But It Looks Better on Me

I knit a cowl/scarf to give as a Christmas gift.



The colors look better on me. I’m keeping it.

Oh, PLEASE! Like you’ve never done that yourself!

Five Things Friday

1. The Evil One, aka Turd, peed in my laundry basket, knocked over an entire can of Diet Pepsi, and destroyed the wicker laundry hamper. Yet, he still lives. I can actually hear the brownie points racking up for me in Heaven.

2. The writing suggestions you all have made are excellent. It was exactly the kind of feedback I was looking for. It is difficult for a writer to know if what they have in their little pea brain has translated to the page. Now that I’ve read the comments, it is all blatantly obvious. Thank you. There will be more coming. (Did anyone else, who knows my brother, get a little freaked out by how much he looks like Stephen King?)

3. Did you know that the Kindle can read to you? So you could sit there and perhaps knit or sew and not have to hold the thing or even turn the pages? Where has this device been all my life?! Why didn’t anyone tell me? Imagine how much more I can get done! Oh, Santa…may I please have one?

4. I’m still waiting to hear back from the nice people at “The Farm” commune in Summertown to see if I’m in or not. It seems like it is taking a long time. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent them a link to the blog?

5. Thanks to The Crazy Sheep Lady at Punkin’s Patch, I’ll be spending my weekend in the barn choreographing a holiday extravaganza similar to the one in this video. (Click on the picture for the link.)


Cutest thing EVER.

Do I Want an E-Reader?

Since giving up my high-tech career, I have fought tooth and nail to get away from the technology world. Sure, I use e-mail and, obviously, I use a digital camera and blog, but I tried to set that as my limit. I finally got around to adding a smart phone recently, telecommunications being the bane of my existence for so long I resisted.  Over the past several years, I’ve watched as several family members purchased e-readers and thought I’d never want one. I like books. Real books. I like the smell of books, the feel of books. Why would I ever want an e-reader?

I have since come to realize, I consume large amounts of books. I’ve always resold them after I’ve read them, but the post office recently increased its shipping rates, while Amazon didn’t. Now, to resell books there, you actually lose money. Without the outlet of selling them, I’m getting buried in books. As I type this I have three books on the sofa with me, six books and a magazine on the coffee table, what looks to be about 15 or so books in a basket on the floor, and about 50 lbs of magazines in an old apple crate. That doesn’t include what is on the bookshelves, or the sack of books my mother gave me that is sitting in the corner, or the box of quilting books left over from retreat for that matter.  This is just what I can reach from the sofa in the living room. I’m starting to see the value of an e-reader.

But which one? I don’t just read novels. I read everything, children’s books, how-to books, non-fiction, fiction, photography, quilting, cook books – No, I don’t like to cook but I do like to eat. That’s not the point. What I’m getting at is, I don’t think the el cheapo e-reader would be the right one for me, but do I really need to go to a full-blown color Kindle-Fire or Nook Tablet?

Thoughts? Opinions? Tell me your experiences.

Sniveling About Snow

I’m ready to pack my bags.



One of my ancestors settled in a town called Summertown, Tennessee, after the Civil War. That sounds nice doesn’t it, Summertown?  Conjures up images of porch swings and lemonade.

I Googled it.

Population 3,552. It has 4 gas station/convenience stores, 3 resturants, 1 bank, 1 variety store, 1 grocery store, 1 auto parts store, 1 used car lot, 1 golf course and absolutely no traffic lights.

My kind of place!  And then I read more…

it also has a cult intentional community called “The Farm,” which is based on principles of nonviolence and respect for the Earth, basically hippies.

Shearing sheep and spinning yarn wouldn't seem at all weird there! But wait, there’s even more…
Average temperature in the winter is ABOVE FREEZING.

I believe I have met my destiny.

He Has 1000 Aliases

Most of which are not appropriate for a family friendly blog. But most often I just call him Turd.

My brother is moving. Not just down the street, he’s moving all the way to Florida. While he juggles the job change, locates a place to live and packs his belongings I’m keeping Turd and his brother Loki. It is impossible to get anything done with Turd around. He’s not a normal cat. I think he’s brain damaged. It’s really the only explanation I can come up with.

The night of the hay delivery for instance. I was beat. All I wanted was to sit down and relax for a few minutes in my favorite chair. I set my glass of wine down on the second bookshelf nearby, making sure not to put it on the top just in case Turd showed up since he likes to knock things over. Then I sat down in my comfortable chair with my ‘dinner’, a plastic cup of fruit. As I settled in Loverboy Loki arrived to curl up in my lap, that being his only desire on earth, to be adored. As I lifted the plastic cup and spoon into the air to allow him room, Turd rounded the corner of the hallway and immediately noticed a little orange bug in the corner of the ceiling directly behind me. It happened so fast I can hardly describe it, but I’m sure there was terror in my eyes as I realized my mistake. He came flying through (almost literally) like a bat out of Hell across the room, up my legs, the fruit and juice landing squarely on my head and chest, the spoon disappearing to who knows where, while he leapt from the chair to the bookshelf in an attempt to reach the bug.  Unfortunately he had underestimated the distance from the chair to the top shelf so instead of landing on top, he grappled with his font legs while his back legs kicked over the wine glass among other things I had safely stowed away. It was red wine. Sticky red wine. And there were books. Lots of books. And bloodshed - all of the commotion caused Loki to freak out and insert his claws into the back of my hand, his signature move. I stood there stunned, fruit juice dripping from my hair, chunks of fruit stuck to my glasses, splatters of wine and blood across my shirt as my son shouted up the stairs, “Are you okay?” 

“No,” I replied. “Not exactly.”

A week later I am still cleaning up wine splatter but I finally found the spoon under my sewing table.

There will be no holiday decorations around here this year.

Ol’ Tom Turkey

He wore a can cozy as a hat, puffed up and strutted about like he owned the place.  It is every girl’s dream to have a turkey come to her slumber party. An event that will be talked about for years to come. Even decades thanks to the power of Facebook.

Not every kid at Oxford Elementary had a pet turkey that would follow you around like a dog. I had two. Tom’s wife, Maude, was not quite as flashy him but had a more demure personality all her own. I was the envy of the neighborhood after that night Dad brought the turkey in the house. I’m sure of it.

Tom lived a long life, his destiny unfulfilled. I am thankful to have known him. He helped raise me and shape my worldview. As I sit down to the table today, I’ll remember him fondly.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Stocking the Larder - Again

I bought this winter’s supply of hay back in July. Before the drought. Before I knew I was going to have to start feeding it three whole months earlier than I expected. It was starting to look like it would be famine around here come February. I was nervous. Very nervous.

I had another 100 bales of hay dropped off yesterday afternoon. My mind is feeling better. Can’t say as much for my lower back. The kid wasn’t here to help this time.

I’m not complaining though. I’m glad to have it. It’s getting scarce and very expensive. The auction prices are enough to make your eyes bulge. People are already talking about having it trucked in from other states.  Having it stacked in the center isle isn’t ideal, but nobody will go hungry and that’s all that matters.

Let the Thanksgiving feast begin!