Not me, baby. I’d be more inclined toward a body cavity search by someone wearing barb-wire gloves. I hate football. There, I’ve said it…although, maybe I’ve said it before and have simply forgotten. Old people do that, you know. That’s the gospel according to His Awesomeness. Actually, I include baseball, basketball and golf in that ‘hate’ category, too. Hockey, I love. Then again, with the lockout and short season, the NHL is on my list as well.
The only highlight of Super Bowl Sunday: all those awesome commercials…and seven layer dip. If there’s a David Beckham commercial again this year and I miss it…now that’d be a catastrophe of epic proportions. I’m taking my chances, though. Instead, The Diva and I are watching ‘Home on the Range’ in my room away from the toxic fumes of all that testosterone. Somehow, Roseanne Barr as a cow doesn’t seem so far-fetched.
I haven’t had a quilting finish in about a month and a half. If this trend keeps up, I fear I may forget how to sew altogether. Instead, I finished up a cap for Molly, the world’s best-dressed-in-homemade-goodness American Girl doll. My Mama (Gramma) has whipped up quite a few outfits for Molly the clotheshorse, too.
I’ve discovered that I can’t read a crochet pattern worth a crap, so I’m making up my own rules as I go along, operating under the assumption that if the piece is holding together, it’s all good. Thank goodness I opted not to go to medical school. Can you imagine me as your surgeon?
If you’re so inclined, enjoy the game. If not, I hope you’re doing something crafty.