Wonder Twin powers, activate!

When Gator and I engaged, we found rings we loved in a catalog, but we couldn't afford them. We were poor college students, and the "three months salary" rule would have allotted about as much money for a ring as a thorough searching of the couch cushions. Gator's parents lived in Chicago at the time, and they knew of a Russian jeweler who could make any ring from a picture at a reasonable price. So they asked us for the page from the catalog. Right before our wedding they presented us with our wedding gift -- gold rings exactly like we wanted. Here's mine:


Gator's ring got too small (love how we blame the ring!!) so he didn't wear it and then eventually got lost. He bought a random clearance ring once, but it never fit right and was too delicate for his hand and was, though he disagrees with this point, freakin' ugly.

So years have gone by and Gator hasn't worn a wedding ring. It's no big deal -- I'm not one of those who freaks out over it and assumes he's out there outrageously cheating on me because he doesn't have a piece of metal wrapped around his finger. It's fine. Whatever.

But I do really miss having matching wedding bands. It just seems so right.

One day a couple of weeks ago I was happily partaking of my daily phone call to Gator. I was surprised when he announced, "Oh, my ring came today!"

"Ring? What ring?"

"Oh, I ordered a new wedding ring."

"Another wedding ring?"

"Yeah, it's really cool. It's titanium!"

"Really? What does it look like?"

"You can see it, I got it off Amazon. Just search 'titanium ring'..."


Anyone who followed the above link now realizes: The ring is $21.95. $22!!! Plus shipping. Whatever.

Do you know what this meant to me?? It meant that, considering that the smallest size available is the size of my left ring finger, we could once again have matching wedding bands! So I suggested the idea.

"But what about your claddagh ring?"

"Well, I'm not going to throw it away or anything. It will have a place of honor in my jewelry box, and I'm sure I'll wear it sometimes."

Somewhere along the line he started to believe that I really wanted matching rings and that I really liked the ring he'd picked out. And for $22, they can get lost or get all banged up or get too small, and we'll just get another one.

So he ordered me a matching wedding band and it came about four days later.


I've worn it ever since. I love it.

We're Wonder Twins again. My hubby rocks. :)

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Weekend of sloth

Wow, I didn't do much of anything productive this weekend. No grading, no studying, no reading. I meant to, I even made plans, set things out, and got all settled to work. But I was tired. So I took a nap first. Then I was hungry. So I cooked and ate. But that made a mess. So I cleaned. Then I was tired again.

It was tragic.

It was also very restful and I think I needed that kind of recharging. But I should have just said, "I'm not doing anything this weekend and I refuse to feel guilty about it." Instead, I did nothing this weekend but spent the whole time feeling like I should be doing something, and, so... the Guilt.

I'm pretty much over it, though. :)

I did make a little progress on the Star Potholder:


Now you can see a little better what it's going to look like when it's done. It's mate will be the opposite color way. I think they will be spiffy. I've missed making thread potholders. They're really quite fun.

Now I'm off for another rousing week of making up for my weekend sloth. Weee!!

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Oh look, a Saturday Sky, knitting, and everything!

It's a gray, hazy, autumn day in Beer Town. I rather like it, actually.


I had two horrible exams this week, a lab meeting presentation, and tons of research both in the lab and for future papers and presentations. In short, busy. I think maybe I've caught up on some sleep and no longer feel like an overwhelmed mess. The second test this week went well, I think, but the first one did not. In fact, I may have failed it. Straight up. Not that, "oh, that test went so badly and I'm sure I failed" and then it turns out I got a high B kind of thing. More like, "I left about half the answers blank because I didn't even have a bullshit answer for them and then I ran out of time" kind of thing. Pretty brutal. I could go on and on about why this happened, but I'm not going to because a) I don't want to think about it anymore, b) it won't help anything, and c) you don't really care. At least I wouldn't if I were you. So, onward and upward to handwork content instead!

Gator's best friend's baby came last month (welcome baby Owen!!), which meant that I had to get off my lazy butt and finally put the zipper in the zodiac and get it sent off. I had thought I would embroider a design on the body, but I finally decided against it altogether and went with simplicity. Plus, the buttons are pretty cute and add just a sweet touch of interest. I think it's perfectly fine just as it is.


The baby socks I made this summer were also intended for baby Owen, and I think together they make a nice little baby gift:


I've also started a new project -- a wedding gift for best friend Missa's sister, whom I call "sister" too. The wedding was actually last week, but I get a year to present them with a gift, right? So I figure I'm okay. I'm making them a set of the Round Star Flower Potholder, like the one I made for Gator last year (yes, I made my husband a potholder, and he loves it. What of it?) but in blue and yellow. I got a good start on it during a mini S n' B at Veronica's on Thursday night.


I have a lot of work to do this weekend, but I'm going to take a little time to crochet, too. I just feel better when I get some handwork time in. Otherwise I'm not sure what the weekend will bring, but I'll let you know if it's anything cool!

Have an awesome weekend. :)

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Local color

There is a man, homeless I think, that walks through the Marquette campus nearly every day. I don't know anything about him; I wouldn't even know him if he walked right up to me. But he has a very identifying quality -- he whistles. It's never a recognizable song, just tuneless intervals. Now, many people whistle, but Mr. Whistle (as we call him) is different. He whistles loudly. Think you know what I mean? Try this: I live on the fourteenth floor of my building. When I am in my apartment, with all the windows closed, A/C or heater running, listening to the news on the radio, I can hear him. From three blocks down the street. That is some loud whistling.

Rock on with your bad self, Mr. Whistle.

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