Wait, wait . . . don't tell me!

I tend to be a bit of a contrarian when it comes to technology. I just don't want to be THAT connected via social network sites, Twitter, TiVo, On Demand, you name it. I like blogging because it's chatty and undemanding. But then I miss things I really enjoy and start to feel out of step with my culture. What to do?

Some of my favorite radio programs come on when I'm too busy enjoy them: Car Talk and Wait Wait Don't Tell Me! on Saturday mornings, Fresh Air and All Things Considered during crunch time with the kids, Thistle and Shamrock on Sunday evenings. Just as I never schedule an appointment for a haircut (walk right in to Azima and they always take care of me), entertainment has to be spontaneous. Regularly scheduled programs demand attention when they're on and I just don't live that way.

Then I discovered I can listen to previous broadcasts of my favorite programs on the computer. While I'm cooking dinner or doing the laundry! And that I can download them FOR FREE as podcasts!

Yeah, I'm slow about some things.

I took Scooter the Wonder Dog for a wonderful, hour-long walk yesterday morning with gray clouds overhead and cool, humid air whirling around. First I caught up with last week's Wait Wait. Roy Blount, Jr. mused about his ability to look and sound a lot dumber than necessary ("it just comes natural") and I learned a lot more about Skull and Bones' nicknames than I really want to remember (I'll never think about President Bush-the-elder the same way again).

Before I knew it, I was several miles from home and thoroughly enjoying myself. When the podcast ended, I dialed up the latest edition from Knit Picks and discovered a few things about iCord I didn't know (it makes a great edge treatment and adds definition to stockinette).

Entertainment when I'm ready for it. How about that?

I can't believe I waited so long to get an iPod.

Freshly ironed clothes.

When the kids were little, I painstakingly ironed EVERYTHING. I ironed tshirts, blankies, and table napkins as well as little john-johns and jeans. I like ironed clothes. Tshirts just look crisper, jeans less disgruntled, and tablecloths ready for action.

Then they got older, I started working more hours, and their clothes were less cute. Hey - jeans and a graphic tee are supposed to look distressed. I decided I hated ironing, as much as I loathe emptying the dishwasher.

My mom's recent visit brought home just how much I've missed the soothing routine and time-liness of ironing. She washed and ironed loads of clothes and the kids both noticed how much nicer their things looked.

So I'm ironing again. And it feels really good. Just like knitting, ironing is meditative for me. The added attraction is my handy-dandy iPod, recently bestowed by the family for my birthday. Peacock blue and loaded with my favorite bits of musical prose, it's the perfect companion to the back-and-forth, tug, move, align, and smooth motions of ironing.

Remnants of a busy week

Guess what.

The tone of voice I use when my kids are on "my last nerve" should NOT be the same tone I use at any time, for any reason, with my mom. Got my ears figuratively pulled with that one.

If you walk to Wal-Mart from Dunwoody Village, you may think you're somewhat anonymous, but at least three friends will have driven past that day and will comment with some amazement that you're WALKING ON ASHFORD-DUNWOODY ROAD.

In order to tour a prospective apartment, you have to turn over your driver's license. This is purportedly to keep undesirables out of a gated community, but it's really to log in you into some master database. My mom is now on someone's "hit list" after one tour.

Guys in kilts are really, really attractive, knobby knees and wrinkles notwithstanding.

The Chicken Whisperer is coming to Dunwoody Nature Center. How cool is that?

The Amtrak Crescent that travels from New York to Atlanta is putrid beyond measure. The bathrooms are awash in human waste, the seats are stained, the train makes "smoking stops" for its addicted passengers, and the staff is AWOL most of the night. Good luck with that as alternative transportation.

On the other hand, the Acela Express from New York to Baltimore is timely, speedy, fairly clean, and well run. Same company. Way different scenario.

Just because a knitting pattern says you need just five skeins, go ahead and buy the 6th. I need the 6th. And don't have it.

The same kid who, just a month before couldn't keep a thought in his head can overnight turn into someone with initiative and self-reliance. Joy.

The Georgia State Legislature is paving the way for local school systems to create four-day school weeks by lengthening the school day (hours of learning, not weeks). On one hand, that means an even more brutal homework load for high school students. On the other hand, three-day weekends!

I pooh-poohed the iPod as yet another unnecessary bit of indulgence, but my kids got one and now I want one, too. I want to hear Norah Jones, Patsy Cline, Nat King Cole, favorite big-hair-and-shoulder-pads 80's tunes, bits from Fiddler on the Roof and Grease and O Brother Where Art Thou?, toss in Rhapsody in Blue and the Brandenburg Concertos, and maybe a few Shaker melodies. I'm nothing if not eclectic, and there isn't a radio station out there that hits all the right notes for me. So why not?

To get one simple hand x-ray to establish bone age for the endocrinologist, we have to admit our son into Children's Healthcare/Scottish Rite outpatient clinic (a one-hour plus process), head to x-ray, get triaged behind patients who really do need to go first, finally get the x-ray, then get "released." I asked why, last time. "The insurance company requires it, and we have liability issues." Yet another reason healthcare costs are way higher than they need to be.

Food smells and tastes really good when someone else makes it.

Continental knitting is wicked fast. I can't believe I haven't used the technique before. I knitted two scarves with the working yarn twined through my left hand and churned out the rows. However, it's a much looser knit, so I can't switch techniques in the same sweater. The Piedmont Park Hoodie will have to creep along at throwing pace. But I'm lovin' the design. The back is lovely and I've cast on the two front sections (to be knit at the same time).

The new "Welcome to Dunwoody" sign expresses our Williamsburg personna. Tidily nostalgic, clean and simple, it's a good fit.