Mystery Meal

I think I need to put the name of the contents on the bags of food that I freeze. This might be stew; it might be chili; it might be rhubarb sauce. I don't know but I am thawing it and one of us will eat it.

Surprise!!!



UPDATE:  I was wrong.  It turned out to be PW's delicious spaghetti sauce!

Puny

I am at home fighting a sinus infection. I'm feeling puny and I thought I would share.

These are photos taken from billions of miles away from earth by Voyager 1.

Feeling puny now?

I just hope that gravity keeps working.

Did She Die?

That is what my older daughter asked me once when I was about to tell her a story about someone I knew, or someone a friend knew, or someone who was someone’s hairdresser who knew the cousin of….

I don’t remember.

But I do know that my daughters accuse me of stockpiling sad, unpleasant tales of Woe.   And Suffering.  And, yes, Death.

I admit that I think I might be guilty of being Debbie Downer on occasion, but I blame my age.  And my friends’ ages.  We are all in the same boat, and I think of the way life works as this:

We are all hoping we are dodging bullets we don't even know are coming our way.

Cases in point:

A friend told me about a friend’s friend who was knocked over by a wave in the ocean and ended up paralyzed from the neck down and who would have to remain on life supports.  No hope for recovery.  His mind, however, was just fine and he made the informed decision to be taken off life supports.

I read or heard someplace that a woman died from inhaling some kind of harmful bacteria when she was turning her compost pile.

And right after we moved here and were still living in Hotel Hell, I was caught in a terrible traffic tie up and was very late to pick up younger daughter from a nature center where she was working as a counsellor.  I later found out that the traffic was stopped because of an accident:  a woman had been killed when a port-o-john fell off of the truck in front of her and crashed through her windshield.  

Think of all the worrying some of us do.  I bet that no matter how many things that woman might have worried about in her life, she never, ever considered the possibility of being killed by a port-o-john.  

And that is my point exactly.  The port-o-john was the bullet she never saw coming.

At last Thursday’s knit night, Sallyknit related what she considered, and we all agreed, to be the most bizarre news story from the week.  A man in Brazil was killed, in his bed, while he was asleep, by a cow that fell through his roof.  

(We might have giggled a little, but then said STOP THAT!  It’s only a little bit funny. No! It’s not funny at all.  It’s tragic.  But it IS a little …..when you say it out loud….No! Stop!)

But again, no matter what this poor man’s worries were, I’ll bet they didn’t include a cow crashing through his roof and crushing him. 

I promise my daughters and whoever  else has the apparent misfortune to talk with me that I will keep the woe, suffering and deaths to a minimum.

In the meantime, Serpentine, Shelly.  Serpentine!

(A big prize to the person who knows that reference.  Immediate family prohibited from entering.)

This Might Be Me....

It's Embarrassin' Bein' from Georgia

says Honey Boo Boo?

$1,000 REWARD!!!!!!

Not really.

But my Chacos, the shoes that I have worn since surgery on my left foot, the shoes that have prevented surgery on my right foot, that have just the perfect sponginess to support my foot, and that along with my Birkenstocks (stylish----c'est moi) have kept me comfortably shod all these years, they have

GONE MISSING !!!!!

Please, please come back...

Now logic is my middle name (not really---it's Louise), and logic tells me that shoes can't possibly disappear in one's own home. But I have looked everywhere (except where they are, obviously), and they are just flat-out missing. I grilled my recent houseguests: two daughters, four grandchildren, and I do mean GRILLED, until they almost r u n n  o f t, and they all denied having any involvement with the disappearance of my shoes.

Yes, I have other shoes.  Yes, I even have other Chacos, but these were my most recent purchase, and my favorite.

I may have to give up and go to the store for another pair, and then, I am sure, the missing shoes will show up.


***************

In other news, we all had a great time, in spite of the nearly constant rain.  It rained, sometimes ALL day, each and every day that they were all here. (It's raining now.) On Monday though, the rain held off  until later in the day, and my husband, daughters and grandchildren had a great time at Six Flags.  I, martyr that I am, stayed out of the heat and sun and off of the scary rides and made the aforementioned Ile Flottante. My husband is out of town every other week, so I rarely have guinea pigs diners I can experiment on cook for.  But in spite of being left behind, I had fun making dessert.

However, I need my grandchildren to answer for this affront:

WHY, oh WHY, are there goldfish left in this container? WHY didn't you eat them all?  Grandpa doesn't like them, so now it's left to me to finish them off.

Martyr, thy name is Knittergran.


UPDATE:  Chacos found!  Yay!

And Yesterday

I made Ile Flottante!

I had always thought that it would be difficult to make but it's not.  It's just three easy things combined into one for serving.

Delicious, if I do say so myself.

My First Clafoutis

Yummmmm

And Ah Hay-ulped

Yes, I did.

Today I finished my Janus shawl (from Araucania Lontue linen/cotton yarn), which was supposed to be easy, easy, easy.

The knitting part was.

The crocheted lace?  No so much.

Knitter/crocheter/master-crafter friend Lucille volunteered to crochet the 74" of lace after she tried to teach me how to do it.  It just didn't take and this shawl would never, ever be finished if she hadn't taken on the most difficult part of the project.  74 inches!!!  Of this:

I tried.  And even though it only uses two (maybe three) different crochet stitches, I just couldn't get my brain/hand coordination to work.  And this lace border MAKES the shawl.  So that's why I say I "helped." Lucille did the most work on it.

I did do this part though and it was relatively easy:

Just a bit of picot along the opposite edge.

I love this scarf/shawl and I owe you big time, Lucille!!!