I figured out the Turkish cast on (knitted). I am actually proud of myself. I started my doll…and am about to start the increases/shaping after her feet (more about her later on…), but the thing I am most excited about is now I have no fear of toe up socks…which is going to mean a lot of trouble for the bf once I start procuring yarn for socks for him. I already have more than enough knowledge about fibers to find the wicking fibers and I know certain fibers fight odor as well (athlete)…now I not only have the confidence to knit socks, but I have someone who will not only wear them, but who will actually enjoy them and appreciate them. That means a lot to me.
costume did get here. The shoes are killer. A touch small, but that’s ok. I had a choice between a size I knew was a hair small and a size I knew was way too big…I took the too small shoe because I know I can deal w it. E is thrilled because I said she could have them after Halloween—she was most displeased when we were in Alice and I was buying heels and she could have none. They don’t make spikes or stilettos for little girls—for a reason. Although I hate to say, the kid can wear about a size 5 in women’s shoes, so if I pushed it I could get her something…but the rule is she has to be able to walk in them—confidently. She needs to work those platform sandals of hers more. Although, I must say, I am impressed that she is trying as hard as she is to develop a confident walk/stride in them. Burlington
We had a chat about being able to walk in heels and was amazed to see her actually get it and put it in to practice. If you are going to wear high heels, or heels of any sort, you have to be able to pull them off. You have to be able to walk with confidence and surety and grace. She is trying.
I haven’t worn really high heels in awhile. In years, for the most part. I used to be able to run, full tilt, in 6 inch stilettos. I’ve run over concrete, gravel, mud, all out, pounding the pavement, in 6 inch stilettos. That was how I got the most exposure to wearing them. Not to mention catwalk training too. J But still. I always worry when I wear them now, so much did I let the exs erode my confidence. I wore my favorite platform sandals the other night to the store. I learned there too—do not move sideways or you will stumble, but overall not a bad deal. A lady stopped me to compliment me on my shoes—which are wooden with carved out hearts in the center of the platform—and which she said obviously did not come from around here (nope, PA)—and also to compliment me on the way I walked in them. I think that made a big impression on E, the fact the lady took the time to compliment me on the graceful way I walk in them, especially after making comments about how terrible some people looked trying to walk in heels, much less platforms (the lady didn’t say anything we hadn’t already said—it’s one of our games, making comments about how people walk in shoes, etc). I am just happy I have not lost all my touch.
I am quite pleased w the rest of the
costume as well. It’s a nice cotton, very well made. Needs to be washed of course, but otherwise, I am thrilled. I think I should have spent the extra $3 and gotten the tear drop slip, but the one I did get will be fine regardless. And E helped me pick out ruffled tap pants to go under it when we were at target the other day. This kid is going to be a Victoria Secret’s model one day. Mark my words. At least I am drilling the right attitude into her. You wear this stuff for you, not for anyone else. The shoes, the lingerie, clothes in general. You have to like it, or don’t wear. And yes, we watched the VS fashion show together when it was on. She spent a lot of time ogling shoes. Although come to think of it, at that time I did make a comment about wanting a man who looks at me the way Seal looks at Heidi—and now I have one. True bliss does not begin to cover things there. Happily ever after. All those clichés. It’s as mind boggling as it is scary, but at least we both agree, there is no reason to doubt the things between us. We can be afraid; at least we talk through everything. Alice
N is very very pleased with his pogo stick. He indeed knew what a pogo stick is, although T and I still have no clue how. And he did know how to use it, basically. It took a bit of coaching, but now both kids are happy to pogo for a few seconds here and there. They are very nice to and with one another too. They take turns, one holds the pole so the other can get on and jump. Then the jumper holds the pole so the holder can jump. It’s so sweet.
He is also overjoyed w his zathura game. It’s the second time I’ve bought this game. We still have bits and pieces from the original. I tossed most of them when we moved here because too much of the game was gone. N actually slept with the game, in its box, last night. It needed its own pillow. I was just really happy he didn’t want to sleep with the pogo stick too.
Since he got an R2D2 cake from T’s friends (they are so very cool) and today he is getting a Hulk cake w the cousins’ party, I made fudge brownies for him, because every time he comes here he wants brownies and chocolate cupcakes. I was only willing to bake for so long yesterday, so no cupcakes. The brownies turned out excellent though. E and I sang to the boy and we had a ton of sparkler candles—for everyone. We had candles in each individual piece of brownie. And E got to have hers lit several times, just to watch them burn out.
E is not feeling well this weekend, but N’s lethargy from the past couple weeks is totally gone.
I have been having some very interesting conversations w my friend Kerry lately. We have thrown some ideas back and forth that are generating stories on both parts.
And I swear, Hybrid J has me addicted to Eric Maisel. I am still working through the original two books of his I bought, but felt the need to order two more as well. One arrived yesterday; the other will be here any day now.
I figured, on top of everything else this month, that I might as well order the last of the writing books I have on my list now so I can make the official declaration of I shall not buy any more writing books—even though I said that about knitting books and if amazon marketplace people actually had the books they list for sale I’d have a Barbara Wallker treasury this week. But no, that seems to be too much for many people. It’s like the fifth or sixth time in the past couple months I have ordered a book only to be told the person selling it no longer has that book in stock and cannot sell it. I can understand making a mistake, or not knowing where you put it, but my issue comes when people list the same book on four or five different selling sites, and then forgets to remove it from all the sites once it sells from one. That is the problem I keep running into lately.
Now that I have the full run of other events out of my writing bones, I can re-focus on Hestia’s Hearth and K’s Journey and the new pricklings of the NaNoWriMo project that is beginning to percolate through my brain. And butt eating toilet paper cover dolls too (I told you—Kerry and I have a wide variety of discussions … ) I need to pull my notes and see where I stand w certain things. I know I am behind in my studies, but not overly so. Sometimes I require more time to percolate than others. E is writing again too. When I cleaned out her room this last time, I found the two (actually three—there was one she only had put the book together and written a title on it, nothing more) unfinished works and she has taken them up again, once at a time. She is reading all too well lately. She will now stand over my shoulder and read while I IM my bf…which is not always something I want her reading…although I do keep it tame in her presence.
Oh, and I finally slipped the yoke of the mac where email was concerned, which means no more mac. Which also means I slipped out from under AT&T—one of these days I hope they learn exactly how badly they are screwing themselves over with off-shore customer service. It’s not just AT&T that needs to learn that either. Anyway…I dumped AT&T and went through gmail exclusively—and guess what—gmail has no issues whatsoever at all with my outlook program. Although I am going through imap just because I have the laptop and the netbook and the desktop and I want to make sure I don’t inadvertently lose anything anywhere along the line…but if I have issues I can always go back to the regular pop server.
The one thing about the outlook version I have currently, which I am planning to upgrade here soon, is imap is not included in the space where I can instill rules on every email that comes in. The main inbox accepts rules, but when I go to set rules up under the gmail account, outlook doesn’t show that as an option. I know there is a way to do it, other than upgrading, but I am not interested at the moment in finding out. It does make me look at every single email and digest and newsletter that comes in…and since I have to move each email one at a time, I get a real good look at what comes in to me. Which is another reason I haven’t started to complain about needing to get the upgrade done/etc. It is making me take the time to examine what comes in to me and to see if that is really something I need or want coming in. I have removed myself from many groups recently due to my inactivity, even though I was still interested in the group and did drop by from time to time. I am about to do it again. There are quite a few groups though I am unwilling to give up, even though my level of participation is mostly me reading more than me participating.
We’re going to be looking at houses today. We have price limits if we head in one direction (just the kids and me) versus needing to see where and what our limit is if we all combine (as in bf, kids and me) – and we get to look at motorcycles too. Bf is finally selling his mechanic’s special and seeking out a much better, more mechanically sound bike. And he keeps telling me he’s going to get me to take the bike licensing course too—although I think I should get over my fear of driving/traffic before I try that. Although I love bikes. I practically grew up on one, til I had my accident (bike in the barn, spider, hot muffler, straight to the drs we go, then Ma made Dad get rid of the bike)—but my heart has always been on a motorcycle. My dad is still shocked I can’t drive one myself yet, but I was never w anyone before who was willing to teach me. Not only will R take the course along w me (he’s already done it), but he’ll help buy a bike too, as in picking one out, but still.
Sometimes patience is a good thing, in so many ways.
I am off now. Too much to do.