Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Remember Klutz Books?

They were big in the '80s and my kids loved them.  They taught you how to do stuff and came with whatever you needed to do it with.  DS got a Klutz book and learned how to juggle.  I don't remember all of the other ones we had but I found one at the Brown County Library's annual book sale yesterday.  It teaches Cat's Cradle, you know, that string game that you played on the playground when you were a kid or maybe your grandma taught you how to make a couple figures.  My Grandma Stephan taught me how to make a Jacob's Ladder (these instructions are pretty clear but Grandma taught me to use my middle finger for the first move instead of my pointer finger; I tried to play along with her but, man, it makes a difference to these old fingers) and it only took a little reminder last night for my fingers to remember.  I also found a whole pile of Berenstain Bears books for someone who told me how much she likes them.  What?  They were a buck apiece.  I'll probably go back on Friday when you can buy a bag for $7 and put in as many books as you can cram in.  It's even cheaper on Saturday but I'm busy on Saturday.

I finished Owl Puff #2 on Monday.  It's smaller than Owl Puff #1 which is fine.  We have a kids' book called Owl Babies that LC really loves so the Puffs have been renamed Percy and Bill.  There needs to be a third, slightly larger Puff because there are three babies in the story.  I was told that I don't have to make an Owl Mother because LC will be that but, even though there isn't an Owl Daddy in the book, Hoot, an owl I knitted during the Harry Potter years will be the Owl Daddy.  (I don't think Harry will mind, do you?  Hoot is our car companion for long or tiring jaunts around town.)  I cast on the third Puff last night so Sarah is in the works.  I need to complete the Owl family.  Besides this is the kind of thing that makes knitting really fun for me.  I mean, look at those faces.  Could you resist Bill and Percy?  I thought not.

When I cleaned out my knitting basket the other day I came across a knitted dishcloth pattern I'd printed out some time ago.  There was a small amount of dishcloth cotton in there too so I dug up some needles and cast on.  Of course there wasn't enough of the first yarn to finish the cloth.  In fact, there was enough to make almost exactly half so I got out the remaining Fiesta yarn, joined it, and now I have this schizophrenic dishcloth.  I like the pattern so I'll make more but probably make them out of one color at a time.

I stopped over to visit the Grand-chickens the other day while I was out and about and thought it was pretty interesting to see them lined up in the pecking order for the peels, leaves, and grapes.

A chipmunk discovered that the sparrows throw seed out of the feeder and it spent quite a bit of the afternoon yesterday stuffing its cheek pouches.  I wonder where it stores the stuff?  Under the shed?  In the hose caddy?  I watched it, fascinated, afraid that it was going to burst.

November 2--Carl Schneider, BT-001.  Gage sat on the bow of the Kathy Leigh tied up at the Jacksonport pier.  His hands were busy tying a complicated knot but his eyes looked out at the lake.  The other boaters had stopped calling him over for a beer, didn't tease him about staying tied up on fine fishing days.  Ever since Jacob had disappeared in the last storm of the previous winter Gage hadn't been the same.  Jacob's body had never been recovered and Gage spent hours and days slowly tracing widening circles from where he thought the boy had fallen overboard.

Well, that's cheerful.  I set out to write a sailing adventure but look what came out.  Pencils just aren't reliable.  I'm going to go ice my ankle for the third time today.  The osteopath told me on Monday that I have to ice it three times a day for 15 minutes a time.  He said that's the most effective method.  I have to say it makes me feel like I've backslid but I'm so damned tired of this ankle I'm willing to do just about anything to make it feel normal again.  Don't break your ankle.  Just don't.

1 comment:

Aunt B said...

Love those Little Golden Books. I have a stack of them waiting to be read to one of the great grandkids if we EVER move to FL.