I'm still here...

Yes, it’s been a while. A looooonnng while. Between working 7 days, and working on the house in my “spare” time, I’ve been neglecting every other area of my life. Rest assured that all is well here. Mom and dad are doing fine. Emma, Tara and Cooper are all great. Ornery as ever, which is always a good sign. Recently we even passed the three year anniversary of the day we found sweet Cooper McLooper. I think he's happy here, don't you?



Anyway, the house is coming along nicely. Ceilings have been painted, fences have been put up, shed doors have been rebuilt, electrical stuff has been rewired, and lamps have been hung. Of course, none of this could have been done without help from dear old dad. Here is the electrical engineer, himself:



Yes he is, indeed, modeling a “chick magnet” T-shirt. My dear, delusional, dad.

Mom has been very helpful, too, with lots of design advice. Here she is on moving day...



... napping on the sofa, umm, contemplating color schemes and curtain styles. Of course, when I say “moving day” I use that term loosely. I haven’t actually really and truly moved. First I had to get the fence installed for the dogs, but then there were some problems with installation, and the company hasn’t come out to fix it yet. That’s a story for another day, though.

Then there was the problem of a place to sleep. I almost envy the cave dwellers, in their lack of decision making when it comes to decorating and finding a place to sleep. In the civilized world, this is a multi-step process, involving first buying a bed (as I will still have a bedroom at my sister’s house). Done. Then choosing a bedroom. Done. Then picking out a paint color that wouldn’t clash with the carpet. Done. Then actually getting that paint from the can onto the walls.

Not done. :sigh:

Maybe this weekend when I get off work from Glitter World, but maybe not. The painting has to be done before I can arrange for delivery of the bed, because who wants to climb over a bed while trying to paint? I also wanted to replace the (old, nasty, ugly) ceiling fan in that room but it looks like that will have to wait. All spending has come to a screeching halt. My checkbook needs life support after hemorrhaging money over the past month. However, I am proud to say that I have not used a credit card since August 13, 2010. Shocking, isn’t it? If I can’t afford to pay cash for it, I don’t buy it. Living within my means...a concept Congress can’t grasp.

Never fear, though. There are still plenty of no-cost and low-cost things to be done, and first on my list was hanging this lamp:



Isn't it lovely? Mom and dad made this lampshade. Actually made it! Cut the glass, wrapped the pieces, and soldered it all together. They made several cut glass lamps back in the 70s. After this one was finished, they decided they didn’t like the shape, and it was on its way out to the trash. Yes, the trash. Growing up, if a thing wasn't useful or was perceived as lacking in some way, it was put out for trash day. I often wonder what would have happened if any of us kids was handicapped or had any learning disabilities... But I digress. I loved the lamp and couldn't stand to have it tossed out, and even though I didn’t have a place for it at the time, I rescued it from the trash and stowed it under my bed for safe keeping. When I moved in with my sister, I hung it on an enclosed porch, but now it has a place of honor above my dining room table. I knew I would have a place for it someday... I just didn’t know that “someday” would take 30 years, or be so far from civilization!

I know that some people (most of my family, that is) think Fortescue is the ends of the Earth... the back of beyond... but I think it’s just perfect. I’ve met several of my neighbors already, and two of them are knitters! Everyone is so friendly and laid back. If you’re looking for what are traditionally known as the “finer things” in life, like internet access, marginally reliable cell service, trash pickup, mail delivery, or more than 5 television stations, Fortescue is not your kind of place.

If you are looking for a peaceful spot to relax and decompress with a walk on the beach, and don’t mind driving 20 miles (or more) for a gas station or a grocery store, I have a gem of a spot for you.



The people here are so friendly, and everyone has time to sit and chat over a glass of iced tea. The best thing about being here is asking someone for directions to, say, the dump, or a farm stand to buy some corn and tomatoes. You get answers like:

"Head out over the bridge, and go inland for a couple of miles. Make a left at the yellow house with a pool in the back yard. Keep going for a bit, and there will be a deli on your left (that they neglect to mention has been closed for more than 40 years, just in case you were hoping to get a sandwich and some chips), and then a pasture on the right where the cows are always wading in the creek. Make a right, and stay on that road until you see the black lab hanging out on the porch of the brick house, and then make the next left. If you come to the big oak tree that lost a limb a few winters back, you know you’ve gone too far."

Seriously. It is so funny. It makes me want to ask someone for directions even though I don’t need to go anywhere!

OK, enough for this post. For now, I’ll leave you with a video of a new song by the Zac Brown Band. This song perfectly describes the Fortescue way of life! Enjoy!

So much to be thankful for...

I have so much to be thankful for, but I have sweet potatoes to make so will make this short and sweet. I am so very thankful for...

• My new niece! Meet Sophia (being held by my mom). Sophia was born on Tuesday, a couple of weeks early, but mama and baby are doing fine. Sophia is a little bit jaundiced, but they are checking her bilirubin level twice a day and hopefully it will resolve itself without having to go under lights.

Sophia was a little bit fussy, but mom worked her magic and calmed her right down.

• I'm also thankful for three mischievous, out of control, badly behaved, but happy and healthy dogs! (Especially the "healthy" part)

• And last but not least, I am so very thankful that 54 years ago today, these two "kids" said "I do."

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad! I love you more than words can say!

Vermont, Part 2

When we left off on the Whirlwind Trip to Vermont, I had just gotten onto the train. I'm not sure what I expected train travel to be like, but I was pleasantly surprised. After the initial panic when the train started moving and I realized there were no seat belts, I soon realized that there is no need for seat belts. That is, as long as the train car doesn't jump the tracks and go hurtling into a canyon, but we won't go there. In true tourist fashion, I snapped lots of pics from the train, but they fall into two categories, cities and countryside, and the pictures in each category all look alike, so I will only bore you with one of each.

City: I think this is New York City. Yes, I'm pretty sure it's NYC. Either that, or Newark, NJ.

Countryside: This is somewhere in Connecticut. Or Massachusetts. Could it be Vermont? Who knows, but it's pretty.

After too many hours on the train in which I got too little knitting done because I was constantly gawking out the window and taking pictures, I arrived in Montpelier, Vermont. It was dark, raining, and the train station was little more than a cattle shed, but that all added to the charm. Of course, it was great to see mom and dad there waiting for me, and we all piled into the car for the long drive to the lake.

I insist on calling it a lake, even though it's really called "Joe's Pond", but if that is a pond, than Mt. Everest is just a hill. It's a lovely spot, and would be absolutely perfect if it didn't get tons of snow in the winter. Oh, and cell phone service and wifi would be nice. Not absolutely necessary, but nice. I took along my laptop and cell phone, so I had what amounted to be a big paperweight (laptop) and a small paperweight (cell phone).
Here is where mom and dad were for the week.

View of the house from the "road" (and I use that term loosely).

View of the house from one of the docks:View of the lake from the porch:
View of the best parents in the world:
Stay tuned for more Vermont fun, including a marriage proposal...

Shedders and Sweaters

I took an extra-long weekend vacation, Thursday through Monday, and it's been great. Not much was accomplished, other than some knitting (socks, of course), some fishing, and some heart-stopping moments of panic. More on that later, but just so you know, my little Prius can really spin some gravel out of the driveway when it needs to get going fast!

First with the knitting, no photos, but I have almost completed the April's Brown Bag Sock Yarn socks. I started them last Monday, and in one week, I finished one sock and am past the heel on the second. That might be a record. For me, anyway.

Next for the fishing. My sister and I have gone fishing several times over the past five days - just off the beach at Fortescue, but it's perfect for my sister, who gets to fish, and for me, as I don't like boats or fishing, but like to walk the beach or sit and knit. Of course, when I say "beach" I use that term loosely. It's not a beach as in white sand and palm trees and cabana boys bring you fancy drinks with little paper umbrellas. Nope. This is the beach at Fortescue.

Not a cabana boy in sight. :sigh:

Still, Friday was my sister's birthday, and as a special birthday present, this big boy jumped onto her line.

He was a 26" Striper, but as the minimum is 28" this year in New Jersey, he went back into the water and lived to get hooked another day. Still, he was a nice birthday surprise for her.

Today, we went back down to Fortescue for one last attempt to get a legal Striper, but again fell short...literally. This big boy is 24". Lots of fun, though!

This brings me to the title for this post. My sister has always wanted to own a bait shop (I know....eeeeewwwww....bait!) and I said I'd help out as long as it was a bait and yarn shop. This morning on the drive to Fortescue we came up with a great name for it. Shedders and Sweaters! Does everyone know what a shedder is? It's what they call Blue Claw Crabs in the process of molting and growing a new shell. Fishermen call them shedders, sheds, peelers, or busters, but in a fancy seafood restaurant they're called "soft shell" crabs. People eat them, legs, guts and all. Can I get another "eeeeewwwww"?


Now for the heart-stopping panic. Yesterday morning, Easter Sunday, the phone rings. I see on the caller ID that it's mom, so pick up and say "Happy Easter". Mom says "Can you come over right now?" Now, there is a certain urgency in her voice when something is wrong, and from mom's tone of voice, something was very, very wrong. I say "Yes - be right there" and mom hangs up.

I slammed the laptop shut, jumped up, ran around looking for my car keys, and in 30 seconds or less my sister and I were running out of the house headed for the car. Mom and dad are just around the corner--you can see their house from attic windows in this house, but it seemed like hours before my little Prius got us over to mom and dad's. In what I'm sure was just a few minutes, all kinds of horrible scenarios ran through my mind. OK, mom was talking normally and knew who I was, so she didn't have a stroke, but it has been confirmed that it was TIAs which put her in the hospital for four days last month. Maybe she fell? Where is dad? Did he have a stroke? Heart attack? Is there a burgler in the house? Axe murderer? Maybe it's Bessie...is she sick? Did she get out of the house? That's the best we can hope for - it's Bessie and she is out in the backyard and they need help catching her.

Anyway, my sister and I get to mom and dad's, run up the steps and in the house and are confronted with......silence. No sign of anything going on. No blood and guts on the floor. We're running through the house calling "hello? hello????" and finally hear mom saying "In here", which was the back bedroom. On the way down the hall, I see Bessie, so I know it's not her. It's mom or dad. Somebody is sick. Call 9-1-1. We burst into the bedroom, and mom is sitting on the edge of her bed, in her new Easter dress, and says "I can't get these earrings in, and your father can't either."

Yup, the heart-stopping emergency was that she couldn't put her earrings through the holes in her ears. The day before, while making potato salad for Easter dinner, she nearly cut the top of her thumb off, which necessitated a trip to the ER. (On a side note, no potato salad for me, thank-you-very-much.) Without the use of her thumb, she couldn't get her earrings in. After I my breathing returned to normal and my hands stopped shaking, I got her earrings in. Crisis averted.

Birthday Girls!

The birthday girls were up bright and early on their birthday morning. Why are they staring at me like that?

French Toast!We love french toast!
It's not an everyday thing to have such a nice breakfast here in Brit Knitter-ville. I'm lucky if I have the time to grab a bowl of cereal. Today, my sister made a special breakfast for all of the birthday girls. Yes, I had some... it's my birthday, too!

I normally don't like much of a fuss. I mean, after a certain age, it seems kind of silly. I wouldn't have said anything here, but I just got back from dinner at mom and dad's house, and I had to show you what dad did for me:

It's a table for my craft nook! He put wheels on it, so I can move it all around. Isn't he the best?

Here is a "before" shot of my impossibly messy craft nook with a wobbly card table that only has two good legs and it is constantly collapsing and spilling everything on the floor:
And this is the "after" shot.
Still messy? Yes. But look at that great table! I'm a lucky girl!

Special Guest for Dogs on Thursday

Emma and Tara had a special guest over tonight. This is little Alexis Sophia, and she is 5 weeks old. Emma thinks babies smell great. Tara thinks babies are a little scary and did not want to get close enough to get her picture taken with little Lexi.


Mom came over, too. Just try and keep her away from a baby. It can't be done. She has extra special radar and knows when there is a baby within a 5 mile radius.

Even dad came to see the baby. Anyone who knows him will be shocked at this picture:
Yes, that is dad holding an actual baby. A baby that has the potential to leak fluids (or worse) from any given orifice. This is the man that says that baby slobber is like battery acid - it ruins everything it touches. This must be a very special baby, indeed.

So Proud - So Very Proud!

This is a very special edition of Dogs on Thursday. I am so proud of Emma, I could burst! Now, I love Emma and Tara will all my heart, and while they can do no wrong in my eyes, I am aware that not everyone is pleased to have a dog jumping up on them in excitement, or welcomes sloppy wet kisses the way that I do. I have raised my dogs with a shocking lack of discipline, according to some people, and you know who you are, Mom and Dad. My father has often said it's a good thing I never had kids, because they would be the most spoiled brats on the block. Guilty as charged!

Anyway, what did Emma do to make me so proud? She sat. Yes, that's right. Emma sat. She put her little hiney on the floor. Dad said to her "Emma...sit" and she sat. Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles. I was so proud of her, I thought I was going to burst at the seams.

Now for a little background. When I was a kid, we had a very special dog. Her name was Samantha. "Sam" for short. Now, she wasn't our first dog. We had a Basset Hound when I was really small, but then we moved to a house without a fenced-in yard and Cleo had to go to a new home. He was just gone one day when I came home from first grade that day. Oh, how I cried.

But I digress. We got Sam from the ASPCA when I was about 12 years old. She looked just like a tiny Lassie, and had four brothers that were all black and white. If she wasn't a border collie, or at least mostly border collie, I'm a monkey's uncle. Sam was so very smart, and just lived to please you. Especially my dad. He taught Sam all kinds of commands, and Sam would respond instantly. No hesitation. If Sam did anything wrong, she would be so upset about it, she would throw up. Literally. Her most frequent sin was to get up on my parents' bed while we were all gone to church. There would be the tell-tale hollow between the pillows, and dad would just say "Sam...what did you do?", and Sam would guiltily slink off and invariably vomit in a corner somewhere.

Anyway, I suppose you could say that dad and I have differing philosophies. The pendulum has swung to the opposite point in it's trajectory, so to speak. As long as the dogs are safe and happy, I'm happy. They want to get up on the furniture? No problem. Sleep on the bed? Let me get you an extra pillow. Are you a little chilly? Come on under the covers. Words like "sit", "stay", "down", and "roll over" mean absolutely nothing to them.

Now, as much as I love my dogs, I love my parents, too. Oddly enough, though, they do not enjoy being jumped on by undisciplined hooligans when they walk in the door. For that reason, I have made a conscious effort over the past six or eight months to think about trying to convince Emma that she might want to, perhaps, "sit" when someone politely requests it of her.

First, Emma and I watched several episodes of "The Dog Whisperer" on TV. I even went so far as to purchase Cesar Milan's book "Cesar's Way" and read it to Emma.



Cesar does some amazing things with dogs that have severe behavioral problems, but his methods seem a little, well, harsh, for my sweet girls.

For my birthday this year, my good friend Pat gave me Tamar Gellar's book "The Loved Dog".


Now, her methods are more....loving. That's more like it! Yes, love them! Love them, and they will try to please you. I just had to do a little tweaking, and viola, after a few short months, Emma will almost always sit when asked. Or at least she will give it serious thought. Of course, she will not sit on a cold hard floor. No, her tushie needs a rug to sit upon. And, a treat. Never forget the all-important treat. If she is going to humor me by doing something so silly as to obey a command, she darn well better get a cookie out of it.

All of this brings me to last night. Last night will be burned into my memory for all time. I get home from work, feed the dogs, put their bowls in the dishwasher, and turn it on. I look around the kitchen, thinking about what to have for my own dinner, and the dishwasher starts making this unholy racket. My first thought was "call dad" My second thought was "no, you are an intelligent, able, human being, and can figure this out for yourself".

So after I told that second thought to "stuff it" and called dad, he came right over. (What a good dad, huh?) Well, Emma just loves her Grampa, and nearly turns herself inside out when he comes to visit. She is absolutely certain that Grampa comes over expressly to be showered with lots of wet doggy kisses. For some odd reason, he seems to play at being aloof, and sometimes tells her to "Go Away", but this does not deter the ever faithful and loving Emma. The only thing that kept him from being attacked while he was on the floor looking at the innards of the dishwasher was a fairly sturdy gate across the doorway. After dad finished diagnosing the problem, he stood up, and Emma was allowed back into the kitchen. She fairly danced around his feet, wiggling and worming around, just aching to jump up and give him kisses. I said to him "Why don't you tell her to sit?"

In that instant, I said to myself, "What have you done?" It seemed like everything went in slow motion. My mouth went dry, my pulse started to race. Dad looked at me as though I had grown a third head on my shoulders, then looked at Emma and said "Emma...sit". Her little butt dropped right to the floor. I was never so proud in my whole life. It might have been coincidence, and she was getting ready to sit anyway. It might have been a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing, but I don't care. My Emma SAT.

Emma sat down for my dad. Oh, happy day! Who would have thought I would be so happy to have a broken dishwasher?

What I did on my vacation (warning: picture-heavy post)

I can't believe it is Sunday already, and I have to go back to work in the morning. I've tried working, and I've trying being on vacation, and I much prefer being on vacation. But, I have to keep the pups in vittles, so... off to work I go.

This has been a weird week. In one sense, it was steeped in all things Jane Austen. In another sense, it was full of unsuitable activities for the average practicing vegetarian.

First for the Jane Austen. I watched Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility on TV this week. The 1995 versions, as opposed to the many other adaptations that have been made. 1995 was a very good year for Austen remakes. P&P with Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy - be still my heart. S&S with Hugh Grant and Emma Thompson. I have seen this film at least 30 times, and cry like a baby every time Edward... well, I don't want to ruin it for anyone who has not seen it. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it.

We also went to the theater and saw the new movie Becoming Jane. Cried at this one, too, but had to try and restrain myself because I was out in public. It's not like I was sitting next to a stranger and blubbered on his sleeve. I was seated between my mother & sister, but still had to choke back the tears. Highly recommend it, also. The movie, not the crying.

Now for the non-vegetarian part. Mom has always wanted to go to Havre de Grace, Maryland. It's a nice, quaint little town on the Chesapeake Bay, or maybe the Susquehanna River, I'm not sure which. Anyway, there was water. We stopped to look out at the water on a public pier, and met the nicest people. They were fishing, and happened to catch a catfish while we were there. Mom, S and I were all ooohing and aaahing over the fish, and, thinking they found an appreciative audience, proceeded to show us a lovely beast they caught earlier in the day. It was a 2 foot catfish. Here is the nice young man who caught it. You might not be able to tell from this picture, but there is, indeed, a big catfish in that basket. It was looking at me with sad eyes, begging me to rip that basket out of the boy's hands and set him free to go back to his catfish family in the river. I didn't, and that fish ended up on the dinner table, I'm sure.

Then we went to the Havre de Grace Decoy Museum. I was thinking it would be full of lovely bird carvings. WRONG! There were a lot of carvings, but they were carved into bird-shaped lures to entice unsuspecting feathered friends into what they think is a nice place to stop and rest on their long journey, but then before you know it they are under attack from men with guns! In a word - DECOYS!

Why did I not see this coming? There were also lovely displays of boats and blinds and guns. Yuck. Now, please don't comment on how fees from hunting licenses, etc. are used to preserve wetlands, and how hunters are doing a service by "harvesting" the "crop" of ducks or geese or whatever so that they don't starve to death over the long, cold winter. I've heard it all, and "to each his own." I just think the museum's name should clearly reflect what you will see when you enter. What's that? Oh, right. The Havre de Grace Decoy Museum. Never mind.


To top things off, on Friday we went to Cabela's in Hamburg, Pa. Friends were going out there to buy an outboard motor, so my sister and I tagged along.

This also falls into the category of "Why did I not see this coming?" Sure, they had some boating things, but the store was filled hunting supplies. The worst part was the stuffed animals. Not the cute cuddly kind made out of fake fur & polyester stuffing. The real, honest-to-goodness, used-to-be-alive kind of stuffed animals. Hundreds of them. Truly. Geese suspended in V-formation hanging from the ceiling, a safari area with an elephant & zebras & a bunch of other animals, and in the center of the store, a huge 2-storey mountain with every kind of bear and elk and deer you can imagine. It was so horrifying, I couldn't look away from it. At one point it felt like the blood was draining out of my body & I started to get chills. Icky. Anyway, I went to the dog supplies area and between the doggy hunting vests and "training" collars, I found some all-natural cookies and bought them for my girls.


In between these fun activities, we did manage to get out in the kayaks several times this week. We tried a new lake, which was nice, but came back to our favorite the last few trips. One day we saw a pair of Bald Eagles. Yes, the former endangered species. Right here in southern New Jersey. It was amazing. I didn't have the camera with me that day, and they were too far to show up on camera, anyway.

Yesterday I did take the camera out with me to shoot some pictures of the progress on my most recent pair of Jaywalkers.Yes, finally some knitting content. But that's it. No more knitting. Instead, look what came right up to my kayak while I was juggling the camera and the sock:

Can you see how close they were? That's the kayak and the paddle in some of those pictures. Amazing. They are such huge creatures, yet so graceful. I was absolutely blown away by how beautiful they are. (I know this seems like a lot of pictures, but I took 74 shots of the swans, so this is a very small percentage!)

One Sweet Ride!

Take a look at this baby:

Not bad for a trailer that used to just haul trash to the dump. Yes, that is correct. We have no trash pickup out here in the boondocks. We haul trash, recyclables, etc. to the dump ooops, I mean the "Convenience Center" ourselves. Hard to believe, isn't it? Anyway, the "Trash Trailer" has now been promoted to the "Kayak Trailer". My sister S and I helped Dad convert it so it is just right for transporting kayaks. See?

Of course, when I say we "helped", I really mean we mostly stayed out of the way while he cut all of the wood, bolted it all together, put new tires on the trailer, re-did the wiring, you know, stuff like that. We DID do the carpeting on the 2x4s and 2x6s, though. Custom upholstery - that's something I can add to my resume!

It's a good vacation when you go to LL Bean three times in one week!

It's Friday already. How can that be? This week has just flown by. The days go so much quicker when you're on vacation than they do when you're at work. It was a productive week, but some fun was squeezed in here and there, too!

The most important thing we did was to take Emma and Tara to the vet for some full-spectrum bloodwork. Since they have now been exclusively on homemade food for a little over three months, we thought it was a good idea to see if they are getting all of the nutrients they need. Everything came back fine. Tara's triglycerides are a little high, but not high enough to worry about. They both look healthy, but I feel much better now that I know they ARE healthy.

We also saw the Harry Potter movie (good....in my opinion it's too scary for kids, but good), went out to breakfast with Mom, and went to the closest LL Bean store...three times...in one week. It's almost an hour away, so I would say we get there probably three times in a year. Not this week. Three times. One week. The thing is, I had ordered a kayak (not from LL Bean - big mistake!) two weeks ago, which was on back-order until the 17th. My sister S has been looking at kayaks for over a year, and thought it would be a great time to buy one now so we could go out on the lake together. Hence the trip to LL Bean. We actually went to several other stores, but none compared in the selection of kayaks or knowledge & helpfulness of the employees at LL Bean. She did not buy a kayak on the first trip, because you have to mull these things over.

On the second trip to LL Bean, she bought this one:

In the meantime, I am waiting patiently for my (non-LL Bean) kayak to arrive. To make a long story short, after several calls to the manufacturer, it turns out they were not able to ship the kayak this week. They promised that it would be shipped four days ago, and now they can almost, pretty much, kind of guarantee shipment some time next week. Next week, when I am back at work. Now, we have a lake on the grounds where I work, but I think it would be frowned upon if I were to bring my kayak to work.

This morning I cancelled my order, and we went back to LL Bean, where I bought this one:

This is what it looks like in the lake:

This is what it looks like after someone tips it over while trying to get out of it:

Note to self: keep the bottom of the boat pointing toward the bottom of the lake at all times.