Sunday, July 19, 2009
"A" for Effort
Thursday, July 16, 2009
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Thursday, April 23, 2009
I'm Kira. I'm trouble. I love you, Daddy. Happy Birthday.
So I go to bed last night and because it was 11:30, the timer had shut off the livingroom lamp already and the place was pitch black dark. I get to the bedroom and I have my poodle, Rooty (waiting for me in bed) but no Kira. I figure she’s drinking water, or finding a bone to bring to bed, which she does almost every night.
I head into the bathroom to wash my face and take my eyes out. I come out and still no Kira. I call her. No response. I call her a few more times in several different voices, still no Kira.
I’m now thinking she’s been bad and wants to hide from me, so she probably peed or pooped downstairs and is hiding in her bed, so I turn the lights back on and head downstairs to get her so I can go to bed, and so can she.
I find her in between the coffee table and couch, on the floor, completing wrapped up in my knitting – fine, double-stranded blue lace weight yarn along with the three double pointed needles and the 4-inches of knitting I’d started earlier while watching The Devil Wears Prada. Evidently she got caught in the strands of yarn dangling from the coffee table when she jumped off the couch to follow me up to bed.
She just stood there, frozen, in the dark, looking at me with the most sad, pathetic look I’ve ever seen. Like a big, white fly in a spider’s web. It was the funniest thing I've ever seen, but I tried not to laugh because I absolutely think she was embarrassed - maybe humiliated.
So it, took a minute, but I managed to untangle her and carry her upstairs where she bounced like Tigger all over the bed. No knit stitches were lost, no knots were created. All is well.
I sent this as an email to Dave who has to be away today for his birthday. We'll celebrate on Saturday, but today is dedicated to him just the same. Hurry home. We miss you.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Back from Easter Weekend
No it's not apples, it's radishes.
Nothing says spring like radishes - among other things. I cut some really fresh crusty bread and spread it with really expensive, and delicious French, unsalted butter, and then topped it with thinly sliced radish moons. Then I sprinkled it lightly with one of those finishing salts we're all hearing about from the Foodies and voila. I can't believe how something so incredibly simple can be so unbelievably delicious. You really taste the butter - even though only a little was used, and I must give that radish its credit, because it has a distinct brilliance all its own. Generally a casual after thought, or a passed-over salad item, I think radishes can really hold thier own in a case like this. And in spring they are bright and crisp and peppery tasting. Give it try.
Friday, April 3, 2009
A Bubble Pouch
The bubble pouch was the object of my affection yesterday afternoon. I hadn't been sewing for awhile - still trying to get over the last bag I made, but it was time.
Kicking March to the Curb
So this was in my driveway yesterday. Just when I thought spring would never come, the daffodils have long shrivelled, and I thought it would just stay gray and cold forEVA, Mother Nature spots me a little hope.
My man comes home tonight after a LOOONG two weeks on the road. He's the rock star of his company and flies in wearing his "Electrical Man" tights - okay no tights, maybe a cape in the shape of a tie - and fixes problems. This one's particularly challenging, but he's coming home and that's all I care about today.

