Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Auntie Em! Auntie Em!
Last night the wind really kicked up, and our sunshade/gazebo/screen thingy took a beating. I was worried the sides would rip so we tied them back with extra rope. The wind was MOVING IT ACROSS THE PATIO. It took four grunting, sweating, and swearing adults to move that thing one inch over. That wind moved it like it was an empty cardboard box. And it came up very fast. One minute it was breezy, the next we were hanging onto that thing like a bucking bronco in the middle of lightning and a down pour. More of that sideways rain that goes right into your ear. Getting wet is bad, getting wet inside your ear is just icky. Like an environmental "wet willy". The wind calmed down once the really heavy rain (!) started, and the thing stopped galloping across the patio like a skittish pony. I was glad for that. Of course, this reinforces the fact that my darling husband has still not attached this thing to the concrete and it could just as well have ended up on my car. But we won't think about such things. So I have to travel next week for work. Chicago. And it is going to be hot. Every time I go there it is either hot enough to steam steel or cold enough to stick to it. Just once I would like to go there in TEMPERATE weather. You know, the kind where you can wear your nice business clothes without sweating through them or having to wear a parka on top and change from your mukluks to dress shoes a hundred times a day. But I guess I can't be choosey ALL the time. Well, I can be choosey but I can't always get my way. Did I just say that? Pretend you didn't hear it. DD is NOT pleased that I have to go away for an entire week. Not at all, no sir. And I don't think Ruby will like it much either. How is she going to sleep, without my head to rest her chin on? Poor thing LOL. DH is not impressed either, but this is part of my job so he has to accept it. If I want the perks of being able to work from home and make my own hours, I have to travel from time to time and sometimes for extended periods. Tonight I have to try on my "good" clothes and see if anything still fits. Cross your fingers for me, will ya. In fact, maybe it would be better if we all collectively held our breath and sucked our guts in. Every millimeter helps. Do you think they will notice if I wear the same shoes every day? I only have one pair of summer dress shoes. They are nice and relatively new, but do people notice these things? Perhaps I should think about employing the "dazzle them with excess cleavage" routine to take the attention off my shoes and the straining waist band on my pants. But on to bigger questions. What knitting shall I take with me? ROFL. I like to knit/crochet in the airport, on the plane, and in quiet moments after work. No cats to taste the yarn, no dog to lie on my WIP (work in progress), no daughter performing feats of danger and whimsy to get my attention. No husband picking at me about the balls of yarn and scrap ends and piles of DPNs all over the house. In northern areas, where there are vast expanses of land, water, and ice - and few people - nomads made small piles of rocks called inukshuks to show where they had been, and tell other roamers the way. It was their way of saying "I was here" without spray paint or brick walls. I like to think of my little piles as my personal inukshuks. A few scraps of various yarns, some DPNs. A tape measure and maybe even a cup half full of cold coffee. A few folded and faded pages of a pattern I printed from the internet. These are the things that say DANCES WAS HERE. They are proofs of my existance in this household and are unmistakeably mine. When others come this way they see these piles and know for sure that I was there. Or.............. I am a slob. But the other thing is much more poetic. Besides, if we can have barbie dolls (DD) and working replicas of light sabers (DH) in every room, then what is a bit of yarn here and there? It just popped into my mind, so I better get it down before it percolates back into the recesses of my brain and is lost forever.....what the heck would posess my cat to poke my toe with her teeth at precicely 6am four days running???? Not BITE my toe. A toe bite I could understand. Wiggly feet under covers make dandy cat toys. But to press her face to my foot so that her protruding fang can POKE my big toe. Always the same foot, always 6am. Once I am awake, she dances away in typical Xena fashion. She is just so odd. We don't "get" her most of the time. But she seems to enjoy herself, which is, I guess, the important thing. Wouldn't want a cat to be BORED would we? DH says to start sleeping with my feet UNDER the covers. Insert eye roll here. Men just don't get it, do they? I told him that all whores sleep with their feet out of the covers, which shut him up pretty quick.