When the phrase “Japanese Cherry Blossom” starts looking like “Pajama Cheesy Balloon” it’s probably time to schedule an eye exam.
This morning I drove to Trader Joe’s because last night Jeff mentioned that he has heard good things about this stuff:
(I purposefully filtered the hell out of the photo to make it look stupid because partially popped popcorn IS stupid, yet also very tasty.) I opened the bag, tried it, and then stuffed it into the pantry because I have less than two weeks left with my health coach, and I don’t need partially popped popcorn to untie my stamina shoes.
After Trader Joe’s, I drove to Starbucks where the parking lot was full and I could have parked at the bank but I really don’t like the morning crowd at Starbucks, so forget it. I took off for home with my zombie book on the iPod and the chilly air in my face.
It’s cardigan season, and today I went with this one.
(Zombie fiction. I’m currently reading The Girl With All The Gifts. I started it because I thought it was nonfiction and about gifted kids, and I’m the first to admit that I’m not as sharp as I used to be.)
When I turned onto the road by our house, I saw a guy with what could have been a tennis racquet in his backpack, but it also could have been a baseball bat or a roll of wrapping paper or a gun. (Please re-read the first sentence of this post and know that I just left a message to set up an appointment.) Anyway, I started thinking about yesterday’s school shooting (the 45th school shooting of 2015) and how the odds of being shot right now seem so much higher than they were when I was a kid and if anyone in my family is going to be shot, I really hope it’s me and not them. (I don’t have a gun. I will never have a gun. I don’t trust myself enough to know that I wouldn’t make a mistake or stay completely sane in a situation where I might need to use a gun.) And how sad it is to have these thoughts jumping around while I’m wearing a spiffy cardigan and listening to goofy zombie fiction and surrounding myself with partially popped popcorn and raw cheese. We need to be louder. I need to be louder.
Today I’ll be spending a bit of time with this guy. I started the wrap in 2008 and I’m really tired of not getting things done. I hope your weekend is a good one.
9 thoughts on “Ends. Odds. Partially Popped.”
It is my personal opinion that one should give oneself great latitude for accountability in completing projects in laceweight. #soskinny #themanymanystitches
Look how much you’ve already done!! If you work for a bit, and then set it down again – do not be hard on yourself – it is an epic undertaking.
That quilt wrap is GORGEOUS! As is your cardi, but the quilt wrap, yum!
Good for you to know you have no business with a gun.
Totally with you on the gun thing. I’d definitely shoot my eye out. (I just fixed shoot as autocorrect put shit, which could also be true given my fairly recent gallbladder removal.) I like The Girl With All the Gifts, but I’m a sucker for YA dystopian fiction.
I started one of those wraps too, but I gave up with all the ends. I ended up taking some of the squares apart, felted them, and use them as coasters. Instead I started knitting solid squares, but then I put it aside and later couldn’t remember what size needle I’d been using, so I ripped it. The basket of yarn has been sitting next to the couch, all pretty and glowy for about a year. Ridiculous. Maybe I really should just knit hot pads to felt out of my pretty bright colors and give them away at Christmas.
Hi. Can you please share the contact info for your health coach? I need one badly. Thank you.
Cynthia: The e-mail you provided isn’t working. I would love to send you the info, but the message keeps getting sent back to me. Just in case you come back here, here is her site: https://kmshealthcoach.wordpress.com/
The Girl With All The Gifts! So so so good; I still miss Melanie. :-/ And how are you listening on your iPod?? My colleague was *just* asking me how she can listen to books on an iPod. :-)
eye appts: good.
partiallly popped popcorn: intriguing.
finishing wips: a dream.
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