hmm.

Okay...Maria inspired me. She just blogged about how she hasn't felt like blogging lately but that she'd at least try and I have been feeling the same way but I also should at least try. Another thing? Her blog is called Kicking Ass and Taking Temps and I think I may have unwittingly lifted the rhythm and syntax from her blog title for mine - Lemon trees and dirty streets. Sorry, Maria. It was the first thing that popped into my head when I was setting up this blog. It's kind of like writing a song and getting excited about it because it is so good, and then you realize that it's already a song, written by somebody else. I just hope that my blog posts are mostly original thoughts, beamed directly in from outer space.

Yeah. I haven't felt much like blogging lately, but I should at least try. Wait....that sounds familiar. Dangit again! We all do it once in a while.

I've been knitting a lot. Although, it doesn't seem like I've finished anything lately. Oh wait. Here it is.

The Christmas Stocking before getting hotwashed, as a cozy sleeping bag:
And here is The Christmas Stocking, after being shrunk in the wash, smelling of a day at the sheep pen, still damp.

The colors turned out being a little bit silly. See the stripes on the right? Those were supposed to last for the entire stocking. But they didn't. That stocking consumed every last bit and then demanded more. MORE! So I fed it the last of my very soft, very cozy, Glazed Carrot Malabrigo Worsted Merino, but still it wanted MORE! I tried to feed it that recycled sweater wool, but the color was funky, the texture all wrong. An emergency trip to the Yarn Store never hurt anybody except for my credit card debt. There, I decided not to try and match the original colors, but instead went with a deep blue and grey that looked good with the orange. (I thought.)

Here is a funny excerpt from a web show that a friend of mine just linked to on Facebook:


All that's left for me to say is that don't ever feed the seagulls at Hermosa Beach. I learned the terrifying way. It was like a remake of Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. All I remember was throwing a chunk of croissant to one gull and the rest is a beaky, mangy, squawking cloud of greed and desperation. Thanks, California. I can check running from seagulls, in absolute terror, while screaming for the baby's and my life, off of my list of things to do before I die.

I hope you are still reading. Thanks for hanging in there. Hope your holidays are shaping up, despite everything, to contain nuggets of joy. We here at the Inglewood Hacienda are slowly collecting the cheer, giftwrapped surprise for Edie by rediscovered vintage holiday postcard collection by cup of contraband hot chocolate.

What special moments are making their way into your holidays?