Weird stuff on email

No knitting content today - well, ok, I finished a LB Homespun shawl for my neighbour, but that's not exciting. It's a really yuck (to me) shade of green. Now it's done, but I have two balls left over (no jokes, please!). They may go along to my secret-giftee along with the kool-aid scarf.

Now, weirdness. I've recently set up a new email account on a web-based service that I shall not name here (spam-suckers, die!). And so far, spam-free. But the site has advertising. And today, out of the corner of my eye, I saw an ad for "Breastfeeding Bands" - some kind of bracelet thingy that you can wear to help remember which side you nursed on last, for how long, etc. Which is scary, because I right now know at least five VERY pregnant ladies. But I am SO not one of them! And really, of all the weird stuff on the internet, that's gotta be top 10 for me. So, had to share with y'all.

And while I'm ranting, (ok, I'm going to start ranting...) why the holy Hades is it that one CANNOT buy a copy of ANY Erma Bombeck book in ANY of the Chapters or affiliated stores in the Ottawa area? Ok, granted, the lady (god rest her) has been dead for some time. Yeah, so's Shakespeare, and you've got his friggin' books. And granted, most of her books were written in the glorious gawdawful 70s when the phrase "stay at home mom" was a redundancy. But godDAMNit! They're timeless, funny, wonderful books and I REALLY wanted to get a copy of "Motherhood: The Second Oldest Profession" for one of my very pregnant co-worker ladies. Not happening. Pissed me off.

And there I will stop, because frankly kiddies, it's been a pretty rough month and December's not looking much better. There will be upheaval and annoyance and more stress and less sleep than November had (which was too damn much and not near enough, respectively). All I can say is thank heavens for my knitting, otherwise I'd be smoking and drinking again - which would probably kill me inside a month. Now, the fact that I'll be knitting from stash for the foreseeable future is a consolation (actually, a challenge! There, how's that for positive spin?), because to be honest, my stash is LOVELY. Every time I open a bin, I get happy surprises because I've forgotten what treasures I have in there. It's like unpacking Christmas ornaments... no, wait, let's not get into that. Christmas is, to be blunt, F'd up this year. (ok, not so blunt, but I try to stay PG on here!). Yeah, my dream Christmas is right out the plasti-filmed window. Screw it. I've got my knitting.