So The Jilted Ballerina made a post dedicated to me, and in true wooing fashion, I did whatever she asked.
An improperly crocheted flower fridgie! I left out a petal somehow, but oh well. I guess I didn't need to point out my failure, did I? She posted a video here, for those of you crochet illiterate like me, and she is a very good instructor. And in the least creepy way to say this, she has very nice hands.
I tried over and over again to crochet with some cotton yarn that would have had great colors, but I suffer from S.H.W.L.N.T.S. (Sweaty Hands When Learning New Things Syndrome) and boy howdy, sweat-tee. So I switched to that mystery green yarn and bam, the eggs are in the egg drawer.
Oh, and to clarify from my last post, my husband had to ask what a "crip" was, and I told him I was referencing bloods and crips (two separate gangs), and how the Fat Bridesmaid was wearing a dark bandanna, which I assumed to be blue, and then assumed she was a gang member. I realize now not everyone knows these things about gangs in the blogosphere. Which, why do I know these things? I do not understand. I can't tell you anything about Greek mythology or fractions, but I can tell you all sorts of gang history and zombie facts. And hypothetically how to bargain for a beer in Mexico.
So on Saturday night and Sunday night I bamboozled Jesse into doing the 30 Day Shred with me. On Saturday when I had done it twice, I was feeling AWESOME. The next day? HORRID. Jeesh, Jillian. I'm even cheating through some of it by taking longer than a 5 second break. But I do have to say I'm feeling great throughout the day.
We installed our air conditioner units yesterday, which actually means that my dad came over and installed our air conditioner units yesterday. Have I mentioned how handy my dad is? He's awfully handy. And he'll gripe about fixing something for you, but you can see that light in his eye when you ask him to fix a problem. My father's name is Mark and he loves PVC pipe, pocket knives, and complaining about fixing things. His dislikes are kidney stones and fixing things.
Thinking of fixing things makes Dad feel:
And let's welcome Nan to the vast following on my blog!