Thursday, May 24, 2007

Happy Holiday

Pushed mowed today, in spite of Sweetie's direct suggestion. "No push mowing and no weed whacking, okay?" Allergies and all that. But my allergies have been non-life-threatening, maybe a stuffy nose but no body inflammation. I can deal with a runny nose. So, I push mowed and it was a blast! After I did a hit of asthma medicine, I really felt great. My abs, such as they are, appreciated it. I mowed the entire front yard. Woo Hoo. Back in the day, I used to push mow over an acre every week, half of it uphill. That's when I was slim! Not so slim anymore, not since the riding lawn mower. And middle age.

So. The lace books arrived! The one book is called New Victorian Lace Today. I am in what passes for heaven - for me. Just finished knitting the latest shawl and will block it tomorrow. Maybe. Also trying to decide what to knit next. Meaning, what will I spin next?

I have found several new blogs about lace knitting and will post them to the sidebar. Maybe today. Using a dime for scale for lace yarns - wow. Check them out.

I hope you appreciate the meaning of this Memorial Day. When I lived in Atlanta, I became upset in - what was it - 1991? BS - Before Sweetie. One radio ad was about WSB's "Mom-orial Day." Pissed me off. War is not a cool thing, but men and women have DIED for our country and they have a day for their remembrance. Do not combine it with Mother's Day. Mothers have their own day.

So. Anyway. I made my protest call to the radio station.

That same year, I had to call some car dealership because they were advertising a "Ground War on Prices." This was during Operation Desert Storm. Was this tacky or what? People were in combat and dying, and they wanted to use that metaphor to sell cars. Pissed me off.

I called the dealership and expressed myself. Did it make a difference? I don't know but I had to do it. One can be for peacelovedove, but it is okay to remember those who died for us. It is also okay to remember those on the other side.

That is one lesson I got from my dad. He served in the Army in WW2. In Germany. Back in the sixties, wearing an Iron Cross was cool among a certain crowd, surfers and such. It pissed him off. He would say, "The men that wore that medal earned it. They were fighting for their country, just like I did." Coming from him, that was something. He was a complicated man.

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