I thought that Secondborn was talking to BittyBubba. He had been trying to eat the wrapping paper all afternoon. But when I heard, “Mom, LittleBit got her tongue pierced,” that pulled my nose up out of my knitting.
Sigh... I guess if this is the
Not to mention the additional wear and tear on tooth enamel from the incessant clanking. [But since she is no longer on my insurance, that is now officially her problem.]
I had had the sense that she was avoiding me. Now I guess I know why.
On to happier subjects: look! knitting progress!
I am on the straightaway on Juno Regina, and I am loving it. Second star on the right, straight on till morning, or at least until I am 42 inches past that last diamond.
Made another double batch of brownies for the ward social last night and brought two-thirds of them home. Which solves the question of what we will be having for dessert tonight. [And possibly lunch today? No, will save them to feed those hungry elders and send some home with them and take a few for my lunches this week.]
Found my Russian linen table runner, neatly folded under the basket on the chair in my bedroom. [The basket where the paint chips used to be, until I found the blue tape.]
Decided that I would take some of my #10 cans and the dilapidated bits of that bookcase and improvise more shelving in the kitchen. I broke down a bunch of cardboard boxes for recycling and got a few more stacks of dishes up off the kitchen floor. It also freed up a few square feet of floor space in my studio and by the front door, where boxes of food storage had been patiently waiting for me to put them someplace where I would see them and rotate them through my pantry.
In order to do all this, I needed to empty several other boxes which were stacked in the kitchen where I wanted to put the new shelves. The last drawer is now filled with cling wrap and foil and that roll of baking parchment and sundry ziplock bags. And the last cabinet is filling fast.
One of the brethren who helped me move in, shook my hand at the social last night and asked, “How is the house coming?”
I said, “A little better every week.”
He shook his head and sighed, “Wish I could say the same for my own house.”
I told him, “You have kids. Little kids. Not happening!” But I bet their house is neater than ours was when my kids were little. You don't need to go to the dictionary to find the definition of disaster; that would be chez moi for much of the past thirty years.
Which is why I am sneaking up on order one or two boxes at a time, so as not to perish from the shock of it all.
BittyBubba appears to love his new washcloths. When I left their house yesterday afternoon, he had one crammed in his mouth and was gnawing away on it.
Which brings me back to the topic of things crammed into the mouth that were not made to be there. Aughhh! Time for more knitting!
Went through all the junk mail that had piled up during the week and recycled most of it and shredded the rest. The store where I got those $1.99 a pound chicken breasts has them on sale again; sounds as if I will be clucking thankfully for another two weeks.
Just remembered that I need to change the address on my drivers license. And on the registration for both cars. The insurance premium on both cars has dropped slightly because of my move, as has the premium on my renter’s insurance. They made an adjustment to next month’s bill.
NonSequitur is positively brilliant today [7/27/2008].
And I found my T-pins [!!!] when I went into my room to liberate the other slant-top basket so I could stash the extra plastic lids that fit opened #10 cans. The container of pins popped open when I tumped the basket out on my bed, which means that I will definitely be dealing with them sometime between now and bedtime.