Happy solstice!

Happy solstice!

Ah, who the heck knows where the week went. It's been a doozy, though. It was horribly hot, then Tuesday the teenager had one of those "offspring from hell" kind of times--oh, I've deleted the details twice, now, you just don't want to know, people. Horrible. On the plus side, she did climb down eventually and we were able to function. Mostly. That night I got together with some knitterly buds to watch (eventually) a Hitchcock movie (eventually). And have a drink and a chat and some knitting. Which I needed. Thanks, Ann! And mucho thanks for listening, Ruth!

Oh, and the refrigerator broke. So the milk was going bad and all. The repair man did eventually show up on Thursday afternoon, and apparently our refrigerator is so exotic that the necessary replacement part will not be here until July 1. Yes, that means I would have no functioning refrigerator for two weeks.

Yeah, that's what I said, too. Other things, too.

I nipped out to Javaroom Wed. night, and that was a really, really good thing - got to hang out with more comrades-in-needles, which was great. Also feeling sane was a pleasant change. (hi, everybody!)

Lots of knitting went on what with one thing and another, and I seem to have a real compulsion about that self-striping yarn I dyed with koolaid - the socks, as modelled by my little boy, completed Tuesday:



He likes 'em. I asked him somewhere after the heel of sock one if he would like the socks to be for him. Little face goes all awestruck. Yes, he would. Well, there they are. Happy feet.

Here's what the yarn looked like at the dyeing the first color stage:



I really like dyeing with koolaid in a pot. The color gets taken up by the yarn completely, and you know you're done when the water doesn't have any color any more. Quite a magic trick.

The Socks that rock are nearly complete - I'm almost at the toe decreases, so we're really serious about this, they really are nearly done. Yay.

Now I want to talk about something completely different: the so-called War on Terror. I wonder sometimes if anyone realizes that this sounds like declaring war on unhappiness. Maybe it's just me. Maybe it's just me, but I would have thought that after the hijackings that left from my local miserable crappy Logan airport, the sensible thing to do would be something like this:
Reach out to immigrants from the Middle East and say, hey, you guys, we only have like six Arabic speakers in the whole US government, we really really need your help figuring out who else is trying to blow us all up and what would work to make that not happen. The blowing up, I mean. Of course, what the Bush administration did instead was imprison hundreds of people without even notifying their families that they'd been taken to a jail in, oh, Brooklyn or something. Way to go, Mr. President.

By the way, the ongoing construction projects around Logan are so confusing that even people who live here can't tell what the hell is going on most of the time. If our security depends on anyone at all being able to tell if something odd is happening over at runway 2, we're screwed. Because nobody can figure it out.

And when the Taliban rulers of Afghanistan saw that the US was about to bomb, they said, okay! okay! we give up! we'll turn over bin Laden! where should we bring him? where do you want him? And George W. Bush said, we don't negotiate with terrorists, and then gave the order to start bombing. That was the day I took down the American flag I'd hung in front of my house. And nobody knows where bin Laden is. Good one, Mr. Bush - that was really effective.

And the Iraqis still have no electricity, but by god the US Troops have ice cream and video games and air conditioning. Wouldn't it make the people of Iraq just a teeny bit less pissed off if we applied the same logistical determination to helping them that we've apparently applied to making things livable for ourselves?

There you have it. I'm cranky, and it's hot. Hope the Republicans lose the House.