I'm just sayin', is all

Good morning. For those of you who stopped by to see the finished Red Hat cloth, here it is:





It turned out to be about 15" x 7.5" when done on size 5 needles in my somewhat loose gauge. I used cotton yarn from my stash whose label was missing, but it was probably Peaches 'n Creme (since that's my default for this kind of thing). The pattern was designed by Mary Thistle, and I don't have permission to share it with you directly - but she's a very generous lady with her patterns, and can be reached through the Monthly Dishcloths Yahoo Group. Oh, and the "red hat" duckie came from the clearance bin at Steins Garden & Gift last fall, but I've seen them available on the 'net now and again.

Okay, thanks for stopping by. I'm going to vent now on a completely unrelated topic, so - bye!

Are they gone?

So, I spent a lot more time in my adolescence and young adulthood listening to Janis Ian lyrics (http://www.lyricsdownload.com/janis-ian-at-seventeen-lyrics.html) than actually dating in the kind of way young girls are taught to dream of. No, literally. Google a Rex Smith movie called "Sooner or Later" if you want to see how it DIDN'T go. Now, of course, I get the last laugh because I'm living happily ever after with a wonderful man who has all my best interests at heart, married me all over again last September, and drove all the way to Toledo two weeks ago because someone on Samba had a euro-rag roof component for sale that he could add to the '68 VW Beetle he's restoring for me. (See the picture below, if you've never seen one. Rare, and really cool.)

But having memorized said Janis Ian lyrics, and having spent way too many teenaged nights developing romantic fantasies of flowers and heart-shaped boxes of chocolate and gallant gestures that do not necessarily involve Volkswagens, I have certain expectations for Valentine's Day ("V Day"). I went through them in detail with Rick about 18 years ago, when he came home one V Day empty-handed at about 6:00 p.m. and told me he couldn't get me anything because by the time he'd left work the drugstore was out of heart-shaped boxes of chocolate. My theory then, as now, that (1) there was some advance notice, given that V Day had been observed since before he was born, and didn't get moved around a lot on the stupid calendar, and (2) it wasn't about the chocolate, per se, so much as the guesture behind it. (He aparently took me to heart that day - I left for night school in a snit, and he sat down with some cardboard and old flannel and made me a heart-shaped box, complete with my name machine-embroidered on the lid. Then he ran to the gas station for whatever chocolate they had, and individually wrapped it in tin foil before filling the heart box with it. That was a beautiful guesture, and I still have that box.)

Fast forward to yesterday. One co-worker gets gorgeous flowers delivered, another is going out to a romantic dinner - another is even getting married. Me? I get a call at about 4:30 that he's headed south to look at car parts with a buddy (and NOT VW parts). I hint heavily that a nice dinner would be well-received.

He shows up at about 8:15 (empty-handed), and looks at me with this "where's dinner" expression. I sigh, throw some spaghetti together, and eat a bowl of cereal in front of the TV because I had pasta for lunch and didn't want to go there again so soon. I'm feeling more and more disgusted, and about 9:00 he comes back in from the garage and hands me a card - very nice, in a generic sort of way - and my V Day gift: a hair straightener. Uh huh.

I'm feeling distinctly neglected at this point, and finally resort to a little guidance: "Honey, is there some chocolate . . . . ?" He tells me he hasn't had a chance to get any, but he's going back out to shop in a little while. (Did I mention this was in the middle of a snowstorm?)

At 9:30, I'm completely disgusted and go to bed. In my ugly lime-green full-length flannel p.j.'s.

At 10:00, he shows up with a box of chocolates, wakes me up to give it to me, and looks at me expectantly like I'm going to sit up in bed and eat chocolate for him. (Okay, it's happened before. But still.) Instead, I explain to him that he's missed V Day and we can try again next year. Conversation ensues.

We're okay today, and it's worked out, and I had a white chocolate truffle before work. But apparently I need to either decide not to feel so strongly about this whole thing - or learn how to nudge a lot harder, and a bit further in advance.