One morning last week I celebrated the cool weather by wearing a handknit sweater to the grocery store. I stopped on the way for coffee, but that’s not really part of the story. Also, I was wearing clogs and eyeliner on the bottom, which I haven’t done in years. (The eyeliner was not on the bottom of the clogs, nor was it on my bottom. Dear Lord I need to practice so many things.)
I filled my cart with apples and bananas and butternut squash and power greens, and at least 17 people just rolled their eyes because I mentioned power greens. I get you. I rolled my eyes, too. (I no longer have eyeliner on the bottom.)
Because the self-checkout lanes were not yet open, I had to go through an actual lane manned by an actual man. (Running like hell out to the car with unpurchased produce was not an option, because I had trouble starting my car a few times last week and I don’t need to go to jail for stealing food unless I need to steal food.)
Older gentleman wearing a grocery apron: Good morning! That’s a pretty swakenfloosh you’re wearing this morning!
Me (knowing that my hearing tested perfectly last year, but still feeling doubtful that those results were accurate, and also feeling 92% sure that this guy is digging my sweater): Thank you! I decided it’s finally cool enough to wear it!
Aproned old guy: What? You only smile when it’s cold out?
Me (realizing that swakenfloosh equals smile and not everyone knows that a handknit sweater is a Handknit Sweater, and why do I always think I deserve a parade?): Yup. Pretty much.
It’s NaBloPoMo, and I’m going to try to snizzlefritz your swashenflotz like it’s November 9, 2010.
Another Day in the Life from Angela D. on Vimeo. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
When I was in Germany a couple of weeks ago I was walking around sort of reveling in the fact that I could not understand a word of what was being spoken all around me. It was like giving my brain a rest. I walked past a shoe-shine tent and a German man shouted something out at me. Naturally, I thought he was offering me a shine and, after checking my shoes, I said: no thank you! And he said, in English: I was simply wishing you a happy day! I walked away feeling stupid…UNTIL a couple of days later, when I was walking past him again and again he shouted (happily) something at me, in German, and I shouted back: YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY TOO!
Hopefully I guessed right.
Every day in November, I get to read you. That just made my day!
I wanted you to know that literally the only thing that is making me happy this dark time of year is knowing that I’ll get to read a blog post from you every day. Thanks!
Favorite part: “…not everyone knows that a handknit sweater is a Handknit Sweater, and why do I always think I deserve a parade?” I puffy heart this!
And, dude. You are so random and, just so you know, in my book random = awesome. Why haven’t I been reading you more? Apparently, based on the comments ^^^, I will get to read more of you in November. Yippee and yaaaay!
Have a great day, Pumpkin Pie Snickerdoodle. ;-)
I wish my days looked like your days. And Handknit sweaters do deserve parades.
If by doing this, you mean you writing and us reading -then yes! Let’s do this!!!
I will be swakenfloosh-ing all day after reading this post.
I eat power greens for breakfast every day, as you know, so my eyes are firmly affixed to your sweater. No, wait. My GAZE. Which comes from my eyes. Which are looking at your sweater. (I just accidentally typed “sweather”. I’ll come in again.)
Whaaaaaaa??? NoMoBlahPo again already??? I’ve been slacking. Suddenly realized just now “What hey? ANOTHER notification from Angela about a blog post? I’m falling behind. Time for me to scurry over there and see what’s up!” How had I possibly have forgotten about the real meaning of November? November means that even when we have a plumbing emergency, and I only have one chapter to finish in a really good book, and the holiday stocking I have been needlepointing for grandchild #2 for going on two years now is clearly not going to finish itself in time for *this* year either…still I will drop everything to read Fluid Pudding in a timely manner!
Forgive me, Angela, for I have sinned. I shall herewith catch up for sure, and lag no more this merry month. If you can do it, so can your loyal readers. Onward!!!
Here we go again. You’d think Carroll and I called each other every morning to ask what color we’ll be wearing today — I just now checked in and found it’s November at Fluid Pudding and now I’m four days behind in reading. I guess the socks I was hoping to finish today will have to wait awhile longer. Older gentlemen who notice a pretty swakenfloosh are a treasure, though.
I love your swakenfloosh. And your February Lady. Or whatever.