Moving in the right direction

Can I tell you how happy this makes me??

Eco-fishing

Yes, you heard it here first, folks.

Frenchboro is putting itself on the map as the first place to try out Eco-fishing.

And the genius behind the inspiration? None other than Jay2!

It seems our boy will BUY the newly required sink rope. He will ATTACH it to his traps. 

And then, in a gutsy, in-your-face challenge to the other fishermen, he just pushes the traps overboard. With no way to fish them up. 

Eco-fishing.

'Course he'll have to wait for his traps to wash ashore in the next storm to get to them, and they'll be smashed to bits, and devoid of lobsters...BUT, he won't have to use any fuel- or even his boat- to pick them up.

The environment thanks you, Jay2.

And your government. I'm sure they'll be all over this idea.

And, it goes without saying, the whales. 

At Emmie and Chris' wedding in August, 2008

I sat across from these two yahoos at the wedding. There may or may not have been whining about the lack of wine available. I won't say which of the three of us was in such a snit over it.

And my knitting bag (Oh yeah, I did.) may or may not have been searched for a nip of Sambuca.

 And I quote, "You've got EVERYTHING ELSE in there". (everything but booze, apparently...)

I took this picture because I kept calling them the Bobsey Twins.

And here I just found out, nearly 7 months later, that they share the same birthday. Same year, even. 

Yikes.

Stick a fork in me, 'cause I'm done

Zee Budget...she eees done.

Final numbers...$163, 667.

I know. I want to puke, too.

Don't forget, those are my tax dollars, too.

We've set up a tuition reserve this year (or, you local yokels will set it up when you vote on it at the annual Town Meeting- June 1st this year) to help with sticker shock when tuition fees start rolling in.

I know, I have moments of greatness. Too bad they are few and far between.

Just think of all the awesomeness I could accomplish.

And then forget it. Because I have more moments of abject stupidity that long offset those of greatness. Such is the curse of being me.

Case in point: The lovely 'Legs', whose birthday is the end of this week, will NOT be seeing a knitted gift from her favorite Aunt.

Sorry, kid.

I'll catch up with ya soon, Nana-Promise.

Right now I am feeling an undeniable urge to curl up in my bed for a week, and suck my thumb.

And I'm just giving in to it.

A baaaaad girl

I'm making an etsy purchase.

I'm not considering making an etsy purchase...I'm Making An Etsy Purchase.

Thank You, but please, hold your applause. Let me share.

(This is big news, considering our budget- or lack thereof. Much thought must be put into these decisions.)

I 'met' the lovely and talented Beth some time ago. I bought some fantastical hand dyed yarn, and used one skein in Kirsten's Mystery Sock KAL (which are now being worn by cousin Kissy, and were very hard to part with!), and have the other in progress below:

that's Branching Out, still in its infancy, where I left it before the train left the tracks 9 10 days ago.

Look, she does that tone-on-tone-dye thing that makes me smile. 

Seriously, it's like looking at a newborn baby. I couldn't stop that smile if you put a gun to my head. (Oh, the drama.)

Look, just look at it. That's the real color on the left. Look at the variations. I LOVE THAT!

Look in the crappy other picture. Can you see all the different warm and cool spots?

How do they DO that????

It's my favorite thing. 

I think it's why I knit at all.

Well, and it's cheaper than therapy. Which I could seriously use this week, as I work through some issues...but I digress. 

Well, her hand dyeing skills aside, Ms. Beth is a sewer. As in, one who sews.

And she made this.

It's got my name all over it. Yes, there in the lower corner. Can't see it? Too bad. Still mine.

I almost wasn't going to tell you about it. I would show you after I got it, I thought, but not before.

Small and petty, that's me.

I'm having the t-shirt made. Marissa: small and petty.

But, I've had an epiphany. It's not my usual state to be small and petty. You can't do as much charity work as I do, and be all that small and petty. 

Beth's not small and petty. She's wonderful.

And since I'm a huge Beth-Fan...I simply had to share.

And now you see how wonderful her yarn is, and how beautiful her bags are, and I'll never get anywhere near her website, and I'll have to drool over her yarn from afar....

all because I can't be small and petty, even when I try.

I'm going to remember that when I get to Heaven.

'Cause I'm going.

And I have a running list of people who I will look for there, and can't wait to see which of you make it. Bwah-hah-hah.

I still got it!

Did you see the date?

Do you see that? March 22nd?

I have lost 9 days of my life.

Gone.

Poof.

Just like That! (snap).

And I have a very special birthday happening on March 28th.

And a very special gift I'm knitting for the occasion.

Which I've not touched.

And really shouldn't, until the School's budget is done.

What to do, what to do...

There is no knitting while budget-ing, for there are cables involved.

And there really should be some sleep. Because there really hasn't been any.

And there is always the chance that I'll end up paying the cleaning staff fifty thousand dollars a year, and the teachers two dollars apiece...

Yes. There should be sleep.

I think I'll pull a Scarlett, and worry about it tomorra!

Take a deep breath

...'cause you're going to need to calm down. Get yourself comfy in a chair with calming tea, or strong alcohol- whichever floats your boat.

And please, please put all sharp objects away. 

I have been involved in a tv show.

And, (OK-brace yourselves...think warm, fuzzy thoughts-)

I can't tell you a freaking thing.

Nada.

Nothing.

You okay?

I'm so sorry!!!!!

My HUMBLEST and HUGEST apologies. 

Just move on to the next blog. Seriously, I'll understand. 

Oh Dudes! You know my involvement with anything results in Spectacular Spills, Fabulous Faux-pas, and Calamitous Calamity! And I did not disappoint!

And I was meticulously documenting these actions in my head to share with you.

But, alas, there was a release. Which I signed.

So I shall; indeed,  must, comply.

Just so you know...I tried for you, I really did. 

I asked for a special release ('cause I'm so special), not from all of the legal tender, but to blog my end of things. And the Bar Harbor Times, for whom I write a weekly column, wanted to publicize the involvement.

We're small-time here.

I was told they'd look into it.

Le sigh.

So...

are you totally pissed?

Am I going to have to change my name, quit blogging, move to France?

'Cause Dudes, I won't know what to eat there!!!!

Part two!

Well, the first part is over.

I dare not comment about it juuuuuust yet.

I'm so very sorry to prolong, I thought I could speak about it, and found out I was wrong.

I must wait until Tomorrow to let the cat out of the bag.

It's good, though...it reeeeeeeeeally , reeeeeeeeeeally is!!

Don't hate me,

Marissa

Godhelpme

sweaty palms....check!

shaking hands....check!

dry mouth....check!

inability to complete coherent thought...check!

butterflies rioting in stomach...check!

and a new one...tears welling up eyes in weird hormonal psychotic way....check.

I guess I'm ready.

If you only knew.

If I told you what I've been up to for the last couple of days you'd never believe me.

It's not OWLS. (Which I could have knit in a day if left to my own devices. Darn kids.)

It's not Branching Out. (Which I have frogged back to it's starting point thankyouverymuch.)

It's not even the School Budget (in caps to signify great meaning), which Is being put to bed Tuesday, March 25th comehellorhighwater, and which I have not looked at in a week.

why are budgets 'put to bed'? and where did I ever hear the phrase?

No, you would totally not believe me.

So you'll just have to wait, and when the time comes...I'll show you.

Wine and Lobsters

Somehow, wherever Michele and Mario go, wine and lobsters seem to follow.

We enjoyed every minute of school vacation this year.

Except, perhaps, the car ride with Daddy down to the Cape. With him driving.

And me in the backseat. (the yak-seat.)

But every minute of the rest of it!!

The Wave Pool

When I heard 'wave pool', for some reason my mind came up with an image of a kiddie pool. Like a wading pool. 

This is totally NOT what I expected!

It was the coolest thing!

The waves were fierce!

This kid loved every minute of it!

A bunch of b-days

From January to the end of March, there are 12 Birthdays in our family. And one Anniversary.

We try to consolidate as much as possible.

Happy Birthday Everybody!

Check out that crappy picture of some yummy rum cake. I'll blame it on the rum.

Mmmm, wish I had a piece of that right now!

Meathead plays hockey

And apparently he's pretty good. Allegedly.

I can tell you he weighs a ton, and is solid muscle. 

I could show you my toe.

Hockey is the only sport I can tolerate, and I live in the High School Basketball Obsessed Capital Of The World.

Seriously, it's like a religion up here. I don't get it.

But, hey- Sports, NOT drugs! I can live with that!

The end of a vacation

...should always be celebrated with

a big hot fudge sundae!

New Frontiers

I know the kids enjoy it when they get out there, but ugh!

It's just so darn cold!!

I don't think an activity that prevents you from knitting should be allowed.

I have to say, though...this was one pretty day.

Somes Pond, all to ourselves. Not a sound. Not even a dog barking.

(Somesville is pretty regulated, maybe they're not allowed to have dogs??)

It was just like being at the beach, but with a lot more clothes. I even fell asleep in my beach chair.

And this time we caught fish.

Take that, Jay!

We interrupt...

...these boring vacation posts for a bit of an update.

Don't bother me. I'm knitting lace.

Yes, you read right. I said lace.

Julie and I decided it was time. We are doing it together, halfway across the world.

So if I don't answer the phone,

if I don't respond to emails,

if I don't blog for a few days,

and if you see me and notice bald spots on my head where hair used to be,

you know why.

And check out Knit Purl Girl. She's cooking up something wondrous over there.

HIS favorite thing:

I've long suspected that The Big Guy can't stand to see virgin, unblemished snow.

So this is one of his Best Days Ever:

Now, me? With my OCD?

I had to plant my feet exactly in his footsteps so as to create no further disruption.

Skunked!

Rare is the ice fishing trip that we don't catch something.

Anything.

But take Jay with ya, and that's what ya get.

(We actually did catch one tiny white perch. I don't think it counts if the bait is bigger than the fish it catches, do you, Jay?)

We had a blast anyway. We rode around on a four wheeler and a snowmobile. You never saw 5 kids have so much fun with 2 ice sleds. 

And what is it about standing out in the middle of an (allegedly) frozen lake that makes a fried hot dog (the epitome of health) taste sooooo gooooood??

We'd had a significant amount of snow the day before, so it was fun. The ice underneath that snow was smooth as glass, and would have been horrible to try to walk on. Good skating, though!

There were two eagles hovering over us. I was afraid for our lives when they realized we'd left them nothing on the ice. I could hear them plotting against us like Heckel and Jeckel.

In fact, I let Brody ride me in on the snowmobile to get ashore quickly!

Last Resort

This is my new trick. This is what I have to do to my stove, to keep the cat from killing us.

She walks across the stove, and turns on the gas burners.

I guess she knows she's 20, and won't be here forever. And wants to take us with her.

I'm tired of bleaching all the horizontal surfaces in my house every morning.

Say Hello

  to the World's Fattest Cat.

Stop making fun of me.

Seriously. He's ginormous.

Again, with the shirts....

Remember the shirt with the armpit darts?

Well, I took it with me to wear while on vacation. (The black/white one. I never fixed the white one)

I felt the world was not ready to deal with my blue t-shirt with the bleach holes (which I live in), or the used-to-be-blue-until-it-was-bleached-too-many-times t-shirt that no longer has cuffs around the neck or arms, just frayed edges. 

Armpit darts were way preferable.

And because I hate to waste anything, when I shortened said shirt seven inches (told you they were too big), I made a headband out of the leftovers.

And because I steal a headband from 'Cinderella' every time I visit her (and sometimes when she visits me), I thought I'd give this to her.

I just wish I wasn't wearing the shirt when I gave it to her......

ps. I took the white one with me, too. I fully intended to bring it to the cleaners (they send stuff out to little elves who do alterations). It never made it there, and is now home with me.

It's holding down the fort in the ironing pile, being all tough and cocky, keeping the other wrinkled clothes in line, because it knows it's going to be there for a very, very long time.

While we were off, we ate in many, many wonderful restaurants. The first night, Thing Two picks up his fork, and tells me, "Look Mama, it looks like sewing."

He's unbelievable. My stitches should be so even.

He also told me his fork was a lever. My little science guru.

Slumber Parties

We totally surprised 'Cinderella' by showing up unexpectedly on her doorstep when she got home from school. Clearly she had no idea!

We never really did the 'sleepover'  thing when I was a kid. At least I didn't, but I was the oldest, so maybe my sisters got out more.

I don't think I missed much.

I remember the first time I slept at somebody else's house. (I'm not telling who it was. I'll bet Al and my sisters can figure it out. It was a non-Italian family, who did not share our standards. Get it yet?) 

It's probably what cured me of sleepovers- and to this day I am leery of even hotel rooms.

(Ever see the tv shows where they take a luma-light into a hotel room? ack.)

I like my own pillows. 

My detergent. 

Bleach. 

I don't like bugs. 

Dust.

 Dirt. 

Sharing bathrooms with strangers.

Especially my friends' older brothers. Who may or may not have not have been weird.

But other kids seem to enjoy the whole thing.

Like these ones:

Cinderella had about 10 girls sleep over for her birthday party. We had pizza- 

boogers and anchovies, mushrooms and slugs, cat turd and tomato...The Big Guy really knows how to entertain twelve year olds.

And then we corralled all these kids into vehicles, and took them to the movies to see Paul Blart, Mall Cop. (RIOT!)

Wanna see how to waste 10 dollars in one easy step?

Take this kid to the movies after 7pm:

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree...

This kid was happy to have him around:

And the girls got in some quality time. Like until about 1:30am.

That's Cinderella, Legs, and Thing One.

And This Guy got some quality Uncle-time:

plotting and scheming with The Dangerous Book For Boys

This Thing was in heaven! 

Right where he belongs

It's my very own male version of 'pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen'.

get out in that kitchen and rattle them pots and pans....

All the way from Australia

Our friends in Australia sent us a wonderful package right before we left for vacation!

Calendars, stickers, puzzles, and letters from our Little Buddy!

So very nice, THANKS YOU GUYS!!

Thing One sat right down with a puzzle, while Thing Two grabbed a pen and started asking where all our birthdays go. He loved the pictures of the animals in the calendar.

(Some amazing- colored birds down there!!)

Thanks for thinking of us!!

Escape from Alcatraz

Naturally, this is how the weather was the day we left The Rock:

Wouldn't want there to be sunny skies, or calm seas, or anything...

It was a great ride, however. And I had to drive. So I was au natural. No meds.

Three months is a record for us to not leave the island. To say we all needed haircuts was an understatement. Plus, well, this is not a very big island. You get sort of...tired...of seeing the same people all the time. Even the kids were a little twitchy. 

People at drive-thru windows -at like, oh, say- the bank, and Dunkin' Donuts, were slightly put off by my...enthusiasm...for them. I imagine it must seem strange to them for somebody to be excited to see them. 

And to stay in line and chat. 

Until horns honk.

I should invest in a bumper sticker that says "I don't get out much."

"Hey, hey, we're the Monkee's....

People say we monkey around...

But we're too busy sin-gin'

To put anybody downnnnnn...."

Within 12 hours, we were all sportin' new 'do's.

I love Mike the Barber.