Monday Musings 15-21

(Disclaimer: The items presented in these weekly musings are being used purely as a cathartic way to purge my closets and give a squeeze to my creative juices.  They are not being offered up to burden the drawers and closets of my readers...that being said, if there is something here that you have waited for all your life, who am I to stand in your way?)

The odd bunch. 

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Heaven only knows how I acquired #1.  It has been languishing in a drawer for years.  I did put it on my mantel once.  It only took a nanosecond before it was spotted by the cats.  You know the rest of the story.

#2 was glued to the bottom of dish #5 as a sort of cake stand.  It would not have supported a Twinkie.  As in the shelf bird, a nanosecond after I received it (it was a Christmas gift), the cordial glass parted company with the plate.  I suppose I should have counted it as one item, but, since it's in two pieces...

#3 I have a bad habit of never trying on clothes before I buy them.  I think the main reason is that I refuse to subject myself to dressing room lighting.  Wouldn't you think that they would put in soft, complimentary lights, giving you the illusion that, possibly, you ARE Adele?  Instead, I seem to be an emissary of the Creature of the Black Lagoon.  I'd rather take my chances with non-fitting clothes.   Ergo, this nice top that a) does nothing for me but bad things and b) doesn't fit.  It has been rescued by my sis, on who it looks fabulous.

#4-5  The plate at the top and the plate at the bottom were both Christmas gifts.  The plate at the top was a clear glass plate that now dons a decoupage bottom.  We know the story of the plate at the bottom.

#6  A total of 61 glow-in-the-dark rubber eyeballs and one rubbery ring that used to flash on and off.  Don't ask.

#7  One of SIX nut crackers that I own.  Why?  Haven't a clue.

It's all about the buttons.

Do you remember waaaaaay back when, when I was chugging along on a larger-than-normal knitting project?  I had finally finished it and then it languished.  For months - nay - years.  My excuse was that I had to find just the right buttons.  I did.  This past late summer, Kay's daughter and husband started parting with her giant, bottomless stash in a series of (painful for all) tailgate sales.  I spied these buttons and remembered when she got them.  She had come bustling over - chaos in motion, at least one knitting bag, probably two or three (she had at least six projects in the works at all times), purse, keys, exuberance - and showed me these buttons.  They were thin slices of walnut shells.  She never got the chance to use them on the perfect project, but I have.  And it's not like I need these buttons to remind me of her - I still think of her every single day - but it's awful nice to look down and see them and know that she would approve.

A little ray of sunshine.



It's hard to tell from this angle, but in that little patch of sunlight are: Lovey, Pepperoni, Kramer and Slimbo.  Quadruple the heat!  Scrappy is happy to be tucked into his fleece blanket on the sweet spot on the sofa.  I am just amazed to see sun!



Monday Musings 8-14

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I am having a rather good time rummaging around in my stuff and tossing things in the "out you go" bin.  There were no takers for the prior items, other than the Anchor Hocking dish.  So into the Goodwill bin they went.

 

Now to this week's selection.  I have had this big (BIG) comfy down jacket for a long time and it's saying something that I have not stained it, ripped it or generally destroyed it.  My mother has the exact same jacket.  The last time I wore this was when a well-meaning sales clerk exclaimed, "Why look at you two!  You look exactly alike!  Twins!"  First, let me state that being told I look like my mother is an extreme compliment, as she is a beautiful woman (inside and out).  However...being told that I look exactly like a 91 year old is not high on my list.  I would much rather hear -  "OMG!  It's Adele!!!!"  (Yes, yes - snowball's chance in hell and all that, but a girl can dream...)  So my red jacket is ready for a new home.

 

Number 2 is a Brooks Brothers heavy men's XL (although I'd say it's really a large) sweater.  A neighbor gave it to me.  I'm not sure why.  I already have the Geezer and I'm sticking with it.  This is a beautiful sweater and it needs a new, loving home.  (Aside:  Where the heck does "sweater" come from?  I mean, don't you put one on to keep warm?  Isn't it cold when you don your sweater?)

 

Number 3.  Yes, it's a fitbit.  I direct you to the Magpie Syndrome explanation.  There are two reasons this is on its way out.  First, I tend to balk when feeling that I am expected to walk a certain number of steps per day.  There's too much pressure.  If I have a fairly sedentary day at work and it's raining cats and dogs when I get home and all dark and dreary, am I expected to slog out and hot-foot my way to 10,000 steps?  Run in place?  Second, it was just this reason that my dearest friend, Kay, lost her life on a dark, dreary, rainy night - trying to cram in those last steps to top her record.  It needs to go to someone who is more disciplined than I am.

 

Number 4.  This was thrifted and I was taken in by its cute, pineapple-y charms.  That was six years ago and I have never used it.  Out it goes.

 

Numbers 5-7.  I could have lumped these under one category of "media" but I'm not gonna.  Honestly?  I cannot take one more viewing of Barbara Stanwyck doing slapstick.  I prefer the charming comedian Cary Grant to the charming rogue.  Valerie June has a great voice but every single song on this CD sounds the same.  These are destined for the library.

Welcome to my world.

Remember her?

It's a good thing she is as cute as she is, because she turning out to be as sharp as a marble.  I have a pretty good deal going with my dairy farmer neighbor:  he keeps my cow, Jasmine, we split the AI costs, I get milk whenever I need it.  It's almost perfect.  Jazzie's first calf was a heifer - Alice - who also lives at the farm.  Then it was a whole long line of bull calves until this last Christmas.  Because it's a working dairy farm, staffed by a middle-aged farmer and some less than stellar farm help, calves have to transition from bottle to bucket fairly quickly.  This has not been an issue until...you guessed it .... Daisy.  I have been toddling up to the farm every morning at 6:30 to work with her, trying to kick up that dim bulb - OH! The BUCKET!  This has complicated my already complicated morning.  Starting January 4, I have new hours, thanks to the Merger From Hell (MFH).  I have to go in earlier, which means ratcheting up my morning game.  I already get up at 4A, which allows me some quiet time to knit and read my daily journal entry on my path to enlightenment (right Mama Pea?)  This also means the doglets are getting breakfast at 6 (no complaints heard so far), then to the farm, then back for my own breakfast, then out to do chickens and sheep, then back in to do a superfast shower, flash dry, reasonable facsimile of work clothes, then out the door for my hour's commute.  This seems to work, although there is no room for glitches.  And you know there are always glitches.

This morning I walked into the barn to find the farmer with his hair on end and an armful of tools.  The water system that waters the cows was not working on a quarter of the barn, so 15 cows were not getting water.  Plus it was the morning the milk truck was coming.  I put myself in overdrive and fed all the calves (saving Daisy for last because, well, she's as sharp as a marble).  Then I grabbed two 5 gallon buckets and watered all the cows in the dry zone (motivated because my dear Jazzie is in that section).  Then I rocketed home, snorted down my oatmeal, threw feed at everyone outside and made it in to find...I had no time to shower.

Since there is definitely a slight but noticeable Eau de Cow Barn about me, I am keeping a low profile.  TGIF.

Winter arrives.

And Lovey is not amused.

Neither is her person, who is on her way to the mechanics.  0 degrees.  Ho, ho, pfft.

Monday Musings 1-7

This feels a lot like True Confessions.  The following are the first (well, first-ish) victims of the great purge. 

1)  I attribute most of this selection to the Magpie Syndrome.  You know, a bright, shiny object pops up and you lose your mind.  So it goes with the Crocs.  Though, they are not bright nor are they shiny.  Nor do they fit well or do anything to jazz up my wardrobe.  M/W size 6/8, if anyone is looking for a pair....

2)  Not all things should be purchased online.  At 4 AM.  This manicure kit looked more like something Edward Scissorhands would pull out than what I had in mind...

 

3)  This Anchor Hocking covered dish protected my cheese stash for years.  Then I moved into this house with its confined (and not-too-useful-in-my-book) side/by/side fridge.  It was too commodious so off it goes.  It has already found a new home, thanks to Facebook.

 

4)   I have dragged this adorable but amazingly difficult to fill rabbit eared salt mill around for decades.  Time for it to go.

 

5) A potato ricer.  Really?  And I needed it .... why?  It is another example of my weakness for kitchen implements.  It is a very nice, sturdy tool but I mash my taters with an ancient masher and I ain't going to change.  No how.

 

6) How many kitchen thermometers does one need?  Not as many as I have in my kitchen gizmo drawer, that's for sure.  A nice thermometer but I don't use it.

 

7)  I love this spiral cutter, but I got a new one for Christmas and I am afraid she (who will go unnamed and who never sets a foot in my house) will notice if I am using a different one.  Guilt strikes again.  These things are so cool and I am sure it will ease the burden of someone's zucchini bumper crop.

 

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