Today’s title is the punchline from a tired old joke about the differences among girlfriends (“Ooohh! DON’T STOP! DON’T STOP!”), hookers (less enthusiastically:”Oh baby baby. Don’t stop.”) and wives (“Beige. I think I’ll paint the ceiling beige.”). I would be laughing hysterically if only I hadn’t spent four days looking at the bedroom ceiling with a bad case of back spasms. I started by thinking I needed to get into shape, and wheeled the bike out of the shed for the first time in two years. Let me say at this point it’s all Terri’s fault. She’s always going on about some 30 kilometer bike ride and riding her other bike to the store and is in really good shape and so away I went. Let’s just say that I’m on really good terms with my chiropractor, my icepack, and my dogs, who have spent the whole week sleeping on the bed with me. It’s a good thing we got a king-sized bed or I’d have spent the week in the guest room. How 80 pounds of dog can take up so much room is beyond me.
Note: If you do check out Terri’s blog (link above) regarding a recent stash enhancement, I would like to clarify that it is not me to whom she is referring. It is my doppleganger, the evil Judy; the stash enabler, who, contrary to what you may think, is not working (or is that lurking?) on commission at the wool shop. And I most certainly did not actually put any fibre into Terri’s basket. At least I don’t think I did…
Speaking of Prairie Lily, it has undergone a change of ownership, and Wednesday mornings now you may find Glenda, the former proprietress, sitting at the table in the back with the rest of us, smiling and not answering the phone or jumping up when the doorbell chimes. That is now Charlene’s baby. After reading on other blogs about wool store owners retiring and just closing the doors, I was very relieved to hear that Prairie Lily would indeed live on.
So, what to do when you are flat on your back? Knitting was out of the question, and daytime television sucks badly (even the space channel seems to be on a short rotation), so I nicely asked Mike to bring up my iPod dock, and I listened to more back episodes on CastOn. At least, the episodes played while I ingested large-ish doses of ibuprofin and let Brenda’s voice wash over me like warm butterscotch, remembering very little except thinking “I have to remember that.”
Last evening I finally figured out that with the right configuration of pillows and the proper application of ice, I can actually knit in bed. (Mike is oh so enthused about this development, believe you me!) I am trying the baby surprise jacket from the Knitter’s Almanac (Zimmermann) and so far, so good. edited to add: Did I say Knitters’ Almanac? I meant Knitting Workshop. So sorry.
I’m using wool that has been languishing in the stash and tried really hard to be a scarf last week, but it seems to have accepted its new assignment with dignity and a modicum of enthusiasm. I refused to let any bad karma take over the wool (this happens regularly with ill-advised first attempts in my universe) and jumped right in. I also wanted to get the Zimmermann monkey off my back, so I am shearing two sheep with one pair of clippers, as it were. Pictures later this weekend; it looks kind of goofy right now. I think that means I’m following the pattern correctly.
Life continues apace here. Andy is back in school (Hotel and Restaurant Administration), and Geoff and Courtney continue to make wedding plans. I was so happy to hear they decided to go with live music (classical during the ceremony, jazz afterwards) instead of some insipid deejay. (apologies to any insipid deejays who may be reading) He’s been a performer for so many years that it only seems right to have live music.
Now I think I’ll go and look at paint chips for the bedroom ceiling.
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