Today's Scorecard

The house won today. I should know by now that the house always wins but, you know, we've talked about that whole "knitters = optimist" thing. Why else would we stockpile enough yarn to knit a pullover for Sweden and mittens for everyone in the free world when we have exactly three minutes per week of uninterrupted knitting time? Optimism, I'm telling you.

But today was 7/7/07--supposedly the luckiest of all lucky days--and I thought that perhaps just this once.....well, no. The house won again. Here's how it breaks down:

Laundry: 6 piles, plus one of ironing. House (with the help of my guilt) score 1, Ms. Knitingale and her dreamed of knitting time, 0.

Car: Having been parked all week in the park-and-ride across from my work place, and said park-and-ride having been planted all around with nasty, evil trees that stalk around the parking lot all day throwing little dabs of sap at cars (okay, I have no photographic evidence of this event, but seeing as how the car felt like a car-shaped braille telephone book by the end of the week, I am considering this to be de facto evidence), car wins one hour of my time for washing, plus one more for forcing me to be out in plain sight in a pair of shorts and a bikini top. Score for the house(for I consider car washing to be a house chore) now standing at 3; Ms. Knitingale and her knitting time, still at 0. We won't speculate on how the neighbors tally up having to watch me wander around in the yard with blinding white thighs that vaguely resemble bubble wrap under great pressure.

Bushes: The bushes in the front garden having grown to giant, hulking behemoths that have been arm-wrestling one another for such trivialities as sunlight and water, they managed to win another two hours of my time with a power tool and a hastily muttered prayed--knowing, as I do, that power tools and I rarely come to any sort of good end. After all, they smell fear. This one was a nasty, toothed gadget that jittered and shuddered in a terrifying fashion while throwing limbs aside like so much green kleenex, and while I danced about in a most disturbing fashion, utterly convinced that I was seconds away from chopping off one of my own limbs. Or cutting through the power cord and giving myself that perm I could never get my mom to give me in high school--this one with the added benefit of a good scorching. In this case, the house scored another point (now at 4, if you're keeping track), and the bushes escaped with their lives, although they now look a lot like Edward Blenderhands might have had a go at them, and that slightly cool, bullying behemoth vibe has been replaced by a sort of pitiful, shredded green mound vibe. Ms. Knitingale's knitting time, still 0. I'm seeing a pattern here....and sadly, it is not a knitting pattern.

Lawn: In spite of many attempts to starve it, dehydrate it, stomp it to death, and otherwise force it into one-inch high brown submission (if I lived on your block, you'd have a fast track to "greenest lawn ever"), the lawn once more reached its little green arms skyward in order to force me behind the wheel of the Exxon Valdez of riding mowers in order to snick them right off. It also tossed up a few thousand dandelions, naturally enough, and some mole hills so big that I found a stranded hiker on one of them. Seriously, I keep expecting to go out there one morning and find a mole the size of a gorilla, stretched out reading my paper with his feet propped up on my porch and demanding a cup of coffee. Score for the house, 5; score for the Exxon Valdez 1 (it did, once more, force Mr. K to swear and tinker around with tools before sullenly agreeing to gulp and chug around the yard, threatening the whole time to hurl oil around, belch smoke, and then sit in the middle of the yard ignoring everyone. A bit like my Uncle Al at a family reunion, if it comes down to it...but that's another story.) Score for Ms. Knitingale and her craved knitting time...yeah. Another goose egg.

Cooking: Having been told by my doctor that I must eat a low fat diet for health reasons that I will share at some point (although I will share now the irony of being told that I will be required to eat a very limited diet for the rest of my life....but I must be sure to keep my weight up while eating foods that taste like cardboard, leaves, and the occasional dash of ick), and further having been told that a bag of peanut-butter m&ms and a slice of cinnamon bread do not actually have a place on that diet, I was forced to face all manner of HEALTHY stuff over a hot stove because God knows it wasn't hot enough up here in the Pacific Northwet with a huge fiery yellow ball in the sky and water masquerading as air. Since I was stuck in the kitchen, I think the point goes, once more, to the house---6 points now, while I and my knitting time are still at a resounding 0. (I'll admit very reluctantly that the lean pork gyros with fresh tsasiki sauce were really quite good...but I'll deny it if you tell anyone.)

TV: The TV in the living room has actually really outdone itself. I do not watch all that much television but I'm sure you'll understand when I say that I like to have it on while knitting, just so I can ignore something and be fairly certain that it wasn't worth watching anyway. Now, however, and out of a clear blue sky (with blazing hot ball), the TV is showing a black screen when set to cable...but with the menu for the cable on it. No picture or sound, but a tempting list of what I could be ignoring if the TV would let me. No clue as to what happened...but, since the hotness mentioned yesterday is still gathering for meetings in the upstairs bedroom where the other TV is.....yeah. House is up to 7 and it's a win with a total knock out, seeing as how sweaty yarn cannot truly be said to knit up well.

I was kind of hoping "lucky 7" would mean that I would have good luck as opposed to the house winning every hand....but there you go. It's that damned optimism again.