Petunia rambles on and on….

So I’m finished with the Forest Canopy Shawl, and it still looks like something the dog brought up onto the carpet, after eating a bag of M&M candies.  (and my 2 youngest children remember what I’m referring to here!)      A shapeless blob of color.

Sadly, I’m still waiting on Blocking Wires that I ordered on 24 June.  I called the company that I ordered them from, and they agree that the shipping time is too long, even allowing for the Federal holiday here during this time – they will track the shipment.  I had placed a larger order, and the yarn and books have arrived, but the wires were to be shipped directly from the manufacturer.  If they don’t turn up in the next few days, they will send out another set.

To be sure, finding undisturbed floor space on which to block this item is going to be quite the challenge, with 2 3-year-olds and a Standard Poodle in the household.  I’ve even thought of taking it into my office when the wires arrive, blocking it on the floor there, shutting and locking the door, and leaving it overnight.   Probably would be best to do it on a Friday, to insure that it’s thoroughly dry.

And now, I’m packing for a trip.  Clothing is in a jumble, as I wonder which projects to bring.  Oddly, I’ve been doing a Saturday Market Bag, and it’s simple, easy and will stretch to hold a great deal.   I’ve got plenty of “kitchen cotten” around, so it’s a great way to keep me busy and use up odd bits of stash. 

Our trip is to western Pennsylvania, where we’ll meet our friends, Pete and Freda, and camp for a week.  This IS NOT the “roughing it” sort of camping.  They have a large trailer in place in a camp ground about 60 miles northeast of Pittsburgh.  We’ll have a bathroom, bedrooms, a stove with burners, a kitchen sink.  Sure, we’ll build a campfire at night and sit around it drinking beer, but we won’t be using it to cook our dinner -  maybe toast marshmallows, though!   (Oooops, there will go the diet!)  We’ll be biking, hiking, those that play will be golfing (while I photograph everything) Freda will be quilting while I knit.   I mentioned to Pop, who does all the packing-up of suitcases, photography and computer equipment and all the other shit that I need, about bringing my spinning wheel, and I got the “Where the hell do you want me to shove that?” look, that requires no answer.  There’d be more room in the back of the vehicle if he’d leave some of those golf clubs at home.  All at the same time, I’m realizing the packing-space issues AND wanting to show Freda all about it.  Show her how it works.  And now, I’m thinking that being raised in England, she may know a hell of a lot more than me about spinning and it just never came up??!!  Anyway, I would love to but I don’t see it happening.  Might be better off shoving a spindle and some roving into a bag and stuffing it into the back somewhere when he’s not looking.

It’s always an on-going arguement between Pop and me about how much unnecessary stuff I bring, everywhere I go.  Last time we traveled just at the change of seasons and went up into the mountains.  So I felt it was justified and necessary to take both warm and cool weather clothes, just in case ’cause ya just never know.  As it turned out, it’s a good thing I brought some heavy-weight stuff or we’d have been miserably cold up there!   And of course, I still get verbally harassed by all over one of our camping trips together, where I got all my stuff ready, suitcase, carry-on, makeup case for bathroom supplies, laptop, camera bags, craft totes, snack foods, frozen items in the cooler.  Got all that shit to the front door for Pop to carry out and stow in the back of the Jeep – he does an admirable job and can get more stuff into a smaller space than any other human I know – anyway, he loads it all in, and off we go.   Arrive many hours later, hug our friends, gab for a bit, go out to dinner then to the grocery store, come back to the campground and Pop goes out to unload our bags – and Lo and Behold, one bag is missing.  The one with all my clothes in it.  Still sitting by the front door at home.  None of them will let me forget.   Today, I got an e-mail from Pete – “Don’t forget your clothes.  We don’t want you going bare-assed through the woods scaring all the wee forest creatures!” 

So I’m getting stuff in order, made arrangements today for Sophie Poodle to go to the Poodle Palace.  She’ll be staying at the kennel that her groomer recommended, and the cost will be as high as our fuel and food expenses for the week.  This is going to be difficult, leaving her at a strange place – I’ve only ever used a kennel once before, when we shipped an Airedale Terrier to Panama – she had to stay in required quarantine there for 30 days.  That was rough on me and the dog.

And I’m walking – not to Pittsburgh!!  I mean Exercise.  Right now, a mile and a half every evening, just as it starts to cool down.  Pop works hard, and some evenings, he’s just not feeling like going out in the heat and humidity to get any more exercise after spending the whole day on his feet.  On those days, Sophie goes with me.  I’ve got a circuit that I do, up to the bridge and back, and the dog is loving it.   At about that time in the evening, she’s dancing at the door, ready to go.  When I pick up her leash, she runs over to me and sits down, but her tail end is wagging so hard it makes her skinny arse slide around on the wood floor.

More soon.  And Bri – bring back Season 2 of West Wing, sir.

On the weekend surrounding the 4th of July in the USA, a lot of sweet corn is eaten.   LIke roasting a turkey on our Thanksgiving, this is just what we here in the US do!   And almost every single kernal of corn eaten this weekend was chewed directly off the cob.  That, too, is what we do and how we do it.  Children need to be taught this and get sufficient practice.

I’ve always been one for tradition, and doing what it takes to pass it on to the next generation.  And I’m still at it.

 

 

Alex eating his corn on the cob

 

Here’s something I saw on the bottom of a forum post that I read.

Some days, stuff like this really makes me think.

 

Life is a grindstone.

Whether it grinds you down or polishes you up

Depends on what you are made of.