My comment on a thread on the Knitter's Review forum - Heavens to Betsy and Golly Gee, if an occasional four-letter word causes you to feel faint, please feel free to not read my blog, because I will continue to use "curse words" on the occasions when such language is deemed (BY ME, as Author and Supreme High Ruler of my own blog) the most accurate language to properly convey my sentiments on certain subjects. The Next button works, and I won't be offended if you employ it. Thank you.

There are certain words that offend me, and I tend to avoid blogs that use them. The disgusting five-letter word that sets my teeth on edge and makes me want to barf is "hubby." Eeew, I think it's the first time I have ever written that particular five-letter Word, and my fingers are trembling with revulsion. Waves of nausea engulf me at the sight of That Word, because for me it conjures up images of Wilma Flintstone's enlightened relationship with Fred. Particularly when used in a sentence like "My hubby won't let me buy more knitting needles!!!!! LOL!!!!" If I see a sentence like that in a blog it's a pretty good indicator that the rest of the content is not going to be of any interest to me and might possibly make me ill, so I don't bookmark it or bother with it again. Seems to me that those who can't take certain other words can simply do the same. It's a big Internet, and I'm amused and amazed that some people apparently think their sensibilities should be the benchmark for everybody, or feel this was an issue worthy of opening for "debate", but I will spare you one of my oldie-but-goodie classic rants about my gender.


The first day of the post-funeral world and my to-do list is still a mile long as I try to get life back to some sort of normalcy. Car serviced, haircut, dog wash, clean out closets for Goodwill, that's just for starters. Maybe even squeeze in a little retail therapy with Girlchild before she has to leave town again. I'm planning to go back to work early next week. The funeral went very well, the dreaded Extravaganza was pared down to simple, basic and dignified, and we all survived the day. It really was NOT as difficult or emotional as I'd feared - I think that after all of the stress of my husband's last weeks, the people closest to him were all mentally ready and already emotionally wrung out. There was a surprising amount of laughter and chatter and joking around in the car on the way to the cemetery. I wonder what the driver made of it. Now it's just the paperwork - there is almost no estate to speak of, since there was plenty of time to structure things properly - so that's minor. I do need to call in an inscription for his headstone, and again, there was a lot of joking around about possible inscriptions - my son had us snorting wine out our noses at dinner by suggesting, "What the fuck are YOU lookin' at?" We all agreed that sounded the most like him, but I think we'll go with "Loving husband and father." It doesn't have the same panache, but it's also very much him.


God, my kids are fabulous and I am so extremely proud of them. They have been so strong and mature and wonderful throughout this nightmare. At this moment, I am feeling really good and grateful - we came through the War as an intact family unit, and my husband's horrible suffering is over. We'll never stop missing him, but we will go on and do just fine.


My daughter has been dragging out boxes of old family photos, and I'm going to scan some to share one of these days - I was so afraid that I didn't have any good pictures of my husband and me together, since we were absolutely terrible about sitting still for photos, but she found some really nice ones from a few years ago, Before Cancer, and we're going to make some enlargements as well as scanning them. Here's a weird little thing that sort of freaked us out - the scanner is hooked up to my husband's computer. We've used his computer in recent weeks, it was working just fine. The other day my son turned it on to use the scanner, and the computer has had a system failure - won't boot at all. My husband died, and so did his computer. Definitely a Twilight Zone-y moment.

Yes, this is still a knitting blog, and I apologize for the frequent detours out of knitting territory lately. We'll be returning to our regularly scheduled programming soon. I have most of the second sleeve done on the white Sitcom Chic, and I really need to get moving on that - it's already the end of July. I can't wait to cast on one for myself, out of that red Softball cotton sent by an anonymous benefactor. My yarn stash is truly big enough to be disgustingly obscene, and I need to work my way through it before I let the siren song of Elann lure me in. Unless I decide I just can't live without more Bandolino. I have some in black which will become a Useful Office Cardigan soon, and now I'm thinking a sand one would be nice as well.... Better quit shopping and sitting on my butt blogging, and go work on that white sleeve.