1.31.365: A big, scary machine

To tell my not-so-tiny, frightened girl that she needs glasses.

This shot doesn’t accurately portray her displeasure over this announcement.

1.28.365: Super Jackasaurus Rex

Remember way back in October when I made him this cape and he refused to wear it?

Here, let me remind you: Look closely to the background here and you’ll see him laying on the ground crying about how terrible his mother is for putting him in a cape:

We’re over that stage.

Now capes are SUPER AWESOME FUN TIME! Woot!

1.27.365: Casting on is not for old people.

I don’t care what anyone in my life tells me, knitting doesn’t mean you’re old.

I’m making gloves, because my hand are cold. I’m also never, ever going to knit anything for the people who keep telling me I’m an old lady because I knit. NEVER.

1.24.365: I like lists

It’s probably my Mom’s OCD coming out but I just can’t get enough of them.

Seriously, nothing makes me happier than crossing something off my To-Do list. Sometimes I put things on there I did earlier, just to cross it off. Good times, people, good times.

Also, all those strangely edited blurry parts are not blank, they are full of incriminating email addresses. I thought it best not to advertise everyone’s phone numbers and emails to the world. You are welcome, clients and random internet people.

 

1.23.365: Waiting for my brain to catch up.

I used to love the rain. I thought it was charming and fun. Then I moved out of Southern California and the The Land that Weather Forgot, and I realized that anything is charming and fun when it only happens twice a year. When it happens every day for months straight? It sort of loses its appeal.

Still, it takes a few weeks for my brain to catch up with this idea. So every winter, when it starts the rainy season, my brain shorts out and starts going on and on about how quaint the sound of rain on a tin roof sounds, how delightful it is to jump in puddles, and how there is nothing better in life than a new umbrella and a pair of polka-dot rain boots.

In a week or so when it’s still raining and I haven’t seen blue sky in what seems like a life time, my brain will catch up and remind me that we hate to be wet and cold, we love the sun and heat, and we never want to see another flippin’ mud puddle again.

Until then, I’ll just enjoy the moment.

1.20.365: The best thing about January.

Until I lived in central California, I didn’t realize oranges were a winter fruit. Oranges say summer to me. I was shocked to find out they aren’t. In the winter, they are sweet perfection; in the summer, they are bland and dry.

It’s better this way. Now I think oranges are tiny slices of summer that come visit me just when I need an escape from the bleakness of winter.

1.17.365: Working Girl

I love special requests.

I like pretty much every part of the work I do: logo designs, web sites, paper goods. I don’t even mind the coding. But I really love when someone contacts me with a “So…. Do you think you could…?” request. Because probably I could. And, probably I wouldn’t have thought to go in that direction on my own.

Like a bowling party. I don’t think it would have occurred to me that there are bowling parties, or that people would want bowling party themed cupcake toppers and wraps. Then some one asks me to make something and the skies open up with possibilities.

Although, I have spent the last three days explaining to my kids that Yes, this is a party for a little girl, but NO, they are not invited. Also, Yes, this is the luckiest little girl in the world because she gets to have a bowling party, but NO, I will not call her mom up to ask if she’d like to have two extra girls at the party. And YES, Canada is very, very far away and NO, I will not be buying two round trip tickets to a bowling party in Canada.

Gah.

1.14.365: This is not funny

I woke up, made some coffee, sauntered over to my computer, turned it on, and …

OH HOLY SHIT!!!!!! Don’t blink!

Seriously. Am. Terrified.

Then I heard the Husband laughing. This is his idea of a joke. NOT FUNNY.

1.9.365: Happy Birthday?

I’m sick.

Sick, sick, sick.

My head is gunky, my lungs are gunky, my brain has stopped working, I had a fever last night for the first time in years.

Still, there is birthday cake in my future, made by someone other than me, so it can’t be all bad.

1.7.365: Kickin’ it.

It doesn’t look comfortable but he’s sleeping, so who am I to judge?