In The Pink

It's time

While I feel like I earned 30 a long time ago, it's not really a fair statement to those of my friends that have been there.  Let's just say that I turned in my rockin' twenties sometime amidst shooting two kids out of my privates, getting married, having a mortgage and raising said kids, all before I hit 25.

So today marks that day, when I finally cross that threshhold, into what I think is an awesome decade for women in general, hopefully for me in particular, and to that I say halle-fucking-lujah.

No fear

I was initially scared it would be too Louise Brooks.

But I actually think it's more Mrs. Mia Wallace.

Of course my kids think I look like Velma Dinkley.

I'll settle for the style, dance moves and brain from each.

Time to make the donuts

I think it's fair to say that I am obsessed with donuts.  I'm not sure what it is- my first home being in walking distance of the Original Donut Conglomerate, the fact that I can pretend that they're bagels, their amazing pairing with coffee, or their involvement in one of the best kid's books ever- they're just awesome.  However, starting a few years ago, there is not a single Dunkin Donuts in my entire state (and they're selling gingerbread lattes now- are they trying to break my heart?).

I don't feel like I can properly convey the enormity of this tragedy.  There all you Easterners are, donuts running free through the streets, while out here we're stuck with Donut Seeds (to their credit, they are amazing warm) and a wannabe (to be honest, in a side by side comparison, they are probably exactly the same as DD, but their colors aren't pink, orange, and brown, so fuck 'em).

So, instead, I console myself with this hat (the Basic Cable from Stitch N Bitch Nation, knit using Lamb's Pride).  Yes, I may look like I'm ready to hand Margaux her iced with skim and splenda, toss off a postpartum hot cocoa and donut to Wendy, via Robby, let Lola pee in my bathroom while she's in route to her next client and beware the wrath of Maryse, lest any dairy lighten her dark, dark blend.  I don't care.  I like to think of it as a little knit Secret.  If I knit it, it will come.

You give me fever

When you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight

Fever, in the morning

Fever all through the night

My children have reached that all important milestone, scissor fever.  Baby Pink is definitely the worst offender (not pictured:  a stuffed animal and small chunk of the back of her hair), but Junior Pink decided to help me out the other day when I mentioned trimming his hair behind the ears.  So, in the vein of work it if you've got it, we spent last Saturday night making pom poms.  I bought a set of the Clover ones and actually, I think I'm more obsessed than the kiddos.

We used only leftovers, and while it's true that the yarn could have been used to make squares for charity, or something that seemed a little less wasteful, it was way more fun than I bargained for.

Sadly, it seemed that yarn behaved in pomlandia the same way it does in knitting- nice yarns make nice pom poms, while the free yarn that resembles postal twine in drag is no better as a pom pom than it would be as any knitted item.  The Microspun that I had, though, really split up (shown in the foreground, dark pink and white) and made for super poms, even if I'm not sure I would ever willingly knit with it in this lifetime.

Luckily, there is a practical application (aside from the pom pom stand Junior wants to set up- I tried to explain the whole supply/demand issue, but it fell on deaf ears)- I did make one for a new knit, to be revealed soon.  Now go forth and pom.

Thankful

I am thankful that even though I haven't posted in a month, my blog has yet to go blank.

I am thankful that my family is so understanding and allowed me to have an all soup/stew Thanksgiving, as I can't imagine eating turkey ever again in my life.

I am thankful that I have two weeks left of my twenties to get all of my nonsense out, or at least pick out my new favorite excuse for irrational behavior.

I am thankful for all of my friends, new and old, who think that I am just the right amount of Cathi.

I am thankful that Nip/Tuck has returned to it's trashiest (but not in a 'I'm reconstructing my dead sister's body so that I can be with her in a Flowers in the Attic kind of way' way) best.

I am thankful for my health and body, even though those four boxes of White Fudge Oreos seem to have planted on my thighs.

I am thankful that even though the closest restaurant to my house is a truck stop, the local liquor store is carrying Sofia minis.

I am thankful for my mom, who always made it all look so easy.

Although 2006 and 2007 have been some of my least favorite years, I am so thankful for all that they have brought me, and the chance to experience it all.