Dub Daily Post

(I thought I'd get back to my journalist roots with some news briefs about the latest events in my life, which are pretty much unimportant and not newsworthy, but this is my blog; I call the shots. If Tom Brokaw wants to complain, he can get his own blog.)



Despite several unsuccessful attempts on her own, Mrs. Dub learned to knit Tuesday night during an enrichment club activity. Things got off to a rough start, however, when a fellow friend tried to teach her how to “cast on,” only to discover that she’d been doing it wrong herself for several years. Both Dub and friend were then instructed on proper knitting methods and got down to the knitty-gritty. Now that Dub has mastered the basics, she says she plans to knit her way across America.
“I’m going to call it ‘Afghans for Orphan,’” Dub said. “Some people work for world peace, but I’d settle for a cozy country.”



A trip to Target last night yielded mixed results for Mrs. Aych and Mrs. Dub, who recently gained recognition for her cross-country knitting crusade. Both set off to the unparalleled retail giant under the guise that its entire World Bazaar collection would be discounted by 75 percent. Instead, the women were shocked to find that the discounts did not exceed 50 percent. Nevertheless, as true Targeteers, Aych went ahead and purchased a lamp at a not-so-steep discount, while Dub settled for some non-discount melamine plates and bowls. As a consolation, both returned to Aych’s house to scrapbook a bit and Dub – with heavy doses of Aych’s help – finished her first few pages of a wedding album.
“It’s light on the scrapping, heavy on the booking,” Dub remarked. “I like it simple.”



Contrary to recent tabloid reports, Mrs. Pea does not hate Mrs. Dub. The latter fretted for nearly 24 hours that she had offended her good friend in some way when she didn’t respond to repeated e-mails. However, Dub received the good news this morning that Pea actually adores her, but continues to suffer from an intense stomach flu frequently known as pregnancy. While Dub laments that her dear friend has to feel ill, she is happy to know that for once her foot is not stuck in her mouth.
“I mean, you think you’d notice if you stuck your foot in your mouth,” Dub said. “There’s a real tell-tale taste of old socks. But time and time again, I don’t even notice until it’s too late. I’m just glad that wasn’t the case this time, but there’s always tomorrow.”