Monday mishmash

Remember last week when we were talking about habits and excellence and housework and meal plans? [Thanks for your comments – nice to know I wasn't the only one who grew up having meat loaf on Wednesday and fried chicken every Sunday.] My Google home page has a sense of humor; this was yesterday's Quote of the Day:

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Another year of Oscars has come and gone; this is the first year in a long time I've actually seen any of the nominated films. Of course I wanted the ones I'd seen to win; alas, the only cheering from the Middle of Nowhere was for Diablo Cody, who took the award for best screenwriting [Juno].

It's not a whole heck of a lot of fun watching the Academy Awards with Mr. Shrinking Knitter. I'd much prefer to be my daughter's sous chef, helping her prepare party food for two days prior to the big night and then keeping the platters full during the telecast while she and her girlfriends dish about the designer dresses. She didn't keep the tradition going when she changed states a few years ago; I forgot to even ask if she decided to have a party this year. [Did you?]

Mr. Shrinking Knitter thinks the whole 'who are you wearing' and 'doesn't she look divine' patter is "silly." He "doesn't get it." But since he'd seen the same nominated films I had, he was at least mildly interested, and we now want to see Michael Clayton [currently on Pay-Per-View, how handy is that?] and No Country for Old Men.

Oh, and my favorite dress was definitely Cameron Diaz's. With Helen Mirren a close second. And I hope Ellen Page keeps making movies for the rest of my life.

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Since this blog is the Shrinking Knitter, how about some knitting content? The three Big Bad Baby Blankets for the triplets are finished – washed, dried, all the ends have been woven in and clipped off.

I only wish I'd made them a teensy bit larger. They're 28 inches square, which is the size the pattern said to make them, but they look just about big enough to cover a car seat on a chilly morning; nothing more. For future reference, if you're going to make a baby blanket it ought to be at least three feet square. In my not-so-humble opinion.

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In addition to a Tiny Kroger, we also have a Tiny Hospital here in the Middle of Nowhere, which is where Mr. Shrinking Knitter's mother has spent the past week. [Tiny Hospital has 30 patient beds, maybe, and if you're a child or pregnant you have to go somewhere else.] ] Yesterday she was transferred to Larger Hospital [but still relatively small] in a nearby town, one with a pulmonary specialist who, we hope, will be able to knock this respiratory infection or bronchitis or whatever she has for a loop. Hospitals really are no place for sick people; she's been declining rather than improving all week.

Since Larger Hospital is about an hour away [as is everything here in the Middle of Nowhere], I probably won't be writing much for the next couple [we hope] of days. I'm taking advantage of this early-morning window of opportunity to fill up your Google Reader and I hope my stats won't fall too far if I miss a day or two.