More bibs and bobs.

Doug is in the basement recording what is sure to be the next American hit single for his final push towards the completion of the RPM Challenge, and I am up here wasting (er... spending?) time on my blog. I was going to play my violin, but it's hard to play and hear myself over the sounds coming from downstairs. So Internet, I give in to you, finally.

I get up early for work (up and brushing the teeth, etc., by 5:45am), and have conditioned my body to get up early. If I am lucky, I can sleep to 7, maybe 7:30 on the weekends (sometimes until 8 if I am super tired or feeling under the weather), but I find myself waking up before 7 most weekend days. Today I woke up at 6:10am. No cats, no alarm to rouse me; just my overactive mind (and bladder) thinking about trips to the Badlands. We saw Marieke and Curt last night, and between Curt's sales pitch and Marieke's nearly-professional photos, I'm ready to book a flight and see them for myself. I've added South Dakota to my overwhelmingly long list of places to go. I had better start booking some of these trips or else I'll never get through my list.

I was able to scratch some things off of my to-do list this weekend, though, which is an advantage to getting up so early. I cut all the material for my quilt binding and made some great progress on this round of bib-making. These are the first two that I made today and I was pleased with how they came out, considering that I haven't made any bibs since last February (for my cousin's baby shower. Has it really been that long? I guess so!). I got ten done today, so only have six more (and all the snaps) to go. Should be able to finish next weekend, which will allow me to focus again on the quilt. It's my new goal to get the quilt done by the end of April, in time for the unearthing of the bed from the heavy wool blanket and down comforter. Having the quilt on the bed will be a great way to say good-bye to winter.

But, will winter ever end, really? It seems not this year. I was so thrilled on Saturday morning to see grass, actual grass, actual grass that had a slight green tint to it, that I had to take a picture. I had a feeling that it wouldn't last long, and I was right. This morning when I woke up we had four inches of fresh, heavy snow! Yay, shoveling! Doug looks thrilled, doesn't he? I decided to approach this snow with a different attitude, though. I could have, so easily, trudged outside to shovel off the driveway and clear off the cars with a very heavy heart and a very bad attitude, because, really, how much more can I take of this winter? Instead I decided to enjoy myself a little bit and I made myself a little snowperson. The snow was great for this, and who knows what kind of nasty weather we'll get next. I may not have another chance this winter to make a snowman. So, my little snowman watched me shovel from atop the recycling bin, and was soon joined by Doug's snowthing.

We had another visitor today, too - Max. Max lives next door. He stops by every once in a while and begs us to come out and play with him. We always put on our coats and go out to play with him, but he's never actually looking to play, that tricky Max. He's just looking for dog treats. The people who lived here before us used to feed Max cookies whenever he got out of his yard and wandered over into this yard, and we have kept up the tradition. Max must love getting loose, because I give him about ten doggie cookies at a time. He's such a bad begger, and I'm such a sucker. He does paw! I love paw. If the cats could do paw with me they'd be a lot more portly than they are now, that's for sure.

Okay, what else. Oh yeah. So after Max got his doggie treats I decided that it was time for me and Doug to have our human treats, and I made us some Belgian waffles. This was the first time that I ever made anything with yeast, and I was amazed by the stuff. The dry yeast looks like little worms, and what it does to the dough (makes it expand to about twice its original size) is pretty impressive. In true Rosanne fashion, the kitchen was a bit of a disaster zone while I was cooking the waffles but the end result was definitely worth it. I ate about eight of them. King Arthur makes a good Belgian waffle mix, that's for sure!

But I want you to notice in that last photo my hands. My red, scaly, scary looking hands. I have been having some real issues with my hands lately, or, more specifically, my fingers. They are either bright red or a strange purplish color, and my pinky and index finger on my right hand are swollen, with hard deposits under the skin at the tops. I tell you this because I've had this issue for a while (I'm becoming more and more convinced that I have Raynaud's, but the swollen, tender, hard deposits I can't account for.). I don't want to go to the doctor, because every time I go to the doctor I'm told to drink more water, eat more vegetables and get more sleep, and then I'll be as good as new, but I want someone to know in case I pass out from fever and infection what could be the problem. Maybe if I use lotion my scaly skin would be improved. Or maybe I just need spring to cure me. I think I prefer the latter.

It's all in the timing.

Here's a little update on us adding a third animal to our current brood - we have not added a third animal to our current brood, but not for lack of trying. We were delivered some sad news this past Friday about a dog that we were hoping would be ours (he will not be), and so now we are questioning whether or not we even want a third pet. I mean, this is probably just not in the cards for us right now. We'll just keep waiting and if the right one comes along then we'll act. If we get it, great. If not, then we don't. The timing just has to be right.

I really thought the timing was right this time, though. Girl Chris mentioned to me last week that a coworker of hers had to send one of his dogs back to the breeder, the male, because he needed to focus his attention on the female. Z is a 6 year-old coton de tulear, a stud who is just about the cutest dog you've ever seen. Almost exactly like this: (Photo courtesy of Dog Breed Info Center.) Z's owner brought him back to the breeder on Wednesday; on Thursday I emailed the breeder to get more info on Z and to find out about adoption; and on Friday I learned that Z was gone. Gone really before he was even brought back to the breeder - she had someone lined up for him already. The breeder did tell me that she had coton puppies available, very nice females and some sweet males. A puppy! Imagine the cuteness there! But of course I had to ask how much they were before I said yes, we'd take one, and of course they were just way, way too much for us. More than the Scottish fold! We could put at least three new, vinyl, energy-efficient windows in our house for the price of the puppy. So we had to say no (and more evidence that a shelter dog is the way to go - at least it won't break the bank!). And now we're back to the drawing board, waiting around for the right pet, while enjoying enjoying Meg and Sasha's company just fine (though the walking-on-the-stovetop-when-the-burner-is-on thing that Sasha does is a little annoying, I admit).

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We saw our friends Jessica and Neil last night. Ate dinner at Shawarma King and saw Mademoiselle Chambon. Doug and I hadn't spent an evening in Coolidge Corner in quite some time, and we're not quite sure why. It took us all of 20 to 25 minutes to get there, and probably even less to get back. I guess we're just habituated to our little neck of the woods, and habits are hard to break. Our dinners may have been enough to encourage us to break habit a little more often, though, because you can't get good Middle Eastern around here, really. There is a place in Norwood that we've been to, and a new Lebanese restaurant opened up near the Home Depot we go to in West Roxbury, but still. When we lived in Allston we could - and did - walk to Coolidge Corner to Shawarma King, Trader Joe's, Gourmet India (no longer there, but still), Lemongrass... it was all right there within walking distance. There really isn't much near us within walking distance. Nothing that seems as convenient, anyway. That, of course, got us all to talking about living in a condo in the city or living in a house in the burbs. There are pros and cons to both options, really, but I do see advantages to urban condo living (and so does my stomach).

Though we do have a good movie theater here in our zip-code, and it's where we saw I am Love, the movie that I thought was essentially the same as Mademoiselle Chambon, only in Italian. Both had minimal dialogue and told their stories through visual and other audio cues, like music. Both were about people (a woman in I am Love and a man in Mademoiselle Chambon) in the middle of their life who were apparently unsatisfied with it, and chose to find satisfaction in the company of someone other than their spouse. I won't say more about either, in case you want to see them, but I will say that I while I do recommend both I would not take either too seriously. Because the directors did, in Mademoiselle Chambon especially. Some of the lines - right out of the playbook. How can I still recommend it, then? Because, it's a French movie, and I'm biased towards anything even remotely French. French fries, for example, are my favorite vegetable :)

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In other news, I've finished the back part of my quilt. I have a photo, but just didn't upload it. You'll see it next time. Next step is to get some batting and to start assembling! Hopefully I'll have it done by next summer, but it all has to do with timing (as in having enough free time and being motivated enough in that free time to work on it). Seems that's a theme these days!