"The Sixties are now considered a historical period, just like the Roman Empire."

"We idolized the Beatles, except for those of us who idolized the Rolling Stones, who in those days still had many of their original teeth."

 - Dave Barry

I graduated from high school in 1966 (insert pic of young reader, mouth agape, look of glazed incredulity on face), two years after the Beatles came on the Ed Sullivan show.  (Just to put things into historical perspective.)

One of my favourite outfits was a navy blue preppy-style suit with miniskirt, a mustard shell, mustard honey-comb textured sheer tights, and black suede "go-go" boots.  My hair was bleached blond, and my eye makeup was Twiggy, complete with painted-on lower eyelashes and Erase in lieu of lipstick.

Lips were supposed to be invisible so as not to distract from Eyes.  It probably took most of us at least an hour to create our Eyes.  Peggy Moffit (a leading model of the times before models were called "Super.") was said to have fainted once while applying Eye make-up, her concentration on the task being so intense.  I, myself, usually became a little light-headed at these moments.

My lofty goal was to look like Jean Shrimpton,  or Jane Asher at the least, which clues you in to the fact that I love role play.

I didn't leave the decoration of my bedroom out of the loop, either, speaking of imagination.  Every week when I got my allowance, I bought another two rolls of heavy duty Reynolds Wrap and wallpapered my walls.  I think it took two months to complete the job.   I put different coloured light bulbs in my pole lamp (remember those?), but Mum insisted that I remove the red one because my bedroom window faced the street, and she was afraid the passers-by would think I was open for business of the hooker type.

I don't keep up much with what teens these days are wearing, and when I checked them out yesterday, I came away clueless, as it was snowing, and almost everyone was bundled up except this one tall kid who was wearing two short-sleeved tee shirts.

Are kids today interested in what the latest style is?  Do they try to dress like the latest pop musicians/pop musicians' girl-friends?  Anorexia wasn't popular when I was a kid like it is now, so I have to think something is going on.

Ciao for now.

"Skiing combines outdoor fun with knocking trees down with your face."

"Snowboarding is an activity that is very popular with people who do not feel that regular skiing is lethal enough."

- Dave Barry

I can now take a breather, with five kinds of cookie dough in my freezer (Hermits, C.C. Foldovers, Butterscotch-chocolate chip Toll House, NeeNee's Ice Box, and Christmas Stars).  Five down, three to go.  Which three I haven't decided, because I'm going to try three new ones.

At the Coffee Skein, Don Juan told Tango he knew a shaman who could change her from being a morph if she wanted!  Tango almost had a seizure, of course.

I want to do a couple of new play boards on Maddala, but I have to come up with something not common.  Something fun.  Boards that don't require staffing, because I don't like playing multiple chars.  I will think.

I had a nice chat with the guy across the street a few days ago.  He has two sons who live in So Cal.  Everyone in Webster City has at least two sons who live in So Cal.  You'd think they'd have some kids in New York, or Tennessee, or Montana.  I mean, the odds are...well, anyway, that's probably why So Cal doesn't have a square inch of dirt left.  There sure are a lot of condos, though.

I'm almost finished with my first quilted potholder.  It's amazing what you can do without a working sewing machine.  Sure, it takes a hundred times longer, but you end up with something that probably won't hold up as long, so hey.

If I sound bitter, it's only because my mixer started smelling like burnt rubber tonight, and the top felt really, really, hot.  I've had it for thirty (30) years, so Mum says that's all I can expect, BUT.  I took such good care of it, scrubbing it after every use, covering it up so it wouldn't get dusty, and I never even chipped either one of the bowls!  So I expected it to last long enough to follow me out to the dumpster when my time came.

Speaking of the future, I got a job.  But the woman who hired me went to Mexico for surgery, so she said she'd contact me around the 20th of this month.  I'll be working something like noon to eight, with alternate week-ends.  She said they'd provide me with tenny-bops, a uniform top, and a flu shot. 

Things are a lot more fun at Crochet Depot, now that we've been more selective about who becomes members.

The Wizard Of The Month is Lorcan D'Eath, and once again, the Harry Potter books are on the list of "Most Banned Books," according to J.K. Rowling.  Banning books is an interesting concept, since it makes such books more popular, and imperative for us all to read.

I'm listening to The Cat Who Went Bananas, by Lilian Jackson Braun.  I think I need one of those portable, shoulder strap cd players so I can listen to books while I do housework.  I've tried cranking the volume, but the vacuum cleaner prevails.

Ciao for now.

a

Some bright morning when this life is over

I'll fly away

To that home on God's celestial shore

I'll fly away

I'll fly away oh glory

I'll fly away (in the morning)

When I die Hallelujah! by and by

I'll fly away

When the shadows of this life have gone

I'll fly away

Like a bird from these prison walls I'll fly

I'll fly away

I'll fly away oh glory

I'll fly away (in the morning)

When I die Halleluja! by and by

I'll fly away

Oh how glad and happy when we meet

I'll fly away

No more cold iron shackles on my feet

I'll fly away

I'll fly away oh glory

I'll fly away (in the morning)

When I die Hallelujah! by and by

I'll fly away

Just a few more weary days and then

I'll fly away

To a land where joys will never end

I'll fly away

I'll fly away oh glory

I'll fly away (in the morning)

When I die Hallelujah! by and by

I'll fly away

Rachel Marie, Mum and Rex's little tabby cat, and Suzy's playmate, flew away this morning.  I buried her mortal remains among the ferns. 

And now, Harry, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, Adventure.  

Albus Dumbledore (The Half-Blood Prince)

Wait.  I didn't mean your opinion of the Harry Potter books, per se.  I meant, your opinion of some of the things that have transpired in the series and how they'll turn out.  For example:

1.   Is Harry going to be able to communicate with the former headmaster using the new portrait?

2.  Apparently, Professor Snape has been a double-agent all along.  Otherwise, he wouldn't have taken the Unbreakable Vow to finish Draco Malfoy's job should the little slime be unable to.  So what do you think the reason was that made Albus Dumbledore so sure the professor would be loyal to the Order Of The Phoenix?

3.  Ron and Hermoine stated that they are determined to help Harry in his pursuit of the remaining horcruxes.  If, as he said, Harry doesn't return to Hogwarts, how will Ron and Hermoine be able to?

4.  Who is R.A.B?  If there has been no clue in the previous books, this seems a little odd since there's only one book left to go.

5.  Who do you think is going to kill Greyback?  I vote for Remus Lupin or Nymphadora Tonks.

So now it's your turn.  If you answer those questions, you can post questions of your own by emailing me.  I will put them in an update here.

Buona Sera

Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Christ.  In a misguided attempt to make everyone feel "included," there are those among us who have tried to re-name this celebration, have tried to neutralize it, water down the meaning behind it,  make it generic.  They want to change it so that people who do not believe in Christ will not have to speak, read, or hear His name in the theory that doing so would be highly offensive to non-Christians.

The strange thing is that I haven't heard of anyone presuming to tell Jewish people to re-name Chanukah.  The Miracle Of The Oil is safe from meddlers so far.  No one is trying to pretend that Judah Maccabee (the Hammer) and his army didn't exist.  No one has suggested it be called, "Candle Day."   

Has anyone suggested to the Muslims that they not celebrate Mawlid-al-Nabi?  That they should call it instead, "Spring Holiday," so we can all join in?  I think not.

When was the last time you heard of anyone trying to change Gautama Buddha's birthday celebration by calling it something non-offensive so that those of us who aren't Buddhists can feel part of the group?

Let's stop trying to include everyone in everything.  Yes, I know you were brought up not to hurt anyone's feelings.  Your mother undoubtedly made you give everyone in your third grade class a Valentine's Day Card so no one would feel left out.  That was the Right Thing To Do.  But you're not in elementary school anymore.  No one expects you to give every Tom, Dick, and Harry a Valentine's Day card now that you're a grown up.  And I doubt very seriously if Tom, Dick, and Harry are offended.

So leave our religious holidays alone.  As for agnostics and atheists, meh.  If they want to join in, fine.  If not, not.

If you can't take a little bloody nose, maybe you ought to go back home and crawl under your bed.  It's not safe out here.  It's wondrous...but it's not for the timid.  -  Q

Fear/Anxiety, is like a vampire, sucking all the juice out of life.  I see it a lot in other people, and I despise it in myself.  It's just the handiwork of Beastie, but you have to be on guard against it or you'll find life changing into something...pathetic.  Pathetic and despicable and sad.  Best just to suck it up and soldier on.  "I am hurt, but I am not slain!  I will lay me down and bleed awhile; then I'll rise to fight again."

I got this email telling about a spider who apparently likes to live under toilet seats.  These spiders have allegedly bitten and killed numerous sitees in restaurants, on airplanes, in hotels, etc.  The person who wrote the email exhorted the readers to be sure and lift up the seat of any toilet in a public place before using said toilet.  Sounds like I should send it to Hoax Buster and see what they make of it.  I'm having a hard time believing that a) a spider would be able to survive in a toilet, with all that flushing and what not going on, and b) that a spider could live where there was no prey.  I mean, spiders eat insects, right?  Well, how many insects fly around inside of toilet bowls?

?

Okay, well, outhouses, maybe.  I'll be sure and lift up the seat and check for spiders the next time I go to an outhouse.  Which will be when hell freezes over.

I'm waiting for some kind of cd from Dopey.  It's something Microsoft something Office.  Apparently I need it in order to do something for wired.  Not quite clear on what.  Anyway, Dopey is in the U.S. visiting someone and said she would mail it to me from New York or one of those East Coast states.  In the meantime, AJ is trying to teach me Computer.  I now am the proud owner of lots of spread sheets and letters and other stuff.  I have 23 wired letters sitting in my inbox, waiting for me to DO SOMETHING.  And several forwards, a couple of realies, and that one about the spiders ("Look Before You Sit").

AJ isn't on line.  I've been waiting for a while, so I think I'll email her because it's almost midnight, and my learning abilities diminish with the waning of the clock.  That's not right.  Diminish with the passing of time?  The waning of the moon?  Fly me to the moon...Moon Riverrrrr...Old Man Rih-ver...Feelin' good was good enough for me - good enough for me and my Bobbeh McGee...Feelings - nothing more than feeeeeeelings...You're no good, you're no good, you're no good, Babay, you're no goooooood...

See?  I just get silly about this time of night.  I should be doing something.  Something constructive.  Something I can point to with pride and say, "SEE???  I did that!"  Something that will STAY done.

Well, I did, actually.  Today, I sorted out my Turtle Room stationery drawer.  That's the stationery drawer in The Turtle Billie Sue's room.  So.  That's done.  Plus, I wrote a thankque very much email to Tessa for sending me two cute cheetah figurines.  Tessa is in 3 Sisters Cyber Quilting.  She said she saw the cheetahs and couldn't resist.  I'm so glad she couldn't. 

Soooooo...I think I'll check and see if Drew ever opened that email, then send one to AJ, then do something and wait half an hour more for AJ.

Is this blog entry what they call, "Stream of conciousness?"  Someone please tell me!

Buona Notte

Socks:  Barefoot

****************IMPORTANT UPDATE FOR ARACHNIPHOBES:

Yeah, it WAS a hoax.  The accused, the Two-Striped Telamonia, or in some emails, Telemonia Dimidiata, isn't even venimous to humans.  What's interesting is the reason the originator of the hoax started the whole thing.  Heh.

Man's heart away from nature becomes hard.  -  Standing Bear

The lightning bugs put on quite a show tonight.  TCJ and I watched them through the living room window as they sparkled up into the air.

While we were watching, I saw someone's TV screen across the street.  Herky-jerky images in the distance.  From the sublime to the ridiculous.  I'd rather watch a bug. 

Work is getting increasingly interesting, which I didn't think was possible.  Apparently I'm working the night shift exclusively now.  On those rare times that I'm on the schedule.

I am gradually - very gradually - chipping away at my UFOs.  The sewing lemon is still working, so that helps a lot. 

I haven't been to The Gingerbread House in a while.  I hope they're able to slog along without me.  They have some Hoffman batiks, hand-dyed by islanders, that are drool-worthy to the max.  Haven't been to Hobby Lobby in a while, either, but they still send me their coupons.

Mum and Rex are going to Colorado next month to a reception.  The hostess is sending a plane to pick them up!  Mum says Donna Darlene has a beautiful house with 5 (five) guest rooms.  Sounds like my kind of house!

I joined a "Hot Tater" swap on my quilting group site.  Someone sends you two fats, then you send two on to the next person on your team.  You can keep either or both of the fats you get, but whatever you keep, you have to replace.  I hope they're qsq, because I'm such the fabric snob.  Not a yarn snob, mind you, just a fabric snob.  Oh.  "Qsq" means "quilt shop quality."  Not Joanne quality.  Not WalMart quality.  Thread count and all that, you know.  I got all qsq in the bug exchange I was in recently, thankfully.  And cute bugs they were, too. 

The Crochet Dude still has not opened his email from that woman who is so famous I don't know who she is.  It's going to get lost in the space-time continuum if he doesn't open it soon.

Speaking of that, Andrito's Bejoran meditation afghan is turning out to be brilliant.  Fushia and Royal and White.  Gorgeous.

Okay, well I have to go to bed now.

Buona notte.

Socks:  Fuzzy pink slipper boots 

I'm all in favour of keeping dangerous weapons out of the hands of fools.  Let's start with typewriters.  -  Frank Lloyd Wright (1868-1959)

Rex and I hauled the lemon and the lemon's cabinet into their car and back to Iowa Falls to the sewing machine doc today.  This time I left the bobbin in the machine.  Guess what the problem was?  The bright bulbs at the store in California that sold Mum the bobbins, sold her the wrong kind!  They were too tall.  Not tall enough so that they didn't fit and you would notice, just tall enough so they screwed everything up.  So we didn't trade it in for a different machine after all, despite the advice from the doc to never buy another Singer ever again.  Rex asked him if he'd take it in trade, and the doc said he had 75 Singers sitting in the basement.  Heh.  We took that as a "No."

But we brought it home and so far, so good.  I was able to buy three of the right size bobbins and also a darning foot, which is what people use to machine quilt I've heard.  I've never machine quilted before, but hey, I'm willing to give it a shot.  Part of my willingness stems from the fact that my wall hangings can't be hand quilted due to the amount of layers - in some cases, seven, not including the batting.

The Cat Joshua is a little frustrated now, having rid our domicile of the mice silly enough to come to a house with a resident marmalade Maine Coon.  I was successful in implementing the "Catch And Release" program with all but one hapless mouse.  The Cat Joshua would catch a mouse.  I would pick him up and jostle him, whereby he would release said mouse.  I would toss The Cat Joshua into the bathroom, slam the door, and then chase down the mouse myself, and put a plastic flower pot upside down on it as a kind of make-shift prison.  I would then  slide a thick piece of cardboard underneath (slowly, so as not to damage teeny feet), and then, on my hands and knees, push it to the front door, open the door, push it out onto the porch, and then lift up the pot.  E Voila!  The mouse would trot down the front steps and hustle off into the night.  (Hopefully to warn all its little gray buddies not to go to the house with the orange monster.)

I don't want you to think, however, that I was always this accomplished in rodent rescues.  The first time, it was about ten at night and I was taken by surprise and had no plan, so it was a real amateur hour.  The mouse ran under the couch, I ran over and opened the front door and jumped up and down on the couch to scare it out.  Nothing.  By the way, you have to understand that in back of the couch is a picture window looking onto Betsy Lane.  Anyway, I didn't know what to do when no mouse ran out, so I got the vacuum and started vacuuming, ramming the cleaner against the couch.  Still nothing.  Okay, so by this time I was sure the mouse was dead or dying or maimed.  I didn't know what to do.  I didn't want to see a suffering mouse, but I had to do something because The Cat Joshua was ripping down the bathroom door and cursing me in three different languages.  So, I sucked it up and started moving the couch, slowly, very slowly (like a loris), my eyes almost closed against the gruesome sight I was sure to uncover.  I almost had a heart attack when I saw the little gray body.  The little gray body of The Cat Joshua's catnip mouse!  It was the exact same colour of the live mouse!  Anyway, I don't know if the real mouse went out the front door and I didn't see him, or if he just hid, or what, but I wonder if any of the neighbors saw me jumping up and down on the couch, then wildly vacuuming, all the while with the front door and the screen door open?  As I recall, I was wearing my hot pink Hawaiian shirt, my dark green boxers, and my Dollar General boot socks.  And of course, for perfume, Norell.  Or was it Cinnabar?  I know it wasn't Chamade, because they discontinued that and I'm all out.

Buona notte.

Socks:  Nero e rosa  

Happy Mother's Day!