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?

Nizards to the Left of You...

Nizards to the right.
Nizards gonna gets you,
Cuz nizards likes to fight.
-from the Lobotomy Club Hymal†

Look! Camera and computer, together again!

Which is nice 'cause then I get credit for a thousand words per picture‡ and it's like I baked it all from scratch.

First, I have for you pictures of a vast raft of rampant consumerism. OK, you've seen worse.§ You've seen worse from me. But it's basically stuff I bought that came in the mail.

And first among mass consumerism is something I didn't actually buy, but in fact WON, which makes at least ten times cooler than if I'd bought it.¶ It's a SplitYarn case from Caro Sheridan, my reward for carrying the I'm a Square Rhinebeck Bingo bag all over the Dutchess County Fairgrounds.

I do have one a lot like this, only a slightly different size and red and pink. I love these colours.



[SUMMARY: I'm a winner!]

I also got my limited edition Ravelry shirt# and my limited edition Skull-a-Day shirt.††




Note the ongoing "limited edition" theme.

[SUMMARY: Sucker!]

I also got my Moo cards, which I dearly love. See, I have business cards, but there are some situations‡‡ under which I don't want to give my address or even my last name to someone.

I'm making this sound all logical and stuff, but really they're just cuter than Disney.




All of them have my phone number and email addy on the back, and most of them just say "Marin" on the front. If you look closely, though, you may be able to see such provocative covers as "don't lose this number," "for a good time," and the wildly saucy "you + me?"

Oh, yes... so practical.

[SUMMARY: Justifi-CA-tion!]

The Moo people got me for life, though, with this receipt:



And now, fellow fibre freeks, the Lizard Ridge update that prompted the ritual singing of the Nizard song at the top of this post:

7 & 8

9 & 10

11 & 12

Huh. Where did my pretty picture of Strip 2 go? Would y'all check under the bed and behind the fridge and let me know if you see it?

Anyway...

Strip 3


13 & 14 & 15

16 & 16.5

[SUMMARY: Pretty Nizard... and I'm sure there's a Chameleon joke in here somewhere too, for those of you playing along in the comments.]

For your knitting entertainment, Brother joined us at Drunken Knitting night. The emotions ranged from

to

If you think those are disturbing, you should see the look I got right after the flash went off.

[SUMMARY: He can't hit a girl.]

And they were hanging Christmas lights downtown. Christmas light-hanging guys don't use cranes, but they do have colourful ladders.

And apparently some of them are hams.§§

[SUMMARY: And the gods bless us, everyone!]

Leaving to take Dad to the eye doctor. He promised to feed me, so I gotta do it.¶¶

†FOOTNOTE (crossed): That's not a misspelling. Not anymore.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Let's see... nineteen pictures at one thousand words per picture... ought plus ought, carry the ought... ow! my brain! three... four... many... an assload...

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Oh, American guilt.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): The fact that I actually have purchased one of Caro's cases at Sylvia's House of Fuzzy Crack should in no way influence the cool factor of also having won one.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Where My Stitches At?

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door.

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted - nevermore!

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Mostly involving alcohol or dim lighting.

§§FOOTNOTE (two hurricanes fighting under a blanket): Note the guy in the navy blue sweatshirt taking a break from untangling strings of lights to get his picture took.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (three wood, five wood?): No, seriously, I would have taken him anyway. In fact, the appointment was originally at 8:00 in the morning and there was no lunch involved. I'm just a good daughter. But he's still going to feed me.

Hey, Kids! Do You Know What Time It Is?

It's time to

LICK

THE

PIG!

Today, our blithe little tongues will be touching on the snouts of weather, sex with soldiers, wake up calls, and any of a number of other things floating around in my fuzzy head.†

[SUMMARY: Wait, did she say, "sex with soldiers"?]

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

My car dinged at me this morning. I knew my seatbelt was securely fastened. I was pretty sure it wasn't time to change the oil. But you know that feeling you get -- the dash light goes on, the engine makes an odd noise, something dings at you. It's like when you see those red and blue lights whirling in your rearview. No matter how safe and good and careful you think you are, your heart does that little dive.

I'm a dork.

It's been so long I'd completely forgotten that the car dings to let me know when it gets to 37° because that's where the roads can start freezing and there could be traction issues.

So it's cold this morning here in Denverish. We may see some winter yet.‡

[SUMMARY: Warming up the audience (ha! pun!), talking small.]

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

Up until last night, I thought the line in the song was, "...living in a pony keg and giving off sparks."

[SUMMARY: *dork*]

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

Remember when I did the big book and author list§ awhile back? I found another glaring ommission.¶

If you haven't read Ken Follett's# The Pillars of the Earth, please go get a copy RIGHT NOW and read it.

I'll wait here.

I had read some of Follett's spy novels that were lying around my parents' house, but was largely unimpressed.†† So when my dad handed me Pillars and told me I'd really like it, I trusted, but cautiously.

It remains one of the best books I've ever read. In fact, I don't know how I missed it on my list because it's the one book that's been in my nightstand constantly since I got it.%

It is the story of a town/village (Kingsbridge) in Olde Englande. The characters are compelling, the research astonishing, the story a force of nature. Nine Hundred and Ninety-Two rapidly-flipping pages of history, architecture, theology, sociology, anthropology, knights, monks, sex and violence.

Well, after 14 years, Mr. Follett has brought forth the sequel, World Without End. I'm about a quarter through it. Not as compelling out of the gate as Pillars, but so far, so very good.

I'll keep you posted.

[SUMMARY: Meanwhile, go read Pillars.]

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

I told Susie I'd make her a scarf for her birthday.

"What colour?" I asked.

"Um... rainbow."

"I can do rainbow."

"And I'm allergic to wool."

So now what am I going to do? Even the gay pride weasel has a bunch of wool in it.

[SUMMARY: Be careful what you offer...]

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

Dad sent this to me last week. I told him it isn't funny at all. It's a fucking documentary. Right up to the baseball bat, this is EXACTLY how my every morning starts.

Usually at 4:30 or 5:00.



[SUMMARY: Every. Single. Morning.]

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

Last year, before most of y'all knew me, I hooked up with a soldier home on leave for Christmas.‡‡ We had many drinks, a lot of laughs and a nice naked tour of the couch, the chair, the stairs, the bed.^

I was wholly surprised when he called me and we got together again before he left. I figured, "Hey, soldier home on leave. If he doesn't have as many girls lined up for the two weeks before they send him back to the sandbox as he possibly can, he's not smart enough or passionate enough to wield weaponry for my country. It's a NSA romp and I'm good with that."

I dropped him a couple of times in the last year. Surprisingly,§§ he even wrote me (unprompted) once or twice.

Friday, I was muddling through some boxes of work at home,¶¶ and the phone rang. It was a wireless caller, a number I didn't recognise, so I let it go to voice mail.

A little later, when I picked up the message, it was Soldier Boy, back from the war and wanting to touch base and maybe get together.

I called him a little later. We did a quick recon## and he asked, "Do you still go to that little bar?"

"Oh, yes. In fact, every Tuesday."

"Tuesday, huh?"

"Yes. We knit."

"What?"

"We knit."

"I'm sorry, I still didn't catch that. You...?"

"We *knit*."

"You knit? In the bar?"

"Of course."

*wild laughter*

"So you have a couple of beers and see if you can still knit one, purl two? Like that?"

"Ek-ZACKly."

He said he'd like to get together and catch up, I said that'd be dandy.

I imagine he might show up at Drunken Knitting tonight.

He's exuberant, funny, a little wild and he drinks like me.

I shaved my legs this morning.

[SUMMARY: Will wonders never cease?]

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

Speaking of drinking like Marin,††† that's a phrase Bag Lady Kathryn uses and it cracks me up.

See, when I say, "Drink Like Marin" in that bumper sticker tone of voice, I know what y'all are thinking. However, Kathryn uses it to denote drinking a lot of water. 'Cause I do. 'Specially in the bar.

Hey, two glasses of water for every adult beverage and I've never had a hangover in my life.

So Drink Like Marin!

[SUMMARY: There should be tshirts.]

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

♪Today you read this com-plete-ly.
You lick the pig so sweetly.
Today the light of duh is in your eyes...
Will there be rug burns tomorrow?♪


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Mostly this isn't a pick-and-choose thing. Mostly this is a "can I remember?" thing.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Says the girl who missed the first snow luxuriating in the sweet, lush atmosphere of autumn in New York.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Have I mentioned lately how much I dig self-referential linking?

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I *knew* this was going to happen. Five years from now, I'll still be saying, "Oh... remember that list? I forgot something..."

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): OK, I just went to the Google toolbar to put in "Ken Follett" to make sure I had the right number of Ls and Ts and it DIDN'T COME UP. "Pillars of the Earth" (along with pillars of the earth sequel, pillars of the earth movie, pillars of the earth book, pillars of the earth review, pillars of the earth summary, pillars of the earth audiobook, pillars of the earth audio book, pillars of the earth: the videogame...) came up just fine, but not Ken Follett. This is a kind of Googlewhacking I'd never dreamed possible.

I put in "seven deadly sins colour" and came up with actual entries and there's no Ken Follett?

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Which has NOTHING to do with the very hot, female-friendly sex scenes that could potentially, if I did that sort of thing, get me through some of the C-batterier of the C-battery nights.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Not Mr. Follett's fault. I grow quickly bored with most spy novels. I like them, but I get sick of the playboy-loner-dashing-gentleman-rogue persona pretty quick. As someone whose dated her fair share of self-romanticising loners with overblown egos, I can but take a "been there, done that (heh. done that. heh.)" attitude about the whole genre.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Courtesy, Yahoo Personals.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): This is how rug burns are made.

§§FOOTNOTE (sssssssssssss): See paragraph above. Honestly, I don't know why anyone puts up with me: I'm utterly surprised when anybody likes me, then utterly surprised if someone doesn't. Trust me, it's all sincere. I am a dichotomic dork.

(I feel I should also tell you I originally went with "dichotomous dork," which I think sounds like the plucky, anthropomorphised mouse peasant who saves the rodent kingdom in some fantasy novel. Or maybe the new teacher at Hogwarts.)

¶¶FOOTNOTE (little Mickey Mouse feet): I am a dichotomic dork who has a deep-seated need to show you how dedicated I am that I was home sick and still worked all day. Therapy, anyone?

##FOOTNOTE (double pounder with cheese): See? I hang around soldiers. I know the lingo.

†††FOOTNOTE (triple-crossed): Yes, we were.

Skate On With Your Bad Self

When was the last time you went skating at Skate City?†

It's just exactly like you remember it, only they're playing more Green Day and less Heart.

Not surprisingly, they're playing the exact same amount of Michael Jackson.‡

I don't know if I've mentioned this, but back in January, I decided to do a 40 days and 40 nights celebration for my birthday, seeing as I'm turning 40. It started May 20 and is culminating in the big birthday thing at my house on June 30.@

I put it out there to my friends and, well, they've come through, some in bigger and/or weirder ways than others.

[SUMMARY: Follow your dreams. You can achieve your goals; I'm living proof.]

Matt (Laurie, of Suburban Sedation Crew fame, her husband%) set up a big Skate City bash for the EIGHT June birthdays^ (including yours truly and his wife and both of his kids.) out of my school crew.

So anyway, there I was at Skate City, all deer-in-headlights with clonky brown-and-orange skates,§ stuttering and stumbling my way around the rink (the flashing lights and gobos, while festive in a Donna Summer kinda way, DON'T help). However, I got many compliments on my ongoing weight loss (Jen is my new best friend!), which I attribute primarily to the illusion created by the super-model height lent me by the skates.

For the record, I went around the rink a grand total of 3.1 times.& My hips were still sore last night. It's a hell of a workout, skating. Remember when you used to fly around the rink for two hours and be all disappointed and shit when they told you to exit the floor and turn in your skates? Good times, good times...

[SUMMARY: Skating: not for the faint of hip.]

Most of my pictures from Skate City suck¶ but I did get this utterly adorable picture of Dance Machine C (Jack's son -- you may remember Jack from poker night). Kid's got rhythm. I suspect he got it from his mother.

Dancing to Michael Jackson. Seriously.


I have long been fascinated with the carpets in casinos and movie theatres.# I was unaware (or perhaps had blocked it out) that Skate City gets their carpet from the same colour-blind clip-art dizzy junkies who make casino carpet.

My next remodel will look like this.


[SUMMARY: Skate City: still cheesy after all these years.]

After Skate City, we headed to Legends (of Aurora!) for beer and wings and stuff and I dragged out my knitting.

[SUMMARY: This is still sort of a knitblog, right?]

Of course, y'all know I'm never averse to knitting in public or even knitting in bars (perhaps *especially* knitting in bars), but I was among non-knitters and did get a little dose of grief. Jen, who was so kind to tell me how skinny I was, kept poking at me about my knitting.

"What, are you on a deadline or something?"

Well, yes, I was on a deadline, but I made sure Jen knew I would probably have been knitting anyway. Just to uphold the KIP/KIB tradition. Y'all know.

[SUMMARY: Jen, no longer my best friend. How quickly the fickle winds blow wonky...]

After Legends (of Aurora!), we headed to Laurie's and Matt's for drinks and, apparently, bathrooms. Several people had apparently expressed a need to pee, so Laurie said, "My house has three bathrooms!"

Off we went.

Unfortunately, Matt had Laurie's keys, so when we got to the house, with several adults (kids have no problem peeing at Skate City or in bar bathrooms) doing the pee-pee dance on the front lawn, we couldn't get in.

And Matt wasn't showing up.

And there were reports from reliable sources that Matt hadn't even made the turn to come home.$

I said, "Does Matt have his phone?" and Laurie dug in her purse, only to find, "Matt has MY phone!" Laurie didn't know Matt's phone number, so I called her phone and Matt answered, "I have Laurie's keys!"

Meanwhile, it had been determined that with... well, with a certain amount of effort, a small child could break into the house and let everyone in.

Plan B


Austin got through the window just before Matt showed up with the keys.

B&E


Once Austin went through, all the kids wanted to do it. Some even got back in line to ride again. So when Matt pulled up, all the moms were inside peeing and the kids were streaming up the ladder and into the window like ants to a jelly spill.

[SUMMARY: In the suburbs, they make their own fun.]

I gotta say, those suburban family folks know how to set up a birthday. I got three bottles of vodka and a bottle of wine (not to mention the cookie mix, which is, you know, separate from the alcohol thing, but at least as exciting).

And the sky was really pretty.

[SUMMARY: I'm a lucky, lucky girl. Just keep telling yourself that, Marin... I'm a lucky, lucky girl.]

Guess what I have on deck for you tomorrow? KNITTING PICTURES! Well, one knitting picture, but a whole array of Yarn P0rn and some very funny Boys-with-Fibre stuff.

Stay tuned!

[SUMMARY: AntiM: Still trying to suck you in with the cliffhanger.]

†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Or whatever it is in your neck of the woods. If it's less than 10 years, you're either too young to be reading this blog (go ask your mom what "holy fucking cats" means), you have small children or there's something suspect about your hobby scheme.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): One song. "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough"

@FOOTNOTE (atted): The fact that a 40-year-old is far too old to party for 40 days and 40 nights is no longer lost on me. It's a good thing I have a vacation coming up after this debauchery.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): It's funny to put it that way, since I've known Matt for 25 years and I've known Lauries since she started dating Matt. But, anyway, Laurie's husband Matt...

^FOOTNOTE (careted): I'm telling you, September is the sexiest month.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Yes, they still have the same skates. Probably the *exact* same skates.

&FOOTNOTE (ampersanded): The point-one was when I agreed to head out with Laurie and darlin' Mary, datesake of my heart, and the lights came up roughly point-one into that round and they announced they were going to play "Red Light Go, Green Light Stop" and I beelined for the exit, knowing anything that required me to start or stop at will was a losing proposition and mostly an opportunity for mass hilarity on the part of the spectators.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Don't be mean. I *know* you want to say all my pictures suck. This time it's because of the wonky lighting, not because of my anti-mad* photog skillz.

*FOOTNOTE (inside a footnote): No, AntiM isn't short for "anti-mad," no matter what my brother may tell you.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): The world is my kitty toy.

$FOOTNOTE (moneyed): Matt, a good father, had headed to Walgreen's to get sunburn spray for his hurting son, unaware he was the linchpin on which Operation Adult Pee hinged.

Big FO... oh, and the weekend too

I'm too sexy for this yard.

First, CLCWWW† went to the MiniDoctor last week (as y'all know if you've been paying attention) and got a clean bill of health. And a bath. Look how pretty!

I know it's not really news, but it does give me a chance to post another glamour shot of my babycar.

[SUMMARY: Yeah, yeah, we know you have a Mini Cooper, Marin...]

Friday night was mild mayhem, starting with lunch‡ with Kelley, drinks with Kelley, more drinks with Kelley, pedicure and drink§ with Annie, drinks with Annie and a stupid, stupid round of waiting for a boy at Favourite Bar.¶

Saturday was perhaps a little more sensible, at least on the outset, as the Drunken Knitters (DK Nation represennnnnt!) took off for a field trip to the Bucksnort Saloon in scenic Sphinx Park, Colorado (yeah, none of us had ever heard of it# either and some of us have lived here for 30 years.)

You can see a picture of the four of us at Red's blog.^ A nice man was taking the group pictures for us and I didn't see a lot of point in making him spend his whole afternoon with our cameras. So I'll just crib off Red for the group shot, and this is what I got:

The menu

It was Worldwide Knit in Public Day, which, as Drunken Knitters, we pretty much call "Saturday." Anyway, gorgeous drive,†† OUTSTANDING (yes, I'm shouting. Trust Marin.) burgers, great bar, making bikers with braided beards stare at us.

Red with the menu

Sarah, Genius Knitter with funny part of the menu

Kathryn, camera shy Bag Lady, is off to my left. The Bucksnort was her idea. It was a good one. We're going back.

[SUMMARY: KIP, KIB. Check.]

After that, I had a family birthday party in Aurora. Oh, not my family, per se. Sometimes it's nice to be family with a family not your family.

Mick (you may remember Mick from poker night) and Tommy, his nephew

Laurie, ringleader of the Suburban Sedation Crew and Liam

Matt and Liam

Carrie and Liam

I imagine you're sensing a Liam theme right about now. Not only is he a frightfully cute little chunk of baby goodness, but he spent all day going from adoring adult to adoring adult. It was hard to get a picture *without* Liam.

*ahem*

Unless, of course, it had Tommy.

Now, I've known Tommy all but his whole life, so I'm not allowed to think of him this way, but there's no reason you shouldn't:

Smart Firefighter Hockey Player. With ink.

Wipe the drool, change your panties and let's talk knitting.

[SUMMARY: *gurgle*]

Guess what I finished? Yep, it's the FO to conquer all the freakin' FOs.

Stupid Blanket is DONE.

Stupid Blanket it stunning. It's lovely and once I washed it, it went all soft and drapey and... *sigh*

I'm going to miss fondling Stupid Blanket.

Damn. I forgot the wine bottle for scale.

Stupid Blanket:

Pattern: linen stitch... 40 acres of linen stitch (body) and Two Leaves from Nicki Epstein's Knitting On the Edge (border)

Yarn: Plymouth Encore Worsted (75% acrylic, 25% wool), Marls #9625

Needles: Addi Turbo, US9

Assisted by: Seth, Red, Sarah and the New Belgium Brewing Company

And here are some close-ups for the knit geeks who like this sort of thing:

40 acres of linen stitch, redux
Back of linen stitch
Edge

[SUMMARY: na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na, hey hey hey, goodbye...]

Ah, just in time to start Stupid Blanket II, the Sequel.

†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Cutest Little Car in the Whole Wide World

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I'm using the term "night" a little loosely here.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): At the Brown Palace. You remember the Brown Palace, don't you? The nice pedicurists asked if we wanted a cocktail and, of course, we did, so we ordered cosmos and a man in a tuxedo with a snowy white napkin draped over his arm brought them [new best friend!] on a silver tray with a rose in a bud vase in between them. He set the drinks down on the arms of our massaging pedicure chairs, then placed the rose between us and left. His shoes were *really* shiny.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Not The Boy, just another boy, one who called me at 1:00 in the morning Wednesday for a booty call. Unfortunately, I'm not too sharp when you wake me, so I didn't even realise that's what it was until about five minutes after we hung up the phone. Then I was all hot and bothered and couldn't sleep for awhile. He said he'd look for me Friday night at Favourite Bar. He didn't find me. Sometimes there just aren't enough C batteries in the world.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Sphinx Park, I mean. Everybody's heard of The Bucksnort.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): It should be noted, particularly since Red just called so I wouldn't have to wait all day to envy to the ends of the earth her new DPN case, that my Green Gables is SOOOOO much farther along than hers.

††FOOTNOTE (doublee-crossedd): Did I mention green?

Does anybody know why Blogger does this weird-ass thing with photos that makes the spacing on my posts (probably everybody else's too) all wonky? Is there any way to avoid it?

All Hail!

Yeah, I think I'm funny.

So we had some weather here in Denverish yesterday. And I feel this is my opportunity to really anger the various gods and become smote and probably change the course of weather for the entire country.

I have been making predictions on the weather since last spring. So far, I've been just about dead on.† People who've heard me in all my weather goddess sturm und drang‡ would tell you I've been pretty accurate.

[SUMMARY: Have I never heard the word "hubris"?]

I figure the real test is to make a big ol' public production of it.

So here it is: In general, it's going to be a wild summer here in Denverish. It will be wetter than last summer, with storms almost every afternoon from mid- to late-June through July. Maybe before and beyond, but those hot central summer days are surely going to be like the summers of my childhood when all I wanted to do was swim all day and we got lighteninged out every fucking afternoon.

There will be an abnormal amount of thunderstorms and hailstorms and we can expect to see tornadoes as far inland as Aurora.

It will totally suck to be in Holyoke.^

I'm not sure about the fall and winter yet, but I'm going to re-iterate last year's prediction and go for a mid- to late-September snow of the sopping wet type that crashes trees and power lines and makes the newscasters go frowny-faced as they report on the number of little old ladies who have been without electricity for days.

If it makes y'all feel any better, we're going to have an absolutely stunning autumn this year because of all the water in the spring and summer.

Honestly, I know almost nothing about the weather.

[SUMMARY: Heh. I'm still laughing at "sturm und drang." I'm turning into Bob the Jackass. I should have said "Ah."]

I see cycles like that little kid in the Bruce Willis movie saw dead people. Of course, you can laugh§ because I'm talking 20-year hard cycles and 10-year interim cycles and my sample is running on 30 years now¶ so I'm just blowing smoke.

Really, really accurate smoke.

And now that I've said this -- here, in this very public venue, where all manner of mouse, man and god can surf it -- it will be hot and dry and nothing extreme in the slightest because that's how Murphy$ plays me each and every fucking time.

Besides, I used up all my Kharmic Green Stamps yesterday on a $4 parking discount.#

But the weather was cool and extreme yesterday and fit into my grand prediction nicely.

Here are some pictures I took, for I am a blogdork with a new camera:

From the 10th storey of Writer's Square, south

From the 10th storey of Writer's Square, north

Hail to the left of me...

...hail to the right.

Let's zoom in for a closer look at that hail, shall we?

Now I get all artsy and stuff.

Oh, hail... my umbrella!

Patio at Cheesecake Factory from 10th storey

Brimfire and hailstones - 16th Street Mall from 10th storey

Damnit, Jim! This is a knitblog, not the Weather Channel!

[SUMMARY: Enough talking about the weather already! Sheesh, hasn't our relationship progressed enough that we don't have to talk about the weather?]

SNSNBNW was last night, but it didn't get too crazy. How crazy could it possibly get... five women (two redheads), a bunch of beer, some pointy sticks, ranch dressing and string?

Yeah, I know. If we took pictures, we could probably make a fortune in internet p0rn.

Red did bring the horrifying pink fuzzy synthetic stuff (don't ask so many questions -- go look it up) and knit it into some truly festive mary jane slippers for her wayward sister.

[late edit: That's Wayward Sister. Carry on. But not a snake.]

And I did an impression of myself trying to count to four, which would probably have been funnier if it wasn't so tragic.

Other than that (and the ranch dressing thing), pretty tame.

I got some yarn in the mail yesterday from Rabbitch's shop.



The colour is actually pretty good on my monitor... it runs from a deep, red orange, right through sunset into dreamsicle. I'm going to make socks like this for Bronco season.%

A cameo appearance by Cat for Scale, who seems to be very suspicious of sock yarn in general, but this orange stuff in particular. He actually circled it long enough for me to get about ten pictures of his orange-sock-yarn paranoia.

Kelley's birthday today. We're hitting up Vita (New Bar) before meeting the boys (yes, The Boy too) at Three Dogs. Maybe that will generate some interesting blogfodder.

Keep y'all's fingers crossed, K?

†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Except the proclamation that Denverish would have a very wet, very heavy early fall snow in 2006. That wasn't right.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): TELL me that's not funny. And clever.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): I know a whole office of people who might want to remind me it pretty much sucks to be in Holyoke anyway, but I'm talking river-of-blood-plague-of-locusts-rain-of-frogs-your-Honda-has-holes-in-the-hood kinda sucks.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): And I would expect no less of you. You're too smart to take me seriously.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I can't count to four; you do the math.

$FOOTNOTE (moneyed): Murphy the Bastard Lawmaker, not Murphy the Darling Doggy. In case you (and Sarah) haven't noticed, I have a little long-distance puppy-crush on Murphy the Doggy.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): If I get into the parking garage by 8:30 in the morning and park in the 20 spaces allotted to early bird parking, it's only $8 to park. Otherwise it's $12. When I arrived -- LITERALLY -- at 8:31, the ticket dispenser wasn't working, so I parked in the early bird anyway and they gave me my early bird ticket (which I probably didn't deserve, but, hey -- ONE minute!) so I only had to pay the $8. Yep. All those Kharmic Green Stamps I was saving for a pony have been delegated to $4 off parking.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): I can't *tell* you how proud my mom would be.