The baby is napping. Everyone else is off working or playing or visiting junk yards. (That last would be the husbeast. He is truly driving me batshit. He's obsessed with fixing everything wrong with the Suburban that he's noticed on the drive here. It's a 1991 vehicle. There's no fricking way.) I am thinking I should get off the computer and go knit something (row 24 on the lace doily - no way I'm getting it done this week, why do I always set myself idiotic goals?) but of course here I am.
The one nice thing about the trip was driving through the Blue Ridge Mountains. They're beautiful, and I really miss mountains, living in the flat-as-a-pancake low country on the coast. I wanted to take photos (always the best for my readers, right?) but it was overcast and foggy and rainy, so we're hoping the drive home will be better. I'm also hoping to get out and take some photos of some genuine Ohio cow pastures to subject you guys to... why, I don't really know. Visiting where I grew up is always a love/hate thing for me. It's soothing, in a way, to be back to my childhood, and in a way it reminds me of all the reasons I bailed and moved out of town at 18. But the family's here for both the husbeast and me, and we want the baby to grow up knowing them.
So here we are.
Several people asked what Hawaiian roadkill is, in the comments. There really isn't any. Hawaii doesn't run to large animals, just pigs, and they stay off the roads. (At least on Oahu.) I would say it's the occasional cat or bird, but not every mile like the deer are in the Carolinas sometimes. (What a happy subject.) Hawaii also has mongoose, but those little suckers are usually too fast and too smart to get hit.
My niece has had hairdresser training and I asked her where to get pink hair dye, and she's going to hook me up. (After ten minutes of "Why? WHY do you want your hair pink??") Right now it's kind of pitifully pinkish-ugh colored. The reason it's not white or pink in my Blogger profile photo is, that's an old picture and I had my hair dyed brown for it. Plus most of the back of my head still IS brown - it's the front around my hair line that's turning white. In streaks. So I look like the Bride of Frankenstein, or a skunk. Is it any wonder I go for colors?
So. Knitting. I'm gonna knit today. Not nap, or vegetate. Knit. Yes. That's it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Well, now I'm torn. I reeeeeally hated spending $980.65 getting my truck fixed. And it might have been nice to have a husbeast to cobble it back together at the dump when needed. But I'm not fully convinced that the "annoying the crap" out of me factor would be worth it...
You know, I hate to bring this up - but I don't think the streaks will accept dye. I had a teacher in high school who had this HUGE streak in her hair (totally skunk-like) and she dyed her hair every freaking color on the planet (limited at that time to 'normal' hair colors) and that damn streak stayed pure white. She was sure entertaining, though.
Post a Comment