It was my honest opinion, but she was having none of it. Even when presented with the picture proofs, she remained steadfast behind him, tossing would be friendships into the fire that would be there to support her when he finally revealed his unfaithfulness, which I believed was just simmering on the back burner and would explode like a meth lab within days--a month at the most.
Tired of having nothing, and her world coming down around her ears, she clung to the hope that was hopeless. He would leave her eventually, a blithering mess--the way he'd done me. I was stronger now, but I couldn't tell her why I was involved or who I was. That would have to wait for the final unveiling.
The song "Big Yellow Taxi" blared in my head, as earworms often do, and the words somehow seemed appropriate.
"Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got til it's gone. They paved paradise, and put up a parking lot." Then "And a big yellow taxi took away my old man."
Although I'm still not sure WHY they seemed appropriate, I simply knew that they were. I went over the whole song in my head as I was driving along, heading for Chicago. A quick stop at a McDonald's along the I-94 corridor at the drive through to wave at the step-daughter and smile. I'm sure he had told her his version of our history. I imagined her smile turning to a frown when I told her MY side of the story, and how all her pre-conceived notions about him came crashing down around her. Similar to the way Ms. Draner's would, should I ever let her know what had really happened. But for now, those things would stay hidden. The drive was long, slow and hot. Chicago was still a long, long distance away. I had a good six or seven hour drive ahead of me, and a storm brewing in the windshield. Little beads of water formed on my upper lip, so I turned on the a/c a little higher and pointed the air duct straight to my face. That was good for a minute or two...then it turned chilly, and the rain started pelting the car.
I turned on the radio and the wipers in a smooth arched motion, trading hands on the wheel, checking for lights before and aft. I was quite literally on the road alone, passing through another memory. I slowed to 55, even though the limit was 70, because my tires were slightly undernourished in the tread department. I flipped off the cruise control, too, as the rain got heavier, and water started to splash on the side of the car as I sped through puddles. As the wind came up, I noticed hail beginning to fall, so I pulled off at the next exit, and just in time to hear a tornado warning blast over the radio, interrupting a favorite song. I looked behind me in time to see it, too, whirling and tossing debris everywhere, but it was short lived, and the funnel cloud disappeared into the rainstorm. Things quieted down after that, so I resumed my trek, got back on the highway, and continued on into the rain, as the last of "Kentucky Rain" played on the radio. I dialed 911 and called in the tornado, although I was sure that it had been fully reported by spotters that I'd seen along I-94.
The rest of the trip was completely uneventful, save for the sun coming out and giving me a full eyeball's view of a spectacular sunset, reds, oranges and gold with a little purple tossed in the clouds here and there--a summer sunset to remember. I'd be in Chicago in minutes now, rather than hours. I'd been on the turnpike for an hour, taking in the highs and lows of Chicago suburbia.
I arrived at the Holiday Inn next to the Mall. Great placement, as far as I was concerned, even if it was a little expensive. It was here that I was finding out more information in my review of another cheating husband, this one, NOT my own, thank goodness. I mean, you have to trust somebody sometime, and my fella deserved it. I had work to do; however a short walk to the mall would hurt no one.
The Mall was open and spacious with lots of sculptures and balloons made of paper hanging from the ceiling. I stopped at a Sbarro for a slice of their pizza, and sat down in the food court watching people walk past. The Mall would be closing soon, but I made note of the couples who were dating and those that were long-time marrieds--easy to spot, by whether they were holding hands or not, looking into each others eyes as if to say "I want to know you, through and through." How I longed to tell them they could never know another person. They could turn on you, bite off your head and spit in your neck sort of evil, without your ever knowing. They could turn into someone and something that you never thought possible. I'd seen it time after time. In my line of work, YOU DO. The nature of the beast is to protect itself--even when the truth is staring them in the face, this type will deny until the end of the ages--pledge allegiance, and then when you aren't looking...ah, another time.
I spotted my mark at the Mall, just moments before closing, heading back for the hotel, and I decided that was my cue to follow. I knew in advance where he was going and who he was meeting. The internet is NOT as safe as it appears. I took it easy and kept well behind. He met up with her in the parking lot. He was dashing, and some might say good looking. She was pretty average, actually, and not his type at all. He smiled at her, even though I knew that disappointed look wasn't from the fact that he'd forgotten the condoms. I pulled my phone out of my shirt pocket and turned it on video.
His wife, completely unaware, was back in Colorado, thinking he was on a business trip. I'd heard that one a million times, but I tend to exaggerate. They clasped hands and walked into the hotel, and I turned off the video. No sense in going overboard and giving myself away. I was here to enjoy myself, too. Take in a few sights and sounds and native food, all while at the same time, getting stills and more of a man gone wrong. I ambled up to my room, which surprisingly was on their floor, and I touched my blue tooth as they went into the room together.
Blue tooth, my arse. It was a small camera. I had him. Right where his wife would prefer he not be, but there he was all the same. In a hotel room with another woman. I opened my own door with the access card key, and entered. Deciding to take a quick shower and hit the sheets. Tomorrow, I'd have to hit the ground running early if I wanted to get more--even though what I had was damning enough. A kiss, of course, would seal the deal. Another statistic bites the dust. I figured I would get my chance at some point over the weekend.
But for now, time to relax in a cool shower, and perhaps a quick drink, then off to la-la land. Tomorrow, I would eat well, visit Chinatown, the Sears Tower and a Mexican Restaurant, all the while running the A-Train everywhere around town.
The wharf, the library, the gargoyles, the copper sculptures the museum, the arboretum. Everyplace that was anyplace. I made a mental note to buy some new tennis shoes when I returned home. This trip was sure to put holes in my existing gumshoes, as they were already showing less tread than I remembered when I first put them on my feet. I turned off the lights, disrobed and slipped underneath the cool drops behind the shower curtain, and let them rain on my face and hair, before finally bringing soap to washcloth.
Ah, and you thought I was going to go into a sordid shower scene, did you? Shame on your imagination.
After the shower, I wrapped the towel around and stepped into the air conditioning, towel dried my hair, and flipped on the television from a glowing keypad on a remote control, but I wasn't really watching the television. I was playing over some things in my own head. Memories, long since dead, of he and I in our earlier days, when things weren't so stressed, and we were visiting Disneyland with friends of ours. They thought we were doing something nasty under those covers. Really not so much, but it was fun making them think so. Since tv really held no interest for me, I flipped it back off, turned down the bed, and lay down, resting the towel on the pillow so that the pillow didn't get soaked from my still damp hair. Then I stood back up, dropped the towel and crawled in, chilled now in the air conditioning, and little goose pimples rose the hairs on my arms. Yes, I remembered those days. It saddened me to think that he'd tossed them all away so easily for a quickie with a girl who didn't even have her head on straight.
I had to tell myself "That was then. This is now." and allow my eyes to close against the memories again, all the while convincing myself that sleep would erase things and tomorrow would dawn a new day when I could crush another scumbag.
Ah, yes, sweet revenge...but on the wrong guy.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
I Have About 10 Minutes..
In order to blog my irritation about the Casey Anthony trial.
A little girl was murdered. You don't duct tape the head or nose/mouth of a child that has already died by drowning.
There, I said it.
There's just not a single stupid person in the WORLD who wouldn't convict her of murder 1. Not a single soul--save perhaps the other sociopath/psychopath folks like her. But even if she's "mentally ill" like Charlie Manson is mentally ill, why should the government take care of her for the rest of her life? Even her own family doesn't want that job now that they know the truth, and frankly, I think it's too much of a drain on finances.
It's my father's fault. It's my mother's fault. It's my brother's fault. When does it get to be HER fault? I mean, there comes a time when you must be held responsible for your actions. I also think Charlie Manson should fry.
I mean, come ON people--clean out the gene pool! Do we really want people like that breeding?
I know it's just my opinion and all, but good heavens. There's got to be justice done somewhere, somehow.
A little girl was murdered. You don't duct tape the head or nose/mouth of a child that has already died by drowning.
There, I said it.
There's just not a single stupid person in the WORLD who wouldn't convict her of murder 1. Not a single soul--save perhaps the other sociopath/psychopath folks like her. But even if she's "mentally ill" like Charlie Manson is mentally ill, why should the government take care of her for the rest of her life? Even her own family doesn't want that job now that they know the truth, and frankly, I think it's too much of a drain on finances.
It's my father's fault. It's my mother's fault. It's my brother's fault. When does it get to be HER fault? I mean, there comes a time when you must be held responsible for your actions. I also think Charlie Manson should fry.
I mean, come ON people--clean out the gene pool! Do we really want people like that breeding?
I know it's just my opinion and all, but good heavens. There's got to be justice done somewhere, somehow.
Tuesday
A long weekend sure doesn't seem like a long weekend. However, things may occur today that will take me out of the office for a while--perhaps earlier than I expect. We'll see.
I'll take my knitting just in case.
I'll take my knitting just in case.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Memorial Day
I always lament when this day comes, because it is the last day of the three day weekend, and it means that tomorrow I have to go to work again. I need a vacation pretty badly, but I'm in no position to do so. I'm trying so hard to build up my hours so that I can take a nice long two week vacation, and it is really slow going.
Last night, hubby and I watched a special on 60 Minutes about a fellow who broke away from his unit in Afghanistan to save his best buddy from being carried away by Taliban soldiers, risking his life and limb, obtaining his dying buddy and bringing him back to safety. The young man won the Medal of Honor for his heroism, but he would give it up in an instant if he could have his buddy back. And of course, the show had all it's standard fare for folks from the past who'd won the medal as well.
Then they broke away from this and exposed the fighting at the border between Afghanistan and Pakistan. Our Army and Marines are telling the television expositor that they are basically fighting Pakistanis--Pakis that are coming to the aid of the Taliban in droves that keep on coming.
It sounded like an advertisement that our President should head on into Pakistan and begin the conflict there as well, since they seem to want to join in the fight...never mind they want to join the wrong side, but that's just my own opinion. Perhaps they are just confused? Or maybe we're over there getting shot at for the wrong reasons ourselves? Never mind that this is approximately where Osama was found and killed, I believe, though I could be wrong. Our government sounds like it has decided that the Pakistani government didn't know Osama was there. If that's the case, then WHY are these people getting shot at and killed for a man who was obviously setting up their relatives for massacre?? I don't know, and it boggles my mind. It would seem that plausible deniability has become the M.O. for Muslims in this part of the world, but these Paki people are doing zip to hide their part in the plan. Then again, the whole show could be propaganda--still, flying bullets and hiding a female news commentator inside the ATV were pretty convincing. The cameraman was a soldier, too, so at times, he would sit the camera down in order to take up arms and fight. It was pretty harrowing. The news commentator was hiding on the floor trying not to be a target.
And it is just a matter of time before our president decides to go in and take care of business. I'm sure he's much better at getting "intelligence" about the matter than one 60 Minutes news commentator. Why she would go into the fray like that with people who are so anti-woman is quite beyond my understanding.
She was British, too, which I suppose only exacerbated matters. (Sorry, that's the Scot in me.), AND blonde (ok, that's the female in me.). She had it coming. (Just kidding.) And she was pretty scared, and did everything that the man entrusted with her care told her to do. She fumbled with the door handle on the humm-vee and he grabbed it for her, covering her body as he did so, while shots rang out and rpg's and mortars were being fired all around them. All you heard was "snap snap snap" and "feu----" just like during the 4th of July when the fireworks get shot off, then a "kudgeboom" as the mortar hit pay dirt. It was pretty noisy.
So, I think you can count on the fighting continuing, and not only that, but that the president will likely drop some troops behind the lines in Pakistan and get these Taliban supporters, capture and bring them in. It's just gotten to be too long, and basically, I think the Pakistani government owes us. Added to that, we're a little tired, the average american human, of this whole terrorist business. Boys like their war games, I suppose, and war has gotten to be pretty high tech. A marine can't go into the fray without lots and lots of training. But our boys keep getting shot and keep dying. Mothers and Fathers are losing their sons. It can't be just because the economy is bad over here.
All my opinion, and based on what I see on the propaganda cube that we call television. I don't believe everything I watch on television, but the fellow who did most of the talking, he didn't seem to be telling tall tales.
After this, hubby and I watched a National Geographic show about the caves in Upper Mustang, (pronounced Moose-tang, even though it looks like a Chevrolet), which is an area of Nepal. There are lots of cave openings in the mountains, very unforgiving terrain, and this expedition group of rock climbers and historians and archeologists were climbing up and down, going in, documenting, taking pictures of wall art, etc. It was really quite something. One of the caves they climbed to (no mean feat trust me because the mountain face was made of sand and pebbles that was not conducive to proper climbing condition), had a TON of writing in it--writing that looked suspiciously Arabic, but was thought to be very old Nepalese. It was done in ink on lined paper, and as they were taking pictures, it looked for all the world like they were showing it to us "upside down". I wondered to myself if it was actually upside down and backward, but that's just me in my Leonardo kick. It could have been children learning their letters for all I knew, but there was a lot of it, and the printing was pretty artsy--so I figured that it was done by someone or other who'd been at it for a long while, and goodness knows what it meant. Of course, they couldn't take the documents with them. They had to leave everything and take pictures. The paintings on the walls were done by some pretty outstanding artists, too, no matter how long they'd been studying. Pictures by the score were taking.
The team was only able to document about 4 caves, as they had only a month's permission to work on the project. They brought their children with them. I thought it was a wonderful thing to expose kids to, again, that's just me--but what an adventure!? Rock climbing, cave exploring, finding lost artifacts--all archeologists would love to get their hands on this kind of project. It takes years to prepare for a month's work. The show was an interesting documentary.
Today, hubby and I are celebrating his birthday at his mothers. I've already purchased his pressies and given them to him. A pair of pants, 3 shirts and a Josh Turner cd with his favorite country song on it "Long Black Train". He was really excited about the clothing, since he hasn't many short sleeved shirts that aren't work shirts in his closet, and the cd was just the cat's meow.
We're going to have brownies at his mother's house. We might go fishing. Personally, I'm ALL about the fishing. There was a storm yesterday, and his mother's house lost a tree. Had we celebrated yesterday, our car would have gotten crushed. Mother's house and barn are fine however. The tree, though is done for. I think it was one that she had a face nailed to--we'll check it out when we get there.
We just heard that the kid's in laws lost their power, and have no electric to run the sump. It's taking in water in a finished basement, and that means MONEY. So we're working on getting them a generator to use.
Well, we got that all straightened out, then went over to Hubby's mom's for his birthday brownie and supper. We spent most of the day there in the comfort of the air conditioning. Then we came home, in the air conditioned car. When I got out of the car the humidity nearly knocked me over. It was like stepping into a furnace!
I came into the house, and it's pretty stuffy in here, but the windows have been closed all day, so the humidity hasn't made it into the house much at all. I turned on the fans, and things indoors are cooling off a tad. Not sure how we're going to sleep this evening, but it's too late in the day to try to put in the window air conditioner, so we'll sleep (some) without it.
I'll be going to the office in the morning.
My friend has messaged me on my phone that she needs a ride to a State Office. Apparently, she can't get the help she needs from her daughter--too busy or not enough time. I have no idea if she got an appointment on Tuesday or not. I can't seem to reach her daughter on her cellular, so it's sort of hard to work things out. I'm hoping that I can reach her on Facebook or on Yahoo tonight to know what needs to be done. We shall see.
In the meanwhile, it's nearly 9:30pm. I have to take my meds and so does hubby. I'll let y'all know what transpired on my Tuesday workaday tomorrow. :) L8s!
Last night, hubby and I watched a special on 60 Minutes about a fellow who broke away from his unit in Afghanistan to save his best buddy from being carried away by Taliban soldiers, risking his life and limb, obtaining his dying buddy and bringing him back to safety. The young man won the Medal of Honor for his heroism, but he would give it up in an instant if he could have his buddy back. And of course, the show had all it's standard fare for folks from the past who'd won the medal as well.
Then they broke away from this and exposed the fighting at the border between Afghanistan and Pakistan. Our Army and Marines are telling the television expositor that they are basically fighting Pakistanis--Pakis that are coming to the aid of the Taliban in droves that keep on coming.
It sounded like an advertisement that our President should head on into Pakistan and begin the conflict there as well, since they seem to want to join in the fight...never mind they want to join the wrong side, but that's just my own opinion. Perhaps they are just confused? Or maybe we're over there getting shot at for the wrong reasons ourselves? Never mind that this is approximately where Osama was found and killed, I believe, though I could be wrong. Our government sounds like it has decided that the Pakistani government didn't know Osama was there. If that's the case, then WHY are these people getting shot at and killed for a man who was obviously setting up their relatives for massacre?? I don't know, and it boggles my mind. It would seem that plausible deniability has become the M.O. for Muslims in this part of the world, but these Paki people are doing zip to hide their part in the plan. Then again, the whole show could be propaganda--still, flying bullets and hiding a female news commentator inside the ATV were pretty convincing. The cameraman was a soldier, too, so at times, he would sit the camera down in order to take up arms and fight. It was pretty harrowing. The news commentator was hiding on the floor trying not to be a target.
And it is just a matter of time before our president decides to go in and take care of business. I'm sure he's much better at getting "intelligence" about the matter than one 60 Minutes news commentator. Why she would go into the fray like that with people who are so anti-woman is quite beyond my understanding.
She was British, too, which I suppose only exacerbated matters. (Sorry, that's the Scot in me.), AND blonde (ok, that's the female in me.). She had it coming. (Just kidding.) And she was pretty scared, and did everything that the man entrusted with her care told her to do. She fumbled with the door handle on the humm-vee and he grabbed it for her, covering her body as he did so, while shots rang out and rpg's and mortars were being fired all around them. All you heard was "snap snap snap" and "feu----" just like during the 4th of July when the fireworks get shot off, then a "kudgeboom" as the mortar hit pay dirt. It was pretty noisy.
So, I think you can count on the fighting continuing, and not only that, but that the president will likely drop some troops behind the lines in Pakistan and get these Taliban supporters, capture and bring them in. It's just gotten to be too long, and basically, I think the Pakistani government owes us. Added to that, we're a little tired, the average american human, of this whole terrorist business. Boys like their war games, I suppose, and war has gotten to be pretty high tech. A marine can't go into the fray without lots and lots of training. But our boys keep getting shot and keep dying. Mothers and Fathers are losing their sons. It can't be just because the economy is bad over here.
All my opinion, and based on what I see on the propaganda cube that we call television. I don't believe everything I watch on television, but the fellow who did most of the talking, he didn't seem to be telling tall tales.
After this, hubby and I watched a National Geographic show about the caves in Upper Mustang, (pronounced Moose-tang, even though it looks like a Chevrolet), which is an area of Nepal. There are lots of cave openings in the mountains, very unforgiving terrain, and this expedition group of rock climbers and historians and archeologists were climbing up and down, going in, documenting, taking pictures of wall art, etc. It was really quite something. One of the caves they climbed to (no mean feat trust me because the mountain face was made of sand and pebbles that was not conducive to proper climbing condition), had a TON of writing in it--writing that looked suspiciously Arabic, but was thought to be very old Nepalese. It was done in ink on lined paper, and as they were taking pictures, it looked for all the world like they were showing it to us "upside down". I wondered to myself if it was actually upside down and backward, but that's just me in my Leonardo kick. It could have been children learning their letters for all I knew, but there was a lot of it, and the printing was pretty artsy--so I figured that it was done by someone or other who'd been at it for a long while, and goodness knows what it meant. Of course, they couldn't take the documents with them. They had to leave everything and take pictures. The paintings on the walls were done by some pretty outstanding artists, too, no matter how long they'd been studying. Pictures by the score were taking.
The team was only able to document about 4 caves, as they had only a month's permission to work on the project. They brought their children with them. I thought it was a wonderful thing to expose kids to, again, that's just me--but what an adventure!? Rock climbing, cave exploring, finding lost artifacts--all archeologists would love to get their hands on this kind of project. It takes years to prepare for a month's work. The show was an interesting documentary.
Today, hubby and I are celebrating his birthday at his mothers. I've already purchased his pressies and given them to him. A pair of pants, 3 shirts and a Josh Turner cd with his favorite country song on it "Long Black Train". He was really excited about the clothing, since he hasn't many short sleeved shirts that aren't work shirts in his closet, and the cd was just the cat's meow.
We're going to have brownies at his mother's house. We might go fishing. Personally, I'm ALL about the fishing. There was a storm yesterday, and his mother's house lost a tree. Had we celebrated yesterday, our car would have gotten crushed. Mother's house and barn are fine however. The tree, though is done for. I think it was one that she had a face nailed to--we'll check it out when we get there.
We just heard that the kid's in laws lost their power, and have no electric to run the sump. It's taking in water in a finished basement, and that means MONEY. So we're working on getting them a generator to use.
Well, we got that all straightened out, then went over to Hubby's mom's for his birthday brownie and supper. We spent most of the day there in the comfort of the air conditioning. Then we came home, in the air conditioned car. When I got out of the car the humidity nearly knocked me over. It was like stepping into a furnace!
I came into the house, and it's pretty stuffy in here, but the windows have been closed all day, so the humidity hasn't made it into the house much at all. I turned on the fans, and things indoors are cooling off a tad. Not sure how we're going to sleep this evening, but it's too late in the day to try to put in the window air conditioner, so we'll sleep (some) without it.
I'll be going to the office in the morning.
My friend has messaged me on my phone that she needs a ride to a State Office. Apparently, she can't get the help she needs from her daughter--too busy or not enough time. I have no idea if she got an appointment on Tuesday or not. I can't seem to reach her daughter on her cellular, so it's sort of hard to work things out. I'm hoping that I can reach her on Facebook or on Yahoo tonight to know what needs to be done. We shall see.
In the meanwhile, it's nearly 9:30pm. I have to take my meds and so does hubby. I'll let y'all know what transpired on my Tuesday workaday tomorrow. :) L8s!
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Nearly Recovered
I slept like a baby after 11 last night, having taken a sleeping pill, I was off to la-la land. I slept really well, but Mandy woke me at 5:30am to go potty, and well, I guess I needed to as well. l let her outside to go, but I used the indoor plumbing. It seems safer that way--wouldn't want to frighten the neighbors--even if they are up this early on a holiday weekend, which I seriously doubt.
Hubby has purchased about 3 ton of landscaping bricks, and a couple ton of corn, which I haven't seen yet, but I guess that's for the winter season's heating. He's going to go all around the house with them. Personally, I'd rather shoot myself in the foot, but that's just me. Apparently, he's going all around the house with these things, and he's going to plant a bunch of flowers. I have no idea what's got this idea into his head, but he's decided that he's going to *do* something to keep him occupied this summer.
Since he's sort of a "sit in my chair and play video games" sort of person, I expect this "idea" to last until the bricks are in place, and then he will most likely go back to his chair, and leave the flowers for next year. But should he follow through all the way with this "idea", I'll have lots of pictures to show you as the work progresses, and I think it might be a marked improvement.
As for myself, it's only 5:30am, and I think I might crawl back under the covers where it's quite warm. It is, after all only 59 degrees outdoors, and I'm not willing to go outside with the mosquitoes. They are too hungry, and I'm not willing to part with my blood for love or money, let alone mosquitoes. First, though, I think I will thin my blood a little with a can of Diet Coke, and a brief "how do you do" to you. Later, I might go to the car and unload from the Alma games--bring in my knitting and try my hand at that.
I found some laceweight yarn on Ravelry--about 3900 yards of it. With it, I plan to work on Triggy, which I've been meaning to do, but haven't had enough yarn to work it. Or I might work on another circular shawl. They go over so well at Alma, and they keep me warmer than the triangle shawls--perhaps because I an double them, and they are big enough to cover my shoulders, back, front and what not else. I did enjoy working on the Civil War Shawl, but it took almost $100 in yarn. I truly don't think I will make it again, no matter how easy it was. There are a couple of shawls that are touted as circular blankets, but take a lot more than 3900 yards. No, I think that this time, I will work a Triggy, or perhaps a Queen Anne's Lace or something like what Mario has in his Yahoo Group.
Beyond that, I really have no idea what the plan is. I'll have to let you know. Wish me luck!
Hubby has purchased about 3 ton of landscaping bricks, and a couple ton of corn, which I haven't seen yet, but I guess that's for the winter season's heating. He's going to go all around the house with them. Personally, I'd rather shoot myself in the foot, but that's just me. Apparently, he's going all around the house with these things, and he's going to plant a bunch of flowers. I have no idea what's got this idea into his head, but he's decided that he's going to *do* something to keep him occupied this summer.
Since he's sort of a "sit in my chair and play video games" sort of person, I expect this "idea" to last until the bricks are in place, and then he will most likely go back to his chair, and leave the flowers for next year. But should he follow through all the way with this "idea", I'll have lots of pictures to show you as the work progresses, and I think it might be a marked improvement.
As for myself, it's only 5:30am, and I think I might crawl back under the covers where it's quite warm. It is, after all only 59 degrees outdoors, and I'm not willing to go outside with the mosquitoes. They are too hungry, and I'm not willing to part with my blood for love or money, let alone mosquitoes. First, though, I think I will thin my blood a little with a can of Diet Coke, and a brief "how do you do" to you. Later, I might go to the car and unload from the Alma games--bring in my knitting and try my hand at that.
I found some laceweight yarn on Ravelry--about 3900 yards of it. With it, I plan to work on Triggy, which I've been meaning to do, but haven't had enough yarn to work it. Or I might work on another circular shawl. They go over so well at Alma, and they keep me warmer than the triangle shawls--perhaps because I an double them, and they are big enough to cover my shoulders, back, front and what not else. I did enjoy working on the Civil War Shawl, but it took almost $100 in yarn. I truly don't think I will make it again, no matter how easy it was. There are a couple of shawls that are touted as circular blankets, but take a lot more than 3900 yards. No, I think that this time, I will work a Triggy, or perhaps a Queen Anne's Lace or something like what Mario has in his Yahoo Group.
Beyond that, I really have no idea what the plan is. I'll have to let you know. Wish me luck!
Saturday, May 28, 2011
I Am So VERY Sorry!
I took my phone into the Highland Games with the intent to blog and picture every few feet, then blog quick little quips about the picture.
By the time opening ceremonies came, I found that my phone battery had died and I was all done blogging. I was heartbroken. This year was the very best opening ceremonies, and you've all missed it, thanks to me. I am so apologetic, that I can barely stand it.
And I am so sore that I can barely stand
Or sit
So I've spent the last two hours in bed, trying to recover.
The day was not so beautiful, but it didn't rain. It wasn't hot. It wasn't cold. It was darn near perfect bagpipe weather, and everyone sounded so wonderful. I had hoped for a quick video from one of the two top bands--pfft. No camera.
But it was a wonderful day. My friend Ray and I dined on fish and chips afterward, and by the time it was time to leave, I was too tired to really announce it. I drove home, and took off my shoes, turned on the cruise, then took off my socks, 'cuz my feets gotta breathe!
For those who didn't go, my golly, I feel so sorry for ye! It was a grand time, and I even met a scotsman! And he was just a-talkin' and pretty soon I was just a-talkin' right back to him! I asked him
"What brought you to MICHIGAN, for crying out loud!"
And he said--
"There are three stories that I tell ladies when they ask me that question", said he. And I reply--
"Do any involve sheep?" To which he laughed, and told me that he'd tell me the "clean" story.
"I told this one lady in a bar once," he said, "that when I first came here, I was a dentist, and that I met another dentist in a similar bar as this one. I told her that we got to talking, made fast friends, and decided to trade practices now and then. Once in a while, he'd take over for me in Scotland, and I'd take his practice in the USA. And then I'd smile and show her how good my business was doing."
At this point he smiled and showed off several missing teeth, and we both had a turn of LOL.
I met several similar characters throughout the day. I talked about spinning and how it works, listened to the bands play, looked around for my friend Ray, browsed the tourist and crafts, spun some, and just generally tired myself out totally.
When I felt it was time to go, I located Ray, put my wheel in it's case and transported it, backpack style, along with a bag of wool, a bag of knitting and my lawn chair, and we hot-footed it to the car. I think *that* is what did me in--because I couldn't get close with my car before the whole show, and I couldn't get close with my car when I was ready to go, so I had to carry my things back and forth. It just plain wore me out.
Tuckered, I was!
So now, having had a moment's respite, I am blogging the last of my day at the Alma Highland Festival. Ray and I had dinner (fish and chips) and then I drove home in bare feet. Then crawled into bed for a couple hours to recover.
And there you have it. Pretty much. You should have been there to see it. It was GREAT.
City of Chicago won 1st Place Grade I--of course, I don't know this, but having listened to it, I figure that had to be the turnout. Peel Police came in a distant 2nd, IMHO. I didn't even hear the other Grade I band--but Chicago has Chris Barr--the premier drumming instructor this side of the Mississippi, both in the USA AND CANADA...yes, don't be silly. I know Canada doesn't reach the Mississippi...or would the be vice versa? Still a little addled in the brain, I suppose.
Did I say I had a great day?
Well, I came home with one of those ceramic wine glasses. It's blue and is it ever pretty. A pic for you tomorrow if you're good, but for now, it's almost 10pm, and I'm drinking Coke, and a little bit wired for all that. I think I'll head to the car and get my knitting and my phone and plug in my knitting and do some phone in my chair.
Oh, heck. You know what I mean!
By the time opening ceremonies came, I found that my phone battery had died and I was all done blogging. I was heartbroken. This year was the very best opening ceremonies, and you've all missed it, thanks to me. I am so apologetic, that I can barely stand it.
And I am so sore that I can barely stand
Or sit
So I've spent the last two hours in bed, trying to recover.
The day was not so beautiful, but it didn't rain. It wasn't hot. It wasn't cold. It was darn near perfect bagpipe weather, and everyone sounded so wonderful. I had hoped for a quick video from one of the two top bands--pfft. No camera.
But it was a wonderful day. My friend Ray and I dined on fish and chips afterward, and by the time it was time to leave, I was too tired to really announce it. I drove home, and took off my shoes, turned on the cruise, then took off my socks, 'cuz my feets gotta breathe!
For those who didn't go, my golly, I feel so sorry for ye! It was a grand time, and I even met a scotsman! And he was just a-talkin' and pretty soon I was just a-talkin' right back to him! I asked him
"What brought you to MICHIGAN, for crying out loud!"
And he said--
"There are three stories that I tell ladies when they ask me that question", said he. And I reply--
"Do any involve sheep?" To which he laughed, and told me that he'd tell me the "clean" story.
"I told this one lady in a bar once," he said, "that when I first came here, I was a dentist, and that I met another dentist in a similar bar as this one. I told her that we got to talking, made fast friends, and decided to trade practices now and then. Once in a while, he'd take over for me in Scotland, and I'd take his practice in the USA. And then I'd smile and show her how good my business was doing."
At this point he smiled and showed off several missing teeth, and we both had a turn of LOL.
I met several similar characters throughout the day. I talked about spinning and how it works, listened to the bands play, looked around for my friend Ray, browsed the tourist and crafts, spun some, and just generally tired myself out totally.
When I felt it was time to go, I located Ray, put my wheel in it's case and transported it, backpack style, along with a bag of wool, a bag of knitting and my lawn chair, and we hot-footed it to the car. I think *that* is what did me in--because I couldn't get close with my car before the whole show, and I couldn't get close with my car when I was ready to go, so I had to carry my things back and forth. It just plain wore me out.
Tuckered, I was!
So now, having had a moment's respite, I am blogging the last of my day at the Alma Highland Festival. Ray and I had dinner (fish and chips) and then I drove home in bare feet. Then crawled into bed for a couple hours to recover.
And there you have it. Pretty much. You should have been there to see it. It was GREAT.
City of Chicago won 1st Place Grade I--of course, I don't know this, but having listened to it, I figure that had to be the turnout. Peel Police came in a distant 2nd, IMHO. I didn't even hear the other Grade I band--but Chicago has Chris Barr--the premier drumming instructor this side of the Mississippi, both in the USA AND CANADA...yes, don't be silly. I know Canada doesn't reach the Mississippi...or would the be vice versa? Still a little addled in the brain, I suppose.
Did I say I had a great day?
Well, I came home with one of those ceramic wine glasses. It's blue and is it ever pretty. A pic for you tomorrow if you're good, but for now, it's almost 10pm, and I'm drinking Coke, and a little bit wired for all that. I think I'll head to the car and get my knitting and my phone and plug in my knitting and do some phone in my chair.
Oh, heck. You know what I mean!
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