Archive for December, 2007

Skinny Legs And All

socks

By god, I finished something. More on this knitting miracle tomorrow soon.

Double Point Ninny

When I am Queen, it will be illegal for only one double point needle to go missing. It will have to be all or nothing, thereby making the purchase of a new set of needles justifiable.

This proclamation has been brought to by Grumperina’s Jaywalker, A Swell Yarn Shop’s Skinny Duet, and a lone missing 6″ Crystal Palace size one US DPN.

Unlike Disneyland, It Wasn’t The Happiest Place On Earth

I’ve spent the past five days pondering how to write this post, how to delicately say that my brother could of died without emergency surgery on Sunday.

In a move that only proves how related we are, The Tallest Little Brother (henceforth referred to as TTLB) fell while exercising in his living room, rupturing his spleen when his left elbow was shoved into it as he hit the floor. Somehow he managed to drive himself to an urgent care clinic where he was then placed in an ambulance and rushed to the ER of a local hospital. Three IVs, two rooms, and one CT scan later, a surgeon was called, our parents arrived, and we waited. Stints were placed, trips to the ICU were had, and yesterday evening after three days on his back he was released into the care of our mother, the lucky SOB.

Through it all he somehow managed to not lose his sense of humour. A good thing when you’re so doped up and in shock that you think the lamp across the hall is somehow moving up and down the wall. I’m not sure which one of us was more horrified when asked if I was his wife by the attending ER doctor. And of course, I have now seen enough of his bare white ass to last me the rest of my lifetime.

When it all ends, he will be okay. His spleen will fully heal, he’ll invest in non-skid socks, and he might even get the bills paid off before he dies (the joys of not having health insurance in the ole’ US of A). For him life will go on, fancy stint and all. Now he’ll just be more careful about where he works out.

Token Cat Picture

cats

I haven’t got a thing to write about so have a cat picture instead.

To The Opinionated Boob At The Counter

Dear Sir,

While eating my breakfast this morning I, along with the rest of the cafe, couldn’t help but overhear your complaints on the state of politics today. I am sorry that in 1977 the DOT knocked over your mailbox while clearing off the road. However it is no longer 1977, it is 2007, and perhaps it time to let that go.

Also, while you did not vote for Christine Gregoire, there are hundreds of thousands of us who did. Judging by the escalating sound of your voice while you repeated that over and over, I am sure she heard it in Olympia too. It does no good to refer to her as, “that bitch and her wussy husband,” I can assure you they don’t give a shit.

In passing, if life here is so bad, move. Get into your “big ole truck with its 40 bells and whistles” and get the fuck out of town. The only person who may miss you is the waitress you leave that 9% tip to, because she doesn’t deserve more than God. Until then, I will be busy thanking God, Allah, and any other deity I can find that my vote cancels out yours.

Respectively,

Spring

Ready Thine Ark

We’ve gotten no less than ten inches of rain in the past 24 hours. This is on top of all the snow we got the two days previously (which has since melted). As a result we have standing water almost all the way around the house and our garage (just above ground level) is now starting to flood. Himself has moved all the important boxes out of the area and we’re just crossing our fingers that the rain lets up a bit.

In the meantime we’re having fun watching the county roads closed list and the photos of morons who drove their cars into water that was three or four feet deep. It never fails, there are at least a half-dozen of them each year.