Large turkeys

In my ongoing quest to attain dye-goddess-hood, I've been scouring local thrift stores and eBay for a crock pot. Actually, what I really wanted was this, but there was no way I was going to pay close to $100 for something to play with (my Yankee-Puritan heart shrivels up a little bit just thinking about it).

Last week I stuck a gold mine. There, on Craigslist, was an 18-qt roaster oven, brand new, never used, for $25. Several emails and a few hours later, I was the proud owner of an important dyeing tool. But the fun really started when I took it home.

Devil helped me unpack the box, and then decided to test out the capacity.

Boo was more interested in chocolate chip cookies, but decided to try it out herself to see what all the fuss was about.

I'm not sure it was her thing. Suffice to say, an 18-qt roaster oven will hold either an average size 3.5 year old, a largish 1.5 year old, or as much undyed fiber as you can shake a stick at. Like that merino hiding in the back there,

and all that stuff around the speaker on the left there,

not to mention the two pounds of Targhee I have sitting around. Whee!

Color me entertained

Is it just me or does anyone else wonder if Sarah Palin realizes that, when she refers to a "shining city on a hill" (and John Winthrop predates Reagan's use of the term by approximately 350 years), she's actually refering to this Bastion of Liberal Elitism? OK, maybe it wasn't that liberal in the 1600s - you know those wacky Puritans - but it is certainly seen that way these days. Enquiring minds want to know.

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A fine example of Love and Logic parenting in action:

A couple of weeks ago, Devil and I had a disgreement about getting dressed. Which is to say, I wanted her to put her clothes on and she was more interested in running around naked and hiding from me. Finally, I laid down this ultimatum:

"You can come and put your clothes on now, or you can take them to daycare in a bag."

Sure enough, ten minutes later she was getting strapped in to her carseat starkers, and off we went for the day.

About an hour later, I got a call from Ironman to inform me that, upon arrival at daycare, Devil hopped out of the car with nary a care in the world, and then decided she'd put on her shoes because her feet were cold. She made it all the way through the daycare, dropped Boo off at her class, and walked in to her class before she finally deigned to get dressed. Thankfully, the daycare staff chose to be entertained rather then concerned, and did not call CPS or the police for the blatent display of girlie parts parading through the center.

I was a bit concerned about the success of my tactic, but...last week when Devil and I had this exact same conversation, complete with an identical ultimatum, she immediately came over and got dressed. What's a little fatherly mortification when it works, hunh?

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Why I love fall: three pairs of handknit socks and one new sweater worn this week.

From your mouth to Legolas' ears kiddo, and I am an asshole

Ironman left yesterday to go to the UK for a few days, so I'm playing the single mom thing. Last night, Devil insisted that she didn't want to take bath. But she did come and sit on the bathroom floor while Boo flung water all over the place. And that's when I found out that Devil has Hollywood connections.

D: Mama, I saw that man at the race this morning (pointing to the Pirates of the Caribbean Kleenex box that I bought without realizing I was exposing my children to Marketing).
P: Did you sweetie? (grabbing bar of soap out of Boo's mouth)
D: Yeah. He was walking down the street.

I look up and realize that Devil is pointing directly to Orlando Bloom's head shot.

D: He was very old and kind.
P: Was he? (Old? Crap, what does that make me?)
D: Yeah (with a knowing nod). He's having a party.
P: He is? (having ideas about exactly what kind of party Orlando Bloom would throw)
D: I'm going.
P: Really?
D: Yeah. You can come too.
P: Yippee!

So I'm going to hang with the Elf Guy. Cool. Now if only I can figure out how to stay up later then oh say 10:30 pm, it should be a good time!

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Now for the second part of tonight's title:

Before I had children, I'd hear all sorts of anecdotal evidence that babies make you dumb. And I have to admit that I had a few Absent Minded Professor tendencies before Devil and Boo made their appearance. But tonight takes the cake. In the midst of arriving home (unloading car, getting two grumpy kids into the house, extracting soggy Cheerios from car seats), my phone rings. It's someone I've been meaning to/trying to talk to for several weeks now. We had a brief chat since I was in the midst of swirling chaos, but we agreed to talk later this evening. All well and good. Except...

I can't find my phone. It's gone. Kaput. Vanished. Like it never existed. I put it down somewhere and it has decided that it would be a fun game to go invisible. So S, if you're reading this, apparantly I'm a complete idiot, and I still really suck. I will try to get a hold of you tomorrow sometime, and a million apologies. I owe you!

Victory!

A good combo: the fastest pair of socks ever evah,

and one of the biggest blowouts in Finals history.

Sock details: leftover yarn from a Christmas present some years back, size 1 needles, cast on 8 stitches, worked 4 rows in stockinette, then picked up 8 stitches along each long edge and 2 stitches along short edges. Increased up to 48 stitches, worked even for 4.5 inches, did a short row heel, knit a few more rows, and added a picot bind off. Short, sweet, to the point. Gotta like it.

A long weekend in pictures

Devil and Dora hit the Zoo.

Boo enjoys some quality gardening time

Uncle makes a surprise, last minute trip to Houston to fill up the Dora-void in his life

There was fingerpainting,

And game attempts at coloring

All in all, a lovely weekend.

The Turkish Walrus pdf is ready - I'm working on getting it up on Ravelry as a free download, but if you need a copy soonest, email me at the contact address listed in the sidebar, and I'll send one along.