…dead. 
Archive for October, 2006
Mommy’s home!
I spent a good part of my childhood hating being around either of my parents. We did not get along at all. I was an unhappy child, as was my brother. It wasn’t until my late teen years that my parents became people that I actually enjoyed being around.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m very thankful things were as they were in my childhood. I wouldn’t have learned so much so young and I would never have gotten as far as I have without being forced to isolate myself at a tender age. Most importantly, it makes me value the relationship we have now more than I might have if we’d have gotten along all this time.
So, I’m wonderfully happy that Mommy and Daddy are home from Japan. I was more happy to see them than I can ever remember. I’m proud of the people they’ve grown up to be. And they really did grow up…. with me, in some strange way.
I’ve been spending lots of time hanging with Mom, venting about whatever happened while they were gone and her doing the same. I will tell you that she and I ventured off for a couple of evenings, without the boys… er… my brother came with on the second night. I will say this once and I shall never mention it again. I blew $150 in slot machines. Yes, I said slot machines. It wouldn’t be nearly as aggrivating if not for the fact that there was about 3 hours during which I was actually up about $300. Now, I don’t want to hear another word about it.
Part of the fun of Mommy coming home from Japan is that there are always gifts. This looks to me like a Japanese Peep. I had to take pics for Uccellina.
It’s like a cake with sweet paste inside.
The SIL and I got toe socks, which are apparently all the rage with the young crowd.
Erm….
Sorry about the lack of posting. I’ve been kept out of the house until 5 AM on two consecutive nights by my mother. If you don’t ask, I won’t tell.
Let’s just say I’m about $150 poorer than I was 2 days ago.
Cross your fingers!
I don’t want to jinx anything but I have been filling out applications for the last 5 hours… by hand… I’ll be dropping them off with my resume and cover letter tomorrow for three jobs in particular. Let’s just say that a little birdy thinks I’ve got a fantastic chance at this place.
Any of the three positions are in departments that I would do well in, utilize my best skills from my last place of employment, need someone with a brain, would be challenging yet not “Oh my god, I’m going to slit my wrists!” and are at a place about which I can genuinely be passionate. Oh… and it bears very little resemblance to my last job description.
One job in particular, I’m positively giddy about. It’s like the flip-side of the coin from my previous place of employment. I can totally handle the people I would work with because I used to be one of them. How much would that rock???
Oh yeah. And I would be getting paid again!!!! That’s always good.
Random Critter stuff
“Mommy… it’s time to build a fire in the woodstove. Like, now.”
“Oooooooo….. I found my nip baggy.”
“*Mwah* I’ve missed you so.”
“Oh, yeah, baby. I know you like it like that.”
“How about that? You like that? Huh? You like it?”
“Ngarrragh”
“Mwreowfft…”
“Wait! Don’t leave!”
“You make me crazy, honey. You know I need you.”
“See… I can be gentle, too…”
“Phew! I’m spent. Don’t ever leave me baby. You know I need your lovin’.”
“You’ve made me feel dirty, baby…. Very dirty…. Mwreow!”
Silence
Here, at the folks’ house, it’s a non-smoking household. So, several times over any given evening, M and I hop outdoors for a quick smoke. On one of our first nights here, I’d stepped outside at about 10 PM or so. The doggies went with me so that they could sniff around the yard and do their doggy business. After about 10 minutes, I heard yipping from the valley below us. I launched out of my seat and shoved the dogs inside the house, knowing that the sound might set them off, barking.
The yipping, howling and calling continued for a good 1/2 hour. It was coyotes. There were so many that it really boggled my mind. How could so many coyotes be living peacefully in such a small area together? They certainly didn’t do that in LA and I don’t ever recall hearing so many voices singing into the night when I was a child.
Judging by the sounds I heard that night, there were at least 30 coyotes. It sounded like several packs of 5 or so to each pack. I really was thrilled to have the opportunity to listen to them calling to each other. It was so obvious to me where each one was and how each one had a different voice. The air was so still that it was easy to figure out that at least 4 of the packs were literally in the back yards of our neighbors, about 200 yards east of where I was standing, spread across about 800 yards running north to south. There was one pack in our neighbor’s yard, across the street from our house and another 2 packs in the treeline behind another neighbor’s house.
They were so loud and the sound was so mournful and eerie. I remember feeling pangs of worry about the two little girls in their respective beds at each neighbor’s house. It was so loud that it surely must have woken them. It was so eerie that it certainly would have frightened them. And there is nothing you can shout at a coyote to make it stop singing.
Since that night, I’ve heard the coyotes many times and I smile every time. Sometimes it’s only 2 or three packs of 3 distinct voices each that I hear somewhere deep in the valley. Sometimes it’s that cacophony I heard on that first night. Each time it has that same, odd beauty.
I’m finding myself on the back porch often late at night. I’m alone with my thoughts, staring up at the stars that I can see now that I’m away from the city. It’s so quiet, with not even a breeze, that I can hear my heart thump away in my chest. I don’t even realize how quiet it is until an owl hoots as one did tonight, giving me a chuckle. Most of the time, the silence is broken by a very insistent, “Moooooooooo!!!!!” from a neighbor’s cow. It’s not a regular moo. It’s a moo as if to say, “I said Mooooooo, dammit!” Sometimes they call to each other across the valley. That’s another thing I remember from childhood, our cows calling to their friends across the way. I grew up about 200 yards from where I currently live. There’s a certain beauty in that.
It’s so quiet here that it’s almost difficult to sleep. M and I have taken to leaving the TV on at night and that seems to help. Even with all the silence and peace here, I have yet to rediscover the silence inside. It was there once upon a time and I’ve been desperately seeking it these last handful of years. I know it will come back to me eventually.
Until it comes back to me, there is one thing that I can tell you for certain. While sitting outside, late at night, listening to the silence in the valley below; when all the world’s creatures are snug in their beds and I’m searching for that silence buried deep inside my soul, there’s nothing more funny than that silence being broken by “Mooooooo!!!!!”
If you find that you’re starting to take yourself too seriously, seek bovine counsel.
This weekend’s random events…
I watched Discovery Atlas tonight. It was about Australia. They covered the camel races in Alice Springs which made me miss my Uccellina. A lot. Not the camel races part; the Alice Springs part. She’s not a camel, I promise. Although camels are cute and have hair fit for spinning…
It’s that time of the year when we have to get the poor poodle a ridiculous hair cut so that he doesn’t track mud and rain into the house after taking care of business. We found the local Petco and took both the canine fur-babies. Look at Venti’s white feet! We never notice how dirty they’ve gotten until they’re all shiny, white again. Pretty Venti!
Poor Camus, has to get what we affectionately refer to as “The Poo Feet”. We think these closely shorn feet make him look rather like Fred Astair. When his feet are like this, it accentuates the fact that he naturally prances. We took the doggies in on Friday and I’m still giggling every time I see them.
I couldn’t believe how well behaved the both of them were for those groomers. For me, they act like I’m skinning them alive; whining, crying and hiding under the bed. The ladies at the Petco are very fond of both the doggies and handed me their info, asking specifically to groom their respective doggies the next time they are due. Isn’t that cute? Making friends already! Maybe I’ll get a job faster if I have them with me on the interview.
A couple things I’ve been working on…
This scarf is for me. It’s been about 5 years since I’ve made myself a scarf. It’s about damned time! The yarn is my handspun from a roving I picked up from Janel at the Oregon Flock and Fiber Fest.
This is a scarfy/stoley thing that I plan to give the MIL for Christmas. It’s made from Bernat Satin which, BTW, has GOT to be the softest thing in the world!
This is why Camus is not permitted to kiss me for several days.
And then there was this.
Happy Friday
Did I mention before just how much I love thrift shops? 
The cover looks scary. And, indeed, there are many scary things inside. But look at this beauty! I don’t like everything about it but that stitch work is amazing!
Check out this little gem.
There are stitches in this book that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.
*sigh* My love of fiber and love of books are merging. It’s becoming a problem.
On the bobbin: Stuff for Trish.
I hope y’all get some rest this weekend!
Another little bit of me.
Found this on Keri’s site and got a kick out of it.
I feel the need to point out that I’m an atheist so I’m not quite sure what drove me to take the test. Perhaps I took it BECAUSE I’m an athiest and I knew I’d get a kick out of it.
Ah, the mysteries of the world will never cease.
A little story: Many moons ago, when I was but a wee child, I went hunting with my father. My brother always went hunting with my father and I was a bit jealous that I was not allowed to go on a regular basis. Yes, I’m a girl but, dammit! I can do what he can do, right? We should be treated the same, right? But I digress…
For as long as I can remember, the family went hunting in Eastern Washington, in an area near Yakima. Everyone knows the area now and I feel as though the charm is now missing. I feel like the area that only my father, brother and our friends knew about has some how been stolen by interlopers. That area is called George. As you know, there is a gorge at George that everyone has figured out is a kick ass natural amphitheater. It annoys me. I don’t know why. It just does.
Once, when I was about 8, my father was off hunting and he called home, collect, from a payphone. Back then, I recall, the operator always asked you where you were calling from. I still wonder why they asked. Couldn’t they tell on their little switchboard dealy? Anyway, Dad stopped off at Martha’s Inn, a fantastic restaurant just outside of George to give us a call to let us know what he was up to. Back then, George was “Population 4″ and had a Karate studio and… well… they had a Karate studio.
So the operator asks Dad where he’s calling. “Port Orchard, Washington,” he says.
“Where are you calling from?”
“George”
“Excuse me? George? Is that a town?”
“Yes. I’m in George, Washington.”
“What? Come on, now…”
“Yes. That’s where I am. It’s a town called ‘George’ in Washington.”
“You’re kidding me…
“I’m serious. I’m in George.”
“And where, exactly, in Washington is George, sir?” asks the operator, dripping with sarcasm.
“It’s next to Martha’s Inn.”
“*click*”
“…. hello?…”
It took Dad a moment to realize that not everyone knows where Martha’s Inn is located, especially if they don’t hunt. At some point, while waiting for another operator to come on the line for his second attempt, he remembered that Martha Washington was the first First Lady. Oops.
I love thrift stores.
Around here, our Goodwill and St. Vincent de Paul stores are enormous. They’re huge beyond your wildest dreams. Also, the type of clothing you can find there are things you would normally find in some trendy thrift store on Melrose. Plus all the crap you would normally find at the Goodwill… But at least there’s good stuff.
Anyway, I hit up a couple stores and left with happiness.
I was really happy about this one. There just aren’t enough patterns out there for men’s sweaters, in my opinion. This will give me what I need to make my own patterns, if I feel like it. Somehow, I think M would just be plenty thrilled to wear any one of these.
How cool is this book????
Inside: I can see this in some different colors… and not so much with the busy over the boobs. I don’t need to draw any more attention to my boobs…
LOVE these!!!!!
And LOVE this! I’ve recently picked up the crochet again. Mainly because I’ve uncovered Mom’s acrylic stash. So, afghans a’coming…
I’m sorry… I think this is funny as hell. Faux buckskin crochet. LMAO!
