Not a good night for skunks

I’ll spare you the visual. And the olfactory impression as well. But a half-mile stretch of my morning commute has been somewhat more memorable than usual this week. There are at least two grease spots that used to be skunks along a semi-rural stretch before I get to the highway.

In the dark, as usual
I offer you “black bear, eating licorice ice cream cone, at midnight”:



Actually, this is my feeble attempt to capture last night’s lunar eclipse with my digital camera. We had a lot of cloud cover. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Here’s a picture of Lorelai, so you will know that the first picture was taken outdoors and not in my closet.



Cue the Ravel
The court reporter who covered yesterday’s deposition was wearing this jacket and was gracious enough to let me photograph it.



A mossy/OD green suede bolero embellished with circles that had been punched out of it and accented with tiny brads or beads and clear flat sequins. The designer is Rozae Nichols, and I couldn’t get her website to work properly while at my workstation. Or at home, either. Something similar would be a good use for the rest of my Ultrasuede®.

The jacket is perhaps my least favorite shade of green, and still it was breathtaking!

Accurate Waste Management
It occurred to me the other day that I can recognize a lot of cars by their trunks, not so many by their hoods. This comes from seven years of driving into Dallas, being passed by Lexii, Mercedes Benzes, Escalades, BMW’s, and the like.

I also see a lot of interesting names on company vehicles. Recently it was “Accurate Waste Management”. Would you really want to do business with a company that was called “Inaccurate Waste Management”? Or “Mediocre Waste Management”?

Last week it was a bumper sticker for “Dallas Teen [Something]”; something that seemed oxymoronic when paired with “teen”. It will come back to me, probably one of those mornings when I wake at 2:47am and can’t get back to sleep. Or maybe tomorrow as I drive in to work.

Frisk me, Officer Burley
I think we would all agree that I have been a very good girl for a very long time. [I have no intention of changing that.] But I am wondering if perhaps when Brother Right comes ambling into my life, my reward for all this goodness could be that he turns out to be a Texas State Trooper. There is something in that combination of impeccably tailored uniform and the “ma’am” that goes all the way down to the bones that is well-nigh irresistible.

Cop : Blue Bell “Homemade Vanilla” :: Texas State Trooper : Haagen Dazs “Mayan Chocolate”

Sharing the knitting love subversion
Some of us in the dinner group are planning to join a game night that one of the stakes is hosting tomorrow night. One of the sisters posted that she would like to go, but she didn’t want to be there with a bunch of people she didn’t know. Understandable. My first response was dithery, even for me. Along the lines of “Don’t know if I want to go, may just bake brownies on Thursday night and put them in my trunk, won’t know if I want to be social or go home with a book until 5:00 on Friday.” Then I tossed out the idea that any of us who are knitters [or would like to be] could bring our knitting and knit while we visited and kibitzed. Another sister asked if I could teach her to crochet. I responded that I could, and

[Guys, there’s a long and honored tradition of men who knit. And need I add that a man who knits is obviously secure in his masculinity; ergo, knitting = babe magnet. Just sayin’.]

So, I’m going. I picked up a box of brownie mix and a package of disposable pans last night. I’ll come home and bake brownies after water aerobics.

Breaking my arm patting myself on the back department
I resisted the temptation to stop and get a hot chocolate on the drive to work yesterday. I also bypassed one of those single-serve-nuked-cake-with-gooey-sauce desserts that was on the shelf just below the brownie mix. Instead I came home and ate a whole wheat bollilo [roll] with a sensible portion of Nutella spread on it, washed down with a mug of milk.

I have to tank the car this morning. There may be a falling-down in the culinary virtue department. [RaceTrac has not only the cheapest gas in town but the best and cheapest hot chocolate.] I’ll balance it by taking a container of yesterday’s soup for lunch, which turned out rather well and is not my usual cream-soup-with-a-vengeance.

Considerable progress on Middlest’s sock. The ribbing is done, and I’ve gotten halfway through the first repeat of the leg pattern.