Having problems with the big nipple thing

In my lame attempt at a French Market Bag I have ended up with a French Nipple Bag that looks like a package of Lifesavers. I believe the problem was I didn't have big enough dpns for the start up so I used some smaller ones, hence the nippleage. Trying to decide whether it will kinda disappear during the felting or is it going to become just a smaller, yet firmer nipple? Believe me, any advice will be totally analyzed AND appreciated.

My guilt is slowly subsiding about the, you know, earlier post thing. Although, a friend of my husband's humour hasn't helped. He gets a wrong phone number in my presence and doesn't he scream into the phone "Wrong number! Go hang yourself". I'm pretty sure the person had already hung up. I am living a Seinfeld episode.

How do I get rid of the "nipple effect"? 

Does this not look like a giant nipple? 

See? 

Pack Your Bags, Baby, You're Goin On A Guilt Trip (I may be a while)

Holy Crap. WTF and every other expletive you can think of. This one is kinda of a biggie. I have done some really stupid, idiotic, and possibly even moronic things before, but this takes the cake. God forgive me, please and I promise I will go to confession asap. Okay here's the story, Cripes are you sitting down?

At Christmas time, my husband told me to go to Rogers and pick up a cell phone for me and DN1. We get some nice ones (got her the camera one) and things should end there yes? No. Shortly after, I start getting wrong numbers. A lot of wrong numbers. Like, we're talking some days up to 20-30. Most of them I miss, can't find the phone, in my purse, yada, yada, yada. Anyway, I figure the best solution is call Rogers and get them to change my phone number. Well, being a large multinational type company it was not that easy. Although I purchased the phone, and carry the phone and my name is listed as the user of said phone, I cannot change the number as the contact name for this account is my husband's office manager (they pay the monthly bill). Needless to say, I never got around to it because I need this special letter thing and well you know how it goes. So I live with the constant wrong numbers but here's the problem.

They are slowly driving me crazy. When I am carrying groceries from the car to the house the phone rings. When I am trying to merge into 4 lanes of traffic on the 401, the phone rings (don't answer it). When I am lying in the dentist chair with the hygenist admonishing me for not coming in once every three months for her overzealous "cleaning", the phone is ringing. I begin to lose it with the callers. Gently at first, then full blown "Stop calling me. This is a cell number. You're costing me minutes". Did I mention it rings all night?

Today was like any other day. Up at 8:00, making kids Sunday brekkie, cell phone rings but this call is a little different. The caller asks if this is the DISTRESS LINE? Yes, you heard me correctly. So just to be sure, I go online and do different variations of my cellphone number. Guess what? I am one digit away from the PEEL REGION SUICIDE/DISTRESS LINE!!!

I can't believe a bolt of lightning has not zapped me.

So much to blog, so little time

Just a quick update, as things are pretty wild here. I know, I know, how long does it take to jot down a few words but life is crazy. Between, soccer games, soccer practices, soccer pictures, DN1's exams and that pain in the butt, life, well things are hectic. So, for your viewing pleasure (and because I don't think I have ever posted garden pictures before, I must be the only blogger without garden or cat pictures) here ya go. Enjoy.

Aren't they lovely? 

My William Baffin rose from the Explorer Series 

My short lived peonies, go on take a long look, it will be another 50 weeks til you see them again 

Meadow Flowers Shawl from "Knitter's Stash" (remember all that Anny Blatt mohair?) 

Sweater for hubby based on "The Manly Sweater" from the "Stitch n' Bitch" book 

Finished 3rd Buttonhole Bag for DN3's teacher 

Temptation Island

50% ALL YARN ~ CLOSING SALE!!! If that isn't enough to give a knitter palpitations, I don't know what does. Elizabeth and I finally went for tea and yarn shopping at two of my favourite yarn shops and isn't one of them going out of business? It is the Yarn Tree in Streetsville (can't find a direct link, sorry guys) but it is on the main drag, Queen Street (aka Mississauga Road). What a pity, to be closing down during such a knitting renaissance. Almost brings a tear to my eye, but, alas, it was to Elizabeth's benefit as she really got some great deals. Everything is 50% off, including some beautiful Jo Sharp books among other things. I didn't buy a damn thing, if you can believe it. I still haven't told you but, Mother brought me back a big honkin' bag of Briggs and Little from New Brunswick and I just bought a tonne of Lamb's Pride for a bag for myself AND hubby bought a basket of yarn for me at a garage sale last week (what a honey, what ever shall I do for him?) plus, I still have those ten balls of cream mohair and you really don't want to know how much more is "in stash".

All the little nippers are back in the safety of my bosom. And I couldn't be happier. For now. Til they drive me round the bend again and that could be in the next five minutes but anyhoooo...

Enough about me, back to the SEX. After shopping, Elizabeth and I went for afternoon tea and it was tres bien. This wonderful fare was served at The Tea Room and I was duly impressed. Nicely presented, fresh sanwiches and more sweets than you can eat. And the scones? Excellent. They were round instead of triangular, but that I can forgive.

Let's see, am I forgetting anything? No, don't think so. Just nice to shop and tea with someone from the Knitting Blog community, that seems to share the same crazy ideas about yarn, gardening and other monumental issues.

Pictures will come when I find the damn camera (and then you just know the sucker will need battery recharging, right?) See, I told you they would start to drive me round the bend.

I am hoping Cleveland does not ROCK too much...

DN1 is there now with her aunt, Nonno and Nonna. They left yesterday morning (yes, for those counting, I am down to one kid now) and will be there until Sunday night. She will be interacting with her cousins, twin boys, that are eighteen. Let's hope they stick to the fifteen year old stuff and not the eighteen year old stuff. Well, that's enough worrying for one day.

I am busy (operative word) working at my dad's toy store til the folks get home with DN2. Not exactly riveting, just finding it hard to become euphoric over a store full of these. Yes, euphoric is the key word here. Some people (male species) come into the store and literally, gasp. Their first time in, they can spend over an hour checking the place out. Really astounds me. And if I hear one more, "My wife doesn't know I am here", well I may just hop on the vintage toy pedal car and drive right outta there.

Knitting is, well, complicated. You know that Buttonhole Bag I made for DN3's teacher? No, not the first one I gave away but the second one? Okay, this is the prob. I had no gift to send to Cleveland so Bag #2 has gone to the good ole' US of A and must quickly make a third for the teacher gift. Are we seeing a pattern here?

I have become that Jewish/Italian mother I always despised

When my husband and I were first dating, we used to go up to my cottage several weekends during the summer. Our summer home was located in one of the most beautiful places in Canada, the Muskokas. Every Friday night when we would leave, his mother would cry litres of tears because we were driving 1 1/2 hours north! I would complain the whole way up, "Why does your mother have to go on and on and on with the tears everytime we go up north?" and "Why does she make us feel so guilty for leaving?"

We used to laugh about this to friends and relatives. Apparently, it was the same with most of the mothers when the kids left for vacation or school. Tears, guilt, the whole shootin' match.

Fast forward to this morning at 5:15 am. Sunrise is still another half hour away. A mother is standing on her porch in pink cotton pajamas, waving and crying litres as she says good-bye to DN2 safely ensconced in the back of her grandfather's van. She is on her way here and will help out here while her grandfather does a trade show for his Toy Store. She will be gone for 8 days, 14 hours and haven't yet calculated the seconds.

If you would now excuse me, I must go floss the feathers out of my teeth.

Wow, seems like...

Everyone is having negative blog comments lately. What is it with people doing this? If I were to have a comment, to a blogger, that was a little "deep" I think I would email the person and try and work it out through that route. Not that I have really had anything negative to say to a blogger (mum always said if you can't say something nice...) but why be nasty? And the name calling is so high (elementary?) school. Really, quite unbelieveable. Blogs are for people to write what they want, when they want. Which reminds me, I once got a comment that said "nice couch, grandma". What do you think that meant? :)

Just my two pence.