On the way home each night I travel for about 12 mines up a busy, 5-lane street with a speed limit of around 40 MPH (more or less, depending on the section of road). Last night, about 3 miles into the trip, I pulled up to a stop light and noticed that the right front tire of the car beside me in the left lane was flat as a pancake. And I mean flat — not low, or going down, but flat.

I saw through the passenger’s partially open window that the couple in the car appeared quite young. So, reasoning that they might not have experience with flat tires and being the helpful person that I am, I rolled down my window and called over to them in a friendly manner, “Hey! It looks like your tire is really flat!”

The driver answered, “Yes, we’re going there right now!” And the passenger quickly rolled up his window.

“OK.” I thought. The reaction was a little strange. I’m really not at all scary. But, maybe several other people have mentioned it to them already.

On the remaining 8 or nine miles of road that I usually travel, there are numerous service stations and tire places. The car with the flat stopped at none of them. It continued blithely on in the left lane. I swear the rim had to be on the pavement and I don’t know why the tire wasn’t in shreds. I watched in fascination all the way down the road, at speeds of up to 45 MPH. When I finally turned off toward home, the car with the flat was still going, and heading out into country where there isn’t a service station for miles. I really wondered where they were going “right now,” and I was tempted to follow them. But home beckoned.

I really wish #1 Son had been in the car so I could have taken the opportunity to discuss what to do when you have a flat tire and explain that my preferred reaction was to pull over as soon as it was safe and put the spare on. Or, drive very slowly to the nearest service station, if that wasn’t too far. Or, call AAA (yes, I’m still a member).

#1 Son, if you are reading this, please, please, please don’t ever drive at 45 MPH for 10 miles on a flat tire. Please.

Thanks.

Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger. The Enforcer. Panzerkardinal. God’s Rottweiler. Head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (formerly known as “The Inquisition”). Dean of the College Of Cardinals.

Forevermore to be known as Benedict, the sixteenth of that name, he calls himself a “simple, humble worker in the vineyard of the Lord.”

Apparently Cardinal Ratzinger was chosen as a “transitional” pontiff. At 78, he can’t be expected to enjoy as long a reign as John Paul II. But transitional Popes can do unexpected things — John XXIII called the Second Vatican Council and turned the Church upside down. So one never knows.

I’m still laughing at the media, who seem to think that the whole “elect a new Pope” scene can be covered rather like a presidential election with no thought to solemn, religious and secret rite that it is. The reporters that I heard on the radio this morning were obviously dying that they wouldn’t know who had been elected any earlier than the mass of humanity gathered in St. Peter’s Square. They speculated ad nauseum that it probably would not be Ratzinger. I wonder if they have good recipes for crow?

And now they’ll have to find a new topic to entertain us with.

(The subject is not a typo. It means “they have a Pope”. I’m not Catholic.)

Here’s a pic of the Wildfoote socks as of last night. You can just see the second sock to the left of the picture. I had completed the heel flap and gusset decreases and worked up the ankle about 1 inch.

Today I finished about another 6 rounds on both socks, so the ankles are 1/2″ longer or so than in the picture.

It seems to be taking forever to finish these. But I keep reminding myself that when I’m done, I’m done, with no second sock still to do!

It’s hard to tell from this picture, but the heel is worked in Eye of Partridge from about 6 rows before the turn through the actual turn, and then the heel flap is worked in heel stitch. The instep and ankle are in blueberry waffle stitch (2 rows of 2×2 ribbing followed by two rows of stockinette, repeat endlessly). Those are 24″ #1 Addi turbo needles (what Addi calls #1, which is 2.5mm and thus slightly larger than a standard US #1). The yarn is Wildfoote in the Brown Sugar colorway.

And when these are done, the next project is a pair of socks for #1 Son.

The only news from the Vatican came in the form of black smoke.

I bet the media are gnashing their collective teeth over their inability to scoop one another or to know what’s going on inside that conclave. 😆

Personally, I’m glad to know there’s still one place left on earth that is out of bounds for the paparazzi.

I can feel it in the air…

I did laundry last night, and all of the socks matched up with no effort. Hangers were there waiting for everything that needed to be hung up, and I didn’t have to hunt for the one missing hanger that migrated to a different closet.

Granted, I was doing laundry at oh-dark-30. But that means that it was officially Monday, and traditionally things do not go well on Monday.

There’s something wrong, I tell you…

Oh yes it is.

And no, I’m not going to explain that. But hopefully you can hear the sarcasm dripping from my voice.