There were doors all round the hall

I woke up this morning thinking about doors. Phrases like foot in the door, doors slammed in your face, door to your heart cycled in my brain. I also thought about which door you come in makes a statement about your relationship with the person you are visiting. My grandparents had a front door that no one ever (and I mean ever) used. We came in through the backdoor. Of course that door lead right into the kitchen so we entered right into the heart of the house. The house I grew up in we entered through the garage, even if you walked right pass the front door to do it.

My friends at Rivendell make it very clear that framily (friends & family) come through the backdoor. It was a badge of honor to me when Semperfiona said, "Girl you come in through the back from now on." I felt like I was just picked to the cool kids softball team.

I thought about my home, we actually come in through the side. I walk right pass the backdoor and go around to the side. I have tried to figure out why. It is closer to go to the backdoor, but habit makes me always go to the side.

Today as I rushed through the 19 degree weather and the wind that would make the wicked witch of the west nervous about falling houses I came to my side door. My lock was stuck! I spent 15 minutes trying to get the lock to turn. Finally, after swallowing my frozen pride I called my neighbor who does have a key to my backdoor. I huddled, teeth chattering at the backdoor waiting for a rescue and cursed myself for not having a backdoor key. Maybe, I will become a backdoor woman at my own home.

Something Spicy!

I love spicy food. The tingle and the burn just do it for me. Tonight I ate a chile that burned a hole in my freaking tongue and it wasn't that fabulous. It made me reassess my love of spicy. Maybe I should stay with the more R rated spicy and veer clear of the full on X rated spicy. My poor tongue still feels a little on the battered side.

Update on the lungs, Jenny is doing great. According to her mother she is breathing regular air instead of tanked air. Jenny is walking further and further everyday. She will be sent home (okay to her temporary home) next week. After ninety days, Jenny and her mother, will be allowed to go back to their home in Chicago. Jenny is looking forward to doing all those mundane things that I take for granted. Things like housework and getting a job, all things that she has not been able to do. I am trying to imagine not seeing Selena at IHOP on Wednesday nights. Maybe we should starting doing IHOP in Springfield IL once a month just to keep up with the Northern Knitter extraordinaire.

Okay the season opener of Torchwood is about to begin, more guy on guy action, gotta run. "Excuse me have you seen a blow fish driving a sports car?"

Breathe Deep!

LUNGS!!! Two of them have entered into the knitting collectives' lives as of Wednesday. Instead of knitting and having ribald conversations at IHOP this week, we were all knitting and having ribald conversations in a waiting room at Barnes. Transplantmom's daughter got her new lungs. A beautiful pair from Texas came just for Jenny. I hope the family that sent those lungs to us knows how thankful we are for their gift. Our lives have been centering around going to Barnes, knitting and waiting for news. And do I have news, the lungs are working!!! Jenny is breathing off the ventilator and without her usual oxygen tank. She is sitting up in a chair and being doted on by those who love her. It is amazing how much different life looks today for all of us. Jenny will be able to do some of the things that I take for granted, like breathing without the aid of a medical device. Life is so sweet when you least expect it. For anyone wanting to know more about my friend Jenny and how you can help her please go to http://www.cotaforjennifersm.com/ or at least flip over your Driver License and sign your donor card. The joy of Jenny's family's right now is the best gift anyone could give. I know I am not my usual jaded self, but being around Jenny and her family right now is so inspiring, how can anyone not be touched.

Belly of the Beast

First I hate bullies, second I believe in facing my demons, and third I am not a person to slink away and let my adversaries think I am beaten. On Friday I had to face my demon to the right here. I swallowed hard and went down to City Hall to register my car at the Collector of Revenue's Department of Revenue Office. I could have went anywhere to get this done, but you know, I thought, I love the ladies at the DOR there and I trust them to do a good job so why would I go anywhere else. I bucked up got some fortitude and walked in. I shook a little at first. Here was this place I spent 7 and half years of my life and people I saw everyday, and I was shaking. I don't know what I expected, but it went perfect. I was hugged and told how much I was missed. I was complimented on the weight I had lost and given nothing, but love from my former co-worked. The inner sanctum of the Vain Daly team stayed away, life is good. It amazed how happy, happy, joy, joy everyone was in the office and then how several of them followed me into the hall to tell me how bad things truly were and how lucky I was to be out of there. Overall it was a very empowering day. Facing the horror of my past made me glad I had put it all behind me. Yeah for me!!!

Carmen's Cafe

Thursday nights are Cuz night. For almost eight years now my cousin and I get together and have dinner at various local restaurants. Our wonderfully zaftig bodies have enjoyed quite a few good meals accompanied with good dish. Tonight was an exceptional choice, Carmen's Cafe (2718 Gravois Ave). They bill themselves as a Mediterranean Bar & Grill with a hookah lounge. The cafe has taken over the location of the former Mary's Fine Foods in the shadow of St. Francis of De Sales. 7-letter Deborah (http://ephemeralchaos.blogspot.com/) raved about the place, so exploring we went. First I would like to say they had the coolest chairs. Okay so that doesn't make the food good, but from the first fried pita chip smeared with hummus, I knew Deborah hadn't lied and the chairs portended fine food. I am used to the St. Raymond's version of hummus which has more of a bite to it, but Carmen's creamier recipe made a believer out of me. Cuz and I kept saying, they have got to be using some kind of cheese or yogurt to make these chickpeas so yummy. We also enjoyed some of the freshest stuffed grape leaves I have ever had. The falafal wrap was amazing and coupled with the old standby of french fries, absolutely perfect. Our well rounded tummy's hummed all evening over the good meal and good service we received. Thanks 7-letter Deborah for the tip. Our only complaint was they were all out of baklava. I consoled myself with a cookie later at Borders.

Apparently, Carmen's has belly dancers on various nights of the weekend, I was told to call and ask which night (314-771-6442). So I thought a belly dancer picture would be perfect for my blog, so you can look above for that picture. But on a lark I thought let me see if I can find a photo of my belly dancer friend, Osmon, from Egypt. My motorcycle trip through the streets of Luxor on the back of Osmon's Honda was one of the craziest things that ever happened to me in a foreign country. So I searched under "belly dancer Osmon Luxor" and found this wonderful picture of him. He is truly one of the most lithe people I have ever had the fortune of being introduced to. I was told while in his prime Osmon would dance while holding in his teeth a table piled with two chairs and a then a boy would dance on top of heap of furniture. That is something I would have loved to seen, but by the time I met him he had all silver capped teeth and only taught belly dancing. Osmon is of course the gentleman in green.

Godsons and Such

So I am at work in the library right now monitoring a bunch of Internet users. I am really unsure as to what to do so I thought I would blog. My weekend has been crazy, but in a good way. My unofficial godson was in town this weekend. He stormed in on Friday night and left on Saturday in a large Penske moving truck. I love the kid, but he really does get around. He and his girlfriend were moving her stuff back to New Orleans. They both have done time as Katrina refugees and she was finally moving her stuff back to the Big Easy.

We stayed up late talked about life, New Orleans, and hormone levels. I had knitting project for both of them and neither was ready to go. So I will have to send them down, which is good because godson loves packages in the mail. I however love presents and the dear boy got me the best present. He gave me a necklace and matching earrings with the New Orleans sewer cover on them. See above photo for example. I love them, I am in fact wearing them now. Who knew sewer covers could be fashionable?

The Coziest

Taste like everything else is so subjective. So to say that I have garish taste is in fact not true. Maybe to you it is, but trust me when I say this someone out there has more garish taste then I do. In fact I can prove it with an illustrative story. Tonight when I had the serendipitous fate to being surrounded by some of my most favorite people I pointed out a tea cozy that I liked. It was knitted in a stripped pattern of carnival of colors. I could see the doubt and I will just say it, judgement, of my companions on the outrageousness of the item in question. Fortunately, I have a strong enough ego that I could just roll my eyes and think, fabulous comes at a cost. But to prove that I am not that over the top, here are examples of three tea cozy styles you would never see in my house. Felted and freaky
The Sigmund and the Sea Monster Models Camels spit, enuf said