Love and Hate...

Love:



--My Central Park Hoodie. A less than enthusiastic photographer who disappeared inside before I could approve the photo shoot and perhaps request additional shots resulted in a handful of photo's that did nothing for either the sweater or the model. This is the best of the bunch and can best be described as me doing my best immitation of a sulky teenager.

--Meeting new people. It was a perfect fall day here in NS and I had the pleasure of meeting a fellow Raveler and Mountie wife from BC who I have been exchanging Rav messages with for the last little while. Lovely lunch and chat and some yarn shopping to boot in Mahone Bay. A thoroughly pleasent meeting and afternoon, which left me feeling very contented and happy, floating on a little yarny-purchase cloud all the way home. Soon after my arrival the dramatic turn off events resulted in the aforementioned hate.

Hate:

--When the dog shits on the floor for the third time since moving into the house in July. Seriously, WTF? This dog is trained. He practically asks in as close to a sentence as you can get with a dog, 'Um, excuse me, but it would appear as though I need to be let out of doors to relieve myself. Could you possibly assist me in facilitating such?' To which we happily reply, 'But of course Hank. By all means.'
Both the constable and I were in the house and not at all pre-occupied. I was at the computer upstairs, he in the livingroom playing PS2 baseball. At no time did Hank politely ask to be let out. Not until the unpleasent stench of dog feces wafted into the craft room was I aware of his wrong doing. Middle of the landing at the top of the stairs, which, thankfully, had a plastic drop cloth down as we are back at the painting. But still...what gives? He'd been out just a little while earlier, and made no attempt to make his needs known. Instant grumpiness. For the entire evening. Which probably lead to the other thing I hate...



--When I don't listen to that inner voice that says, 'Wait to borrow a swift from someone before you decide to wind that skein.' That mess was a lovely, squishy hank of Tanis 'Sweetheart'. Now it is the bane of my existence and will haunt me until tomorrow, as I refuse to do battle with it any more this evening.

I want a glass of red wine so bad it makes me quite literally want to cry.

Halloween Craptacular...

That pretty much says everything I need to say.

I donated the remainder of the cello baggies I had made up to the local RCMP detachment, where I'm sure it will keep Liverpool's finest in poor nutrition for some time to come.

Next year, I am going all out. No holds barred. Kids will be hard pressed to ignore this place 364 days from now, I swear.

Remeber to place your vote in my sidebar for the puppy names. There is a dead heat going at the moment between Hank, Saxon and Johnny Utah. A little prize(s) for name suggesstions in the comments (most up to date post would be preferred from now until the end of Nov for name suggesstions). Something yarny I'm sure. And I promise it won't be craptacular.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go lay down as I battled with a bout of insomnia last night and I'd like to put this whole Halloween debacle behind me.

Until later...