Brandy has inspired me to be better for Lent. I’m giving up MARS products…like M and M’s, because they do animal testing. I saw the video and even I was appalled. Where do they get people who will do stuff like this? What are they thinking when they are sticking a hard drive in a cat’s head? (Okay, I can;t get overly steamed over experimenting on vermin…but a cat? What the heck would they be thinking that we need to know about?) Then I’m giving up swearing. Well, not all swearing. Just the eff word. And flipping poeple off. Simutaniously. I haven;t exactly worked out the details. I think I’ll wing it.
And I’m going to be nicer not that I’m a bitch. It is just that sometimes, not often, I’m not as thoughtful as I like to pretend I am as I would like to be. I have a mean and bitchy streak a mile wide and I have to work really hard I need to rein that ego-fueled part of me in. Really hard.
So today (and she made it easy, poor thing), Brandy wanders into work, post-strep throat (still in the throes of strep, if you ask me…since I have children Brandy’s age and I know from sick kids). Plus she has mono and probably Valley Fever, if you ask me, since she isn’t from here and she is exhausted and is running a low grade temp, which only exhausts you more. So Brandy has a crate of mail and a crate of legal books to drag out to the library and she looks like all she can drag is her own self. So I comandeered a cart and enlisted Walt to carry the heavy stuff and golf-carted her out to 3A. Then I went back, got her some boiling water and some medicinal tea and delivered it thru the back fence.
PLUS, last week, when I was visiting Mike’s family for the big family reunion, I was talking about my book clubs (I belong to Maryanne’s and ravelry’s 52 books/52 weeks). Joe, the least favorite of all the in-law’s, did the snort-snort “I bet I haven’t read 52 books in my life!” and I simply said “Gosh, Joe, that doesn’t surprise me in the least.” I had two DOZEN snappy replies right there on my tongue and I.Didn’t.Use.Them. Of course, I bet I’ll have a chance to do so some other day. I run into Joe two or three times a year and he always manages to make some kind of dumb remark. So maybe being kind doesn’t really count in this instance, since I’m saving my nastiness for the future.
My February sweater is almost finished and even the highly critical part of me is pretty pleased. I tamed my free spirit enough to follow a pattern, swatch a gauge and even carry needles two sizes up and down to make sure I kept gauge. Impressed? I am. And I even checked said gauge with my little, scruffy sheepy tape measure.