Locomotivation

Which means nothing.†

I just kinda liked the word and thought it would look cool popping up over there on the right with the other blogtitles.‡

Here's what I have for you today:

My blog is worth $0.00.
How much is your blog worth?

Like that's news.

[SUMMARY: And the grapes would be sour anyway.]

It's probably largely due to my complete lack of clarity. Two things everybody should know:

1. Secret Pal sent me enough roll-on patchouli to glaze the streets of Denver and keep the hippies happy... and keep me in a state of half-lidded sexual limbo for weeks. Thank you, Secret Pal! I'll be getting more batteries on my lunch hour!


2. The next Vampirates sweater will not be for Tallest, Hairiest Nephew's brother... it will be for Brother. Capital B. As in my brother. As in 6'2" and I wish he'd stop working out so I wasn't contemplating a township of black stockinette.§ That's why I need your support for the idea I can finish it in four months.¶

See? If I just took the marbles out of my mouth, y'all would know what I was talking about.

[SUMMARY: You get what you pay for.]

I'm sure my blogvalue will drop like a Pinto's transmission when the blogiverse gets word that Hans isn't here today.#
*************
Indonesian Patchouli - Yakshi (oil - from Secret Pal)

Marin says: Proving that, like roses,†† different patchoulis have different scents. I'm loving the idea of discovering new concepts out of old ideas.

This version educates me in notes I'd only vaguely noticed and never really put a name to before: licorice, bitter chocolate, benzene.

Usually, patchouli has an black soil base with an overlay of twigs and leaves and tiny, white flowers. This has nothing botanical that I can suss out. It's deeper, rounder and blackter than usual,‡‡ and the scent clings tightly to my wrist... I can't smell it when I'm typing, but the scent doesn't fade even after hours of wear, which makes it kind of personal.

Yakshi says: Indonesian Patchouli finds its strength from the islands of Indonesia. Imagine the heavy, distinct scent wrapping you in a fragrance reminiscent of an exotic Balinese dancer. Fabulous fingers of fragrance evoking a strong, irresistible scent.

Hans says: *cricketcricketcricket*


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Unless you read it as "lack-o-motivation," in which case you'd be on the right track. Heh. Track... trains... locomotive... sorry.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Because it is better to look good than to write good, darling.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Not that there's anybody I'd rather knit acreage in stockinette for.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Particularly given that I haven't been able to get two teeny-tiny little Arrrgyle socks done in nearly two years.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Funny Hans story: He just called to ask me to look up a couple of wells for him, as he wasn't finding the information he was hoping for at the county courthouse in beautiful downtown Lusk. Turns out the boss sent him to the wrong county. Now Hans has to drag his sweet ass (his words) to even beautifuller Douglas, Wyoming, where the wells actually live.

If I get to Reno next week and find I was supposed to be in Honolulu...

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Speaking of roses, I am currently reading The Emeperor of Scent by Chandler Burr, and there is a footnote in the book (yay, footnotes!) that every variety of rose has a distinct scent all its own.

Ketchup with the Fried and a Small Side of Pig-Lick

I have spent almost as much time in the last two weeks apologising for my bad communication skills† as I have actually getting anything across.

Blame Billings.

The people in the Billings office with whom I've had to coordinate on the current sale have driven me to a level of brain activity most often reserved for dog trainers and pre-school teachers.

They ignore half of what I say, all of what I ask and react to the balance as if English is not their first language.‡

On the flip side, when they ask or tell me anything, I have to ask a dozen questions to figure out what it is they actually want.

So I talk to people like they're two. And everything anyone says to me, I question and prod and refuse to take at face value.

I hate what they've done to me. I used to be a reasonable, smart girl -- albeit given to occasional gusts of breeziness -- and now I'm a paranoid fuckwit.

I'd like to take this public opportunity to apologise to those who have been on the receiving end of my complete lack of logic and warn you it's not quite over.

[SUMMARY: That's my excuse and I'm sticking with it.]

We're just getting started on the November sale.

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

On a happier note, there is a brief reprieve between the October sale and the November sale in which we're all pretending there is neither a November sale, nor a constant stream of corrections and questions on the October sale.

And I'm going to Reno.

Monday.

For work.

Hans... poor Hans has to go to Lusk, Wyoming, tomorrow.§ But I get to go to Reno.

Now, my goal in life is to be dispensable. Dispensable people don't have to forego vacations because they can't be spared. Dispensable people don't have to attend client meetings. Dispensable people have disposable time.

On the other had, indispensable people get to go to Reno instead of Lusk. For 24 hours. And not really work.

I'm staying at a spa.

[SUMMARY: It's good to be king.]

Y'all are going to miss me so much.

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

Tallest, Hairiest Nephew's birthday was Friday. I did, indeed, complete the Vampirates sweater in time.

This is the high fashion shot¶:




This is the edgier shot, in which THN displays both his mother's wig# and the skull itself beautifully.




Little brothers always have to drag tag along.




See? It was a good Friday.

Now Brother wants his own Vampirate sweater.

[SUMMARY: I'm a sweater factory.]

It's four months 'til Christmas. I can do that, right?
*************

Sampaquita - Ormonde Jayne (edp)

Marin says: It's a floral I can't put my finger on. It blooms into something with a bitter edge, like grapefruit, but not -- maybe a bitter orange -- just the tiniest hint, leading me to chase it around my wrist like my own shadow.

It definitely rolls out and I get an immediate whiff of bark or moss, but it's fleeting and light. There's a vague fruit somewhere under there, but I can't figure out what it may be -- a sweet, chewy fruit like date or fig, not a bright apricot or citrus.

Ormonde Jayne†† says: (National Flower of the Philippines) Literally translated as "I Promise You."

Sampaquita flower is a symbol of purity and fragility, coupled with fidelity and resolve. The scent opens with an unmistakable summer bouquet,$ bursting forth with sun-kissed lychee set on a canvas of bergamot,$ grass oil and magnolia flowers in full seductive bloom. The marriage of these elements, together with a dusky floral heart of sampaquita absolute, freesia and muguet, combine to form a fusillade of fabulous intensity. An inspired quartet of base notes, musk, vetiver, moss$ and ambrette seed, unify and harmonise this sensational summer scent.

- Top: Lychee, grass oil, bergamot and magnolia
- Heart: Sampaquita absolute, freesia, muguet, rose and water lilies
- Base: Musk, vetiver, moss and ambrette seed

Hans says: Now that you told me, it's definitelly Filipinoish. Gotta wait for the roll-out.

Yeah, it smells like the perfume section of the Thai market; it's definitely something familiar.

"It's very different now," I said.

Yeah, it is different. Muskier. Is that a word?

"If you can use 'Filipinoish,' I'm pretty sure you can use 'muskier.' Muskier may even be in the dictionary."


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): That's not bad like Michael Jackson bad, that's just plain awful. If I'd meant it the Michael Jackson way, I'd have spelled it "skillz."

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): If only I had a special treat to train them with. And a cattle prod.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): A town so unremarkable it doesn't even have its own website.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I'm gearing up for the impending season of Top Model. Gotta get the lingo down. Meanwhile, I'd like you to marvel a little how nicely the sweater fits despite the fact that nephew is built like a phone pole and I didn't have actual measurements. Thank you.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I don't know why eBeth has two wigs lying around the house. I didn't ask.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): If you are the type who is interested (*cougheBethcough* *coughSylviacough* *coughRosiecough*), Ormonde Jayne offers a sampler of all ten Ormonde Jayne scents for about $60, shipped postage free from England. They're lovely... and such nice packaging!

$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): Ha! Got one!

Do Pigs Get Hairballs?

It's possible I do.

Last night, I finished all the knitting on the Vampirates sweater. Then I wove in ends.

For someone who knits in most of her ends as she goes, I sure had a lot of needlework to do.

First I tried spitting on my fingers and mashing the yarn ends together† to suitably configure them for threading through the eye of the needle, but they'd be just damp enough that the fibres would stick to my fingers and actually pull apart more.

So I stuck them in my mouth like my ancestors before me.

And ended up with a throat full of superwash.

Imagine the cat's surprise when I started *hornking* when he tried to sit in my lap.

[SUMMARY: Hornking a hairball on the cat? Priceless.]

Our fantasy draft is tonight. Brother has taken over commissioner duties for the league.

Thank the holy cats.

I used to have a lot of fun with it. I wrote funny, insightful, clever articles every week. I trash-talked with the best of them while maintaining benevolent stewardship of the rules.

Every year the whining got worse.

Last year's "Jack gets up earlier than me and gets better players. Can you change the add/drop every week... maybe make it random so it's fair to everybody?" left me completely cold. And over it.‡

I think it's good for the league and for their ex-Commishette to change regimes.§

But it's really hard not to keep calling Brother to remind him to bring pens and draft sheets and bye week sheets and...

[SUMMARY: Fantasy leagues come and go, but a big sister is forever.]

Unfortunately, our fantasy draft is tonight, coincident with the grand finale of the DNC.

Back story: historically, our drafts have been twelve rounds. Tonight, we're doing fifteen.

*tickticktick*

I couldn't care less about missing Obama's acceptance speech.

I am a little invested in the state of traffic as we try to make it home past the population zones, possibly when they're letting out.

There's some consolation in the fact that we'll be mostly streaming toward downtown while the masses are streaming out of downtown.

[SUMMARY: Did you not hear? I'm not commissioner. I'm allowed to whine now.]

Hans and I are going to take one last lunchtime peruse of the 16th Street Mall today and say farewell to the DNC and all its pamphlet-passing glory. You should see the pile of political paraphrenalia I've amassed.

All I need is the "Make Out, Not War" sticker and the donkey frisbee to make my life complete.

[SUMMARY: Marin's goals much exceed her reach, or what's an Internet for?]

CNN gave a shout out to my neighbourhood. Or at least that portion where we shop and drink.¶

If you look at the photo, go down the street as far as you can, you can just not quite see the Coral Room just beyond the tree.

[SUMMARY: That's two of my fifteen minutes.]
*************

Paprika Brasil - Hermès (Hermèssence)

Marin says: With a name like "Paprika," it's hard not to be influenced to think of a spice. And I definitely got strong spice at the first blast -- I would have called it pepper all on my own.

After it bloomed for a minute, I got violet and pepper. Or maybe violet and cedar. Cedar is kinda peppery. Since this is a Jean Claude Ellena, we'll see what the roll-out looks like.

After a half-hour, its lightened up a lot and now smells like fading violet with a slightly petroleum edge.#

Late in the evening, it reminded me very much of my Pink Jasmine, with its bright jasmine and white pepper notes.††

The Perfumed Court says: A woody spicy scent with notes of pimento,$ clove,‡‡ paprika, iris, green leaves, reseda, ember wood§§ and woody notes.

Hans says: It smells like... I always do that: "It smells like... I don't know."

I think my allergies are deadening my sense of smell. It smells like... wood! You know the wrappers, the little [Hans sign language for wrapper]... cedar? The wood wrappers on a cigar? It smells like the wood wrapper on a cigar.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Which seemed way more Miss Manners than stuffing yarn tails in my mouth.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): And sending emails to say, "Please print this email and take it to the mirror. Read it out loud to yourself and if you still want to put forth this idea once you've done that, make an immediate appointment for a vasectomy. We don't need your kind breeding."

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Before someone's head explodes. I'm not naming names.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): And by, "we," I mean, "I."

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Not as bad as it sounds. I think violet has a slightly petroleum edge anyway -- it's what makes it violet and not, say, lily.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): And I think I completely failed to mention the pepper in my review of Pink Jasmine. It has pepper. So now you know.

$FOOTNOTE (on the money): I'm giving myself credit for recognising pimiento as part of the pepper family. Otherwise I'd be o-fer and nobody wants that, right?

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Clove! Cool! I love clove! I can kinda see it now that I've read it.

§§FOOTNOTE (look behind you): I looked up "ember wood" on Wikipedia, but mostly I got firecraft and a character list from Elfquest.

I Love Fireworks

Um... I didn't quite finish my Ravelympics stuff. In fact, I only *technically* finished Grandma's slippers.†

But the Vampirates sweater is almost done.‡ And it's really cool.

I shoulda brought it to the office. Y'know... just in case.
*************
Marin says: It seems just this side of about a dozen things I don't like: vanilla, Channel No. 5 aldehyde, toilet paper... but I love it. It's woody and spicy with a tiny bit of patchouli -- and when I breathe it in really deeply,§ it has a tinge of cinnamon candy to it. It's sweet, but rich and tempered by that woody, spicy thing.

Love this.

It was still good at 6:00 that night -- no roll-out, no blossoming, per se, but holding steady.

DK says: Inspired by the finest of cashmere,¶ Black Cashmere is the color of mystery, the texture of luxe, the scent of sophistication. Wear it with anything or nothing at all.#

The Perfumed Court says: With notes of saffron,$ patchouli oil$ and African wenge wood,$ Black Cashmere eau de parfum is a gorgeous, dark fragrance.

Hans says: Is that patchouli? I dunno. I get patchouli.†† It's definitely earthy.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): But technical's all I needed to get one of these:




‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Back, both sleeves, and I'm halfway up the armholes on the front... despite the fact that I keep freaking myself out and nearly frogging half of it because of a perceived fatal error.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Like, stick my nose right on my wrist and snork. I don't get cinnamon candy from what wafts up while I'm typing.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Y'know... the black kind.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): OK, I can get behind that.

$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): I am getting so good at this. Even if I couldn't identify saffron *specifically* or African wenge wood *specifically*... I am SO in the ballpark.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): How does the guy who comes up with "diaper" half the time manage to identify barely identifiable patchouli? Or maybe it's just me.

This is My Pig Nose

A funny perfume story: I've learned not to use my right wrist when reviewing perfumes.

All day, it sits on my glow-in-the-dark pig rest,† and the pig rest has taken on all my perfumes. So my right wrist smells entirely different from my left wrist, and not at all like the perfume I put on that morning.

[SUMMARY: I'm making my own perfume.]

A funny knitting story: I've only knit one sweater before‡ and it was top-down and seamless, so the Vampirates sweater with set-in sleeves is new territory.

This was never more obvious than when I knit up the first sleeve and tried to figure out how it would fit into the armhole and realised§ I hadn't knit the shoulder cap.

I had to un-bindoff and finish the thing properly.

[SUMMARY: When dorks knit sweaters.]

A funny book story: I came back from the bathroom¶ at 4:00 this morning to find Cat for Scale lovingly licking the edges of the pages of the second Vampirate book. I wash my hands before I read it,# so I don't think there's residual food anywhere.

Weird little cat.

[SUMMARY: Weird little household.]

I believe that covers that covers all the major hobbies. Except drinking.††

We're clear for the day -- I'm going to go wash my pig.
*************
Clair de Musc - Serge Lutens (edp)

Marin says: Perfume. Kind of non-descript and remarkable only in that it had no alcohol or aldehyde edge and an undefinable sweet smell.

I've had conversation recently that musk may not be quite the animal/sexual smell I thought it was -- everything I've smelled that says musk lately seems to be sweet like baby powder. Not my cup of tea.

The Perfumed Court says: A floral-woody-musk fragrance with notes of delicate orange blossom and white iris from Tuscany.

Hans says: Definitely soapy, but a particular soap... *sniff*

Dove. *sniff*

Dove lotion bar.††


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): With 45 hearts!

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Green Gable.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Only two days later!

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): That damned pee-every-time-I-roll-over thing.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): It is, technically, someone else's book. And he hasn't even seen it yet, so I have to keep it neat and clean.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I think I will now have a drink.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I actually don't have a footnote. Just wanted to say hey to Lyda, who was worried when there were no footnotes yesterday. I know she has a system and everything.

Lovely.

It's a lovely day.

I could bitch about work, but it's a lovely day.

I could bitch about the DNC, but it's a lovely day.

I could bitch about repetitive knitting injuries, but it's a lovely day.

And the Vampirates books are *outstanding*

And I just learned how to use gmail chat.

And I'm done with the four square feet of black stockinette on the Vampirates sweater and I'm allowed to start the skull with joy and no four square feet of black stockinette hanging over my head.

And Genius Sarah said my four square feet of black stockinette is amazing.

So let's just call it a good day. Only I have to get back to work.

And gmail chat.
*************
Fleurs d'Oranger - Serge Lutens (edp)

Marin says: ORANGE BLOSSOM!

I'm pretty sure I already told you this story, but when I was 14, we drove to Cali for spring break. On the way, we stopped to visit my godparents in Scottsdale. When we got out of the car in April in Scottsdale, I thought it the most magical thing ever -- the whole world smelled of flowers. I made appreciative noises and Mom said, "Those are orange blossoms."

Within about ten minutes, I was a little over orange blossoms. By day three, the smell of orange blossoms nauseated me.

It's a largely pleasant smell, sweet but natural and a tiny bit tangy, but it's enveloping to me. It's thick and I just can't get away from it. I'm a little dizzy right now. Wait... now it smells like tuberose. Or jasmine. I can't tell the difference off the tip of my nose.

Huh.

Give it a couple of hours and it's almost gone. What's left is a hint of fleurs and a touch of something woody.

The Perfumed Court says: A stunning Floriental fragrance that blends orange flower blossoms, white jasmine and tuberose from India along with white rose, green notes, musk, cumin and nutmeg.

Hans says: It smells earthy. Like incense. Does that make sense? It's incensy. I don't know how to spell that.

Gimme Ten

Ten reasons† I love the Olympics:

1. Male swimmers‡
2. Bob Costas§
3. The world record line
4. Architecture¶
5. Technology¶
6. Fireworks
7. The torch#
8. The Olympic Anthem††
9. The American Anthem‡‡
10. Hours of socially acceptable, internationally-supported knitting time§§

*************
Lovely - Sarah Jessica Parker

Marin says: It was pleasant but nondescript right out of the bottle. By the time I'd furrowed my brow and sorted out a couple of impressions, it had changed drastically. From what I remember, the first blush was a sort of green, soapy clean with a light flower to it -- like a soft lily. A woody, kinda smoky scent came up from underneath that pretty quickly.

Sorry to sound like a broken record, but when I smell something very light with a touch of discernable wood and random flowers, it always reminds me of toilet paper. I reiterate: this isn't a bad smell. Toilet paper is pretty gentle and pleasant. But I prefer to smell sexy or mysterious or exotic or... hell, even fruity.

This was basically half of The Perfect Scent. Everything I read on perfume blogs¶¶ indicates this is a much-lauded fragrance.% After all the hoopla, I thought it would be more remarkable.

SJP says: Blossom with exotic patchouli, the perfume of paper whites and creamy orchid. Seduce with sensuous cedar, white amber, sultry musk and woods linger. Sparkle with fresh mandarin, bergamot and radiant rosewood rushing into lush lavender and crisp apple martini.

The Perfumed Court says: ...has notes of mandarin, bergamot, rosewood, lavender, apple martini, patchouli, paper whites, orchid, cedar, white amber, musk and woods.

Hans says: It smells like... water.

Did I mention that it doesn't last long at all? Poor Hans got it an hour-and-a-half in and it really does smell like water.



†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Not exhaustive. Not necessarily in that order.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Duh.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Remember when Ben wanted to name my breasts Keith and Dan? I suggested Bob Costas to complete the holy trinity.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): There's always cool new stuff that comes with the Olympics. It's like the space program used to be, with Tang and space blankets and those astronaut food sticks.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Always cool, but nothing will ever match the flaming arrow torch lighting.




††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I sing along. Sometimes I make up words.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I tear up.

§§FOOTNOTE (shifty): Note how cleverly I steered this into knitblog range. Speaking of knitting, the back on the Vampirates sweater is done and I'm two inches from finishing the first sleeve. Can I get a world record line?

¶¶FOOTNOTE (how will I hold my little head up?): Used to be every obsession had its magazine. Now every obsession has its bloggers.

% FOOTNOTE (percented): And further adding to my suspicion that I'm not particularly sophisticated when it comes to perfumes.

Play that Funky Anthem, White Boy

Before we talk about all the things I'll be finishing, let's talk about something I'll be starting:




Out of this:




Which wasn't supposed to come in until the beginning of September, but my pusher, Sylvia, lured me to the House of Fuzzy Crack Friday to pick it up.†

This yarn is 30% rock.‡

When Sylia got the sample cards for this, it didn't matter how much yarn I already have. It didn't matter how many projects are already on my needles. I started thinking of knitting something out of rocks.

My geology-lovin' little heart grew three sizes that day.

And I liked the pattern when I saw it in the new Interweave Knits and was considering what to knit it of when the Yarn of Rocks came in.

So happens the pattern's even written for that EXACT GAUGE.

[SUMMARY: Fate.]

And before we get into things I'll be finishing, let's take a quick look at a couple of things I'm in the middle of. Like this:






That's the Malabrigo Lace Secret Pal sent for my birthday, and I finally found a project for it, the somewhat inelegantly-named "Scarf with French trellis border from Weldon's 1890 and bramble leaf center."

I'm calling it Purple Prose.^

Then there are Dad's Low Tide Socks, which now have heels§ and a little bit of leg.¶




I used a new heel method# that I really like: Short row, with no wrapping and turning and picking up wraps. Look how pretty it is:




But I'm not working on those projects for a little bit while I complete my Ravelympics events.††

Oh, look how much a knitblog this really is!

[SUMMARY: Just showing off.]

I completed one event in WIP Wrestling‡‡ mostly on Saturday,§§ and did fuck-all on my other WIP Wrestling event.¶¶

I wove in the ends on the Malabrigo slippers that are -- technically -- a Mother's Day present for my grandmother, and washed them and stuffed them with washcloths to block them into some form that didn't look like crumpled paper.

I then sat down to knit the acorn embellishment. I determined that said embellishment mostly resembled an oddly-coloured, hand-knit sperm, so I decided to leave the embellishment off.




Sunday morning, when they were dry, I took them out to get artsy photos of them for the blog and Ravelry.

I believe I succeeded in stirring up bees more than I succeeded as an artist, but I think I should get an A for effort.##

[SUMMARY: I did little, yet accomplished so much.]

I had already determined my final event in the Ravelympics would be the Sweater Sprint, because I wanted to knit a skull sweater for Tallest, Hairiest Nephew's birthday.

I found a skull chart on Flickr (the skull designer is on Ravelry under the same name)...

...and then I went to Barnes & Noble at lunch and found a series of kids' books called "Vampirates."

So THN is getting the books too and I'm modifying the skull to have fangs.%

I'm giving myself a little pat on the back††† for remembering how fun and quick the colourwork was on the Monkey Pack and how dreary the miles of solid stockinette was.

I started the back of Vampirates and am saving the skull part for last, just to treat myself.

[SUMMARY: Old dog, new tricks.]

I fully embrace my dorkness in getting excited over something called Ravelympics.

Mostly, I embrace the fact that the threat of public humiliation in the face of failure of the stated objective is a powerful motivator for me. So I'm confident I'll finally finish the Lizard Ridge and have THN's birthday present done on time.

Know thyself.

†FOOTNOTE (crossed): OK, I was going there anyway and she hadn't actually managed to get the email out to me before I showed up on her doorstep, thumping a vein and jonesing for yarn, but I'm going with "lured" anyway.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): See the label?

^FOOTNOTE (careted): Note the lifeline. I am smarter than I look. After three frog sessions, I'm smarter than I look.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): No longer dick warmers!

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Technically, the It Happened One Night phase.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): New to me.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Being a competitor is really hard. You have to devote yourself to the competition. You can't be distracted by rock yarn.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Grandma's Blues, the 100m freestyle of my WIP events.

§§FOOTNOTE (flip turn): Lizard Ridge, the 800m IM of my WIP events.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (two little Ravletes on the podium): I'm disciplined, not insane.

##FOOTNOTE (pounding to the finish line): Kinda like the Special Ravelympics.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): I have it on good authority that I'm not just playing to my own inner eight-year-old boy. THN will be thrilled. Brother and eBeth both say so.

†††FOOTNOTE (gold, silver, bronze): Another one.