casapinka

A Knitting Photo Essay

I have a bunch of loose ends that need weaving in on my latest knitting design. New family member KitKat has wedged herself between me and the edge of the couch. The sun is streaming into the knitting room so I can hardly blame her.

Keep in mind that every time I put her down she jumps right up again and resumes her activities, the majority of which involve pouncing on my delicate merino/cashmere/silk sweater. Snagging Tosh Pashmina with one's claw is not a way to win over humans. That's right, knitters: I can hear you collectively suck in your breath. She should really be banished to the cellar.

Again she jumps back up, napping for a while, convincing me she is reformed.  Scarlet looks on from the beanbag chair reproachfully as though to say "When will you learn?"

I think KitKat is relieved that Junior has started Kindergarten: No more being carried around in his new Beyblade backpack while being fed salami through the hole in the zipper. She's also clearly realized that she's been adopted by a family whose matriarch is a sucker. 

Cast On, Baby!

The Irish contingent is still here at Casapinka and we're off to Block Island today. Forget food; I'm making sure to pack my knitting for the ferry ride over. I was sent this video the other day after a knitting night at Bonnet Shores Beach Club here in Rhode Island. I took my Mother-in-Law with me even though she's a non-knitter. I think she was expecting a bunch of octogenarians (Sorry, Ann - no offense) in rockers bent over their wool but the group in the video is more what she found. We enjoyed wine, food, beautiful views and a gorgeous sunset.  We often call our love of fiber the "Legal Addiction" and you can see why from the video. Could it be any dorkier than to dance around to this? Thank God my kids are still relatively small. 

Crocheted Stones

I apologize for lack of posts. Our family flew in from Ireland and I took the kiddos to NY to meet them and spend a few days.  On arrival back home I awoke at 2 am thinking Husband was stabbing me in the flank out of rage at having pink crown molding. Alas, it was a wee kidney stone, which was to terrorize me for a week. I didn't feel like blogging, knitting, or doing anything - and with a houseful of guests staying in bed is just the worst. I'm now feeling like Pink again and up running around, knitting, hosting houseguests and preventing Junior from pulling the tail of our new kitten, KitKat, which Juniorette got for her birthday. 

 

If I were a urologist, I would hang pictures of these crocheted stones on my waiting room walls. They're so much better than the labeled diagrams of the male urinary tract. I wish urologists would think outside the ureters a bit more. I think they should offer humor and optimism to people who are in pain or know that they're about to have the kidney stones agitated right out of them, industrial dryer style. It might also lighten the blow for females being prescribed Flomax, which I thought was strictly for the prostates, but apparently helps kidney stones along the river, too. It's sure is great to drive up to CVS to pick up one's Flomax.

What medicine are you waiting for?

Mumble mumble to the cute pharmacy tech.

What? Could you speak up, Miss?

Flomax!

Raised eyebrows. Ok, can you spell  your name?

Mumble mumble.

The indignity of it all.  I'm sure I'll get major spam from the prostate people now that I've named Flomax and Prostate in one sentence. I'm sure to become the leading Pink Prostate Blog, you just watch. 

 

August Flagpole Flowers

I imagine some of you have flagpole holders. It's a fairly common dwelling accoutrement in the USA. The day we moved in, I dutifully flew some fake flowers, struggling to cut the wires with my best sewing scissors. Word to the wise: Bad idea. Well, now that it's August 1 and we have been living for four months in Casapinka, it's time for some rituals. Today, the Changing of the Flowers begins and I'm trying to decide if I should go with purple or pink.

And while on the topic of flowers, I was having a bad day yesterday (and thanks so much for all the pizza in the bath support - a girl needs that.) I was leaving the house and saw that someone had left two sets of flowers on the porch. I was so happy to see them although I don't have a clue what you do with that six pack of pink prettiness. I really like the neighbors around our neck of the woods - they do things like this often. I especially liked that I was miles from Casapinka in a liquor store yesterday afternoon, picking up kids from the camp bus and  buying a bottle of Mommy Time Out. Up walked this woman with four jumbo bottles of Franzia, Boone's County or whatever and said, "Are you Pink? I'm your neighbor up the street - I met you at the 4th of July parade!" She didn't leave the flowers on our porch but maybe she'll share her honkin' bottles of wine when I have another pizza in the bathtub kind of day. Another very pleasant Rhode Island moment.