WordPress has this nice little feature where you can see what terms people are plugging into their respective search engines to navigate to your blog.   The Road to Lemontines can be found, apparently, by typing “japan, geisha, bird poop, face,” “penis pattern sew” and “paper doll knitting.”

But, the most frequent search term?  Ysolda Teague. 

So, it was no surprise that Rosie’s was packed yesterday for Ysolda’s visit to Philly!

Of course, Lemon was also a celebrity sighting as well.  And, yes, all of the above girls, sans Ysolda, do work at Rosies. 

It was a veritable garden of Ishbels!

And, there was twittering in the trees – Little Birds!

A might fine spring day was had by all!

a

Now there’s a happy dog!

So, this young attorney dropped by our office recently, wanting to take his novel theory of defense on a test run, see if it passed the laugh test.  Basically, his client was accused of saying nasty things about the police.  He wanted to put on a First Amendment defense. 

A few weeks later, I ran into said attorney, and asked him how it went.  He just shook his head.  The case was called to the bar of the court.  He laid out his defense, a kind of mini-opening, and the Judge looked at him, cocked his/her head and said, “Mr. Young Attorney, there’s no First Amendment on Friday.”

So Philly!

But, luckily, the First Amendment, even on Friday, is alive and well, and while Ms. California is a total boob, she had every right to say what she said on national television, and had every right to make a fool of herself.

I’m not defending what she said, I’m defending her right to say it.

And saying it should not lead to her being called the “c+*!” word. 

Why on earth does Perez Hilton, a man who makes his living drawing penises on women’s faces, think it’s somehow better to be a mysogynist than a homophobe? 

Shanna Moakler, former Ms. USA, and a self-annointed wise soul, addressed the controversy on her blog, saying, “She lost the crown because she wasn’t able to convey compassion for ALL the people that, as MISS USA, she would be representing,” Moakler wrote. “And if YOU like it or not, gays and lesbians make up this country as well. THIS is why we have judges, so they can find the RIGHT woman who obtains these qualities.”

Hmm. Let me break this down.  First of all, Ms. USA represents no one – she is not elected, she is a beauty pageant winner.  She was picked above all women for looking the best in a bikini, and playing Fur Elise on the harp.  She can go to any country, and say anything, and I could care less – she is not an ambassador, she is not in anyway a representation of my views.  If we’re looking for women ambassadors – we need look no further than Michelle Obama and Hilary Clinton – not elected per se, but definitely they extensions of our vote for the current administration.  Shanna Moakler, my voice around the world?  Not on your life.

Now the second part – “THIS is why we have judges, so they can find the RIGHT woman who obtains these qualities.”  Taking into consideration the above, who cares about judges, when the title means nothing.  But, putting that aside – a judge who calls a woman a “c*&!” is the right man to find the right woman who obtains (hmmm . . . do you think she means embodies?) these qualities? This man, Mr. Penis Drawerer, who has risen to fame denegrating women, and making fun of young starlets who are clearly on the road to nothing short of death because of their untreated mental illnesses and addiciton is the one who is going to look deep into the souls of these contestants and find compassion?   

Look, I’m not knocking profanity  - anyone who knows me knows that in college I wrote a college editorial expounding on the virtues of the f$*&!  word but the “c&$@” word is not simply profanity – it’s a hate word – the same as calling a Jew the “K” word, an African American the “N” word, or any other word that we all accept as socially unacceptable and down right reprehensible. 

And why hasn’t he been called out on this?  Instead, Ms. Cali is laughingly asked to respond to his use of the “c” word – really?  Would this be the spin on the story if Ms. Cali were black and he had called her the “N” word? 

In the end, this is really a trivial controvery – but it really burns me up – that somehow it has become acceptable to use the “c” word on national television, and the purveyor of this hate speech somehow becomes the hero of the media spin on the story.

Sure, the First Amendment protects Hilton’s right to use the “c” word – even on a Friday – but that doesn’t mean that we have to ignore it, pretend he didn’t say it.  His use of the word devalues any other speech that comes out of his mouth, not that it was worth much in the first place.

Dear Senator Charles B. Rangel, Chairman of the House Ways and Means Committee, former senator and failed nominee to head the Health and Human Services Departmen Tom Daschle, Nancy Killefer, former Assistant Treasury Secretary under Bill Clinton and failed nominee for Chief Performance Officer,  Trade Representative Ron Kirk, Treasury Secretary Tim Geithner, and Health and Human Services nominee Kathleen Sebelius:

Today, I paid my taxes.

Just a friendly reminder -

You should too!

Sincerely,

Wendy

A Taxpayer Since 1985

Wendy, baker extraordinaire strikes again! This time, with her intrepid sous chef, Mr. Tall.

Ignoring Lemon’s sage advice to stick to knitting, I ventured back into the kitchen to make this year’s easter Extravaganza, Spring Flower Cupcakes. After my creativity has taken hold, and I work my icing magic, I will put Williams Sonoma cupcake flowers to shame! My flowers will look so real, you will want to smell them rather than eat them.

Fresh daisies, no problem! Pink roses, check! A veritable garden of cupcakes!

Hmmmm . . . . my garden could have used a little pruning . . .

Well, at least my Easter baskets were a success!

Hope everyone had lovely holidays!

So, on Monday, Joe and I saw Adventureland.  I was really looking forward to Adventureland — or at least I thought I was.  The truth is, I was really looking forward to the Adventureland soundtrack circa 1987, and therein lies the error of my ways – rather than sitting through a rather bland coming-of-age tale of would be grad students discovering that their undergraduate degrees have left them with no skills, and no training, qualified only to be carny barkers at a park that looks like a low rent Hershey Park, I should have simply popped my Pretty in Pink cassette tape into my dusty tape player.    The movie had problems with pacing, like a broken merry-go-round, it began in fits and starts.  But, the primary problem is sadly with the hero, director Greg Mottolo’s alter ego, James.  While James is likeable enough, he’s got it all wrong – “coming of age” isn’t when you lose your virginity, it’s that “I’m not a kid anymore” moment – true, different for all people - but ultimately, it’s when you discover your parents aren’t perfect, they’re only human, and from here on out, I really have an obligation of self-responsibilty — parental financial support is a generosity, not a right, and getting a summer job, or any job for that matter, should not be viewed with bitterness and spite, but with a “that’s life” attitude – we all have to work, bozo, and no parent has an obligation to send their kid on a summer jaunt through Europe, or to foot the bill to an Ivy League grad school.  James has an unalterable attitude of entitlement, and that he has been somehow woefully wronged.  Even in the end, when James wrecks the family car, he looks to his father to take the blame because it was his father who left the bottle of alcohol in the car, that James was somehow forced to imbibe, and crash the car.  Dude, it’s on you, don’t look at him.  Your parents have done nothing to you, get over it. 

So James, to come of age, must lose his virginity, and because James is the last sensitive man standing, James must be in Love, and therefore, to lose his virginity to the girl of his roller coaster dreams, to the ever pouty Em, he must be in love with her – and frankly, this love is unbelievable, and another reason why the movie doesn’t work.   The only thing James and Em have in common is their disappointment in their “pathetic” parents, who have let them down in every way.  And, since they’ll never get over that — Em will never see what a tragic figure her father really is, or that his actions were not to spite her, but to spite himself — and actually come of age, maybe they are perfect for each other.   

Adventureland purports to capture the essence of 1987 – and sure, the music is there – as Rock Me Amadeus blares in the background, as are the leggings, the bad hair and Reagan on the t.v. – but these self-absorbed, spoiled kids who are really too smart and too clever for their own good – could easily find themselves in a Juno ripoff Comcast ad.  There’s nothing that roots them in time and place in 1987 – and for me, that was a disappointment.

My last disappointment was the seriously and tragically underused talents of Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig.  Hader and Wiig provide the only levity in an otherwise self-absorbed “why me?’” movie  - and they really provide the answer – as James whines over and over “woe is me, why me? how did I get stuck here,” the answer is simple – why not you, eh?

Look!  My first quilt block, complete!  Only 72 bows, and 8 blocks left to go! 

Like I said in the previous post, the pattern is more of a recipe than an actual pattern.  There are no clues as to color choices, no hints as to how to join the bows together once you’ve got two units joined.  As you can see in the picture, the bows are joined with a slip stitch pattern.  This joining strip is created by picking up 31 stitches on a concave side of a bow, and joining it to 31 stitches picked up on the convex side of the adjacent bow. Clear, yes?  Well, how you join those units to the other units without creating holes and puckering is a learning process.  I think with each successive “square,” I’ll have less intensive blocking to do.  This piece, obviously, is going to undergo some miraculous magic with water and pins.

And, what you can’t see is the 12,000 ends I sewed in.  Uch!  But, thanks to Lisa (thank you thank you thank you) who popped in the shop on Saturday, I now know the secret art of knitting in the ends as you go.  I’ve started on the bows for the second “square, ” and let me tell you, while the knitting is a bit slower because I don’t totally have the hang of a quick, swift motion to tack the tails down in the back of the work,  just the thought of not having any ends to weave in is one big sigh of relief.

And, totally off topic – riddle me this, my friends – Reason No. 352 why I hate Northeast Philly – every Sunday, Joe has to travel to the dark region known as the Northeast (Frankford to be exact) to pick up Joey.   Every Sunday, there is always a group of about four people who have set up shop in the middle of Harbison Avenue.   They bring their lawn chairs, and their merchandise.  What are the selling?  This is Philadelphia – Phillies t-shirts?  No, that’s three blocks down.  Pretzels?  Uh uh, not on Sunday.  Flowers for mom, perhaps?  Nope. 

Vaccuum cleaners.  Every Sunday, in the middle of Haribson Avenue, you can buy a vaccuum cleaner. 

WTF?  Where do these vaccuum cleaners come from?  Most people clean out their garages, and find one vaccuum cleaner, not ten.  Are they used vaccuums?  Did they fall off a truck at Kensington and Allegheny?  How did it come about that this group of neighbors got together and said, “hey, let’s sell vaccums in the middle of  an eight lane highway, great idea?”  And, who stops, in the middle of this busy Avenue, that rivals the Boulevard in traffic, to buy a vaccuum cleaner from Joe Shmo in his lounge chair?

Can anyone explain this to me?

Yeah! Paper Dolls is Finished!!! After a few reknits (a little pattern tinkering by the designer, but no biggie – all is well!) of the yoke, and a bit of nervous nilliness that I might run out of yarn (definitely unnecessary worry – I had at least half a skein of yarn leftover), I can say I’m very pleased with the end result.

I don’t know why I’m attracted to the paper dolls.  I had paper dolls as a child, but they were Shirley Temple dolls, with miscellaneous costumes from her movies — the sailor outfit from The Good Ship Lollipop, the overalls from Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, the rags from The Little Princess.  In fact, I never much liked dolls at all as a child – all I wanted to do with my Barbie’s was make them ride this plastic horse I had — needless to say, my Barbies suffered many a broken hip, and all of them had nails in their sides where my dad had performed surgery.  And, I never spent my time carefully cutting teeny tiny cracks and crevices to form interlinking arms, bobbing heads, and triangle skirts.  Maybe its the appearance of dancing, and lightheartedness that I’m attracted to – but for whatever reason, this was a must knit, and I’m sure will turn into a favorite wear.

The yarn is O-Wool’s fingering weight merino.  The only thing I can say about this yarn is that it’s truly lovely.  The fabric is soft, it has a nice drape to it, and like it’s bulky cousin that I knit my Owls sweater in, it’s just a treat to wear.

The contrasting colors are Fibre Company’s Canopy (the light pinky purple) and Koigu KPPPM (the plum).  I was a little nervous about how the Koigu would blend with the O-Wool, but in the end it all worked out – and the odd man out was kind of the Canopy — which is also a decadent yarn, but it’s a blend of fibers, so it was not quite a perfect fit with the O-wool and the Koigu, two merinos, but it all worked out.  If I had to do it over again, I probably would go for another sturdier merino as the lighter contrasting color, only because I think the i-cord cast-on would have been a bit firmer, not so loose. 

So, what’s next??? 

I think that darn lion got to me – because I’m going on Safari.

Too Africa.

On the African Adventure Afghan! 

Thanks Dolliewollie for letting me post a picture of your fantastic Afghan!

The African Adventure is a patchwork knit quilt designed by Horst Shultz.  This quilt, not found in either of his books, grew out of workshop he gave in 2000, and the pattern was not available until someone on Ravelry managed to track down the elusive, computerless Mr. Shultz, and obtain permission to publish the pattern on Ravelry.  If you’re interested, you can go to the Horst Shultz fan club group on Ravelry, and under the group pages is a link the pdf “pattern” and notes on knitting and construction.  The Ravelry Group is moderated by RickeScott, who details his adventure/obsession with this pattern here. 

I’ve always wanted to quilt – but the problem is, I don’t know how to sew.  Quite a problem!  So, to quilt, not only would I have to learn how to work my sewing machine, I ‘d have to learn to sew proficiently.  That means I would have to sew other things in order to get to the quilting, and I don’t really have any interest in sewing other things – so, this pattern seems like a good idea to dive right into quilting, and color.

The pattern is a crazy concoction of bows,

That link together like puzzle pieces, and eventually get joined together with a snake like slip stitch border.

And, to add to the madness, I’m using a ridiculously expensive yarn (not ridiculously expensive if you’re knitting something normal size – just ridiculous for a project THIS size), Fibre Company’s Organik.

So, wish me luck on my Safari – there may be no lions and tigers and bears oh my – but there will be miles and miles of yarn, oh no!

And, in other news – Lemon survived her spaying surgery yesterday, that’s our girl!  She was a trooper.  When she didn’t spring into puppy action after about five hours, I called my famous dog whisperer Knitty D who assured me that Lemon would be just fine.  And, this morning, although a little slow, she was her perfect puppy self.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!  It was a double night of happiness on Dancing with the Stars, as both the porn star (uh, I mean model/reality star) and the woeful Wozniak were sent packing.  Thank you to everyone who voted to save my two nights of sacred t.v. knitting time – and I’m sure Fred and Ginger thank you too.

So, now that I can stop dreading the idea of Steve Wozniak dancing the Brat in lederhosen, you’d think I’d be content with the world, the picture of bliss and happiness.  Wrong.  I have a new pet peave.  It’s been eating at me for days. 

Joey’s t-shirts.

Ok, I know all 11 year old boys are obnoxious.  But, really – does it have to be in your face, walking around your house, hanging on a hanger, in the laundry basket?  Here is a smattering of what’s in his closet – “I’m right, you’re wrong, get over it.”  “It’s funny how you think I’m listening to you.” and my favorite “Teamwork – When I tell everyone what to do.”  Did I wear t-shirt’s like this as a child?  Of course, as a child I was always right, but did my parents let me advertise it?  I think not – I think I had a drawer full of t-shirts with Minnie Mouse, Garfield, and one t-shirt that said, “my grandparent’s went on vacation, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.”  I guess the idea is that the parents know that the true joke is actually on the obnoxious child – you’re never right, you must listen or pay, and you know very well who tells who what to do.  But, if this is what he’s wearing at 11, what’s he going to be wearing at sixteen?  A t-shirt with a big, thrusting middle finger on it? 

I never thought of myself as an old fuddy duddy, but I guess I am.  I guess I need to lighten up.  When he says he can’t take the garbage out because he doesn’t know how to get the bag out of the can, and he’s wearing the “I’m right” t-shirt, I should just chuckle.  And when he has to be asked a question three times, before he says, “huh, what?” and he’s wearing the “its so funny you think I’m listening t-shirt,” I should let out a big belly laugh. 

Maybe I should just visualize the t-shirts on Lemon.  These same t-shirts on Lemon would be hysterical.  Lemon’s never wrong?  Ha ha ha! You think I’m listening to you, don’t you – where’s my bone?  And, the idea of this little doggie bossing us around – ridiculous. 

Um, or not . . .

Maybe I should just get him a Garfield t-shirt.