It's the Little Things...

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Nom nom nom.

Yeah, About That...

As much as I would like to continue being the poster child for a brave new world of no TV…I now have (mumbling something unintelligible into my hand).

However I resolved this—if I bought all new high-tech digital TV equipment during a huge economic slump or if I confess that it was user error all along—it’s embarrassing. Let’s just say, I didn’t buy any new high-tech digital TV equipment.

Yesterday I was at a work meeting where, during a quiet moment, this subject came up and someone threw out what to them was probably a casual statement but which, for me, went off in my head like a pack of illegally procured firecrackers. Apparently, (1) you have to keep your TV on one of those weird in-between channels, like 3, and (2) you have to use the converter-box remote control, not your usual one. SRSLY? Within minutes of getting home I had TV reception and new channels, including—bonus!—three in Spanish and two in Chinese. In my defense, the reception is still not spectacular and the screen goes wiggly and pixely regularly and I occasionally lose reception altogether but, believe it or not, this is still better than what I used to get. Also in my defense, it says nothing about either of these items in the instructions. I checked.

Who says work meetings aren’t productive?

Stay tuned for, coincidentally, a huge leap ahead in my knitting.

I Am Easily Amused

Not much on the knitting front (or front and back. Or front, back and sleeves.) to write about but things are happening. I’ve had an almighty struggle with the first sleeve of the Merely Tolerable Gansey but the clouds are starting to part. In fact, if I had arms that were only three inches long, I’d be done. Well, with one sleeve, anyway. This site is officially my new best friend; sorry, Ken.

In the meantime, some little happenings that amused me:

1. Something went really, really wrong with my life somewhere along the way because I now own a machete. Princesses do not own machetes. (Er…apparently this rule has been amended to: Princesses with ivy problems do.)

2. The machete is symbolic of my attempt to get my neglected yard back under human dominion, starting with the mountain of blackberry that smothered six sizeable shrubs over the course of the last year and a half. Last night I found myself deep in the bowels of the blackberries, rescuing an ailing hydrangea, and every time I cut a cane of the by-then-dubbed Enemy, rather than squirm my way back out to deposit the cane in a pile, I just flung it behind me. (Or I would try. Sometimes I would give a cane a mighty heave with a Monica-Seles-like grunt and Tiger-Woods-like follow-through, only to end up with the cane stuck firmly to my sleeve.) Guess what I discovered when I turned around? A pile of severed canes almost large enough to block out the sun and certainly large enough to block my escape. I made it out but let’s just say, thank God red goes with my pale skin and freckles.

3. Also last night, Benny jumped on the top of the refrigerator to watch me make a grilled-cheese sandwich and, unbeknownst to him, since cats pretty much don’t knownst anything, hunkered down on just the door part of the freezer. I tried to resist, I really did, but finally I broke down…and opened the freezer door. The look on Benny’s face as he found himself suddenly swinging outward from the fridge and teetering on a 1”-wide ledge was priceless. I had a huge laugh, pointed at him (this may have been where I made my mistake), shut the freezer door, and went back to making my sandwich. All of which explains the lick marks I found on my butter an hour later.

4. Being a member of the local Freecycle group is worth it if for no other reason than the occasional oddball postings that come along. My favorite to date: Mr. Potato's tongue and right arm.

What Is This Thing You Earthlings Call "TV?"

[Picture-heavy post, Dear Readers.]

Some updates.

First, an indignant Benny the Flying Cat says...

Who me? How could you tell all those lies, Mom? In fact, look at me. I'm so earthbound I'm flat.

Notice, however, that he is very close to the microwave in case an opportunity presents itself, never mind the fact that I'm taking the photograph from outside. The further fact that Joon is occupying the top of the microwave is also of no consequence; he will ricochet off her face if he has to.

Secondly, it’s day nine without the boob tube. I have learned three things.

1. This has been a lot easier than I thought it would be.

2. My knitting is paying the price. I knit almost exclusively in front of the TV so during the last week I knit…

3. I’ve discovered the freedom of not being controlled by the exactly 7 p.m., exactly 8 p.m., exactly 9 p.m., and exactly 10 p.m. TV schedule, with the occasional exactly-30-minutes-after-the-hour thrown in. Who knew you could eat dinner from, say, 7:49 p.m. to 8:12 p.m., swing right on past that sacred at-the-hour, on-the-hour 8 p.m. time, and no earthquakes, no frogs falling from the sky, no rivers running red with blood? Seriously; I look at time completely differently.

(However, I have admitted to myself that I will never survive a Seattle winter without a TV, so something will give eventually.)

Much thanks to the kind commenters and emailers who wondered, and quite rightly, knowing how low-tech I am for someone who works in IT, if I had scanned for channels but, yes, I dutifully did. About three or four times on each TV, just to be sure. Both converter boxes said they found channels…but then said "neener, neener" and declined to share.

In the gardening arena, I am inadvertently growing rude things:

Despite their resemblance to alien genitalia, these are in reality Hungarian Yellow Wax Peppers. No comments from the more smutty-minded among you since I'll be leaving myself wide open with practically everything I say in the next sentence but here goes: When these ripen, I'll have no idea what to do with them, especially since I'll probably only have one to work with at any given time (see? Wide open.). I’m thinking of maybe a roasted-chili and fresh-herb butter for chicken or steak. Any other suggestions?

I’ve also learned that when the weather is wacko (90-degrees some days, 50 some others, and we just finished a 29-day record-tying dry spell*), and your plants aren’t producing armfuls of beautiful flowers (note the atmospheric gloominess of the photo; very representative of our current weather)…

…cheat. Bring in other, already-blooming dahlias plus some miniature roses:

For more color, I also planted two calladia (?), this one, which is too whimsical for words...

...and this one, which pleased me no end by cradling a beautiful drop of water:

This last was not taken in my yard but in one of the six yards knitting peeps Diane, Gail and I visited today on a fun and idea-generating local fund-raising garden tour. No lie; I would sell my very soul for this rose (if the soul in question weren't already in hock for yarn):

*Notice I said record-tying, not record-breaking. We were thisclose to breaking the record but with eleven minutes to spare, it started raining. Curse you, Mother Nature!

Huh.

The conversion of my TVs to digital Did Not Go Well. Small TV in the bedroom: All snow, all the time. Large TV in the living room: Ditto, so I'm now on Day Four of no boob toob.

In other completely separate, completely unrelated news, I finished one book and started another, my house is clean, the laundry is done, half of the garage is organized, the cats have been getting a lot of attention, the dahlia bed is weeded, and I've been getting to bed early.

.....

.....

.....

.....Oh.

(Now, if I can just get a handle on the hallucinations, the tics, and the foaming at the mouth.)