No news (is good news) from Dad

My father is making my blogging life difficult lately. It seems that almost every time I talk to my mother on the phone, she has some good or interesting news for me but my father will call out in the background, "Tell her she can't put that on her blog!" Dad is suspicious of anyone's motives for putting anything remotely personal on a public forum. According to him, Facebook is responsible for the current unemployment rate, rampant drug use among our teenagers, terrorism in general, and probably the creation of original sin. Any kind of blog is just a dim yet still dangerous reflection of Facebook and not to be trusted. I told him that not enough people read my blog to be able to overthrow any countries. [They might create a small insurrection at something on the order of a Starbucks but my typical readers would soon settle for a cafe mocha.] Whatever. I have been forbidden to pass along any of his information.

That's too bad because I would have liked to mention that he shared a hospital wing with some of the people injured in the collapse of the Cowboys' "practice bubble" the week before Mothers' Day. If he kept his door propped open, he could occasionally see someone famous walk by for a visit. But I promised not to mention that.

Also off limits was his recent gift to Mom. Which reminds me, Dad always writes each of us a Valentine's Poem. I would like to return the favor now:

There once was a horseman from Texas
Who felt that a car should protect us;
He was willing to pay for
A car that was safer
So he went out and bought Mom a **cough cough**

Oh well, I promised not to talk about it.

On another note...

Here are some stitch markers I saw advertised online:

The title for the ad?
"Accessories for the Not-so-Discerning Knitter"

I could have used one of these stitch markers this weekend (the "Oops" one -- that's as far as I go in my knitting vocabulary). I was working on my Branching Out scarf (see sidebar) and realized that I was short one stitch. I'm still not sure how that happened because I am careful to count stitches after each row. I'm working with a blend of mohair and silk that looks like sewing thread and it is really hard to pick out stitches. Not only are the stitches tiny, but this yarn (as most mohairs) really clings to itself. I finally found the dropped stitch which had fallen to nine rows below my working row! Nine rows! That is a lot of unknitting to have to do, especially in this yarn.

oops oops oops ...

but at least I didn't mention any of Dad's news

............................................. oops ..............