The pink† cashmerino‡ finally made its way home.§
For the record? No mail Saturday, Monday, Tuesday... seven copies of the weekly grocery flyer, a Nordstrom bill from November¶ and my yarn today.
I feel *so* lucky to have ever received this package. I believe it may qualify as a miracle.#
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): It's a lovely, lovely pink.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): And the remaining two cones of green.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Home is where you hang your cashmere.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I went paperless in December.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): In the new theism, I believe my post office is Satan.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Boxing Day
We're moving.
The office, I mean.
Oh, we're just moving to the other tower. Hans and I will even have roughly the same view we do now. We'll still be able to keep an eye on the billboard across the street.
[SUMMARY: Keeping you apprised of the important stuff.]
But we still have to pack everything like we're moving to Juneau.†
As a wholly-relevant tangent,‡ the last time I moved my residence, they told me not to bother emptying dressers and file cabinets and such. The movers brought these giant rolls of saran wrap§ and cosied everything right up.
The guys moving our office require we empty our desks and credenzas.
Several people have poked their heads into my office and said, "Are you ever going to start packing?"
"*snort*," I reply.¶ "I don't use my desk drawers, so I really don't have much to pack. I'll toss a few things into the crates on Friday and be done with it."
[SUMMARY: Pride... fall... bad saint! Go to your room!]
So I opened the drawers I was sure held almost nothing and boy, was my face red.
You can't imagine how much perfume# was in that desk.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I exaggerate. The nice office movers actually bring us colour-coded labels and boxes that fit onto wheeled dollies like Legos, but it's funnier if we're moving to Juneau.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): One could argue that the person tangenting shouldn't be allowed to determine the relevance, but none of you is here to help me so I made an executive decision.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): They forgot one. It's still in my garage. You never know when you'll need six miles of three foot-wide plastic wrap. Someday I may need to move bodies.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Because there is no better appetiser for a plate of crow than a good snort.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): A pile of knitting patterns too, but they can be disguised as work documents.
The office, I mean.
Oh, we're just moving to the other tower. Hans and I will even have roughly the same view we do now. We'll still be able to keep an eye on the billboard across the street.
[SUMMARY: Keeping you apprised of the important stuff.]
But we still have to pack everything like we're moving to Juneau.†
As a wholly-relevant tangent,‡ the last time I moved my residence, they told me not to bother emptying dressers and file cabinets and such. The movers brought these giant rolls of saran wrap§ and cosied everything right up.
The guys moving our office require we empty our desks and credenzas.
Several people have poked their heads into my office and said, "Are you ever going to start packing?"
"*snort*," I reply.¶ "I don't use my desk drawers, so I really don't have much to pack. I'll toss a few things into the crates on Friday and be done with it."
[SUMMARY: Pride... fall... bad saint! Go to your room!]
So I opened the drawers I was sure held almost nothing and boy, was my face red.
You can't imagine how much perfume# was in that desk.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I exaggerate. The nice office movers actually bring us colour-coded labels and boxes that fit onto wheeled dollies like Legos, but it's funnier if we're moving to Juneau.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): One could argue that the person tangenting shouldn't be allowed to determine the relevance, but none of you is here to help me so I made an executive decision.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): They forgot one. It's still in my garage. You never know when you'll need six miles of three foot-wide plastic wrap. Someday I may need to move bodies.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Because there is no better appetiser for a plate of crow than a good snort.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): A pile of knitting patterns too, but they can be disguised as work documents.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Nicknames
A nickname† says one of three things:@
1) I like you so much, I want to name you myself, to have this tiny, personal link that I give from me to you. It's a token of my esteem.‡
2) You are so horrible and laughable that I feel a need to say something derisive about you every single time I mention you.§
3) Your name or occupation lends itself so readily to a nickname I must apply one, even if I don't know you well enough to determine rules one or two apply.
[SUMMARY: I am a master of useless generalisations.]
Under the black auspices of condition No. 2, I feel my post office needs a nickname.% Post Office of the Damned? The Post Office that Time Forgot? Lost Office?
[SUMMARY: Bitter much?]
Y'all chime in here anytime. I may be starting to lose my sense of humour where the mail is concerned.
Because my post office is trying to kill me.¶
I received HALF of my Colourmart shipment yesterday. Four cones of the blue and two of the green. Four pink and two green are... where? At the Jiffy Lube on South Federal# for whom I inexplicably get mail four or five times a year?†† A neighbour's? In the parking lot of Safeway?
[SUMMARY: The Travelocity gnome got nothing on my yarn.]
On the bright side, the yarn is gorgeous. The blue is almost exactly as it looks on my computer screen and the green has a brighter, more acid edge that brings it even closer to the ideal I was seeking when I started my quest.
I'll let you know how the pink is if I ever get it.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Funny, we were just discussing nicknames in the comments. Not philosophically, just the surety that if I changed my name to Griselda, a certain portion of the population would resist "Zelda" and insist on calling me "Griz."
@FOOTNOTE (atted): For the purposes of this rant, in any case.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Even if I choose to call you Wombat or Fishlips.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Overwhelmingly childish and good for the soul.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Oh, my PO has a first name, M-O-T-H-E-R...
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Do they not know I'm prone to stroke?
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Currently at least five miles away on SOUTH FEDERAL BOULEVARD, not, one would think, to be mistaken for WEST 37th AVENUE.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Oddly, when I lived on North Hooker Street, I also got mail from that same Jiffy Lube, prompting me once to write, "Do I look like a Jiffy Lube?" in angry red Sharpie on an envelope. A question, I might add, that I don't really want an answer to.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed):
1) I like you so much, I want to name you myself, to have this tiny, personal link that I give from me to you. It's a token of my esteem.‡
2) You are so horrible and laughable that I feel a need to say something derisive about you every single time I mention you.§
3) Your name or occupation lends itself so readily to a nickname I must apply one, even if I don't know you well enough to determine rules one or two apply.
[SUMMARY: I am a master of useless generalisations.]
Under the black auspices of condition No. 2, I feel my post office needs a nickname.% Post Office of the Damned? The Post Office that Time Forgot? Lost Office?
[SUMMARY: Bitter much?]
Y'all chime in here anytime. I may be starting to lose my sense of humour where the mail is concerned.
Because my post office is trying to kill me.¶
I received HALF of my Colourmart shipment yesterday. Four cones of the blue and two of the green. Four pink and two green are... where? At the Jiffy Lube on South Federal# for whom I inexplicably get mail four or five times a year?†† A neighbour's? In the parking lot of Safeway?
[SUMMARY: The Travelocity gnome got nothing on my yarn.]
On the bright side, the yarn is gorgeous. The blue is almost exactly as it looks on my computer screen and the green has a brighter, more acid edge that brings it even closer to the ideal I was seeking when I started my quest.
I'll let you know how the pink is if I ever get it.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Funny, we were just discussing nicknames in the comments. Not philosophically, just the surety that if I changed my name to Griselda, a certain portion of the population would resist "Zelda" and insist on calling me "Griz."
@FOOTNOTE (atted): For the purposes of this rant, in any case.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Even if I choose to call you Wombat or Fishlips.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Overwhelmingly childish and good for the soul.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Oh, my PO has a first name, M-O-T-H-E-R...
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Do they not know I'm prone to stroke?
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Currently at least five miles away on SOUTH FEDERAL BOULEVARD, not, one would think, to be mistaken for WEST 37th AVENUE.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Oddly, when I lived on North Hooker Street, I also got mail from that same Jiffy Lube, prompting me once to write, "Do I look like a Jiffy Lube?" in angry red Sharpie on an envelope. A question, I might add, that I don't really want an answer to.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed):
Friday, February 19, 2010
How Wagnerian
*ringring* *ringring*
"This is Marin."
"Hello, I'm trying to reach Griselda."†
"I'm sorry, you have the wrong number."‡
I could *totally* rock "Griselda."§
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I didn't know Griselda was a real name. I thought it was strictly the province of children's books.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Usually, I'd try to figure out if they were actually calling for someone in the company and had just dialled the wrong number, but I feel confident that if there was a Griselda in the building, I'd know about it.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Griselda Elizabeth Untiedt has *such* a ring. Which is a pun, though an obscure one.
"This is Marin."
"Hello, I'm trying to reach Griselda."†
"I'm sorry, you have the wrong number."‡
I could *totally* rock "Griselda."§
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I didn't know Griselda was a real name. I thought it was strictly the province of children's books.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Usually, I'd try to figure out if they were actually calling for someone in the company and had just dialled the wrong number, but I feel confident that if there was a Griselda in the building, I'd know about it.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Griselda Elizabeth Untiedt has *such* a ring. Which is a pun, though an obscure one.
Knitting Excitement!
Of course,† not for what I'm knitting right now, today, which is a baby blanket that isn't really tripping my trigger.‡ Miles and miles§ of superwash garter stitch... great for the Olympics, not so tantalising for my cashmere-cloaked, circus-knitting soul.
And I have marvelous yarn from Carol Jean¶ - 50/50 wool/alpaca, light green subtly dappled with grey-blue. And a wonderful natural Araucania wool alpaca grey twist. But I don't know what to make with either, so I fondle them nightly and continue kniting miles of garter stitch.
I finished the infamous# Later Gator Sweater,†† but, y'know... camera... upload... we'll get there.
I also knitted lumps of coal for the Family Christmas Party, but I took no pictures, so I don't even have the "too lazy to upload" excuse.
[SUMMARY: Why bother talking about knitting?]
Despite all this waffling, there is some upcoming knitting about which I'm very excited.
Excited to the point of frantic.‡‡
I will be knitting - *whisper* - for myself.
[SUMMARY: That's why.§§]
Sweater.
Then possibly sweaters.
[SUMMARY: I'm not committing to any long-term contract here.]
I plan to knit this sweater%:
Basic Black Cardigan by Glenna C.
Using these needles¶¶:
Kollage Square Circular
In at *least* the green## of this yarn:
Colourmart 2/6NM dk wt 5/95 cashmere/merino bulky wool in pistacho,††† fuscia and azul mel
Finishing with these buttons@ on the respective colours‡‡‡.
from As Cute as a Button
[SUMMARY: A plan! I have a *plan*!]
The yarn should arrive any day. Until then, I sit at my post box§§§...
*open open open*
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): "Of course," because the alpaca is always fluffier on the other side of the fence.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Though I have dubbed it the Gay Pride Baby Blanket, so at least it has that going for it.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): And even less thrilled now that I've left my state of denial and realised what I've knit so far is the right width for a bookmark and, at this rate, the blanket will be 16" x 12".
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Yes, we are on a first-name basis. When she's not looking.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Possibly only among the immediate family. Mostly with Dr. Doom, who has been dying for the sweater since he didn't get it on Christmas.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): So named because it was a very, very late Christmas present. And because it is in the shape of an alligator.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Because it has to come through my post office.
§§FOOTNOTE (here's where I turn on you): So there.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): My decision to knit this sweater has NOTHING to do with the fact that Glenna and I have roughly the same hair.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (let me beat this into you): OMG OMG OMG! I *love* these needles! They're comfy and pretty and the cable is OMG soft as chiffon and it doesn't kink or coil and they warm in your hands like wood and they're just a little grippy without being sticky and OMG did I mention copper and size printed right on the needle and OMG!
##FOOTNOTE (#Cassandra #Juno): A hard-won green, found at last by Cassandra who, while she didn't push me to buy three colours of yarn, did point me to the blue and thoroughly enjoyed shopping with my money.
†††FOOTNOTE (knitting cross - coming soon to an Olympic competition near you): [sic] Apparently, that's how you say "pistachio" and "fuschia" in Spanish.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): It won't surprise you to know I did a search for skull buttons in specific. I looked at every single button on the ACAAB website and kept stopping at this cord lock because it looks so much like a friendly, Hello Kitty-esque skull:
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (sew buttons): OK, maybe I'll switch the skulls and the pink glass. It's better to be wishy-washy in the footnotes and sound like you know what you're talking about in the blogpost proper. You might also notice I switched from "at least this one colour" to "I have buttons for all the colours." I'm sneaky that way.
§§§FOOTNOTE (boo*hisss*): Which mocks me with its tardy, black, yarnless emptiness.
And I have marvelous yarn from Carol Jean¶ - 50/50 wool/alpaca, light green subtly dappled with grey-blue. And a wonderful natural Araucania wool alpaca grey twist. But I don't know what to make with either, so I fondle them nightly and continue kniting miles of garter stitch.
I finished the infamous# Later Gator Sweater,†† but, y'know... camera... upload... we'll get there.
I also knitted lumps of coal for the Family Christmas Party, but I took no pictures, so I don't even have the "too lazy to upload" excuse.
[SUMMARY: Why bother talking about knitting?]
Despite all this waffling, there is some upcoming knitting about which I'm very excited.
Excited to the point of frantic.‡‡
I will be knitting - *whisper* - for myself.
[SUMMARY: That's why.§§]
Sweater.
Then possibly sweaters.
[SUMMARY: I'm not committing to any long-term contract here.]
I plan to knit this sweater%:
Basic Black Cardigan by Glenna C.
Using these needles¶¶:
Kollage Square Circular
In at *least* the green## of this yarn:
Colourmart 2/6NM dk wt 5/95 cashmere/merino bulky wool in pistacho,††† fuscia and azul mel
Finishing with these buttons@ on the respective colours‡‡‡.
from As Cute as a Button
[SUMMARY: A plan! I have a *plan*!]
The yarn should arrive any day. Until then, I sit at my post box§§§...
*open open open*
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): "Of course," because the alpaca is always fluffier on the other side of the fence.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Though I have dubbed it the Gay Pride Baby Blanket, so at least it has that going for it.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): And even less thrilled now that I've left my state of denial and realised what I've knit so far is the right width for a bookmark and, at this rate, the blanket will be 16" x 12".
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Yes, we are on a first-name basis. When she's not looking.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Possibly only among the immediate family. Mostly with Dr. Doom, who has been dying for the sweater since he didn't get it on Christmas.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): So named because it was a very, very late Christmas present. And because it is in the shape of an alligator.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Because it has to come through my post office.
§§FOOTNOTE (here's where I turn on you): So there.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): My decision to knit this sweater has NOTHING to do with the fact that Glenna and I have roughly the same hair.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (let me beat this into you): OMG OMG OMG! I *love* these needles! They're comfy and pretty and the cable is OMG soft as chiffon and it doesn't kink or coil and they warm in your hands like wood and they're just a little grippy without being sticky and OMG did I mention copper and size printed right on the needle and OMG!
##FOOTNOTE (#Cassandra #Juno): A hard-won green, found at last by Cassandra who, while she didn't push me to buy three colours of yarn, did point me to the blue and thoroughly enjoyed shopping with my money.
†††FOOTNOTE (knitting cross - coming soon to an Olympic competition near you): [sic] Apparently, that's how you say "pistachio" and "fuschia" in Spanish.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): It won't surprise you to know I did a search for skull buttons in specific. I looked at every single button on the ACAAB website and kept stopping at this cord lock because it looks so much like a friendly, Hello Kitty-esque skull:
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (sew buttons): OK, maybe I'll switch the skulls and the pink glass. It's better to be wishy-washy in the footnotes and sound like you know what you're talking about in the blogpost proper. You might also notice I switched from "at least this one colour" to "I have buttons for all the colours." I'm sneaky that way.
§§§FOOTNOTE (boo*hisss*): Which mocks me with its tardy, black, yarnless emptiness.
Monday, February 15, 2010
An Interlude with My Brother
We call this one, "Conversation with Zach"†:
Zach: "What's the difference between set up and setup?" (Make appropriate hand gestures to delineate the two) "Like with a space and without a space, what's the difference?"
Brother: "With a space, it's a verb. Without a space, it's a noun."
Z: "Oh, boy."
B: "OK, if you're going over to Dad's house to check out his computer setup, that's no space. The setup is a thing, a noun. If you are going over to set up your Dad's computer, there's a space. You're doing something, it's a verb."
Z: "OK, so if I say the JOA‡ is set up in Quorum,§ that has a space?"
B: "Right."
Z: "What if the JOA is not set up in Quorum?"
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Zach is sort of like Brother's Hans. Though Hans is mostly *intentionally* funny.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Joint Operating Agreement, my bread and butter.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): A petroleum industry-specific database program.
Zach: "What's the difference between set up and setup?" (Make appropriate hand gestures to delineate the two) "Like with a space and without a space, what's the difference?"
Brother: "With a space, it's a verb. Without a space, it's a noun."
Z: "Oh, boy."
B: "OK, if you're going over to Dad's house to check out his computer setup, that's no space. The setup is a thing, a noun. If you are going over to set up your Dad's computer, there's a space. You're doing something, it's a verb."
Z: "OK, so if I say the JOA‡ is set up in Quorum,§ that has a space?"
B: "Right."
Z: "What if the JOA is not set up in Quorum?"
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Zach is sort of like Brother's Hans. Though Hans is mostly *intentionally* funny.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Joint Operating Agreement, my bread and butter.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): A petroleum industry-specific database program.
Friday, February 5, 2010
I Am Kermit. Hear Me Ribbit.
Hi-ho, Kermit the Frog† here.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Legal Notice: All Muppets and related images are copyright of The Walt Disney Company. I don't want Mickey Mouse kicking my ass or taking my house.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Rats Dead... Bodies Everywhere...
Is "rat-killing" specific to the petroleum industry, or do all people use this term?
Call me the Pied Piper of Petroleum Problems, St. Marin of the Dead Rat.
Sheesh. I'm putting "exterminator" on my résumé.
Call me the Pied Piper of Petroleum Problems, St. Marin of the Dead Rat.
Sheesh. I'm putting "exterminator" on my résumé.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Attached
It's not quite like that, really.
You know those times you† send out a lengthy and hard-won work email, with careful wording that shows off your vast and varied vocabulary while maintaining readability, that hints at greatness and touches on the good of the company and all hinges on the concept that you attached the illustrative document... and you have to resend everything with some version of "Oops!" when someone@ says, "I don't see the attachment."
This reminds me of that.
[SUMMARY: Drawing on common experience to make myself feel less dorklike.]
Yesterday's post about knitting angst may have lost some of its oomph when you clicked the link to find yourself in a sterile grey house with sterile grey people staring out of different doorways while their sterile grey dog blends into their sterile grey carpet.‡
See, the Unhappy Hipsters blog isn't set up so someone with the technical acumen of a WWII vet§ can figure out how to link to an individual post. Only I didn't realise that until this morning.
[SUMMARY: I'm not as quick as I used to be.]
So, at the risk of infringing on copyrights,¶ I'm simply reenacting# the blogpost here so you can see what I really meant.
Trapped by the tawny palette, he struggled through yet another brown knit scarf.
(Photo: Randi Berez; Dwell, September 2005)
You're welcome.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): And by "you," I mean "I." You probably stopped doing that ages ago.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): For me, it's almost always the boss or the know-it-all from the 6th floor.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I'd never noticed how morose Dwell Magazine is.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): That'd be me.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Something a saint should never, ever do.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Like some historical event. It's not stealing or infringing, it's reenacting.
You know those times you† send out a lengthy and hard-won work email, with careful wording that shows off your vast and varied vocabulary while maintaining readability, that hints at greatness and touches on the good of the company and all hinges on the concept that you attached the illustrative document... and you have to resend everything with some version of "Oops!" when someone@ says, "I don't see the attachment."
This reminds me of that.
[SUMMARY: Drawing on common experience to make myself feel less dorklike.]
Yesterday's post about knitting angst may have lost some of its oomph when you clicked the link to find yourself in a sterile grey house with sterile grey people staring out of different doorways while their sterile grey dog blends into their sterile grey carpet.‡
See, the Unhappy Hipsters blog isn't set up so someone with the technical acumen of a WWII vet§ can figure out how to link to an individual post. Only I didn't realise that until this morning.
[SUMMARY: I'm not as quick as I used to be.]
So, at the risk of infringing on copyrights,¶ I'm simply reenacting# the blogpost here so you can see what I really meant.
Trapped by the tawny palette, he struggled through yet another brown knit scarf.
(Photo: Randi Berez; Dwell, September 2005)
You're welcome.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): And by "you," I mean "I." You probably stopped doing that ages ago.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): For me, it's almost always the boss or the know-it-all from the 6th floor.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I'd never noticed how morose Dwell Magazine is.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): That'd be me.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Something a saint should never, ever do.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Like some historical event. It's not stealing or infringing, it's reenacting.
St. Brigid and the Six Weeks of Winter
It's that time of year again.†
Sheep‡
Thousands of sheep, soft-footed, black-nosed sheep--
one by one going up the hill and over the fence--one by
one four-footed pattering up and over--one by one wiggling
their stub tails as they take the short jump and go
over--one by one silently unless for the multitudinous
drumming of their hoofs as they move on and go over--
thousands and thousands of them in the grey haze of
evening just after sundown--one by one slanting in a
long line to pass over the hill--
I am the slow, long-legged Sleepyman and I love you
sheep in Persia, California, Argentine, Australia, or
Spain--you are the thoughts that help me when I, the
Sleepyman, lay my hands on the eyelids of the children
of the world at eight o'clock every night--you thousands
and thousands of sheep in a procession of dusk making
an endless multitudinous drumming on the hills with
your hoofs.
- Carl Sandburg
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): When St. Brigid brings a basket of teeth down the chimney and if she sees a turkey's shadow, it means six more weeks of winter.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Because, despite all appearances, this is still a knitblog.
Sheep‡
Thousands of sheep, soft-footed, black-nosed sheep--
one by one going up the hill and over the fence--one by
one four-footed pattering up and over--one by one wiggling
their stub tails as they take the short jump and go
over--one by one silently unless for the multitudinous
drumming of their hoofs as they move on and go over--
thousands and thousands of them in the grey haze of
evening just after sundown--one by one slanting in a
long line to pass over the hill--
I am the slow, long-legged Sleepyman and I love you
sheep in Persia, California, Argentine, Australia, or
Spain--you are the thoughts that help me when I, the
Sleepyman, lay my hands on the eyelids of the children
of the world at eight o'clock every night--you thousands
and thousands of sheep in a procession of dusk making
an endless multitudinous drumming on the hills with
your hoofs.
- Carl Sandburg
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): When St. Brigid brings a basket of teeth down the chimney and if she sees a turkey's shadow, it means six more weeks of winter.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Because, despite all appearances, this is still a knitblog.
Monday, February 1, 2010
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