Definition: an expression of indifference, apathy or boredom. And unfortunately it exactly sums up how I’m feeling about this pattern for which I paid 8 whole dollars.

Why am I galled by the $8 pattern rather than the *mmblmmbl* I spent on 3 skeins of Artyarns Beaded Mohair and Sequins? Because I’m going to use the yarn, silly! Eventually… (see my last post for an explanation of “stash”).

Suggestions anyone? Here’s a picture of the yarn to help inspire you (thanks Bells!).

Up until this point, I’ve told myself with pride that I had no “stash.” In a knitter’s world this means no backlog of yarn to be used at a later date (What did YOU think a stash was?). When I had to give in and buy a set of organizer shelves to accommodate all the needles, patterns and yes, yarn stash, I finally had to admit that I may have a problem.

Speaking of, is it bad that this picture made my mouth water? It’s called Rusty Nail and is sold out of Cork, Ireland. * The birthplace of my ancestors!** I’ve never bought anything on Etsy before, but I’m thinking the time is drawing nigh.

*Whoops! Got my links mixed up in a previous draft of this post, but the proper folks are credited for the proper fibers now. Sorry for the confusion!

** O.k., so it could have been Limerick or Dublin or any number of places in Ireland I’ve never actually heard of. The details are sort of sketchy. What can I say? My ancestors were just as lousy at record keeping as I am.

I don’t know what the weather’s like in your part of the world, but here in Alabama we’re smack dab in the middle of winter. Now I can count on one hand the number of snows I saw when I was a kid. And I can attest to the fact that I’ve been sledding exactly one time — and that’s only if you count sliding down a glorified mole-hill on a flattened cardboard box. But thanks to the inexplicably capricious nature of Global Warming, my kids have seen more snow by age five than I saw in my first 30 years.

Living here in the South, even the threat of a light dusting of snow can lead to the frenzied closing of businesses and schools and a run on every supermarket in a 50 mile radius for the bare necessities — Milk and Bread. I’ve never understood what exactly I’m supposed to do with all this milk and bread since peanut butter or bologna have never made the list of must haves. And I’m ashamed to admit that we are weathering the inch of snow that accumulated with NO MILK IN THE HOUSE.

Not that I didn’t try. I blame Target for selling me milk dated Feb. 20 that must have been bottled this time last year. So in lieu of a hearty lunch of milk and bread, we’ve had to settle for playing outside all afternoon.

Tom took to sledding like a duck to water.

As did Will.

Sam opted to practice his “Brooding/Pensive” pose to be ready for whatever sequel the Twilight series is on by the year 2025.

We made a fantastic snowman, which promptly fell over. And we were forced to rebuild him at the end of the excursion when daddy was feeling less than enthusiastic.

Don’t let his handsome smile fool you, he was just cracking up over the snow phallus I made him remove from Snowman Two’s bottom half.

Here’s a mystery for you to solve. If Jodi’s red leather gloves looked like this at the end of the outing…

…then which parts of the snowman did she help assemble?

If you guessed that eyes and noses are my specialty, YOU ARE CORRECT! And personally, I think Jack’s mini-snowman bears a striking resemblance to Telly from Sesame Street…or W.C. Fields. Take your pick.

And now for the end…literally. And no, Jack’s rear end isn’t actually located around his ankles, but his soggy, saggy jeans seemed to tell another story.

Hope your Friday was fantastic!

“Mom! Can you help me?” Will asked.

“Help you what?” I asked, trying to figure out the problem.

“Help with dis,” Will insisted pointing at the footrest on the recliner.

You can see why he was so uncomfortable without it. Check out the length of those legs! Future NBA star, obviously.

My house is a wreck and I just don’t care. I left to take the boys to school wearing no makeup, my glasses and this odd creation (that I bought dirt cheap in order to steal the pattern) so that no one would see just how greasy my hair is. Because, incidentally, I haven’t had a bath today either.

Sometimes I have it all together. The dishes are clean, the floors are swept, the carpets are vacuumed, the pillows fluffed and the clothes are washed and folded. And I’m kicked back, fully dressed, coiffed and made up with a cup of coffee in one hand and my Kindle in the other. Sometimes it’s exactly like that for, oh….30 minutes or so. That, my friends, is a perfect day.

Today is not one of those days. Today the sheets need to be changed, the floors are fuzzier than the carpets and I washed a pull-up in the final laundry load last night, so have had to run all those clothes through the full cycle repeatedly in an effort to eliminate the funky gelatin that spilled out of it.

I’m seriously considering dialing 911 and reporting a burglary. Because don’t they send a complementary clean-up crew after that happens? No? Well they should.

“Someone broke in and stole your flat screen? We’re sorry about that ma’am. We’ll have a work crew out there right away to clean behind your toilets and take care of that funky gelatin in your washer. Now don’t cry ma’am. Just sit back and drink your coffee and read your Kindle. It’s all in a day’s work.”

Honestly, that’s a completely fair trade in my opinion. Maybe I should write my congressman. That should take up at least an hour if you count revisions, printing and driving to the post office. One less hour I have to spend in a purgatory of spray disinfectant, toilet brushes and the like.

As it is, I’m going to go scramble myself an egg and make, then guzzle, a pot of coffee in hopes that I’ll feel more like tackling the monstrous mess on a full stomach with a healthy (?) dose of caffeine coursing through my system. Happy Thursday, Everybody! And remember my motto…If you can’t be a good example, at least be a terrible warning.

I just realized I’m so boring that I’m posting about getting stains out of my kids’ clothes. Next we’ll discuss something exciting like the best treatments for dry, cracked heels and elbows (oh, wait…there was already this post on that).

Excuse me while I go take up sky diving or lion taming in order to justify having a blog.

So here’s Will’s completely awesome Star Wars hat.

Sure I had to hold the grey yarn in my left hand and knit it Continental Style while holding the cream yarn in my right hand and knitting English style. Never mind that I carefully carried the non-dominant color and wove it above and below the color that was in use throughout the entire pattern. And yes, there are four distinct objects circling the hat which made for 20 rows of 80 stitches with NO REPEATS. No big deal. Just so it makes him feel happy when he wears it.

But perhaps…and this is just a suggestion…perhaps wearing it to lunch on Ravioli Day at school was a little unnecessary. And certainly deciding to use it as a napkin in lieu of…oh, I dunno… a NAPKIN was even more unnecessary if that is at all possible.

Any suggestions for removing ravioli stains from Blue Sky Hand-Dyed Wool would be met with gratitude and undying affection.

Theorem: My family’s appreciation of dinner is inversely proportional to the amount of time, effort and money I devote to it.

Proof: Taco Salad Night at the Burrus Zoo = A houseful of happy campers

I think I deserve an honorary PhD in home economics. Don’t you?

“Go get ready for bed.”

Jack heard….

I give up.