A clear, blue sky for a lovely Saturday, although it's not nearly as warm as the sky would make you thing. I believe the temperature went down to about 4 degrees C last night, which is just a little scary. This is my favourite tree. It may not look like anything special, but I can see it out my bedroom window, and I love to watch it move in the breeze, and hear the wind ruffle the leaves. Very soothing. It's not actually my tree, it belongs to my neighbors, and I am in perpetual slight fear that they will suddenly decide its an eyesore, or they need space, and chop it down. The evergreen next to it is looking healthy, a small miracle in a place where every evergreen in sight is being decimated by the
Mountain Pine Beetle.
The mittens are almost done. I'm so close I can taste it. All that's still to do is the left thumb. I thought I would finish last night, but we were watching
RV, and I stopped working on the mitten once I finished the flap, and switched to Katie's sock. The movie was cute. All three big kids enjoyed it (babe was in bed), and I liked it except for the one thing that bothers me about almost every single movie and TV show out there today. The lack of respect show to the "father". It completely drives me crazy how rude the entire family can always be to the stupid dad who can't do anything right, and can't possibly function without his wife, who tolerates his idiocy because she loves him, or he's the father of her children, or simply because he brings home the bacon. I know, as a wife and mother, that I've felt these feelings, and had this reaction myself a time or two, but I'm not proud of them, and don't think they should be encouraged. I especially don't think they should be fed into the minds of children who mimic every single thing they see on the big black box. All right. Sorry. That's my rant of the day.
Next topic: Reading. I've always been a voracious reader. I grew up reading the encyclopedia, Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, and anything else I could get my hands on. I am thoroughly enjoying the
CraftLit podcast, in which we hear a few chapters of Pride and Prejudice. This summer, however, I have indulged in completely mindless reading. I am a sucker for any cheesy murder mystery, but have discovered two new authors I particularly enjoy. Joanne Fluke writes about a woman returned to her hometown to open a cookie shop. This one is particularly cheesy, which I love in that "I'm so superior, I could do better than that" way, and included some really wonderful cookie recipes. At my last visit to the library, I also found Monica Ferris (just a shelf or two up from Fluke), and am currently reading
Crewel World, which is set in a needlework shop, and even includes some knitting and yarn content. What could be better than that?
A clear, blue sky for a lovely Saturday, although it's not nearly as warm as the sky would make you thing. I believe the temperature went down to about 4 degrees C last night, which is just a little scary. This is my favourite tree. It may not look like anything special, but I can see it out my bedroom window, and I love to watch it move in the breeze, and hear the wind ruffle the leaves. Very soothing. It's not actually my tree, it belongs to my neighbors, and I am in perpetual slight fear that they will suddenly decide its an eyesore, or they need space, and chop it down. The evergreen next to it is looking healthy, a small miracle in a place where every evergreen in sight is being decimated by the Mountain Pine Beetle.
The mittens are almost done. I'm so close I can taste it. All that's still to do is the left thumb. I thought I would finish last night, but we were watching RV, and I stopped working on the mitten once I finished the flap, and switched to Katie's sock. The movie was cute. All three big kids enjoyed it (babe was in bed), and I liked it except for the one thing that bothers me about almost every single movie and TV show out there today. The lack of respect show to the "father". It completely drives me crazy how rude the entire family can always be to the stupid dad who can't do anything right, and can't possibly function without his wife, who tolerates his idiocy because she loves him, or he's the father of her children, or simply because he brings home the bacon. I know, as a wife and mother, that I've felt these feelings, and had this reaction myself a time or two, but I'm not proud of them, and don't think they should be encouraged. I especially don't think they should be fed into the minds of children who mimic every single thing they see on the big black box. All right. Sorry. That's my rant of the day.
Next topic: Reading. I've always been a voracious reader. I grew up reading the encyclopedia, Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, and anything else I could get my hands on. I am thoroughly enjoying the CraftLit podcast, in which we hear a few chapters of Pride and Prejudice. This summer, however, I have indulged in completely mindless reading. I am a sucker for any cheesy murder mystery, but have discovered two new authors I particularly enjoy. Joanne Fluke writes about a woman returned to her hometown to open a cookie shop. This one is particularly cheesy, which I love in that "I'm so superior, I could do better than that" way, and included some really wonderful cookie recipes. At my last visit to the library, I also found Monica Ferris (just a shelf or two up from Fluke), and am currently reading Crewel World, which is set in a needlework shop, and even includes some knitting and yarn content. What could be better than that?
