Tag Archives: pictures

4 to go!

I should be packing, not sitting on my butt eating cold mac and cheese and icy Diet Coke.  BUT LOOK AT ME GO.


Part of it is because Simes is asleep in the bedroom, and I’ve learned the hard way that I really cannot pack while he’s napping.  The RRRIIIIIIPPPPPP of the packing tape, the clanging of pots and pans – it wakes him right up.  So instead I shall sit on my ass and knit a knee sock and talk at y’all.


We’ve had a busy morning.  Drove Jeff to work since I packed his bike pump (after he pumped his tires, TYVM) but his front tire isn’t holding air.  So this is my penance for being on top of things. 😛  Then Simon had a pediatrician’s appointment way up in Pasadena – just a quick jab for his flu shot.    After that, I decided to reward myself that he barely cried (shut up, there’s logic there).  So I went into this coffee shop by the pediatrician’s office, feeling all righteous and “lah de DA look at me not going to Starbucks!  I’m supporting a local business! Hurr durr durr”.


My reward was a creepy little place that was empty at 10:00am, a green tea smoothie made from powder + ice + milk, and (I noticed in the bakery case on my way out) a spot of mold on the displayed muffins.

I will not be going back.


As I’ve been doing these last-minute errands before the move, knowing full well I’ll never see any of the people I interact with ever again, I’ve been saying little goodbyes inside my head:  “So long, Brenda the receptionist at the vet’s office!”  “Goodbye, bank teller lady who always compliments my wraps!”  “Rudy! Our favorite photographer at JC Penney!  Farewell!”  It’d be pretty damn lame to actually say goodbye to any of these people – like they know me from a hole in the wall anyway – but I still feel the need to inwardly commemorate the occasion.


I’m also doing it to places:  “Au revoir, stupid weird intersection!”  “Adios, Target Starbucks that always screws up my chai!”  “Sayonara, mail drop box that looks like it wants to give me tetanus!”


Probably should see about adjusting the ol’ meds, eh?


I’ll end with a couple pictures from Simon’s 1-year session.  It continues to baffle me how I managed to create something so stinkin’ beautiful.

(My real kid – the one with the lazy eye and mole-y skin and lank hair – is probably still waiting to be picked up at the St. Mary’s NICU.)


(I love that one.  A grandma in the waiting room nearly had a heart attack when we took it. :-D)


So dignified!


That last one reminds me so much of Jeff’s official clerk portrait:

So maybe Simon’s not a NICU switcheroo after all. 😛


Time to stop dredging apple slices in Greek yogurt and get to work.  TO ZEE KUH-NITTINK!



What do Oscar Wilde and my uterus have in common? Nothing at all.

I don’t wanna be one of those people who waves around ultrasound pics to make everyone ooh and aah at a blurry-looking blob.  So if you DON’T want to see pictures of Hoopling at 20 weeks, then watch this completely-non-Hoopling-related video instead:

(here are parts 2, 3, 4, and 5, if you liked that)

And now avert your eyes, ’cause we’re about to get ALL ultrasound-y up in here.

(And yes, these are crappy photos of blurry ultrasound images.  If you wanna make things really interesting, toss back a couple shots of tequila then come look again.)

Look! It has a head! And a face!

It was being really active (possibly due to the Diet Dr. Pepper that I chugged just before the appointment in hopes of getting a good show).  Fun to watch, not so fun for the tech who was chasing it around trying to measure things.

And now… Thoughtful Pose!

(or maybe practicing its Glamour Shot pose like Aunt Jen?)*


Freaky alien face!

(That definitely looks like Jeff. I can tell.  But it has my chin.)


And at the other end of things…


The tech said it’s a good thing we’re not finding out the gender anyway, because SOMEONE was squirming around way too much to reveal that.  Way to be modest, kiddo.


Awright, that’s all I’ve got.  Now I’m off to send an apology email to Jen and beg her to forgive me for that link.


The most anticlimactic post ever

I have about ten things I want to write about, but I don’t have the mental energy to address any of them properly.  Turns out that the growth in my kittenface’s mouth *is* cancer.  So Othello is at the oncologist right now, undergoing a CT scan to find out if it’s operable.  My day/week/year is about to get marginally better or much much worse, and right now I have no way of knowing which way it’s going to turn (though I do have a pessimistic suspicion).

So in lieu of prettyhappy self-contained daily posts about a variety of fun topics, you’re about to receive one mediocre and rather dull post about a variety of fun topics.



In a move that will surprise no one, I got a bee in my bonnet about all our myriad unprinted, unframed, unhanging photos.  So I set out to print, frame, and hang them.  In a series of unfortunate events (notice a theme for the year?), this ended up requiring *four* trips to the ass-end of West County, as well as a multitude of fun trips to JoAnn, Michael’s, Target, Marshall’s, and even Dollar Tree.  But now I have many pictures printed and many frames and am in the process of combining the two into pleasing arrangements.  Which I will then distribute among various walls and tabletops in our house.  Tonight.

In a particularly morbid fashion, Jeff and I have undertaken to call this a “hanging party”, which fortuitously only requires a slight modification of some equally-morbid Replacements song lyrics.  I’ll be singin’ the night away as I hang up assorted vacation, family, and pet photos tonight.  It’ll be fun?


(this one really needs its own post, but look at me – I deny its wishes)

I made a sweater for Grandma.  She picked out the pattern, and I chose a soft, durable, warm yarn that could also somehow pass for “very inexpensive” (I knew Grandma wouldn’t wear it if she thought I spent more than $2 on the yarn).  I finished it last week:

That’s Peasy, of Rowan Felted Tweed.  I added a significant amount of length because Grandma has become rather stooped (thus elongating her back), and changed the button spacing a bit so she could just do the top one or middle one if desired.  Other than that, I left the pattern pretty much alone.

Sweet little buttons from JoAnn:

We went to Grandma’s house on Sunday, and the initial reception of the sweater was…mild, to say the least.  Remember the dishcloth incident?  Yesterday was exactly like that, only I got pissed because dammit I make things to wear, not just to look at.  Mom sensed my disappointment (the exchange of pointed looks may have had something to do with it), and then fairly wrestled the sweater onto Grandma.

Photo evidence:

(no idea why I look pinker than my cardigan, or why Grandma looks drunk.)

So now we know that Grandma has worn the sweater at least once, and Mom at least appreciates the effort and quality that went into it.  Grandma had better wear that thing every freaking day.  I mean it.  I fail to understand the “too good to use” mindset.


At 11:00pm on Thursday night, I finished piecing the quilt (needless to say, that 2010 effort fizzled).

Doesn’t look like that much work, does it?

How ’bout now?

I hand-pieced that during my junior-year study hall in high school, in my college dorm, in our first apartment and now here in St. Louis.  I’ve dragged that thing through 5 different moves and worked on it in fits and starts.

I’m sure Grandma will get it quilted in record time, and then I’ll just have to bind the little fucker.  Here’s hoping *that* doesn’t take a further ten years…

(Better pictures to follow when it’s well and truly done)


I’m thinking about making a new life motto.  It will be: “I hand-pieced an entire queen-sized quilt at 11 stitches per inch.  Any other challenge is trivial.”


Now I’m going to finish that wall-hanging I started two years ago.


Lastly, Jeff said this a few weeks ago:

and I liked it so well that I printed it out and hung it on the cabinet over my desk.  Everyone who’s seen it has agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment.


That’s it for today, y’all.  Keep your fingers crossed for kittenface, and goddamnit y’all better be appreciatin’ the awesome FO’s above.  I WANT ACCOLADES FROM *SOMEONE*, Y’HEAR?