Sylvia's Last Stand

Sylvia's House of Fuzzy Crack is no more. The last truck took its last load this morning.

Posh will forever be the place I found knitters. People to knit with. Social knitting. Competitive knitting. Supportive knitting. Showing off knitting.




Women who can always be counted on to ooh and aah over Nathan's package.†

[SUMMARY: It's fibrelicious!‡]

Posh will forever be the place I learned about mail order chickens§ from Marybeth.




Without Posh, I might still be knitting endless scarves every football season¶... and endless baby blankets in the spaces in between.

I might never have met Bonnie# or Kate†† or Leslie...




...or (gods forbid) Genius Sarah. Who would hit me on the arm and say, "I have a question," all the way through baseball playoffs and untangle my yarn for me when I got too eager and couldn't wait until I got home to winder and swift and muddled it all up at Drunken Knitting?




Or Meg. Meg of the Mini Cooper and the motorcycle and the intense, funny intelligence. Or Heather, whose baby shower continued my knack for walking in on big, happy Posh parties.




Or Leslie, self-professed skincare whore and funny, erudite knitting writer.




Or Natalie, who makes me spit wine out my nose laughing.




Or Liza-Spelled-Lisa who accidentally got married, then accidentally adopted a second child.




Or Rosie who loves perfume, or Ligia who is an Capital-E-Educator and lives around the corner from me.




[SUMMARY: These are the people in my neighbourhood.‡‡]

It's the end of a soft, many-plied, colourful, beautiful era.

XOXOXOXO, Sylvia. It'll be sad knowing I can't just drop by on a random Friday afternoon.

See you around.

[SUMMARY: *sniffle*]

Don't ask how much I spent at the moving sale.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Oh, look what I did. Now he feels violated and I feel twelve. heheheheheh

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): And I'm not just talking about Nathan's package.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Thus continues the Summer of the Chickens. By the way, Marybeth says the chickens would, indeed, look fetching in sweater vests, but if we want to knit them we have to do it fast -- and I'm guessing not get too attached to the results -- because the chicks have already doubled in size.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): College boyfriends, high school friends, roommates... nobody was safe from the annual football scarf, twelve feet long, double-thick and ten inches wide. heheheheh. Sorry... had a moment.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Who is new, but noteworthy and has, in fact, cut her hair since this photo (just in case you see her around town).

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Who talks more than I do and gets captioned in the footnotes for it.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Y'know... my *spiritual* neighbourhood. The family you choose. The next-door neighbours of my soul. People who certainly deserve better photography than I've given them here.

Breaking Update!

So I was at the Tattered Cover website† to see if they had that new drinking and knitting book‡ Kim pointed me to and I noticed that Cutest Little Car in the Whole Wide World is still prominently§ featured in the tiny slideshow in their banner.

Let's hope the fame doesn't go to my head.¶


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): A B&N boycott is easier when you are minutes from one of the best independent booksellers in the country.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Pints & Purls

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I may be the only one who thinks of it as prominent.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Where it would wander in the desert for forty years.

Miss Me?

I had a very pleasant and long weekend.†

I haven't time to tell you all about it now,% but I will give a teaser for the rest of the week:

Drinking and dancing and breaking Lent‡ on Friday. You saw the Facebook entry, next -- read the blogpost.§

A stroll down the 16th Street Mall with my main Shanny on Saturday.¶

Sunday in the museum with the Nephews.

PLUS! What's in the trowel drawer? Knitted objects with pretty buttons! Drunken knitting: proof of life! Exotic playthings from distant lands!

[SUMMARY: I am a marketing genius.]

Stay tuned...


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I always forget that half of corporate America closes down for Good Friday, so I got Friday off and the office closed early on Thursday and I played hooky yesterday. Gotta tell ya -- it's more fun when you feel like you're getting away with something.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Off to the BLM to work. You are so jealous. You wish your job was as glamourous as mine.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Unless I decide to be Catholic, in which case the massive cocktail intake on Friday was simply a normal reaction to the end of Lent on Thursday.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Also? There are pictures. You won't see them.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I'll show you pictures of that. There's a funny bit with a cross...

Glitter of a Different Kind

Not the David Bowie kind... not even the Mariah Carey kind.†

This is the hallowed, soft, silky, gleaming glitter in the eyes of a knitter who has reached knitterly nirvana and delights in the envy of friends and family; thrower, picker and normal person alike.

[SUMMARY: Happy sigh.]

And sequins. It may have something to do with sequins.^

When I wrung all the photos out of the camera Sunday, I was trying to figure out which order to do all this in -- alphabetical? potential impact? number of photos?%

I opted for "order in which it was received."‡

So welcome to day two, the second missing package. This one might have been addressed to Blanche du Bois, a product, a it was, of the kindness of a stranger. Well, not stranger in the "unknown" sense, a friend to be sure, but a stranger to knitting.§

Isn't it remarkable what a fresh eye can bring to the stash?¶

Fabulous Yarns knows packaging is important:




And they do carry fabulous stuff.

[SUMMARY: Duh.]

This is Artyarns Cashmere 5. It's kinda hard to tell, but there's maybe a little more brown in this than the picture lets on.




Ah... there's the brown.




Cashmere, cashmere, soft as angels' wings packed in spring clouds. And I learned something very interesting about this particular cashmere: despite the fact that it looks like laceweight, it's actually wound as five unplied strands to make up a worsted weight.#

Thus:




[SUMMARY: I think we've all learned something here today.]

This one makes me dream at night. And troll Ravelry for hours.†† And guard it jealously when I show it off at Drunken Knitting and never turn my back on it because, y'know, knitters always have tote bags and plenty of pockets to hide a prized skein of yarn.‡‡




Look closer -- you'll see why this particular yarn drove me to new heights of photographic creativity.§§




My neighbours think I'm insane.¶¶

I don't care. I have The Yarn.##


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Sorry, Nathan. I know how you love your Mariah Carey Glitter references.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): Sequins AND beads.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Best? Favourite? Prettiest? Best pictures? It was like Sophie's Choice until I came up with the very pedestrian "first come, first served."

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): It works for Comcast, it should work for me.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): And maybe a little strange (says the black pot). But mostly "stranger" in the sense of "not a fibre geek."

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): And it just goes to show that good taste crosses genres.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Fabulous Yarns also has very patient customer service people who very patiently explained this to me when I wrote to tell them, "I think your yarn is mis-labeled because clearly this is laceweight."

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): What *am* I going to make with the sequins and beads?

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I'm playing out my own version of The Tell-Tale Heart here, people.

§§FOOTNOTE (twisted): Both yarns (collectively: The Yarn) went on many field trips as I showed them off and photographed them. When I floated the Rogue River for five days, I came away with 900 pictures. When I paraded The Yarn, I ended up with 800 pictures. I have a problem.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (raise your hand if you agree with the neighbours): Insaner. Than they already did. Nobody ever gets close enough for me to explain the blog thing. All they see is me photographing yarn and books on my deck and in the gazebo and in the Carousel Pavilion and they keep their distance.

##FOOTNOTE (the pounding from the floorboards): And the BEATING OF HIS HIDEOUS HEART! That may be funnier in my head than it is here. Y'all are used to that. Go back and look at the pretty yarn if you need to.

Art of Glass

I missed Wednesday.

When you're busy making the world safe for big oil, sometimes meetings and world domination† just eat into your day.

I feel I can make up for skipping Wednesday by giving this on Thursday:


{from Popular Mechanics}


Temperature sensitive glass. Obviously, it could be very cool on a shower door,‡ but I think the key application is barware.

Picture this: the singles bar of the future, where you can tell at a glance who's the ice man§ and who's hot blooded.¶ Where just the right amount of ice can get your G&T to match the blue of your eyes or a dash of cinnamon schnapps will give off smoke signals nobody can ignore.

Besides, it'd give bartenders another dimension to work. An idle bartender is the devil's playground.#


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): "What are we going to do tomorrow night, Brain?"

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): And you could re-enact the car scene from "Titanic" with LSD-like special effects.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): He cometh!

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Did anyone else just go Foreigner?

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): So they told us in Sunday school.

Long Time No

A B C D knitter?

L M N O knitter.

S M R a knitter.

C D yarn?

[SUMMARY: Paraphrasing.]

You'd think I wasn't diligently knitting every night and planning social events around Tuesday's Drunken Knitting and Saturday morning's Reveille Knitting.† You'd think I hadn't seen a new skein of yarn since the old year.

No, no. I understand. It's my fault and I take full responsibility. But despite all appearances, I've been busy as a beaver‡ behind the scenes.

F'rinstance, I'm almost through my stint as a Black Bunny Fibers yarn club member. Perhaps you remember the purple laceweight from a couple of months ago. Well, there have been two installments since then:




Black Bunny Chunky 100% Falkland wool in a vibrant turquoise semi-solid called Icicle.§ The above is a little over-exposed, but a surprisingly close representation of the colour in real life. If you average the vibrancy above with the variegation below, you've got a pretty good idea.




We had a white elephant exchange at one of the hundred and twelve office Christmas parties last month and I snagged Apollo here. My bust may not be as big as Franklin's,¶ but I think it's as artistically viable.#

I plan to knit stuff for it.††

Anyway... more yarn:




Isn't it pretty? Its colour name is Restoration. Look at those browns and purples and corals in with that nice New England red.




Nearly 500 yards of 75/25 superwash wool/polyamide. Appropriately enough, I'll probably use it for one of the patterns from Carol Jean's‡‡ latest publication.§§

[SUMMARY: It's Carol Sulcowski Thursday.]

Well, until we get to the FO part of the post.

Here is my sheep-like, follow-the-herd contribution to the Cult of the Stripe:




I call it the Chypre Scarf, in honour of my recent education¶¶ in both the ways## and pronunciations††† of the perfume category known as chypre.‡‡‡

Let's see... 1.5 skeins each Noro Silk Garden numbers 239 and 249 on Size 7 needles.

It still needs to be washed and blocked,§§§ but the knitting and weaving parts are all complete. When all is said and done, it will be 5.5 or 6 inches wide and a little over six feet long.

I couldn't be happier with the subtle, elegant flow of colours. I was paralysed by choice at the Noro rack at Sylvia's House of Fuzzy Crack, but Kris jumped in and helped me and she is my hero for the day.

[SUMMARY: I get by with a little help from my friends.]

I'm still working on the Purple Prose scarf,¶¶¶ started a Baby Surprise Jacket### and hope to begin a six-at-once sock-knitting experiment in the near future. I am also the volunteer for Sticks 'n' Stitches again this year.††††

[SUMMARY: Still a knitblog!]

Today's offering was brought to you by the letters DK and FO, and by the numbers 239, 249 and 7.

*************

Today's perfume review started out to be Fracas by Robert Piguet. Because my brain is about two hours behind the rest of me until after noon, I forgot I have two versions of this perfume (the original and the current), which I purposely got so I could do a compare-and-contrast review of it. Them. Whatever.

So I'm going to hold off, but I thought it might be an interesting educational bit for those who have never thought of it: many perfumes go through numerous changes in their lifetimes. A 1940 vintage Joy may be entirely different -- almost unrecognisable -- from its 2009 namesake.

This is due in part to availability and price of components, but also because some ingredients have been found to be allergens or toxins as time and science go by. Coming from the other end of that road, strictures have become tighter on what exactly constitutes a toxin or an allergen.

If Chanel No. 5 or Mitsouko just doesn't smell like it did when your mother wore it when you were a child, it's not necessarily just you -- it could actually be a whole new scent.

[SUMMARY: Time changes things, perfume is fleeting, I may find this way more interesting than you do.]


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Not its official name. That's what I call it because it gets me out of bed before noon on Saturday. Besides, it sounds like "Ravelry" and that's kinda cool.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Easy, Kim.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Or maybe Icicles. I don't know if Carol planned on one icicle or many icicles when she started that project.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Yeah, it's a link to Carol's blog, but her picture of Franklin's bust was readily available. And it's not totally inapt since we are talking about Carol and awful lot.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Without the pictures, that's a marvelously strange sentiment.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I am just that kind of dork. When I was in the sixth grade, I knit a matching scarf and fin-cap set for a rubber shark. I have *always* been just that kind of dork.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Yes, I call her Carol Jean. She knows me mostly as the dink who couldn't press the right PayPal button, yet I feel comfortable enough to call her Carol Jean. Come to think of it, I'm not sure where I got the Jean. Hell, her middle initial may not even be J.

§§FOOTNOTE (back to Carol Jean): Thus:




¶¶FOOTNOTE (little graduates, all in a row): Thanks to a very patient Nathan, who didn't laugh directly at me even once.

##FOOTNOTE (pounding it into my thick skull): Like where it's Cyprus, not cypress. There's a big difference -- totally different directions.

†††FOOTNOTE (put a tack in that one): Sheep-er or Sheep-ra, as opposed to "chai-per," which is what I was saying prior.

1) Isn't that a nice pun for a knitted object?
2) Sheep-ra, Princess of Power! I've wanted to do that for ages.

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (thinking outside the boxes): Usually with citrus and usually a woody note usually from oakmoss, plus amber and sometimes sandalwood. It's not hard science.

§§§FOOTNOTE (swish it in the water...): Just a little blocking. Mostly to disquise the lumpy bits on the edges from carrying new yarn up the side.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (one step forward, two steps back): I finished 12 of 16 repeats... then frogged back to 10. I finished 10 and 11 and am now gathering strength to go back to the beginning of 10 again. I've actually knit seven Purple Prose scarves. It's just that they didn't all make it out of childhood.

###FOOTNOTE (bam!bam!bam!): For not-evil future stepsister-in-law.

††††FOOTNOTE (dear gods, it's four): Day game on Saturday, January 31st. You don't have to knit or crochet, but it couldn't hurt. Get your tickets!

Revolutionary Resolutions

Every year when January 1 rolls in, I experience resolution anxiety.

Are resolutions stupid and cheesy?†

Is it dumb to put such emphasis on one day of the year, to put all your self-improvement eggs in one icy basket, to guppy up to the lemming-like rush of the masses toward probably failure?‡

Or is it just a good bookmark, a might-as-well-start-somewhere logical starting point, a touchstone for yourself and all you hope to become?§

[SUMMARY: Attempting to mask procrastination with pretty words.]

Turns out, mostly I just like to play with myself.¶

Games, I mean.

I was waxing neurotic about all this% Saturday at not-drunken-morning-coffe-shop knitting,# and Betsy†† told me about an exotic new resolution system‡‡:

1. Take the month of January to settle down from the holidays and get into the swing of things.
2. Assess your resolution needs and actually start them on February 2 (2/2).
3. Revisit and revise as needed on 3/3, 4/4, 5/5 and so on.

I would like to say I appreciate this for its sense of balance and it's recognition of me as a work in progress. In the name of honesty, I have to say the number thing appeals to the very minute C part§§ of my OCD tendencies¶¶ and it has a sort of game-like appeal## that really speaks to my inner child.†††

[SUMMARY: Some of us need more to keep our interest than others.]

I thought I would share this with y'all, in case anybody out there is looking for a new way to view resolutions.‡‡‡

And, hey -- if you fall off the wagon, you can always re-start or drop it entirely on your revise and revisit day.

[SUMMARY: Sanctioned waffling!]

If I'm going to buy into self-help, it has to come with an escape route.

I know it's a weak blog day, but tomorrow@... to make it all better... KNITTING!


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Possibly.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Probably.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Well, yeah... that too.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I only say things like this because you expect me to. Normally, I'm a demure, clean-living, Stepford girl. Who happens to be twelve.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Not the playing with myself part, the resolutions part.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Even I don't drink before 10:00 am. Mostly.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Who doesn't have a blog and may not read blogs and would never know if I didn't give her credit. She didn't make this up and doesn't remember where she heard it, but, by golly, it isn't my idea, so I'm determined to credit someone else. Who's keeping track of my saint points? What am I up to so far?

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): New to me. Maybe only exotic to me too.

§§FOOTNOTE (all those fours make my head spin): Which mostly manifests itself in counting things. Ironic, no?

¶¶FOOTNOTE (do those look parallel to you?): I'm sure it comes as no surprise to any of you that I have a tiny little obsessive streak.

##FOOTNOTE (pound that dice popper): If they could work one of those dice popper things in, I'd never look for another way to do resolutions again.

†††FOOTNOTE (or a spinner! With an arrow!): Who needs to be distracted with number games and dice poppers to keep her from taking her clothes off and playing in the neighbour's bird bath.
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (three track mind): I also recommend squinting and tilting your head to the left.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): Whichever version of tomorrow works for me, that is.

Knitta's Paradise

It's a good day to be a knitter.†

For one thing, it's Tuesday, which means it's Drunken Knitting night. To make DK even better, it's Billy's Inn night.

I love Patrick Carroll's. It's three blocks from home,‡ it's right across the street from Sylvia's House of Fuzzy Crack and they've been really good to us.

But a year-and-a-half of the same bar menu wears on even the most intrepid knitter/gustafarian.§ Billy's has *wonderful* food¶ and better light and a marvelous patio, so it's a good alternative.

[SUMMARY: Still drinking, still eating, still knitting.]

And yesterday I got my prize winnings from Lyda Kay's Casting About for a Name contest.

You may already be following along with Karen's or Anna-Liza's prizes. Mine's purple and orange, like one of those lacquered and sparkled lowriders with flames and chrome and such.






See? Shiny!#

[SUMMARY: All my friends know the lowrider... la la la...]

This was my prize package, so there was a pig, of course.

And it came from Lyda, so there was a zombie, of course.




Tommy the Sith Apprentice Cat slipped in a handful†† of kitty toys, including plastic eggs. Note how the plastic eggs have ventilation holes. All the better to transport a vole?‡‡




[SUMMARY: Thanks, Lyda!]

Yesterday, I also got the CD insert from my Very Special Birthday CD. I didn't take a picture. I should have. There's something about seeing "marin birthday" as the first track that makes me all goosebumpy.

*************
NOTE TO SECRET PAL: I just *knew* I heard Judy Collins in there!
*************

[SUMMARY: Thanks, Secret Pal!]

AND... I finished the Dove Leaves scarf last night. And wove in the ends. And washed it and blocked it.§§





Yarn: Fiddlesticks Knitting Silk Sensation, in Dove
Needles: US4
Pattern: Wavy Leaves Scarf from Fiddlesticks Knitting

The pattern says it ends up about 46" long at ten pattern repeats. I did twelve@ repeats and blocked the living shit out of it to get 49".

It should probably be noted for those of you who missed it the first thousand times it's been brought up: I knit a little tight. This mostly affects length -- my stitch count in a row is usually spot-on. Thus the very tight, barely-blockable short scarf.

[SUMMARY: You know the words, sing along: Still a knitblog!]

Tonight at DK, I fully intend to finish the deconstruction of the Father's Day Arrrgyles.

As a matter of fact, I *do* think I have superpowers!¶¶

*************
Creed - Love in Black

Marin Says: You know those sugared violet candies? Or violet-flavoured Chiclets?## I suspect that's what the initial scent was (sneaking a peak at the list), though I got stuck on crayons or Play-doh and couldn't quite place what childhood item it evoked. It's pleasant but weird for a perfume. I absolutely love it a couple of hours in. I smell mostly clove, cardamom and cedar, with a touch of black currant and a hint of something floral.

The Perfumed Court says: Due to be released in the U.S. in September, we've brought this in from the Paris boutique, which is the only place it is available. Created as an homage to Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, it has notes of night-blooming wilfdflowers from the Greek isles, violet from italy, Virginia cedar,% iris at the heart, clove,% Tonkin musk, blackcurrant% from France and Bulgarian rose. It is a beautiful, fascinating, feminine floral.

Hans says: "That smells like... um... urgh... I like it... let me smell again.

"Yeah, like crayons or something... that's not quite right... again?

"Bah... go with crayons. I'm not happy with it, but I can't find the right word. Say crayons mixed with Play-doh."

Later: "Is this a new one?

"Yeah, after the roll-out,^ I'm definitely getting violets."


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Really, aren't most days good days to be a knitter? Other than December 21st (when you're still deluding yourself you can get done if you can only knit 22 hours a day for the next four days and will probable end up with a dozen pet rocks or dancing flowers or whatever you can get in bulk at Wal-Mart at the last minute), at least?

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Which means I can drag myself home by my lips if the situation dictates it.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I think I just made that word up. I think I'm awfully clever.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): SPECTACULAR salsa, made fresh in-house.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): And now that Low Rider song is going through my head.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Pawful?

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): F_ _ L D M _ _ _ _

"I'd like to buy a vole, Pat."

§§FOOTNOTE (two-ply for your comfort): What is wrong with me? I'm not a finisher, I'm a starter! My reputation as a knittease is at stake!

@FOOTNOTE (atted): For one... twelve! For two, I love the number thirteen, but this is a gift, so I didn't want to jinx anyone else's triskaidekaphobia. That would be a bad gift.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (two scoops, please): And I'm pretty sure I get Saint Points for that too.

##FOOTNOTE (better by the pound): Which I've only seen in Mexico. I bought about three hundred tiny little boxes of violet Chiclets when I was thirteen, studying Spanish in Mexico.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Ha! Got one! Also? Blackcurrant is one word?

^FOOTNOTE (careted): I hipped Hans to the lingo. He may become unlivable.

Secret Pal 12 Question 7

What is (are) your favorite place(s) to knit? and What supplies (besides yarn & needles) make the setting perfect for knitting?

First question:

I love to knit at the bars.† There's beer‡ and company and the distraction of dinner and beer.

I love to knit in my recliner in front of the TiVi. I saw a brain-scan study once where they showed a person's brain doing some puzzle activity,§ then that same person's brain watching TiVi,¶ then that same person's brain watching TiVi while knitting.#

I rest my case. I don't watch too much TiVi, I'm fighting brain rot on a daily basis.

And I particularly love knitting during football season. Curled up for hours in front of the TiVi, often with beer and company and the distraction of dinner and beer. So the best of all possible worlds.

Second question:

I'm going to have to say, "Beer and TiVi," Bob.††


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Patrick Carroll's and now the re-vamped Billy's Inn, new home of Cute Christopher. The lighting's better, the food is better, but it's a longer walk home from Billy's than Patrick's and Billy's isn't right across from Sylvia's House of Fuzzy Crack. So for now we're splitting our time.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Can substitute wine, vodka or hard cider.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Red and active!

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Dark and cold!

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Even activer than doing a puzzle!

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Didn't see that one coming, did you?

Blue Period†

Knitting. Ah, yes. Despite all lack of evidence, I still dance with yarn.

I've done a little picking on Brother's Father's Day Arrrgyles, deconstructing them so I can re-do them in a way that makes sense.

But it's not all about the tearing down. Or even the rebuilding.‡

I've been doing a little creating too.§

[SUMMARY: Not claiming god status, just proving I'm still a knitter.]

These little blue blobs¶ are Malabrigo Slippers from Coco Knits.

They are knit of Malabrigo# in... um... blue,†† size 8 needles. The pattern is pretty cool, with no seaming.

I can tell you from experience, however, that you can't put the toe of the upper over the heel of the sole and hope it will all work out.‡‡




As you can probably see, I haven't woven in the ends yet, and these could use a little blocking.§§ Also, I'm going to put the little acorn embellishment on them.¶¶ But you get the general idea.##




So that's one project.

[SUMMARY: Now on to the bonus round.]

Oh, dear. Sylvia is bad. In a good way. Bad for me. Sort of.

I just couldn't resist. It's Alchemy's Silken Straw.

I'm pretty sure a camera% can't do justice to the colour or the shiny.




It's absolutely stunning in person. It feels oddly like raffia††† -- dry and smooth, but not at all silky.

I bought it mostly because I was dying to see how it knits up.




[SUMMARY: Ass.]

It's pretty enough, but what a colossal pain. The tape structure completely disintegrates with the slightest handling, devolving into a dozen or so fine threads, each with a mind of its own.^

You can see one of the escapees in this picture.




Silken Straw and I started out on the wrong foot, granted.

I bought it from Syl on Drunken Knitting night,‡‡‡ along with size 5 Addis because I had to start knitting *right now*. Couldn't wait for a swift and a winder.§§§ So I laid the hank out neatly on the table and within minutes, I had embarked on an adventure in physics that defied patience.

I actually had to chew the yarn apart at one point because it had looped in on itself and somehow gotten spun one side between random, running silken threads...

But I finished. Ended up with two balls,¶¶¶ but I finished.

And I cast on.

As tight as I knit, the size 5 needles were too big. So I frogged it all and cast on with size 4 needles when I got home. I now speculate that the fours the yarn calls for are too big.

Part of it is my own ineptitude. I have twice lost stitches with no evidence of how. No drops, no runs, no odd lumps, no misplaced yarnovers. Just one less stitch than I actually need to do the lace pattern.

The first time, I frogged. Oh, I tried to tink, but those tiny, rebellious threads thwarted me.

The second time, I said, "fuck it"### and just made a new stitch. It's barely noticable. We'll see if I can maintain long enough to finish this scarf.

[SUMMARY: We are counting on my patience and good will here. *snarf*]

By the way? It knits up... oddly. It's dry, but not rough. It has no drape at all because it has no weight. I'm still dying to find out what it does when there's a couple of feet of knitting instead of just the few inches I've been able to manage so far.

Heh.

Balls.

Inches.

Heheheh.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Which is kinda funny because I'm actually on my period. I know Brother won't laugh, but y'all chicas should chuckle a little. And if not, well... I think I'm funny.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Why do I suddenly want to play with Legos?

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): As much as you can give me credit for creating when I'm following someone else's pattern.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): For my grandmother, whose feet have grown from a dainty size 4 to what seems to be an embarrassing size 5. I wish I'd thought to get a picture of my big ol' paws next to them (Cat for Scale was asleep upstairs) so you could get a real idea of the Barbie-esque nature of these shoes.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Duh.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): No, really... duh.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): You're rolling your eyes with the duh of it all, aren't you?

§§FOOTNOTE (knit... purl...): I'm not sure how to do that. I think stuffing them with washcloths when they're damp is the way to go.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (headless chickens): Red. Red acorns.

##FOOTNOTE (two... two... two pounds in one!): Which is, "Marin is still knitting."

%FOOTNOTE (percented): At least my camera.

†††FOOTNOTE (triple-crossed? Really?): Not that raffia is that odd, but silk generally shouldn't feel like raffia.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): This little silk thread went to market, this little silk thread stayed home...

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (all in a row...): Which may have been my first problem.

§§§FOOTNOTE (we have the beginnings of i-cord here): I'm not sure whether beer exacerbated the winding problem or helped calm me down when it all went pear-shaped.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (triple play!): Go ahead. I'll wait here while you finish giggling.

###FOOTNOTE (big numbers): Out loud. To the cat.

Aw, C'mon... Just a Little Slurp

I have some pig-licking good tidbits today... and a whole slew† of pig-licking photos for tomorrow!

[SUMMARY: You are so excited!]

*************

I heard a stoopid classic on the radio yesterday:

The news break on The Ride Home‡ included a story about how an advocacy group is calling the US Mint discriminatory against blind people because all US paper currency is the same size.

There was a sound bite from a spokesperson explaining that the US is the only country with prejudiced paper money.

Then the news caster said,§ "Proposed changes include making bills differents sizes and different colours."

[SUMMARY: Revel in the bad joke.%]

*************

Patrick Carroll's, current home turf of Drunken Knitting, is under new management.

Cute Christopher left at the end of April to assist with the opening of a bar for which he'll be general manager and part owner, leaving Shylin in charge of the PC.

Shy sat down with me for a moment last night and told me she's thinking of making Tuesday Ladies Night.

I suddenly feel very powerful.

[SUMMARY: Continuing delusions of grandeur.]

*************

When I was just a little girl, my mother caught me talking to myself¶ in the corner of our empty dining room# one day.

"What's your name, little girl?"

"Marin."

"Marion?"

"No. Marin."

"Marilyn?"

"No. Marin.

"Mary Ann?"

"No. Marin. Rhymes with Sharon and Karen."

"Oh... Marin! That's a pretty name."

"Thank you."††

I still go through a small version of this now and then, but the current version is people who pronounce it Mahrin‡‡ even though they've never seen it in print.

Think about it: if you meet me, and our mutual friend Sue introduces us...

"Dave, have you met Marin? Marin this is Dave."

And then you never got an email or a letter or saw me on the wall in the post office or anything and suddenly started calling me Mahrin... why? Why make the giant leap from the phonetics you know to the wild and unexplored land of potential spellings and BACK to a mispronunciation?

[SUMMARY: Dave's birthday party was hard on me for more than just flirtopause.§§]

*************

Thanks to Mary Kay, I am now aware of a Canadian game show¶¶ for kids called "Don't Lick the Pig."

[SUMMARY: There is nothing new in the world.]

*************

From Google Analytics keyword searches:

billboard installation
carry-on snakes
landmanning
pillars of the earth sex scenes
sick and twisted blog
compulsion by calvin klein
where is the tuaca bar located at the pepsi center

[SUMMARY: I'm clearly out of content here.]

*************

I'm out. Happy Wednesday, ev'rybahdy!


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Slough?

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): With Dave and Lois.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I am not making this up.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): If I may be the voice of reason here (shut up), all stupidity around the colour issue aside, how long would it take to get all the current homogenously-sized currency out of circulation? I'm not unsympathetic, but blind people have been coping with this one way or another for ages and there is just no practical solution on a US Mint kind of level. Think of how much it would cost us taxpayers to put such a measure in place... only to have it largely useless until all the old currency is gone.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Two thoughts: If it had been twenty years later and if my mother had been so inclined as to keep up with horror movie trends, she might have had some concerns of a sort of Damien/Poltergeist/Village vibe with a tiny blonde child talking to the corner of a room. Second: You may draw your own conclusions from the fact that Mom wasn't actually worried about me talking to myself, just curious what I might be saying.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Until about 2000, we never had anything in our dining rooms except the piano. We ate in the kitchen. In 2000-ish, Mom found a table on sale at American Furniture Warehouse that she simply couldn't pass up, so the dining room got a horizontal surface on which to store books and clothes and stuff.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Note how polite.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): As in "mar." As in "scar for life."

§§FOOTNOTE (I am SO confused): Yes, Ange, that is a white girl problem.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (two mints in one!): Allie, I'm disappointed. As my number one Canadian, I count on you to educate me about these thing.

Drop In, Opt Out, Co-Opt

Once again, I have almost nothing to say.

No wisdom to impart,† no sex,‡ no knitting.§

[SUMMARY: This could be a long post.¶]

I don't have wisdom, sex or knitting, what do I have?

I can lick the pig.




I take comfort in the thought that no matter how bleak things get, I can usually scrape together enough bits for a respectable pig-licking.#

[SUMMARY: I have a dream...]

*************

First, remember how I wanted to go to Slovenia?%

The fact that there is a Slovenian Pig Stamp doesn't make me want to go any less.

*************

Next, in a long-awaited update to the office trash situation,†† we did finally get our "piggy backs"‡‡ for our trash cans. The trash portion of the system is smaller than a ream of paper. Apparently they haven't seen my trash after a yarn shipment.

[SUMMARY: Still a knitblog!]

Anyway, I've already thrown my kleenex in the wrong bin twice.

Further updates as the situation warrants.

*************

Now for the co-opt portion of our program:

This is not my story, but Mary Kay doesn't have a blog, so it's not so much *stealing* as it is giving an outlet for Mary Kay's wonderful world.

See, Mary Kay is a Drunken Knitter and shows up at Patrick Carroll's on Tuesday nights with some regularity, but she's a double agent.

A group of acedemicians, of which Mary Kay and her husband (The Professor) are members also meets at Patrick Carroll's on Tuesdays. So Mary Kay rides the fence, spending some time fiber-geeking with us and some time science-geeking with the other crowd.

So last Tuesday, Mary Kay had the most wonderful story, a story whose punchline has innumerable potentials.§§

See, a good friend of The Professor has a .45## in his house for protection.

Now is the time I introduce you to the concept of Ninja Monkeys: "Ninja Monkeys" is a blanket term¶¶ for any threat from assaulter to zombie that may beg the presence of a firearm.%%

So this guy became concerned about what might happen should Ninja Monkeys attack while he's in the shower. His hands would be wet. The gun might slip.

He did what any respectable denizen of the 21st century would do: he Googled aftermarket grips for his gun and came across a saying I'd like to have emblazoned across my boobs:†††

Tacky Even When Wet

And I want to translate it to Latin and use it as part of a coat of arms for the Drunken Knitters.

And Mary Kay and I started using it as a call and refrain@:

AntiM: Tacky...
Mary Kay: Even when wet!

[SUMMARY: Oh, the places you'll go!]

*************

I just cashed in a whole pile of Kharmic Green Stamps on titanium sporks.‡‡‡

When Dad took me to the Flyfishing Film Fest, they had a bunch of raffle prizes. I was totally hoping I'd win the titanium spork. Unfortunately, it went to the obnoxious, ungrateful wretch behind us, who (besides being loud through the whole event) did nothing but complain that he got a stupid titanium spork.

Some people don't know a good thing when they have it.

I decided it would be a funny and -- probably -- even useful gift for my father for his upcoming birthday, so I Googled it. REI has a flagship store really close to me, so I checked to see if REI carried such a thing.

Their online store has several.

As you may remember, Shane turned 40 recently.§§§ And Hinch is turning 40 soon. And I got it into my head that a titanium spork would be a perfect gift for a 40 year old guy. And I really want one too.

So I need at least four titanium sporks, an errand I haven't yet accomplished.

Let's look in on Hans.

Hans had his golf clubs stolen right out of his car recently. When his insurance company asked for receipts or photographic evidence that he'd ever actually owned golf clubs,¶¶¶ he found... he couldn't prove a damned thing.###

So he has to get an affidavit from a friend saying he golfs and had golf clubs.

Said friend is meeting him at REI.

I asked him to check and see if they have titanium sporks in stock.

Who knew the theft of Hans's golf clubs would turn out to be so beneficial to me?

Oh, yeah. I won't get a good parking space for weeks for all the Kharmic Green Stamps I've cashed in.

[SUMMARY: Somewhere a Buddhist rolls in his grave.]

*************

Oh, cripes. The boss just called and one of my clients%%% is flying in from Houston at 6:00 tonight and is staying at the Brown Palace. She wants to have a business dinner at 7:00 at the Brown to get a head start on tomorrows round of meetings.

Fuck.

Y'all know I love me some Brown Palace. What's not to love? It's elegant, well appointed, upscale, cosy, well executed, helpful, has the best spa in the city and they feed and water me about once a month.

But tonight is Drunken Knitting night. And I'd like to have more notice. And I have to go home and change and put on war paint. And I just don't want to.

This is what Ange calls a White Girl Problem.

[SUMMARY: You'll note it's still a problem.]

*************

UPDATE: Hans JUST came back and REI does, indeed, have titanium sporks in stock.

*************

Damnit.

With the Brown Palace field trip tonight, I doubt I'll have the time or inclination to offload my camera. I have such splendid out-my-office-window pictures too...

*************

Dang. You know it's a bad blogday when the footnotes outnumber the actual texts.

I better get laid soon or y'all will never have anything good to read again.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Duh.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Trust me, this hurts me more than it hurts you.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I actually have been knitting. Some. But how many times can you see the same 4x1 red silk rib before you give up on me entirely?

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Not long like my usual prolixity (look it up), but long like watched-pot-not-boiling long.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Heheheh. What do you suppose "respectable" means in terms of pig-licking?

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Oh, and I still do!

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I think I should get credit for the fact that the last office trash story was also under a pig-licking and I didn't try to make it a full post all on its own. I may get writer's block* now and then, but at least I keep office trash politics in perspective.

*FOOTNOTE WITHIN A FOOTNOTE: Thinker's block?

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Note the clever pig tie-in.

§§FOOTNOTE (dizzy... confused...): Can potential be plural?

##FOOTNOTE (numbers. We are talking numbers here.): Or a .44. Or a Glock something millimetre. Doesn't matter. For our purposes, a handgun. Can you tell I'm not much of a gun buff?

¶¶FOOTNOTE (why not just club them?): And one that might not be capitalised in anyone else's world.

%%FOOTNOTE (2 percent!): This was superfluous but so much fun. After all, I could probably do this whole story without ever saying "Ninja Monkeys," but why on earth?

†††FOOTNOTE (cross me again...): Not directly on my boobs, mind you. In fact, it would *have* to be on a t-shirt to be really funny, wouldn't it?

@FOOTNOTE (atted): Kinda like an adult beverage version of Marco Polo.

§§§FOOTNOTE (put a foot on the floor and it will stop spinning): You think I just took a total left turn, don't you? You may even think I've forgotten what story I'm telling. A good pig-licking always contains an element of surprise. Or confusion.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (one iron! three iron! five iron!): You'll love the fact that not only was his insurance agent the one who left his car window open so his golf clubs *could* be stolen, but the dink called him a couple of days later to ask him to go golfing.

###FOOTNOTE (triple pounder. With cheese.): Let this be a lesson: make sure you have a picture of you golfing. Even if you're drunk and have that smeary look on your face. You may be called upon one day to prove you had clubs.

%%%FOOTNOTE (3 percent!): I only have two right now, so every client is a big client.

Bobmas Morning

You know when you toddle out of bed and there's a party hat and a lei on the stairs and the cat is chasing a magic wand, it was a good party.




The Bobmas revelers Ravelers started trickling in early.




Mary Kay brought all the fixings for party hats. I have revamped my list of people a woman should have in her life† to include former pre-school teachers.




She gave me a magic wand. I've always wanted a magic wand.

I used it to try to make the red silk cami reach its tenth inch‡ of 4x1 rib...§






...but I may have used up all the mojo trying to turn a knitter into a sheep.

We had a small Bobmas celebrant.%




KariBeri left her twelve week old son home with her husband for the first time# to join us.




Vanessa tells a hell of a story. And forever endeared herself to me by telling me she hates me for my four-socks-at-once adventure. I consider that high praise.




The Downtown Denver SnB chicas†† made the field trip.




Zoomiejr is between that girl I turned into a sheep and Kari -- she's also a denizen of the DDSnB. And her little dog, Tyler, too.




I counted once, and based on the comings and goings, I'd guess we had fourteen people most of the time, with gusts of up to twenty and a total of twenty-five individuals.




Despite the prevalence of beer glasses, some knitting was done.




I'm very pleased. It was a great bunch with much laughter.




♪♪I'm dreaming of the next Bobmas...♪

'Specially since now I have to go do my taxes.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): A mechanic you can trust, a plumber who can make the flood stop, a good gynecologist...

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Um, yeah. It's currently at about 5 inches.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I'm tired of ribbing. What genius thought it was a pleasure?

%FOOTNOTE (percented, because the paragraph thing isn't working): Skyler. Or Schuyler. Or some other version. I've never seen Skchuyler's name in print, so all apologies to the little lady herself and her mom, the inimitable Steph.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Brave woman. It all turned out OK, though, so... yay, Kari!

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Well, that's Mary Kay on the left, but then aemcdraw, moxieknits and koolkat62 (Ravel-wise) from left to right.