Saturday, November 13, 2010

What we're up to

Thia afternoon I went for a pedicure, which is something I treat myself to about once a month. I lurve a pedicure. Of course, it's done by these sweet Vietnamese ladies who spend the whole time jabbering in Vietnamese, which almost lulls me to sleep. I'm jerked back to awareness by the question, "This OK, Miss Crazy? No hurt?" Un no hurt, just keep rubbing my foot. Ahhhh.

By the time I got through and the polish was dry, it was dark. I was driving home through a neighborhood, when all of the sudden, I hit the brake and shouted OH MY GOD! Why? Because I had come to a house that was fully decked out and lit up for Christmas. Big hard plastic snowmen, Santa Claus, giant lights in the tree, lights everywhere in the front and back yard. And what day is it? It's not even the middle of November yet! Jeez. And I'm already sick of the Christmas crappe in the stores. Must I put up with it year round?


At least fall is in full swing. The trees are starting to put out some serious color. These are crepe myrtles at the front of my subdivision.

And here's a lovely tree I see on my commute, going towards the interstate. Love the full crown and the gold leaves.

I'm still making snowflakes - these are dull. But I've finished one set of wrist warmers (or wrist worms, BB!).

I like these. I thought about knitting them, but I'm not a great knitter and I didn't have the right kind of needles. (It really needed to be knit on several double pointed needles.) So I made up a quick crochet pattern. If anyone wants it, email me.  It's very dumb and simple - just my style. I'm going to make some more as presents.

Curly came by on Tuesday and spent the night. He's homesick. He wanted to spend two nights, but we ended up having some serious issues with him falling back into his bad old habits. Lots of yelling and screaming and accusations ensued Wednesday morning. There was a lot I won't go into here, but I ended up filling up his gas tank, giving him $10, and sending him back home. He called again Thursday and was sobbing and sick (fever and vomiting), and apologized for his behavior and begged to come home. But I can't do that. Nothing about him has changed. The best thing I can do right now is let him be responsible for himself, and not disrupt everyone else.

Mothering ain't for wussies. Yo.

Moe is spending the weekend hiking and camping with his Boy Scout troop. I'm sure he'll come back totally filthy tomorrow. Moe loves his scout troop. I love having some alone time with DH (who is watching football behind me even as we speak). It's nice and quiet here. Ah, peace and quiet. Maybe I can get DH to rub my feet too.

Here is funny Mr. Vader. (That's Sophie's tail.) He stretches out like this all the time. I love to see his little black paddy paws.

Hope your weekend is good...


  1. That Vader.... he always makes me laugh!
    Fox : )

  2. kids, what can you say, love em, but they have to learn to be on their own and how to get along with others. Best of luck on your journey to sainthood.
    your wrist warmers look like they can do the job. have a nice quiet weekend.

  3. I also have a big problem with seeing the 'early bird' Christmas stuff. This is a favorite subject of mine and has almost led me to seek professional help! But I absolutely freak out when I hear Christmas music in stores in early November (one store is already blaring it in their parking lot). I refuse to shop there!

    And one TOWN had their Christmas pole decorations up a whole week BEFORE Halloween!! I said to hubby as we drove through, "PLease tell me I'm not seeing holly wreaths and red bows!" It actually made the newspaper, so apparently others weren't happy about it, either.

    I feel so sorry for the clerks in the stores. I love Christmas and especially the music, but this blatant exploitation is so frustrating.

    Can't believe all the cats were together (harmoniously?) in one spot!

  4. I love your wrist worms almost as much as your golden trees!
    Well done.

  5. Your "Mothering ain't for wussies. Yo" made me LOL - hysterically. As a mother of 18-year-old twin boys, all I can say is "Amen, sister."

  6. Motherhood is not for wimps

    I thought you were going to tell us you slammed on the brakes and smudged off the polish on your big toes!