Knit Drink Tink

Kick ass

2011-07-27T18:25:00.003-05:00

I've been thinking about body image and size lately. Mostly because I'm becoming uncomfortable with mine (a story for another day, though). But, I just stumbled on this, and it's too good not to share.

Go here and read this.

And then go out into the world and kick ass, regardless of what the tag says. Even strong people like me need reminders occasionally.

$300 and a bunch of sweat later

2011-06-16T18:41:00.005-05:00

I have a garden. I've spent lots of time out here, and it's so peaceful. And rejuvenating.

This summer's project is to work on the front. It's so boring and neglected.

I'm feeling very small right now

2011-06-15T19:27:00.004-05:00

Some friends have been pestering me about not updating, and they well know why I haven't. They've been it with me.

Don't get me wrong, it's lots of fun. But, as usual, I'm all used up, and need to hunker down at home for a bit (work is crazy right now).

But, the garden is in, and it looks great. I'm looking for a complicated lace project to work on throughout the summer while I listen to audio books and watch my garden grow.

Some pics, for now. There will be more soon, I think.

I am a princess when I sew and do construction. I think it really does suit me.

There was some knitting. A very little bit. Well, a whole shawl, if I'm honest.

There was a metric butt-ton of sewing. It was annoying, but fun.

I heart spring

2011-05-08T16:29:00.003-05:00

The time has arrived, the time I have been waiting for since I bought this netbook. I am sitting outside, with a glass of wine and the internets at my fingertips.

Today is a very good day to be me.

There are volunteer pansies springing up in the garden boxes and the flower beds (and a whole lot of weeds), Edgar is snoozing in the sun, and I think I will barbecue a large piece of beef for my dinner. This little chunk of real estate is the best $100 grand I ever spent.

With that said, life is insane. I am preparing for the show, and there is much work to be done. I'm stealing these few hours from a million other things I should be doing. Right now, I don't care. It's far too fine a day to do anything except listen to audio books, knit, and putter.

_______________________________________________________________

Mother's Day

I just tried to phone my mom, and there was no answer. No surprise there. With five grandchildren to occupy her and her own aging mother to pay attention to, the daughter 200 km away is not even on her radar screen.

But, mom? I am the woman I am because of you. And despite my many unpleasant qualities, I think I'm your finest work. I am strong, powerful and amazing. On this day, I raise a glass to you. Well, done. And thank you.

Well, there goes another weekend

2011-04-17T17:52:00.004-05:00

I was at a meeting last week, and a couple of my fellow committee members were squeeing over my bag, because they'd seen me working on it. These particular committee members are also crafters, so they understand. Another committee member looked over and said that he didn't know where I found the time.

I smiled and said something about there being plenty of time on the bus and waiting for appointments. All knitters know that squeezing in the odd round here and there can really add up (and keeps us from killing stupid people. Knitting really takes the edge off the desire to commit murder).

I got thinking about that this afternoon, because here it is, 6 pm on Sunday, and I'm still in my pajamas. I have a to-do list as long as my arm, and I've done nothing all weekend but knit. And cook a little. A girl has to eat something to soak up the wine.

I can't help it. I am utterly captivated by the purple, yellow, green and turquoise in this hand-dyed skein (which sounds like it should be clown-barf, but it's not). The feel of the silk sliding through my fingers and along the needle is music to my hands.

The pattern is so random and clever, and I say to myself "just one more row" because I'm desperate to find out what happens next. It's better than any gripping novel.

So, yeah. That half-shawl pictured above (and believe me, the colours are way, way nicer in real life) is why:

- the kitchen cupboards have not been defuzzified

- the laundry is not done

- my hair is lank and greasy

- the new batch of wine has not been started

- there is still (STILL!) wallpaper to be stripped in the study

All that aside, sometimes knitting does take forever. These socks took nearly two months. Same yardage as the shawl I'm now making, but navy blue ribbing with one boring little cable, man-sized in hard-wearing yarn just isn't as awe-inspiring. Glad these are done.

With that said, I should probably get up and scoop the poop. And have a shower. I have to go to bed in four hours. Should get the chores out of the way now.

OMG! OMG! OMG!

2011-04-16T11:17:00.003-05:00

I really wish I subscribed to HBO Canada right now.

On Sunday night, a series premieres, and I MUST. WATCH. IT. Game of Thrones is based on the first novel of A Song of Ice and Fire.

I listened to the first four novels in the series last summer while drinking wine and knitting on the cement pad. I picked them because each novel was at least 36 hours long (I have no idea what that means in pages). That was my only criteria.

Iwas captivated about 15 minutes in and I spent every spare moment listening for the next month.

Some of the characters on the good side are horrible. Some of the villains are so noble and kind they should be playing for the other team. People get hurt, people get killed. Heroines are so whiny and infuriating that you want to smack them upside the head. Gross, violent disgusting things happen. Some amazingly sweet and tender moments are sprinkled in the saga as well.

I soaked every word up. I dreamed about the books. I had trouble concentrating on things like... walking, because I was listening so intently. I forgot to eat. I fell asleep listening to them late at night. I was pissed off when I discovered that three more books are to follow, and the publication of the fifth has been delayed by several years (it's being published for sure this coming July. If Facebook says so, it must be true).

So... I will figure out a way to watch this, and must find a new knitting project to accompany it. Something ambitious, but not too complicated. Hmmm... should probably be lace.

I spend far too much time on the internet

2011-04-15T14:28:00.006-05:00

But it is such a delicious way to waste said time.

Today, I've been catching up on Reasoning with Vampires. (What? It's Friday afternoon. There's no way I'm actually going to work).

I found this delightful Tumblr during a similar Friday afternoon several months ago, while reading the Huffington Post.

These are just a few of the posts that have actually made me laugh out loud this afternoon (and that was not good, because accounting is no laughing matter. I could have totally blown my cover).

I don't really have any desire to read Twilight, though I do own the first one (bought used for one dollah), and if anything I have read about it is true; I will absolutely loathe it. So, the mocking is funny. Really, really funny. More people should think about what they read so critically and talk about it so wittily.

There has been some knitting going on

2011-04-13T17:55:00.000-05:00

Despite the near-endless family drama, televised debates to scream at, and many blogs to read, I actually have been doing what this blog is supposed to be about: knitting.

I know. I'm shocked too.

Those 14 balls of yarn from a few weeks ago? I made a bowl and a box from nine of them.

The last five got turned into this delightful little thing:

It's a bag, big enough to hold my netbook, my lunch, my knitting and maybe a book. Just the thing that a girl on the go needs for a long day away from home.

Pattern: Felted Bag with Mitered Squares (creative, no?). Modifications can be found, as usual, on my Ravelry project page.

The best part is, I now have a tiny bit of room in the china cabinet. I may (ya think?) fill it with some new yarn.

My inner nerd is absolutely delighted

2011-04-11T13:21:00.000-05:00

with the Periodic Table of Fictional Elements. I came to enjoy science fiction and fantasy much later in life than most nerds do. I sure am making up for lost time.

Something uplifting

2011-04-10T12:09:00.003-05:00

I just found this website. The photos are beautiful.

Fuck you, you homophobic assholes!

2011-04-09T14:40:00.004-05:00

I've ranted in every online fora I'm a part of. I've ranted in real life. I've flounced on facebook.

But, it's not enough. I am still pissed off. Actually, I am more than pissed off. I am HULK SMASH ANGRY. And, that anger is not going to go away anytime soon. So, in the interest of protecting my blood pressure, I'm going to try and get this off my chest.

Gay is not a lifestyle choice. It is not a disease. It is biology. Some people are born attracted to people with the same parts. Some people are attracted to people with the same parts and people with the other parts at the same time. Some people don't like parts at all. Some people are born attracted to the opposite parts.

And all of the above is not any of your business unless you are the party directly involved in the attraction of the parts.

So if your young niece/cousin that you barely know announces that she is marrying another woman, you smile and say, "Congratulations!"

That is the only socially correct response. You do not email my mother and give her a blast about said niece being an abomination unto God. You do not hijack a 65th anniversary party with your bigotry and hate. You do not have a say. It is none of your business.

And, this is perhaps my biggest problem: you do not pressure my mother into lying to me.

Because my mom shouldered this burden all by herself, because she didn't want me to go HULK SMASH, because she knows that I have strong opinions and she knows that I've been on the brink of blowing for years.

Well, perhaps Mom had a point, in the interest of protecting herself.

I've had it. I've had it with being polite and pretending that I don't see that you think I am unaware of God's will because I am divorced. I drink! I dance! I have sex outside of marriage! I have multiple lovers at the same time. I will not have children. I will have a fulfilling, rewarding career in a traditionally male field. And I will be successful. I have smiled and not talked about my life, because I'm not interested in what you think. Your secret condemnation is (here's a clue) NONE OF MY BUSINESS.

Really, I am not interested in your questions, your ferreting for information so that you can pray for me. I don't believe in your god. I don't believe in any god. And, I'm really not interested in your opinions. Your opinions of me don't matter. I don't like any of you very much; haven't for quite some time now.

But you do not get to stand up and tell another person of your own blood that you don't agree with her "lifestyle". No. Not now, not ever. Now that I really know what was going on, I'm done with you. I never want to see any of you again.

I will not allow you to crush this young woman like you tried to crush me. I will have nothing to do with you ever again. I will support her, and cry tears of joy at her wedding. Then I will get really drunk and dance until my knees hurt.

900 meter dash

2011-03-27T16:11:00.003-05:00

One week ago today, I was really hungover. Almost too hungover to knit, but I girded my loins (I'm listening to a historical yet trashy audio book can you tell?) and cast on: Knitting huge items and then throwing them into the washing machine to shrink them on purpose is amazing: See? Look at this circle that I started yesterday and finished today (that's 300 m in 24 hours): What a lovely bowl I've now got. I'm not sure if I want to put it in the china cabinet to hold yarn or in my bedroom to hold jewellery. I'm leaning towards the china cabinet - I have a feeling that the cats will want to sit in it. So, that's 900 meters knitted in 8 days. And during a week where I was frantically busy at work. Wow. Occasionally I even amaze myself.

Spring cleaning

2011-03-26T19:56:00.000-05:00

This yarn has been sitting in the stash for four years. I bought it my first winter here in Chez Peepee, when I was broke, lonely, miserable at work and completely overwhelmed: It's time to get it out of here. I cast on for a basket, and now this is what is left, and the rest is disappearing in a hurry: I fancy a new spring handbag. That dark pink will do nicely.

We're having an election!

2011-03-25T18:08:00.002-05:00

Let the shouting at the television and the computer screen begin!

Just in time for spring

2011-03-17T19:22:00.003-05:00

I finished a bulky-weight cowl. Given the weather forecast, I won't be wearing this until next December:

And apparently, I'm well over due for a cut and colour.

Something completely different

2011-03-10T18:04:00.006-06:00

I'm sure most knitters I know are familiar with my oft-repeated phrase, "the tinier the sticks and string, the happier I am." I really, really like making lace and socks. I like the fiddly-ness of lace and and the portability of socks.

So, I surprised myself when I bought two skeins of Cascade Magnum. At 123 meters and 250 grams, this is seriously bulky yarn. Totally different than my usual preference. I even bought the skeins two years apart. One was for a travelling scarf and the other... it was on sale.

So, with those two skeins taking up a whole bunch of real estate in the china cabinet, I went looking for a project. Seems 225 meters of really fat yarn is only good for accessories (no surprise there, actually).

I went looking for cowls, because that is something missing from my rather impressive scarf and hat collection.

The pattern I liked best was in French. Google translate was actually kind-of helpful, and after a couple of false starts, I managed to figure it out:

And the coolest part is I'm now trying something even more new - Kitchener stitch in ribbing. It requires concentration, because I can't use my little knit purl, purl knit groove, but it's working.

I'm glad I'm sober. It really requires concentration.

The F word

2011-03-09T21:40:00.004-06:00

It's a day late, but I had an experience tonight that I can recount that maybe explains my inarticulate rage when it comes to talking about feminism.

I was sitting in a meeting, and as usual we wandered off topic, and my friend mentioned that she'd loved the clip I posted yesterday. I tried to respond to her, but other people started talking, and International Women's Day was mentioned, and the person to my right, a man that I love and respect, kind-of rolled his eyes.

I tried to not derail the entire meeting, and said something about how I wasn't going to let him wind me up. But, I couldn't let it go. I rattled off the lovely statistic from the video, that worldwide, women do two-thirds of the work, earn 10% of the income and own 1% of of the property. I really tried to be polite about it.

He rolled his eyes again, I think. And, this is where it gets hazy, because if I had actually had the ability to get all muscly and green to make my point, I would have done so. But instead, the following happened. It may not make sense, but my mind was so full of rage that I really did want to HULK SMASH the table. Except the table was holding delicious adult beverages. I am angry, I am not a fool:

I said no, this is important, that's why we need to talk about this, to work towards improving the situation... he said something to the effect of... but you live here. I said, I don't care, this is about the planet, it's about all of us. He said, but you aren't in... Ghana. I said no, but there are women in Ghana and they are having the same problems. He said, but you are here, not Ghana, and that's the third world anyway, it doesn't matter. I said that location and economic opportunities are irrelevant (well, that's what I meant, but what I said was more like...but, sputter, sputter, I'm not gonna talk about this with a bonehead, so there!) He said that it's not going to change in my lifetime. I said that doesn't mean that I shouldn't try, that the fact it's an uphill battle should not stop the fight. I said it's like stopping war. It's unlikely, but you have to try, to make your voice heard. He said that wasn't going to happen in his lifetime, never mind his. I said that doesn't matter, I have to try.

What I got from that rambling conversation (and I wish I was clever enough to elucidate this verbally) is that he was demonstrating in a real honest-to-god conversation why feminism is necessary. The fact that he thought it didn't matter because I'm here in Canada, and I've got it pretty good is why International Women's Day and feminism don't matter.

No, no it's not. His apathy and ignorance, and goddammit, the patriarchy is why things like International Women's Day and feminism are necessary.

Two thirds of the work. 10% of the income. 1% of the property. 52% of the population. How is that, in any way, equal?

No. Just no. I have a responsibility, as a human being (never mind having two X chromosomes) to speak out about injustice, prejudice, fear and ignorance whenever I encounter it. To point out privilege where I find it and recognize my own. This is why it's important, even though we've got it pretty good (though no where near equal, though that's a rant for another day) from where I'm standing. There's a whole developing world out there. Those people count as well.

Don't even get me started on violence against women. We didn't even touch on that, and that is a real big problem right here in the first world. Argh.

MISSTEA HULK SMASH! if that only solved the problems.

The work isn't anywhere near being finished

2011-03-08T17:25:00.003-06:00

Feminism is the radical notion that women are people.
- Cherise Kramarae and Paula Triechler

This video is why I shout to the heavens, constantly, that I am a feminist.

Today is International Women's Day, the 100th anniversary, in fact. I've been thinking about that quite a lot this week, and given some of the over-privileged opinion pieces (and downright ignorant comments on those opinion pieces) and bone-headed judicial decisions I've been reading, I have quite a lot to say.

But, as usual, time is short and I'm so full of HULK SMASH rage over how bad the F-word is that I can barely see straight. So, in lieu of coherent prose, go here. The Yarn Harlot pretty much sums it up without the profanity that I am liable to spew right now.

Tossing the stash

2011-03-03T18:23:00.000-06:00

Last week, when it was time to start another pair of bar and bus socks, I had a good look at the china cabinet.

It was time for a decent sort. I had been stuffing things in willynilly for months.

My instincts were wrong, when I thought that I didn't have any sock yarn:

I also have a little bit of lace yarn. I should get cracking on some of those shawls in my favourites:

Now that things are organized, or as much as it will be until I find some new baskets, I am inspired. I can't wait to get going on some things. Some things that I've been thinking about making for years. Isn't it amazing what you don't notice because you see it every day?

My aim is to knit up a lot of the stuff on the left. Some of it was purchased when I was married (10 years ago, ouch!). Gotta make room for those new baskets I'm dreaming about.

This is why I can't have nice things

2011-02-26T20:58:00.000-06:00

Stoopid Parker, sleeping on my soon-to-be new sweater. It's a damned good thing he's cute.

Of course, maybe I shouldn't have left it on the couch.

I'll never get tired of this

2011-02-23T20:17:00.004-06:00

I'm sitting here watching the last episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 6 (my latest TV obsession), when I noticed the coolest thing:

Mattress stitch. It never gets old.

And maybe I should eat some dinner. Because clearly, I've had a lot of wine.

But seriously, a seam that makes it look like the knitting didn't stop? Cool.

Two months without socks

2011-02-22T22:13:00.001-06:00

I just realized that I haven't worked on a sock since December 26, 2010. Wow. But, there's a reason for that.

A while ago, I talked about making vests. Well, I finished knitting one about a month ago, but I got busy on Monday (Louis Riel Day, how I love you) and sewed it up.

I am quite pleased. It is a welcome addition to my work wardrobe. Details are here, for those who are inclined.

And in more non-sock news, I made it! Done the day after the initial deadline, but the shower has been postponed for two weeks. I'll have to wash this lovely wee blanket again to get the smell of my house out of it before the Sunday afternoon of wine and tiny sandwiches, but I'm quite pleased with the blanket (I'm definitely using Frankie's patterns again; they are so much fun). The wee nipper it's destined for is pretty cute as well. I wish the blanket and the baby a long and happy life together.

Ten-stitch blanket

Completing the blanket was delayed when I realized that I had a birthday gift to knit with the perfect yarn sitting in my stash. I whipped this off in a week:I don't normally knit with red, and I certainly don't knit with acrylic. But, this was fun, and I'm pretty sure it was appreciated. Perhaps I should break out of my comfort zone more often.

So.... socks. It's time to have a reasonably-sized portable project.

Children paying for the sins of their parents

2011-02-02T19:04:00.004-06:00

I happened to be listening to CBC's As It Happens tonight while I was making my dinner. I like the human interest stories; it makes for educational listening while I am puttering.

Well, I did not like what I heard tonight. In fact, this clip (starting at about 20:36) made me angry. The guest was state senator for Arizona, Mr. Ron Gould.

He just sponsored legislation proposing that anchor babies are not US citizens and should be deported, along with their parents. He wants the ACLU to get mad, sue, and hopefully take this to the Supreme Court.

I have a few problems with what Mr. Gould had to say.

First of all, those kids did not ask to be born in the United States. How can sending them back to a country that they do not know, may not speak the language serve any purpose except to frighten, dis-enfranchise and possibly alienate children (!) that are probably perfectly aware of how precarious life is? They are children.

Second of all, those horrible illegal aliens that so thoughtfully got pregnant and had those babies (and this isn't right, not by a long shot) work shitty jobs, pay dis-proportionate taxes (because they don't file income tax returns), go without health care (and that's a whole other discussion), and accept deplorable working conditions because they do not dare protest.

Thirdly, the cost of educating these children is a straw-man argument. A whopping... what was it, $9,200 to educate a child that will grow up, get a job, and pay taxes for the rest of hir life. Yup, that's a rotten return on investment (also, $9,200 to educate a child? No wonder your teachers are living in poverty).

Lastly, you, Mr. Fuckwad (oops, I mean Gould), don't like brown people. You are a racist. You may say that you aren't going to be baited into a race argument, but by avoiding the question in such a hostile manner, you are indeed showing yourself to be racist. We all know the white people coming down from Canada "for the weather" are not who you are really interested in. It's those brown people from Mexico, cleaning your hotel rooms, driving your taxis, building your houses that are the real problem you hope to solve. Solve what, I don't know. Seems to me that they are doing the jobs that you aren't desperate enough to do.

Mr. Fuckwad (oops, I mean Gould), it's people like you that gives The United States of America a bad name. You, and elected officials like you, consider yourselves the leader of the free world, whatever that is. Do me a favour. Stay home, stop bossing the rest of the planet around, and keep your racism to yourself.

Now that Stargate is over (for now)

2011-02-01T18:55:00.004-06:00

OK, I've worked my way through the ten seasons of Stargate SG1, two of the three movies and the five seasons of Stargate Atlantis. I stopped by the downtown HMV to pick up the first season of Stargate Universe. I left it there because it was $49.99. That exceeds my threshold of what I will pay for DVDs. So, that will wait. Or, I will get it on Ebay for hopefully much less.

So, I'm getting back to audio books. A while ago, I asked my dear beloved peeps at LSG to suggest epic science fiction/fantasy novels. You know, the kind that create whole new worlds, span multiple volumes, take over your dreams and leave you gasping for more. Things like The Sword of Truth or Song of Ice and Fire. You see, I had gotten the first three volumes of The Belgariad from the library, but the final two volumes were unavailable. I was forced to turn to Audible, and thought I should get some suggestions for my next selections from people I trust.

LSG delivered. Holy smokes, I was blown away by the number of responses and how movingly they wrote about the books. I compiled them into a spreadsheet, with the number of as marking how often that particular author/book/series was mentioned.

If I do a search on for epic fantasy, I get 490 results. It's remarkable how many match the recommendations I got.

I'm thinking Wheel of Time next. Or perhaps The Lies of Locke Lamora. Whatever it is, it will be many, many hours spent with headphones in and hands knitting.

Oh so clever, and so funny

2011-01-28T23:04:00.002-06:00

A new addition to my google reader is dear blank, please blank.

Two of my recent favourites:

Dear Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,

Please send me my letter already. I'm tired of the Muggle world.

Sincerely, the kid who still believes in magic

Dear Herpes,

Please stay in Las Vegas next time.

Sincerely, Anonymous.

Oops, wish I'd noticed that sooner.

2011-01-27T15:05:00.003-06:00

I've been merrily zooming around the baby blanket, mostly at work. It's great fun, and I continue to be utterly charmed by quickly rows move along when there are only 10 stitches on the needle (Whee! Maybe I can make it to the corner before office hours begin! knit, knit, knit). Short rows, previously annoying and a necessary evil are now little treats in a sea of garter stitch.

Today, though, I was staring at it while I was eating my lunch, and it occurred to me that something wasn't right:

That's right, I borked up the corner. Last Monday when I turned it on the bus heading to a meeting. I wasn't even drunk.

So this is where I am now. Three days of knitting gone in about three minutes. The good news is, I get to knit more!

Random Wednesday

2011-01-26T18:26:00.004-06:00

I uploaded the following pics from my netbook and then switched to my desktop:

Note the compost bin covered with snow. Not fun getting out there, these days.

I thought that was going to be a nice sunset, seeing as I was home an hour earlier today. Apparently, I was wrong.

And just for fun, self portrait, last Saturday. Damn, I am cute.

But, the purpose of this Random Wednesday post has been derailed by the need to upgrade my desktop. It took two hours to log in and wade through those horrible sign-ins; it doesn't help that I was doing a similar task on the netbook with mint.com.

I was home an hour early today; it's 8:30 - no dinner and no knitting, yet. Random Wednesdays suck.

Much better

2011-01-22T10:42:00.003-06:00

I found some inspiration at the yarn shop on Thursday. This wasn't the vision I had in mind when I decided to make this blanket, but I am charmed by the bright green and purpley-blue nonetheless:

Colours are much brighter than they appear. I should really learn to use photoshop or gimp.

I think it will be perfect for a baby. Bright and fun. And even more perfect for the mom and dad. It's washable.

Well, bugger

2011-01-20T14:03:00.005-06:00

I'm knitting a project on a deadline. One I thought would be easy, fun, convenient to cart around, and perfect for sitting in front of the tv.

It's the Ten-Stitch Blanket, which I think is just adorable.

Man, I love my new camera. Best use ever of Shoppers Drug Mart points.

I couldn't have been more wrong. I mean, the pattern is adorable, but this has been the project from hell.

First of all, the yarn I chose, King Riot, while pretty, is fuzzy and splitty. Not easy to work with, particularly in darker colours when it comes to ripping out. It took me three tries to get the first mitered corner correct (seeing as I have never done a mitered corner before). I wound up cutting the yarn and beginning again.

Then, my needle had a snag (again, with the fuzzy, splitty yarn; not good). A bit of sandpaper has improved that, thankfully.

The last straw was coming to a knot in the skein just as I was just getting into the rhythm of the project. Naturally, the knot completely screwed up the colour continuity. This is how far I got before giving up on finding a spot to cut the yarn and re-join:

Yes, one third of the skein.

Forget it. I'm done with this. I am not wasting another moment on a project that seems intent on pissing me off.

I'm heading to the yarn shop after work and getting something different. Problem is, after work is two hours away. Whatever shall I do? Certainly not work.

Colder than a nudist on an iceberg

2011-01-18T19:23:00.000-06:00

It's been a remarkably mild winter until this past week (with the exception of the insane amount of snow), I think we can all agree.

So, why am I being an absolute pansy? Really, it's not that cold. I must be getting older and more cautious. Or possibly lazy, and willing to latch on any excuse to stay at home in front of the tv. I've even been drinking tea in the evenings instead of wine. That cold and lazy.

Sunday phone call

2011-01-16T21:20:00.004-06:00

Holy crap.

My knitting teacher just called me, right out of the blue (well, not really, she had a two hour phone conversation with my parents last week).

I just had a two hour phone conversation with her myself (and why am I typing in a Scottish accent? Oh, yeah. Stargate. Dr. Beckett.)

Wilma, I told you on the phone, but it bears repeating: I love you. You have no idea how you've enriched my life. I think of you every time I pick up my sticks and string. You set me on the road to becoming the woman I am. I like the woman I am. Thank you.

My "helper"

2011-01-16T13:12:00.004-06:00

Edgar had to help me block my vest pieces this morning. He especially likes to chase the tape measure.

After knitting four projects during the holidays, it's been kind of a bummer to work on one little project and have it take two weeks. Of course, not having 24 hours a day to knit had something to do with it, but...

Well.

This pattern sucks.

It's not difficult, or even time consuming, and the finished vest is quite cute, otherwise I never would have persevered. But, this is the most poorly written and edited pattern I've ever come across. So much so that zero was typed as O (as in upper-case o) and there was ranDom capitAliZation. Furthermore, the instructions for the armhole decreases leaves a lot open to interpretation. To maintain pattern consistency, I totally had to fake it. I had to do the same for the v-neck as well.

I've heard similar things about other patterns this company has published, so I'm not really surprised. But if it were my name or company associated with this, I would be embarrassed. Especially since it's a pdf file. Not exactly hard to fix.

I am so excited about having this done and moving on to the next project. And if the damn vest doesn't fit after struggling with it for two weeks, I'm going to cut a bitch.

Worse than my addiction to books

2011-01-14T19:55:00.006-06:00

My obsession with all things Stargate continues. Sadly so much so that I've been short on sleep all week and race home after work to watch teevee. I'm watching the season one finale of Stargate: Atlantis right now.

I'm amused by this spin-off series, mostly because of these ships:

(image ganked from this video game website)

These ships are integral to the plot because they hold several people, can travel long distances, blah, blah, blah. But, there is no bathroom. How is that possible?

In conclusion, I haven't quite suspended all reality, but I sure am enjoying pretending.

I'm a filing madwoman

2011-01-13T21:02:00.003-06:00

Look! I even have helpers.

Thankfully, my feline overlords do not fit into the tiny baskets. That's one year of interac, credit card and cash register receipts, filed by month:

It was extremely depressing to catch up on a year's worth of filing, because filing is one of my favourite things (yes, I am a dork - that is not news). Even more depressing was the number of MLCC receipts. It's common knowledge I'm a boozehound, and for the most part, I'm OK with that. I just don't like reviewing the evidence.

Woah. Productivity is under-rated.

2011-01-12T19:36:00.004-06:00

I'm waiting for my snow removal guy to come and pick up his payment. He usually stops by between six and seven.

In the interest of politeness, I did not have my shower and get into my pajamas as soon as I got home, as is my usual practice. Instead, I puttered in the kitchen, put a load of laundry in the machine, that sort of thing.

Roger is late. Very late. So, I have made tomorrow's lunch, folded that load of laundry, ironed three shirts, gotten the coffee ready, changed the sheets on the bed and done some other things I can't remember now.

It's nearly 8 pm, and everything I wanted to accomplish tonight, and more, is done.

Having two whole hours to sit and knit before bed is an amazing feeling. I should try this more often.

Not a resolution, but it is.

2011-01-05T18:10:00.004-06:00

A while ago, I bought a 15 gb thumb drive to back up a bunch of my stuff and clean up my computer. It was part of the general declutter and organize program of 2010 that got derailed about last April.

It didn't work. So, I consulted a techy friend, ran a bunch of scans, deleted a bunch of registry keys that the Microsoft forums told me were the problem, and generally tried to figure this out on my own.

Eventually, I gave up, because my computer did not recognize the device, no matter what I tried.

Now that I have this shiny new netbook, I thought I would figure out a way to transfer data from my desktop and come up with a shiny new organizing system that will make all my crap easy to find, archive old stuff (do I really need my resume from 2004? Apparently I do) and meet my need to have everything at my fingertips, all the time.

Just for kicks tonight, I stuck the thing in the USB port. It works.

So now, I'm looking at everything, and I don't know where to start. I have over 15 gb of music alone, most of which I have never listened to (not a rap fan, just sayin') and the thought of making a bunch of it go away is just paralyzing. Never mind the budgets, the meeting minutes, the spreadsheets from a contract I had in 2005, the photos, the knitting patterns.

I might be here for a while. Send wine.

And now we are four (fucking finally! maybe?)

2011-01-04T23:16:00.006-06:00

It's become clear, over the past couple of weeks, that Edgar is no longer the cat that lives in the basement/outdoors. He is now part of the household, even though he is still skittish and Parker will kick his ass given any opportunity.

Edgar is frequently near the door waiting for me when I come home, and not in the ohgawdletmeoutofhere kind of way, but rather the squee! food! kind of way.

And when I noticed that, I stopped delivering food to him in the evenings (I am not entirely heartless - breakfast is still delivered to the basement). Instead, I poured two dishes upstairs, one on the counter, one on the floor, and plunked him on the counter to eat his dinner, while the other two did their usual business (eat, barf) on the kitchen floor.

This cruelty/training (of him or me, I remain undecided) has resulted in a cat that now hangs out upstairs of his own volition.

It has been delightful to see him jump up onto the sofa in front of the living room window to stretch out and supervise the pedestrians outside in the cold. And it's been even more delightful to watch him wander over to the other sofa, where I am sitting, to see him cuddle down by my side, occasionally with Scout only a few inches away.

Then, there was last night. Edgar followed me to bed. I am not a fool, so I shut the door on Parker, so that Scout, Edgar and I could cuddle. That worked for about ten minutes, and then Parker started scratching at the door. That was the end of that.

Tonight, I was having my pre-shower pee, with Scout in the bathroom with me, as is our habit, and a wee nose poked through the door. I nearly shut it, thinking it was Parker (he really is that much of a shit-disturber), when I realized it was Edgar. Edgar wanted to hang out with us, in the bathroom. I feel rotten for attempting to shut him out, but he wasn't having anything to do with me, after that. Fair enough.

Two days, two milestones. Edgar has lived here for 19 months. It's been a long time coming.

It's a Christmas Miracle!

2010-12-31T21:19:00.004-06:00

Yes, that is all three cats on the sofa. No fighting. Edgar was giving Parker the stink-eye for a bit, but then he pretended to go to sleep.

In fact, Parker sat on the end table for quite some looking quite longingly at the little tableau that Scout, Edgar and I presented. Then, Parker sneaked on to my lap and hunkered down for a bit.

Sadly, we didn't last long. My wine glass was empty, and since I do not have the ability to open the fridge and pour a glass with my mind, I got up.

Happy Oo Near, from Chez Peepee to you and yours.

7,497 stitches

2010-12-30T15:06:00.003-06:00

Just for fun, I did a quick and dirty calculation of how many stitches are called for in this shawl. The chart part, anyway.

Since I started about four yesterday and finished just now, that's a whole lot of knitting.

But I like it. I think it looks good.

It's meant to be a donation for a silent auction, but once again, I'm going to have a hard time parting with it.

Home sweet home

2010-12-28T19:28:00.003-06:00

I went home for Christmas yesterday. Since the roads were crap, and I am recovering from some sort of terrible plague, it was probably not a good idea.

However, having knit eight pairs of socks, I was going to deliver them, dammit.

Plus, I had to pick up these:

The background wheel belonged to my grandmother, the foreground wheel, my dad purchased at an auction sale. Neither of them are operational, but the one in the front has potential.

Not Christmas gifts, because we don't do that, but, a very good Christmas nonetheless.

My new netbook cover

2010-12-26T15:49:00.004-06:00

One of the things I like best about new electronic toys is making covers. Why buy when I can make?

So yesterday, Christmas day, once the Christmas sock knitting was finished (nothing like leaving it until the last minute), I cast on. With Season 6 of Stargate SG1 playing in the background (I love me some MacGuyver in space), and a glass of wine on the table beside me, I did the following:

Felted netbook case

Materials: One skein of Cascade 220 or approximately 200 meters of yarn that will felt.

Needles: 6 mm circular (I used a 16").

Gauge before felting: 17 sts and 21 rows to 4 inches.

Cast on 100 sts and join in the round. Circumference is approximately 22.5 inches. Knit for approximately 10 inches.

Next round: cast off 50 sts.

On remaining 50 stitches, knit flap as follows:

6 rows stockinette, beginning with a knit row.

Next row: k2, ssk, k to last 4 sts, k2 tog, k2.

Purl next row.

Repeat last 2 rows until 30 sts remain.

Cast off remaining stitches.

Sew bottom closed and weave in ends. Felt to dimensions of netbook. One round through the washing machine (hot wash, cold rise) with the lowest water level and two pairs of jeans did the trick for me.

Sew on buttons or clasps. To make a button hole, pierce the fabric with increasingly large needles until the desired size is reached.

84 g of yarn used.

I'll post a photo with the clasps, as soon as it's finished drying.

Posting from the living room

2010-12-23T20:14:00.002-06:00

I am sitting here, in the living room of Chez Peepee, playing with my new netbook and my new camera, while watching teevee and drinking wine.

Life is good.

MacGuyver in space. AKA, Stargate SG1. My nerdiness is large.

Ten Days to Go

2010-12-15T18:10:00.004-06:00

I loathe Christmas and everything about it, except the food, the booze, and the time off work. The visiting with friends and family is kind of cool, too. And the music is all right. If it's good (meaning, written prior to about, oh, 1950 and not performed by anyone that was born after me. Generally speaking).

In short, I hate the commercialism, the need to give great, grand gifts to everyone, as if some stupid snow village encased in a globe tells my veterinary assistant how much I care. Or that a hokey tree ornament was thoughtfully chosen for me by my bartender(s), when every one else shining the bar with their sleeves that night got one as well.

Cynical much? Not me.

Thankfully, my parents and siblings opted out of this nonsense years ago, and I've managed to convince my girly pals that I'd rather spend time with them instead of shopping for stuff. It's a huge relief.

But, now there are the small people. And, small people love Christmas. I do hate disappointing them, when they are so easily pleased and are so generous with their smiles and hugs. There's something about the phrase, "Auntie Misstea, I love you" that makes me want to make sure that the universe farts rainbows just for them.

So, I sucked it up last night, and went to a book shop. You'd think that 11 days before Christmas, it would be a gong show, but apparently not at 5:30 on a Tuesday. Good planning on my part, for a change. And, I must admit, the 40 minutes I spent playing around in the children's section was rather fun. There's some cool stuff out there. From now on, I will be the Auntie that gives books and knitted things.

So, with that in mind, I got home from work tonight and spread out all the unallocated knitted things on the sofa:

I need eight kid-sized somethings. I have them. Problem is, I have no idea if the sock to foot size is at all reasonable. I'll ask LSG (because LSG knows everything) and then, it might be a little insane around here. I can't believe I'm doing this.

My heart is still two sizes too small, just for the record. And Santa is creepy. He breaks into your house, FFS.

Sooper Saturday

2010-12-11T22:09:00.004-06:00

I loathe winter, with every fibre of my being. It makes every choice I've made for my life (i.e. not having a car, living in the buttfucknowhere of this city) truly intolerable.

But at at the same time, every once in a while, winter allows me to blow off everything, and just sit at home to knit.

I've done this while sitting at home when I should have been doing other things:

Finished it, and am well started on the next, all while watching Stargate, SG1, season 2. (We will talk about my inability to actually read ALL the instructions another day). Then there was some wine, and dancing, while listening to Vinyl Tap. Life is good.

The hunt for Season 3 starts tomorrow. I'm desperate to find out what happens. And the second gauntlet needs finishing. Since I've called them Stargate Gauntlets on Ravelry, season 3 appears to be a requirement.

Paint ALL the things

2010-12-09T17:59:00.003-06:00

Before I get started, have you seen this blog? It's delightful.

And that reminds me that I should update my blog list on the right. My interests have changed radically over the past three years, and I now read very few knitting blogs, because I can get that stuff on Ravelry. However, Google Reader (I migrated there a couple of months ago, when Bloglines announced it was shutting down, a migration that was long overdue) has brought to my attention many wonderful things that are outside the knitting world. Run-on sentence, much?

Anyway, I've been feeling, in the best possible way, rather at loose ends since I sat the exam. I won't be taking another course until summer, 2011, at the earliest, though fall is more likely. It's going to be about three months until the show moves into super-high gear, at which time I will be swamped, manic, cranky and loving every minute of it.

So, it's time to find a project. It's got to be cheap, only moderately time-consuming, and I need another hobby like I need another hole in the head. Also, deadlines and I don't get along. I thought about volunteering for something. I thought about knitting for charity (but then remembered I have many friends and loved ones to knit for - I don't need to knit for strangers who will likely not love what I make). There are, naturally, many books I want to read, and many television programs to catch up on, but that can only be done so much before my ass grows as wide as my sofa.

I was in the bedroom tonight, changing the sheets, when I glanced at the window. Or more accurately, the blinds. Which are nicotine stained, cheap and generally ugly. It occurred to me that I should get off my butt and make those curtains I've been talking about.

And then something else occurred to me.

Cue the trumpets.

I stripped (or rather, my good friend D stripped) most of the wallpaper in my study before I moved into Chez PeePee. My intention was to finish stripping the wallpaper and paint, but somehow (ha!) time has gotten away from me.

It's been four years, and it's time to have a proper study / spare bedroom.

Now, don't get me wrong, this is not the first time this thought has occurred to me. Some months ago, I borrowed a wallpaper steamer from my good friend M (it's good to have good friends) and it has been sitting in the dining room since I brought it home in August. Enough.

I am taking holidays between Giftmas and Oo Near. That would be a good time to putter around and finish stripping the wallpaper and give the walls a good wash. There may even be time to do the patching, or at least make an attempt at patching, because I suck at that sort of thing.

In my wildest fantasies (the wildest fantasies of the past hour, anyway) I can get it painted as well. Painted a bright lime green that screams cheer, good energy and inspiration.

We'll see about that.

Anyway, before pics:

This is the view behind my desk. I can't believe, now that I think about it, that I have been looking at this for four years. Clearly, I only see what I want to see.

After the exam is over

2010-12-07T19:40:00.005-06:00

How does the world keep turning?

How does the free time grow?

How does a knit stay burning?

After procrastination's glow?

OK, that's all I've got, and it's pretty lame.

The exam was 8 days ago, and since then, I feel ten years younger, 40 pounds lighter and just generally good about things.

Which is a long way to say that the exam was... not bad.

While there is no doubt that I didn't do enough studying, because it is impossible to do too much studying for these things, I don't think I completely buggered it up. I didn't have that shaking feeling of anxiety during the 20 minutes between the reading of the instructions and being allowed to touch the paper. I turned the paper over and wrote solidly for 3 hours and 55 minutes. The MC questions seemed to be clear, the case studies drew on content that I was comfortable with, enough that I could issue an opinion without grasping for straws. There wasn't a consolidation question with foreign currency translation, thank FSM. Looking back, I should have tackled the big case question first. The exam suggested 1 hour, 55 minutes for that question alone. I had 1 hr, 45 minutes left when I got to it.

I know, from reading the exam blueprint, that I did not go into enough detail to get an extraordinary number of points, but all I need is 50. It's pass/fail, and there is no feedback unless the candidate royally messes up. So, I'm letting it go until February 5, when the results are released.

I did realize, however, that taking this course now was a really good move - it's a course that tests breadth, not depth, and it draws on courses that I took as long as ten years ago. Much has changed (IFRS/GAAP, I'm looking at you!), much has been forgotten. I can only imagine how much harder it would have been if I had waited even longer, not taking any accounting courses in the mean-time.

So, the next order of business is to get through the second one, and then return to my degree studies. And if I never get around to that degree, well, then I will have accomplished the goal I set for myself in 1996 - to complete the CGA program of study. I could be satisfied with that. Maybe.

So, what I have been doing for the past week? Well, I cleaned my house, because things had been sorely neglected during the run-up to the exam, I listened to Harry Potter 5 and 6, and watched the movies. And on Sunday... I saw The Deathly Hallows Part 1.

It was good. As always, the books are better (though I kind of agree with people who have said that the months of roughing it could have been considerably shortened). What I like (and I need to do more reading about the changes in writers/directors/producers) is that like the books, the movies have grown with Harry - grown darker, addressed more mature issues. The animation of the story of The Deathly Hallows was particularly well done. Part 1 finished in a good spot - about 2/3 of the way through the book, but right before the final action begins. I can't wait for July.

And speaking of Harry Potter, I was at the watering hole on Friday, and convinced another reader to pick them up. She, like me, had been reluctant to jump on the bandwagon. I think I may have convinced her by talking about how it was a metaphor for Germany from 1936 to 1945, with flashes of Anne of Green Gables.

But there has also been knitting! I knitted a hat. It's alpaca, details on Ravelry. I've even blocked it, and hope to give it to the recipient tomorrow. It's a wee bit big for me, so it should fit her perfectly. If not, I'll make her another. She bought me more than enough yarn to do so, after all.

I don't know what the hell is going on with the jog on the right side. Bad photography staging, for sure.

That's better.

A hat.

Second post

2010-11-17T19:20:00.003-06:00

OK, two posts in a day is not something I like to do, but this is too funny.

I got home at 5:30, and my normal practice when I don't have plans is to jump in the shower and then put on my jammies.

However, my lawn care guy was supposed to come at six to pick up his payment, so I didn't do that. Call me old-fashioned, but I like to be dressed when tradespeople come to call.

He phoned at 6:45. I told him, "I've been waiting for you to come, so I can get in the shower."

Cue the long silence.

I nattered something about not meaning it like that.

He came and got his money, still pissing himself with laughter.

I'm getting into the shower, now. Alone. Which is how I like it.

I shoulda taken that left turn at Albuquerque

2010-11-17T18:38:00.004-06:00

On Monday night, after posting about wanting to knit a vest, I sat down to knit a swatch.

I grabbed some yarn that had been sitting in the stash for a while (I can't believe I just ganked my own photo; it was just easier) and some needles.

I got 22 stitches and 28 rows to 4 inches. Perfect... for something.

During the next commercial break, I grabbed the binder where I keep all the patterns I've printed/photocopied (legally, of course) and found...

A sweater.

source

Yes, I know. I was all about the vests. But, I have a sweater's worth of yarn, I need a new cardigan, and the gauge was perfect. Really, I cannot stress that enough. THE GAUGE WAS PERFECT.

So, I'm making a Basic Black (pdf link), but mine will be Basic Pink (Ravelry link).

It's a deliciously easy knit. I cast on last night at Knit Night, and blasted on through an inch of ribbing while visiting. Got the other three inches done on the bus and at work today (I felt like slacking. So what?).

It's good that it's an easy knit. I found out an hour ago that I qualified for my exam. It's in 10 days. I have not started studying. I will knit while I am reading. I promise. About the reading. Harry Potter is on hold.

See my vest! See my vest!

2010-11-15T18:21:00.004-06:00

Made from real gorilla chest....

A while ago, a friend gave me a vest she'd made but wasn't wearing.

Pattern from Chic Knits.

Mine is in heathered greys and has lovely shiny buttons. It just slid into my work wardrobe. So much so that I wear it at least once a week in fall/winter/early spring.

That's got me thinking that I need more vests. Vests, and I have spent a lot of time thinking about this, are the perfect article of clothing for me.

I layer things, and a vest, by its very nature, is meant to be layered.
There are no pesky too-short sleeves that make my extra-long arms look freakishly long.
I have lots of yarn in the stash that isn't quite enough for a sweater, but is just right for a vest.
Vests are probably fast to knit. See again: no sleeves.

I'm at the point where I am ready to choose a new project, and I am dithering between these:

Wicked Eyelet Rib Vest

Fitted Top

Rostfarbenes Lyra-Top von Lisa (pdf link)

photo from here

Of course, my favourite is in German. I don't speak German, and I really doubt that Google translate speaks knitting.

Me and Malls = Shoes

2010-11-11T15:02:00.002-06:00

I had 15 minutes to kill today while I was waiting for a bus. So, I wandered into a shoe store.

I got these. On sale (it's hard to find stock in my size on sale).

Perfect for showing off hand-knitted socks. I didn't even know I needed these until the salesperson pointed that out.

Anticipation

2010-11-09T18:56:00.000-06:00

In preparation for this:

I am listening to all of the Harry Potter audiobooks. Not coincidentally, I am also a knitting machine these days.

A first sweater (but not really)

2010-10-29T17:42:00.004-05:00

Up until a few days ago, it has been gorgeous, I think we all can agree.

But now that it's cold, I need sweaters. You see, I promised myself a couple of years ago that I would never buy myself a sweater again, and for the most part, I have held to that promise.

Therefore, in order to wear sweaters, I need to knit them.

Enter the Debbie Bliss Cotton Angora.

My friend Jodijill bought this several years ago for her first sweater. Naturally, I was the one who recommended pink (Jodijill freely admits that she's only wearing black until something darker is invented).

Well, the pink sweater never worked out, so Jodijill gave it to me in exchange for a pair of socks. I totally scored on that deal.

A couple of weeks ago, while suffering an epic hangover, I cast on. Two days later, this is what I had:

I did put it aside for a shawl and a hat, while I thought about how to not knit the sleeves just yet. That didn't take me long, so I've carried on and I'm just about done the body:

If I take it everywhere with me this weekend, I just might finish it.

Books! Squee! More books!

2010-10-23T17:14:00.006-05:00

If someone isn't depending on me to show up to something, I rarely leave the house on weekends.

My home is my castle and all that stuff.

However, I visited the public library website the other day, and noticed that a used book sale is coming up.

I immediately put it in my calendar. I was going, because I haven't bought a book since sometime in 2009 (sadly, that is not an exaggeration).

I spent $25 and got many, many books. I am a happy woman right now (not that I have time to read, but whatev).

The first thing I found was A Jest of God by Margaret Laurence. For fifty cents. Sold.

I did a book report on it in Grade 10. It was the first Laurence novel I ever read, and it started a lifelong love affair with her work.

Then I headed to the mystery and thriller section. I spied several David Baldacci books - I've been listening to many audio books by this author this summer, and I just finished Divine Justice. However, I mistakenly downloaded an abridged version, and it was... clunky. I'm looking forward to finding out what parts were left out.

And I found another Baldacci, Hour Game. It's in the middle of a series, but I'm pretty sure the first two are available via the library's audio download (have I mentioned how much I love that service? If not, I really love that service).

Mysteries also found me picking up two Ian Rankin books. I read the first Inspector Rebus novel years ago, and I fully intend to read them all. In order.

I'll make a note of the titles and pick them up here and there.

I checked out the science fiction and fantasy, then. Not much there, and certainly not what I was looking for. I love the epic sagas that stretch over many books and thousands of pages. It's been my experience that those are not often found used. Nerds tend to hang on to their books (not that I blame us). I'm mostly looking for hard copies of books I've listened to, and now have to keep my eyes peeled. Of course, once I've started buying a series, I like to have the same format, whether hardcover, trade or paperback. It really bothers me when my series don't match.

However, I did pick up the hard-cover copy of Emily Giffin's Love the One You're With. It won't match my trades, but it is at least the same cover style. One has to compromise when paying $3.00 for a fairly new hard cover novel.

I cruised over to the young adult table, then. Specifically, I was looking for the first two Harry Potter novels, which strangely disappeared from my apartment, years ago, after my roommate had a party. HP is another one that is hard to find used. I spied a copy of Twilight for a buck.

I have sworn to never read this novel, because Bella is an annoying twat and VAMPIRES DO NOT SPARKLE.

But for a dollar? I suppose I'll give it a try, just so that I can be condescending with some authority.

From there, I spied the craft section. Always on the hunt for knitting books, I made a beeline for that table. There were two knitting books, one really shitty, and the other one I all ready own. But, for $1.50, I bought Big Girl Knits anyway. I'll give it to someone, because it deserves to be loved.

Also, why so much needlepoint and crewel embroidery? It's cool stuff, don't get me wrong, but those two crafts are really over-represented in used-book sales and shops.

Sadly, my dreams of finding a first edition Starmore remain unfulfilled.

After that, it was a cruise down more fiction and literature. I picked up The Blind Assassin, but my other Margaret (Atwood). That is amusing, because I woke up this morning thinking about The Handmaid's Tale, a novel that truly freaked me out, and made me sign up for my Feminist with a capital F membership.

At this point, my arms were full, so I made my way to the till. When I said to the fellow that I had to leave because I couldn't carry any more, he kindly offered to let me leave my stack there so I could continue shopping. How nice, eh? I wandered through the cookbooks (on the lookout for The Joy of Cooking and anything by Julia Child, just for fun). On a table earmarked for hobbies, I spied a one-volume set of the first four Hitchiker's novels.

For a dollar.

I nearly shouted with joy. I've been looking for these, off and on, for years. I read them in high school and think of them often. The recent movie was a tragedy, by the way.

Then, it was a quick cruise through the cds (Alanis Morrisette and Boyz to Men were seriously over-represented) and then back to the till. Time to come home and find shelf space for all these treasures.

I think I will try leaving the house more often on weekends. Long bus rides across town are also very productive when knitting socks.

If you could read my mind

2010-10-22T21:45:00.003-05:00

You tube + Friday night + drinking = walk down memory lane

Happy, Happy Times

2010-10-03T00:25:00.005-05:00

I don't know about other folks... but sometimes, I screw up my friendships.

I get busy... I am usually drunk... I do stupid things.

And then people disappear off the face of the earth. Fair enough. It's probably my fault.

But sometimes, thing re-align themselves, and the world is perfect again.

As in, I just spent six hours with a dear, dear friend I have missed greatly. The world is a happy place right now.

Will, I will be your Grace any time. Always and forever.

Squee!

2010-09-01T20:03:00.003-05:00

I'm still fighting with the pink wrap. I've screwed up royally (about 20 rows to rip back) and therefore, it's in time out. Really, every time I think I've got things under control, I pour a glass of wine or six, and then things go pear-shaped.

Coincidence? I think not? Will I stop drinking wine? Not bloody likely.

However, I wanted to move on to a quick, easy project that would give me a sense that I have accomplished something. I thought I would make some socks for my newest nephew. These will be too small for him, but I'm sure there will be another baby in my circle of friends and family eventually (cough, January, cough).

They are adorable, and only took me about four hours.

Paddling upstream. Or not.

2010-08-31T19:57:00.000-05:00

I am... not tactful. In certain situations, I can be downright blunt. And in commemoration of a particularly memorable phrase shouted in a bar during a meeting I was chairing, one of my dearest friends made this for me:

I think it's awesome, and as soon as I can figure out where to hang it, it will proudly be the first piece of art on these walls (it's only been four years).

Eight rows forward, four rows back

2010-08-26T21:54:00.004-05:00

I have been on a knitting marathon this summer, and I'm rocking the complicated stuff.

Different gauge? I own it.

Tricky shaping? Let me do the math.

Finishing? You are my bitch.

However, the knitting god (must be a man) has to smack a knitter down, every once in a while.

This is what it should be:

This is what I did:

Yup, I ripped. And I had wondered why I only had 29 stitches when putting my row markers back on the purl row after the double decrease.

Perhaps listening to extremely compelling audio novels is not a good idea while knitting a lace pattern.

A recipe

2010-08-16T21:49:00.002-05:00

I'm not much of a cook. I like food, there's no doubt about that, but I'm not really that interested in cooking for myself. I mean, I cook, quite a bit, but it's not my favourite thing to do.

That said, I love gardening. And, I grow tomatoes and basil for just one reason.

And, that reason is something I only know in Spanish. Tomates salades

It's stupidly simple. I don't know why I didn't think of this before I went to Spain.

Slice some provolone or goat cheese, and layer slices of tomato and red onion. Top with a fresh basil leaf. Drizzle with olive oil, the best you can afford.

Nom, nom, nom.

Don't worry, I'm still alive

2010-08-11T23:27:00.006-05:00

My house is currently 28 degrees C. It is only 25 degrees outside (at nearly midnight).

Since it's been like this for the better part of the past two months, I've pretty much been living outside (one of these days, I will get a laptop and wifi).

Here's a little snapshot of some of what I have been doing:

Want a closer look?

Plus, there's this:

And a few odd things that are shaped like feet:

It's not all about the sticks and string, though. There's a mountain of greenery. Most of which is producing food:

There's been the occasional quick trip out of town. Mostly involving babies. Some two-legged babies, as always, but a particularly memorable trip was one involving four-legged babies:

In summary, I just haven't felt like writing. Not sure if I am depressed, not sure if I am just not into it. Lots of good things are happening in my life.

Some not so good stuff, either. I just registered for a course, and that is indeed a sign that summer is over. :(

Happy Canada Day!

2010-07-01T22:53:00.000-05:00

I am doing absolutely nothing to celebrate Canada Day.

I worked instead. It took me two (yes, two!) hours to get home from work (I could have walked faster) and I'm fucking pissed off.

But, I know that I wanna be Canadian.

This is one of those nights

2010-05-24T01:52:00.001-05:00

where I am feeling sorry for myself.

Youtube videos always make me feel better.

I'm drinking wine, and singing along at the top of my lungs.

This is not the blog you are looking for

2010-05-10T20:58:00.005-05:00

I have a dirty little secret: I know how to sew.

I have chosen to concentrate on knitting, because I find it much more satisfying. But, I learned to sew nearly 30 years ago, and yesterday, I hauled out the machine for the first time in nearly ten years.

It's amazing how quickly it came back to me. Which is good. I sewed four dresses yesterday, another one today, and the sixth and final one on Wedesday. I hope.

God help me if these dresses don't fit. Also, I hope the people intended to wear them have slips, because I seriously cheaped out on the fabric.

What am I doing, you ask? Well, I'm working on my show, Nuthouse and Other Stories. We are performing this Thursday and Friday. You should come and see it, just to see my amazing handi-work, if nothing else.

The Ce-ment Pad is Open for Business

2010-04-22T22:02:00.002-05:00

The usual spring busy-ness is in full swing, and I'm loving it.

But, the weather is unseasonably warm. I had to drag the table and chairs outside the other day, and get into my summer groove of enjoying a large glass of wine on the ce-ment pad after work.

I have wine, knitting and an audio book. While I'm sitting in the sun.

I need nothing else, except a friend or two to join me every once in a while.

Mind you, the place isn't actually fit for company right now. I haven't be home long enough (and sober enough) to pick up all the garbage in the hedge that the snow was hiding. Yuck.

Surprise weekend getaway

2010-04-15T17:45:00.005-05:00

Last Thursday, I was hanging out with some colleagues sharing a few beers.

My host asked me if I wanted to join him at his family's cottage that weekend. His son was otherwise occupied and the friend that was going to join him bailed.

Since I had no weekend plans, and was just a wee bit tipsy, I said yes.

It was fantastic.

He fished. I knitted.

I learned how to use a slingshot (and, I only suck about half the time).

We saw an eagle, among other wildlife specimens.

We hiked along the hydro line.

The view from the deck was amazing.

I didn't want to leave. I hope it doesn't take two years to get around to the next visit.

This is the sweater that never ends

2010-04-13T17:27:00.005-05:00

Remember what I said about finishing that sweater in one weekend? Well, that didn't happen. It got put away in favour of listening to a fellow play his guitar in my living room until 8 AM and then sleeping all day. Not what I had at all planned, but fun nonetheless.

But over a couple evenings, I merrily whipped down one sleeve, and didn't even mind being caught in that knitting vortex where it feels like I've been knitting forever, but haven't actually achieved any length. I never worry about that, because the next time I pick it up, I'll be two inches past where I meant to stop.

That didn't happen, though. I was at a friend's cottage last weekend, and the sleeve was perfect. I ribbed for two inches and then cast off.

I am no fool. To keep my mojo going, I picked up the stitches and knitted on the other sleeve until I ran out of yarn (the last skein was left at home, and I didn't want to pack my ball winder and swift).

So, Sunday night, I was happily curled up on the couch with Edgar; watching The Golden Compass on TV. I happened to look down at what I was doing. And noticed that the last skein is a completely different colour. Completely.

As in, more brown than purple, though this isn't the greatest photo.

So, now I have to rip out the finished sleeve and then work alternating rows. Shit. For an easy sweater in bulky yarn, this sure is taking a long time.

My parents went to Detroit & Iowa

2010-04-04T17:31:00.003-05:00

and all they brought me were these freaking amazing gifts!

That's right, I am now the proud owner of an pink John Deere hoodie with matching gardening gloves (Iowa) and a key chain made in the Henry Ford Museum's shop (Detroit).

I'm gonna be too cool for school, because my three nieces? Got the exact same sweatshirt. I think that's the best thing ever.

This is for Jodijill and Mr. Jodi

2010-03-29T16:08:00.000-05:00

I hated Lady Gaga until I saw this:

Now, whenever I feel sorry for myself, I watch this video. It makes me happy.

And I was amazed to hear that two of the coolest people I know were unfamiliar with this mashup. I dedicate this to them.

Progress: Zero

2010-03-27T07:53:00.005-05:00

Since Wednesday, I've been working on short-rows for the sleeve of my raglan sweater. Not working.

See that bump? There's one on the back as well. Those bumps make my arms look like I've got some sort of matching tumour on either side.

Refusing to give up, though, last night, I sat down with three episodes of Torchwood and determined to zip down the sleeve a bit and see how it looked:

Well, this is what the sleeve looks like now:

I'm leaving the idea of having a horizontal line where the yarn changes. If I buckle down, I can finish this weekend. Which is good, because I'm itching to get back to my Malabrigo cardi. Which I've ignored since all this finishing old project stuff started. It misses me.

My debit card fell down and swiped itself

2010-03-25T17:53:00.004-05:00

Foolish me. I avoid malls for a reason.

I had to quickly run into one tonight to pick some stuff up from a friend who is employed there. And, I had ten minutes to kill before the bus arrived.

So, I spent that ten minutes trying on sunglasses.

I'm in love. With my smoking hot, summery self.

Here's the carrot

2010-03-24T18:50:00.004-05:00

Once I figured out that I was in the mood to tidy, organize and finish some stuff around here, I promised myself there would be no new yarn purchases.

New yarn would be my reward for having an empty WIP basket and a cleaner, tidier home. And, I was feeling very, very strongly about that resolution.

Until last Saturday. I was working at my lys, and some new product caught my eye.

I was mature, I was responsible, and I did not bring it home with me. I did pet it for a while, though.

But I continued thinking about those delicious colours, the lovely sproinginess. I have a pattern in my queue that is just waiting for the perfect heavy lace weight or light sock yarn in a semi-solid. It will be my next project when my WIP basket is empty.

Last night, when I was at the shop again, and with a few glasses of wine under my belt, my resolve faltered.

Not one, not two, not three, but four new skeins fell into my shopping bag and came home with me:

I am a weak, weak person. I wonder where that stick is, now.

Umn, what do I do now?

2010-03-23T22:43:00.005-05:00

I'm at the point, during this course of Finishitis, that I've finished all the easy stuff.

It's now time to turn to the hard stuff. Like a sweater I designed myself (like there's not a million top-down raglan pull-overs out there) and I stalled at the arms:

I want the multi-coloured part of the arms to stop at the exact same place where it stops in the body of the sweater. In a horizontal line. I tried some short-rows, and all I got was poofy sleeves. I am a woman with broad shoulders. I do not need poofy sleeves.

One of my knit night peeps suggested darts towards the underarm, front and back. That's intriguing.

Another said to just knit and see what happened. I liked that idea, because it was the simplest of all the stuff I've been considering.

All I know is, I've got beautiful yarn, a sweater that looks great, and no idea how to finish it. Just in time for spring.

If I am sick...

2010-03-19T18:43:00.004-05:00

I don't ever want to get better.

This case of Finishitis continues. It feels really damn good to get some of that stuff out of the WIP basket (though somehow, the basket isn't getting any emptier).

Tonight's project was to finish socks that I started in January, 2008. Yup, I blogged about them here. J just turned 33. Oops.

I stalled on these because I had forgotten to note how many stitches I used for the heel flap, and was concerned about running out of yarn.

Finally, last Tuesday, running out the door for knit night, I grabbed them, thinking that it wouldn't really matter if the heel flap was done over 32 or 34 stitches, and if there had to be a contrasting toe, well, I could always give them to Dad. He wouldn't care.

Turns out, my heel flaps match exactly, and I have about 4 meters of yarn left. One is a tiny bit smaller than the other, but no one's feet match anyway.

I'm running out of old projects. What a strange feeling.

Procrastination is a wonderful thing

2010-03-18T18:24:00.004-05:00

I was going to do my taxes tonight, because the last receipts came in today's mail.

And then, I looked at my shit-magnet of a desk, and realized that much work had to be done in order to be ready for tomorrow's visit from the cleaners.

So, somehow, in my wisdom, I pulled out every pattern I've ever printed or photocopied (legally!) and am now matching finished projects to ball bands, and separating things into several piles:

Completed
Queued (must make!)
Favourited (very appealing)
Instructional
I must have been drunk

I am hole-punching all this stuff, and putting it in a binder (yay me for not ever throwing out school supplies. I've got enough binders and subject dividers to last me a lifetime).

The bonus is there's now enough room on the magazine shelf for, you know, actual magazines.

And now Scout is washing his bum while he's sitting on the pile. Nice.

Sometimes, I get so annoyed with myself

2010-03-17T18:35:00.003-05:00

So, I have this reputation of being super-organized, and having everything in its place all the time.

Not true. Maybe that was true a few years ago, but not anymore. Underneath the lids of the carefully arranged baskets and spreadsheets that I constantly talk about, chaos reigns supreme.

I've been trying to update my Ravelry notebook with all the projects I've completed over the past year (yes, a year), and it's not fun, scrolling through the photo files, trying to figure out what I finished and when, how many stitches I cast on and what mods I made to the pattern.

Trying to find the ball band is its own world of heartache, because all the ball-bands are tossed into a basket, along with patterns, swatches and miscellaneous sticky notes. The task of matching up things that belong together is nearly impossible.

Also, why I feel the need to keep every single ball band that I've ever come across, I'll never know. Especially now that we have Ravelry to keep track of the details.

Of course, it doesn't help that my blogging has been less-than frequent over the past eight or so months.

I'm over-whelmed. I don't know where to start.

I know better. I really do. If I did this at work, I would fire myself.

Someone call 911

2010-03-16T17:30:00.002-05:00

because I am on fire!

I don't know what's gotten into me these days, but if I ever figure it out, I'm gonna bottle and sell it. I'm finishing projects I started in 2004. Yes. 2004.

The road to hell

2010-03-13T22:16:00.004-06:00

has Edgar laying in the middle lane.

Since I'm on a finishing kick these days, I dragged out some old projects, thinking I'd watch some downloaded videos and keep on sewing.

Nope. This guy

got in the way. I like to cuddle him as much as possible. The other two can go hang themselves, because they sleep with me.

A command performance

2010-03-12T23:16:00.001-06:00

Tonight was one of our semi-annual social events for the office staff of Construction Inc. We were invited to enjoy the company's box seats at a local hockey game. As a supervisor, I had to go.

The invite went out more than two months ago (mostly because I made my displeasure about the short notice last time very well-known). Well, my colleagues are flakers. I don't even like hockey that much, but I was going for my free beer(s) and dinner of grease, served with a side of grease (which was delicious, except for the coconut shrimp. I love shrimp, but despise coconut).

So, it was noticed, in our not-anywhere-near capacity crowd of twelve, that I was extremely uncomfortable when a fight broke out. In fact, I couldn't watch it, and had a very compelling need to get more chips and dip at that exact moment.

I was ribbed a little for that, and that's OK. They all know that I'm just Dippy the Hippie working under-cover for the man.

I really blew it, though, during the second fight. The whole crowd was chanting "Fight! Fight! Fight!" I had to shout as well, because it was a critical moment in the game.

I shouted, "Use your words, boys!"

Yeah. Not gonna live that one down, any time soon.

A cautionary tale

2010-03-11T22:06:00.003-06:00

I thought I was hot stuff, last night, while I was sewing in that zipper.

Do you see what's wrong? Maybe not.

The zipper pull is on the inside. So, I've torn it all out and started again. The moral of the story: do not attempt something new while drunk and watching an extremely compelling video.

This little episode reminds me of one my favourite quotes:

If you can't be a good example, then you'll just have to serve as a horrible warning.

Catharine Aird

This motto has served me well.

I'm a learnin' somethin' new!

2010-03-10T22:08:00.003-06:00

And look who was hanging out with me while I was learning new things! He even continued hanging out when I went to get my dinner (and was chased to the basement five minutes later. Baby steps).

Oh. Apparently I haven't grown

2010-03-03T18:22:00.000-06:00

I went to the dentist today. As is my usual practice, I did a wee bit of shopping (my dentist is in a mall, and I made the second and third DVD purchases of my entire life) and wandered out to the bus stop, just as the horde of people getting off at five were walking to said bus stop.

I glanced at a guy who was clearly looking at me.

It was my ex-husband.

We both looked away, pretended we didn't know each other. A bus stopped. A bus that I could have gotten on.

He got on it.

I waited for the next one.

The fucker owes me money. I wish I had the guts to make nice so that we could get around to talking about that.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: the moral high ground is expensive. And more than just in the wallet sense.

Time for a change. Scary change.

2010-02-17T21:00:00.004-06:00

I am a creature of habit. It took me two years to change my coffee-and-wine-stained keyboard, FFS, even though I had to train myself to only use the right shift-key.

I have things that I like, and I don't want to stop using them, in other words.

But, it's time to say good-bye to a dear old friend. I bought this Altoids tin in a disgusting gas station somewhere between Las Vegas and Laughlin. I don't even really like Altoids, but I saw it at the counter, and thought, "that would be great for knitting notions!"

And that was back in the day, before I was loud and proud with my knitting. I only knit at home. Alone.

And, it has been great. It's held my mini-scissors, two darning needles (one of which I've had for 15 years, isn't that a record!) many, many stitch markers and point protectors.

That dear tin has been a very good friend.

But lately, I've been stuffing it so full that the lid is popping off the hinges, and no matter how much I try, the lid keeps popping out.

So, seeing the future, I stopped in at Sugar Mountain, on my way to seeing a Fringe play, and looked for a souvenir. I don't buy "merchandise", but wanted a memento.

I bought a minty tin:We will be very good friends. And every time I look for my darning needle or a stitch marker, I will be reminded of Bloodless: The Trial of Burke and Hare, by White Rabbit Productions.

New notions tin, I hope we have a long and happy life together.

The same cannot be said for the new keyboard. I am unimpressed with the size of the backspace key (which is employed frequently).

I don't know what's gotten into me

2010-02-13T10:10:00.003-06:00

but I love it.

This morning, I got busy and cleaned out the closet in my office. It's behind the door, so it's annoying to get to. Therefore, it holds purses, shoes and other random junk that is used too frequently to live downstairs.

Before:

After:

If this trend continues, maybe I will finish removing the wallpaper and actually paint this office. It's only been 3 1/2 years

A shift in domestic relations

2010-02-11T21:19:00.003-06:00

So, Edgar.

He's been here for eight months now. I ran into Brucie a few weeks ago, and informed him that Edgar is mine now.

Brucie grudgingly agreed.

Edgar still spends most of his time in the basement. He no longer hides out in the crawlspace, but is instead curled up on a box of empty wine bottles (and I stuck a blanket on top of the box, because I felt sorry for the poor fellow).

Occasionally, he comes up of his own volition, but I also go down and bring him upstairs.

I had a brutal week last week, so I bailed on most of my plans for this week. Therefore, Edgar has been spending lots of time upstairs. He sits on my desk, while I surf Ravelry and knit. He even curls up on the scanner and snoozes sometimes.

The routine has been that I go to bed, and shortly thereafter, Parker chases him downstairs. It's not pleasant.

Tonight was different. It is Thursday, which is usually date night (meaning that Mustache Man makes me dinner, at his place, and we have a co-ed sleepover) but he has other stuff going on, and I am exhausted. So, I am at home, watching my stories and knitting. Edgar and I were sitting on the sofa watching Grey's Anatomy. Parker was on the other loveseat, sending the two of us dirty looks.

I got up to go to wring out some hand-washing after the program, and then sat down here at the computer.

I heard a scrap, and thought for sure that Edgar was being chased to the basement.

Nope. He was still in the living room, and Parker had scattered.

And just now, Edgar pranced out of the living room and waltzed to the back door to be let out. Parker moped after him.

It's about time Edgar gave as good as he got!

Mini B turned 4 today.

2010-02-07T21:04:00.005-06:00

Where does the time go? I am very ashamed to say this, but it seems like just yesterday, when I met my dad for dinner, on the day of your birth and said "Hello, Grandpa!"

And Papa Barry, as he is now known to you, stood up a little straighter, and well, preened. Just like the rest of us, Mini, he'd been waiting for you.

Mini B, you are an engaging, fun, busy girl. You like tractors, you like princesses, you like changing your clothes, you like playing the drums. You are a girl with a strong personality, and I hope you don't lose that (though I am sure your parents wish you would tone it down a little).

I just spent the better part of 24 hours in your home, and for the record, I'm going to quickly record some of our interactions. If I am lucky, I will share these at some future event:

"Hi Auntie Mister!"

"Mini B, that's Auntie Misstea."

"Hi Auntie Mister!"

I couldn't correct you. Your Uncle J called me "Mister" for a good two years.

At four, your favourite word still appears to be "no." This is amusing, because your parents, before you could even speak, decided that "stop" and "danger" would be the words they would use to rebuke you. Their logic was that those two words were too hard for you to say, and therefore you would not throw those words back at them.

Well, I think that was wishful thinking. You know "no", and employ it frequently. Good job, kid.

However, you are a shouter. When you want something, you holler. It's a sound that doesn't even have syllables. It's just nasty.

When you wanted to get over the baby gate last night, you made that nasty sound. I happened to be closest.

So, I took the bull by the horns, and said, "Well, I'm not your parent, but where I come from, Mini B, that's really rude, and we don't speak to people that way."

You looked at me for a moment, thought about it, and then bellowed "Open!"

And, I looked at you, and said, "That's better, but that's still not what I am looking for."

And in the background, your parents were coaching you, "say please, Mini B", "remember your manners!" I have a feeling that Granny was laughing her ass off around the corner.

You stood up even straighter. Squared your shoulders. And said, with a ever-suffering voice, "Please, open!"

So, I opened the gate. And you flounced through and went on your merry way.

It was hysterically funny. Don't ever lose that expectation that doors will open for you. If you use your manners (and trust me, it works).

You were surprised to see me the following morning, because I left before you went to bed. We (your parents and I) neglected to inform you that we were having a sleep-over. A sleep-over with a bonus guest You were a little bit stand-offish with my friend for a few momehts, but it didn't take you very long to get all bossy, telling her where to sit, before she even had a cup of coffee. You are very lucky that Mamayaga loves kids, and liked playing along with you.

All in all, it was a lovely morning. However, you need some boundaries, girl.

I went downstairs to have a bit of a wash and get out of my jammies. I grabbed my stuff, and headed into the downstairs bathroom. Since the basement is basically your playroom, I didn't think I needed to pay attention to you. Until you opened the bathroom door. Thankfully, I was brushing my teeth.

You just wanted to talk, and that was awesome, because that's the kind of relationship I hope to have with you, but still, not knocking. Not cool. So, given that information, you closed the door, and I continued on with my ablutions. You knocked about a nanosecond later. I said, "open!"

I was going for broke. I had no idea how your parents felt about nudity, but, you knocked. Right when I was about to change my shirt.

I whipped off my t-shirt that I wear at night, and you said, "you've got boobies!"

And yes, it deserves bold, because at that exact moment, your father, my little brother, was hollering "it is ok for me to come in?"

I said yes, well, to both questions. In retrospect. I've never put my clothes on so fast in my life. OK, that's an exaggeration, but Mini B, you are not going get the details about that other situation for a very long time. If ever.

But anyways, you simply didn't care that your Auntie's boobies were hanging out and your daddy was in the same space (it's a very large basement, with lots of walls, for those who are playing along).

You are a smart, strong, confident girl. The things that drive your care-givers crazy right now are things that will make you an amazing woman. Go forth and be yourself Mini B.

And I will laugh myself silly. Because you are exactly like your father was when he was your age. I love the both of you to bits.

Sometimes, a girl has to remember her roots

2010-02-01T22:54:00.006-06:00

I'm on a Corb Lund kick tonight, and this song... well, it's about more than horses.

Hmm. Mustache Man loves horses, but I don't think he would get the nuances of this song. I think we could have an amazing discussion about this. And, anything would be a relief from the Barry White Greatest Hits I gave him for Giftmas. I am sooo sick of that album.

I thought they liked me

2010-01-31T16:37:00.002-06:00

The cats have not left my side today. Even Edgar is yowling from downstairs, and comes up of his own volition occasionally.

I thought that it was because they were happy I'm at home, and available for snuggling on the sofa (knitting and watching Julie & Julia this morning with my coffee. Good times).

Nope. I'm totally wrong. See, last week I bought some high-end cat food instead of the usual value-priced stuff (the high-end stuff was on sale for a ridiculously good price).

The buggers want to eat. All. the. damned. time. I'm just the person who pours the food into the dishes.

This is a very special weekend

2010-01-30T22:19:00.002-06:00

in that I am at home. Alone. No co-ed sleepovers, no phone calls every couple of hours, just because (Mustache Man is out of town, and though I miss him greatly, I'm thrilled to be just chilling out on my own).

It's heavenly.

Yesterday, I cleaned my bathroom from top to bottom, including washing the ceiling and walls (long overdue, by the way).

I was so pleased with myself that every time I peed today, I opened the vanity drawers, just to look inside.

Yes, I am a dork.

Tonight's project was to go through the chests of drawers in my bedroom. I have two. One is an old-school washstand, and functions as my bedside table, and the other is well, a chest of drawers. It holds my underwear, t-shirts, shorts, jeans, well, anything that doesn't need to be on a hangar, and the bedside table holds my jewellery, the hot-water bottle, a spare blanket, and certain other bedroom accessories (if you know what I mean, and I think you do!).

It was a tough job, throwing out all those stained and too-tight t-shirts saved for painting that I will never do; the nude panty-hose I will never wear because it's better to go bare-legged now; the thongs that I will never wear because I refuse to floss my butt, the PJ's I will never wear because well, I've worn them so much that the fabric has disintegrated.

Onward. Upward. Tomorrow: kitchen. But only the upper part. Cleaning the kitchen is a very big job, especially when there's excessive grease residue from cooking bacon.

But before I start that project, I'm totally cooking bacon and eggs tomorrow. For one. And, it will be great.

Skinny sticks and skinnier string

2010-01-28T20:47:00.003-06:00

It is common knowledge, among my knitting peeps, that the skinnier the sticks and string, the happier I am.

There is a reason I knit mostly socks - skinny sticks and string are required.

But. I do have a favourite "big" needle size. It is 4 mm. That's right, a big needle, to me, is 4 mm in circumference.

I also have a favourite super-skinny string. It is Malabrigo Lace (#242, Intenso. Scroll down). A dreamy, heavenly, super-soft single that knits up into a lacy, airy wave that you'd think you were knitting a cloud (if clouds were hot pink and orange, that is).

So, when my peeps on LSG suggested a knit-a-long for the Geodesic Cardigan in the most recent Knitscene, well, I'm in.

How cute is this? It's adorable!

I've got the yarn and the needles. I need a cardigan.

(P.S. I started swatching tonight).

The downside of co-ed sleepovers

2010-01-24T13:47:00.004-06:00

As I've stated repeatedly in the last four months, I've done got me a man. And while I am annoyed at myself for taking as much joy in this as I have, I'm not really sad about it, and am wholly unprepared to change the situation as it now stands. I'm even getting used to talking about him incessantly, because it's been so long since there's been a man in my life worth talking about. Someone that I like, respect, and who only annoys me a little. To be honest, I even kind of miss him when he's not around.

There is a downside. I'm home even less than usual. Chez Peepee is missing me, and I miss it. Today, I arrived home, after scooting out for a booty call at 9 pm last night, to find my newly finished lace scarf, one 16 months in the making, on the floor, and covered in cat barf. I haven't even taken the FO pics, and here I am, blocking it again. Stupid cats. At least it wasn't poop.

So, I got some shit the other day

2010-01-20T18:59:00.002-06:00

My dearest friend N, told me in no uncertain terms the other day to get back at blogging.

So, I am.

Since I stopped documenting my projects, I've made six pairs of socks, two-and-a-half sweaters, a hat and finished a shawl. I've uploaded the pics to Flickr, and I might get those up on Ravelry. Maybe.

The most important thing, however (and it makes me sort-of sad to say that this is important - what has happened to me?) is that Mustache Man referred to himself as "your partner" the other day.

The bugger is listening to me! He's heard and understood that I despise the word "boyfriend."

I've found a man that listens! Holy shit, he's been proposing since our second week of acquaintance, and I've been blowing him off, because it is way, way too early for that. But still, listening is an attractive quality in a man.

Go here. Download this NAO!

2009-12-13T02:23:00.002-06:00

This is the prettiest song I've heard in forever, and I just learned who the performer is yesterday.

For a downloadable version (and better sound quality), go here: http://www.reverbnation.com:80/ericnicholas

And then, go buy his latest album. I'm going to. And not just because I'm in a romantic frame of mind, these days. Local music needs local dollars.

Three score and ten

2009-12-09T21:35:00.004-06:00

I just got off the phone with my father.

He turned 70 last Friday, and was waxing poetic about the things he'd achieved in his life. He said he hoped for a few more years, as long as he could take care of himself.

I told him to fuck the bible, and Abraham Lincoln. I need at least 20, if not 30 more years with my dad. I'm not ready.

Then we talked for a bit more; poor dad, it must suck to talk to your daughter, who is exactly like your father (ooh damage; can we get a hell, yeah!).

Happy belated birthday, Dad. I'll talk to you any time you want. It's even better when Mom isn't around.

In which we are both embarassed

2009-11-18T20:24:00.003-06:00

So. Yeah. He loves me.

Gulp.

The next day, I had to work at my LYS. I was totally, completely prepared to walk, grabbing a coffee (and some breakfast) on the way. I'm a 21st century woman.

He had other plans (did I mention Mustache Man is nine years older than I am? He's pretty old school, in some ways).

I was served coffee, bacon, basted eggs (my favourite!) and toast. It was all pretty good. Even the coffee (I have few domestic skills, but I am good at making strong coffee).

And then he insisted on driving me to the shop. Would not take no for an answer, but needed gas, so we had to leave a few minutes early.

OK. Fine.

Sadly, he ran out of gas about two blocks before the gas station. So, I got out to push (something I have never, ever done, by the way. I've pushed lots of cars because of snow, because of ditches, but never because of lack of petroleum).

Mustache Man was mortified. But, I chose to be good-spirited about it, and thought it was an excellent way to work off the above-mentioned bacon and hash browns.

Until we turned into the gas station and I turned to wave thanks to the vehicles behind us.

It was a mixer truck. Not one of Construction Inc's, but a related party. I damn near died of embarrassment. I've busted my ass for two years to be taken seriously as a manager, and then I'm waltzing down a major city street, pushing a car? I was not pleased. But, at the same time, I could totally see the humour.

Got to the shop at 12:59. My shift started at 1 pm.

Introducing Mustache Man

2009-11-17T23:11:00.003-06:00

I floated through work that Tuesday. I freely admit that I was not firing on all cylinders. I floated about three feet off the ground, and I could not keep that shit-eating grin off my face. I had that good of a time.

By the bus home from knit night, however, I couldn't stand it anymore. I missed tall, dark, and handsome. So, I texted him, and that made the bus ride far, far more enjoyable than usual. Apparently, he missed me, too.

And much the same thing happened on Wednesday, except he couldn't stand it anymore and texted me. That bus ride home was just fine, and when I was safely ensconced in the house with a glass of wine, I called him.

And we talked. About everything, again, even venturing into politics. We like the same party colours. Whew!

We made arrangements to get together on Friday night.

On Friday night, he had a dinner, and I was at home, talking on the phone, when he called to tell me he was home for the evening. I didn't hang up on my friend, but instead held the land line in my hand as I spoke on my cell.

Apparently, I was all giggly and girlish. Yuck. I hate it when I do that. My friend happened to be sitting on her front step, and as she rang off, saying "Go! Have sex!" a random stranger was walking down the street and nearly tripped. She explained the situation, and then phoned my back to tell me that strangers in another city also want me to have sex. Good to know, I thought.

But, there was a bus in 20 minutes, so I got on it, and when I got off the bus downtown, he was there waiting for me. With his car. Because he didn't want me to walk downtown in the dark. I was completely, utterly blown away, both by his thoughtfulness, and his presumption that I couldn't walk three blocks by myself at 9 pm. However, this was not the time for a lecture, so I concentrated on the romance.

After a quick stop for beer (of course!) it was more of the same... talking, listening to music. Dancing. At one point, he looked straight at me, and said that he wanted to know what was going on... that this was so strange, and so intense, and unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He wondered what would happen.

Well.

I sat up straight, composed myself, and told him, straight out, that I hated to define things, that I disliked labels, because labels are too confining, that I wasn't good at monogamy, or indeed long-term relationships, period. But all that said, I thought that I wanted him to be my boyfriend.

He said that he loved me. And, I've got some serious good karma, because I managed not to laugh. I just said, "I know."

And that was that. Tall, dark and handsome is too long to write, so henceforth, he shall be Mustache Man.

Dating Really Gets in the Way of Knitting

2009-11-14T18:31:00.000-06:00

And blogging, and studying, and cleaning, and laundry, and hanging out with friends, and wine-making.

But not wine-drinking.

Incredibly, I'm not sorry.

Here's the story:

My birthday was the first full weekend in September. A glorious couple of days, where I was privileged to be part of a team competing in a Dragon Boat Festival to raise funds for the Canadian Cancer Society. I'm on a team that is chock full of great people, some of whom have become dear, dear friends. But, because I'm fairly narcissistic, I prefer to think a weekend outdoors with a couple thousand other people is really just a big party in celebration of me.

On the Saturday, my actual birthday, we were all sitting in the beer tent, enjoying wobbly pops, and I saw another friend. We had a big ole reunion, and it was lots of fun. A few minutes later, I saw his girlfriend off in the corner, and ran off to say hello. She was talking to a tall, dark, handsome fellow. Girlfriend and I chatted, I got myself an introduction to this fellow, but went on my merry way, it being my birthday, and I felt the need to be sociable with everyone.

A little while later, I saw tall, dark and handsome dancing across the beer tent, and thought that it was an act that required a certain amount of chutzpah.

Even more later, a teammate and I wandered away from the festivities to have a smoke (duh - this event is in support of the Canadian Cancer Society - we are not assholes) and this tall, dark, handsome fellow wound up in the same spot.

We talked. Team-mate wandered away. We talked some more. And went for a little walk. And maybe did some smooching. And also ducked behind a bush when a former... interested party (with long-lasting butthurt - get over it, all ready!) walked by. It was lovely. He invited me to join him for the evening at his residence. With great regret, I told him that I was beyond the days of going home with random fellows, even if introduced by mutual friends.

Back at the table, the four other people left besides me and I decided to go home. We walked across a bridge, to an entirely different neighbourhood. We had a plan all worked out for the most efficient route for our driver to deliver our drunk asses back to our respective residences. Driver had just started the car, and I said "Fuck it. Take me back. I need to get laid."

Driver indeed drove me back, and he and the three other passengers hooting and hollering all the way. What a birthday.

I found him, and he was thrilled. Absolutely thrilled. We played it cool as the interested party walked by again (would you get over it, please !?!) and went back to the beer tent.

Finished our beer. Decided to go for drinks at the pub. Had an awesome time. We were the only two dancers for the duo playing that night, and I gave solicited advice for catching a man to the young men and women sitting around the place. While he was proudly telling people that he was with me.

We stumbled to his place, thankfully only two blocks away. Also, thankfully, he had beer in the fridge. Not good beer, but beer.

And, believe it or not. We talked. He's a widower, lost his wife to brain cancer two years ago. Has lost two children. One at 12 days old, another at nine years, both to incurable diseases.

I was blown away by his honesty, his still-existing joy about life. He told me flat out that he was looking for a long-term relationship. That he was seeing someone that didn't have long-term potential. That he wanted more children, but realized that he was running out of time.

I told him that I had just promised myself that I was going to finish school by the time I was forty, and that it would be a serious commitment to achieve that goal. That I'd pretty much shut the door on any baby-making and had made my peace with that.

The sex was glorious. We slept for maybe three hours. He walked me back to the festival the next morning, and we were probably still drunk. He carried my backpack for me, because that is what a gentleman does, but he bitched about the weight of it the whole time. In a funny way. We kissed, and went our separate ways.

Thank god it was foggy, and the morning got off to a late start. I needed the time to sober up, because of the whole no-tolerance for alcohol rule.

I got lots of high-fives and good-natured ribbing from the team. Only blushed a little, because I was feeling pretty good. At 10, when things got going, we were down in marshaling, and he was there. Lots of eye-contact, and me elbowing my friends in the ribs, "that's him!"

Turns out, he was steering a boat in our heat. That was epic. We came in second in the heat. Our best result of the festival. Sadly, the third and fourth teams nearly collided. One of those teams was steered by you-know-who. I didn't know what had happened, but I cheerfully told those around me that it was because a certain steers-person was busy looking at me.

I went to the beer tent for some hair of the dog, and around noon, decided to go home, via the marshaling area, a much longer walk. He was so happy that I sought him out. We talked about possibly hooking up at the wind-up party. I told him that I would likely be there, since the wind-up was being held at the watering hole.

Home. Nap. Glorious nap. And shower. Fed hungry cats. On the way to the watering hole - was I going? Yes, on the way. I'll see you then, but I'll have someone with me for a bit.

I had some pints with the boys, my girly pals showed up. It was cool. High-school levels of anticipation and excitement, but cool. The girls left, his guest left, and I joined him at the table with fellow paddlers. Even though Mr. Will-not-let-it-go was there. Mr. Will-not-let-it-go passed me the cup to drink out of, saying I was a paddler, and it was OK. Apparently, I have his blessing? I didn't know, and didn't care to examine it. Girlfriend's boyfriend was also there, and we continued our chat, because we have been friends forever (but meanwhile, he was doing the holy-shit-I-hope-you-know-what-you-are-doing eye conversation with tall dark and handsome over my head. Because I am bad news - we are former lovers. Sigh. He was a lousy lover, btw). Another paddler got up and danced on the table. It was a pedestal table. All drinks went crashing to the ground, naturally. Tall, dark and handsome ordered me another, unaware that the staff are instructed to not pour drinks for me that are not ordered by me.

Hannah looked at me, and I nodded. She winked back.

So, somewhat later, the bar closed, and we sort-of left separately, just to get into a taxi together. Tall dark and handsome did have to have a conversation with my friend... clearly about something different, because he didn't run screaming for the hills.

It was lather, rinse repeat of the night before. More talking. More beer. And more glorious sex.

He called in sick the next morning. I had the day off. I woke him up and told him we didn't want to waste daylight. It was too nice a day, and might be the last one.

So, we got coffees and went for a walk. He reached for my hand... and I didn't mind having it held as we walked down the street. Normally I abhor public displays of affection like that. I think it is immature and unnecessary.

We walked and talked. And, he suggested a drive. So, we drove out of town and had a fabulous lunch over-looking the river. And, talked some more. Then, we got some beer, retired to his place... he asked me to stay the night, again, and he would drive me to my place in the morning so I could get ready for work. I said sure, but I would need to be fed, at some point.

We wound up having a few beers (big surprise, eh?), and then going to a little hole-in-the-wall Thai place. Hardly anybody there. The manager/waitress hovered over us, and bossed us around, and we howled with laughter about how corny and romantic the whole weekend had been. How all signs seemed to indicate that this would be a very fun thing.

Lather, rinse, repeat. More talking. More beer. He called me "Honey" but then thought to ask if it was OK if he did. I said it was OK. More glorious sex. I got dropped off the next morning... and I have never, ever seen such a hangdog look in my life as I did when he asked when we would see each other again. I was vague... perhaps later in the week.

I walked to my house, sore between my thighs, but swinging my hips, because I knew tall, dark and handsome was watching.

To be continued...

Common People

2009-11-06T22:17:00.002-06:00

I'm having a massive brain fart when it comes to writing these days, but, I love this version of this song. It's a couple of years old, but I'm not tired of it. Yet.

When did William Shatner become so camp he's cool. It must have been well after TJ Hooker and Tambourine Man

Where to start?

2009-09-17T22:57:00.004-05:00

This has been one hell of a summer.

I stopped blogging because I was hanging out in my back yard, which is amazing, even though produce from my garden is somewhat lackluster.

But then, stuff happened. Not to me, but to people I care about, and therefore I did what needed to be done, to take care of the people I love (this is not a pity party, by the way) and I am in the fortunate position to be able to take care of people. Not that I excel at it, but I do what I can. And I was glad to do it. Every moment of my heartache that helps someone I love is worth it. Oh, yes it is worth it.

There were family visits, cottage-camping, jazz fest, folk fest, fringe fest, dragonboat fest, a birthday (mine!) and shitloads of knitting. All of it crazy, all of it fun, all of it full of people I love. It was a damn good summer.

And sadly, my camera doesn't talk to my computer anymore, so it's a royal pain in the ass to post photos.

But, now I'm back in school, work is still hell, and... I had sex (oh yes I did! and it was great!) but I'm searching for my new routine. Bear with me.

One of these days I will update Rav with the dozen pairs of socks I've made. I promise. (I wouldn't take that sucker bet, if I were you. It'll be a while).

Remember, you saw it here first!

2009-09-01T09:57:00.008-05:00

I've been waiting for months to get this. I tried to upload it last night, but my computer is so aged that the CD drive doesn't read video files.

This is a clip from my show. I wasn't in Holy Babble, but this is the sketch that was born when I suggested the election of President Obama was like the second coming of Christ.

This song was definitely the highlight of the night:

And the audience loved it so much we had to do it again. Actually, if you listen carefully, you can hear me hollering, because I was right beside the videographer.

I'll post a youtube link when it's uploaded, but I just couldn't wait any longer.

Edit 09/17/09: Youtube link is here.

Carpe Diem? WTF?

2009-07-15T22:32:00.004-05:00

I used to work from 9 AM to 7 PM without a lunch break five days a week, and go into the office for a few hours on Saturday and Sunday, just for fun. Because there was that much work to do, and I loved work that much.

That company wound down operations in 2005, and gave me the severance package that allowed me to buy Chez Peepee. I bounced around for a couple years after that, and two years ago, I found a job that I thought would give me the freedom and ownership I needed to be happy professionally, without that crazy overtime commitment.

Well.

Be careful what you ask for, because you just might get it.

Construction Inc. has been kicking my ass lately, and I'm not sure if it's because I'm off my game or if I'm not ready to play in the old boy's league.

Part of the attractiveness of this job is that I'm good at playing with the old boys. I'm smart, and I'm clever, and I've got the background (farmgirl, FTW!) that lends me the faint whiff of legitimacy I need to have my say. It helps that I tower (physically) over all of our sales people and office staff. In fact, the only people taller than me in the office are the president and the yard manager.

I'm starting to think that's not a coincidence, because I've always been wary of short people - they are feisty and sturdy in their own way.

It's been hell over the past couple months: we rolled out a new software system (thanks for letting me know, assholes) right at year end, the satellites that I need to do inventory are infuriatingly close to the horizon and there are buildings between those satellites and the piles of sand I need to measure. This is how it went:

Me: Please move this pile.

Them: Oh, are you sure you need that? How does that work? By the way, what are you doing with that stuff?... I don't know, we're busy.

Me: Well, I need this because I report to our owners, so please? Pretty please with sugar on top?

Them: Oh, I don't think we have the time.

Me: I don't want to be a bitch, but this is important, I need you do it.

Them: Well, OK, but it'll be real difficult, and we're really busy.

Me: Great. That's really helpful, guys.

Bossman: What she said, and do it now.

Them: Oh, lookee there, it's done all ready.

Me: That's grand. Look at this teamwork. Go us! (and in my inside voice, FUCK YOU assholes!).

That was May month-end. Repeat ad nausea at June month-end with the office staff, except Bossman is copying the president when he replies to my "whiny" emails (because Bossman is my biggest fan, not because he disapproves - he's just all about full disclosure)..

Ten more courses... and I will run the place. I will, and it will be awesome. Is it mean of mean to hope that a few folks retire between now and then?