Fancy attire, dinner music, and a little gourmet dining {p.h.f.r}

{pretty}

My first lace shawl, which I recently finished knitting, but now need to block (eek!)  I've never been one for blocking - of course, most of my knitting items have been made of acrylic (though I recently learned it's possible to block even acrylic - drat! now I have no excuses.)  I'm especially intimidated at the thought of blocking mohair and silk - decadent fibers that I'm now terrified I'll ruin in the process!  ::SO FLUFFY!!!::

 

Our most recent trip to the zoo yesterday revealed that the trumpeter swans were, in fact, a pair and have a new family!  So cute!  And such a good excuse to use a rarely enjoyed and slightly snooty word: "cygnets"!

{happy}

 

My little pianists - even Jelly Bean is getting in on the action these days.

 {funny}

Toddler Gourmet:  Pan-seared HotWheels, anyone?

My little guy still refuses to try out potty training, but apparently Potty Scotty is interesting to him again.  After requesting the doll, he entertained himself for at least an hour, asking me to "make a bottle" (i.e. refill with tap water) for Scotty.  He even admits that Scotty is a big boy for using the potty and gets to wear underwear now instead of a diaper.  Progress?  Could be...

{real}

If I can't stop her from eating Cheerios off the floor, I can at least distract her with Cheerios on a clean surface on the floor.  She adamantly refused to sit in the high chair for this snack.  (Too restricting apparently.)

Back in high school, I used to ponder strange questions like "If we took the contents of every locker in the entire school and dumped it all out on a big scale, how much would it all weigh?" and "If I were stranded on a deserted island with only a pile of tomatoes, would I be able to make ketchup?"  (At the time, I hated tomatoes.)  These days, I find myself still pondering odd questions whose answers have no real value, like "If we were able to save every UN-consumed Cheerio over the course of our children's lives (including children yet-to-be-born) just how big would that pile of Cheerios be?  How many boxes would they fill by weight?"  And the related question:  "What is the average number of Cheerios that stick to Jelly Bean's butt every time I lift her out of the high chair?  How many days would it take to fill a whole box?"  These feel like the word problems we had in middle school math.  Maybe we are meant to homeschool the kids after all.