Monday, November 26, 2012


Happy Holidays everyone!

With that said, I'm going to back up a smidge.

Holidays usually equal mass crocheting, Elf viewings, eating meat and cheese platters, sampling drinking lots of holiday cheer and hangin w/ the fam.  So far, I'm right on track, minus Elf.  But don't worry, we usually have that DVD in from December thru January and it gets played at least ten times.

I had my craft fair November 17th, and it was awesome.  Really, the only difference between this year and last year was the pile-o-beardies.  I had crocheted around 25 and sold 24.  The only lone beardie was bright green, so I spose I'm not surprised.  I sold a ton of beanies, fingerless gloves and headbands too.  I had a ton of band kids buy the beards and then walk around with them on during the whole fair.  Which was an obvious win-win for this chica. Big thanks to Kelly Riddle for helping me.  You rocked it.

After the craft fair, I immediately caught the cold Rodney'd been rockin, and I actually couldn't even go to work on Monday.  I think adrenaline kept me from getting sick for the fair, and then the second I let my guard down, the cold found me.

Luckily for my health, last week was a short week, so I was home for good on Wednesday afternoon crocheting my little heart out again (etsy and custom orders). 

Thursday morning. Ok people. I need to pause and let this be known.  DON'T TEXT ME "HAPPY THANKSGIVING" AT 6:30AM.  This has happened the last few years running, and its rude.  You might as well text me, "GET UP RIGHT NOW!!! ON YOUR DAY OFF!! I HATE YOU AND YOUR LITTLE DOG TOO".  Except THIS year, I was smart enough to put my phone on silent.  So HA. Tricks on everyone else on your mass text list.

Thursday, Rodney had to work in the  morning and our "dinner" was at noon, so I woke up and made individual pumpkin pies in large muffin tins and my signature cranberry sauce (just the bag-o-berries boiled with water, 2/3 C brown sugar and 1/3 C white sugar).  Dinner was at my parents and its was very low key as usual.  It was me, Hottie Hubs, Mom, Dad, Papa,  cousin Sean and his gf, and Uncle Tom.  We played the usual 31 knock, and I won the 2nd match.  Wah-ha-ha-ha.

Friday Rodney had to work again and called to tell me he wanted to go to Walmart. I about choked on my Via. Needless to say, we didn't go on BLACK FRIDAY. Duh.  What do I look like? I mean I was back in my jammies and hadn't put make up on so don't answer that question.  But I wasn't braindead.  So we went on Saturday. :)

This brings me to the post title.  Not this trip (thank the good Lord) but the last two times I've been to Walmart,  I've been walking behind someone as they're crop dusting me with their loud release of flatulence.  And not some elderly man that no longer hears/feels/cares about farting in public.  And not a pajama bottoms, tweety bird topped, scrunchie wearin, Walmart regular either.  Both times were from normally dressed, grown men pushing the cart for their wife and kids. 

Don't get me wrong.  I love a good toot.  They're freakin hilarious.  I mean, they're like snowflakes.  All different and beautiful in their own way.  But even I don't do that.  I at least hide in the fish tank aisle and blame it on the oxygen bubbles if need be.