Let's Pretend

Let's play pretend. Let's pretend that I did all of my work yesterday, and not this morning because yesterday I had no energy. And let's say that today was full of things like pumpkin cookies that were made in a leisurely manner, and had cream cheese frosting, and cat ears spiritedly put together on Halloween, instead of cat ears that were improvised at 7:00 last night because I almost forgot about dressing up for school. Though, we don't have to pretend about the turning out cute part, 'cause they really did, didn't they?

So, let's see... we have leisurely frosted cookies, and a relaxing morning with no work, let's throw in some knitting, and we won't even have to pretend about taking our adorable kitty on some neighborly trick or treating, or ending the evening with to hot soup and an old episode of Start Trek. That part was perfect just the way it was.

Blessed Oblivion

What is it about a head cold, in any of its magnifications, that causes me to retreat into the relative oblivion of a book? I prefer a good book, a familiar book that I have visited before, and loved, and plan to visit again. There is something about being under the weather that allows me to experience a book in a particularity intense fashion. Last time it was Harry Potter... again. This time it is Pattern Recognition, definitely a step up the Literary Ladder, seeing as it ranks up there as perhaps my number one Favorite Book of all Time. Maybe it is simply that real life is so exhausting in this state, and unreal life can be properly appreciated.

Whatever it is, Pattern Recognition is where I will be until I snap out of it. There are pictures to be uploaded, and stories to tell of adventures in far off places with exotic people (Denver with friends) but they will just have to wait. This post took up all of my current energy supply.

Welcome Guest

Oh, and this is Joe the class Hamster. He stayed at our house this weekend. I had a whole post about Joe, and running errands really quickly and returning just in time to pick him up at school. But I only wrote it in my head, and now it is gone, and it is too late anyway because that was Friday, and now it is Monday.

Not Plan A

This weekend was all about Plan B. Plan A was to spend our special family Saturday at Lone Pine Farms with the pumpkins, and the goaties, and the tractors. Mid-freeway we were hit by a very wet downpour, and quickly announced Plan B. Now, before you start with the name calling and the "Oh you wussies!" please understand, that my sweet husband and I had already decided the previous evening, that Plan B was to be Where the Wild Things Are. You know, out of the rain, and in with the Wild Things. So, if part of me was maybe just looking for a really good excuse to skip the otherwise perfectly lovely pumpkin patch, you will just have to be understanding.

Where the Wild Things Are turned out to be quite perfect, according to me. Beautiful, and a little bit tragic in a life-is-like-that sort of a way. Loved. It.

Plus, it turns out that the grocery store has a really great selection of pumpkins, that are very authentic, and carve up beautifully. And apples for baking. Plan B ya know.

The Holy Grail

Shopping for jeans is Hell. We all know this. You spend the entire day trying on every single pair of jeans in the entire mall, and you come home feeling tired, depressed, unsatisfied. Not a single pair looks as good on as the pair that you are actually wearing, which are threadbare, and have a hole in the crotch, and they don't make them anymore, or they changed the design and added SPANDEX. I swear there is not a pair of jeans in all 31 stores that does not have spandex, and if it does exist in the back of the women's department next to the granny panties, and the reason that it is there is because the waist of the jeans goes up to your nipples.

This being said, my primary shopping mode is thrifting, and while thrifting I have found many pairs of jeans, that I like and wear, a lot even... But! I have never found that perfect, that beautiful, that Holy Grail of favorite jeans.

The only place, that have ever found the perfect pair of jeans, is Buckle.com. I get a little quiver of relief just thinking about it. Buckle has roughly 1,000 separate styles of jeans for women alone. This may seem daunting. However, someone invented the most wonderful search engine and each category narrows your search, bringing you closer to possible perfection. Simply by choosing "non stretch" the choices jump from roughly 1,000, to exactly 131. I kid you not. Hit a button, and the jeans all flip over and show off their rear ends. That's right, so you can rule out all of the pants with those stupid flaps over the back pockets that will never again lie that flat, but will instead, curl up all over the place, and completely ruin your line.

My last pair of favorite jeans, succumbed last Thursday to a fatal hole, from which there is no return. Today, my new pair of favorite jeans arrived in the mail.

Unfortunately, I failed to realize that the 20 inch leg opening meant flare jeans, and I hate flare jeans. I have no one to blame but myself. Back they go, this time, remember to choose the 18" leg opening.

If this post seems shallow to you, slip into your favorite pair of jeans, or better yet, toss them out, and then you tell me.

Bonding and Stuff

Possibly my favorite time of day is, "Mama and Baby Time." Me being "Mama," and my not so tiny fourth grader being "Baby." Mama and Baby Time was invented by me as a way to prevent my growing up too fast daughter from growing up without me. My "baby" being the social creature that she is, I oftentimes come home from the workaday, to find her on the phone. Let me tell you, if there is one thing my daughter likes to do, more than anything in the whole world, it is talk. She talks pretty much all of the time whether anyone is listening or not. You might be able to guess, that these phone conversations can go on indefinitely, and often do. This situation, and others (life being what it is) can get in the way of bonding moments. How are we ever going to develop a Gilmore like bond if I never even get to hear about her day?

Thus, the invention of M & B Time. It works like this: I walk in the door, and no matter what else is going on, we count to three and say, "Mama and Baby Time!" and then we run and cozy up on whatever bed happens to be made, and she gets to talk, and tell me about... whatever she wants. That is the deal. And I listen. For 5 minutes. Sometimes it goes longer, but I am guaranteed 5 whole minutes, and so is she.

This precious time of the day is important. It makes up for crazy schedules, and the moods of 9 year olds, which can make supposed to be precious moments like tuck-in time into well, that really sucked moments instead. But never mind about my night. How was yours?

Yes, the photo is a complete non-sequitur. Don't mind me.

Pretty, but Not So Eloquent

Yesterday, my friend Kala the Great was having an art show opening in Florence, at a little shop called Silver Linings. Seeing this as a brilliant excuse to drive the two hours to the coast we hopped in the car and drove. While we drove the windy roads through the glorious weather, with the blue skies, and the changing leaves, I remember thinking thoughts of what I would write about the day. I thought about how I really should have gotten my oil changed before we made the trip, and how I would have to do it today. I though many things, but anything that was really and truly interesting seems lost to me. Of course, when we arrived home from our lovely little adventure, when the words were still fresh in my head, I was far to tired to do much more than rinse off the sand, and crawl into bed.

But! I do know, that the show was great (Kala has that art show opening thing down ) it will be there all month, so stop by if you are in the neighborhood. The beach was perfect for kite flying, if only we had a kite. For some reason unknown to me there were jellyfish scattered here and yon on the beach. Why is that, does anyone know? At the very end there was an inky black evening, of twisting road to travel home, but before the end there was clam chowder. Clam Chowder is sort of a prerequisite to a good day on the beach, I think.

The Magic Word

We have been having the most wonderful Fall weather; cold foggy nights, and crisp blue sky days like an apple cold off the tree. I have been fiercely craving carrot cake, and not just the eating, but the stirring and baking of it.

I have 5 or 6 projects on my knitting needles, or at least in my queue, and a Knitpicks order is brewing. Unfortunately, too few of these projects will become crafty posts as many are holiday surprises. Perhaps a post Christmas unveiling. I have the urge to carve a pumpkin, and scoop out one for Maddie too. I want to collect red leaves, and wear scarves. Of course, I always want to wear scarves, so that hardly counts, but still. There are a million little ideas and wishes brewing around and giving me butterflies in my tummy. I know I am not alone. I do truly love this time of year.

Website updates

A few updates to the katielizabeth website. Specifically to the screen print section. (Slowly but surely) Please check it out, an tell me what you think.

View From the Couch

Quite peacely according to me, which is quite important as I do spend a fair bit of time here.

This is Samantha the cat (aka Sammy) who is by all measures, a complete Scaredy Cat and would not last 2 minutes outside. In personality she is most like Jenny-Any-Dots, though I doubt if she would be brave enough to teach the rats to sew. As a house cat she is quite satisfactory, as she likes nothing more than a good lap sit. She has learned that I am not the most satisfactory candidate for such sitting as I am still only when knitting. She has not learned the term "no room" nor has she learned the value of feet-sitting where she would actually be useful. Unlike on my lap in the middle of my yarn.

In Recent News

Today we started the first fireplace fire of the season, and while the house may be just a tad toasty, it is oh so cozy. I think cookie baking may be in order.

I walked to the school to pick up Maddie, and wore the scrumptious red hooded coat that you may remember from this post. It was sprinkling, so I got to walk jauntily along with the hood up, and the air smelled like rain on asphalt, and wool.

Do Ya?

Do you ever just feel like,

Coloring outside the lines?