Friday, December 7, 2012

The Scarf Continues to Grow

The Androids of Tara
"If you keep burning my scarf, you're going to have to kill me!"
The guard had zapped the Doctor's scarf with his nifty electric-sword-thingy, and the Doctor was just *not* having that!

Just a quick little blurry cell phone picture of my Doctor Who scarf. I've taken to rolling it and using binder clips on the ends to contain it as I work on it.

Here, you can see, it almost stretches as long as my mom's living room. The leg on the upper left is my husband's. The legs in the bottom are mine, and I'm sitting with my back up against the lvoe seat in her living room, which is up against a wall. I haven't taken an actual measurement of it yet. My mom just asked if it ever gets cold enough in Virginia to ever wear a scarf like this. When I said no, she asked why I would make something like this.

I've changed the grey yarn into navy blue, because I had navy blue and I thought it would match the other warm tones of the yarns better than the grey would.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

I'm At Antique Archeology, Bitches!!!!

On this trip home, I told my husband I really wanted to go to LeClaire, IA to the Antique Archeology shop. I didn't get a chance to head out that way the last time I was home.

This is, of course, the home base of American Pickers on the History Channel.

I got a little excited when I saw the Studebaker sitting out front. I had high hopes of a Danielle sighting, but alas, it was not meant to be.

When you go inside, it's mostly stuff on display that they've bought (the "smalls") and souvenirs for sale. You can also buy some of the stuff they've picked. There is a second story inside, so obviously, that's where Danielle works, because downstairs in the gift shop area, there's another chick working that I've never seen before. For what it's worth, I heard that Danielle was in Chicago, and "the boys" were out picking. And realistically, you can't expect Danielle to be able to run the gift shop, find leads, sell stuff, and deal with lookie-loo's like myself.

If you look closely at the picture, you can see an open back end on a blue van in the parking lot behind the Studebaker. There were two guys inside, trying to sell something. The other chick told them that she could take a picture of the item (some kind of old heavy wooden box with something in it that was more female related) to send to Mike's phone but he'll just lose the picture. So, she was going to call Mike's brother, Rob, down to the shop to take a look at it. If it was something Rob wasn't interested in, then she was going to direct the seller to another antique seller/appraiser in town named Mushroom, and he'd probably be interested in it. For the record, we didn't stick around long enough to see the contents of the box.

Random Dumbness

This is an actual conversation I had with my sister last night (she's five years younger than me). We were sitting in the kitchen with my mom, getting ready to break the wishbone from the turkey my mom made. We had an early Christmas while at home.

Lissy: Now listen up, we have to wish for the same thing, because I really need my wish to come true. (She was standing next to me, looking dead ass serious, like she was holding the wishbone hostage, clutched tightly in her hand, out of my reach.)
Me: (I was sitting at the kitchen table.) Oh hell no, I want a chance at my wish. Gimme! (I reached for the wishbone before she had a chance to complain.)

We crack the wishbone. I got the bigger half and should have won my wish.

Lissy: God damn it, what did you wish for? I wanted to wish that Lilly would get better! (Lissy had recently got a new kitten named Lilly, that appeared to have had a stroke because she started dragging one of her hind legs.)
Amy: A new job.
Lissy: What? (Kind of pissed off.)
Amy: Look, I'm gonna kill someone at work eventually, so I need all the help I can get to get the hell out of there!

My mom was leaning up against the kitchen counter, listening to all of this. She started to fake indignation.

Mom: What the hell, did I raise a bunch of selfish dorks?

We both look at her.

Me and Lissy together: What?

Mom: (Gesturing at herself.) What about me? ONE of you couldn't wish for my cancer to go away???

The three of us actually laughed and laughed over it.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Sometimes, Holistic Methods Just Don't Work

A quick entry today, reporting in from my family's homes in Iowa. About four days before I left on this trip, I caught a cold. I think I've narrowed it down to 1 of 3 suspect co-workers, one of them being a nurse who can't afford to go to the doctor because her insurance hasn't kicked in yet (oh great, so this stupid cow is going to make her patients even sicker, never mind the fact they are already on hospice, and their families sick as well).*

Anyhoo, I've been drugging myself up like crazy, and in an effort to get rid of this cold and NOT pass it along to my mom, I'm trying something new. I'm still using throat lozenges, DayQuil, NyQuil, Breath Right Strips, and guzzling green tea, I've added apple cider vinegar into the mix.

"Drink it! Yes, that may seem radical or unappealing, but it only takes a teaspoon of it a day. Mix it in some juice or tea and you might not even notice. The benefits of apple cider vinegar are so great that a little distaste shouldn't steer you away," according to one of those eHow pages.

I gotta call bullshit on this. I've been drinking a teaspoon of apple cider vinegar, mixed with a couple tablespoons of honey, for four days now. It's done nothing for me except make my stomach hurt. The taste, even with the honey, is horrendous and it doesn't hide the vinegar taste/smell. My cold is the same now as when I started the vinegar. I think this is what evil must taste like. Or maybe the sweat from Osama Bin Ladin's beard, once the seawater from his burial at sea has been rung out of it.

I think I'm going to stick with the drugs and just ride this cold out.

*An after thought here: I know I have the kind hearted blogger badge on the blog here and calling her a stupid cow is the opposite of being a kind hearted blogger. But come on...we have those doc in a box places all over the place out here, Patient First, that she could go to. She tried telling us they would charge her $400 before even touching her and they had to be paid in full.** That's something else I call B.S. on, and so did some of our co-workers. Instead, she's STILL walking around with a germ filled hanky, held over her mouth, coughing into it like she's trying to expel the Devil from her lungs. For a while, she didn't even have a voice but continued to try talking, or squawking or rasping or however you would describe it. That's the kind of nurse we are sending into people's homes.

**I've been to one of those places once. They treated me and sent me a bill afterwards.