Monday, August 14, 2017

Of birthdays, injuries, and exciting finds

No, in case you were wondering based on the title of this post, today is not my birthday.  However it was in fact last Tuesday, therefore making this a continuation of  birthday week until midnight and hence I can still write this post within a reasonable passage of time.  So there.

Image result for and it's kind of my birthday tangled 
(Say what you will, this is one of my favorite lines of the whole movie) 
I turned old this year.  Actually, I've turned old every year for as long as I can remember.  For some reason I am always surprised at the amount of people who, when asking my age, don't understand what I mean when I say I'm "as old as the year".  I mean, is that such a weird simile to use that no one but myself understands it?  I understand me.  Do you understand me?  Does anyone understand me?!?!  Probably not, so we'll move on.

Do you know what my dear brother, sister, and brother-in-law surprised me with this year?  A pinata, they got me a pinata!  And not only that, they filled it with an absurd amount of skittles, because clearly they love me very much.  So I was taken outside, blindfolded, spun (which I could've done without), handed a sharp, pokey stick, and told to have at it.  Oh, it was great fun!  I do so love surprises! 
The Pinata at the Hospital
Once the poor donkey was brutally beaten and decapitated, of course Emma, in all her natural grace and dignity, proceeded to-(remember that sharp pokey stick?)-well she stepped on it.  Really stepped on it.  Without shoes.  That is not something I'd recommend any of you doing.  You see, limping around on a bandaged foot for a day and a half causes a lot of pressure on the opposite ankle, thus creating-in the words of my Pepere-"a hitch in your get-along", which then of course inevitably leads to a knot in your upper back.  Moral of the story?  Do not step on sharp pokey sticks. 

Okay, so that was my birthday! (Which really truly was fantastic despite.)  Come Thursday I hadn't succumb to blood poison and it was also shopping day.  While wandering through Walmart trying to find, of all things, a pair of scissors, I stumbled across a super exciting (exciting for me, anyways) something in the clearance aisle!  (Seriously though, you wouldn't believe how difficult it is to find the right kind of paper shears with all the mounds of school supplies they have in that horrible gigantic place.)

I found a big box of my favorite brand of yarn at a great discount on one of the clearance shelves!  This brand is usually pretty pricey so if I knew I needed it for a project I'd hoard my Michael's coupons and buy it there.  (Have I mentioned my love of that store before?  It is my favorite, before I went to  New York I was practically on a first name basis over there ;) )

 The pictures doesn't quite do the color justice but the finished product comes out looking sort of like a stained glass window.  Really pretty, anyway!  I'm going to use these skeins to make a bunch of "slouchy" hats for upcoming craft fairs and my new Etsy shop!  (More on that soon)

Finally in closing, I thought you'd like to know that I have checked a few items off of my list of summer ambitions.  I'll try and get a post up about that soon so you can see what mischief I've been up to!




Thursday, August 3, 2017

Open Letter to August

     Is it really you again, dear?  It seems to me still so recent when we parted ways that eve of last September, how strange when I realize an entire year has come and gone since.  I've grown older, but somehow you still seem the same in my eyes - reckless, daring, youthful, full of all things bright and promising - just as you always are.

     When I was a child you were always my favorite, like a friend one looks forward to chumming with while on holiday, counting down the days until you arrived.  Hoping when you did that this time you would stay longer, perhaps never leave at all.  But time and again you spin me through your whirlwind of excitement, careless of time, oh so fleeting, careless that Summer's magnificent concerto is nearing its finale.
     I regret to say, my dear, that you behave rather like a rogue, yet despite this I will leave off reprimanding you for it.  Even if I could find the proper words with which to scold you I know it would do no good, for you would take them lightly, with a giggle and a wink, and be off again in twirls.  Perhaps it is this very roguishness that allows me to pardon you again year after year.  Perhaps it makes you somehow, in spite of your foolishness, endearing, a quality I have commonly found among most rogues of my acquaintance.

     Regardless of your faults, I confess that I remain still very fond of you, although not in the same way as when I was child.  I know now that you will not stay forever.

     Still I dance to your merry whirlwind and enjoy doing so, however now I am ever conscious that just as the golden summertime, no dance can last forever, but eventually must end and give way to the next.  Until then, let the crescendo rise, your dance has begun.

Devotedly Yours,