Happy shoesday

I grew up in Eastern Oregon. I am obliged to own a pair of cowboy boots. These are about as sissy as cowboy boots can get. They have jewelry and frillies, fer crysake! They don't get a lot of wear, because I have abnormally high arches and they sorta hurt, but every now and then, I gotta go country. I loves 'em!

DH is almost over his respiratory crud. His technique of staying under the covers all weekend until the illness gets tired and leaves has a LOT to reccommend it, not least being its effectiveness. He has made it to work yesterday and today. There's tomorrow, then he gets a four day weekend to rest up in.

And next week this time, we will be flying to Oahu to see my niece, her dear husband, and most of that side of the family. Brace yourself for eager and inexpert photos of tropical flora and touristic fauna. If only I had a camera the night I saw the guy walking down the main drag of Waikiki wearing a hat made to represent the end of a penis. I nearly wet my pants, I was laughing so hard. Shrieking with glee I kept remarking to DH, "I've never seen such a perfect dickhead!" People turned to see why I was howling, and I would point at the lad, blushing amidst his buddies. Poor boy. I think he just wanted to fluster some girls, and wound up being followed (they were headed the same direction we were) by an old bag who didn't have the manners to shut up and be invisible. It's like young women wearing revealing clothes, then being all upset because dirty old men notice. Well, DUH!

Meanwhile I have house sitters to comfirm and clothes to pack and lists to make and ohh, the vacation mojo is perking away right proper!

Here, at last, are the finished cropped finger gloves. I have yarn left. Not enough for a pair of socks. But mitts . . . Bet I could get a pair of mitts out of it. Lacey mitts. (cue the music as design possibilities start dancing through my head like little ballerinas in the Nutcracker: Snowflakes, flowers, the coffee fairy . . .)