to perfect this two-at-a-time sock stuff, because I'm sick to death of having gauge changes between individual socks... it happened on the Meilenweit socks and the Kroys I did, you know, when I crushingly defeated "Imoan" in the sock contest. (heh,heh...) So, back to the ol' knitting board... um, needles. Type at you later, blog-gator. Camilla