The First 40

Amanda inspired me.  So here it is, my List of Entirely Plausible Things I Would Like To Do Before I Die.  This is hardly a complete list.  Pretty much every single day I turn on the tv or read the newspaper or talk to someone and suddenly there are 18 new things I want to do.  I better get crackin'.  

1.)  Play the organ at Dodger Stadium

2.)  Paint a mural 

3.)  Learn how to double-dutch

4.)  Own a Slurpee machine

5.)  Host a really fancy dinner party with name cards

6.)  Fly a plane

7.)  Go to space camp

8.)  Get published

9.)  Learn how to arrange flowers

10.)  Learn how to bake really great bread

11.)  Meet the Queen

12.)  Attend a Passover Seder

13.)  Learn how to cut hair

14.)  Go ice skating on a frozen pond 

14a.)  Learn how to ice skate

15.)  Perfect my Scottish accent

16.)  Understand the mysteries of the game of cricket

17.)  Win at Monopoly

18.)  Make a perfect pie crust (taste and looks)

19.)  Ride a motorcycle

20.)  Be a waitress at a teeny little diner and call everyone sugar or honey

21.)  Have my own boysenberry bush

22.)  Do a handstand

23.)  Knit a sweater

24.)  Memorize a piece of music on the piano

25.)  Play a round of golf and get to drive the golf cart

26.) Go to a Big Hat Event and wear one (Kentucky Derby, ribbon cutting, British wedding, Baptist church on Easter Sunday, etc.)

27.)  Build a really awesome sand castle

28.)  Learn how to play an instrument that is portable, preferably the concertina.

29.)  Poach an egg

30.)  Fly off of an aircraft carrier in a fighter jet

31.)  Go on the Sound of Music Tour in Austria

32.)  Learn how to yodel

33.)  Go to one of those giant flower markets in Amsterdam

34.)  Soak in a thermal pool in Iceland

35.)  Go to a cherry blossom festival in Japan

36.)  Make it past chapter 7 of Wuthering Heights

37.)  Learn all the capitals in the world

38.)  Sing with a live band

39.)  Eat really good barbecue in Kansas City

40.)  Attend all 4 tennis grand slams

Neverland House

Dear Wealthy Benefactor,

Me again.  Sorry to bother you, I know you're busy making lots of money, but I have a small request.  It's just slightly bigger than a drum set.  It's this.

Okay, so it's a house.  But not just any house.  It's J.M. Barrie's old house.  And I really want it.  Because look at this adorable staircase.  And this communal garden I would get to share with my neighbors.  And this wee little room!  Can't you picture me in this room, wearing elegant-leisure-wear, drinking cocoa and writing funny blog posts while turning into the Eccentric Old Woman I was destined to be?  I sure can.

This takes precedence over the drum set because I don't want anyone else to snatch it up.  And I would like to be out there before Wimbledon starts.  Plus, I want to get a jump on changing the paint.  Is it just me or does that adorable staircase look like it's working the faux marble paint job?

Hugs and Kisses,

Rachel =)

Born to Rock!

Dear Wealthy Benefactor,

If you were wondering what you could get me for Rachel Appreciation Day might I suggest a drum set.  Why?  Because I'm pretty sure I was born to rock.  I played Rock Band at our family party this afternoon and I totally killed it on the drums.  My cousin Allie and I are going to start up a band and I don't think that the Rock Band drum set is going to work for gigs so I'm going to need the real thing.  I'm not picky but I would like it to be purple, and sparkly if you have the option.

Hugs and Kisses,

Rachel =)

Like an orange on a toothpick.

You've been so patient.  Really.  And you're all winners in my book.  Except that there can only be two actual winners.  Don't feel bad.  I still love you.

The My Head Is So Big It Has Thrown My Spine Out of Alignment Award goes to:  Jason Riley, or, as Amy likes to call him in blog comments, "My Husband."  Like she's one of Those Girls. =)

The My Head is So Small That My Kids' Hats Are Too Big for It Award goes to:  Heather Livingston.

I find it very interesting that both people live here in the Hub with me.  I wonder if Flo would let us have a Las Brisas Head-Measuring-a-Palooza.

I'm giving Honorable Mention to Andrea for being the only one to send me a picture.  She was so dedicated to this competition that she took it with her camera phone and used her tool box measuring tape to do it.  Kudos to you.

To see where you fit in with the rest of the participants, have a look:

Jason  25 inches

Gina - 24.5 (Founding Member of the Two Foot Club)

Angela - 23.5

Mom - 23.5

Amanda - 23

Chris - 23 (I'm pretty sure marrying into the family made it bigger)

Karina - 23 (proving that it's not just the Knecht side of my family with large heads)

Lisa - 23

Jennette - 22.5

Jessica Gold Brown - 22.5

Sara - 22.5

Laura - 22.25

Andrea - 21.5

Liz L. - 21.5

Courtney - 21.25

Rac - 21.25

Heather L. - 20

Thanks to everyone who joined in the fun.  You'll be blessed.  I'm not sure how.  Maybe someday you'll find the Perfect Hat.  You may be surprised to know that my Perfect Hat would have to include a stuffed bird on it.  

These cats won't eat my face. Maybe.

I'm house sitting again.  This time for two cats - one who adores me.  He may adore me because he use to be allowed to roam free in the great outdoors of Yorba Linda and now, because he got into one too many rumbles with other kitty thugs, he's an indoor cat and I'm the only company he has.  So he likes to wrap himself around my ankle and knead my feet.  He also sings to me all day long.  And by singing, what I mean is that he yowls like he's in heat and I'm pretty sure he's trying to woo me.  He'd be more successful with peanut M&Ms.

This is quite a change from other cats I have watched.  Mostly because those cats are trying to take over the world and when I'm there I'm the only thing standing in their way.  The first night I ever stayed with them I caught one in the act of disconnecting the phone.  They like to hang out in the office and I'm pretty sure they know how to get online and have downloaded plans to assemble a nuclear weapon out of catnip and rubber bands.  True story:  one dark and stormy Halloween night the power went out and I was sure that the cats had something to do with it in order to eat my face under a cloak of darkness.  We have since become friends.  If the definition of friends is that they can stand to be in the same room with me for more than 30 seconds.

On a moderately related note, because I'm house sitting I'm using the computer here and it's a Mac and I'm a PC girl.  (Side Note:  I have a theory about Mac People and PC People.  I'll share it with you someday.  Hold your breath.)  I haven't quite figured out the whole Mac thing yet.  This doesn't affect you except that I had a ton of pictures I wanted to share.  Pictures of the New Nephew and the Old Nephew (looking more and more like Winston Churchill every single day).  Pictures of all the head measuring that went on over the weekend (results of the head measuring competition are forthcoming).  And pictures of Brett's party celebrating Norway's Constitution Day, wherein we sang the Norwegian national anthem, gave Norwegian toasts, ate yummy Norwegian food, and then capped the night off with tossing a boot in the Wal-green's parking lot.  Nothing says "freedom from the Swedes" more than tossing a boot.

I've lost it

Well, I've lost it. It's been a pretty good run, but I've officially turned into the Least Funny Person on the Planet. All week long I've been trying to think of anything clever or funny to write about and I've got nothing. I knew I would lose it eventually and now I'm going to have to move into a home for people who don't get the joke - where the only thing on TV is Jay Leno and Everybody Loves Raymond.

To prove that I've lost it here's a list of things I've considered writing about:

1.) The show I watched last night on PBS about people dying on Mt. Everest
2.) The blouse I'm attempting to sew and the fact that I don't actually know how to sew clothes
3.) Sandwiches and how much I love them
4.) How driving over the Grapevine made the inside of my head explode which made me want to die some slow and horrible way because it would be less painful.

See, more boring than cardboard. Admit it, you've already moved onto more exciting things like trimming your toenails or calling your accountant.

I'm sorry. Come back in a week. Maybe it's just a phase.

Nephew-palooza!

The Nephew Count has just doubled in the Knecht Fam. Check it out. I've been watching Ben this afternoon and have informed him that he's going to have to share the title of Blessed Nephew with Thomas. He basically just nodded his enormous head and babbled a bit. I'm pretty sure he's fine with still being the heir apparent for the family silver.

Before putting him down for his nap we were in my room and he was fascinated by my Elvis swivel hip clock (well, who wouldn't be). He kept pointing to it so I told him it was Elvis and then I kept repeating his name. "Elvis. Elvis." And then Ben said, "Eboo," which I'm taking as a sure sign that the indoctrination is working. Long live the king.

Open Letter to Me

Dear Rachel,

You are an 80 year old woman and because dementia has set in I would like to remind you that 80 year olds do not stay out until 1:30 in the morning gabbing with the ladies. You were cut out for that sort of thing way back when you were 25 but now that you're in the sunset of your life you should be making wiser choices. Choices that would allow you to get 7 hours of sleep. Choices that don't give you puffy eyes and an even manlier morning-man-voice. Especially now when you know you always automatically wake up at 7. On the dot. Every morning. No alarm needed. No matter how little sleep you have gotten. It stinks being 80.

Love, Rachel

P.S. You're hair looks surprising good today. Did you switch shampoos?
P.S. 2 You should have oatmeal for breakfast. Trust me.
P.S. 3 I actually think it may have been a little worth it to stay up late, only because 1.) you got to watch North and South and 2.) you got to hear someone coin the term, "cesspool loins" which you would not have heard had you left at midnight.

Fat-head

Great news...I am no longer dead. Let's have some fun.

Anyone who has been over to my house for laughs and hi-jinx knows that eventually at some point in the night, usually the point that is a few hours past my bedtime, I pull out the measuring tape and start measuring heads. It is darn funny. I do this because it's sort of a tradition in my family. The Knechts have enormous heads. In fact, I'm the shame of my family because I only come in at 22 inches, which, I would like to point out, is still too big to find hats that fit.

Because I'm in the mood for a good chuckle I've decided to hold a contest and all are invited to participate. Everyone grab a measuring tape and measure your head and then leave a comment with your size in inches. The people with the smallest and largest head will receive a prize of something funny made out of felt (just what you've always wanted) as well as our esteem and awe. Also, if you make it over 24 inches you get automatic membership into the Two-Foot Club. If I were a member I would make membership cards for you but I'm a little bitter so make your own.

Oh, and for a real laugh, why don't you send me a picture of you measuring your head at rachelknecht at gmail dot com. I'll post them when I announce the winners. Come on, it will be fun!

Epitaph

Here lies Rachel

Killed by a head cold

R.I.P.

Scurvy may cause uncontrollable swearing

I think I may be coming down with a wee bit of the scurvy (argh!) because what I've been craving more than anything is citrus fruit. And mostly grapefruit. This is unusual because up until yesterday I was pretty sure I didn't like grapefruit. But a craving is a craving and I ate the one that was sitting on my kitchen counter for 2 days (which I bought when the craving began and I happened to be at Sprouts and grapefruit was on sale.) and friends, it was delicious. Why haven't any of you told me that grapefruits are yummy?

Scurvy naturally makes me think of the sea, which naturally makes me think of the show Carrier that has been airing on PBS. A camera crew filmed a deployment (6 months maybe. Or a year. I can't remember.) of an aircraft carrier to the Persian Gulf. Fascinating stuff. It made me both love the military and applaud my decision to not be in it. I can't do push-ups, for one. And I don't look good in turtle necks, which most of the crew were wearing. But what I really wanted to bring up was that saying, "He swears like a sailor." Because what I have learned from this show is that if there were ever a group that really deserved that distinction, it would be actual sailors. And maybe the contestants on Top Chef.

America's Next Top Model

There was a sign up on my gym door yesterday saying that they were filming a commercial and when I signed in I also had to sign a "model release form". That's right folks, I am one step away from being the next Tyra Banks. I just need to get a really bad hair weave and I'm there. (Dear Tyra, When I can see the netting of your weave on my low-def old school tv, with my glasses off, that means it's bad. Are they paying you in Skittles instead of dollar bills? Love, Rachel.) While I was signing the release I asked what it meant and they said that the crew would be filming in different rooms and they could film me so if I didn't want to be on film then I should avoid the rooms they were filming in. Fantastic. This is exactly what I want when I work out - a camera crew.

I started on the elliptical and 15 minutes in the camera crew came in. So I moved to the track, and then they started filming shots through the window. So I went to the weight room, but half of the machines were blocked with the lights and equipment they had up there. I did manage to get an hour in but most of it consisted of running from one room to another to make sure that my sweaty face and big booty weren't recorded for all to see. Or, however many people watch Upland public access.