Last weekend we drove downtown Seattle and parked on the street. In Seattle you purchase a parking pass from a machine, as you do in many major cities. The machine spits out a sticker you place on the window that announces when your time is up. Paul asked me to perform this simple task and so I walked up to the machine and put in my credit card. It should have been a clue when I had to push more than expected to get the credit card in the machine. However when I pressed buttons for the sticker my card popped out just enough for me to pinch it between my fingertips and thumb. Problem was it popped out just enough for me to get a grip with my finger tips, but not enough to pull it out. The police and parking departments were called with both stating they were not able to help at this time, please call back. (Note to self, perhaps a credit card in a machine is not an emergency to others, just me!) I walked up the street and found a friendly art gallery owner who had a pair of pliers he'd let me use to retrieve my card. It seems some sort of sticky substance had been placed in this machine because when my card came out it had something very sticky on it. It took an hour to solve the problem, Paul was done and we moved on. My credit card is OK after the adventure, and the experience reinforced the fact that good-hearted people are still out there.
At lunch we had potato/beer cheese soup, apparently a food item I have kept from Paul. He remarked in 20 years I had never offered to make it for him. I, of course, being from beer and cheese country, was quite familiar with its flavours and how to make it, but I also knew the calories it contains and decided not to tempt either of us. Since he remained curious about this soup, Paul decided to ask Siri (on his phone) to help find a recipe and specifically said: "How do you make potato beer cheese soup." Siri answered in her humourless tone: "I don't." Of course, Siri doesn't made soup. We laughed so hard we created a scene in the restaurant.
Finally, I have worked all week on the baby blanket with the three shades of green and separating strips of tan. I knew the tan was about enough to get the job done, but that it would be close, it was too close. I had to "harvest" some tan from the cast-on side; that process is described here. Even with that "harvest" there wasn't enough yarn to complete the project. I've added some brown, but I don't like what it is becoming. The blanket is too small and having to add the brown yarn negatively impacts the look as far as I'm concerned. It will be coming out (frogged), but here it is before then:
These small mishaps come with low consequences and in the end each gave me a chuckle. It is good to be able to laugh at myself; it helps keep me humble.
At lunch we had potato/beer cheese soup, apparently a food item I have kept from Paul. He remarked in 20 years I had never offered to make it for him. I, of course, being from beer and cheese country, was quite familiar with its flavours and how to make it, but I also knew the calories it contains and decided not to tempt either of us. Since he remained curious about this soup, Paul decided to ask Siri (on his phone) to help find a recipe and specifically said: "How do you make potato beer cheese soup." Siri answered in her humourless tone: "I don't." Of course, Siri doesn't made soup. We laughed so hard we created a scene in the restaurant.
Finally, I have worked all week on the baby blanket with the three shades of green and separating strips of tan. I knew the tan was about enough to get the job done, but that it would be close, it was too close. I had to "harvest" some tan from the cast-on side; that process is described here. Even with that "harvest" there wasn't enough yarn to complete the project. I've added some brown, but I don't like what it is becoming. The blanket is too small and having to add the brown yarn negatively impacts the look as far as I'm concerned. It will be coming out (frogged), but here it is before then:
These small mishaps come with low consequences and in the end each gave me a chuckle. It is good to be able to laugh at myself; it helps keep me humble.
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