Good News, Bad News - Oddments

Yes, yes, it's been a (long) while. You know how, when you're doing something suspect, you look around, and if other people are doing it too you don't feel so bad? Well, some of my favorite bloggers haven't been keeping up very well either. I've decided it's a summer thing, when those of us, especially in this Midwestern climate, make the most of being able to go outdoors without which we're wearing an entire 19th century immigrant's wardrobe. (That's what I wear to BED in the winter, but nevermind.)

So I'm going piecemeal here, bear with me.

Bad news: common wisdom says that people with false teeth can't eat corn on the cob.

This would be an ear of very fresh Wisconsin sweet corn. It is sitting on my favorite fresh-ear-of-sweet-corn-eating plate. It has been buttered with a proper butterknife (seen behind it to the right). It has JUST been buttered, because if you enlarge the picture you can see the butter JUST beginning to seep in between those fragrant, sweet kernels in there.

Good news: Neener neener, people with false teeth (that would be MOI) not only can eat corn-on-the-cob, they (or in this case, MOI) can eat about four ears, clean as a whistle {note to self: look that expression up} in an embarrassingly SHORT period of time. Those ads you see for denture adhesive? TRUE!!

Bad news: It's not possible to take pictures of hummingbirds unless you're a famous fancy photog with a bazillion dollars' worth of fancy-schmancy cameras and a lot of luck.

Good news: Neener neener, yes you CAN, even if you're an aging hippie with a (admittedly very nice) digital camera with anti-tremor feature....and a lot of luck. See him there, on the left? Not a great picture, perhaps, but this was only my second viewing of actual hummingbirds EVAR!

NOTE: We'd gone for a bit of a jaunt and stopped at a place in Nelson, Wisconsin to eat (one of those terrific places that locals frequent, with someone's granny in the kitchen - if they knew about her she would SO be on America's Top Chef or wossname).

Bad news: I've been a pretty rotten blogger, but one with The Very Best Intentions; Good news: I've sorted things out, and realize that the adventures of the past month or so would've been detailed in amazing detail, if you know what I mean, had I written as I intended, at the time. And ladies and gennulmens, I think a good deal of it would qualify as "T. M. I!"

Now that everything's been filtered out, I can cheerfully write about what remains in my mind: the high points, the cool things, the good stuff. So that's what I'm going to do.

Stories to come: Our trip to Livingston, Montana (with stops en route, including a visit to Minot, North Dakota, where I got pictures of the house my parents lived in when my sister was born - AND the house they lived, having come up in the world a bit, I think, where I was born. )

That trip included a Grand Enlightening of Yours Truly - involving my surprise at a certain hotel room...followed by the realization that I was being petty and petulant and really DREADFUL - followed by the realization that I'd learned a valuable lesson.

That same trip included the nicest, sweetest wedding I believe I've had the pleasure to attend (there will be pictures) and it was our privilege to have been included.

There was a silver-lined mishap which I enjoyed more than Mr Dearling, but he didn't mind, and enjoyed my enjoyment. There was also my first ever experience in Yellowstone (there IS a picture of me knitting at Old Faithful - I ain't no slacker) and a truly (I mean truly) deeply-spiritual experience with a grizzly. There are pictures of that too - Mr Dearling's show the bear grazing along nice as you please; my pictures show a brown smear against a green backdrop. The camera's anti-tremor feature can only do so much.

As we got home just two days before having to leave for our favorite historical reenactment at Grand Portage -- I didn't go. Mr Dearling did, carrying my affectionate hugs for everyone. I need more nesting time between far trips, I can't be away from my little house, little stash, (!) little kitties for such a short time before leaving again.

But! We're off again (I'm re-oriented and ready to go) to a wonderful wedding this coming weekend which will involve merriment, a ceremony, a reception in a fabulous museum-y-type place, and the chance to hang with a very favorite re-enacting (and otherwise) couple whose company we relish but usually only share online. I'll bring back pictures of that too, and I expect it'll be as wonderful as the Montana wedding, though very, very different. We've been asked to wear our 1857 togs, and I always have a bit of extra fun flouncing about in me hoops and furbelows!

It'll be the first time my friend will see me actually wearing that gown - and she made it for me. I'm ALWAYS proud to wear it (which is why I work at lining up programs for the museum requiring it) so it'll be fun to show her how grand it is.

Otherwise all's generally well. There HAS been knitting. I did NOT get the afghan for this wedding couple finished (well....or you know, started ) but I whomped out a few warshrags of simple design, three bowls to felt (results shown later), finished the day-glo toque and started a pair of socks. Oh - and I made a couple Calorimetries. And I've made two little knit amulet bags to tuck in with the wedding present this weekend. AND there are two ladies in my circle (my boss and the wife of a colleague) who are either expecting or have been hitting the pizza WAAAAY too much. No...they're really preggers, I'm sure. Anyway, as SOON as the little tykes are born I'm going to brave widdle sweaters, I think -- and/OR widdle blankies. But I've seen one (a sweater) which was made by Crazy Aunt Purl that she insists is easy (in spite of her protestations to the contrary the woman is a KNITTER!!) and I may give it a shot. I think it's called something like "Five-Hour Sweater", which translates to "Five-Week" for me, but that's OK, and I have managed to make the "Shower-in-an-Hour" preemie cap in an afternoon. NOTE: I have a Baby Surprise sweater on the needles somewhere; I don't believe it'll ever again see the light of day.

For those who may not remember: my Yiddish upbringing prevents my even casting ON a baby garment until the little copy of Winston Churchill is present and pooping. Superstition - or, in the words of Tevye, who was clearly patterned after my great-grandfather (whom I never knew but nevermind) "TRADITION!!" And yes, I hope songs from "Fiddler on the Roof" are stuck in your head for the rest of the day.

So -- watch this space for Recollections and Photographs. I've seen the geeese.