Any Philly's fans out there?
So yesterday I was nowhere near a computer I could use all day. Then I went home and TiVi'd and knitted until bedtime.
It was lovely not going anywhere or doing anything.†
I intend to maybe do a little more of the same tonight.
[SUMMARY: Lazy and loving it.]
I'm rapidly approaching the heel on the last Sparkle Sock and I cast on Yorick last night and got the first skull and two or six or ten inches% of the scarf part done.
I may finish those up before New York after all.
[SUMMARY: Still a knitblog!]
I can't get all wild-hairy tonight anyway. I accidentally^ blew off my grandmother two weekends running and I *must* go see her tomorrow. Otherwise they will revoke my granddaughter card and my cousin Tani will take over Most Favoured Granchild status solely on the basis of having the most recent baby.
We can't be having that.
[SUMMARY: Family politics.]
Besides,‡ I do love my grandmother and it makes her really happy when I come to visit. And if we get the conversation steered the right way, I learn really cool things about Dad that I can use as leverage should I need it. Or just for fun table talk at family dinners.
[SUMMARY: And the family politics just keep coming.]
It's going to be a busy, busy weekend. Before I talk futures, let's visit Wednesday night's hockey opener.$
I love mechanical things, toys. From C-batteries to supercharged cars to jet engines, I love them all. Perhaps the Zamboni most of all.§
And look at this one:
Huh. It just occurred to me that I may have sub-consciously bought the Mini Cooper because it is the car that most closely resembles the Zamboni.&
The preamble for a game has all the subtlety of a drag queen.
The ice goes red...
...the ice goes blue...
...the ice spins and dapples and goes red and blue and flashy from all sides and there's stuff that looks like leopard spots or maybe ripples in a pond and spotlights swing in mad circles and...
...and then they bring the players on. Loudly.
One hockey player... two hockey players... three hockey players... four, four beautiful hockey players!¶
That's it, I'm out.
[SUMMARY: Can't count past four.#]
...then a hat trick by Stastny. I do have a picture of hats on the ice and little maintenance people shuffling around with garbage cans, picking up the hats off the ice. But it's at home. In my other computer.
I'm pretty sure that, in looking at the 27,000 pictures I took to get this one...
...I didn't realise one of them was the hat trick and forgot to upload it so I could share.
Things you might want to know:
That shot that I am claiming is the best of 27,000 is because of the reflected skaters in the glass around the ice.
See, I have a strong shiny-object lobe in my brain.†† It finds objects and fixates on them and won't let go until some loud noise or person next to me waving their hands in front of my eyes snaps me out of it.
When I watch basketball, if I hear a shoe squeak -- just once -- I can no longer focus on the game because I can hear *all* the shoes squeaking. With football, it's night games where the lights turn the players and their shadows into highly mobile jacks.‡‡
Wednesday night, for the first time, I noticed how cool the reflections are when skaters go by the panels of glass in the corners. This may be what passes for artsy in hockey.
Despite all that distraction, I do know the Avs won. I cheered every goal.§§
[SUMMARY: Hockey hockey hockey hockey hockey hockey hockey]
Kelley drove and picked a parking lot+ under not one, but TWO cranes.
[SUMMARY: Always the cranes...]
So this weekend... ah, this weekend.
Tomorrow morning, I go see Grandma. Tomorrow night, I go see Genesis.
Sunday morning, breakfast with Bag Lady Kathryn (not too early, I admonished, Marin will be shutting down a bar Saturday night).
Drinking with Kelley.‡‡‡
[SUMMARY: Is there such thing as too much fun?]
And late to work on Monday.
Happy Friday, ev'ry-bahdy!
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I say that like that isn't exactly what I did all weekend last weekend. Well, except for the part where I helped Bag Lady Kathryn paint her dining room. Well, I be. I guess I was useful last weekend. Yea, me!
%FOOTNOTE (percented): How am I supposed to gauge this? The boys keep telling me ten inches looks like *this*, but then the sweaters never fit.
^FOOTNOTE (careted): Yes, it's possible. No, I won't teach you how.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): This is not the afterthought it seems. I'm nicer than that. Shut up.
$FOOTNOTE (moneyed): Mostly because I'm in love with how well my camera handled hockey.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Yes, even more than the variable-speed, purple, g-spot vibrator. That's a *lot* of Zamboni love.
And that sounds ten more kinds of dirty. What is wrong with me today?
&FOOTNOTE (ampersanded): So much Freud, so little time.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): And I do mean beautiful. Hockey players are hot. So hot. Oh, my C-batteries! Seriously, other than Scotty Bowman, who is the exceptional toad that proves the rule, hockey players have a minimum level of hotness that rivals the upper echelons of real-world male hotness.
Does the ice keep their skin pretty or something?
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Some of you may recognise the amazing improvement this represents, since I couldn't count *to* four earlier this year. Knitting has helped me grow, and I'm a better person for it. Or at least less likely to blindly accept the wrong change at Starbucks.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): No, AntiM! Say it ain't so!
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): The pick-up kind that comes with a red ball that you got when you were a kid.
§§FOOTNOTE (curvalicious): Sometimes smacking the guy in front of me in the head with my camera as I did. It's OK -- he was cheering for the other team.
+FOOTNOTE (plussed -- the opposite of non-plussed?): I just want to be sure you understand that I didn't park us somewhere just to get under the cranes (dirty!). It was Kelley's choice, all her own free will and everything.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (all the pretty paragraphs): For which I will bake the first cherry pie of safe-to-turn-the-oven-on season.
##FOOTNOTE (pounded like a beer at last call): Who moved gametime Sunday to allow for a possible Rox game.
†††FOOTNOTE (tres... tres cruces bonitos!): Y'know... if they don't put the Phillies away Saturday. Also, if you're in Denverish on Sunday, don't be. At least not downtown. Sportsfest, Oktoberfest, 12,000 women in pink hats (Race for the Cure, in case I out-clevered myself on the reference), free parking... it'll be a madhouse.
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (railroad tracks!): Who works for a credit union and has Monday off for Columbus Day. Hey, I can't let my girl drink alone.