Despite his reluctance to do so, Mr. Bryant turned 18 today. His friend’s mom made the cake. She’s a nurse, hence its anatomical correctness. Nobody adequately prepared me for parenthood. Happy Birthday, little tomato.

In my early childhood years, late night TV horror films were produced in black and white. They allowed your brain to fill in the colour of blood. The two that influenced the nightmares of my life, watched prior to the age of six with a cousin, late at night when everyone else was sensibly asleep:…

I’m not going to disguise this as anything other than plain old complaining. Complaint #1: Why is it, that I can’t wear an article of brand new clothing without staining it? Picture it: last night, new pair of khaki’s, artichokes for dinner, margarine spillage. Followed by applications of: Folex instant spot remover, Spot Shot instant…

We hang out with knitters, but besides the projects we see on blogs and Ravelry, how many do you actually see in the wild, up close and personal? Of all the thousands of Baby Surprise Jackets, have you ever seen one on a real baby, one of which you haven’t knitted? I’ve been thinking about…

I went to the endocrinologist last week. During the late 60’s I had radiation treatments on my neck for severe childhood eczema, a therapy now related to a high incidence of thyroid cancer. Those of us formerly "irradiated children" need to go for regular ultrasounds to keep track of things. He opens the chart and…

The boy babe of my brood of three saw me taking an internet quiz "What kind of flower are you?" " Poison ivy," he quips. He is confident in his ability to make me laugh. Good thing, another time, another family, that response might elicit a swift smack across his currently valuable kisser. His father,…

OK, this morning I found myself saying I’m going to buy yarn for three more projects and then I’m going to stop." Right. I’ve heard that kind of thinking before. Many moons ago I used to work in a Methadone clinic.  Classic addictive behaviour. No disrespect to those suffering from chemical addiction, but the thinking…

It’s not the fact that I’m on Clapotis #3: It’s that colour rut thing happening again: I’m not complaining. Even though the colours are the same, the blending keeps it interesting. Guess who smells looks good, but feels miserable about it? What price glory? I think it’s the dumb bow that’s bugging her. Too bad…

A make out scene. My son, the 17 year old actor, is getting paid for up to three days, to utter two lines and make out with a girl. Up to three days at say, $555 a day. My friend’s husband has offered to do it for $500. Like a good mom I’ve checked with…

OK, all you English/speech teacher types, you know who you are, whine zone ahead. Doesn’t matter if you’re retired or working I’m sure you’ve noticed the newest trend in the spoken word. A number of years back it was up-talking that felt like nails on a chalkboard? Every sentence transformed into a question? Then "like"…