Whoop-de-doo

Mr. Gadget and I are not big party people.  We'll never turn down an invitation to a party, but we rarely have parties ourselves and tend to celebrate family birthdays in an understated way.

Earlier this week Mr. Gadget observed his 65th birthday, and it was pretty much business as usual here at the Concondo. Just to make sure I didn't forget to wish him a happy birthday first thing in the morning, I put a sock on my nightstand the night before.  I'm pretty sure he didn't notice it, but then it really wouldn't have mattered because he already knows I'm nuts. 

Sometimes, if there's something important I need to remember, I'll put an object of some kind in a place where it absolutely doesn't belong.  Like for instance, if I need to remember to take something to someone, I'll put the TV remote in front of the door where I'd have to trip over it to get out.  Sometimes I put the object itself there, but obviously I can't very well do that with a lasagna.  I've found this to be a great memory trick and it's worked well for many years.  Maybe I should write a book.

I did get the special birthday placemat out for the occasion.

Mr. Gadget's brothers called to wish him a happy birthday.  His youngest brother and his wife are well known in the family as party animals.  They've rented big party boats and even flown to Paris to celebrate birthdays....especially big ones.

"What did you do for your big birthday?" asked younger brother when he called.

"Well," replied Mr. G, "I had some great stew and some delicious apple pie--both made by my lovely wife--and then I watched Jeopardy."

I'm not sure what his brother said after that.  It's possible he was at a loss for words. 

So, I finished knitting the white shoulder bag..... 

....and today I felted it in the washing machine.

 

Felted things usually come out of the washer misshapen and scrunched up. They require lots of poking and prodding and nudging.  It's a little like having children but the felted bags get with the program a lot more quickly.

Spring menagerie

When Mr. Gadget and I took a walk this morning we noticed an unusual collection of animals out and about around the complex.  We've seen these before. They appear only in the spring, and they always gravitate toward certain condo units. We assume they have a certain fondness for the owners.  I call them snow pets.

This one, lounging around in the sun, was in our driveway.  It's a stray.  I hope it finds its way home soon so I don't have to call Animal Control.

Here's one waiting for someone to wash a car so he can get a drink from the gutter.  He's dirty and mangy-looking.  His owners must regret the day they brought him home.

I'm glad I don't have this to deal with--a snow pet with a litter.  It could be tricky finding the little ones good homes.  I don't think they'd survive very long in a box with a sign by the side of the road.

Here's a bunny--just in time for Easter.

You've gotta feel a little sorry for this one.....hanging over the curb drooling.

The owners should be reprimanded for these two....allowing them out without a leash and letting them pee on the grass.

I fear it's too late for this one.  I'd better call the city and ask for a road-kill pickup.

From here to there

I always like a challenge....especially when it's fabric-related.  And when it's small.  And when there's no immediate deadline looming. 

"Sure," I told the bride-to-be who happens to be one of Big City Girl's best friends, "I'll be happy to make your ring-bearer's pillow.  Just give me an idea of what you want."

She did, and I came up with a sketch.  Don't pay any attention to the date.  Sometimes I can't even remember how old I am...

And then I came up with a pillow.

Here's the not-so-shiny version.  In real life, it's somewhere inbetween.

The rings are fakes.  Just in case the little ring-bearer decides it's a toy and flings it like a frisbee, no harm will be done.  I'd better remember to take a few spares.

This and that and the other thing

So I did the interview with my bike-riding neighbors and wrote the article--all in two days.  That's pretty darn quick for me, as I usually have to wrestle with my words for several days before I can pin them down.  I have to credit the blog for all the writing practice it gives me, and to you, my tolerant readers, who never say a word about my mistakes.....like for instance....putting a tiger picture up with a story about the Serengeti.  Mr. Gadget Smartypants informed me of that one after I posted.

But just in case you've ever wondered if dogs wear goggles, they do.

And they're not just for show. They serve a purpose by keeping flying road debris out of a dog's eyes.  The article was fun to write, and I learned something about tandem biking in the process.  The rider in front maintains total control of the bike, and the rider in back must relinquish all control.....which is why I could never ride the rear seat in a tandem.  I'd probably hit the brakes when I noticed Mr. Gadget making a move to pass two old ladies in the slow lane.

I'm already assuming my article will be well-received, and am thinking about other residents I might interview.  If it doesn't make it into print, I will hide my head in shame and find another knitting project for solace.  Speaking of which, I finished another black felted bag and I'm more pleased with its size.  This one still needs some lining and a snap closure. 

I've started a white one that will be slightly narrower--as a birthday gift for a friend.  And while I was in the yarn store buying the white yarn, I found a sweater pattern that I just had to have.  I'm hoping I have some yarn on hand for it.  I was never like this in my early days of knitting.  My process then was to *buy sweater pattern, buy yarn for sweater, knit, sew knitted pieces together, wear sweater(or banish it to the back of a dresser drawer), repeat from *.  Now we knitters--and I'm pretty comfortable speaking for the collective whole here--buy yarn and build a stash, and then live with the guilt, and then deal with the dilemma of how we will possibly be able to knit it all in one lifetime.  Most of us figure we're just going to have to come back.

Living on the wild side

(Disclaimer:  the information presented in this blog post does not necessarily reflect the opinions of the blog author.)

The other day, just before Mr. Gadget headed down to his basement office to type up the minutes from the most recent condo association board meeting, I asked him how he was feeling as his three-year term on the executive board was drawing to a close.

He turned around and plopped himself down on a barstool.  Somehow, I knew I was in for more than just a short, two-word answer.

"In many ways," he said, "the Serengeti National Park is a fitting metaphor for a condominium complex.  Being on the board is a lot like being a park ranger."

I thought maybe I should have grabbed my knitting.

"Condo residents can be divided into two general categories," he went on.  "The vast majority are clueless ungulates and the rest are evil predators out to get them."  He had more.  "Consequently, despite what the CC&R's say about roles and responsibilities, the real job of the executive board members is to protect the former from the latter."

I must remember to keep my knitting in a handier place.

"And like the plains dwelling herbivores, most condo residents are content to be left alone with their patch of greenery around their units," he said.  "Any executive board member who seeks to deny them their greenbelt does so at great personal risk."

He was really getting heated up.  I could see the barstool starting to quiver.

"I know you've told me how contentious the association meetings are," I said.  "Do you have any ideas for improving meeting management?"

"Well," he said, "one thing's for sure: patience is not a virtue.  A board member trying to explain a complex issue is like that Serengeti park ranger trying to keep the herd from destroying the only watering hole in the area."

Mr. Gadget was definitely into the whole metaphor mentality.

"The predators are pretty smart," he continued.  "They make a run for the water, but when they're blocked, they look elsewhere.  But the others are like wildebeests.  They just keep heading to the same watering hole over and over and over.

I was getting a good sense of just how he felt about his time on the board.  I'd really heard enough so I started for the Treehouse.

"Not so fast!" he exclaimed.  "I've held out the best for last.  Like the park ranger, the executive board member's personal goal is to put in his time and get the hell out before losing any limbs."

Tuesday tidbits

So I got to thinking.....

I wonder if I could use this doll pattern

to make a morning lady.

The eyes would work;

the mustache not.

 

I stuck my turkey neck out

last weekend and volunteered

to write some short stories about residents

for our new condo newsletter.

The first one will be about our neighbors

who ride a bicycle built for two.

With their dog.

 

Today I purchased the final construction supplies

for the ring-bearer pillow.

I'll get it done lickity-split.

The bride thinks I've been working

my fingers to the bone for weeks.

Shhhhhh!

 

I gave up the woodcarving class.

It's all about priorities.

I wonder if they missed me yesterday?

I think I can figure it out for myself.

I'll keep a supply of bandages handy.

 

Mr. Gadget and I are considering

shipping our bicycles to the Calcondo.

It was my brilliant idea.

Here, we have to drive a long way to the

woodsy, hilly bike paths.

There, we can drive a short distance to

a mostly-flat path along the beach.

 

This summer I'll be attending my

50th high school reunion.

I've known both of the women

organizers since kindergarten.

One had a doll with beautiful clothes--with sequins

and fur and satin--all handmade

by her mother.

The other begged me to play marbles

with her in the dirt.

She always won and I kept having to

buy new marbles.  She had an older brother

who routinely socked us in the arm.

 

Tomorrow I'm getting a haircut.

After that I'll begin my new life

as a gray-haired lady.

I'm happy with my salt and pepper look.

I keep looking for those annoying, emerging roots

but find none.

I've deleted that worry from my worry list.

However, I've added a new worry to the list.

I'm worried about the dust bunnies.

They're reproducing much too quickly.

 

 

 

 



"Crossword clues for a thousand please Alex"

Mr. Gadget and I are big Jeopardy fans, as you've probably already guessed.  It's just part of our daily routine.  We play along and often collaborate on final jeopardy.  "Oh, what's the name of that cloth with the little ridges?" he'll shout out as he feels the stress of the catchy little tune winding down.  "Corduroy!" I declare confidently, showing off my impressive knowledge of all-things-fabricy.  We do make a good team.

This weekend Big City Girl will be making a return trip to the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament in Brooklyn--not far from where she lives.  Since there's no stadium seating available and no loud cheering permitted on the sidelines, we'll stay home and wait to hear from her. 

Some contestants really get into the total crossword experience.

Again, as I did two years ago when she first competed, I offered to make her a cute little outfit, but she politely declined.  BCG doesn't like to make a spectacle of herself.  She's funny that way...

So here's what I've been up to:

On Monday, I went back to the woodcarving group and found the instructor in attendance and the big-mouth a bit more subdued.  I made an attempt to carve a small owl--the class project of the day.  In the process I cut my finger and bled on my handiwork.  Fortunately, no medical intervention was required, but now--as I understand it--I'm an official member of the brotherhood....make that sisterhood...of woodcarvers.

I also made an attempt to felt a small knitted bag. 

I wasn't sure what the shrinkage factor would be, so this is just an experiment.  I used Cascade 220 yarn (info for you knitters) and was very happy with the way it felted.  I'm now at work on a slightly bigger version that will be a better size for one of my felted-flower embellishments.

As for the shoe-coloring project, I had pretty good luck with the fabric paint.

They are a bit splotchy in spots, but I'm reluctant to do a second coat.  I think they're good enough--in light of the fact that BCG will be wearing a long dress that will hide most of her shoes, and I'm assuming the big tattoo will deflect attention from her feet.  Unless, of course, grandma-of-bride decides a shoe inspection is in order....in which case BCG might end up being voted off.

Here's the lowdown....

...in no particular order.

So I went to the woodcarving meet-up last Monday at the senior center, but the teacher didn't show. He had car trouble.  There were seven of us gathered, all eager to attack some wood. There were 5 women and 2 men--one of whom was a know-it-all-curmudgeonly type.  He told me my grandfather's woodcarving tools were very nice, and that I should hide them because they were something he would love to own, but that really all I needed was a small knife.

So I came home and asked Mr. Gadget if I could borrow a pocket knife from his gadget stash and maybe a small piece of pine.  No sense spending good money for an official wood-carving knife and all the trimmings until I've checked out the teacher and determined whether or not the curmudgeon is going to make me just want to stay home.

Very soon I'll be starting construction on a ring-bearer's pillow for Big City Girl's good friend who is getting married in April.  This has required some research and several consultations with the bride-to-be to come up with a plan for the perfect pillow.  This will include white satin, plum ribbon, embroidery thread, stuffing, and some fake rings to tie on the pillow so there's no worry if the 3-year-old ring bearer decides to throw it like a frisbee.

And further to the wedding preps, I'm going to dye some shoes for BCG who will be a bridesmaid.  "Just wear any old gold shoes you have in your closet," said the bride to BCG.  "Yeah, like I have gold shoes," replied BCG. 

So we went shoe-shopping while she was visiting last weekend and she got a pair of white shoes that she really liked because I confidently told her, "I'm pretty sure I can dye those gold for you."  In fact, I paid for the shoes since I was taking all of the color responsibility.   I'm so tempted to make them bright red with glitter.  It would be my little joke.  But then, I might be upstaging BCG who has her own little joke.

She assures me the only one at the wedding who will have a problem with this is the bride's grandma.  I must remember to take my camera.

So I was emailing with my cousin the other day and I sent her this same picture, and we got to discussing various skin decorations that we seem to be acquiring as we age....you know little tags and spots and things of various elevations.  She said her doctor calls them the barnacles of life.  I thought this was hilarious and wonderfully descriptive. I told her I didn't notice mine very much since I always keep them well-covered, but I had noticed many unusual things appearing on my face and that maybe I will call them wisdom badges.  Just how much wisdom can one acquire I wonder?