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Monthly Archives: December 2012

Happy Festivus!

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No feats of strength here. I could air a few grievances, but I won’t. I’ll just say this–I’ll be home for Festivus, if only in my dreams.

The Festivus pole.

The Festivus pole.

Cocktail hour

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It was game night last night and, like they used to say in the social columns of small town newspapers, a good time was had by all. These are nice people, my game night peeps.

One of the really nice things about game night, other than the folks who come along to play, is the food and drink. Last night’s spread was exceptional, and one of the best features was the mini-bar set up over there by the microwave. Gin and tonics? Yes, please!

The only other time I’ve had a G and T, it didn’t go so well. I mixed my own and didn’t have a clue what I was doing and it was not good, so I hadn’t had a G and T for years. The ones last night, however, were perfection. I felt sort of grown up and mildly sophisticated as I sipped my big girl cocktail, and I’ve been spending some time this morning reading up on different ways to achieve the “perfect” G and T as well as researching various makers of gin. I’m really intrigued by these folks but their drink is a little spendy for a budget-minded girl like me so I’ve also been looking at less expensive, but still tasty, options. This discussion and this column have been good reading.

It’s only 11:00 a.m., but I’m looking forward to the cocktail hour!

Of note

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Two things of note today: it’s the winter solstice, the shortest day and longest night of the year as day and night engage in their yearly tug-of-war over the light. Night will be the victor once more, but tomorrow, the blessed day will begin its slow but sure winning over of the light. I welcome this day each year with gladness and a remembrance of the long days of summer with the golden light pouring down. Light is life to me, and I celebrate its gradual return.

Also of note is this: I could conceivably see 5,000 visits to the blog today. That’s pretty amazing, and I’m grateful to have had some faithful companions along the way. This little blog of mine has meant much to me and has been a valuable tool in healing my broken heart. It’s helped me move ahead, very slowly, but ahead, without moving on. My heart is still very much Mr. F’s, whether he knows it, likes it, or wants it. He is my George Bailey.

Happy solstice to you all!

ETA: I’m past the 5,000 mark now. Thank you for sticking with me!


Being a knitter

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If you’re looking for proof that the world might actually end tomorrow, here it is: I bought cheap acrylic yarn yesterday.

I’ll admit I’ve become something of a yarn snob and I haven’t voluntarily knitted with the cheap stuff for ages because life really is too short for cheap yarn, but sometimes scruples and snobbery have to sit down and shut it. This is one of those times.

Here’s why: since the horror in Connecticut, I’ve been looking for a tangible way to do some good out there. Money is just money, and while some of that went, and as much as money can be a comfort, it only goes so far. Being a knitter, I naturally turn to my sticks and string to offer comfort, not only to myself, but to others.

I found a couple of projects asking for knitted goods destined for Newtown but the items requested would take me too long, and I’ll confess I feel some sense of urgency here. I want something I can do quickly, that I can get sent yesterday, and that will help now.

So when I saw this, I knew I’d found just the ticket.  Because the knitted goods will, it’s hoped, be loved and hugged and dragged around and slept with, the yarn needs to be easy care, and that means acrylic. So I bought some, in bright cheery colors that compliment each other well, and even though it’s the cheapest of cheap yarns and not my usual yarny fare, my focus when I’m knitting up my toys will be the kids who get them, and I’m going to put a whole lotta love into every one, transforming the cheap into something much, much more. Alchemy.

Being a knitter rocks.

ETA: I dug around in my stash and actually found some acrylic, so what I bought is going back. Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without. I’m really good at applying that to other things in life, but not so much when it comes to yarn. Now is a really good time to start.

Heading for the mountain

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I’m nursing a headache today, which kind of dampens my “things that make me happy” spirit, which I’ve been continuing since Monday, because listing things that make me happy did make me happy. Despite a bit of pain, I’ve had a good morning of work, but I’m looking forward to getting offline for a while this afternoon and resting my poor eyes.

I spent several hours last night watching episodes of “The Waltons” and found myself watching with a little smile on my face. I think there may be a few more episodes later today, a real change from my usual Wednesday fare of “Criminal Minds” and “C.S.I.” I’ve had enough of cruelty and destruction, and Walton’s Mountain is looking mighty good these days. I’d love to be there right about now.

G’night, John-Boy.



A sticky situation

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There are deer roaming my neighborhood, which is not surprising since I live seconds away from a 137 acre park.  Like all wild creatures, they don’t have a concept of property lines and go walkabout through the ‘hood nightly.  I’ve watched them browse the trees and grass and have found their hoofprints in my tiny garden more than once, so I wasn’t too stunned when I looked out my patio door one morning last fall to see two of my geraniums had been nibbled down to nubbins overnight.

One had enough green left to offer some hope for recovery. The other one? Not so much. I had a pot of dirt with a stick in it. It’s a pretty pot and it’s nice black dirt, the kind we have in the fields around here except tarted up some with whatever they put in potting soil, but that didn’t change the fact that I had a potful of dirt with a stick in it.  Still, I brought it in with the rest of my plants before it froze and set it down where it was semi-forgotten. I’d look at it sometimes on accident sort of hoping for some kind of miracle, but guess what? I still had a pot of dirt with a stick in it.

Most folks probably would have thrown that stick out. I guess I’m not most folks, because I kept it, and even poured a little water on it now and then, because sticks need water. Of course they do.

I glanced at it yesterday and you know what? there was a tiny shoot of green coming up out of that dead old stick, just the smallest smudge of color. I picked it up and looked at it closer to be sure, and yep, my stick was showing every sign of coming back to life, weeks and weeks after any normal person would have given up on it.

I’m not saying there’s any kind of life lesson or metaphor in this.

Except there is.


The Happy Project

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There’s no denying the world is a grim place at times. It’s also beautiful. There are evil people; there are more good ones, I believe. Today, I’m refusing grim and evil and replacing it with happy and hopeful, and my wish is that someone else–even several someones–will be a little happier as a result.

You can play along on Facebook. No worries if we’re not friends there–for today, I’ve opened up my profile to anyone who cares to stop by. You can find me here:

Be well. Be happy. Be kind.