Where oh where

Generally, Thursdays feel most like a weekend for me. Once preparations are made, we go off to park day and everyone plays and plays and plays.

Yesterday wasn't that blissful. My beloved car won't start, and my mechanic-by-telephone said he'd love to look at it, could I bring it in (no, obviously, it won't start) and after some serious kerfluffle, my spouse arranged for me to come and borrow his car, necessitating a bus trip by me and the son-child. That was actually fun, and getting to go swim at the lake afterwards was also much fun, but worrying about not being able to help out a friend as I'd hoped was a bit more stress.

Then, there was the call at the lake about a swarm of bees in the next city over. I arranged to talk to the person later and headed home. When I told Eric the address, he said, "Oh, no. No. NO. Not a place you want to go after 7pm." Well, okay, he knows this city much more than I do. Then the person returned my "I'm not coming" call, and after I hung up with her, I looked at the caller ID. It read (I kid you not and will provide a picture as soon as New Camera shows up -- whoopiee!) "Pimp oftheyear." Apparently it really isn't the neighborhood I want to be in.

I do not get it. Okay, I get street cred and all this stuff, but why? Why make anything harder on yourself. It's as though the Enron guys would have programmed "White collarcrime" as their cell phone IDs. I don't know. Things remain far too mysterious for me.

One curent mystery is the location of the two pieces of dowel around which I wind newly-spun yarn into skeins, on my "yard stick" which is a piece of board with holes (the diameter of those dowels) driled in it. One round is two yards, which is how I count how many yards I spin.

Yesterday I finished the crabapple roving I'd dyed back when they were in bloom. It wasn't a fully accurate color match, but it was nice thick spinning and I gave the 45 or so yards to a friend and she'll do something lovely with it. But last night, I finally finished the bamboo/merino (well, okay, I stopped -- there's still some of the maddening-to-spin bamboo left) and plied it up, trying to not underply as is my wont.

Now I would dearly like to wind it off and see how many yards it is. But Thing 4 had those "sticks" yesterday, and now she doesn't know where they are. Neither do I. I do know they are not "in my head" as she's insisting.

But when wiping a shelf in the refrigerator two days ago, in preparation for putting new groceries on it, I found nail scissors. On the shelf. Those sticks could almost be anywhere.