Here's hoping the day brings you plenty of cowbell.
- 9:52 AM
- 1 Comments
Here's hoping the day brings you plenty of cowbell.
Here's hoping the day brings you plenty of cowbell.
The Beloved is a gamer. And not in any casual sense of the word. For the past few months, it has seemed to me that he has lived, breathed, eaten and slept World of Warcraft--the online gaming sensation commonly known as WoW. Any South Park fans who saw the WoW episode--it's only funny 'cause it's true. Which, actually, makes it not so funny.
Things got particularly bad this winter. The Beloved joined a guild in November while I was finishing graduate school because he needed something to do since I was gone all the time. He has since managed to lose more and more time in front of the bloody computer in pursuit of uber-lootage. In February, I joined an online community of almost 3000 "WoW Widows." Yes, I realize exactly how sad this sounds--and what's worse is that The Beloved's obsessive playing was mild in comparison to the actions of other member's significant others.
So, what does this have to do with movies? After a 12-hour stint in front of the computer on Sunday which left me extraordinarily non-plussed, The Beloved has decided to quit his guild, or at least to go on an indefinite leave of absence. I'm not sure which he eventually chose. Anyhow, we've actually spent quality time together these past evenings after work. I can't tell you how great it is. On Wednesday nights I work a second job which keeps me out until 8 or 8:30, and I was dreading finding him in the computer room having fallen off the wagon. When I got home from work, he was in the computer room. WoW was on. As soon as I walked in to say "hi," he asked if I wanted to watch a movie and turned off the game. Just like that. Now, if you've ever lived with a compulsive gamer, you know these things just don't happen. If you've never known a compulsive gamer, you've just got to trust me on this one and believe me when I say it's almost the equivalent of "here, honey, let me open a bottle of Moet and get you some strawberries and then you look like you could use a nice foot massage."
So we watched Curse of the Golden Flower. It was absolutely stunning. I know nothing about this film other than that it's Chinese, so it was hard to knit and watch at the same time since I had to read subtitles. There were scenes set in the Forbidden City--but I don't know if they shot on location or if it was a set. No matter--gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. Very violent at the end--so there was something for The Beloved, who, while able to appreciate stunning costumes and amazing settings, is still a man who digs battle scenes.
The film was directed by Zhang Yimou, who brought us Hero and House of Flying Daggers. I think it was recommended to us by my mother-in-law. While glorious to watch and wonderfully directed, the story was a bit of a jumble. Shakespearean scholars may recognize elements from their favorite tragedies--in fact, at one point The Beloved commented that it was starting to look like King Lear. Still--particularly if you have a big TV--I found it worth the 114 minutes. Particularly since it made for a lovely date with my husband.
Things got particularly bad this winter. The Beloved joined a guild in November while I was finishing graduate school because he needed something to do since I was gone all the time. He has since managed to lose more and more time in front of the bloody computer in pursuit of uber-lootage. In February, I joined an online community of almost 3000 "WoW Widows." Yes, I realize exactly how sad this sounds--and what's worse is that The Beloved's obsessive playing was mild in comparison to the actions of other member's significant others.
So, what does this have to do with movies? After a 12-hour stint in front of the computer on Sunday which left me extraordinarily non-plussed, The Beloved has decided to quit his guild, or at least to go on an indefinite leave of absence. I'm not sure which he eventually chose. Anyhow, we've actually spent quality time together these past evenings after work. I can't tell you how great it is. On Wednesday nights I work a second job which keeps me out until 8 or 8:30, and I was dreading finding him in the computer room having fallen off the wagon. When I got home from work, he was in the computer room. WoW was on. As soon as I walked in to say "hi," he asked if I wanted to watch a movie and turned off the game. Just like that. Now, if you've ever lived with a compulsive gamer, you know these things just don't happen. If you've never known a compulsive gamer, you've just got to trust me on this one and believe me when I say it's almost the equivalent of "here, honey, let me open a bottle of Moet and get you some strawberries and then you look like you could use a nice foot massage."
So we watched Curse of the Golden Flower. It was absolutely stunning. I know nothing about this film other than that it's Chinese, so it was hard to knit and watch at the same time since I had to read subtitles. There were scenes set in the Forbidden City--but I don't know if they shot on location or if it was a set. No matter--gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. Very violent at the end--so there was something for The Beloved, who, while able to appreciate stunning costumes and amazing settings, is still a man who digs battle scenes.The film was directed by Zhang Yimou, who brought us Hero and House of Flying Daggers. I think it was recommended to us by my mother-in-law. While glorious to watch and wonderfully directed, the story was a bit of a jumble. Shakespearean scholars may recognize elements from their favorite tragedies--in fact, at one point The Beloved commented that it was starting to look like King Lear. Still--particularly if you have a big TV--I found it worth the 114 minutes. Particularly since it made for a lovely date with my husband.
- 9:36 AM
- 1 Comments
Yeah. That was me, yesterday. Needless to say, not much got done. I'm hoping to finish the left front of the baby kimono tonight which is a little "behind schedule," but not too bad.
Migraines are a new wonder for me. Like most overly-dramatic young women, I frequently claimed I must be suffering one, to which my mother (who actually got them) would say something like, "You're still vertical. Not a migraine." Ah, the sympathy. Anyway. My first real, honest-to-God migraine struck a few months ago, about an hour after I turned in my back-of-the-book index assignment for a graduate-level course in Indexing and Abstracting. It was an intense assignment. Within an hour of relinquishing it, I began to feel sick. Really sick. Horrible-blinding-pain-in-my-head-accompanied-by-flashing-lights-and-nausea sick. Naturally, class was in Worcester, MA--a good 90 minutes/2 hours from home. By the time class let out I realized I really wasn't in much of a condition for a drive on 495. Unfortunately, when I get sick my "homing" mechanism kicks in at an insane level, rendering me incapable of making any sort of sane judgment.
After a call to The Beloved, several minutes curled in fetal position on a couch in the student lounge, and the purchase of a Coke from the soda machine (I vaguely remembered reading once that caffeine was sometimes helpful in alleviating headaches), I got into the car. And immediately put my head on the steering wheel and began to whimper. Even the weak, pathetic November afternoon light was too much.
It took a long time to get home. I drove and pulled over frequently to whimper and/or throw up. It was not one of my finer moments. When I finally got home, The Beloved asked if I was OK--hopefully he drew his answer from my immediate and unceremonious collapse into bed. Fully clothed. I don't even remember if I managed to kick my shoes off.
When I talked to my mother the next day, she said, "Now that--that was a migraine."
Anyway. The one I had yesterday was not nearly as bad as the one described above, but it certainly was no walk in the park. I could feel it coming on at work and, fortunately, it stayed more or less at bay until I could get home and crawl into bed. I was even well enough to get out of bed later in the evening, though I wasn't very productive.
I've been trying to figure out what triggers them. My mother has figured out she has certain dietary triggers, but mine appear to be entirely caused by stress. Since I can't see any way of effectively eliminating stress from my life, I'm thinking it's time to work on learning to relax a bit more. I thought that knitting was helping, but maybe I need something more. Do any of you have stress-related health problems? What do you do to treat/prevent them?
Migraines are a new wonder for me. Like most overly-dramatic young women, I frequently claimed I must be suffering one, to which my mother (who actually got them) would say something like, "You're still vertical. Not a migraine." Ah, the sympathy. Anyway. My first real, honest-to-God migraine struck a few months ago, about an hour after I turned in my back-of-the-book index assignment for a graduate-level course in Indexing and Abstracting. It was an intense assignment. Within an hour of relinquishing it, I began to feel sick. Really sick. Horrible-blinding-pain-in-my-head-accompanied-by-flashing-lights-and-nausea sick. Naturally, class was in Worcester, MA--a good 90 minutes/2 hours from home. By the time class let out I realized I really wasn't in much of a condition for a drive on 495. Unfortunately, when I get sick my "homing" mechanism kicks in at an insane level, rendering me incapable of making any sort of sane judgment.
After a call to The Beloved, several minutes curled in fetal position on a couch in the student lounge, and the purchase of a Coke from the soda machine (I vaguely remembered reading once that caffeine was sometimes helpful in alleviating headaches), I got into the car. And immediately put my head on the steering wheel and began to whimper. Even the weak, pathetic November afternoon light was too much.
It took a long time to get home. I drove and pulled over frequently to whimper and/or throw up. It was not one of my finer moments. When I finally got home, The Beloved asked if I was OK--hopefully he drew his answer from my immediate and unceremonious collapse into bed. Fully clothed. I don't even remember if I managed to kick my shoes off.
When I talked to my mother the next day, she said, "Now that--that was a migraine."
Anyway. The one I had yesterday was not nearly as bad as the one described above, but it certainly was no walk in the park. I could feel it coming on at work and, fortunately, it stayed more or less at bay until I could get home and crawl into bed. I was even well enough to get out of bed later in the evening, though I wasn't very productive.
I've been trying to figure out what triggers them. My mother has figured out she has certain dietary triggers, but mine appear to be entirely caused by stress. Since I can't see any way of effectively eliminating stress from my life, I'm thinking it's time to work on learning to relax a bit more. I thought that knitting was helping, but maybe I need something more. Do any of you have stress-related health problems? What do you do to treat/prevent them?
- 5:11 PM
- 1 Comments
Why does Johnny Depp look so sexy in all that black eyeliner? We may never know. I'll see you there on May 25, though, won't I?
- 10:22 AM
- 1 Comments
So, this is what I accomplished this weekend. Yes, it's a 10-inch square of stockinette. But one day--maybe even one day soon--it will be the back of a baby kimono. It's off-white and knit in Bernat Cottontots. I had some leftover from knitting washcloths for my grandmother and this seemed to be the best use for it. The original pattern called for a cashmere-blend yarn, but this seems awfully impractical for a garment intended for a three-month-old baby. Come to think of it, off-white is pretty darned impractical, too, but at least it will be able to go in the washer and dryer.I also knit a gauge swatch for a sweater for me. Yes--something for Saisquoi! Amazing, isn't it? I think I'm going to knit this cardigan. It's sideways garter stitch. It looks interesting, yet incredibly easy. It's funny--I'm not so intimidated by the knitting as I am by the piecing together. There are a couple other sweaters and tops I'm considering, but the sewing.... I suppose I've just got to put on my big girl pants and deal. So, I'll start with something easy.
So, I've decided on a pattern and even yarn--I'll knit it from Alpaca Silk by Blue Sky Alpacas. It's soft and shimmery and absolutely perfect for a spring/summer cardigan. What I've not decided on is color. Alpaca Silk comes in a variety of absolutely delicious colors and I just can't choose! So, I'm seeking your advice. Here is the color palette from Blue Sky Alpacas. What do you think?
But, I didn't just start new projects. I worked some on The Beloved's Blankie. Don't worry--I promise not to subject you to pictures until I've gotten noticeably farther along. The Blue Lagoon Blankie....well, that I've continued to ignore. I've figured out why I don't want to work on it. It's mostly because I'm harboring feelings of hopelessness that make it nearly impossible for me to find any sort of joy in that project at this point in time (is that vague enough for you?), but perhaps someday I'll pick it up again. As I tell the kids at church, you have to get ready to enter certain stories--and knitting is like a tangible story. No matter how much I try, I just can't get ready right now. So, I'll wait. And one day, maybe, I'll be ready.
Spinning. Now, that's another story. I've tried. I'm a miserable spinner. I either need LauraJ to show me again or I need to find a remedial spinning class. Or maybe both. Sigh. I know I need to practice, but I just can't make it work right now, I know I'm doing something wrong, but I don't know what it is, and there is absolutely no sense in my practicing something incorrectly. Sigh.
And that, my friends, what my weekend. The Beloved and I watched some movies; I am now watching the final episode of Rome and lamenting that once again the powers that be have decided to cancel one of the few programs I enjoy. Ah me. And tomorrow begins another day...
- 9:17 PM
- 1 Comments
Go ahead. Check it out. You know you want to. Just click on that little picture. Go ahead. Click away....
- 12:28 PM
- 0 Comments
I thought I'd stick with the "comfort food" theme this week. Tonight I decided to make one of my all-time favorite meals: Kielbasa with Red Cabbage. My mother would make this in the winter when I was growing up, and though it is officially spring (including spring-like weather today), we had kielbasa in the freezer.
Here's what you need:
1/4 c. light brown sugar, firmly packed
1 tbsp. grated orange peel
1 clove garlic
1 1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/4 tsp. pepper
1/8 tsp. ground cloves
2 lb. head cabbage, shredded (about 12 c.)
3 medium onions, sliced (I used sweet onion)
3 medium cooking apples, pared, cored and sliced (I used granny smith)
1 lg. red pepper, cut in thin strips
1/2 c. orange juice
1/2 cup wine vinegar
1 (2 lb.) ring kielbasa (It's better if you can find a fresh sausage--trust me. But if you can't find one, a Hillshire Farms or other pre-packaged, pre-cooked kielbasa will work just fine.)
Here's what you do:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a small bowl, combine brown sugar, orange peel, garlic, salt, nutmeg, pepper, and cloves.
In a Dutch oven, arrange in layers: half of cabbage, half of onions and half of apples. Sprinkle with half of brown sugar mixture. Top with half of pepper strips. Repeat. Pour orange juice and vinegar over top. Bake covered for one hour.
Make 1/4 inch deep slashes at 2 inch intervals in kielbasa. Place in Dutch oven, pressing down to partially cover kielbasa with pan juices. Bake covered for 30 minutes longer.
I love the different colors present in this dish before it goes in the oven--the purple of the cabbage, the white onions, the creamy color of the apples, the red peppers. It's aesthetically pleasing. And it smells great while it's cooking. After it's cooked, everything takes on the purple hue of the cabbage, but it's still pretty. And a confession: I love dishes like this because they are very self-contained. I don't need to think up anything to "go with" my main course. It's all there! The Beloved and I will enjoy this:
and this:
I know--it's hard to see. This is a Columbia Crest Gewurztraminer. It's a nice, light, sweet wine with apple notes. We're drinking wine because The Beloved prefers wine to beer. His reaction to beer is similar to his reaction to my wearing perfume. One could easily serve this with a nice ale or bitter--which is what I generally do.
One final note on this dinner: The longer you're able to let this cook and sit and stew, the better. The Beloved got home from work at about 6:20, and I had a rehearsal at 7:00. This meant I ate enough to keep my stomach from growling along as we sang and planned to eat a little bit more when I got home. What I ate at 6:30 was good. What I ate at 8:30 was divine. I left the covered pan in the oven at 170-ish degrees (the WARM setting) for the duration of my rehearsal. When I got home, the kielbasa was absolutely perfect--it melted in my mouth--and the other flavors had a little more time to meld adding to the delightfulness of this dish. Like many a stew, this only gets better on Day 2, so I'm hoping I can hide enough from Resident Sibling to have for lunch at work tomorrow.
Good night and Bon Appetit!
Here's what you need:
1/4 c. light brown sugar, firmly packed
1 tbsp. grated orange peel
1 clove garlic
1 1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/4 tsp. pepper
1/8 tsp. ground cloves
2 lb. head cabbage, shredded (about 12 c.)
3 medium onions, sliced (I used sweet onion)
3 medium cooking apples, pared, cored and sliced (I used granny smith)
1 lg. red pepper, cut in thin strips
1/2 c. orange juice
1/2 cup wine vinegar
1 (2 lb.) ring kielbasa (It's better if you can find a fresh sausage--trust me. But if you can't find one, a Hillshire Farms or other pre-packaged, pre-cooked kielbasa will work just fine.)
Here's what you do:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a small bowl, combine brown sugar, orange peel, garlic, salt, nutmeg, pepper, and cloves.
An aside: Grating orange peel is not fun. It always takes me forever and the peel always ends up stuck in the grater. If any of you have come up with a great way of completing this task, please let me know. Overall, prep took me much longer than usual because I can't find the magic piece of my Cuisinart that allows for the slicing of things. So, I did it all by hand. All of it. Note to self: Ask The Beloved where that piece is and make him swear never to hide it again under penalty of death. I've proved today I can handle a kitchen knife, thank you.
In a Dutch oven, arrange in layers: half of cabbage, half of onions and half of apples. Sprinkle with half of brown sugar mixture. Top with half of pepper strips. Repeat. Pour orange juice and vinegar over top. Bake covered for one hour.An aside: I can't find my Dutch oven so I used my little roaster. What you want, basically is something large enough to hold all the ingredients, has a cover, and can safely sit in the oven. This doesn't mean I'm not begging The Beloved for Le Creuset's French Oven.
Make 1/4 inch deep slashes at 2 inch intervals in kielbasa. Place in Dutch oven, pressing down to partially cover kielbasa with pan juices. Bake covered for 30 minutes longer.
I love the different colors present in this dish before it goes in the oven--the purple of the cabbage, the white onions, the creamy color of the apples, the red peppers. It's aesthetically pleasing. And it smells great while it's cooking. After it's cooked, everything takes on the purple hue of the cabbage, but it's still pretty. And a confession: I love dishes like this because they are very self-contained. I don't need to think up anything to "go with" my main course. It's all there! The Beloved and I will enjoy this:
and this:
I know--it's hard to see. This is a Columbia Crest Gewurztraminer. It's a nice, light, sweet wine with apple notes. We're drinking wine because The Beloved prefers wine to beer. His reaction to beer is similar to his reaction to my wearing perfume. One could easily serve this with a nice ale or bitter--which is what I generally do.
One final note on this dinner: The longer you're able to let this cook and sit and stew, the better. The Beloved got home from work at about 6:20, and I had a rehearsal at 7:00. This meant I ate enough to keep my stomach from growling along as we sang and planned to eat a little bit more when I got home. What I ate at 6:30 was good. What I ate at 8:30 was divine. I left the covered pan in the oven at 170-ish degrees (the WARM setting) for the duration of my rehearsal. When I got home, the kielbasa was absolutely perfect--it melted in my mouth--and the other flavors had a little more time to meld adding to the delightfulness of this dish. Like many a stew, this only gets better on Day 2, so I'm hoping I can hide enough from Resident Sibling to have for lunch at work tomorrow.Good night and Bon Appetit!
- 5:20 PM
- 5 Comments
Lovely Libby tagged me for this meme that originated from a Vanity Fair feature called “My Stuff”. In “My Stuff” people are asked to reveal their favorite things. As they are my favorite things, some of them are not suitable for every day. If I have a favorite frivolous and favorite utilitarian item, I'll let you know. So, without further ado, let's peruse my stuff!
Jeans: My Calvin Kleins. They are nothing spectacular, but they fit perfectly. Or they used to fit perfectly until my weight started to drop. Not that I'm complaining about that--but....my jeans!
Underwear: Frivolous pick: Mary Green. Everyday favorite: Victoria's Secret T-Shirt Bra (I particularly like their new "Secret Embrace" line) and hiphuggers (particularly of the "no show" variety).
Watch: I wear a Citizen Eco-Drive every day and I love it, but my absolute favorite is probably my counterfeit Rolex (Lorex?) purchased by my father from some street vendor in Malaysia.
T-Shirt: Old Navy.
Day Bag: Sherpani Trevina.
Evening Bag: I have one that was hand made for me by one of the students from a conversational English class I taught in Aoyama (a very high-rent district of Tokyo). It's gorgeous. I love it.
Cell Phone: My current one is pretty sweet--a Kyocera Switchback. It handles my schedule, allows me to send text messages and IMs and actually sends my photos. If only it cleaned the litter box...
Blackberry or Treo: N/A
Lipstick: Oh, this is something put-together women remember to apply before leaving the house, right? Yeah. That would not include me on most days. I do, however absolutely love my Murad Vitalic Energizing Pomegranate Lip Therapy. On days I want people to think I'm put-together and adult, I favor Revlon ColorStay (Rich Raisin).
Mascara: Cover Girl LashExact (though I'm thinking of branching out and trying their VolumeExact as well...)
Nail Polish: Opi.
Soap: Vermont Soap.
Shampoo: Currently, it's Nature's Gate.
Moisturizer: Karin Herzog Oxygen Face.
Hair Product: N/A. It's been a while since I've used anything more than shampoo and conditioner...
Perfume or Cologne: A little-known fact--The Beloved is very sensitive to scents. I mean very sensitive. My wearing any perfume usually ends up with him choking to death on post-nasal drip. He even has a hard time with scented lotion! Before I discovered this, I used to wear Clinique Happy. Now, I'm lucky if I can get away with Kiss My Face body lotion in Lavender and Shea Butter.
Toothpaste: Crest ProHealth.
Now, as Libby so kindly pointed out, I'm a newbie, and I'm not entirely sure who reads me and blogs. If this applies to you, please consider yourself tagged!
Jeans: My Calvin Kleins. They are nothing spectacular, but they fit perfectly. Or they used to fit perfectly until my weight started to drop. Not that I'm complaining about that--but....my jeans!
Underwear: Frivolous pick: Mary Green. Everyday favorite: Victoria's Secret T-Shirt Bra (I particularly like their new "Secret Embrace" line) and hiphuggers (particularly of the "no show" variety).
An aside: Not long ago I was feeling distinctly unsexy and so started reading a book that had long been gathering dust on my shelf: The Good Girl's Guide to Bad Girl Sex. Ironically, I was already doing a lot of the things the author suggested. Who knew? But the one thing that hit home was doing a wardrobe audit--particularly concerning your underwear. Basically, if you couldn't picture the sexiest man alive (whoever that may be for you) ripping the article of clothing off you with his teeth, it had to go. Thus, I found myself with very little underwear. Now I have an index card in my drawer that says, "If you can't picture Johnny Depp ripping this off you with his teeth, throw it out!" Surprisingly, it helps. The Beloved is unimpressed, but since he seems to prefer me in my oldest cast-off sweatpants and threadbare t-shirts (or, even better, the ancient flannel nightie), I needed to step outside the box a little....Sneakers: New Balance
Watch: I wear a Citizen Eco-Drive every day and I love it, but my absolute favorite is probably my counterfeit Rolex (Lorex?) purchased by my father from some street vendor in Malaysia.
T-Shirt: Old Navy.
Day Bag: Sherpani Trevina.Evening Bag: I have one that was hand made for me by one of the students from a conversational English class I taught in Aoyama (a very high-rent district of Tokyo). It's gorgeous. I love it.
Cell Phone: My current one is pretty sweet--a Kyocera Switchback. It handles my schedule, allows me to send text messages and IMs and actually sends my photos. If only it cleaned the litter box...
Blackberry or Treo: N/A
Lipstick: Oh, this is something put-together women remember to apply before leaving the house, right? Yeah. That would not include me on most days. I do, however absolutely love my Murad Vitalic Energizing Pomegranate Lip Therapy. On days I want people to think I'm put-together and adult, I favor Revlon ColorStay (Rich Raisin).Mascara: Cover Girl LashExact (though I'm thinking of branching out and trying their VolumeExact as well...)
Nail Polish: Opi.
Soap: Vermont Soap.
Shampoo: Currently, it's Nature's Gate.
Moisturizer: Karin Herzog Oxygen Face.
Hair Product: N/A. It's been a while since I've used anything more than shampoo and conditioner...
Perfume or Cologne: A little-known fact--The Beloved is very sensitive to scents. I mean very sensitive. My wearing any perfume usually ends up with him choking to death on post-nasal drip. He even has a hard time with scented lotion! Before I discovered this, I used to wear Clinique Happy. Now, I'm lucky if I can get away with Kiss My Face body lotion in Lavender and Shea Butter.
Toothpaste: Crest ProHealth.
Now, as Libby so kindly pointed out, I'm a newbie, and I'm not entirely sure who reads me and blogs. If this applies to you, please consider yourself tagged!
- 9:26 AM
- 0 Comments
I knit Continental. But, until recently, I purled English. Fortunately, I could practice Continental purling with my Monthly Dishcloth KAL. I just finished the mid-month offering--Basket Weave in Sugar 'n Cream Soft Violet:
Pretty neat, huh? Here it is again in a little more detail:
Yes, I'm getting worked up over a dishcloth. It's purple!
Actually, all of the dishcloths I knit this month have been purple--or soft violet. The KAL from the beginning of this month was also purple (picture to follow). I'm thinking that I'll save these and give them to my mother. Her dishes have grapes on them (she has this Pfaltzgraff pattern) and she has a matching mural on the wall in her kitchen over her stove. I've still got some more Sugar n' Cream in soft violet, so perhaps I'll seek out a pattern with grapes.
Anyway. The first March KAL:
Bunny! Isn't it cute? I might have to make some more of these before Easter appears. We're hosting Easter Dinner this year. That means The Beloved and I will welcome: My parents; my two siblings; his parents; possibly his sibling and her significant other; possibly my aunt and uncle; possibly my cousin, her husband and their two kids; possibly my other cousin and her son; and the remote possibility of my uncle's son. So that gives us a grand total of 19.* What was I thinking? The one thing I can tell you for certain--we will be eating dinner off of our finest Chinet.
Speaking of Easter--it's the first full day of spring! And this is what it looked like outside of my office at 7:00 this evening:
Ah, spring.
*A correction: While standing in the shower and trying to wake up this morning, I realized I had left my grandmother off of the list of Easter Dinner guests. That brings us up to a possible 20. I just knew 19 was off--it would be too weird. 20 is much better. Anyone got any ideas on how to fit 20 people into a small ranch house?
Pretty neat, huh? Here it is again in a little more detail:
Yes, I'm getting worked up over a dishcloth. It's purple!
Actually, all of the dishcloths I knit this month have been purple--or soft violet. The KAL from the beginning of this month was also purple (picture to follow). I'm thinking that I'll save these and give them to my mother. Her dishes have grapes on them (she has this Pfaltzgraff pattern) and she has a matching mural on the wall in her kitchen over her stove. I've still got some more Sugar n' Cream in soft violet, so perhaps I'll seek out a pattern with grapes.
Anyway. The first March KAL:
Bunny! Isn't it cute? I might have to make some more of these before Easter appears. We're hosting Easter Dinner this year. That means The Beloved and I will welcome: My parents; my two siblings; his parents; possibly his sibling and her significant other; possibly my aunt and uncle; possibly my cousin, her husband and their two kids; possibly my other cousin and her son; and the remote possibility of my uncle's son. So that gives us a grand total of 19.* What was I thinking? The one thing I can tell you for certain--we will be eating dinner off of our finest Chinet.Speaking of Easter--it's the first full day of spring! And this is what it looked like outside of my office at 7:00 this evening:
Ah, spring.
*A correction: While standing in the shower and trying to wake up this morning, I realized I had left my grandmother off of the list of Easter Dinner guests. That brings us up to a possible 20. I just knew 19 was off--it would be too weird. 20 is much better. Anyone got any ideas on how to fit 20 people into a small ranch house?
- 10:13 PM
- 1 Comments
| Your Ideal Pet is a Cat |
 You're both aloof, introverted, and moody. And your friends secretly wish that you were declawed! |
- 4:03 PM
- 3 Comments
Yep. This about sums it up for me today. I'm moody and morose and not even knitting seems to help. So, it seems I have only a few choices left to me. I chose this one: comfort food. Now. For some people, comfort food consists of things like macaroni and cheese or ravioli from a can. (This is, in fact, what I resort to when in the absolute depths of despair. Thankfully, I'm not there yet.) I tried to be a bit more epicurean--particularly since I had to feed The Beloved and Resident Sibling (who had the audacity not to show up for dinner). The results of my labors?
Yessiree, I roasted me a chicken. My sainted mother once told me a very important secret about cooking that I will share with all of you now: The meals people like best are frequently the simplest to prepare. And it's true. It doesn't get much easier than roasting a chicken. Here's what I did. I poured some salt inside the body cavity and rubbed it down. I basted the chicken with butter (you could use olive oil if you wanted to cut out some of the saturated fat, but I'm moping--butter was necessary) and rubbed the outside with some poultry seasoning and Adobo (sin pimenta--the blue cap). I cooked it upside down for 20 minutes at 450; flipped it right side up and cooked it for another 20 minutes at 450; basted it again; turned the heat down to 375 and left it until the little timer popped. Based on The Beloved's reaction, you'd think I attended Le Cordon Bleu.
We had some mediocre bread stuffing and some broccoli to accompany the chicken. I'm not much of a bread stuffing girl myself--but The Beloved likes it. Next time, I think I'll go all out and make my mother's rice dressing (which I love and toward which The Beloved is ambivalent).
Unfortunately, I had to scarf dinner and run off to a meeting. We discussed the Millennium Development Goals. In all fairness, they discussed MDG and I knit on The Beloved's Blankie. Considering I haven't picked it up in several weeks, it's coming along nicely. I got a few rows done, so the evening wasn't a complete loss. Regrettably, the picture does not do it justice. Not that the blankie is all that and a bag of chips, mind you--it's a relatively simple feather and fan sort of thing made of the finest Red Heart Acrylic. But the color looks very washed out here. It's actually Claret in color--a lovely deep red/maroon. I think it looks very manly--well, for a blankie, that is.
And, even though it wasn't chilled when I partook of the fruit of my cooking labors, The Beloved picked up a bottle of vino on his way home from work. The upside: It was absolutely perfect by the time I returned home from the meeting. So, whatever the cooking and knitting didn't cure, I hope to fix with this and a nice bath. Cheers to you all!
Yessiree, I roasted me a chicken. My sainted mother once told me a very important secret about cooking that I will share with all of you now: The meals people like best are frequently the simplest to prepare. And it's true. It doesn't get much easier than roasting a chicken. Here's what I did. I poured some salt inside the body cavity and rubbed it down. I basted the chicken with butter (you could use olive oil if you wanted to cut out some of the saturated fat, but I'm moping--butter was necessary) and rubbed the outside with some poultry seasoning and Adobo (sin pimenta--the blue cap). I cooked it upside down for 20 minutes at 450; flipped it right side up and cooked it for another 20 minutes at 450; basted it again; turned the heat down to 375 and left it until the little timer popped. Based on The Beloved's reaction, you'd think I attended Le Cordon Bleu.We had some mediocre bread stuffing and some broccoli to accompany the chicken. I'm not much of a bread stuffing girl myself--but The Beloved likes it. Next time, I think I'll go all out and make my mother's rice dressing (which I love and toward which The Beloved is ambivalent).
Unfortunately, I had to scarf dinner and run off to a meeting. We discussed the Millennium Development Goals. In all fairness, they discussed MDG and I knit on The Beloved's Blankie. Considering I haven't picked it up in several weeks, it's coming along nicely. I got a few rows done, so the evening wasn't a complete loss. Regrettably, the picture does not do it justice. Not that the blankie is all that and a bag of chips, mind you--it's a relatively simple feather and fan sort of thing made of the finest Red Heart Acrylic. But the color looks very washed out here. It's actually Claret in color--a lovely deep red/maroon. I think it looks very manly--well, for a blankie, that is.
And, even though it wasn't chilled when I partook of the fruit of my cooking labors, The Beloved picked up a bottle of vino on his way home from work. The upside: It was absolutely perfect by the time I returned home from the meeting. So, whatever the cooking and knitting didn't cure, I hope to fix with this and a nice bath. Cheers to you all!- 9:56 PM
- 1 Comments
On Friday we got hit with an obscene amount of snow. Well, obscene since I'm ready for it to be spring. And since the snowblower we inherited finally decided to give up the ghost. Saturday was largely taken up with shoveling out so I could get to the craft store to purchase supplies for Sunday's Church School lesson. Yes, folks--this is life in the fast lane. After hours of shoveling, The Beloved in one of his moments of brilliance, suggested Chinese Takeout. It may have been the high point of the weekend.
I didn't get to knit or spin at all on Saturday due to hours of manual labor followed by the creation of two parable boxes for Sunday School. Sunday, however....
I completed the following: Watermelon Hat 2.0;
Airy Scarf;
Dishcloth KAL (well, we're not done yet--but I got current on the day-to-day allotted rows); gauge swatch for baby sweater. Nothing has been washed or blocked yet, and I still need to weave in the ends on Airy Scarf, but woot! I'm happy to be able to cross a couple of UFOs off my list. Yippee! Now, it's on to the Blue Lagoon Blankie. You know, the project isn't bad...sometimes row after row of garter stitch can be quite therapeutic. But....because of the striping, it doesn't travel well. Too many balls of yarn. And all those ends....maybe I should train one of the cats to weave them in....But I can work on that in between the now nearly finished dishcloth, a project that is yet-to-be-determined for my mother's birthday (unless I decide she gets the Airy Scarf), and the baby sweater for which I dutifully completed a gauge swatch.
On the kitty-cat front, Polly went to the groomer today. They gave her a modified lion cut. It's a little more dignified than the last lion cut she received--they shaved her entire tail instead of leaving a big, poofy ball at the end. However, long-haired cats with short haircuts look ridiculous no matter how you style them. The important thing is that she is clean and matt-free and that someone else cut all of her claws. The groomer commented on what a great cat she is--and Polly is a great cat--but this always comes as a surprise to me because when I try to brush, bathe or trim this cat, she tries to kill me. Seriously--I've got the scars to prove it. Apparently, for the groomer, she is all purrs and smiles and stands still while they do their thing. Sheesh.
Now that she's home, she's a bit grouchy. But how can you not love that sweet little face? No matter how grouchy she gets, she's still my baby.
I didn't get to knit or spin at all on Saturday due to hours of manual labor followed by the creation of two parable boxes for Sunday School. Sunday, however....
I completed the following: Watermelon Hat 2.0;
Airy Scarf;
Dishcloth KAL (well, we're not done yet--but I got current on the day-to-day allotted rows); gauge swatch for baby sweater. Nothing has been washed or blocked yet, and I still need to weave in the ends on Airy Scarf, but woot! I'm happy to be able to cross a couple of UFOs off my list. Yippee! Now, it's on to the Blue Lagoon Blankie. You know, the project isn't bad...sometimes row after row of garter stitch can be quite therapeutic. But....because of the striping, it doesn't travel well. Too many balls of yarn. And all those ends....maybe I should train one of the cats to weave them in....But I can work on that in between the now nearly finished dishcloth, a project that is yet-to-be-determined for my mother's birthday (unless I decide she gets the Airy Scarf), and the baby sweater for which I dutifully completed a gauge swatch.
On the kitty-cat front, Polly went to the groomer today. They gave her a modified lion cut. It's a little more dignified than the last lion cut she received--they shaved her entire tail instead of leaving a big, poofy ball at the end. However, long-haired cats with short haircuts look ridiculous no matter how you style them. The important thing is that she is clean and matt-free and that someone else cut all of her claws. The groomer commented on what a great cat she is--and Polly is a great cat--but this always comes as a surprise to me because when I try to brush, bathe or trim this cat, she tries to kill me. Seriously--I've got the scars to prove it. Apparently, for the groomer, she is all purrs and smiles and stands still while they do their thing. Sheesh.
Now that she's home, she's a bit grouchy. But how can you not love that sweet little face? No matter how grouchy she gets, she's still my baby.
- 9:10 PM
- 1 Comments
Do you see? Isn't it wonderful? This, my friends, is my new drop spindle. Courtesy of LauraJ, the great enabler. To continue the enabling trend, we are going to go to The Elegant Ewe after work today to buy more roving so that I can practice. Oh, and to generally misbehave and probably purchase things that neither of us require at this point in time. Needless to say, I am not focused on cataloging or on providing research assistance to anyone who may call. Nor am I thinking about the Sunday School lessons I'll have to put together tomorrow for use on Sunday. I'm thinking about playing with my new spindle and how much fun it may or may not be with kitty-cat help.If you look closely you can see my first feeble attempts at spinning. It's very unimpressive. But we all must begin somewhere. I am apparently at the low edge of the learning curve. I will, however, keep in mind my grandmother's stories about the first sweaters she knit. By the time I was receiving gifts of sweaters, the woman produced heirloom quality garments. Beautiful, elaborate Norwegian sweaters. "The first one I made was so tight your grandfather couldn't even put it on." But, apparently, she kept plugging away until she got it right. It's a shame that she had stopped knitting by the time I had stopped growing as beautiful sweaters I had were all outgrown...by more than one child...and then shipped off to Good Will or yard sales.
Should I fail to post over the weekend, think of me fondly--living in the house once owned by this same grandmother--swearing at my ineptitude as I spin right round.
- 1:29 PM
- 0 Comments
Julius Caesar certainly didn't follow this advice, so I didn't either. Fortunately, my day was much better than his.This morning, Libby posted about a special sort of triumvirate--a trifecta of birthdays. This got me thinking--not about birthdays, but about triumvirates and their various manifestations through time in various political systems.
The first Roman triumvirate contains our friend, Gaius Julius Caesar, Marcus Licinius Crassus, and Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus. Surprisingly, it had no official status whatsoever. This doesn't mean it wasn't powerful--however, its power all came from the influence of the individual triumviri. Once the group went public, however, there was little to stop them gaining whatever they wished. The triumvirate eventually broke apart as its members began to die, but showed signs of weakening even before 53 BC when Crassus left this world for the next. It was to be expected--as the Highlander later said, "There can be only one." Though the triumviri used each other to gain power and control, they were never really what we would call buddies.
The first triumvirate ended in civil war following the murder of Julius Caesar on the Ides of March. It was followed, after much bloodshed and battling, by the Second Triumvirate, composed of Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus, Marcus Aemilius Lepidus, and Marcus Antonius. Unlike the earlier triumvirate, this one was sanctioned by Roman law--their power was official. Like the earlier triumvirate, however, this was a marriage of convenience and not one of love. Prior to its creation, the triumviri were busily trying to kill each other in what is now modern-day Bologna. Many of us know the end of this dictatorial group from our study of Shakespeare: Antony goes to Egypt, falls in love with Cleopatra, thus ignoring his wife (who happens to be Octavian's sister). Octavian proclaims Antony a traitor. The man, after all, is in Egypt, living with Egyptians--he has obviously lost track of all that is good and Roman. They go to war. Antony and Cleopatra die. And, since "there can be only one," Lepidus is marginalized and Octavian becomes Augustus--first Emperor of Rome.
Triumvirates are fun, but I prefer Troikas--the Russian take on the same general concept. That the Russians borrow from the Romans should surprise no one. They called their emperors "Czars," a word derived from "Caesar." Historically, when things go bad in Russia, a troika steps in and cleans up. They tend not to be warm and fuzzy. They became particularly popular after the Bolsheviks took power, as groups of three were very significant--they are the smallest democratic voting groups possible. Soon, troikas were used to help "bring order" and "control the masses." They became (in)famous during the purges in there role as instruments of extrajudicial punishment.
So, why are you getting this little refresher in political history? Well, because when I read the aforementioned birthday post this morning, I thought about triumvirates and troikas and how they relate to my life. You see, when I was an undergraduate, I had two very dear friends with whom I did most everything. We lived in the same dorm. We ate meals together. We went out together. We caused trouble together. And eventually, we earned a nickname--you guessed it--The Troika. I promise, we did not try to purge the University of Poles or Ukrainians (I would have had to go with them). But that was our name--for three years, we were known as The Troika.
Then, I went away for a semester. And while I was gone, a new member came to fill my place in The Troika. When I returned, we morphed into The Gang of Four. In China, you see, they didn't fall back on Troikas and Triumvirates. But they did have The Gang of Four, which was the group under the Communist Regime on which all the blame for the Cultural Revolution fell in 1976 or thereabouts. All in all, they probably were not too different from a Soviet Troika.
You know, I never asked why we had be christened with such a nickname. Were we frightening and intimidating like a Troika? Was it because I'm part Russian and had a Russian surname? Did it just sound cool? In retrospect, we probably should have been wary of the young men who gave us this dubious moniker. Instead, I and another member of the Troika ended up dating two of them. We, like Caesar, failed to heed the soothsayer's warning. But, unlike Caesar, we came out the other end alive and ready to try again.
And, for the record, I am in touch with all members of the Troika/Gang of Four. SJH is the intended recipient of the as-yet-unchosen shawl, HMF is studying to be a nurse out on the western reaches of the state, and ESB introduced me to The Beloved (and I still talk to her--it's either loyalty or insanity, I tell you). So, unlike the triumvirates and troikas and gangs of four that history has given us, I think we might be destined for a long and successful career as ours is based in friendship--a concept that goes against the theory that "there can be only one."
- 9:56 PM
- 1 Comments
Because some days you just don't feel like earning your keep....
This is what I would look like if I had a guest shot on South Park:
Wanna join me? You can create your own South Park Character here or here. Procrastinators of the world, unite!
This is what I would look like if I had a guest shot on South Park:
Wanna join me? You can create your own South Park Character here or here. Procrastinators of the world, unite!
- 10:52 AM
- 1 Comments
OK. I need to start a new knitting project like I need another hole in my head. I'm very aware of this. However, I've been toying with the idea of knitting a lace stole/shawl for quite some time. You see, I have a friend who is engaged (I don't think she reads me, so I can explain in a little detail and hopefully keep this a sort of surprise), and I want to make her something special for her wedding. They haven't set a date yet, but I'm pretty sure one will materialize at some point in time.
I know she will want to keep things simple. That's just how she is. Plus, I think I remember her saying, "I just want to keep things simple." I feel as though the stole/shawl, if done correctly, will be simple yet elegant--hence, absolutely perfect. In fact, I've already chosen the color--more or less. I'm thinking of knitting it in Knit Picks Shimmer in the Morning Mist colorway. That way, she has her "something blue," right?
My friend also has a history with, or connection to the water up here on the North Atlantic. She taught sailing and summered up on the coast of Maine. I've been up to the place in Maine with her several times, and it's one of those places where everything just fits, if you know what I mean. So, I want to give her something that can hold some of those memories. The blue fits really well here, too--because if you've been up to the North Atlantic it isn't the deep turquoise water of the Caribbean. It's both misty and steely. It's beautiful and powerful--a lot like my friend.
Let me tell you, choosing a pattern that says all of these things has been an absolute nightmare, and I've toyed with designing my own--but that would create its own unique level of horror. It's still a possibility, and I've been knitting swatches from the Barbara Walker books looking to see if there's something there that really works for me....but, truth be told, I am lazy and would prefer to buy a pattern and yarn, sit down and work on it till finished (yes, I can finish objects, I've just chosen not to do so for the past several months), block it, wrap it up, and give it to her at the appropriate time. Designing my own stole/shawl pattern seems a bit daunting.
Anyway. Here are some of the current contenders. Originally, I was opposed to doing a shawl, because she doesn't strike me as a circular or triangle shawl type of gal (who knows--there could be one lurking in there, but I doubt it). Then I saw this: Shoalwater from Fiber Trends. When I saw this version, I absolutely fell in love--even though it certainly wasn't what I was looking for. (This is funny because it's pretty much how I feel about The Beloved--he really wasn't what I was looking for, but I fell in love with him anyway...)
In the stole category, I'm looking at another two patterns from Fiber Trends: Baltic Sea Stole and River Scarf and Stole. Both are lovely, but neither scream out to me "I am the one!"
So, I turn to you, kind and friendly reader. What do you think? Do any of these shawls speak to you, or should I continue searching and swatching until she sets a date and I really have to kick into gear?
I know she will want to keep things simple. That's just how she is. Plus, I think I remember her saying, "I just want to keep things simple." I feel as though the stole/shawl, if done correctly, will be simple yet elegant--hence, absolutely perfect. In fact, I've already chosen the color--more or less. I'm thinking of knitting it in Knit Picks Shimmer in the Morning Mist colorway. That way, she has her "something blue," right?
My friend also has a history with, or connection to the water up here on the North Atlantic. She taught sailing and summered up on the coast of Maine. I've been up to the place in Maine with her several times, and it's one of those places where everything just fits, if you know what I mean. So, I want to give her something that can hold some of those memories. The blue fits really well here, too--because if you've been up to the North Atlantic it isn't the deep turquoise water of the Caribbean. It's both misty and steely. It's beautiful and powerful--a lot like my friend.
Let me tell you, choosing a pattern that says all of these things has been an absolute nightmare, and I've toyed with designing my own--but that would create its own unique level of horror. It's still a possibility, and I've been knitting swatches from the Barbara Walker books looking to see if there's something there that really works for me....but, truth be told, I am lazy and would prefer to buy a pattern and yarn, sit down and work on it till finished (yes, I can finish objects, I've just chosen not to do so for the past several months), block it, wrap it up, and give it to her at the appropriate time. Designing my own stole/shawl pattern seems a bit daunting.
Anyway. Here are some of the current contenders. Originally, I was opposed to doing a shawl, because she doesn't strike me as a circular or triangle shawl type of gal (who knows--there could be one lurking in there, but I doubt it). Then I saw this: Shoalwater from Fiber Trends. When I saw this version, I absolutely fell in love--even though it certainly wasn't what I was looking for. (This is funny because it's pretty much how I feel about The Beloved--he really wasn't what I was looking for, but I fell in love with him anyway...)
In the stole category, I'm looking at another two patterns from Fiber Trends: Baltic Sea Stole and River Scarf and Stole. Both are lovely, but neither scream out to me "I am the one!"
So, I turn to you, kind and friendly reader. What do you think? Do any of these shawls speak to you, or should I continue searching and swatching until she sets a date and I really have to kick into gear?
- 9:29 AM
- 1 Comments
...Not. Today they brought me a little too much excitement. I came into my bedroom to find that one of the little darlings apparently got confused and thought my bed would work as a substitute for the litter box. This is my prime suspect: 
Yes, this is Polly. Polly of the expensive emergency trip to the vet two weeks ago. I tell you, it's a good thing she's cute because she was very nearly dead. But, instead of killing the cat, I decided to take the high road. In fact, I took the high road straight to Marshalls for some emergency shopping.
Her accident (I'm assuming that's what it was, and not an act of utter maliciousness) has effectively rendered my down comforter useless. I could take it to the dry cleaners, but since several layers of bedding were, um, wet when I found them, I do not have positive feelings. The comforter led a good life and is now going to be unceremoniously retired. Spring is coming, so I don't feel as though I need a new one immediately; however, it's not warm enough for us to entirely relinquish the heavier blanket. Fortunately, we had a backup in the closet. Unfortunately, it's white. Hence, the emergency trip to Marshalls where I found this for $25.
It's taupe. I don't know how much more boring I could have gotten--but there weren't all that many choices (chocolate and red were the also-rans) and I really didn't feel like hitting every shop in town at 8:00 PM. While I do enjoy shopping for home decor, it can be quite trying. The Beloved and I do not have similar tastes. I can be 90% sure that anything I choose, he'll hate--and vice-versa. Praise Jesus, he doesn't mind the taupe. In fact, he's happy because it matches the current decor of the room. Perhaps he only likes it because I bought it solely out of need and not because I find it attractive in the slightest.
And because I felt deserving of some extra-special treatment, I got myself a present--isn't it cute? The Beloved says it should have "Get It Here" embroidered across the front instead of the flowers. What a charmer!
With all the excitement, there hasn't been much time for knitting. Which is OK. I feel less guilty about leaving the Blue Lagoon Blanket wadded up in a ball on the corner of the couch. I did do some work tonight--on a gauge swatch for a baby sweater. The blanket called me names and questioned my fidelity. I promised it I would knit on it during "movie night" this week. Hopefully that will placate it for the time being....
In the meantime, there is only one way to end a day such as this. Yes, you guessed it. An evening with my favorite patriot:
Yes, this is Polly. Polly of the expensive emergency trip to the vet two weeks ago. I tell you, it's a good thing she's cute because she was very nearly dead. But, instead of killing the cat, I decided to take the high road. In fact, I took the high road straight to Marshalls for some emergency shopping.
Her accident (I'm assuming that's what it was, and not an act of utter maliciousness) has effectively rendered my down comforter useless. I could take it to the dry cleaners, but since several layers of bedding were, um, wet when I found them, I do not have positive feelings. The comforter led a good life and is now going to be unceremoniously retired. Spring is coming, so I don't feel as though I need a new one immediately; however, it's not warm enough for us to entirely relinquish the heavier blanket. Fortunately, we had a backup in the closet. Unfortunately, it's white. Hence, the emergency trip to Marshalls where I found this for $25.
It's taupe. I don't know how much more boring I could have gotten--but there weren't all that many choices (chocolate and red were the also-rans) and I really didn't feel like hitting every shop in town at 8:00 PM. While I do enjoy shopping for home decor, it can be quite trying. The Beloved and I do not have similar tastes. I can be 90% sure that anything I choose, he'll hate--and vice-versa. Praise Jesus, he doesn't mind the taupe. In fact, he's happy because it matches the current decor of the room. Perhaps he only likes it because I bought it solely out of need and not because I find it attractive in the slightest.
And because I felt deserving of some extra-special treatment, I got myself a present--isn't it cute? The Beloved says it should have "Get It Here" embroidered across the front instead of the flowers. What a charmer!With all the excitement, there hasn't been much time for knitting. Which is OK. I feel less guilty about leaving the Blue Lagoon Blanket wadded up in a ball on the corner of the couch. I did do some work tonight--on a gauge swatch for a baby sweater. The blanket called me names and questioned my fidelity. I promised it I would knit on it during "movie night" this week. Hopefully that will placate it for the time being....
In the meantime, there is only one way to end a day such as this. Yes, you guessed it. An evening with my favorite patriot:
- 9:23 PM
- 0 Comments
A few weeks ago, we were blessed with a snow day. I took the opportunity to be industrious and I knit a hat. This hat, in fact.I'm not as thrilled with it as I hoped I would be. The idea, I think, was a good one, and the hat is not atrocious. Unfortunately, I didn't have a small enough circular needle, and my attempt to knit this using the "magic loop" method were not as successful as perhaps it could or should have been. I also think I chose poorly in the way I added the "seeds," as I have a couple that threaten to unravel or drop stitches or do other evil things that are simply unacceptable in a hat intended for a small child.
The hat is tiny. I'd guess it would work for 0-3 months. You can adjust it a little with the I-cord tie. Or use the tie to make sure the hat stays on the baby's head. Here's the hat again--this time, on The Beloved's cat, Gabriel. [Note: The cat must be feeling mellow today because he didn't even try to claw my eyes out for this indignity. I hope he isn't getting sick...]
I admit, putting this hat on the cat was cruel, and probably something done in kitty torture camps. In fact, I could probably get kicked out of the ACLU and Amnesty International for this sort of behavior. Or, I could send the picture to Stuff on my Cat and see if it makes this week's "cut." Never mind, though--I digress. The Beloved feels that this hat, in and of itself, is an evil creation and that we should probably bury it in the backyard and never speak of it again. He hasn't even seen the picture of the cat in the hat. (Sorry...that was really bad. I'll try not to do it again.) When shown the completed hat (which I currently refer to as my "prototype," because I intend to knit a better one at some point in the next week or so), all my sweetheart could say was, "Why?"
"Because it's cute."
"You would put that on a baby? You're meaner than I thought. That's terrible. Poor kid can't defend itself and you put that on its head."
So I pondered. In my opinion, it is acceptable--nay, it is necessary that one create or purchase obscenely cute/borderline ridiculous items for babies. Were I to knit a watermelon hat for my husband, my father, or one of my contemporaries, that might show questionable judgment. But for a two-month-old baby girl? Of course she needs a watermelon hat! That goes without saying! My female friends who had the dubious honor of seeing the watermelon hat the day The Beloved confronted me with my supposed cruelty confirm my belief that the hat is, in fact, ridiculously cute and eminently appropriate for an infant. In fact, one could easily get away with making one for a toddler.
The Beloved is still skeptical--only now, it isn't just me. Interest in the watermelon hat has led him to believe that all women are inherently cruel and somehow get off on torturing small children through purchase of cute things. Which of us is right? I'll let you decide. In the meantime, where did I put the pink yarn and the circular needles.....
- 3:12 PM
- 2 Comments
See the nice, even, orderly balls of yarn? This is the current state of the moss stitch baby blanket. I decided to just pull the darned thing out and start over. I was knitting with two strands of yarn held together throughout and if I realized what an absolute pain in the ass it was going to be to rewind the yarn, I may have seen the wretched thing through. Frogging took no time at all. Untangling the yarn--that took me through a viewing of The Usual Suspects, a documentary on the History Channel, and two episodes of Law and Order: Criminal Intent on Bravo. Can you see a neck behind the yarn? Yeah--that's Gaius Octavian Caesar. Fortunately I was done tangling in time to watch this week's installation of Rome on HBO. Antony and Cleopatra met at the end of tonight's episode. The anticipation almost makes up for the yarn debacle. Almost. The bad news is there are only two episodes left--which is a shame, because this has been an excellent series.
This has actually been a weekend steeped in the ancient world. Well, sort of. Yesterday, The Beloved and I went and saw 300. It was excellent eye candy. Very stylized--if you didn't know it was based on a graphic novel going in, you could tell based solely on the cinematography. You could almost see the movement from frame to frame, the blood spatter hung in the air. It was unbelievable. The writing, however, brought us right back to Planet Earth. Holy cow. It was like a montage of every testosterone war flick ever. If you've read the review in The New York Times, they hit the nail square on the head. The Beloved was entranced. Must be a boy thing.
But enough of my weekend entertainment. Did you notice? A picture of yarn? My camera phone is finally sending pictures and so I can post them. The quality is a little lousy, but it works. For now. Until I can motivate enough to acquire a real camera. But that takes a lot of energy, and as you can see, I've got quite a bit of knitting to do...
- 9:48 PM
- 1 Comments
On Thursday nights I have church choir rehearsal from 7:00-8:00, or whenever we finish up. Last night we ran late due to unbearable silliness.
The choir is small on its best days--last night there were three of us there: the director (who also happens to be my mother); one of the altos; and me. This, naturally, provided the perfect recipe for trouble.
We are singing a lot of spirituals, both as anthems and as congregational hymn, during Lent and Holy Week this year. However, we are a very white choir. Very. White. So, my poor mother tries to find ways of making us sound a little less so. Sing like an opera singer. Do this. Try that. And at times like this, I'm always reminded of my college Concert Choir Director, Dr. Howard. I did my undergraduate work at UNH, and our choir there was also very white. Dr. Howard, however, was not. And he would tell us, particularly when we were working on spirituals, that although we were all his little white children, he would make it so no one would know that by listening to us. Well, K.E., the intrepid alto who made it to rehearsal last night, also sang for Dr. Howard (her experience was during an NH All-State festival). She told a story about a group of white high school-aged kids from NH singing a jazz mass and Dr. Howard trying to coax a less-white sound from the ensemble. After trying a number of things, he tells them: "Close your eyes. Imagine you are in New York City and you're in a part of town where there are hookers walkin' the streets. And you see this woman in a red dress cut down to here (points at midsection) and up to here (points to hip). Now I want you to sound like that dress looks."
Naturally, this works. It works as well, if not better, than Mom telling us to imagine we're opera singers. However, it leads to a number of red dress comments throughout the rest of the evening. I said I'd wear mine to church on Sunday (I think it's even "cut down to there"), since we're singing I Want Jesus to Walk With Me.
Then we pull out Easter music. We'll be singing Wade in the Water during the Baptism at the Easter Vigil. Everything goes fine until we get to the second verse:
Needless to say, we could not make it through verse two of this particular spiritual. All we could picture was Moses with a band of hookers wearing red dresses cut down to there and up to here. I'm wondering how we're going to make it through the hymn at the Easter Vigil. Fortunately, we have several weeks to build up our resolve and/or pray for strength. After all, the responses during the baptismal covenant are "I will, with God's help."
In the meantime, Mom has told me to save the red dress for Pentecost.
The choir is small on its best days--last night there were three of us there: the director (who also happens to be my mother); one of the altos; and me. This, naturally, provided the perfect recipe for trouble.
We are singing a lot of spirituals, both as anthems and as congregational hymn, during Lent and Holy Week this year. However, we are a very white choir. Very. White. So, my poor mother tries to find ways of making us sound a little less so. Sing like an opera singer. Do this. Try that. And at times like this, I'm always reminded of my college Concert Choir Director, Dr. Howard. I did my undergraduate work at UNH, and our choir there was also very white. Dr. Howard, however, was not. And he would tell us, particularly when we were working on spirituals, that although we were all his little white children, he would make it so no one would know that by listening to us. Well, K.E., the intrepid alto who made it to rehearsal last night, also sang for Dr. Howard (her experience was during an NH All-State festival). She told a story about a group of white high school-aged kids from NH singing a jazz mass and Dr. Howard trying to coax a less-white sound from the ensemble. After trying a number of things, he tells them: "Close your eyes. Imagine you are in New York City and you're in a part of town where there are hookers walkin' the streets. And you see this woman in a red dress cut down to here (points at midsection) and up to here (points to hip). Now I want you to sound like that dress looks."
Naturally, this works. It works as well, if not better, than Mom telling us to imagine we're opera singers. However, it leads to a number of red dress comments throughout the rest of the evening. I said I'd wear mine to church on Sunday (I think it's even "cut down to there"), since we're singing I Want Jesus to Walk With Me.
Then we pull out Easter music. We'll be singing Wade in the Water during the Baptism at the Easter Vigil. Everything goes fine until we get to the second verse:
See that band all dressed in red.
God's a-gonna trouble the water.
Looks like the band that Moses led.
God's a-gonna trouble the water.
God's a-gonna trouble the water.
Looks like the band that Moses led.
God's a-gonna trouble the water.
Needless to say, we could not make it through verse two of this particular spiritual. All we could picture was Moses with a band of hookers wearing red dresses cut down to there and up to here. I'm wondering how we're going to make it through the hymn at the Easter Vigil. Fortunately, we have several weeks to build up our resolve and/or pray for strength. After all, the responses during the baptismal covenant are "I will, with God's help."
In the meantime, Mom has told me to save the red dress for Pentecost.
- 9:50 AM
- 0 Comments
Because that's all I've done for two days of knitting.... *sigh*
I'm attempting to knit some washcloths for my grandmother. I've got one done. It's cute. I used this pattern and knit it in Bernat's Cottontots yarn (lovely lilac). It went so well, I launched right into washcloth number two last night. Same type of yarn, only in sunshine rather than lovely lilac. Choosing a pattern, though... Yikes.
It's normal to start in on a pattern and just not like how it's coming out. So you frog and start over. I think I did this about five times last night. I finally settled on this pattern, and really liked the way the simple lace pattern looks with this nice, plush cotton yarn. However, after knitting several rows, I realized it wasn't symmetric. It wasn't asymmetric either. It was just, well, WRONG. So, rip, rip, rip, and back to bare needles. I altered the pattern so that the cloth is now symmetric, but when I started this evening, I did two rows with totally incorrect decreases. When I took out the offending rows, I was missing a stitch. It was not to be found anywhere. So, with much chagrin I ripped everything out and am now at about the same place I was last night before putting the damned washcloth down and going to bed.
Since I'm obviously on some sort of roll, I'm considering frogging the moss stitch baby blanket. I like it less every time I look at it. No border. Goofy gauge change. I don't know that it's completely hopeless, but it certainly doesn't give me much enjoyment. I like the yarn, and I like the idea of a moss stitch baby blanket, but I really don't like this particular baby blanket. I think I'm going to do it. I suppose that's one way to get items off of my unfinished objects list!
When I finish the Blue Lagoon Blanket, I think I'll give a moss stitch blanket another go. I'd like to knit it like a "grandmother's favorite" dishcloth, only in moss stitch rather than in garter or stockinette. What do you think?
I'm attempting to knit some washcloths for my grandmother. I've got one done. It's cute. I used this pattern and knit it in Bernat's Cottontots yarn (lovely lilac). It went so well, I launched right into washcloth number two last night. Same type of yarn, only in sunshine rather than lovely lilac. Choosing a pattern, though... Yikes.
It's normal to start in on a pattern and just not like how it's coming out. So you frog and start over. I think I did this about five times last night. I finally settled on this pattern, and really liked the way the simple lace pattern looks with this nice, plush cotton yarn. However, after knitting several rows, I realized it wasn't symmetric. It wasn't asymmetric either. It was just, well, WRONG. So, rip, rip, rip, and back to bare needles. I altered the pattern so that the cloth is now symmetric, but when I started this evening, I did two rows with totally incorrect decreases. When I took out the offending rows, I was missing a stitch. It was not to be found anywhere. So, with much chagrin I ripped everything out and am now at about the same place I was last night before putting the damned washcloth down and going to bed.
Since I'm obviously on some sort of roll, I'm considering frogging the moss stitch baby blanket. I like it less every time I look at it. No border. Goofy gauge change. I don't know that it's completely hopeless, but it certainly doesn't give me much enjoyment. I like the yarn, and I like the idea of a moss stitch baby blanket, but I really don't like this particular baby blanket. I think I'm going to do it. I suppose that's one way to get items off of my unfinished objects list!
When I finish the Blue Lagoon Blanket, I think I'll give a moss stitch blanket another go. I'd like to knit it like a "grandmother's favorite" dishcloth, only in moss stitch rather than in garter or stockinette. What do you think?
- 10:36 PM
- 2 Comments
I saw this over at A Study of Schoolbooks & Shoes this morning, and since I was on the desk (no workstudy--*Sigh*), decided that this morning was an excellent time for a quiz.
Since windchill factor will keep us at about 20 below today...and most of this week...I'm having a hard time thinking of myself in any sort of bathing suit at all!
| You Are a Retro Bikini! |
 You prefer a bikini that's flirty and feminine, not flashy. You look sweet and sexy - a rarity on the beach these days! |
Since windchill factor will keep us at about 20 below today...and most of this week...I'm having a hard time thinking of myself in any sort of bathing suit at all!
- 11:12 AM
- 1 Comments
This morning when I arrived at work to open the library, there was a new key on my desk. Apparently, they changed the locks on the computer labs last night. After I finished opening the building--a process that involves not only opening the front door, but includes unlocking the student success center, the office behind the circulation desk, the media room and three computer labs--I sat down to put the new key on my ring and take inventory.
I now have eight keys on the key ring I use for work. EIGHT! We're not talking a huge library, folks--it's a collection of approximately 20,000 items that supports about 200 students. Yet I have the following: a key for the front door of the library; a key for my office that also unlocks the kitchen and a variety of closets; a key for the office behind the circulation desk; a key for the media room; a key for the computer labs; a key for the student success center; a key for the projector in the conference room; and a key for the mail room in the administrative building. I'm supposed to be getting another two keys for the file cabinets that house replacement ink jet cartridges and tablets for the art programs. I jingle like a jailer when I walk. Haven't these people heard of a master key?
Granted, our house has a different key for every lock, so I shouldn't throw stones. But The Beloved and I have discussed having the locks changed so that the doors could all be opened on the same key--my mother did that last year. It was a brilliant move. We may try to do it this summer, depending on how our finances are, or we may do it when sibling moves out. I have visions of putting all of sibling's belongings on the front lawn and having the locks changed. No, I'm not a nice person. This could all work out just fine....
The other day I promised I would write more about the statement from the Presiding Bishop and the response from Bishop Robinson regarding our "season of fasting" in ECUSA. Unfortunately, I don't really have a lot to add. I have nothing erudite to say and nothing important to contribute. You can view a conversation with the Presiding Bishop or read her opening remarks here, and you can access Bishop Robinson's response here.
The entire situation mostly makes me sad. Perhaps I suffer the effects of a very small brain, but I don't understand. I don't understand why a person's sexual preference makes him/her a sinner. I don't understand why it should hold him/her back in a chosen profession--be it doctor, lawyer, Indian chief, Bishop or CEO. And I certainly don't understand the amount of energy and money spent denigrating a segment of the population. After the Civil Rights Movement and the Sexual Revolution, one would think we had learned about making judgments on people based solely on the color of one's skin or based solely on gender. How is this different? As for scripture.... Well, scripture says I should sit quietly with my head covered and be subservient to my husband (The Beloved is not a church-goer, but he really digs this idea and wonders why we didn't have this passage read at our wedding). And, apparently ECUSA has gotten past that part of scripture, since we elected a female Presiding Bishop at our last general convention!
Imagine the good that could be done were we to focus all the energy and money spent on lambasting the Bishop of New Hampshire and the "proper role" of gays and lesbians in the church and put it towards something like the Millennium Development Goals. Or if we were to work on removing the log from our own eye before pointing fingers at our neighbors.
I now have eight keys on the key ring I use for work. EIGHT! We're not talking a huge library, folks--it's a collection of approximately 20,000 items that supports about 200 students. Yet I have the following: a key for the front door of the library; a key for my office that also unlocks the kitchen and a variety of closets; a key for the office behind the circulation desk; a key for the media room; a key for the computer labs; a key for the student success center; a key for the projector in the conference room; and a key for the mail room in the administrative building. I'm supposed to be getting another two keys for the file cabinets that house replacement ink jet cartridges and tablets for the art programs. I jingle like a jailer when I walk. Haven't these people heard of a master key?
Granted, our house has a different key for every lock, so I shouldn't throw stones. But The Beloved and I have discussed having the locks changed so that the doors could all be opened on the same key--my mother did that last year. It was a brilliant move. We may try to do it this summer, depending on how our finances are, or we may do it when sibling moves out. I have visions of putting all of sibling's belongings on the front lawn and having the locks changed. No, I'm not a nice person. This could all work out just fine....
The other day I promised I would write more about the statement from the Presiding Bishop and the response from Bishop Robinson regarding our "season of fasting" in ECUSA. Unfortunately, I don't really have a lot to add. I have nothing erudite to say and nothing important to contribute. You can view a conversation with the Presiding Bishop or read her opening remarks here, and you can access Bishop Robinson's response here.
The entire situation mostly makes me sad. Perhaps I suffer the effects of a very small brain, but I don't understand. I don't understand why a person's sexual preference makes him/her a sinner. I don't understand why it should hold him/her back in a chosen profession--be it doctor, lawyer, Indian chief, Bishop or CEO. And I certainly don't understand the amount of energy and money spent denigrating a segment of the population. After the Civil Rights Movement and the Sexual Revolution, one would think we had learned about making judgments on people based solely on the color of one's skin or based solely on gender. How is this different? As for scripture.... Well, scripture says I should sit quietly with my head covered and be subservient to my husband (The Beloved is not a church-goer, but he really digs this idea and wonders why we didn't have this passage read at our wedding). And, apparently ECUSA has gotten past that part of scripture, since we elected a female Presiding Bishop at our last general convention!
Imagine the good that could be done were we to focus all the energy and money spent on lambasting the Bishop of New Hampshire and the "proper role" of gays and lesbians in the church and put it towards something like the Millennium Development Goals. Or if we were to work on removing the log from our own eye before pointing fingers at our neighbors.
- 9:04 AM
- 0 Comments
Is being handled by The Beloved this evening. He's making a roast, but there seems to be an inordinate amount of smoke involved. I don't want to complain, though, because as long as he's king of the kitchen, I am free to sit in the living room watching the newly remastered, H-D version of West Side Story. Seriously, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and score by Leonard Bernstein--does it get any better? Well, perhaps the stage version without the language edits. But this is certainly not a bad way to spend the evening. Maria and Tony have just met at the dance and I'm just as mesmerized as the first time I saw the play. And I can just about guarantee that I'll be in tears by the end, just like always.
This is actually the high point of the weekend. It was rather lazy. Call it the calm before the storm. One of my siblings is moving in with us tomorrow--a move to which I agreed, but am now dreading. We don't get along so well, and sibling may or may not have a job. The agreement, though, when we said sibling could move in, was that everyone in this house works. So, if sibling doesn't have a job, sibling will be working for us. I keep telling myself, if nothing else, my house will be clean and I'll begin to start some of my bigger projects like painting the office/nursery for any potential offspring. There is a bright side, right? Right?
West Side Story allows for some rather easy knitting. I did work on the Blue Lagoon Blankie this weekend, and I knit a prototype watermelon hat. My girlfriends say it's cute--so long as it's for an infant or a toddler--which it is. The Beloved thinks putting such a creation on a child is cruel and unusual punishment and the fact that I (and my female friends) would do such a thing is only proof that women are inherently evil. God willing, I'll be able to do some mediocre pictures tomorrow. I got a new phone, with a new camera. I still can't upload pictures which makes me sure the problem is on Virgin Mobile's end. I plan to spend the better part of the afternoon on the phone with Myron or one of his counterparts.
I may also take some pictures of the face cloths I'm knitting. Next weekend my grandmother is moving into Assisted Living--something she is not looking forward to at all. Since there is absolutely nothing I can do to make this easier for anyone involved--my parents, my grandmother, the poor staff at the house where she'll be living--I'm knitting. I figured I could make some face cloths and put them in a little basket with some soap or lotion or something. That'll be nice, right? Cute little housewarming gift?
Anyway--we're up to the Tonight quartet, so I've got to pay attention to the TV. Tomorrow I'll let you know about Bishop Robinson's response to the Primate's meeting and our Presiding Bishop's response.
This is actually the high point of the weekend. It was rather lazy. Call it the calm before the storm. One of my siblings is moving in with us tomorrow--a move to which I agreed, but am now dreading. We don't get along so well, and sibling may or may not have a job. The agreement, though, when we said sibling could move in, was that everyone in this house works. So, if sibling doesn't have a job, sibling will be working for us. I keep telling myself, if nothing else, my house will be clean and I'll begin to start some of my bigger projects like painting the office/nursery for any potential offspring. There is a bright side, right? Right?
West Side Story allows for some rather easy knitting. I did work on the Blue Lagoon Blankie this weekend, and I knit a prototype watermelon hat. My girlfriends say it's cute--so long as it's for an infant or a toddler--which it is. The Beloved thinks putting such a creation on a child is cruel and unusual punishment and the fact that I (and my female friends) would do such a thing is only proof that women are inherently evil. God willing, I'll be able to do some mediocre pictures tomorrow. I got a new phone, with a new camera. I still can't upload pictures which makes me sure the problem is on Virgin Mobile's end. I plan to spend the better part of the afternoon on the phone with Myron or one of his counterparts.
I may also take some pictures of the face cloths I'm knitting. Next weekend my grandmother is moving into Assisted Living--something she is not looking forward to at all. Since there is absolutely nothing I can do to make this easier for anyone involved--my parents, my grandmother, the poor staff at the house where she'll be living--I'm knitting. I figured I could make some face cloths and put them in a little basket with some soap or lotion or something. That'll be nice, right? Cute little housewarming gift?
Anyway--we're up to the Tonight quartet, so I've got to pay attention to the TV. Tomorrow I'll let you know about Bishop Robinson's response to the Primate's meeting and our Presiding Bishop's response.
- 8:36 PM
- 0 Comments
It's snowing in Northern New England, and though the weatherman promises it will switch over to my all-time-favorite "wintry mix," it's currently snowing on the seacoast, and it's quite pretty. Since it's no longer bitterly cold, the flakes are huge and sticky and it looks just like a snow day should.
Of course it's March and I'm nearly done with with warm and fuzzy feelings towards winter weather. But that's beside the point. The office where I work on Fridays is closed, so I'm still in my jammies at 8:24 AM. It seems so decadent! Even better, The Beloved works from home on Fridays, which meant I had the opportunity to pamper him a little by making a big breakfast of fried eggs, bacon, grits (The Beloved was born and spent his early years south of the Mason-Dixon line. We forgive him for this.), toast, orange juice and coffee. Unfortunately for me, by the time I finished cooking, I wasn't actually hungry. So, he enjoyed the fruits of my labor and I had a piece of toast and some juice and coffee. Hmmm. Well, there's always lunchtime.
This is the perfect opportunity for me to sit and work on some of my unfinished projects, but somehow, that doesn't seem an appropriate use of my spontaneous holiday. So, I do believe I will begin the watermelon hat today. If it goes as quickly as I'm thinking it will, I may even be able to finish off the airy scarf before dinnertime. After all, it isn't even 9:00 yet, and I'm nowhere near ready for a nap!
Of course it's March and I'm nearly done with with warm and fuzzy feelings towards winter weather. But that's beside the point. The office where I work on Fridays is closed, so I'm still in my jammies at 8:24 AM. It seems so decadent! Even better, The Beloved works from home on Fridays, which meant I had the opportunity to pamper him a little by making a big breakfast of fried eggs, bacon, grits (The Beloved was born and spent his early years south of the Mason-Dixon line. We forgive him for this.), toast, orange juice and coffee. Unfortunately for me, by the time I finished cooking, I wasn't actually hungry. So, he enjoyed the fruits of my labor and I had a piece of toast and some juice and coffee. Hmmm. Well, there's always lunchtime.
This is the perfect opportunity for me to sit and work on some of my unfinished projects, but somehow, that doesn't seem an appropriate use of my spontaneous holiday. So, I do believe I will begin the watermelon hat today. If it goes as quickly as I'm thinking it will, I may even be able to finish off the airy scarf before dinnertime. After all, it isn't even 9:00 yet, and I'm nowhere near ready for a nap!
- 8:21 AM
- 1 Comments
Or something like that. So, yesterday topped off my already interesting week--which is scary because it was only Wednesday.
To recap:
On Monday, I called Virgin Mobile about my phone and went through menu/holding hell whilst trying to discover why my phone refuses to transfer pictures. After following the directions given to me by the oh-so-not-helpful guy in the returns department, my phone still will not do what I want it to. I have since e-mailed the returns department to discover that, though you can send them e-mail, they do not handle returns in that fashion. Oh, and if I didn't buy my phone through them directly (I didn't), I can't return it through them. Great. Which means I now get to transfer my frustration to Best Buy. Naturally, they no longer carry the phone in question. This should be fun.
Monday night I returned home to find a sick cat. The Beloved and I went to the vet where we dropped a pretty penny on the visit, burn cream, and amoxicillin. Each morning and evening, the two of us give Polly her treatment. This involves The Beloved putting her into a sleeper hold while I clean the affected area (yuck), apply burn cream, and then move to the other end of the cat in order to force a dose of liquid amoxicillin down her throat. It's the same stuff kids take for ear infections and the like--pink, bubblegum-scented, sticky goodness--and the cat is as fond of it as most kids are. Perhaps someone should look at creating special cat flavors. I'm sure she'd like it more if it smelled like duck liver or chicken.
Since my experience is that this sort of garbage manifests in threes, I assumed that my third misery-causing experience is the continued absence of a reimbursement check for which I've waited two weeks (turnaround time for these reimbursements has generally been under five days). I'd gotten down to the "dangerously low" level of funds in my checking account where the bank sends me balance notifications every 12 hours or so, possibly in hopes that I will rectify the situation. Unfortunately, as I found out yesterday, absence of funds--while distressing--does not qualify as catastrophic enough to knock one's karmic balance out of decline.
The Beloved and I have our phone service through Vonage. One of the great perks of this is that I get an e-mail every time someone leaves us a voicemail message. Yesterday I find a 3 minute message from "Anonymous." Hmmm--unusual. "Anonymous" generally signifies someone trying to sell us something we don't want. They never leave messages that long. So I listen to the message at work. This turned out to be a gigantic mistake, as the message is from my Library School Adviser.
The gist of the message is: They have lost paperwork I sent in at the start of fall semester. My program of study form does not match my transcript. Because these two pieces of paper don't match, I haven't actually graduated. I may have to pay a continuing registration fee for this semester. Oh, and what was your internship about again, because I can't find any of that information either.
This sends me into a panic on, oh, any of a number of levels--from the fact that I'm all done giving the Library School money, to the horrifying realization that if the places I've applied to work call to confirm my completion of the program in December 2006, I have no idea what the registrar's office will tell them. This is not good. Because I am sane and rational and together, I shut my office door before bursting into tears and e-mailing something absolutely incoherent and rife with swearwords to The Beloved. Because The Beloved is an amazing man who can occasionally reply with just the right thing, he tells me that this is not my fault and we will not have to pay for it, because if the Library School screws me over with either another bill or by creating problems for a potential employer, well, that's why God created lawyers. (The Beloved used to be an attorney, so I have confidence in his assessment of what is and is not a potentially litigious situation.)
The hyperventilating ends long enough for me to e-mail Adviser (complete with concerns), fill out required form (again), get to second job, and fax the document. Adviser admits that this is their fault and not mine, that my records will state a graduation date of December 2006 since I did complete all the requirements, and that I shouldn't be charged any extra fees. Adviser also says that if potential employers have any questions, I should have them contact him. Theoretically, crisis has been averted, but man-oh-man--I just want to be done with Library School!
Needless to say, I finished off the ballband dishcloth last night. It's stunning. Well, for a dishcloth. I didn't even try to kill anyone with my knitting needles. Impressive, eh? Tonight I start the March dishcloth KAL and this weekend I'm going to attempt to make some progress on my unfinished projects. Last weekend, I actually wove in all of the ends on the Blue Lagoon Baby Blanket, which means I have no excuse for not picking it up and working on it while watching TV. Except for the watermelon hat I really want to make for a friend's baby....
To recap:
On Monday, I called Virgin Mobile about my phone and went through menu/holding hell whilst trying to discover why my phone refuses to transfer pictures. After following the directions given to me by the oh-so-not-helpful guy in the returns department, my phone still will not do what I want it to. I have since e-mailed the returns department to discover that, though you can send them e-mail, they do not handle returns in that fashion. Oh, and if I didn't buy my phone through them directly (I didn't), I can't return it through them. Great. Which means I now get to transfer my frustration to Best Buy. Naturally, they no longer carry the phone in question. This should be fun.
Monday night I returned home to find a sick cat. The Beloved and I went to the vet where we dropped a pretty penny on the visit, burn cream, and amoxicillin. Each morning and evening, the two of us give Polly her treatment. This involves The Beloved putting her into a sleeper hold while I clean the affected area (yuck), apply burn cream, and then move to the other end of the cat in order to force a dose of liquid amoxicillin down her throat. It's the same stuff kids take for ear infections and the like--pink, bubblegum-scented, sticky goodness--and the cat is as fond of it as most kids are. Perhaps someone should look at creating special cat flavors. I'm sure she'd like it more if it smelled like duck liver or chicken.
Since my experience is that this sort of garbage manifests in threes, I assumed that my third misery-causing experience is the continued absence of a reimbursement check for which I've waited two weeks (turnaround time for these reimbursements has generally been under five days). I'd gotten down to the "dangerously low" level of funds in my checking account where the bank sends me balance notifications every 12 hours or so, possibly in hopes that I will rectify the situation. Unfortunately, as I found out yesterday, absence of funds--while distressing--does not qualify as catastrophic enough to knock one's karmic balance out of decline.
The Beloved and I have our phone service through Vonage. One of the great perks of this is that I get an e-mail every time someone leaves us a voicemail message. Yesterday I find a 3 minute message from "Anonymous." Hmmm--unusual. "Anonymous" generally signifies someone trying to sell us something we don't want. They never leave messages that long. So I listen to the message at work. This turned out to be a gigantic mistake, as the message is from my Library School Adviser.
The gist of the message is: They have lost paperwork I sent in at the start of fall semester. My program of study form does not match my transcript. Because these two pieces of paper don't match, I haven't actually graduated. I may have to pay a continuing registration fee for this semester. Oh, and what was your internship about again, because I can't find any of that information either.
This sends me into a panic on, oh, any of a number of levels--from the fact that I'm all done giving the Library School money, to the horrifying realization that if the places I've applied to work call to confirm my completion of the program in December 2006, I have no idea what the registrar's office will tell them. This is not good. Because I am sane and rational and together, I shut my office door before bursting into tears and e-mailing something absolutely incoherent and rife with swearwords to The Beloved. Because The Beloved is an amazing man who can occasionally reply with just the right thing, he tells me that this is not my fault and we will not have to pay for it, because if the Library School screws me over with either another bill or by creating problems for a potential employer, well, that's why God created lawyers. (The Beloved used to be an attorney, so I have confidence in his assessment of what is and is not a potentially litigious situation.)
The hyperventilating ends long enough for me to e-mail Adviser (complete with concerns), fill out required form (again), get to second job, and fax the document. Adviser admits that this is their fault and not mine, that my records will state a graduation date of December 2006 since I did complete all the requirements, and that I shouldn't be charged any extra fees. Adviser also says that if potential employers have any questions, I should have them contact him. Theoretically, crisis has been averted, but man-oh-man--I just want to be done with Library School!
Needless to say, I finished off the ballband dishcloth last night. It's stunning. Well, for a dishcloth. I didn't even try to kill anyone with my knitting needles. Impressive, eh? Tonight I start the March dishcloth KAL and this weekend I'm going to attempt to make some progress on my unfinished projects. Last weekend, I actually wove in all of the ends on the Blue Lagoon Baby Blanket, which means I have no excuse for not picking it up and working on it while watching TV. Except for the watermelon hat I really want to make for a friend's baby....
- 12:23 PM
- 0 Comments
