chocolate milk aids ribbonThe teens were in the front room.  I could hear them killing headless pigs on Runescape…..I made my way through the room to check on them, aggravate them a bit, and pick up in there.  Next to the middle guys laptop, was a red ribbon.  Perfectly twisted and pierced with a pin. 

Boys don’t generally have ribbons. “What’s the ribbon from?” Ready for whatever random answer was about to come…. wondering if a cute girl was involved and somewhat irritated by it and the bowl with ramen noodle residue and assorted wrappers also being left on the coffee table.

Without so much as a glance up from wood chopping (another runescape thing- which I absolutely do not find fun in the slightest….) he answered “Oh- I didn’t buy chocolate milk today- instead- I bought that- they were selling those for Aids research at lunch…….”

I had to leave the room.  (ok- in full disclosure- it is getting close to my period—- but- my boy sacrificed his beloved chocolate milk for others. *sniff* I love that kid.)

That boy drinks chocolate milk for lunch every single day.  He loves it.  And- If there is world championship for “getting the most for teenage dollars” This kid would be the champ. He budgets and plans his lunch money spending for the week……and instead- he donated it to Aids research.

For once- I didn’t nag about the ramen noodle bowl. 

 I want to be like my kid when I grow up.    (well- except for the whole killing headless pig things- and virtual wood chopping…..not so much wiht that)

In honor of chocolate milk giving—- I’m going to check into getting involved with this the global P.E.A.C.E. plan… what are you doing about aids?

 Dear Lord- I pray that you’d continue to grow my guys in compassion and generosity, I love you Lord- and thank you for them all. amen-

knitting update- Flower Basket shawl- is on pattern repeat 5:

flower basket shawl update

molly and her cohortsIt’s just one of the many things I am culinarilary (just made that word up- I like it)  dependant on. 

It takes up my counter space and requires constant cleaning.  (Why can’t ANYONE put paper-towel or a napkin over what they are cooking????  Including me:()

Like a magic black box- (sometimes considerably brighter than me) it heats everything from spaghettios to cold coffee-it has faithfullyu served.

In addition- as a SAHM- it is one of my few and much trusted friends/co-workers. The microwave- has just been so close to me- being in the kitchen and all— where I spend so much of my waking LIFE!) (along of- course, with the washer-dryer, the  stove, dishwasher and fridge- we also chat- but they tend to be more reserved.)

At least- it was. Until Sunday night.

When my microwave gave up the ghost. 

We (ok- maybe it was just me)  quickly went through all the phases of grief:

Shock- (WHAT? Something is wrong with my microwave?)

Denial- (It’s just a fuse- it’ll be fine) 

Bargaining- (Maybe, if I clean it- it will work…)

Guilt- (maybe I worked it too hard…I should have cleaned the vent more often.. it’s all my fault.)

Anger- (I can’t believe I ever bought such a piece of crap!)

Depression- (I have no microwave. *sniff* )

Acceptance/hope- (I can get another microwave… maybe it will even be better!  I CAN live without a microwave!)

By Monday night- I could stand it no more.  There was no popcorn… I am incapable of cooking vegetables on the stove-top and I had a pile of pans with burnt spaghettios begging to be cleaned (that part isn’t true- I swear FlyLady!- but sounded funny) …so I trudged off to Walmart- in search of a replacement.

I stood in the microwave aisle like a deer caught in the headlights of oncoming traffic.  I had no idea there would be so many demands on me so soon after my grief.  Overwhelmed, I looked from shiny microwave to shiny microwave. 

There were: White ones.  Black ones. Stainless steel ones.  Microwaves the size of my first car.  Microwaves barely big enough to make a bag of popcorn.  Microwaves with grilling capabilities and microwaves with more buttons and options and computer memory than my laptop.

I settled on a (cheap) stainless/black model with a grilling capability.  (Which I will probably never use- but- my kids (probably to bring green army men to a painfilled, melting doom) will.

As you can see in the pic above- she now proudly sits on the countertop.  Maybe, a little too proudly.  Although, she’s already proved competent in the cooking of last nights green beans, I have a concern.  She seems to be glaring at the toaster and cavorting with the coffeepot.  I think she is unhappy with the cultural diversity on the countertop. 

Apparently the toaster is not of their “ethnicity”.  White plastic is frowned upon by the much  prejudiced stainless crew.  Too bad.   It’s my house.

I like cultural diversity.

I think I need to get out more.

Instead- I’ll distract you with my  shiny pretty current knit:

flowerbasket shawl zephyr wool/silkIn a fit of unoriginal hat overload  rebellion- I cast on a new piece of lace that I plan on wering for Christmas. 

 It’s the Flower Basket Shawl- from Fibertrends/ interweave press. A very simple 10 row repeat.  I love the yarn- Zephyr silk/wool laceweight- 2 strands held together- Ruby and Garnet.  I’m knitting on US size 5 Addi Turbo Lace Needles.

Maybe this will calm my Christmas cleaning- shopping nerves…. more pics are on flickr.

Personally- I think it’s mis-named.  To me- it looks like angels with their wings raised over their heads…. like this-  but then- I think I need to get out more— or maybe use less fumey cleaning supplies;)

And now- to work on painting the trim where the bad cat has scratched away the wood AND the paint….