Saturday, June 30, 2007
Quick note, as I'm sort of trying to get some sleep (but my kid woke up early, bleah!)
If anyone is interested in the wool I posted yesterday, it's in my store. I was going to email you Debidee, but I couldn't find an address.
And now to try to lie on my head for a while and try to ignore the TV.
oh god that was whining again, wasn't it?
Friday, June 29, 2007
OK, all I seem to be able to do these days is whine, so I'm going to shut up until I have something interesting or fibery to say.
I may be back tomorrow, and lots of wool has been dyed so I could show you that I spoze.
So that's it. I'm going to shut up until I have something to say that doesn't make me either a) seem pathetic or b) make me want to slap myself.
And now I'm going to nap before my last night at work for another nine days! Yes, I'm on vacation next week. Gonna whack the weeds (no, not a euphemism, the yard is disgusting) and clean out the guest room and put some donated carpet pieces in my studio.
The excitement never ends ...
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Above It All
It would seem that everyone's having problems these days.
Everyone but me, that is.
Jodi is having trouble with her waterworks (if you'll excuse me for mentioning it), Stephanie's half-baked, and Big Alice has been rediscovering the delights of vomiting but I, dear friends, am above it all.
I've decided that the best possible approach to robust mental health, is to deny everything. Either that or pretend you like it that way.
Therefore, the dryer that my husband hasn't fixed despite his repeated promises to do so? Not a problem. I prefer my clothing damp anyhow. The crown that just fell off one of my teeth? Ah, I've always wanted to be called
I'm having a little more trouble accepting the fact that I'm better off without a car (the engine seized completely yesterday and there's no point in even asking what it will cost to repair it) or that it's a good thing we're not going away to the States to see my mother-in-law (who I like a lot) next week, but hey, I'll just have to work on it. I'm thinking the three (or more) hours a day I now have to spend on the bus will give me lots of thinking time.
and if you're looking for me, i'll just be right over here, under the kitchen sink, drinking bleach ...
*edited to add: i know two people who are called peggy. i like them both and they both read this blog, so that was horribly insensitive of me. i blame the contact high i got from the junkies on the bus. i apologize. please note appropriate editing has taken place.
Monday, June 25, 2007
I Gave At The Office
OK, this is a rant about school stuff but it isn't the one I planned the other day when the snatch at E's school made me feel like I was about 12 years old and had just failed math. I'll save that one for another day.
But dude, is it just me, or is elementary school (and possibly high school but we aren't there yet) all about fundraising? I mean we have the monthly bottle drives, the book sales, the hot dog days, the pizza days, the art on dishcloths, the fit-a-thons, the pledges the wedges and the dredges. I am being nickel-and-dimed to death here.
I can't think of a single week where I haven't been asked to find a $5 bill in my wallet for something that's going on at the school. And of course if you point out that you pay for it through your taxes and really you're just all out of cash, having used that money to, oh, I don't know, FEED your KID, you're suddenly one of the "non-participating" parents.
Last year when things were so horrible that I was feeding her and not me, they had a sale of kid's art on dish towels, for $11. And I couldn't get even one, and it killed me. But ELEVEN FUCKING DOLLARS for a dish towel? I think not. I can get a case of Kraft Dinner for that. Plus a gallon of milk and half a dozen eggs.
I started working when I was eleven. I went out and got a paper route. And I'm pretty sure I paid taxes on that. When I was twelve I started babysitting and when I was thirteen I got a regular weekend gig sitting for a kid whose mom was a nurse. I know for sure I didn't pay tax on that but if someone would like to sue me now, 32 years later they're welcome to try. And then when I was fourteen I started working in a restaurant, and when I was sixteen I worked in an office five nights a week plus Saturdays. And I paid tax on that.
And then when I finished college at eighteen I worked full-time for an insurance company in Toronto and you know I paid tax on that too.
I don't mind paying school taxes; I never minded. I didn't have my kid until I was 38, but I figured that paying for schools was something we all had a responsibility for. And so I paid and paid.
And now she's in school I'm still paying on my taxes, but now I'm paying and paying on all of these fucking fundraisers also.
I'm getting sort of fed up with it. Can you tell?
I'm bleeding out of my ears, people! Stop with the fucking fundraising! Just tell me at the beginning of the year that there will be $200 in costs over and above, and I'll write you a goddamned check.
Just educate my kid, ok? Don't make me come over there and smack you.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
oh hai, i has a LOL 4 u
No, I haven't lost my mind, I'm just all educated and stuff now.
No really, go look. It is to snort at.
Rant later. Maybe. I'm feeling mellow today but that could change without notice.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Ooh, Lookie Here
I'm all pissed-off and ranty, however I also happen to be all out of time and have a bunch of stuff in the dyepots, so for today I give you ...
Exciting new products you may wish to obtain for your very own! (Because who doesn't need a little instant cock in their lives?)
Tune in tomorrow for "I'm OK, You're OK Too, But Only If You Conform", or "Why I Love The Public School System"
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Good Grief, Is It That Time Already?
Yes, apparently it's time for yet another meltdown Chez Lapin.
I have lost all grip on time. I was on Friday all day Tuesday (imagine my dismay when the truth came out) and then today I've been on Wednesday all day. I'm relieved to find out it's actually Thursday but yeah ... it's all a little disorienting. I don't believe I'm entirely well at the moment.
So that's my lame-assed excused for not posting for a few days -- or hours, or maybe weeks -- whatever it was.
I have managed to accomplish a few things this week, though. For instance I have learned how good it feels to abdicate responsibility. "Honey, I can't find the so and so!" "What a pity. You'll have to do without it, then. No, we can't buy another one." "We're out of peanut butter!" "Well, I've eaten peanut butter twice in my life, neither of which occurrences were in this century, so I really can't say where it's gone. Ask the people who eat it." "Mom! Where's my PlasticBrandNameExpensiveItem?" "I don't know." "But I WAAAAAANT it!" "I'm sorry. You'll have to play with something else if you can't keep track of your toys. Here, have a spoon." (It turns out that she didn't want BrandNamePlasticExpensiveItem anyhow. She wanted my attention, and she's just as happy playing with the garden hose and a spoon than she is with the latest doll from the My Little Prostitute (tm) line or whatever the rage is these days.)
I don't know where anything is any more, and I really don't care. I'm sure that several "precious" items that people have left on the floor, expecting the maid to clean up, have likely found themselves walked on, broken, tossed in the trash, whatevah. The maid don't work here no more.
I'm doing dishes and laundry, just because, well, I eat and wear clothes and the smell gets to me after a while, however many items of clothing are also finding their way out of the house. Mysterious plastic bags are disappearing into the car and finding their way into the donation box on my way to work.
I do believe mommy may have snapped.
I've not been wasting all of my time screaming and breaking things, however! (There has actually been no screaming at all involved, which I think is even scarier for the other residents of the madhouse). No, no. I have been also having the flu (isn't vomiting fun?) and dyeing wool.
Let me reassure you here that the vomiting and the wool-dyeing have occurred in separate rooms.
I have discovered that if you are very, very kind to alpaca/tencel DK-weight yarn, that it dyes beautifully. Proof of this should be appearing this weekend (there are only four test skeins, dyed in "Tequila Sunrise", which I wish I had been drinking at the time even though I don't like tequila, but you know the vomiting and stuff sort of precludes the partaking of adult beverages. Or any beverages at all, for that matter.)
There may be some kind of cotton and some cashmere and even some linen should I find the energy to dye more stuff. And if I can borrow a camera. And if it really is Thursday now and this isn't all some sort of cruel game.
Oh yes, and work is completely fucked, but I'm glad it's come to this. I can't talk about the political stuff (which is just a bucket of fun), but I've been working my hours on a "temp" basis for a year and a half and the position has now been posted as permanent. Someone else with more seniority has bid on it and if he/she passes the testing then I'm back to part-time work.
Part-time work which will not pay the bills and will conflict directly with my husband's work schedule. There is a good possibility that this will not come to pass but it's certainly making me reevaluate things and make some hard decisions.
And melt down a little.
I should know in two or three weeks, at most. In the meantime I think I'm going to go dye some more wool. And knit washcloths.
oh yes and i am definitely going to do a drive for washcloths for the drop-in centre that i posted about a few days ago. i'm going to wait until the middle of july so that i have a little breathing room here, but watch this spot for exciting details. or, you know, boring details. but details, nonetheless.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
It's All How You Look At It, Really
My husband keeps complaining that my writing is hard to read. I keep telling him that my writing is lovely -- a work of art in fact -- and that he's clearly some sort of Philistine.
And then tonight I was dyeing wool and I looked at my notes and couldn't quite figure out why I needed 3/4 of a cup of bacon in the dyepot.
Bacon ... brown ... it's all the same, really.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Taking A Bite from the Sandwich of Reality
I was talking online to a friend tonight and she asked me how my car was doing. I responded with:
"Apart from the fucked-up electrical system, the mold on the seat, the destroyed upholstery, the no headlights, no brakes and cracked oil pan (and a tire with a huge-assed screw through it) the van's doing fine."
Um. I think it's time to consider a new vehicle, no?
This week has been a Series of Unfortunate Events. Nothing big, just endless little annoyances. My regular Friday morning relief was on vacation and the person filling in for her was late. Only about 10 minutes, but my regular person is usually 15 minutes early ... so I'm usually home by about the time that I actually got on the road Friday.
It wasn't her fault, there was a "police incident" which delayed her for about 20 minutes. (She wasn't just shining me on, it was all over the news on the way home, so she's forgiven.) I managed to grab maybe an hour of sleep before taking my kid in to school, instead of my usual two hours.
And then Ben's final paycheque from the last job was, according to his supervisor, supposed to be at the worksite on Thursday night. The worksite which is five minutes' drive from my house. We called on Thursday night and it hadn't arrived, so I called Friday and the supervisor gave me the name of the guy to call at head office. Well, apparently all final cheques are issued from head office as the employees have to turn in their uniforms before picking them up. So I went downtown and got it, but that took me about two and a half hours round trip (what's with all of this traffic? I'm used to working nights when there's nobody at all on the road.) For a few minutes they weren't going to give it to me, as Ben hadn't authorized it, but they made a few phone calls and it was all sorted out, which is good 'cause I can't contact him at the new job and I sure as hell wasn't leaving without it.
But that was my Friday morning sleep time gone completely.
I had received a call earlier in the week asking if I could go meet my woodworker at noon on Friday and I hesitated, but then said yes. My parents had said they could pick E up at school so I could sleep in the afternoon. I got there, he gave me two magnificent niddy-noddies in solid walnut, and then my parents found out that the "minor repair" to their car was actually major, and they wouldn't be able to get the car back until Monday at the soonest. And oh yes, it was going to cost them $1000.
So without a car -- you can see it coming, can't you? -- there was my Friday afternoon sleep time gone also.
I took E home and did the "bad mommy" thing of putting on the Electronic Babysitter (read: TV) and catching a couple of hours of sleep. Ben came home and took her out to eat and I muscled through my shift on Friday night. I got at least four hours of sleep so it wasn't bad.
So today I leapt out of bed, marginally refreshed, and did the "run around and get food in the house" thingie. Just before I did that, I posted pictures in my shop of the orange wool featured in yesterday's tasteful bathroom portrait.
And then I went out. Leaving the camera on.
The battery is now dead, the charger is at the house of the person who owns the camera, and there will be no more pictures of wool happening this weekend. She needs her camera back tomorrow, so I'm thinking it'll be mid-week before I get another update done (including the niddy-noddies which shall also be for sale).
All I can say is fuck me gently sideways. With a chainsaw.
addendum: My beloved Wenchlette is on line and tells me that there is a second battery in the camera. All is not lost! There will be further updates tomorrow, as well as more of some stuff that sold out.
praise the FSM
Friday, June 15, 2007
The View in the Loo
This is what I've been doing the last couple of days.
They should be dry and posted this weekend. They're almost dry now (in fact some are) but I've had exactly one hour of sleep in the last 24 and that somehow doesn't seem like enough, so I'm going to get my kid from school and then crash so I don't kill anyone at work tonight. They frown on that sort of thingie.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Not To Save My Life
I can, however, take pictures of my sock. That'll have to do for today.
And now I'm off to work.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
No Store Update
Exciting day -- Mr. Bunnie starts work tomorrow. Life is looking a little more cheerful around here. He'll be on his feet all day and there will certainly be whining involved, however I can stand a little whining if it's accompanied by a paycheck. Especially if the whining isn't coming from me.
I've been busy all day. It is now 8:35pm and I've just realized that a) I remain unwashed, b) although I have been out of bed for many hours, I seem to have bedhead and likely could use a shower for that aspect of my grooming alone and c) I have to leave for work at 8:30.
So there will be no store update today.
I have spent much of the day fiddling with skeins and wools and have borrowed a "real" camera for a day or two so that my photos don't look quite as assful. See? This actually looks like wool!
I'm going to mess with the settings and stuff a bit more tomorrow and then post what I've got done. Look for such exciting new products as "Coffee Bean", "Shut Up, Parrot", and "Black Orchid Revisited".
Unless I change the names overnight.
And if it's dry there may be some Camel Douche, but I'm going to try to think of a better name 'cause it's actually sort of nice and I'd like it to sell.
Rushing off to the shower now, and then out to make the world safe for democracy. Or maybe to knit on my sock and eat carrots all night. That might happen, too.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Our Excellent Adventure
Quick post, picture heavy.
Dyeing wool, very tired, apparently unable to form complete sentence.
Wenchlette and Mrs. Q and Mrs. Q's friend J and J's friend A picked me up at oh-dark-thirty. Unfortunately I had gone to bed only two and a half hours before I got up. I don't think I was particularly charming. They brought coffee, bless them.
Originally uploaded by Rabbitch
Here we are on the ferry. Wenchlette and I have apparently decided to use our knees as swifts. I look like some sort of demented praying mantis. See? I told you the pictures were sexy. I think I'll try to sit like that whenever possible in the future.
(And see those socks? Handmade for me by Emma. You may now start envying me. I'll wait 'til you're done.)
Once we got to the hostile (it wasn't actually hostile at all, they were very nice, it just amuses me to call it that. As you likely suspected, I am only 12 years old) I discovered just how rough "roughing it" was. I had to make my own bed. My bunk bed, in a room with a bunch of other people.
Originally uploaded by Rabbitch
There are very few things more disapproving than a Disapproving Rabbit. Paris Hilton ain't got nothin' on me.
We went for lunch (of which I disapproved) at an Irish Pub (of which I approved). There was coffee involved. I rapidly became less disapproving.
Off To See The Harlot
Originally uploaded by Rabbitch
It's hard to disapprove when you're the filling in a knitblogger sandwich. I find it amusing that although I've lost weight and half of my ass has disappeared, I still have several chins, all of which are shiny.
Originally uploaded by Rabbitch
This is quite possibly the worst picture ever taken of me. And yet ... I approve. (I would like to note, here, that I was not drunk. And I approve most heartily of this yarn. I have no idea what I thought I was doing at this point. There's a good chance I was trying to be funny. Did it work?)
And then ... the main event! I have no pictures of Herself speaking, in fact I didn't take any pictures at all except for one of the sideways elevator button, a much better photo of which appears on Mrs. Quimby's blog.
The Harlot Disapproves
Originally uploaded by Rabbitch
As you can see, I'm not the only one who was doing the disapproving. I think maybe the seventeen different colours being worn all at once was a bit much for her.
Also apparently I am tall.
Originally uploaded by Rabbitch
Now that's more like it!
She worships me. Don't let her tell you otherwise.
Originally uploaded by Rabbitch
I'm pretty sure the yarn insulted her. Either that or she thought that maybe I gave her a sack of goat barf or something.
It wasn't goat barf. Hell, it wasn't even goat.
Oh, It's Yarn
Originally uploaded by Rabbitch
Once she realized it was yarn, things took a decided turn for the better. She really is a harlot for yarn. (Hence the name, and stuff. Aren't you glad I helped you figure that one out? You're very welcome)
There was much merriment after this when 20 or 30 knitters descended on an unsuspecting pub (which seemed to think that knitters don't drink. We soon set them straight and I'm pretty sure there are pictures out there somewhere of Wenchlette drinking an entire pitcher of Bellinis through a straw. Who needs a glass?
I don't have any pictures of the revelries but I think there may be a few out there, judging from the number of flashes that were going off.
I'm not sure if the highlight of that part of the evening was watching a partially-inebriated man at the next table learn how to knit, or listening to Stephanie explain, in a broad Newfoundlander accent, how all men from Newfoundland are named Joe, and that it's a miracle any children there at all survive past the age of three (there was talk of jumping about on melting ice and winds strong enough to throw cars into the bay).
The three of us then retreated to the hostel and after a brief foray into the streets of Victoria in search of a bag of mixed nuts during which we got to watch a garbage can set on fire by a bunch of yahoos (and then on the return trip we got to watch a fire truck and a bunch of firemen with hoses extinguish the blaze) we had a pretty good night's sleep. I'm not used to sleeping with a bunch of strangers (well at least not all at once) so I sat up and read for a couple of hours but I still got five hours' sleep or a little more.
The next morning, Wenchlette had to be on the very early ferry so she could get to work on time, poor thing. Several hours after she left, I hauled my ass out of the surprisingly-comfortable bed and Mrs. Q and I went in search of a place of worship, it being Sunday and all.
We found one without a lot of difficulty. I think it was called Serious Coffee and they did not lie.
Correct Size Coffee Mug
Originally uploaded by Rabbitch
They understand very well that a "large" coffee should be just that. Large. Very.
Also very hot and fresh and good. It was some sort of medium roast organic fair-trade sort of coffee, so not only was I wide awake by the end of this mug, I was also virtuous. I think maybe I saved a whale, too.
I have no idea why my face looks like it was put together from a kit whose instructions only came in Latvian. I'm pretty sure whoever put it together had a couple of pieces left over.
We then met up with our other two traveling companions and had a great big fried breakfast which included large amounts of swineflesh. Oh the bacon, it is my friend. I had five pieces, each one of which was better than the last.
The weather was vile, just bucketing down with rain, so we skipped going to the fibre fest and just headed to the ferry.
By the time we got to the ferry the weather had turned and it was gorgeous. We got a huge bag of mini-donuts (food seems to feature quite prominently in this post, no?) and set sail for the mainland.
The Sailing Sock
Originally uploaded by Rabbitch
The sock enjoyed the trip, too.
Please note that during the time I knit this couple of inches of gorgeous sock (yarn is the Lucia sockweight from Posh Yarn -- merino and cashmere -- in the "Feather" colourway), Wenchlette completed almost a whole sock. She's a knitting fiend!
And that, my friends, is that. What a fantastic weekend. I need to desert my family more often.
Although next time if I returned to maybe one clean dish or one dry towel in the house, that would work out a bit better for me.
And now, back to dyeing wool. Look for a shop update tomorrow.
You may not find one, but look for it anyhow. You never know your luck.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Hi Honey, I'm Home!
Went to Victoria, played sardines in a car with two good friends, stayed in a hostile, saw The Harlot, drank beer, fondled fibre, knat, and made it back home in one piece.
I have one hell of a lot of work to get done in the next few days (shop update on Tuesday, FSM willin' and the creek don't rise) but I have some incredibly sexy pictures of me looking like I've been hit by a truck (I am not photogenic) and I'll share them and more of the story with you tomorrow if I can. Let's just say the entire time was fantastic (apart from the drunken rowdies and the fire in the garbage can) and I got a few inches of a gorgeous sock done.
In the meantime, go look at Mrs. Quimby's blog for a somewhat more satisfying update.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
On The Road Again
What do you get when you take one one talented, somewhat manic, exhausted but still amusing knitterwriter, add one fibre festival, one knitblogger, another knitblogger and one borderline-insane small rabbit?
Why, you get a road trip, of course.
Wenchlette and Mrs. Q and I and Mrs. Q's friend J are going to load our sorry asses (well, mine's sorry due to the fact that rather than going to bed I decided to stay up and dye wool) into J's station wagon later this morning and hit the road to see Her Harlotness pontificate in the lovely city of Victoria, BC.
Due to a number of circumstances -- not the least of which is the fact that my ISP has seen fit to lose much of my email over the last year -- I am showing up, dressed like a colour-blind geriatric whore, just hoping I can find a bed in a hostel to sleep in. Otherwise if you see someone who looks a lot like me, sitting in Denny's in Victoria at 4am, muttering imprecations and trying yet again to knit a toe-up sock, well, it probably IS me.
I shall try to blog about the entire silly scenario tomorrow night when I return. That is unless my head's blown up or I've been arrested or something.
In the meantime, give yourselves a pat on the back! Dorothy has reached, and surpassed, her goal of raising $2,000 for cancer research. Unfortunately she didn't reach $5,000, which is the point at which Mr. Dorothy said he would pose apologetically in her wedding dress, but it was still a damned fine effort.
As a lovely man I once worked with used to say, gudunya.
And now I'm going to go mix up some more dye, seeing I've decided to do some two-coloured thingie that will either be lovely or total ass, and then get some wool dyed and oh yes, maybe pack.
Thank the FSM I travel light.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
La La La, I Can't HEAR You!
But fortunately my kid can.
My daughter has had hearing problems for a few months. I guess it's more than that actually, because in Kindergarten when they did the hearing tests for the whole school she "failed". We knew she could hear perfectly well but The Gorgon (who is retiring this year, thank the FSM, and we are not going to her retirement party or buying her another $200 present) said that she had to go get tested again and really got it all up in her Kool-Aid when we delayed for a month or two. We took her into the Hearing Centre and they tested her and she could hear everything just fine.
But over the last few months we've been noticing that's she's turning the TV up way too loud, and she's asking us to repeat things far too often, so it was time to do something about it.
I took her to the doc a few weeks ago after E had had a couple of "sore ears" (easily resolved by some Children's Advil) and the doc said that she had a little wax buildup but nothing big enough to cause deafness. She suggested we go to the Hearing Testing Centre and I said no, that's where they said she could hear OK and she can't so we have to go see someone else.
So they sent her to a specialist.
Ben took her to the ENT specialist yesterday. Apparently he's way cool and talked to E for quite some time and then said to Ben that with her extensive vocabulary and interactive skills it was clear there was no biological problem. ie, the kid wasn't deaf or in any way cognitively disabled.
He looked in her right ear and it was fine, but in the left there was some fluid behind the eardrum, which caused it to be unable to vibrate fully.
He said it wasn't a big dealie but she was a little deaf in that one ear, and that these things often resolve themselves. We're going to take her back in August and if the fluid is still there he'll make a hole in the eardrum and put a tube in to drain it, but he didn't want to do so yet if it wasn't urgent.
We've been working on her focusing and concentration, as she's easily distracted but, as with many bright kids, she's easily bored in school and plays up when her attention isn't caught.
I told her teacher today that she was ok in her right ear and could hear fairly well in her left ear but if she was speaking on the left side she'd have to speak up. I didn't have the heart to tell her that half of the "deafness" was that she was just bored and that Mrs. A would have to work on being more interesting.
She's a really good teacher but she has to play to the whole crowd, you know? The "no child left behind" dealie touted by Mr. Bush, (although he's not our fearless leader, thank fuck) also translates to the "no child gets ahead" dealie.
We can't afford private school, and we can't afford to homeschool, so I guess we'll just bumble through as best we can.
But at least I know now, she's not deaf. She's just ignoring me.
I guess I have to work on being more interesting too *g*
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
A Brief Instructional Post
Handmade. Beautifully finished. Originally intended for my store but uh ... maybe not. my precioussssss
Check in a month or so when my Friendly Neighbourhood Woodworker has had a chance to make some more.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
I gots nothing for you today. Nada.
(you! in the back! the one waving a beer about and chortling! if you yell "try to keep it under 10,000 words, then" once more i'm going to come over there and knit you a Chicken Hat.)
So today, seeing I'm all out of sound and fury, we are going to have a link-heavy post, and discuss knitting. Yes, knitting. On a knitting blog.
Don't faint, you'll fall over and hurt yourselves. Both of you. And I'd hate to have that on my conscience.
As a continuing feature of this blog, I am going to indulge in a little annoying knit-oriented do-goodery. This is being done mostly because I am too drunk to knit socks and I haven't done a thing on Kiri since I didn't photograph my ass last week.
1. Dorothy is more than half-way to her goal of raising $2,000 for cancer research.
As an aside, if she reaches her goal, her husband is going to make a public apology for laughing at her. It is my private dream that he shall do so wearing Birkenstocks and her wedding dress but I don't think that's particularly likely.
She has prizes coming out the ying-yang (which probably explains why she walks like that), said prizes including some yarn from yours truly as well as an absolute assload of sock yarn and all sorts of other delicious goodies. So iffen y'all have a dollar or three to spare (CANADIAN dollar, even, which is like four cents USD) then hop on over and help a good cause and keep my dream of Mr. Dorothy in a wedding dress alive!
(and with dreams like that, is it any wonder i wake up screaming?)
2. The deadline for mailing your stuff for Dulaan is fast approaching, so get those needles flying. If you're in the Vancouver area and would like to knit for this amazing project but don't have the yarn or the loot to purchase any, drop me a line at bunniegirl at shaw dot ca. I'm betting I could shake some loose.
Team Vancouver is doing well. Wenchlette has contributed five hats (some made from yarn that I dyed with my own little paws) and Tammy had her a blog contest going on for a while (all gone now, alas). I don't know how many items she raised/initiated/inspired but we've been doing pretty well. I was intending to make 20 just to show MaryB that I could but I seem to be only at 8 now (I thought it was ten but I clearly can't count) so I doubt that's going to happen. Ten is doable, though, and ten I will do.
A couple of the skeins of wool that I put in the window over at Birkeland got all faded from the sun, so I took them out of the store and I'm going to use them to make some hats and mittens.
If you need some inspiration (as if all of those little kids' faces isn't inspiration enough), take a peek at what happened at Ryan's Dulaan-A-Thaan last night. She and TMK and about 20 of their closest friends sat and knat and drank tea and ate lots of good-looking stuff for eleven hours, and got 100 more items ready to ship out.
I don't think she's going to have any trouble meeting her "10,000 or Bust" item quota for the year. I'm still betting we're going to be approaching 20,000 when all is said and done.
please note they are in real need of adult items this year. seems we managed to clothe all of the kids in MongofreakinLEEah. you're all fantastic and deserve a round of applause. that being said, if you've made a baby/kid item, SEND IT. they're having more babies over there every day; nothing will go to waste.
r. Someone asked a few days ago about an easy mitten pattern for Ann's drive for mittens for the Cheyenne River Reservation.
Since she started keeping track (almost three years ago) she and her group (and you) have sent over 1,000 pairs of mittnz to the program. Anyone think we could maybe do 1,000 in one year? Anyone? Bueller?
i have no idea what that bueller thing is about but all the big kids say it so i thought i'd try it out. it doesn't seem to have helped my understanding in any way
I have managed to gather (entirely through the work of others, I might add) three easy patterns: Boat Oar Mittens, which I am going to make with my faded bulky yarn (and may well grab some out of stock also, seeing I can get lots more of this wool, and dyeing it is such a hoot). Another easy pattern for worsted-weight yarn is Sideways Mittens, and Jean has shared her "No Swatch/No Gauge" mitten pattern with Ann, so I swiped the link just to make it look like I'm doing something.
+/-. As I have noted before, Ann is clearly some sort of annoying do-gooding strumpet, possibly almost on the scale of Norma. I think between the two of them and Ryan, our reputation for being evil and fearsome is in danger of being toppled. Fortunately there is me to balance the whole thing out.
I knew I'd find my purpose in life one day.
Anyhow, Ann has also brought to my (and possibly your) attention that there is a guild gathering cotton washcloths in Victoria, BC. These are destined to be donated to newly-trained midwives in the Philippines. Apparently they get something like five days of training, and then they are each presented with one of these coveted cloths, for the purpose of washing off Mom and Baby. Five days of training. One washcloth. Dude, that's all just scary.
Then again women have been having babies all alone for billyuns of years (or many thousands, anyhow), and I suppose that five days of training is a heck of a lot better than none. Ditto the washcloth.
Seeing I knit washcloths compulsively when stressed, anyhow, and seeing I've been a little stressed of late, I've finished a couple and will be sending them off shortly. Please contact either me or Ann for further info if you have a couple you'd like to donate to the cause.
é. And speaking of washcloths, I gathered a ton of them (many thanks to my stalker Marie -- are you still reading? I haven't heard from you in ages) and donated them to one of the local transitional housing/shelter places last year (or was it the year before? As Kermit says, time's fun when you're having flies). They gave them out in their Christmas packages, for use either in bathing or in the kitchens. The shelters that house women are especially grateful for these, as many of the women ask for washcloths for their showers and the shelters just can't stretch their budgets to buy any.
Once I finally post the totals and the names of the final four or five prize winners for the Hat Thingie I was doing (yes, I know my self-imposed deadline was the middle of March. It's not March yet, shut up) I'm going to start up another drive for washcloths, with a goal of something like 100 for the end of November so that I can get them to the shelters in time.
I'm figuring that if work (and/or the lack of work in Mr. Bunnie's case) continues to be such a clusterfuck, I can do that many all by myself.
I was going to conclude this by addressing all of the comments I haven't answered over the last couple of months, but I'm pretty sure I'm close to my 10,000-word limit, so I'll end here.
I promise to get all pissy about something some time soon. Like maybe that weird man at the bus stop today, who actually went home proudly wearing his "xxxxxx Foods, Trainee" badge, with his name on it. And his apron that he wore at work. And who was silently singing show tunes and making odd hand gestures at the bus stop.
I think he maybe thought he was one of the Supremes or something, but it was decidedly creepy.
And I think if something creeps me out, there's a good chance that it was all wrong on at least four different levels.
Off to adjust my halo and maybe starch my habit or something.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
I Got The Music in Me
Great, Blogger ate my post, how nice. I shall try to reconstruct it.
Anyhow, today was such a day. I mean such a day.
My kidlet and I went to a fundraiser for the North Shore Celtic Ensemble. We were there from about 2pm to 7pm and I have NEVER had a less whiney time with the kid.
We arrived at 2:02pm and the Irish Dancers were already on. She stared at them like someone in the desert looks at a water cooler. Then the fiddlers came on and she was mesmerized. She's been asking me for a violin for three years now so I guess she means it. Those kids (ages five to about 15) were rocking the house.
And then there were more dancers, and then more and more and more fiddlers (there had to be about 40 of them at one point) and then singers and dancers and well ... you get the idea.
It made me remember why I used to dance.
I actually got up on the floor at one point. Most of you likely don't know that I used to dance competitively, I was a Scottish Country Dancer (and won two trophies in the dark and distant past) and I was also on a show team and we danced our little toes off in many locations, including hospitals and half-way houses and the like. I haven't danced in 20 years and swore I never would again, but I got up today on the floor and danced with my kid.
For nobody but her would I have done that. And I sucked, seeing I've never done Irish Dancing before in my life, but we had a hoot.
And there's a damned good chance that I may do it again.
Man, that felt good, and my feet remembered where to go. Well, not in the middle part where they got all Irish and I discovered I had three feet too few, but the rest of the time. Yes.
Anyone have any idea why I have been denying myself this for so long? I feel like getting on my shoes and dancing for six hours without sitting down, like I used to.
Well no, my knees wouldn't let me do that, but two hours maybe.
Dude, it's good to have kids to remind you how good it feels to just ... dance like a motherfucker.
I'm gonna do that again.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Hey there, I haven't forgotten about this-here blog, but it's been a busy week Chez Lapin.
The store's going well, and I'm anxiously awaiting a couple of large shipments of undyed yarn so that I can stock up again. Alas, none of it arrived today so I'm going to maybe have to spend the weekend enjoying my family instead. What horrors!
Actually we're nowhere near running out of wool so there will be some dyeing as well, but there shall also be much running about in the sun and enjoying ourselves.
And maybe if I find the pictures from last week's foray to the farm I'll show you some sheep being sheared. Because, like, I know nobody here knows what a sheep looks like.
And now off to work to knit some little tiny wristers that one of Jodi's pictures inspired Her Majesty to demand that I create.
I think they'll likely look like tubes. With a buttonhole for her thumb.
(are you sensing a trend here?)