Yay! The SBC guy fixed it! We were out of phone and DSL service all day yesterday. Didn't realize how much of an internet junkie until it was gone.
First off, in the "it ain't no fun if it ain't illegal" catagory... Just because a person dislikes someone brazenly breaking the law doesn't mean that person is unpatriotic, against our military, and supports terrorism. Just saying. Actually, I feel bad for Nixon and his family. The guy was vilified for doing things equal to and even lesser than our current President. Nixon was the butt of jokes for many years, was a pariah, and why? Half our country voted the current guy into office, will defend him no matter what, but then will laugh at Nixon's disgrace. Obviously, one man's trash IS another man's treasure.
Whew, rant over. In knitting news... here are the current works in progress. My second sock is there, as is Fry's new sweater. Fun fun! The cuff is done from the earlier post, not a lot else has been done. I've been trying to clean, but just haven't been motivated until today when the SBC guy appeared at the door. Eeek. Since the connection is up, I'm clearing out the emails, catching up on my fave knitting blogs, THEN knocking out the clean house checklist.
We delivered the newspapers yesterday, lots of fun hanging out with the Fry. For some reason I thought of a cute story from my childhood that cracks me up every time I think of it.
I'm fuzzy on the details, so feel free, Mom, to comment and fill in the blanks. Ok, we had just moved to Oklahoma, so I must have been almost in first grade, about five years old. Toppa was two, and us girls, Mom, Toppa, and I, were out with a friend of Mom's and the friends two kids. It just so happens that Mom was driving that day and had to go through a license check roadblock thingy. If I were five, then Mom was 25. She, even after two kids, was tall, thin, and gorgeous. Did the police looking at her Texas license notice her beauty? Yep! Now that I know guys, I know that one of them saying "Looks like I'm going to have to take you to jail," was a flirt, not a statement of fact.
As a child (and let's pretend I outgrew it, ok?) I was the queen of melodrama. When I heard "Mom" and "jail" in the same sentence, I screeched like a banshee and wrapped my arms around my Mom from behind in what must have been a death grip on her neck. Ever the me-too type, Toppa joined in the screaming and crying, which led to the other two kids rounding out the chorus. I do remember the other cop saying something like "Why'd you say THAT?"
Somewhere, there's a psychologically scarred old police officer instructing the cadets, "Whatever you do, DON'T say 'jail' to a Mom unless you mean it." That poor guy, poor Mom and her neck.