Tuesday, November 27, 2007


Missing, Presumed Red

I'm still here, I just haven't had a whole lot to say of late and unlike the lunatics who signed up to write a post a day for the entire month of November, I decided just to shut up and not say the things I don't have to say. There is nothing more that I can safely say about work (apart from the fact that it just got a whole lot worse, and I just started caring a whole lot less) and I think we've all heard enough whining about cars and weather and Mr. Assmuppet and the state of my laundry for a while, have we not?

My apologies to those who sent concerned notes (and to those who were concerned but didn't send notes, too).

I've been dyeing up a storm and have managed to get a few (very few) skeins of yarn into the store today -- I think one of dk and five of sock, in pinks, purples and red. I'm hoping to get a few more listed tomorrow (seeing I'd like to pay rent and all) however the camera and I have been having a difference of opinion. You see, when I think of "point and click" I assume that first I point, and then I click. Makes sense, no?

Ha! Apparently there is a "focus" thing involved in the middle there, and although I've been doing my part when it comes to the focusing, apparently the camera has not.

Either that or I'm a total twat who can't work a very simple camera. That, too, is possible but I would prefer not to entertain the idea until after I've finished berating the completely-innocent piece of equipment.

Anyhow, the pictures in the store still aren't perfect but they're like my fourth try and I need to eat and engage in some sort of grime-removal ritual before heading out to work, so they'll have to do until tomorrow.

Seeing I'm making this post all about the filthy lucre, if anyone's doing some holiday shopping, I believe that miss mousie has updated her store with some pretty things, and Libby has also made her initial foray into the world of whoring fibre commerce.

And my child has apparently just accidentally dropped an entire plate of spaghetti and sauce into her toybox. I do believe I know what I'm doing for the next hour ...


ewww,dinner and toys don't mix very well. Actually they do, that's the problem. Good luck bathing the toys and focusing on your work.
The old "spaghetti in the toybox" routine eh? That sounds FUN! or.. wait.. maybe it was the opposite of fun. Yes, that was it.. the other thing.
The method of dealing with such things is simple.. take two cups of bleach. Pour one in the toybox.. drink the other. Tah-Dah! Instant.. no wait.. don't do that. Hang onto those cups of bleach.. I'll be right up.
In a situation like the spaghetti in the toybox, the general rule of thumb is 15 minutes or less on the beating.
Did I say beatings? I meant cleanings.

Cleanings. Yeah.
Beatings. No.
I'm a professional.
I know these things.

Does she have a thing for eating spaghetti off her toys? I bet spaghetti would be fun to pick out of the crap catcher in the washing machine too. Know any repair people who work cheap?

The camera is a twat that can't read your mind.
Apparently I am a twat that can't look first click last.

Is that Rasperry Beret as luscious as the picture hints? (Do I really want an answer to that?)
I assume that next hour was full of wine and denial.
My confirmation word is BelpGlu. What's a belp and why should I glue one?
I think I need to go back to bed.
I am happy to hear that you are still alive and kicking. I'm sorry about work. I would say I hope it gets better, and I do, maybe there will be a little xmess miracle. In any case, I hope work-in-general gets better in some shape or form for you personally.
This has been your boring, wordy, and pedantic horoscope for today.
It's probably too late now, but I'm guessing that the garbage guys will do curbside pickup for spaghetti-infested toyboxes. Not only does that handle this particular mess, but it guarantees that you will never again have to deal with spaghetti in the toybox. (Of course, be sure to put a quarter in the therapy jar when carrying said toybox to the curb...)
Good news: they get older and move out where they make their own spaghetti; cuts down on pranks like that. Also, it may be too late - but I'd SUPERVISE the cleaning of the toybox. If said Wee One is old enough to tote a plate o' basketti, said Wee One is old enough to do some tidying. (You'll have to probably redo it, but it'll be easier!) My daughter hasn't done anything like that for a while, I'm glad to say. (She's 42.) Gee, I'm a Bubbeh, we're good at both cleaning up stuff like that AND having Meaningful Discussions about the lack of wisdom that took -- and I love Canada. Sure wusht I could come, dear Rabbitch {sigh}
Gah, indeed!!! Nothing like a little sauce on the toys to make thing interesting. Maybe you'll find some color inspiration in that toy box...
I'm definitely a twat with the camera. Of course, when I get little notes like, 'why do your pics suck?' I like to remind people that it may have something to do with the fact that I make/dye/and manipulate yarn. If I was a photographer, I'd take great pictures of yarn.....Fiber whoring is the best job I know!
It's much too late to have any effect, but if it were my situation, I'd give the child a choice: either she cleans the toy box and toys, or the whole thing goes into the trash. This may confuse her, since mommy has just spent the day making things red on purpose, but it's time she learned that dye is not spaghetti sauce. Also, from then on she gets spaghetti alfredo. Red sauce is for grownups.
Situations like that really call for a dog. ( If it's on the floor or headed that way, it's for the dog and it's ok. ) I am dying or curiosity to know what kind of work you do.
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