Hey, Lizzie

Well, now you know why you never liked being by yourself. Occasionally I would see that woman on the Square because she worked at the newspaper office around the corner and I was still at Big Copier. But I would ignore her. Her husband came to our apartment and wanted me to make up to her. I pointed out that she had endangered the life of my child and therefore I had nothing more to say to her. He tried a couple of more times but each time I refused to talk to him.


On the lighter side:

Here's Miss Tilly with her drum. She was using a storage canister as a drum, but it's only cardboard. I thought something sturdier was in order.This came with a recorder, a tambourine and two maracas. She enjoys drumming along with Mel on Jack's Big Music Show

She finally wore the bathrobe you sent her. Here she is standing on my bed after her bath.

The picture below is of the presents we made for Oma and Mommy. I traced around one of the preprinted liners, printed out some reduced pictures of Tilly and gave her a glue stick. I cut out pictures and gave them to her and she carefully applied glue to the backs and placed them on the red paper. I inserted the finished product and add a dwarf mother-in-law's tongue to each pot. I put the pots in red plastic newspaper bags, tied a red ribbon at the top of each, and they were good to go.

Sexual Harrassment

Tuesday, we had a staff development program at work. One of the ombuds gave a presentation on sexual harrassment. The topic always makes me remember what happened to me back in the 70's when I was 22.


I was working at Big Copier Corporation. It was a great job with great benefits and good pay. Then I got a new supervisor. For a time, it was alright. But something about me set off Mr. Twisted. It started by him coming over to my desk and instead asking me for files, he would open my desk drawer and find what he wanted. Then the biggie started happened. This man would stand in front of my desk, with his hands in his pockets, staring down at me and jingling his change, keys, whatever. He didn't say anything; he'd just stand there jingling, crotch at my eye level, jingling, jingling.


One day, I had had enough. I tell people I was hungover, but I think I was in a rage. I think this happened the day after the sitter left my 2-year old alone in a dark aparment because I wasn't home exactly when I said I would be. I'm still pissed about that 40 years later, too. Anyway, there's Mr Jingles standing at my desk, jingling faster than usual. Then he walked around and opened my drawer. I snaped, slammed the drawer shut, and proceeded to ream him out, up one side and down the other, loudly, precisely, indicating that not only were his parents closely related, but they weren't even human, or the same species, or from this planet.


Three days later, I was called into Mr. Jingles' boss's office and fired. I was told I could work until the end of the day, but I packed up and walked out 10 minutes later.



Today's Friday. I'm bored. Only 1005 more paid days at the salt mine.

Hello again.

Well Lizzie,

It's good to see your muse waking up. I've always known you could write. Me, if I started writing, I'd come across like James Joyce on speed. My muse runs so fast, I can't catch her. I tend to free associate and write stream of consciousness or unconsciousness, depending on whatever, disregarding punctuation and word spacing. You'd wind up attempting to read the world's longest word or just total gibberish. See what I mean. Does this even come close to making sense? I think my muse is named either e.e. Joyce or Gibberisha. Originally this blog was to be my forum for commenting on the crazy around me. Then it was going to be about the crafty things I was doing - knitting, soapmaking, quilting - and about weight loss. What it became was a blog about the toddler. If I wrote about what was really happening to me, it would be a sat-and-watched-my-ass-grow blog.

The short person is spending the night again. I swear I see more of her than her parents do. I'm going to introduce her to the joys of the glue stick. We'll be making Valentine's presents and cards.

Enjoy your day.

Love,
Mom

Tilly's picture

Hey Lizzie,


Remember when I told you about the picture Tilly drew of the dinosaur with the scary legs and sharp teeth. Well, here it is.

Can you see the scary legs? I'm not sure about the sharp teeth, but I think it's breathing fire. It could actually be the dragon from Shrek.

Update on the job: No go. Still unemployed.

What I've been doing

I made some soap  - an anise scented bar. It didn't come out quite right - the scent is too faint, the bars are too soft. I  tried a  gray mica swirl to give a hint of licorice but didn't use enough so the soap looks like it has a dirt streak. Fortunately it was a test batch, so nothing is lost.

I've been working on the socks from hell - I guess I don't do well with lace charts. The socks are Poppycock Socks designed for the 3rd anniversary of the Loopy Ewe. The yarn is Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock in the Loopy's Knitting Lounge colorway. I've had several false starts, having to rip he sock out 3 times. Plus at various places in the pattern, I was plagued by dropped stitches, missed counts, added stitches. I finally made it off the leg to the heel. About halfway through the heel, I stopped for Christmas stuff - the three quilts, 5 pillowcases, and the two stick horses.

When I started back on the sock, the heel stitches didn't match up. I looked for the pattern and couldn't find it. Rip, rip. Then I found the pattern. So back on track. I finally finished the first sock. When I started the second sock, I got smarter. I put markers between the pattern repeats. The second sock is going much better.

Hey Lizzie, your brother has a job, we think. As a cook. Where? you ask. The Local Tavern. That sounds familiar, you say. It should. It's where he was the general manager before he quit.