Life's a Stitch

Something smelled pretty rotten in our van the other day. First is started out smelling reminiscently of nail polish remover. Then it was a nose stinging tang and I knew I had to figure it out. Ah ha! A runaway can (I use the term loosely since they are now made of cardboard, no longer the metal ones I used as hair rollers in high school) of orange juice concentrate. It fermented to the point of bursting, seeping into every possible crevice of that vehicle’s floor. After a thorough cleaning we’re into smell control. We are a house of extremely allergic people, especially when it comes to artificial scents. Luckily we have discovered some baking soda pucks, the name of which escapes me. When we bought our used Jetta they were miraculous in eliminating the watermelon scented pine tree air "freshener" the previous owner had hanging from the mirror.

On the subject of scents, why would anyone use a food scent to mask an unappealing odor? I was in Wal-Mart and noticed toilet paper holders with an apple cinnamon scent. I’m sorry, I don’t want to mingle bathroom smells with something I like to eat. How about you? They also had vanilla ones recently. Excuse me while I puke into my lemon scented toilet.

On the knitting front these are various bits of my flower basket bag. Notice, however, that there are no photos of the bag itself; having been frogged yet again. I decided to edit the pattern to make the bag slightly larger, to do the handles with a corking tool, and to save myself time by knitting in the round. There’s probably a reason it’s not written to be knit in the round. It is a very confusing pattern by itself, much more so with knitter inflicted amendments.

Chuck update: Good news – the IV bag comes off today, and will be substituted with oral antibiotics, but the PICC line stays in until he is infection free for a while. And it’s back to work on Friday. He expressed pleasure in anticipation of losing the pump he has been carrying around. It was like a large, heavy Tamagotchi strapped to him, beeping insistently when it needed care or refilling. Some of us women can relate to this concept after suddenly being delivered of a weight of the nine month variety.