Weird MeMe

Deborah tagged me for a MeMe over at her fabulous blog. I'm supposed to come up with six weird facts. Weird isn't a problem. Weird AND interesting is more of a challenge. With Deborah having snuck into the Jackson 5's hotel and ending up in Michael's room, the bar is set pretty high. But here goes:

I can crack eggs one handed, not only one-handed, but FAST. I would love to say it comes from my professional cooking days, but it doesn't. My step-dad envisioned a retirement as a hobby-farmer and we had 100 chickens and an awful lot of barn cats when I was in high school. One of my chores was to scramble a few dozen eggs for the cats every afternoon when I came home from school, and I got pretty good at it. Later, when I did work in a restaurant, I was the only one-handed egg-cracker in the whole kitchen.

I once rode the world's tallest Ferris Wheel with all of Kiss. They were playing at the Arizona State Fair sometime in the 70's when I was a kid. They were in full costume and make-up. I had NO IDEA who they were at the time. I stared. Gene Simmons stuck his tongue out at me. Terrifying at the time, but it's the stuff memories are made of.

I was sewn into my wedding dress. No zipper. Heck, 17 years later it STILL doesn't have a zipper. I made it myself, and it wasn't quite done on the big day. John's step-mom Connie was not only a home seamstress of some experience, but had also been a dental assistant extraordinaire (She got to work on Bill Murray during the filming of Stripes)and she just whip-stitched me up the back and off I went. John cut me out with a seam-ripper sometime between the reception and the post-reception reception. (Note to any not-yet-marrieds---skip the post-reception reception if you don't want to spend your wedding night driving home drunk people.)

So far so good, but now I'm really having to thing about this. . .I don't suppose the story about my son getting bitten by a zebra counts because it wasn't me. Hmmmm. . . .

I've ridden a camel and an elephant and been licked by a giraffe.

My mother (who was a single mom at the time) had to give away a pedigreed Golden Retriever puppy because I was terrified of it when I was four. I never really wanted a dog until a couple of years ago when I ceased having baby-lust (the urge to have another baby) and started having puppy-lust. That has gotten me into all kinds of trouble.

Now I'm wishing that I had saved that Kiss story for the end, because all I can think of is that I don't like bananas or avocados because I think the texture is weird. Lame, but true.

The last part of this MeMe is I'm supposed to tag another 6 people. So if you need some blog-fodder, this is a fun one.

I Missed My Puppies!

I worried about them constantly, and unnecessarily, apparently. The kennel said they did really well while we were gone, but they seem to be glad to be home.

The rest of us are glad to be home, too, with the possible exception of John, who went back to work today. It was a good family-ful trip. Other than Uncle Dave (dare I say wired Uncle Dave?) and Connie's son Richard and his family, all the kids, grandkids and great grandkids made it to Texas for Christmas. We haven't seen the Kentucky Hamills in seven years, and lets just say the kids had grown a little. It was great to see everyone, but mostly we were there to see Grandma:

Besides burying her in gift on Christmas morning, we had some very good visiting time. She was born in 1908, and there doesn't seem to be too much of her life she can't remember. It was good to revisit the stories we had heard before, and to hear some ones that were new to us. She can remember her grandfather telling her about the Civil War battle at Harper's Ferry. She pointed out a lot of family members who died in the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918. She's a neat lady and we love her dearly.

In Texas

We arrived in Texas safely, after two absolutely problem-free flights on Southwest. John did have some trouble at PDX, he didn't realize his license had expired on his birthday 3 weeks ago, and airport security treated the invalid license as "NO ID." Funny, though. It took him a third of the time to go through extra security as it did the rest of us to stand in line for the regular TSA routine.

It's great to see the Texas family. Grandma Hamill is a looking a little frail this year. At 98 I suppose it was bound to happen sometime. Connie (John's step-mom) is working too hard. She's currently the only social worker at a 117 bed hospital, and is on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. She hasn't been around much. John's Dad is enjoying retirement. He just finished a months-long project of putting bamboo flooring in his music (audiophile music, not musician-type music) room. It looks really great.

Audrey and I made tags for the 15 stockings we'll have up Christmas morning here at the Texas Hamill's. We've done some baking. I have yet to get batteries in the camera, and I left the camera cable at home, drat it all. John and James have made a new air cannon and have been launching marshmallows impressive distances. They are going to try birdseed tomorrow.

I have started Hello Yarn's "Irish Hiking Scarf" in alpaca/silk. I haven't gotten much done, though. Airport security didn't bat an eye over the bamboo needles or the metal stitch holder I took on board the plane, but I didn't have the pattern with me. So I read a trashy novel instead.

Leaving on a Jet Plane. . . .

I'm in the final hours of getting ready for the family trip to Texas for Christmas. Usually we visit the Texas family during August, for John's grandmother's birthday, but last August our friend Missy had booked her timeshare in Maui for us during that time. The fact is that Grandma Hamill is 98 years old, and still sharp and fun to be with, and we want to spend time with her while we can. So off we go for the holidays.

I still have some laundry to do. I still have to buy dog food and take the puppies to the kennel. I still have to clean guinea pig cages and give a key to the neighbor. I have never prepared for a military campaign, but I have always imagined that packing a family of four for a trip has to be pretty similar.

I asked John if he thought airport security would have a problem with me taking my little metal cable needle on the airplane. He said no, they would let me put it in the suitcase and take it on the airplane. I said no, I wanted to take it ON the airplane. He said I told you they would let you have it in your suitcase ON the airplane. Smartass. (Better a smartass than a dumbass, right?) I gave him a look and said yes, but I wasn't going to be knitting in the baggage compartment with the suitcase. I didn't buy the plastic Clover cable needle because I had metal Boyle ones, now the yarn shops are closed and Michaels only has the metal ones. Bother. I'm pretty sure I can handle it on a dpn (double pointed needle--and a bamboo one, not an aluminum one that could be potentially dangerous,) but still. . .BOTHER.

John had to work today, and I'm picking him up at the hospital on the way out of town. For those of you who know us, and John in particular, please send positive thoughts that when I told him WE HAVE TO LEAVE BY NOON, it stuck, because this time it really means noon and not 1:30. When I drove him to work early this morning it was dark, and there had been a hard frost. I came home and searched for a digital camera, finally having to wake James up to find it in his room. It is my new camera, but I did say he could use it. I drove back out, eager to take some good shots of the frosted trees and Christmas lights. I got downtown, parked the car, focused on my first tinsel lamppost angel and took an okay, but not great shot. I got closer, refocused the zoom. . . and got the "replace battery" message and the whole thing shut down. BOTHER. KIDS! Anyway, here's my picture of one of many of the plastic and tinsel lamppost angels, which I think look perfectly small town and vintage in our circa 1920-1930 downtown:



(She's blowing a big trumpet.)

Oh, and as for the big wind storm, we didn't suffer any damage. It blew all the gates in the back yard open, but nothing more than that. The power never went out. . .but I was prepared. Although I have to tell you. . .DON'T PUT A FIRE IN THE FIREPLACE IN PREPARATION FOR A WINDSTORM (even if the power is supposed to go out.) Gusts of wind blew right down the chimney and filled the whole house with smoke and sprinkled ash over everything within about 10 feet of the fireplace.

Prepared.

How do you prepare for a possible black-out? We've got a high wind warning in effect tonight, with 70 mile per hour winds and downed trees and powerlines likely. I made six trips from the woodpile to the back porch with firewood. There's a fire in the fireplace, there's beans and chili in Thermoses and hotdogs to roast over the fire if necessary. I'm filling the jumbo thermal coffee pumper with hot water for tea and hot chocolate. I went out and stocked up on flashlights and batteries. There are board games at the ready. I suppose I should get the ironing for tomorrow morning done now, just in case.

The bad thing about the storm is I opted to call Knitdivas and tell Jenny that I wouldn't make it to my cable class tonight. It was the last class, too. I wanted to show off this swatch of an "oxo" cable I made from a chart (my first knitting chart!):



It loses some definition with the flash photo, and I used some yucky cotton yarn I got for $1 a ball because it was just a swatch. But look, I can cable!

Suddenly I Got Stupid. . .

At least that what the cat thinks. The day before yesterday I was perfectly capable of opening the door and letting him outside, and now nothing. No matter how many times he asks, how loud he yells, or how carefully he enunciates, he's not getting outside. Not only that, but it's catching, and no-one else is opening the door for him, either. It's hard to explain to a cat that one festering neck wound and a $430 vet bill will keep him inside for a couple of weeks. But that's the way it works. It's even worse than that, actually. He was going to get to stay home while we are in Texas for Christmas, and now he has to board at the vet so he can get his drainage tube out and have his antibiotic every day. Bummer.

Our own CSI experts determined that the estimated time of death of the 'possum was considerably before the cat came home wounded, and the 'possum was not the perpetrater of the neck wound. Though it's still quite possible that Bob dragged the 'possum home to share from somewhere else. He's that kind of cat. One week I was gifted with mice at all three doors to the house. He's very generous that way.

I knit today at the dentist's office. My Meunsch "Touch Me" rayon/wool chenille was much admired. I'm going back on Friday for some air abrasions and sealant, that will give me some more knitting time. Mostly I enjoy going to the dentist because it's guilt-free sitting time. Right now John and I are trying to sort out who spends the money that got socked away in the medical flexible spending account that has to be used by the end of the year. John wanted lasik eye surgery, but he is having trouble getting in to have it done before the end of the month. That could mean I get to spend it. Normally I don't object at all to spending money. But this means I would get my wisdom teeth out, which I've been avoiding for the last 5 years, because I'm a big chicken. A really big chicken.

Speaking of chicken, I have dinner to fix. Which isn't chicken, but sloppy joes.

I Don't Do Dead 'Possums

John's band has another gig tonight. We loaded up the drum riser in his band van this afternoon, and he drove off to the Cowlitz County Expo Center where he's playing after a $100 a plate fundraiser for the Women's Health Pavilion. After he left James discovered the van had been hiding a 'possum. A dead 'possum (possibly preferrable to a live 'possum.) Yuck.

Bob, our self-proclaimed alpha-cat, came home with a chunk bitten out of his neck a couple of days ago. Since then he's been a bit less bold and hearty than usual, sticking around the house, looking like the cat-eating-monkeys are waiting around every corner for him. I'm wondering if he tangled with the 'possum. Stranger things have happened. I'm just thankful that he hasn't been using the pet door since we got the puppies. Not that long ago he dragged a dead blue jay into the house in the dead of night and left it in Audrey's room. That was shock enough. I'm waiting for John to come home. I've decided disposing of dead wildlife is man-work. I will also refrain from photographing the dead 'possum.

Instead, here's a picture of my scarf from my cable class...



The natural light has been pretty awful, and things lose definition with a flash, but the alternative is to not post pictures until. . .??. . .March?? June?? I'm beginning to appreciate why so many Northwesterners take their Hawaiian vacations in the winter.

Checking in...

I haven't posted in ages. How does that happen?? Part of the problem is that it's gray and cold and rainy and hard to take pictures to accompany posts. Part of it is being busy.

I have cookies in the oven. They aren't Christmas cookies. They are oatmeal. Not even oatmeal raisin, just oatmeal. Audrey doesn't like raisins or nuts in her cookies. I will then make a sheet of ones that have raisins in them, and make the rest with nuts. Then everyone is happy, right?

The whole missing Kim family ordeal was very emotional for me. It was a local story and there was near constant coverage it seemed. I was just finishing watching Martha Stewart when they found James Kim. They reported him as being found alive and I went through that incredible lightness of being and was doing the happy/thankful dance around the livingroom when they said they made a mistake. . . sometimes I hate the media.

My puppies are in disgrace. They have figured out how to escape the fenced back yard. This is a problem. Currently they are only allowed outside for escorted potty breaks. They aren't any happier about this than we are.

I am taking a knitting class in St. Helens (Oregon) on how to make cables. This is very exciting and going very well. I tried to make cables by following pictures in knitting books, and it never seemed right--turns I WAS doing it right, it just didn't seem like it. I'll have to show pictures, it's very cool.

My best friend in Longview is moving to Utah. Utah is very lucky to be getting her. Her husband currently is commuting 55 miles each way to work, and in Utah he will live 5 miles from work. This alone is a good reason for the move. But I'll miss them.

We are going to Texas for Christmas to visit John's dad and his wife, and John's grandmother, who is our last surviving family member of that generation. They are some of our very favorite family and it will be good to see them--but it sort of wrecks havoc with the whole Christmas celebration at our house. No tree. Humbug. Unfortunately another family member with whom I do not see eye-to-eye will also be in Texas for Christmas. Sigh. I think I'll take my knitting, it's easy enough to seem totally engrossed in knitting. And wine, I think I'll take wine. Or maybe vodka.

John's office Christmas party was last week. John's band played. They were quite good, but LOUD. Much dancing was done by inebriated office girls. They are calling it a success. I got about a foot done on a really delicious scarf made out of Muensch Touch Me--then discovered and irrepairable mistake in the second inch and had to rip back, way back, so far back that it wasn't that much of a loss to take out the whole thing to change to smaller needles. Sometimes it just works that way.

The hospital Christmas party is tonight. In 4 minutes actually. I should probably get out of jeans and wooly slippers. Usually one blog entry breeds another, and I'll get back into the swing of things.