Must fight....the....urge...
For some reason I've always resisted the urge to comment on strange searches that lead people to this blog. I'm breaking that rule today: To the person who arrived here via googling "can you put charcoal on hemorrhoids," the answer is yes. Yes, you could put charcoal on hemorrhoids. One could put any number of substances on one's ass posterior - charcoal, ice, ice cream, guacamole, sand, mosquito repellent, Noxema, tofu....the list is endless. As to whether any of these would be a good idea, or perhaps someone's idea of a good time, is beyond me.
What's been going on in my life you ask? (well, you didn't, but I'm sure you meant to)
A lovely weekend in the mountains, marred only slightly by the machinations of one angry bee and a the fact that all of northwestern PA had converged on the tiny town of Franklin.
Claire has learned how to clap. Few things in this world are as cute as a baby clapping. Except perhaps a baby clapping while cheering, "Yay!" in a tiny baby voice. It beats the screaming. Claire does a great pterodactyl impression. Some people have no appreciation of 9 month old Clairodactyls. Especially in church.
I'm on the 5th repeat of Icarus, a shawl from this summer's Interweave. If I don't get back to the Christmas project of doom, however, my dear brother is going to get a pile of partially knitted string. Maybe it's giving away to much to let him know I'm knitting him something (for all 3.2 readers of this blog who are not related to me, the semi-new family gift gifing scheme requires that all {voluntary} participants pick {from a hat} a person to gift, and that the gift be hand-made), but I bet you dollars to donuts he's already figured that much out.
What's been going on in my life you ask? (well, you didn't, but I'm sure you meant to)
A lovely weekend in the mountains, marred only slightly by the machinations of one angry bee and a the fact that all of northwestern PA had converged on the tiny town of Franklin.
Claire has learned how to clap. Few things in this world are as cute as a baby clapping. Except perhaps a baby clapping while cheering, "Yay!" in a tiny baby voice. It beats the screaming. Claire does a great pterodactyl impression. Some people have no appreciation of 9 month old Clairodactyls. Especially in church.
I'm on the 5th repeat of Icarus, a shawl from this summer's Interweave. If I don't get back to the Christmas project of doom, however, my dear brother is going to get a pile of partially knitted string. Maybe it's giving away to much to let him know I'm knitting him something (for all 3.2 readers of this blog who are not related to me, the semi-new family gift gifing scheme requires that all {voluntary} participants pick {from a hat} a person to gift, and that the gift be hand-made), but I bet you dollars to donuts he's already figured that much out.
