A Laugh

“Oh, come on!  If you can’t laugh at the walking dead, who can you laugh at?”  The character Dan Fielding in the tv show Night Court

Like most of the television shows I’ve watched, I don’t remember the episode this was in.  It does bring up a good point though.  Some things that people want to bring into our lives should just be given a good laugh and moved on.

For instance, that whole “sparkly vampire” franchise comes to mind.


Oh Drat!

It happened again.  I totally missed Monday in all the day-off hubbub and practically slid through Tuesday as well.  I need a vacation.

I don’t know about you, but I certainly could use a bit more humor in my life.  So, without further ado, here is the missing Monday Morning Muse.

“Well, if crime fighters fight crime and fire fighters fight fire, what do freedom fighters fight?  They never mention that  part to us, do they?”  George Carlin


Other news:

Ditty, BooBoo, DH & I participated in the Memorial Day parade.  It has become the family Memorial Day tradition.  It is followed by the second, family Memorial Day tradition . . . the annual trip to Historic Fort Snelling.  This year the trip was even more memorable because the questionable weather kept us wondering if we would be able to see everything we wanted to see at the Fort or if we would have to make a quick switch to Plan B and go to the Science Museum instead.

I felt that since it had rained earlier that morning, the grounds were probably going to be wet and muddy.  Therefore, I reasoned, if I wear my nice comfortable moccasins to the Fort, they will get soaked and will turn my socks & feet a not so lovely shade of orange.  So I kept my pumps that I wore in the parade on instead.  Please note that our Memorial Day parade is a whole three blocks long.  You could walk this puppy with bunions while in pumps and still be fine.  The short parade walk is due to the location of our American Legion, too close to a very busy road for a longer parade.

So I walked around the historic fort with DH & the kids.  Yes, people were staring at my feet.  And I kept wondering how they could stand walking around in flip-flops.  No arch support and that piece of shoe between your toes . . . it would have driven me crazy.  But after 4 hours at the fort, DH & the kids were ready to leave.

And go to Minnehaha Falls.  Really!  (in case you’re wondering how to pronounce Minnehaha, it’s Mini-ha-ha.)

We arrived at Minnehaha Creek Park and realized that this park you have to pay for parking.  It’s a strange concept, but that’s Minneapolis I guess.  So we paid for parking and then proceeded to the shelter to check out the maps to find the trail down to the falls.  DH & I found the map and he checked the scale to see how far we would need to walk to get to the falls.  He figured about 4000 feet.  Remember, I’m still in pumps.  “Don’t tell the kids.” I told him.  I knew they would not want to walk that far after all the walking at the fort.  So we hoofed it down the sidewalk and finally came to the stairs leading down to the falls. 

Now my feet were aching and we still had the walk back to the van.  Oh joy, DH & the kids decided to walk the lower path along the creek back to the van.  This meant walking:  on stones, through mud and climbing a few inclines when the trail veered up away from the edge of the creek for safety.  And of course, the requisite climb up the stairs to get back up to parking lot level.

I used to call my pumps my running shoes because I wore them to run errands and pick up kids.  Now I can call them my hiking shoes too.

It was still a blessed Memorial Day.  I didn’t have to cook lunch or supper!

Knitting & Crocheting

A post on Teresa’s blog about crochet and the stereotype that it is just something old ladies do got me thinking.

Why do people think that only old ladies knit or crochet? 

Misinformation, a perceived inability to learn the craft, or envy?

I suppose it depends on the person.  I learned to knit at the age of 12, I was in 6th grade.  I had wanted to learn to knit since about 3rd grade.  The catholic school I attended was located next to a convent and catholic college.  The college had as one of it’s majors, elementary education.  So our school benefitted from lots of student teachers helping in the classroom.  What does this have to do with learning to knit?  Hang in there, I’m getting to that.

The college, in order to split the school year into equal parts (or some other strange reason known only to them), had a policy of “January term”.  This was a time, the whole month of January, that the students would use to learn a new thing or use for travel.  Our school then lost much of it’s student teacher population and the now harried staff decided that one hour each day should be used to teach us something that was not part of the regular curriculum.  See, it’s coming together now isn’t it.

Yes, that was how I learned to knit.  But it wasn’t easy.  In 3rd grade, I was too young for the knitting class.  It was only open to 4th-6th grade students.  So I learned German that year.  I can still count to ten and say my ABC’s, yes & no, and thank you in that language.  Not much retention I admit but I was only 9 years old and haven’t had reason to practice much in the 37 years since.

In 4th grade, I put knitting down as my first choice, something for my second (although what it was has been obscurred by time and irrelevance), and hairpin lace as my third choice.  Our school also had a policy that the order of selection to a class would switch each year in a show of fairness.  That year, the 1st grade got to pick their classes first and knitting was opened up to 3rd grade students.  I was placed in hairpin lace.  Yes, I still know how to crochet hairpin lace.  However due to the ridicule from the student teacher, I didn’t practice that as much as I might have, but I can still create the long strips and attach them to make afghans, shawls, etc.  Someday I’ll search out the more intricate patterns and make something that isn’t rectangular in shape.  🙂

In 5th grade, I again put knitting down as my first choice, something obscured for my second, and square dancing as my third.  This year, the 6th grade got to choose first and I was relegated to learn square dancing.  Yes, I probably could still turn out a decent Virginia reel, but not with much enthusiasm.  You see, I was so set on learning to knit and none, absolutely none, of my relatives knew how to knit or crochet and therefore I had to learn at school if I was to learn at all.  And I was very determined to learn.

So in 6th grade, my final opportunity to learn and the 1st grade’s turn to again choose first so my chances were not good, I put knitting down as my first choice.  And my second choice, and my third choice.  I handed my paper to my teacher.  My teacher brought the paper back to me in homeroom one of the following days.  He told me, in front of the class, that I would have to change two of my selections since they could not all be the same.  I told him that I didn’t want another class.  That was too bad, he said, but I would still have to make two other selections.  At this point I was both frantic and furious.  I said that I would make the selections but that if I was placed anywhere but knitting, I would not participate in the other class.  My teacher was shocked.  You see I was a very shy child who never spoke unless called on so this was quite a radical departure from the placid, meek child he had taught for the whole first semester.

Nevertheless, I was determined.  I rapidly answered his statement that I should learn at home with the information that I had noone at home to teach me.  I also stated that I had received my third choice every year since third grade and that didn’t seem fair to me at all.  I stated that the system of switching which grade began selection was also unfair since 6th grade was the last chance any of us had of getting a class that we really wanted and why couldn’t we have our first choice since the other grades had at least one more year to get theirs.  The rest of my class sat in mute amazement that I (of all people) would argue with a teacher.  But I had.

The teacher didn’t seem too impressed with my disobedience because he told me to erase two and make other selections.  That was when I told him that he could make me change my classes but he could not make me participate in them and that “I would sit like a bump on a log” if I didn’t get to learn how to knit.

I guess he had a chat with the principal about me and perhaps about the system and it’s fairness as well because it was announced the next day that a change was being made.  When our class got their notices as to which class they would have at J-term that year, we all got our first choices.  And I not only learned to knit, I got a smile from my teacher.  That was definitely not what he was doing as I argued with him in front of the class.  I was glad that he was not angry and I was overjoyed that I would finally be able to learn something that I had wanted so badly to learn.

I still knit today, 34 years later, and I taught myself to crochet when I was 20 and pregnant with my oldest.  I didn’t think there would be enough time to knit her a blanket and so I taught myself to crochet and made a baby blanket for her out of lacey granny squares.  I think the poor blanket was relegated to a bottom shelf in the closet, in dire need of repairs but I’m pretty sure it’s around somewhere.

There hasn’t always been a load of free time to practice my knitting or crocheting over the years.  Still, I do them when I can and make baby blankets or sweaters, hats, booties for the new arrivals in the extended family and beyond. 

And BooBoo’s monk’s robe is now done to the armpits and I have started the first sleeve.  My calculations were a bit off for the sleeve the first time but that is fixed now and a nice wide sleeve has about 3 inches finished length so far.  I figure I’ll need about 17-18 inches, so it’s just a beginning but I know it will go more quickly than the body did simply because there are so fewer stitches needing to be worked.  Hopefully time will allow the posting of some pictures soon.

Don’t let the stereotypes get you down.  Carry on with your knitting, crocheting or whatever other “little old lady” craft you enjoy.  The people around you will be blessed by your creations and you will spread joy in the world.

That dirty rotten fly

Okay in honor of St Patrick’s Day, here’s a wee little joke:

An Englishman, an American and an Irishman stop at a pub.  All order a pint of Guiness.  The pub owner sets their beers in front of them and at precisely the same moment, a fly drops into each pint.

The Englishman says “Excuse me but there’s a fly in my drink.  Please draw me another pint.”

The American picks up the cardboard coaster and uses it to flick the fly onto the floor.  He then proceeds to drink his pint.

The Irishman is in a right tizzy.  He picks the fly up by it’s wings, holds it upside down over the pint and screams “Spit it out!  Spit it all out, you wee bugger!”

Enjoy your pint and tip one for me too.  It’s been a long week.

Hello there

We’re just hanging out over here, trying to decompress from the Christmas hubbub.

Ever have days like this?

Resort Vacation

At least the penguins are enjoying the weather.  Do you think they packed enough in that basket?  Balls, stilts and who knows what else.  Bet there’s no broccoli, lol.

It’s snowing (again) today.  Doesn’t look like it could snow enough to cancel tonight’s activities (picture day & cookie dough pickup for BooBoo’s wrestling group).  I just hope it doesn’t slop up the roads too much.  Ditty needs her flute repaired and I have to drive it to the shop.

If it’s snowing where you are . . . drive safe, carry extra windshield washer fluid and stay warm.

St Nicholas

BooBoo was up to some tricks on St. Nicholas eve this year.  He somehow thought that he should put up signs over his slippers (yes, plural.  He put out both!).

One for

and one for

I’m not sure that he believes me when I tell him that St. Nicholas is the real Santa Claus.  Our St. Nicholas brings candy, nuts and oranges or apples not toys.

BooBoo wasn’t too disappointed though.  He told me, “Well, the good news is: I got more candy than I expected!”


Overheard at supper

We were having supper at Pizza Ranch last Sunday.  DH asked the kids if they wanted to watch a movie when we got home.  Ditty said, “Yes, the one called Watch Ditty Sleep”.  To which BooBoo replied, “And it’s sequel, BooBoo Wakes Up His Sister”. 

Oh, they are going to have a hard time being good this year I think.

Facebook Funnies

Some of the folks on Facebook are joining together to show support for the fight against child abuse by changing their profile picture to a picture of one of their favorite childhood cartoons.

I had a hard time choosing between this:

or this:

or this:

So I finally decided on this:

Although Dick Dastardley & Muttley didn’t make the grade, I had forgotten about Speed Buggy.  I couldn’t find a picture of Sea Lab 2020, so Josie & the Pussycats won this go round.  But Captain Caveman up at the top may show up someday just for the fun of it.

Praying that child abuse will end and children will be safe all over the world.

It’s going to be a very short week

The week of Thanksgiving is always a very short week, schoolwise that is.  Ditty & BooBoo have school on just Monday & Tuesday this week.  And of course, both nights are jam packed with stuff.

Monday night is the Knowledge Bowl meet hosted by our school.  I’ll be working the concession stand that night.  Tuesday night is the Family Fun Night, hosted by the Third Grade Parents and the Home & School Association.  Yes, BooBoo is in 3rd grade so that means . . . I’ll be working the concession stand that night. 

Sounds like deja vu doesn’t it?  That’s actually fine with me.  For one, I’ll be old hat at the tasks we need to get done and two, it means that I don’t have to do any of the math games that night.  Yes, it’s a Math games fun night.  I don’t know about you, but the last thing I want to do after a long and busy day is math!  So even though we have to charge money for the concessions and make change, and yes I know that’s math too, I would still rather work the concession stand than be responsible for entertaining kids with math games.

Weird but true.  I am also aware of how important math is to our kid’s future.  I just personally don’t care to do more of it than I absolutely have to.  But I’ve got my kids in the right place.  After all, they consider math games to be a family fun night.  My kids fit in really well on this, I’m not so sure about how well I fit in.

Draw Two

One of the things my kids enjoy is playing games as a family.  So last Friday night, DH & I sat down with the kids to play Uno.  Immediately, the competition began.

“Oh No!  I’m not sitting in between Dad & Mom!”, Ditty stated emphatically. “I always end up getting all their skips and draw fours.”

So the seating arrangement was changed.  DH & I sat next to each other.  I was across the table from BooBoo and Ditty was feeling pretty safe sitting across the table from her father.  DH dealt the first round.  After BooBoo needed to draw a card, several times in a row on his turns, DH said, “How did we manage to put the kid with the shortest arms at the long end of the table?”.  “Just let it go for now”, I replied, “He’ll manage.”

I dealt the second round and Ditty was getting pretty confident that no one was going to play nasty cards against her.  Then it was her turn to deal.  Oh boy, the hand she dealt me was almost all word cards.  We have an old Uno deck that actually has the words “Skip” “Reverse” and “Draw Two” written on the cards instead of those unintelligible symbols.  I guess the game company has decided that people can’t read anymore so they need weird symbols on their cards instead.  Or else symbols mean they don’t have to produce decks in English, Spanish, Japanese, etc.

But anyway, back to the game.  Since I was sitting on Ditty’s right, she got bombarded with those word cards.  I think I heard “MOM!” more times on Friday night than I have in the past ten years or so.

But the best line of the night came near the end of that round.  Ditty: “Green two”, BooBoo: “Blue two”, DH: “Yellow two”, me: “Draw two”.  Back to Ditty, “Mom!  You were supposed to say Red two!”  I snigger at Ditty, “Nope, that was too good a pattern to resist.”

Hope all your game nights are lots of laughs.

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