Thursday, November 30, 2006


For The Sake of Higher Eddication

I meant to do this a couple of days ago, but because of all the hilarity and snow and skidding about on the roads and falling on my ass, it totally slipped my mind. Now of course I should save it, as tomorrow is the LAST day of the madness and it would mean a guaranteed completion however I have a finished object to show off tomorrow so, barring any further Front Stairs Ballet I'm pretty much in like Flynn.

So hey, there's this guy who's doing some research thingie and he uses great big words like "Contra blog-triumphal models of memetic bootstrapping ..." so really, you know it's all academic and important. (i secretly think he made that up).

So what he wants people to do is link to that there post, explain his experiment (he's trying to get you to do his research so he can do a talk about it and doesn't have to do any work, which proves that he's really a graduate student) and then go over there and ping Technorati, which sounds sort of like it's something rude but it isn't.

So go ahead. Do it. Iffen you don't, god will kill a kitten. Or at least shove it down the front stairs.


To Whoever Is Responsible For This Weather

You can stop now.

And by the way, you owe me a new ass. Or actually, you could take away the third cheek that I seem to be growing after falling down my own damned front steps and smashing into one of them.

I'm fine. Just bruised and feeling stupid, especially seeing I was thinking "Oh, I'll just take the garbage out and then I'll shovel all that shit off the stairs, seeing some of the people who visit me may well be clumsy and fall down on my front stairs.

And maybe bruise their ass."

Thanks In Advance.

and aren't you relieved that there are no photos?

Wednesday, November 29, 2006


Y'all Rock

I made it to the Downtown Eastside today. Six blankets and 15 hats have found new homes. More will go when I can actually get there again. Tomorrow or Friday, perchance.

And then the snows started again this afternoon. You made a difference -- thanks.

i was going to save all of the hats so i could take a picture of "the big wall o' hats" and then figured that was nothing but hubris, while people are freezing on the streets, so you'll just have to imagine it

Tuesday, November 28, 2006


I'm Busy

Gee, no poop, Poirot.

But I mean I'm busy because I got the scanner working (damn that USB port thingie anyhow ...) and so I'm busy scanning stitch markers and orifice hooks and dyeing wools and generally being productive. There may well be eye candy later today, FSM willin' and the creek don't rise, however in the meantime go catch up on the adventures of The Animal Hat Gang and the rest of the folks over in Cat Town.

I figure I haven't linked to them since March of 2005 so I can get away with it again.


Monday, November 27, 2006


There You Go

A slightly better picture of the hooks, all in a row. I'll still try to scan them later. For now, I'm getting me some sleep.


Snowed In!

We've gotten something bizarre like 6" of snow overnight, and Her Majesty isn't going to school today. The school itself may be open, but we live down at the bottom of the hill ... and it's way up at the top of the slippy, slippy, slippy hill.

I'd likely get out of my driveway, and possibly out of my street although it remains unploughed, however there's no way I'd get up the hill.

Having decided, last night, that she wasn't going in, and also having decided that I'd like to pay my gas bill so that we can have heat, I stayed up all night making stuff. Orifice hooks, to be exact. And I have given them very very sexy names.


orifice hook number one. polymer clay set with green and clear glass beads. braided brass hook. fits the orifice of an Ashford Traditional, so I'm assuming it'll fit most wheels. the clay is slightly greyish, which makes me think i overcooked it, which is weird because the one in the oven at the same time was fine, but there you go.

orifice hook number two (are you sensing a trend here?). burgundy and clear glass beads, stainless steel wire hook.

orifice hook number three. polymer clay handle set with blue glass and silver something or other (but it didn't melt so it's not plastic) beads. stainless steel wire hook.

orifice hook number four. polymer clay handle set with orange and clear beads. stainless steel wire hook. That "trough" near the end is for tying wool or a ribbon around it so you can hang it. can't believe i didn't think of that earlier.

orifice hook number five. clay, stainless steel, bla bla, burgundy and clear glass beads.

orifice hook number six. clay, steel, bla bla, and a lot of different-coloured beads that i thought looked well together

orifice hook number seven. amber, orange and clear beads.

hook eight. blue, silver and burgundy beads

hook nine, orange and clear glass beads

hook ten. blue, red and clear beads

Man I wish the pictures were better because really, they're pretty, and the hooks are nowhere near as wonky as they look. I may try to scan them tomorrow, seeing it's doubtful anyone's going to want to buy 'em from these photos. (If you do, lemme know, they're $16cdn each plus $4 shipping and handling).

And I wound up some wool that I dyed quite a long time ago:

There are two skeins of this available, but you should be aware that it's dyed with Logwood, which is beautiful but not particularly colourfast (and it would have been so nice if they had told me when I bought it). It'll come off a bit on your hands and if you make socks with it you'll have little purple feet. And I wouldn't wash it with your whites if I were you.

And now it's late and I'm frozen. Being creative (and being up all night) will do that to you. I'm heading to the bath and then bed.

Three more days before I can stop this bonkers post-a-day thingie!

Sunday, November 26, 2006


Down to the Wire


I had a fantastic day today. Woke up too early (no, that's not the good part) fed the 900 kids and sent them home and then got a couple of hours to myself while E went on a playdate. Later, I ate popcorn and knat and watched Shrek II with La Principessa and then had dinner with her.

We had been scheduled to go to the 'rents for dinner tonight but we're up to the yingyang in snow around here (and if you're wondering exactly where the yingyang is located, it is apparently somewhere around my ankle bone) and so that got cancelled. I can't think of the last time I had so much time to just hang out and have fun with her. The kid is decidedly cool.

Anyhow, after she had dinner and her bath, I lay down beside her to get her to go to sleep and I have no idea when she drifted off, but I woke up again shortly before midnight. So yeah, I almost missed today's deadline. And this will be posted hastily and without any editing, so although I don't dare post anything German (ever again) rest assured that my English may well be as lacking today. And that I shall kick your collective asses if you point it out.

Speaking of wires, today while E was at her friend's house, I went to the hardware store to get some wire. I had to ask the guy where it was, because all I could find was the covered electrical wire, and although I've got no objection to using that, the gauge was too heavy on all of them. I asked him where the uncovered wire might be. He asked me what I needed it for. I looked him straight in the eye and said "orifice hooks". I wasn't sure if he thought he was going to hear some perverse tale of granny porn or learn something new. He was certainly startled.

I kindly explained.

So if you're going to the Revy near my house and need wire for orifice hooks, ask the bald guy. He knows what you're talking about and does not fear the orifice.

But I'll be remembering the look on his face for quite some time to come. And really, What's the point in having a hobby if you can't have some sort of fun with it?

Saturday, November 25, 2006


Things to be Thankful For

For Which to be Thankful, even.

I know it's not Thanksgiving up here in the Great White North. In fact it's not even Thanksgiving in the Southern Provinces any more. I imagine a great wasteland (waistland?) of turkey leftovers, pie plates with nothing left but a few crumbs of crust, the occasional forgotten yam, and a great loosening of the belts as everyone dozes through to Monday, waking occasionally to slurp down another turkey sandwich.

Yes, I know you don't slurp sandwiches, but the mass consumption thingie always starts out appealing to me and then half-way through I get all grossed out, so slurping it is. I think I'm managing to have, like, three eating disorders all at once, so please indulge me here. Or don't. That's fine too. (I'm very hard to please, as you can tell).

So even if it isn't the Official State-and-Church-Sanctioned-Time-of-the-Giving-of-Thanks, there are a number of things for which I am very thankful, and I just thought I'd make a list of 'em here.

1. I do not have neighbours like My Gimpy Friend does. In fact my closest neighbours consist of a quiet family of three, for whom I have baked (anyone who knows my cooking habits knows exactly how highly I think of them, just from those five words). I've known the wife for about 10 years, and the hubby is the sort of boy who, if you mention that you'd like to borrow a screwdriver, comes leaping out of the house with 23 for you to choose from and then offers to do the repair himself.

Hm. I think it's time to bake again. He fixed my wonky car battery the other day ...

The rest of the neighbours are: a house and a double-wide full of a young-ish, not-too-horribly-noisy assortment of mostly boys and a couple of dogs, a log cabin with a quiet woman and a dog, and another house with a family of quiet artists. I don't know anyone else on my street (they're all far enough removed that they're hardly even neighbours) but you can be assured they're mostly quiet. And would come running if I had trouble, rather than being the ones who created the trouble themselves.

2. Although we seem to still be under a boil water advisory, bottled water is cheap (64 cents for a litre and a half), I have a car to haul said water, and beer, being made with water that is both filtered and boiled, is safe.

3. The hats, the hats, the glorious hats. I've got well over 100 here now and after I feed the 900 children I seem to have here again (how the hell does that keep happening?) I shall, as requested, photograph all of them. It takes about 20 minutes to upload one picture (yes, seriously) so they may not ALL be up tonight, but for those who have enquired, please rest assured they will all be there before the end of the weekend.

4. My family. This shouldn't be in fourth position but I'm just sort of writing off the top of my head here and there isn't a lot of editing going on.

Although I complain about Mr. Assmuppet, he has never missed a day of work in the years we've been together (once I can get him to work, that is, but nevermind), he hands me his paycheck unopened (I don't know if he even knows how much he makes) and he's a really good daddy, if not so much with the housework and stuff. He never finished 9th grade (went into the Marines instead) and is now, on top of working four days a week, taking two more courses towards the third year of a university degree.

Y'all know how perfect my daughter is. I need mention little more about it.

5. The Wool. 'nuff said.

6. All of you. Thank you. You know what for.

Friday, November 24, 2006


Completely Disoriented

I stayed late at work this morning because I wanted to talk to my supervisor, and so didn't get my "before school" nap this morning. Somehow, we ended up being three minutes late anyhow, so my daughter had to go and get a late note, while last year's insanely disapproving twatmonkey of a teacher happened to be in the office, observing yet another failure on my behalf and sniffing a bit in her "I'm More Xian Than You" manner. It was very pleasant.

So I came home, filled a hot water bottle, fell on my noggin and landed directly in the middle of the deepest, darkest, most dreamless sleep I've had in months. Which was fine but when the alarm clock went five hours later I was all "WTF? It's Saturday, why is this damned thing ringing and where is my daughter and why isn't Ben here?" Which was sort of a pity as Ben's at school writing two papers that are due pretty much immediately and my daughter was at her school waiting for me to go pick her up at 3pm.

Fortunately I managed to remember to go get her, and then got to the post office for more hats (update tomorrow) but I'm completely discombobulated and have been for the rest of the afternoon.

Somehow in the next half hour I have to have a shower (oh, stop thinking about me nekkid, I shower in the dark with my clothes on, sillies), pack up the kid with food and toys, get her up to gramma's, get back home, wrap up a gift for the woman I'm meeting tonight for dinner (she flew all the way here from Ottawa just to bring me some hats. She had some story about a convention she was attending but I think we all know that's just a cover story because she's too embarrassed to admit to her slavish devotion), drop off my housekey to my babysitter, pack up everything I need for dinner knitting (you didn't think I was going with empty hands?) and for work tonight and then get out of the house.

So, um, that's my excuse for not having a great big post with all sorts of pictures and links today.

The Koala Twat yarn was sold by the time I got home from work this morning, btw -- thank you! I shall be knitting and blogging (and photographing all of the hats I've received so far as there seems to be a general feeling that that's required) and beating 900 children as usual this weekend. More dyeing too, methinks. Stay tuned; I'm sure I'll manage to do something embarrassing.


Thursday, November 23, 2006


Dyepot Delights

As promised, although a day late. This is the wool I dyed as a prize for Wendy's fundraising drive for Heifer International

this is what the first skein looks like, all pretty-like languishing beside my niddy-noddy

this is a crappy picture, but it shows the colour better. it's a bit dark here. my camera sucks.

Two skeins, about 220 yards each (probably a lot over), superwash merino in sock weight. This will not be coming to a store near you any time soon -- I made one dyelot and threw away the recipe (well, actually i was trying for something else and this is what i got, so clearly my recipes don't mean anything anyhow) so if you want it, you know what to do.

And now, what you've all been waiting for:

koala twat. politely referred to on the sale page as "bright blue surprise". it's a darker blue than this; it really is cobalt. i just can't seem to get a decent picture. two skeins (230 yards each) available

There are some skeins of purple, too, and some yellow, methinks, but I yet again must dash to work. Will it ever end?

(hopefully not, i like paying rent)

Wednesday, November 22, 2006


Clearly I am Brilliant

That, or I give good guess.

You paid attention during 91% of high school!

85-100% You must be an autodidact, because American high schools don't get scores that high! Good show, old chap!

Do you deserve your high school diploma?
Create a Quiz

With thanks to Marcia.

I dyed some wool for Wendy's Heifer thingie last night, being finally too fed up with our water situation to wait any longer, and it's quite nice in my Not So Humble Opinion.

In a tizzy today but hopefully there will be a picture tomorrow.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006


As Promised: Toad Testicle

Y'all didn't think I was going to publish a teaser like that and not come through, did you? If you did, clearly you know me too well. However, for once I'm not lying.

I had a dream.

Well no, I didn't, but I had this idea that I could be all elegant and stuff and make some sort of nifty felted beaded button dealie, in fact make several dozen of them, sell them, become filthy rich and retire in peace to a little cottage in the countryside with my llama. Possibly also my husband but he's allergic to animals and if I have to make a choice I think you know how that's going to go, no?

Anyhow, I knit and I knat and I knotted and beaded and whatevered, then sewed it all together (yes, me with a sewing needle in my hand!) and felted and felted and felted and felted and felted.

And, unfortunately, came up with something that resembles nothing more than a toad testicle. That is, if the toad is quite large. And possibly diseased.

I actually love this brave and pathetic little button quite madly. The picture is a little light, but the yarn is billed as "peridot" and I'd say it's pretty close. It has a metal ring embedded in the back just in case anyone urgently needs to attach a 4"-wide, 2"-thick, seven pound button to any of their delicate knitwear.

Actually it's not that bad. It's about an inch and a half wide, and maybe an inch and a quarter high. It's my first attempt at felting (at least my first attempt at felting on purpose and we will just not mention that little -- very little -- blue cardigan ever again shall we? it was 25 years ago, give me a break) and I certainly won't be deterred by the fact that it didn't turn out quite as I had imagined.

I'm going to try felting it down a little more, and then maybe work on making a few that might fit human-sized clothes. In the meantime maybe this could be a closure for a felted bag I've been working on for about 3 years now ...

tomorrow: delights from the dyepot, and maybe a hat update

Monday, November 20, 2006


The Time of the Tumour

No, don't all start running about waving your hands in the air as if you've just seen some mayonnaise. I don't have another one.

I just think enough time has passed that I can talk about it a bit. You see, I've told this to a few people but I don't think I spewed the details all over the interwebs, which is sort of startling, but nevermind. At least I don't think I did and I'm too lazy to check my own archives. If I've said this before then just skip over it or whatever.

The tumour I had was supposedly a sort of rare one, called a Phyllodes Tumour. When the surgeon first said to me that he thought that might be what I had, as it was growing so startlingly fast (I mean tripling in size in a few weeks) I at first thought he said "Pilates Tumour" and I'm all like dude, you've seen my ass, do I LOOK like I do Pilates? And who knew you could get sick from that?

Anyhow, I didn't know the whole thingie until after he'd taken it out. He told me that it was bigger than his fist. And when you think about it, really, that's a whole extra boob.

When he told me that it was 100% benign, his grin lit up the whole room. It might have been almost as big as mine. See, he doesn't get to say the "B" word as often as he'd like. In fact he's the same man who told my dad that his asscancer was malignant. And then he took it out (the cancer, I think Dad still has an ass but I really don't want to know) and it was encapsulated and hadn't spread and he's been cancer FREE, not just in remission, for six years now. But anyhow, like I said, the dude doesn't get to give good news as often as one might like to do.

So this was all good. And he said that because it was benign, I have a 10-20% chance of it coming back. And if I get another one, that'll be benign too.

But here's the scary part, and the bit I haven't talked about a lot. If it had been malignant (which it wasn't!) then there would have been an 80-90% chance of it coming back. And those tumours allegedly don't respond to chemo or radiation. It's surgery, surgery, surgery, metastasis, death. Not fast, but the prognosis is about 12 years, max. Not enough when your kid is only five years old, as she was at the time.

80-90%. That's a lot. Like if someone said "if you drive this car, you have an 80-90% chance of the brakes failing" would you drive it? If someone said "if you walk down this street, there is an 80-90% chance you will be mugged and beaten to death ... I think you'd plan a different route.

So it was a bit freaky, and yeah, that would have sucked, because I also have enough wool for about 40 years and none of you bitches are getting it. I'm staying until it's all gone.

BUT, and this is something I only discovered recently, when he took out my tumour, he also took out my dentalphobia. I don't think he even knows he did it, but it's gone as if it never existed.

I've always been totally paralyzed at the thought of going to the dentist. Even for a cleaning I often made two or three appointments, got freaked out, cancelled, acted like such a twat that someone got mean to me and then I cried. Very happy situation for both me and the dentist.

But it would seem that's all gone. I had a root canal last week and it was all "oh just fine, do it dude, it's only teeth." And the dentist said that this or that horrible thing could happen and I said "fine, we'll deal with it if it does". And I had a three-hour root canal (followed by three days of ibuprofen-munching pain) and it was nothing. I went in again last Friday, had my teeth cleaned for the first time in several years (and there was much gouging and poking and stuff) and I was completely relaxed. And then the doc came and did the cover for the "access filling" or whatever he called it and I was completely chilly.

And seemingly I'm having a "difficult extraction" on December 8 of one of my wisdom teeth with "deep decay and bulbous roots". He said it wouldn't be fun. I said then I'd call in sick to work. He said there could be sinus collapse and all sorts of horrible stuff. I said then if there is I have medical coverage haul me in and get my head rebuilt, I just. Don't. Care. And if there isn't then we don't have to stress about it so let's not even bother in advance.

Dude. Me? Saying that?

I never knew that the dentalphobia thing lived in my left breast. But it's completely gone.

And I'm eternally grateful.

tomomrrow: toad testicles

Sunday, November 19, 2006


For MaryB

My first five Dulaan items, plus a pair of shoes daughter wore maybe four or five times.

Four hats and a scarf. I have another hat made, too, and these will be mailed out this week.

So that leaves, what, 44 more to go? Don't suppose they need dishcloths.


i think i can ... i think i can ...

Saturday, November 18, 2006


Wheeling and Squealing - the TMK Story

I'm trying to come up with good titles, just in case they ever make this into a Movie of the Week or something.

For those wondering about The Wheel, it is, as Ryan mentioned in the comments, a Schacht (single treadle), and truly a thing of beauty. I am having trouble imagining exactly what acts of perversion I would commit to have one for my very own. I suppose I could just buy one but that's not nearly as much fun. And considerably more expensive.

So back to the story.

Yes, dear readers, even though TMK is a mighty woman, able to bend steel girders with her mind (or at the very least with a steel-girder-bending-machine) she has One Great Fear. I had encountered this before during The Great Hamburger and Screaming Fest of aught six, however it had inexplicably slipped my mind.

After negotiating the perils of Drunken Assmuppets in Seattle Traffic and having been suitably washed by Frankie, I settled in for an enjoyable evening of pizza and salad. (and silliness. it may shock you to know that there was silliness involved) As I was about to go into the kitchen for a piece of pizza I stopped dead in my tracks. "Remember The House Rules" was roared out in commanding tones. For a minute I almost lost control of my bodily functions.

You see, I believe that TMK was perhaps attacked by a flock of roving mayonnaise as a child (I'm assuming that the thing with the birds was from being attacked by A Flock of Seagulls) and has, to this day, retained an overwhelming fear and loathing of that particular condiment. To the point that she has a need to instruct houseguests as to the care and use of mayonnaise before each and every meal in which mayonnaise may be present, or even mentioned.

Rule 1: Mayonnaise may be used but a utensil, once having touched mayonnaise, must touch Nothing Else. It must immdiately be washed or, even better, ceremoniously set alight.

Rule 2: Nothing that resembles mayonnaise must go near any food that is not the food on the mayonnaise-user's plate. There is no excuse for dripping or slopping. Transgressions will be dealt with harshly and immediately. and you likely deserve it, you dirty mayonnaise-user

Rule 3: Anything that looks like mayonnaise probably is, and needs to be kept away from TMK and anything she may touch for fear of swooning. This includes, but is not limited to, mayonnaise, any white salad dressing, cold cream, Crest toothpaste, hand cream and most hair conditioners. And possibly mustache wax.

You see, we had ordered Caesar salad along with the pizza and the very sight of the dressing had driven her into a tizzy. Seriously. Paris Hilton confronted with her very first outhouse could not have reacted with greater hysteria.

We managed to calm her down (somehow this was accomplished by my drinking the only beer in her fridge -- a Fat Tire, highly recommended) and retired to the living room with our pizza. I believe those who chose to eat the salad were required to do so in the garage but really, it's a small price to pay. If only for the sake of Finland.

Don't say I didn't warn you.


Comments Thingie Fixed

Sorry, folks, seemingly I did something stupid and you had to have a "registered account" to comment for the last day or two. Which is just wrong.

It's all fixed now. Carry on.

I'm going to go beat the 900 children I have in my house (again) for a while and then feed them and make them go to bed at like 7pm, whereinafter I shall drink and post the second chapter of the TMK story.

Friday, November 17, 2006


The TMK Story - Chapter One

First off, lick me thanks so much to y'all who felt moved to correct my German. I'm sure nobody appreciates your input more than I do.

And secondly, if someone has any idea how that chunk of paint got taken off the hood of my car, I'd appreciate your passing on the information.

And now I've gotten that off my chest, I shall continue with the Stories from Seattle.

Now, as many of you know, TMK is some kinda butch, and IMNSHO there's nothing nicer than a butchgirl. (No need to get your pants in an uproar, Ryan, I have a horrible girlcrush on all of the ladies who were there that evening, yourself included. My love is universal, and mostly harmless.)

So back to TMK. She's the kind of chick who, if her truck dared to break down on the I5, would make a rope, likely spinning it on the spot out of her own hair, fling it around the axle and then pull the truck home. With the rope held between her teeth.

She bench presses stuff and probably kick-boxes other stuff and can spin for seven and a half hours in one day without getting an embarrassing groin-pull which, in itself, is something to be admired. And if you saw her new wheel you'd know why. I'm having total wheel envy since my trip.

However, she has an Achilles' Heel, and I, dear readers, have discovered just what it takes to make her run about screaming like a girl and flapping her arms.

Work beckons, yet again ... tune in tomorrow for:

The Condiment of The Debbil

Thursday, November 16, 2006


I Hate Blogger

So I had 2/3 of a post written and then Blogger wouldn't let me save it so I went to sleep and now I'm going to have to go to work. And this post-a-day thingie is harder than it looks.

Go over to the hat blog to be distracted from my lameness. We're up to 69 hats now!

Wednesday, November 15, 2006


Die Krankenhaus

Everyone but me is sick, Chéz Lapin. I decided to get mine over with in two days last week, however the Muppet has been sick since Thursday and today Ben came down with the galloping cruds.

Just payment, indeed, for taking it upon himself to move wiring in my office, thereby making the crashing-to-the-ground of either my only light source or my printer imminent. But I digress. (And it's a good excuse to spend a couple of hours in here tomorrow, rearranging things).

Anyhow, this is my "please excuse the Rabbitch for not having a good post tonight but her husband was sick" note. I did have a story all about TMK almost ready to go but that'll have to wait for tomorrow.

worried, TMK? *g*

Und jetzt, wie immer, zu arbeit.

i'm feeling a little teutonic today, please forgive

Tuesday, November 14, 2006


Saved By The Meme

My blog was down for about 10 hours today, which of course caused me no end of conniptions seeing, as we all know, my very being is defined by the words on this screen.

Anyhow, I've had less than 3 hours of sleep (MissyMoo came home sick from school about four hours before I was supposed to get up and go get her), I was too busy whining about the blog and the lack of sleep to actually DO anything today, and so I have nothing creative/insane/distasteful to show you today.

Therefore ... a meme, from John. Thanks, dude. You saved my butt.



1. Yourself: earnest
2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend (spouse): unexpected
3. Your hair: butch
4. Your mother: needy
5. Your Father: judgemental
6. Your Favorite Item: fibre
7. Your dream last night: bizarre
8. Your Favorite drink: coffee
9. Your Dream Car: impractical
10. The room you are in: chaotic
11. Your Ex: distant
12. Your fear: failure
13. What you want to be in 10 years? older
14. Who you hung out with last night? Matt
15. What You're Not? organized
16. Muffins: cornmeal
17. One of Your Wish List Items: llama
18. Time: insufficient
19. The Last Thing You Did: emailed
20. What You Are Wearing: pajamas
21. Your Favorite Weather: invigorating
22. Your Favorite Book: Neverwhere
23. The Last Thing You Ate: cheese
24. Your Life: interesting
25. Your Mood: pensive
26. Your best friend: dead
27. What are you thinking about right now? working
28. Your car: smelly
29. What are you doing at the moment? laundry
30. Your summer: inadequate
31. Your relationship status: volatile
32. What is on your TV? dust
33. What is the weather like? damp
34. When is the last time you laughed? yesterday

who else will do this?

Monday, November 13, 2006


The Kindness of Stranglers, Another Lie, and WTF?

As always, I'm blown away by the kindness of people (and am I the only one who finds it hilarious that "strangers" and "stranglers" are only one letter apart? Oh. Yeah, I suspected as much).

I don't have an update on the hat total 'cause the PO box thingie was closed both Saturday and today. No, I'm referring to this:

A pile of gorgeous blankets. First the squares were knitted (by strangers) and then joined (by strangers; possibly by stranglers, I don't ask about these things too closely). They will be going to a local mental health association later this week to keep some folks who are living in unheated hotel rooms a little warmer. There are 8 in this pile.

And the lie:

I told Ryan I wasn't taking any Avalanche yarn home. I took something like 37 skeins (including some stuff that was donated last year and needs to be dyed). Clearly I am a weak, weak woman.

And the WTF:

I have made a foray into the world of making orifice hooks. This is my first attempt. Don't worry, I know how bad it is, but it works perfectly and is comfortable in my hand. I'm going to keep it for myself and hopefully come up with something better in the very near future.

My husband and I have decided this resembles nothing so much as a Troll Tampon, so go ahead, be as mean as you like. I can take it.

Sunday, November 12, 2006



Singing is such a bizarre thing.

I used to work in the music department of a college, and when people called up to ask about our programs, I would ask them what instrument they played.

And sometimes they would say, I don't play an instrument, I sing.

And I would say "then your instrument is your voice, you're a vocalist"

Many vocalists, or singers if you prefer, are neurotic. I'm a singer myself, and I understand why (the sopranos are worst for some reason, fortunately I'm a mezzo, or a high alto). If you play the piano, and the piano is out of tune, it is the fault of the instrument. If you play the piano and you hit the wrong note, it's a matter of manual dexterity.

If you're a singer, your instrument is your body. If someone doesn't like it, they don't like YOU. If you hit the wrong note, it means your body malfunctioned.

There's something wrong with your ear, your nose, your throat, your voice.

For me, singing is as personal as masturbation, it's an intimate act with your own body; but it's like masturbation in public and people get to tell you if you've done it wrong.

Which probably explains why I seldom sing in public even though I'm pretty good at it. It's likely why, when I was a kid and my parents discovered I could sing and started trying to make me do so in public I shut up. For a really really long time.

So if you know a singer, and if he or she won't sing ... look away. Let them holler. And don't mention it if they don't have their pants on, ok?

Saturday, November 11, 2006



Damn, and this won't even count as tomorrow's post!

To all those concerned: you're very sweet, but the reason I don't have antibiotics is that I don't take 'em unless my life's in danger without them. I believe this is one of the reasons that they work so well on the few occasions I have succumbed to the need.

The worst of the infection has been cleaned out of the tooth (bleach solution and all!) and the gum is draining. He said he didn't think I needed antibiotics, and I told him if he gave 'em to me I'd wait a week before taking them anyhow, as a healthy body (and mine's relatively healthy despite the utterly dissolute lifestyle I claim to have) can fight off most stuff without them.

As for the dissolute lifestyle: I live on mostly fruit (usually organic), veggies (again, often organic), nuts and dairy. Carbs too -- I love toast and have a piece almost every day (yes, one. Shut up). I eat a little lean meat a couple of times a week. I even exercise pretty much daily (but don't tell anyone), I'm a healthy weight (I could lose maybe 10 lbs) and I drink an awful lot less than I like you to think.

And now my image is completely destroyed. I do have Cheetos and black coffee for "breakfast" (about 10pm) at work a couple of times a week. I love me my Cheetos. I also sometimes eat chocolate 'cause at 4am when my ass is dragging bigtime and I have another two hours left to go on my shift, chocolate is all that's going to get me through. And I have about four or five cans of co-cola a week, too.


Utterly, utterly ruined.

Anyhow, I think most of the pain is from the anaesthetic injection sites. There was a lot of it, which is why I didn't feel a thing during the entire nasty process. I always have a day or two of pain after having dental work involving freezing.

My dentist's office is closed on Monday (it's a statutory holiday here), but he's always closed on Monday anyhow. They work long hours -- open at 8am and they're open some Saturdays, too -- so I don't begrudge them a day off. If it's still ugly on Tuesday I'll call and they'll work me in, even if it's on their lunch hours. The dentist, and all of the staff there, truly rock. They'll see me right. I can even call him at home if it gets worse but relax, I was mostly just whining. And drinking custard.

And now, seeing I really ~do~ have beer in the fridge I shall go and attempt to redeem my reputation.


In Which I Eat My Words, But Little Else

Remember that root canal thingie I had? The one that didn't hurt at all and ha ha ha nanny-nanny boo-boo and so on?

Yeah. That one.

Well, it would seem that the main reason we had to do the root canal, the galloping infucktion, is causing all sorts of fun for me. That, plus the 900 injection sites means that I'm pretty much living on custard and beer today (no, I haven't had any of either but I have quite a lot of at least one of them in my fridge -- guess which?).

I will not take photos or describe in detail the joys of a gum infucktion, all I can say is don't look up the word "fistula" while you're eating dinner. I'm seeing them again on Friday so if it isn't any better by then I'll get something done. Like maybe have them hit me on the head really hard and bury me in the woods.

In the meantime, seeing I'm overrun with children yet again, I'm taking the opportunity to lock them all in one room to "play nicely" (I only open the door if there's actual screaming or if there's blood running out into the hallway) and then to dye some wool for a prize to be used by Wendy in her drive for Heifer International.

And to drink beer.

Or custard.

Friday, November 10, 2006



That's Sliver Moon Farm, not silver. I'm blaming it on the wool fumes. Or the fact that I was sick and had been spending far more time in the bathroom than I'm willing to share (floo, almost gone, taking tonight off work and I'll be fine tomorrow).

Or maybe that I was anticipating the three-hour root canal I had done this morning.

Whatever. I'm a dolt and I apologize to Kay. The fibre is gorgeous, as you can see.

As for the root canal, anyone who has horror stories about them clearly is going to the wrong dentist. Or has the wrong teeth or something. I had not a minute of pain, and even now when the freezing has worn off, I'm a little tender, that's it.

Y'all live anywhere near here and need a good dentist, drop me a line.

And now to either clean the house, or maybe just crawl in the bathtub and sleep for a couple of hours.

Thursday, November 09, 2006


I'm Not Worthy!

Feast your fibre-crazed eyes on these puppies:

The two grey ones are merino/tencel, the incredible green/gold one (the picture doesn't begin to do it justice) is 100% merino and that shiny fawn-coloured stuff? That's baby camel mixed with tussah silk.

To. Die. For.

This incredible bounty came my way from Kay at Silver Moon Farm. Their website doesn't seem to be functioning today, but you can reach Kay at

I may just eat this stuff instead of spinning it.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006


Ain't Got Much

Today is a busy day and the tale will have to be concluded later. Nothing much else happens except for food and silliness and spinning anyhow. It was a great time.

BUT ... in the meantime I'd like to announce that Miss Mouse has generously offered to donate a set of her fantastic stitch markers as a prize in the Huge Hat Haul. She also has some gorgeous handspun for sale. I'm broke, or y'all wouldn't have a chance. Run over and grab it before I win the lottery tonight, mmkay?

Tuesday, November 07, 2006


OK, So I Can't Count

As we all know, I cannot count. Apparently I cannot count past three, which really explains a lot. Anyhow, I have either 36 or 37 hats and I've updated the hats page. I've put the address in the sidebar, too, so that nobody yells at me any more. *g*

And now, seeing I have so much time (my babysitter arrives in two hours, the living room looks like god threw up in there, I don't believe I've had a shower today, the bathroom is unspeakable, the dishes are all dirty and I think the laundry situation is such that I may be going to work in a bedsheet-toga) I shall continue with the endless Dulaan-Seattle-Knit-In-Saga. Because you mean that much to me.

And because I'm a bit of a pig, it would seem.

and finally what may, if there is any justice in the world, be the last instalment of this tale

I wandered aimlessly about the streets of Seattle for a while and finally made it to TMK's house, about five minutes after a shaken and rather-upset Ryan had reached the door. Everyone rejoiced as if I were the second coming of Christ, and quite frankly, the Seattle ladies having set that standard of greeting I would appreciate it if all of you would follow suit, should we meet in future. I could get used to that.

As I entered the house I noticed that TMK had a handful of money, and so immediately assumed that I was the evening's entertainment and proceeded to strip in the doorway. After I had bared but one shoulder they informed me that it was pizza money and that I wasn't required to make my debut as Chunky Bouclé, which I have always claimed that I would use as my stage name.

Later that evening we decided that I should have a motto. I think that's where the "Doing it for Finland" came along. Nobody's too clear on this point (and we were all sober, too!). It just somehow seemed appropriate. I think the thought was that if someone can strip for Jesus then I could do it for Finland but I've emailed everyone involved and nobody can remember exactly why we picked on Finland. I suppose I'll have to write a note of apology now.

After I collapsed in the recliner, Frankie -- the cutest dog in the world -- decided she needed to get on my knee. I'm pretty sure she could tell I was still shaking from my near-death experience and there was liberal distribution of dogspit all over my hands and face. It helped.

And I guess this story's going to have to go one more chapter, seeing I have 25 minutes to get ready and get my ass out the door to work. And I still haven't had that shower thingie or made my lunch.

Next time I take on a post-a-day thang I'll make sure I do it when I have enough time to edit stuff, too. I'm pretty sure this is all jumbled up.

and how many days are there in november? couldn't we have done this post-a-day dealie in february?

Monday, November 06, 2006



If you are dressed as a cute kitty, you get lots of candy.

And if your haircut makes you look like a cross between kd lang and Lyle Lovett (WTF?), you get lots of hats:

top left, three hats from three different people for the Vancouver hat project, top right, three hats i made, two from avalanche yarn, for the dulaan project, bottom front, very pink hat on the needles for a small person who is outraged that everyone gets hats except for her

No substance today, I slept almost all day and now must rush to work.

Sunday, November 05, 2006


Ooh, It's That Day Again!

Guy Fawkes Day. I think I'm going to celebrate by blowing up my house. It's gotta be easier than cleaning it.

Saturday, November 04, 2006


Wouldn't It Be Nice?

It would be so nice if we could store up sleep and then after a day like yesterday where I got 10 hours or so of sleep, if a day like today where I got maybe three hours of broken sleep followed, then we could sort of balance it out and go "whoa, almost 7 hours a day, that's good!"

It would be especially helpful on days when the family decided to do an emotional rollercoaster thing on me. I have toxic parents; we might as well just deal with that. My father decided to give me a lecture (completely unfounded) about something which ended up with me in tears and hating them a lot, and then after I had consigned them both to Hades my mother called to apologize, as half of the mess had been of her making.

I just remind myself that they're old. And I'm tough.

Speaking of tough, I have a houseful of children right now, which is why you're getting this sort of post instead of the trip update I promised. Clearly I lied. Again.

If I can medicate them enough get them to go to bed early enough, there shall perhaps be a "real" post. And about 8 more sets of stitch markers, too.

And Koala Twat wool. Which I think I might just call Bright Blue Surprise or something, seeing not only the folks who read this blog look at the wool page.

next up: the stripping, the spinning, and nobody remembers a thing about finland

Friday, November 03, 2006


Wherein We Lie About the Updates

Smallperson let me sleep all day. It was amazing. It has, however, put me about 8 hours behind on my plans for world domination cleaning the house.

The horrible fiscal news has been reduced in impact by about 2/3 (whew!) so there will be a little more merriment here Chéz Lapin, however the knitting from stash thingie will still be a given for the next year or so.

You're going to have to wait until tomorrow to find out what we were doing for Finland, however in the meantime, you may find this information about wine gums interesting. And delicious.

Hrm. Maybe I'll buy a couple of packages and send them out as hat prizes ...

And now, off to work. And to make more stitch markers. I got two more sets made last night and I had three or four sets hanging about the house, so there should be a substantial update this weekend. Along with Koala Twat wool and whatever horrible name I come up with for the purple wool.

(And can anyone believe that I've stretched the tale of the Seattle trip out for almost a week now and we haven't even arrived at TMK's house, which in reality happened about four hours into the visit ...)

next up: i become an exotic dancer. the dogspit. and finland. and wasn't there to be spinning also?

Thursday, November 02, 2006


Clearing Up a Few Things. And Some More Lying.

Firstly, the answer to a question from months ago: VooDoo, if you're still reading, yes, I would have been interested in your swift, but I suspect that the postage would make it prohibitively expensive. We have had some fiscal unpleasantness Chéz Lapin this week (no, I seriously don't want to talk about it) so there may well be no purchasing of anything for the rest of the year. Or next year. Possibly including food (i'm exaggerating here, at least about the food). If you can find someone else to take it, that would likely be best. I shall continue to use the back of my office chair, which works remarkably well.

(thank fsm for a huge stash -- at least i can knit and spin from that for a long long time without running out)

To the people who asked about my yarn source, I think most of the stuff I had pictured sitting on my stove was Henry's Attic Superwash. Diva Knitting (look on my sidebar) carries it, and her prices and customer service are both excellent.

Regarding the sexual deviance: Elaine, Leslie, Ryan and TMK-you are still unrepentant perverts, so it's all good. Well, apart from the going to hell thing. If you get there before I do, would you please save me a seat by the dance floor? Ginger-You're walking a fine line there. If you also wear a lot of flannel I think you should just accept the inevitable and come to the dark side. Ms. Knitingale-it is well-known that there are no lesbians in Redmond. You're safe. As is your husband. Gaile-you know me too well. Shut up.

Also with the Gaile questions, we did not have to go to someone else's house to pee. MaryB has an admirable bathroom in full working order. Frankie, however, who is a small dog who had been in the house all alone and in the dark for days and days (according to her) needed to get outside for a bit, and she was over at TMK's, as she wasn't invited. Cats, you know. And she doesn't knit.

For anyone wondering about hats, I have 21 of 'em now, I think. Or maybe 22. I'll have to do an update tomorrow after I make it to the PO box again. I also have more prizes.

And for anyone waiting for wool or stitch marker updates, despite the comprehensive proof of the stress/eczema connection (my hands are trashed, bigtime), I have skeined up some of the blue, which I desperately want to call Koala Twat, and some more purple. Making some more stitch markers tonight and hoping to update the sidebar tomorrow, if I can remember how to work my stupid scanner.

And now ... back to the story.

We last saw our heroine (shut up, it's my blog, i can be a heroine if i want) trustingly starting up her faithful piece of shit van and following Ryan. Into the middle of Seattle, right after a Huskies game.

I managed to follow her for a few blocks, and then they started with the merging. People were merging right, left and centre. And I'm Canadian. I had to let them in. It's a well-known fact that Canadians spontaneously combust if they don't let people merge in traffic. (and besides, i know all of you americans have guns and shoot people in traffic. a lot.)

Suddenly I noticed that although my lane was going left ... Ryan's lane was going right. I didn't panic in the least, however the same cannot be said for Miss R.

One of the many things I should have explained to her is that although I have frequently said I could get lost in my own bathroom (and I do, I'm not joking about the total confusion. I've even gotten lost going to work and I've worked there for five years.) I can also find my way to and from anywhere. I even got lost in Japan. Twice. In the wrong city. And I just wandered around in circles until I got back to where I was supposed to be. It's completely impossible for me to remain lost. My first husband used to refer to these little jaunts as "shortcuts". One such shortcut turned a 3 hour journey into just over 8 hours one day ...

I just sort of said "ho hum, I have an address and a phone number. I have lots of knitting and that bag of winegums remains unopened. I should be just fine to get there as long as I don't cross over to the wrong side of the highway, and in the worst-case scenario I can always get a hotel and just knit all night. Or hell, knit and eat wine gums by the side of the road until it's daylight and I can see what I'm doing."

Did I mention I have lousy night vision? Um, well yes. Nevermind.

So, as I'm tooling along in this insane Seattle traffic, I suddenly realize that yet again the entire world turned right when I curved left for a second time, and I was somewhere under a bridge. Or a highway overpass or something. Anyhow, I thought that I'd take the next right and start heading back in the correct direction. Unfortunately right about the same time, the knuckle-dragging mouth-breather in the big white truck (you knew I'd get to it eventually, didn't you?) right ahead of me realized that he, too, was under a bridge in the middle of East Buttfuck. Unlike those of us who had not been drinking at the Huskies game (i have no way to know if he was drunk or sober, but i don't think they make stupid quite that bad so i'm just assuming here) he decided not to take the next right. Or the next left, even. Instead he pulled off to the right into the driveway of some sort of business and then quickly lunged back onto the road in preparation for doing a U-turn and going back from whence he came.

Without bothering to check if those moving objects behind him -- you know, the ones with the lights -- might be cars.

Unfortunately the laws of physics did not decide to change for his convenience, and two solid objects still cannot occupy the same space. Being somewhat better-acquainted with this concept, I immediately slammed on my brakes. As I slowly slid towards his vehicle, I had two thoughts. One, that I wasn't going quickly enough to ram the engine block back into my legs, and two, that I was heading straight for his driver's door. And that perhaps it was just his time.

Clearly I owe some sort of outrageous favour/blessing/something to the gents who fixed my brakes back in May, as I managed to stop about 4" from his door. Literally. It can't have been much more than that.

He just looked down, saw that he hadn't gotten smooshed, SMILED at me, the motherfucker, and then finished pulling his U-turn and went on his merry, drunken, car-smashing way.

Although, as a Canadian, I frown upon public outbursts, I must admit that I tootled him (scroll down). Vigorously.

next chapter: how dogspit cures everything, and doing it for Finland. and oh yes, i'll talk about the spinning

Wednesday, November 01, 2006


The Lying Continues, and I Still Don't Get To the Bit With the White Truck

Clearly I'm not at all well, as I seem in a fit of drunkenness to have signed up for NaBloPoMo. I do believe that my ability to make a fairly-uneventful 18-hour visit into five or six link-laden posts is going to stand me in good stead for the rest of this month.

Be prepared for rambling. (i sort of should have said that just over two years ago, shouldn't i? in fact i may have but i'm too lazy to go read my own archives)

So, where were we? Arriving in MaryB's living room, I do believe.

I walked in and was greeted by many faces, both familiar and new. And cats. Cats which I managed to pat. I haven't touched a cat (apart from the strange bag of bones that lives with my parents) since The Great Ripping-Away of My Beloved Cats From My Aching Arms (tm) which happened late April/early May of this year, so it was nice to find that I didn't burst into hysterical tears. I'm going to be avoiding them again for a while, though; it was sort of tough. No reflection on the cats, who were very cool.

MaryB, being very organized and the consummate hostess, immediately recognized my urgent need for caffeine. I think the fact that I burst into the room stating loudly "I will commit outrages for coffee!" gave her her first clue.

She said I didn't have to do anything at all for the coffee. I suspect she has read my blog and was scared of what outrages I might come up with. Frankly, I was a little disappointed, as I haven't committed a good outrage in days.

TMK was there with her amazing tofu pie. She fetched me some and sat and watched, intently, to see if I made "tofu face". I did. It's delicious. There was also some gorgeous bananananana bread made by "the good twin" from Yarn Girls, They Do Get Wooly. (i didn't even realize who these ladies were until after the event and i felt like such a tit.)

I'm a total dork in crowds, and was frantically hoping nobody would notice that I was trying to blend into the woodwork. While speaking loudly, being strange and wearing underpants on my head. Apparently I'm a little unclear on the concept of "unobtrusive".

I have it in my head that all women who are involved in fiber and who live in Seattle are lesbians, and so when I saw these two ladies walking around I thought, "Oh, they stand very close together and finish each other's sentences and stuff and both say 'we' a lot so they must have been together for a long time." Then I noticed that they in fact look pretty much identical and figured out that they had probably been together from the very start, although not quite in the way that I had been thinking.

(this in no way makes them Unlesbians but i think they're married. to men. so you know my theory here is getting some really big holes in it and i'm going to have to rework it. all of the women in seattle who knit, crochet, spin, weave, dye, etc. and who are wondering if they are lesbians, please stand by -- i'll get back to you by the end of the week)

Anyhow, so we were hanging out in the kitchen and the "evil twin" said to me "oh, we love your blog" and my face turned red. Yes, it would appear that I still have the capacity to blush. I think I also apologized to them for my blog. I'm amazingly coherent at times.

Supergirl was there as was Janine and there were a whole bunch of other people who might or might not have blogs but I'm really not good at details, so my apologies to anyone I missed.

There was knitting and eating and laughing and fondling of garments (the knitted stuff on the table, you perverts!) and I was truly amazed. I'm almost embarrassed to send my humble little hats but if you've seen the pictures on Ryan's blog you'll know why I'm sending them anyhow. Even a humble little hat is better than no hat at all.

After several hours, Ryan, TMK, Leslie, Elaine and I decided to go back to TMK's house to let Frankie out to frolic and possibly to pee but we're too ladylike to mention it and order pizza. Ryan gave me the address and phone number and we set off confidently in traffic, Ryan in the lead ...

And now I must get some sleep as I have children coming over later and of course I have to save some material for tomorrow.

next chapter tomorrow, in which i really promise to tell you about the guy in the white truck, how i'm very good at getting unlost, and the complete posession of tmk by the spinning goddesses

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