Baiting deer

We can't grow flowers in our yard. If it can be called a yard. It's a 46-acre pasture, mostly rocks and pine trees, mostly mountainside. Weeds grow well, along with ticks. Tiny wildflowers grow, and so do dandelions. The deer don't eat any of those things.

As far as I know.

But they do eat any and all flowers that I've planted. When Tom and I got married, we dug up and replanted my daisies and purple coneflowers and lilies that I'd planted at my apartment. Every year they sprout and even may grow a few inches before they're mowed down by the deer. Last year I planted a few cosmos and bachelors buttons which the deer promptly pulled completely out of the ground a few hours later.

So this year I'm testing the flowers on the deer before planting any.

First, pansies. I set a 6-pack of pansies on the ground in front of the porch then tossed out corn. Lily came to investigate and enjoy the sun.





Finally the deer showed up.



Nope, not interested.

Last night I set out a pack of marigolds. They weren't interested in that one, either.

But I bet that if I plant them, they'll eat 'em.

I want you to know

that I'm not advocating online gambling. It's attached to the code for the counter, and if it's deleted, the entire counter will be deleted. One day (ha) I'll find another one that doesn't include ads for things I don't condone.

Not that I have anything against online gambling. I just am not advocating it. How's that for equivocation?

Update: Thanks to Trillian's advice, I have changed traffic counters and no longer am advertising gambling.

I got The Stupids

I sincerely believe that school systems should give out paid mental health days. I don't know exactly what has caused it, but I've got a bad case of The Stupids and am plumb out of sick leave this year. I could use a couple of mental health days about now.

I don't know if it's the long stretch between spring break (week after Easter, but we Must. Not. call it Easter Break) and Memorial Day with no days off, or if it's traveling so much on the weekends, or if it's this pattern I'm test-knitting for Claudia, but I'm Stupid. Nothing goes right. I can't think any longer. The simplest tasks become monumental disasters. I don't want to work.

Not that that's news. But after feeling so great since spring break, right now I just want to hide. The feeling started yesterday and is getting stronger. I don't want to do the things my boss asks me to do. I don't have any energy or motivation. I want to go outside and feel the sun on my face and do nothing.


I take that back. I do want to plant the flowers and herbs I bought last week. We have a great horticulture program here at school and they grew some particularly nice flowers and herbs this spring. I took home three boxes, bought several more at WalFart, and I want to dig in the dirt and see the color of the flowers and smell the herbs. I just don't want to do it today.






But the worst part of The Stupids is affecting my knitting. Claudia asked me to test-knit a pattern for her using her glorious Fingering 55, 55% silk 45% merino, in an earthy colorway (if I could remember what it was, I'd tell you, but The Stupids has interfered with my memory, which is bad on a good day). It's a simple pattern, garter stitch, yo, slip first stitch purl last stitch pattern. Wouldn't you think I could handle that? After all, I can knit socks. If I can knit socks, I can knit this with my eyes closed.


Well, knitting it in the dark certainly didn't help any, but I kept forgetting to purl the last stitch, and that's crucial to the look--and the blocking--of the piece, so I've un-knit more than I've actually knitted. Many, many times. I'm ready to throw the whole thing into the river. Any river. The creek at home will do. But that gorgeous yarn, and my fear of Claudia's reaction, plus the promise of much more yarn when I turn this finished piece in, keeps it in my hands or knitting bag where I'll give it yet one more try. And another. And another and another and another.

Because I sure don't expect the rest of this thing to go any better.

(This doesn't show the luminous beauty of this yarn at all. Maybe someday I'll get a photo in the sun--if I ever get out in the sun again, that is.)

Hie yourself to Cass's blog!

She's having a contest. Great prizes. Go check her out.

That's my boy! The B2 Chronicles

"A heard weird noises under her bed a few nights ago and B2 grabbed her hand and marched in to her room and sprayed all the "monsters" with his weird-nose-sounds and then they both were fine.

:o)"

nb: B2 is able to hum through his nose. It's a really odd sound, but we've gotten used to it. Now he's putting it to good use.

I'm so proud of him.

What is this "house concert" thing?

I'm old. I might as well announce that up front. I am completely un-hip, un-cool, un-in-the-know. About anything.

So when Last Train Home's website (and yes, I do keep that link on my desktop so I can easily copy and paste it, thanks for asking) showed a "house concert" on their schedule, Tom and I were interested but puzzled. You see, we've been going to all of Last Train Home's shows that are within a reasonable driving distance, reasonable being within 6 hours on a weekend night. This "house concert" was in the DC area, with the note that anyone interested could email for information. DC is "within a reasonable driving distance", it was on a Friday night, so if we could be there, we'd be there.

Tom emailed Eric (Brace, lead singer and all-around-good-guy-extraoidinaire) (spellcheck tells me that last word is incorrect, but it doesn't tell me how to correct it so it stays) and Eric sent the info, giving the address and show times. It was at an actual house, people. In Chevy Chase, Maryland. Chevy Chase, a suburb of DC, is a very upscale area. Upscale is not my scale at all.

In case I haven't mentioned it before, I'm not big on social occasions. I'd just as soon go to a show where I know no one but Tom or my sister(s), so I don't have to talk to anyone else. I don't do small talk graciously. It's a real source of anxiety. Yes, I have meds for that, but Xanax and alcohol aren't supposed to be mixed, and I enjoy music with a glass of wine (red, to be exact, or inexact, as the case may be).

Tom really wanted to go to this show. I really wanted to stay home. We haven't been home for a weekend in ages and I needed some down time. I work around people all day; by the weekend, I'm worn out from having to be upbeat and polite and chatting with people.

And this "house concert" thing would definitely require being around people I don't know in a social strata that I can only gaze at from the outside and I'd have to make small talk with these people. We have nothing in common except a mutual interest in Last Train Home. It scared me to death.

I couldn't even take my knitting in with me; the act of knitting soothes my soul and allows me to feel human. I was knitting my Red Wagon socks and had gotten to the part where I had to follow a chart to make the hearts on them. I can't read charts and chit-chat at the same time, so I had to go in without my knitting, my security blanket.

This was a huge house, people. Huger than I can imagine having to clean, ever. And it was in a neighborhood, a beautiful one, of other huge houses, all perfectly landscaped, tulips and dogwoods and azaleas blooming. I so wanted to take photos, but I figured someone would call the police. It's that kind of neighborhood. Someone taking photos would have to be considered a potential thief.

By this time, people were starting to gather and go inside. We'd done a drive-by earlier and saw no one, so we figured we had plenty of time to find a quick dinner. It took a while to find a "business" area, but we found a nice little restaurant (with a very noisy bar; it was, after all, a Friday evening and something called the Nationals was playing some game on tv) and had a quick bite to eat. (I had potato skins, the first good ones I've had in years. Lots of potato, cheese, and bacon. Yes, I'm committed to losing weight. I've lost 7 pounds so far. Weekends I'm allowed to eat what I want. But that's another post.)

The house is beautifully decorated, but there are touches that women everywhere can appreciate: small toys lying under coffee tables, the gorgeous bay window in the kitchen filled with children's toys and a small table, other children's items mixed in with wedding photos and a plaster handprint of a small child. Actual people live there.

And then there's this:

That's Wilbur. He's a very large, friendly Bouvier. He's so big that even I was a little uneasy about walking right up to him and burying my head in that fluffy ruff of his. But he initiated the get-to-know-you session; he came right up to me and slobbered all over me (he must have just drank a gallon of water) and gave Tom that male-dog-to-male-human greeting, snout in the crotch. Ahh, male bonding!

That's a rather large coffee table next to him (with a little doll underneath the far right side), just for proportion.

The media room, which opened to the "deck", which was most of the back yard with lots of landscaping in the undecked areas, was set up for the show. Folding chairs (at least 40 of them) and plush sofas filled the room. The front of the room was set up for the band; they were really scrunched together, but I've seen them on smaller stages.

The two children, T and M, both beautiful and omnipresent like Wilbur, weaved through the crowd, playing with toys and talking to people (M was very tired and a little crabby, but for a 3-year-old, she managed very well), were invited to play with the band on one of their numbers. The kids had been in the formal living room next to the media room watching the band, especially Steve Wedemeyer who really gets into his guitar. M strummed that tiny guitar ferociously, occasionally raising her leg and doing some patented SW moves. It was adorable, and the kids didn't want to leave the "stage" afterward. Eric apologized to their parents for starting their kids on the road to rock and roll, and off they went.


Turned out that it wasn't as uncomfortable socially as I thought it would be. Most of the people there either work for the government or are attorneys or have other high-powered jobs, but they were pleasant to two strangers who came just for the show. Next time we do a house party, we'll take a nice bottle of wine, maybe wrapped in a hand-knitted-by-me bag, and some good beer. There was lots of food there and lots to drink.

Absolutely lovely! We might try this "house concert" thing again.

Un-Raveled

Damn. Blocked from Ravelry again. On, off, on, off. What's next, Blogger?

Happy May 1!

And, here is my annual refrain:

Why isn't it warm?????

Random photos

My cousin's dog, Blue:



This computer is so slow uploading these things that I'm going to try one more; if it doesn't move any faster, I'm gonna quit.

Flowers at school:



Okay, it's taken 8 minutes (so far) to upload those two photos, so enough of that for today.

Tom had hernia surgery yesterday, outpatient. We both thought it would be laparascopic, but I guess that's why one is supposed to actually read the disclosure things one has to sign before surgery. Surprise! Anyway, lack of sleep is causing me to be uncharacteristically impatient, so time to quit.

You're welcome for the hearty laugh that last sentence caused.

Ticketmaster

I hate Ticketmaster. Their "system" to discourage scalpers from getting all the good seats has pretty much turned into a huge moneymaking venture for TM itself. Once you get into their ticket-buying page, you have to type in a two-word "security check", which slightly slows down those of us who just want two decent tickets, but it doesn't appear to stop the scalpers.

My sister, Betty, said that once you actually buy tickets, you get an option to immediately sell them on Ticketmaster's Thievery TicketExchange site. As you might imagine, these tickets aren't resold at face value; they're jacked up, especially any in the front sections of the arena. Tickets in those sections start at $260 (face value is $120 plus TicketMaster's "convenience charge" of $18+ for each ticket) and go up to $449. (They're just as bad, or worse, on ebay.)

This is how TM "protects" the ticket-buying masses. This way you can be sure that you're buying a genuine ticket instead of a counterfeit one, since they hold the tickets and send them to the poor sap tired, crazed fan person who buys them.

The American Express Gold Card presale for Neil Diamond went on sale last Friday. Betty is a die-hard ND fan; once before she, Joan, and I had tickets, but not great ones, (they turned out to be pretty great for Joan and me, though), so the day or two before the concert, Betty went on ebay and bought a front-row ticket. Joan and I were to the side of the stage but on a higher level, and we had a good view of the band, the stage, and Betty. We so enjoyed watching her enjoy the show!

So, back to my story before my lunch gets cold: Tom has a Gold Card and graciously donated it for the cause. I informed my boss that I was going to take about half an hour of personal leave (she laughed) to try to buy tickets. I spent 45 minutes trying to find something decent, but nothing came up that I was willing to buy. I finally gave up out of frustration and hunger. The only sections that were selling that I ever saw were across the stadium.

However. TicketExchange was already showing tickets in the front sections, for the prices listed above. How did they do that? I'm a fast, accurate typist; I mistyped the security words twice in 45 minutes. Many times I got a page that says, sorry, no tickets available. So, here I am with a very fast internet connection and a decent computer, and I couldn't get a ticket anywhere near the stage.

We both tried throughout the last week, but only those far-away sections were available.

Have you seen the commercials for American Express, bragging how they got tickets to a sold-out concert? Lies. Tom called AmEx and asked about their tickets for the ND show. They gave him a number to call, and guess what? That person told him that TM handles that; they have nothing to say about where the tickets are. He told her that the seats were crap and they should be ashamed to put their name on the presale. She wasn't any help.

So this morning was the start of the ND fanclub presale. Betty, after nearly having a stroke when nothing decent showed up in the first ten minutes, finally got two tickets in the back of section 2, which is center in front of the stage.

You know, we'd boycott TM if there was any other way to get tickets to the shows we want to see. But they're the only game in town at most large venues, so we're stuck.

So we buy tickets and gripe about TicketThievery and go to the concerts anyway.

On the road again

I thought we'd finally have a weekend at home. I don't even remember the last time we were home for a weekend. I'd like to be home for a weekend.

We're going somewhere in Maryland to a house party, whatever that is. If you know or have a slight clue, please let me know. I don't know what to expect.

Last Train Home is playing at the party. Their tour list on their website said to email if anyone was interested in going, so we did. And so we're going.

Don't get me wrong, I love Last Train Home and love their shows.

I just want a weekend at home!

Opportunities lost

Sorry, I just haven't had time or the motivation to write this week. Work has been busy, although yesterday we went to a workshop in Winchester at the Handley Library. I highly recommend visiting it if you're in the area; it's an architectural delight.

And of course I didn't have my camera with me (or my jacket, but I didn't think I'd need that, either). I always have my camera with me. It's one of those Don't Leave Home Without It things for me, but the new one is too big for my purse, and I've stopped carrying the old one because it made my purse so heavy, and I just didn't think I'd need one for a workshop.

Wrong. Wrongwrongwrongwrongwrong.


This isn't a great photo of the place. The second I saw it, I was in love. Inside it's even better. The rotunda is the entrance; it's three stories high and has stained glass inside. I can't begin to do it justice by describing it. I have to go back and photograph it.

After the workshop, Mary and I ate lunch at the pedestrian mall a couple of blocks away. We ate at a small bakery/cafe and sat outside. Again, gorgeous architecture all around, trees just beginning to leaf, lots of restaurants with outside seating, people walking by with their dogs. So many photo opportunites, and me with no camera.

We got back to school just in time for me to go to Claudia's to work, so I didn't go back upstairs to get my bag. (It's a long long loooonnnnnnggggg walk from the parking lot to my office.) It wasn't till I was on my way to pick up Tom that I realized that my camera was in that stinking bag in my stinking office (well, the office doesn't stink; I have my little Ionic Breeze on my desk and I forgot to turn it off before we left for the workshop, and there are lilacs on my desk.) and didn't have the stinking camera all evening.

Which sort of didn't matter, as it turned out. Claudia didn't need me to work, but she wants me to knit some test garments for her new book of patterns. I cleaned my glasses, which had been filthy for several days, and they. snapped. at. the. nosepiece. In half.

Now, I'm extremely nearsighted, and I really can't read just using my left eye anyway (macular degeneration, 20% blind in that eye, the rest blurry, blah blah blah), so I was fortunate (?) that it was the left lens and earpiece that broke off. I tried to superglue it together, but that didn't work. It glues my fingers together, so I thought it was worth a shot.

I could wear the right half of the glasses, since the nosepiece was still intact for that much of the glasses. I drove to pick up Tom, very carefully, and we went to Costco to see if they could fix them. I was sure they couldn't as they don't keep actual stuff there; everything has to be sent off for a week to ten days.

I couldn't possibly go without them for that long, and I'm not sure where my old glasses are.

Anyway, long story shorter, they were able to take the piece off another pair of old glasses they had lying around. I can see again. And I've made an appointment with my regular eye doctor (retinologists don't "do" glasses prescriptions) for another eye exam and prescriptions for both glasses and contacts. It's not till May 9, so I hope my glasses will hold up till then. I hope they'll stay clean till then.

And this time I'll buy a back-up pair of cheap glasses.

Photos

This is the best photo I've taken so far with my new camera:


Using the "super macro" button on the camera, I caught this (very sluggish, or otherwise I wouldn't have touched the doorknob) wasp in our garage.

Here's a view of the redbud and some white-flowering tree in our back yard; note our West Virginia storage shed:



Today has been chilly and wet in Spruce Pine, NC. I see that it's been in the upper 70s at home today. We didn't go to Biltmore; at $49 a person it wasn't worth it in the rain, and it was too foggy on the mountain to want to drive to any gem mines.

This is one of our adult female deer; one or more of the others have been beating the tar out of her and some of the others. She has boo boos all over from bites and flying hooves. I caught her in a rather unladylike position, but it tickles me, so here she is (we don't know her name; she hasn't shared it with us):



And, last, my favorite yarn photo so far:

Sunny day!!!

Oh, it's gorgeous today! Of course, I'll be inside for another hour, but then I'm freeeeeeee!

We're heading out to a Last Train Home show in Tennessee, just over the border from VA/North Carolina, then to my cousin's hotel just off the Blue Ridge Parkway, Skyline Village Inn. Lynn and Mike are great hosts and it's very reasonably priced. Stop in and tell them I said hi!

Tomorrow, if the weather is nice (and there's 100% chance of rain!) we'll go to the Biltmore; if their azaleas are out it will be glorious. But, our alternate choice (in case of rain--HA!) is gem mining.

There are two emerald "mines" close to the hotel, but neither is an authentic working mine. The one I want to visit is the Sheffield Mine, because they have native stones, not those brought in from elsewhere and "salted" in their dirt, which the "mines" then sell by the bucket.

Or I might sleep all day while Lynn and Mike are in Charlotte on business. At this point, that sounds like a plan to me.

From my new camera:

Saturday night's show

I mentioned before that we saw Bill Kirchen at AC&T on Saturday night. It was a great show, fun, lively. See if you can guess how old he is: (Not you, Tom; you know how old he is!)

He is 60!!! Tom is 62, and he looks a lot younger.

He's a really personable man, friendly, upbeat. This is Joan with us; she's my younger sister (one of 3).

Knitting content:

By the way, I'm wearing the bamboo t-top (Oat Couture, Tropical Tee, love the pattern) that I knit last year and never blocked. The side seams twist, which I don't like, but not having the motivation to block it, I just ended up wearing it and pulling it into place occasionally. It really doesn't pull that much over my boobs; it's a little loose, and by the end of the evening it was really droopy (not my boobs. I'm wearing my Soma bra.). I washed the tee in the washing machine last night (no hand-washing for me) and it came out looking a lot better. I laid it to dry and I'll see how it did tonight. I hope that takes care of the twisting seams, but I'm not counting on it.

I'm going to knit another Tropical Tee in coral bamboo, a size smaller, a couple of inches shorter, and with longer sleeves. Maybe a tiny bit of shaping at the (I wish I had a) waist. This one is knit with Southwest Trading Company's bamboo; the second will be Classic Elite Bam Boo. I'm curious to see how the two compare.

FO: I finished Joan's birthday socks this week, too late to give them to her this past weekend, but they're finally done. I started them in August of last year for her early September birthday. Now they're finished and I've cast on for a pair of (black)hearted socks in Claudia's Red Wagon colorway, all bright and springy.

Joan's socks, fini:

On to springtime with Red Wagon!

Happy dance

I got my new camera last night! As usual, I'm too impatient to wait; in this case, to wait for Mr. Bush to finish signing my incentive check and put it in the mail. So last night I casually suggested that we stop by Circuit City to check out the cameras.

I'd decided on a Canon S5 IS because it appeared to have almost everything I wanted in a point-and-shoot camera: good macro setting (even super macro), decent wide-angle and zoom, can be used like an SLR if desired, image stabilization (for those shaky days) and face detection technology, and other things I can't remember here. Oh yes, it had to be under $450, and this one was $329. I hadn't handled one, so that had to be a big consideration, the way it would feel in my hands.

I'd have loved to have a DSLR; some of them are reasonably priced, but with a telephoto lens, which I'd have to have, I just couldn't hold it steady. Since I take lots of photos of far-away stuff, that just wouldn't work. So I opted for a nearly-DSLR.

I've only taken a few photos with it; it was getting dark when we got home last night, and I really have no idea how to use it for even the simplest photos. I was trying to photograph the yarn on my desk but had a difficult time getting a clear picture, so who knows what I did to the settings when I played with it.

I took some pictures of it with my old camera, which will soon be on its way to J. If/when I learn to use the new one!!!

I didn't realize till I got it home that it has a USB card reader with it, so I don't have to hook up the camera to the computer and waste batteries uploading photos:

This is what I have to wade through in order to learn how to use this camera. Auuuggghhh!

What it came down to, though, when choosing a new camera, was the batteries it uses. I really wanted a Sony H7; it has really good reviews, has so many manual settings and longer telephoto plus 15x zoom; this one has 12x zoom, which is close enough. But the Sony H7 uses a proprietary (read: expensive) lithium ion battery, which no doubt will last a lot longer while shooting photos, but the expense is what stopped me. A spare rechargeable battery is $60. The Canon S5 IS uses 4 AA batteries, which I can find anywhere anytime. I know that in the long run I'll end up spending a lot more on AAs than if I bought the rechargeable, but AAs are just so much easier to deal with. And if I want to, I can use rechargeable AAs; somewhere I have some batteries and the charger.

So. I have my new camera. I've done my part to jump-start the economy. Now I just need to learn how to use the thing!

On the road again

I don't remember the last time we stayed home for the weekend. I'm not complaining, just wondering. Let me see if I can remember where we've gone.

Last weekend we went to Ashland Coffee and Tea on Friday night to hear Tom Russell. (I'm too lazy to link today.) He's a fairly good singer-songwriter, but not much of a showman. The next night a guy that Tom likes was going to be there, so we bought tickets for that show.

Saturday night we heard Bill Kirchen and Too Much Fun at the same place. My sister, Joan, and her husband, Scott, came with us (I begged them, just in case the show was as boring uninspiring as the Friday night show). This one was a lot of, well, fun. Bill is only 60 but looks considerably older, and for an old guy, he sure can rock. (Remember that this is coming from a 55-year-old.)

The weekend before we went to Saturday night and Sunday afternoon Last Train Home shows in Arlington.

And, this coming weekend, we're going to Johnson City, Tennessee, to hear Last Train Home again, then spend the weekend at my cousin's hotel, the Skyline Village Inn. Maybe go to Biltmore on Saturday afternoon (if I get out of bed) or, if the weather's bad, to one of the gem mines in the area.

I think that we'll actually be home the following weekend, unless some show pops up. But the first weekend of May we'll go to a benefit in Richmond (I don't remember what it's for) headlined by Bill Kirchen and Jerry Jeff Walker. We went all the way to Belize last year to see 3 Jerry Jeff shows, so Richmond isn't such a stretch.

Maybe by that time, it'll be warmer and we'll be able to spend some time outdoors on the weekends. I can only hope.

Big Trouble in Little Burg

It seems that the link a couple of posts below doesn't work, so I'll copy and paste the info from the paper, with names and places removed:

"Some members of the xxxxxxxxxx High School football team are accused of armed robbery and distributing prescription pain pills. Information came out Wednesday afternoon concerning star players who are allegedly involved with the drugs, as well as allegations that the coaches knew what was going on but turned a blind eye to any illegal activity.

Investigators from the xxxxxxxxxxxxx Police Department signed search warrants to access records at the high school. An affidavit filed with the clerk of court Wednesday alleges nine current memebrs of the school's football team, one former student, the team's head coach and two assistant coaches were involved in, or had knowledge of, the distribution of prescription pills in the school's locker room before games. Many of the pills are believed to have been Oxycontin.
Investigators say some of the football players may have also been involved in an armed robbery of rival high school students on Halloween 2007. One of the students allegedly involved is the football team's star player. Ten other xxxxxxxxx High School students' names are also listed in the affidavit.

Police executed a search warrnant at the high school Wednesday morning and got all the documents they needed. Although no arrests have been made in this case (note from me: two kids have been arrested for the robbery since then), investigators want to know how many players and coaches knew about this alleged prescription drug distribution, but who also failed to tell police.

The biggest name on the list junior xxxxx xxxxx, a star running back on the football team. Police talked to xxxx more than once during this investigation. According to the affidavit, on January 23, 2008, xxxx admitted to being part of an armed robbery which included other xxxxxxxx School students xxxx xxxx and xxxx xxxx. Xxxx said he only helped plan the robbery.

On March 28, xxxx was questioned again and investigators asked about his knowledge of xxxx dealing prescription pain pills before football games while in the locker room of xxxxxxx High School. In the affadavit, xxxx states he was aware that xxxx had been both selling and giving away pills since the 2006-2007 football season and that xxxx had told him the pills would make it so players would feel no pain during games, even from hits by other players. Xxxx verbally committed to UVA in December.

The Xxxxxxx City School Superintendent says since this matter deals with students and personnel, he cannot comment on the matter at this time.

Along with alleging that some of the coaches knew about the drugs, police also allege some of the assistant coaches may have known about the armed robbery. However, the coaches did not report it to the police.

In the affidavit released Wednesday, HPD Sgt. Xxxx Xxxx, Xxxx Criminal Investigations Gang Unit, says it was "very apparent that there was an overwhelming amount of information and knowledge about the use and distribution of pain pills by football players of the xxxx High School football team." Police Guy also says that not only did the players know about this themselves, but several coaches also had this information and knowledge. In the affidavit, Police Guy talked with head football coach Xxxx Xxxx.

He says, "Xxxx stated he had heard of Xxxx Xxxx selling drugs on one occasion and on another occasion received an anonymous note that his football players were selling drugs." Xxxx also says he approached Drug Guy about it in the spring of 2007, but that Xxxx denied any involvement or knowledge.

In the affidavit, Xxxx goes on to say that "Head Coach stated that even though he had received information about Drug Guy selling drugs and received a follow-up anonymous letter about it, he never reported this information to police." The affidavit also alleges that two assistant coaches, Xxxx Xxxx and Xxxx Xxxx, had knowledge of some of these reports. Police Guy says Xxxx told him he had no knowledge of of the drug dealing, but did know about the armed robbery, which he allegedly never told police about.

Police Guy adds Xxxx coach guy said he had heard about the allegations and had questioned Drug Kid, but he "did not know where to draw the line between what was rumor and what was real." "

Weight update

This morning I weigh 6 pounds less than I did on March 31. I'm sure it's mostly water weight because this kind of weight loss can't be maintained safely, and heaven knows I'm eating enough. But it's a nice start!

And it's 79 degrees now--I can't wait to get outside!

And so it begins--or maybe ends?

Something I'd rather not blog about directly. I suspect that there's going to be a big shake-up here.

The B2 Chronicles part 3

"He's naked right now, in A's bathroom, standing on a stool- just used the potty. He's singing/telling his "friends" to "WATCH OUT GUYS!!!" as he's aiming his penie at things. Now I hear "OUCH, OUCH" and running water... better go."

The B2 Chronicles

Update (I know you're all thrilled, but he really amuses me.):

"All is good... B2s teacher, Ms. M, said he was GOOD! I didn't ask anything else.

No milkshakes- he didn't even ask this time! I have been feeding them low fat foods, no cookies or junk at all... he suffered for the first week. I brought them small sundaes from McDonalds once last week and B2 went on and on... "OH THANK YOU MOMMY!!! I JUST CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!" and shook his head smiling.. poor chunk. They are eating a lot more fruit for dessert, and not complaining about having grapes or pineapple or oranges. Good."

I had suggested a milkshake as a reward, but this is much better!

My grandson, the flasher

From my daughter:

B2 pushed red Play Doh down my bathroom sink drain last night. He had put water in the sink, too. Bless his little heart. He went off to preschool this morning, skipping. So happy to be back. I bet he comes out this morning a different boy. His head will be down, and he won't say good-bye to his teacher, like always. I will then hear "B2 had another rough day today. He couldn't keep his hands to himself" or "he was running around OUT OF CONTROL!!!" or "He was showing his privates, again". You never know. (That only happened after his surgery and he just wanted everyone to see what had been done, I guess...)

Eavesdropping at the IOTA Club and Cafe

Wow, I thought I'd probably gained 10 pounds this past weekend. Saturday morning we stopped at Tom's sister-in-law's house to visit with family and friends (support for the 1st anniversary of Tom's brother's murder), a celebration instead of mourning. Gary's remembered for what he lived for, and I hope that his killer is remembering what he did last April and wishes it hadn't happened. Not that it changes anything.) and there was lots of food--good food, and I tried to limit the bad stuff, but for a celebration, I don't worry about the content too much!

Then we headed off to Arlington to the IOTA club, with a stop in Fairfax to check into our hotel and try to rest a little. We're not used to staying up till 10, much less 1 or later, so we hoped to take a nap. But since we'd never been to the IOTA and it's Last Train Home's home venue, Tom called to see what time we should get there. 5 p.m.--"It's filling up fast, man, it's going to be busy tonight. You'd better get here as fast as you can."

Crapola. So off we went to find the place. I'm not familiar with Arlington at all, and it's been years since Tom's spent much time there. I was pleasantly surprised; it's got lots of little and big stores, tons of cafes and restaurants of all types of food, and since it was a pretty evening, many people out with their dogs, kids, strolling the streets, eating outside at the restaurants, shopping.

Got to the IOTA, a tiny, tiny cafe with a club room, standing room only except at the bar, to get our seats. Guess what? NOBODY was there yet, except a couple of people in the bar watching the sound check. Guess the guy who answered the phone was amused. Anyway, we got to hear Last Train Home get ready for the show, which was fun. Okay, okay, I'm an overage groupie.

So we went to the Container Store, which I'd never seen before, to get some ideas for our future yarn/book room when our master bedroom is finished. They have a shelving/storage system, can't remember the name now, that's incredible. They'll design the system free; the components aren't cheap, but we're not designers and this seems to be sturdy, attractive alternative to tubs of yarn and unmatched bookshelves (did I tell you that I broke the shelf on one of our bookshelves when I shoved one too many knitting book onto it? No? Okay, then, we'll pretend it didn't happen).

We went back to the IOTA early and got our table in the cafe. With Tom's bad back and knee (he's had two back surgeries), he isn't comfortable on a bar stool, so we chose a small--and I mean maybe 4' square small) jammed against other small tables. We took our time, ordered an appetizer (they have a small menu, but the food is extremely good), a while later our dinners. We were almost the only ones there till around 8:30, when it got really busy.

It's a great place to eavesdrop on conversations. I mean, the tables are so close together, and the people are so loud, that it's impossible to ignore them. Even with my limited hearing, I could see and hear what was going on around us. The couple two tables down (which means they were maybe 4' from us) were evidentally on their first date. I'm betting there won't be a second one. The guy either got really drunk really fast, or he had a bad speech impediment, and he was incredibly ignorant of social niceties, especially for a date. He was leaning over the table, reaching for the girl's hand most of the dinner, while she sat with her back as close to the wall as she possibly could without sinking through it. I think she really did want to disappear. I couldn't see her face and wouldn't stare (oh, how I wanted to!); Tom sat facing a mirror and could see everything in the room. When Dreamboat went to the restroom, I asked Tom what his date's face showed; he said she looked anxious and ready to run.

Dreamboat kept mentioning his mother and how much this girl was like her. That's always a smooth move, Romeo. Near the end of their dinner, he started in on politics and how wrong she was in her beliefs and proceeded to call her "sweetheart" in a condescending voice, explaining her errors in judgement. She snapped and screamed, quietly (good for her!!!) but in a high pitched voice, several sentences that I couldn't understand, then she was quiet for the rest of the dinner. She just tried that melding act with the wall. Poor girl. I felt so sorry for her. I'm guessing that whoever set them up for this obviously blind date will no longer be her friend.

So, anyway, the point of this post is to announce that, in spite of eating like a pig all weekend, I maintained my 4-pound weight loss. Good thing I'd lost that 4, or I'd be back to the starting point.

Eric Brace has perfect teeth

That's all I can say right now.

Happy Birthday, Tom!!!

Weight update

It's only been a couple of days, but I'm working on it. I'm not eating a bunch of crap at home or school, and I make myself think, "Am I really hungry?" before I eat anything. Usually it's just habit. I read and I eat. I watch tv and I eat. I knit and I eat (only non-greasy things, though). I eat and I read--that's a bad habit, because not only is it impolite, it reinforces the reading-eating connection.

I'm even drinking green tea this morning, but I have to confess that it's only because the Pepsi machine in my teachers center is out of Pepsi, and the office downstairs was locked when I got here (at stinking 6:37 a.m. this morning, thankyouverymuch) (yes, I know that's redundant, that's why I wrote it that way). So I'll probably still get a Pepsi in a few minutes when I go down to work in the attendance office.

But I weighed myself on these old office scales, and I'm 4 pounds lighter than Wednesday. I'm sure it's water weight and I know you're not supposed to weigh yourself every day because fluctuations like that can be depressing (supposed I drank a lot of water last night and didn't get up to pee several times and weighed more this morning?), but I'll probably do it anyway.

Thanks for your support!

P.S.

Last week I was measured for a bra for the first time in my life. I went to Soma, which is a part of the Chico's group. Since for some reason my bras don't fit, I decided to buy a good one and have it fit.

You see, I didn't have boobs until about 10 years ago. I certainly didn't when I was a teenager. Pregnancy helped for a short time, but then they deflated and were smaller than ever. But I was skinny, too.

Enter perimenopause, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, and depression. I stopped exercising (I was in good shape when J was a Jazzercise instructor and I got to take free classes), gained weight, lost 25 pounds after surgery for reflux (8 weeks on a semi-liquid diet), and over the last 5 years I slowly gained it back. Now I'm 7 pounds above my pre-surgery weight, and I've got boobs.

My clothes don't fit. Anything that buttons up the front just gapes open. (Okay, not just at the boobage area now. Also the gut area.) So I was measured for a bra and got one that reduces the bust by 1". I was so impressed that I bought two of them.

Oh my goodness. No jiggling when I walk. My tops fit so much better. I love these bras! (I can't post a link--blocked because it's "provocative attire". Like the kids can't find their way to porn sites here.)

http://www.soma.com/.

Going public

Okay, people, this is it. This can go on no longer.

No more buttered popcorn. I weigh more than I've ever weighed, and I don't like it. I bought a cute pair of shoes last week that have buckles, and I almost cannot reach around my gut to buckle them.

So, in front of God and you guys, I'm vowing to lose weight. 30 pounds. Then I'll look at "things" and rethink it all. By the end of the year. (I vowed in January--not a resolution, since I don't keep those hahahahahahahahaha!--that I'd lose 24 pounds by July. That's only 4 pounds a month, totally doable, but only if you don't sink into a deep dark pit that's only scaled by mounds of buttered popcorn and lots of medications.)

I just weighed myself here at school (my skinny boss keeps them here, damn her skinny ass) and it's appalling. I'll write down the amount and hide it in my desk drawer, and I'll keep track of it and share it with you (if it happens. Yeah, yeah, think positively and all that.) I'd post a photo but it would scare the children and animals.

So, keep me on my toes, will you? I'll need all the help I can get.

I love Google

Have you noticed the cute things that Google does on holidays, like clovers and stuff for St. Patrick's Day, to the heading "Google"? I expected something big from them yesterday, April Fool's Day, but apparently they're a lot smarter, and quieter, than I am.

I even told A, and patiently waited while she laboriously wrote www.google.com, to check it and see what cute thing they did for April 1. She was really excited about googling something.

Then I got to school and checked, and nothing. Nothing at all. I was so disappointed and hated that I'd apparently lied to my granddaughter.

But last night before I went to bed, I went to google something and there it was, in a tiny link underneath the search box. A link to Virgle, an enterprise founded by Virgin Records owner and the founders of Google, complete with application to join their venture. From Wikipedia:

"Virgle

Google announces a joint project with the Virgin Group that aims to establish a permanent human settlement on Mars (http://www.google.com/virgle/index.html). This operation has been named Project Virgle. it also includes videos of Richard Branson as well as Larry Page & Sergey Brin (The Founders of Google) on YouTube , talking about Virgle.[1] The site even includes a comedic "Application" to join in the settlement. The application includes questions like "What is your major?" A. Physics, B. First Aid, C. Engineering, or D. Guitar Hero II. After submitting the application, the site either notifies you that you are not fit for space, or that application is fine and that "all you have to do is submit your video [as a response to their video on YouTube]." The creators of Virgle wish to convey the following -- 'So long, and thanks for all the fish!'"

They didn't let me (and the world of Google fans) down. But how on Earth am I going to explain that to an 8-year-old???

I lied

But not intentionally.

Tom called the guy who's selling my Dream House in Florida City or Homestead, somewhere like that. This man didn't exactly have a good grasp of the English language, like his dad who showed us the house, but he managed to express the price: $1.4 million. That's more like what we'd expected when we looked at the place, but the man insisted it was $270,000.

*heavy sigh*

Oh well, it didn't have a pool, anyway.

Eyeball stuff

Ah, the joys of aging.

I had another injection of Lucentis yesterday to try to clear up the new "leakage" in the macula. I think that's what it's called. Macular Degeneration, anyway. Right now I can't read with my left eye because of the extra blurriness from the newest leakage, but I'm hoping that it'll clear up soon.

Can't see my knitting, either, but my right eye is the dominant one, so I can still see well enough to do both!

On a happier note, the retinologist said that there's no reason that I can't try to wear contacts again. I don't know if that's good or bad, but I'd like to try them. I wore them for years and loved them, but perimenopause destroyed that. Now that it's behind me, I'll try again.

To Deedee

I'm not at home; I'm at my parents' house for the night. I just called Tom and he said that there was a box from Amazon waiting for me. I asked him to open it, and it was this book that I'd seen on your blog that I said I wanted. Thank you so much, my friend! I'll enjoy it and use it and take good care of it.

Looking forward to seeing you in July!

Those house photos I promised

*sigh* Someone else will get my dream house, but I can still dream about it.

Entry hall

Rooms to the left of entry, including a huge bedroom and full bath.

Huge great room looking into family room (so many public rooms that it's impossible to name them all!!!)



This room would be our library:



Lanai and side yard:



Gotta go now; I have an appointment with my retinologist this afternoon, and it's a 2-hour drive. I suspect I'll have to have a shot in the eye again, but it's worth it if it works. I'll put up more photos when I have time, maybe tomorrow afternoon. Maybe not.

Another FO!

I finished those (black)hearted socks yesterday on the way home. YES!!! Goal achieved!

In the truck just after I finished them:

And on my feet today (shoe shopping in Ft. Lauderdale--a dream! Three pairs.):

The History of the Middle Finger

Sent to me by my cousin:

Well, now......here's something I never knew before, and now that
I know it, I feel compelled to send it on to my more intelligent
friends in the hope that they, too, will feel edified. Isn't history
more fun when you know something about it?

Before the Battle of Agincourt in 1415, the French, anticipating
victory over the English, proposed to cut off the middle finger of
all captured English soldiers. Without the middle finger it would
be impossible to draw the renowned English longbow and
therefore they would be incapable of fighting in the future. This
famous English longbow was made of the native English Yew
tree, and the act of drawing the longbow was known as 'plucking
the yew' (or 'pluck yew').

Much to the bewilderment of the French, the English won a major
upset and began mocking the French by waving their middle
fingers at the defeated French, saying, See, we can still pluck
yew! Since 'pluck yew' is rather difficult to say, the difficult
consonant cluster at the beginning has gradually changed to a
labiodentals fricative F', and thus the words often used in
conjunction with the one-finger-salute! It is also because of the
pheasant feathers on the arrows used with the longbow that the
symbolic gesture is known as 'giving the bird.'

And yew thought yew knew every plucking thing.

P. S.

We're home. There's also a big difference between 85 degrees and 40 raw, damp degrees.

No Great Dane

Okay, even if we could get the house in Homestead, I'd have to give up the idea of a huge guard dog. On the way home this afternoon, I saw one out in his yard taking a dump.

Big big difference between Yorkie poop and Great Dane poop. Just sayin'.

Who am I kidding?

I won't sleep much tonight. Too wound up. And too cranky; I left my wine in the truck (Le Snoot and Dog House, two fine reds) and I will not leave this room until it's daylight and Tom is with me. (Almost a year to the day that Tom's brother was shot and killed in his motel room as he and his sons unloaded their car.) I have a chocolate croissant left over from breakfast (from a great little French bakery in Ft. Lauderdale; if I can find the link later, I'll add it) and I'm going to eat it in a few minutes. Chocolate goes so well with reds.

So here's the second (black)hearted sock, at least, what I knit today. The "in progress" photos are on another card and I'm too tired to upload them tonight.

At Sonny's BBQ somewhere in Georgia, I think:

Notice the clever draping of sock over spider veins and wrinkles?

Last, but not least (you know I'll never shut up), with only a couple of rows left:


I'll finish it tomorrow.

Oh, Mr. President Bush?

I'm waiting for my incentive check to arrive. I really really desire a new camera.

Make it soon, 'k?

Do I really HAVE to go home?

We spent the day in the truck, 14 hours' worth, which should have put us within a few hours of home. But it seems that the entire East Coast had spring break this past week and was heading home, too.

In front of us.


In back of us.


For hours the traffic was more parking lot than actual driving. If I hadn't had my knitting, I'd have gone insane, and I wasn't even the one driving. I was just along for the music and company.

Not only was the entire East Coast on I95 in Georgia and South Carolina, there were miles and miles of road work, which meant that at least one lane was closed for 30 miles or so, and which also meant that many of the idiots going home had to rush to the front of the closing lane and then push into one of the two available lanes. I did a lot of screaming and gesturing.

For some reason, this sign amused me; check the photo that follows it and you'll see why.




Heh. I have a sick sense of humor, and I needed that today. Poor Tom. He didn't complain. I did it all for him. See what a good wife I am?

To add insult to injury, it started pouring right around dark. We were really lucky; it was the first rain since we left home on Good Friday. But back to bad luck; everyone on the East Coast decided to call it a night and stopped at hotels. Every hotel at every exit for two hours was full. Every. Flucking. One.

But by that time, we were listening to XM radio's uncensored comedy channel and laughing ourselves silly. At least, I laughed myself silly. It was dark. I couldn't see to knit. So I laughed.

Finally found a hotel with one unrented room, and here we are.

I'm going to bed. Knitting content will follow when I'm able to get online again.

Girls?

So, what do you say? The house is perfect.

My precocious baby, part 2

A had her Supprelin implant today and was thrilled with how easy it was. She is very up and happy about the whole thing. She said that she'll have them till she's 12.

I'm so relieved!

My Three Sisters

(Or, if they aren't willing to share in this incredible venture, I'll take offers from up to two or three others.)

Today we found The House. It's perfect. All tile floors, lots of windows, huge kitchen and great room, six bedrooms and six baths; five bedrooms have private baths.

Here's the plan. This palace, on two full acres, entirely fenced, is--get this--only $270,000. Yes. You read that right. (Okay, the guy who showed it to us doesn't speak English too well, but I asked over and over, pointing to the price on the spec sheet, and he agreed every time. Yes, 270 thou, yes, two acres. From there to there.

Okay, there are four of us and assorted husbands. Each of us only needs to kick in $70,000 right now (cash preferred; Tom doesn't want to sell that old Porsche yet) and we've got us a mansion in the agricultural area of Homestead, Florida, near the Everglades (and thus the necessity for a fenced yard). Of course, since we found it, Tom and I would get the master suite (wait till you see the photos; getting ready to go to a Brazilian restaurant for dinner, so I can't download them now), but the rest of you can pick your bedrooms. The one in the front is almost a suite.

There's a dining room, a media room, a room that has glass doors but has open arches into another room, a beautiful lanai, on and on and on.

I figure we can have a maximum of 10 dogs, fewer is the dogs are big, maybe more if they're Yorkie or Chihuahua size. We'll have a Great Dane as a guard dog.

So, who's up for this? I'm making a list. Show you the photos later.

We're off!

to Parrot Jungle Island in Miami. I love that stuff! We may go to the Everglades, too, to Robert Is Here, a great fruit stand/milkshake place. Key lime milkshakes!!!

My precocious baby

is having her SupprelinLA implant thingy tomorrow. Think good thoughts, please. Thank God for insurance!!!

Heaven

Tom's daughter has a 52" tv in her bedroom, along with a memory foam king-sized bed. Not to mention wireless access with connection to the tv. Can you imagine your 55-year-old eyes reading email on a screen that big???

I may never leave.

Not the Easter Bunny

A and B2 went to the mall to have their picture taken with the Easter Bunny.

My youngest grandson, age 4, loudly said, "He's not the Easter Bunny! He's a man in a costume!" while the Easter Bunny asked my daughter if he could have her business card.

WTF???

Orlando!

It's so good to be back in Florida. I've never lived here, but every time I come back, I feel like I'm at home.

Since I was 11 I've lived in the mountains of Virginia and West Virginia, but the flat land of Florida is where I feel most comfortable.

Family

We're at my cousin's hotel in the Blue Ridge Mountains of NC. Gorgeous up here, and it's so good to see family I haven't seen in 15 years and some I've never seen.

Family's the best.

Then, tomorrow morning, on to Florida!

We have a winner!

And I owe a big apology to everyone else.

Somehow I missed Trillian's entry, "scrub ALL of your hands"; all I can say is that my boss has been gone all week and is back today and I've had fun playing this week and I was busy and trying to multitask and missed it.

When I get home, Trillian, I'll pick out some yarn for you.

Thank you all for playing along and being good sports! I don't think that any other post has had this many comments. I guess I need to bribe you all now and then!

Yarny stuff

Claudia has asked me if I'd like to knit test garments for her. She'll pay me in yarn.

How long do you think I had to consider that? You're right.

First she has us knitting gauge samples. She's had some patterns written for some of her designs, which are incredible, and she gave two of us yarn (Heidi got chunky in Antique Jeans**drool** and I got worsted in Strawberry Latte) and told us to go at it. So far I've knit one on size 8s and one on size 7s. Here's the 8s (couldn't tell you the gauge; I was gone all last weekend and didn't have time to check it):




This one isn't striping as obviously as the one on smaller needles, but it's striping. I'm hoping that on a garment it'll work up better.

Test-knitting for Claudia? Hell, yeah!