Monday mornings always get me down

Monday mornings are typically full of scrambling at Chez Ragged, but this morning both of us were up earlier than expected, so our routine did go a little more smoothly. Cynical was prepping for an interview today (fingers crossed) and I was simply ready to be up and moving, plus I wanted to be up to calm any nerves that might be frazzled.

Our weekend had gone by, yet again, much too quickly. Our all-to-short Friday evening was filled with letter and card writing, a little movie watching and some knitting; oh and the ordering of our new camera. . . due to arrive any day now. Our Saturday was full of meet-ups: family lunches and baby showers. We struggled for dinner ideas that evening and ended up each making due in our own way.

Sunday
Yesterday we ventured out for a walk since the temperatures had risen drastically. Along the way we solved all of the world's problems and managed to come up with a shopping list, both equally important.

We made a grocery run and visited the library. I despise grocery shopping, but much love our new library. While there I managed to put a hold on a few CDs and a copy of "Mansfield Park". Our library is very advanced technology and design-wise. Checking out, reserving items, and paying of (cough-cough) fines are simple and automated. That's when technology rocks: when it makes your life even easier.

In the afternoon I finished up laundry, ironed, quizzed Cynical for his interview and did some household chores, all while most of the rest of you were watching the Super Bowl. Being as we aren't a sports-oriented house, I was impressed that we even knew who was playing or that it was Super Bowl Sunday at all.

I cooked last night. Yes, miracles do happen. Don't get too excited, I just attempted a almond-dijon chicken thing from that free Kraft recipe magazine we keep getting. Easy, new take on the so-tired chicken and I did it all by myself. Oh, we had veggies and rice too. Who says I don't cook? Oh, I did, that's right.

Ironing
A note on ironing: I am a dry-cleaning addict. I have a lot of clothes that require special care and I leave that up to my friendly cleaners. However, due to a recent battle with said establishment over damaged clothes, a personal internal audit of the cost of drycleaning and a long hard look at the ecological ramifications, I am trying some alternative methods. That being said, I still hate ironing, although I think I might have a knack for it. Must be inherited as my great-grandmother "took in " ironing to make ends meet. Before you think me being too clothes conscious, realize that my job requirements mean that I must be pressed and ready to go. Alas, I often dream of wearing jeans and 15-year-old Gap flannel shirt every. single. day, but that's not reality for me.

I do, however, pride myself on the washing of my sweaters. I soaked and blocked a pocket-less "Wicked". Hopefully you'll get a glimpse of her soon. Making headway on the bulky cardigan, finished the body, ready to start on the arms and next come the button and button-hold bands. Let's hope blocking is as kind to her as it has been to Wicked.