I love it when people can name that tune!
It’s fun to sometimes realize how small the knitblog world is, because it seems SO vast. I saw this on one of the blogs I read quite some time ago, at least a month, and I’ve seen it with increasing frequency. I don’t know that I can narrow this down to six, but here are some strange things about me:
Ø I got married in Gibraltar. So did John Lennon and Yoko Ono. So did Sean Connery and at least one of his wives. I think the lesson learned here is that if you want to have a long, happy marriage, don’t get married in Gibraltar.
Ø I am a descendant of Grover Cleveland, 22nd President of the Unites States.
Ø When I was a little girl we lived in Mission Viejo, CA. The rec center we belonged to had a high dive board and occasionally Greg Louganis practiced there. One day I tripped and fell on the poolside and he scooped me up. Thanks, Greg Louganis!
Ø When driving, if I have to switch lanes I try to arrange it so that I don’t run over the reflector thingies on the road. If I can successfully switch lanes with no run-overs, I feel confident that I’ll have a good day.
Ø I secretly believe that the fortune in my cookie truly is meant for me. I guess that’s not a secret anymore.
Ø When I was a senior in high school I was in a production of The Fiddler on the Roof put on by the seminary down the street from my school. I developed quite a debilitating crush on a man who was a third-year seminary student. That meant that in less than a year he would be ordained a priest. (Ok, technically a deacon, because that’s the first step, but still.) It was shameful, the things that ran through my mind. He is the ONLY former crush I have not Googled.
There we are, then. So I won a skein of STR from the wonderful Cara! I’m quite pleased. I’m going to make a pair of Pomatomus, just see if I don’t! Let me rephrase that. I’m going to try!!
Chloe had her birthday party this weekend. Whoever tells you that having five ten-year old girls in your apartment all at the same time for a sleepover is a good idea is LYING to you, and is obviously trying to put you in some sort of zombie-like, not quite conscious state so as to allow for more easy thievery of your yarn. I baked what was later called a Scab Cake. Gross. Red Velvet cake with chocolate frosting. Can’t have cake without chocolate frosting. Then it’s not cake! Trying to get this close-up resulted in a somewhat chocolate-coated camera. What’s a girl to do? Why, lick the frosting off the camera, of course!