You know what I mean, some stories just don’t translate to blogdom. I’ll give it a try, though. This one gets filed under out of the mouths minds of babes. Baby boys, that is, age 17. You’ve got the mindset, here’s the story.
The other night Chuck and I were discussing my last post. The conversation led to an innocent enough comment on breast size and the French saying about "more than a champagne glass is too much." Our little pitcher, at 17 has big ears, which apparently perked up at the sound of a breastly conversation. From the other room we hear "I don’t get it." I could see him through the doorway with a look of confusion. He continues, "aren’t champagne glass those tall skinny ones?" I crack up knowing his 17-year-old brain is picturing the contortions necessary to do that sort of measurement. We explain to him that in the old days of our teenagehood, most champagne glasses weren’t of the flute variety. "Oh I know," says he who knows much, "they’re the ones that look like a martini glass without the point. Now I get it!" Maybe he knows too much.
I have no knitting pictures, just look at the last one posted, because after four days of knitting I have made no progress. This is a two steps forward one step backward project. Maybe this week it was four steps backwards. Instead, I’ll rely on cousin Lena’s eye-candy photos taken at Butchart Gardens in Victoria a couple of weeks back. The gardens were planted by the wife of a quarry owner, many years ago, to disguise the ugliness of the mined land. It has its own micro-climate that produces spectacular blooms. In fact, one of the gardeners told us that he has taken plants to his own home, 20 minutes away, only to have them fail due to the differences in climate.
Life's a Stitch 
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