Wednesday, November 29, 2006

One Would Hope

Your Language Arts Grade: 100%

Way to go! You know not to trust the MS Grammar Check and you know "no" from "know." Now, go forth and spread the good word (or at least, the proper use of apostrophes).

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I certainly would hope that I would have a 100% on this! Otherwise, I should take up a new profession...say cat ass cleaning, or wiffle ball batting dogs who eat the sofa, or teaching my children swear words.

Oh wait!

I already do those things...

Sunday, November 26, 2006


As in two Thanksgivings...the one we shared with the very gracious Amy and Steve: was just not enough and so, Saturday morning a quick trip to the grocery store netted us this: and four hours later, we were in business and up to our elbows in gravy, cranberry sauce, broccoli and cauliflower casserole, and yummy turkey.


That is how we roll here Chez Finley, people, that is how we roll. One Thanksgiving is just not enough for us. No way. No how. Two. Two is where it's at.

While at Amy and Steve's, she offered to model her one completed sock. Voila!She pretended not to see the ladders...precious girl.

Saturday was also an early Christmas here, as my Christmas gift was delivered and I convinced (or maybe strong-armed would be a more apt description!) my husband into letting me have it early.Boy Howdy! That is my very own iPod nano, my lovelies...and it rocks. Of course, I had to go out and buy a pink case for it. You couldn't imagine I would leave it all silver and boring, could you? Don't be silly.

Amy's socks? The second one is more than half done! I know, don't let the shock overwhelm is a miracle. Three months to knit the first one...three days to knit the second. I cannot explain it. I must have appeased the Sock Goddess in some way. Maybe because the first thing I listened to in earnest on my iPod was a knitting podcast?

I dunno, but I am not questioning too much. After all, I'm not done yet. I'm just sayin'.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006


One of Amy's socks done (complete with heinous ladders, of course, what else can be expected from this project but more drama...these are Diva Socks!):

One more hat for Rachel's Soaring Eagles Project:One Bug with a Bubble Bath Beard:

One day until Thanksgiving...

I hope you have all the turkey, stuffing, parades, food coma, and football that your little heart can stand...

...and that you are with the ones you are the most thankful for.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Why I Will Not Be Getting a "Mother of the Year" Award Any Time Soon

Note: this entry contains objectionable words, if this offends you, please do not read it. If you know me in real-life, you will not be shocked, as you have heard me use these words on a fairly regular basis. If you are my employer, or a parent of one of my students who have found this secret blog by way of the nefarious Google...then just understand, I am only human, I use bad there.

So, on our long trip to Virginia back in August, I may have, er, accidentally, used a bad word in front of my two year old.

The word may have, in fact, been used more than once, in anger, directed at stupid drivers in various acts of fuckwittage. The word in question is, of course, the generic and universally used term for all people who are not like us, could never strive to be as good as us, and have no hope of ever redeeming themselves in the collective eyes of humanity.

The word is...


I may have vehemently screamed the word at the top of my lungs when cut off on a three lane stretch of the New Jersey Turnpike by a tractor trailer who randomly and quickly decided that he needed to be in the middle (my) lane, when there was not a soul in front of him, or behind him for that matter. I may have yelled, "Asshole Truck!" I may have. I must have. I am certain that I did.

Two miles down the road, when a car legitimately pulled in front of me and came to a stop at the toll booth, a tiny, precious voice from the middle row of seats in the Mommy-mobile, may have called out exuberantly, "Asshole Car!" Clear as a bell, no mistaking what he was saying.

There was horror, but then, also, laughing behind the hands by his shocked mother and delighted older brothers. Due to the positive response, of course, the phrase was repeated, and repeated, and re-freakin'-peated many times on the rest of the drive to Chesapeake, Virginia. He loved to call it out at red lights. Apparently, in his mind, they were being assholes by stopping and holding us up.

Anyway, upon our arrival his father was less than thrilled, although, truth be told, I am sure, amused, at his latest vocabulary acquisition. It was remarked upon that it was ironic that we cannot understand much of what this child says, and yet, that one phrase was pristinely clear and properly enunciated.

As these things often do, the phrase quickly passed out of favor with the Bug and was replaced with "Oh My God!" which admittedly, isn't all innocence either (I'd prefer, "Oh my goodness!") but beggars can't be choosers, and if wishes were horses, then beggars might ride.

(My mother says this all the time, and it horrifies me that it just came rolling right off the keyboard, apparently it is true and we do become our mothers at a certain point...although I was hoping that it would be much later in life, and also?, I am relatively certain that my mother never taught us a curse word by example--but I digress).

So, the phrase disappeared from common usage around here with much relief and jubilant freedom in being able to take the child out in public with very little worry of a repeat performance.


yesterday, when said Bug took his Matchbox cars out and arranged them in a traffic jam on the coffee table, bumper to bumper. One car got nudged and ended up sideways in the row. He noticed it eventually and flicked it onto the floor whilst screeching, "Asshole Car!" at the top of his lungs.

At least he hasn't started calling people "douchebags" or "fuckwits"...

... yet...

Saturday, November 11, 2006

An Open Letter to the Sock Goddess

Dear Sock Goddess,
I am not sure what I did to piss You off, but whatever it was, I beseechingly ask for Your forgiveness.

I have now frogged the fourth incarnation of Amy's birthday socks and have tenuously cast on for the fifth version. It has become increasingly clear to me that the knitting of these socks is, in fact, cursed in some way.

At first, I blamed the pattern. Too complicated for me to follow while I was busy juggling life and job and also knitting. (For the record, I love Grumperina's pattern, and this blaming of the pattern really was more about blaming myself for my inability to follow it).

Then, when that didn't solve the issue, I blamed the yarn. The lovely Lorna's Laces yarn that clearly, is also not to blame. That yarn is such a trooper! It has probably been frogged and re-knit about 8 times so far, and it is holding up like a champ. It certainly is NOT the yarn's fault. This yarn is nothing if not a people pleaser, always willing to try again and not give up.

So...I can't blame the pattern (we are down to a plain ole stockinette sock here folks!), and I cannot blame the yarn, clearly, the yarn is stellar.

Then that only leaves two options for blame placing.

One is me, and I have to say, I am taking this whole curse thing remarkably well and in stride, yadda yadda yadda. I haven't sworn once or anything. (Those who know me in real life realize what that statement is worth. I have a mouth like a sailor on an ordinary day). So, it can't be me.

That leaves You. I must have done something to really upset You and the delicate balance of my sock knitting world, and I have wracked my brain to think of what it might be. It can't be that I didn't wait in the three freakin' hour long line at Rhinebeck for Socks that Rock yarn, can it? Even You must understand the insanity that was that line, don't You? Don't You?! So, besides that, I don't see how I have besmirched Your Greatness in any way. But I must have, there is no other explanation for the struggle that is the knitting of these socks.

Therefore, I come to You on bended knee and beg Your forgiveness for my insult or transgression and I implore you to please, please, make the struggle stop and if it isn't too much extra trouble...could You please make sure that there is no Second Sock Syndrome to deal with on this pair? If it isn't too much trouble that is. (I don't want to overstep myself here). I would greatly appreciate it.

I have left You a little sock yarn sacrifice in my knitting bag. I will humbly await Your intervention on Amy's socks. Thank You.

Your humble sock servant,

PS: The pinched nerve in my left shoulder that is causing my entire left arm to tingle and my ring and pinky fingers on my left hand to go completely numb may have been a bit mean-spirited and low for someone of Your stature and demeanor, don't You think? I'm just sayin'...

Sunday, November 05, 2006

A Weekend in Photos

One hat for Rachel's Soaring Eagles Project. It ended up kind of, um, large. Hopefully, there are some kids with serious brains at her school who need a big hat with a funky tassel.
The mailman brought me these on Saturday. The magazine is good...the book (Modern Classics by Louisa Harding) is wonderful. For once, a book with practical patterns! I want to make one of almost everything, and that hardly ever happens. I ordered it from Crafters' Choice. They have a sneak peek (last time I looked anyways!) on their main page which I have linked here. Do look. It's a great book.
Well, it finally happened...a co-worker who knows I knit asked me to work my magic on a treasured sweater. This was her favorite sweater and she's had it since 7th grade. She hasn't been able to wear it for years.

No pressure.

It was an easy fix though, it was two dropped stitches, I just used a crochet hook to reknit them up and then fastened them off on the back side with some embroidery floss. Easy.

Almost done with the lace panel on the Simple Knitted Bodice. Ignore the ugly waste yarn stitch markers. The lace pattern is pretty and easy to memorize, but I am seriously considering knitting plain sleeves. I think it will look just as pretty, and be faster too.
New birthday sock for Amy. I was right, the Lorna's wants to be simple socks. Look how pretty.

Connor had his first sleep-over last night with the boy across the street. The boy saw me knitting and said, "Cool! My Nana knits and she taught me how to crochet!" Connor's eyes lit up because he has been nervous about his buddy finding out about his knitting and thinking it was silly (read--less than masculine). So after that, he went in his room and pulled out his knitting bag and they were quiet for over an hour. They finally emerged with a crochet chain about 15 feet long. They spent the entire evening working on that chain, trying to make a World Record chain, until they googled and found out the world record is 38 miles!

Who knew?

An X-box, computer, DVD player and toys galore in that room and they were mesmerized by a $1.49 skein of Red Heart yarn from great-grandma's stash and a $0.99 plastic crochet hook!