I want to report the theft of a pair of anklewarmers.
The granddaughter of some friends of mine stole (yes, STOLE, as in "to steal") her father's ankle warmers.
Well, that was the first report. Upon the receipt of more information, it appears that the anklewarmers she stole were pink, which was NOT the color her father had chosen for himself. It's true, he also chose a pair of pink anklewarmers, which were intended for his wife.
But the theft still stands. This heartless girl stole her MOTHER'S anklewarmers. And now, she's not even remorseful -- she wants another pair in her school colors. I don't want to single out this thief by telling you her name, but the colors where she goes to college are red and yellow. Any guesses where that might be?
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Reminder to One's-self
Reminder to one's-self: When you take a potluck dish for a Christmas party that is hosted at a fire station, don't prepare your contribution to the dinner in a favorite bowl or platter that you have to take home. Put your food in a throw-away container that you can leave behind because the firemen, who have been the hosts, can soon finish the left-overs after you've gone home.
My ankle warmers were warmly received by the smart, intelligent, clever, forward-thinking, astute members of the group. The other thick-headed, idiot dolts, who claim they are so warm-blooded that they don't need anyhing as sissy as a pair of ankle warmers, well, it's your tough luck. Don't come to us for sympathy when it's 41 degrees below!
My ankle warmers were warmly received by the smart, intelligent, clever, forward-thinking, astute members of the group. The other thick-headed, idiot dolts, who claim they are so warm-blooded that they don't need anyhing as sissy as a pair of ankle warmers, well, it's your tough luck. Don't come to us for sympathy when it's 41 degrees below!
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Like Sweaters for Your Ankles
How can I describe ankle warmers? They're not like the leg warmers that ballet dancers wear, or those legging things that are wrapped around race horses' ankles.
I've got it -- ankle warmers are like sweaters for your ankles.
I've got it -- ankle warmers are like sweaters for your ankles.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
I'M NOT ALONE !
We made a quick run to Ottawa this afternoon, took the opportunity to stop at the Keim Bakery on South Main for a treat.
At most bakeries it's hard to find something tasty that isn't drenched in heavy, sugary frosting. I have a mean trick I like to play at bakeries -- I ask the clerk, as if I am asking for the most ordinary, everyday thing, if they have salt-rising bread. Most frequently, the answer is a puzzled expression.
Today the young clerk looked very thoughtful, and replied in the negative, but went on to say that someone had come in the previous week with the same question.
It all led to a conversation with two bakers, who said they had heard of salt-rising bread but had never made it. I remarked that salt-rising bread has a distinctive odor, and one of the bakers returned that he had worked with several sour-dough formulas, all of which had a noticable smell.
I promised to come back if they would make salt-rising bread, so now I'm going to have to keep an eye on the Keim Bakery -- I hope they have a website. I'd be delighted to make good on my promise.
At most bakeries it's hard to find something tasty that isn't drenched in heavy, sugary frosting. I have a mean trick I like to play at bakeries -- I ask the clerk, as if I am asking for the most ordinary, everyday thing, if they have salt-rising bread. Most frequently, the answer is a puzzled expression.
Today the young clerk looked very thoughtful, and replied in the negative, but went on to say that someone had come in the previous week with the same question.
It all led to a conversation with two bakers, who said they had heard of salt-rising bread but had never made it. I remarked that salt-rising bread has a distinctive odor, and one of the bakers returned that he had worked with several sour-dough formulas, all of which had a noticable smell.
I promised to come back if they would make salt-rising bread, so now I'm going to have to keep an eye on the Keim Bakery -- I hope they have a website. I'd be delighted to make good on my promise.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
More Yarn ?
Today I traded in a credit, almost a year old, for two balls of black yarn. I settled for black because I couldn't find the colors I really wanted. Got a project in mind, and it's not a pair of ankle warmers, and it will take a lot more than two balls of yarn.
It's a big project -- might take me all winter. My dear aunt, GZD, once gave me a set of instructions for knitting a sweater, and said, "This is the only sweater pattern you'll ever need." She herself made many sweaters, including two for me, from that pattern.
I have used the same instructions to make a button-down-the-front sweater for Aunt Mary, one for Aileen, and one for Ada Mae. The one for Ada Mae was the hardest because the yarn was so delicate and light it was hard to keep it in place to work with. I don't plan to ever use that kind of yarn again. But the sweater was beautiful.
So . . . I need to find the pattern instructions . . . and the rest of the colors for the result I have in mind.
I will be looking for a specialty yarn to incorporate into the project. I have seen the colors I want during previous visits to other yarn shops, but of course, now that I really want those colors, they are impossible to find.
Until I find the perfect yarn, and the instructions, it's back to ankle warmers.
It's a big project -- might take me all winter. My dear aunt, GZD, once gave me a set of instructions for knitting a sweater, and said, "This is the only sweater pattern you'll ever need." She herself made many sweaters, including two for me, from that pattern.
I have used the same instructions to make a button-down-the-front sweater for Aunt Mary, one for Aileen, and one for Ada Mae. The one for Ada Mae was the hardest because the yarn was so delicate and light it was hard to keep it in place to work with. I don't plan to ever use that kind of yarn again. But the sweater was beautiful.
So . . . I need to find the pattern instructions . . . and the rest of the colors for the result I have in mind.
I will be looking for a specialty yarn to incorporate into the project. I have seen the colors I want during previous visits to other yarn shops, but of course, now that I really want those colors, they are impossible to find.
Until I find the perfect yarn, and the instructions, it's back to ankle warmers.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
FAKE KNEE AND ALL . . .
I'm no longer the walker that once I was, so I declined the invitation to walk in the Maple Leaf Parade in Carthage, MO, today. Instead, I offered to take pictures.
And probably walked an equal distance just getting into position to take pictures of the group, a total of five walkers.
First thing was finding the group's position in the parade line-up. I parked a few blocks east of the courthouse square, and finally found them on the west side of the courthouse square. Shivering in their jackets, their red tee-shirts hidden from view. Told them I would see them somewhere along the parade route.
Not surprised that I wasn't able to park within two blocks of the route. Had to walk uphill, consoled myself that it would be down hill coming back to the car. I had calculated that I wanted to be on the east side of the street, with the sun at my back. Didn't like the back ground at that intersection, so I moved a block to the north. I had been told that the crowd would be very evenly dispersed along most of the route, found that to be true. Stopped across from two lovely, stately old homes.
I knew their number, and tried to keep track, but very few parade units had their number in a visible spot. An older gentleman booted me out of my first chosen spot. I moved a few feet away to stake out another place. Sat down on the curb, partly to give my leg a rest and partly to make it more difficult to ask me to move.
The third parade unit was a mounted troup, followed by a vehicle with a small trailer accompanied by two walkers equipped with shovels and scoops. Yep, the horses did what horses do. Amusing, however, that the pooper-scooper vehicle was none other than the candidate for re-election as sheriff, who is currently involved in a very smelly argument, with accusations being tossed about every week.
My group finally arrived -- number 78. Took a few shots from the curb, stumbled to my feet, tried to follow them, but they were moving too fast. So I trudged back to my car and wondered if I could manage to intercept them again near the finish.
Parked this time within one block of the marching route, within two blocks of the finish. This time I remained on my feet. The parade having made a ninety-degree turn, I was now on the south of the street, the sun still nicely behind my back. Got better pictures this time.
Walked with the group another block or so (uphill). At the finish line I declared I must have completed the walk with them, because here I was at the end. Had a few problems with the camera, but the experience was good, and I seriously considered buying myself a camera later in the day.
And probably walked an equal distance just getting into position to take pictures of the group, a total of five walkers.
First thing was finding the group's position in the parade line-up. I parked a few blocks east of the courthouse square, and finally found them on the west side of the courthouse square. Shivering in their jackets, their red tee-shirts hidden from view. Told them I would see them somewhere along the parade route.
Not surprised that I wasn't able to park within two blocks of the route. Had to walk uphill, consoled myself that it would be down hill coming back to the car. I had calculated that I wanted to be on the east side of the street, with the sun at my back. Didn't like the back ground at that intersection, so I moved a block to the north. I had been told that the crowd would be very evenly dispersed along most of the route, found that to be true. Stopped across from two lovely, stately old homes.
I knew their number, and tried to keep track, but very few parade units had their number in a visible spot. An older gentleman booted me out of my first chosen spot. I moved a few feet away to stake out another place. Sat down on the curb, partly to give my leg a rest and partly to make it more difficult to ask me to move.
The third parade unit was a mounted troup, followed by a vehicle with a small trailer accompanied by two walkers equipped with shovels and scoops. Yep, the horses did what horses do. Amusing, however, that the pooper-scooper vehicle was none other than the candidate for re-election as sheriff, who is currently involved in a very smelly argument, with accusations being tossed about every week.
My group finally arrived -- number 78. Took a few shots from the curb, stumbled to my feet, tried to follow them, but they were moving too fast. So I trudged back to my car and wondered if I could manage to intercept them again near the finish.
Parked this time within one block of the marching route, within two blocks of the finish. This time I remained on my feet. The parade having made a ninety-degree turn, I was now on the south of the street, the sun still nicely behind my back. Got better pictures this time.
Walked with the group another block or so (uphill). At the finish line I declared I must have completed the walk with them, because here I was at the end. Had a few problems with the camera, but the experience was good, and I seriously considered buying myself a camera later in the day.
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