My friend, Kate, who lives in Washington state for some parts of the year and down here in the desert for the other parts, sent me an email that said, "I've been hanging all week to hear the results of how-I-died-in-a-mason-jar. What happened?" [See the previous post called Dye Experiment]. Since I seem to have trouble lately posting to this blog, I thought that I might as well share my reply with you...
Now you've got me laughing. Died-in-a-mason-jar reminds me of the book I'm reading, Crazy in Alabama, where the heroine (?) is off on a cross-country crime spree, carrying her murdered husband's head in a tupperware container inside a hatbox (the patented tupperware press and seal keeps leftovers fresher and longer, but not forever, as some feisty chihuahuas just found out). The goings-on back in Alabama with the rest of her family are a bit more serious, just so you don't think I'm a completely frivolous reader.
Your title, "How-I-Died-in-a-Mason-Jar," would have been a far better one for the post, although I had considered calling it "I Dye Lots."
I've had a little trouble with that blog lately. Not for lack of things to write about, just partly lack of confidence that anyone cares now that we all do Pinterest, and partly lack of get-up-and-go, and partly lack of time due to that never-ending kitchen paint project; not to mention the time I spend reading crime books. The dye experiment was much more interesting as a process than anything that resulted from it. However, I will soldier on and reveal the less than exciting results. Soon.
I read your last email to the knitting ladies today. Not many were there, but all expressed a sense of loss at your empty seat. Page is packing to leave for Tacoma next Monday, so she is done with us. Joanne has been sick with a chest business, but will return soon. Marie is looking more beautiful than any 75-year-old has any business looking. Anita just had a stent put in, which we hope will stop her from fainting in the Walgreen's and scaring the staff and gives the rest of us reason to hope that she won't faint behind the wheel while driving in circles with her poor sense of direction, looking for the church so she can visit the knitting group, since the doctor didn't specifically tell her not to drive.
Our Hobby Lobby store was the scene of a box-cutter incident, where a man and a woman were stopped for shoplifting the other day. The woman disappeared inside McDonald's across the parking lot, the hobby staff gave chase and caught up to the man nearby, the man pulled a box cutter and slightly stabbed one of the HL employees, but the others jumped him and held him down until the police arrived. Anita wondered if they were stealing money or yarn (and why, I suppose, since there is so much of the latter). Page is pretty sure that Joanne was the mystery woman, out attending to her life of crime while pretending to be home sick. Joanne wonders why she would be accused of stealing yarn, given the contents of her guest room closet. Although none of the last three knitters were present, we surveyed their opinions by cell.
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