Cow talker

I managed to finish my article and submit it to the local newspaper, and now I'm waiting patiently to see my name in print. Certainly it's just as journalistically sound as the one they published this week....written by a man who talks to cows.

I've been known to talk to cows too, but I'd let one stomp me silly before I'd share that with the entire newspaper delivery area.

Meanwhile, I uncovered my sewing machine (no ants or cookie crumbs) and stitched up a few more witch costumes.

Those bats and spider webs scared the pants off Homer (won on Kathy's blog, along with some sock yarn) so I'm only exposing his decent upper half. I probably should start thinking about snowmen and santas, but I keep seeing cute Halloween prints...you know, when I just happen to be passing by a fabric store.

So yesterday I had my hair cut by my west coast hairdresser. I call her California Clara. It's pretty short and I was a little worried about what Mr. Gadget would say because, like most men, he's a long-hair lover. But he actually told me it was cute....which is not a word Mr. G would use lightly. In fact, it's a word he would use hardly ever.

But Clara and I got into a discussion about technical stuff, and how we are both grateful to have husbands who can program our technical gadgets and troubleshoot when necessary. Not to mention, take care of the technical chores around the house so we don't have to ever be involved. Then I had to laugh and tell her the story of my Grandma Ferna. Her husband, my grandfather, died when she was about 60. She didn't know how to drive or write a check or any of those things. Since we lived close by, the job of teaching her all of that fell to my father--a real saint. I say saint because she had a big ol' Plymouth with a standard shift sitting in the garage, and we lived in a neighborhood with lots of hills. After he finished teaching her how to drive the Plymouth, he taught me how to drive a standard shift VW on those same hills. By the grace of God, he lived to be almost 87.

But my point, and I was working toward one, is that girls of my generation were intent on learning those life skills because, unlike our grandmothers' generation--and to some extent our mothers'-- we were liberated and determined never to be in a position of being dependent on a man.....

So Tech Guy is still traipsing around the country, but I continue to keep my pelican head in the sand. I'm pretty sure my worry-knitting project will see me through the weekend when he is expected to return home. He had planned to head due east from San Francisco early this week, but instead he diverted to Wichita and then back to Atlanta. I guess he figured he still had plenty of clean laundry. I hate to admit it but I've always had a little bit of the enabler in me.