Category Archives: Random

Klutz

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I’m a klutz.  I injured my right thumb in a culinary accident on Saturday.

I was inserting picks into a large sandwich ring to help hold all the layers together when I needed to remove one to reposition it.  I had a damp paper towel between my thumb and fingers to wipe off the chicken salad.  The pick had the tiniest sliver sticking out on one edge.  It went straight into my thumb about a half an inch.  I was at my daughter’s house and she wasn’t home.  I tried to pull the sliver of wood out with my left hand and the tip broke off.

When my daughter got home, she tried to pull out the splinter.  My son-in-law tried as well.

tweezers

 It  is still in my thumb and it hurts.  It hurts to write.  It hurts to sew.  It hurts to knit.

Several years ago when I was working in retail and helping get other stores ready for opening day, I was setting up some shelving and crawling around on newly carpeted floor.  A screw with the pointy end up was under the carpet.  My knee found it and the tip broke off in my knee.  Two words: not fun.

I ended up in an urgent care clinic with a doctor digging around in my knee and finally extracting the screw tip.  My prize was tetanus shot, a hole in my knee and a Band-Aid.

I’m hoping this splinter comes out on its own.

What I want for Christmas

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Dear Santa,

I hope I’m not too late with my Christmas wish list:

  1. Double point needle organization/storage roll.
  2. 14 inch needle storage roll.  The one I made years ago just doesn’t hold enough needles and I didn’t make the slots big enough.
  3. Circular needle storage case.  I don’t have many circular needles but they need to be someplace other than a clear zip bag.
  4. Professional organizer to organize my various craft, sewing, knitting, yarn, needlework, beading, polymer clay, and painting supplies and patterns.  (And if there’s time, my closet.)
  5. Cleaning person.  I have more important things to do than scrub the bathroom, iron, vacuum, dust, blah, blah, blah.
  6. Craft room designer and contractor to design and construct a craft room in my basement so #3 can do their job.  I have the money set aside.  I just need the plans and the person to make it all happen.

I have been good (enough) this year.

Thank you.

Geriatric magnet

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Yep, that about sums it up for me. 

The other day at the market, I saw a woman struggling to get some boxes of Jell-O off the shelf.  I asked her if she needed any help.  No, she didn’t but she told me about her recent stay at the hospital, showed me the bruises on her hands and arms from a fall, and mentioned her heart issues.  She ended up in the hospital because her husband, while trying to help with  the Christmas decorations, left some boxes in her way and she fell.  Hence the bruises.  Two weeks ago she had something done to her heart.  She’s going to be 80 years  old on her next birthday. 

Do I know this woman?  No.  I just offered to help get some tiny boxes off the shelf for her.

A few  minutes later I was standing in the pasta aisle deciding if I wanted traditional spaghetti sauce or roasted garlic with onions sauce when someone tapped me on the shoulder.  This time it was an older gentleman who told me I was cute and looked like Little Red Riding hood in my red winter coat with a hood.

I thanked him.  What else was I supposed to do?

Anyway he proceeded to talk to me for an additional ten minutes.  He’s 72, his wife passed away in April.  He has two daughters, one 43 and one 45 years old, and nine year-old twin granddaughters.  He guessed my age as 15 years younger than I am.  His cat is named Muffin.   He was having dinner with his 91 year-old mother-in-law that evening.  The menu consisted of spaghetti, salad, and homemade blueberry pie.  He even asked if I wanted to join them for dinner.  I learned who he voted for in the last election.  He even told me his password to get on the Internet.

Did I accept the dinner invitation?  He seemed very nice but no, I’m happily married and told him Mr. Aitch and I had dinner plans.  Did I even know this man?  Again, no.

I learned more about him and his family in ten minutes than I know about some people I’ve worked with for over five years!

Why can’t some hottie tell me I look cute?  And can a woman over 21 still be “cute”?

A new direction…with wine

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When I started this blog, I planned on writing about knitting.  Hence the name: Knitting in Flashes.  I’m expanding my writing to include not only knitting, decluttering, redecorating, sewing, and other crafting delights, but the rest of my life, which I thought was going to end last night.

Mr. Aitch and I have friends.  We have friends that drink wine.  We have friends that occasionally give us wine.

Last night we tried one of the wines we recently received.  It’s made by some hippies in southwestern Pennsylvania.

Mr. Aitch poured generous glasses for both of us. 

The bouquet was flowery with hints of raspberries and honey.  It also had touches of  “fragrant” tea and raisins.  Whatever.  I like raspberries and honey.  I drink tea.  It was ok.  Sweet but ok.  For the first few sips. 

I was enjoying our lovely dinner of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes,and corn and sipping the wine when all of a sudden I grabbed my chest to pull out the burning arrow that I was sure pierced my bosom and set me on fire.

My friends, this was not your everyday heartburn.  This was heart inferno. 

Mr. Aitch, the ever attentive husband that he is, noticed my extreme discomfort and rushed to get me some strong antacids.  Fifteen minutes later the flames were extinguished and I knew I would live.

I should have known that when Mr. Aitch took one sip and wanted to give me the rest of his glass, that something was wrong.  One sip for Mr. Aitch  was one sip too many.