Not quite 100 things about me

    • I learned to knit when I was about four or five and I think I should be much better at it than I am for this reason. I should be knitting royalty. My name should be on everyone’s lips.
    • There’s a lot I don’t do well and I rely very  little  on entire patterns. (I can read patterns as easily as I read English.) I have made a muslin for the people I knit for the most with every possible measurement written down, so when I’m knitting, I can just hold my work up to the muslin and see where I’m at. It’s not really a muslin, that is just what it is called in dressmaking.
    • I make  my “muslins” out of interfacing. They are the next best thing to a dress form. When Lisi was little, she called them “Egyptians”. They are pretty nifty, if I do say so myself. I have my victim lie down on some interfacing and use a ruler to trace out their silhouette, so instead of looking like a crime scene victim, they look like like a robot shell, with numbers and lines and arrows all over. I take out my tape measure and measure each conceivable point. To anyone else, they look a mess. To me, they are a Rosetta Stone for each person for whom I knit.
    • I measure everything possible. Neckline. Collarbone to wrist. Circumference of wrist. How long do you like your cuffs? I measure that, too. Collarbone to each nipple with and without undergarments.  Collarbone to elbow. Elbow to wrist bone. Slightly bent elbow, with a measurement from shoulder joint to wrist bone.  Circumference of upper arm. Pelvic bone to pelvic bone, both front and back. Natural waist.  Shoulders from shoulder joint to shoulder joint for both back and front. cuff. Armpit to hipbone. Length of collarbone on each side. Back length to natural waist. Where do you like your cuffs? How high? How high do you like your neckline? It takes about a hour to get all the measurements because I take them THREE TIMES. But it makes such a difference. I keep them rolled up in a wrapping paper rolls with their names on them.
    • My former house was built in 1888. The city was going to burn it, so my husband bought it and moved it across town. Whilst on the move, we knocked out the power to 7,000 homes at 7:15 in the morning. It wasn’t our fault. Darling actually wanted to go a different route, but the highly educated fella with a computer,who worked for the power company was POSITIVE that going over the railroad tracks was a better idea. Our permit was for a “move” of 35 feet.It was actually 34 ½ feet high.The power lines were 33 feet high.high. Recipe for disaster, don’t you think?
    • We live downtown now, in an old hotel.
    • There are retail stores on the ground floor, so we sort of live over the stores.
    • My floors were recliamed from an old school we tore down. They have to be dust mopped every day, but it only takes about 5 minutes and is SO WORTH IT.
    • I love to sit on the veranda and watch the cars go by.
    • I like bamboo needles the best, followed by the wood ones with the carved ends. They look so nice jammed into color-coordinated balls in an antique wooden bowl.Total yarn porn. I have a wooden bowl, filled with color co–ordinated yarn. Yarn porn to the max.
    • I love my wireless internet connection. I can email from the garden swing on the veranda.  One of my sincere pleasures of life.
    • When I die, I want to come back as one of my dogs. They have the best lives in a loving and indulgent home.
    • Tank is a Chihuahua-Rottweiler mix. (I know. I wonder about that, too. )He is both huge, frightening and very sweet. His job in life is to watch over me. When I can’t sleep, he gets that new mother insomnia look on his worried little face. (He was born in 2000 and is starting to show his age at times.)
    • Rocket is a Maltese and jumps off the furniture like Rocket J. Squirrel. She was born in 2000, also. She hasn’t spent a day in her life worrying about anything, yet. I doubt she ever will.. She is the stupidest dog I’ve ever had and she doesn’t know who I am most of the time. She lives her life exactly on her own terms. If I don’t like it, she will hide; sometimes for entire days. (“Cross me? See how you like THIS!”)
    • She likes to sit in a hole in the front yard with her bright little eyes and perky little ears sticking up and watch the cars go by. Or the wind blow. It makes no difference to her.
    • She doesn’t smell doggy. She smells like grass and sunshine.
    • She is a picky little eater and not only do I cook her food every night of my life, I hand feed her.  (She doesn’t like leftovers).
    • If it doesn’t look/smell/taste right, she will clamp her little mouth shut and there is no one on this earth who can persuade her to open up.
    • I have a little Cocker-terrier mix, named Jack. (He actually belongs to my daughter, the cop. She named him and boy! was I glad, That means she will never ever ever name one of her children Jack.)
    • He likes to dig. (He will dig until he runs out of air.)
    • We had holes big enough to bury ponies in our yard. Now, I take him to a pile of dirt over by the railroad tracks and let him dig away.
    • He’s a talker, that one. Vocalizes all day long. I think he is tattling on the other dogs. Or explaining himself.
    • One of my husbands was named Jack. I called him Jackson. We used to drive by a mule farm and I’d always say, “Oh, look! Your relatives!!” Jackson would never laugh. He didn’t have much of a sense of humor.
    • He ran away in 2001 and I went to LA to clean out his house. His work, the police and his family thought he was dead. Heck,I thought he was dead. He wasn’t. He was found in front of his mother’s house in 2005. His brother called the police from the mini mart to report ” a dead body”and no one in his family bothered to go down to identify his body nor call his children.
    • Well, I picked him.
    • I have a piano in the music room. Sometimes I play Freddie Mercury. Sometimes I play hymns. Sometimes I play Lennon and McCartney. And sometimes I play kinder songs.
    • Am I good? Don’t be silly.  I’m somewhere between not so good and pretty bad. I can sight read, though.
    • You might say I have too many books. You would be wrong, but you might say it. I have a huge library with two rolling ladders.  I’ve dreamed of this room since I was ten. Floor to ceiling books. Huge windows. A fireplace. It is such a perfect space, Martha Stewart would covet, lust and weep for it.
    • I like to travel…especially spur of the moment trips. Once we drove from California to Key West so I could see the wildflowers.
    • We didn’t take a map because heck, I sort of know where Florida is in relationship to California.
    • Springtime was gorgeous, no matter where we were. Just gorgeous.
    • I have two grown children, whom I raised alone.
    • I like the people they’ve turned into.
    • I’m glad I didn’t micromanage every minute of their lives. I let them have their own high school experiences, with little meddling on my part. BOY, THAT WAS HARD.
    • I love my life as it is. Except for the getting old part. Too late to do anything about that, though. And the occasional poverty part. I much prefer being rich. But the real estate market is a waiting game. (I’m sick of waiting.) It will revive because it always has and it always does.
    • I got married in Las Vegas. It was very nice and spiritual. Elvis wasn’t there. I won $5,000.
    • I have had my hair every color that comes in a bottle. Red, black, brown…orange, purple. I colored it because I was going gray. My Da didn’t want to have a white haired daughter, so I colored it. When he died in 2000, I stopped.I have totally white hair, now.
    • It is so much easier and I can pretend it is Marilyn Monroe platinum. Sometimes I have hot pink/apricot and blue streaks put in because I have that Cyndy Lauper true colors thing going on. I like it. (But sometimes, when I see myself in a store window, it surprises me that it is SO white.)
    • Sometimes I will chop it off. I’ve used nail clippers, opened the car window around Tehatchapi and whacked at it all the way to Vegas.
    • Nothing says Hanford like awful hair. I think Hanford must mean bad hair in French.
    • I’ve taught school for 44 years. It’s about the only kind of job I’ve ever had.
    • Except for packing fruit one summer at 16).  I really don’t like packing fruit.
    • Every job I’ve ever had AFTER THAT  fed into the state teacher’s retirement system. Lucky me! I subbed while I was in college and when I taught at Year ROund schools so I have credit for more years than you would expect.
    • That is a LOT of subbing!
    • I love teaching. I just didn’t realize I would be doing it for quite so long. I like the interaction with children and the bulletin boards and every single thing about it. Totally entertaining and fun and so rewarding.
    • I taught in the same room as my sister in law. THAT was great.
    • I taught next door to my brother. THAT was greater. Clark is one of the best things in my life. (Besides my kids and my husband.) I love him so much because he just gets me. So far, not only I have never gotten mad at him, I think he is practically perfect in every way. God sent him to me exactly the way I would have chosen him. Lucky me.
    • I taught in a super max prison for 15 years. There is always something going on but some days I got really tired of being surrounded by people who want to escape, take me hostage, torture, rape, dismember, set me on fire and kill me. Not always in that order. At least it was always different.
    • It was the most exciting job I’ve EVER had.
    • I feel guilty when I’m not doing something productive. Thus, the knitting. And cross stitching.
    • I’m more of a stitcher than a knitter because it goes faster. Knitting is unbelievably slow because you are making both the fabric and the garment. (I learned that from Brenna. It is exactly what is both right and wrong with knitting.)
    • I’m a good typist and a great seamstress. I can still take shorthand. The only three things I learned in high school that have been worth anything to me. Including the social stuff.
    • I have narrow feet with a high instep. Most shoes just don’t fit
    • I quit smoking in 1978. I miss it every day.
    • In fact, I’d knock you in the head right now for one cigarette
    • I love purple and red and turquoise and coral.
    • But I like to wear a lot of black, because I’m lazy. Black is just easier.
    • I woke up one morning and decided to have a Brazilian. Yep, out of the blue. If I couldn’t have gotten an appointment, I would have changed my mind.. It doesn’t hurt, well kinda sorta but the whole procedure is VERY weird, it sort of negates any of the pain discomfort total humiliation. Amy, the gal who does all of my waxing, knows me better than my OB-GYN.
    • In the rest of my life (I see her all the time) , I never get the idea that the idea ever crosses her mind that she has seen me closer than stark nekkid.
    • I don’t like malls. Too many people and too many choices. What you don’t see, you don’t want.
    • I have a lot of friends who are guys. Heck, I worked in a men’s prison. Who else would I spend my days with?
    • By and large, they are nice, funny, honorable and decent guys. There a fair share of dawgs, but I at least can recognize them.
    • I believe in the Death penalty.  In fact, I could throw the switch and have a Hershey bar. Wouldn’t bother me a bit.
    • So I think that maybe I’ve spent a little more time with sociopaths than I like to admit.
    • I can’t watch regular TV that has a story arc.
    • It is too confusing for me.
    • So I rent an entire season and watch that.
    • Part of it has to do with the fact I go to bed at 9 oh oh every night of my life
    • Because I get up at 445. I like the mornings because I haven’t screwed anything up yet.
  • 70.Because, believe me, I will.
  • 71. I have a little house on the beach. I can see the boats from my porch.
  • 72. It is up for sale.
  • 73. I have a boat at the Marina…and I think maybe I’m either going to sell it or put in the the lake below Three Rivers. I sold my boat to my architect.  I can’t jump off the deck to the dock anymore. But while I had it, I sure felt rich!
  • 74. I like to read other people’s blogs. I met Inky at Yarnology. She looked exactly like Inky. I still stay in touch with her because  she is funny and stylish and vintage and REAL. You know, real people are in short supply.
  • 75. I ran into Rachel, the famous knitter and author at Stitches. It was like I have known her my whole life. Ran into LaLa, too.
  • 76. Knitters are incredibly giving people.
  • 77. A social bunch, too.
  • 78. That’s why I knit in public. Someone is always coming up and asking questions.
  • 79.
  • 80. I ran into TeacherLinda and the always adorable Olivia at Stitches, too. I’ve known Linda for about 22 years. She looks exactly like she did 22 years ago. So I guess Ray was a good choice. They are both kind, gentle lovely people. I’m lucky to know them.
  • 81. I went to Stitches 2010 and LOVED it.
  • 82. I have cluster headaches and get shots in my head for them. Most people who have exactly what I have are dead. They are the lucky ones.
  • 83. They are comparable to amputating your arm without anesthetic. Yourself. With embroidery scissors
  • 84. I was in hospital in October of 2009 for a week with a picc line. They dumped what was pretty close to poison into me, in hopes that it would help my headaches.
  • 85. It was so bad, I should have had a float in the Rose Parade.
  • 86. My mother died Easter Sunday, 2009. I don’t think a day goes by that I don’t miss her. She was a pistol and had an opinion on everything. I find myself closer to her now than I was when she was alive.
  • 87. I rarely talk to my sister. She thinks I’m an idiot.  She’s a nice enough person with, I guess, lots of friends. I’m just not one of them.
  • 88. It’s not her fault. I’m just not the kind of person she would chose.
  • 89. My DA didn’t speak to me for ten years. What a waste of time. He died in 2000…which means he lost a lot of time being mad at me.
  • 90. My mother spent quite a bit of time refusing to talk to me, too.
  • 91. I just wonder how much pleasure a person gets out of not speaking to a person?
  • 96. I  like talking to total strangers, especially the ones who share my interests. I find most people really interesting, once you ask them the right questions.
  • 97. On occasion, you’ll find someone who wants to give one word answers.
  • 98. Rather than waste my time with them, I just let them simmer in their total aloneness and let them be proud that no one can find out anything about THEM. I think they think they work for the CIA when they are really just uninteresting.
  • 99. My friend Nusan feel the same way. We’ve only known each other since Ben was an infant and like each other just fine. She is laid back and not full of her own self, although she has a LOT to be over filled with. She was the youngest of seven kids and has that kind of personality. Anyone dying? Will this poison you? No? Then all’s right with the world. And she’s as happy with something neat she found at a yard sale as she is with something from Nordstorm’s.
  • 100. I just wish I had known how quickly my children  would grown up. I like the people they are but I miss my babies.
Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Not quite 100 things about me

  1. Wow, this was a truly high quality post. In theory I’d like to write like this too – taking time and real effort to make a good article… but what can I say… I procrastinate alot and never appear to get something done.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s