Petunia rambles on and on….

Why do “parts” only itch when your hands are wet/dirty OR you’re in a meeting with important people?

Bitching about a weight issue ought to provide sufficient exercise to correct the situation. If I ran the world, that’s the way it would be.

How come my husband had no idea what I was talking about when I asked him to help me find that green thingie that I had 2 days ago and it was right near this towel (waving small blue hand towel at him)?  Why did he ask, “Is it something in the back of the refrigerator?” and then wonder why I glared at him, still storming around the house, searching high and low for that little green thingie with the stuff in it, whatever you call it?  Why did he ask, “Well, where did you put it?”  GAH – if I knew that, I wouldn’t waste almost an hour going around the house like a maniac, searching, and then finally, clearly remembering that I shouldn’t be searching “high and low” because the reason I separated the green thingie from the towel was to prevent the damn dog from eating it, so I would never have put it low where the dog could get it, and there would be no need to put it high – same reason – and my husband got up and got another beer, staying out of my way.  And I couldn’t even remember what I was looking for – I was that mad!! 

How does one handle the emotional trauma of knitting an entire oversized Forest Canopy Shawl, and run out of yarn 19 ef’ing stitches from the end of the bind-off?  If I had made it one damn row shorter, I’d have had enough to finish.  What the hell do I do now?  Take out all those bound off stitches, tink back about 12 rows of edging, then another row or two, to be on the safe side, and start again with the edging – WITH MY EYES???  I’ll be insane.

Am in the middle of a series of e-mails with my webmaster, the fellow who does the techie behind-the-scenes networking smart stuff backing up this, and quite a few other, blogs. He talks of upgrading the blogging software to something about WordPress MU (for multiple users?) that will enable more plug-ins and allow me/us to do more. This means I’ll have to learn new shit. I asked if I should start hyper-ventilating now, and he assures me that he will install it somewhere else, attempt to copy all docs and settings out and test it FIRST!!  I would have a fit if all the links, pictures and/or customization that I’ve done with this blog to make it MINE were to be lost – there was a big learning curve there for an old broad.  I keep telling myself that this is a college-educated, degree’d person, who specializes in networking, earns his living doing this sort of thing, keeps many BIG commercial sites up, wore a tie-dyed T-Shirt and Afro wig the day WaWa’s HoagieFest site went live.  Stay calm, chill, relax and do not remember the time he came home from college with LONG BLUE HAIR.

After promising my husband that I would not spend any more money on knitting/spinning/crafting, I just renewed my membership in TKGA – The Knitting Guild Association, for 2 more years.  So shoot me.  I do agree with him, though, that we would have a snugger, cheaper winter if I took all the wool/yarn/fiber out of the storage bins and lined it all up against the outside walls to increase the insulation factor of the house.

Why do men find it perfectly acceptable and appropriate for a woman to go to a male OB/GYN doctor and bare her “personal parts” but damn near pass out if a spouse hints/jokes that his appointment at the urologist’s office is with a female doctor?  (There is something wrong with a wife that would do that!) I’m just saying.

If I still lived in Florida or the Republic of Panama, I would not have to spend so much damn time every year switching out winter clothes and summer clothes. All the washing and folding and packing up stuff into large mouse-proof containers is a hateful task, one that I dread every year.  And this time of year is mentally worse than the spring.  Oooh, warm weather coming is something to look forward to, and getting the clothes out makes you think of the beach and swimming, sitting out in the sun, walking on the boardwalk, rum drinks, all good things.  Getting out boots, gloves, heavy coats, sweaters forces me to realize that soon, I’ll be freezing my ass off, scraping ice off the windshield at the crack of dawn.

Unpacking the winter clothes is also forcing me to come to terms with the fact that the size 10 skirts and slacks are unlikely to fit me this winter. And I’ve got containers full of them.

I suspect that drinking a large French Vanilla Cappuccino every day will make my ass broader.  This is not a proven fact yet though, and I’m thinking of approaching the federal government for a $52,000,000 grant so I can continue further study into this matter.

And that’s another thing. The Crack of Dawn is now happening in broad daylight.  I do not like Standard Time.  I know many that fuss about this time-change stuff – “they stole an hour from me” shit. Somebody I know called Pop by the grandchildren gripes for a whole week every spring about being tired because of the “missing hour.”  Ptah! Dumb.  I love Daylight Saving Time and wish we kept it that way all year.  I don’t like daylight at 6am – what a waste.  At 6am, all I can do is drink coffee and scratch, and both can be done when it’s dark outside.  After work, I like to get chores done, making stops at grocery, drug store, yarn shop, gas station, whatever needs to be done. I don’t see as well in the dark as I should, so I’m less comfortable driving.  My after-work time has been drastically cut with this damn time change.  If I’m running late at the office, it’s already dark before I even get home. 

I’m making husband a sweater. It’s gray. It’s plain. It’s miles and miles of plain gray. This project varies between very soothing and deathly boring.

I found the green tube thingie of special Bath and Body Works hand cream. It was behind the mixer in the kitchen??? Huh?

I don’t fly.  My fear of heights and flying is utterly stupid legendary. And it’s nothing new, either.  My last flight was on 15 August 1983, to get the kids and me back into the United States!  And I won’t fly ever again. Everybody knows all about it. I am a freak!

With that in mind, I’m so very grateful that I didn’t know about the 23rd Annual Fall Music Festival.  It would have killed me either way – to know about it ahead of time and not go, or to have a coronary in mid-flight brought on by fear.   What a double-header!  It’s way too far to walk there, but I might have tried.

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I’m a music person.  I don’t much care for sitting around watching TV or movies which makes one wonder why I got married the first time and the second time.  I’m not sure how to turn our TV on and couldn’t push the 18 buttons in the proper sequence to get the Blu-Ray to work because I’ve never cared enough to learn.  I always have music playing in the car – loudly - and it seems like I’ve been driving for a great deal of my life. Now, it’s a CD-changer that holds the Journey and Doobie Brothers music, and the iPod, and it used to be a cassette player – Before that, it was all “Top 40” and on the radio with the other crap and the commercials!  I like how technology has given us control and we can now listen to the music we like, and not be bothered with the rest.

So this morning, it was Michael McDonald’s turn to entertain me (The Ultimate Collection) on the morning commute. And I’ve played it a thousand times before, and surely remember when all the songs were new, and we’ve all hummed along with the lyrics, never really looking for any deep meanings there.  Just great tunes, good beat.  Maybe I’ve wished I was on a dancefloor rather than behind the steering wheel!!  Oh, yeah, many times.

But today, there was something else there with me.

He came from somewhere back in her long ago….

 

What a fool believes he sees

No wise man has the power to reason away.

 

What seems to be

Is always better than nothing

And nothing at all.

I do alot with red.  Have you seen my car?  My purse? Sweaters, jackets, even Mother-of-the-Bride!  (well, that was a deep tasteful red. More of a cranberry, and it was October)  Red totebags, fingernail polish, red laptop. As my daughter’s head naturally snaps around to anything purple, I spot RED about 248 miles off.

For several reasons, I’m on this money-saving kick which will last until the next time I see some roving that I want to spin which is a good and wonderful thing to do.  So on the last few times I’ve gone to Sam’s Club for bulk grocery items, I’ve stayed out of the book section, away from the geekie-toys department – hell, I even put a brand-new JOURNEY DVD (Live in Manila) back on the shelf – don’t believe it, do ya, Jimps?? It almost killed me.  But one thing there has been taunting me, sticking its tongue out at me (if it had one). Several trips now, I’ve resisted its pull, walked on by and left it there.

Didn’t work this time.

So, I’m a kitchen freak, and perhaps I’ll be spending more time there soon.  And there’s nothing like one of these heavy cast-iron Dutch Ovens for soup and stews and chili and a good pot roast.  Husband says we won’t even need to find a place to put it away – it’ll be in use that much!