Those Clever Norwegians

My latest "thing": I've been buying odd saucers and bowls from The Goodwill. My OC, uber-analytical brain has even created rules about these purchases. There can be only one of the pattern for sale (I won't break a set) and it cannot be stamped "Made in China". Somehow, I always end up with the ones covered in roses 'n stuff. I worry that my aesthetic is becoming too girlie...or too Granny...because I worry about that kind of thing. I'm also concerned that my favourite item of clothing is my black leather jacket with all the buckles while, at the same time, I deeply adore the frou frou English saucer covered in red roses and gold paint trim. I believe this behaviour to be symptomatic of mental illness.

Anyway, check out the fantastic cereal bowl with the fisherman. It's made in Norway. Who knew the Norwegians made awesome crockery?

The Part I Love Is...

You know how it is when you're knitting a sock with a lace pattern? You stop the lace on the prescribed row to create the heel flap. Then you head around the bend and turn the heel. Soon, you're ready to return to the round. You go around the instep and ...the lace continues! This is the Part I Love. In my head I know why it works, yet, each and every time, it feels like magic.

The Case of the Expensive Sock

Chatting with fellow knitters recently, the topic of the actual cost of knitted garments came up. Not only is the yarn often pricey, but one's labour hours added in means a hand knit sweater has an actual worth of several hundred dollars.

Using this logic, my one sock is worth about five hundred bucks. The yarn, FibraNature Yummy, only cost $10.00 on sale, but I've been working on this thing for months. It's my streetcar knit, back and forth morning and evening since there was snow on the ground. At one point, I had one sock complete, tried it on, hated the fit and ripped right back to the cuff to start again. I made a tricky pattern adjustment and started again. Now Sock One is complete, but for the grafting and Sock 2 is at the heel flap. Whew.

Rainy Day

I live within walking distance of the lake now. This afternoon, I took a long stroll along the shore, splashing a bit in my red rubber boots. How strange to see how a little wind and rain meant that the entire area was deserted. In a city the size of ours on a holiday weekend, no one was out in the park. I passed nary a soul.

Until here. See next to that tree, past the lifeguard chair? It's a trio of Mum, Dad and little girl, sitting on a log, playing in the wet sand. I smiled as I passed them and thought to myself.

"These people are all right. That little girl is going to do just fine."

Mudder's Day

It was a lovely day for two mothers today.
The Daughter woke me with tea in bed and we snuggled and sipped. Then, on the dining room table was this lovely gift of flowers, jewellery and adorable card. Ahh...

After lunch we made our planned trip to the Toronto Humane Society to populate this apartment with a cat. It was such a difficult decision to leave all three family cats at the house with the ex. They just love each other, not to mention their back garden, so much, that I couldn't stand to split them up. I miss them very much. Various factors have contributed to the continuous putting off of getting cats of my own - not the least of which was my hesitance to "replace" my beloved former herd.

Anyway, today was the day and off we went in search of a nice indoor singleton. Well plans never quite work out do they? We were drawn again and again to the cage of this Mother/Daughter duo. They'd been surrendered by their former owner about five weeks ago and were becoming depressed. They've lost weight and were losing hope. They needed out of there. Now they're hiding under The Daughter's bed but will let us stick our arm in and pat them. It will take some time, but us four girls are going to get along just fine.

Their original names are Mommy and Pooky. Unbearable. We've changed them to Molly and Lucy which we figure sound enough alike to keep the cats comfortable.

Welcome Lucy and Molly!

Snubbed

So, the other night, I was to see an old friend. She was on the guest list of an event I was working. This is a woman who I know from married days and who I always quite liked. She, her husband and my ex are all linked professionally. We haven't seen each other in a while and I was looking forward to a chat.
Well, she arrived and I greeted her warmly. Response? Blank smile. Inane socially polite comment. Glazed "can't get out of here fast enough" expression.
Oh.
I see.
We were only friends because I was "wife of".

I went to the woman's wedding for heaven's sake.

This has happened a few times now. It's one of the things nobody tells you to expect post separation. I won't say I'm hurt by it, just disappointed. Ultimately, it's the other person's stuff and that's OK. It's surprising how many people one gets a divorce from. It takes some getting used to.