Taking it all

The credit and the blame, that is.

Blame: Through actions completely my own I find that the next 4 weeks are going to be frenetic. It's time to pack and move again, followed by jury duty, State Boards, and the High Holidays.

Blame: I have, again, miscalculated the food situation, and overbooked my Tasks list. My genetics apparently include some deep set hoarding instinct. At the end of every assignment I vow to change my grocery habits, and -here we are again.

TAO and I decided to wait until we were ready for condo living to move, so that's off for now. We did have the realtor look at our house and we're going to work our way down the list, so that when the time comes, the house is ready. Guess I should stop stashing for my retirement and knit it now, the retirement place will be too small. It did feel good to hash out the goals and agree on a mutual direction. The past year has been stressful for us both, to the point where we both were eyeing the liquor cabinet thoughtfully. I have valid concerns that TAOs job is going to give him a stroke, and while I'd like to whisk him away from it Today, which could be done, that choice would delay other goals. Only 194 days to vacation.

Taking good wife credit: We had TAOs birthday bash last weekend, complete with deep fried turkies, preseason football, and fireworks. (Perfect man party). I asked several times what he wanted for his birthday "Nothing". Okay honey, consider the expense of the party your gift. "Okay". He calls this week, "you got a new holder for your ipod in the mail." "No, that's for your ipod." 20 minutes later - "send it back, it doesn't fit." "Hmmn, guess it must be for your new Birthday Ipod that is coming ON your birthday" "Gee, really, for me?!?" Nothing, my arse, give me a break buddy. I did notice when you said your battery wouldn't hold a charge anymore. Last year I got him the Nike+ workout system, and he built an Avatar on the site that is so cute, I sometimes log in just to see what it's up to. But his ipod is on it's death throes.

Taking good girl credit: I've lost 6 lbs and kept it off for 2 weeks. I don't count a weight until it's been held 2 weeks. I'm especially proud of that because I painted myself into a corner stresswise and could easily have gone the other direction weightwise. Bought new workout pants as a reward.

Knitting credit: I reknit both balls of the ripped sleeve for the FLS. Much happier with it.

I have also been fiddling with this over the last few months: I dyed the yarn for these socks in 07, knit up a pair for TAO, mailed home. Realised this year that he doesn't wear them due to fit issues. Ripped out socks, reknit, could not get 2 that matched/fit for the life of me. Reknit the PAIR 5 times now. Yes, Five. Yes, Pair. Almost done with the pair this time, and if they don't fit, expect the rotary cutter to figure prominently in the next post about them. It would help if the model were closer.

Gotta go study/pack/clean. Don't forget to balance your blame with taking credit this week.

Hopes - crushed and wildly fulfilled

We have an apple tree, two pear trees, and a cherry tree. We rarely get any cherries because of the Grosbeaks, and Bond the Cairn terror terrier eats the apples off the lower branches. He also wishes he could leap as high as the pears, but has to settle for windfall.

I drove home for the weekend - mental health being worth the cost of gas. Of course, after months on living in a hotel, I want to cook in my kitchen. So I called TAO, had him preheat the oven, and hit the kitchen with a cooler of semiprepped food to build enchiladas. TAO unloaded the car to faciliate his enchilada nirvana. I build the tray, pop it in the oven, and go in search of the basket that contains the non chilled items.

Behold! Next to the basket I find Bond, tail going about 4000 rpms. It was the culmination of all his doggie fantasies. The item needed for the dessert was a carefully wrapped, carefully carried, perfectly ripened Pear. He had delicately lifted it from it's wrapping by the stem and was daintly eating it.

I snatched it up off the new carpet appalled, but couldn't really yell at him...after all pears are fair game in this house, we even slingshot them for him to chase when they're hard and small, and the basket was down on the floor. He was so happy for a brief moment...a pear...full sized, soft, sweet, perfect.

There was only half left so we ended up cutting it into halves and giving each dog a piece. My beautifully envisioned dessert morphed into something else with laughter as a spice, and Bond has his manhood name - PearSlayer.

214 days to vacation!