1. Leave hair coloring up to the professionals. 2. If you violate rule #1, buy information pills leave the fixing up to the professionals. 3. The laws of the universe dictate that if you violate rule #1 and rule #2 in an effort to be frugal, the amount of money you eventually spend when you follow rule #2 will make you wince. 4. Speaking of wincing, if your hairdresses winces when you walk in the door, it’s time for a professional fix. 5. The word “spiky” should never refer in any way to my head. 6. The style which one leaves the salon with will in no way resemble the intended style one had in mind and in pictures. 7. People will compliment the new ‘do, and you will wonder whether it’s not that bad or if they’re just being nice (and wincing behind your back). 8. Hair grows out.
******* Knitting lessons learned the hard way: The proportions for an adult sweater – sleeve lenth, diameter, neck hole size, are not the same as those for a baby sweater. Fortunately for the intended recipient of “Baby Norgi,” I’ve got a handy big-headed baby hanging around. An attempt to model the sweater on my demo baby confirmed my fear – the neck is too small. Some form of neck-enlarging buttoning system will be necessary. So much for ticking another finished object off the list.
Proof that Claire is destined to knit – she’s already working on a sock! (please ignore my arms and legs which feature prominently in the picture. It’s hard to line up a self portrait while holding a squirmy squid)
I was eating a Hershey bar yesterday. I happened to notice the inside of the wrapper. There was some sort of eBay promo on it, implant but that’s not what caught my attention. Written inside the wrapper of my Hershey bar was: “Candy is a treat. Please enjoy responsibly.” We have devolved into a society that requires warnings on chocolate.
I’m reminded of a bit in a Douglas Adams book, I believe it was somewhere in the Hitchhiker’s Guide “Trilogy,” wherein a character (Wonko the Sane, perhaps?) decided that the rest of the world was insane based on finding usage instructions on a pack of toothpicks.
DH and I have been changing diapers for 2.5 years now, and doing double duty for 6 months. We are not squeemish. However, I can’t help but marvel at how such small people can produce such absolutely enormous amounts of poop. It’s mind boggling. Really. Aren’t you glad I shared?
Yesterday we took the kidletts to Idlewild Park. Both girls had fun – Anna rode lots of (mostly kiddy) rides and discovered the joy of carousels, website and Claire loves to people watch. The weather couldn’t have been more beautiful. Anna won a plastic beetle at the fish pond, which could be a crummy consolation prize to a “normal” kid, but she’s got a huge obsession with bugs at the moment, so it was a hit. She’s still got to work on the whole waiting in line concept, but that’s to be expected at this age. I continued the corruption of Claire’s developing digestive system by slipping her tiny bits of cotton candy, or “candy cotton balls” as Anna has dubbed it. Babies love the sugar.
This morning we had a missionary priest visit our church to make the standard appeal for support. When I heard his country of origin was Nigeria, I couldn’t help thinking of Nigerian e-mail scams. “I AM IN POSESSION OF MANY TREASURES IN HEAVEN. UNFORTUNATELY I CAN NOT ACCESS THEM AS I AM FLEEING PERSECUTION. PLEASE SEND ME YOUR BANK ACCOUNT NUMBER SO I CAN HAVE THESE BLESSINGS TRANSFERED TO YOUR SPIRITUAL ACCOUNT.”
Anna, food at the age of two and a half, herpes has had a verbal explosion lately. She’s talking up a storm, visit this site taking after her mother (whose father once had a shirt made for her emblazoned with “Mighty Mouth”). We’re also firmly entrenched in the “why?” phase of development. There is no rational way to answer a toddler who asks “Why is the table?” Anna is impressed with the adult beverage “beard.” She knows that Mama and Daddy drink beard, and that kids can’t have any beard. We’ve also had a discussion about males and facial hair, and the various stylings thereof. Which explains why I wasn’t really confused when she pointed to my Penn Pilsner at dinner and announced that Mama was drinking a moustache.
An hour ago I felt triumphant – I had finished the body of “Baby Norgi” and was ready to start the sleeves. The girls were both finally asleep, sick which meant I could get maybe an hour of uninterupted knitting time in. I reached for my 16″ size 0 Addi turbos, my only Addis (wherever I was the day I bought them had only Addis in that particular size) as most of my needles are Inox (being slightly more frugal). No needles. They were right there on the end table last night. Hm… Anna likes to play with my circular needles, so I checked the toy pile – nope. Not under the couch or any other furniture….Not in the knitting basket or bag… What’s that glint under the piano bench? Half of a chewed up size 0 circular needle and two fragments of cable. *sigh* I don’t know whether to blame the dog, who looked guilty and slunk off when she saw I had discovered the damage, or the cat who had a thing for my circular needles when I was working on the hemp sweater. It doesn’t matter, the damage is done and the baby is awake and now it’s time to make dinner. Fortunately the LYS is open until 6:00 and I’ve got a gift certificate burning a hole in my pocket. Maybe I’ll toss the baby in the car (not literally, but it makes for a great mental picture) and run over there while the pizza dough rises…..
Edited to add: The more I thought about it, the more it seemed that 16″ circulars wouldn’t be best for a sleeve. Lo and behold the instructions do specify dpns. *smacks forehead* Now I’ve got to put my sock in progress on a makeshift stitch holder. It’s still quicker than going to the yarn shop.