So, I didn't even realize until Friday night-- late-- that I'd forgotten to blog Thursday night. Oi!
I figure that's okay though-- I have a FaceBook event tomorrow, HERE the January Blast, with lots of giveaways and fun stuff, along with authors Kate MacMurray and Rayna Vause. I got Kim Fielding and Tara Lain and ZAM to participate in the giveaway so it should be REALLY fun.
Anyway, that was a good enough reason to post tonight, but also... we have the saga of the mitts.
So, in a rant about cold earlier this week, I whined (moaned, bitched, kvetched, you name it) about how my hands were cold and I'd lost ONE of my beloved fingerless mitts. Now I do this EVERY YEAR. Hanging around in my house are about twelve SINGLE MITTS from the times when I lost one. Yes, that makes me your seven year old kid.
So I whined about that, and Rhae Camdyn, whom I chat with daily on FaceBook, set about making me another pair.
Because she's FRICKIN' AMAZING LIKE THAT.
I took her up on that--I had kid projects to do-- big T's scarf, a pair of mitts for Chicken, a hat for ZoomBoy (but now he wants mitts too...)
Anyway--I was eyeball deep in kid projects, and she offered to make me my own. I was blessed.
Well, I finished Chicken's mitts, and they turned out so awesome I'm on for a pair for ZoomBoy and Squish, and Rhae's are on the way...
And today... today...
Today, we went to the grocery store for a big trip (not just bread or milk or eggs.) So, in our part of California, we bring our own bags. I mean we can pay for a bag, but it's become a point of pride with me to remember my own bags--I've talked before about my bag full of bags in my bag. (I can play that game all day, don't get me started.)
Anyway, at the bottom of the bag full of bags in the bag was...
The other mitt.
THE OTHER MITT.
People, this has never happened. Not once. I have NEVER found the other mitt.
Unprecedented. But I'm so happy. I'm wearing them both right now, and they are all wool and faintly felted and... just lovely.
So, that was exciting (if you're me, and apparently live the least exciting life of all time.
Of course, I wish I'd found it last night when we were at the King's Game-- because coming home was COLD once we got off the train.
I have to say something about going to see a Kings game now. See, it used to be, we'd go to the old shitty arena which was practically out in the middle of farmland, and it felt sort of personal--but very "cow town" which is what people call Sacramento for a reason. WE WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIELD. Anyway, now, with the new arena, right in the middle of K street, taking the train to downtown feels like an EVENT. The arena is lovely (if cramped--and no, I'm not the only person to say so.)
And finally, I'll leave you with this:
This morning I drove to get my coffee and then came home and gave the family THEIR hot chocolate and took the dogs for a walk. During most of this I was having a phone conversation with a friend. It was raining--not hard, but steadily--and it didn't seem like that big of a deal to be bareheaded--I was just going half a mile, right?
And I talked and held the dogs and juggled the phone and picked up poop and...
And I walked in the house and Mate lost his shit.
"Oh my God! You're soaking wet! Your hair is dripping all over the place. You've got a hood--why didn't you use it?"
I was still juggling the phone and the dogs and now my dripping jacket. "I only have too hands!" I protested.
"PUT DOWN THE PHONE!"
Well, the person on the other end of the line LOST HER SHIT and Mate laughed his scrawny ass off--and me? I hung my jacket up outside and ran to change. I've got to admit.
I was freezing my own ass off as well.
Don't forget to stop by Facebook Tomorrow and visit! I promise-it'll be fun!