The Quicker-Crapper-Picker-Upper.....

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You can't see the mornin', but I can see the light; ride, ride, ride, let it ride. While you've been out runnin' I've been waitin' half the night; ride, ride, ride, let it ride...

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("Let It Ride", Bachman, Turner Overdrive)

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Ah, Blaine..... there's no more decent and loving sort of guy.

Blaine and I are extremely close. In fact, we're so close that sometimes it feels like we've "grown up" together --- but that's not really true because we met in adulthood. But even so, we've known each other for 16 years, and I think that's long enough to go through several "maturing phases".

Blaine and I met in Texas and got married a couple of months later. And to my amazement, he was the only man I was ever involved with that my father approved of. On my father's dying bed he stated: "I know that Blaine will take care of you."

This was a definite personal compliment on Blaine's responsible and honorable nature, and also a reference to the fact that I've always been considered "flighty" (translation: crazy--- or insane, depending on which family member you ask) and reckless (translation: impulsive--- and sometimes self-destructive due to my alcoholism...)

But let's not go there right now....

Anyway, Blaine and I stayed married for about 4 years before I ... er... divorced him. And then we stayed un-married--- yet still close friends--- for the next ten years as I went through a stage where I "sowed my wild oats".

(Okay, I married a biker guy and lived on a biker compound in Austin, Texas. And I also went through several rounds of 30-day treatments for alcoholism...)

But again, let's not go there right now....

And then, as you guys know, I recently returned to Blaine, here in Kansas, to live in the same house we lived in when were were married. And, to my surprise, I found that things are a little different now....

It seems that Blaine has developed some different habits than those he had ten years ago. And whodathunkit, but one of those habits is that he has become ultra-thrifty with his money. Blaine makes a very good living as a computer networker for Sprint (after a 12-year career at IBM), and he manages his money extremely well (translation: he counts every penny within an inch of its life).

But the thing is.... I am still as reckless with money as I have always been. Money practically burns a hole in my pocket. If I have it, I spend it. And due to my mother's elegant tastes and her indulgement of me, I unfortunately have very expensive tastes. And furthermore, I love expensive, imported, French things--- which may be genetic due to the fact that I have some ancestral French blood in me, who knows.

In fact, it's truly uncanny. You could plop me into a merchandise warehouse containing 10,000 items, of which 9,999 items are on sale for 75% off--- but I'll put my nose to the ground like a bloodhound and speedily sniff out the one item which is NOT on sale.

Or, you could blindfold me and place me in a crowded airport--- and I'd manually feel my way three miles over to the one shop where they sell imported French, Swiss, or Dutch items.

Every single time Blaine takes me to Blockbuster Videos to rent a movie, I pass up the cheap Hershey chocolate bars in order to fly like a homing pigeon over to the foot-long Toblerone bars.....

Sigh... I would give my eyeteeth to find some authentic "My Sin" French perfume---- which I have been searching for fruitlessly ever since I bought a rare sample from a flight attendant on a KLM Royal Dutch Airline 747....

Anyway, Blaine knows full well about my expensive tastes and inability to manage money---and it seems that he has declared it his mission in life to quell these spendthrift urges of mine.

In short, he is having none of it.

Now don't get me wrong, I do think his sensible way about money is best. For example, he has worked hard to save his money, and he has planned very carefully for important things like retirement, medical emergencies, unexpected vehicle problems, dental issues, and various and sundry other costly necessities for which I typically haven't saved a spare nickel. In fact (and I hate to admit it), no matter how much money I've ever earned (and believe me, I earned plenty when I was employed as an RN), I have never saved even a Yankee Dime due to my reckless spending habits.

These days, since I am not currently employed, Blaine supports me very generously. And thus, I really can't complain. I'm grateful, in fact. And just lately, he even personally gifted me with his treasured blue pick-up truck after buying a brand new SUV. And let me tell you, I was totally jazzed to get ahold of this fabulous pick-up truck--- especially since my trusty Jeep is nearing retirement and needs to be sold--- because it is a really beautiful truck, albeit huge, with a great stereo system. Believe me when I say that Blaine has given me dire warnings to drive very carefully with the behomoth, as I am not used to long-bed pickup trucks with huge engines, to which I solemly swore that I would faithfully adhere to...

WHOO-HOO! Lookit me! I'm drivin' a big ole honkin' Ford F-150 pickup truck with a SCREAMINGLY powerful Triton V-8 engine while listening to Bachman, Turner Overdrive on the stereo, hah hah! Catch me if you can, wheeeee! Oh yeah, and EAT MY DUST all you people on Interstate 435!!!!

Where was I?

Oh yes, Blaine is "thrifty" with cash.

Okay, okay, I'm going to go further and tell you that he is really.... uh... more than just "thrifty". In my opinion, sometimes he's downright CHEAP.

And lest anyone severely chide me for finding fault with Blaine's sensible financial habits--- especially in light of today's horrific economy--- let me just defend myself by telling you that Blaine goes way too far with his "thriftiness". And in telling you of my complaint, I'm going to have to tell you of an ongoing argument that Blaine and I have--- and let me warn you that it is over a very delicate subject.....

And so I'm going to plunge right in.... (no pun intended, as you'll see in a minute)....

Because here it is:

Blaine complains about how much toilet tissue I use.

Yes. It's. True.

He. Complains. About. How. Much. Toilet. Paper. I. Use.

Ever since I moved back in with him last year he has been griping his idgity head off about (among other things ) the exact AMOUNT of toilet tissue that I use!! Can you believe it? TOILET TISSUE! Tissue I use for my... uh... "personal needs"!!!

God in Heaven, but it's actually gotten to the point where I DREAD putting toilet tissue on our weekly grocery list. Because as sure as my name is Bo, he'll spot that item on the list and start wailing about it.

"Bo, dammit! We're out of toilet tissue AGAIN? What the hell are you doing in there?"

No lie! To my utter mortification, he regularly rails against my tissue "usage"! And I don't know how to answer him because.... I mean... what the hell ELSE would I be doing with toilet tissue except... um.... using it for what it is intended, ya know?!

Finally, after a few months of this terrorization, I finally began to feel a little indignant about the whole issue. I mean, for Christ's sakes, it's TOILET TISSUE. And there is only ONE USE for toilet tissue. I mean, if he wants to complain about "waste", there are plenty of other household items which I waste on what you could label as "unnecessary" uses.

But first, it's baffling to me that he thinks I "waste" toilet tissue--- because what the hell is the solution to this problem? Does he think I can come up with an alternative to the amount of tissue I use? Should I use less? Puh-leeze! The hygiene issues emerging from "using less" are certainly unthinkable!

WHAT alternative would he have me do? I ask you. WHAT?....

Should I drip dry for an hour or so until toilet tissue is no longer necessary? (I'd be in the damn bathroom all the live-long day---- perhaps even finding it necessary to employ the use of a fan...)

Should I borrow from the neighbors? ("Excuse me, but could I borrow a cup of toilet tissue?") (And then I'd have to pay back the loan....)

Should I use washrags? (I don't even want to THINK about the laundry implications.....)

Should I take a shower after every bathroom episode? (Surely this solution would cancel out any toilet tissue monetary savings because it would cause a huge increase in our water bill, not to mention the fact that I use expensive imported French perfumed soap and Elizabeth Arden shampoo....)

Should I .... shudder.... do what the pioneers did and use a CORNCOB?

I'm sure you get the picture.

And as I pondered before, I am clueless as to how in the hell he picked this particular item to be frugal about when I waste so many other household items with wanton abandon on a daily basis.

Hell, if you want to talk about things I waste, let me tell you that I frequently pass up making myself a scheduled meal, opting instead to satisfy my hunger by scarfing every single Pepperidge Farm cookie in the house --- and yet Blaine doesn't utter a contrary word if I write "cookies" on the grocery list yet again.

And my wastage of entire rolls of Bounty paper-towels (the so-called "quicker picker upper") would leave you breathless. For instance, I routinely waste an unholy amount of paper towels on things like writing sock-knitting notes when I can't find a notepad, blowing my nose even though there's at least 3 boxes of Kleenex lying in plain view, blotting lettuce dry instead of using the spinner or letting it air-dry, wiping up grease spots on the stove instead of using a dishrag.....

...and yet Blaine never blinks an eyelash when I scribble "Bounty Paper Towels" yet again on the grocery list.

Heck, I waste more things than just cookies and Bounty paper towels. I also waste entire bottles of Pine-Sol cleanser simply because, in addition to using it for mopping floors and cleaning toilets, I also like to regularly pour heavy amounts of it down every sink drain in the house simply because I like those areas to smell like Pine Sol.

And, strangely, Blaine couldn't care less how much Pine-Sol we buy.

I've even gone on apricot binges and eaten all of the fancy, expensive Turkish apricots he gets from "Whole Foods"---and yet he never says a word. He just stops by Whole Foods and buys more, even remembering to ask the cashier for those wonderful "handle" shopping bags that I like to use as knitting project bags.

But.... let me include "toilet tissue" on our grocery list.... and Blaine's head starts spinning around on its axis like he's demon-possessed --- and then he begins screaming financial epithets at me like a crazed Congressional budget oversight appointee.

"Good God, Bo! We've got to buy toilet tissue AGAIN? Didn't we just buy an entire case of the stuff two weeks ago? What the deuce is GOING ON in your bathroom?"

What, indeed?

Finally, the limits of my patience were reached (and I even passed the "indignant" point and approached outright "defiance")---- and so I decided to flush out this travesty of feminine household budget justice. Because, I mean, REALLY! A woman has to have some dignity in her own bathroom, you know?

And so, I resorted to the only weapon which works with Blaine.

And that is my trademark coping skill....

Sarcasm.

And so, the Great Toilet Tissue Showdown of 2009 unfolded thusly:

Yesterday I bravely made out our weekly grocery list. And I brazenly wrote out "TOILET TISSUE" as the first item on the list.

I wrote it in all CAPITAL letters. And then I highlighted it in yellow marker. And I circled it with red pen.

And then I casually showed the list to Blaine, remarking: "Oh yeah, here's the list for this Saturday's Walmart trip."

He quickly scanned the list..... and then sure enough, when he spotted the scrawled banner headlining item, his eyes bugged open like a gigged frog's, both his eyebrows knit together into one huge foreboding streak across his forehead, his face reddened and puffed up like a deranged blowfish, and he breathed orange fire out of his nostrils....

"Dammit, Bo! We're out of toilet tissue AGAIN? What on God's green earth are you doing with all that damn toilet tissue? Geez-oh-man....I swear!...."

As he thundered on, I stood there unflinchingly, and silently, while leveling a sardonic gaze at him with what I hoped was the exact same curled-lip, rudely aloof, and yet bored facial expression the cats give us whenever we address them--- but this did not cow him. And Blaine plunged on in his angry soliloquy, even attempting to "reason" with me.

"For example, Bo, you say we're 'out' of toilet tissue--- and yet I still have PLENTY of toilet tissue in MY OWN bathroom! And so why in the hell don't you have any? WHY ARE YOU OUT OF IT?? What in heckfire are you doing DIFFERENTLY in your bathroom than I am doing in mine, I ASK YOU, WHAT????"

And that was the EXACT question I was waiting for.

And thus, I calmly (and ever so sweetly) gave him my answer.

"I do the exact same thing with toilet tissue that you do, Blaine," I told him. "In fact, I welcome you into my bathroom any time you desire to check on what I do with it because, bucko, I can defend every single square of the toilet tissue I utilize."

"Don't get cute, Bo..." he warned. But it was too late. I was on a roll (sorry, no pun intended).

"Okay, let's see...." I mused, ticking off imaginary squares of toilet tissue on each of my fingers as I explained. "I use around 4 to 8 squares for a quick pee....."

"Oh, don't you dare...." he muttered. But it was too late, and so I plunged onwards...

"Yep," I replied. "About 4 to 8 squares usually does it. But that number changes if I have to take a crap. Because then I might need anywhere between 12 to 25 squares, depending on the brand of toilet tissue and the nature of the crap. Cheap store brand tissue requires in the upper spectrum of numbers of squares because it's so thin. But if I'm using Charmin' I use less squares because it's quilted and soaks things up better. And then there's the issue of whether it's a 'normal' crap, a diarrhea crap, an 'in-a-hurry-cuz-the-telephone-is-ringing-crap', or a dry 'constipated crap'...."

"Stop it, Bo---you're being an idiot," he attempted. But as I said, I was on a roll......

"But then sometimes I have to adjust the numbers if there are certain anatomical variations of the usual process," I droned. "For example, I might have to reach down to the side of the commode for a book, which may cause everything to 'spill in different directions', which then raises the number of required squares of needed tissue. You know, I really need to move that book basket closer to the commode...."

"Alright, that's ENOUGH," he exclaimed, tossing the list down on the table with an exasperated sigh, which meant that I'd won the battle. And as he stalked away with his head held high, he gave me that "you're totally insane, Bo" look--- a look which didn't phase me one single bit---- because I was prepared for it, and I gave him a "return look" of my own...

A look which conveyed a warning which said something to the effect of "...and if you so much as DARE give me one smidgen of 'attitude' while we're on the toilet tissue aisle at Walmart, you'll be sooooooo sorry--- because, ho ho, I can get even more detailed and descriptory about toilet tissue requirements for various type craps.... all within the hearing distance of hapless, unsuspecting Walmart shoppers".....

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Forgive My Obsessions....

Okay, I'll tell you what my therapist, Fred, told me today.

First of all, he said that I should overlook the fact that my entire family thinks I'm nuts because I sketch only angels.

Second, he also said that it's okay that I am obsessed with the Dove Birdies Family on our front porch. (He stated that having "compassion and "fascination" with sweet things like doves and their darling nests is a "sentimental" thing, and entirely non-worrisome in the realm between neurosis and mental illness.)

But.... he did instruct me that it would perhaps be best for me, when in the company of others, to "tone down" my ravings about the above fascinations--- as some people don't get as "passionate" as I do about such stuff.

Okay.... I can do that.

Now, have I shown you the latest pictures of the Dove Family? Look how darling they are! Sometimes I can only see one baby, as the other baby is squashed under Mama. The babies' feathers are coming in and I hope that nothing goes awry before they are able to fly away on their own.....

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Confession --- I Lost My Temper With Our Local TV Channel....

Okay, I'm going to admit here that I lost my temper with our local TV channel--- which resulted in me sending a "complaint e-mail" to their programming manager.... (okay, and maybe I sent a copy of it to the "Letters to the Editor" of the Kansas City Star newspaper).... (and it's... er... self explanatory)...

Dear Madam Editor:,

I know that I am not alone in my complaint about your tv station's excessive weather coverage.

What IS IT with you that you feel that you simply MUST interrupt our evening television shows to spend two solid hours describing every single detail of the POSSIBILITIES of what you call "severe weather", which is really just a routine spring storm? And you spare no inconsequential, boring, dumb-ass detail in your zealous desire to "scoop" other TV channels on said weather coverage, which means that we poor viewers are a totally "captive audience" while missing our regularly scheduled programming-- our favorite damn shows! And such, we are basically forced to ENDURE your ridiculously lengthy, hours-long weather 'primers' every single dadblame frigging time there are severe weather conditions!! Which aggravating ritual happens over and over and over, every time there's even a scant chance of thunder!!

(In spring, no less, when there's a stupid rain storm every other ding-dong day!)

And, additionally, you not only take endless hours of our viewing time to give us your stupid "weather lessons", but you also bore us to death discussing the behavior of your station's "weather spotters" (who chase the storms while hoping to gain a live picture of a tornado), and you EVEN talk on the phone with said spotters as they chase the stupid storms (WHICH WE COULDN'T CARE LESS ABOUT WHAT THE HELL THEY ARE DOING WITH THEIR FOOL SELVES OUT ON THE ROADS IN THE DAMN RAIN!!)---- and you are basically wasting all of our time giving us the same information that we've heard a zillion times, over and over, every single solitary time there's a spring thunderstorm---as if we'd never seen a damn rain storm in this area, GEEZ--OH-MAN!

I mean, for God's sakes! Literally every durn time there are rainy weather conditions which could result in thunderstorms, hail, straight-line winds or tornadoes---within a 50-mile radius, mind you!---your television station's weather person interrupts all programming and gives a detailed lesson on:

1. How such weather conditions can result in hail; (WE KNOW THIS ALREADY!)

2. How such weather conditions could result in a tornado; (WE KNOW THIS ALREADY, TOO, YOU IDGITY YAY-HOO!)

3. How large any resultant hail could get; (YOU'RE NEVER CORRECT ABOUT THE SIZE OF THE HAIL---AND HAIL IS HAIL, DAMMIT!!)

4. What the trajectory of the weather front could be; (even though EVERYBODY around here with even half a brain knows that most weather fronts around here travel from west to north, or from west to northeast, or sometimes from west to southeast);

5. What a tornado looks like; (JIMINY CRICKETS AND FOR ALL THAT IS HOLY, WE ALL KNOW WHAT A FRIGGING TORNADO LOOKS LIKE, DAMMIT!!!)

6. Where your weather spotters are (WE DON'T GIVE A RAT'S ASS!)

7. What your stupid intern is doing (out in the parking lot collecting hail in your pocketbook like you asked her to do when you didn't know the microphone was still on, stupid!...); (AND, AGAIN, WE DON'T GIVE A RAT'S PATOOTY ABOUT WHAT IDIOTIC MUNDANE TASK YOUR DUMB-DORA INTERN IS DOING ANY MORE THAN WE CARE ABOUT WHAT YOUR IDGITY INSANE WEATHER SPOTTERS ARE DOING!!)

....Oh, and it goes on and on and on, ad nauseum....with even MORE info that we couldn't give a tinker's damn about!

(Are you getting the picture?)

I know that you're probably thinking that all the information you give is USEFUL and GOOD for a person to know in case they're in the path of a storm--- BUT WAIT.... because you have to remember that these "weather lessons" are being given to people who live in....wait for it .....KANSAS and MISSOURI!!! YES! In frigging TORNADO ALLEY, for Christ's sakes!

Hello? Hello? THIS IS ROUTINE WEATHER HERE, you Dumb-Bunnies!!

Sigh.... For crying out loud, providing us these so-called weather 'teachings' during such routine spring storms is about as ridiculous and condescending as explaining the definition of a hurricane to people who live in Cuba or the Carribbean! Or pontificating about how the San Andreas Fault influences earthquakes to people who live in dadgum San Francisco! Or explaining rainfall to people who live in Seattle! Or fog to people in London!.....

Have I made myself clear?

Thus, my message to the guilty television channel program managers is this:

Please, in the future, STOP "TRAINING" US ON WEATHER 101.... because believe me--- as Kansas residents, we already know all the dang answers!!!

PLEASE! Only spend a few minutes on weather--- with frequent updates, of course---and thereafter simply utilize notification "banners" at the bottom or the top of the screen for ongoing coverage. Because we are dang TIRED of missing our favorite television shows to get a repetitive lesson on the myriad of possibilities which severe weather conditions could engender---BECAUSE WE KNOW THIS CRAP ALREADY, THANK YOU VERY DANG MUCH!

Otherwise, we are going to CHANGE THE CHANNEL---FOR GOOD.

(Sorry for the capitals, but I feel strongly about what I'm saying.)

Thank you,

Bo

(After I wrote my "complaint email" and punched the "Send" button, I braved the storm outside to go check on my precious baby birdies...... and they were fine. Mama Birdie was faithfully and steadfastly sitting on the nest, protectively covering her babies--- protecting them from the rainstorm, even though she herself was dripping wet in the driving rain. Good for her, the dear little thing! Bless her little heart!! Anyway, the below picture of the two babies is one I captured a couple days ago using Brian's sister's camera, which is a much better camera than mine. Heck, it's a 'National Geographic' quality camera....)

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(I will try to hold my temper in check in the future....)

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Bo's Bird Cam---Feeding Time!

Lookie! Lookie!

Alright! Mama Birdie finally "stood up" and allowed me to get some pictures of the little baby birdies!

(I think the look on her face is priceless...)

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I'm Honored!!!

Wow!! I just got notified today that my blog site has been listed in the Online Nursing Degree Guide's "Top 50 Nursing Blogs" .

Cool!! I'm honored!!!

Also, there's links there to tons of really interesting nursing blogs, differentiated by style of blogging. (I really like the funny ones!)

As for the "Bird Watch 2009", Mama Birdie is very protective of the two babies. She SITS ON THEM all day long! I wonder if they're getting tired of being under her feathery little butt? You can see one of them peeking out from under her in the below picture---the darling little thing!

She's so stubborn---every time I go out there to look, trying in vain to get a better glimpse of the babies, she stares at me with a look that says: "Nope---I'm not gonna move!" And sometimes she just turns her back on me, heh!

She trusts me, though, because she allows me to stand very close and take pictures of her.

(Bless her heart, she's probably so tired of that flash in her eyes...)

I'm really excited because tonight is the Season Finale episode of my favorite tv show "Supernatural". Okay...okay....I admit it--- I'm totally in love with the melancholy angel, Castiel. Sigh... he's so dreamy...... And I'm going to miss him until the new season starts.... waaaaah!

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Meet The Dove Family....

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The above is a picture of both Mama Birdie and Papa Birdies, about to change shifts on the nest. They trust me more, these days, and allow me to get pretty close to take pictures. But I have had a lot of difficulty finding them off the nest in order that I could take another picture of the babies--- because they still sit on the babies around the clock.

But after much patience, I was finally able to snap a quick picture (albeit a blurry one) during another "change of shift". It was thrilling to see them---they were moving about and appear bigger than my first picture of them.

Aside from my "nest watching" these days, I've been knitting a pair of psychedelic socks for my niece, as Blaine and I are planning to go visit my family in Texas for the 4th of July, when my mother is going to throw us a big barbecue.

(On this sock I used the short-row heel technique of Priscilla Wild in Charisa Martin Cairn's discussion of the "Lifestyle Toe Up Socks" method---and I had a lot less trouble with the technique due to the wonderful support and help I get from my friends in Socknitters---thank you, bunches, everybody!!!)

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Bird-uh!

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Thumper: Say "bird."

Bambi: "Bur..."

Thumper: "Bird."

Bambi: "Bur!"

Thumper: "Uh-uh. Bir-duh!"

Other rabbits: "Come on, say 'bird'...say 'bird'!"

Bambi: "Bird!"

("Bambi", author Felix Salten; and a Walt Disney movie)

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* (Note: Bo's nickname in nursing school was "Thumper"...) * *

This morning it seemed like all the neighborhood birds and animals were all twitterpated, and when I ran out onto the front porch I noticed Papa Birdie was standing guard near the Dove Family Nest....

and so I peeked into the Dove Family Tree....

And I saw that the second eggie had hatched!

And so now there are two baby dovies!!

I can say it: "Bird-uh!"

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Hark...

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The Announcement Angel has spoken.....

When the parent birdies "changed shifts" again, I was able to snap two pics of the nest---but I was trying to move extremely fast so as to click the pics and then get out of there as quickly as possible (so as not to scare the parent birdies too much)--- and so the resulting pictures are blurred....

But even so, you can see that one precious little baby birdie has hatched----and one baby is still in its eggie!

I'm trying to think of names....

And I love the serene look on Mama Birdie's face.....and she doesn't seem afraid of me anymore. I stand there and talk gently to her, and she just gazes at me with that sweet look on her face...

Bo's Vows To Ms. Birdie...

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"Oh alright.... you win. If you'll stop turning your back on me, I promise to stop staring at you while whistling the 'Final Jeopardy' suspense tune...."

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* "Okay , okay... sigh... and I'll stop with the 'birdie lamaze' jokes, too."

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Things Bo's Neighbors Might Have Overheard Bo Muttering To Herself Today...

"Tra-la-la, Tra-la-la.... Hello--- what the hell is this?"

"Okay, listen here Ms. Birdie --- and thank you very kindly for having the decency to look me in the eyeballs when I'm talking to you--- but it's been 14 days since you laid that first eggie. And 14 days is what all my exhaustive research on white-winged doves reported was the length of time for your eggies to incubate and then hatch. So then... where are your dadgum children? It's time for them to show their darling little selves!"

"Um....okay... Perhaps I didn't make myself perfectly clear in my first statement?.... and so... I'm just going to address my next statement to the durn eggies themselves, alright?"

"Hello, Eggies? Yoo-hoo? Egglets? Dammit, is anybody in there listening? When the hell are you two going to hatch? What are you waiting for--- a dang engraved invitation? Hey! LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

"Don't make me come IN THERE!"

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Angels and Birdies.....

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I'm waiting patiently for the eggies to hatch.

(And I must not be too worried about the "swine flu pandemic" since I've got a pork tenderloin in the crock pot right now....)

During the "change of shift" when Mama and Papa Birdies switched places on the nest, I was able to catch this picture. And HAH! I was right!

There WERE two eggies laid!

And as I nervously await the "blessed event" when the baby doves hatch, I have been knitting socks and....

.... and don't laugh.... sketching.

It is because Fred, my therapist, has given me an art assignment. He stated that he believes that I need to engage in "artistic pursuits" in order to express myself.

When I told him that I feel that my knitting is an artistic pursuit, he disagreed. He stated that he believes that my incessant knitting is simply a relaxation technique--- and that it has become too "automatic" for me. He believes that I should engage in some other art medium in order to "dig deep within" and express myself.

He suggested oil painting, but I didn't want to deal with messy paints and brushes. But I did agree to return to an old pursuit, sketching angels.

First I sketched a Rescue Angel.

(That's why she's facing downwards and has a sword --- because if you need a Rescue Angel, you need one who will bring a large weapon and haul ass down to earth as fast as possible, right?)

Then I sketched a Good News Angel wearing some of my handknitted socks.

And today I might sketch out another angel..... and I might have her wearing some more of my knitted socks.

I know I'm no Rembrandt... but hey, it keeps me busy while I'm waiting for the eggies to hatch, ya know?.....

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Was It Something I Said?......