I will not hide that I have my ups and downs and that little things can get me bent out of shape. There is something about Bostonians and cars. Really! They wake up, probably all nice and pleasant, dress up quietly, so as not to wake their sleeping children up, they drink the coffee lovingly prepared by their spouse, they get dressed, paying attention to the details, after all this is one of the most European cities in America, they give a kiss good-bye, they close the door, and go to open the door of their car. And there, at that very moment something happens. They go completely insane. Nothing can stop them anymore. They will go as fast as they can out of their spot, they will zoom away, and they will get there, before the other million people who are posessed by the same demon. They will drive, at full speed, up one way streets. By the way, school buses are not exempt from that either. They will ignore all lights. When parked and trying to get out, they will bump the car in front and the car in the back. When you are crossing, they will show not intent of slowing down, but rather honk at you madly, and swerve around you. Bostonians know no white line. If they miss an exit, no problem, they go across all the lanes, in a mad dash to make that exit!!! They have to be under some sort of magic spell. They will stop at nothing to get the car going, and it can sometimes be a very difficult thing. A few weeks ago we had a snow storm, followed by rain, and then the temperature dropped. Everything froze. The cars, parked along the streets, had about a foot of completely frozen snow around them. I saw women, in high heels, with their little Louis Vuitton purses, pulling little hammers out of their purses, and delicately trying to "ting-ting-ting" hammer the ice. I saw people sit in their cars pushing on the pedal madly to get the car to jump out of its ice cage. I was also saw people dig their car out, but only to bury the car in from of them. Don't think that I just stand there and do nothing. I actually help. This poor man, was desperate, he could not open the car door, and was hopolessly blowing on the key hole, and I got him hot water to try and thaw the lock. The lock thawed, and without as much as a thank you, he sat in the car, and turned out to be the one who tried to make his car jump out of the ice!
While all this goes on, I sit in my comfy chair, a cup of coffee by my side, a pair of socks on the needles, and I watch. Sometimes I have to get up, knock on the window, in particular when a posessed driver starts dumping all the ice and snow in front on my front steps, which I just spent time cleaning in the freezing weather!
Enough of cars for today.
The living room is going to take a little longer than I thought. I managed to finish the second coat on the two walls. That leaves me with a lot of trim.Oh well, I guess there is no rush. It's not like John Kerry is going to drop by for a visit any time soon!
My mother in law's second sock is at the toe, but I don't know what happened to my needle! I left the sock on the kitchen counter last night to go for a walk with Rolfe, and when I cam back the needle was completely bent. I asked the kids, but nobody seems to know anything about it. It almost looks like they did not even know I knit! The conversation sounded kind of like this: "Did something happen to my knitting while I was out?" Response: "What knitting?". "You know, the socks for Inge." "No, I don't know, where were they?" "In the kitchen." " I disn't see them there, and I didn't go to the kitchen." Now if only one of the children repeated these words to me, I could tell which one had a little something to do with the socks, but they all repeat the same thing. I should not have had them all read the Three Musketeers!
Talking about musketeers, makes me think of super heroes, and I think I'll just end my post today with a picture of Skye as "Super Grandma!"