Annie Knits: Awright, Already!

Yes. A hiatus from blogging. I took one.

Now that I'm past that confession, I'll make a few more.

I don't like blogging about negative personal stuff. It just prolongs and exacerbates it. That's why I'm not doing it.
I drink too much coffee and I should probably stop. Ha. Ok, at least slow down.
I've watched all of Monarch of the Glen that I can get ahold of. It's a fluffy BBC series/soap opera that you can stream on Netflix. It's addictive. It takes place in the Highlands of Scotland and I love love love the accents. That's probably why I watch it -- the accents. I think a Scots accent is hot. My GYN for years was a Scotsman so I should have relatively negative associations with the brogue, but my affinity for it persevered.
I let my 13-year-old buy a lot of 24 Airsoft guns on Ebay. The lot ended up to cost him about $50, but with shipping he had to cough up a surprising (to him) $97 dollars. The whole lot is cruddy handguns capable of relatively short shooting distances ( evident from the sale description but the idea of owning 24 of them took hold of his fragile psyche). Their arrival has been an instant cure forhis Ebay fixation. And I have $97 to blow at Starbucks -- see number 2. Tough love that gets me coffee. I can live with it.
Speaking of the 13-year-old, he was Confirmed on a Thursday and turned 13 on the following Saturday. The juxtaposition of these two pictures amuses me:
His Uncle (husband's brother) is his sponsor -- and to the boy's credit, he took the whole thing very seriously and together he and his uncle really enjoyed the experience. Of course the other is the only picture I remembered to take of my baby on his 13th birthday. Crimeny.
Last week, husband asked me what I wanted for Mother's day. I told him absolutely nothing -- let's save the money for our vacation I told him. He didn't fall for it. Once before, when we were very young -- 2 or 3 years into our marriage I'd guess, he asked what I wanted for some holiday -- birthday maybe? I told him nothing, that I'd bought clothes, and he took me at my word. Not a card, not a cake, not even a wish. No acknowledgement of the day whatsoever... I let him know how I felt about that level of "nothing" and ever since then, he's a little touchy about holidays. Ok, I told him last week, flowers. That would be great. How about fruit, he asked. Fine.
The man in incapable of austerity. I'll keep him... even though he doesn't have a Scots accent. (What I also told him was that his being home for the day instead of in Saudi Arabia as he was supposed to be until the trip got postponed was gift enough...)

edited to add for Tracy: The painting is by a STL native, John Peg, and I own another of his. Husband found out where I got the first (for his birthday last year) and got this one because he knows I like Peg's style of painting. Again, I'll keep him.

The CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) group has started up again. My confession here is that I heaved a huge sigh of relief. Now I don't have to think about what's for dinner. What's for dinner is whatever they decided we should have. Did you note the key word there? They. The CSA people. The farmers. The powers that be. Not me. I'm a lazy cook. Scratch that... I'm a lazy shopper. I hate deciding from among the gazillion choices at the grocery store what to feed my family. I don't mind 20 steps to a recipe once I have the stuff, I just don't want to generate the menu. Tuesday night we had grilled trout with a lemon/parsely/white wine sauce, orzo with olive oil and parmesan cheese, brussels sprouts and bacon and cucumber salad. Some of that was from the CSA, some from the pantry, some from the grocery -- family ate it all. I just opened the fridge and freezer and cooked for 1/2 an hour. Ah. Freedom. Tonight? Swedish Meatballs (made with bison from Potosi, MO) over pasta.
My knitting has been as lazy as my cooking. The new Rowan came out, it had three patterns in it for yarn I own... I cast on for one of them. So much for the resolution that I'd work on a UFO when I finished a project. Well, to my credit, I didn't actually finish the Peace Fleece Sweater... I still have to finish the top of one sleeve. But the wool in my lap wasn't making me happy when the weather warmed up here so I'll finish it in time for him to wear it in the fall. Yeah... remind me, will ya?
The specifics? Rowan Magazine, #47. The sweater is called Relax. I'm more than half way thru the body and I've used 6 skeins of Summer Tweed, #544 Jardinier. The yarn is interesting -- lots of VM, but light and the knit hand is nice. I think it'll be fine. If I could read directions and follow them I'd be further along, but the requisite ripping back of the neckline has happened twice. Whatever. Current socks are magic loop, two at a time, garter rib from Sensational Knitted Socks, using Flat Feet sock yarn. I'd call this stuff knitterly. The fun is watching how the socks knit up in relation to the dyed blank. Paint drying holds more interest for the uninitiated, but sock knitters are fascinated when I pull these out at the shop. I kind of secretly love them, even though, as everyone who knows me has commented, the colors aren't my usual preference.

On now to a quiet day. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow ; )

Comments

Okay, as long as you're not lying in a ditch somewhere, a blog break is totally cool.

I'm with you on the cooking bit - the PLANNING is my downfall. How do I know in the morning or on Thursday what I'll want to eat in the evening or on Saturday? Sitting down and making a menu (then the shopping list) is the only way to go, for me... and even then I don't go there very often.

So, what's the story with the fruit painting?

Posted by: Tracy in SW WA | May 13, 2010 at 10:10 AM