Well, I didn’t see much on page 27. Well I did see some things that made me slightly grumpy, but I got over it fast. And then I remembered. I hadn’t done my blogstalker yet this week. And blogstalker week ends today. So, it’s another double topic day!

What is your favorite breakfast? Oddly enough there was a picture of my favorite breakfast on (you guessed it!) page 27 of my flickr photostream. Chicken minis from Chick-Fil-A. Little fried chicken nuggets wrapped up in yeasty rolls with a sweet glaze. Nummers!

And the second question: What makes you into a human being in the morning? That is a bit more detailed. I get up a good 30-45 minutes before anyone else. I plurk, I shower, I check my normal online haunts quickly, and then I get up and fix breakfast and lunch for everyone. I get dressed, I try to squeeze in a spot of makeup. And finally, sometimes before I take the boys to school, but more frequently after, I get a bit of breakfast. But the thing that makes me human is the diet pepsi. It runs through my veins. I audibly sigh after I take the first drink in the morning. Scary, huh? Well you asked. Ok, technically the blogstalker folks asked. But you’re the one who’s still here reading after this near month of craziness. (And I love ya for it!)

Hey, maybe tomorrow we’ll have some knitting. That’s funny, isn’t it?

I love ______ because _______.

Hmmm… as one might be able to tell I’m not in a love mood lately. I’m in a grumpy, mean, rotten, do you really think it’s a good idea to sit next to me mood. But I’ll try.

I love baking because it’s scientific.

I like things to have a rhyme and a reason. A plan and a predictable result. Well most times anyways. And that is why I love baking. You add the ingredients in the proper proportions – you know what you can futz with and what you can’t – and then walla! (Just kidding!!!) Voila! You’ve made something wonderful. And baking makes people happy. There’s a man at my husband’s work who likes nothing better than *my* chocolate chip cookies. And my lemon bars have become legendary. And it’s just science people. Nothing but science. Measuring and stirring, and baking.

Now if I could only perfect the science of good hand-kneaded bread. Because I suck at that.

The second topic is what motivated me to start knitting.

I have no idea. All of the sudden I decided I wanted to learn to knit. And I mentioned it in passing to my husband, and for Christmas of 2004 he bought me one of those Learn To Knit Kits, and some grey-blue Lion Brand Wool-Ease.

And I proceeded to do disastrous things with yarn and needles. In fact, I made holey rock blankets. Huh?

When the boys were younger they used to collect rocks. Anytime we went somewhere that had interesting rocks, say in a garden or driveway, they would take one and bring it home. They were all very pretty. I’m not sure where they all got off to. Anyhow, one day after a few weeks of really struggling with the knitting, my son picked up one of my swatches with an excited gleam in his eyes.

“Mommy! Mommy! Can I have this?” (This was when they still called me mommy. I miss it!)

And I, being ever so proud of my knitting, told him of course he could. He told me how these would be perfect blankets for his rocks. Perfect! And the best part was the big holes in them meant the rocks could breathe.

Yeah. Gotta love a kid for bringing you down a notch with love and jam-hands. Anyhow, after that I realized I needed professional help. So I went to Michael’s and took a short lesson. And then I got it. And the rest is history. Or herstory. Or an embarrassing collection of unfinished projects and stashed yarn and books and magazines.

You decide.

We spent some time with the boy scouts this weekend, doing the Cuboree thing. There was archery, and tower climbing, and hayrides, and… chants. Lots and lots and lots of chants. There is an ongoing spirit contest during the weekend and some of these adults have too much time on their hands. So in the spirit of Cuboree, here is my ode to knitting. Repeat after me:

I knit some stitches everyday

It helps to keep the grumps away

I have great friends who are here to stay

By knitting I was shown the way

Pathetic yes? The scary part is when I was younger I fancied myself a poet. I thought I would write poetry, and live alone in a house on top of a hill. So tragic and forlorn.

Anyhow, the Cuboree this weekend had a “Down On The Farm” theme which netted me an ill-fitting t-shirt – I so need to work on modding tees. But an extra benefit was that I got to meet and pet this little fellow. He was so soft! And I gave the boys a 2 minute education on what we do with wool. They actually listened – color me surprised!