Chicken took care of putting photos in the blog--of course, not that I prefer to be seen on the www with cat-butt in my face on a daily basis, but, well, now that you've seen how the family is growing (and isn't the family resemblance between Mate and T remarkable?) I can ramble on about nothing and not fret about the fact that blogger hasn't downloaded pictures for ME for weeks, and yet Chicken can just dump, like, five all in one day.
And really, besides getting some illicit reading time in (Kresley Cole's A Hunger LIke No Other...mmmmmmm. Tasty.) I haven't done much. His royal prickweenie came in today and after noting that in spite of the two week backlog of lesson plans tacked to my wall, I didn't have TODAY'S particular lesson plan available (I was absent Friday--I do them after school, sue me!!!!) he smiled, flickered out his forked tongue, and slithered away. Uhm, can we all say it in tandem? DU-UDE! I hope he comes by tomorrow. I'm watching a movie.
Anyway, Roxie (bless her!) reminded me to count my blessings, and I did want to say that although I'm not very vocal about it, I do count my blessings. In fact, sometimes I AGONIZE over my blessings. You know--I have so many blessings and just enough dubious gifts that I'm not sure where the controlling force in the universe wants me to invest my very limited time, sort of agonize? But I never forget that I'm lucky in that I have these sorts of choices. Ever. (Thanks, Roxie--it's probably very positive to actually hear that voiced, and Donna Lee, one very sweet birthday spring chicken, has lamented that there might not be enough niceness in the world. I wanted to do my part.)
And other than that? Hm. I finished my travelling socks. For those unaware, the traveling socks have been with me for about 3 months--I ONLY work on them at stoplights, lunch and staff meetings. You'd think that, with my short attention span and generous stash, I'd be happy to send the generous portion of leftovers (Schaeffer's Anne) on to someone else, like I do, but I must have some sort of deep and abiding torch for these colors--they're gold and wheat and purple--you know, fruited planes and purple mountains majesty sort of colors? Anyway, unthinkably after three months, they're still turning me on. I may make Ladybug some socks--or even a friend some fingerless mitts. But first...
But first I need to stick my tongue out at the Knitting Goddess' flaky younger sister, the Baby-knitting Goddess, who did the following to me: After shamelessly nagging my co-worker, Cael (the nice young man who took the picture that managed to make me un-frightening) to by all the gods at once, TELL ME what the gender of his impending baby might be, and TELL ME when the baby was due, told me both: It's a girl, dure in February. Which means, to me, that I can start the sockies and hat right after the Christmas dementia and strikke-along has faded from memory. Of course, that was before my morning e-mail when he TOLD ME that the shower is in frikking NOvember, right after Thanksgiving. Dumb ass men--do they think we knit in our sleep?
By the way--if I had a wee bit more time and computer savvy, I'd totally glom Bells' "Stash without guilt" button, because these are deep and lovely principles that I totally would love to abide by. As it is, I just have to let that main idea float across my addled brain pan every now and then so I can gaze covetously and lovingly at my yarn boxes and hiss "mine, my precious...it's all mine..."
Someday, I will take pictures again...probably of Ladybug running gleefully down the hall with a roll of deodorant in one hand and a hand knitted sock in another...