Thursday, December 29

My Kinda Purl

I apologize in advance for those of you who don't knit in the continental style - if you knit with the working yarn in your right hand, this tutorial will still work, but keep in mind that you're holding the yarn differently.

I refuse to apologize for All Knitting All the Time. Well, ok. But only a little.

1. Insert Stick. Yarn in front of work.

2. Bring yarn under and around the stick, back to front.

3. Push yarn through stitch on left stick. Much the same way you do a knit stitch. Only you're pushing instead of pulling through.

4. Pull the stitch off the left stick. That's a purl!

Day From Hell: Part 824

And that's not the half of it.

My day was absolutely atrocious. No one was nice. I take that back - there were just enough nice people to let me know I wasn't in a nightmare. Otherwise, I might have thought I was having a dream about customer service hell.

Then our computers locked up. Whee!

It was awful.

Then I came home, settled in, and was finally getting my sense of humor back about the day, when I got sick. I couldn't quite believe it when on Christmas day at Terri's house, Bruce got sick in the space of five minutes, but now I have proof. My head, for example. Apparently, all of the fluids inside have lost the battle. All at once. And solidified.

Urgh. Blech. Snorfle.

This is bad.

Wednesday, December 28

"What? Why you look at me as though I am up to somezink?"

Notice the dark intent behind the eyes. See how he studies the string.

He tries to contain his glee when his lightning-quick paws finally get the yarn.

"Finally! I have the string! See, mama? This knitting thing is not so hard. I can do it too!"

And this is the look he gives me when I take it away.

No-Ladder Sock Knitting

[This is probably not useful unless you're in the habit of knitting with double-pointed needles. You can skip it if you want.]

When you reach the end of the first needle and are starting to knit on the second, I have found a few things that help reduce the ladder that can sometimes form. We want to avoid the ladder at all costs, right? Here's how I do it.

[Click on the image to see more detail.]

Knit the first stitch on the second needle. After you've knit it, make sure that there is no length of yarn between the stitches on the two needles. You will check this again after the second stitch. As you can (maybe) see, the second needle is behind the first while I make the first stitch. This helps eliminate the yarn that stretches between the needles.

[Click on the image to see more detail.]

[Click on the image to see more detail.]

When you've knit the second stitch on the second needle, place them next to the stitches on the first needle, and pull the yarn taut. We want to make sure that the length of yarn between the first and second needle is gone completely before we continue knitting on the second needle.

[Click on the image to see more detail.]

This is the only way I've been able to get rid of ladders completely when knitting in the round with double-pointed needles. If you know of a better way, please let me know! I'm always happy to learn new techniques.

I put this up because frankly, it would have been helpful when I was first starting. I figure, it's probably going to help someone, right?

Tuesday, December 27

Merry Christmas, Self!

I had a feeling it might be in bad taste to post the fantastic bits of yarn I purchased for myself right around Christmas, but I think right about now, everyone is reeling with the after-holiday blues. You all might just need a pick-me-up.

It occurs to me that unless you're a big fan of yarn, you might not be as picked up by this as I am, but to hell with it. It's my blog, damnit.

Look at that. Doesn't it just make your heart hurt? (Or maybe that's just all the coffee..)

And look! It has a friend! How lovely and lacy and pink she is!

Uh-oh. Looks like somebody got a little too friendly, doesn't it?

They make a fine little family, don't they? I think so.

That's just one for the road, people. Isn't it beautiful?

Sunday, December 25

Hard Times

It's the name of my favorite coffee shop in Minneapolis.

Some of my friends are passing through Hard Times right now. I wish I meant my favorite coffee shop, which though not for the faint of heart by any means, is a butterfly landing softly on a daisy on the mildest of mild spring days, with fresh air all around and dew still on it's petals. It's puppy dogs and kitty cats and sugar and spice - as you can see, I'm being facetious. It's not Starbucks, people. But what I'm saying here is that it's a great alternative to the pain my friends are facing.

I wish them the best in life.

I can't tell you how strong and brave they are being, because it's impossible to articulate. They have so much to give the world, and I hope neither one of them loses their humor, their strength, or their kind-hearted nature in the struggles ahead. I wish them a smooth transition. (As smooth as transitions ever can be.) I wish them well.

I ask you all to wish them well.

Saturday, December 24

Letter to Santa

Santa Claus
North Pole, Earth

Dear Santa,

I have been a good girl.
It really wasn't my fault what happened at Lisa's Office party. It was
Cam who spiked the punch with too much Budweiser Select. I can't help
it if I drank 45 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just
like skunk.

I thought it was funny when I put Lisa's pants on my head and danced
the polka on the chair while singing `Mary Had a Little Lamb'. I
didn't mean to break Lisa's vibrator and don't know why Lisa would
accuse me of murder.

I don't remember calling Jason's wife a smelly piglet---even though
she looked like one with lilac eye shadow and peuce lipstick!

And when I threw up on Joyce's husband's nostril, it was only because
I ate too much of that biscuits and gravy.

After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on
my way home and drove my chevy nova through my neighbor's attic. I
don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a whiskery
kangaroo and have me arrested for rape!

So, I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all stinky
and fat. And I'm really not to blame for any of this papery stuff.
Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!

Sincerely and unfortunately yours,
Sarah (Really a nice girl!)

P.S. It's only 897 bucks!

[You can do
it too!

Friday, December 23

Warning: Feminine Stuff Ahead.

Do not venture further unless you are comfortable with the female body and it's functions.

I was at Little Miss Knit's blog tonight, and I came across an interesting article she'd linked to. It started an interesting discussion about womens' bodies and how we feel about our period as a whole. What do you think?

I brought my responce over here, because it got pretty long and I wanted your opinions*:

"I guess I'm against the majority here, but I'd totally do it. I don't believe that in order to be a womanly woman I need to bleed from the crotch once a month. No offense to those women who enjoy it, but I don't. At all.

I haven't read all the studies there are about this particular drug, but a pharmacist once told me that most of the pills in Europe are designed so the women who take them only get 4 periods a year. According to her (and she was around when this was happening), they did a survey of some people (mostly doctors) and asked them which option - periods once a month or four times a year - the US population would prefer, and more doctors (at that time mostly men) claimed that women here like having our periods. That's how she explained it to me.

(Warning, non-medical content ahead) I also don't think that women were necessarily designed to have our periods as often as we do now. For most of our history, women have been either pregnant or nursing for most of their fertile lives, and most pregnant or nursing women don't have their periods every month. Again, this isn't strictly medical, it's more an idea I hold because I like to think about things too much. Take it as you will - I'm not in a research mode tonight.

I don't have debilitating periods, but it's sure as hell inconvenient and if there were a completely safe alternative that would not affect my future fertility, I would absolutely take it.

I also should state for the record that I'm absolutely not disgusted with my bodily fluids, I'm not religious, I don't feel "dirty", I'm not uncomfortable with myself, I just don't like buying new underwear."

*Also, I don't like having written this much and not having it on my blog. It's something I've given a lot of (probably too much) thought to, and I want to know how you girls feel about it. Please, let me know!

Aaaand... We Have Christmas!

Bruce and I are notoriously weak. We are also practically heathens, so it shouldn't surprise anyone that we were very quick to talk each other into opening our gifts last night.

That's right, we're going straight to hell!

I'm not sure if you realize this, but people like us get a special hell. We're going to be spending eternity with a group of people who didn't show the proper respect for the birth of their savior by waiting until his birthday to lavish one another with presents. We're roasting for all of eternity with people who said, literally, "Aw, fuck it! I want my presents now!"

In any case, I've got some lovely things to show you. Turns out, we're pretty good at this whole 'presents' thing. Check this out:

That's the face of a happy guy who's just opened this:

And check out her face:

Ok, maybe that's more of a "Gee, I always wanted a vacuum," face. Witness:

Here she is trying to make peace with the vacuum. See how she carefully arranges her expression into one that isn't filled with rage? She even introduced it to the cat:

I think our subject is making excellent progress.


What? You don't believe me? Damn. Ok, ok. I got something other than a vacuum for Christmas...

Even Linus didn't believe me.

I need to work on my lying. What else have I been working on? Oh, how kind of you to take notice! You see, I finished my sock, and now I can take a picture of it!

Isn't it pretty? Since I'm finished with the broadripple one, I thought I should start a completely different pair - the pattern was really starting to get on my nerves, and as I've mentioned before, the color is so not me. I figure, after I'm done with this sock, I'll probably be sick of it, so I can start on the second sock for the first pair. That's me, always thinking. Here's another shot of the sock I've given up on taken a break from:

So I cast on my first toe-up socks, using Wendy's great pattern. It may seem like I'm jumping into things, what with only having completed one wearable sock ever before switching styles completely, but I'm really liking it. No toe to dread at the end - this should be great. Oh, and the yarn? It's much more my style. Check it out!

[Don't you just love how I can do that now? I sure do!]

Here's another shot. Completely gratuitous. I can do this now!


PS: Linus, when Uncle Daddy checks my blog, you'd better run before he sees this:

Thursday, December 22

Merry Christmas*, Linus!

*I say Merry Christmas instead of Happy Holidays because I'm pretty sure that, although basically agnostic like us, Linus appreciates the whole "getting presents" aspect to the holiday. And the lights. And the wrapping paper. I'm pretty sure he's a Christmas sort of cat.

This year, your gift is a submission to KittenWar, where you will be judged every day to determine your cuteness. You're totally going to win. I debated between a few shots of you, I eventually chose everyone's favorite. That's right, the one where you look like you're debating the cultural signifigance of fine literature.

(That same everyone can go to your stats page as soon as you're approved, and see if everyone else agrees with them.)

This kittenwar thing isn't really my cuppa, I can't vote for one kitten without feeling bad and then regretting my decision. Poor not-as-cute kitten! I should have voted for him instead! If he knew what statistics were or cared whether people thought he was cuter than other kittens, why, he'd be crushed!

Submitting Linus was a really bad idea, wasn't it?

Shame on Me

Do you have any blogs that you read that you know for a fact you
wouldn't like the person in person, and sometimes its not very
pleasant to read them, but they've got such interesting things going
on that you can't help it? I do.

For shame, Sunny.

Wednesday, December 21

Uncle Daddy

Bruce and I had a fine night of drinking a few weeks ago. After watching some TV, and falling asleep momentarily on the couch, I woke up and brought him to bed with me.

Bruce has a drunken love of cuddling the household feline that borders on obsession. The household feline doesn't appreciate this love, and tries to avoid Bruce when he smells like beer. It usually doesn't work, and he ends up yowling his protests as Bruce snuggles him to his chest and coos at him. It's pretty darn funny to witness, let me tell you.

As Linus was struggling to be freed that night, he scratched Bruce's arm and slipped away. Bruce was distraught, calling after him, "Come back to Uncle.. snores softly.. Daddy.."

I sat bolt upright in bed, laughing hysterically. "Did you just call yourself 'Uncle Daddy'?!"

Have Read:


Linda Roghaar and Molly Wolf, editors

Aside from a soft click-clack from the needles, knitting is mostly a silent medium.

Spin Cycle (a novel)

by Sue Margolis
"Rachel Katz lifted the mike off it's stand and jerked the lead away from her feet."

Soul Music

by Terry Pratchett

"This is a story about memory. And this much can be remembered..."

Monday, December 19

We Welcome a New Baby!

Here's a shot of his diapers...

Here's a close-up of his sweet little face...

I'm so excited! And yet, on the other hand, it's occuring to me that this might be Bruce's way of getting me a vaccum for Christmas without actually getting me a vaccum for Christmas, if you know what I mean.

We have a system in which I tell him what not to do, and he avoids doing those things. (Yeah, you think that sounds bad, but really it's much more reasonable - and nicer - than telling him what to do.) I feel like less of a Mean Mommy when I just warn him against doing things like buying me household cleaning supplies for presents. I'm just not that into cleaning, dude. I've no doubt that some of you are tickled pink to get an iron for your birthday, and more power to you. But I know myself pretty well, and I know that no matter how much I wanted that iron, all I would think after gleefully tearing off the wrapping paper is, "Jesus Gay, he doesn't think I iron enough." Which may or may not be true - but I don't want to even think about the possibility of an implication that I might not do enough ironing on my birthday. You know?

So I told Bruce a few weeks ago that although we've been wanting/needing a vaccum for.. well, as long as I've lived here, at least.. not to get me one for Christmas. He emailed me today and mentioned that we have enough money in the bank to get one, and asked if I would mind picking one up. "Sure," says naive little me. "Great idea!"

Last night we were laying in bed and I asked him if he had bought my present yet. I told him I wanted to know because if I check the bank account, I don't want to see the name of the store he went to giving it away. He told me he thought he'd found a way around that, and that I would have to wait and see what he meant.

And today he sends me to the store for the vaccum. Coincidence? Let's hope so. For his sake.

And, because I know you're just dying to see it, here's the cutest little baby you ever did see...

Isn't he pweshus? I thought so too.

Friday, December 16

I Have a KnitKnackery for Trouble

I suppose that hour 1+ is when one should really give up on trying to contact a friend, but my trend goes toward attempts to contact said friend relentlessly until they either a)answer the phone already, b)send me an instant message of some sort, c)tell me they are no longer interested in my aquaintance, or d)pigs fly and donkeys sing musical numbers to rival my (very musical) little brother. I Never Give Up.

It doesn't help that we got a phone call inviting us out to Schultz and Dooley's (area karaoke bar) upon the friend's finishing up some things she had to do, only to get no phone call announcing the end of things she had to do. I'm in one of those states where I reconciled not going out by thinking, "At least Lisa said she'd be online, and now I'll be home to talk to her." Bah. I will, however, make her feel extra-guilty by telling everyone who reads this to please visit her blog and read it. And then please leave her some comments, so she feels popular. She deserves more readers than she has currently. (Does rearranging that last sentance make me anal? Was it even wrong in the first place to say, "than she currently has"? I never could figure out what a preposition was.)

In knitting knews (and I know you were all waiting with bated breath for this one), I've turned the heel and finished the decreases for the foot on a sock. I can show you a picture of the sock, but it won't look anything like the sock I've been knitting, because I still don't have a digital camera (hint hint *coughMERRYCHRISTMASSARAH,HAVEADIGITALCAMERAcough* hint). It's a solid color, unlike any of the other pictures I've been able to find online. Picture this:

In a cranberry/mulberry color. It's really not my sort of color, and I'm pretty sure that's why I've cast on two other projects while slowly plodding away at this one. Here's a picture of the color:

As you can see, really not quite my thing. But! Someone else will love it. And maybe if they're done in time, I can gift them away next Christmas. Is it wrong to give away your first pair of functional socks? (The one on the project page is unacceptable, I've decided. Much too small for human feet. Someone could have pointed that out.. but I don't blame you.)
I've given up on knitting anything else for IT (see The Yarn Harlot's blog for further explanation of IT), because the thrill of knitting for family diminishes tenfold when there's a timeline and a huge grinning skeleton of a deadline looking you square in the eyes and taunting you. The Christmas Knitting, it is not to be taken lightly. The Christmas Knitting, it is much easier to back out of when there is nothing promised. The Christmas Knitting, (the one thing I did promise and actually complete), it is needing to be mailed out before the recipient takes off on a crazy european adventure later this month.

So! What have you been up to?


I scoured the earth, and finally found it - the perfect man gift.

(Actually, come to think of it.. I want one, too.)

Thursday, December 15

Luckily, the Title of that Post is "Sober"

Of course, I think that's like calling yourself 'honest'. If it's true, you wouldn't feel the need to tell everyone about it.

So, the 5th sentance of my twenty-third post is:

"Also, Lisa's sister's husband's brother is totally acting weird."

I'm really happy it turned out to be something so profound, something that speaks to what this blog is all about.

There you go, Jim.

Now, everybody who hasn't done this and reads my blog and feels like they don't have anything to post about today, uh.. do this. If you feel like it, I mean.

Wednesday, December 14

Listen Up, Everybody*!

[*Everybody with cable televison.]

Hey, have you been watching Project Runway? If not, well, damnit, you should. It's ten times better than The Amazing Race (Craptastic Family Edition), and it's all about fashion and creativity and it has the added bonus of rampant flamboyancy that I just know you're craving. At least, I am..

If so, can we have a little chat? Who do you think is going to be in the final three? I already have a set list in my head - who do you think will make the cut?

I'm going say

  1. The Egomaniac will definitely make it to the final three - because not only has he done some fantastic work already, he's got a Wendy Pepperesque 'bitchy' that they probably will keep in for the drama.
  2. Mr. Fantastic will be making it to the finals - he's classy, thoughtful, and on top of fashion. My prediction is that he will continue to lay low until the final few shows, and then bring out the big guns.
  3. And my prediction is for Seasoned Professional to win. He's already shown himself to be an awesome designer, and a good sport to boot. For example, during tonight's judging he told Santino that they should "just give it to him". I'm loving this guy.

I hope these guys really get to battle it out in the finals. If none of them totally drop the ball, I could see this happening - my only question is whether Bravo will feel like they need to include a woman in their final choices. In my opinion, the women have really been doing crappy so far, but maybe they'll pick things up in time to make it. So far, only Little Miss Two-Face has really shown any real potential - and that's giving her more than I really think she's worth. To be honest, I didn't even like the dress she won with, but then again, I'm just Average Joe, not a fashionista by any means.

This outfit, on the other hand, is pure fashion gold. (I would post the link to tonight's outfit, but they haven't put it online yet. Bravo employs slackers, hahaha. Please don't sue me, Bravo, that was a joke. You can tell by the hillarity.)

So, in conclusion, watch this show! It's great fun, there's lots of gay conflict and crying and fun fashion stuff. Also, this season we get to watch with bated breath for the moment that Heidi Klum's stomach bursts at the freaking seams. (Is it just because she's so skinny? Or is she really ready to pop?) Plus it's only one night away from Tuesday, and I just know you're looking for an Amazing Race replacement. SJ, please?

Don't Faint on Me, But..

I cleaned the bathroom! I know, I know.. that goes against my "no housekeeping" rule, but you see, things have been a little different lately. For example, last Friday, B and I rearranged the living room - and man, it looks spiffy! For some magical mystery reason, moving the bookcase to the wall by the door and moving the couches to mirror-images of where they used to be has made our living room look inviting! It's a Festivus Miracle!

(The day before Halloween, Lisa and I both came down with a nasty, horrible, sore-throat-and-phlegm sort of cold. We were miserable and depressed, because we just knew we wouldn't be able to get as stumbly-drunk as we wanted to while not being able to breathe through our noses. Then, on Halloween morning (or, more precisely, Saturday Before Halloween Morning), we both woke up feeling just fine. When I went over to her house to get ready for the rowdy drunk, I proclaimed it a Halloween Miracle!)

Anyway, now that our apartment is looking like a place I might actually spend some time even if I weren't forced to by paying the rent and all, I decided to do a half-assed job cleaning the bathroom. You know, wipe the counters, clean the toilet, windex the mirror. (And then completely ignore the cat box and the floor.) You wouldn't believe the difference just the mirror made. Now I can see myself! (The downside, of course, is now I can see the grease stains on my tee-shirt.)

Now all I need to do (besides the litter box and floor, obviously) is take a used fabric softener sheet to the faucet. Because it makes them shiney. Did you know that? Did you? Try it, just rub it on there! It's another Festivus Miracle! And of course this helps with the Cardinal Rule of Cleaning, when all else fails, make the shiney things shinier. It brightens up the whole room, I swear. (It also helps if the floor isn't crunchy with cat litter, but that might only be a problem in this household.)

Tuesday, December 13

Dear Bruce,

I figured out where you are. Linus is going effing nuts.

I woke up at around 8:30 (probably heard you leave) and Linus was being a little bastard - jumping up on the bed just to bite me and then running away. I called out a few helpless "BRUCE"es, all the while wondering why you were up so early on a Sunday (I was positive it was Sunday), before I got up to look for you. I saw the office door was closed and didn't want to bother you, and so I went back to bed.

Linus kept on keeping on with his bastard self, however - I swear, he was specifically aiming to wake me up - and so I came into the computer room to look for you. I was really confused when I couldn't see you anywhere. Then it hit me - you must be gone for breakfast. My wonderful sweet husband went to get us breakfast on Sunday. This is why I married you. I went back to sleep.

A few seconds later, I woke up and realized it was Tuesday.


Saturday, December 10

Did You Know its Pronounced "Meem"? Me Neither...

Sexy Untamed Nonconformist Nicely Yielding Fantastic, Naughty Delights and Arousing Yeses

I stole that from NowhereGirl - note the fine shortening of Freaking to F'n. That's one of my proudest moments.

Friday, December 9

LEt's see.. What was I GOing to POST about?

Oh yeah, snot. (Re-read = SNOW.) Stow is awesome and not to be argued with. Me lovey snow. Blah, blah-blah, blay, me might be drunk. Spelling errors are part of the price you pay for PURE AMUSEMENT, BAYBEE.

I love snow. I had no idea of it's powers before I moved below the Mason-Dixon line. Really, it's all-powerful and magnificent and all cars with-or-without four-wheel-drive should bow down to it. Especially those with - those fuckers really need to know how to bow down. (If they know what's good for them.) Seriously, though, I bit down on my.. mouth-piece-like rubber-grippy.. full of fiance and bore my way through the past year, all the while thinking, "Only one more year.. only one more month, only six more months, only two more months, only until we both have jobs and save adequate amounts of money to move.. etc, etc, etc.." all last winter long, withstanding at the worst several half-hearted flurries. Then, out of the clear blue sky, we get a snow that not only lasts the morning, it stays long enough to make me suspect I might just have to scrape my windshield in the morning before work! Glory be! I am in hog heaven!

I love snow. I never knew how much my life was defined by the cycles of snow until I moved to the Ozarks (Where snow only comes 3 times a year! And melts within fifteen minutes! Of falling!). I always thought I was one of those fine people who decided early on that they were destined for higher things, better horizons, places without snow. And yet I wake up upon a snot(w)-fall and burst into tears at the beauty and tranquility of it all. I never claimed to be a strong person, people. It was all implied. Sorry for the deception.


I've accepted and embraced the fact that I will never be the type of blogger who writes about one thing per post and then gets >100 comments on how articulate she is about that one topic. I've embraced it, actually. But! It still eats at me.. perhaps I was not meant for writing! Whatever will I do with my life then? Probably, I'll just sit around and eat things and ponder how useless I am, like usual. Don't you hate it when bloggers do that? Whine about how useless their blogging is, and how their lives should have some grand purpose that they're clearly not fulfilling by being a blogger? And how they can't string two words together, especially when you've read their blogs a lot, and seen them string many, many words together without issue? Me too! I hate those whiney bloggers, too! How annoying I'm being!

In other news, I turned on my Yahoo! Messenger! tonight, and just managed to catch one of my exes online. I have a teensy feeling he has been avoiding me. Or it might just be the two (2, count them, TWO.. ONE.. TWO) children he's created since he last talked with me. Which, I might be hesitant to add, were I not completely ignorant of his need for privacy, is TWO MORE than when I last spoke with him. Three years ago, people. By Jesus, that's some potent mother-fucking sperm. (On a very UnCatholic note, Thank JEEBUS we (despite using the Old Trusty Method of birth control, were not "blessed" with children. Among other things, I don't want the father of my children to be braindead by pot by the time he's eighteen. He did look like a hockey player, though, and that's a definate plus.

Or it was, when I was twenty-two.

My more important ex, the one who was with me for three years (no illegitamate children, might I add) is engaged (or married, who can keep track?). My exes have been Getting It On, people. And you know what? Surprisingly, although I have been notorious for my insane jealousy about my exes to date, I am feeling positively awash in warm, fuzzy glows for them. They are amazing, awesome people, and they totally deserve to have two children/be engaged(married), respectively.

Mike Price is another story, and one that deserves more time than this drunken attention-span will allow.

Perhaps if I get enough comments, and perhaps if they are good, post-encompassing comments, I might be persuaded to post all about FUCKING MIKE when the time allows? Probably, as I am a comment-whore. But let me know you want it, people. It's the only way I can get it done.

I Love You All, Because I Am Drunk.

Thursday, December 8


From: Sarah S.
To: Bruce S.
I Suck and I Ate Your Dinner

Please forgive me and also feel free to get something from somewhere
on your way home. Christmas present will be wrapped
extra-extravagantly to make up for my indiscretion. Love you.


From: Bruce S.
To: Sarah S.

So what kind of sandwich was it, just out of curiosity? Now I'm hungry, woman!


From: Sarah S.
To: Bruce S.

Uh, it was a BL. You know, like that one popular sandwich, only
without the T. Because they're slimey and red and that's a
color/texture combo I don't like eating.

From: Bruce S.
To: Sarah S.

You successfully grossed me out. I don't know if I'm hungry anymore.

...but I'll be stopping at some fine dining establishment on the way home…

From: Sarah S.
To: Bruce S.

Hmm.. which one? I ate your sandwich for lunch, you know ;)

From: Bruce S.
To: Sarah S.

Sure you did…..;) I bet you just ate it after thinking how hungry I'd
be when I got home :)

I don't know where I'm going. Braums or wendy's.

From: Sarah S.
To: Bruce S.

Nuh-uh! I thought that right after I popped the last piece in my mouth.

If you go to Wendy's, do you think you could afford a cheeseburger and
some chicken nuggets with honey for me? Pretty please with a black
[item I made my brother for Christmas] on top? (As soon as I
can get more yarn?)

Love you to bits, Brucie

From: Shady
To: Sarah
Subject: You

Would you be interested in trading pics?? I would love to see more of
your hot body...

From: Sarah
To: Shady
Subject: RE: You


Thanks for the compliment, but no, I don't want to share pics of my
hot body. I'm just not comfortable with that, and I'm pretty sure my
husband wouldn't like it, either.


Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow...

The snow* is already affecting me. My head is fuzzy and my eyes are trying to convince me they're glued shut. Luckily for me, it's like a three-year-old trying to convince me that because his eyes are closed, I can't see him, so I'm fending it off fairly well.

I can't believe how excited I was this morning when B woke me up and took me to the window.

I can't really explain the depth of feeling I have for snow.

I'll try after work, because I just casually glanced down and noticed that in order to get there on time, I'm supposed to have left two minutes ago. Damn, time really flies when you're musing.

Wednesday, December 7

Why I Love My Husband

Not only do we look really good when we suck in our extra chins and pose for pictures we take by holding out the camera at arm's length, like this:

(PS: Remind me to highlight my hair, ok? Please?)

But he also looks good on his own, when he's taking his own picture:

He was way cute when he was a little boy:

And, if he continues to resemble his dad as he grows older, that'll be ok, too:

(.. at least that means he might grow out of wearing togas. )

He's a great friend to have:

And, to top it all off - he likes the Christmas present I made my brother so much, he told me, "You know, if you wanted, you should make me one like that. Only black." [I'd take a picture of the one I made Robby, but he sometimes reads this, and it's (sort of) a surprise.] Also, I bet he has no idea how happy that made me. That's what makes him so special. My wonderful darling. I love him so much.

PS: Sorry ladies, he's pretty much given up on the stripping: