Monday Monday

So good I had to say it twice.

Two is apparently my number today.

2 = The number of people touching my boobs today.

Don't get excited, R & M. Why do my kids read my blog, anyway? They should know better by now.

Normally, two people handling my boobies first thing in the morning is the start to a pretty good day. But, today, I had to go get a follow-up mammo to make sure they were right about the piece they cut out 6 months ago.

2 = The number of actual smashings. The nurse/technician says "I'll compress and you say "when" when it's too much for you to bear any more."


2 = The number of times I said "when" before the compression started.

Two is also the number of pictures I want to show you of this shawl. (Had to get back to knitting, people. It's not just about me and my wild fantasy life, you know. Ah, Sting....sigh.)

I knitted this for M's prom dress.

Bernat Matrix (about 3 balls)
Color: Champagne
Needles: #17
Pattern: Your basic drop stitch.

Took a couple of nights in front of the TV because, although I did use #17s, Matrix is very slippery.


M liked it. It matched her dress really well. She got a number of compliments on it, too, though it was interesting to me that the boys were more fascinated by the fact that it had been hand knitted, rather than the girls.

My one tip: garter stitch (which is what this is, between the drop stitches) pulls in when you turn it on its side. So you have to knit a much loooonger shawl than you think you do.


2 = Number of cats I knitted recently. Well, actually, there were three, but Brittany took the pink one home. And, anyway, 3 doesn't fit this whole 2 motif I've got going here.

The blue one is knit from Yarn Bee Luscious. The color is Lollipop. Took less than one skein. The brown and blue one is LB Fun Fur, I think. I threw away the ball band, so I can't even tell you the color. About one skein. Scraps for the embroidery, which is harder than you might think.


I wanted to do that cat pattern that everyone else does. You know the one. But I couldn't find my printed copy of the pattern. Then I couldn't find it online. Then I just got tired of looking (and distracted by all the other free knitting patterns I came across in the looking). So I just made it up as I went.

The body is a square. I just cast on and knit until it was square. I didn't design the clever way you seam it up. I did that from memory (of the pattern I couldn't find).

The head is also made up. It's basically a diamond shape (with flattish tips on top and bottom), folded over, stuffed and sewn on. I relied mainly on the stuffing to give it shape.

Two, by the way, is also the number of people at work today who asked me if I flashed Sting my boobs.

Apparently, my shy and quiet demeanor in the office is not fooling anyone.

Patwoman VS The Police

Well, not versus. I just thought that sounded catchy.

Let me say something about The Police: Back in the eighties, when Patwoman was a 40-year-old teenager, Sting et al were the first group to really speak to me (in that way that music speaks to a person). I remember I was driving my Dodge Dart and smoking my Sobrani Black Russian cig on Hwy 13 (where the hell was I going?) and this song came on. The drummer seemed to be pushing the beat, like he couldn't stop, couldn't slow down. And the vocals. Oh my. Like he was barely restraining himself. And something in my head just went "exactly."

A while later, I met T. I tried to explain to him this obsession. But I don't think he got it. Not really. Because, for the next couple of years, whenever The Police would tour close to us, I would say things like "I would totally kill for Police tickets." and "Who do I have to sleep with to get Police tickets?" and "The only thing I really want for my birthday is Police tickets."
But we never got to go. And right after that, the group broke up.

Now, flash forward to today. And The Police are together and touring again. And it's our 23rd wedding anniversary this month. So Thursday, T and I went to Chicago to finally see The Police in concert.

Row 12 on the field.

The boys have aged some, that's true. So have I. (I think Stew coaches soccer at my kids' old middle school.) But, you know, if you shut your eyes, 23 years just drop away and your brain is going "exactly" again.

And Sting still looks good. Like, really good.

Know who else looks good? Sting's son. Fictionplane was the opening group for The Police. I confess, I hadn't heard of them. But when I saw the lead singer, I knew.

Quickly, I sent a text message to M: Google Fictionplane. Lead? She responded: Joe Sumner.

First, let me say, these guys rock. They could open for a supergroup like The Police even if they weren't blood-related. Awesome group. Very professional stage presence.

Now, let me also say, Joe Sumner... have mercy! ...this guy is fine.

Fine.

The only thing I really didn't enjoy about this concert (and it was, in no way, Sting's fault) were the dumbasses who sat in the middle of our row and got up to get beer 40 times during the concert. That's just rude, people.

Patwoman always gets the concert's supply of Maitais before the concert begins. They fit nicely under the seat, and you can drink seamlessly and with consideration for others. Because, let's face it, people. Once the music starts, it's no longer time to go wandering around. It's time to dance and sing (ee-yo-oh!) and maybe flash Sting your boobs.

LOL. Don't get excited, kids, if you're reading this. Mommy didn't flash Sting her boobs.

Not after what happened last time.