We Are Here! We Are Here!

Dear Mandella,

OK, OK, I know I've jumped the gun, but I just couldn't help myself. Like all those little Whos in Whoville, I want to shout at the top of my lungs that We Are Here!

Who'd have known that . . . was it just last year in January, or was it before that? Anyway, who'd have known that two such different gals would have so much in common. We're forty-ish, married, have pets instead of children, have aging parents, love to knit and love to eat (and have nearly the same fitting problems as a result).

Of course, there are differences. For instance, you "Hoover" when I "vacuum," you write "colour" when I write "color," you say "to-mah-to" and I say, "Not for me, thanks."

OK, and you ride a motorcycle whereas I terrorize morning traffic in my zippy red car.

But somehow we found each other and clicked, whether it was because of the knitting or the hysterectomies or the aging parents.

Day-um. Who knew?

Now, before I get too carried away, I want to make it clear that, although I suggested this format because I'm a devoted fan of the Mason Dixon Knitting gals, this is in no way meant to steal their thunder or to be snotty copycats. It's more of an homage. I really just thought we'd have an easier time sharing one blog than forever posting on each others' blogs. Besides, I always seem to start out my posts as a letter to you because I just can't imagine not telling you what's happening on my side of the pond.

(Prayer today: Thank you, God, for the Internet, which allows me to connect to my gal-pals without having to run up the equivalent of the National Debt in telephone bills.)

Well, I'd better get going. I have only about 30 minutes before it's bedtime. Tomorrow's a long day: I work both of my jobs, plus I have choir practice at church (which means I'll miss Project Runway again, but, I can catch it in reruns on the weekend).

Hugs and good knitting to you!

Judith

PS: I programmed the time to be GMT since that's about the only way to keep track of these things. I mean, what with Daylight Savings Time and the fact that it starts and ends of different days for each of us, how would we ever know what time it really is for either of us. Just remember that I'm always about 6 hours behind you (which explains why I'm always huffing and puffing as I try to catch up).