Dear Dear Diary

2012-01-26T13:24:00.002-05:00

My friend Rachel commissioned a shawl design. The requirements are:
1. It must feature a Dragonfly.
2. Minimal beads.
3. Aim for 2600-3000 yards. (she has 3200 yard skeins of Wollmeise she wants to use).
4. She wants the Pattern, so she can knit it herself.

I prefer not to have to purl back, so I thought either square or circular. Besides, these designs usually end up larger than triangular designs. Nor did I have an interest in a horseshoe type, either circular or square with the opening in one of the points (If I ever do something like that, I'd steek, and one really shouldn't steek a shawl, I think).

Here is a Dragonfly pose I want to capture:
I want to center that in each triangle of the square, with a lovely diagonal border stripes. Then, depending on yardage, I may knit a border around the edges. I determined what the cast on will look like for a square.

But first - the Gauge Swatches:

Starting with upper left, going clockwise:
Size 6 needles, 6 stitches/inch, Holiday Yarns Sunset
Size 4 needles, 7 stitches/inch, unknown but same base
Size 5 needles, 6.5 stitches/inch, Holiday Yarns Olive

I've got lots of scraps of lace, and we're going to use them all for this project. I'm going to knit enough of the center to establish patterns, then bind off 3/4, then focus on one triangle, with tons of lifelines. It'll be fun. I've stuck my nose in Barbara Walker's Treasury of Knitting Patterns, and have a few ideas of my own on top of that. But here's what we have so far.

2011-12-09T20:02:00.003-05:00

Someone asked what I felt about Christmas carols. I answered I hated them. They asked why - so I typed this out to them.

It’s the fact that it’s the same bob-damn songs over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and…

And then you have the variations of the same songs, because every new singer has to produce the same damn songs only make them Unique. So the caterwauling is slightly different and you can no longer sing along.

And then inevitably someone greets you with a smile and is so bob damn happy for the season, and you just want to eviscerate them a rusty spork. The commercials yell BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY and if you aren’t a good person, you won’t buy X item for your loved ones. You don’t love them if you don’t buy them this thing. And the guilt of if you really loved your family you’d go see them and buy them this shit and let’s sing another carol to drive the point home and don’t you have plans for the holidays? and haven’t you just fucking consumed enough?

This is why I just want to consume alcohol, turn off all the lights, unplug the phone and crawl under a pile of blankets and not come out until it’s warmer.

FUCK the holidays. There is nothing Holy about them these days. They’re all fucking cursed and can die in a fire already.

That all being said, I am trying to have a better attitude. I'll go spend time with the family this year and be genuinely happy to see them. And truthfully, if it weren't for the holiday, I'd put off visiting. And put it off. And put it off some more. They'll always be there. Until they won't, and I'll kick myself for what I missed.

2011-11-24T05:41:00.002-05:00

Today I am thankful for many things.

I am thankful my family isn't coming here, so I don't have to worry about being trapped by family in my own home. I have car keys. I can leave if I really get pissed off.

I am thankful I have a roof over my head that isn't leaking. I have a new water faucet in the kitchen that doesn't leak. I don't have carpet that smells like years of cat pee. I am thankful for the little changes we have made.

I am thankful I have the funds for my mortgage payment, groceries, and gas.

I am thankful I can breathe. Sometimes this has been in doubt. I can move without needing a wheelchair. Again, sometimes this has been in doubt. I am grateful the cane is optional most of the time.

I am thankful for Max the dog and the cats, Spider, Tiger Tom, and Pepe, and how they make me smile every single day.

And I'm thankful I have a sweetie who loves me very much, even when he's a grumpy stressed out bear.

There will be a World's Dumbest marathon today. I bet we can play a drinking game when we get home. Because then we can relax... and I am so looking forward to that.

2011-10-20T05:19:00.003-04:00

I am petting a cat.

Miss Spider is sitting on my shoulder, her claws digging in ever so slightly in, and she is purring gently.

I am holding my knitting firmly in my left hand. I am racing in the Tour de Sock, and I want to win this round, if I can. It's colorwork and challenging, and I hate this sock already because it isn't finished yet. I've only slept a few hours and will have a nap again later. The sock can wait while I hold her. Some things are more important than winning a sock knitting competition.

Later, Miss Spider goes back to the vet today. They will do blood work to see how she is responding to the thyroid medication, but I'm pretty sure already that she is not responding at all. She is losing her fur and has lost half her body weight. She is at least 19, and my sweetie has had her longer than he has had me. We've decided against surgery because her age and fragile state.

I am composing this blog post in my head for later, when I know I can cry without disturbing her.

I am smiling right now because she is purring and curled up with me.

I am petting a cat.

2011-09-26T04:23:00.000-04:00

2011-09-14T14:25:00.002-04:00

Today I drove to the Binghamton Humane Society on Jackson Street for the first time since the flood. The water line of the flood was obvious if you know what to look for, but the main street nearby managed to stay deceptively dry. Inside the Humane Society, the water clearly rose to a couple of feet.

Fortunately, they have relocated all of the animals to a vet's office in Chenango, and are offering adoptions there while a crew of volunteers come to the shelter to clean. The pile of trash is very large, like most of the businesses and homes I drove by today. The smell is not overwhelming, but it is pervasive, and I associate that smell with the feeling I'll never be clean again.

They had a table out front for donations of things. I added the cat blankets to the small pile of Clorox, pet food, and trash bags. There were other people coming and going while I was there, doing the same. A worker with an air filter mask greeted me and thanked me, and went back to work.

I wish I had more time and a better immune system, so I could join in. I peeked inside. The interior was unrecognizable. There was no sign advertising when they hoped to reopen - it will depend on volunteers cleaning in their spare time. The boarding expense is probably high as well. And the horrible part is that this is only one shelter hit by this flood, and many shelters have been hit worse.

If you're thinking about adopting a pet, now might be a good time - so the shelter doesn't have to pay extra to feed and house that mouth, and they can use the adoption fees for putting things right again.

2011-09-12T16:00:00.000-04:00

There are days when this is all I can focus on. Excuse me, but I have some cat fur to go bury my nose in.

2011-09-02T17:19:00.001-04:00

There are a lot of people mad for the Beekeeper's Quilt and Hexipuffs.

I am not one of them. Here are a couple of mantras to help.

I must not puff. Puff are the mind-killer. Puffs are the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face the puffs. I will permit them to pass over me and around me. And when the puff fad has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the puffs have gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain, with other uses for my left over sock yarn.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the Puffs,
I will fear no Puff: For Yarn is with me;
My needles and my patterns, they comfort me.
Though I knit on other things in the presence of mine enemies;
I will still gladly swap scraps; My cup runneth over.
Surely fiber and yarnshall follow me all the days of my life,
and I will knit what I choose forever.

2011-08-22T19:58:00.002-04:00

This summer, we lost Rascal T. Basset, which is devastating. Less than two weeks later, Tom died in my arms at the vet’s while we tried to figure out what the hell just happened. We noticed that Miss Spider, the last of the original three, was looking poorly, and at the age 19, we realistically can’t expect much more from her. She is getting treatment for her teeth and her hypothyroidism, so maybe she’ll stick around for a bit longer. But that put us at 2 cats and 1 dog, and this is too quiet of a house for us.

I have a friend who runs a local cat shelter called Wildrun. Since her husband left two years ago, she’s been trying to stop running the shelter. And I know some of her adults have been there a long time. I’ve visited the shelter and given cat blankets and catnip toys regularly. And I met Tiger Tom and some of the other cats who live in the Long-term Care room. According to her Petfinder Page, Tiger Tom had lived at Wildrun since at least August of 2005. That’s almost six years in a shelter. That’s too damn long. So we had room at the food bowl, and there was a cat who definitely needed a home. It was a very easy decision, except that we also wanted to take Wings and maybe Bug, and some of the other cats who have been there a long time. But I can’t afford to take them all. I know this, and it’s hard not to. We agreed to take him, even before I dragged Jazz off into the wilderness to meet the cat. Wildrun is almost an hour away by car, not to slight the wonderful no-kill right here in my town.

Susan, the lady who runs the shelter, agreed to arrange for an Exit Vet Visit, which indicated he would need dental work. This was arranged, and it was also arranged that he would recover in the shelter, in familiar territory, where he could be reached and pilled easily if needed. And then Susan brought him here last month on a Sunday. She brought a box from Petfinder that doubled as a hidey hole, where he promptly moved in.

He hid for two days in his box. Then he hid for two days elsewhere in the bathroom, which we declared his safe room. He let me pet him starting Wednesday, in terms of not running away when someone reached for him. But Thursday night, he actually responded to petting, including Rising Butt Syndrome. So we put the baby gate up in front of the Bathroom and opened the door, so he could see the household and still be safe. He stopped hiding in the bathroom. Two days later, the baby gate moved from the bathroom door to the office door. He found places to hide in the office, but also decided that my desk was lovely of an evening or early morning, and he could be petted then. We then took the baby gate down entirely, and everyone came into the office freely, and sniffed out where he hid, and ignored him when he wasn’t hiding. And slowly he hid less, and explored more of the house. The living room we knew would be the hardest room. It’s where the Dog spends his days, as does the Man who gets Excited and Yells things. For a scared cat, both are terrifying. So to sit between Dog and Man is Amazing. There are a few small things it would be lovely to see, but they’re little. We’ve chased him off a kitchen counter. I’ve had to rescue knitting from being chewed. He still hasn’t met the spinning wheel in action. But, he’s home and relaxed, and comes out during the day, and Demands petting. He drools slightly and makes biscuits. He’s a lovely boy.

This is Tiger Tom now:

Welcome to your home, Tiger Tom.

2011-07-16T15:47:00.002-04:00

This is Tiger Tom. Apparently, either I take crappy pictures, or he has a grumpy expression.

It's okay if he has a grumpy expression - I like grumpy cats.

He's rather shy and didn't want much attention from us today. He's going off to the vet on Monday and get a thorough going over. Then Wildrun will deliver him to us Tuesday or Wednesday.

We anticipate he'll get on well with Miss Spider and Pepe. However, he hasn't been dog-tested, so we expect Max to be a gentledog and behave (as he is good with the other cats). We hope Tiger Tom will be a love.

2011-06-14T12:02:00.000-04:00

Sometimes the only way to start plugging a hole in the heart is with some Do Goodery. This is the desk of the Broome County Humane Society, after I piled it with blankets from Tata and Friends.

She explained that these blankets are used to line the cat carriers the cats go into every morning while their cages are cleaned, like this one:

Then when that cat gets to go home, the cat blanket goes home with him, so he has a comfort thing to help him adjust.

This particular blanket, modeled with the help of Butler, was made from squares found in someone's stash after their passing. Butler says they make a comfy blanket, and he'll get to keep it in his cage.

If you want to donate yarn for the cause, email me for more info.

2011-06-09T10:28:00.002-04:00

Last night in the wee hours, Tom didn't want his gushy foods. I thought it odd, but otherwise, he seemed fine. This morning, he was lethargic at best, uncoordinated, and uninterested. We decided we'd be taking him to the vet as soon as they opened. Then he started to pant. By the time we got to the vet, the moment they opened, he was noticeably worse. He died in my arms while the vet was examining him. She said there was a definite mass and nothing we could have done would have likely helped. We've buried him out back.

Tom was the cat we got after Katrina happened. With the huge exodus of pets to Northern shelters, we knew that our local no-kill would want to adopt a bunch of Katrina rescues, so we went there and brought home a cat who had been there a long time. He had one bad eye and a bum leg, and had an ear tip signifying he lived for a time in a feral cat colony managed with TNR. The other ear was feathered from many fights, and he never took much guff from anyone.

Tom never liked dogs much, especially after we babysat a friend's Jack Russel Terror who was fond of attacking all of our cats. Kenya waded in one argument with Tom and the JRT, and since then Kenya and Tom got on okay. The basset and Tom developed an agreement - don't corner Tom and the Basset could keep his nose intact. After one incident where Tom and Pepe cornered Max, the schnauzer and Tom had a non-aggression pact. Pepe and Tom however loved to argue.

Tom did loose all of his teeth while he was with us. We called him our Pirate cat because of the one eye, stiff leg and attitude. He was roughly 12 to 15 years old.

2011-05-11T11:50:00.002-04:00

Rascal T. Basset, Esq.
1994? - May 11, 2011

He loved Paydays, short walks, the woods, Jazz and me. He hated being alone. He had the ultimate dog bed upstairs and down. He didn't play much, but he never needed to. He liked rubs under his chin and to shake his head and shower you with water after having a drink. His head bumps could be lethal weapons. Most importantly, he was loved.

2011-04-20T16:56:00.002-04:00

Today's quote is from elsewhere, but it did me good today.

"This is all I have today. It will just have to be enough."

2011-04-14T09:10:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I think I ought to try a Bacon Challenge. Try to eat at least one piece of bacon a day for a year. I've easily done it for a week and would probably have no trouble at all for a month. But a year might be too much.

The picture is a bacon cinnamon roll. Someone posted this to Ravelry and another to Facebook, with the usual "I bet that's disgusting"/"This is why your fat" comments, and I'm sorry, but I think it looks good. So I tried it. The cinnamon roll dough from the can doesn't unroll neatly. I ended up taking scissors and cutting the circular strips. I also baked the bacon because one needs to heat up the oven anyway and baked bacon just melts in the mouth. I thought it was yummy. I like salty sweet things like dark chocolate with salt. I don't know if I'll bother with the effort though more than once a year at most, if again.

Yes, I've had the dark chocolate bacon bar, and I think it's delicious.

Someone asked me if I could come up with a diabetic/low carb alternative, so I suggested cook the bacon to right before crispy stage, dust lightly with cinnamon, and roll up with cream cheese. The easiest way is to cut a 1/4 inch slice of cheese off the block. I am probably going to have this for lunch next week. One could skewer that with toothpicks and serve at parties.

I got tired of apologizing for my bacon love when I came up with bacon curry. I realize how offensive that probably is to the originators of curry, but it tastes so good. I probably should not call my curry as actual curry, but I have no other name for it. Dice then fry the bacon. Add chopped onion and potato (or left over rice from that Chinese place if it's around - couscous or rice I think is supposed to be more authentic). When that's mostly cooked, I dust with tumeric, cumin, cinnamon, red and white pepper, hot and smoky paprika, ginger, and anything else that moves me. I have to avoid the cardamon because of GI reactions. Add a can of coconut milk or a thing of yogurt, or just a cup of cream- depending on what's in the house. Let it cook down a bit. One could not cook the rice in and serve on top of rice or couscous instead of mashing it all together, but I like it mixed.

I also love wrapping meat with bacon in the oven or the crock pot. I posted how to pork a turkey before.

2011-03-30T12:46:00.002-04:00

Learning Grace

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.

2011-03-15T14:41:00.005-04:00

Today is Adopt the Internet Day, a Petfinder initiative to get more pets adopted. Just think about it.

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.

2011-03-03T11:41:00.004-05:00

I have finally knit a sweater.

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.

2011-01-11T02:01:00.003-05:00

I finished and gifted my Kissmoose knitting, so here's a few photographs.

The Dead Fish Hats for my brother's three kids. Amongst the rest of the chaos, nobody noticed these, but I hope they like them.

After the Shawl Sprint I did late summer/early fall, I felt I could still do more knitting for Kissmoose, so I decided to knit for my parents too.

Here's Max modeling a moebius cowl I knit for my da. I wonder if I should knit Da a Klein bottle hat for next year? Or just a small one for a tree ornament? Stylistically, it's not his kind of hat.

I liked the other Vortex I knit this year so much that I decided to knit one for my mom too. Only this one is without beads and is made from cotton, so mom can stick it in the washing machine with no ill effects. She was genuinely delighted.

I've gone back to the socks since. I've needed to go back to socks, if you ask my wardrobe department. I think I'd like to finish the first half of the year with no knitting on the needles that I started the year with - which means finishing or frogging Eleanor of Toledo, and the current pair of protégé socks. I've already finished the Frenchman's Creek socks that have tormented me for two years. And the Topiary Scarf has been stuck since my 40th birthday... so I'd better work on that some more too!

2010-12-17T18:47:00.003-05:00

Every Monday, I have lunch with a friend in a little diner downtown. It's a classic used to be a railroad diner car with the kitchen added on, in a poor neighborhood, so the food has to be good and cheap and plenty. There is a wide variety of clientele, from the cops to the unfortunate to the senior citizens in their once pristine furs, to people like myself and my friend who try to squeeze a good nosh and natter into a lunch hour.

But last Monday, we had something I hadn't seen before, Santa Claus came for lunch. He had natural long white hair and a real beard, and the suit was old-fashioned with little bells sewn on. It might have even been real fur trimming those cuffs. My friend commented on the gloves - the only serious discord of his outfit- they were black. I quipped that made it easier to handle the coal.

Santa greeted a few of the patrons by name, certainly the servers. So I assumed he was usually a regular there, and just happened to enjoy walking around in the suit. But I don't know. He certainly looked through you than at you, when he greeted you. And he did walk around and greet everyone. He told everyone to be good, and then he left. Without even getting food or coffee.

Now, I did make my usual snotty comment that is a bad habit when told to be good. I say I'd rather be Georg, or I like being Naughty. But Santa smiled at me, and left the diner.

Later, when I left the diner myself, there were more than the usual opportunities to do good deeds - the lady in the electric wheelchair who needed eggs from the fridge, letting the handicapped plaque car have that fantastic spot near the front (that wasn't flagged as handicapped), and several other things. I took the chances as they came, and I spread happy thoughts, and I felt good about it. Normally, shopping this close to Christmas leaves me in nothing but snarls and a cloud of foul mood surrounds me, and I come home exhausted and grumpy and just not fit for company. Not this time though.

I blame Santa. In the best possible way.

2010-09-03T16:40:00.003-04:00

Happy kitties investigate Do Goodery.

(Endicott no-kill shelter)

2010-08-28T07:24:00.000-04:00

A fairy tale

Once upon a time, there lived two sisters as alike as night and day. The older sister felt since she was born first, she deserved everything first, from the first fruits of their garden to the first pick of men of the village. There weren’t too many of these, as it was a small village, but the older sister got very upset whenever the younger sister spoke to any of them. The older sister got her first pick of chores too, and one day sent off the younger sister to gather firewood.

The younger sister didn’t mind this task on a fine day like today. She went for a long walk, thinking to avoid her sister and pick up wood on the way home. In one clearing she never noticed before, she found a dry patch of flowers, and a well nearby. So she drew water from the well and watered the flowers, and had a drink herself. One of the flowers bloomed right before her eyes, and out stepped a little fairy.

“Since you have been kind to my flowers,” said the little fairy, “I will be kind to you.” And the fairy touched the younger sister’s hand with her wand, and then vanished.

The younger sister thought that was rather odd, but said thank you anyway, and walked home, gathering firewood as she went. She soon returned to their cottage and stacked the wood where it belonged. She finished the rest of her chores, and went to tell her sister.

Her older sister was trying to flirt with one of the most attractive men of the village, the blacksmith’s son. He was also likely to become one of the richer young men of the village, as a blacksmith is never poor. She was trying to flirt, because he wasn’t really paying much attention to her at all. He was known for his good humor and kind eyes, and knew the older sister wasn’t.

The younger sister clenched her hands in fists, and tried not to want to hit her sister. But she noticed her hand wasn’t empty any more. She opened her hand and found a rather large ruby in it. She put the ruby in a pocket, and made a fist again. This time, she found a large amethyst. The fairy, it would seem, had given her the ability to summon fine gemstones at will.

Unfortunately, she discovered this in front of her sister, who noticed what she was doing when the blacksmith’s son smiled at the younger sister. The older sister demanded to know what was going on immediately. So the younger sister had to tell her about the well and the flowers and the fairy. The older sister ran off to the forest without even saying goodbye to the nice young man.

The older sister found the flowers, which appeared dry again, and the well. She had a drink from the well first, since she was thirsty from her long run, and then dumped bucket after bucket of water all over the clearing, trampling many of the flowers in the process. When the fairy appeared, the older sister demanded a reward better than the one her sister got.

“Such rudeness!” said the little fairy. “But I will reward you with what you deserve.” And the little fairy touched the older sister’s lips with her wand, and then vanished.

The older sister immediately ran back to the place where the blacksmith’s son was now chatting up the younger sister. “I too have seen the fairy!” the older sister said, and then gasped in horror as bugs appeared with her words, coming from her lips. Moths and beetles flew from her lips. “Oh my! What the heck has happened to me! Make it stop!” And more bugs appeared. She screamed, and a cockroach crawled away.

“You had best not say a word,” suggested the younger sister. But the older sister was too freaked out and ran off screaming again, trying to run away from the bugs.

The blacksmith’s son asked the younger sister out on a date, and things went rather well for them.

2010-08-05T10:21:00.001-04:00

I haven't blogged, because most of what I want to blog/write about will reflect badly on other aspects of my life, including my beloved's job working with a political candidate. So I'm not talking about it.

Occasionally I have helped him out though - including this weekend at the Spiedie Fest and Balloon Rally. I got to spend an hour blowing up helium balloons and then handing them out to everyone. For every kid in a stroller who had a balloon tied on by a doting parent, I handed one out to an adult who walked away smiling. A few confessed they hadn't held a balloon in years. And even if they didn't take a balloon, they smiled back at me and enjoyed the moment - a warm sunny day in the summer, a festival crowd, and a handful of balloons with a shared smile.

Pure joy.

2009-12-30T14:53:00.001-05:00

How to pork a turkey:

I got the turkey breast with the bones in, so there's a cavity for stuffing and skin still on the bird. The tenderloin is the long round piece of meat, about 2 x 4 size, and close to a foot long or less.

Prepare the stuffing - take about 6 slices of bread and toast them. Then rip as finely as you like. Melt half a stick of butter and pour over the toast, tossing well. Then make a cup of boullion or use your favorite stock, preferably bird, but ham stock works well too. Put a little in the stuffing and mix until moist. Note: This is only enough stuffing for Two people who don't mind the sharing. I could eat it all myself, but then I'd miss out on the meats.

Preheat oven to 325F.

Unwrap the bird and rinse well. Unwrap the loin and rinse well. See how well it crams into the big cavity. My bird had the ribcage cut which helped a lot. If the loin has a fat side, put that side facing out. Put this bird in a pan large enough for it all, pork side down. There is another cavity on the top, where the neck used to be. Stuff this with the stuffing. (If there was room around the pork, stuff there too, but I didn't have any room). Pour the rest of the stock in the pan. If you are a vegetable eater, add carrots and onions and maybe potatoes or cauliflour around the bird, but only if you like them mushy. Now get out the bacon. Place strip after strip on the breast, slightly overlapping each piece until you can't see skin. Have more bacon left? Put it on top. Go the other direction for a little if you want. But the important thing is to make sure all ends of the bacon do not hang over the lip of the dish, so the grease falls into the pan.

Cover lightly with tin foil and bake about two hours. Then you can take off the tin foil and check every half hour or so to see if the internal temperature of the bird is 165 yet. Once it's there, roll the bird over and stick a thermometer in the pork and check that temperature too - it also ought to be 165 or better. I ended up rolling the bird for the last half hour anyway, so more of the boob could cook in the juice. Half way through the cooking time, pieces of the bacon will be obviously done. Feel free to eat them. This is your price for cooking. Nom, nom!

Once the meat is all 165, take it out of the oven and let it rest for 15 minutes. This lets you take all the potatoes out and mash them up if you want. Or prepare any other side dishes. Carve and enjoy!

2009-10-23T11:29:00.003-04:00

This blog is going back to schizophrenia, fiction mixed with personal thoughts.

I am moving the knitting content over to here: Georg's Thing, and will make more of an effort to update that every week.

This blog will be updated when and if the spirit moves me, and is just going to go weird like it started out as.

2009-09-10T09:18:00.004-04:00

Another day on the lake:

Loon42 to Control Tower. Come in Control Tower. Requesting clearance for take off.

This is Control Tower. You're cleared for take off. There's no other bird for hundreds of yards.

Roger Control Tower. This is it. I'm taking off...

Or... maybe not.

2009-08-31T13:19:00.002-04:00

Dear Giant/Weis Markets (a grocery store for those not local):

I have been a loyal customer of Giant for about 10 years now. You have carried most of my favorite brands and have lots of workers that I have become friends with over the years. True, I have to buy some groceries at the two other stores in town (Wegmans or Price Chopper) because you haven't carried everything I like to have on hand. But I have done the majority of my shopping at the Giant every Monday morning for one reason only - the Giant has never had a shopping club card. If an item was on sale, it was actually On Sale and there was nothing extra necessary to make it so. No coupons, no cards, no gimmicks. I loved and respected that about the Giant, and preferred to give this company my money because of this fact.

This week, this changed, and my local Giant became a Giant-Weis store, and there was one of my friends who is a line manager there offering to sign me up for a shopper club card. I was Not Happy, but I did sign up. Because if I don't sign up, nothing that normally would be on sale would be on sale for me, and I like saving money as much as the next person. Then I went into the store, and of course, there had to be some rearranging done, or else we would not know it's a new store. The signage of course also had to be different. But these are minor annoyances. But then I started noting little things that the Giant normally carries, that you don't. Like the bacon bits I like, the Gyro kits, and Adirondack Lemon-Lime Seltzer. Or any lemon-lime seltzer for that matter. I should mention that I was very proud I got off of drinking regular soda and diet soda by drinking lemon-lime seltzer all the time. There's less chemicals and calories and it's inexpensive. This is what I normally drink, about a liter and a half a day. Every Day. And now you don't have it. The sodas that I will drink have also gone up in price, when I loved the fact they were 99 cents for a 2 L bottle at the Giant for a very long time. This was not the only increase in price on items I regularly buy. Sure, prices for groceries have gone up overall for the past six months since the rise in gas prices, but the prices did not go up that far at Price Chopper or Wegmans. But I chose not to shop at Price Chopper or Wegmans, because they have shopper club cards.

So now you have the shopper club card, your prices have gone up, and you don't carry my favorite drink. I'm beginning to wonder why the heck I ought to go to your store ever again.

Fuck you, Weis. Fuck you.

2009-08-24T09:30:00.001-04:00

Some of us are having way too much fun with that squirrel.

This is where you can play with a squirrel too.

2009-08-18T15:37:00.002-04:00

Once upon a time, I played a computer online role-playing game called EverQuest, and I played it pretty hard core for more than three years. I used to read forums and gaming stories related to that game, and one that caught my eye most referred to a guild called Seibwen Dekan. Yes, that's right, Naked Newbies written backwards. There was a great deal of role-playing back story related to the name, but it all boiled down to an essential philosophy I like to hold dear today.

We're all Naked Newbies when we start, and under our clothes and skill sets, we're all still newbies. We face something new every day. Because of the way the world is right now, our only constant IS change, so there's always something new to do, something to learn, something to discover. The other side of the coin of learning is teaching - sharing what you know with other people, because they are now standing where you were, and helping just feels good.

I embrace my newb-ness. I celebrate the learning and the seeking of things I do not know. I have resolved to help others along the path wherever I can- whether I perceive them as ahead of me or behind, they too will have something to learn, and in turn, something to teach. I love going to beginner classes, because I will always learn something new and I will always have an opportunity to share what I know. This is who and what I am. I am a newbie.

2009-08-16T11:43:00.002-04:00

If you find yourself with several hours (or just one hour at a time) of sitting in front of the computer and would like some thought provoking entertainment, I suggest watching all or some of the James Burke Playlist on YouTube. It's great to knit to. It makes me wish I had a stronger light on my desk, or I was working on a brighter colored sock.

2009-08-11T15:39:00.000-04:00

And some days, Jazz actually wonders why I don't like politics.

2009-07-30T18:40:00.002-04:00

Why bull terriers should not be left alone with small children:

Markers aren't always washable.

2009-07-18T12:23:00.003-04:00

One of the Fun Things To Do this summer includes spinning for the Tour De Fleece - a spinning event that runs concurrent with the Tour de France every summer. The idea is to find something that would challenge you personally, and try to achieve that goal during the three-week Tour. I have now been spinning a year, so why not try to do an achievable goal? I have friends who are also participating, which helps in the fun.

My friend Abby Franquemont is directly responsible for my wheel, so when she formed a team, I had to join in. Her team is called Team Suck Less, and that's the goal, one must by the end of the tour Suck Less. Oh, and you have to spin a mile in a day by the end of the tour. I'm not that good at production spinning - the most I have spun in a day is perhaps 500 yards (if I spun an abby batt and navajo plied it to about 125 yards which means three ply worth of singles and then the plying job in a day, which is exhausting for me). So I made the comment, can I just walk a mile while spinning? And Abby said, "You define the mile." So I vowed to walk a mile while spinning, and try very hard to Suck Less at spinning, and joined the team.

Today, Heather and I picked up our spindles and some silk and headed to the local high school track.

Here we are!

and we're walking

I dropped my spindle a few times more than Heather did. We had to stop and untangle at least once. We got lots of odd looks for spinning in public, and we walked on the outside edge of the track not to disturb the serious joggers. It's very hard to hold a spindle in motion and operate a camera at the same time. But we did succeed.

Just me

And I suck less. :)

2009-07-12T10:51:00.003-04:00

This is the beauty that is life at Camp in the early morning before anyone is up:

This is how I'll always remember my da:

2009-07-09T18:10:00.002-04:00

In case you aren't aware of the Doings of the Sock Knitting World, and most of the readers of this blog just know me, there is a major event coming soon the first week of August that is being hosted by the Yarn Harlot and Tina of Blue Moon Fiber Arts called Sock Summit. This event is new this year, and seems to be Shangrilah for them what knits socks. They have acquired for teachers simply amazing people and all of the classes sold out within 24 hours of registration opening. This is not stopping people from planning to go and hang out in the merchant area or sit around and discuss socks and knit socks and meet other sock knitters internationally.

The sheer fact that such a convention will exist means I have to carry a mop around me when I think of it, because of course I'm going to drool. Realistically, looking at my budget, it won't happen at all, and I'm comfortable with that. Really.

We have a place on Ravelry for the store and the Tsarina's Flock to discuss things related to our Sock company where I am the Tserf and general office grunt. Now, the business is going to the Sock Summit - both the Tsarina/Lisa and Gwynivar/Jen will go and run the booth and sell sock yarn and tsock kits. Naturally, they have asked if I will be there too. I have foolishly stated that if the company does $5000 in sales between TODAY, July 9, and when Gwynivar leaves for the Sock Summit (probably August 3ish), then they will take me along too. What amazed me was that Gwynivar and the Tsarina have both agreed to this.

So, while the odds are Slim to None of this happening, I'll keep you posted. For those actually interested in helping this happen, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

2009-06-24T14:44:00.003-04:00

Dear Mrs. Sanford:

I realize this is probably going to be a very rough time for you, and I'm sympathetic in that regard. I am writing to you to thank you for having a spine. Thank you for not doing the walk of shame at the press conference to tell the world that while yes your husband has been naughty, you will still stand by your man because he's in politics. Thank you for saying fuck that shit and slapping his ass with a legal separation. You go girl. Show your boys that it's not okay to cheat so they can be real men when they grow up and not dicks.

2009-06-14T19:12:00.002-04:00

Dear Vein and Laser Center of Central New York:

Your radio commercials creep me out.

No college-age daughter would brag to her parents that she's had all of her hair lasered off on her legs, under arms and bikini line. Not unless she wants her mother to think she's working the pole when she's not at school - because there's no other realistic way for a young adult to pay for the procedures when the bank of mom and dad are coughing up for school. Granted, she could have found some sort of sugar-daddy arrangement who has decided to fork over the dough, but we could debate if being an expensive whore is better than dancing on the pole.

I also don't care how much of a sasquatch dear old dad is - I don't think he's going to want mom to schedule his appointment either.

As for your actual target demographic - oh yes, I can see where getting rid of my chin hairs permanently might have an attraction, but I don't really want them mentioned in the same conversation as my daughter's bikini line.

2009-06-11T05:24:00.003-04:00

Knit furmiliation is fun. This is not our dog or my knitting, but I had to share it anyway.

Max says, "How you doing?"

2009-06-10T16:25:00.002-04:00

Have you heard of the National Marrow Donor Program? This is a database almost anyone can join and you might be able to save a life.

Right now, June 8 - 22, registration is free and the usual $50 fee for a test kit is waived. So now, you don't have an excuse not to sign up.

2009-06-09T12:29:00.002-04:00

Sometimes it's nice to do a selfish thing to help someone out.

Piddleloop, a Ravelry friend, is selling knitting bags and accessories this week for the benefit of another Ravelry friend - we all have bassets in common. Our mutual friend, Amymacbeth, lost Hannah yesterday, after emergency splenectomy to try remove a cancerous mass. But now she's stuck with more than $3k of vet bills, and she doesn't have the cash. She's selling pottery on eBay, but I can't find a link to that.

Here's a pic of Hannah:

She loved cottage cheese and stealing Kleenex.

2009-06-05T16:32:00.002-04:00

Politically commentary for the week:

2009-06-04T05:40:00.001-04:00

Because some lols are too perfect not to share.

2009-06-01T12:19:00.003-04:00

More spinning:

This:
(which is black-faced liecester dyed in Deep Blue Sea colors by Gale's Art)

Has been turned into this:

It's navajo plied and unfortunately very over twisted. I tried for a more uniform ply, but I am still pretty new at this sort of thing. I may have plied in the wrong direction too. It's very springy, even after drying with a weight hanging from it. 243 yards, 4 oz. That puts it close to Aran/DK weight, and yes, I have no idea what to do with it. I had lots of offers for it at the event Saturday - or more correctly, I had people tell me I could sell it as an "art yarn" for big bucks, but no one actually offered me any money. I think it's lovely.

Next on the wheel is an abby sock batt. Yum.

2009-05-26T22:10:00.001-04:00

Starbucks is apparently stopping making their coffee liqueur. I'm fine with that, but I have friends who will cry. Here's a recipe if you're someone who may miss it.

How to make your own:

Either start with Starbucks coffee - go get a tall- or get a regular coffee anywhere else.

If you start with a regular coffee from anywhere, take 12 oz of coffee and put in a sauce pan. Boil it until you have about 8 oz. This should give you the burned flavor of Starbucks coffee. Add about 1/4 cup of sugar or three tablespoons, more or less according to your taste. Stir until dissolved. Then allow it to cool. Add about 4 to 6 oz of cheap vodka. Put in a bottle you can seal well. Let it sit more than 24 hours. Shake before serving. Enjoy.

If you start with actual Starbucks coffee, you can skip the boiling it down part of the directions. To me, Starbucks coffee tastes like it’s been left on the burner an hour or three more than it’s supposed to.

2009-05-18T08:37:00.005-04:00

Stuff I've been working on...

Not Bacon socks for Abby F.F.

This is two straps on the inkle loom - the red is for Nufflebutt (she says she wants to use it for her spinning wheel) and the yellow will be for my SCA protégé. The toe is yet another toe for Gwynivar. The purple grey sock and a half are another pair for Abby, out of her homespun. The grey stripes is one sock in Opal's Harry Potter line, Hedwig colorway (and no, Jazz, I'm not buying one of every color they have in that line just because it's Harry Potter, I promise. I only got the two pretty ones, Hedwig and Draco).

And helping with the prototype cupholder for the Minstrel.

I'm hoping for another paid knitting gig soon, but that makes for crappy blog fodder, because I can't post those pictures or talk about them until they get published. Meanwhile though, I have to finish some second socks and work on the Unending Black Socks. I have bartered two pairs of socks from a friend whose husband has horribly large feet. He wants a pair of Black and a pair of White knee highs, and his 20 inch calves don't fit in commercial socks. In exchange, she has an awful lot of fussy embroidery to do. So far, we think it's a good deal, but I only have one toe done. There's no pic of that because it's black and won't photograph well at all. Next on the inkle loom is Bacon. Then I need another yellow belt (for a total of three) and a new purse strap. I might even do a guitar strap for Abby, out of her handspun. Maybe. Time will tell. I wonder if I can con Da into making me a darning egg so I can repair some socks?

2009-05-14T15:11:00.002-04:00

Celebrity death attributed to Swine Flu

HOLLYWOOD, CA - Last night, Kermit the Frog's body was found in a swamp in his backyard. Thorough forensic evaluation has led investigators to the conclusion that Mr. Frog was a victim of Swine Flu. Investigators are uncertain if he would have survived with medical intervention.

Consideration is being made for declaring it a criminal case; Mr. Frog's motivations are not clear as to why he chose to avoid seeing medical help. Inquiries as to the wherabouts and medical condition of Mr. Frog's wife are being made by the police and Interpol.

Mr. Frog is also survived by his nephew, Robin the Frog.

2009-05-09T03:12:00.000-04:00

This is why I want to get Jazz a PS3 - so I can "selflessly" move the PS2 into the office for my own use. Not only could I boot up some of my exercise DVDs, I could get out the old Dance Pad.

2009-05-05T11:42:00.002-04:00

This is for Tata.

Please go watch this anti-Miss Fake Tits Not The Winner of Miss California song. It's very catchy.

2009-05-03T16:31:00.002-04:00

I've been Weaving.

This is an Inkle loom.

This is For Georg woven.

The wool sock yarn feels very different from the #10 cotton. It's stickier and that means I can weave with less tension. Edges are easier to keep neat. Sheds however are harder to open.

Pepe is confused. He knows it's String, but isn't sure what to do with it.

2009-05-01T14:50:00.002-04:00

All of this bull crap about the swine flu "hearkening back" to the 1918 flu is driving me nuts. Let me tell you a few things about 1918 that ought to make you feel a wee bit better.

My Grandpa Burt signed up as a young man to be a 101-day Doughboy for the Great War. The idea was to sign up for 101 days, and then you'd be out, because with that push the War would be over, or so they advertised. It was just as America was entering, and they believed that with one great push from America, the War would be over, and we would win. They called it the Great War, because they believed it could never happen again. But then the one shipload of American soldiers came down with the flu and were sent home to recover, spreading the disease throughout the country. My grandfather was on that boat. He was sent home to Ilion, NY. Then it was determined that he should go to a sanitarium to improve his health, as Ilion was the home of Remington Arms, and the factory smoke could not be good for his lungs. Either that or the town had a quarantine - I'm not sure. It was vital to the War Effort the factory stay open - so the flu would not be welcome in town. The sanitarium was in the Adirondacks, and was founded to help tuberculosis patients. Burt soon recovered from the flu, only to catch TB. He was there for months. They didn't have sanitation or medication to fight the 1918 flu. Or tuberculosis. They used a lot of the same instruments without sterilization between patients. If one patient had a disease in the sanitarium, they all got it, so getting better was rare. Burt did. He then went on with the GI bill to Hamilton College and got a job as a principal in the Utica school system.

Today, even if you were sent some place special to recuperate, they would do their damndest to make sure there was no cross-contamination. It's true that washing you hands often will help keep you healthier. Common sense hygiene currently can help save lives. And our medicines are a huge improvement- we have a cure for tuberculosis now, and in my grandfather's day it was often a death sentence. I'm not worried about this flu. I believe the panic will cause more harm than the disease will. And why yes, I do have a compromised immune system and therefore am considered a high-risk.

I'm not worried. Neither should you.

2009-04-28T10:26:00.002-04:00

On Sunday, I learned to shave poor Max. Doesn't he look more comfortable?

We realized how much this is true:

2009-04-26T05:11:00.006-04:00

Yesterday, I had a busy day, culminating a very busy week.

The Store Opened with the ceremonial yanking of the sheets. The store is of course Holiday Yarns, owned and operated by Gwynivar with help from Eric and Nora, and occasionally myself and a few other generous people. I should mention Twiggi was working there most of Saturday as well. She came up the night before and helped Jen dye and other things.

The yarn wall (bear in mind, this is only Holiday Yarns brand - there is much more than this. I have more pictures of the store, but I don't know how many will choke Blogger.

One of the roving sections. Yes, One of Many. There's a place to build a batt too, and the drum carder will be set up this week!

Setting up to dye. Part of Saturday was a Ravelry party where dying yarn was encouraged and at least 8 skeins were dyed, and I think it ended up with more than that done. There were customers who wandered through who hadn't heard of the store before yesterday standing in the periphery and watching as well. But most of the people had heard of Nora and wanted to dye with her.

The Master at work, with Enigma on the left.

Got yarn?

2009-04-24T13:10:00.002-04:00

I am essentially a lazy person. I have always been the one who prefers to avoid exercise I don't like. My favorite exercise of all time is swimming, and if I had the chance I would swim every day. However, thanks to this chemical sensitivity problem I have, I can't breathe around chlorine any more, and that makes swimming daily very difficult. The lakes around here tend to freeze over, and our bathtub isn't big enough to do laps. I did go to Curves for a while, but that is complicated by the fact that other people don't like the smell of sweat and therefore wear perfume to cover it up, and the gym itself liked to decorate with scented candles and if you put them by machines I'm trying to use, I can't breathe. There's always walking, and I do try to help with the walking of the dogs (and really Ought to do more but 7 AM is a bit early and the dogs don't like to wait for my lazy ass to get out of bed), but there's often the scent of laundry in the air (DAMN YOU GAIN!), and soon the flowers will be out. They are indeed gorgeous, and smelly.

So my solution has been to get an exercise ball. I sit on it for an office chair. No arms to rest my arms upon - so I don't get pressure induced numbness like ulnar tunnel syndrome or carpal tunnel syndrome. Unfortunately, they are vinyl and smelly for a couple of weeks out of the box which makes me headachey and I tend to pop them every six months or so. The first time I popped one it just scared me. But over the weekend, I landed just exactly wrong on my tailbone and the bugger still hurts. I know it'll fade and there's no lasting damage and I didn't break anything. I just wanted to whinge. And I miss having a chair I can wiggle on at the moment, because the new ball has to go in time out so it stops being smelly. (In addition to the extreme pain getting up from the seated position from the ball). The more I move, the less it hurts, so there's a fine line between hobbling and actual fluid movement. I Will get better. It's just right now I have more than my usual pain in the ass.

2009-04-15T16:14:00.002-04:00

This whole teabagging thing bothers me on many levels. First there's the entire futility of the thing - our country's circumstances are NOT going to change because someone mailed a Congress critter a bag of loose leaf.

Then there's my concern about the root of the quest - are they truly trying incite a revolution by protesting an unfair tax as they did during the days before the Revolution? There is no unfair tax on Tea at the moment. I'm pretty sure all the tea flowing into DC at the moment has had all taxes paid. Because one of the rules of Effective protest (to Me) involves not being arrested for theft.

Or are they going for the modern reference - which the main blogs dance around and the mainstream media dare not discuss. Teabagging as a gaming term is much more incendiary and offensive. Calling Obama a "pantywaist" is nothing on stuffing nutsacks. It's only a hair kinder than calling him a "damn n-----" and certainly many of the uptight conservatives I know understood what that meant they would be embarrassed to mail anyone a teabag.

I almost want to mail the instigators of this offensive stunt some coffee. So they can wake up and smell some. Offending people does NOT sway them to your side. It only puts them off further. It closes doors to discussion. And the only way for conservatives, let alone the Republican Party, to get anything done until the next election is by having conversations and learning to bend and work with others.

If you truly don't like where your tax dollars are going, there is the excellent example given in Civil Disobedience by Henry David Thoreau. Sure, he went to jail for not paying his taxes. You probably will too. Eventually. Of course, this seems to be a Democratic phenomenon (just see all references to failed cabinet posts by Obama), so perhaps Republicans won't let themselves consider it as a result.

2009-04-09T20:05:00.002-04:00

This is the spun Mint Mojito. Unfortunately, it ends up being a lot more uniform than the yarn did. The bottom skein is the rest of the three-ply, with some two ply and navajo to finish it off, and only 80 yards. The top is a uniform 3-ply of 180 yards. It'll go nicely with the Bingo Rose handspun, and I hope to make a shrug out of it for myself- since Her What Lives Next Door got my other shrug - and that's fine with me because I didn't like that shrug very much.

2009-04-07T10:48:00.002-04:00

This picture is for Lisa, so she can see the difference in the old bobbin from the Ashford Traditional wheel versus the same amount of fiber on the bobbin of the Minstrel. This means of course there will probably have to be another picture so y'all can see the finished plied yarn.

2009-04-06T22:25:00.003-04:00

Once upon a time there was a box.

Well, perhaps the story begins earlier than that. It begins with knitting socks for someone so famous in the knitting world she doesn't have time to knit socks for herself. So I have. And I offered to do some more. So for a really huge scam, she said she would send me a wheel. I swear I did warn Jazz, but time passes and people forget and things don't seem real any more, because that's the safest way to avoid being disappointed.

I spent today away from home, in Syracuse working on the Holiday Yarns store. When I called home, Jazz said, "Honey, there's a box here. I think it has a loom in it." I reassured him there was no loom. The looms I have are a small table loom and a borrowed inkle loom, and that's all we fit in this tiny house. I know there is no loom. "But there's a box," he insisted. "It says it's a minstrel."

Images of bards in boxes go through my head for amusement sake. I hoped there was food and airholes and adequate sanitation. But at the same time, I was thinking, that's a Kromski. That gorgeous castle wheel the one guy was spinning alpaca at the one fiberfest was a Kromski. Castle wheels will fit better in the house than the saxony style. I bet it's got lots of pretty and fussy details without being girly.

I came home to Jazz far more intent on his upcoming events, and understandably so. We discussed tomorrow's schedule while I slowly pulled Polish newspaper out of The Box. I found editorial cartoons in Polish - I think they were editorial in nature because it looked it had hookers and guns and people praying to ATMs, and didn't look funny at all when one doesn't understand the words. But it amused me just the same. Mr. Basset shared the couch while I figured out the assembly.

And after Jazz took the dogs up to bed, I could not resist... It works just fine, with very little fuss.

I haz a happee.

2009-04-03T13:57:00.002-04:00

Today, shots were fired in Binghamton and the city near me is on the news. I'm sure friends will poke their nose in to see if I'm okay. I wasn't shot at, if that helps.

Today I don't want to feel sad and depressed and scared. I don't want to think about the hostages still in the building or their loved ones terrified for their sake. I don't want to worry about the cops trying to solve the problem. I do want to slap some of the media coverage of the event. I am angry that anyone would consider getting a gun and shooting people to solve their problems.

Is it wrong to just want the whole damn thing to go away and pretend it never happened? Have I become too numb to care?

2009-03-25T15:06:00.003-04:00

My current knitting project is far less exciting than the one I couldn't talk about. I'm just knitting toes. Lots and lots of toes. The above are Bacon and Ember, and can be bought here. There's a lot more colors, and therefore a lot more toes to be made. We'll be sending the toes out as samples for stores, in the hopes of increasing a wholesale market.

In addition to trying to wholesale the yarns, we're also trying a brick and mortar store, and I hope we aren't stretching our necks out too far. Mind, I only work on the periphery of this business, but I am hoping the endeavors succeed. I'll likely be driving the hour plus twice a week or so to teach classes and help out. I am hoping there is more stuff I can do from home to help. We shall see. I hope to finish people's knitting (weave in ends, sew seams, sew on buttons), or knit commission pieces, if that's possible.

But meanwhile... well, there's always more toes. I've already cast on Bruised Ego.

2009-03-17T20:56:00.000-04:00

I don't care if you don't like sheep.

Watch This.

2009-03-16T16:49:00.002-04:00

Dear Dr. Marion Thorpe, Jr.:

No, I'm not the conservative republican you think I am with your mailing list.

You're the first person to send me something begging money for a conservative cause though - and frankly, I'm rather disgusted. I feel dirty for somehow getting on that list, because I am neither conservative or Republican. I've been a registered Democrat for the past 22 years, and I'm damn proud of it. Although, honesty compels me to admit Democrats ain't all rainbows and unicorns- their shit stinks just as much as the Republican shit.

When I got your letter, I was angered for more than the apparently common mistake that I am conservative - your letter proclaimed you were a black Republican running for U.S. Senate, and that you were from Florida. I had flashbacks of Hillary Clinton all over again. You see, we have a senate election cycle *currently under way* in my state of New York, and I assumed you were being a total asshole carpetbagger moving from Florida to take on the current contenders that I know about - Misters Tedisco and Murphy. I can't stand a carpetbagger - I want my governmental representatives to be from the state of New York so they have more idea of what our problems are, and not focused on using their career as a stepping stone for greater things, and yes, Hillary, I will never forgive you for entering my state with your goals. Dr. Thorpe, I thought you were coming to my state. Your letter doesn't make it clear for which state's seat you are running for Congress, and you let me assume it was New York. I feel this is very disingenuous and not perfectly ethical. If I didn't have the brains to figure this out when I looked your name up on the web, I probably would have fallen for it. I find this despicable.

Worse, your letter seems to be a bid to vote for you and donate to your campaign just because you're black. If I didn't want to vote for Hillary just because she has ovaries, I certainly am not going to donate to your campaign just because your skin is slightly heavier in the pigment department. I don't care. That's NOT why I feel moved to vote for candidates. I want to know where you stand on the issues. I'm sure there are other candidates in the primary with whom you will have to contend, and these issues will need to be addressed.

I now believe I will keep an eye on your campaign in the future, and possibly I may be moved to mobilize in favor of your opponents. You've certainly done the absolute opposite of impressing me.

2009-03-13T16:13:00.002-04:00

You want to put someone on notice?

I certainly do.

2009-03-12T12:06:00.002-04:00

I haven't been posting, in part because the current project is something I'm not allowed to talk about. And pretty soon, I'll have more projects I can't talk about. This is personally very exciting stuff but makes for very dull copy on this blog. I'm knitting _____ onna deadline out of _______'s homespun. Do you know how hard it is to knit, when with every stitch your brain is screaming "OMG! You're knitting with ____ F*cking ____'s homespun! Look, this is navajo plied! Better make that stitch a little tighter so the "join" isn't on the center of the stitch.... but it's _____'s homespun! And this one is two ply, and that one is three ply, and omg I get to work with _____'s homespun!" It's a huge fangirl moment, that I really can't share. There's also the OMG She Knows I'm Alive, and the whole She called my house and knows where I live moments, but that's never as impressive as actually handling the homespun, yanno? Even more fun - I may get to do it again some time! So if you hear muffled excited screaming, it's probably me over here in my mind.

I've also been knitting toes for my dyer friend - if I knit so many toes, I get a free skein of yarn. She will also happily substitute fiber or different weights of yarn. So things are looking very, very good for my new year's resolution of a fiber diet until we aren't in debt.

2009-03-10T15:41:00.001-04:00

This is a little over 9 minutes and in Japanese, but it's really cool. The Japanese have odd ideas of game shows -here's a bit to determine which feral cat can lift and carry the heaviest fish.

Clicky for video

2009-03-04T20:10:00.002-05:00

I haz a happy. I found Josh's blog.

I've just been using this as an icon for several things, and I like to keep track of Josh and his story.

2009-02-22T07:41:00.001-05:00

2009-02-17T10:53:00.002-05:00

Bamboo summer socks

The cabling is a little tight on the ankles, but that means I'm not worried about them being eaten by my shoes. The color is more pure lilac than mauve.

2009-02-12T10:35:00.002-05:00

Sassy Magic Fat Cat
1992?-2009

2009-02-09T18:50:00.001-05:00

Mint Mojito socks

And of course, you can get the yarn here.

2009-02-09T18:47:00.000-05:00

Tom, with hat.

2009-02-04T11:50:00.002-05:00

From here.

This is how I feel if I don't create anything in a few days. This is also how I feel about medical transcription.

This is how I feel about George Bush.

2009-01-28T21:28:00.001-05:00

There's a lot out there I don't understand. This sort of thing is one of them. WTF?

2009-01-23T14:22:00.003-05:00

I am 12 inside. This is my favorite map of England, ever. And yes, these places are real.

2009-01-19T15:33:00.000-05:00

2009-01-16T15:47:00.000-05:00

2009-01-04T21:10:00.003-05:00

Today was my 40th birthday party. We had a lot of unusual treats, and I promised to explain them.

dessert sushi

I took a Sarah Lee pound cake and cut it into small pieces. I also got the closest thing to green fruit by the foot- "Yogos Roll ups" in fruit punch flavor. I hate fruit punch, but they were green, and the idea was to pretend they were seaweed holding the "fish" on the bed of rice. The pound cake was the rice. The "fish" were octopi, clown fish, and swedish fish. Then I used cinnamon imperials for the large roe, and pop rocks for the tiny roe, and there is also raspberry candies which texturally in the mouth taste more like the roe sushi. I kept them gently chilled in our mud room. I am glad I only made one tray, because there was a lot left over. Originally, I was planning on making some with pound cake and some with rice krispy treats. Instead, I just did a whole 'nother tray of rice krispy treats.

Canookie

This is a canookie. It's a dessert equivalent of turducken, started out on SSSK as a joke, but I thought it deserved to be made once. Make chocolate chip cookie dough (it takes about half a batch of the recipe found in Better Homes & Gardens, but I use all butter and no shortning because I'm that kind of person). Make brownie mix from a box. Using a 13 x 9 pan, well-buttered, pour in the brownie mix. Then evenly spoon the cookie dough in the brownie mix. Bake according to the brownie mix, adding about 5 minutes max. Allow to cool and then frost with chocolate. Meanwhile, make a banana cake mix (or your favorite non-clashing with chocolate flavor), also in a 13 x 9 pan (unfortunately my second pan is closer to 12.5 x 8.5) and bake according to the box. Allow to cool 10 minutes, then flip onto a cooling rack. Cool completely. Then flip over onto the frosted browkie (brownie with cookie). Then frost with butter cream frosting (or your favorite flavor). With the box mixes, it's actually very easy to do. It's just a bear to eat up entirely because the sugar overload will do you in.

Scotch eggs, I'm pretty sure I've covered before. Take a hard boiled egg, wrap it in bacon, wrap that in sausage or a meatloaf mixture, and then bake for an hour at 350 F. Then when you get to the bar, toss in the deep fryer for a minute. Rascal got into the bag while I was unloading the car and ate one before we even realized he had gotten into the bag. Yes, they are that good.

Almond pasties. I had extra phyllo dough, so I bought a can of almond paste. Melted some butter in a custard dish. Taking one sheet a time, carefully smear the almond paste thinly on one side. Then smear some butter next to it. Then some more almond paste. Then some butter. Then roll up the whole sheet to alternate the layers. Snip with shears and place on a cookie sheet. Keep going until you run out of dough or paste. If you run out of paste first, sprinkle with more butter and cinnamon sugar. Bake at 325 for 8-10 minutes. Cut into bite size, and you can eat half a bowl before you realize it.

Meat cake. Make meatloaf in round cake pans - two or three layers. Make a LOT of mashed potatoes (and I like mine with cheese). Construct like a layer cake. First layer of meatloaf on the plate. Frost with potatoes. Next layer of meatloaf on top. Finish frosting. Alternatives include barbecue sauce or ketchup in between the layers, but I hate that so I didn't do it.

2008-12-31T06:16:00.002-05:00

Last year, I had the goal of knitting enough socks to where I could throw out my commercial socks (or give to Salvation Army or the like). I made goal.

This year, I need to actually toss the commercial socks, as well as go through and evaluate what do I need to keep, what can I toss. I really do have too much stuff, and I need to winnow out a few things, figure out what is necessary, what ought to just get shredded, freecycle, or whatever, and rearrange things to give myself some more space. It's a tiny house and it needs to be efficient. I need to have viable solutions for being neater. My husband will be happier and it will be easier to keep clean. I am by nature a slob, but that doesn't always have to be like that.

My crafting goals:
1. Finish Eleanor of Toledo's sock.
2. Finish the embroidery scroll.
3. Finish the Topiary scarf
4. Make a sweater OR a shawl.

That doesn't sound like much, but they are all very labor intensive.

I have work goals too- I'd like to be able to pay off the credit card and stop bitching about how fucking poor I am, when I have food on my table and a stash, and a roof over my head.

Happy new year everyone - here's to hoping 2009 is better than 2008.

2008-12-25T07:15:00.001-05:00

A happy story for the holidays about dogs- bring your tissues.

2008-12-24T09:42:00.000-05:00

Happy Holidays.

2008-12-17T06:30:00.002-05:00

Here's the thing about Caroline Kennedy I don't like - I'm tired of anyone eying the senator of NY position as a stepping stone for other things. I hated Hillary for moving to NY and running for our senator because we all knew she would use it to launch a presidential bid. We knew it. We talked about it. I deliberately have never voted for her because of it. And I don't want Caroline Kennedy doing the same damn thing.

I want a senator who wants to be a senator for New York - someone who will go to congress and work hard for the common folk in NY, and with my own bias - for those upstate as much as the ones in the City. I don't want one who will go through the motions while planning a masterful campaign for something else.

I like the fact Ms. Kennedy has lived most of her life in New York, unlike some senators. I like the fact that she works hard for her various charities. But it's not enough for me. And I don't know what she could do or say that would make me change my mind.

2008-12-13T13:12:00.003-05:00

Homespun Hat for a Yarn Fairy

This is my first finished object made from my own handspun. The wool is from Gwynivar's sheep, and I believe that she dyed the roving too. When we were at Rhinebeck, she was shivering something fierce, so I have the urge to give her warm hats and gloves and scarves, but I'm not able to toss aside all of my obligations and do that for her. But I did manage this hat. I spun to worsted weight and navajo plied, making three skeins totaling close to 175 yards. And here's the pattern for a Fairy Hat, in case you want to make one too.

Edited to add - worsted weight yarn on size 5 needles.

cast on 4
connect in circle by k4.
kfb 4 times, arranging over needles comfortably as you go. Mark start of round.
kfb 8 times
kfb 16 times
(kfb 1, k1) x8
knit all round
(k3, kfb) x12
knit all round
knit all round
(k4 kfb) x12
knit all round
knit all round
(k5 kfb) x12
knit all round
(k6 kfb) x12
knit all round for three rows.
(k7 kfb) x12
knit all round for four inches.
(k8 kfb) x12
knit all round
(k9 kfb) x12
knit all round
(k10 kfb) x12
knit all round
(k11 kfb) x12
knit all round
(k5 kfb k6 kfb) x12
knit all round
(k6 kfb k7 kfb) x12
knit all round
(k7 kfb k8 kfb) x12
knit all round
Bind off. This is where I ran out of yarn.

(k = knit. kfb = knit front and back of stitch)

2008-12-13T06:54:00.002-05:00

We were discussing the possibilities of a dessert form of turducken (which is a chicken inna duck inna turkey)... and we came up with canookie - a cookie inna brownie inna cake.

Here is the cookie inna brownie part- all that's left is layering this between Cake and slathering on the icing.

2008-12-09T10:05:00.001-05:00

My second skein. 78 yards, navajo plied, Gwynivar wool.
Tom and Jazz share a special moment of conversation.

2008-12-09T04:06:00.001-05:00

You know product placement has gone just a wee too far when you hear the words:

"And if you've just shot yourself in the thigh, remember to turn to WebMD for all your medical questions."

It's been way more than 24 hours, and I'm still laughing.

2008-12-07T13:15:00.003-05:00

Kissmoose Knitting

Everyone seems to freak out about- oh, you do handcrafts? You're making stuff for everybody this year, right? Well, yes and no. No, I don't make everyone something I knit. I don't have enough hours in the day to even consider such a thing. But that doesn't mean I haven't done some. When I told my mom I started knitting again, she wanted to know for whom- as if I can't knit for ME. I mentioned making socks. She wanted to know if they'd be wool... and frankly most of the yarn out there is wool, especially sock yarn, but they treat it these days with a special washing so that it can go in the washer with the rest of one's clothes. A lot of the sock yarn can even go through the drier with no adverse effects, including most of my socks. But mom has always made a big deal about being bothered by wool and by acrylic, so she hasn't wanted me to knit her anything.

I did it anyway.

(And yes, I'll wash it in shampoo in the sink and let it dry before I give it to her- I don't want to set the allergies off due to to pets). This is Debbie Bliss DK silk, in the Mead Scarf pattern. It's very lovely and just as blue up close, and will look smashing on my mom if she does decide to wear it. Because it's 100% silk, it can't be on her bad fiber list- but she can be temperamental. So can I- so I can be forgiving.

For Da, I made him a couple of cowls but I did go for evil acrylic- like socks I wanted washability. But I did leave the door open if he wants something else colorwise. I don't know how to convince him of what's available without dragging him through Knitpicks or Webs (which are overwhelming and full of bad choices) or an actual yarn store.

Almost everyone is getting T-shirts. I have an embroidery machine, and I'm not afraid to use it. It doesn't take me as long as knitting anything for them, although I've threatened to knit Fongs for my oldest niece and my sister. These are demi-socks that go under flip-flop straps that work to prevent chafing and odd sunburns. I can use odd bits of skeins I have left over from my own pairs. And they would be washable.

Next year, I think everyone is getting knit re-usable bags out of cotton. If I get a good pattern, I ought to be able to crank them out and Peaches and Cream comes by the pound. But by the time I had the idea for this, it was already late November and I am no superwoman making 15 bags in four weeks.

What I would love to do is take my sister-in-law to the local yarn shop - her local. According to Ravelry, there's about four of them, although the one in Frankfort seems to specialize in Patons, and that's not a sign of Good Stuff. I wish I could take her to Spin-A-Yarn where she could meet the nice things I'm used to having roll off my tongue now, Koigu, Bernat, Opal, Great Adirondack, Panda Silk, Cherry Tree Hill, and even Noro and Tofutsies. Feel the differences in yarns and see all the contents that are available now. I remember when I was young and going to Woolworths and being impressed with all the different types of Red Heart- but there's so much more than just Patons and Vanana White like you find in Michaels. Have I become a snob? Probably.

I'm spending more on Riley than I normally spend on any of the nephews and nieces- I'm buying him a Tsock 101 kit. I hope I get a few days to play with him and it to help him understand the techniques, and then I hope he gets the chance to use the tools in the manual again and again. Yes, it'll be wool blended with nylon. But it'll be machine washable, and it won't itch. And it won't be a bright screaming neon color or Girly either. So I hope he likes it.

It's tempting to get Aidan a spinning beginners kit... But not yet.

2008-12-01T17:29:00.002-05:00

Dear Plaxico Burress:

You are an idiot.

You have failed at your job. You have disappointed fans everywhere. You fail as a role model. I'm sorry you're going to jail, but really- you deserve everything the NFL is going to do to you.

Your job as a professional football player is to *play* football at the professional level. During the season, you really should eat, sleep, and breathe football, focus on staying in top shape, and keeping yourself healthy. This does not mean going out to clubs until all hours every night. This does not mean skipping team meetings and showing up late.

The NFL has been happy to help you with security detail. They are more than happy to give you references to hire some men to guard your ass while in public. There is no reason to carry a gun yourself, particularly when you have no license to carry a gun, or for that matter *own a gun*. If you did have the proper licenses, one of the requirements is lessons on how to use and maintain said firearms. Now, I'm libertarian enough to where I think everyone ought to know how to shoot and maintain a gun, and I firmly believe if you own a gun, you should practice with it regularly. I have heard of several places in NYC where you can legally shoot all kinds of guns. Clearly if you had any safe gun handling lessons, you would have been able to carry your gun in a sensible manner, and if you had the proper licenses, you could have done so legally. But all of this was lost on you, because you thought you were above the law because you were rich.

You aren't rich. The people who sign your paycheck are rich. You are just a lucky bastard with a talent for playing football. And now that you have a hole in your thigh, you can't play football. What good are you now?

I hope you will learn something from all this. Unfortunately, I think you'll be crying about that chip on your shoulder about how all this happened because you were black and unable to get endorsement deals. No. It happened because you, Plaxico, are a frigging idiot.

2008-11-27T19:51:00.002-05:00

My knitta crew.

In no particular order, but most left to right- Daisysmom, Twiggi, Nuffles, Jodi, me, Bug, Kathi, and Yarngasm. I'd say more about these ladies and our Tuesday night knitting meetings, but my mom reads this now, and I somehow feel obliged to watch my language.

2008-11-20T09:54:00.002-05:00

Does this mean I'm famous?

I'm really flattered to have a yarn named after me. Here's what they look like all knit up on my feet.

In other news, Max (formerly known as Mr. Salty Whiskers) is off to the vet to have his nuts chopped off.

2008-11-12T00:15:00.003-05:00

He is bonding well with Rascal. Neither dog wants to belt behind when one goes for a walk. However, they really aren't cuddling or playing, but that may also be because they are both older gentleman and above such things. Except today we gave the schnauzer a squeaky toy, and well... He likes a Squeak.

He has a name. We thought about Clyde, Hamish, Admiral Barky, Mr. Whiskers, Scruffy, Poo-O-Matic, Little Dog, and several other things, but we thought about who he reminded us of... I thought of Ginny, The Dog Who Rescued Cats (and don't click on that link unless you like Cat Rescue, a good cry, or both- you have been warned), but that's a Girl and my mother-in-law's name (Nor do I want to be the one to explain to the mother-in-law why we didn't name a dog after her). Jazz thought of the Grinch's little dog and the sad eyed hopeful way he looked all the time. His name is Max. I liked it too.

So his name is Max.

In other news, I've started knitting the Scarf of One Thousand Leaves... or what I would properly like to call it- The Topiary Scarf.

2008-11-05T18:00:00.003-05:00

Salty Whiskers, our new dog.

This picture was taken on the bank of the river after I finally finished all of the paperwork that let me take him home. I spent a good hour just sitting with him and walking him, and letting him get used to me before I stuffed him in the car to take him to the vet's office. He had spent so little time out of doors that it was a remarkable time for him. And it helped him develop a little trust with me. He did not want to go in or out of the truck, and let me pick him up just for those. But once he was in the truck, he was fine- running all over the back seat to pick the Best View, and then settling where he could just sit and watch me.

I sat on the burm for a little while, just singing and talking to him, and then I remembered the last time I spent near a shelter just sitting and talking and singing to a dog, and I burst into tears thinking about Kenya. No, Salty isn't going to replace her in any way shape or form, but she'll scoot over and make room at the food bowl. He came closer when I cried, wanting to comfort me, and yet still scared. The poor dear.

Apparently, he had his vaccinations at the shelter including his rabies, and he allegedly had been Frontlined there. Their vet said he would need his teeth seen to soon, so we knew that going in. Our vet agreed that his mouth was in terrible shape. She said his coat looked good though and his heart sounded well. There was minor concern over runny poo and a mild fever- but these could be stress from the change of being in the shelter, the constant change in his diet, and the possible mild infection of his teeth. Also, one of his testicles was not descended, so getting him neutered would not be a quick and easy matter- he would need one ball searched for. In the interest of making him more comfortable, we decided to get the teeth cleaned tomorrow, especially if he still had the fever in the morning, because the teeth were the most likely cause if there was any infection. And while they had him, they would do a fecal examination on anything he produced overnight to check for parasites. He will come home tomorrow evening with a course of antibiotics. So we're doing some scurrying to prepare. In two weeks or so, he'll go back to the vet's and they'll hunt for his balls. The problem with a testicle non-descended is that it is much more likely to turn cancerous, and if it's not the lump the vet thinks it is, that lump had better get checked out- although it's probably just a fat lump.

And the housebreaking begins tomorrow. Wish us luck! We'll need it.

2008-11-05T10:11:00.001-05:00

What am I doing instead of the fantasy I tossed? Here, have an excerpt.

---

In 1994, I was working for a newspaper, which I don't want to name in the interest of self-preservation, as a copy editor/page designer of the Living Section. It was my favoritest job ever and I still miss it. When the management decided to have a booth at a Volunteer Day, I agreed to help man the booth. I used to be a Girl Scout. I used to be a Boy Scout too, but that's a different story. I liked volunteering. The whole day was spent urging people to volunteer for whatever causes spoke to them. There were tables also for the Jaycees, United Way, and of course Scouting. I had several folks try to recruit me to their causes, but I liked one of the causes we had on our table- the Humane Society.

The next day I called Herkimer County Humane Society, and I asked what I could do. They told me their hours for dog walking- in the afternoon while I was at work. I said I was available only in the mornings and on weekends- was there something I could do then? I could almost hear his shrug. You could come and clean cages, I was told. That would be fine, I thought, and I scheduled a start date.

How bad could cleaning cages be? Everybody poops. There would be a lot of that. Spilled dog food. A heavy ammonia smell from the urine and cleaners. And of course a heavy dose of animal fear and hope. It's how most animal shelters smell to me.

My first day at the shelter was early December. It took longer than I thought it would to get from my apartment in Poland to the far side of Herkimer, technically in Mohawk. It was dark at 8 something in the morning, and there were a lot of cars on the icy driveway. I approached the logical entrance and heard an argument going on inside. The door was locked. When I went to knock, the door was opened roughly and a man ran outside. I didn't look at him. I seized the opportunity to get inside. I was stared at by angry, shocked faces.

"Um," I managed, 'My name is Georg, and I'm here to volunteer. I called a while ago?"

A frail older lady recovered first and took charge. "Good. We're glad you're here," she snapped. "You can help Pat with the cats."

I looked at the two men in the room. The tall grey-blond man nodded. The shorter darker man looked poleaxed. "She can help me with the dogs," he blurted.

The frog-like woman croaked, "That's fine. Dusty will help me with the cats then." Apparently, she was Pat. You would think with a name like Georg I would know better than to fall for such assumptions, but no, I have my stereotypes too.

The seated man stood and introduced himself as Jazz. I liked his mustache and his long hair, and his thin wiry build. He looked like he had a sense of humor in his dark eyes, but he seemed off balance. The whole vibe of the room was strange, but I wrote that off to the argument I walked in on.

"Let's get to work," Alma said. Of course, I didn't find out her name for months. I didn't see her again for a while. She came regularly and took all of the dog blankets and cat blankets that had not been coated in sickness or poo, washed them, and brought them back, every week. She was more than 70 years old and had dedicated her life to this shelter. She had a will of iron. The argument had been mainly between herself and the caretaker of the shelter, causing him to leave in a huff, and he never came back. Jazz ended up assuming the caretaker role, except he never did get the title nor an increase in pay. And he really didn't want these things either very much. But I didn't know this – I just followed those brown eyes into the Dog Room, and listened as he told me what he wanted me to do to help.

2008-11-04T08:24:00.001-05:00

Did you Vote?

Because I did.

The line was still pretty short. I went before coffee which is why I almost forgot the propositions. Again.

2008-11-02T09:35:00.001-05:00

I wrote this initially on November 1. But I've tossed it in favor of something else.

---

No one really saw the wave as it coruscated through the earth. No one could say later exactly what it was, where it had gone, or from where indeed it came. It was only careful mapping later that plotted its features as a wave, but that did not explain what had changed, who had changed, or how.

She had been spinning when the wave hit - hand-dyed silk on a Bosworth featherweight spindle. She had described the combination in the past as nearly effortless. The spindle was so light and the silk wanted to be spun fine, remembering the single small filaments from the worm as they were originally made. She wasn't sure what to do with the finished yarn, but it would tell her given time, as most of the yarn in her stash was wont to do.

Then the wave hit.

For a moment the spindle glowed. The small pinch of silk held in her hand ready to use grew in quantity and yet seemed insubstantial. The thread itself felt even thinner and stronger and glowed full of possibilities. The spindle had been about to slow, but now picked up speed without the need to actually spin it. The thread grew longer without drafting even being necessary. Then the glow faded, and it was time to wind more on the cop.

Her husband had been sleeping- a needed nap. He did not notice anything at that time.

Many people did not notice anything at all- in relation to themselves anyway. The electronics in everything seemed to go haywire. Some of it stayed functional, but most of it did not- and it seemed to be connected as to whether the user of the electronic device liked it or not. One philosopher later theorized that what the wave did was promote happiness- if you were happy about what you were doing when the wave hit, the electronics resonated your happiness, overflowing the circuits who strained to help you. If you weren't happy, the electronics simply quit. Every red light that was glared at stopped working. Cars used for functionality stopped and refused to move, unless they were old enough not to have a computerized system. If you were playing a game you enjoyed, it kept working. If you were working at your job and you didn't like the job, the lights went out, the computer went blank, and electricity simply refused to flow around you. If you were goofing off at your job that you didn't like, nothing changed for you- but if the majority of the people working at the business didn't enjoy it- that business could no longer function. Society had to change, and the adaptation was very difficult.

The news had been on in the background for her spinning, so that was all the TV would show her.

2008-10-31T10:36:00.002-04:00

This is Salty Whiskers. He is a miniature schnauzer who has spent most of his life if not all of it in a puppy mill as a sire dog. He's spent more than six years in a crate until his rescue, and has spent a while at the Humane Society in Binghamton.

When Rascal met him, they both perked up and were friendly.

So this Wednesday, I'll go pick him up and take him to the vet's office. They'll do the full exam and "tutor" him. I'd like them to clean his teeth too at the same time, but our vet says they probably won't. And later in the week we get to take him home from the vet's office, and I'll post more pictures then.

2008-10-25T14:34:00.002-04:00

Warning:

This blog turns into a writing blog for NaNoWriMo. Knitting content will be likely suspended.

However, we will be posting about Rascal's new pet dog, when Rascal has finished picking one out, because doubtless there will be adorable stories in conjunction with the picking. First though, a sad: Rascal and family went to the local humane society where they had a lot of dogs. We got there while dog walking was going on. Two dogs were deliberately walked with Rascal, and he liked one of them very well. However, one dog came out that from a distance looked a lot like Kenya. Rascal WOOFED and tried very hard to take off and greet that dog. He got a good sniff and came away with his tail down.

But that sadness is why he's getting a dog. Jazz and I don't really want one. But he does. And you know what pushovers we are.

2008-10-23T09:48:00.000-04:00

2008-10-19T16:49:00.002-04:00

So what I did at Rhinebeck, for those who are curious.

Got up at 3 AM, thanks to Rascal. Spent maybe 45 minutes up because he had to go out and took his sweet time before he was finally ready to give me a notice he wanted Out. Managed to go back to bed and fall asleep, for the alarm to go off at 5. Dressed and hit the road in time to pick Tracy up at 5:30, Steph and Amanda up at 6, and Sandi about 6:30. Steph gave us coffee, Amanda managed muffins, and Sandi passed out cider. I forgot what Tracy brought but it was something.

We chatted away until we hit Roscoe for a pee break, which we greeted with a "Holy Shit!" because the gas price there was 2.95. I pre-paid while they took turns at the toilet. It soon become apparent *why* the gas was cheap- the pump was going very very slow, and it took a good 5 minutes for the gas to pump $2 worth. I went and hit the john with someone else holding the pump, and it went to $3. oooo. We gave up after $7 worth, because we'd been there damn near half an hour.

Then we finally got to Rhinebeck and getting parked was easy. The line to get in was already moving, and didn't take long at all. I walked too fast and left the ladies behind, but I made sure they would know where to find me, and we had the default meeting for the end of the day to make sure we all could leave together. I went straight to our booth. Liber greeted me immediately, but I had to do a little bit of work right away, and she wandered off. Then I got to meet Franklin, and I tried very hard not to drool on him or scare him, but I was honored to meet him. He is adorable. (see the "If I were a sheep" link on the right- I'm going to be lazy and not link everyone) Then I sat down next to Brewergnome (who is also more adorable in person with his clothes on) and we companionably got a few things sorted out for selling in the booth. It was nice to get to know him and feel less stalkerish- I read a lot of his posts on Ravelry, but I can be self-effacing about not being noticeable sometimes, so I wasn't sure how much he wanted to know me at first. He's a brewer, and fond of gnomes (and yes honey, he's very, very gay), and I like his sense of humor a great deal. Our chores being done, we walked back to the booth and set out those wares. Then I wandered off by myself and explored about half of the booths.

I found the Socks that Rock booth, and managed to jam myself in and pick out a few skeins... and then realized the line to check out was more than hour long. I put the skeins back. I found pencil roving, which I had not seen in real life before. I found the Bosworth booth and drooled on them all fanboy, but did not touch any of the spindles. I did admire their full size wheel though. If I was MINO, yeah, I would want. But I'm not, and I don't NEED it. I wandered off again. I found a place to shop for Heather and bought way too much there, but she ought to be happy. She'll see all that tomorrow. Then I wandered back to our booth, and offered food and drink and a pee break. I am well trained as a retainer. :) Gwynivar was too cold. I gave her my coat and put heating bandages on her. Then I stopped and explored the other half of the show.

During lunch, Liber called. She wanted to meet for the wheel- so I completed the deal of buying a spinning wheel. Yes, I bought a spinning wheel at Rhinebeck... And later I found Steph and told her her wheel was in the car, and she handed me money to pay me for it... So I also sold a wheel at Rhinebeck. :) I include this interlude to make my sweetie a little nervous, but he ought to be pleased that I did not buy one and bring one home For ME. Some of the wheels they had there included a couple of double fly antique types which you draft with both hands as well as the cheaper and highly portable types like Hitchhikers.

I did buy a few sampler packs of roving materials- so I can see what it's like to spin flax, hemp, organic cottons, and buffalo. And I bought Kissmoose presents for a swap with the Bingo crew. But I spent most of my day at the booth. Itgirl, Jesh, Brewergnome, Lisa and myself were standing at the front of the booth, by Jesh's spindles. Itgirl confessed she never learned to spin. So we asspinerated her, right then. We pulled a spindle off the rack, and grabbed some roving, and had her just try it. She ended up buying that spindle and some roving, and took them home with her. Brewergnome has in the past admitted to being afraid to use a spindle (but he has a wheel). Lisa solved that by handing him a spindle with roving attached and asked him to "just wind that up" while she took care of a customer. He found himself actually spinning with the spindle. So I took him over to the Bosworth booth and helped him pick one out.

I met lots of other people at the booth, including my East Kingdom knitting friends, who introduced me to Thora Sharptooth- and she is THE VIKING EXPERT and I go to her webpage for many research questions. She did not appreciate my "Not Worthy" adulation, but I could reign it in. I promised I'd be at Hrim Schola again in the spring, and there were smiles around. It feels good to have a Laurel admire your new job. I forget I'm a peer now too.

I did a lot of just standing in the booth and answering questions. I think mainly I was there just to see how things are done. The wonderful news is I did not react badly to much of anything- and I was worried I would react to the soap in the booth, perfumes of anyone, and stinky neighbor booths. There were a few places I did have to avoid, but in general the wind was pretty strong and not much bothered me. The cold did not. I'm bringing fingerless gloves next time just in case anyway next year, and probably will wear more knit outerwear. I had a great time. I did not take a lot of pictures, but I'll try to post those I did take later. And try to post pics I know that others took of me.

2008-10-17T12:14:00.001-04:00

It is delightfully short.

2008-10-12T04:59:00.002-04:00

You don't realize how big Rhinebeck is until you've heard people at SOAR talk about it in reverential tones. And I've heard people talk about SOAR that way- spinners, anyway. SOAR is an annual spinning retreat- it's a week-long thing, and this year it was two hours south of me in the Poconos. Next year it'll be in Oregon, so I won't be going to that unless I win the lotto or suddenly become famous or the like. I only learned to spin in June, so my attendance at this year's SOAR was extremely unlikely, what with registration happening in March with a lottery and everything. But the vendors were open to the public, and it was hard to stand firm to the resolution of not going. Besides, this week I'm printing like a madwoman to help the Tsarina get ready for Rhinebeck. I'll be busy, I knew.

Then I ran out of toner Friday night. Oh biological impossibilities with canards, I emailed the Tsarina. We discussed the options. I would check for local shops one more time in the morning (but that did prove fruitless). I could drive to Rome where there is a shop that would be able to refill the cartridges- but that's a two and a half drive, and there was no guarantee that they could do it while I waited. Or I could drive to SOAR and rondezvous with the boss where she could give me toner. It felt naughty. Like I was playing hookey or doing something wrong. Or the heavens had opened and said, "Thou Shalt Go To SOAR." So I went.

It was nice to see everything. That is one very pricy neighborhood! But I did see a brace of bassets on my way out. The shopping area was about the same as one barn of Fingerlakes, without any animals. I saw the Yarn Harlot being escorted through the shopping area (or stalked- it was hard to tell if she wanted all the company she had), but I knew she would not know me from Adam (other than I'm the one with the tits), so I didn't bother introducing myself or saying hi, even if I was wearing my Vintage socks. I found the Tsarina eventually, and got the toner. Then I waited for Abby to finish her workshop, and I gave her beer. In front of the Yarn Harlot who looked on in envy. I figure Ms. Stephanie has enough people driving long distances to give her beer- but if I had known she was there and I would be in a position to do so, I would have brought her some too. Unfortunately, I didn't get to hang out with either of these ladies, but I got to meet a couple of other Ravelry friends before heading back to print some more.

I got some printing done- but now, I'm out of magenta. Fortunately, it is already being shipped to me and will arrive in time. But it means my wedding anniversary on Monday (12 years!) will be a nice quiet day, without me freaking out about getting enough work done.

2008-10-08T11:42:00.001-04:00

Don't mind me, I'm a little busy prepping for Rhinebeck.

For your giggling needs, I want to point you to Why would you knit that?