Off to camp

Tomorrow we're off to Massachusetts to hang out at Camp Kinderland for two weeks. Well, at least the kids and I are. Dan will take us up, come home to work, and then join us again later next week. I have about 8 sock knitting projects to take along, plus the things that I want to teach the kids as a member of the Arts & Crafts staff. I hope that's enough yarn to keep me occupied! LOL! I'll also have some books and M&Ms, which are always good companions when I don't have my husband with me. I hope they put us in the same rooms we had last year; it was nice to have a separate room for Rebecca (which will be used by Ben this time around since Rebecca will be in a full-fledged bunk). I'm nervous about her being able to take care of herself, but I guess I just need to trust her and the counselors. I know her counselor from last year and she's really good. I'm just being a mom. So have a wonderful couple of weeks...I might be able to borrow a laptop from my sister-in-law, but if I can't then I'll be offline for two full weeks. Will I survive? Tune in next time to find out.

Now that's just wrong.

We get a wonderful monthly newspaper called The Funny Times. It's composed of humorous cartoons and articles, some of which are pretty universal but many of which have a decidedly liberal slant. We enjoy it very much, needless to say. One of the regular contributors is Mr. Throaty himself, Garrison Keillor. The man's speaking voice makes me want to rip the radio from the car and fling it out the window. Speak up, willya?! But he's a funny writer. Anyway, today I was reading the newest issue which had just arrived in the mail and I saw a sentence that stopped me in my tracks. It included the words "my eight year old daughter." I couldn't read any further than that. I looked at the sentence. I looked at the byline. I read the sentence again. I read the entire paragraph, certain I had misread it somewhere. But no. Apparently this, forgive me, ancient human being has a child younger than one of my own. And all I could think to myself was, "Damn. It must be nice to be a man." How many 66 year old women do you know with 8 year old kids? If I were 66 and trying to raise my daughter at the age she is now, I'd just check myself into an old age home and let the nurses deal with her. But I'm guessing he probably has some lithesome wife at home who can handle the chasing and the running around while he sits back and gurgles about Powdermilk Biscuits. Some days I just wish I'd been born a man.

Facing the weekend

Now, normally I don't like to share on my blog when my husband is out of town. Creepy McStalkerpants could be reading, after all. But I'm feeling pretty low right now and need to share, and since above-mentioned husband is out of town for fun rather than business for once, I don't want to make him feel guilty. He's been in Vegas since Wednesday for work stuff, but since the James Randi group's big annual meeting was this weekend I encouraged him to stay and attend. (They're a skeptic group, in case you don't know who James Randi is.) On his way back he'll be stopping in Chicago for another work meeting. So for the first time since the Far East trip, it's just me and the kids for the entire weekend. The good news: we have a birthday party to attend this weekend, plus the pool, plus maybe we'll go see the panda movie. The bad news: that will take up approximately 10 hours of the 48 hour weekend. I imagine we'll have to watch Camp Rock at least a couple of times--we're Tivo'ing it tonight--and I'm hoping we'll sleep at least part of the time. But I really miss my husband, and I can tell the kids do too. On the positive side, midnight tonight marks the beginning of the Summer of Socks. On Ravelry there is a group devoted to creating as many pairs of socks as possible over the summer, and I signed up. I don't imagine I'll make more than 5 or 6 pairs, at most, but I've got the yarn and patterns all organized for 14. Who knows, if the nights get long while we're at Camp Kinderland maybe I'll get more done than I expect. There will be bi-weekly drawings for prizes, a couple of other contests like "socks on vacation" where the contestants vote on the most original photo of socks on vacation, as well as a huge grand prize for the person who makes the most pairs. I'm not gunning for that one, but I will be enormously jealous of the one who gets it. I have a couple of pairs planned out for my husband, but the rest will be for me. Kid socks don't count, sadly. So please think of me this weekend and send me non-lonely vibes. Or better yet, drop by! Unless your name is Creepy McStalkerpants. I have sharp needles and I'm not afraid to poke you in the bellybutton with them.

Done been snucked

So every week my new favorite online yarn shop has a "sneak up." She gets in new yarns and "sneaks" them into the store, only alerting her most loyal customers (known as Loopy Groupies). However, the Groupies are always kind enough to post a note on Sheri's Ravelry group letting everyone know that the sneak up has begun. Last night I was able to snag a Yarntini sock yarn that is already sold out, as well as another yarn that is sock-yarn weight but which I will be using to make my first lacy scarf. There are still some new things left in stock, and you can get to Sheri's site by clicking the Loopy Ewe link just to your right there. Only three more purchases and I'll hit Groupie status too! I'm trying to pace myself. Also in my yarniverse I've learned the secret to creating two equal center-pull balls so that I can knit my socks two-at-once. Here's my technique: 1. Place digital kitchen scale on the table, then place a tabletop swift on the scale. 2. Zero out the scale (I hit the "tare" button on my scale). 3. Place the skein of yarn on the swift and find the outside end. 4. Check the weight on the scale. Because you zero'ed it out, that's only the weight of the yarn. Divide that number in half. 5. Using a ball winder, begin to wind the yarn from the outside strand. 6. Keep checking the number on the scale. When you reach the halfway number, stop and cut the yarn. Remove the ball from the ball winder. 7. Wind the rest of the yarn. Easy peasy. Two perfect center-pull balls that won't roll around on you and that will help you to make lovely socks two-at-once. For more information on knitting socks two-at-a-time, check out Two-At-A-Time Socks by Melissa Morgan-Oakes, or the well-photographed web tutorial at Come To Silver. The Summer of Socks contest is nearly here. It begins June 21st, and I'm looking forward to focusing on the sock knitting while lounging around the pool and hanging out at camp. I do need to give some attention to the Cobblestone Pullover for my husband, so that he'll have it all ready to go by the time the cold weather arrives again. But I'm in that place where I feel like fall is WAAAY far off. I'll be kicking myself come September, but that's another worry for another day. I just love making socks! I've reached the cuff of the multi-colored socks I'm making for Rebecca, and since I knit continental now the ribbing is just flying off the needles. I'm so glad I converted! Kid socks don't count for the SOS contest, so I need to get these done before Saturday. In other news, the window guys are here finally. We're replacing the 58 year old windows with new vinyl ones. About half the house has newer windows, but the other half, the ones we're getting rid of today, were so old and inefficient. I'm hoping this plus the new boiler will help us keep oil costs down this winter. The bad part is that I'm stuck in the house for two days, when I really need to hit the grocery store.

Don't let him lick you on the mouth

So we have this really stupid frog living in our back yard. I keep finding him in the pool skimmers and putting him over in the bushes. The last time, I took him clear across the yard and hoped he'd learn his lesson. Yesterday, I opened the skimmer lid and there he was again, bobbing sheepishly up and down, looking at me with his little buggy frog eyes. I scooped him out again and set him on the sidewalk, thinking I would close the skimmer and take him across the yard again. Then I realized the dog was standing right there. I made a grab for his collar, but he was too quick for me. Poor Froggie will no longer go a courtin'--he was gobbled up in about two seconds. Today, Seeger's new nickname is Frog Breath.

Puppy Meme

One of the knitting blogs I enjoy reading is called Pink Lemon Twist, and its author is Melanie, a superior knitter and designer. Well she got tagged to fill out a blog meme and decided to do it from the point of view of her dog. I loved that idea, and since I get some guff for not fulfilling my tags I thought I might do this one to quell the masses. (Okay, just Pam.) Take it away, Seeger: What were you doing 10 years ago? I wasn't born yet. My dogmom wasn't born yet. Two of the humans who take care of me weren't even born yet. But yesterday I played and slept and ate a lot. What are 5 things on your To Do List for today, in no particular order? 1. Eat a lot 2. Sleep on my back so my private parts are on display 3. Chew on some dirty underwear that I dug out of the laundry basket 4. Bark at the men painting the next-door neighbor's house 5. Practice sitting and staying and heeling with my humanmom What are some snacks you enjoy? Well, dirty underwear obviously. Also tissues from the bathroom trash can. Rawhide bones, Milk Bones (gravy or plain, I'm not picky), and anything that drops from The Boy's plate at dinnertime. What would you do if you were a millionaire? Buy everyone's dirty underwear so I can chew it. And make world pees. I mean peace. List the places you've lived: 1. In my crate 2. On humanmom's lap 3. Under the chair by the pool

Ow

Okay, injuries seem to be rife around the house these days. The kids are fine, fortunately; it's the worn-out old folks who are having the problems. My husband injured his back trying to do some Wii Fit yoga, then fell down a couple of basement stairs last night due to someone irresponsibly leaving a laundry basket at the top of the stairs. Now granted, the fact that I was actually doing laundry should be to my credit, as should the fact that turning on the light before going down into the pitch dark basement is good policy. But I won't blame the victim here. So now he has a sore back and a sore knee to match. Me? Oh yes, I have achy Achilles tendons from my sun salutations this morning, plus I seem to have strained my forearm muscles doing rhythm boxing. If the exercise gods don't stop this nonsense, I'm going to start thinking they WANT me to be out of shape. This is a pretty nutty week, as is next week, and then there will be a short lull before the chaos of summer vacation. We still have a ton of camp paperwork to fill out, which we've been procrastinating on. Yesterday was the much-anticipated school carnival, and I was lucky to be able to attend both the morning and the afternoon sessions. That way, I was able to see both kids playing and having fun. The lower grades were out from 9:30 to 12, and the upper grades from 12:30 to 3. In the morning I was working pretty much non-stop doing face painting. My specialty turned out to be dalmatians. I don't know if they were popular because I was good at them, or if I got good at them because I had to do so many. My only dissatisfied customer was my own son, which was good because anyone else and I wouldn't have been able to say "Sorry, dude, you'll have to deal." He asked me to make him a "red alien with green lines coming out of the corners of his eyes." That looked a little bland, so I gave him black around the eyes and lips. So then he looked like Spiderman. We thought about it for a while and decided he needed a yellow lightning bolt on his forehead. After that I had to throw in the towel. After a hot dog and an ice cream cone, plus all the sweat, it didn't last long anyway. In the afternoon I supervised the Dumbo ride. The extent of my duties was yelling at kids to put their feet down. The afternoon dragged a LOT longer than the morning. My daughter humored me by going on the ride once, but her time was pretty much taken up by the other, more exciting rides like the swings and the (small, safe) roller coaster. Here are a couple of photos of them with their bestest buddies.