The Angry Eggplant

Sadly, I did not finish the cabled christmas sweater in time...So this saturday as we loped into the agricultural and craft exhibits at the Marshfield Fair, I was doubly disappointed. Where were the bloggers? I didn't recognize any of the FO's, nor names. It appears we have all reached the summer lows, which isn't a bad thing. It just seems like we have all reached the epitome of relaxation. And perhaps just a bit of elan.
This lovely vegetable sculpture was worth the trip, though. Behold the menacing eggplant. This is one vegetable you don't want to mess with!
There was also some chicanery at the national guard tent. Gunnery Sgt FieldsofHeather took position, aimed, and fired upon (in her imagination anyways) some 30 year old women who were innappropriately dressed in stretch jeans, belly shirts, and tramp stamps. Gotta love the locals.

Upon returning home, I self-medicated with two episodes of What Not to Wear on TLC and went to bed, feeling much better.

Mid-Summer Ramble

I have been rambling a lot lately. Rambling with the stroller to the beach. Roaming in the car to the Cape. Wandering aimlessly down the aisles at TJMaxx, hair disheveled, like a crazy woman who missed the bus. Hell, I have really missed the bus. I didn't feel like crowing about it last month, but I resigned my position as training coordinator whatnot at the firm. Walked out. Threw in the towel. Quit.

I won't go into detail, but I wish I could scream at my team leader, YOU CANNOT DO 50 HOURS OF WORK IN JUST 30!!!!!! WHILE TRAINING THREE OR FOUR PEOPLE. You just can't. I'm not superwoman. And that "nice way" about me, which was the reason I landed this promotion in the first place? It went right out the window after three months of that shit. Four years of flawless, dedicated work and I'm moving on. What a waste.
There is a silver lining, of course. My house is clean. The beach is my daily retreat. I may be actually learning how to cook. Behold a crookneck squash (from the farm of course) stuffed with rice, ground turkey, parma, and assorted fresh herbs! No recipe! Just whipped it all up, and served it for dinner. And nobody needed a call to poison control!
And since July our son has suddenly learned to crawl, sit unsupported, pull himself up and climb things (or people) and do quantum physics. Ok, maybe not that last part, but he IS doing much better with all the attention he gets from moi.
Now knitting. Cheating on your diet: Bad. Cheating on your one WIP: very good. I have learned in the last few weeks that you need a break every now and then from continuous cable hell. So there's a cutesy tootsy vest for LBB in the works, just from some cheapo Lamb's Pride wool. I still prefer playing with LBB to knitting, so I just get a few rows in whenever he naps. But now I am back on a roll...just like him. Phew.
But I like to cheat. Oh yes I do. Don't tell.

Down on the Farm

Project monogamy is SO over-rated. I've finally determined the main cause of the baby christmas sweater ordeal is that I'm working on nothing else!
But more on that later...One little tidbit you might not expect from a pixie-mama, stiletto heel-wearing chickadee like me-I really did grow up on a farm. Mucked stalls, rode horses, and even helped with weeding the ol' veggies once or twice. Now I'm not saying I loved every minute of it. But I did learn that the rewards were well worth all that hard work.
The farm is still there, and going strong under the care of my parents. It was originally owned by a farmer named Japhet Allen in 1776. Although there have been many improvements and neccessary modifcations, the original structures are still standing. Not bad for a colonial farmer who also fought in the Revolutionary War in his spare time. Is this beginning to sound familiar? If he had only practiced a bit o' medicine in his spare time, perhaps a few sutures on the kitchen table, the resemblance would be more striking.
Well, we are not related to Mr. Allen, but it is interesting to know who built and lived in that farmhouse over 220 years ago. With the help of Doc & Blogless Sharon's crafty friends, a logo was created for the farm and embroidered on shirts for them to wear proudly. Wish I had a close up, but you'll just have to hang tight. And admire this ruggedly handsome fella.