are really lucky I'm introverted and afraid of the law, because otherwise they'd be pretty unhappy with my reaction after they started REMOVING A GARAGE ROOF AT 8:30 THIS MORNING. Under my bedroom windows. It's 2:30 and they haven't stopped. I've escaped twice with a book -- went to the PO and then got some lunch and ate it in the car by the Bay, then went to Starbucks and read again. They had better finish soon or my head may self-remove. I'll make sure I go outside first and stand in their driveway so it's their mess, though.
Actually I guess they're not necessarily so lucky since I sent an email noise complaint to the city.
I'm the kind of person who cringes when my TV is too loud and if I'm watching it with others they always pooh-pooh my turning it down. But I hate other people's noise and feel I ought not to inflict it on others. I realize if you're replacing a roof you need to make noise, but a) how about LATER IN THE DAMNED MORNING and/or b) on a weekday when most of your neighbors will be at work?
I know I'm very sensitive to noise. Like when I went to the Cathedral and the docent and the monk both bugged me by not being silent. (I imagine you can't give a tour to hearing folks by using sign language. Alas.) I wish one could close one's ears like one can close one's eyes.
Finished a baby hat last night for a coworker's granddaughter. Starting on a gift hat today. Then a commissioned scarf, and then I'm doing only selfish knitting for awhile.
Unless I'm in prison. Neighbors.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Christmas Stack
A super-sharp peeler, two seasons of Scrubs, an amaryllis, a stack o'books (and two more are coming), extra standalone burner and copper jam pan, and the two bags my friend made me.
Just had tea and muffins with another friend, and am about to settle down with one of the DVDs and the baby hat I need to finish ASAP. And three more days off after this.
A lovely respite!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Wow
So, among other wonderful Christmas gifts, my nephews got me this. I can't wait to make a batch of jam in it.
Many fun books to peruse, a couple of seasons of Scrubs, an extra standalone burner also for jam-making, some new kitchen cupboard pulls to replace the ones I dislike, a handmade yoga mat bag (and a small bag, made by the same person, that's going to become my lunch tote), and other cool things. More details and pix tomorrow -- which is going to be a day of snoozing, reading, TV, brunch-making, kitty-cuddling, knitting, and general decadence. And better light for pictures, I hope, although it's raining.
My knitted items went over well.
Middle sister's cowl.
Oldest sister's scarf.
The scarf's stitch pattern.
I loved making this especially because each row was the same, so I could watch TV and not look at any pattern. The cowl was fairly simple, too, although the increase round was hard on my hands -- knitting into the stitch below was physically difficult for me. Thankfully it only happens three times in this pattern. I made another one in red for a friend of mine, so I managed to soldier through the round six whole times. LOL.
And now to bed with some of my books!
Many fun books to peruse, a couple of seasons of Scrubs, an extra standalone burner also for jam-making, some new kitchen cupboard pulls to replace the ones I dislike, a handmade yoga mat bag (and a small bag, made by the same person, that's going to become my lunch tote), and other cool things. More details and pix tomorrow -- which is going to be a day of snoozing, reading, TV, brunch-making, kitty-cuddling, knitting, and general decadence. And better light for pictures, I hope, although it's raining.
My knitted items went over well.
Middle sister's cowl.
Oldest sister's scarf.
The scarf's stitch pattern.
I loved making this especially because each row was the same, so I could watch TV and not look at any pattern. The cowl was fairly simple, too, although the increase round was hard on my hands -- knitting into the stitch below was physically difficult for me. Thankfully it only happens three times in this pattern. I made another one in red for a friend of mine, so I managed to soldier through the round six whole times. LOL.
And now to bed with some of my books!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Cry of Desperation
It's cold (by our standards). I am a hot-blooded person who is rarely cold, and I. am. cold. Wrapping a big wool French-sized scarf/shawl around my nose, so cold. Wishing I had gloves, which I don't. Running the heater, which I hate doing. Off for a hot hot bath in a minute.
Just came back from a depressing parish council meeting. I can't even explain why it's depressing, except that I simply am not coming from the same place as most of the other members.
And something went down at work today that has me in a huge tizzy of anxiety. My workplace is the antithesis of a laid-back, easygoing, "let's just get the problem fixed and move on" kind of place. You know how a kid in a dysfunctional family might skulk around, anticipating getting smacked? That's how I feel.
I know. No one will physically harm me; they're not going to kill me. But in this economy everyone who has a job walks on eggshells.
And this economy has me rattled like it does everyone else. I've been making up bags of stuff for the Goodwill, so that if I have to put everything into storage and camp in someone's basement, I have less I need to store. My only living requirements are: my cats, some knitting, some books, and Internet access. Don't need all my books or all my yarn to be with me, or even unlimited Internet like I have now (though that'd be hard). And really, my cats are the two things from which I cannot be separated. However, let's pray it doesn't come to that.
(ETA: OK, I'd like access to a tub and not just a shower, and I have a hard time sleeping on the floor, but since I have the air mattress I've taken camping (self-inflating!) and the sleeping bag I took as well, that could work. I could bring all my pillows and build a little fort around myself.)
In any event, I'm sitting here in quiet shivery desperation at the moment. I need a miracle.
Just came back from a depressing parish council meeting. I can't even explain why it's depressing, except that I simply am not coming from the same place as most of the other members.
And something went down at work today that has me in a huge tizzy of anxiety. My workplace is the antithesis of a laid-back, easygoing, "let's just get the problem fixed and move on" kind of place. You know how a kid in a dysfunctional family might skulk around, anticipating getting smacked? That's how I feel.
I know. No one will physically harm me; they're not going to kill me. But in this economy everyone who has a job walks on eggshells.
And this economy has me rattled like it does everyone else. I've been making up bags of stuff for the Goodwill, so that if I have to put everything into storage and camp in someone's basement, I have less I need to store. My only living requirements are: my cats, some knitting, some books, and Internet access. Don't need all my books or all my yarn to be with me, or even unlimited Internet like I have now (though that'd be hard). And really, my cats are the two things from which I cannot be separated. However, let's pray it doesn't come to that.
(ETA: OK, I'd like access to a tub and not just a shower, and I have a hard time sleeping on the floor, but since I have the air mattress I've taken camping (self-inflating!) and the sleeping bag I took as well, that could work. I could bring all my pillows and build a little fort around myself.)
In any event, I'm sitting here in quiet shivery desperation at the moment. I need a miracle.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Does Anyone Else Hate Sunday Nights?
I hated them when I was a kid -- I'd get depressed and anxious as night fell, thinking about school (I love learning but until college was not a fan of the school experience in general).
I hate them as an adult -- I get depressed and anxious as... well, you get the idea.
The only time Sunday nights have not caused sharp unhappiness are when I have nowhere to be Monday morning. Which is why, although my birthday this coming year is on a Saturday, I will be taking the following Monday off. I don't work on my birthday if it's during the week and I don't want the day after my birthday to be one of depression.
It's ten. This is one of those times when I feel like a little kid whining, "I don't wanna go to bed!" I actually was asleep on Friday night by 10.30, because I knew I wasn't shortening my few remaining free hours -- I could sleep in the next day, had nothing I had to do but go to Mass at 5. But on a work night? I want to stay up as late as possible to milk every last second of freedom. Yet, as a certified Non Morning Person, staying up til midnight makes the morning even more awful.
Bah. Sunday nights.
I hate them as an adult -- I get depressed and anxious as... well, you get the idea.
The only time Sunday nights have not caused sharp unhappiness are when I have nowhere to be Monday morning. Which is why, although my birthday this coming year is on a Saturday, I will be taking the following Monday off. I don't work on my birthday if it's during the week and I don't want the day after my birthday to be one of depression.
It's ten. This is one of those times when I feel like a little kid whining, "I don't wanna go to bed!" I actually was asleep on Friday night by 10.30, because I knew I wasn't shortening my few remaining free hours -- I could sleep in the next day, had nothing I had to do but go to Mass at 5. But on a work night? I want to stay up as late as possible to milk every last second of freedom. Yet, as a certified Non Morning Person, staying up til midnight makes the morning even more awful.
Bah. Sunday nights.
Baking Rundown
All Nigella recipes, from How to be a Domestic Goddess.
Coffee & Walnut Splodge Cookies: Going to add chocolate chips next time, and cut out the salt because I always use salted butter. (I find that things are a wee bit too bland with unsalted, especially bread. And it's too much of a hassle to keep two kind on hand.)
Gingerbread: Too sweet, not gingery enough, and the lemon icing needs a much higher sugar-to-lemon-juice ratio, or it's a glaze and not icing. However, the sticky English texture is very good, and you can tell the cake base is tasty. It called for two teaspoons of fresh grated ginger; I like my ginger things very gingery so I may make that two tablespoons instead. The icing, while not thick enough, can easily be made so by tweaking the proportions, and the lemon is a lovely offset to the ginger. I will make this again, too, with adjustments.
Christmas Morning Muffins: They're cranberry/orange muffins with a cinnamon sugar topping, and they are fan-freakin'-tastic. Also, easy. I probably will make these for me on Christmas morning as suggested. (Well, more likely Christmas afternoon, since I will have been up very late the night before and we don't do anything on Christmas Day.) This required no tweaking whatsoever.
So I had a friend over for tea today and she was a guinea pig. She too likes gingery things very spicy, and she agreed on all counts on the gingerbread. It's not horrible, but it's sooooooooo sweet than even I, who can handle a sweet, think it's too much. Thankfully that's easily fixed since the hardest thing about this recipe was just grating some ginger. No biggie.
I remember reading in one of Laurie Colwin's books about her search for the perfect gingerbread. She was a fan of the damp English kind, too, apparently. I should dig that book out.
Coffee & Walnut Splodge Cookies: Going to add chocolate chips next time, and cut out the salt because I always use salted butter. (I find that things are a wee bit too bland with unsalted, especially bread. And it's too much of a hassle to keep two kind on hand.)
Gingerbread: Too sweet, not gingery enough, and the lemon icing needs a much higher sugar-to-lemon-juice ratio, or it's a glaze and not icing. However, the sticky English texture is very good, and you can tell the cake base is tasty. It called for two teaspoons of fresh grated ginger; I like my ginger things very gingery so I may make that two tablespoons instead. The icing, while not thick enough, can easily be made so by tweaking the proportions, and the lemon is a lovely offset to the ginger. I will make this again, too, with adjustments.
Christmas Morning Muffins: They're cranberry/orange muffins with a cinnamon sugar topping, and they are fan-freakin'-tastic. Also, easy. I probably will make these for me on Christmas morning as suggested. (Well, more likely Christmas afternoon, since I will have been up very late the night before and we don't do anything on Christmas Day.) This required no tweaking whatsoever.
So I had a friend over for tea today and she was a guinea pig. She too likes gingery things very spicy, and she agreed on all counts on the gingerbread. It's not horrible, but it's sooooooooo sweet than even I, who can handle a sweet, think it's too much. Thankfully that's easily fixed since the hardest thing about this recipe was just grating some ginger. No biggie.
I remember reading in one of Laurie Colwin's books about her search for the perfect gingerbread. She was a fan of the damp English kind, too, apparently. I should dig that book out.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Full Moon
But thankfully it wasn't too insane at work today -- at least the people I dealt with weren't. I did so much today, though, I'm even surprised and pleased it's all finished. Whew.
After my nightly love-fest with Rachel Maddow, I mixed up some of Nigella Lawson's Coffee and Walnut Splodge Cookies (she has such homey-evocative names). The dough is good; the first batch is baking. I am having a friend over for tea Sunday and I have to feed the parish council Monday night, so this will be a baking weekend. I'm going to make spice cookies, oatmeal cookies, and probably some kind of quick bread.
Also, I'm knitting something for my shop steward, to cheer her up and thank her for a job I could never, ever do. Since joining Ravelry, I've knitted up a storm. I know I spend time there when I could be knitting or cooking or spinning or whatever, but I've still gotten much more done in the last couple of months than in the preceding year!
Cookies calling.
ETA: The cookies are not sweet. I made them as the recipe directs, but they need at least another half cup of sugar or maybe some chocolate chips. I'll eat them myself but I wouldn't share them as is, unfortunately. (At least I thought I made them as the recipe directs. I may have another look to see if I left out something sweet!)
After my nightly love-fest with Rachel Maddow, I mixed up some of Nigella Lawson's Coffee and Walnut Splodge Cookies (she has such homey-evocative names). The dough is good; the first batch is baking. I am having a friend over for tea Sunday and I have to feed the parish council Monday night, so this will be a baking weekend. I'm going to make spice cookies, oatmeal cookies, and probably some kind of quick bread.
Also, I'm knitting something for my shop steward, to cheer her up and thank her for a job I could never, ever do. Since joining Ravelry, I've knitted up a storm. I know I spend time there when I could be knitting or cooking or spinning or whatever, but I've still gotten much more done in the last couple of months than in the preceding year!
Cookies calling.
ETA: The cookies are not sweet. I made them as the recipe directs, but they need at least another half cup of sugar or maybe some chocolate chips. I'll eat them myself but I wouldn't share them as is, unfortunately. (At least I thought I made them as the recipe directs. I may have another look to see if I left out something sweet!)
Sunday, December 7, 2008
My Idea of a Lovely Afternoon
As I finished Christmas Item #2 (all done!) I watched a five-part back-to-back series on the Wehrmacht on the History Channel.
Almost everyone in my family would be rolling their eyes at me!
I'm not sure why I'm fascinated with the European theatre of WWII. Although I had an uncle who was a Ranger in Europe, I didn't know him very well and he died when I was in high school. My father was in the Pacific theatre, which has never interested me very much, although I was disappointed when in Hawaii in 2007 that I didn't have time to visit the Arizona memorial.
The only places I have been that were directly affected by WWII are England, specifically London, and Paris. My then-husband and I stood under the Arc de Triomphe and got goosebumps thinking of how awful it must have been to see the Germans enter and walk down the Champs Elysees. (And two of those who did might have been his great-grandfathers, but that's another story!) I would very much like to do a WWII tour of the Continent. Morbid? I suppose... but it's just something I'd find fascniating.
Part of it is probably my love of history. When I visited Holyrood, I was the first one into Mary, Queen of Scots' bedroom and the last one out. I stood there staring at the panelled ceiling, thinking about how she had stood there and seen the same thing. I think I gawped all the way up and down the Royal Mile.
I'm just weird that way.
(Incidentally -- on the Royal Mile I had the best ice cream [peach] I've ever had. This was 1990 and I still remember it.)
Of course, in Scotland I also felt more at home than anywhere else in the world. I fit right in -- I've never been surrounded by so many redheads in my life. It was great. I don't know where in Scotland my maternal grandmother's family comes from (although the greater clan we belong to is the MacDonalds), but I'd like to find out sometime. Unfortunately, I'd probably go there and be another annoying Scottish-American come to romanticize her roots!
Anyway. Knitting and Nazi documentaries. I had a great day.
Almost everyone in my family would be rolling their eyes at me!
I'm not sure why I'm fascinated with the European theatre of WWII. Although I had an uncle who was a Ranger in Europe, I didn't know him very well and he died when I was in high school. My father was in the Pacific theatre, which has never interested me very much, although I was disappointed when in Hawaii in 2007 that I didn't have time to visit the Arizona memorial.
The only places I have been that were directly affected by WWII are England, specifically London, and Paris. My then-husband and I stood under the Arc de Triomphe and got goosebumps thinking of how awful it must have been to see the Germans enter and walk down the Champs Elysees. (And two of those who did might have been his great-grandfathers, but that's another story!) I would very much like to do a WWII tour of the Continent. Morbid? I suppose... but it's just something I'd find fascniating.
Part of it is probably my love of history. When I visited Holyrood, I was the first one into Mary, Queen of Scots' bedroom and the last one out. I stood there staring at the panelled ceiling, thinking about how she had stood there and seen the same thing. I think I gawped all the way up and down the Royal Mile.
I'm just weird that way.
(Incidentally -- on the Royal Mile I had the best ice cream [peach] I've ever had. This was 1990 and I still remember it.)
Of course, in Scotland I also felt more at home than anywhere else in the world. I fit right in -- I've never been surrounded by so many redheads in my life. It was great. I don't know where in Scotland my maternal grandmother's family comes from (although the greater clan we belong to is the MacDonalds), but I'd like to find out sometime. Unfortunately, I'd probably go there and be another annoying Scottish-American come to romanticize her roots!
Anyway. Knitting and Nazi documentaries. I had a great day.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Yarn Insanity!
So I got off work, did grocery shopping, then came home and took a look at some coupons I had. I've decided to get smaller amounts of luscious yarn, to make small things. I have come to learn I am not at the moment going to be knitting lace, and I will likely never knit a sweater. There is an Anne Hanson throw I want to make, but that's next year. So.
I decided to drive out to Albany and go to K2tog, for which I had a 20% off coupon. I ended up parking at the Berkeley end of Solano and walking about a mile downhill. And then of course a mile uphill back. I got 4 skeins of Panda Silk DK in Berry Smoothie, 2 skeins of Frog Tree Alpaca Chunky in a blue multi-tone, and 2 skeins Misti Cotton (83% cotton, 17% silk) in a soft green (#7 on that page).
Then I went to Article Pract because I was looking for chunkier pink-toned yarn, and I found some stuff in the sale bin: 3 skeins of Manos silk blend in Magenta, 3 skeins of Araucania Limari in Purples, another 320-yard skein of Fiesta Boomerang (I have one skein for a commissioned scarf) in Moulin Rouge, and then 2 skeins of something not-pink, but which I have been hankering after (no pun intended) forever. The skeins are normally $51 at Article Pract, but these were on sale for $23: Curious Creek Oban in Glacier Lakes. (They probably had six or so skeins at this price, but even I'm not that crazy.) Funnily -- I have the same colorway in unspun form as well. I saw a brick of it as Stitches in 2006 and would have given my right arm for it. Lurve this colorway. (I have spun a bit of it, but I still have quite a bit left. I know...)
I'll take a picture of the haul at some point this weekend. The colors are glorious!
I also bought a little Christmas tree/bush thing at Trader Joe's. It has big cute marbley lights on it too, and hopefully it will live on my deck after the holidays and maybe I can use it again next year. I last had a tree of any sort in 1997. It's just sitting on my stepstool, but the packages I arranged around it hide the grey plastic. Once it's properly dark I'll take a picture of that as well.
And now I'm home, making coffee and planning to knit while watching my usual Scrubs re-runs followed by Rachel Maddow. I love her -- she's even from a couple of cities over. I love watching someone pontificate who shares most of my views, and who lights up like a real Christmas tree when she smiles or laughs. And I am always in awe of Rhodes Scholars. So, that's my evening, in a nutshell. It's good.
ETA: Here's the loot. It's a pretty good picture, I think, though I may try again in daylight.
I decided to drive out to Albany and go to K2tog, for which I had a 20% off coupon. I ended up parking at the Berkeley end of Solano and walking about a mile downhill. And then of course a mile uphill back. I got 4 skeins of Panda Silk DK in Berry Smoothie, 2 skeins of Frog Tree Alpaca Chunky in a blue multi-tone, and 2 skeins Misti Cotton (83% cotton, 17% silk) in a soft green (#7 on that page).
Then I went to Article Pract because I was looking for chunkier pink-toned yarn, and I found some stuff in the sale bin: 3 skeins of Manos silk blend in Magenta, 3 skeins of Araucania Limari in Purples, another 320-yard skein of Fiesta Boomerang (I have one skein for a commissioned scarf) in Moulin Rouge, and then 2 skeins of something not-pink, but which I have been hankering after (no pun intended) forever. The skeins are normally $51 at Article Pract, but these were on sale for $23: Curious Creek Oban in Glacier Lakes. (They probably had six or so skeins at this price, but even I'm not that crazy.) Funnily -- I have the same colorway in unspun form as well. I saw a brick of it as Stitches in 2006 and would have given my right arm for it. Lurve this colorway. (I have spun a bit of it, but I still have quite a bit left. I know...)
I'll take a picture of the haul at some point this weekend. The colors are glorious!
I also bought a little Christmas tree/bush thing at Trader Joe's. It has big cute marbley lights on it too, and hopefully it will live on my deck after the holidays and maybe I can use it again next year. I last had a tree of any sort in 1997. It's just sitting on my stepstool, but the packages I arranged around it hide the grey plastic. Once it's properly dark I'll take a picture of that as well.
And now I'm home, making coffee and planning to knit while watching my usual Scrubs re-runs followed by Rachel Maddow. I love her -- she's even from a couple of cities over. I love watching someone pontificate who shares most of my views, and who lights up like a real Christmas tree when she smiles or laughs. And I am always in awe of Rhodes Scholars. So, that's my evening, in a nutshell. It's good.
ETA: Here's the loot. It's a pretty good picture, I think, though I may try again in daylight.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
On the one hand... on the other hand...
Good hand:
The last few days I have felt needed and even respected at work.
Bad hand:
The former friend who got the apology for whatever mysterious thing I did? Well, we had an interaction today. That is, I needed this person to do something for me and they did, but in total silence, even when I thanked them. I retreated and burst into tears. And I still have no fucking idea what I did, except that it must have been so heinous that my apology could not be accepted and civility is impossible. You'd think I'd remember having done something like that.
Good hand:
The car is washed and I have new pillows!
Bad hand:
No closer to figuring out how to orchestrate new life direction.
Good hand:
I finished a bobbin of pretty fine (as in thin) spinning; am leaving early tomorrow and hitting the yarn shop to procure yarn to do another version of the Thing I just finished, in a different color; tomorrow's payday. The leaving early bit means I can do grocery and yarn shopping and still be home way earlier, to have a relaxing yarn-filled evening.
Bad Hand:
I've had a stitch in my side for a few days now, and it keeps me awake. :-P
On the whole I'm more cheerful than I've been. And a half-day payday Friday is nothing to sneeze at!
The last few days I have felt needed and even respected at work.
Bad hand:
The former friend who got the apology for whatever mysterious thing I did? Well, we had an interaction today. That is, I needed this person to do something for me and they did, but in total silence, even when I thanked them. I retreated and burst into tears. And I still have no fucking idea what I did, except that it must have been so heinous that my apology could not be accepted and civility is impossible. You'd think I'd remember having done something like that.
Good hand:
The car is washed and I have new pillows!
Bad hand:
No closer to figuring out how to orchestrate new life direction.
Good hand:
I finished a bobbin of pretty fine (as in thin) spinning; am leaving early tomorrow and hitting the yarn shop to procure yarn to do another version of the Thing I just finished, in a different color; tomorrow's payday. The leaving early bit means I can do grocery and yarn shopping and still be home way earlier, to have a relaxing yarn-filled evening.
Bad Hand:
I've had a stitch in my side for a few days now, and it keeps me awake. :-P
On the whole I'm more cheerful than I've been. And a half-day payday Friday is nothing to sneeze at!
Monday, December 1, 2008
Terrifying Leap
I need to make an insanely drastic change in my life (well, insanely drastic to me, anyway), and I'm terrified of failure... especially because in this endeavor, failure is not an option.
I was raised that "people just don't do that," where that is anything the least bit unconventional, risky, or unusual. I was raised to believe, for instance, that any job is a good job simply by virtue of being a job. (In this economy, there is something to be said for that, but not in the overall sense.) You also don't call boys, talk loudly, sit with your knees apart, drive if your man is in the car, drop an f bomb, or "jazz up hymns."* I have done unconventional things by my mother's standards -- all of the above minus the hymns (she totally deflated me on that one), had online boyfriends before it was common, met my ex-husband online ditto, for instance, plus a bunch of unbloggables. ;-)
But things that involve me, just me, all on my own -- scary. I have no one to guide me here, either, and no money to pay a professional to do so. If I could have five hours with a life coach -- that would be stupendous. Not happening.
But I need to find a way. Somehow. And get past the "people just don't do that" issue, finally. Or else I will end up having spent forty years of my life miserable, and for what?
*Amazingly, it seems my Baptist mother had never heard of gospel music.
I was raised that "people just don't do that," where that is anything the least bit unconventional, risky, or unusual. I was raised to believe, for instance, that any job is a good job simply by virtue of being a job. (In this economy, there is something to be said for that, but not in the overall sense.) You also don't call boys, talk loudly, sit with your knees apart, drive if your man is in the car, drop an f bomb, or "jazz up hymns."* I have done unconventional things by my mother's standards -- all of the above minus the hymns (she totally deflated me on that one), had online boyfriends before it was common, met my ex-husband online ditto, for instance, plus a bunch of unbloggables. ;-)
But things that involve me, just me, all on my own -- scary. I have no one to guide me here, either, and no money to pay a professional to do so. If I could have five hours with a life coach -- that would be stupendous. Not happening.
But I need to find a way. Somehow. And get past the "people just don't do that" issue, finally. Or else I will end up having spent forty years of my life miserable, and for what?
*Amazingly, it seems my Baptist mother had never heard of gospel music.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Handspun
Here is about 235 yards of the blue-purple handspun I was talking about. I need to see if I can find out what the fiber is specifically (it's wool, but not sure what kind or if it's a blend). I am working on Christmas Item #2 and I may make another out of this stuff. We shall see....
I finally used my yardage meter!
I finally used my yardage meter!
Saturday, November 29, 2008
There Should be More Four-Day Weekends
This is great. It's only Saturday and I'm almost completely relaxed.
I grabbed a mocha on Thursday with a friend, who bought me some Peets Winter Solstice tea as a Thanksmas gift. Such a pretty tin, and I love the spicy black tea.
Gave up on Christmas item #2 and am thinking I maybe will never knit lace, even though I'd like to. I've cast on something I think {knock wood!!} will be quick and will work out OK. If it does, I may make another with the blue-purple handspun I mentioned the other day. I've also been spending too much time goofing off online when I should be knitting or doing a hundred other things. Like trying to figure out my sewing machine. I did a little bit earlier, then became discouraged and took a break. It's hard to see all the little bobbin and needle parts, and I am soooo not handy!
And now I'm off to the 5 PM quiet Mass, and back to knit and listen to a Prairie Home Companion. I know, the excitement is palpable!
I grabbed a mocha on Thursday with a friend, who bought me some Peets Winter Solstice tea as a Thanksmas gift. Such a pretty tin, and I love the spicy black tea.
Gave up on Christmas item #2 and am thinking I maybe will never knit lace, even though I'd like to. I've cast on something I think {knock wood!!} will be quick and will work out OK. If it does, I may make another with the blue-purple handspun I mentioned the other day. I've also been spending too much time goofing off online when I should be knitting or doing a hundred other things. Like trying to figure out my sewing machine. I did a little bit earlier, then became discouraged and took a break. It's hard to see all the little bobbin and needle parts, and I am soooo not handy!
And now I'm off to the 5 PM quiet Mass, and back to knit and listen to a Prairie Home Companion. I know, the excitement is palpable!
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Unbloggables
There are some. Simultaneously I have a couple of difficult situations going on -- nothing life-threatening, but one just makes me wistful and the other is requiring that I be dignified in an undignified position. I am channeling my inner Nineteenth Century British Heroine for that one. I do wear my hair up most of the time...
Here are some spinning pics. The first is my Mazurka and the second is what I'm spinning on it. (Yes, I do have the loose end of the fiber twisted around the tension key -- if I let it hang too low between spinning sessions a cat is likely to have at it.)
The closer-up pic I took of the yarn didn't turn out so well. We'll see how this goes when it all gets spun and plied. I have a pound of the Corriedale so I hope to have a bit of yarn at the end of it! I have not been overly successful at very-fine spinning, so I usually end up with one big hank of something and that's it. I have a pretty purple-blue yarn that falls into that category and I know not what it should grow up to be.... I do have some more of that, unspun, so I can add to that and then figure it out. I don't know if it's even enough for something like mitts, but maybe, especially if I fulled them.
I'm glad to be getting back into fiber. It's interesting and creative and comforting all at once!
Here are some spinning pics. The first is my Mazurka and the second is what I'm spinning on it. (Yes, I do have the loose end of the fiber twisted around the tension key -- if I let it hang too low between spinning sessions a cat is likely to have at it.)
The closer-up pic I took of the yarn didn't turn out so well. We'll see how this goes when it all gets spun and plied. I have a pound of the Corriedale so I hope to have a bit of yarn at the end of it! I have not been overly successful at very-fine spinning, so I usually end up with one big hank of something and that's it. I have a pretty purple-blue yarn that falls into that category and I know not what it should grow up to be.... I do have some more of that, unspun, so I can add to that and then figure it out. I don't know if it's even enough for something like mitts, but maybe, especially if I fulled them.
I'm glad to be getting back into fiber. It's interesting and creative and comforting all at once!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Tuesday in Thanksgiving Week
Things a bit iffy on the emotional front. I am going into autopilot mode, just not thinking, when I can help it.
On a happier note, I was reading some spinning stuff online and brought my Mazurka over to my spinning (knitting, reading) chair. Poor thing... when I do spin, I usually use my Lendrum ST. But I found some Corriedale and have been happily alternating spinning that up on the Mazurka with working on the second Christmas item (about which I must say: Lifelines are your friends!).
My Mazurka is unstained, with a clear finish, unlike the one in the photo, and my Lendrum isn't double treadle. (It was basically made for me by Mr. Lendrum, as neither my vendor nor Lendrum had STs in stock at the time and I didn't want the DT, so my vendor ordered one made specifically. I always thought it was neat that the company is small enough for that, and that this wheel was mine from its very beginnings.) Photos later, in any case. It's funny... so many spinners seem to have Lendrums but although many others have Kromskis, hardly anyone seems to have a Mazurka. But that was my first wheel; fell absolutely in love with it, and it's very reasonably priced.
Tomorrow after work I am going to
a) make myself a stiff drink
b) knit for awhile before drink hits
c) spin after that
d) watch Rachel Maddow
e) sleep
And I'm off to do "e" right now as well!
On a happier note, I was reading some spinning stuff online and brought my Mazurka over to my spinning (knitting, reading) chair. Poor thing... when I do spin, I usually use my Lendrum ST. But I found some Corriedale and have been happily alternating spinning that up on the Mazurka with working on the second Christmas item (about which I must say: Lifelines are your friends!).
My Mazurka is unstained, with a clear finish, unlike the one in the photo, and my Lendrum isn't double treadle. (It was basically made for me by Mr. Lendrum, as neither my vendor nor Lendrum had STs in stock at the time and I didn't want the DT, so my vendor ordered one made specifically. I always thought it was neat that the company is small enough for that, and that this wheel was mine from its very beginnings.) Photos later, in any case. It's funny... so many spinners seem to have Lendrums but although many others have Kromskis, hardly anyone seems to have a Mazurka. But that was my first wheel; fell absolutely in love with it, and it's very reasonably priced.
Tomorrow after work I am going to
a) make myself a stiff drink
b) knit for awhile before drink hits
c) spin after that
d) watch Rachel Maddow
e) sleep
And I'm off to do "e" right now as well!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
LotteryLotteryLotteryLottery
Can't say much, but although work has been tolerable of late, there are rumors and realities that could make me end up in the psych ward.
I've just had a nice stiff drink and feel somewhat better.
I'm trying to think of it as offering up my professional suffering. God knows I need to atone for all sorts of things. It's just that, sans job, I'd also be sans roof, so I have to pray it doesn't get that bad. Also, I've been kind of enjoying a break from the overwhelming anxiety that has plagued me off and on since 1991. It's baaaaaack.
Feh.
I've been fighting with Christmas Item #2. I changed from alpaca to linen (yes, really, and it will make sense when you get to see pictures). The linen likes to try to jump off the needles. And I've been having stitch count issues. Gahr!
Here, have some pictures. The first is of my cat very interested in a Ravelry thread. The second is the platter of nibbles I made for my friend who does the cat mani/pedis. A bowl of cornichons in the middle (mmm... still some in fridge) surrounded by naan topped with either a tomato/artichoke spread or garlic pesto, toasted pine nuts, and asiago. I guess it's not that pretty but I thought it quite delicious.
I've just had a nice stiff drink and feel somewhat better.
I'm trying to think of it as offering up my professional suffering. God knows I need to atone for all sorts of things. It's just that, sans job, I'd also be sans roof, so I have to pray it doesn't get that bad. Also, I've been kind of enjoying a break from the overwhelming anxiety that has plagued me off and on since 1991. It's baaaaaack.
Feh.
I've been fighting with Christmas Item #2. I changed from alpaca to linen (yes, really, and it will make sense when you get to see pictures). The linen likes to try to jump off the needles. And I've been having stitch count issues. Gahr!
Here, have some pictures. The first is of my cat very interested in a Ravelry thread. The second is the platter of nibbles I made for my friend who does the cat mani/pedis. A bowl of cornichons in the middle (mmm... still some in fridge) surrounded by naan topped with either a tomato/artichoke spread or garlic pesto, toasted pine nuts, and asiago. I guess it's not that pretty but I thought it quite delicious.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Big Deal to Me
I am knitting something vaguely lacy. OK, it's actual lace, but very simple. AND I AM NOT SCREWING IT UP. I did make one mistake, but I fixed it and didn't have to rip. There's a little strand of yarn that's going over something it shouldn't be, but it's one strand in a whole item, and there's no hole or laddering and I'm FINE with that!
Just back from Mass (music made my skin hurt; I am going to the 5 PM Saturday Mass after next week when I'm a lector on Sunday; 5 PM music is not much better but is at least choirless and less obtrusive) and Trader Joe's. A friend is coming over to give the kitties a mani/pedi Tuesday and I'm feeding him. I'm not really cooking; it's more a Parisian-style buy-it-from-the-charcuterie type of mini-meal, consisting of some toasted naan with a selection of TJ's spreads (a bruschetta spread, an artichoke spread, and another that is escaping me and I'm loo lazy to get up to look at), some cornichons, and some baklava for sweetness. I also didn't make the Riesling from scratch. ;-) I should run get some cheese to shave on top of the naan, now I think of it. Oops.
I feel slightly guilty for the pre-made-ness of it all, but it's not like I'm ordering Domino's or bringing home KFC. (Both of which I quite happily eat, though.) I'm at least making bottom-line decisions and assembling (well, not the baklava). I have a feeling this probably doesn't need real justification, though, eh?
Just back from Mass (music made my skin hurt; I am going to the 5 PM Saturday Mass after next week when I'm a lector on Sunday; 5 PM music is not much better but is at least choirless and less obtrusive) and Trader Joe's. A friend is coming over to give the kitties a mani/pedi Tuesday and I'm feeding him. I'm not really cooking; it's more a Parisian-style buy-it-from-the-charcuterie type of mini-meal, consisting of some toasted naan with a selection of TJ's spreads (a bruschetta spread, an artichoke spread, and another that is escaping me and I'm loo lazy to get up to look at), some cornichons, and some baklava for sweetness. I also didn't make the Riesling from scratch. ;-) I should run get some cheese to shave on top of the naan, now I think of it. Oops.
I feel slightly guilty for the pre-made-ness of it all, but it's not like I'm ordering Domino's or bringing home KFC. (Both of which I quite happily eat, though.) I'm at least making bottom-line decisions and assembling (well, not the baklava). I have a feeling this probably doesn't need real justification, though, eh?
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Stuff
Home with a sore throat today. :-( I want to nip it in the bud before it becomes the annual Voice Loss. Bah.
I finished one of my two Christmas knitting items last night -- yeah! Can't picture, though it is on Ravelry if you're over there. I know it looks so easy (and it was) but it's definitely a bang-for-your-effort-buck item. It doesn't photograph all that stunningly, but it's very pretty in person, and has a lovely squishiness to it.
Onto finishing item 2, which I really need to get booking on.
I had a parish council meeting last night, which was interesting on many levels. (On a superficial level, I've decided when I have to bring refreshments, it's going to be a loaf of challah, some cheese, and some brownies from the King Arthur flour package.) One thing I have been struggling with at my parish is the mediocre liturgy. It's not heretical, it's not horrific, there is nothing shocking going on there. But if this were an Episcopal Church, it would be waaaaaaaaaaaay low church, and I am such a high-church person. On top of that, our music is so bad I want to cry (although there are no tambourines a la the Cathedral!). All very 70s & 80s vapidity in the hymn and Mass setting department. I confess my lack of charity -- and I will say that some things we sing would be fine at a Cursillo, a retreat, at a church camp or BBQ. But not for Mass!
Yet, I feel a responsibility. I have until the summer of 2011 to serve out my term. My parish is going through a financial rough spot, and losing parishioners would only make it worse. It's possible there would be a new choir director someday with better music, or the pastor we receive when this one retires may be more liturgically conservative.
I don't know quite what to do. For now I'm trying to think of it the same way St. Therese of Lisieux dealt with the nearby nun who clicked her rosary during prayer. I'm going to make the bad music and indifferent liturgy part of my prayer, and also part of my penance. Because Lord knows I have seven zillion things to do penance for.
It's comforting that there are many very nice people in this parish, and that even if the Mass is not so fab, it's done in an arching, beautiful, very traditional church, not someplace that looks like a gym or auditorium.
Kvetch, kvetch. Standard disclaimer: I know those who like these kinds of Masses are almost certainly better people, better Christians, better Catholics, than I am.
Off to knit and stop being so curmudgeonly!
I finished one of my two Christmas knitting items last night -- yeah! Can't picture, though it is on Ravelry if you're over there. I know it looks so easy (and it was) but it's definitely a bang-for-your-effort-buck item. It doesn't photograph all that stunningly, but it's very pretty in person, and has a lovely squishiness to it.
Onto finishing item 2, which I really need to get booking on.
I had a parish council meeting last night, which was interesting on many levels. (On a superficial level, I've decided when I have to bring refreshments, it's going to be a loaf of challah, some cheese, and some brownies from the King Arthur flour package.) One thing I have been struggling with at my parish is the mediocre liturgy. It's not heretical, it's not horrific, there is nothing shocking going on there. But if this were an Episcopal Church, it would be waaaaaaaaaaaay low church, and I am such a high-church person. On top of that, our music is so bad I want to cry (although there are no tambourines a la the Cathedral!). All very 70s & 80s vapidity in the hymn and Mass setting department. I confess my lack of charity -- and I will say that some things we sing would be fine at a Cursillo, a retreat, at a church camp or BBQ. But not for Mass!
Yet, I feel a responsibility. I have until the summer of 2011 to serve out my term. My parish is going through a financial rough spot, and losing parishioners would only make it worse. It's possible there would be a new choir director someday with better music, or the pastor we receive when this one retires may be more liturgically conservative.
I don't know quite what to do. For now I'm trying to think of it the same way St. Therese of Lisieux dealt with the nearby nun who clicked her rosary during prayer. I'm going to make the bad music and indifferent liturgy part of my prayer, and also part of my penance. Because Lord knows I have seven zillion things to do penance for.
It's comforting that there are many very nice people in this parish, and that even if the Mass is not so fab, it's done in an arching, beautiful, very traditional church, not someplace that looks like a gym or auditorium.
Kvetch, kvetch. Standard disclaimer: I know those who like these kinds of Masses are almost certainly better people, better Christians, better Catholics, than I am.
Off to knit and stop being so curmudgeonly!
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Misplaced Guilt
I always feel guilty when I don't answer the phone.
Maybe it's because I have spent much of my life waiting for the phone to ring/waiting for the mail carrier to arrive/checking my email, but only recently have I decided that if I don't feel like talking, I don't have to pick the phone up. If it's an emergency, they will leave a message and I will call them back.
Since I spend all my working hours in a loud office and with frequent calls from the public (some of which astound me), sometimes when 4:30 rolls around, I don't want to see or hear another human being. I'm an introvert who craves solitude and quiet, and 40 hours a week is spent in an environment that's almost the complete antithesis of that. If my job were 100% customer service it would be worse, but it's bad enough.
This weekend I am knitting, rearranging cupboards, reading Ravelry forums, planning on baking tomorrow, and enjoying peace and quiet. But I feel guilty for not picking up when the phone rings, even though intellectually I know there's no requirement to answer.
Maybe it's because I have spent much of my life waiting for the phone to ring/waiting for the mail carrier to arrive/checking my email, but only recently have I decided that if I don't feel like talking, I don't have to pick the phone up. If it's an emergency, they will leave a message and I will call them back.
Since I spend all my working hours in a loud office and with frequent calls from the public (some of which astound me), sometimes when 4:30 rolls around, I don't want to see or hear another human being. I'm an introvert who craves solitude and quiet, and 40 hours a week is spent in an environment that's almost the complete antithesis of that. If my job were 100% customer service it would be worse, but it's bad enough.
This weekend I am knitting, rearranging cupboards, reading Ravelry forums, planning on baking tomorrow, and enjoying peace and quiet. But I feel guilty for not picking up when the phone rings, even though intellectually I know there's no requirement to answer.
Friday, November 7, 2008
What's a Bummer
...is that I can only knit so much before my hands get tired. Even though I've had carpal tunnel surgery on my right hand, it still gets painful and tingly sometimes, and though I've had trigger-finger surgery on both my thumbs, my left one was getting stiff and cranky again recently.
Canna be havin' that.
I use my left hand at work for my mouse and my 10-key, and I do tend to use my left hand for a lot of things. I can't use my laptop pad-thing with my left hand for some reason, though, or not very well, and I knit English, which tends to use more right-hand power. (I knit with one color in each hand when I do stranded knitting, and I do notice that Continental is slightly easier on my hand, but it doesn't feel as natural to me at all.)
And besides all that... my nose is cold!
Canna be havin' that.
I use my left hand at work for my mouse and my 10-key, and I do tend to use my left hand for a lot of things. I can't use my laptop pad-thing with my left hand for some reason, though, or not very well, and I knit English, which tends to use more right-hand power. (I knit with one color in each hand when I do stranded knitting, and I do notice that Continental is slightly easier on my hand, but it doesn't feel as natural to me at all.)
And besides all that... my nose is cold!
Small Victories
One of which was getting to Friday! :-D
I was working on one of my Christmas items and I knit a knot (I know...). Then I decided to tink it back and cut it out, but when I came to that stitch it got all screwed up. I'm so far along that my heart fell to think of ripping, since usually I can't fix things very well. But I tinked slowly back a row and a half, and -- it worked!
Whew.
I hit Trader Joe's on the way home. They have sacks of individually wrapped chicken breasts now. I bought a bag and put it in the freezer. I was musing on it in line -- are we really so much busier nowadays, that such things are needed? Do I, a single urban woman, have less time than an old-fashioned farm housewife with a passel of children? Probably not, although some of her time would have been apportioned strictly to the feeding of said passel. But it is harder, in a way, to feed just one person well. Not more expensive, of course, but more difficult to make sure things don't go bad, to find recipes that either feed just one or will work for leftovers, and to get the impetus to mess up a bunch of pots and pans just for me! (Nor do I have any live-in sous chefs or dishwashers.)
Hence, individually wrapped chicken breasts.
The erstwhile friend to whom I emailed the apology has not said a word nor acted any differently when our paths have crossed -- I am still completely invisible. This person is not one I would have ever pegged for a drama queen, for someone who would carry a grudge, or anything like that. And to act this way and not even tell me what I've done... it's really amazing to me. I know people are like that; I just really didn't think they were -- they've always seemed calm and sensible and reasonable. I have to admit I'm deeply hurt and saddened by it, but I've tried, and there's obviously nothing I can do.
I hate this sort of thing.
Alas.
So, anyway -- I turned the heat on for the first time on Wednesday morning, and I might have to turn it on a bit tonight. But first, I'm going to try socks and a shawl. I hate paying PG&E! I should go wrap up and get back to the knitting. This weekend I want to try to rearrange my kitchen cupboards, knit like a mad thing, maybe make some jam, and make another batch of challah. Mmm. Bread....
I was working on one of my Christmas items and I knit a knot (I know...). Then I decided to tink it back and cut it out, but when I came to that stitch it got all screwed up. I'm so far along that my heart fell to think of ripping, since usually I can't fix things very well. But I tinked slowly back a row and a half, and -- it worked!
Whew.
I hit Trader Joe's on the way home. They have sacks of individually wrapped chicken breasts now. I bought a bag and put it in the freezer. I was musing on it in line -- are we really so much busier nowadays, that such things are needed? Do I, a single urban woman, have less time than an old-fashioned farm housewife with a passel of children? Probably not, although some of her time would have been apportioned strictly to the feeding of said passel. But it is harder, in a way, to feed just one person well. Not more expensive, of course, but more difficult to make sure things don't go bad, to find recipes that either feed just one or will work for leftovers, and to get the impetus to mess up a bunch of pots and pans just for me! (Nor do I have any live-in sous chefs or dishwashers.)
Hence, individually wrapped chicken breasts.
The erstwhile friend to whom I emailed the apology has not said a word nor acted any differently when our paths have crossed -- I am still completely invisible. This person is not one I would have ever pegged for a drama queen, for someone who would carry a grudge, or anything like that. And to act this way and not even tell me what I've done... it's really amazing to me. I know people are like that; I just really didn't think they were -- they've always seemed calm and sensible and reasonable. I have to admit I'm deeply hurt and saddened by it, but I've tried, and there's obviously nothing I can do.
I hate this sort of thing.
Alas.
So, anyway -- I turned the heat on for the first time on Wednesday morning, and I might have to turn it on a bit tonight. But first, I'm going to try socks and a shawl. I hate paying PG&E! I should go wrap up and get back to the knitting. This weekend I want to try to rearrange my kitchen cupboards, knit like a mad thing, maybe make some jam, and make another batch of challah. Mmm. Bread....
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Never Apply This Product in a Moving Vehicle
...says the packaging on my new liquid eyeliner.
Oooooooookay. Thanks for the tip.
Oooooooookay. Thanks for the tip.
OH, THANK GOD
Sat with a drink and my knitting and gritted teeth and an upset stomach, which slowly turned into butterflies, which culminated in tears and a very loud whoop to go with the shrieking in my neighborhood.
I haven't been happy about a presidential election since before I was married, and I've been divorced for four years.
I also dropped a stitch, but managed to unearth a skinny crochet hook and, I think, save it unobtrusively. Whew.
Now I am doing the dishes and having a bath. I'm taking tomorrow morning off... I guess I don't have to now, since I don't need to stay up late for returns or drink myself into a consolation stupor. But what's not to like about getting up at 10:30 instead of 6:40?
I haven't been happy about a presidential election since before I was married, and I've been divorced for four years.
I also dropped a stitch, but managed to unearth a skinny crochet hook and, I think, save it unobtrusively. Whew.
Now I am doing the dishes and having a bath. I'm taking tomorrow morning off... I guess I don't have to now, since I don't need to stay up late for returns or drink myself into a consolation stupor. But what's not to like about getting up at 10:30 instead of 6:40?
Monday, November 3, 2008
Waiting for It to Be Over
I cannot wait until this election is over. It looks good, but... argh! I will crash into such despair tomorrow night if it all goes pear-shaped. I'm glad I'm on the West Coast so by the time I leave work at 4:30, we'll already have some idea of things.
Talked to a relative whose husband is a (vocal) Republican. Well, he's vocal about everything, so this is not a surprise. While I have friends who are Republican and I've even dated a couple, they're not of the passionate/in your face/shouting at the TV persuasion, and I cannot imagine being married to someone who was. Nor can I imagine why someone who was would want to be married to a Democrat... if nothing else, my ex-husband and I voted alike. Well, except for the time that he voted for this sad outsider for mayor, because he didn't want the guy's family to be the only people who voted for him. That was sweet. He was a bit more on the conservative Democrat side when we met, but by the time we split up we were on the same political wavelength (at least I did this service for the country!). I can't imagine the tension of living with someone who was not only at the other end of the political spectrum, but wild about it. She said they don't ever talk politics in their house, which seems... I don't know. Hiding your true feelings at work or someplace like that is one thing, but in your own home? It would be hard for me.
In any case, I'm a bit of a nervous wreck and just can't wait til we know, one way or the other.
I've been knitting like crazy (for me) but feel like I'll never finish in time for Christmas. Man, I wish I knit faster! Those folks who, three weeks before Rhinebeck, say, "Hmm, think I'll knit myself a cardigan to wear there," are beyond my comprehension. To me, that's akin to saying, "I think I will build a house from the cellar up with only my hands and a hammer and finish before Thanksgiving."
The friend to whom I sent the exploratory email/apology has not acknowledged it in any way. I do check my email more frequently than most people I know, and I also said in the email that I didn't expect a response. I may never know if the email got read; I may never know what I (completely inadvertantly) did. Alas.
Going to retire to the bath, have some hot vanilla milk and then ensconce myself in bed with said knitting. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.
Talked to a relative whose husband is a (vocal) Republican. Well, he's vocal about everything, so this is not a surprise. While I have friends who are Republican and I've even dated a couple, they're not of the passionate/in your face/shouting at the TV persuasion, and I cannot imagine being married to someone who was. Nor can I imagine why someone who was would want to be married to a Democrat... if nothing else, my ex-husband and I voted alike. Well, except for the time that he voted for this sad outsider for mayor, because he didn't want the guy's family to be the only people who voted for him. That was sweet. He was a bit more on the conservative Democrat side when we met, but by the time we split up we were on the same political wavelength (at least I did this service for the country!). I can't imagine the tension of living with someone who was not only at the other end of the political spectrum, but wild about it. She said they don't ever talk politics in their house, which seems... I don't know. Hiding your true feelings at work or someplace like that is one thing, but in your own home? It would be hard for me.
In any case, I'm a bit of a nervous wreck and just can't wait til we know, one way or the other.
I've been knitting like crazy (for me) but feel like I'll never finish in time for Christmas. Man, I wish I knit faster! Those folks who, three weeks before Rhinebeck, say, "Hmm, think I'll knit myself a cardigan to wear there," are beyond my comprehension. To me, that's akin to saying, "I think I will build a house from the cellar up with only my hands and a hammer and finish before Thanksgiving."
The friend to whom I sent the exploratory email/apology has not acknowledged it in any way. I do check my email more frequently than most people I know, and I also said in the email that I didn't expect a response. I may never know if the email got read; I may never know what I (completely inadvertantly) did. Alas.
Going to retire to the bath, have some hot vanilla milk and then ensconce myself in bed with said knitting. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Courtesy of the Secrets of Jesuit Breadmaking
Small oven = half baking sheets= squished challah.
Maybe should have left it in a little while longer, for browner top, but:
I devoured several large hunks almost before it was handle-able.Easy recipe! Highly recommend Br. Rick Curry's book.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
One Down, Two to Go
I finished the cabled coffee cuffs for my co-workers. (Say that five times fast.) I still have Item A and Item B for family to work on; I'm thinking of the cuffs as one knitting project. They're blocking right now, giving the cats something interesting to crawl on (the blocking board) and to sniff (the cuffs).
I sent an exploratory email to a friend who seems to have inexplicably stopped speaking to me. Honestly I don't know what I did, and I'm not expecting a response, but I feel a sense of relief in having finally said something.
It poured with rain earlier today, which was nice. I ran some errands, which rinsed the car off quite nicely.
Tomorrow afternoon I'm going to try my hand at making challah; a simple-sounding recipe from my Jesuit breadmaking book. I also need to make the frosting for the espresso brownies I'm taking to a friend's on election night (will make the brownies Monday night). I am so nervous about the election. I know if I were a Republican I'd be depressed and hopeless right now, so since I'm not one I take heart in that. But anything can (and sometimes does) happen, and it could all go to hell in a handbasket in nothing flat. I will just be so glad when it's over.
Now I need to go fetch the laundry I think someone just took out of the dryer, and get cracking on the rest of the Christmas knitting.
I sent an exploratory email to a friend who seems to have inexplicably stopped speaking to me. Honestly I don't know what I did, and I'm not expecting a response, but I feel a sense of relief in having finally said something.
It poured with rain earlier today, which was nice. I ran some errands, which rinsed the car off quite nicely.
Tomorrow afternoon I'm going to try my hand at making challah; a simple-sounding recipe from my Jesuit breadmaking book. I also need to make the frosting for the espresso brownies I'm taking to a friend's on election night (will make the brownies Monday night). I am so nervous about the election. I know if I were a Republican I'd be depressed and hopeless right now, so since I'm not one I take heart in that. But anything can (and sometimes does) happen, and it could all go to hell in a handbasket in nothing flat. I will just be so glad when it's over.
Now I need to go fetch the laundry I think someone just took out of the dryer, and get cracking on the rest of the Christmas knitting.
Friday, October 31, 2008
It's Raining
And I love it. :-)
Oddly, rain cheers me up. It's such a soothing sound, and it's so cozy to be inside with the cats listening to it. It's not raining hard, unfortunately, but still.
Must get back to knitting. Tomorrow is November!
Oddly, rain cheers me up. It's such a soothing sound, and it's so cozy to be inside with the cats listening to it. It's not raining hard, unfortunately, but still.
Must get back to knitting. Tomorrow is November!
Thursday, October 30, 2008
It Does Occur to Me
That I'm still doing what my mom always said I was growing up: Wishing my life away. And now that I'm in my 40s, that's really kind of scary. I play mind games with myself to psych myself through the week to the weekend -- even though as I say, it's not my job that's depressing me, it's still hard to keep going through endless days and long weeks. And there's always some mythical time in the future when I will be content, not just in the small "isn't JD cute?" tv-watching way, or the "I finished something!" knitting way, or the "ah, it's 11:30 on a Saturday and I'm just waking up!" way, but in a meaningful way.
If I were deeply religious I might be more content -- likely, I think. Some people probably think I am, just because I actually go to Mass, but I'm not an emotionally religious person. I've talked to people who cry at Mass or in prayer. I only cry when I'm praying if I'm praying about something that would make me cry anyway, and I cried once at Mass -- a 10 PM Newman Hall Mass I went to with a boyfriend on our way home from an emotional camping trip. Not exactly spiritual fervor.
But I digress.
The point is that I'm middle-aged and still wishing my life away. I'm going to be 70, in the home, and still waiting for something.
If I were deeply religious I might be more content -- likely, I think. Some people probably think I am, just because I actually go to Mass, but I'm not an emotionally religious person. I've talked to people who cry at Mass or in prayer. I only cry when I'm praying if I'm praying about something that would make me cry anyway, and I cried once at Mass -- a 10 PM Newman Hall Mass I went to with a boyfriend on our way home from an emotional camping trip. Not exactly spiritual fervor.
But I digress.
The point is that I'm middle-aged and still wishing my life away. I'm going to be 70, in the home, and still waiting for something.
Just Down
No particular reason. I have no patience at work (and work requires a bucketful). I come home, eat, knit, watch Scrubs re-runs on Comedy Central, sometimes watch last night's Daily Show afterwards (yes, I do have crushes on both Zach Braff and Jon Stewart, why?), have a bath, cuddle the cats and go to bed.
And then I get up in the dark and do it all over again.
At least we fall back this weekend and I will be getting up when it's freaking light out. I hate to pry myself out of bed under the most ideal circs, so doing it in the cold and dark is dreary.
If I haven't said it here before I've said it elsewhere many times -- I'm a college-educated middle-class white woman in America, and therefore I have no legitimate reason to bitch. I live in a nice blue state in a decent apartment. Also, in this economy, just having a job is something to be thankful for, even if (sing it with me) I'm meant to be a housewife. This is one of those times when my parents' Depression-era "any job is a good job; shut up and suffer quietly like everyone else" attitude is actually quite apt.
But it's not actually my job that's depressing me; I think it's the depression that's exacerbating my innate impatience.
And I'm not really sure what the source of my current malaise is. Nothing has changed since a few weeks ago when I was telling a quasi-ex that I was quite happy to be on my own, having a calm life with lots of quiet time. And it's true... I like my Comedy Central knitting evenings. Hmm.
Well, the tv-yarn-bath portions of my evening are complete, and I have a cat smushed up against me, so I think it's time for the sleeping part. Only one more day to get through until I can sleep in...
And then I get up in the dark and do it all over again.
At least we fall back this weekend and I will be getting up when it's freaking light out. I hate to pry myself out of bed under the most ideal circs, so doing it in the cold and dark is dreary.
If I haven't said it here before I've said it elsewhere many times -- I'm a college-educated middle-class white woman in America, and therefore I have no legitimate reason to bitch. I live in a nice blue state in a decent apartment. Also, in this economy, just having a job is something to be thankful for, even if (sing it with me) I'm meant to be a housewife. This is one of those times when my parents' Depression-era "any job is a good job; shut up and suffer quietly like everyone else" attitude is actually quite apt.
But it's not actually my job that's depressing me; I think it's the depression that's exacerbating my innate impatience.
And I'm not really sure what the source of my current malaise is. Nothing has changed since a few weeks ago when I was telling a quasi-ex that I was quite happy to be on my own, having a calm life with lots of quiet time. And it's true... I like my Comedy Central knitting evenings. Hmm.
Well, the tv-yarn-bath portions of my evening are complete, and I have a cat smushed up against me, so I think it's time for the sleeping part. Only one more day to get through until I can sleep in...
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Ugh
Two more days til the weekend.
I know most people don't like their jobs. I know most people live for the weekends. But man, I am such a bad worker bee. In the back of my head I am constantly daydreaming about being a housewife.
Yeah, this is just me repeating myself: Sleeping on schedule one's body wants, taking care of home, cooking, other domestic duties, no boss, no time clock, no talking to the public, no possibility of getting in trouble. Endless possibilities to sneak in reading.
There, the usual litany, she is done.
I've been knitting and ripping, knitting and ripping, ad nauseum. One of Family Items, I've just started thinking of the k/r, k/r as swatching. :-) She's getting it in the size/gauge it is now, though, damnit!
This Saturday I have a parish council retreat. I am trying to think of a way to stick up for the introverts without seeming crazy, as we discuss attracting and keeping parishioners. I know that if some sort of "greeter" had been in my face my first Sunday there, I would have gone to Mass and never come back. I think any sort of "hospitality ministry" needs to have training in Discerning Body Language. Hey -- if they're backing away, looking sideways, not smiling broadly and chatting with you, let 'em go. I know I'm way on one end of the intro-/extroverted spectrum, and the hail-fellow-well-met stuff that gives me panic attacks is one of the reasons megachurches do so well. But we're Catholic -- universal, eh? Let the introverts be! :-)
Especially when those introverts have to go to work in the morning and deal with people all day long.... :-P
I know most people don't like their jobs. I know most people live for the weekends. But man, I am such a bad worker bee. In the back of my head I am constantly daydreaming about being a housewife.
Yeah, this is just me repeating myself: Sleeping on schedule one's body wants, taking care of home, cooking, other domestic duties, no boss, no time clock, no talking to the public, no possibility of getting in trouble. Endless possibilities to sneak in reading.
There, the usual litany, she is done.
I've been knitting and ripping, knitting and ripping, ad nauseum. One of Family Items, I've just started thinking of the k/r, k/r as swatching. :-) She's getting it in the size/gauge it is now, though, damnit!
This Saturday I have a parish council retreat. I am trying to think of a way to stick up for the introverts without seeming crazy, as we discuss attracting and keeping parishioners. I know that if some sort of "greeter" had been in my face my first Sunday there, I would have gone to Mass and never come back. I think any sort of "hospitality ministry" needs to have training in Discerning Body Language. Hey -- if they're backing away, looking sideways, not smiling broadly and chatting with you, let 'em go. I know I'm way on one end of the intro-/extroverted spectrum, and the hail-fellow-well-met stuff that gives me panic attacks is one of the reasons megachurches do so well. But we're Catholic -- universal, eh? Let the introverts be! :-)
Especially when those introverts have to go to work in the morning and deal with people all day long.... :-P
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Hmm.
You Are a Raccoon |
 You are very curious. Your curiosity has led you to learn a lot about the world... including some things you rather not know. You are also very sneaky. You can blend in when you need to, and no one really knows what you are up to. At times, you can be morally dubious. You're willing to do a lot to get ahead, even if it means stepping on other people's toes. You are generally passive and tend to work behind the scenes. But if someone challenges you, you get downright nasty! |
Monday, October 13, 2008
Chugging Along
Ah, another Monday down.
It's reassuring that there are indeed a finite number of Mondays in one's work life.
I am keeping, more or less, to my Christmas knitting schedule. I've worked on the family items tonight while listening to Fr. Corapi (as is usual, more orthodox than I, but I love him -- though he doesn't sound like his photo!). He's funny in a wryly sarcastic way I totally get on board with, he's self-deprecating, and very interesting. I love his ultra-emphatic style, and even where I disagree with him, I appreciate him.
I feel similarly about Fr. Groeschel, though his presentation is so different. He's so quiet and gentle and soft-spoken, and again more orthodox than I, but I love listening to him. He radiates the kind of peace and joy combined with intelligence that I have so often admired in religious.
Anyway, back to the knitting. The family items continue. I need to go do my requisite two repeats on the red Irish Hiking Scarf, and I need to work on the little things for my work group. They shouldn't take too long and I might just try to churn them out in a weekend, although pacing myself does seem to be the key to avoiding screwups of massive proportions.
Fall is gloriously here. I do get tired of people who say California has no seasons -- of course it does, and you might want to check in with places like Redding* and Sonora**, which go into triple digits in the summer and have snow in the winter. But even in coastal California, all you need are your basic senses to tell the seasons.
Now, the light is slanted low during the day, much more golden than in other seasons. There is a warmth in the air that is also different -- it's definitely not cool yet (consistently), but it's almost as if you can feel the dying embers, the last burst of heat for the year. It's a cozier warmth than the heat of August... which I realize is much more moderate than in many places, but even so.
And there's something else... Perhaps you have to be from here, or have lived here for years, to feel it. It's a sort of deep-seated, quietly moving nostalgia that the slanting light and departing warmth instill in me. I love the fall.
* The Sundial Bridge, pictured on this page, is very cool.
** I went to Sonora the first weekend my ex-husband lived in CA, as well as on our honeymoon, and therefore I have some bittersweet memories of the place. But it's also the first place I ever saw snow, when I was ten.
It's reassuring that there are indeed a finite number of Mondays in one's work life.
I am keeping, more or less, to my Christmas knitting schedule. I've worked on the family items tonight while listening to Fr. Corapi (as is usual, more orthodox than I, but I love him -- though he doesn't sound like his photo!). He's funny in a wryly sarcastic way I totally get on board with, he's self-deprecating, and very interesting. I love his ultra-emphatic style, and even where I disagree with him, I appreciate him.
I feel similarly about Fr. Groeschel, though his presentation is so different. He's so quiet and gentle and soft-spoken, and again more orthodox than I, but I love listening to him. He radiates the kind of peace and joy combined with intelligence that I have so often admired in religious.
Anyway, back to the knitting. The family items continue. I need to go do my requisite two repeats on the red Irish Hiking Scarf, and I need to work on the little things for my work group. They shouldn't take too long and I might just try to churn them out in a weekend, although pacing myself does seem to be the key to avoiding screwups of massive proportions.
Fall is gloriously here. I do get tired of people who say California has no seasons -- of course it does, and you might want to check in with places like Redding* and Sonora**, which go into triple digits in the summer and have snow in the winter. But even in coastal California, all you need are your basic senses to tell the seasons.
Now, the light is slanted low during the day, much more golden than in other seasons. There is a warmth in the air that is also different -- it's definitely not cool yet (consistently), but it's almost as if you can feel the dying embers, the last burst of heat for the year. It's a cozier warmth than the heat of August... which I realize is much more moderate than in many places, but even so.
And there's something else... Perhaps you have to be from here, or have lived here for years, to feel it. It's a sort of deep-seated, quietly moving nostalgia that the slanting light and departing warmth instill in me. I love the fall.
* The Sundial Bridge, pictured on this page, is very cool.
** I went to Sonora the first weekend my ex-husband lived in CA, as well as on our honeymoon, and therefore I have some bittersweet memories of the place. But it's also the first place I ever saw snow, when I was ten.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Score!
I went shopping after work and got three pairs of slacks, two skirts, and two pairs of underwear for $126 altogether. Woot!
I'm trying to have a more tailored work look, for lack of a better word. Just a little more understated and polished, especially for the winter. I tend to wear bright skirts and backless shoes to work, and while that's fine in the summer it seems a little odd in the cooler weather, I think, even here. Of course, being a large-chested zaftig person, I can't do tailored-tailored, but I can at least wear some nice black or pinstriped pants to work!
Anyway, that was fun.
I changed the yarn on one of Christmas projects and am changing the other one altogether. Well, same yarn, different pattern, for that one. I'm making the Irish Hiking Scarf for a non-family-member, but I am limiting myself to two repeats a day, so I don't go into Spaceout Mode and screw it up. It's in bright red, which is not a color I own or ever even consider wearing, but is fun to work with for someone else. I love to cable. It gives you such bang for your buck -- it looks nice and if you don't know how to do it, you think it's difficult, but it's easier than just about anything else knittingwise, as far as I'm concerned. At least, I think it's fun (as long as I have straight wooden cable needles and not those U-shaped metal ones) and somehow the turning row helps me keep my place.
Better end my knitting break here. I have to finish the second daily repeat on the red scarf and get to work re-starting the two family items. Yesterday one of my cats was determined to help me knit -- and then to keep me from knitting, by curling up in my lap and sleeping, twisting herself into many cute snoozing poses and purring so I couldn't bear to move her. At the moment she's curled up like a Danish on a chair, and my other cat never jumps on me, so I should make a move for it while I can!
I'm trying to have a more tailored work look, for lack of a better word. Just a little more understated and polished, especially for the winter. I tend to wear bright skirts and backless shoes to work, and while that's fine in the summer it seems a little odd in the cooler weather, I think, even here. Of course, being a large-chested zaftig person, I can't do tailored-tailored, but I can at least wear some nice black or pinstriped pants to work!
Anyway, that was fun.
I changed the yarn on one of Christmas projects and am changing the other one altogether. Well, same yarn, different pattern, for that one. I'm making the Irish Hiking Scarf for a non-family-member, but I am limiting myself to two repeats a day, so I don't go into Spaceout Mode and screw it up. It's in bright red, which is not a color I own or ever even consider wearing, but is fun to work with for someone else. I love to cable. It gives you such bang for your buck -- it looks nice and if you don't know how to do it, you think it's difficult, but it's easier than just about anything else knittingwise, as far as I'm concerned. At least, I think it's fun (as long as I have straight wooden cable needles and not those U-shaped metal ones) and somehow the turning row helps me keep my place.
Better end my knitting break here. I have to finish the second daily repeat on the red scarf and get to work re-starting the two family items. Yesterday one of my cats was determined to help me knit -- and then to keep me from knitting, by curling up in my lap and sleeping, twisting herself into many cute snoozing poses and purring so I couldn't bear to move her. At the moment she's curled up like a Danish on a chair, and my other cat never jumps on me, so I should make a move for it while I can!
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Speaking of Notre Dame
Next time I go to the 5 PM Vigil Mass, I'm going to watch the Sunday night Mass from Notre Dame online.
I love the Internet.
I love the Internet.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Apple Cake Possibilities
Hmm. I don't normally like apple desserts, except for tarte tatin (and I even have a Le Creuset tarte tatin pan, courtesy of my oldest friend). (And until I linked to it, I had no idea how freaking expensive it was. Oy. I need to make a hell of a lot more tarte tatins, and take him a few as well.)
But that apple cake looks tarte tatin-like, and quite yummy.
While I eat apples out of hand all the time, usually I don't like their consistency in desserts. I decided while in Paris seven years ago to try it for dessert one night, just because I was, well, in Paris. The sauteeing of the apples softened them to a luscious consistency, and though my efforts are never as pretty, they succeed tastewise. (If you manage not to burn the apples, you pretty much can't screw it up.) I'm thinking I could probably manage this.
I do wonder how she flipped it out of and back into her cast-iron pan and kept it all of a piece!
I need to use my cast iron more often. I have my mom's deep covered skillet, another skillet I may have bought, and a ridged grill pan (same as this one except, obviously, ridged). The first two aren't enameled; all of them could give you a concussion if you snuck up on me in my kitchen while I had one in hand.
Man, with these expensive French pans and my "oh, while I was in Paris" comment I sound well-to-do, pretentious, or both. I should say that was my last trip to Europe and I've only ever been to the UK otherwise. (My two other forays out of the US were one night in Windsor, Ontario and a couple of day trips over the Texas/Mexico border.) And yeah, for a time most of my disposable income went into cookware. However, I also have a bunch of pretty-darn-good pans with copper bottoms I got at Mervyn's awhile back, so there you go.
Y'know, along with wondering what the role of single, childless women is in the Church, I wonder to whom single, childless women should leave their extensive cookware collection in their wills. No one else in my family likes to cook much.
ANYway, I digress. (No, really?) I'm back to thinking about apple cake. Mmm. Perhaps this will go onto the agenda of one of my Sunday baking sessions.
But that apple cake looks tarte tatin-like, and quite yummy.
While I eat apples out of hand all the time, usually I don't like their consistency in desserts. I decided while in Paris seven years ago to try it for dessert one night, just because I was, well, in Paris. The sauteeing of the apples softened them to a luscious consistency, and though my efforts are never as pretty, they succeed tastewise. (If you manage not to burn the apples, you pretty much can't screw it up.) I'm thinking I could probably manage this.
I do wonder how she flipped it out of and back into her cast-iron pan and kept it all of a piece!
I need to use my cast iron more often. I have my mom's deep covered skillet, another skillet I may have bought, and a ridged grill pan (same as this one except, obviously, ridged). The first two aren't enameled; all of them could give you a concussion if you snuck up on me in my kitchen while I had one in hand.
Man, with these expensive French pans and my "oh, while I was in Paris" comment I sound well-to-do, pretentious, or both. I should say that was my last trip to Europe and I've only ever been to the UK otherwise. (My two other forays out of the US were one night in Windsor, Ontario and a couple of day trips over the Texas/Mexico border.) And yeah, for a time most of my disposable income went into cookware. However, I also have a bunch of pretty-darn-good pans with copper bottoms I got at Mervyn's awhile back, so there you go.
Y'know, along with wondering what the role of single, childless women is in the Church, I wonder to whom single, childless women should leave their extensive cookware collection in their wills. No one else in my family likes to cook much.
ANYway, I digress. (No, really?) I'm back to thinking about apple cake. Mmm. Perhaps this will go onto the agenda of one of my Sunday baking sessions.
Pinkeye!
OK, I know it's weird to be happy to have pinkeye, but it's not bugging me much at all, and I get to be off work today and tomorrow. This is a nice little break.
Keeping my distance from unwary folk, I did go check out the Cathedral on the way home. It's... not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I'm still a Notre Dame type girl, and I never would have chosen this, but it's okay. I do hate the artwork of the Stations of the Cross, and the towering Christ made of points of light behind/above the altar is a bit creepy IMHO, but the wood is beautiful, the light is nice (although I'm a fan of dark churches actually), and some of the side chapels, with rich-toned traditional art, are beautiful. The placement of the tabernacle is traditional, so you can face the altar and genuflect, which is nice. (At my parish you're at an angle of up to 90 degrees if you're next to your pew and you want to genuflect in the direction of the tabernacle.)
There was a docent giving a VERY LOUD AND ECHOING tour, which was distracting, but I just plugged my ears when I went into the Adoration Chapel. It's right behind the altar and the other side of the tabernacle faces in there. Oddly, as I knelt there, a Brother (Dominican, I think) in full habit and a non-habited man came and stood beside me, banging something around... possibly the pole of a flag or candle stand or something. One thing I am always surprised by is how people -- even, apparently, vowed and habited religious -- aren't quiet in churches, even when people are praying. The exception is the parish where I sometimes attend the Latin Mass. They're quiet. It's great.
But anyway, the brother and his friend left quickly and went into the sacristy off the chapel, and I finished praying, looked at the side chapels down the other side of the nave, and then went to see the bookstore. It's still not very well-stocked, though there were some lovely crucifixes. I have one in my bedroom of olive wood, made by Palestinian Catholics and with a little vial of soil from the Holy Land in it. Otherwise, the only other one I have is a heavy cardboard version of a San Damiano crucifix. Someday I'll get a pretty one for the hallway. Not before Christmas, though!
I'm sure I'll be back, especially after the adjoining cafe opens. When I was Episcopalian, I used to go to the Grace Cathedral bookshop and get a coffee at the little stand they had in the hall outside. My ex-husband said they made the best mochas. I am looking forward to picking up a book and then going to have some caffeine and a snack next door.
I wonder if he still has/displays the icons he got at Grace. And what his current wife thinks if he does...
I came home and managed to get the Rx drops in my eyes. I don't touch my eyes, nothing goes in my eyes, I get queasy thinking of eyes. I did OK, though, and they feel better.
So, just a passel of Christmas knitting tonight and tomorrow. I'm glad I can futz around til late tonight, and sleep in, and knit and read. On my agenda:
Item A for family member
Item B for other family member
Cabled coffee sleeves for my immediate co-workers
A cabled scarf for a good friend in another department
I am now definitely on a schedule!
Keeping my distance from unwary folk, I did go check out the Cathedral on the way home. It's... not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I'm still a Notre Dame type girl, and I never would have chosen this, but it's okay. I do hate the artwork of the Stations of the Cross, and the towering Christ made of points of light behind/above the altar is a bit creepy IMHO, but the wood is beautiful, the light is nice (although I'm a fan of dark churches actually), and some of the side chapels, with rich-toned traditional art, are beautiful. The placement of the tabernacle is traditional, so you can face the altar and genuflect, which is nice. (At my parish you're at an angle of up to 90 degrees if you're next to your pew and you want to genuflect in the direction of the tabernacle.)
There was a docent giving a VERY LOUD AND ECHOING tour, which was distracting, but I just plugged my ears when I went into the Adoration Chapel. It's right behind the altar and the other side of the tabernacle faces in there. Oddly, as I knelt there, a Brother (Dominican, I think) in full habit and a non-habited man came and stood beside me, banging something around... possibly the pole of a flag or candle stand or something. One thing I am always surprised by is how people -- even, apparently, vowed and habited religious -- aren't quiet in churches, even when people are praying. The exception is the parish where I sometimes attend the Latin Mass. They're quiet. It's great.
But anyway, the brother and his friend left quickly and went into the sacristy off the chapel, and I finished praying, looked at the side chapels down the other side of the nave, and then went to see the bookstore. It's still not very well-stocked, though there were some lovely crucifixes. I have one in my bedroom of olive wood, made by Palestinian Catholics and with a little vial of soil from the Holy Land in it. Otherwise, the only other one I have is a heavy cardboard version of a San Damiano crucifix. Someday I'll get a pretty one for the hallway. Not before Christmas, though!
I'm sure I'll be back, especially after the adjoining cafe opens. When I was Episcopalian, I used to go to the Grace Cathedral bookshop and get a coffee at the little stand they had in the hall outside. My ex-husband said they made the best mochas. I am looking forward to picking up a book and then going to have some caffeine and a snack next door.
I wonder if he still has/displays the icons he got at Grace. And what his current wife thinks if he does...
I came home and managed to get the Rx drops in my eyes. I don't touch my eyes, nothing goes in my eyes, I get queasy thinking of eyes. I did OK, though, and they feel better.
So, just a passel of Christmas knitting tonight and tomorrow. I'm glad I can futz around til late tonight, and sleep in, and knit and read. On my agenda:
Item A for family member
Item B for other family member
Cabled coffee sleeves for my immediate co-workers
A cabled scarf for a good friend in another department
I am now definitely on a schedule!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Worn Out
I explained today to someone I'd dated casually awhile ago that my most recent string of quasi-relationships had just tuckered. me. out. As much as I'd prefer not to be alone-alone, sitting on the couch knitting quietly is pretty OK at the moment.
Also, I've just been tired. And my eyes are bloodshot for no particular reason that I know of, except maybe allergies. I hate it when I get a queasy tired feeling, though, because when I'm queasy I can't do anything, which is frustrating. Stopped my knitting earlier tonight.
I ripped one of my Christmas gifts and began again on slightly bigger needles. It's a quick knit (so far... when I get closer to the end it may seem interminable), so I wasn't too angst-ridden over the frogging.
I really can't wait for Friday, though... it's payday, I'm leaving early to go buy some work slacks and thence to Article Pract for more Christmas-related yarn (ergo, guilt-free!), and then I will go home, curl up, and recharge. I'm a lector this Sunday so need to go to the 11 AM Mass, which is fine. But that's my only required duty this weekend.
Sometimes I daydream about getting a hotel room for the weekend -- not going anywhere, just getting a space that is sparse and clean and quiet, for a mini-retreat of books and yarn and the like. When I was an Episcopalian, I went on an actual retreat to the Bishop's Ranch (see bottom picture on right; that was the building we stayed in) which turned out a lot like that. I ended up with my own room, and there was a pool, an always-open honor-system bookshop (!!!), a chapel right across the path from our house, and hot-air balloons rising over the valley in the mornings. I don't think I could recreate that quite, but I could rustle something up, surely...
Also, I've just been tired. And my eyes are bloodshot for no particular reason that I know of, except maybe allergies. I hate it when I get a queasy tired feeling, though, because when I'm queasy I can't do anything, which is frustrating. Stopped my knitting earlier tonight.
I ripped one of my Christmas gifts and began again on slightly bigger needles. It's a quick knit (so far... when I get closer to the end it may seem interminable), so I wasn't too angst-ridden over the frogging.
I really can't wait for Friday, though... it's payday, I'm leaving early to go buy some work slacks and thence to Article Pract for more Christmas-related yarn (ergo, guilt-free!), and then I will go home, curl up, and recharge. I'm a lector this Sunday so need to go to the 11 AM Mass, which is fine. But that's my only required duty this weekend.
Sometimes I daydream about getting a hotel room for the weekend -- not going anywhere, just getting a space that is sparse and clean and quiet, for a mini-retreat of books and yarn and the like. When I was an Episcopalian, I went on an actual retreat to the Bishop's Ranch (see bottom picture on right; that was the building we stayed in) which turned out a lot like that. I ended up with my own room, and there was a pool, an always-open honor-system bookshop (!!!), a chapel right across the path from our house, and hot-air balloons rising over the valley in the mornings. I don't think I could recreate that quite, but I could rustle something up, surely...
Monday, October 6, 2008
Comfort Drinking, Christmas Knitting, Religious Musing
Lately I have been all about heating up a cup of milk with a packet of Splenda (well, the Safeway generic equivalent) and a splash of vanilla. I used to just drink it at bedtime but have been having it at any hour recently. Odd, I suppose...
In college I used to just get steamed milk at cafes. I might do that again, now I remember it.
(Yes, I do indulge in the more traditional type of comfort drinking. It's just not noteworthy.)
I have been knitting away on Item A and Item B for Christmas. One of them is in laceweight, although it's not lace (it does have a YO in the border, but that's it). It's going to take awhile but it's mindless, which suits me. :-) The other requires somewhat more thought, but not a lot.
The economy is actually starting to worry me. I hadn't been tripping, since I'm endless years away from getting to retire, but man... Although I am constitutionally fit only to be a housewife and find having a very regimented office job quite psychologically stressful, I certainly don't want to lose my job. It's relatively unlikely, but anything can happen.
Speaking of the housewife thing, sorta. I was listening to the local Catholic radio station while knitting today. They're way more orthodox than I am in most ways, but I find it interesting (until I get told obliquely that I cannot in good conscience vote for Obama, but that's another topic). I got to thinking about what the role of single, childless women is in the Church. I'm not a sister or nun, I'm not a consecrated virgin (!!!), I'm not married, I don't have kids. I don't see myself remarrying -- I'm not opposed to it at all; I just don't think I will. I also don't see kids in my future. I've only ever wanted one person's child (and I am ever so grateful it didn't happen, in retrospect).
However, regardless of the hypotheticals and the minutiae, the facts are: Divorced/annulled, childless. I don't have this family that is always spoken of in religious discourse. It's just me. I have relatives, but when I think of the family in the "domestic church" sense, I don't think of siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins. And since I'm the only practicing anything in my entire family, it's not like faith or spirituality comes up much.
(OK, maybe not "entire family." I have some Catholic cousins who may go to Mass, but I see them approximately once a decade. I have a fundamentalist cousin whom I avoid who may go to some church or another. By "entire family" I mean my aunts and my sisters and their families.)
And really, my ideal life, should I be able to snap my fingers and conjure it up, would be: Married, no outside job, and no kids. One of these things would be condemned by the orthodox (and possibly by the Orthodox). However, since the first one will almost certainly never happen, I don't need to worry overmuch.
I'm actually not really worrying in any case. I do need to think, though, at least, about my place in the Church. And actually, though I started this by wondering about the place of single, childless women in the Church, it applies to men too. I have read heated discussions about whether someone can be "called" to the single (but unconsecrated) life; whether it's a vocation. Most people seem to strenuously believe it's not, but there are partisans on both sides.
Something to ponder.
In college I used to just get steamed milk at cafes. I might do that again, now I remember it.
(Yes, I do indulge in the more traditional type of comfort drinking. It's just not noteworthy.)
I have been knitting away on Item A and Item B for Christmas. One of them is in laceweight, although it's not lace (it does have a YO in the border, but that's it). It's going to take awhile but it's mindless, which suits me. :-) The other requires somewhat more thought, but not a lot.
The economy is actually starting to worry me. I hadn't been tripping, since I'm endless years away from getting to retire, but man... Although I am constitutionally fit only to be a housewife and find having a very regimented office job quite psychologically stressful, I certainly don't want to lose my job. It's relatively unlikely, but anything can happen.
Speaking of the housewife thing, sorta. I was listening to the local Catholic radio station while knitting today. They're way more orthodox than I am in most ways, but I find it interesting (until I get told obliquely that I cannot in good conscience vote for Obama, but that's another topic). I got to thinking about what the role of single, childless women is in the Church. I'm not a sister or nun, I'm not a consecrated virgin (!!!), I'm not married, I don't have kids. I don't see myself remarrying -- I'm not opposed to it at all; I just don't think I will. I also don't see kids in my future. I've only ever wanted one person's child (and I am ever so grateful it didn't happen, in retrospect).
However, regardless of the hypotheticals and the minutiae, the facts are: Divorced/annulled, childless. I don't have this family that is always spoken of in religious discourse. It's just me. I have relatives, but when I think of the family in the "domestic church" sense, I don't think of siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins. And since I'm the only practicing anything in my entire family, it's not like faith or spirituality comes up much.
(OK, maybe not "entire family." I have some Catholic cousins who may go to Mass, but I see them approximately once a decade. I have a fundamentalist cousin whom I avoid who may go to some church or another. By "entire family" I mean my aunts and my sisters and their families.)
And really, my ideal life, should I be able to snap my fingers and conjure it up, would be: Married, no outside job, and no kids. One of these things would be condemned by the orthodox (and possibly by the Orthodox). However, since the first one will almost certainly never happen, I don't need to worry overmuch.
I'm actually not really worrying in any case. I do need to think, though, at least, about my place in the Church. And actually, though I started this by wondering about the place of single, childless women in the Church, it applies to men too. I have read heated discussions about whether someone can be "called" to the single (but unconsecrated) life; whether it's a vocation. Most people seem to strenuously believe it's not, but there are partisans on both sides.
Something to ponder.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Woot!
Or something to that effect.
I went to Mass tonight at 5 so I could grab a bite with a friend of mine afterwards, and so I can sleep in tomorrow before the family BBQ. We were walking down the street to the restaurant, and a cute guy on a bike, as he went by, looked straight at me and whistled.
Yes, for some women that's no biggie. For others it would be offensive. For me, it was like a lovely little shot of adrenaline or something. Nice. I was probably 25 the last time I was whistled at.
My friend and I had dinner and discussed Catholic radio (sometimes annoying, sometimes aggravating, sometimes cool); our parish's Mass (good homilies for the most part; music we really dislike); the new cathedral (mixed reviews, but I haven't been inside yet); the Latin Mass (we love it), confession, work, politics, and food.
I got a latte at Starbucks on the way to the car so I can use it as a model on which to slip the coffee cuffs I'm knitting for co-workers for Christmas. Maybe I'll start one of those tomorrow for BBQ knitting. Hmm.
I had a bizarre knitting episode earlier.
I went to Mass tonight at 5 so I could grab a bite with a friend of mine afterwards, and so I can sleep in tomorrow before the family BBQ. We were walking down the street to the restaurant, and a cute guy on a bike, as he went by, looked straight at me and whistled.
Yes, for some women that's no biggie. For others it would be offensive. For me, it was like a lovely little shot of adrenaline or something. Nice. I was probably 25 the last time I was whistled at.
My friend and I had dinner and discussed Catholic radio (sometimes annoying, sometimes aggravating, sometimes cool); our parish's Mass (good homilies for the most part; music we really dislike); the new cathedral (mixed reviews, but I haven't been inside yet); the Latin Mass (we love it), confession, work, politics, and food.
I got a latte at Starbucks on the way to the car so I can use it as a model on which to slip the coffee cuffs I'm knitting for co-workers for Christmas. Maybe I'll start one of those tomorrow for BBQ knitting. Hmm.
I had a bizarre knitting episode earlier.
I’m knitting a simple scarf in mesh stitch: p, yo, p2tog, repeat repeat repeat. You’d think it would work with multiples of four stitches, and in a pre-frogging incarnation, it did.
I tried about four times this afternoon to get it to work on 36 stitches (somewhat heavy yarn).No (x4). It’s working now… on 37.
Say what?
This is why I'm not a math and science person -- a four-stitch repeat has given me a headache!
Feast Day
It's St. Francis' feast day, so it's one of my name days. I announced to the cats that it was the feast day of one of my patron saints, and theirs too. They were not particularly interested.
Been knitting, frogging, knitting.... Mostly it's been on Christmas stuff while I await the arrival of my extra skein of alpaca-silk for my own scarf. It's been a long time, but feels good, to be on deadline knitting. I don't work well under grave pressure but a deadline is a good thing. I like to have a goal.
Mass tonight, so I can sleep in again tomorrow. I did bail on the birding outing... I just don't feel comfortable with them. It's all me, I admit it freely! Also, I was exhausted at the end of this week. It was great so sleep until 10.
Tomorrow is a family BBQ and I'd better get my socks started so I have some knitting to bring! Since the recipients of the two other projects will be there, I can't exactly whip them out.
And now to straighten up round here. Such excitement!
Been knitting, frogging, knitting.... Mostly it's been on Christmas stuff while I await the arrival of my extra skein of alpaca-silk for my own scarf. It's been a long time, but feels good, to be on deadline knitting. I don't work well under grave pressure but a deadline is a good thing. I like to have a goal.
Mass tonight, so I can sleep in again tomorrow. I did bail on the birding outing... I just don't feel comfortable with them. It's all me, I admit it freely! Also, I was exhausted at the end of this week. It was great so sleep until 10.
Tomorrow is a family BBQ and I'd better get my socks started so I have some knitting to bring! Since the recipients of the two other projects will be there, I can't exactly whip them out.
And now to straighten up round here. Such excitement!
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Desperate for the Weekend
As usual, can't say anything about work, except that Friday night cannot come soon enough. Actually, retirement can't come soon enough. Well, other than the fact that the economy is tanking and for that reason I'm glad I'm 25 years away from it...
One thing I will say I am grateful for, as opposed to the life of my math-and-science-guy friends. One of them texted me at one o'clock this morning; he was going to be up all night coding. He texted me at 6 PM and told me he was just leaving work; had had a 13-hour day. That never happens to me. It's mostly because I'm hourly and literally punch a time clock (no, really, seriously) -- but I walk out the door two minutes after my day ends, always.
I've been knitting furiously on some Christmas gifts; I know it's only October but I'm a slow, slow knitter. And a big-time frogger. So far, so good, though. I'm also going to start the Koigu socks tomorrow; I have a family BBQ to go to Sunday and I want to have non-gift knitting to bring along.
My first birding class was last night. I was a bit awkward when we had to do introductions (I hate the going-round-the-room-introducing-yourself-and-explaining-why-you're-there thing, and I was third so had little time to think), and later I answered a question I think the instructor was hoping someone else might answer, and afterwards in a group discussion with her about binoculars, I kind of blurted out that I close one eye while using them and I think I should have waited for a longer pause in the conversation before saying anything, but it was apropos to the discussion at hand, so... I left feeling very awkward and unhappy, but I will go on this weekend's field trip and see how it goes. At least I think I will.
Although from the general binocular discussion, it seems my $100-ish Bushnells are utter crap -- and even all these very beginning birders have better ones. I tend to maybe agree with them since I do have a hard time with these binoculars, but I thought it was either because of my glasses or my lazy eye. Maybe not. However, they are what I have for at least the next couple of years... and if I bail on this class, who knows if I will ever get good enough to need better ones?
I finally decided ten days or so ago to sign up for a Ravelry invitation; I don't know why it had never occurred to me before. So since last weekend I've been playing around on there. It is pretty damned amazing.
Going to go soak in a tub. I'm worried that with the incipient drought, my long-bath days may be over for quite some time soon. But after my day today (thankfully not 13 hours) I need some bubbles and hot water! Then another hour or so of knitting. The last time I was on a knitting schedule was two years ago when I knit a cabled scarf for a quasi-boyfriend. He liked it and wore it, at least, even if our relationship was doomed. (And I don't think it's because I knit for him!)
One thing I will say I am grateful for, as opposed to the life of my math-and-science-guy friends. One of them texted me at one o'clock this morning; he was going to be up all night coding. He texted me at 6 PM and told me he was just leaving work; had had a 13-hour day. That never happens to me. It's mostly because I'm hourly and literally punch a time clock (no, really, seriously) -- but I walk out the door two minutes after my day ends, always.
I've been knitting furiously on some Christmas gifts; I know it's only October but I'm a slow, slow knitter. And a big-time frogger. So far, so good, though. I'm also going to start the Koigu socks tomorrow; I have a family BBQ to go to Sunday and I want to have non-gift knitting to bring along.
My first birding class was last night. I was a bit awkward when we had to do introductions (I hate the going-round-the-room-introducing-yourself-and-explaining-why-you're-there thing, and I was third so had little time to think), and later I answered a question I think the instructor was hoping someone else might answer, and afterwards in a group discussion with her about binoculars, I kind of blurted out that I close one eye while using them and I think I should have waited for a longer pause in the conversation before saying anything, but it was apropos to the discussion at hand, so... I left feeling very awkward and unhappy, but I will go on this weekend's field trip and see how it goes. At least I think I will.
Although from the general binocular discussion, it seems my $100-ish Bushnells are utter crap -- and even all these very beginning birders have better ones. I tend to maybe agree with them since I do have a hard time with these binoculars, but I thought it was either because of my glasses or my lazy eye. Maybe not. However, they are what I have for at least the next couple of years... and if I bail on this class, who knows if I will ever get good enough to need better ones?
I finally decided ten days or so ago to sign up for a Ravelry invitation; I don't know why it had never occurred to me before. So since last weekend I've been playing around on there. It is pretty damned amazing.
Going to go soak in a tub. I'm worried that with the incipient drought, my long-bath days may be over for quite some time soon. But after my day today (thankfully not 13 hours) I need some bubbles and hot water! Then another hour or so of knitting. The last time I was on a knitting schedule was two years ago when I knit a cabled scarf for a quasi-boyfriend. He liked it and wore it, at least, even if our relationship was doomed. (And I don't think it's because I knit for him!)
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Running Screaming into the Night
So, I finally had my scarf rhythm. You know, on the ever-so-freaking-simple quasi-lace little pattern. The one a real knitter could do while anesthetized. Yeah. That one.
Happily knitting along, everything working, no wackiness, several inches of stretchy soft grey goodness on 28 little stitches. (Well, the stitches were quite big, but 28 is not many, I mean.)
Until.
There. Were. 26.
AAAAAUUUUGGGHHH.
Had I a knitting mentor, I probably could have handed it to them and they could have said, "Oh, yeah, look what you did here," futzed for a minute with the row below, and handed it back to me with my beloved 28 stitches back.
Having none, I cursed myself for trying to watch television while doing anything but knit stitches (I've even said this!), and I ripped the damned thing.
I don't know what my problem is. This has been my besetting issue ever since I started knitting. Yet, over time, I've knit scarves (with cables, even), fingerless gloves, socks, hats (Fair Isle and cabled). I still can never seem to get over the "mysterious screwup that messes with my stitch count," no matter what. Except for in colorwork, because it's color-coded. I can't screw it up.
I'm going to go have dinner now and start. it. again.
Happily knitting along, everything working, no wackiness, several inches of stretchy soft grey goodness on 28 little stitches. (Well, the stitches were quite big, but 28 is not many, I mean.)
Until.
There. Were. 26.
AAAAAUUUUGGGHHH.
Had I a knitting mentor, I probably could have handed it to them and they could have said, "Oh, yeah, look what you did here," futzed for a minute with the row below, and handed it back to me with my beloved 28 stitches back.
Having none, I cursed myself for trying to watch television while doing anything but knit stitches (I've even said this!), and I ripped the damned thing.
I don't know what my problem is. This has been my besetting issue ever since I started knitting. Yet, over time, I've knit scarves (with cables, even), fingerless gloves, socks, hats (Fair Isle and cabled). I still can never seem to get over the "mysterious screwup that messes with my stitch count," no matter what. Except for in colorwork, because it's color-coded. I can't screw it up.
I'm going to go have dinner now and start. it. again.
Yes. Except for the Celibacy.
Your result for The Who Would You Be in 1400 AD Test...
The Monk
You scored 24% Cardinal, 67% Monk, 35% Lady, and 32% Knight!
You live a peaceful, quiet life. Very little danger comes your way and you live a long time. You are wise and modest, but also stagnant. You have little comfort, little food and have taken a vow of silence. But who needs chatter when just sitting in the cloister of your abbey with The Good Book makes you perfectly content.
Disorganized
I was going to get up and go to Mass at the new cathedral today, to give the interior a chance. But that Mass was at 10 and I woke up around 9:40. Probably could have made it in a mad dash, but then one's not really recollected, y'know?
I was up in plenty of time for my usual Mass but futzed around and then had to make a mad dash there. So much for recollection. One of my favorite Jesuits was celebrating, so I managed to settle down eventually.
I came home afterwards, lollygagged a bit and then went to the store. I'm in frugal mode, so it wasn't nearly as much fun as I normally have. Alas.
I have to go bone and skin the chicken leg quarters I got to make the coq a reisling for Friday. Actually, I'm going to make it Thursday night since it allegedly improves with an overnight for flavors to meld. I will need to grab dill, a leek, and some mushrooms on my way home Thursday. I think the recipe calls for bone-in, but I just don't like fishing bones out of stew while I'm eating it, so they're history. Cutting them up now will mean less small-fridge-space taken up for the next few days.
My dinner guest for Friday is a friend with a great history of being a flake vis a vis engagements. The good thing about this dish is that it seems like I could eat it myself over the course of several dinners and it'd be fine. It's not like I'm going to be standing at the stove doing something complicated, which I'd be a little annoyed at doing just for myself. And that says something about me... I'm trying to do the complicated stuff even just for me, but feedback is nice.
I heated up some of my kiwi daiquiri jam last night and poured it over the tiny bit of leftover vanilla ice cream I had. Nowhere near as pretty as a berry or plum jam -- but verrrrry good. I did bail on the thought of making my own ice cream for Friday (see: frugal and tendency to flake). Ben & Jerry's will do just fine.
Now, off to knit! (I got the scarf working again.)
I was up in plenty of time for my usual Mass but futzed around and then had to make a mad dash there. So much for recollection. One of my favorite Jesuits was celebrating, so I managed to settle down eventually.
I came home afterwards, lollygagged a bit and then went to the store. I'm in frugal mode, so it wasn't nearly as much fun as I normally have. Alas.
I have to go bone and skin the chicken leg quarters I got to make the coq a reisling for Friday. Actually, I'm going to make it Thursday night since it allegedly improves with an overnight for flavors to meld. I will need to grab dill, a leek, and some mushrooms on my way home Thursday. I think the recipe calls for bone-in, but I just don't like fishing bones out of stew while I'm eating it, so they're history. Cutting them up now will mean less small-fridge-space taken up for the next few days.
My dinner guest for Friday is a friend with a great history of being a flake vis a vis engagements. The good thing about this dish is that it seems like I could eat it myself over the course of several dinners and it'd be fine. It's not like I'm going to be standing at the stove doing something complicated, which I'd be a little annoyed at doing just for myself. And that says something about me... I'm trying to do the complicated stuff even just for me, but feedback is nice.
I heated up some of my kiwi daiquiri jam last night and poured it over the tiny bit of leftover vanilla ice cream I had. Nowhere near as pretty as a berry or plum jam -- but verrrrry good. I did bail on the thought of making my own ice cream for Friday (see: frugal and tendency to flake). Ben & Jerry's will do just fine.
Now, off to knit! (I got the scarf working again.)
Chuckle
You're 55% Irish |
 You're very Irish, and most likely from Ireland. (And if you're not, you should be!) |
I'm more Scottish than Irish, but with red hair and freckles, everyone assumes the latter first anyway!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
This is How it Goes
Ah, my knitting dorkitude.
I'm sure if I videoed myself, I'd be able to go, "Aha! See, that's where I screwed it up!"
So I decided to just use a very plain, simple mesh stitch to make myself a light scarf out of the grey alpaca-silk I have. I only have two skeins, so need something airy, and I'm usually warm, so nothing too hefty anyway.
It's just p1, yo, p2tog, repeat, end p1. Hard? No. Can I execute purls and yarnovers? Yes I can.
I did a trial run that basically served as a swatch, and I thought it was a little wide, but at least I wasn't ending up with too few or too many stitches. So I cast on ten fewer stitches, did a two-row garter border, and then did my first row of the revised edition.
And had one too few stitches at the end of it.
Argh.
I'm taking a break to stretch and have some coffee, and then I'm getting back to it, damnit. I will not let a four-stitch pattern defeat me.
I'm sure if I videoed myself, I'd be able to go, "Aha! See, that's where I screwed it up!"
So I decided to just use a very plain, simple mesh stitch to make myself a light scarf out of the grey alpaca-silk I have. I only have two skeins, so need something airy, and I'm usually warm, so nothing too hefty anyway.
It's just p1, yo, p2tog, repeat, end p1. Hard? No. Can I execute purls and yarnovers? Yes I can.
I did a trial run that basically served as a swatch, and I thought it was a little wide, but at least I wasn't ending up with too few or too many stitches. So I cast on ten fewer stitches, did a two-row garter border, and then did my first row of the revised edition.
And had one too few stitches at the end of it.
Argh.
I'm taking a break to stretch and have some coffee, and then I'm getting back to it, damnit. I will not let a four-stitch pattern defeat me.
So Cool
I'm living vicariously. How very cool. She also gets to own the queen of disapproving bunnies.
My birding class starts Wednesday. I know it's a tiny baby step sort of thing, but I'm really excited. I love any kind of class, I'm excited to learn about this (it's hard for me to teach myself -- see knitting), and the field trips should be fun.
I am concerned because the last time I took an adult school class, it was at a high school, and the chairs were way too small for the voluptuous likes of me. And this was in 2000. I'm hoping there will just be a counter or something I can sit on or anyway lean against.
You know, I look at myself and though I'm not a small person, I'm also not point-and-stare big. It's funny how many things are still uncomfortable for people my size, though. Oh well... slooooowly working on it.
Speaking of the self-taught knitting, though... I was most irritated at myself. I started a simple lace scarf, then realized the instructions had to be off numerically. No way they could work. Found another pattern in one of my books, and managed to screw it up twice -- once badly, once in such a way that I decided it was a freakin' design feature -- and then, when I thought I had it... I was one stitch short at the end of a pattern row.
I ripped, put my needles down, and went to bed. Note to self: Do not watch The Daily Show or The Colbert Report while trying to knit anything other than garter or stockinette.
My birding class starts Wednesday. I know it's a tiny baby step sort of thing, but I'm really excited. I love any kind of class, I'm excited to learn about this (it's hard for me to teach myself -- see knitting), and the field trips should be fun.
I am concerned because the last time I took an adult school class, it was at a high school, and the chairs were way too small for the voluptuous likes of me. And this was in 2000. I'm hoping there will just be a counter or something I can sit on or anyway lean against.
You know, I look at myself and though I'm not a small person, I'm also not point-and-stare big. It's funny how many things are still uncomfortable for people my size, though. Oh well... slooooowly working on it.
Speaking of the self-taught knitting, though... I was most irritated at myself. I started a simple lace scarf, then realized the instructions had to be off numerically. No way they could work. Found another pattern in one of my books, and managed to screw it up twice -- once badly, once in such a way that I decided it was a freakin' design feature -- and then, when I thought I had it... I was one stitch short at the end of a pattern row.
I ripped, put my needles down, and went to bed. Note to self: Do not watch The Daily Show or The Colbert Report while trying to knit anything other than garter or stockinette.
Weight Mystery
Somehow, even though I have been slack in my walking and very uneven in battling my ravenous hours, I managed to lose a few ounces since my last weigh-in. So, not exciting in the weight-loss way, but I am pretty amazed that I haven't gained anything back.
I think the reason lies somewhere around the fact that I used to eat an incredible amount of food (sating that ravenous hunger always), so even eating a somewhat-larger-than-is-perhaps-advised amount of food is still quite an improvement.
Weird dreams last night... that I lived in an apartment that had a sleeping porch a la some of the dorms at my college -- they had no glass windows you could close, just blinds that could be drawn down over the open half -- and one of my cats jumped out to a bad end. Then I was at a Catholic wedding at a Buddhist temple (?); I'd never met the bride, who was the friend of a friend, but I was a bridesmaid in a dress reminiscent of one I wore in my middle sister's wedding nearly thirty years ago. They had brought in a tabernacle, which was a low, heavy, glazed-ceramic box, and my friend and I went and bowed before it, attracting some attention from the Buddhists. We won some sort of scavenger hunt contest and the bride brought us champagne. Apparently the groom owned the building from which my cat had jumped and was actually some kind of playboy who shouldn't have been getting married, and some guy showed me a large bag of pot he was carrying.
This is what happens when I sleep too late.
I think the reason lies somewhere around the fact that I used to eat an incredible amount of food (sating that ravenous hunger always), so even eating a somewhat-larger-than-is-perhaps-advised amount of food is still quite an improvement.
Weird dreams last night... that I lived in an apartment that had a sleeping porch a la some of the dorms at my college -- they had no glass windows you could close, just blinds that could be drawn down over the open half -- and one of my cats jumped out to a bad end. Then I was at a Catholic wedding at a Buddhist temple (?); I'd never met the bride, who was the friend of a friend, but I was a bridesmaid in a dress reminiscent of one I wore in my middle sister's wedding nearly thirty years ago. They had brought in a tabernacle, which was a low, heavy, glazed-ceramic box, and my friend and I went and bowed before it, attracting some attention from the Buddhists. We won some sort of scavenger hunt contest and the bride brought us champagne. Apparently the groom owned the building from which my cat had jumped and was actually some kind of playboy who shouldn't have been getting married, and some guy showed me a large bag of pot he was carrying.
This is what happens when I sleep too late.
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