“I sent my sinuses to Arizona”

I loved George Carlin when I was a kid. Grew up seeing him on TV; never saw his show in Vegas, which I understand was, ahem, linguistically livelier. He died! How can Al Sleet, the Hippy Dippy Weatherman, be dead? [For those of you to whom I gave birth, the title of the post was also the first line of a love song parody that he wrote.]

I learned a new phrase in a class at work on Tuesday, “Drink the corporate Kool-Aid.” I asked her where she learned it, and I think she said “Bill Reilly”??? One more person I’ve never heard of.

How to tell it’s June, and you’re in Texas.



No, it’s not an obese roach. It’s a June bug. Do you have them where you live? They are everywhere this time of year. This one was in the mail bucket. I don’t know if it died of old age or was flattened by the certified mail.

Speaking of dead bugs, I pushed the button to admit one of my attorneys into our suite without his having to swipe his card key. But he was moving a little more slowly than I thought, and I took my finger off the button, and he smacked into the door. I apologized and added, “Some days you’re the windshield, and some days you’re the bug.” Which is when he asked who had sung that, and I had to sit there and flap my eyebrows at him, because I had no clue. I only knew it as a phrase.

Google to the rescue! Dire Straits recorded it. [Neat little song, and I love Mark Knopfler’s voice, a fact that has been amply documented on this blog.]

I just about went nuts looking for my peanut butter for lunch yesterday. I looked in five different drawers before remembering that I had bought the healthy kind that has to be refrigerated. I’m not sure if that means that I need more vacation, or if the one I took was a little too long.

Had a great conversation with a young mother on the train. She has a toddler and another one under construction. She likes midwives, Terry Pratchett, a lot of the same music that I like, and she does the same thing for another insurance defense law firm that I do for mine. I knitted and talked, knitted and listened, added the new ball of yarn, and it wasn’t until I got to work and put my bag away that I realized that because this is Noro, all full of wooly goodness, I could have spit-spliced it. So that’s what I did on my morning break: frogged back a row and a half to splice the yarn.

It was really fun to pour out the bag of hand-wound balls onto my bed and search until I found the one that began where the first ball ended off. Of course, if I get three-fourths of the way through this project and decide that I want to do something else, I will end up with the world’s largest spit-spliced ball of yarn. I might not be able to roll it through the bedroom door!

Does anybody besides me detect a theme here?



Here we have the three current projects: Juno Regina, the Noro [?]kimono[?], and a stealth project, all on size 4 needles! And look how different the fabric is on each one.

And this, just in case you need a little whimsy today.