When we last checked in, life was, for the moment, good. Then I walked back into the house, wrote the previous post, and answered the door to a neighbor who came by to complain about all the trouble my son and his friends have been causing in the neighborhood. I heard about plum battles, broken sprinkler heads, someone throwing a watermelon at a truck and various other hoodlum-like goings-on. Protestations of innocence and questionable stories on all sides. He also informed me that "someone" called the police on them and officers were going to visit the school the next day.
Then today, I came home to an official notice to call more police or receive a $330 citation. Seems my dog was At Large. (Henry: "Where's Large?") It appears that another one of those innocent children left the gate open and Bindi went dancing around on the street after I went to work. Some helpful neighbor called the police rather than looking at her tags and putting her back inside. The pleasant officer said to me: "You know how it is, she looks like a pitbull and people think they're all killers." She seemed pretty docile to him so he put her back in her pen rather than hauling her in to the pokey. Thank you, Mr. Policemen. I wonder if he was the same one who lectured the kids at school today.
So somehow we've become one of those families who get the cops called on them twice in one day. I don't know how that happened. I guess life is still good, but we might have to move.
A bad boy and his killer dog.
If you're a diligent reader of this blog, you may know that I really dislike the t-shirts and caps and bumper stickers that proclaim in happy-go-lucky type that "Life is good."
Life is good: it must be true 'cause it's trademarked.
I feel it smacks of self-satisfaction and complacency, a sort of thumbing the nose to much of the world who is struggling to get by day to day. Or maybe I'm oversensitive.
Anyway, tonight, after I put away the groceries and was starting dinner, I realized I didn't have any onions. In my cooking universe, that's akin to not having olive oil, lemons or tomatoes -- I can't go on. So I went outside and called down the street to where a pack of boys were skateboarding. "Henry! Here's a dollar - run down to the farm stand and get me a yellow onion." Surprisingly (he's 13), he grabbed the dollar and skated off with the pack following. As I walked back up the street, enjoying the late summer air we've been briefly blessed with, I thought to myself: you know, at this moment, life is good.
To be continued...
I have a young friend coming to Bend for some academic research, who's never been to the Northwest. To orient her, I've compiled this list, in no particular order, of:
10 Things You Are Unlikely To See in the Northwest Versus the Northeast
(Note I said "unlikely" so don't start sending me pictures, thanks.)
OK, local folk, what would you add?
Three out of ten! Score!
Still slogging through the knitting xlympics (can't say the real word of course). I've finished and medalled in two events so far: Frogging Trampoline and Cowl Jump. Oh, and Synchronized Stash Busting, though I thought I splashed a bit on entry.
For this week's celebrity moment, I was interviewed by our local alternative weekly again, this time on the Ravelympics brouhaha. It was a pretty straightforward interview, going for the local angle, though I think the reporter was reaching a bit. For example, this was one of the questions:
"The USOC called Ravelympics disrespectful to athletes. What do you think about that? Do you knit to rebel against athletes or for another motivation?"
Obviously, I knit to rebel against athletes. I sit here at home, furiously knitting and muttering to myself, "Ha! That will show those finely-honed bodies!"
The interview comes out tomorrow. I can't wait to see what a knitting nerd I sound like.
Tonight's event: moebius cowl:
I'm interrupting my Olympics knitting to check in here. "Olympics knitting?" I hear you say, or maybe you didn't, but I'll explain anyway.
As you may know if you're an avid reader of this blog (i.e. my siblings), I belong to a knitting social website called Ravelry. I won't go on about it here, except to say that they hold a virtual knitting Olympics every two years. (Only it's not an Olympics! Really! Don't sue me, USOC!) There are events, teams, finish lines, medals etc.
This year I'm competing in Shawl Sailing, Frogging Trampoline (ripping out old knitting), Handspun Heptathalon, Cowl Jump and a number of other cutely-named events. It's a great excuse to sit and watch the Olympics and knit while ignoring laundry, meals, cleaning and other distracting activities. Of course, in my household that means maybe a half hour total of uninterrupted time, what with the washing machine breaking, dog getting skunked, six teens gathering for a camp-out, caring for the vacationings neighbors' plants, fish and mail and eradicating the perennial devil weed. It's a marathon, not a sprint, just like life.
I medalled! For ripping something out.
Shawl sailing: preliminaries
Another reason I love my job: cute animals.
(We're not supposed to call them cute. They're wild, dammit!)
Here's a few more if you missed them.
And you know how they say that people look like their pets?
Unfortunate resemblance. I can be prickly...
Top Ten 'cause it's Tuesday; travel edition.
Just got back from our yearly pilgrimage to the hills of North Carolina. I know some people wouldn't really call it the South but it's as close as I plan to get, so here are some highlights from the trip:
Leave it to those crafty southerners ... * Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys - 1942
Alright - moving on from the hilarity and anguish of knitters vs. the olympics. I enjoyed it - maybe too much, as I think many readers moved on. Oh well - you're still here!
Meanwhile, we're in the final prep for our yearly pilgrimage to the southeast, so I don't have time to write. Must. Clean. Bathrooms. Cleaning because my friend Chris and her daughter are coming to housesit again for the week, escaping from the burning inferno that is Phoenix. It's a great arrangement - they love to come back and visit their friends here, the dog and cats and fish are happy and at home, and I can leave knowing that all will be well. But I do need to pick up here and there so they can find the beds at least.
In the meantime, I'll share my latest crush with you as you're really a close personal friend, really. He's tall, dark and um, furry. Likes to walk around without a shirt. He doesn't talk much, or at all, actually, but communicates soulfully with his eyes and paws. He can be a bear about matches and fire and that kind of thing, but he has a good heart. We meet daily at the Museum and I sing him the Smokey song and he dances for me. It's true love.
a'howling and a'growling and a'sniffing the air...
I'm posting my past Ravelympics medals proudly on my sidebar again. My favorite part is highlighted below: our work denigrates athletes, but they'd like us to send them some anyway... Hmm, what should I knit?
It wouldn't seem to be a good idea to get 2 million people with pointy sticks angry at you, but the U.S. Olympic Committee did just that.
So it has just apologized for sending a "cease and desist" letter to a social networking site for knitters that is holding its own sort-of Olympic games.
Here's what the knotty legal dispute is about:
As Gawker reported, knitters were "in revolt" because the USOC's legal beagles got on their case this week over the website Ravelry's "Ravelympics" — featuring such competitions as the "Afghan marathon."
To the USOC, that "may constitute trademark infringement, unfair competition and dilution of our famous trademarks," as its letter to Ravelry co-founder Casey Forbes states.
"It's looking like we may have to rename the Ravelympics," Forbes said in a Ravelry post.
But his fellow fans of the knit and the purl didn't give up easily. They left a ton of messages on U.S. Olympic Team's Facebook page, hit Twitter with their complaints, and emailed the USOC. Of particular concern to many: What they felt was the letter's insulting tone.
Which led to the Olympics committee casting off the idea of going after the knitters. In a statement posted online this afternoon, spokesman Patrick Sandusky says in part:
"Thanks to all of you who have posted, tweeted, emailed and called regarding the letter sent to the organizers of the Ravelympics.
"Like you, we are extremely passionate about what we do. ...
"The letter sent to the organizers of the Ravelympics was a standard-form cease and desist letter that explained why we need to protect our trademarks in legal terms. Rest assured, as an organization that has many passionate knitters, we never intended to make this a personal attack on the knitting community or to suggest that knitters are not supportive of Team USA.
"We apologize for any insult and appreciate your support. We embrace hand-crafted American goods as we currently have the Annin Flagmakers of New Jersey stitching a custom-made American flag to accompany our team to the Olympic Games in London. To show our support of the Ravelry community, we would welcome any handmade items that you would like to create to travel with, and motivate, our team at the 2012 Games."
My half and half habit has escalated, to my waistline's detriment. I blame New England, and #1 sister.
New Englanders like cream. In New England (where I lived during my formative coffee-drinking years), when you order a "regulah" coffee, it comes with a generous glug of half and half. If you don't believe me, go to a Dunkin' Donuts. My very New England aunt used to use light cream in her cereal, and felt she was sacrificing when she cut back to half and half. And Sister #1, as my readers know, is a strong advocate of cream. She only uses non-ultra pasteurized half and half, and like many other things, I acquired the same taste. There really is a difference.
So Saturday night Henry apparently ran out of milk for his cereal fix and made do with the last of my cream (diluted with water). I woke up Sunday morning to no cream or milk. He soon learned the error of his decision, and I doubt it will happen again. So after Henry made an emergency run to the corner store and I was fortified with coffee, I did my usual Sunday Safeway shopping.
I used to buy the usual small pint size container for my coffee. Without realizing it consciously, I had moved up to the quart size some time ago. They were out of quarts this Sunday, so I reached right for the HALF GALLON. Now it sits in my fridge and frankly I feel no shame. Just the comforting knowledge that it's there for my coffee tomorrow morning.
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