Category Archives: knitting

Little girl goodness…

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I watch a friend’s daughter overnight every other Wednesday… and didn’t know how the dynamic would go at first, and went into it with the hopes it would all be just peachy. Her mom is a douche bag, and I’m determined to go full tilt girlie fabulous while she’s with us. I knew my own daughter would be a little jealous…

I have a dozen “dads” because my bio dad is  worthless. I look at the time I spent with the little sweetheart as doing my part. She’s adorable, and SO funny- but she needs a mommy for sure, and that’s my forte. We curl our hair and paint our nails… turn the music on and dance in the living room, it’s a full scale estrogen fest, complete with Miss Everything.

Sometimes we have a fashion show- and we have a sewing project we’re working on for Christmas. It’s just time spent with little girls, being a really great example and teaching them things so few women know anymore. I feel pretty passionately about it, because I love to knit, can, garden, sew… getting in touch with my Mormon roots, if you will. :) . I’m all about teaching the little girls in my life, and the boys too for that matter. My son knows how to sew, and some of the most amazing men I know, knit.

My grandmother taught me to crochet, and I taught myself how to knit. My Mama and my Aunt taught me to sew and we still love to sit and sew together. It’s when we really connect- and when we really talk about what matters.

So sitting with this tiny little girl who is on girly overload, I’m sure- is just what the doctor ordered. She’s adorable- and her Mom is really missing out… but if I have anything to say about it- she wont miss out on a thing in her little life.

She recites her words from a Veterans day presentation she had at school that day. In front of the whole school and the parents. 300-400 people… she smiles and stands up straight and rattles off a monologue about Francis Scott Key. So sweet and so brave… I was so proud I cried and she started laughing at me.

T- Don’t cry!

J- I am so proud of you, that’s so brave and you had so much to remember!

T- In one day!

More tears… this little darling will be one of the best women life can create. She may not have a mom, but she’s not lacking. She’s adored by her Dad & Uncle, her Grandparents and anyone else who comes in contact with her. She’s a spitfire. She’s hysterically funny… she actually recited her part at our family dinner and when someone suggested she rap it- she did. 10 adults in tears over this fierce little lady.

Tucking two little girls in bed with bedtime stores about Belinda the Ballerina and her big feet. Sweet mommy bliss with more to follow later. In love with my two days off to play with my little angel- and a borrowed angel too.

This is what we’re making for Christmas:

You can find the directions here.

Looks simple enough- and it will be nice busy work for them to cut all those circles out…

For as much as I complain about the cold, I do love the fall… because the cold does nothing but supply me with the perfect excuse to curl up like a kitten on the couch, surrounded by yarn, needles, fabric, thread, etc…

Best of all? Two giggling little girls cutting out flower petals…curled up on the couch next to me, side by side. Cozy domestic happiness. ♥

♥

Get it done, batgirl…

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This being the 5th year blogging, there are days I think I’ve run out of stuff to ramble on about and I am absolutely buried in canning… and I have 3 pear trees to pick today. Ugh…

I would rather be doing just about anything else… which is good, because I have to pick a tiny black dress to go with my nun habit, and I have work later…

Perhaps my Bucket List is in order? Or maybe just  a pause from my actual t0-do list to write one that is more in keeping with what I really want to be doing? At any rate, here it is.

1. I want to go to school. Any school. I miss it and I can see myself becoming a lifer if I end up permanently single. I’d like to actually pass algebra at some point. I’d love to learn a few more languages. I’d love to take a stained glass class. I’m a skill hoarder… I love learning something new and I love writing on paper with a freshly sharpened pencil :)

2. I want to fix everything with my son. It weighs on me every day and I miss him terribly.

3. I want to run a marathon. Weird huh? I’m happiest when I’m running regularly. The endorphins are no joke- and between the running and the knitting- I’m happily celibate. Sorta.

4. I want to have the nerve to push the envelope. I want to be brave enough to take a leap of faith purely to see if I really can have have everything I want. I want to kiss hope right on the lips.

5. I want to build my treehouse. I know this sounds ridiculous, but it’s been unfinished since we moved in and it drives me INSANE. I want a roof… so I have to learn how to do roofing. I want it to have a staircase, and even attempting stairs for the hot tub was the absolute WORST thing I’ve ever tried to make… so the stairs are posing a looming threat. I want it to have flower boxes and a door and honestly… I completely understand I sound like a lunatic. I always wanted one, and my kids weren’t that interested… so I’m determined to build it for myself. With my big old pile of wood from the Dirty Boat Thief.

6. I want to go everywhere. Being a young mother and raising two children means life at home. I want to see everything I haven’t seen and go places I never thought to consider. I could do without snow. I’m cool if I don’t see Antarctica. Ever. If you’ve seen one snowbank, you’ve seen them all.

7. I want to be happy, anywhere. My Bestie has the big house and the shiny new car and everything you could think would make life perfect, and it’s still just as hard. She works just as hard, it’s just as hard to juggle kids and responsibility and she still wants to be happier. Financially secure or struggling, I want to be happy anywhere that lands me. I want to always be able to see the silver lining.

8. I want to take my mom on vacation. Somewhere fun- somewhere out of both of our elements- just to show her how much I really love and appreciate her. She’s become my right hand, my wife- I don’t know what I’d do without her and I want to be able to show her at some point.

9. I want to go tank diving with Sharks… I know… it’s something not many people can understand but I’ve wanted to since I was a little girl. The tip of South Africa, mmmmm…. can’t wait. It makes my heart race just thinking about slipping into Shark filled water…

10. I want to be the friend people call when they need help, the daughter my mother can rely on, the mom my kids love and adore, and the love of someone’s life.

11. I want to finish my flower tattoos, have the balls to do all the other outlining stuff and really love each one more than the last. It’s an unexpected love of mine and I treasure them. They’re all so significant, even the purple orchid from lousy Nathan. It’s the one I see the most next to the cherries on my wrist… and it always makes me think of my dear friend, my Tattoo Diva. I have the best time hanging out with her and the story of Nathan and his fake tattoos is just one more funny part of our friendship. ♥ her. ♥ my tattoos. Always want more… mmmm needle therapy- the best money can buy.

12. I want to learn to sail. I can remember sailing with my stepdad as a little girl, but he never let me help. I watched some random movie the other night and realized I was ignoring the dialog and watching what he was doing with the sails.

13. I want to learn to fly a plane. For several reasons, some of them not so nice, but ultimately, I’m a little afraid of heights, and though I love to fly… I’d feel even better if I knew I could take over if need be. I like to be prepared.

14. I want to learn to Scuba dive. I love snorkeling… I could spend an entire day chumming pretty fish with crackers. I love it- so it’s natural I’d want to take it a step further. My dive-master friend gives me shit constantly about being a floater, lol… and I will absolutely make him eat his words at some point.

15. I want to get a family picture for my mother- who has never had one. I’m working on making this one happen just after Christmas, but this has been on the list for years. Hopefully my son will be in it too.

16. I want to have the money to pay people to keep my garden weed free. Even for just a year. I swear- that’s what I’d buy if I won the lottery… a weed free garden to enjoy. I missed my garden desperately this year but I just didn’t have the time. The thought of other people weeding it for a year? Holy… that’s right up there with Coach.

17. I want to throw half of everything I own, away, or give it away, or all of it. I hate the burden of possessions. I only need a few things to be happy. My kids, my family, my little dogs, my friends and my knitting. Dishes I could live without. Laundry? Ugh. I could happily survive with a few cashmere sweaters, a few black shirts, a few white shirts and a few great pairs of jeans…. and a few thousand dresses with pretty heels to match. It’s my own damn fault I’m drowning in clothing.

18. I want to blog. Always. Regardless of the pressure to write books, travel the world and be sinfully blissfully happy? I am always thankful for the 20 minutes a day I sit down and write. It’s sometimes the only time I sit down all day.

19. I want to abandon the cold. Permanently. I wouldn’t mind coming home to visit at Christmas to see the snow… but I really loathe winter. It’s pretty for a minute, and then it’s just an added hassle in my already chaotic life. Getting up an hour earlier to shovel, sucks balls. I want to plant gardenias around the entire perimeter of my house and wear as many of them in my hair every day as I can fit. I hate the cold. I want to garden year round.

20. I want to read a book a week. I’m not taking the time to read right now and I feel dull. I have too much to do to even list and it’s sunny, so I should be planting the rest of the garlic. I’ll kick myself if I don’t… but I’m not. I’m reading a book. I’m taking it easy for a change, curling up with little Tucker Max and I’m committing to at least crossing one of these things off the list at some point.

I could keep going but sheesh… this should keep me occupied while I’m not working and knitting.

Happy Monday- the first one I’ve had off in nearly a year. Cleaning, baking, and trick or treating later…

Close to the perfect day, Amen.

♥

Thankful Thursday

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Whiskey Wednesday claims another victim. Ugh. Miss Perfection, Mr. Bestie, SuperDad & Miss Fearless… Christ on the cross we know how to celebrate.

What are we celebrating?

Um.

Life? Not being in unhappy relationships? Paying the water bill? Sure… that works. Let’s celebrate all of that… with a few bruised apples… a few shots of Rumplemints… a little Tanqueray and a cozy cab ride home.

Sleeping in… tangled in dreams and sheets, with one leg exposed and frozen. Swimming in pillows and fighting to block out my damned Yorkie Tucker Max, who happens to be barking at me from the laundry room. Begging and pleading to fall back into the dream that’s haunted me all week.

Celibacy leaves me with one option for sex. Sleep more, and pray for sex dreams. So far so good… I’ve never been so blown away by a dream and I’m sleepy sweet and craving.

However… the fucking dog ruined it this morning and I rolled over on to my stomach, kicked the blankets off and grabbed my phone… to send an email to He-Who’s-Inspired-Me-To-Raise-My-Standards.

Grinning at the cloudy grey day and relishing the bike ride down town to pick up my car. In love with my quiet life. Enjoying the simplicity of my day and grateful for a day off.

It’s fashion-free day. I threw on a pair of my favorite sweats, a tank top and sweatshirt and headed out to face the day… only to have a bouquet of oriental lilies fall from the door when I opened it.

???

I love them, they’re my favorite. Casablanca lilies. They smell like heaven. No card. Hmph. I only like surprises if I know who’s intending to surprise me.

Flowers are always appreciated… but they always come with a certain intention. These are not friend flowers. These are “I like you” flowers.

Sweet. They smell amazing and I love surprises. Wow, flowers. <grin>

I turn Pandora on and tuck my phone in my bra. Music and an early morning bike ride, what a perfect start to a day off that is hardly going to be one. The leaves are changing. It’s cool and beautiful and you can smell wood smoke in the air. I love Fall. It makes me smile from the inside out. It’s knitting season, time to sew… and the best part?

HALLOWEEN!!! My favorite holiday, hands down…. and I’m a holiday junkie. My costume should be in the mail today. How exciting :)

I picked up the car and went directly to the store to get the grocery shopping done. Wandering in slowly, I go straight to the Starbucks in the front of the store. One Venti Salted Caramel Mocha… it’s like a liquid orgasm, seriously… run, don’t walk. Trade your soul for one if you have to, it’s that good.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and starts to play Lady Gaga’s “You and I”….as I’m thanking God for Starbucks and whoever thought to combine sea salt, caramel, chocolate AND coffee. Ooooh. Email. From him, complete with a song to confirm it.

“You taste like whiskey when you kiss me oh
I’d give anything again to be your baby doll
This time I’m not leaving without you”

OH Happy day… I’ve got mail… of my favorite varieTy. Which does nothing but drive my grocery bill through the roof. Ohhhh how I grocery shop when inspired… Lord have mercy. I’m making pumpkin roll, french onion soup, prosciutto and fontina wrapped grilled prawns. This man speaks my language and lights me up from the inside, at the same time. It’s a good thing he’s too far away to tempt with food because I’d be sewing new dresses and buying aprons at record speed. God bless the man who loves the domesticated princess, he shall know true happiness.

I get home and sink into a day of cleaning the house. Apparently I’m the only one that does and it’s beginning to get on my nerves. How does the whole shared housekeeping thing work with a roommate? I have to have it clean on my day off, I can’t stand dirty floors and the dishes are piling up in both sinks. Apparently I’m the only one who knows how to take out the trash, the bathroom needs to be cleaned…. and there’s dog hair on the sink. Gross. I don’t mind cleaning as much as I mind filth, though it’s the last thing I want to do on my day off every week. Time for everyone in the house to get a chore list, I’ve officially fucking had it.

Silky soft clean sheets and freshly shaven legs. New polish on my toenails and brand new squishy soft socks from my daughter. None of those things want to mix with dog hair and dirt. So I’m a little annoyed, but getting it done nonetheless. My mystery flowers are keeping me company in the kitchen and the pumpkin seeds are starting to smell amazing while they crackle and pop in the oven. Deeeelish.

I hear the mailman and run out to the mailbox. IT’S HERE!!!!!!!!!! My little white bunny dress. :)

Halloween is the one day a year you can absolutely get away with breaking out your skimpiest, sluttiest stuff in the closet. Better yet? Buy something even worse than last year. I found the best ears a year ago… and a dress last week, and it honestly looks like a size 5.

I am not a size 5. Nor have I ever been.

I have 36 DD boobs and this dress was sewn with the Itty Bitty Titty Nation in mind. It feels like a satin tourniquet.

My first inclination is to break out my little black book for a little gratuitous praise. This dress is giving me serious pause. I’m going to have to live a completely carb free life from here to Halloween… oh and there goes beer and steak too.

The things I sacrifice to be tramptastic.

I put it on again and thought my chest was going to cave in from the pressure, grabbed my sewing shears and cut a slit down the front…

Ah. Oxygen.

You can damn near read the washing instruction tag on my panties and I feel naked. This thing needs help. I cannot go out like this. Not without a fifth of Goose and a death wish.

Which is when the power man knocks on the door, and as I reach for the door knob I hear rrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip…. and my one inch slit has grown to more like 3… and he’s vacillating between white and red. He can’t say anything. He mumbles something about the meter and walks away and I look at my reflection in the door.

Holy Jesus, Mary & Joseph.

Bunnies were meant to be soft, sweet and fluffy… not half naked with panty line and boobs a-plenty.

Good Lord… it’s high time for 2 or 3 slips and some fake fur to glue on. This thing is straight up pornographic.

But hey….It is Halloween… Tis the season…

Kiss & Tell

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*Guest Blog, Thanks, Mr. Chef*

She walked in and I knew immediately that it was her. She had some sort of black strappy dress on and she was looking left and right while picking at her nails. I read enough to know that means she’s nervous.

I observe her like I’m hunting her, not wanting her to see me until I’ve had a moment to really watch. She’s fairly short, quite busty and she smiles at everyone who smiles at her. She has amazing bone structure. Her cheeks are flushed and sort of sparkly. Her lips are red. I’m enjoying her not being able to recognize me. She glances at me briefly, raising an eyebrow slightly while smiling appreciatively. I find that I’m particularly happy being hunted by this blond beauty in my own restaurant.

She’s looking like she’s about to bolt so I stand up and watch her turn, slowly. It’s like an explosion that hits you in the chest. When she smiles at you, she smiles into you. Her eyes are green and sparking at me flirtatiously. I have to return the smile because the smirk on her lips is contagious.

There’s something about Jenni. There’s something about the way she makes you feel that makes you want to know her. Sitting in a crowded restaurant and she’s the only woman I notice. Her laugh is intimate, reminiscent of something sexual and it changes my thought process. She’s classically beautiful. All the parts and pieces are pretty and they add up into a woman that’s more than easy on the eyes. Just when you think you’ve got her figured out with her red handbag, she opens her mouth and she’s smart and funny.

I’ve read her blog for so long that I watch for the signs that match my favorite posts. Does she bite her lip (yes). Does she fidget? (yes). Does she notice my freshly shaved head? (she’s sitting on her hands, I’d say yes). She swallows repeatedly when I ask her what she’s hungry for. I like this woman. She’s intense. She’s so sexy. I want to talk to her and I really want to kiss her but I’m determined to wait until she stops playing with her nails.

I’ve been waiting for this. I’ve watched and read about her foodie habit. She has a thing for the men of the kitchen and I intend to make the most of it where the others have failed her, I want to make her write about me.  The last of the tables are leaving and I can see she’s not sure what to think.

• Want to help me cook?

J- Right now?

• Yes

J- Ok.

I threw her an apron and she threw it back.

J- I brought mine.

I thought I was going to smooth talk her, I figured this had to be easy and I was fully armed with all of her hopes and hates………………… but she ties a sexy apron around her neck, smiles at me and turns her back to me with a wink.

J- Tie me?

Any man who thinks they’re going into anything with her with an upper hand are totally mistaken. This lady knows your moves before you make them. I move to tie the white lengths that are hanging at her sides and her perfume envelops me. She smells like the clean air after it rains, and you can only smell her perfume if you’re close to her. Something she knows if the smile on her face is any indication. The clover tattoo between her shoulders is begging to be kissed for good luck. I need a smoke. I hand her some garlic to peel and she rolls the onion back to me.

J- Making me cry on the first date?

I went for a smoke and when I walked back in she was singing along with the music and dancing while she peeled the garlic. She’s at home in my kitchen and its so hot I could sit and watch her but that’s creepy so I get to work. She makes me remember why I loved to cook in the first place and I’m thankful for my apron because shes precocious and having her in my kitchen is a rush. When it got to the point I had to pay attention I poured her a glass of red and sat her on a stool next to me so I could talk to her while I cooked her dinner. I’ll be damned if I’m going to be one more asshole to overcook her steak.

The dining room is dark except for our table which is lit enough that we can eat and talk through dinner. I untie her apron on her way out of the kitchen and she laughs. She brings out the aggressive bastard in me. I want to throw everything off the table and fuck her right there. Fuck dinner, I want to really feed her. I want to put more than words in her mouth and I’m a dick for admitting it. It doesn’t make it any less true and I watch her take her first bite like she’s the worst critic to cross my career. Praying to the food gods she loves it and knowing I’ll read about how bad it was tomorrow if she doesn’t…… but she smiles and says it’s amazing.

She talks about things like hating the snow and loving her kids. She’s funny even talking about painful things. She isn’t the slightest bit damaged by the guys who have tried so hard to use up all the sweetness she brings. She doesn’t like to talk about her blog. She gets quiet and I watch her choose her words carefully. I don’t tell her I was a journalism major in college before I started cooking.

J- It scares all the right people and tempts all the wrong ones.

Fuck, does that make me one of the wrong guys? Maybe so but I’m going to enjoy my date with her either way and her company is hard to relinquish. We drink two bottles of wine laughing about everything from the Octomom to global warming. She’s disarming and she has a look that would give a dead man goosebumps.

I watch her yawn a dozen times before I do the respectful thing and ask if she’s ready to go. She is. Damn. She moves to clear the dishes and I stop her. Where did this woman come from? I walk her to her van and she smiles again.

J- Thanks for dinner, it was absolutely delicious.

I don’t wait. I move in and kiss her. I’m seeing green lights and hoping I’m right. I press her up against the cold metal of her door and hear her moan in my mouth. Feeling her mouth open under mine is the equivalent of the dessert I’ve been wanting since she walked in the door. Kissing her requires three languages to describe. I can see the potential for things getting out of control in a second when she pulls away and smiles.

J- Whoa… I’m actually not dating anymore and I promised myself I’d be single until my sweater is finished. If you want to wait I’d love to see you again but I need to get home.

• Yeah. I’d like that. How much longer until you finish it?

J- Six months or so? Oh…. would you want to guest blog for me? It’s a really rough week and I’ve decided to ask my favorite people to help out. You just made the best steak I’ve had since I saw my Daddy last. Can you write at all?

• I can spell even! Can I kiss and tell?

J- I hope so, the last guy I dated couldn’t kiss his way out of a wet paper bag, there aren’t words to thank you for that kiss goodnight.

• Yes, I’ll do it.

I’ve already broken my promise because I was supposed to keep it under a thousand words, but those lips, that tongue and her laugh make keeping it short and sweet impossible.

Shame on any of you fuckers who would even think about giving her less than she deserves…. which is everything.

Get in line behind my knitting……………..some women require you to climb out of your box to access theirs and my mama didn’t raise no fool.

I’m climbing.

Protected

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I’m learning more and more that love and friendship must always go hand in hand.

I consistently open myself up to being hurt again, sure, but you can’t hit a home run if you don’t step up to the plate. It’s not easy being single. In fact I fucking hate it.

I wasn’t meant for this job. I loathe dating…. and I’m a supergirlfriend.

I have simple needs and I’m not demanding.

There are a few things I need to be happy. A dress. Heels. Perfume… and my apron.

I need you to inspire me to be myself: Betty Nympho Crocker.

She’s an awesome girl to hang out with.

When I’m happy and feel adored, I’m like domesticated crack. Inspired to curl my hair, get dolled up… and bake him into oblivion. I knit him hats. I sew his buttons back on. I exhaust him. I love to iron his shirts. I like to make his favorite things for dinner. I completely admit to my natural inclination, which is to spoil the man who loves me.

I’m domesticated… and being single conflicts with that.

I’ve been craving a boyfriend more than I’ve been paying attention to dating people who liked me. Realistically, people that like you can’t humiliate you publicly. They don’t sleep around. They come from a place of LIKING who you are, first.

Enough that they wouldn’t be a douche bag to you, no matter what- because you just don’t treat your friends that way.

My phone rang in the middle of the night last night- 2:10 in the morning… two of my guy friends are hanging out together, getting shitty drunk….

and talking about me. Great.

Mr. Heathen and Mr. Bestie are a one-way ticket to a helluva fun night, followed by a brain crushing hangover. These boys know how to party… and they’re both great friends to me.

H & B- We’ve decided no more dudes for you until they walk the plank!

J- I completely agree… and I’ll kill you both if you’re discussing me- geez- keep it G rated.

H & B- Ha ha ha… kinda X, but really just because we love you  & think you’re the coolest chick in this town. The next guy has to be approved by us.

Oh Lord.

I may as well sew my vagina shut, right now.

Because they mean it. They love me and holy moly- it would take a pretty outstanding & amazing guy to make it through these two.

Precisely what I’d like… bless the poor guy’s heart, he’s in for an uphill battle… which wont bother him in the slightest if he ever stands a chance of getting approval from my dude friends.

Only one person comes to mind and he lives a few thousand miles away.

… … … … …

Perhaps I should do away with the sweater and start knitting myself a rainbow of chastity belts.