I've been thinking about the Weasley sweater you requested that I make for you. Like this one: You do realize that your name doesn't lend well to the whole concept of this particular sweater? You understand that your 1st initial will be emblazoned on your chest for all to see? You totally have to know that I will feel obligated to call you Hester Prynne for the rest of your life, right?
Grace grabbed my turkey sandwich off the coffee table and before I could get it away from her she had snarfed down almost all of the meat. I managed to scoop up the bread and cheese, but the turkey was a lost cause.
I knew something was wrong because usually after she does something all dog-like and bad, she hides behind the toilet, so that by the time I find her I will have forgotten that she's been a bad girl. But today she came over looking all guilty and tried to crawl in my lap.
I picked her up and took her into the other room so I could hear her breathing. Or, in this case, not hear her breathing. While I was trying to decide what to do she managed to hork up a 4 inch solid wad of turkey meat. It just slithered right out of her mouth and landed with a splat on the floor.
And because this post is already so very gross, here is a picture of the horked up turkey with a quarter bedside it for comparison. Anyone who has put their fingers around Grace's neck knows how scary-big this piece of meat is. (and anyone who has had to listen to her bark at the tv for any length of time has wanted to have their fingers around her neck!)
I need this translated please. Anyone know Japanese? Mom? Do you have any kids that can help?
PICTURE REMOVED FOR COPYRIGHT REASONS. The guilt of posting copyrighted material finally got the best of me. I dreamt the copyright police picked me up, stripped me naked, painted me blue and left me with one ham sandwich in the countryside to find my own way home.
Oh, and because I found someone to translate for me.
Anyone who knows me for more than two minutes knows that Grace Ann is a little spoiled. One of her little princess quirks that we have to deal with every so often, is when the grass is wet she sometimes says she's done pickling, but she really just doesn't want to get her feet wet anymore.
Today I was vacuuming in preparation of my moms visit when I happened to suck up a little pickle that was hiding under a chair. Little did I know that the rug I bought was actually a camo-poo design and not the leafy design I thought I bought. Anyway, vacuuming up crunchy poo is not my preferred method of disposal, but what was done was done. I shrugged and finished the room even though I could hear that hard little pickle thunking away in the vacuum head.
Now as luck would have it just when I was finishing up I accidentally knocked the hose out of the back of the vacuum. My machine is fairly powerful and apparently when that pickle was bumping away in there it was being broken up and turned into little pickle pebbles. When the hose came off the pickle pebbles shot from the tube in 30 different directions all over the room. It was like one of those marshmallow guns except the ammo wasn't as soft.
And that's why I spent the 45 minutes picking up pickle pebbles.
ETA: it was just one pickle broken into tiny little pieces. I swear we don't live in the crazy cat lady's house. You know, the one you see on the TV who died and she had so many cats that the corpse isn't detected for 3 years because of the ever present smell.
I started and finished my final sewing project. And I returned Tanya's sewing machine before the motor even cooled. I think I'm set to not sew again for at least 10 years.
My new motto: If it can't be tacked up with duct tape then it ain't worth it!
Cortland now has the most satinest, softest blanket in the whole wide world. And as a bonus, if he doesn't like it, the blanket will make a great Grace Ann blanket. (please don't tell her it's a hand-me-down. She already feels like the red-headed step-child.) The reverse side of the blanket is some soft velvety kind of fabric. It just makes me want to wear it on my head all day everyday like a scarf so I can rub my cheeks all over it.
And I totally agree with my Aunt Jeannie that ruffles are the worst things to make!
And here is a picture of the prettiest never been used nursery. The animal pictures at the top were taken by Alan's Uncle when he and his wife went to Africa and slept in trees. I need to get a few more of his photos for the walls. And lookie at the red sweater. Tanya made that. Isn't she talented?
I was so excited because I can finally fit into my cute skirts and my toes were just done last weekend by Ciara, so I can wear my skirt flip-flops without hiding my head in crunchy, unpainted foot shame.
It was 70 degrees a couple of days ago! This sucks! Guess I'll be putting my feet back into the proverbial closet.