Only YOU Can Prevent Forest Fires and Other Such Accidents

Today I am sporting the biggest, most purple, most tender, and most preventable bruise EVER in my 26 year history. On Easter Sunday, as I was taking a garbage bag down to the bin, I slipped and fell down a set of stairs. Hard. Luckily I only have a nasty bruise and not some broken bones or dislocated elbows/shoulders/fingers to show for it. However... had I listened carefully to mascots like Smokey the Bear or that War Amps robot kid ("I can put my arm back on.... you can't"), I probably wouldn't have slipped and fell in the first place. Le sigh.

They say hindsight has 20/20 vision, yes? Well, in retrospect, there are at least 3 THINGS that I could have done differently to avoid taking such a tumble:

1. I could have moved the garbage to the bin at a later time. Did I mention there was a torrential downpour at the time when I took the garbage out? And that the stairs are painted wood stairs that practically turn into skating rinks when they are wet? No? I neglected to mention those details? Ahem..

Don't let the rays of (after-the-fact) sunshine fool you... these stairs are nothing short of DEADLY in the rain!

2. I could have dressed myself properly for the conditions. Yes, I did slap on my rain jacket, but no-- I opted not to go with the Shoes With Good Grips for the occasion. Instead, I kept my stellar Bosnian Slippers on, stuffed them into Marty's Birkenstocks (a full 2 or 3 or even 4 sizes too big for me) and headed outside. The shame.

The slippers. What can I say? I just hate to take them off. Ever.

The sandals. What can I say? They were at the back door, and my Shoes With Good Grips were all the way at the front door. And god knows, the GARBAGE COULD NOT WAIT to be taken outside. Even though the torrential downpour only ended up lasting about 20 minutes. And even though the garbage does not get picked up until April 1. So many things to look back on with regret...

3. I could have held onto the railing. But I didn't want to get wet.

(clears throat awkwardly). This is how I came to fall HARD on my sweatpants-clad ASS a mere two steps in to the 8-step journey. And yes, now I have a horrific, cringe-inducing bruise to show for it. Let this be a lesson for all of us, no? Chores can wait, but asses are irreplaceable.

Soul for Sale

I like to think of myself as somebody who isn't easily swayed by a cheap marketing gimmick-- you know, someone who is edgy, intelligent, media savvy, and even a little bit cynical. Of course, all of these intentions melt away when I am face to face with the tea section in any store. Call me weak: I am simply a sucker for tea bag/loose tea marketing.

I was recently sunk (as in hooked and lined) by Yogi brand tea. Yes, it's bagged, but it's much easier to do bagged than loose tea at work. Anyway, I love everything about this tea: the lotus designs on the outside (and inside!) of the boxes, the cheesy little yoga posture on the side of the box (e.g. 'a posture for relaxation', 'a posture for enhanced creativity'), and I especially love the little drops of wisdom printed on the tag of every tea bag. It's like getting a miniature horoscope or fortune with every single cup! (And you know me: I am nothing if not full of hearts for a good horoscope.) I like to think that the fortunes on the tea bags give me something to reflect on as I go about my busy day, but it's probably just another cheap and easy way for the Yogi company to bolster up my brand loyalty. Well, Yogi company: I'm sold. I sign my soul over to YOU.

A few days ago, I received this dose of particularly warm wisdom:


And let them come to me, I did. Guess who is now the proud owner of the softest and most gorgeous little scarflette ever?



Me!! I've always thought Kathy's work was incredibly beautiful, but I never imagined how SOFT and completely like WEARING YOUR OWN LITTLE SILVER-LINED CLOUD FROM HEAVEN these scarflettes would be! It is positively the most dreamy thing that has ever lovingly embellished my throat, and I swear to you all, I would sleep and shower in it every single day if I could. I love it so much.

Also included in my package from the Slocan valley? This:


Made with love by Kathy the Great as well. My mind spins with the possibility of what this gorgeous skein can become, but for now I'm happy just placing it on a mantle of sorts and bowing down every time I pass. (OK, OK, Kathy-- you can own a little bit of my soul, too. As long as you don't mind sharing with Yogi. And Mason... as in the jars.)

No, I Haven't Died

I know I've been a little stingy in the posting department as of late, but I can assure you I have decent reasons. Mostly? Hiking!


(OK, OK... this isn't so much 'hiking' as it is 'exploring the rustic setting of the Craigdarroch Castle'. Ahem. I stand corrected. But HEY, IT WAS SUNNY OUTSIDE!)

We've also been very much occupied taking care of our precious part-time-turned-full-time-for-a-little-while dog!


What can I say... as soon as the sunshine peeks through those clouds, I am SO OUT OF THE HOUSE! Hence... nothing much in that cursed posting dept. Meh. You'd be outside, too, if you were me.

Anyway, we completed the big move over to our home-away-from-home last night, and now we're all set to look after Robertine for a whole month while her owner is getting better in sunny Arizona. This means walks every day, evening walks to the beach every night, and extended walks/hikes every weekend. We sound like such a personals ad, 'enjoy[ing] long walks on the beach, watching sunsets, and taking in the gorgeous ocean scenery'. What a cushy life!

(Most) Pictures Are Worth A Thousand Words

... except for these photos.


If these photos were to speak a thousand words each about the progress I'm making on my Adult Sized Underwater-Turned-Autumn-Leaves Afghan (my made up name- can you tell?), those words would mostly be ums and ers:

Um.... yeah:



Er... yeah!:


Um, er, yeah-- what she said:

First of all, it's hard for me to do justice to the blanket-in-progress just by lying it on my apartment carpet and snapping some pictures. I accept this (sort of). The shadow from our patio door doesn't help, nor does the fact that the carpet tugs on the wool a bit and makes the afghan edges look weirdly uneven and slovenly. I promise you I am not that sloppy a knitter. Ah, well-- these pictures are all I've got for the time being, so let's use our imaginations and fantasize about what a perfect blanket this will eventually be.

These are the first four strips out of 12 or 15 that will comprise the finished afghan. Once all of the strips have been made and sewn together, a border will also be knit and will of course look fabulous (can I get a witness?). Right now, if I were to lie down beside this blanket, it would be a foot and a half taller than me, and I'm 5'8". I think it will make a decent queen-sized afghan when it's all said and done, but first of all, I've got to get me through another 8 or 11 strips of nothing but garter stitch! Huzzah for mindless knitting!