Shopping with my sissy

I love to shop with my sissy. She's the best shopper in the world. She buys just as much as I do. We're doing our best to help the economy right now but we can't do it alone. Get out and shop, people. I hate shopping with people that don't buy anything. What's fun about that? That's the whole point to shopping, the exchange of money for goods. Otherwise, don't call it shopping. Call it looking.



We were shopping with my daughter a few weekends ago. Actually my daughter wasn't shopping since she didn't exchange any money for goods. Her mother did that for her. So her mother was shopping, she was just along for the ride. A free one, at that.

Sissy and I were waiting for K. while she was trying on something. This pic was taken in GAP. They have the best seat around. Kind of like a really large square ottoman, soft to sit on and you can put your feet all the way up. Sissy didn't know this so I dragged her over and made her sit on it.



This is the number of items K. tried on in Anthropologie.



This is the number of items K. bought in Anthropologie. No, the number of items I bought in Anthropologie. K. gets to wear them, but I own them.

[My daughter, K., is fairly annoyed that I post things about her in this blog. She wants me to tell you that she has a 97 average in Algebra and a 91 average in Biology. Apparently she's afraid some of you might have gotten the wrong impression of her after reading the Venice and Venezuala posting.]

Sew Easy

I like to sew. Not big projects, like skirts or shirts or dresses, but small projects. I sew little Christmas trees, and birds, and bags. I heart bags. I mean I REALLY heart bags. Ask anyone who knows me. I have a bag obsession. I believe I might have mentioned this in a previous post.

But I mention it again because I made a bag for a friend. She's been coming to knitting class, carrying her knitting projects in a plastic bag. That's just not right. She's got holes in the bag because the knitting needles poke through, then her yarn gets all tangled up because she slings the bag around like it's got groceries in it. There's just no reason for her to use a plastic bag when she has a friend who can make her a real knitting bag. So I made her one.




It looks pretty good at this point. That's when my impatience took over. I love to sew, I hate to pin. Mainly because I hate unpinning. I love to sew, I hate to measure. Mainly because it takes too long. Sewing is kind of fussy. I'm more of a "yeah, this looks about right" type of sewer. [Is that a word? Or does it mean the thing in the road that carries all kinds of dirty stuff away with the water runoff?]




I have issues with pins. They get stuck all the time. Probably because I hate unpinning them. It slows me down. My foot is "pedal to the metal" when I'm sewing. Get out of my way, pins. So I leave them in, which is a terrible thing to do evidently.

I also forget what I'm supposed to do, like sew curves. I sewed straight to the edge, turned the corner, sewed that section, turned ANOTHER corner [yes, I did it twice] and finished up. Then I looked at it. Ugh. I forgot to sew the curve. Somehow I failed to follow the neon blue line I put there. Still not sure how that happened other than my need for speed.




The body count was six pins by the time I finished. But I think it came out pretty good, don't you?

The Case of the Missing Yarn

My sissy and I are in the best knitting group ever. EVER. These women make me laugh. So much that I sometimes spit out my coffee, or fall out of my chair, or cry. Like the night that PKB (she has a hyphenated name that is used as one word "pattykellybedard" - it's much easier to call her PKB) was telling us about losing her ball of yarn.

She and her husband were visiting their son at college the previous weekend and her knitting bag fell out of the car and spilled onto the pavement. Knitting needles, yarn, knitting tools and patterns went all over, rolling under the car and away from it. She gathered everything up, went to her son's game and forgot all about the knitting bag until class on Wednesday night.

So now it's Wednesday night and we're at knitting class. PKB is chatting away, eating her snack, and searching through her bag for her yarn. She can't find it anywhere. Thinking back (and this took a little while), she remembers that the bag fell out of the car and so the yarn must have rolled under the car and they had driven off, leaving it behind. She pulls out her cell phone and calls her son at college and this is what we hear:

"Hi, honey. It's mom. I need you to do me a favor." (son speaks next)

"Oh no, finish dinner first. But I need you to go to the parking lot by the field and see if my ball of blue yarn is there." (son speaks next)

"Yarn, Patrick, a blue ball of yarn." (son speaks next)

"Patrick, I need that yarn to finish my sweater." (son speaks next)

"I know the dining hall isn't near the field, but I need this yarn, Patrick." (son speaks next)

"Okay, that's fine. Call me and let me know if you find it. Bye honey." (son hangs up)

She tells us the jist of her conversation and that Patrick will go look for her yarn as soon as he finishes dinner. So we all chatter on, teasing her about her lost yarn and how it sounds just like a Nancy Drew mystery, The Case of the Missing Yarn, and how it's not going to be there, or if it is, it will be filthy and she wouldn't want to use it on the gorgeous sweater she's knitting for herself. Time passes and no call from Patrick. PKB decides to call him back.

"Hi honey. It's mom. " Because he can't figure out from caller id that it's his mother calling him. "Did you find my yarn?" (son speaks next)

"It's not? Patrick, did you even go look for it?" (son speaks next and we now hear Patrick's voice a little louder.)

The rest of us are talking back and forth about how unlikely it is that Patrick even went to look for the yarn. He's just telling her he did so she'll get off the phone with him. We all start laughing, and since there's nine of us, we get kind of loud at times. Somebody else says something funny and we get even louder.

PKB has her free hand covering one ear, straining to hear her son, and then we hear:

"No, we're not drinking! We're knitting."

That was when my coffee spewed out.



Postscript to the story, she and her husband were back on campus the following weekend for another game. She had her husband go to the same parking lot and there was the yarn, lying right where they had parked previously. She picked it up, brought it class and used it to finish a sleeve on her sweater.

I still don't think Patrick went to look for the yarn.

First Friday Meme

Since I've seen this on a few other blogs & have liked it, I decided to institute the Friday Meme here at Sassy Sissies. Of course, I have done this without checking with my sissy...I think she'll approve. And if she doesn't, too late! Great way to get to know each other.

Here goes:

1. When I look to the left, I see_____.

2. _____ is the room that has the best view in my home.

3. Let it work _____.

4. _____ done dirt cheap!

5. _____ is a responsibility that all qualified citizens must share.

6. If you have any _____ feel free _____.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to _____, tomorrow my plans include _____ and Sunday, I want to _____!


Have fun & check the comments for my answers....see, it's my way of getting you(if there are any "you" out there to come & comment...devious aren't I?!)

Venice and Venezuela

I have to preface this post by saying that my daughter is NOT blonde. But she could be.

So we're all sitting around the table after dinner, talking about our upcoming trip to the Mediterranean and the extra day we're staying in Venice, in particular. I was excited to report that a co-worker had visited Venice a couple years ago and marveled over the leather goods she found there. Since I have a little (really, very tiny) obsession with bags of all kinds, I can't wait to see what they have to offer. I love handbags the most, followed by tote bags, book bags, knitting bags, overnight bags, cosmetic bags, and finally luggage. I'm starting to get quite a nice little collection of reusable grocery bags together but I don't really want to buy anymore since the whole point is to use the ones I have and not just keep accumulating them. Went a little off topic. Sorry.

Back at the dinner table, my mother-in-law asked the kids if they were going to be able to use any of the French or Latin language skills they've been studying at school. "Of course not," they replied. "We don't really know how to SPEAK the languages. Besides, we'll sound like dorks." I guess that means I'd better buy that Italian phrase book after all. Because I don't care if I sound like a dork, as long as I can find out where the ladies' room is, what floor our hotel room is on, or even, say, how to get to the airport.

After chatting a few more minutes, my daughter looks up, and says, "Wait, Venice? Is that where Venezuala is?" Only she pronounced it venice wayla. My husband and I looked at her, jaws hanging open, when from the kitchen we heard, "OMG, I can't believe I just heard that. Wait until I tell Mr. Levesque." That's my son, snitch to the end. My daughter started giggling, then asked again, "Well, is it?"

I couldn't make this stuff up.

110 Days and Counting

Yes, it's true, the girls asked me today how many days until their birthday. It's going to be a long 110 days. Seriously, they are obsessed with not only their birthday but the birthdays of their friends. It certainly doesn't help that from the 3rd week in January until the end of March, we will have attended 7 birthday parties.

Now they are counting down the days til their birthday. And talking about who they're going to invite, if they're going to swim, what kind of pinata they might want, etc. It appears that my OCD for planning things is starting to rub off on them......

The only good thing at this point, is that the birthday talk isn't constant yet....the topic is only brought up 5-6 times a week!



Don't know what they are wishing, but I know I am wishing the next 110 days go by quickly. For one thing, it will be warm. For another, the birthday talk will stop I am sure for at least a month or two.

Oh and by the way, I think I may have a "Make Your Own Ice Cream Sundae" theme. Me, OCD, no!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yankee girl, Southern boy

My oldest niece, Maria, got married last Saturday in North Carolina. She's from Pennsylvania and her husband is from North Carolina. Written across the windows of the getaway car were "Yankee Girl" and "Southern Boy". Huh.

The wedding day was beautiful. The sun was shining over bright blue skies, temps were in the low 80s, and flowers were blooming everywhere. The only thing that would have made it perfect would have been white leather ballerina shoes on my feet. Of course it's about me. This is partly my blog. The other part belongs to my sister. The one who rarely posts. So there, sissy.

My mother-in-law, sister-in-law and I were in charge of preparing the rehearsal dinner. We found this out when we got to the rehearsal. We used every person with us, recruiting husbands, brothers, cousins and friends to get tables set up, food prepared and punch made. We call that "pulling a Clara". My mother-in-law, Clara, can pull together dinner for 20 people out of a can of tuna, a box of pasta, salad and olives. She's amazing. You can't have her.



These beautiful flowers were in one of the bridesmaids' bouquets. They almost became table centerpieces for the rehearsal dinner. They were in the refrigerator. We didn't know who they belonged to. So we took them for the tables. It's a good thing my sister-in-law got smart and decided to ask the bride's mom if we could use them. The answer was "NO". Only she wasn't quite as calm as I've made her sound. The flowers quickly got put back and no harm done.





I find hearts everywhere. It's kind of a game I play when I'm bored. Not that I was bored at the wedding. I just find hearts.



Those bouquets ended up as centerpieces anyway.