Thursday, March 30, 2006
Houses of the Holy
Or, in fact, the holy shit.
We saw the inside of the house I want today, and it's big, big, big! Were one a more-discerning and less-demerolled member of society than am I of late, one would have been able to deduce this from the fact that the outside of the house is big, but well, there ya have it. You make do with what you've got and now and again you get a nice surprise.
Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, big kitchen, big living room, seemingly some sort of attic but I don't know if it's much good for storage, a nasty dank spiderwebby garage (that my daughter thinks she's going to sleep in) and ... a great big well-lit linoleum-floored workroom that would be ideal for a rabbit with a huge stash of wool and a great need to wash, dry, dye, spin and weave it.
There would be room for the loom AND two wheels (yes, I'm getting a second shortly) and my knitting machine (sacrilege!) and bla bla bla bla bla. And a beer fridge, of course.
I still don't think we'll get it but it can't hurt to keep an unrealistic dream going a few more days, can it?
On the boob front, as it were, I've been in very little pain today and have had no need to medicate. (No need does not necessarily mean no urge but I digress.) My boobs are now both pretty much the same shape and size (which is really nothing to write home about but it's certainly a little more consistent than I've been these past few months). The colour, however, is ... um ... I don't know if there's a word for it. I think purple/red/plum sort of covers it. With some blue. And scabs. And steri-strips. It's pretty cute, I'll tellya. Thinking of taking it on the road.
Ya think a line of greeting cards would fly?
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Difference Utility Chicken
Well, that's certainly less disturbing than most of the google searches that have gotten people here of late, but it still concerns me.
It also makes me want a chicken dinner, but that's beside the point.
So, here we are, the day after badgersurgery, trying to get along with our lives and being very annoyed about the fact that the "total lack of pain" of yesterday has gone up to the "well, that doesn't feel good at all" of today and that we are finding it most useful to keep ourselves medicated. We also seem to want to refer to ourselves in the third person, which we find decidedly twee and annoying as fuck so maybe we'll just stop that shit right now, shall we?
I would like to post, proudly, a picture of the dishcloth I knit (mostly) in the recovery room and finished while stoned as a loon at my mother's house.
A little wonky, but usable. I wouldn't throw it out.
I'm sitting up, contemplating how long it takes demerol to get out of your system, wondering why my breast looks like an eggplant and also wondering why I haven't just given up and taken another pill and gone back to bed. Stupid rabbit.
I'm also an inch or so into the next dishcloth (because we all know the world needs more dishcloths knit while enjoying the benefits of a narcotically-enhnaced life) and I've finished the cuff of the second sock. Looks like I'm going to be allowed to stay in the Cirque du Socks even though I don't have enough circs in a small enough size to actually knit my socks on those. I'm pretending that my dpns used to be circs and the cords fell off. I was even going to learn to use the magic loop thingie but dude, I don't think that learning something new right now would be all that wise. Or, um, possible.
I'm going to have a lot of this left over so I think I'm going to make a baby hat and socks combo out of it. I don't think there will be enough for another pair of adult socks but I'll take it over to the post office and get it weighed first, just on the off-chance. Patti has more yarn up today, btw, in case you're coveting. I'm thinking that if my union ratifies our new contract, thereby bringing me a whack of cash (signing bonus), the first thing I'm going to do is bring all of my past-due bills up to date, and the SECOND thing I'm going to do is buy me like five of those skanks of yarn. (Because I have it on good authority that until you have as much sock yarn as some people, you don't have a problem.)
Ooh, and my Folk Socks book that I got off of eBay finally arrived! It was shipped later than I expected and certainly isn't in "new" condition. I mean it doesn't look like it's ever been used, but there's something sticky on the cover and there are some bashed edges and one corner is bent. I don't know if I can bring myself to leave "bad" feeback for her but I'm certainly not leaving a good one. I'm thrilled to have the book, though, and look forward to leaping ahead in my sock-making expertise. (would be hard to leap backwards now, wouldn't it?)
To answer all of the badger questions, I don't know how big it was, or what it weighed, but the surgeon said it was "huge" and then piled one fist on top of the other, you know, like you do when you're doing "one-potato, two-potato". I didn't get to take it home in a jar, because it was so big and scary and nobody really knows what it is, so it had to go to the lab. We don't have the pathology back from the lab yet so we don't know exactly what it was (could even have been a Phyllodes Tumor, which is scarier than the fibroadenoma that he thought it was, but still not an automatic death sentence or anything). I don't even know how many stitches I have. I'll find out more details next week when I go back to see the surgeon.
They didn't do the reduction. I would have had to wait months for that, and we didn't have months, the way this thing was growing. It just had to get out of there.
I'm not going to be posting pictures, this is just ugly and you don't need to see my boob that badly. Imagine an eggplant with a nipple, some stitches and a bunch of steri-strips. No dressing 'cause I'm allergic to all of that nasty tape they use and he didn't want to rip my nipple right off. I told you he was a gentleman.
Back to knitting on the sock and eating everything in sight ...
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Bloodied but Unbadgered
The badger is gone.
I had the day from hell yesterday, starting with the daughter waking up barfing at 2:45am and continuing with emergency barflaundry, several more barfages, and then ME getting the flu also. Almost cancelled the surgery but I said to hell with it.
I was feeling fine by the evening so I made the right decision.
Badger was taken out this morning and I was up and knitting within an hour of the surgery. I'm pretty sore, badly bruised, and about to get seriously stoned (yay for Demerol) but I'm fine.
Couldn't see the house yesterday but it's rescheduled for Thursday at 3. I'll try not to be too high when we go to see it ...
Thanks for all the good wishes. I'll be up on my feet, spittin' and cussin' in no time.
You may now uncross for the surgery. Keep everything crossed for the house. I'll keep you posted.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
JenLa's Meme, And A Sock
Oh, what a splendid title. Next I'll be writing something called "Sunday's Post" or some such lamery. (To all of you who regularly title your posts things like "Sunday's Post" I'm sorry, I likely just hurt your feelings. But really, dude. If you're stuck, just email me. It doesn't have to be like this! Why, just a couple of days ago I helped The Mouselet come up with the epic title "A Cute Sock". )
And in the interest of delivering what I've promised I give you, without further ado, JenLa's Meme
1. A blog which you think people have not discovered.
Napkin Please. This is the blog of an interesting artist from New York. He doesn't post a lot and he uses -- horror of horrors -- a knitting machine, but he's doing some things I very much enjoy looking at and thinking about. And besides, I have a knitting machine too and if I get this house (everyone still dancing?) I will have room to set up that AND my loom and lose all semblance of a social life because I will be in the back room chortling and running fibre through my hands pretty much 24 hours a day, with brief interludes for beer runs and such. (that's a run to the beer store, not a visit to the porcelain palace to alleviate gastric discomfort caused by drinking too much beer, you weirdos.)
2. A blog whose author lives close to you physically. Just get as close as you can, it's all relative.
Well, it's odd, but I haven't actually MET very many Vancouver knitbloggers. It's very very stupid, because I know there are tons, but I'm so busy being all seduced by those hot American chicks that I've pretty much forsaken my own.
That, however, is soon to be remedied. I will be meeting Mandy on Monday the 3rd. Yes, as in a week today. Whee!
I think that the closest blogger who I read on a regular basis and who I've met would be Marlene. She's delightful, even though we didn't have nearly enough time to chat, and her knitting and spinning kick ass, bigtime.
3. An unusual or weird animal picture.
Hands down, it's this. Dudes, I'm speechless.
4. An entry that made you laugh and got you strange looks from family or co-workers.
There are so many, however my most recent fave is Franklin's introduction of Dolores.
5. An idea you wish you'd thought of.
Oh, there are tons. Like penicillin, coffee and the internal combustion engine. Those would have been good. Or even dental floss.
6. Something you'd like to knit.
Eris. I used some of my ill-gotten gains from stitch marker sales to buy the pattern for that and for Rogue.
and for anyone who's asking about the stitch markers, the two I have up on the link in the sidebar are all that are ready to go right now. I've had a bad weekend, didn't get any more made. keep looking.
7. A picture of something you consider beautiful.
A bin full of unwashed wool, just waiting for me to have my way with it.
8. A blog whose author you'd someday like to meet in person.
Oh man, how could I pick just one? Ann, naturally, and Jen and La of course, Rebecca, Juno, Franklin ... oh hell, pretty much everyone in my sidebar there.
9. A blog of someone you have already met in person.
Marlene, Gaile and Stephanie, and I feel hono(u)red to have met each of them.
And now, as promised, a sock.
And, as proof that I don't have second cock syndrome (oh there I go again), the cuff of the second sock:
I get to see the inside of the new house tomorrow, and hopefully will have an answer by the end of the day. Surgery is Tuesday. Expect very sparse bloggery to be committed over the next week, but I'll be sure to let you know how it goes with both.
Thank you to everyone who's been so supportive while I've been having this little meltdown. It can't have been pretty.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Ownership of Stink
Firstly, thank you to all who are dancing, naked (and perhaps also drunkenly) on my behalf. It's starting to look like we might actually get that house. Oh FSM, here's hoping. It's three times the size of this place, $90/month more once you factor in what I pay for storage, and it has a garden and is QUIET.
(Many thanks also to those who have purchased stitch markers. I only have two sets left -- more will be up later this weekend. Blues, greens, reds, amethyst and some mixed funkystuff I picked up recently.)
Of course I'll have to move with my tit in a sling, but all is not lost; this has led to a brilliant idea by Miss Mouse. If I'm going to do such a thing (and hell, I moved 90% of our stuff by myself with broken ribs once, so why not?) I should have a Pirate Name. I believe we've settled on Rabbitch McTitSling, Scourge of the High Seas, although I can't decide between that and Drinkie McBoobSling.
So tell me ... what's your secret pirate name?
For all of those who find cute kid stories tedious, please click away now, as I am about to explain the title of this post.
Me: So, do you think I should have a shower and then we can go down to the store?
Her: Why do you want me to make a decision? It's your stink.
Now I think that Good Parenting Guidelines would have had me reprimanding her at this point for having a smart mouth, but dog help me, I was laughing too hard.
I'm heading to bed for a few hours now, but remember: All Your Stink Are Belong to Us.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Screaming Cheese-Flavoured Monkey Nads
Oh man, I'm so messed up I could cry.
Got a call today from the property manager for the house we want. We're first in line.
Sounds good, yes?
a) It's for April 1 and b) we have to let them do a credit check.
I've told them that if we can have it for the 15th (seeing I'm having surgery on the 28th), we can consider it, but dude, our credit rating is so vile it's unbelievable. We pay everything, eventually, but late, late, late. Nobody with half a brain would rent to us.
I'm going to go through the routine but there's almost no hope. If, however, everyone could do a little dance and send good thoughts in this direction (and also tell me where the hell I can find a couple of grand in my non-existent budget -- know anyone who needs oh, about 100 sets of stitch markers?) I'd really appreciate it.
If, conversely, the universe could just stop fucking with me, that would be good too. I don't think I can take an awful lot more of this right now.
Thanks in advance.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Help! Help! I've Been Calmed and I Can't Get Up!
It never rains but it pours. And it's been pouring here of late which is my only excuse for the extreme stupidity that took over my Rabbitchly brain last night.
Y'all kow about "traffic calming", right? No? Well, it's where the City puts these little pretty cement roundabouts all adorned with flowers and trees and shit (note: there may not be any actual shit but well, iffen there are flowers there likely is) in the middle of streets so that the children and geriatrics that we seem to have wandering the streets at will don't get run over by us middle-aged folks driving about at speeds up to and including 50km an hour (35 miles for those of you who have not yet succumbed to the decimality). I mean ... the horror! Who could tolerate that sort of carnage? Not the City of North Vancouver, that's fer damned sure and they'll tell you about it and make you pay for it, too!
So, um, I was driving to the post office last night, to send off all of my packages of stitch markers to those of you who have been kind enough to purchase them (as well as sending some roving to Franklin, who has promised me a sheep in return ... pray to FSM it's not Dolores). Anyhow, while driving along in the rain and the dark and all, I came to this "traffic calmed" area and well ... I guess I wasn't paying enough attention and I got me calmed right upside the head. I drove over the edge of the little cement roundabout thingie and who knew that those things could take out your tire? Not me.
So I thumpthudgrinded over to the side of the road, listening to the happy "rim on the road" tune all the way and proceeded to change my tire. All by myself, in the dark and rain.
I stood there in the dark and wet, industriously tightening the lug nuts for a while, thinking it was so fortunate that I was all butch and could change a tire. I then industriously UNtightened them, having finally worked out exactly what the problem was and the difference between clockwise and counter-clockwise and all. You don't want to rush this sort of thing, you know.
Oh, and then while I was jumping on the wrench thingie to loosen the lug nuts I had tightened to their capacity, the car slid forward OFF the jack and went "boomf" on the road. That sort of added the maple syrup to my pancakes as it were (and did you know that there are like 21 million Kg of surplus maple syrup in Quebec? There's no need to be stockpiling right about now, babies, but you might want to think of adding it to your daily diet just to keep the economy going, besides which it's delicious.)
Anyhow, I repositioned the jack, which was sort of bent by this point, unboomfed the car, got the wheel off, put it in the back, put the "emergency doughnut" on ... TIGHTENED the lug nuts (see? I can learn!) and went on my merry way back to the house to rinse the 43 gallons of axle grease and road dirt offen my paws.
Which is why I didn't make it to the post office last night, although I did make it to work on time, so it wasn't a total loss.
And, I'm calm, to boot. Damn, those things really work!
So for all of you who are waiting for stitch markers and row counters, it'll be a day later. I'm going to go again, tonight, perhaps a little less calmly, and mail them off.
And now a pause for a moment of wallowing in filthy lucre. The stitch markers have sold amazingly well, and I've got another couple up there now. (no, not up THERE, you pervert!) I'll be posting more on and off as time goes on and if you're interested, please check back from time to time.
If you're in a spending kind of mood, my friend Gaile is selling off a bunch of her stash. There's Debbie Bliss Merino, Schachenmeyr Nomotto Softwool, Jaeger Matchmaker Merino DK and a bunch of other fun stuff. Dude, if I hadn't gotten myself all calmed (and thereby all broke buying another tire) I'd be on it like sauce on rice. Or, um, something.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
I Can Read The Writing ...
... on the foot.
So, I'm sitting there at work last night, taking a break from the exciting world of data-un-fuckery or whatever it is I'm doing (correcting many many thousands of errors made by others. I'm assuming whoever corrects my errors will be whining about it on another blog shortly.) working along on The Beauteous And Quite Pink Sock and I realize that I'm close to the point where the toe decreases need to start.
Assuming that S has approximately the same size foot as do I (I think it's maybe slightly longer) I measure where the decreases should start and then casually take off my shoe and my sock and make a mark on my toe.
And as I sit there at work, with one naked and written-upon foot, happily knitting along and slipping the sock on my foot every couple of rounds I realize ... a) this possibly isn't normal behaviour and b) there are a couple of hundred people who will understand completely.
I finished the first sock up to the decreases and then realized that I didn't have my book with me and didn't know what to do next, so the second sock has been cast on and I have about 1" of the cuff done. No Second Sock Syndrome (and I keep typing that as "Second Cock Syndrome" which is another problem entirely) here.
Pictures, hopefully, of one completed sock and one cuff tomorrow.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Some Very Confused People
To those who found this blog through such searches as "set tits on fire" and "my ass has gone to sleep": really, you need some help.
And to that other person, and you know who you are, no I did most assuredly not do that to my brother's best friend. Not even once. Sicko.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
There's Half A Sock That Mother Left Last Tuesday ...
And only maybe two people will recognize that musical reference. Relax, you're all just too young (as am I, but nevermind).
So, this is all I have to offer today.
Half a sock. Well, more like three-quarters of one.
I still say my friend's going to be damned lucky if I give these up to her without a fight.
Saturday, March 18, 2006
In Which I Am A Twat
This is your bobbin that fits on the lazy Kate. It is full of thick-and-thin slightly overspun merino/tencel.
This is your bobbin that fits on the lazy kate. It is not full of thick-and-thin slightly overspun merino/tencel.
This is your bobbin that does NOT fit on the lazy late but that fits onto the wheel, and onto which yarn must be plied from the bobbins that fit the lazy kate. It, alas, is half full of thin-and-thinner slightly overspun merino/tencel.
(and any answers as to how I can ply these two bastards without trying to transfer the stuff from the odd bobbin over to the Ashford bobbin without destroying it?)
Thursday, March 16, 2006
I've been a busy bunnie and there are a few more sets of markers up.
I've got a lot of house stuff to do, plus I seem to have utterly shattered a tooth, and I don't know if there will be more by Saturday or not, so I thought I'd post these now.
(Dental horror stories to follow)
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Oh Lord, Won't You Buy Me ...
... a one-legged friend?
My friends all have two legs;
The knitting never ends.
Worked hard on this all night,
Got down to the bend.
Oh Lord, won't you buy me,
A one-legged friend?
So here's the sock I'm making with the wool I got from the lovely Patti.
I must say I like it even better than I like The Small And No Longer So Angry Sock:
however this is for a friend's birthday and will not be mine. I just keep thinking that maybe if I get her daughter to cut off one of her feet in her sleep, that there will be enough wool in this skank to make THREE socks and then I could have two of them.
Because, you know, I'm practical like that.
Off to work. More stitch markers on Saturday. I think I have um, amethyst and pink and topaz this week.
Kiri update later this week also.
Isn't this suspense exciting?
Monday, March 13, 2006
The Goblin of Fire
My daughter has announced that she wants us to buy a movie for her. "Harry Potter and the Goblin of Fire".
She's been really into spookystuff of late. Witches, ghosts, vampires, and of course goblins.
I told her, gently, that the movie was actually called "The Goblet of Fire". She asked repeatedly for assurance that despite the title, which she seems to find quite lame, that there would be goblins, and that they would be on fire.
I haven't seen the movie yet, so was unable to give her the assurance she so urgently desired, however I really can't think of a better title for just about ANYthing on the face of the earth. Therefore, the Breast Badger has now been renamed The Goblin of Fire.
Which leads me to the News of the Goblin, formerly known as The Badger.
I saw the surgeon today and he seems to think I'm quite mad (gee, wonder why?) I sat in his office and put my coat and purse and sock on the chair beside me. He invited me into the examining room and said "Oh, just leave all of your stuff there, your bag will be fine." I said, "I'm not worried about my purse, but I'm making a sock!" There was smirking. And also understanding. I think his wife may well knit.
He then politely asked me to show him my tits. Seeing he's an Irish Gentleman (and they don't get much more gentlemanly than the Irish. Or much dirtier. They seem to hit both ends of the spectrum quite spectacularly) I did so with alacrity. I said "Oh, it's a terrible thing, it's just about to need its own postal code."
He agreed that in fact it was terrible and might well be a blablablrf tumor (I may have the technical term wrong) but that the blablablrf tumors were benign and I shouldn't worry.
Dude, I've coexisted peacefully with this thing for 31 years, I'm not stressed. Breast cancer does NOT take 31 years to kill you. It doesn't even take 31 months. 31 weeks or perhaps even days, but not months or years. That puppy is malevolent, but not malignant.
Anyhow, he said I don't need a reduction, which news I greeted with a fair amount of disappointment, as I long to join the Itty Bitty Titty Committee. He's set a surgery date of March 28, two weeks tomorrow. He's just going to take out the lump and feels that because it's all foreign matter (damn those furriners anyhow! I hope it doesn't think I'm going to learn to speak Italian or something) the breast will "resume its normal shape" without a reduction. Dude, its normal shape is that of an ancient, pendulous, well-chewed boob (I breastfed and you never quite recover from that). I greeted that information with somewhat less than delight.
It'll be day surgery and I'll need a week or a little more off work, that's it.
The good news is that the date works out perfectly, as I'm going to be a witless ... um, witness, at a Very Important Event on April 3. I may still be a little sore, but I'll be completely mobile and will be able to join in the festivities with full enthusiasm.
I think they should be scared.
However everyone who's been scared about my boob should relax now. It'll all be fine really soon. Thank you for worrying.
Another thank you goes out to all who have so kindly spoken of my first venture into the making of stitch markers. The sales are going well, and I'm pretty stoked. I mean, I grew up "knowing" that I had the artistic talent of a mango. A rotting mango, at that. This makes me feel pretty good.
Seeing I'm now officially an artiste, I suppose I should have a name for this line. I hereby dub it the "Dude, I Have An Assload of Blue Beads Plus Some Green Ones" line. Stay tuned for further developments. I get paid again on Friday and I do believe the "Dude, I Have an Assload of Red and Burgundy Beads" line may well be launched early next week.
I know, try to control yourselves. I can hardly stand the anticip...PATION, either.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
My Beady Little Eyes
I've figured out Front Page, and without having to RTFM, which is good, 'cause I just don't do that sort of thing.
My stitch and row markers are in the process of being put online. I would have waited to post the link until there's actually something worth looking at there but Blogger is being evil so I thought I'd take the chance to get the link up here and in my sidebar before it all blows up again.
I'll be putting stuff up as it's made and taking it down as it sells, so check periodically. Or not.
update -- everything I've got done so far is posted. I'm going to go play by the river with my kid, now. more tomorrow.
There should be some handspun there at some point in the near future too, if everyone in the house will just shut up and let me get some sleep.
There will either be handspun or carnage. You can count on one of them happening before the end of the week, all rightie.
this post was brought to you by three successive days of less than three hours of broken sleep, followed by eight-hour graveyard shifts
Thursday, March 09, 2006
You Know It's Getting Out Of Hand When ...
... you are standing in the door of your husband's bedroom (we don't share a room) holding a small cat under your arm screaming "Don't make me use this!" and everyone else in the room is just giggling madly.
I'm going to have to do a little more research into effective warfare.
In the meantime, I'm going to go to bed, for like maybe 7 or 8 hours. Finally.
I made 2 more sets of row markers last night and it would seem there is a great amount of interest in these in the crocheting community, seeing they can't use stitch markers. I may get rich yet.
After some sleep.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Another productive night:
Much fun was had by all. Apologies for the fuzzy pictures.
And now I'm going to actually SLEEP ... and then go see The Gorgon for a parent/teacher conference, during which I shall learn the many ways in which I am failing my child.
Not that I'm intimidated by her or anything.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Hubby scheduled some extra shifts this week (with my agreement). While this is fantastic and will help haul us out of The Endless Abyss of Debt, I didn't take into consideration that the fact that there is a small child here, and there needs to be one semi-alert parent available at all times. If HE's at work ... then I have to be the alert one, si?
Sounds reasonable, apart from the fact that I'm so stressed out that I couldn't sleep this morning (when she was at school) so now I'm trying to be the alert parent while also trying to be the person who is sleeping for her night shift.
Not working out quite as well as I had hoped.
No, I can't do math, either. Why do you ask?
All whining aside, I've been pretty productive over the last couple of days. I cast on a pair of fantastic socks using Patti's handpainted wool. They're a gift, but I don't want to give them away. Then again, knowing how quickly I knit, this may not be an issue as the intended recipient will have passed away long before I get them done.
In wrapping-up-the-Olympics news, Renee is the winner of my stitch markers. Despite my well-documented postcrastination, these are actually packaged and ready to go.
I'm really getting into making these puppies and made a three-marker set:
plus a pair of row markers:
... at work last night. I think I'm in a green phase. You? (They're all the same colour. More green, less aqua. My famed lack of talent for photographing small shinythings is coming to the fore again. My camera's zoom feature has also died.)
And now, I think I'm going to go to work in my pajamas ...
I'll be putting these babies up for sale on Saturday along with whatever else I get made this week. ($10 for a pair of row markers, $15 for a three-marker set, $20 for a four-marker set, etc.) Keep your eyes peeled, if you're interested.
Monday, March 06, 2006
Well, I had a clever post half-written all about the love affair between Romneo and Wooliette, but then Blogger started being a bitch and didn't let me update and really, I've just lost heart.
The first bobbin is done. Thick and thin (mostly thick) singles and the second bobbin of thin singles is well underway. I'm going to spin for another half hour and then fall on my head. Plying will commence tomorrow.
I love this stuff, dudes. Just love it.
Stop the Presses!
Just a quick warning to anyone who may have any merino/tencel in their stash, waiting to be spun. Do not spin with it. You are allergic to it. No, really. It's terrible stuff.
Just stuff it into a box, a bag, an envelope -- anything at all, but do it quickly for the sake of FSM! -- and ship it to me. Forthwith. All of it.
I am only making this offer because I am a saint. No other reason whatsoever.
and for anyone who actually knows the truth, that it's a total DREAM to spin with, go get some here. Utterly delicious fibre, beautiful colours, amazing customer service and good prices, too.
i'm lost. send help. and your paycheques.
By George, I Think He's Got It!
Behold, The Brother's latest run at making a dishcloth.
Ain't it purty? I may well have a little competition for the title of Dishcloth Queen in the near future. Pretty damned ambitious for a first project, if you ask me (and look at the tension! I could weep tears of joy. But that would just be weird and get the cotton all soggy.)
The pattern can be found here, for anyone who's interested. I'd like to join him, but tonight I have a date with a little tencel ...
... and my utter bitch of a wheel. I'm going to keep her (sort of have to after all this time) but I've broken it to my husband that I'm getting a second one. I'm thinking an Ashford Traditional. I don't know if it'll be my long-term wheel of choice but they're plentiful and very inexpensive when purchased used.
Oh, come on. You didn't really think I was going to stop at one, did you?
(truth ... I have a hankering in my heart for a Great Wheel at some point *g*)
Sunday, March 05, 2006
It's a Bird!
It's a plane!
It's a wool!
Well, ok, I'm getting pretty lame here but I have to have posted like 600-700 times in the last two years, so I had to run out of titles eventually. Didn't I?
Behold, my first real "skein" of handspun. It's only about 25 yards (how the HELL do you people get these 300 freakin' yard skeins? What kind of monster wheels do you have?). It's thick, it's thin, it's goofy as all fuck, but I love it. Gonna give it a nice bath to set the twist and spin up a couple more of these so that there's some kind of length worth mentioning, and then send it off to Patti as her "Happy Divorce, Baby" yarn. That is, if she likes goofy red thick-and-thin spaghetti made out of Merino.
If not, then I think I'll just wrap it around my head and wear it, un-knit, as a hat. MAN I like this stuff!
And could I blow my own horn any harder? I think not.
ps to anyone who is avoiding getting a mammogram and who got freaked out by my description. don't. do not avoid it any longer. the mammo itself isn't painful. it's uncomfortable, but you're pretty much standing there going "oh, if they squeeze any harder it's going to hurt" and then they take the picture and stop squeezing. i think it's less comfortable for those on the itty-bitty-titty committee, but really, dude, breast cancer is worse. trust me on this one, i had a friend die of it in her early 40s and it's a dreadful waste. the part that hurt was the core biopsy, and even that is worth it if it means you get to live long enough to be an embarrassment to your children. go. now. make the appointment. i'll go with you and buy you a drink afterwards if you're all freaked out, but do it. if you're too far away for me to go with you, or you'd rather I didn't stare at your boobs, then I'll make up a new cussword just for you and put it on a set of stitch markers. honest.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Did He Fall?
Or was he pushed?
I have one small, wet, very offended cat here who insists that a crime was committed.
There are three other cats who claim it was a terrible, but unavoidable act of clumsiness.
All I know is that Tigger is soaked, my bath is full of cat hair, and everyone is running about yelling "la la la, I can't hear you" with their paws in their ears and their most innocent looks on their faces.
I suspect a conspiracy.
Friday, March 03, 2006
Yesterday was such a fun and exciting day. I can't tell you how much joy it brought to my heart to break my sleep up (and miss several hours of it) in order to go over town and get a bunch of nice ladies to smash my bosom flat between some plastic plates.
No, really. Fun.
The part where they covered me in freezing cold jelly (some places warm that, people!) and then ran a camerathingie over me was even more festive.
The conclusion: There is nothing wrong with the right ... um ... "girl". There is nothing wrong with my lymph nodes. There are no lumps, bumps, splots or blots hiding over, under or beside my badger.
The badger itself, however, is huge. It has more than quadrupled in size since my biopsy two years ago. At that point it was 3.5cm and it is now over 15. Centimetres. Not millimetres. That's six inches for those folks still slavishly devoted to Imperial measurements.
Just a little large for convenient transportation purposes, especially when lodged somewhere that isn't really equipped with room for that sort of thingie.
They offered me another biopsy but I declined. Although it was, again, a great thrill to have a bunch of strangers poke me with little needles and then ram a really BIG needle into me (thereby causing me to swell in all sorts of interesting ways and have to wear an icepack in my bra for the rest of the day), no. Just no. There's only so much joy a girl can take, and it wouldn't tell us anything that we don't already know; to wit: that puppy has to come out.
I see the surgeon on the 13th and we should have a better idea of what's happening at that time. Although I'm in no health-type danger, the fact that it's increasing so quickly should bump me fairly close to the top of the surgery list; I would think I'll be done before the end of May and possibly even in April FSM willing.
My apologies to those of you who have been coveting my stash. Looks like I'm going to live long enough to spin and/or knit it all after all. However there is good news for those who are coveting my stitch markers. I'm going to have time to make more, and should be putting some up for sale by the end of next week, if anyone's interested.
Or, you know, even if they're not. And such.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
She's Created a Monster
Steph clearly created some sort of monster, with her casual "oh, you know what would be fun?"
Yeah, 4100 lunatics, all casting on at the same time, all striving for their personal best, and none realizing quite how wacked they were.
She's now handing out prizes for being this wacked. Therefore in honour, I have created some stitch markers, which she's going to send off to some lucky lunatic.
Little silver kids blocks spelling out k-n-i-t, surrounded by four green crystals each (is this colour peridot? And are these the Swarovsky crystals I meant to buy or some cheap-assed imitation? I think they're the good ones, but who knows?) They look a lot nicer in person than they do in the fuzzy photograph, honest.
Apparently I'm also going to cast on my first lace sock tonight. Is there no end to this woman's evil influence?
In other, breaking news, my daughter has discovered the cure for hiccups:
"I know how to get rid of hiccups. You can fill your mouth up with water all at once and stand on your head. Or, if you're a boy, you can dress up as a woman, or if you're a girl you can dress up like a boy."
(I'll expect photographs if any of you try these methods.)