So, you know that woman you occasionally see in the supermarket? The one who starts to babble about random personal issues if you accidently make eye contact with her? Well, I’m her. So watch out.
Category: life
Craptastic
While out and about today, I hit a major pothole going very fast sorta fast the exact speed limit and blew my tire out. Which meant I had to pull off a very busy highway into a ghetto not-so-nice busy downtown area and change a flat. This also meant I spent most of the time yelling at telling the children to stay in the car and that no, they may not get out and watch.
After I was finished with the tire and had secured the teeny tiny temporary donut in place, I got back onto the highway just in time to witness a hawk swoop under an overpass to capture a pigeon (cool), only to be struck and killed by the car in front of me a split-second later (not so cool). I drove past the poor pigeon, who’d miraculously survived the hawk and subsequent car strike, trying to limp away. It was unceremoniously squashed by the car behind me a few seconds later. I glimpsed the spray of feathers in my rear view mirror.
Sears didn’t have my tire, so I had to go to Goodyear, about 5 miles up the road from there. They didn’t have the tire either, but could get it from the warehouse. I waited the 2 hours in their lobby with my grumpy/hungry/tired kidlet. When I went up to pay, they told me that I’d damaged the wheel rim and would need a new one from the dealer.
On the way back to pick up the other kidlet, I decided to pick up some fast food. I had a severe IBS attack about 2 hours later.
There was some other stuff, which I’m not going to go into detail about, but you can rest assured that it was just as craptastic as the rest.
Here’s hoping that tomorrow is better.
Monday already?
And I haven’t posted since Wednesday? Sorry everyone. It’s not that I’m particularly busy, but I am trying to spend less time at the computer, so I guess it follows that there will be less time for blogging. The Internet can often be a gift (where else can you find such hilarious entertainments as David After Dentist or Kittens, Inspried by Kittens!!! ??). But I have, over the course of the last couple of months, developed a rather troubling pain in my left shoulder and arm that, according to my physical therapist, is likely related to my extensive computer usage.
This winter has been extremely long and very cold with a seemingly endless stretch of persistent and bitterly cold weather coupled with well timed winter storms that meant there has been snow on the ground almost continually since the middle of December. I find that I’ve been spending a lot of time at the computer and everything else in my life has suffered–the housework, my knitting, my Weight Watchers program, probably even the children. Last week, I canceled many of my rss feed subscriptions, including those for Buzzfeed and BoingBoing. I now find myself with more hours in the day for housework, knitting, writing and yoga (which I hope will help improve the hunched computer user’s posture I’ve developed over the last several months).
I’m so glad winter is almost finished.
Vodpod videos no longer available.
more about “MVI_0476 on Flickr – Photo Sharing!“, posted with vodpod
Scrabble, IRL.
Back in December, Mr. Interrupted participated in a local Scrabble tourney for newcomers. The night before he challenged to a practice game.
One of the great things about Scrabble is that you can knit while playing!
How to get Silly Putty out of hand knit socks
Step 1. Pour a little rubbing alcohol over an old, soft-bristled toothbrush.
Step 2. Rub the silly putty gently with the toothbrush until it comes off the sock.
Step 3. Wash the sock as you normally do.
Also, Dear Santa, please no more Silly Putty. kthxbai!
NYR09
It is tradition, here are Chez Interrupted, to post my New Year’s Resolutions. As I sit here today, reviewing previous posts and reflecting on the past year, I realize that this year’s resolutions are pretty much the same as last year’s, and the year before that. I guess that it’s easy, in a way, always trying to work on the same stuff, but does that really amount to improving myself?
Here’s my knitting to-do list for 2009
1. Finish my Master Knitter, level 1. (Only one swatch, the hat, and the written work left to do!)
2. Design and knit Mr. Interrupted’s Sweater of Rassilon. (Shouldn’t be too difficult. I’m planning on doing a seamless hybrid à la Elizabeth Zimmermann.)
3. Tackle Colorwork. (Time to finally get around to knitting Kate Gilbert’s Bird in Hand mittens.)
4. A lace shawl. (Kiri‘s been queued since November of 2007.)
And here’s my reading list for 2009 (I want to shoot for a book a month and am 3 books short. Any suggestions?)
Outliers: The Story of Success by Malcolm Gladwell
Zoe’s Tale by John Scalzi
Bad Monkeys by Matt Ruff
A Bad Spell in Yurt by C. Dale Brittain
Soon I Will Be Invincible by Austin Grossman
Wings of Wrath by C.S. Friedman
A Memory of Light (the final WoT book) by Brandon Sanderson
Water For Elephants by Sara Gruen (the first NaNo novel to be made into a feature film (now filming))
Little Brother by Cory Doctorow
Lastly, yoga. Yeah. I’ll get right on that.
What I needed was a witty retort.
On Sunday, Mr. Interrupted’s grandmother took us (including his 4 cousins, aunt, uncle, father, father’s wife, and one of the cousin’s bride-to-be) all out to have brunch at “The Club”. Now, there are two things you need to know. First, I am not a “The Club” person. I am descended from a long and proud line of emphatically blue collar folk. I may be the first person in my family history to ever have brunch at “The Club”. Second, no one told us we’d be going to brunch at “The Club” so I failed to pack appropriate “The Club” clothing for myself, the children, and Mr. Interrupted. He and I wore jeans and a nice top. The kids wore jeans and their snow boots. We arrived, feeling festive and ready to eat and socialize. After they took our drink orders, I took the boys up to the buffet line to get them some food. It was then that Some Woman approached me and said, “Excuse me, just so you know for next time, jeans are against The Club rules.” Of course I apologized and explained that I didn’t know we’d be coming to “The Club” today. It’s possible that I said something that sounded sarcastic like, “well, if I’d known…” Whatever. But after a while I realized that I felt really embarrassed about not having the proper attire and mortified that someone thought they had to tell me about it. I was so embarrassed that, since the dining area was filled with snooty, jacket-wearing “The Club” members, I didn’t go back to the buffet for more food, even though I was still hungry, or for any dessert, even though I really wanted to try their carrot cake which looked very sinful and delicious. I just felt too uncomfortable and unwelcome.
Now, a day later, I’m angry. I mean, why should I have to apologize for how I was dressed for gods’ sake? It’s not like I was all schlobby in torn sweat pants and a dirty tee-shirt. Geez. And I keep wishing I’d said something to that woman to turn the tables on her–to make her feel bad and embarassed, but I can’t think of anything appropriately scathing and hilarious. Any suggestions?
What is that old saying about revenge?
While I was out with the children yesterday, the cat did something really and truly heinous. He had nom’d one of Isaac’s newest and most highly prized toy, a small R/C helicopter. Mr. Interrupted caught him in the act, and immediately doled out what is likely an overly harsh sentence — a kitteh time-out in the bathroom. The helicopter is a complete and total loss, but can be easily replaced. Isaac was disappointed, but got over it soon enough. The bathroom, however, is another story. You see, at some point during his timeout, Doozer retaliated by peeing somewhere in the bathroom (rather than in the toilet where he usually goes).
The bathroom to which he had been confined is tiny, practically a closet, a water closet if you will, so it didn’t take much to really stink up the place. When I arrived home with the children in tow, the stink of cat urine was rather thick in there and spilling out into the rest of the house. I immediately removed the bathmat, which was the obvious place for him to have his feline revenge on us, but the acrid smell lingered. Then I mopped the floor, but to no avail. Resigned, I scrubbed every horizontal and vertical surface — the floor (again) the cabinets, all four walls, the shower stall, the toilet — and still the stench persisted!
Mr. Interrupted pressed upon me to retrieve a black light from the local Spencer’s Gifts, which I did, but no mystery spots were revealed by its velveteen otherworldly glow. As I backed out of the room, lighting the murky corners with the ultra violet light, eyes straining for even the barest hint of the florescent smoking gun, I caught in the corner of my eye a glimpse of Doozer, taking a shit in my shoe. Feline revenge, apparently, is a dish best served stinky.
Ah, yes…
I’ve just finished putting away the Thanksgiving leftovers and am sitting here, enjoying a cup of coffee and the last couple of bites of E3’s pumpkin pie. I must say that I’m quite tickled with myself. The ginormous bird was roasted to juicy perfection. The stuffing, cooked in the crockpot with the turkey’s wingtips and tail, was delightfully deletable. The gravy, made with giblet broth (but no giblets) and turkey drippings, was velvety and flavorful. The green salad was cool and crisp, a perfect complement the savory warmth of the other dishes. All in all, it was probably the best Thanksgiving meal I’ve ever made. Sadly, there are no pictures. The entire meal had been consumed before it occurred to me to document it in photographic posterity. Oh well.
There’s another reason today is a special day. Today is I’s 7th birthday.
How is it even possible? I can’t believe he’s seven already! Isaac had a pretty good year. He learned how to tie his shoes this year, and how to ride a bicycle (skipping over training wheels entirely). He has really started getting a handle on reading and math and we earned that, for I7, the number zero is really really red, the color of fire, and that the larger a number is, the greener it is.
Anyhow, happy Thanksgiving to all my bloggy buddies and long distance friends. I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving! (And a happy birthday if today also happens to be your birthday, hah!)
Thinking of Spring Pasta Bake
The stars must have been aligned–this dish was a huge hit at our house tonight.
I riffed on this recipe featured on the Rachael Ray show today. All of the ingredients came from Trader Joe’s. Here’s how I did it:
1. Prepare one pound of dried tortellini pasta according to the package directions.
2. While the pasta is cooking, steam one package of frozen asparagus and then puree.
3. Make Rachael’s béchamel sauce (omit garlic by accident and instead use one part vegetable broth and one part fat-free milk). Add pureed asparagus.
4. Toss the now very very green sauce with the pasta to coat.
5. Brown a package of tomato/basil chicken sausages (squeezed from their casings and crumbled) and add to the pasta and sauce, stirring gently.
6. Pour into a baking dish and cover with TJ’s Quattro Formaggio (about 1/2 a package). Bake at 375° for about 15 minutes until the cheese is browned and the sauce is bubbly.
I6 ate all of what he was served. E3 had two servings. Karl snarfed up a huge bowl. Angels sang.
Now it’s back to NaNoWriMo for me.
Knitting Interrupted 
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