The Chicken Tree, The Perils of Blocking, and What Was In My Tire

Mom grew up on a farm.  A dairy farm to be exact.  She's the eighth child out of eleven, which is totally common for farm families of that era.  They used to have a lilac tree on the farm and the chickens used to roost in the branches.  They told their cousins, who were not farmers, that it was a chicken tree.  Mom loves lilacs and twenty or so years ago, we gave Mom a lilac tree.  It was planted in the backyard and since then, has grown crazy out of control.  But we still call it a chicken tree, because it's amusing, even though we have no chickens to roost in it.  Last week, from the morning until I got home, the lilacs decided it was time to come out.  I left for work and it was a mass of green.  I got home eight hours later and it looked like this:

Pretty amazing when you think about it.  Anyway, the chicken tree is in full bloom and everything smells wonderfully of lilac.  Unfortunately, we can't bring them in the house for the simple fact that Simon (that darn cat) has a penchant for chewing anything green.  I don't know what it is about that sort of stuff, but yeah, he'll chew it.  So the lilacs have to stay outside.

A lot of knitting patterns, when you've finished knitting them up, don't hold the shape that they are supposed to be.  A lot of stitches, when complete, have a tendency to curl up on themselves.  It's an easy enough fix; you just have to block the finished piece.  Except blocking is sort of a pain in the ass and I'm not a big fan of it, so I generally try to find and make patterns that don't require blocking when done.  There are some stitches that don't curl up and using them, even if its just on the border, usually eliminates the need for blocking.  Except the scarf I just finished last night?  Absolutely requires blocking.  And it's a scarf, so it's long and that requires space to block it out.  I don't have that kind of room.  Because you know how to block something?  You get it soaking wet (or steam the crap out of it, which is another method) and then you pin it out flat to the shape and dimensions you want, and then you have to let it dry completely!  Who's got that kind of room?!  Who's got that kind of time?!  Ah well.  It needs to be done.  I'm thinking towels on the floor with straight pins should do the trick.

No pics yet though because it's one of several things going on a trip and I know the recipient checks out the blog and I don't want that person to see it here before they see it in person.  After I know it's been received, then I'll post pics and details of the blocking debacle.

Last Thursday, I pulled out of the driveway and heard a weird whumpa whumpa as I drove.  Now, I'm a car girl and knew something funky was going on with my tire.  When I got out of work, I saw the tire was soft but it was okay to get me home.  Once I pulled in the driveway, I got out my little air compressor and started filling the tire, all pissed off that it was soft when I just had the fucker resealed a few months ago.  And as I'm standing there, fuming, I see the problem.  There's a piece of metal in the tread!  So I get the spare put on and Tuesday morning, I took it to the tire place to have the flat repaired.  The whole time I'm worrying that they won't be able to patch it and I'll have to buy new tires and I'm all cranky because the tread is still really good on my tires and I don't want to have to replace them.  They guy comes walking out, all serious, and internally I gulp because I'm sure that he's going to tell me it can't be fixed.  Instead, he opens his hand and gives me this:

So, yeah.  That's what was in my tire.  Not a small bit of metal, that.  And I'm still thinking that he's gonna tell me I need to buy new ones but thank the dear and fluffy lord, he says they are fixing the tire right then and twenty minutes later I was back on the road.  I've been keeping a close eye on said tire but it's fine.  Maybe a week from now, I'll be able to relax and not be so crazy about the dang tire.  I hope.