The colors are a bit off from the true- it's really hard to take a picture of that red for some reason. Must be haunted. MATER IS WAITING FOR YOU!

 
 
 
 

I crocheted myself a tomato- turns out he's not psychotic at all. I tried. I made him one giant-crazy eye. Then I thought for sure he needed two giant-crazy eyes, but when I put them on they weren't right at all. One giant crazy eye was slightly larger than other giant-crazy eye, they didn't look right with or without eyelids . . . so in the end my little tomato got two cute little embroidered eyes- like monkey eyes. (If you can imagine.) That wasn't enough so he also got a cute little button nose. What a cute little innocent tomato- like the tomato next door. It's too dark to take a picture.

I also finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows today. Very dramatic. I also went to Goodwill. I bought three dresses two skirts and six dog toys for about $35.00. What a deal.

Fruit or vegetable?

Botanically, a tomato is the ovary, together with its seeds, of a flowering plant: therefore it is a fruit or, more precisely, a berry. However, the tomato is not as sweet as those foodstuffs usually called fruits and, from a culinary standpoint, it is typically served as part of a salad or main course of a meal, as are vegetables, rather than at dessert in the case of most fruits. As noted above, the term vegetable has no botanical meaning and is purely a culinary term. Originally the controversy was that tomatoes are treated as a fruit in home canning practices. Tomatoes are acidic enough to be processed in a water bath rather than a pressure cooker as "vegetables" require.

This argument has had legal implications in the United States. In 1887, U.S. tariff laws that imposed a duty on vegetables but not on fruits caused the tomato's status to become a matter of legal importance. The U.S. Supreme Court settled the controversy on May 10, 1893 by declaring that the tomato is a vegetable, based on the popular definition that classifies vegetables by use, that they are generally served with dinner and not dessert (Nix v. Hedden (149 U.S. 304)).[31] The holding of the case applies only to the interpretation of the Tariff Act of March 3, 1883, and the court did not purport to reclassify the tomato for botanical or other purposes other than for paying a tax under a tariff act.

Tomatoes have been designated the state vegetable of New Jersey. Arkansas took both sides by declaring the "South Arkansas Vine Ripe Pink Tomato" to be both the state fruit and the state vegetable in the same law, citing both its culinary and botanical classifications. In 2006, the Ohio House of Representatives passed a law that would have declared the tomato to be the official state fruit, but the bill died when the Ohio Senate failed to act on it. However, in April 2009 a new form of the bill passed, making the tomato the official fruit of the state of Ohio. Tomato juice has been the official beverage of Ohio since 1965. A.W. Livingston, of Reynoldsburg, Ohio, played a large part in popularizing the tomato in the late 1800s.

Due to the scientific definition of a fruit, the tomato remains a fruit when not dealing with US tariffs. Nor is it the only culinary vegetable that is a botanical fruit: eggplants, cucumbers, and squashes of all kinds (such as zucchini and pumpkins) share the same ambiguity.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tomato

I learned today: Potatoes and tomatoes are related- also related to tobacco and eggplants and belladonna (deadly nightshade) I just like to say DEADLY NIGHTSHADE!

I heard long ago that Europeans used to grow tomatoes for decorative plants, but thought the fruit was poisonous- well I see why now- what with the DEADLY NIGHTSHADE!
There is a resemblance.

I learned something else too- but I've already forgotten what it was. Must be old age or DEADLY NIGHTSHADE!

It seems I have some unusual fascination with tomatoes, but its not new- I'm sure I've written at least one other lengthy blog about tomatoes- (DEADLY NIGHTSHADE)

I'm still really excited about my plants- hope they live all summer! *DEADLY NIGHTSHADE

Wish I had a garden.


deadly nightshade!

Jesus even loves psychotic tomatoes

I didn't make this, but I want to make one now . . .

My students, being my ever present news source told me to be careful about swine flu-Well, acually they said "Sween flu" to which I negotiated out the understanding of Swine- you man like a pig? Pork? Yeah- SWINE like FINE- ok, I'll watch out for pigs, and recently returning Mexicans- One student said her mother called her to see if she was ok from the tornado- (we had a tornado?) and the swine flu--

In other news- maybe Jesus did die on a Wednesday- I just read an article all about how the pope and the Pharisees conspired against us to mislead us into Sunday worship and a "good" Friday. Don't worry the author assures us we will still go to heaven even if we are wrong.

http://ad2004.com/prophecytruths/Articles/Prophecy/3days3nights.html

Uh- I've just been informed that blogging is so out of fashion and I should be "twittering" pshaw!

I noticed that my tomato blossoms closed up last night- which made me wonder if tomatoes were night shades, which made it look it up, which lead me to this poster . . . I don't think I agree.

But they are night shades.

my tomato plants have blossoms-I find that strangely exciting

I just finished making a baby blanket- for no baby in particular

I made a six month resolution to stop buying yarn- one month down

I'm reading Harry Potter 6- but I'm having a hard time remembering 5- geeze how long ago was that?

my mouth wants something salty, but my stomach couldn't care less

it's really hard to teach a class of five students- we just rattle around in our tomb of a classroom

speaking of tombs- the fact that the preacher mispronounced sepulcher on Easter Sunday still makes me smile- not so much that he mispronounced, but how he made it sound- saPLECKer it wasn't an accident- he meant to say it that way. For all I know that's how it's pronounced in the original Latin- but the non-standard-ness of it . . . well :)

he also said Jesus must have died on Wednesday- that's counter-culture and new to me, but some other people seemed to think it was A-okay- something about the Passover sabbath being special or different etc. I'm not sure I buy it. maybe I'll look into that.

http://theliterarylink.com/mangostreet.html

I had my students do an assignment based on this free style poem. They did awesome jobs. It made me want to write one using the same criteria that I gave them. They were supposed to use this writing as model, and write about their names, how they got them, what they mean, how they feel about them, similes, metaphors and stories. Wow. I was impressed. I wish I had more time to think about it and write one now- alas, it is bed time.

I will however post about the bluebonnets which I wrote about over the weekend and didn't publish.

Pk and I went to take pictures of/with the blue bonnets a few weeks ago. Sadly, the blue bonnets were kind of anorexic looking at that time, while now they are looking rather robust. In years past, however, the blue bonnets have been known to curl up and die after a month- so we felt we had to act fast. They had started appearing two weeks before we went, we didn’t want to miss out on the event. We were pre-emptive.

We drove around looking for the best blue bonnets. We were sorely disappointed at the lack of blue bonnets at the Cedar Hill State Park. Although, since we were there already, we had a little look-see around. There’s an old farm on the park property. I guess it’s there to show all the city-folks how farms look . . . anyway- there are several barns, sheds, store houses- and other farmish architecture. What do I know- I never lived on an actual farm. I did briefly live with my grandparents in a semi-farm-like environment.

We read the sign about the barn, we went in the barn. The barn had been built during WWII and was constructed out of some older structures, a log cabin and an old one room school house. The sign asked if we could find the older structures within the larger structure- yeah sure, not that hard. The school house had a door at the front and a window on each side. The door was locked. The window on my side was closed but not locked. I decided to open it and peek inside.

Inside it was dark, very dark, even though the window on the other side was open. It was creepy dark. Being that it was so dark, and that I am so nosy, I stuck my head in the window to see more darkness. That’s when I heard it. It was a – well- defiantly a snort. A snort from something with a rather large nose. It didn’t register at first- I don’t know, maybe I thought PK did it- not that her nose is especially big, but when you’re all into the adventure of dark-school-house-barns of WWII . . . some things just slip by I guess. To punctuate the situation, IT snorted again. I got it that time.

SOMETHING was in the school/barn! I snapped my head out of there, closed the window and bolted it. I didn’t squeal until I heard IT shuffle around in there. How fast can Shannon get out of a state park barn? Dang fast!

PK and I discussed the possibilities of what IT might have been. A cow? It was a barn- but also a state park- would the state really leave an animal in the barn without any warning? The other window was open, maybe a wild animal got in there, maybe a crazy person was living in the barn/school! Strangely enough, it didn’t bother us much once we were out of the barn, except I refused to walk through the barn again on our way out.

As for the blue bonnets, we found some acceptable ones on private property a little farther down the road, just across the road from the pet cemetery. While we were in the area we stopped by to see who was at the cemetery. We saw But-But, Poopie Baby and Dumper. Some people name their animals very literally.

 

Just to be safe.

I heard Abraham Lincoln was a depressed racist who wanted to send all the former slaves back to Africa.

Just saying . . . I prefer summer storms to Lincoln and outhouses. Spring storms are also good.

The blue bonnets are lovely now. More on that later.

In class last week we read this poem,
http://www.internal.org/view_poem.phtml?poemID=109
“Out- out-” by Robert Frost.

First I asked, “What is the story about?”
They said, “We don’t understand.”
I said, “Look at the first line, where is the setting?”
They said, “We don’t know what it means.”
I said, “Look at it, it says, “The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard.” Where are they?"
They said, “What’s a buzz saw?”
This is where it started getting out of hand.
Me: "It’s a motorized saw."
Student 1 : "I don’t know what it is."
Me: "It’s a saw that has a motor, it runs on gas so you can work faster.”
Student 1: "No, I don’t know."
Me: “A chain saw, a motor saw, it makes a sound like “Buzzz!” Texas Chain Saw Massacre?” (Insert miming a chainsaw action)
Student 1: “No.”
Me: “Okay never mind, it’s a saw with a motor, that’s all.
Student 1 talks to Student 2.
Student 3: “I don’t understand, what is a saw?”
Me: (thinking) Déjà vu!
Me: “It’s a tool you use to cut down trees."
Student 3: “What is ‘cut down trees’?”
Me: (thinking) What have I been doing all semester? Do I actually teach English?
Me: “Trees are made out of wood, when you want to use the wood you have to kill the tree and ‘cut it down.” It falls down, then you cut it into pieces to use it.”
Student 1: “I got it!”
Me: “What?”
Student 1: “Buzz saw, chain saw, Texas Chain Saw Massacre!”
Me: “Okay, good.”
Insert translation of “Texas Chain Saw Massacre” into French, where it sounds much less gory.
Student 3: “Oh! It is logical, it makes that sound, so it has that name.”
Student 1: “It isn’t logical! You don’t name things for the way they sound . . .”
I left the room, the conversation was making me thirsty.
I came back and said, “Okay, does everyone know what a ‘buzz saw is now?”
Me: “Good, so what does ‘snarled’ mean?”
Blank looks- I should try a new question.
Me: “Animals make this sound, what kind of animal do you think can make a sound similar to a saw?”
Student 1: “A bird?”
Me: “No.”
Student 2 “A cow?”
Me: “No.”
Student 3: “A car?”
Me: “An Animal!”
Student 4: “Oh! I know! It is the sound a spider makes!”
I’ve lost patience already, and this answer . . . well . . .
Me: “The sound a SPIDER makes?! What sounds do spiders make?”
My imagination is already running wild with thoughts of giant screaming, snarling Venezuelan fighting- jungle spiders . . . I don’t even know if Venezuela has a jungle . . .
Student 4: “Oh! No! I mean a snake!”
Me: “Uh- no. I’ll just tell you. A dog or a wild animal like a bear or monkey when it is angry and it shows it’s teeth, like a growl. So you see, in the first line he is saying that the saw sounds angry like an animal when it cuts the wood.” *poorly worded sentence . . . now I'm thinking about an animal cutting wood . . . no, I mean- While it is cutting wood, the saw sounds like an angry animal. HA!*
Students: “oh, yeah …”

The first line took so much time an energy I wasn’t sure I wanted to go on.

I've been reading my car manual. I know, nobody actually reads car manuals, uh- I guess I'm nobody.

It's mildly entertaining. At first I was convinced that it was just crazy repetitive because they don't want to get sued- but that doesn't jive with the other quality it has of being pretty hard to understand. The writing is squirlly- like it should be clear to understand how to "manually unlock the driver's side door" since I've done that task many times on other cars, but it seemed really complicated when I read it in the manual. Like, "Whoa- I don't know if I can do THAT!"

I've sometimes wondered if manuals are written by people who are so unhappy with their lives that they have decided to torture the rest of us with poorly worded instructions. That, however, I do not believe to be the case for this Toyota manual. I now believe that it was written by people struggling to master the English language. It looks pretty good most of the time, then I come across a sentence like this: "When returning the seatback upright, be careful not to make yourself hit by the seatback which will bound with considerable spring force."

I will now never be able to say "Well, Toyota didn't warn me that I could make myself hit by the bounding seatback if I didn't use care!" No- they have warned me, and now I must heed that warning.

Another thing about my car- I have a remote door unlock- The actual remote also works as the ignition key. There are however regular key holes on the doors of the car. Right? I mean, all cars have key holes, or do they? I realized only yesterday that I didn't actually have a key for the key hole. Wait a minute- I do have a key hole don't I? I looked out my apartment window- Hmpht- I don't see one on the passenger side door- odd. I can't take the suspense, I had to go outside and check it out.

In fact there is no key hole on the passenger's side door- there is not key hole on the hatch door- but there is a key hole on the driver's side door. That means there must be a key. Turns out there is a 'secret' key on the remote that only opens the driver's side door- because as it turns out, that's the only door with a key hole.

I better keep reading the manual.

SOCKTOPUS!!

I just looked at some of my old blogs- older, a few weeks ago blogs.
Update: I finished the elf, I finished the dragon, I finished the owl, last night I finished some tiny safety cones, which like all other above mentioned things, have no real purpose aside from being cute.
I have one leg left on the the 'socktopus' (octopus wearing socks.) What? I didn't make it up, I'm just following the pattern. It's wearing tube socks, ever so cute- really.
Next, on to the doxie I started some time ago, and fix the scarves that aren't quite right. I have other plans and projects too- but one day and project at a time seems to be working for me right now.
Pictures of many projects and things to follow . . . eventually.

I gotta new car . . . yeah me!

The other morning I had a dream about an old friend; a friend I haven’t seen in many years, since college. With so many years between us, I wonder that I still call him friend, but he is. Maybe he is like what Anne of Green Gables called a “bosom friend.”

In my dream we talked of the things we used to talk about, life and love and God and how to build an outhouse. We talked about the past and the future, about sin and redemption and summer storms that break before you expect them to. We talked about Jesus and Abraham Lincoln and the Great State of Texas. After we had talked about rivers and forests and other wonders we’ve seen we talked about ourselves.

I pointed out the grey hairs at his temples and the white hairs in my part. We talked about work and family and loss and blessings.

When I woke up I was happy to have spent the morning with an old friend.

I used to have dreams of meaning more often. This was a dream of meaning. I don’t know yet what it means- that he has experienced blessings or needs prayer, one is not exclusive of the other. That he is thinking of me, maybe, but I have been thinking of him this week. It’s not for me to know the meaning really, just to enjoy the time and remember him to the Father.

I'm reading a book called Jesus wants to save the Christians I kind of like it. I've not read any of the author's other books. I haven't finished it, but I looked it up on Amazon to see what kind of reviews it was getting, pretty mixed it looks.

Some people say it fails to be 'hip.' Hmpht- I'm so out of the 'hippness' loop. Other people complained that it read like a blog. duh. You can tell that just by flipping through the pages. Besides, what's wrong with blogs? They complain that the style is difficult to read- but it seems styled so that it's especially easy to read. Short sentences and paragraphs- they give you time to think about what was just said.

Some people said it was Anti-American Hippy Liberation Theology.

I've always been interested in Liberation Theology. I mean in a very surface way- I haven't really studied it. They didn't encourage it in Bible school- too fringe I guess.

I started looking at other reviews the people who were complaining made. I wanted to see if they were complainers all the time or what.\

I found this quote about a book called Shack.

"At one point, after Mack has met God, he realizes that all of his seminary training was insufficient in preparing him for such a meeting. Well, let's hope not! Mack must not have done his homework before choosing a seminary."

Who does this joker think he is? I suppose he did his homework and chose the 'right' seminary. I suppose that when he stands face to face with God Almighty, Creator of Life and the Universe, he's gonna be all like, "sup dawg?" \

Most people don't come out of seminary thinking they know everything there is to know about God, they come out wondering how they could possibly be so stupid and forgiven at the same time. At least that's what they wonder if they learned anything at seminary.

I saw a notice at school the other day that was asking if anyone wanted to "crochet blankets for unborn babies." Why would an unborn baby need a blanket? It's all warm on the inside there.

I just got asked be friends with some one from high school. I looked at the name and said, "I don't know that person" I looked at the picture and said, "I don't know that person" I saw that we had one friend in common and said, "Oh- HIM! HIM!? The smelly one from high school? The goofy one who had a hard time making a sentence? The one who wanted to sit next to me on all the club trips? I felt both pity and repulsion. Well, yes, him.

Good on him- he's married and saving lives as a paramedic now. Wow. I never would have guessed. I'm still not sure I want to be friends with him though. That's probably wrong.

I've gotten a jury summons- blah.

I was taking a "psychic test" online last night as I waited for my hot chocolate to cool down enough to drink. I took 4 tests. On each test I had to choose 1 out of 5 cards that was going to come up next. There were 10 tries. Every time I got 1 out of 10 correct. What's the chances of that? Maybe pretty high I've never understood probability or statistics. This morning the web page was still up so I tried it one more time. I got 0 of 10. The comment after wards was "You are incredibly psychic to get every single one wrong! Are you channeling negative energy?" Stupid fake internet psychics- I'll show them negative energy . . .

I'm so looking forward to spring break- another week and a half to go. I need a week to lay around and get bored. I need a week to clean my apartment, to watch tv, to finish some of my many projects, to wander around in the spring air aimlessly.

Yesterday one of the lower level students asked me, "Why is the post office?" I looked at her. She looked at me. I waited for her to finish the sentence, she waited for me to start one. Then she said, "Where is the post office?" Well, that was a much easier question to answer. Why is the post office? to be sure, it is hard to say.

Often in grammar class my students try to convince me that the wrong answer is right, and the right answer is wrong. Yesterday it was This sentence, "We were working on our assignment for three hours when a girl ran in and told us there was a fire." What's wrong? Well, according to most native speakers nothing. I mean, I would say this sentence and think nothing of it. According to TOFEL and standard American (formal) grammar, it's wrong. Well, la-tee-da.

My students tried to convince me that it was "there was a fire." Shouldn't it say "there is a fire?" I said no. In reported speech everything is in past tense. Well, there are a few exceptions, but let's just say . . . no. I told them it was "We were working on our assignments for three hours when . .. " part. It needs to be past perfect progressive because we are talking about two past times,(past perfect) one of the activities occurred over an amount of time (progressive.) Let me tell you, it's a good thing I have to teacher's edition.

I *should* be reading for class and planning and preparing and grading.
*instead* I'm looking at toy patterns and watching old tv shows. (also knitting an owl as I watch tv) I never did finish that stupid elf. She's 98% done. I've got to sew her feet on, give her knees and some hair ribbons. The dragon . . . well, I got all distracted by a knitted owl . . . it's a small simple pattern- that dang elf is all involved- the good thing about that pattern is that I have to "finish" as I go along. I have to complete the head before I can do the body. Not like most patterns where all parts are separate and I can make all the pieces and have it 75% done- then as is normal for me, not actually put it all together for another 3-8 months.

I was going to talk to a leasing office today at a new apartment complex. But they closed at 5:30. I've always thought that was one of most annoying things about customer oriented businesses. When do they think people who have jobs have time to come talk to them? That's so dumb- why aren't they open from like 12-8 on some days?

Uhhh ... so ... much... work .... must ... avoid .....

Why are there so many dang cute things that I could make out of yarn (and other materials?!) Honestly can my addiction be helped? SO MANY CUTE THINGS!

Some people say the things I make aren't cute, they say my things are scary and disturbing- of course THOSE people wouldn't know cute if it slapped them upside the head with a dead fish.

I have a a book shelf full of patterns, I have a three ring binder full of patterns I bought online. I have boxes and bags and and baskets full of yarn and material and thread and paint and ever so much more.

Let's face it I'm meant to make things. It's my destiny.

Here's one of my current projects- when I finish her I'd like to then finish my unicorn, my dragon, my dachshund and them maybe my mermaid- I've got other things too . . . bother.

Oh dear- it’s been ever so long . . . I’d like to blame it on acrylic nails. However, that has only been my excuse for the past three weeks. Before that- well just laziness for the most part.

I made a quasi-resolution to write more blogs- MORE BLOGS!

Buzz is looking at me like, “Really? Nobody cares anymore.” I don’t care what the smart alec wiener dog thinks. He’s not my boss!

Yesterday in class some students were describing stupid inventions. One invention that they were describing was a hat that attached a roll of toilet paper to the wearer’s head so that she could blow her nose any time, any place- no worries of running out of tissue or having to rummage around in her bag for a packet. One suggestion to modify the invention was to make it smaller for children, and put picture of popular characters on the TP “like teddy bears and poo.” The other teacher looked at me and said, “I hope he means Pooh, as in Winnie, The.” Sometimes it’s hard to keep the mirth on the inside.
The question arises on account of the student was Korean, and Koreans as well as Japanese seem to have an unusual affinity for not only poo- but also for pee.

I used my uber-limited Farsi skills today to the great delight of one of my students. Words I remember in Farsi: “Hal-le shoma chetoray?” -How are you? “torshee” a sour condiment- “asb”- horse “burro”- go “yazda”- eleven. Wow, my vocabulary is astonishingly random.

My class is reading The Scarlet Letter- which is hard for American students- it’s like torture for international students. At one part a character “set forth an ejaculation of surprise.” I asked my students if they had any vocab questions. Of course, the earnest question arose in my classroom, “What is ejaculation?” asked the little angle faced Taiwanese girl. A few other students snickered. I said, “Well, in this context it means someone said something suddenly and unexpectedly.” One of the snickering students giggled. I was forced to admit it in fact had another meaning- that of a man reaching climax during sexual intercourse. Ok-so we got through that- until a pregnant Russian woman said, “Wait, what is ejaculation again?” I said, “It’s how you got pregnant.”

Well- I wouldn't carry it around, but I thought it might be a pretty funny thing to have on a thong for example.

I read Twilight this weekend. I had been told it was good- then the movie was getting such hype- and it was on sale for half price- I just decided to read it.

It was a pretty good story- I can see how it appeals to high school freshman all over the country. There was a sneak preview of the next book at the end. It looked good too, but when I read the amazon summary I decided I probably won't read it. It seems the series goes down hill after the first one.

I am also currently reading, The Know it All, Anne of the Island, and The Canterbury Tales.
Although, I seem to have misplaced The Know it All for the moment. I'm sure it will turn up eventually. I hope so, I was only half way through.

I'm disgruntled today.

Small things are bringing me down . . . poohy.

I've been sick for about a week. Sickness is a drag. I don't understand how people go around being sick all the time. How are they not just depressed out of their gourds? Allergies- sinus drainage, cough, tight chest, sore throat, stomach upset, weird voice . . . tired from the medicine. Same as last year, but not as bad- yet.

Nothing is especially appetizing- I'm supposed to avoid dairy and fatty food, they make the mucus worse. What should I eat? Soup? AGAIN!?

My mother would call a pity party for me at this point- anyone? anyone?

Tonight, after nine months, my brainiac dog has 'discovered' there is a turtle in the apartment. He is pretty excited about it- he is also convinced that it should be in the kitchen. He has taken a new interest in the kitchen sink- which he usually avoids like the plague- as he's experienced the dreaded 'bath' there.

(He knows 'bath' is a bad word as much as he knows 'outside' is a good word.)

He has run back and forth between the living room and the kitchen about 100 times in the last hour since the discovery. In between trips he stares at the tank longingly and whines- alternatively he stares at the kitchen sink and whines.

I guess he thinks the turtle should be in the sink because the tank is against the kitchen/living room wall. Also he saw me emptying the feeding tank water into the sink.

At least there is some reasoning in that tiny little brain.

"It’s nominating some characteristics; it is hard to become the wrinkle, hard to thrust an insect and easy to dye."

seriously, my head is about to explode- I've been reading exceptionally written research papers- some good- some with good ideas, but the sentences . . . KABOOM!

I told my students today about being president-elect, a lame duck and my limited understanding of how the electoral college works . . . seriously short discussion.

 

 
When students get a hold of your camera . . .
 
Christmas is coming to Texas!

 THE HAND!

 
remember the beauty of eggs
 
Buzz in the sun
 
heirloom pumpkins, fall in the air
 

Mini cupcakes (vegan)

Mini-me

Chili- may not look good, tasted great!

So, Alan Dart wrote back. I was rather surprised. He told me I didn't read the pattern notes correctly. Hmmm- so it is. Well, he is English, it's so hard to understand the English- they are so . . . English! Why can't they just write plain American? Can you spell ethnocentric? I'm not really- everyone is beatuiful, in his own way. Even those of us who don't know how to knit hands.

He was really nice about telling me how to read the patten though- he said go ahead and make Halloween hands for everyone. I haven't finished a hand yet, but I did get past that first row of sorrows.

Fingers and pictures to come.

I just wrote an email to Alan Dart, my a for mentioned favorite knitting pattern maker.

http://www.alandart.co.uk/pages/products

Dear Mr. Dart,

I love the hands on your human(ish) toys, but I've tried and tried and cannot make the hands. I finish the thumbs, but when I do the next row
"inc for fingers- K2, inc 1, (K1, inc 1)twice, K3, inc 1 turn and work these 15 sts only." I find no matter what I do, I only have 11 stitches when it's time to turn.

Is this a misprint or do I just fail at making hands? Are there any videos online that show how to do this technique? Do you have any alternative instructions for hands (as opposed to the instructions for Little Lorelei and Barnacle Bill?)

I'm so sad I can't make hands- they are surely the best bit of your human type dolls. If I could knit hands I would knit tiny disembodied hands for all my friends- and they would say that was creepy, and I would agree, but be ever so happy that it was possible.

Thank you,
Shannon

So, I have a Facebook page. (I constantly tell my students to avoid starting sentences with coordinate conjunctions; honestly I’m such a grammatical hypocrite.) Anyway-Facebook page. I signed up for it because a co-worker in India insisted it was the funnest thing on the virtual block. I got one and it was fun for about two weeks, then it lost it’s luster and I gave up playing with it. I’ve found that when I don’t have a “computer job” ie I spend long hours in front of a computer, I lose interest in making more than one senseless website contribution. I think if I had a computer job I would update my Facebook on a daily basis- always telling people what I’m doing and comparing them to each other and telling them I would rather be handcuffed to them than to some other friend; when in actuality I don’t want to be handcuffed to anyone.

According to my current rankings I am “most likely to kick it with Jesus some day” but in fact voted “0% friendly.” Sad commentary. Categories I win in: more powerful, smarter, more famous, more reliable, would rather live with, braver, more adventurous, more naturally talented, funnier, more confident, better catch, better at science (!?) harder worker, crazier, more artistic, more creative, studies harder, more useful, more outgoing (seriously who were they comparing me to?) Categories I lose in: more tech savvy, nicer, more punctual, more likely to skip class (little do these people know) more likely to do a favor for me, more fashionable, better public speaker, (I think I’m pretty good actually) rather have dinner with, would make a better father (duh) has a better profile picture, person I am jealous of, more loyal, would rather marry, more popular, can drink more, better dancer and kinder.

Pooh on those people who think I wouldn’t skip class and I’m a bad public speaker or that they don’t want to marry me- I’m a catch- just ask me I’ll give you a public speech about it while I am skipping class.

Well- I mean I don’t skip class now- I get paid to go to class, if I skip I don’t get paid. That doesn’t work out like it did in college and high school.

So, on Face book I have all these “friends” most of them more along the lines of past acquaintances. (Again with the coordinate conjunction.) Some of them, to be honest, I never really liked in the first place. Time and distance seems to blur the lines though. Some of these people would never give me the time of day when we could have possibly actually been friends. They request to be my friend, and I just accept. The most astonishing Facebook find was Vicki my best friend in 4th-7th grade. We had a little falling out when I stacked her locker so that when she opened it a sanitary napkin fell out in front of everyone- but other than that we were tight. Then I moved away. We wrote back and forth for about a year and then I never heard back from her. I got a friend request from her a few months ago. Wow- long, long time.

It’s an interesting thing to have- I know how to contact these long-losts if ever I want to. There are some other people I would like to know about. Susan, Mac and David from high school; Val, Francie, Rachael and Joe from Geneva; Kent, Joan and Alden from DCC; Jane, Dana, April, Anna, Sam, Dorian from summer missions; Susan, Bil and Jason from Journeymen. There are already too many people to actually keep up with, but I’d like to know how these people are in a general kind of way.

Oh, the knits I could knit . . . seriously, who wakes up in the morning and thinks, "Hey, I think I'll knit some toilet paper."

It is cute- cuter than the tampons . . .

I made a hat over the weekend. It was chunky yarn, so it’s not really a big deal. I saw the pattern online and thought “that’s so cute! I can do that!” In fact I could do that- but it turns out “that” is not so cute in real life. I learned two new techniques to make that hat! I did them right! It turned out just like the picture.

Here’s the problem- the picture shows the hat from the back. From the back the hat is cute. From the front it is like the Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man ordered a beret, and that beret started bubbling and melting on my head. I looked in the mirror and thought “What happened! This can’t be right!” Then I turned around and looked at the back of the hat, and sure enough- it was cute, just like the dratted picture.

That will teach me to knit a hat with only a picture of the back to judge cuteness by.

Upon frontal inspection of the “hat” I decided it was terminally ugly and must be unmade post haste. I feared for my life and well being, thinking perhaps the Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man would storm in demanding his half melted bubbly hat and inadvertently do some harm in the process.

I need a plan. I've started looking at new jobs. I like this job, but it's really just a place to be until something happens. Nothing has happened, so by next summer, I think I'll need a different place to be, unless something happens. I found a few interesting jobs here and there.

Princess Cruise lines occasionally wants somebody to teach their crew mates English on the way to Fiji. I could dig that.

A family in Iraq wants someone to teacher their effluent little Kurdish children English- kind of like an American Nanny/Teacher. (The first thing I thought was, "Wow, I could teach the next Saddam Hussein!" of course, this one probably wouldn't go around killing Kurds, he would go around killing non-Kurds, there are more of them.)

A woman's college in Korea wants someone to teach English and "content" to some Korean women (I imagine.)

I've been so remiss on my blogging. Really, I still have plenty to say- but for some reason, I am unmotivated to actually say it. I don't even say it outloud to anyone- let alone write it. I just think it and move on.

Last night I thought about what a pretty color of brown my eggs were. Lovely, really. I thought about taking a picture of them. But even that seemed like something that would require more motivation that I actually had at that moment.

Pictures don't take that long.

Not like writing an account of wanting to take pictures.

Ehh.

I baked a cake last night. It was from a mix. I used a silicon bundt pan- the cake turned out smaller looking than I expected. This morning I decided, with the help of Betty Crocker, to suplement it with a white cup cakes. We were doing pretty good until I realized that they didn't taste good.

I'm going to blame it on the old ingredients. The vanillia was at least 4 years old and the the shortening about a year old.

I should cook more, then I wouldn't have such old ingredients.

I can't really blame the glaze on the ingredients though- that was my fault. Too much milk . . . measuring is so over rated.

I'm going to the store today to get new ingredients. This cake and cup cakes are not representative of my abilities, besides, I need dog food. Buzz is really hungry.

I have more time these days. I don't have as many classes. I've found that if I really put any effort what-so-ever into my life I can get alot of things done.

Mostly I just sleep in though.

"Inside the restaurant, there are some cock models and you can figure out its feature."

My student writing about Babe's chicken restaurant- by "cocks" he means "chickens."

There is a reason I don't ever want to teach middle school aged children. The reason is, for the most part, they are incredibly annoying.

Around the ages of 9-12 kids take great joy in correcting other people. I'm sure it's even more fun when they get to correct an adult. So if one says, "It's 12:30." The preteen would say, "No it's not! It's 12:29 and a half!"

The preteen finds this to be a grand coup d'etat. Ah ha! The preteen outwits the adult once again!
This is something all kids do at some point. I had a penchant for correcting grammar myself.
The main reason it is so annoying is that what is corrected tend to be such minor details that to correct them is essentially nonsensical.

Really, does it matter if it’s 12:30 or 12:29 and a half? When someone is telling a story does “a apple” in stead of “an apple” cause a communication break down? If I say I live 30 minutes away instead of 22 miles away, do you still understand something about where I live?

So it goes that some people grow up, but remain in this stage of feeling superior to other by means of correcting them, by insisting on being right all the time, by refusing to accept anything but the literal meanings, or the ones that they themselves have pronounced acceptable.

I’ve noticed that these people, much like children, have no idea how annoying they are. They don’t pick up on all the cues that adults give when they are annoyed. They fail to show any acknowledgment when people respond poorly to them, or don’t respond to them at all.

I know one such person. Actually, I’ve know several such persons. In the past I decided a few of them needed someone to guide them on the way to be less annoying. Others of them I wanted to stab with my pencil.

This one I just try to ignore. I have no desire to be involved enough to guide or stab.

He asked me to pick up some ‘spring water’ from the store. The store was out of ‘spring water,’ so I bought ‘drinking water’ thinking that it’s pretty much the same. When I brought it back, he said, “That’s not ‘spring water,’ you might as well throw it away, nobody’s going to drink it unless you want to.”

’Yes, you’re welcome . . . Ass.’

That’s what I wanted to say. Instead I said, “Yes, I will drink it, because it’s drinking water.”

Thinking to myself, ‘Because I know that the difference between the two is the color of the packaging; and maybe, if the company is honest, the way in which the water comes to the surface.’

I grew up near a town in Pennsylvania called Cambridge Springs. It was a pretty popular resort destination in the late 1800s and early 1900s because of it’s “superior spring water.” My mother worked at the resort and she said people used to walk the board walk a quarter mile into the middle of a field to the spring. They would pay five cents for a glass of ‘spring water,’ not knowing that they were also taking showers in ‘spring water,’ and flushing their toilets with ‘spring water.’ It was all the same water. The only difference between ‘spring water’ and ground water (which is used to make ‘drinking water’) is that ‘spring water’ comes from a source that naturally raises to the surface. Some people think ‘spring water’ is the same as ‘mineral water,’ but that’s only the case when there are minerals in the ground from which the water springs.

Ass.

Have I mentioned I'm in love with Alan Dart? I wonder if he's gay . . . I don't mean to stereotype, but the man knows cute! First I HAD TO HAVE his gnome pattern. I looked all over and finally sucommed to ebay- of course now I find it on his own website. Too late. Then I had to have - (it wasn't as urgent as the gnomes) some bears- then I made the mistake of looking him up again and I HAD TO HAVE this book. I MUST knit chickens and bunnies!

The next must have is the mice- need them, but I'll wait a more oportune moment for the mice . . .

yes- the mice shall be mine . . . My precious . . .

I have finished all the bits of my first gnome, just gotta sew him together. He's gonna be super cute!

So pk called the other day to inquire about spending some quality time at the Indian restaurant in my neck of the woods- this is the most authentic Indian restaurant I’ve ever seen not in India. It’s more India than some restaurants I did see in India.

When I take someone there, we are inevitably the only whities in the place. It’s even set up in the Indian style, where you have to go to different counters to order different kinds of food- you order it from one (or several) person/people then they call your table number –It is important to sit at a table which they know is not clear over the loud speaker. When they say 13 or 30 they know it’s not clear, so they will say, “13- one-three” or “30- three-zero.” If, however, you sit at table 11 for example- well they know that doesn’t sound like anything so when they say, “Table eh-hen!” They expect you to know that – ‘yes you whitie- I plainly said,’ “Table ehhen!” Then you will look at the woman calling tables and look at your table number “eleven” and realize she’s been calling you for the past minute and a half.

It is called the “Chaat House” which is basically Snack/Street/Fast food in India. Yes, as a matter of fact you can get an entire four course meal at a stand/up-street side restaurant in India. This place, however, has tables and chairs- snacks and meals. I saw it when I first moved to Irving, and just couldn’t bring myself to enter- but after about 6 months of no Indian food, I decided to try it out- It is South India in a strip mall. I deeply appreciate it now. In the same strip mall is an Indian supermarket. If you feel a need for a few liters of coconut oil, or maybe some bitter fruit, or masala tea- this is the place to go. Pk bought a candy bar- I felt obliged to also buy something. I looked at the pharmacy section- found some “creamy snuff” next to the “Monkey Brand Black Tooth Powder” Umm- no to both. I don’t even know what black tooth powder means- Is it for black teeth?

Does it make teeth black? Or is it the actual monkey they are describing? Is it for black monkeys or should it actually read, “Black Monkey Brand Tooth Powder.” I don’t get it. And as for the “Creamy Snuff-” Why is that in the pharmacy section? It’s slogan was “A Wonder Treasure of Tobacco Pleasure.” It said, “Means Feeling Fresh” on the box. Do you brush your teeth with it? Sounds like that would make your teeth black. I found a “Yorkie” candy bar- “Not for Girls!” Well- that can really cut down on sales one would think . . .


I found some “Fat Fat Digestive Pills.” Uh- I don’t even what to think about it.

I finally decided to go with the “Hello Bee Bee” candy. It was yellow, it had a bee on it which looked suspiciously like the “Honey Nut Cheerios” bee. Maybe it’s his Indian cousin. I was thinking, “Ooh, look, they are even shaped like little bee hives! Cute! They must have honey in them! I bet they taste delicious!”
Obviously, with this insanely optimistic train of thought, I have been away from India for too long- I was putting things together in such a way that they would make sense. My mistake.

When I got home I ate one of my “Hello Bee Bee” “honey” candies. First unexpected thing was that although it was “gummy” it wasn’t gummy like Gummy Bears. It wasn’t even gummy like Swedish Fish. It was more along the lines of gummy like Jello which has been left in the fridge, uncovered for about a year and a half. It was resistant to my chewing- it made me feel uncomfortable.

Second, I noticed that I wasn’t tasking honey at all. I was tasting . . . something else . . . something I recognized . . . something that did not belong in my mouth in candy form . . . it was SWEET CORN!
Dang it! That wasn’t a long skinny bee hive!! It was candy corn! REAL candy corn!

India- you’ve done it to me again. Blast you!

I would like to say "What the . . . ?" and "Ewww!"



Tampon dolls look great in your bathroom, maybe next to a toilet paper doll? Not meant for children. Great as a gift for that person with a sense of humor!

that being said you can buy these babies for only $10.00 each!

But sometimes when you are young, you think that you can do everything you want like smoking selling drugs, dancing, being unconscious. Young people should understand that when parants ask them not to o something bad, it is for their well-being. When you smoke, for sure you will get a deisease; when you are unconscious you can miss a lot of opportunity to success in your life Finally, to be young is good but to be young and conscious is great.

Words of wisdom from a former student

One of my students was talking on the phone in class. I asked her why she was talking on the phone during class time, she said, “I don’t know!” So I asked her who she was talking to, she said, “I don’t know!” then she said, “He wants his Jackie.” I asked her if she told him he had the wrong number. She said “Yes!” I asked her why she was still talking to him in that case. She said, “I don’t know! He called me his Jackie!”

I said, “Give me the phone.” I took the phone and told the guy he had called my international student and she didn’t understand what he wanted, and asked who he was calling for. He said he was just trying to talk to Jackie somebody. I said, “I’m sorry, you have the wrong number.” He said, “Yeah I figured I might when she didn’t know what I was talking about.” So I hung up.

I asked my student why that was so difficult. “If you get a wrong number, you just say, ‘I’m sorry, you have the wrong number’ and hang up!”
She said, “But he called me his Jackie!”
I said, “But you aren’t Jackie!”
She said, “I thought he knew me!”
I said, “How could he know you if he called you the wrong name?”
She said, “He called me his Jackie!”
I said, “Are you Jackie?”
She said, “Jackie means “honey” in Korean. He said, “Hi Jackie (honey) and talked to me and I am not his Jackie (honey!) He was a bad man!”
Me: “Uh- no, he’s not a bad man . . . he just wanted to talk to (his) Jackie.”

That poor guy . . .

STING LYRICS

"Brand New Day"

How many of you people out there
Been hurt in some kind of love affair
And how many times do you swear that you'll never love again?

How many lonely, sleepless nights
How many lies, how many fights
And why would you want to put yourself through all that again?

"Love is pain," I hear you say
Love has a cruel and bitter way
Of paying you back for all the faith you ever had in your brain

How could it be that what you need the most
Can leave you feeling just like a ghost?
You never want to feel so sad and lost again

One day you could be looking
Through an old book in rainy weather
You see a picture of her smiling at you
When you were still together
You could be walking down the street
And who should you chance to meet
But that same old smile that you've been thinking of all day

You can turn the clock to zero, honey
I'll sell the stock, we'll spend all the money
We're starting up a brand new day

Turn the clock all the way back
I wonder if she'll take me back
I'm thinking in a brand new way

Turn the clock to zero, sister
You'll never know how much I missed her
Starting up a brand new day

Turn the clock to zero, boss
The river's wide, we'll swim across
Started up a brand new day

It could happen to you - just like it happened to me
There's simply no immunity - there's no guarantee
I say love's such a force - if you find yourself in it
And sometimes no reflection is there

Baby wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute

Turn the clock to zero, honey
I'll sell the stock, we'll spend all the money
We're starting up a brand new day

Turn the clock to zero, Mac
I'm begging her to take me back
I'm thinking in a brand new way

Turn the clock to zero, boss
The river's wide, we'll swim across
Started up a brand new day

Turn the clock to zero buddy
Don't wanna be no fuddy duddy
Started up a brand new day

I'm the rhythm in your tune
I'm the sun and you're the moon
I'm a bat and you're the cave
You're the beach and I'm the wave
I’m the plow and you’re the land
You're the glove and I'm the hand
I'm the train and you're the station
I'm a flagpole to your nation - yeah

Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Starting up a brand new day

I'm the present to your future
You're the wound and I’m the suture
You're the magnet to my pole
I'm the devil in your soul
You're the pupil I'm the teacher
You're the church and I'm the preacher
You're the flower I'm the rain
You're the tunnel I'm the train

Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Starting up a brand new day

You're the crop to my rotation
You're the sum of my equation
I'm the answer to your question
If you follow my suggestion
We can turn this ship around
We'll go up instead of down
You're the pan and I'm the handle
You're the flame and I'm the candle

Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
We're starting up a brand new day

Nowadays… A passage peppered with commas — which in the past would have indicated painstaking and authoritative editorial attention — smacks simply of no backbone. People who put in all the commas betray themselves as moral weaklings with empty lives and out-of-date reference books. (Truss, 2004, p. 97–98)

I suspect Truss doesn't know how to use commas.