I still love it. It's still utterly fascinating to watch the colours mix and blend and emerge from each other.†
I still get a little tingle of pride every time I successfully count to eight.‡
[SUMMARY: Lizard Ridge: helping knitters help themselves.]
Blocking kinda sucks,§ though it's magic, so worth the suckitude.
Blocking wires, which I thought would be a miracle cure for all my blocking woes, still require an assload of T pins. Fortunately, I am now the proud owner of an assload of T pins.
The cat wants to eat my entire assload of T pins, so a certain amount of camouflage¶ is needed.
[SUMMARY: There's a reason Brother calls him "dummy."]
ETA: I have finished three out of four strips, and 4.125 out of six blocks on the last strip. For those of you looking for statistics, that's 92.1875%* done. Close... so close.
I have for you a Ravelry love story, in the key of small world.%
On the Downtown Denver Stitch 'n' Bitch group, I "met" Angelique, who, having read I live mere blocks from Posh, a Yarn Boutique,^ said, "You must live pretty close to me. I live in the old Elitch's."
"Why... I live in the old Elitch's! You should come to Drunk Knitting night on Tuesday!"
And she did. So I met her without quotation marks.
We also found she's met my cousin, Tani, as they were the first two to move into their phase of the row homes as the little development was being built.
She's very funny and bright and didn't seem at all put out with the raucous and irreverent nature of our little clan.
Plus, she's a roadie for bands, so it really helps my Six Degrees of Separation quotient.
[SUMMARY: I'm coming for you, Kevin Bacon.]
In other news, I have entered# the Dolores Look-Alike Contest over at The Panopticon. Hey, there's ELEVEN skeins of Lorna's Laces, some Blue Bunny and Rabbitch fibres and all that glory and prestige on the line.
Besides, being a hopelessly straight girl, the closest I may ever come to the nervy, nauseating elation of coming out to one's family was answering -- when asked what happened to my hair -- "Dad, I just need to look as much like a cartoon sheep as possible."
Ah, if only Dad could see me in my faux sheepskin robe,†† lipstick-encrusted martini glass in hand, weaving the mesmerising Dolores fairy tale of Henry Kissinger backstage at the Met.
[SUMMARY: Welcome to my world. You may want to hold your breath and close your eyes.]
Never have so many chins given so much to a single cause.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): And I'd probably be done right now if I didn't spend a half-hour every single night tripping on all the pretty colours.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): That's four... times TWO!
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Nearly two hours for the first strip, and it was totally wonky and had to be redone. Mostly because that was before I discovered the Assload of T Pins Solution. Patent pending.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I threw a sheet over it. Hey, when your brain's the size of a walnut, camouflage is kinda relative.
*FOOTNOTE (asterisked): Oh, yes I did. That's 1/8 (.125) of a block plus four blocks out of six blocks out of 1/4 of the whole... let's see... ought plus ought, carry the ought... yep. 92.1875%. Not bad for someone who can't count to four, can I get a whut-whut!
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Not the Disney ride. Some people are scared of clowns (see yesterday's post). I find the insipid cultural diversity kids creepy.
^FOOTNOTE (careted): a/k/a Sylvia's House of Fuzzy Crack.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I had to break off right there to go actually send the picture so's I wouldn't be lying. Truth in journalism and all that.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): With leopard-print lapels!