Tuesday, April 28, 2009


I think she likes me.....

Thank you, one and all, for your support! And I'm happy to tell you that there is no longer the threat of the landlord cutting down her tree before her babies have hatched and fledged--- thanks to the chivalry of my hero, Blaine!

For some reason the landlord had refused to answer Blaine's telephone calls--- even though Blaine left friendly voice mails for him. Finally, Blaine emailed him --- and in his email he politely outlined his proposal to save the bird nest. And, finally, the landlord wrote him back and agreed to the plan.


However, after my voracious readings about the habits of white-winged doves, I have discovered that their nesting habits are delicate and fraught with hazards. Their nests are flimsy and can be blown out of the tree with a strong storm--- of which several are predicted for this area in the coming week. Also, their eggs are prime targets for "nest predators", like larger birds, neighborhood cats, and night owls --- all of which are present in this area of Overland Park. The research stated that, unfortunately, most baby doves do not live past their first year.

So I do what I call the "bird check" about every hour (or more). I am constantly peering out of our front window to check on the nest. And every time I check, I am reassured! Because one of the lovely things, either Mama or Papa, is always sitting on their nest, calm and purposeful.

(And sometimes I am treated to the interesting sight of the parent birdie "rolling"the eggs.)

Anyway, nest dangers aside--- I choose to be optimistic....because in my innermost heart, hope always springs eternal for life, love, and nature....

So let's all hope the beautiful dove family can raise their little brood without mishap!


Sunday, April 26, 2009

Blaine To The Rescue....


It is Sunday.... and, so far, the tree remains standing--- and Mama Birdie is still there, sitting on the nest...

Yesterday was a bad day.

I had believed the landlord was going to cut down the tree with Mama Birdie in it--- because that is what he had told me on Friday. He told me that he wanted to cut the tree down this weekend because it was the only weekend that he had the use of his parents' pick-up truck---and that he had to return the truck to them, in Iowa, in a few days.

And since the idea of the tree (with birdie nest) coming down caused me to be beside myself with grief, Blaine took me out for the entire day so that I would not be at home when the tree came down.

We went to a car dealer so that Blaine could test-drive a vehicle he wants to purchase. We also went to "Whole Foods" and got some of their healthy foods like pecans, walnuts, wheat wildberry bars, Brazilian coffee, and fresh fruits.

I fretted for most of the day. I couldn't get excited about the possibility of a new car, or the shopping, or anything at all. And at the end of the day I didn't want to come home to a tree-less house....

I especially didn't want to come home to a birdie-less house.

I couldn't even enjoy the fact that the spectacularly beautiful redbuds are in bloom right now.

In the afternoon, Blaine took me to eat at The Bronx deli. But we couldn't put off the inevitable---- and so Blaine finally had to bring me home.

And lo and behold.....

The trees still stood.

What the deuce?

We did notice that the landlord had been busy. He had finished power-washing the back deck--- and he had replaced a loose board there. He had also piled some bags of cement in the front by the porch.

But I still couldn't understand what had happened about the trees. The landlord had definitely told me that he planned on cutting down the trees yesterday because of the limited time frame of which he would have possession of his parents' truck. And my mind raced with the possibilities...

Had he had a change of heart? Did he feel too guilty? Had he viewed the sweet Mama-Birdie and felt pity for her? Had his tree-cutting helpers canceled on him? Had he under-estimated just how large a job it would entail to cut down those trees and then haul them away? WHAT GIVES????

I wanted to know---and the suspense was killing me. (I was even getting a little angry.)

I peeked out the window all the rest of the afternoon and then the night, trying to decipher what the landlord was up to. I noticed that he and his roommate received guests in the early evening, and then they all went out--- not to return until the wee hours of the morning.

And then today he is not home.

So what the hell?? Because, according to him, he has to return that damn truck very soon.

Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer, and when Blaine returned from an errand, I asked him to call the landlord and find out what is going on. And then Blaine answered me in his usual calm, reassuring way..... and he said:

"Actually, I already called him while I was out at my brother's house this morning. He didn't answer but I left him a message asking him to call me. I'm going to tell him that if it's just a matter of the use of a pick-up truck for hauling the lumber, then I am willing to let him use my own truck--- on the condition that he waits until the birds' eggs hatch and the babies grow up."


I had never even considered that solution --- because Blaine has never let anything or anybody TOUCH his precious truck. He has always liked to keep it pristine. I NEVER, in my wildest dreams, thought he'd even CONSIDER hauling heavy, dirty, truck-scratching trees in its bed.

So that's the plan. Blaine is waiting for the landlord to return his call--- and I'm just sitting here twiddling my thumbs... wondering and waiting....

.... and knitting....

And on this very windy day, in which the frequent gusts are causing both our window shades and the birdie's tree branches to wave back and forth --- lovely little Mama-Birdie continues to sit precariously on her little nest......incubating her eggies....


Saturday, April 25, 2009

Legal vs. Sinful?...

Why do the birds go on singing?
Why do the stars glow above?
Don't they know it's the end of the world?....
("End of the World", Skeeter Davis)


If you look closely at the above picture, on the left side you can see the little dove sitting on her dear nest---blissfully unaware that our landlord plans to cut down her tree today, despite all my best efforts at convincing him otherwise.

God knows I tried to prevent this tragedy. Thanks to you readers, I did as you guys suggested and called the local authorities to see if I could legally prevent the removal of the tree. But I didn't have any luck.

One call was to "Beak & Wing", a non-profit bird organization based in nearby Shawnee. I spoke to a kind gentleman there---and after I explained everything, he sadly told me that, unfortunately, unless the nest had already hatched the fledglings, that it is not illegal to cut the tree down.

But he had this to say about our landlord: "Although it is not illegal, it is definitely IMMORAL to cut down that tree".

Immoral, indeed.

Yesterday afternoon I saw the two parent doves "changing shifts" for sitting on the nest, whereby one bird left the nest and the other one took over. (I know there's one egg---and the guy at "Beak & Wing" stated that there's probably a second one by now.)

As the doves switched, one dove seemed unafraid of me--- and allowed me to take a couple of the below pictures of it from a distance, for which I was grateful--- because I'm going to enlarge the pictures, print them out, and keep them as a keepsake. Isn't it a sweet-looking dove?

I asked the question to the cosmos last night --- and I'm asking again --- what kind of person would cut down a tree with a dove's nest and eggs in it? What kind?

And then Blaine worriedly announced that he thinks I'm headed into a "depression" --- and even though I protested, he adamantly insisted that he is going to take me away from the house today. He made an appointment with a car dealer to go perform a test drive of a vehicle he wants to purchase. Then he said he wants to go to "Whole Foods" and get some of their wonderful, organic food items.

Without any fight left in me, I acquiesced. And so that's the plan--- because Blaine simply wouldn't hear otherwise. I know he's upset--- because last night he kept mumbling to himself that he had sent an email to the landlord to try and convince the guy that "cutting down those trees will cause rainwater to flood the basement".

(And my mother didn't mince words when she sent me an email stating her opinion that the landlord is an "a$$hole".)

Anyway, I guess it's probably best that I'm not here when it happens since I know that I simply couldn't bear to watch that tree come down without embarassing everybody by having hysterics or something. I'm just worried that the landlord will begin the damnable task before we leave the house--- because we're not leaving till about noon or 12:30 pm.

I don't know what to do....

I don't seem to be able to come to grips with this very well...

I tell you, I just don't know what to do.

But this I know for sure--- and I don't care what the law says--- and I don't care how much my friends and relatives think I'm getting "too dramatic" about the whole thing--- but I agree with the guy at Beak & Wing--- I think it is IMMORAL--- nay, a SIN--- to cut down that tree!


We roar all like bears,
and mourn sore like doves:

we look for judgment,

but there is none:

for salvation, but it is far off from us.

- Isaiah (ch. LIX, v. 11)


Friday, April 24, 2009

Am I The Only One Who Thinks It A Tragedy???...

Okay, so the day started out great....

The Mama-Birdie got spooked by a noise or something and flew off the nest for about 20 minutes. Naturally, I swooped by and grabbed a quick pic---and there's the first precious little eggie.

White-winged doves generally lay two eggs, and the parent birds take turns sitting on the nest while they're incubating.

All day long I peeked out the front window to check and see if Mama (or Papa) Birdie was okay---and each time I looked, she (or he) was sitting there so prettily, perched on the sweet nest, keeping the eggie warm.

It filled my heart with complete joy each time I peeked out the window and spied them there, steadfastly nurturing their eggie, doing what birdies have been doing ever since God created them...

Also during the day, I nervously watched our new landlord--- because he was making a terrible racket in the back, power-washing both our deck and his own with a horribly noisy contraption. I didn't want anything to disturb the birdies at this critical part of the eggie-laying process, you know?

Finally, just about a half an hour ago, he finished up, to my great relief.

And then he knocked on the front door.

And then he informed me that he is going to be cutting down those trees by our front porch tomorrow. He said (and I quote): "My mother drove by and thinks those trees are too big and bushy for this duplex. She thinks landscaping would be a better 'look'."

I told him that a beautiful white-winged dove was there---and that she had laid an egg and was probably going to lay another one. I told him that I'd done the research and found that the eggs will incubate for about 2 weeks and then the babies would take another 2 weeks to hatch and grow up---so that the whole thing would only take a month.

He replied (and I quote): "But I have the truck to do the hauling of the lumber THIS weekend."

I showed him the pictures. I told him all about my mockingbirds back in Texas in '07. I showed him the mockingbird pictures. I told him how much I loved birds.

I begged.

But he said that it's his building and he is going to do like "his mother said" and put landscaping there.

He did offer this one comfort (and I quote): "I'll cut down that tree last."

Blaine and everybody says I just have to accept it---that it's an inevitability that I can't control. They say I should stop taking it so hard...

But I am taking it hard.

It absolutely BREAKS my heart to think of that tree getting chopped down--- and then the nest and eggies cast asunder. I can't stop imagining the confusion of the Mama and Papa Birdies when it happens.

I can't think of it.

I won't think of it.

Dammit all to hell, I have never been able to "not" think about something that breaks my heart.

I will think of it... all night tonight and.... tomorrow.

What kind of person chops down a tree knowing there's a Mama Birdie sitting on a nest with eggs in it? I ask you---what kind? *


Oh, goody goody gum-drops!

Yesterday the Mama-Birdy flew madly, back and forth, to build her nest in the tree on our front porch. She worked all day long.

So I snapped a picture of the nest while she was away--- it's such a sweet little nest! And I do believe, by looking at Mama-Birdy's markings (and also by listening to her soft and beautiful "coo-ings") that she is a Kansas white-winged dove.

And then look what's going on this morning.....she is sitting very still, calm, and not moving.....

She's definitely laying some eggies!!

* Oh goody! Oh goody! Oh goody!

The Lord makes such beautiful things....

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Something Eggy This Way Comes... (I Hope)....

There I was, innocently minding my own business, knitting my stupid head off, trying to figure out which color to knit next--- when I noticed Leonard perk up his ears towards the window.

What did he hear?

At first I thought he might be nervous because a storm was brewing outside...

Because sure enough, it started to thunder and rain...

And then I saw it---

A pretty little dove bird flew into the tree flanking the front porch....

And the dove was carrying a twig in its beak.....

(You know... the stuff they makes nests with!!!) (Oh goody goody!!! Oh goody goody!!!)

So I ventured a peek....(I didn't want to alarm the birdies).... and I snapped a quick photo of the tree, there at the end of the porch, but I snapped it so fast that the pic is rather blurry---- but during my quick peek I saw what appeared to be some serious bird-business going on in there --- in an area at approximate eye-level, right there where the wooden beam stands...

And I felt a thrill! --- because I wondered... truly, could it be?... gulp.... could it happen for me again? Be there nest-building going on in there?

(Remember that time I discovered a nest of mockingbirds on my porch? There were two more nests with baby birds after that, but watching that first group of baby mockingbirds hatch and grow up was completely magical!)

Let's keep our fingers crossed!!!!


UPDATE (later that day):

Unable to contain myself, I waited till I saw both birdies fly away (presumably to gather more twigs for their nest.)

And I quickly stuck my hand into the edge of tree and snapped these two quick pictures---AND YES....


And then I scampered away, to leave things alone and let the birdies build their home.

Oh, I hope there'll be eggs, I hope ther
e'll be eggs, I hope there'll be eggs, I hope there'll be eggs....

Friday, April 17, 2009

When I Am Old I Shall Wear Psychedelic--- And A Psychedelic Hat

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple....

("Warning--When I Am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple", by Jenny Joseph)

Things I Do Which Blaine Claims Drives Him Insane

(or: Things I Do Which I Think Are Perfectly Fine But Other People Don't Think So But I Don't Give a Dang What They Think)


1. Blaine claims that I frequently "embarrass him" at Walmart.

Well, what the hell. Okay, so once when we were shopping there he made a rude comment about me "not having a brain" -- and in reply I energetically burst out singing the Wizard of Oz Scarecrow Song "If I Only Had a Brain" while merrily dancing down the middle of the canned foods aisle.

(And let me add here that I did get applause.)

He also doesn't like it when I sometimes make exuberant declarations which nearby Walmart shoppers can hear, like "For God's sakes, Blaine, why should we spend a fortune on brand-name cat food when the stupid cats aren't even GRATEFUL?"

But, truly, I think his complaint is completely invalid because there are times when Blaine creates a scene himself by farting loudly and then exclaiming: "Bo!" --- like it was me who farted, which usually results in both of us dissolving into waves of mad giggling to the stares of nearby shoppers.


2. Blaine complains that I talk to myself.... all the time.

Okay, they say that talking to yourself is okay just as long as you don't "answer yourself". But I will admit here that I not only answer myself, but I hold debates with myself, argue with myself, plead with myself, bargain with myself--- and sometimes hold a round table discussion group among several of my selves.

And well....like the other day. I may have been spotted on the makeup aisle in CVS Drugstore having a discussion with myself about the benefits of a new Covergirl foundation. I was debating the fact that their new foundation contains Oil of Olay Regenerist face cream, but their other foundation is much less expensive. However, I argued with myself, I needed to figure in the fact that I had a $2 off coupon for the expensive foundation---and that Blaine was going to get $3 off our total bill because he had accumulated store points with the use of his CVS "store card"---which would mean that I could get the expensive foundation for $13.99 minus $2.00, minus another $3.00 --- which comes to a grand total of.....

...and then Blaine spied me and rudely exclaimed: "What in the HOLY HANNAH are you talking to yourself about NOW?"

(Once I pretended to be talking to a potted plant when my therapist, Fred, came to retrieve me for our appointment. The utter mortification on his face was totally worth whatever crap he subsequently scribbled about me on his ever-present little notepad.....)


3. Blaine says my habit of talking "at" the television irritates him.

But I can't help it---things just burst out of me, you know? Like if we're watching the Nancy Grace show and it shows some heinous criminal denying everything, I might blurt out "Wait till the jury sees what's on your computer's hard drive, you MURDERER! "

Or, like when I see yet another fast-talking infomercial host talking about how some kitchen product only costs $19.99--- and then he adds that you can get a second appliance for free if you call "in the next ten minutes"--- I might holler out at the TV: "Do you think I'm stupid? It's not really 'free' if you jack up the 'shipping & handling' charges to TWICE the actual worth of the thing!"

(Which they do, you know?)

And about those ads which promise something if you "call in the next ten minutes" --- if I see one of those ads I might call their 800 phone number and ask: "Okay, did I make the ten-minute deadline?" And when the person replies with a yes, I'll blurt: "WRONG! You're lying! I waited a full 18 minutes to call! So if you guys are lying about the ten-minute thing, then why should I believe anything else you say about this product?" while Blaine rolls his eyes...

Or else when I'm watching "Gordon Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares" I might tell the restaurant owner on the screen to just "hush up and make the meatballs like Gordon says or your stupid restaurant is going to go bankrupt and your mother will be out on the street".

Blaine will invariably sigh and ask "Why do you talk to the people on the damn TV when you know they can't hear you?"

(I don't know. But I do know that a TV doesn't talk back.)


4. Blaine thinks it's "cruel" that I torment telemarketers or creditors who call our home.

The minute an annoying telemarketer asks for myself or Blaine, I quiz them with: "Are you a telemarketer or creditor?" and then listen to them squirm while making excuses.

Or else I'll say: "You just pronounced my last name wrong---and unless you pronounce it correctly I'm going to hang up on you." And then I'll laugh maniacally and say: "Nice try, but NO CIGAR, stoogerino!" each time they make another fruitless attempt to pronounce it correctly.

Another time I might feign timidity while fearfully asking: "Um...who is calling, please?" And then when the caller repeats themself, I'll suddenly SCREAM at the top of my lungs something like "DAMMIT, I ASKED YOU WHO THE HELL YOU ARE!" and then laugh like a hyena.

(But my favorite is when I'll ask in a friendly tone: "Could you hold on a second?" and then put the phone down....for several hours.)


5. Blaine thinks it's ridiculous that I send "complaint" emails to companies who irritate me.

Okay, so I sent one to Quizno's Subway Sandwiches because I object to their current TV ads where a sandwich oven is talking to the cook in an erotic tone, referring to how they "both enjoyed" some prior physical event (upon which statement the cook looks down at his private area)---and then the oven demands that the sandwich cook "put the torpedo-shaped sandwich in him". And then, additionally, the oven instructs the cook to repeat the cost of the torpedo-shaped sandwich in a "sexy manner".

For all that is holy, spare me this sordid type of advertising!!

I'm sorry, but I think that a sandwich oven lewdly begging to have a torpedo-shaped sandwich "put into him" is a disgusting method of advertising. Give me a break! What if children hear that? Call me a prude, but I think this commercial is just outright SANDWICH PORNOGRAPHY.

Because what happens if the poor cook refuses to be goaded into participation in such sexual activities? Would he then be discriminated against for his refusal? Would he be retaliated against by the "good ole ovens network"? I believe that this ad sexually objectifies sandwich cooks. And thus, I think that victimized Quizno's sandwich cooks have every right to sue for sexual sandwich discrimination.


6. Blaine complains that I like to buy "tacky", useless souvenirs whenever we're traveling.

So what if I like the typical "souveniry" stuff that you find in any airport, beach shop, or cruise ship dock? What's wrong with that?

(Is 'souveniry' a word?)

It happens every time Blaine and I go on vacation. He'll be in a hoity-toity shop buying some elegant Battenburg lace napkins or crystal candlesticks --- and I'll be outside on the curb bartering with a wizened old street vendor for a sugar bowl shaped like a big smiling lobster--- with matching salt and pepper shakers shaped like the lobster's claws.


7. Blaine says I have too soft of a heart and tip too much at restaurants and the beauty parlor.

Hey, those poor waiters and waitresses work their butts off for minuscule wages and so I feel sorry for them. And absolutely NOBODY in this entire town but Shirley knows how to cut my hair. She's the only hair stylist in Kansas who knows what the "Farrah Fawcett haircut" is.

(And I'm so very weary of teeny-bopper hair stylists who reply: "Don't you mean 'The Rachel'?")


8. Blaine thinks it's wacky that I believe in angels--- and that they are hanging around nearby.

But seriously, haven't you ever wondered what in the hell your stupid cats are looking at that YOU CAN'T SEE? My cats are constantly looking at "something" in the air over me--- and their eyes follow it all around the ceiling of whichever room I'm in---and it drives me crazy that I can't see whatever the hell they're seeing.

Because I'm telling you, they're definitely seeing something. Call me crazy, but I'm convinced there's SOMEBODY there.....and I have been told that it is angels.

And so I choose to believe that it IS angels. (Who else would it be?)


9. Blaine thinks I'm crazy for making remarks to the above-mentioned angels.

It just irks Blaine no end when I say to an invisible angel: "Hey--you there! Don't go telling The Lord that I covet our neighbor's new Rav4 Sport Edition with 4-wheel drive. My damn Jeep is shot to hell. And oh yeah--- please also don't tell The Lord that we never go to church..."

Blaine will always roll his eyes and sigh, while remarking something like: "I don't think the Lord needs a silly angel to tattle on you---He can see what you're doing His-own-dang-Self!"

And then I reply right back: "Hey, it says right there in the dadgum Bible that angels are MESSENGERS, Blaine --- MESSENGERS!"


10. Blaine doesn't appreciate my oft-used habit of heavy sarcasm.

For example, once, after tiring of Blaine's endless sophmoric attempts to amuse himself with loud farting, I thought I had devised a way to embarrass him. And so the next time he made a really loud and long fart-- and then looked at me with his usual idiotic proud expression--- I put on a bored expression and wordlessly held up an Olympic Games "score card" on which was written a shameful score of "2.5".

(But my tactic failed miserably when Blaine calmly retorted: "Oh, I think that one merited at least a '6'....")


11. Blaine thinks it's stupid that I ridicule TV commercials for not being more "honest" about what they're really trying to say.

I mean, for God's sakes, don't you get tired of those Activia yogurt commercials where Jamie Lee Curtis claims that the yogurt helps her "sluggish digestion"? Just once I'd like to hear her say: "This yogurt helps me poop better".


12. Blaine says some of my pranks are "moldy oldies".

Okay, I admit it--- whenever a hapless pharmacist asks on the microphone at the Walgreen's Pharmacy drive-thru window "Can I help you?" --- I nearly always reply with "Pardon me, but do you have any Grey Poupon?"

(The other times I might reply with: "Uh..yeah... I'd like two Big Macs, a medium fries....um... and a cheeseburger Happy Meal with a female toy, two apple pies, and a Diet Coke. Thanks.")

) One time a sassy pharmacist replied with: "We have Pepsi, not Coke"...


13. Blaine claims that living with me is resulting in his being "color brainwashed", due to my love of knitting with bizarre, psychedelic color combinations.

When I modeled the just-completed Mystery Project (which he had previously ridiculed as looking like "Mrs. Bozo's Jacket") he was extremely surprised to find that he truly liked it---but then he just as quickly exclaimed: "Oh, geez--- either I'm starting to actually like your weird stuff..... or I'm just as crazy as you are!"

(I have NEVER claimed to be sane....but I do take offense at the words "weird stuff"...)


14. Blaine thinks it's ridiculous that I enter what he calls "dumb contests".

Okay, BIG DEAL---so I entered the "Design Your Own Dunkin' Doughnut" contest. I defy anybody to come up with a more delicious and attractive bar-shaped doughnut than my "Bo's Kansas Cornfield Silo".


15. Blaine doesn't appreciate some of my frequent practical jokes.

Okay, so one time I replaced the "wallpaper" screen on Blaine's computer with a photo I had taken of him bending over, revealing a large portion of his...um.... buttocks area.

But if you could have seen the mortified expression on his face as he watched his derriere appear on the screen--HEH!---it totally cracked me up.

(Get it? Cracked me up? Get it?)

(....I guess you had to be there...)


Wednesday, April 15, 2009

The Dream....


If you ever thought that dreams don't come true, then (grab your hankie) and listen to this wonderful lady---because after listening to her, you'll come to know that dreams really DO come true!



I dreamed a dream in time gone by

When hope was high

and life worth living,

I dreamed that love would never die,

I dreamed that God would be forgiving...

* *

Sing it, Susan!!! You sing it girl!


Monday, April 13, 2009

sshhh....Spring Is Coming.....


And the star rains its fire while the beautiful sing...
("There's A Song In The Air", Josiah G. Holland, 1819-1881)


(See the birdie?)

I went for a walk today...

It had just finished raining...

And so I gazed skywards so that leftover raindrops would fall on my face...

I stomped in mud puddles on purpose, not caring a fig that people driving by probably thought I was nutsy-cuckoo.

I mailed Blaine's tax documents to the Infernal Internal Revenue Service.

I jaywalked...

I went to 7-11 and had a coffee while turning in the scratch-off tickets that I had found in my Easter Egg--- for which I won a grand total of $18.

(Eighteen bucks---not bad, eh?)

I took pictures of my fine feathered friends, the neighborhood's birdies.

(Too bad my inexpensive camera doesn't do "zoom" shots so well.)

Happy Springtime, everybody...


Friday, April 10, 2009

Hippity Hoppity, All The Way Down The Damn Green Bean Trail....


Okay..... deep breath here....

But you know, sometimes I reach the point where I just want to stand on my rooftop and scream out to the cosmos....

I want to scream out the universal, never ending, quintessential, penultimate (and so forth) question...

I want to know, by God!

WHY, Lord, WHY?


I repeat--- why????

Why is it that for every single dang holiday family dinner I get ordered assigned to make the damn Green Bean Casserole?

Why can't I make something else for Easter Dinner?

Is this all because of that regrettable Cilantro Incident?

I mean, I've been assigned to make the stupid Green Bean Casserole for Blaine's family holiday dinners since 1993. Why can't I make something else? Would it tear a hole in the universe if I made the scalloped potatoes? Would it rend the fabric of the space/time continuum if I made the ham? Would it cause an international incident if I made the hot rolls? Would it worsen the national debt if I made the chocolate cake? Would it ruin political relations with Canada and Mexico if I made the marshmellowed yams?

Would it upset the ecology of the 2 million acres of Kansas wheat fields if I made the dadgum salad?

I ask you, WHY?

Saturday, April 04, 2009

The Greatest Knitting Show on Earth....

Jackie Blue...

likes a dream that can never come true...

("Jackie Blue", Ozark Mountain Daredevils) *


* Okay, they say everybody gets fifteen minutes of fame.

And, I.... um... was asked by a really cool online Spanish/English magazine, Yareah.com, if I'd like to be featured in this month's issue (Issue No. 6)--- in the "Art" section.

This month they are doing the Art Section on.... um... "Ugliness". And they wanted to feature my beloved Pinwheel Sweater.

Along with the photos of the Pinwheel Sweater and some information on my background, they also requested a photograph of me, and so I gave them one from my university cheerleading days.

(But I've gone double-colored blonde recently.)

Here's the link to my article (Article No. 7, titled simply "Bo") in Yareah.com.

Okay, okay. So it's in there under "Ugliness". I really don't mind. I mean, beauty and ugliness are relative terms --- and totally in the eye of the beholder, right?



But hey, I'm very flattered and happy to have been featured at all.

But, however .... all this talk about real or imagined ugliness doesn't help my growing fears and discomfort towards my current "Mystery Project" --- a knitting project which Blaine calls "Mrs. Bozo's Sweater".

The other day he actually thought he was hilarious for hollering out: "Bozo's wife called --- and she wants her sweater back!"

Very funny. But okay, so I may have gone a little too wild with the colors. I always have. My old knitting teacher, a darling German lady, used to say in her charming German accent: "Bo, you are so brave wiz zee coleurs--- you should haf been German.

And I'm proud to be brave wiz zee coleurs and told that I should have been German, truly I am --- and I don't give a tinker's damn that Fred, my therapist, regards my taste in colors as a "symptom" of my... uh... mental condition.

So, to that end, I have decided to continue knitting my Mystery Project defiantly --- into a sweater of which a clown's wife could be proud.....

( I wonder if Yareah.com would like to feature my Mystery Project in their next issue.... perhaps in a section called... say... "Apres Circus"?)