Holy Frozen Wasteland, Batman

Every now and then, I use this very blog as a reference†: which scarf did I knit for Kelley? what was the name of that perfume? what's the proper generic for Zamboni?‡

That one stopped me dead in my tracks Saturday night. I was trying to impart some wisdom on The Twitter, so I hopped to the blog and searched "Zamboni."

Then "Steve."

Then "Ice."

Then I looked through my post index and found - *gasp* - I WENT TO ZAMBONI SCHOOL% AND ALL YOU GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT.§

There may be more of this. One of my great #OldAndFeeble tricks is to set something up so thoroughly in my head that I think I did it. I know I do it with email and occasionally phone calls. I had no idea the blog had fallen victim.

So.

In February, Steve and I went to Ice Camp. We learned the history and mechanics of ice resurfacing equipment¶ in a classroom setting.








Then we did some hands-on# illustration of what the TV told us.










We watched an ice resurfacing machine empty after a productive trip around the rink.




We had photo ops.






Then we drove the beast.

THEN we made ice.††




Dudes, if we were in a disaster movie and the Zamboni operator freaked out or had a heart attack,‡‡ I could totally resurface an ice rink.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): As I'm sure you do.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): A registered trademark of Frank J. Zamboni & Co., Inc.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Like Hogwarts, but more athletic. Also? In fricking FEBRUARY.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): It's actually a cool t-shirt that says "I drove the [picture of a Zamboni] at The Ice Ranch." But you don't actually get it. You have to *earn* it.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Which is the generic of Zamboni.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Literally, though you have to be careful, as there are blades that cut and pumps that suck.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): When you're in the know, you know better than to say you drove the Zamboni. When you're in the know, you make ice.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I think this movie should be made. It should be called "The Ice Marin Cometh."

My Friends at Nintendo in Seattle

Some of you may remember how tired I got of SXSW on The Twitter.

Sorry. There's a chance I was at least that annoying during the Nintendo Ambassador Roundup.†

But, guys, it was SO COOL.

For one, being treated like one is important actually lends to the illusion that one is actually important, and for this one, those illusions are what makes the world go 'round.‡

For two, it was amazing meeting people who are in this particular boat with me.

Many of you may not believe this, but I'm actually kind of shy around people I don't know. I started to dread the whole thing somewhere over Nevada.

Shouldn't have worried.

Brand About Town, a marketing company that does a fantastic job for Nintendo,* flew us in to Seattle Thursday, March 31. There was a reception Thursday night that started out nerve-wracking for me, then became enlightening.

There were *guys* there.

Just for starters.

I came into the Nintendo Ambassador thing under the Girls' Guide to Gaming, which was a marketing push to women who weren't necessarily video gamers.§ The idea was to show that there is more to the Nintendo family than shooting aliens and playing football. You don't have to be a teenage boy to enjoy a nice gaming system.

They created a comfortable, supportive, fun environment for us to try out their product and learn just how much we could get out of it.

Turns out, before there were Girls being Guided in Gaming, there were Wii Families. Somewhere along the line, there were mommy bloggers. And I think there was a sort of community effort, since a couple of people I met got involved via a Boys & Girls Club-type program and through working in a nursing home.

Yeah, this is the kind of stuff that trips my trigger.

Friday, we spent the day at Nintendo America HQ. This pic was provided by Brand About Town as maybe the only sanctioned photo of the building:




You'll note this isn't from our trip. You can tell because there's blue sky. Our trip looked more like this:¶




But none of that matters when you're inside with a bunch of Nintendo nerds and the latest technotoy.

This is Jen. Jen lives in Nederland# and has a food-ish blog. She is a professional photographer, so you really wish you were following her because her pictures are probably much better.




Now, our photog rules were pretty strict but simple: photos only inside the rumpus room, and 3D must be turned off if you take pics of the game. So here's a 2D Nintendog for you:




The 3D-without-glasses on the Nintendo 3DS works basically the same as a View Master. It's essentially an electronic stereopticon. Paired images push your eyes to focus in such a way that it brings depth to the image.††

Besides the 3D gaming, there is a 3D camera and 3D video viewer. We played with those too.

Actually, we played with eight different games in much the same setting as my Girls' Guide to Gaming experience: comfy couches, games to play with and a Nintendo expert to help light the way.




This was our tour guide for Street Fighter. He was nice and helpful,‡‡ but as it turns out I'm a Street Fighter savant, I didn't need too much hand-holding on that one.




I appreciate the 3D on the game, though my tendency to steer the game and wiggle like a banked trout as I beat the snot out of a fellow ambassador can diminish the effect a little.§§ The 3D wasn't the most impressive part to me, though.

I really like the StreetPass feature. You build a Mii avatar for yourself, then if you turn on the communications and allow the flow of information, if you pass someone who has a Nintendo 3DS with StreetPass up and running, it swaps your Miis. The Miis carry puzzle pieces and act as heroes to save your Mii from a dungeon.¶¶

OK, that sounds dorky and weird, but it's very cool. And I tell you, I almost kissed a stranger when I got my first StreetPass friend outside the Nintendo gathering. It was like finding a hundred dollar bill in a rest stop bathroom.

The thing that really blew my mind, though, was the AR cards.% They're freakin' magic. That's all there is to it: magic. How can you play a whole series of games by pointing the camera at a question mark on a card?^

Now, for your dining pleasure, here's the montage of People Enjoying the Nintendo 3DS.##





The President and COO of Nintendo of America, cult figure††† Reggie Fils-Aime, talked to us for awhile about the company and the Nintendo 3DS itself. I'm impressed with the conscience Nintendo showed in testing the 3D and its effect on kids' eyes. Plus, great parental controls.‡‡‡




I also love that the employees I talked to call him "Reggie" and speak like they're basically buddies.+ Not in a creepy, bootlicking way, either. I get the feeling Nintendo is a fabulous place to work.

And I couldn't take pictures, but their building is beautiful and comfortable. Sustainable and green, of course, with really nice bamboo floors. There's a great cafeteria§§§ and a floor that's just for hanging out, meeting and - with a rooftop deck$ - getting a little fresh air.

OTHER COOL THINGS ABOUT THE NINTENDO AMERICA HQ:

1. The building is square and is divided into four equal parts. Each part is represented by a colour and a Nintendo character. It's kinda like airport parking garages, where you remember your car is parked on the blue bear level or the red boot level.
2. There is a Panaboard in one of the conference rooms.& I really, really wanted to play with the Panaboard, but there were enemy ships to sink.
3. Speaking of conference rooms, they're named for iconic game characters and elements.>
   
4. The male/female icons on the bathrooms are Mario character silhouettes rather than those Fisher Price armless people we usually see.

We got a chance to tour the building with a couple of Nintendo employees, who gave us some Nintendo history and personal insight into the company.

Then we got to go shopping in the Nintendo employees' store.¶¶¶

Friday night, there was a small reception while we gathered to have the buses take us to a nice dinner. I went to Anthony's, which is a Seattle chain and maybe not the most avant-garde choice I could make, but I went for the view.




And the fish.###




The trip was a total success for me and I'm excited all over again about the state and direction of technology.

Particularly in technology that makes me the coolest aunt in the world.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Of course, my trip only lasted a couple of days. SXSW was, like, six months.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I may be needier than I like to admit.

*FOOTNOTE (yes, an asterisk): By the way, as cool as it was to find out about Nintendo, I'd like to spend some quality time with Brand About Town people. I suspect their jobs are very, very cool.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): You may recall the series of ads with actresses and their kids and friends. I've never felt so close to Lisa Kudrow.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): In the half-dozen times I've been to Seattle, this is the first time I've ever seen rain. I was beginning to think the rain stereotype was a way to keep tourists away. Kinda like how we use snow in Denver. By the way, that's the company soccer pitch we're walking toward. Yes, there is a Nintendo company soccer pitch.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): A rogue suburb of Boulder.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Go look it up if you want something more scientific.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): And cute!

§§FOOTNOTE (dizziness): You pretty much have to be looking at it straight on or you can see the pictures split. It's disconcerting to be shooting ships from your submarine and you tilt to allow for the motion of the ocean and suddenly you're drunk and seeing two of everything. Other people may not have this problem.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (Street Fighter combo - trust me): And you can earn HATS for your Mii.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Augmented Reality. We could all use a little Augmented Reality, couldn't we?

^FOOTNOTE (careted): MAGIC! Weren't you paying attention?

##FOOTNOTE (couple of extra pounds *ahem*): Insert inspirational soundtrack here. Also: see the fourth picture? That's Sarah and Sammy. Sarah's lots of fun. I'm following her on The Twitter at @pinkshoe. And I don't have a pic of here, but Erini at @myadorkablelife is also on my list. In case you want to be like me.

†††FOOTNOTE (Cross in 3D): When what you say sparks and Internet meme ("My body is ready"), you earn cult figure status. Plus, people who know better than I term his COO-ship at Nintendo the Reggielution. That's cult status.

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (3DDoubleCross): When you want to be sure the Keepers of the Nephews don't cut off your supply, you're very sensitive to things like "age-appropriate" and "parental controls."

+FOOTNOTE (plussed): One of our tour guides told us that when Reggie's in his office, people go by waving their Nintendo 3DSs hoping to get his Mii on their StreetPass. THAT'S cult status.

§§§FOOTNOTE (3DSwirly): With the coolest soda machine ever. A little elevator travels up to your choice (A12, for instance) and slides under it, then moves down, then right, then angles your drink so it slides at a 45-deg angle into the delivery slot, where it is presented to you. I could have spent all day plugging dollars into the machine and watching it. I may be Nintendo's perfect Guinea pig.

$FOOTNOTE (moneyed): A *living* rooftop. Plus, the conference room and areas up there are named after Prisoner of Zelda characters.

&FOOTNOTE (ampersanded): Maybe in all of them. I was only in one, and it had a Panaboard.

>FOOTNOTE (greatered): My favourite: Another Castle.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (Paragraph in 3D): A certain indulgent aunt may have purchased two Nintendo 3DS's for certain indulged nephews.

###FOOTNOTE (3DPound): The fish is wearing a Seattle Mariner's cap, for those of you scoring at home.

Word of the Day

Hey, look! It's my middle name!†


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Those footnotes aren't just for decoration, baby.‡

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Plus, Marin Anacoluthia Untiedt has such a nice ring to it.

Tuesday, Tuesday... la laa la l-la laaaaaa

I played hooky yesterday. It was marvelous.

For some reason, sitting around knitting and reading and communing with the North 40 is just so much better when I realise Hans is in the office working.

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

You know what those 13 little stars mean... we're going to lick the pig!

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

This is not my story to tell, but I feel I must relate it anyway.† Many of you don't know Mary Beth and most of you weren't there when she was telling it. I feel I would be remiss if I didn't spread the word.

Wherever you live, there's a good chance the question of urban chicken coops has come up recently. I thought it was that way in Denver because of recent changes to city ordinances, but it turns out it's just part of this big push toward organic self-sufficiency.

Anyway, Mary Beth is going to raise chickens. Which takes a lot of paperwork and governmental meddling.

First, she had to be issued the application from Community Planning and Development and Neighborhood Inspection Services. The completed application was then filed with Animal Control.

Somewhere in here, she bult a chicken coop which apparently rivals the Ritz Carlton and Mary Beth wants to move into it herself and maybe let the chickens have the run of her house.

Animal Control did a home visit to see that the chickens would be clean, comfortable and pest-free. She was approved for six chickens, a feat only slightly less bureaucratically arduous than fostering a human child.

THEN she paid $50 for a chicken permit.‡

Finally, she ordered -- I love this part -- an assortment of chicks.% Which come by post. From mypetchicken.com.

Getting on the Internet and ordering the six chicken assortment and "mypetchicken-dot-com" made me so happy. Some days, just knowing things *exist* out there is totally happy-making.

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

You will all be delighted to know the sleeves of the guitar sweater for TFN's birthday are on their holders§ and I'm roaring down the sweater body with speed and something approaching accuracy.

Intarsia also makes me happy.¶ Frankly, I'm usually not that big on the look of a lot of it, but it's engaging knitting, the kind where time flies.

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

I'm beginning to think the new Big Girl Phone may be too much phone for me.

I'm wondering if I want to be *that* connected. Ah, well. I signed a contract. I'll live with it for a couple of years and probably become one of those asshole people who can't leave her phone alone for two minutes and insists on texting at her own wedding.#

It does take nice pictures, doesn't it?

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

My father is getting married August 22nd. I am in charge of two things: the music for the wedding itself†† and the food‡‡ for the "bachelor party"§§ the night before.

I'm kinda hoping I get some ripe tomatoes from my garden before then.¶¶

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

Speaking of gardening, did you know cucumbers don't put out big root systems? They have to be watered more frequently than, say, tomatoes or peppers because they won't go looking for the water, you have to take the water to them.##

This was a lesson hard-learned. I lost many baby cucumbers††† before I read that particular bit of cucumber wisdom.

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

[SARAH! DON'T LOOK! AVERT YOUR EYES!]

Hammacher-Schlemmer apparently heard from my nephews about my spider preferences. They sent me an email about this today.




I'm assuming Batman is posing under the spider arbour rather than Spiderman because he's better colour-coordinated...?

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

No. 4: Diagonal - Gareth Pugh & Emilie Coppermann (Part 4 in the series)@

Marin says: Dill! Seconds of dill, then off to a very close-to-the-skin, very warm woody scent that could be a spice or richer floral tempered by a delicate amber. I certainly like it, which is good since nobody else is likely to know it's there.

For the record, I put this on mid-afternoon and the next morning I still had a very steady amber/musk finish clinging to my wrists. This would be great for long meeting days when I don't necessarily want to be remembered for my perfume, but I may still need surreptitious sniff during water breaks to boost morale.

Six Scents says: "Contrast, ambiguity, duality. Gareth Pugh said about his style: "it's a struggle between lightness and darkness." this is what I tried to translate in this perfume. The contrast between different raw materials, masculine and feminine, rough and smooth, dark and light, fresh and sensual." - Emilie Coppermann, Perfumer

Ingredients: Dill,$ Black Pepper, Nutmeg, Palissander, Black Tea, Amyris, White Amber,$ Musk.$

Hans says: Well, now, that smells like some kind of food. Mushroom? Fried mushroom? Actually, it doesn't smell like mushroom at all, but I'm sticking with it.

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

Speaking of Hans, he went to his college roommate's wedding this weekend. The photographer had a ring of lights thing set up, so the wedding guests took turns seeing who could take the best cheesy prom photo.



I believe Hans and Trav‡‡‡ win.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): If nothing else, it's the foundation for this whole pig-licking and I couldn't very well leave it out.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Annual. $50 a year for a chicken permit. You have to pay $50 every year for your chicken permit. By "you," I mean, "Mary Beth." I just love saying "chicken permit."

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Apparently, chicks can live without food through the first 72 hours after they hatch so they can be packed up in boxes and mailed.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): In the grand tradition of circus knitting, I am going to attempt to knit both sleeves at once on two circular needles, in situ. I see no reason it can't be done. Speaking of circus knitting, did you see some guy at Sock Summit was knitting seven pairs at once? Hmph. Been there, done that -- way ahead of you, big guy. I guess if SOME OF US had just gutted up and gone to Sock Summit, we could be famous for our Xtreme Knitting too.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): And intarsia in the round makes me feel like a superhero.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): This is not an immediate danger, just an example.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): The temptation to abuse this power is fierce. I could do two hours of very pointed songs. I won't, of course... the Electric Slide will almost undoubtedly feature, but I *could* propagandise.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I'm thinking a couple of homemade pizzas, a big ol' salad, some finger food in case a poker game breaks out and a cherry pie made from cherries I picked myself. Hi! Remember me? Susie F. Homemaker?

§§FOOTNOTE (backhanded bachelor party): In quotes because, as Brother said, "You have to have some kind of activity, but clearly we won't be making the bachelor do shots of Jager until he barfs, and the standard substitutes (like paintball) probably won't work..." There will, of course, be no naked girls. Or boys. Or porn of any kind. So it's not so much a bachelor party as a "get Dad from underfoot so the evil stepsister doesn't kill him before the wedding" gig.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (round, ripe tomatoes on the vine): Not quite so much because I'm looking for quality ingredients as I'd like to show off.

##FOOTNOTE (cucumber trellis): Thank you, Dr. Science!

†††FOOTNOTE (stake the cucumbers!): Very sad -- they go dark brown and crispy.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): You should go check out Nathan's pictures of the packaging. Kinda freaky, in a skully-good sort of way.

$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): And if I weren't so lazy at the moment, I'd Google "palissander" to see if it might qualify as "woody."

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (long and winding road): Trav is a friend of the groom's from out of town. Hans found him delightful.

A Tale of Three Sweaters

I figure I should leap in after a prolonged absence with knitting. 'Cause knitting still makes it all better, right?

[SUMMARY: Behold the awesome power of knitting.†]

So I checked with eBeth on what the Tallest Fuzziest‡ Nephew might like, knit-wise, for his ninth birthday.§

He loved the sweater last year, so I'm making him a new one this year. This time, I'm going raglan so I don't have to block and piece and sew and be an hour late to dinner again.

This:



is the graphic from a bag in Greetings From the Knit Café, which I've turned on end and graphed for the sweater. In a fit of creative malaise, I'm going with roughly the same colours in Cascade 220.¶

Turns out kids' sizing is a little weird. Or my pattern sizing was a little weird. Or maybe a charming amalgam# of the two.

To make a long story short, I ended up knitting a 34" chest, which seems ENORMOUS, vis-a-vis my makes-Kate-Moss-look-like-a-Russian-women's-shotput-champion nephew.

The first time I cast on, I did it under the auspices of a size 12, which is a 28" chest on my chart.

So I frogged.

[SUMMARY: Say goodbye to Sweater One.%]

I cast on again, placing my B markers for the center front increases and my A markers for the raglan sleeve increases. I roared through seven inches of sweater by Sunday evening.

[SUMMARY: I have superpowers.††]

The growing smugness I felt at having mastered some version of intarsia in the round‡‡ should've been a BIG clue as to where my hubris was leading me.§§

When I picked it up Monday evening, I heard a tiny *ping*, a delicate warning bell somewhere in the back of my head.

I knit a round.

*ping*

I knit another.

*PING"

I mused as to why one would remove the B markers, per the instructions, when one still had to do the raglan increases every other round...

*PINGDAMNIT!*

That was the sound of me finally realising I'd been increasing at the B markers for the raglan and ignoring the raglan sleeve increases entirely. One-fourth of a sweater... unusable.

[SUMMARY: Ask not for whom the brain pings.]

So I frogged it, a much harder task with two balls¶¶ and a couple of intarsia strands hanging around.

Last night, I cast on for the last time.##

[SUMMARY: Say hello to Sweater Three.]

If this one doesn't work out, the kid is getting a potholder.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): And pay no attention to the Marin behind the curtain!

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): He shaved off the mohawk. I told him he has to stop changing hairstyles now so I don't have to find a new name for him every week. First person who points out the folly of using wild and mutable hair as the basis for a lasting nickname gets it in the nose.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): August 29.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Superwash, of course. Providing hand-wash-only sweaters for a nine-year-old is a good way to never be invited back.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): This is my favourite word today: amalgam.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Which was going to happen anyway, because I'd just realised I had, for the first time in my entire knitting career, TWISTED THE STITCHES WHEN I JOINED IN THE ROUND. This sweater is cursed.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): When the radioactive kitten bit me (which really happened, other than the radioactive part... probably), I really was hoping for the ability to climb drapes or lick my own ears or even just sleep wherever I wanted. I guess if some fascination for string is the extent of it, at least I'm no worse off than I was before.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Actually, doing intarsia in the round successfully makes me feel like a superhero.

§§FOOTNOTE (the twisting vines of hubris): One's hubris can get one in such trouble.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (two balls... heheheh): *Beavisgiggle*

##FOOTNOTE (two pounds - my head hitting the wall and the wall hitting my head): Other than realising when I joined in the round after the neck increases I forgot to cast on the other 13 stitches... but I don't think I'll have to frog for that. Just go back a couple of rows. This sweater is definitely cursed.

The Promise of Spring*

When we got our seedlings from eBeth a month ago or so, I killed one of mine.% I knocked it over right there in eBeth's kitchen, burying its fragile leaves and delicate stem under a honking pile† of potting soil, compost and perlite.

I took it home and propped it up on a bamboo skewer,‡ but the next morning it wasn't even a green smear in the earth. So I planted a cucumber seed in its place§ and went on with my life.

[SUMMARY: To everything, turn, turn, turn...]

A couple of days later, I took my remaining six tomato plants outside to harden them.¶ Carefully following instructions,# I left them in the May sunshine for an hour then brought them in.

They were all noticably yellowed and a couple had brownish-greyish spots on them. I had burned my poor little tomatoes.†† Not fatal, as it turns out, but very sad. With all the rain we've had in Denverish lately, I couldn't take them out much, so they had a chance to recover in peace.

All but the littlest one recovered. It continued to look miserable. Alive, but miserable.

Sunday morning‡‡ I decided to take a trip to the garden center§§ for some herbs and another cucumber and I figured a good, solid beefsteak tomato would be a nice addition¶¶ to the more colourful heirlooms I already had.

I stopped to visit the plants on the way out and that tiny, spindly tomato -- a brandywine -- was more pathetic than ever. It was plastered to its bamboo stake and transluscent like wilted lettuce. I stroked it gently## and decided to get another brandywine at the garden center.

[SUMMARY: I'm both sentimental and practical.]

"After all, self," I said to myself, "if the spindly little guy makes it, you'll have that many more tomatoes to can. This can't be a bad thing."

The demon in the back of my brain was screaming, "It's going to DIE! You killed ANOTHER ONE! Are we there yet? There is NO HOPE! Can we get ice cream?"†††

Until that sickly tomato actually disappeared, I wasn't willing to give up on it. I put it out with the others Sunday for a full day of sun and fresh air. I brought it in at night and there it's stayed through a rainy Monday and Tuesday.

Today, there's a new leaf.‡‡‡ And it's standing on its own, tiny and delicate, but upright. And the leaves are growing out from the stem§§§ instead of hanging down in a most untomato-like way.

[SUMMARY: Cue the Handel! Sing out, Messiah! Hallelujah!]

As a chick who clicked her car fob at the electronic entry point on the office door *four times* before figuring out why the door wasn't unlocking,¶¶¶ I find this tale of hope and resurrection### very comforting.


*FOOTNOTE (asterisked, oddly enough): hearts and flowers... lalala...

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Well, it wasn't really mine until I wrecked it.

†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Honking if you're a quarter of an inch tall and have the tensile strength of bunny fur.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): All my tiny tomato plants have tiny bamboo stakes I made out of vegetable skewers. That's very nearly ironic, isn't it?

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Which had two leaves three days later, so I like to think its tragic end wasn't for naught.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): It's like plant porn.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Apparently not carefully enough to read to the part where one should put them in dappled sunlight to start.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): The next day, there was a flurry of emails from the group of us intrepid gardeners. I wasn't the only one who burned her seedling.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I woke up at 7 frickin' o'clock. And went back to sleep. And when I woke up, I figured it was 10:00 and I'd better get moving or I'd lose the whole day. I went to the garden center, the office supply store, the pet supply store, Home Depot and Chipotle and was home by 11:00. Did daylight savings time end Sunday? I'm pretty sure I got an extra hour. At least.

§§FOOTNOTE (tendrils): The beauty of a new hobby is the wide vistas of new shopping it spreads out before you.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (sprinkler heads): For those of you wondering what a single chick needs with six tomato plants, I will be canning. Just call me Betty Crocker.

##FOOTNOTE (trellises): Because stroking your plants is a professional gardener-approved addition to the hardening process. Heheheheheheh. Plant fluffer.

†††FOOTNOTE (stakes): My inner demon is four.

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (oregano!): I have yet to turn it over. *rimshot*

§§§FOOTNOTE (garden twine): OK, it still looks a little like a weeping willow (weeping tomato?), but it's noticably perkier.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (bulbs): If any of the PTB had seen me, I believe they would have fired me on the spot. After they stopped laughing, of course.

###FOOTNOTE (row markers): Dudes, wouldn't resurrection be a SPECTACULAR add to my saintly résumé?

Dear Innernets

Screw Katy Perry -- I kissed a boy and I liked it.

Kntting is a Craft, Right?

You Would Be a Crafty Superhero

You are naturally curious and even a bit of a snoop. You like to have dirt on everyone - both enemies and friends. You need a lot of freedom in your life. You like to do your own thing, and you don't fit into any normal mold. Through lots of life experience, you understand the world well. You can often predict what people will do before they even think of doing it. You are a shapeshifter who fits in with almost any group. You can get along with anyone. You're quite flexible. You are a true philosopher. You are thirsty for wisdom. You are trying to figure out the meaning of life.

What Kind of Superhero Would You Be?

Dear Friends and Family,

Nathan Branch just tweeted, and I quote: "I out-meta'd Marin! I took a screenshot of a twitter and posted it on my blog. Top that, AntiM!"




I am a danger to myself and possibly others† when double-dog dared, so I give you the uber-meta Marin challenge winner:

I tweeted from my cell phone, then took a picture of the Twitter feed on my blog with said cell phone, sent it to my online album and posted it back here on the blog.

How much more meta can you get than that?‡

Nathan, you have been served. And I believe the word you were looking for in relation to my big brass balls? Classic. Or maybe epic... yeah, epic should cover it.§


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I'm not as smart as I look. This is *really* saying something.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): None. None more meta!

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): The trash-talking is beyond my wildest dreams. This *must* be what it feels like to have a penis.

First Meme in a Brave New Year

I *like* this one.

I am, as ever, aware that a meme is something of a cop-out, but this is one of the best I've seen, so I'm giving myself a pass.†

Besides, there's a month's worth of pictures in the camera and you'll get much better blogquality with pictures.‡

I would like to kick in two little non-meme notes before I head into the land of the highly directed:

1. I am a *headline*. I wouldn't even mention it, of course,§ only I think you would really enjoy the photos in the post itself,% and
2. Kim noticed I had the same number of posts in 2008 as 2007. I kinda hope I manage to land on that same number this year, though I fear some version of Heisenberg's Principle^ will taint the results.

1. Where did you begin 2008? Alone, in my chair.¶
2. What was your status by Valentines Day? Is this a sick joke? 41 years with no Valentine,@ and thanks for reminding me of that.
3. Were you in school anytime this year? Cheerfully, no.
4. Did you have to go to the hospital? Twice, both planned.#
5. Did you have any encounters with the police? Not even an expired plate incident.
6. Where did you go on vacation? The Lake. Just the Lake. It was a pretty staid year.
7. What did you purchase that was over $100? Addi Clicks, a carpet steamer... OK, in 2009 I'm getting a hooker†† or something.
8. Did you know anybody who got married? At least one.
9. Did you know anybody who passed away? Probably more than got married.‡‡
10. Did you move anywhere? No, and I will be buried in the basement of this house.
11. What sporting events did you attend? I somehow managed to miss seeing the Nuggets this year, but I saw the Broncos (bleah), Rockies and Avs. One trip to the Avs was even knitting-related.
12. What concerts/shows did you go to? Rush,§§ Queensryche,¶¶ Mitch Fatel,## Sisters of Mercy.††† Wow. I'm pretty sure I'm not NEARLY as stuck in the geekworld as I sound, given that list.
13. Describe your birthday. It was oddly good. Wholly unplanned, and surprisingly complete.
14. What is the ONE thing you thought you would not do, but did, in 2008? Go back to Stevens Point, WI.
15. What have been your favorite moments? The aforementioned birthday, making friends with my heroes, finding heroes in my friends.
16. Any new additions to your family? Not yet.‡‡‡
17. What was your best month? I'm sure it must've been June.
18. Who has been your best drinking buddy? Bag Lady Katharyn.
19. Made new friends? A few.
20. Favorite night out? The spelling bee.
21. Other than home, where did you spend most of your time? Work. Seriously... a hooker in 2009.
22. Have you lost any friends this year? One or two, depending on how you count it.
23. Change your hairstyle? I haven't cut it all year, so sort of. Does having no style count as a style?
24. Have any car accidents? Not one.
25. How old did you turn this year? 41. After 40, it's all cake.
26. Do you have a New Years resolution? I haven't decided yet. Cheesy waste of time or well-timed opportunity? Baby steps or massive overhaul?
27. Do anything embarrassing? Not really -- mostly because part of the Dork Credo says it's better to laugh with those people laughing at you than slink away with a red face.
28. Buy anything from eBay? The Lion that Saved Christmas.
29. Get married or divorced? Nope.
30. Get hit on? Several times. Yay, me!
31. Been snowboarding? No... and I wouldn't hold your breath on that one.§§§
32. Did you get sick this year? Once or twice.
33. Are you happy to see 2008 go? Ambivalent.
34. Been naughty or nice? All of the above.
35. What are you looking forward to most in 2009? Maybe that hooker...

Found at Ms. Kitty's blog.

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

I learned something here today: I *really* need to get out more.

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

Cruel Intentions -- By Killian

Marin says: I'm in love. I thought I loved Black Tourmaline. I thought I loved Black Cashmere.

That was clearly puppy love.

Not only does this flow through an amazing tale of citrus and woods, it stays for more than 24 hours, with the best last breath of any perfume I've ever tried. Where most fade into a similar sweetish vanilla-amber thing, this one is a slightly woody spicy glory that had me waking up to snork my wrists the morning after I first dabbed it on.

It reads as a sort of incense, but not smoky and not too churchy -- must be the wood resins. There's a touch of sandalwood, not enough to get to that headshop place, but just the right amount. Baby bear sandalwood.

This is rich and resinous without being overpowering, round and woody without being bland. It's classic and well-crafted by turns, without being passé. It's spicy without being foody.¶¶¶ It's a dozen things I love and a dozen things I think I don't like, but balanced so perfectly I love it all.

Did I mention I love it?

Hans *has* to smell this...

By Killan### says: A fragrance inspired by the warm, enfolding balsamic notes of Oud, a legendary wood said to be « worth more than its weight in gold ».


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): If I don't, who will?

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): That's my story and I'm sticking with it.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Of COURSE, I wouldn't want to brag about the source because it's only Nathan Branch, he of the impeccable taste, the way with words, the photographic genius, the cachet of one who gets Ormonde Jayne in 50ml sample size... *gushgushgush* Juno turned me on to him, Sylvia and Rosie need to read him.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): ...and may happily consider a bunny skull belt buckle.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): The variables being the number of posts and my ability to spontaneously reach that number in a given year.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Which is exactly where I started 2009. I think. Maybe I was at Patrick Carroll's... oh, hell. I just need to get out more.

@FOONOTE (atted): Also, I've never had a boyfriend at Christmas or my birthday and I've never had sex in November. Maybe I've just found the beginnings of a list of resolutions.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): As opposed to emergent ccare. I think I'd have to get out of the house to earn emergent care.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Gigolo? Is there a better word?

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): None of you is allowed to die this year. I need a year without fresh mourning.

§§FOOTNOTE (very twisted): Which just cemented my dorkified, never-ending love of Rush, so marvelous was the concert.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (clubs of the 80s): Still like them, vocals still good, Geoff Tate has no sense of humour about himself, his music, possibly anything else... and I found that a little sad.

##FOOTNOTE (pounding like that vein in my temple): Eh. I thought he'd be better. I still laughed. I did come to the conclusion comedians should refresh their material before they tour.

†††FOOTNOTE (how gothic): Who are unerringly awful in concert and, in fact, use so much fog that one is hard-pressed to swear there are even musicians on stage. Yet, I will go every time I get a chance because it always reminds me of how much I like the music. So I go home and listen to the good versions on my iPod. Besides, some day I'm actually going to see Andrew Eldritch. And for the record, I totally disagree with the linked review about one thing: It was NOT looped. The last time I was them saw almost undoubtedly pre-recorded, but this time it was too *off* to be recorded. Sometimes it sounded like the guitarist was playing one song while Andy was singing another, it was that off.

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (the tracks of my tears -- have I already used that one?): Dad's engaged. There's a whole stepfamily waiting in the wings.

§§§FOOTNOTE (sssnowboarding): I tried snowboarding once. I took a group lesson with a bunch of six-year-olds with no gravity and no fear and they passed me off to another instructor for one-on-one training (when you're holding the first graders back, you should probably pack it in) and at one point, I actually sat in the snow and beat my little fists on its crust in frustration. At some point, the instructor asked if I was done for the day (it should be noted I was finally sort of getting it sort of) and I said, "yes." So he called Ski Patrol and they TOOK ME DOWN ON A STRETCHER. I considered being embarrassed, but I figured the people watching me hauled down behind a snowmobile didn't know I didn't break my leg, so I took to waving as I went by. Anyway, I'm not all that eager to try snowboarding again.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (a kiss or a kick -- either way, it's love): Which is important. A lot of spicy scents smell like cinnamon and cloves and, while I like those smells, I tend to think of them as "better as potpourri."

###FOOTNOTE (3D tictactoe): The By Killian site is cool -- it gives an actual list of ingredients. Check it out.

Break a Leg

No, don't.†

At least that's what Mom always used to tell me when I'd start a day's skiing.

"When we were in Gunnison,‡ the broken legs always started coming in around 5:30 because those skiers had to get one. last. run. in before the lifts closed and they were too tired. You don't need to take that last run."

If Mom was watching me knit lace, she'd probably say the same thing.

[SUMMARY: Holidays bring out the Mom in me.]

I swear it's two steps forward, one back.

Or sometimes one forward, three back.§ Depends on how late I'm lace knitting.

[SUMMARY: Maths. It sounds like maths.¶]

See, it's a 10-row pattern. I try to always work five rows at a time so I know where to start when I pick it up again.

Except sometimes I'm all groovy and rhythm-addled and I think I should finish a whole pattern or start a new one at, say, 10:00.

That's where the trouble starts.

Currently, I am ignoring the Purple Prose scarf, as I appear to have dropped a stitch that ran down three or four rows and I haven't had the motivation or presence of mind to sit down and figure out where the YOs are and where the k2togs are so I can pick it up all pretty.

I also haven't been able to bring myself to frog and tink my way back to pristine ground.

I *really* need to start a mindless knitting project so I have something to do after ten o'clock that won't land me in the metaphorical ER.

[SUMMARY: Deep. Very deep for a Tuesday.]

Anyway, just thought I'd let you know I'm still knitting.#

XOXO
M

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

Cabaret - Grès (edp)

Marin says: This perfume is confirming and solidifying an internal game I play with myself.% You've played along too, but maybe you didn't know it.

There are scents that are remarkably similar, only I *think* most people wouldn't agree. I can't think of any off the top of my head, except... this is supposed to be a woody rose or a rose chypre,†† depending on who you read, but I get a remarkably transparent patchouli.

Patchouli was my first guess,‡‡ and when I read roseroserose§§ all over the Innernets, I closed my eyes, breathed deep and said, "Oh, yeah. I can see that."¶¶ Some roses do have that itchy, sharp, camphoresque smell like patchouli. But this one isn't as thick and wet as "other" patchoulis -- it's dry and, yes, woody. Like rose and cedar, maybe.

Which, by the by, smells like a remarkably transparent patchouli.

It starts in camphor, spreads out into a dry, pencil shaving cedar with a hint of something sweeter, then brings the powder up from the rose as the amber rounds up from the depths to finish it off.

I rather like it.^ And it falls in the increasingly rare category## of "wearable" for me.

Grès says: Michel Almairac, the famous perfume creator, has pursued his vision to create a new classic based on rare natural materials. The result is a truly exceptional woody-floral fragrance with an ambery inflexion.

Hans says: I'm losing it. They're all starting to smell alike. Unless... is this a popular thing? [yes] It smells familiar. That's what I have to say about it. It's familiar. What is it? [well, I get a lot of camphor, so it's probably patchouli]. Yeah! I get camphor too. You can tell them I get that too. [You know I quote you directly, right?]†††


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I have some weird theatre-skiing continuum scrambling my clever cortex right now. I need an Advil.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Ski college town. Hatching ground of your dear ol' AntiM. And where I went to college. Legend has it it's where I must go to spawn and die.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I'm very suspicious there's a lot of four in there, actually.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): And fours.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Which makes this... still a knitblog!

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Raise your hands: who went all twelve on me there? Besides the playing with myself thing, this also marks the taking of my little perfume hobby to a whole new level: decanting and swapping perfumes. This is in a batch of perfumes recently swapped with my very worst influences. Yay, obsession!

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): And if I had bothered to brush up on chypre *before* I linked it for your convenience I might have noticed three things:

1. Chypre is French for cypress, and cypress is a sharpish scent that, according to some very welcome knowledge laid upon me by the inimitable Nathan Branch, may have some aesthetic common ground with camphor/patchouli, being sharpish,
2. Modern chypres may include patchouli, and
3. Saying "woody rose" and "rose chypre" is a little like trying to distinguish between a cheese sandwich and bread with cheese.

I'll do my research up front next time. You're welcome.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): And it may have to do with having just read Nathan's (yes, I feel we're on a first name basis) email on benzoin vs. camphor vis-a-vis patchouli. Hey, if I wasn't a slave to the power of suggestion, I wouldn't be so enthralled by Limited Edition! Limited Quantities! Goodie bag for the first fifty attendees!

§§FOOTNOTE (spiralling petals): That one's for you, Mary Kay.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (like stoppers in a flacon, so are the days of our lives): Um... smell that.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): And I love the bottle, as pictured on the website:




##FOOTNOTE (there's my pounds of flesh): You know how people tell their kids some things are for holding and some things are for looking? Well, the more I smell, the more I think some perfumes are for sniffing and some are for wearing. And those that are for sniffing aren't all bad -- just not our kind, darling.

†††FOOTNOTE (triple dipping): All this took place before I did my research, of course. Hans has been subsequently educated.

It's Like This, Cat:

Bag Lady Kathryn wanted to have dinner at the Coral Room last night,† but she bolted before I was finished with my wine,‡ so I said I was going to hang around for a few minutes.

Then George§ and Candice came in with Dena and they invited me to come sit with them and I did and we got to talking and drinking and drinking and then they wanted to go down to High Pac and listen to some band from Alabama and did I want to come and I did and then it was 1:30 in the morning, so...

...it's 7:30 and I'm going to go knit in front of the Olympics for a brief spell and go to bed early.

Welcome to another scorching hot Friday night at Chez Barfly.

*************
Miskatonic University - Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab

Marin says: I am in love with myself again.

Well, mostly I'm in love with my wrists.

The coffee smell is heavenly and somehow buttery. I feel like a Werther's candy.

As it spreads and mellows, I'm getting more old paper and wood. I can actually smell that slightly sweet, musty-woody scent of books yellowed with age.

The buttery note is fading into leather or floorwax or some other slightly oily, tangy scent. Oh, wait... definitely leather. Leather and old books with a cup of coffee with cream -- just gone cold¶ -- sitting nearby.

Oh! Wait! I got it! My dad has smoked a pipe for years. He has pipe tobacco that smells like this -- kinda woody and sweet. Gosh, I'm happy right now.

BPAL says: The scent of Irish coffee, dusty tomes# and polished oakwood halls.$

Hans says: "I can smell it from here.†† It smells like caramel."

[international Hans sign for "bring me your wrist."]

"Oh, yeah. Caramel to the max."‡‡


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I fully intend to blame this whole thing on Kathryn.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): She had to pack for an early morning flight -- it's not like she abandoned me, though in the spirit of "blaming this on Kathryn," I think it's downright saintly for me to admit this.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): George and I are going to open a brothel in Rifle, Colorado. We're going to make a billion dollars of the oil roughnecks, then I'm going to get indicted and write a sexy, scathing, tell-all book about my experience and retire to the House of Fuzzy Crack.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Cold coffee smells different from hot coffee.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): OK, I'd read this and remember the coffee and books part, so it's not like I was a genius about picking out notes.

$FOOTNOTE (right on the money): Ha! Got one! I didn't remember the part about the polished floors, but I did say "floorwax."

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): The doorway.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): On beyond "soap."

A Little AntiM Wisdom

Gather 'round children.

*WAIT!*

Not too close... it's a hundred and two frickin' degrees outside† and I don't need the body heat right now.‡

Which brings me to the topic of today's sage advice§:

Heat sucks. Cold is dandy.

Before you try to disagree, mull this:

If it gets cold, you can put on a sweater, a jacket, wooly socks, down comforter, multiple dogs, Brazilian houseboy.¶

If it gets hot, you can only get so naked.#


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): That's me, just to the left of the red. But it's only 7% humidity, so it's a *dry* heat. And windy. So it's like living in a convection oven.




p.s. -- don't let them fool you with that pussy orange 90-something colour; it's over a hundred here.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Not from a bunch of knee-biting rug rats, in any case.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I am Queen of Segueways!

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Not necessarily in that order.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Trust me, I've tried.

Bad, Bad Influence

I have been accused by more than one person *coughSylviacoughRosie* of leading them down the primrose path† to perfume-driven bankruptcy.‡

Hell, if I'm gonna do the time, I'm gonna do the crime.§

The Perfumed Court, my all-time favourite source for scents, is having an anniversary sale.

Today until midnight, 20% off your entire order.¶

Tomorrow through August 11, 10% off your entire order.#

Go forth and scentify.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Or the tuberose path. Or the patchouli path. Or the citrus path. It's your path, you perfume it however you want.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): At least of eating into the shoes-and-yarn budget.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): If scenting the world be a crime, let me be guilty!

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): code: TPCAnniversary

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Midnight to midnight. Code: tpconeyear

Summertime and the Livin's Breezy

In the adrenaline rush that comes from believing I have superpowers, I finished frogging† the Father's Day‡ Arrrgyles at the bar last night.§




[SUMMARY: Knitting content two days running. This may be a record.]

On the way home,¶ I stopped off at the newish Red Trolley ice cream shoppe# to sample their product.††

I feel kinda bad for them because they opened around the same time as Little Man -- media darling and neighbourhood hot spot -- but they're just not getting the same buzz.

I like Red Trolley better.‡‡

The adorable dreadlocked blonde girl who waited on me was nice as could be, the ice cream was outstanding and the shoppe is just darned cute -- marble and wood, kinda like an old-fashioned soda fountain.

[SUMMARY: Packaging counts.]

Besides, they have these cups that fit perfectly in the modified-for-American-sodas§§ cup holder in CLCWWW.¶¶




And you get a cookie.

And they're closer than Little Man.

Besides, I always cheer for the underdog.##

*************
Neil Morris Signature Collection - Gotham parfum

Marin says: *sigh* Again, anything oil-based has that heavy smell of smoke, incense, amber, myrrh... whatever it is, it doesn't make me all that happy. The smoky damp cloud on my wrist started out, once again, reminiscent of toilet paper or Ti-D-Bowl to my nose.

I'll admit it's mellowed around the edges over the hours and deepened and flowered. It smells like a California redwood forest near the ocean -- cedar and salt-spray, and I do like that part. If I hold my nose a couple of inches from my skin, I get a hint of rose.

Oils are still just too warm and thick for my liking. Is there some way to cut this stuff to suit my aesthetic?

The Perfumed Court says: One of Neil Morris Vault Scents%, Gotham is based on a memory of an October night in NYC - unusually warm and overcast and foggy, with a sense of mystery and things hidden in the dark.

Gotham has notes of Black Pepper, Yuzu, Rose,$ Narcissus,^ Amber, Pearl Musk, Myrtlewood, Tonka absolute, Labdanum, Russian Leather, Redwood,$ and Ambergris.

Neil Morris says: My inspiration for Gotham was a stroll along a street in Manhattan on what could only be described as a summer evening except for the fact that it was late October! It was unusually warm and overcast evening. It was a bit foggy and the atmosphere had a sense of mystery and of things hidden in the night. All in all a magical evening.

Gotham opens with Top Notes of Black Pepper and Yuzu that merge with Heart Notes of Rose and Narcissus. The Base Notes include Ambergris, Myrtlewood, Russian Leather, Amber and Labdanum.@

Hans says: Psyche! Hans says nothing! Hans is out golfing the Mountain Course at the Broadmoor and can't come to my wrist right now. We'll have to try back later.
*************


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Well, some sort of mentally challenged frog with a limp or something. It goes "rip-it, rip... bam. knot! *shuffleyank* *snap!* rip-it, rip-it, rrrrrrrrrrrreeekk! fuck! KNOT!..."

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): *cough2007cough*

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Beer helped.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Well, only a couple of miles out of the way. In the opposite direction.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Charming neighbourhood ice cream stores that make their own ice cream every day in-house should always be honoured with a double-p-e spelling.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Y'know... in the name of fairness and letting the people know and stuff.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): In my vast experience of having tasted two flavours at each shoppe. But both the Red Trolley flavours were outstanding and one of the Little Man flavours tasted like potpourri. For the record: Red Trolley -- banana bread ice cream and bing cherry hazlenut chip ice cream. Little Man -- firecracker blueberry cinnamon (aka - potpourri) sorbet and ginger gelato.

§§FOOTNOTE (this'll turn your head): No lie. The big complaint out of the American market was that the Mini couldn't accommodate a Big Gulp. Ah, well. The gluttony of the masses allows for ice cream transportation for me. Thank you, gluttonous masses.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (aw, it looks like two little taste spoons): Where you can see I'm keeping the AC at 60 degrees, my tank is nearly full, I'm listening to a song called, "I'm a Vampire" and the Red Trolley is at an altitude of 5320'. Also, I haven't dusted in awhile.

##FOOTNOTE (how many I intend to gain taste-testing ice cream in the 'hood): Unless, y'know, it's the Raiders. Or my team happens to be the overdog. But all other things being equal, I'm behind the underdog all the way. Did I mention training camp started last week? And the dark days of summer are almost over?




%FOOTNOTE (percented): Actually, it's not. I went to the Neil Morris site to get the Neil Morris take on this Neil Morris creation and it turns out Neil Morris doesn't agree with the Perfumed Court. I'm going with Neil Morris on this one. After all, it is a Neil Morris Signature Collection scent.

$FOOTNOTE (moneyed): Ha! Got one!

^FOOTNOTE (careted): I have no idea what Narcissus smells like.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): I know you've read this all before, but I try to give the perfumer's rhetoric when I can find it.

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.