I am and have been a very in-your-face and abrasive person. I prefer brutal honesty to little white lies. If I like you, I'll say so. If you ask for my opinion, I'll give it to you. I wear rude T-shirts.
But the people I admire have manners. I have some, but the sarcasm gets in the way. People I admire can always find something nice to say, or at least deftly change the subject. People I admire know it's Not All About Me.
I am trying. Quietly, because this isn't something one ought to talk about. It's too easy to throw in my face with "I thought you were trying to be nicer!" when I utter something truly cruel. This is just a project to try and keep trying, because no one achieves grace fully, not in this life without impending sainthood, and I am not trying for that.
Grace is more respecting other people's boundaries. Don't touch someone unless they invite it. Don't help the one person who doesn't want to be helped. Help the person who wants to be helped, if I can. Offer of yourself, and take No for an answer without being offended. Accept that I do not know everything, because nobody does. Accept being wrong as a positive learning experience. Be willing to say No when I know I cannot Do.
This does not ever mean I should roll over and let someone kick me. I must still stand for myself and defend those who need defending. I am a strong woman, and this is important to embrace my strength. But there are ways, and there are ways. I can lose my temper and swing at someone, or I can come with a clever comeback, or if the windmill is too large, I can smile and walk away. But I have to let go of the anger if I'm not going to fight.
I am finally learning patience, which is something I never thought I would.
¶ 12:46 PM
Last week, a certain box arrived, and I took a picture of Tom and Spider admiring the contents: Today I took the box and its contents (after removing the label) to the Animal Care Council shelter in Endicott.
The usual cat inspector decided he approved: But more thrilling to me was the blankets I glimpsed from my last visit, still in use.
¶ 2:41 PM
I know. I knit a lot. I knit a lot of socks. And last year, I knit five shawls. We won't count how many pairs of socks, but it was more than a dozen.
The back falls low enough on my hips, where I like it. I do have to push it up a little to put hands in pockets, but that's rare, and no matter how forward I lean, there is no gapitis between shirt and pants. The sleeves look a little short, but that was planned. I wear gloves to type and constantly push up my sleeves for cooking. What I don't like is the neck roll. The cabling pulls everything in, and the back of the neck stands upright. Now, I did knit on the the ribbed collar, and here's proof:
The color saturation in these photo are deliberately mucked with, because this sweater loves to photograph vibrantly. The back of the color stood upright, and the point of the V was too high from where I wanted it to be. This is very likely because I deliberately knit a size or three too large for me (I knit the largest size possible). So I've taken the ribbing off and did a crochet bind off of the back the neck. Unfortunately it still curls. So I will very likely undo the neck and do a k2 bind off instead, to try to prevent rolling.
While the sweater is tight to my body, it isn't confining, and it has lots and lots of room. I can sit with my knees to my chest under it if I want to. It is warm! and it itches my arms slightly.
I liked doing the knitting. It was an easy pattern repeat to memorize and enough to do where one wasn’t bored with it. This is the perfect first sweater, for what I wanted in a sweater. It is comfy and roomy and long enough where I want it to be. I learned from it and wasn’t bored. I liked this sweater very much.
This rather schizophrenic blog was started as a fictional blog, written by a character of a story. I've since taken it over for writing personal stuff I don't mind sharing with anyone who cares.
I am also writing thoughts about writing and stories that move me.
Anything not marked might be just me, Georg, posting as myself.
It's just this blog, okay? Some of it is story. Some of it is animals. Some of it is knitting. It's a blog.
For story #1, I do recommend starting from the beginning of this blog if you haven't read this before.
Please start at the beginning.
I did mean it to be for http://www.nanowrimo.org - but I never got quite got it done under the wire.
Jeannie is the author/main character.
Frank is her husband. Poor man.
Tony is musician/singer.
Angie is a teenager, who was Jeannie's best friend. Now currently dead.
Honestly, there is no connection between Jeannie and me and Frank and my husband.
Frank and Ether. This will be much weirder than Frank and Jeannie. I like the name Frank. No one expects a Frank to lie.
A desert story. Anna is the main character. Currently there is only her little brother and an old servant, and a mysterious redhead.
The necro story. A young necromancer heads off to the Hated Ones to find her trousseau.