Um. yeah. Life is somewhat draining lately - work situation is again something of which I may not speak, etc. Hard to blog when so much is not blogworthy. So I saved it all up for one big weekend edition! Sorry.
It has finally hit me last weekend that I really am middle-aged, and I'm starting to act it. I had to laugh at myself - I was wearing one of those "Miraclesuit" black tank suits (I call it my manatee costume) and floating in the pool with my glasses on, and a glass of wine sitting on the deck - occasionally swimming a few lazy laps on my back, without bothering to take off the glasses - and realized that I was acting just like one of the "older ladies" - chatting in the water instead of getting exercise, not even bothering to take off my eye makeup or glasses. Oh shit, I AM old! :-)
Cousin C is enjoying her new laptop, and next time I visit we will buy a wireless printer and add MS Office, so she will really be up and running in the 21st century. I am not going to wait six months between visits - I may go back for a quick visit soon. I even bought two new tankinis on sale for the express purpose of using her pool.
I must share my bathing suit story, because we are all friends here, and nobody else will ever stumble upon this blog - oops. (waves to the entire Internet, future dates and potential employers!) Oh well, whatever. My archives are unedited, why worry now?
As I said, I have one of those "Miraclesuits" - and I figured out why they call it that. Not because it miraculously gives you a miraculously improved body - it just has a double layer of fabric in front, and bulletproof bra cups. It's your basic Old Lady Suit re-branded for the Baby Boomers. I hate the damn thing but it's the only suit I've bought in the last decade, so it goes to Cousin C's when I visit. But I now know why they call it a Miraclesuit - if you get it wet and have to use the bathroom, it will take a friggin' miracle to get the damn thing back on again! It rolled down into a wad of sticky layers, and I swear to God I was standing in the bathroom and I couldn't figure out how to untwist it - it's all black, and heavy and wet, and the inner layer and the bulletproof bra cups had somehow wound around the outer layer of the suit, and it all stuck to itself, and was just plain nasty. Fortunately, my yoga pants and t-shirt were in the bathroom with me, so I just decided I'd had enough swimming and changed. When I got home from Cousin C's I was motivated to buy a couple of conservatively cut tankinis - must be able to go potty and then get back in the pool if I want. I am at peace with my 51 year old body - it's not what it could be, because I am tired and unmotivated, but it's not that damn far gone yet.
I'm loving the iPod Touch I got for my birthday! I'm listening to a really great audio book - "The Help" by Kathryn Stockett. It's set in Jackson, MS at the start of the civil rights movement, and is about the interactions of the rich young white women and the black maids who take care of their homes - the writing is sharp and wonderful, and the audio production of it is particularly fantastic, with different voices for each of the main characters, who tell their parts of the story in their own chapters. I'm only a few chapters in and I LOVE the characters. It'd be a great read of course, but if you are an Audible addict, I highly recommend it.
I ripped the feather and fan in black Euroflax - I got about six inches into it and started questioning my judgment. So I hit Ravelry for inspiration, and lo, the wonderful Clara Parkes has a no-brainer shawl recipe that I had to try! the Ravelry link.
The Knitter's Review link for the non-Ravelers.
No photo of the shawl itself yet, because it's a small wedge of black linen and doesn't look like anything. So instead, you get a photo of my houseguest, whose eye only rolls out like that when he's freaked out:
That is his "Oh SHIT! I forgot Grandma had this weird obsession with taking pictures!" face. He's visiting because Murphy and I are in the doldrums and Girlchild's back is hurting, and it just seemed like a good time for a sleepover. Dudley brings laughter and good cheer, and also explosive gas, wherever he goes.
I'll try to do better on this blogging thing in the coming week, but I'm not making any promises.