I fell off my bike yesterday while trying to explain to N that he needed to adjust the seat lower. I'm not accustomed to riding a 'girl's bike' (you know, with the funny frame that is supposed to be easier to get on and off of) so I have a tendency to swing my leg over the back over the bike...which is problematic when your feet don't quite reach the ground.
So I stacked it while trying to ride barefoot on the gravel driveway. I imagine it was hilarious to watch, but being the bad sport that I am, I went inside to go and wash the dirt and rocks out of my leg before going and doing something decidedly less dangerous, such as crochet.
However, I had also cut my thumb open (quite severely) with a very-sharp-knife, so there was some serious self-pity happening, as well as doubts about my ability to crochet without, I don't know, stabbing myself in the jejunum and then vomiting all over the bed or something.
Indeed, my inability to walk like a normal human being has left my dog trying to distance himself from me (if you could read his doggy thoughts, it would have been something along the lines of, "I'm not with her. I just happened to stop and stand here. With a lead. Yeah. Just walking. Alone."
In any event, today was relatively injury free.
I was in the mid-aisle daze I customarily find myself in when visiting the supermarket, trying desperately to ignore the Tom Jones playing over the speakers. It wasn't classy Tom Jones per 'what's new pussycat', but rather, croony, irritating, shut-the-fuck-up-before-I-forcibly-insert-this-toothbrush-in-my-eardrums Tom Jones. Followed by Tom Jones singing the theme from Thunderballs (the James Bond film) which I have since learned was not a mondegreen, but indeed, the actual factual lyrics to the song, and the title of a Bond film.
Clearly, the term 'thunderballs' meant something different then, to what it does now.
Because in my brain, I envisioned something akin to Sean Connery in Zardoz:
More so than Sean Connery in the actual thunderballs movie:
|linkies to picture|
And look, he even has one of those cute little old timey jetpacks! Cute, no?
In other completely unrelated news, and really, because I like long blog posts - this is as great as, if not greater than, the crochet Betty White doll pattern. Even with her sensible brown chinos and blue chambray shirt.
|from Sandra Eterovic's blog|