The Cuckoo Bee

Perhaps this will make little sense.  I have not had lunch yet and can’t hear from my left ear, among other issues contributing to your inability to understand me.  I was discussing with you the other time, reader, the idea that we all possess the knowledge of eternal life, infinite joy, and whatever the other thing was–compassion.  No, knowledge, not that it matters, anyway we all have that but it is forgotten.  I was thinking, at the time, that this forgotten knowledge is somewhere in the recesses of our DNA and is a secret from ourselves that we have hidden.  However, I was just realizing that I think it is not at all a secret, but is so obvious to us that we have forgotten it because we are looking at it all the time–like our noses.  It’s just that we are alive.  We are all alive and so contain the divine spirit, so we are the best ones to know what it is like to be alive.  An inanimate object, if it wanted to have someone explain what all that is about, would ask us, because obviously we know.  However we are so used to knowing everything and are immersed in the knowledge since we are born, so we don’t care.  That’s all.  Time for lunch!

I have pneumonia so you’ll have to wait until I can muster the energy to force technical support to fix it up.  However, technical support in its unlimited beneficence has updated the gallery.  If its beneficence is unlimited (you ask) why not the toilet too.  Because that does not require beneficence.  Okay?

Today I made the below needle-felted carrot and cabbage for you.  Maybe that’s a lettuce.  The delivery truck is ready to go to the market and illustrates the confusing largeness of the carrot.  The largeness of the cabbage is not confusing.   The picture after this is of my younger son’s hand seizing the carrot and I was amazed that despite his holding one end in his teeth and yanking on the leaves the whole thing stayed together.  Needle felting.  Wow.  Fast. Easy.  Good for the teeth.

It has come to my attention that I have been neglecting you, reader.  Do not think it is because nothing has been happening or I have forgotten all about the fact that I have a blog.  Instead, think that it is because too much has been happening and I have been carefully formulating the order in which to report it all to you.  I have some other things for you to think too when you are done with that.  But in fact I have conjunctivitis.  I foolishly was excited about contracting the viral form of this condition from the children–actually I am only pretending that I thought it was foolish.  I did not have a lot of interesting ailments as a child, only scarlet fever, viral pneumonia, and anaphylactic shock, so I was always curious about those children at school with pink eye and warts and whatnot.  Recently I have had scabies, hand foot and mouth disease, and now pink eye, and I am happy to report that they are all kind of exciting to experience as an adult and provide a refreshing alternative to the common cold.   You may think I’m only lying as usual, but actually I am so riddled with viruses since having the kids that I enjoy the variety of these new strains.  On the other hand it is very painful dealing with the kids when they have any sickness.  Or are just insisting on eating popsicles for breakfast, or need their new Lightning McQueen toy at three-hour intervals throughout the night, or lock themselves in the bathroom with a box of magic markers.

As usual, I have not even begun on the matter that I wished to discuss today, which was how great it is to be in the matrix.  I like being one of a million souls or honeybees toiling purposefully away in a system that is infinite in time and maybe space.  I would write more about this but there are a couple readers who are harassing the hell out of me right now–do you know who you are? No, not you.  The other one.  Yes, you, it’s okay though, you can harass me if you want.  However, don’t expect me to divulge my secret musical thoughts on the honeybee thing or my personal friendship with the moon either.  I hope I have not said too much.  I probably have.

One last thing of crafting news is that I went to spread my conjunctivitis (before I realized I had it, so don’t spazz all over me) around Manhattan and ended up at Beads World in the garment district.  Then I went to three other bead stores, Fun 2 Bead and two others that I didn’t bother to look at the name of, and they were all identical.  I got some wooden beads to use as feet for a donkey.  Again I fear I have said too much!  By the way the store, MY cuckoo bee store, should be open at the end of the weekend.  On tap for your pleasure:  the amigurumi toilet, pattern $4.99.  The last time I checked, technical support described itself as “super-fussing” so the store may not be up by Sunday night, but I will use all my powers of anti-super-fussing persuasion to get the job done.

o beautiful toilet friend!

COMING SOON TO THE STORE!! THE AMIGURUMI TOILET!! CROCHET PATTERN!! OR IS IT THE AMIGUMURI TOILET, I SHOULD PROBABLY STRAIGHTEN THAT OUT!! YARN!! TOILET!!! PATTERN!!! TINY!!! DELECTATION!!! GET OUR YOUR CREDIT CARDS!!! PAYPAL ACCEPTED!!! SOMEONE GET ME A TOM COLLINS!!

Hopefully you can enlighten me, reader, but first I have to mention that my 7th grade English teacher told us that we should not use “hopefully” as I just did because I, the subject, am hopeful, not you, the one doing the verb.  Her example was that when we say “hopefully it will snow tomorrow” we were committing a diction error because each flake of snow was not hopeful.  Then I remember my Pre-Calculus teacher saying that exact phrase.

So I was telling my son the story of Noah’s Ark this morning as we walked to school in the rain for the 40th consecutive day, not including weekends when it also rained.  He had some questions, and then I had more questions, none of which I thought of before.  As follows:

1.  What happened to all the little children in the world?  Did they drown?

2.  What about the fish?  They were allowed to stay around in unlimited numbers, but land animals were not.  That hardly seems fair.  Except to freshwater fish, who I guess got flooded with sea water–but then was it raining salt water?  Maybe it was the saltwater creatures who got screwed, unless Noah had an aquarium.

My younger son is sinking his teeth into my forearm at this exact moment.  He is also covered in egg yolks.  Goodbye, reader, I suppose the questions are irrelevant anyway.

I certainly do love kitties.  And now in the unuseless department, I present the phone cosy.

It is lined, stuffed, and about the size of a toaster.  And here it is in action:

Also a knitted and felted bowl.

Giant splashing noises are coming from the bathroom.  I was going to tell you about how I am in the matrix, but forget it.

It may appear that the Panda does nothing but mope around all day in dirty, graffiti-covered alleyways.

However, the Panda’s arms, legs, and head move, so it can (in its own estimation) dance,

create its own graffiti,

and run from the cops as necessary.  The Panda thinks it is pretty bad.

Yes it’s wearing my earrings.  And?

This afternoon my son called me into his bedroom, where he was standing halfway in the closet.

“What kind of candy is this?” he asked, holding out an eraser.

“Are you kidding?” I said. “That’s an eraser.”

“No it’s not,” he said.  I tasted it.  It was an eraser, and it didn’t even smell like sugar or whatever, and didn’t look like a muffin or popsicle, it was just a plain white rectangular eraser that someone had eaten half of.

“Did you really eat this?” I asked.

“No,” he said sadly, going into the closet.  The End.

Crafting business:  I have discovered fraycheck, mod podge, and paperclay.  I cannot complete the mopey tattooed panda because she is depressing.  I am thinking about making her less mopey.  The grocery truck is coming along after several attempts at selecting fabrics and scaling the size of the cab.  Meanwhile, older boy has promised to tear the wheels off the truck as soon as it is done. Sigh.  Hairy cat is fine.  I have begun making patterns for a square-bottomed hobo bag.  I have begun prototypes for a pear and strawberry pincushion and am contemplating egg, apple, and grenade patterns.  The first pattern for the store, gallery, and about buttons for the website are about done and should be completed next week.  Does that quench your thirst for crafting, reader, or do I really have to post pictures of the miscellaneous pieces?

Other business:  One of my main memories from earlier life is this:

You see I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name/Sunshine, go all the way today/We may never pass this way again/Come on people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another right now! Freedom rock has it all man! Four LPs or three cassettes for only nineteen ninety-nine!

Well.  I used to watch a lot of tv and it was mostly really bad.  The only kid’s show we had during the day was called “Kids’ Break” and that was terrible.  It was on at 2:30 and it involved a yellow shaggy puppet.  I guess it was for preschoolers but I would watch it in disgust anyway when I was at home sick from school.  During cartoons after school in the DC area we had Captain Twenty, who was some lame guy with a moustache dressed in tights and a cape.  I thought he was lame because he kept telling us lessons like not to suck too loudly through a straw.  Even at eight years old I was like Aren’t there other problems in the world?  And even at age eight I felt sorry for him.  I also felt sorry for Captain Kangaroo at age three.  Gosh all the things I used to watch! Shall I list them all?  Let me just note that in high school the only thing on was reruns of MASH, Empty Nest, and Who’s the Boss.  Why?  Who knows?  That’s what I watched.  How depressing.  On a positive note, I now can and do watch kids’ tv shows that are of outstanding quality 24 hours a day on a variety of cable tv stations.  Geez reader, I had no intention of delving into this so exhaustingly.  I just wanted to go on and on about Freedom Rock and those two hippy dudes but apparently I tapped into a deep source of feeling.  Most of my emotional education did come from Who’s the Boss after all.  Pictures coming soon.