A New Day, a New Scarf
Our graphic design department has a weekly Breakfast Meeting, held on Friday mornings. We usually scarf up yummy doughnuts or somesuch item. Since I can't (won't) indulge, I thought my scarfing should be in the form of knitting another Fuzzy Keyhole Scarf. Fondle Fiber: Good. Fondle Doughnuts: Bad.

The knitting needles are my grandmother's, from the early '60s


Things I Want to Ask God When I Go to Heaven
Of course, my No. 1 Question is, and always will be, "Why do men have nipples?" After that, it's "Why do women's thighs rub together, despite repeated applications of diet and exercise?" I'm serious. The only time my thighs haven't rubbed together to some degree was during a brief period of anorexia at age 18 (it didn't last long; I quickly realized how stupid and time-consuming, not to mention unhealthy, anorexia is). I'm sure that God in his infinite wisdom has a perfectly good reason why he engineered women this way. It can't be strictly to drive us crazy. Yes, he has a sense of humor, but I don't believe it's a malicious one.

Perhaps there are practical reasons for this thigh swishage. Maybe it's a security measure of sorts for pregnant women, to prevent delivery until the appropriate time? Newspaper headline: "Scientists Discover Babies Kept in Place for 9 Months Due to Mother's Thigh Rubbage" Or, perhaps it's an early warning system to others of the human species. Your kids or coworkers, for instance: "Knock it off! I hear Mom coming down the hall!" (swish, swish) or "Shhh! Stop talking about Amy! I hear her coming!" (swish, swish)

Happy Friday, everyone.