I forgot how much I love to paint.
White letters plus torn strips of blue tape plus three colors of paint plus stippling brushes equals too stinkin' cute for words!
Godson's room is decorated with giraffes and these will grace the room in time for his first birthday.
Do you think anyone would buy Dr. Scholl's sandals painted like this? (It's an inside joke. Ask me.)
The gray sweater is growing. One repeat down, 9 to go. I think, though, that I will do only about half of the repeats. Ribbed cables eat yarn and I'm not buying another skein.
I'm sitting here watching the Super Bowl. Bullet thoughts:
- The commercials are about three things: phones, cars, and movies. They're not that funny. Ok, the Google ad was a clever one...
- The Who are old. Husband called the views we kept getting of Pete Townsend's belly a "wardrobe malfunction."
- The game is ... well ... a game. I don't really have a horse in the race so I guess I don't have that much to say about this football game.
Oh, and is anyone else a total Weeds junkie? Sheesh. Streaming Netflix strikes again. I'm enchanted. It's probably a generational thing. I mean if you're a 40 something who attended high school during the 70's or 80's, it's enchanting. Not because it's about smoking and/or dealing pot, but because it's about grownups dealing with their kids and pot and tangentially the legality thing. And because I just really like Mary-Louise Parker.
I gave up on the Tudors about halfway through the second season... the characters, while visually very appealing, were just such horrible people doing such horrible things that I couldn't have them in my life.
Go figure... that I'll take pot-heads and serial killers over British monarchs says something about my deepest self, but I'm goll-danged if I can figure out what ...