Tracitalynne

Tracitalynne

like a candygram, but with killing!

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Damn You, Chipmunks!

To continue on in my Grumpy Old Lady ranting, I would like to point out that these:

have been on the picnic table for 36 hours now (thanks Audrey, and your compulsive tendency to line things up), and yet no chipmunks or other vermin have eaten them. Odd, since the tomato plants have looked like this all summer:

because the stupid chipmunks come and eat a bite out of every single tomato and then leave them on my steps. Stupid chipmunks and their stupidness.

Also, my face is breaking out like a teenaged fry cook’s. I can’t be Old Lady Grumpy AND acne-prone. It’s just not right.

Don’t make me smack you, Nature.

I would just like to remind Nature that it is August! And it shall remain August! So please Act. Like. August. I have a sweatshirt on right now. Not okay. But even less okay is this:

No! Changing! Colors! Not until September, please. W Tee Eff.

now back to your regularly scheduled program

some of you may have noticed that This Blog was down for a bit over the weekend. Handsome, Talented, and Highly Intelligent Husband was in here with some Computer Raid spraying all the bugs.

So, quickly, while Tiny Girl is playing Noggin games, here is a roundup of the past few days:

What the girl said:

“Oh man! I hate the Balympics!”

walking down the stairs with a friend: “I will send you an email and you can come over my house.”

What the adults did:

watched Raising Arizona at a friend’s house, which is cool enough. BUT! We watched it outside, on a big ProjecterTron, with popcorn and Izze sodas and all manner of Lovely People to crack up when the guy says, “Not unless round is funny.”

It’s an anticlimax, Auntie Em!

We don’t get many tornadoes around here, being all hilly, woodsy, and not having enough concentrations of trailer parks to anger the wind. Here is the collective reaction upon seeing this:

Me, looking at the sky: Erm…

Pete: Huh. (grabs camera)

(A few other partygoers gather around, staring at the slowly forming funnel cloud.)

Group: Um…hm.

Thankfully it started to unravel, and we didn’t all twirl around in the air looking mildly concerned and bewildered.

Thank Goodness for Noggin

Home with a feverish kid today. So much for productivity.

Though, to be fair, two bottles of wine on a Monday night is also typically a productivity-killer. But as Katy says, Mondays Are The New Thursdays!

In other news:

See my gallery at Zazzle!

Food Diary.

Darling Husband sent an article suggesting we start a food diary, to find out and perhaps combat the fact that we have some extra poundage.

Today is Thursday, an at-home day for me and Audrey. It’s 11:20a.m. and so far I have ingested:

1.5 homemade melty frosted brownies

1 cup of tea with milk and sugar

1 pita sandwich with The Good Hummus, cucumbers and turkey

1 glass of Lady Grey iced tea with Sinus Clear added, because Sinus Clear is an herbal remedy and tastes like bitter, smoking ass.

At the tone, the time will be Ten Minutes to Ten Frikin’ O’Clock.

Look, kid. I just told you the story about the fairies who come and put sleep dust in little girl’s eyes, and go, “hush, hush”. I told it in my nice and relaxing and patient and sweet voice. I even told you the made up story that was actually the “plot” to the Noggin game we played earlier today. You got to have a snack, your room is the right temperature, bed is comfortable (it’s a Pillow Top, in fact. We don’t even have a pillow top on our own bed).

Here’s the deal. Daddy’s been away for 3 days. Before that, we had a houseful of people for A MONTH. I know this is none of your business and not your job or anything, but Mama Needs Some Lovin’, and You Are Not Helping.

EDITED TO ADD: No sleep until midnight. That’s right, Mid Fucking Night. No lovin’ for mama. Lots of small feet shoved into her belly at odd hours, and a few wake ups that required soothing, but no lovin’. Mama is doing her best not to be in a foul mood today.

I have plans. Big plans!

I am Patient Zero. There is a virus (”terrorist”) that is using me as a host to spread its mucus-y message to all that come in contact with me, even via g-chat, somehow. The result being nobody will talk to me, and the virus keeps itself alive in my sinuses, infecting and reinfecting me ad nauseum. (pun disturbingly apt)

Now that we are a 3 part family again, rather than an overcrowded, overentertained, locust-like 5 part family, I have a minute to share some fiber plans. Most of this yarn is from a very talented but deeply disturbed yarn hoarder, who decided to destash, and I was one of the lucky recipients. The rest is works in progress and some other stuff I am dying to get to.

First, a WIP that has been hibernating:

What? Socks, two at the same time??? Madness I tell you, madness.

This is my second BSJ, with a matching bonnet in some mmm-tasty Hello Yarn.

This is a basket of special yarn, waiting for Jared to get off his ass and sell me the Big Blue pattern so I can make a Pete sweater.

Oh hai. I am going to be a sweet smushy sweater, all raglan set in sleeves and cute. Yarn from Beaverslide Dry Goods.

This will be a clapotis when it grows up.

Umm, not sure, some kind of cuff or something. In all honesty, I just couldn’t pass up the angora-ness of it.

Our destiny is to be a purple stripey sweater for the tiny Muffin.

Audrey, modeling her father’s future cleverly cabled hat in blue Donegal Tweed

Charcoal grey Cascade 220 misspun into something a bit lighter, I believe. I also believe it wants to be a Pete sweater. I hope I have enough.

Cute tweedy goodness. Haven’t checked the yardage, but I am hoping for a February Lady Sweater for Mum for Xmas.