Fluid Pudding

So, it looks like I need someone to move into our house and make fun of me every time I eat a handful of chocolate chips. It’s getting ridiculous.

Actually, let’s not even talk about it.

We topped off our anniversary weekend by taking the girls to see Frankenweenie. The girls loved it, and I cried like a baby. Success.

After the movie, the girls and I walked around the subdivision to pick up an Avon order. On the way back to our house, Christy gave us some of her amazing soap, as well as the inspiration to bake something. (I’m not sure what just yet. But something. Maybe from the vegan cookie book. Hrm. Go back up and read the first sentence of this entry. I’ll wait right here.)

This is my winter coat. It was an anniversary gift from Jeff, it will be arriving in the next few days, and if it doesn’t fit, you’ll see me go rancid.

I’m cranky this evening. My left leg is messed up, I ate cereal and corn chips for dinner, and I’m 0/3 with the things I wanted to accomplish today. I know it could be much worse. So much worse. Know that I know that. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I wonder if the day will ever come when I think this card will work.

(That is not a biscuit.)

Similarly:

I almost purchased this card just so I could take it out to the parking lot and rip it into tiny pieces (which I would later recycle because I love the earth almost as much as I love honey).

This one did me in. Someday comma we’ll be a cute old couple period sitting on a park bench comma holding hands just because period until then ellipses… Don’t even get me started on the photo.

Do you remember way back in 2003 when my friend and I were considering starting up a greeting card business? Perhaps it’s time to revisit our business plan.

The Pudding Family spent the morning doing this:

And our evening was filled with this:

According to my calendar, it’s Sweetest Day. Jeff is the butter to my biscuits. Plural. Because I have more than one biscuit, and he is the butter for each of them. Googly eyeballs.

I’ll see you tomorrow. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Eleven years ago today was my final day as a Not Married.

Every year on this day, I leave my wedding ring in the jewelry box and wear only my engagement ring (and clothes, obviously). I then drop the girls off at school and head straight to the bars bedecked in a tiara and an LED male private part necklace. The necklace doubles as a straw, and I use it to suck down cocktails with questionable names. I dance and drink (and then drink some more because Baptists generally don’t dance), and suddenly I have no idea where I live and where did this ham sandwich come from? By 3:15, I’m all back to normal and ready to pick the girls up from school.

Ah, but today is a half day for the girls, and Meredith has a Staying Home Alone class to attend, and Harper needs to figure out a Halloween costume, and we’re out of dog food and apples! The necklace and tiara will have to wait in the drawer until 2013.

(Eleven years ago last night, I sat in a restaurant with my family and got caught up in a web of confusing underpants.)

This is my favorite time of year.

Wait. One more memory. Eleven years ago Right Now Jeff and I were sitting in the church parking lot (it was time to hang tulle and lights), listening to this song and not saying a word.

That was 4,018 days ago. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

This photo was taken during my morning run. (My TERRIBLE run. My run during which I couldn’t actually RUN for ten minutes without stopping. Apparently, I have no drive unless the little man in my ear is yelling at me! It looks like I need to keep the little man around.)

Perfect weather. Perfect trees. Perfect leaves. Perfect sun. Perfect mom deer and her two baby deers. Argh. It’s just too much. I can’t get enough of this time of year. (We’re going to a marching band competition on Saturday, and it’s also our eleven year anniversary. I will probably put on my clogs and explode with Perfect Dayitatum.)

After this morning’s run, I came home, tried to figure out how to open two Excel files side by side, and eventually left for a veggie kebob lunch with a friend. I then returned home, somehow got the Excel thing to work, and quickly left the house to sit in the pick-up line and work on the headband for a half hour. Back to school at 5:00 to pick Meredith up from Girls on the Run. Straight to Panera for black bean soup and then to a retirement center at 5:50 so Meredith could sing with her choir.

Now? Now I’m back home and I’m getting ready to pajamafy myself and either hit the Excel files or the headband. I haven’t yet decided.

Wait! Em! You asked how I pick up knitting and know where I am in the pattern after the project lies dormant for a bit. I write all over my patterns, I have a ton of row counters that I leave in the Ziploc bags with my projects, and I often write notes on pieces of tiny notebook paper and stick those in the bag, too. (I have a terrible memory. I used to have a great memory. I have no idea what happened.)

Headband. The Excel files can wait until tomorrow. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The headbands are happening. I’m nearly halfway finished with the first one.

This is the reason the Cardinals game was delayed.

This is what we had for dinner. It’s Chickpea & Sweet Potato Curry, it’s vegan, and it’s incredible. (We’re really loving Veggie Meal-Maker.) Carroll, this is the type of thing I picture you making for the vegan gang at Thanksgiving. I would eat a bucket of this before I would consider touching tofurky.

When I was 20 years old, I went to the mall record store where my friend worked in Columbia, Missouri. I told  him that I felt the need to purchase my very first New Age CD. He reached behind the counter and grabbed Ray Lynch’s Deep Breakfast, and it’s all I listened to for the next few months. This evening I found it, I put it in the CD player, and I couldn’t even get through the first song, mainly because I like the Blondie version much better.

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Elsiroomom asked when and where I knit, how I maximize my knitting time, what does knitting keep me from doing, do I have any hints for increasing speed, and do my kids knit. (I always love hearing from Elsiroomom. Elsiroomom? The next few paragraphs are for you!)

I knit in my car when I’m waiting for the kids to get out of school, and I knit at the performing arts school where  they take piano lessons on Mondays. This means I get about three hours of knitting time in each week. If Tempe and I go out for knitting and coffee, I score an extra 90 minutes or so. (Before we brought puppies into the family, I could sit on the couch and knit in the evenings. The puppies ate part of a cardigan about a year ago, and I’m still not over it.) I *do* occasionally knit while sitting at the computer watching Cary Grant movies on Netflix, but it seems that Netflix now crashes our computer, so that’s no longer an option.

This is what I worked on today in the pick up line. It’s the left front of this.

Knitting DESTROYS my reading time. Kills it dead. Because of knitting, I’ve been reading Gone Girl for a few months now (and I love it! I really love it!), the new John Irving has been sitting on my Nook for months, and I’ve all but turned in my resignation for my church book club. I read at night between 10:00 and approximately 10:04 when I nod off and my Nook whaps me in the face.

I’m a very slow knitter. I’m also a disaster in that I never have less than five projects going at once. When it comes to maximizing knitting time, the only thing I can say is this: I carry knitting with me wherever I go. If you see me in public, I have a knitting project either in my bag or in my car. (You’ve probably gathered that I’m a semi-nervous/awkward person. Knitting gives me something to do with my hands, and when all is said and done, I have a cardigan instead of bald spots.)

The headbands I hinted about yesterday? I’m thinking this will be this year’s “I’ve got a gift for you” thing. It was Meredith’s idea, and Meredith has been known to have some good ideas. (With that said, today Meredith was told that she needs to change the way she walks if  she wants to be popular. Let the games begin! And then please make them end!)

Oh! Wait! My kids HAVE knitted, but they don’t regularly knit. Meredith made a pretty amazing dress for her American Girl doll using a knitting loom, but she hasn’t explored many other options. Harper has been known to crochet a chain, but she would  much rather draw than deal with yarn.

Today I finished up a freelance project, accepted a new freelance project, edited a few articles for the church newsletter, did some laundry, and made tacos. As I made those tacos, I thought about the importance of popularity for young girls. I then did one of those thought bubbly “If only I  knew then what I know now” sort of things. (I was never popular. When I was in high school, I spent a lot of time practicing the piano and writing in journals. My family STILL pokes fun at me for always needing a new notebook and pen before leaving on family adventures.) ((The sad thing? I actually burned most of my journals during my “I think I’ll listen to The Cure and/or Don McLean” college years. That’s right. I threw my journals into a FIRE! I could have told you, Vincent, this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. Also, I left that house on fire and I never went back.))

This is what’s going on in our side yard right now.

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I did it again. I waited until 8:35 at night to log in to Fluid Pudding and give you a daily update.

Seriously. Is the every day thing working for you?

This is me right now.

I’m holding a skein of yarn for two reasons: 1. I’m contemplating headbands. 2. I’m trying to hide the fact that my counter top over there by the refrigerator is covered with pill bottles. (You don’t need to see it. It might worry you, and we don’t need that.)

I’m wearing my Color Runner headband for two reasons: 1. I’m contemplating headbands. 2. I graduated from my Ease Into 5K program today by running for 30 minutes straight, and I’m still waiting for my parade to begin.

My very first run was on September 7th of last year, so it took me nearly 57 weeks to complete an 8 week program. (Sure, I screwed up my ankle and broke my leg a few times, but still! 57 weeks!) However: I did it.

Will I continue to run? Yes.

Will I ever have a 26.2 sticker on my car? No.

Will I keep checking out release dates and reviews for Gel Kayanos? Yes.

Am I getting ready to log out and color my hair a new shade of brown? Yes. Unless I fall onto the bed before I can find an old t-shirt. (This  has been known to happen.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

It has been brought to my attention that I haven’t made enough handknit socks for myself.

It’s Sunday evening and I’m within inches of crashing for the night, and I know I promised to write at Fluid Pudding every day this month. Today is the first day that I came horribly close to breaking that promise. Hrm. I promised quantity. Not quality.

So here.

These are the socks I’ve made for myself. (Other socks I’ve knit appear over here. Do you remember when I paid for my trip to BlogHer by knitting socks for people? That was tricky.)

I finished these ghost socks two years ago, and get this: The yarn is actually dyed so that if you make gauge, you get ghosts. Seriously.

These are my Conjoined Twins. (They were knit two at a time on one super long circular needle. I know you’re thinking that knitting two socks at a time sounds like fun. (I KNOW you are!) Anyway. It wasn’t.)

These are my Embossed Leaves, and they get a lot of wear during this time of the year. So comfy.

My Spiraling Coriolis socks are big and thick and they’re best worn with a robe and a plan to nap.

My Jaywalkers were the first pair of socks I made. They’ve been going strong for nearly six years.

My Red Robin Monkeys are my very favorites. I love every single colorway the dyer created, and I find that I save her yarn for special projects. Sadly, this particular pair of socks are getting VERY thin on the bottom. I may need to find some sort of decorative prosthetic leg so I can keep them on display forever.

My Radioactive Sex Monkeys died last year.

My Go With the Flows died in 2010.

Looking ahead, I believe I’m going to put some time aside during the holidays to knit up one of the following pairs. (I know. So many of you are rolling your eyes and falling asleep right now. I’m better than Ambien and chamomile tea!)

The Tea Time socks are part of Around the World in Knitted Socks, and I think they’ll be fairly quick.

The Green Isles, also from Around the World in Knitted Socks, look to be time consuming and lovely and perfect.

Thank you for your patience. Maybe tomorrow I’ll talk about underpants. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

This morning I stomped out some freelance work while Jeff and the girls rode on a homecoming float.

This afternoon we took Henry to the vet for his annual check-up and vaccinations. While there, it was discovered that he has a yeast infection. They did tests, they prescribed medications, and we’re now $240 poorer. (He has yeast on his FEET! Please know that the next time I bake bread for you, I will no longer be asking Henry to knead the dough with his toes. Lesson learned.)

This evening I made aloo gobi and as soon as everyone finishes up, we’ll be heading out for frozen yogurt.

(Do I sound a little down in the dumps today? Maybe it’s because Avon has discontinued my favorite mascara. Yep. That’s probably it.)

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If you decide to learn how to knit, you will suddenly run into a gaggle of fiber enthusiasts.

If you give up meat, 25 vegetarians will squash their way into your circle.

If your “thing” includes dressing up in a college mascot uniform and making out with other people wearing big furry suits, well, there’s a tribe out there waiting for you!

I know I’m not telling you anything new when I mention that the world is a big place, yet it’s also wonderfully (and sometimes alarmingly) small.

This morning I had my annual physical exam. I fasted for 14 hours before the exam. (I slept for 7 of those 14 hours, so I realize that I sound sort of ridiculous when confessing that the fast was tricky.)

This was the trickiest part of the fast:

Me: AUGH! I can’t eat!
Jeff: What’s wrong? Do you want a bowl of Blueberry Morning?
Me: I’M FASTING AND YES I WOULD LOVE A BOWL OF BLUEBERRY MORNING!!! INTENTIONAL DRAMATIC ARM FLOURISH!!!

During the appointment, my doctor asked what I do for exercise, and for the first time EVER, I didn’t have to lie and tell him that I’m thinking about signing up for some sort of class at the J.

Me: I’ve been running two or three times each week!

Doctor: Excellent.

Come to find out, he’s a runner, too. (Not a knitter. Not a vegetarian. Not a furry make-out weirdo.) ((Wait. I’m not a furry make-out weirdo, either. Sometimes I just type and type and the next thing I know? I’m no longer representing myself very well.)) (((My doctor just might be a knitter, a vegetarian, and/or a furry make-out weirdo. We did not cover those things during my appointment. There’s never enough time to touch on all topics when you’re having your blood pressure taken (106/60!) and your heart rate checked (60!)))) I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that a doctor runs. Practicing what you preach and all that. (Wait. Did you notice that I sort of referred to myself as a runner at the beginning of this paragraph? My next run is my “graduation” run, during which I’ll run for 30 minutes without stopping.)

Anyway, we talked about the minimalist running movement and how it’s okay to sit in the middle of the spectrum between running barefoot and running in ridiculously supportive shoes. (He likened it all to politics, and I cringed, and suddenly my blood pressure shot up and I started bleeding out of my ears because I’m really getting nervous about this election, People. (By the way, thanks for your comments yesterday. If you didn’t comment? Please do. I’m loving the comments. Wait. Let me type the word comment one more time. Comment.))

To improve my crazy town sleep issues, which I haven’t really discussed here because I bore you enough with the headache thing, he told me that I need to get between three and five hours of exercise each week. (I’m about 2/3 of the way to three hours.)

To reduce my risk of running injuries, he told me that I should try to increase my steps per minute, which will force a shorter stride and will eliminate the jarring that occurs when one strikes with the heel.

He keeps his stride at 80 steps per minute.

I asked how he keeps track of this.

He said that he counts his steps for 15 seconds, multiplies it by four, and then maintains the pace.

I told him that I’m very slow and inconsistent, but that I was interested in this idea. I then pictured myself running with a metronome attached to the top of my head.

(I often picture myself running with only one leg and a bunch of half-fingers.)

Luckily, I remembered that my-mia-mie suggested Cadence many moons ago. This will save me a trip to the hardware store. Thank you once again, my-mia-mie!

This has nothing to do with anything, but look what I found today:

I can’t remember the last time we had alcohol in the house.

We currently have alcohol in the house.

Honeycrisp alcohol. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>