the quacking fiber addict

What a horrible day. 104 F.

We couldn't find the power cord for our sewing machine anywhere (I swear we opened every box we could find), and called every store in Portland about obtaining another one. This was after I spent over an hour online, trying to psychically beg the Brother Intl. website to work for a 5 whole minutes together.

So, the closest store with a cord in stock was in Woodburn - 40 mi south of us. Mum has been trying to get several sewing projects done for days now (wow, sound familiar?), and we decided it would be worth the time to get it now, instead of waiting for a new one to be stocked in two weeks closer by.

We drive. And it sucks. A lot. I don't know what's up with the crazies on I-5 lately, but I'm beginning to think there's some sort of airborne contagion localized to the Interstate that makes drivers psycho.

After a series of frustrating events we arrive at the Woodburn Sew & Vac. They start assembling the cord for us (apparently the power cord and the treadle are sold separately). During that time, Mum and I look around. We ask them for the correct type of bobbins, the lady staffer pulls out two bags behind the counter. Mum and I are excited, as the store is having a sale on Sulky threads, and carried several Clover tools I hadn't seen before.

On leaving, a different route home was chosen. 99-E. This route was quicker, safer, and prettier. I recommend it, if you don't mind stoplights in the towns.

We get home, planning to get to our separate crafting ventures after dinner. We make dinner and watch Eureka. After cleaning up, I locked myself in my room - planning to play on ravelry, knit and spin.

Dad knocks. The cord won't work. Can I fix it?

I have no idea where my parents got the idea that I'm some sort of sewing expert, but they have it all the same. Oy. I don't know.

It turns out the cord worked, it was the treadle that wouldn't work. $50+ and 80 mi for a cord that won't work. Mum was practically in tears and I just sat on the floor. We finally decided that it would be best to let Dad return the cord (Mum was livid). And the 2 bags of bobbins which, it turns out, don't fit our machine.

What a stupid, pointless day. And I only managed to get an 1" done on the booties for Beans. Arg. The booties, for your daily Knitting News, are nearly finished. They're taking so long because I am a freak and am knitting them at 9 sts/ inch. But I swear I'll get them done before the baby is too big for them.

Even if I have to knit through Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix tomorrow.

Labels: idiocy

Vancouver sucked. Drivers were crazy (and drunk). The guards at the celebration wouldn't let me take my knitting needles in. We had to walk a 1/2 mi back to the car to put them back. People got increasingly drunk as darkness fell (shooting off more and more fireworks over our heads*) and one idiotic woman nearly ran over my brother.

Seriously - I had to grab his shirt and yank him back**. Mum was screaming (as were everyone else watching). That was when we decided to leave - in the middle of the fireworks show, too.

I managed a couple of shots before it was too dark (we arrived around 7 pm). Here're Mum and Emm on top of the hill we sat on (however brief a period):




... right about where the car tried to drive over the hill, a couple dozen families, and my brother. Genius, really.

Sooo... haven't gotten any knitting done. The majority of the day was spent at Jo-Ann's and Home Depot. Both of which Mum and I have vowwed never to return to.

All in all, today sucked. I'm going to go and knit something. Screw startitis. I'm casting on whatever I feel like right now.

* there's a reason these things are illegal in many states.
** which probably wouldn't have helped in the long run - I was standing right behind him. Thank goodness Mum and several onlookers were screaming.

Labels: idiocy, insanity

I was so doozy last night that I didn't manage to post the other half of my evening. I am such a ditz. Yesterday, St M came over and had our "alternative" Seder with us, I received my Knit Picks Cotlin (snarl), and the geometry is kicking my ass (hence the title of last night's post).

How is the geometry kicking my ass?? Do you remember back to the days when A*2 + B*2 = C*2? I do. Trying to apply such logic to knitting (specifically the instep decreases on a sock) is futile, idiotic, and insane all at once. I was near tears by the time I decided that I was not going to look at the damn Spox pattern for another 24 hours.

Then, this morning, hahaha. I had the crazy I idea to try something different. No, I am not going to explain it. It would take too long, and it brings back painful memories.

Anyway, that's the condensed second half of last night's post.

Onto tonight's post. Here's tonight's quote:

“Experience is the name every one gives to their mistakes.”
Oscar Wilde

The story of my life.

Moving on. Today I received my Handdyed Roving Swap parcel. Since I have too many photos, I'm going to direct you to the pictures on Flickr. After that (and battling the bloody Spox pattern) I went to Homework Club. Or so I thought. Apparently (although we hadn't been told) it was cancelled. Emmos took me, instead, to see her workplace. We then went on to dinner and the EWES. A local spinner we (the "babies", *snark*) all really like was this week's hostess. Here's Emmos, laughing, with her wheel:


(I spun the hand-dyed roving I received from girlbotgoods). I'd say C's first EWES hostessing gig went well, as Emmos and I didn't leave until after 10. We got there at 7. Twas lots of fun. Emmos offered to show me the "scenic" route home, and we proceeded to get lost. So, I got home at 11 pm after lots of star-gazing on some rural highway. I didn't care, it was fun.

Mum wanted to watch Casino Royale again, so I cast on a new project. I made it through the first 30 mins before I saw this:


I am very annoyed. I usually really like Knit Picks. I've been pleased with their lace and sock yarns. This, though, is really unacceptable. It's just awful, and I'm going to have to cut the entire mess out and weave in the ends. Joy.

It was as I stomped upstairs that I decided that, damn it, I needed to knit something for myself that required no shaping and yarn I knew wouldn't give me a headache. Mum's shawl is out of the question. The Queen of Cups nearly reduced me to tears. My silk pullover is beautiful but the yarn has slubs that I have to watch for (or else regret it eternally). The Spox, it turns out, are too big for me and are going to go to Mum.

So. I am casting on SOMETHING tomorrow with my Lorna's Laces Helen's Lace. I've wound it and know for CERTAIN that there are no knots, slubs, weird ends, or general ickyness.

This isn't Startitis. It's self-preservation.

Labels: designing, friends, handspun, idiocy, insanity, knitting

... with my hammer.

Even though I lack the necessary plumbing, I have managed to out-handyman the males in the family. At first they were surly, then resigned, and now they're pretending that it's always been this way.

Lemme see. I managed to prevent Dad and J from breaking my $200 light therapy lamp AND getting concussed/ or killed by a Pier One glass head or cast-steel African mask. They stopping mocking me when I explained that I was yelling at them so they wouldn't either: a) kill themselves, b) grossly injure themselves, or c) break something very expensive. Not that they deserved to be saved from such fates after snarking at me for days, ignoring my warnings, and not even looking up when they started yanking my bookcase away from the wall.

But, damn, it's a $200 lamp, right?

And, really, how would I explain it to the EM guys (who'd probably snark at me too) and Mum?

Anyway.

Then, ahhahahaha, I fixed the damn Dish receiver, TV, VCR, and DVD player (which WEREN'T working, and the boys swore couldn't work anymore). They shouldn't have talked down to me in the first place, on this one, anyway, since I've been the only one in the family who could program a VCR for the past 10 years. Dad apologized for that incident at least. Emm just sat down and turned on Bill Mahr.

Whatever.

I also, with a pair of plyers, managed to fix the dog's pinch collar (again). Ha.

Despite how this blog may sound recently, I swear I don't hate men. Just the ones related to me, or breaking my windows. My window is still not fixed, by the way. Instead, the carpeting has been ripped off of the front room floor:


I have cardboard in my window. Lucky me.

*sigh*

Ahvell. Final note: I cast on Iro. It's going well. I don't get the Noro fuss, and probably never will, but I think it'll be a nice afghan when I'm done. I still hate "that Judaica thing", baby T's wraplan is progressing well, and I need to go and make dinner.

Labels: family, idiocy, The Move

In creating, the only hard thing is to begin: a grass blade's no easier to make than an oak.
James Russell Lowell

In an effort to forget about my many WIP's this evening, I started another project. Oh, yes, I did. I have been staring at that gorgeous cormo/ rambouillet mix knitwit sent me in the August Handspun Swap for too long. I finally decided to swatch and find a pattern to match, since my creative genius is seriously lacking right now. I narrowed it down to Hexed and the Tea Cozy Hat (both by Woolly Wormhead), and since the gauge matched the latter, I ended up casting on my very own tea cozy hat:


Even better, it turns out the original Tea Cozy Hat was made with handspun yarn, as well. I think I'm gonna take that as A Sign. Hopefully that I'll actually get this hat done in a reasonable amount of time.

Anyway. Long day. I had to get pin-backs for a swap (I've been needing them for a looong while, anyway). I tried to follow Penny's advice, and it mostly worked (thank you, Penny!). I did finally collapse at around 5:30 this evening from the unpleasant combination of a migraine and throbbing ankle (some days I really, really hate going to Costco).

Somewhere in there, I promise my mother that I'd make Pollo pomodoro minestro (chicken tomato soup) in two night's time. Sooo, that'll be another recipe I'll put up (I usually wing it, but this time I'll write down all the ingredients and everything). My soup's kick @ss, if I do say so myself.

And, uh, that's everything. I have another contest to put up. I have some stitch markers to fob off on the winner.

Oh, and I wanted to ask for feedback. Is it wrong or weird that I put "18+ preferred" on the age requirement for the Hogwarts Houses Swap? It's says preferred, not only. I figured if -18-year-olds would want to participate, they'd still send me their info, but apparently they think I'll bite them or something :(

Am I crazy? I just find that, most often, underage swappers can have issues fulfilling their swapping duties (I have had some great high school student swap partners, but the majority... hrm). Opinions?

Labels: cast on, idiocy, update

While pensive poets painful vigils keep,
Sleepless themselves to give their readers sleep
Alexander Pope

I've done something quite foolish tonight. I actually started writing The Joy of Knitting. Oy. I feel like an idiot.

Don't look at me like that.

Someone had to do it, and I was getting tired of waiting for that mythical someone to step up.

Again: Oy.

In other, more tangible, news I come bearing another button for the sidebar and a weird graphic thingy to make up for the fact that I didn't take a picture of my spinning tonight:




I have very little progress to report. I finally got snaps for Crimson's extremely embarassingly late Christmas present, and then proceeded to accidentally rip out the ribbon they were supposed to be sewn to.

Oh, yes, I did.

I then laughed and threw it in the garbage and decided that ribbons and snaps are overrated, anyway.

Don't look at me like that.

I also spent more money than I ought to have today. We finally found Quilter's Junction in Springfield today. Oh, deary me. They are sooooo dangerous. They had Asian batik fat quarters. I bought 3 of those and another matching 3 for a couple of mystery projects.

Ohwell. Maybe I can fall asleep now. I'm too lazy to check my email or feeds.

Labels: idiocy

No quote tonight. Sorry.

My entire stash is quaking in fear, over the possibility that I might choose it for my next project. Why? It's seen what I've done to my projects today.

Lemme see... today I have:

1. knit, ripped out, and reknit 6" of lace on my stole
2. had to wash "that Judaica thing" because I am an IDIOT and sketched the embroidery incorrectly. Thank G-d it was water soluble. (it's now resting in the sewing room, likely praying for clemency)
3. and screwed up the lace swatch for Mum's border (I finally decided that it might be best for me to postpone casting on said border, given my recent knitting catastophes)

On a positive note, I did manage to spin up the yarn for one of my Winter Handspun Swap partners (I have two, so they won't know if it's theirs or not! mwahaha, a way around the surprise rule...). here it is, perfectly blurry to make it even more surprising for the recipient (who, I admit, is likely not reading my blog):


And, oh, look, I spilt my antidepressants all over the floor at some point. Bugger all, I'm going to bed. Hopefully tomorrow won't hate me so much.

Labels: idiocy

I dread success. To have succeeded is to have finished one's business on earth, like the male spider, who is killed by the female the moment he has succeeded in his courtship. I like a state of continual becoming with a goal in front and not behind.
George Bernard Shaw

I can honestly say that I always have several projects going at once (I lie on the sidebar, I admit it - only half of my WIPs are actually listed).

Knitting, sewing, spinning, it doesn't matter. I am never, and have never been, in a state that involved no further work. It was with that in mind as I thought about my mother's birthday shawl (now 3 months late) this afternoon. While I accept that some projects take longer than others, there is generally a limit one must place in respect to the project's goals, effort, and desirability.

Thus, today I spoke with my mother and informed her that if she continued to wish me to knit on the border she had chosen (of which we shall never speak of again after this post), I would continue battling it (and it's bloody, infuriating, triple yarn overs) until such a time as I: a) finished it, b) paid someone else to finish it, or c) left it unfinished for so long that everyone forgot it ever existed (tempting though that might be, it belittles both my honour and ego). I even informed her that I should be willing to pack it with me to Sub-Saharan Africa (should the Peace Corps deem to accept me) and work on it there.

She replied, "I don't care what you put on the edge, so long as you finish it! I just want to wear it."

Alrighty, then. That makes my life much easier. I pulled out Knitting On The Edge and showed her what edgings I could manage to finish in a week, possibly even less. These patterns would look lovely and be much easier on me. She immediately chose the very same pattern I had picked, and I decided that I would need to block the shawl in order to match up the border evenly (I'll steam them both once grafted).

And, Thus: The Great Accord Was Reached.

And not a moment too soon. So, here's Mum's shawl being blocked, awaiting it's new best friend:


So. Hm, today. Unbelievably, today we had the strangest weather I've seen this year. Bright, sunny, and raining. Only in Eugene, I swear. That nixed the long walk idea, as one feels like a bit of an idiot walking around in the sunlight with an umbrella or raincoat.

We ended up at the library, which is one of my favourite places on earth - because they have the complete Barbara Walker collection, among others. I took out several books, including: Unexpected Knitting (very cool), The Bible According to Mark Twain (ohmy), and Zen and Knitting (which jumped from the shelf at me, and I didn't want to hurt its feelings by putting it back - hey, in Zen all things are sentient, right?). I still haven't finished No Idle Hands yet, but it's a very thick book and I'm pleased to admit that I am as far as the Great Depression in American knitting history.

A major accomplishment, considering I couldn't stand to read anything for a while there.

I think that's everything of consequence. In passing, I shall note that I cast on for the second, ah, half of my super secret knitting project. Incorrectly, I might add. Bugger all. But, I made up for this episode of Uber Dorkdom by knitting 2 flawless repeats of snowdrops on my La Privamera stole. I even measured stuff for Crimson's veryvery late (wince) Holiday gifts, and shall hopefully finish them before the New Year. Oy. It's a shame I can't pack a sewing machine with me... I'd be done in a snap.

Oh, and I must report that black tea with raspberries and quince is yuuuuummy.

Labels: idiocy

For Crimson...


She's right. It IS a lovely poem, isn't it?

Anyway. I caused a bit of a mess in the Magic Yarn Ball Swap (round 2) earlier today by asking on the thread (yes, I am an idiot) if anyone had requested handspun or wanted handspun yarn. It seemed like a good question. Ooops?

Ohwell. I meant well.

I finished my Dulaan mittens today and just finished the brim of a matching hat:


I may never, ever, want to cable anything again (okay, that's a hyperbole, I admit it). I spent close to three hours making this progress (thank g-d for The X-Files) and forcing myself not to run screaming or burn the lot. But, I persevered.

Mostly because, aside from the waste of yarn, wool smells nasty when burnt.

Ahwell. I need to update the sidebar, I've had more ideas. tehe. I've sent out a request to local breeders to "borrow" a sheep for this XTREME Knitting contest. I wonder if anyone will ever let me visit their farms again?

Probably not...

Well, worst comes to worst I can always resort to bribery and petty theft. I've always wanted to try and actually attempt a midnight shearing. Now, there's an XTREME sport for you.

And double points if you shear a ram.

Labels: idiocy

“What I say is that, if a fellow really likes potatoes, he must be a pretty decent sort of fellow.”
A. A. Milne (1882-1956)

Another congregant brought baked potatoes to the potluck, too. The Shul was veryvery rich in potatoes. So are we, as well. I liked your suggestion Stephie, but worry about the poisonous aspect. I'll mention it to my 'rents, though.

And, Bon, I do hope I'll have to eat my words (well, a bit) but doubt that the Dems could get it together to get a toaster elected. Oy.

I need to vote. Must remember. Also, must find ballot.

Aside from managing to crawl out of bed and go daven today (on 5 hours of sleep, I might add) I also got my hand-eye coordination together enough to spin the rest of that OF&F mystery batt up and ply it (note to self: take it off sidebar). Here's a pic of the middle stages:


The spindle tricked me, I tell you. It kept whining about the fact that the yarn was making it heavier and harder to spin. So, I capitulated (my hands were crabbing, too, traitors) and wound it off and plied it before spinning the rest up. Only to find out that 2/3's of the batt had gone into the first skein, and likely the last 1/3 would have made it onto the spindle. It lied to me!

Evil little monster. It's going to get stuck in the stash. Or maybe I'll use it on boring spinning to teach it a lesson. Mystery batts are a priviledge, not a right.

I also spun up some more Karaoke (the neverending supply of top is another story), started a mitten for the Dulaan Project (yes, I know a child needs two of 'em) and discovered something. It's almost groundbreaking in it's simplicity.

I. Am. An. Idiot.

Really.

I am (would I lie to you?)

See, I picked up every single edge stitch on Mum's shawl to knit together with the border. But, I didn't stop to calculate, or think, in any way. Because I only need half of the edge stitches, since the border is only joined with the shawl every other row.

So, when the edging began to look like this:


I realised my mistake. So, I just spent a half hour (turn your iPods to a violin solo right about... now) ripping it out the border and picked up stitches, and then picking up the correct number.

Ohwell. I think I want to spin some of Shawn's fleece now. Or maybe some alpaca. Something brainless... Cuz, I clearly haven't mastered the use of mine. At least I'll have some pretty yarn to show fror it, right?

Labels: idiocy

And the Lord said, "Solani tuberosi fiant."

A whole LOT of them, to be specific. If only Irish farmers had had access to our kitchen during the Great Potato Famine. They'd have gotten sick of potatoes, probably. Why are we suddenly wealthy in tubers and big supporters of the state of Idaho?

Because I'm an idiot and suggested that we, the family, bring a baked potato bar to the Or'Hagan potluck tomorrow. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Really, everyone loved it. Then, well, Dad got to do the shopping for said potluck item. Long story short, he got two five pound bags of potatoes. Which would have been fine if the bags hadn't contained some veryvery green potatoes. So... they weren't suitable for baking. Yay! 10 lbs of potatoes for me to peel, boil, and mash or stew or roast - later.

So, Mum and I got to go back out (arg) and find new and suitable-for-baking-and-consumption potatoes. Cuz, you know, it'd be really bad karma to poison the Rabbi and congregation tomorrow. Like... really, really bad karma. My stash'd probably catch fire, or get moths or something equally as awful.

But, staring at these tubers, I have a feeling that (very soon) my family and I are going to come to hate potatoes. Too bad for them, as I am a deep believer in the fact that wasting food is a sin (particularly because approximately 40,000 people die everyday from malnutrition) when others must go without. I'm not deeply religious (you could probably tell that by how much I swear) but this is my one dogmatic belief.

I spent another hour on Shawn's first fleece today. I am ... well... resigned to report that I still have 3 lbs left to pick through. I weighed it. I realised afterwards that I shouldn't have done that. 'Ignorance is bliss' is an old adage for a reason.

I also found out why Shawn produced so much wool. The staple length of her fleece is... wow. Earlier, whilst picking, I managed to pull out two locks that hadn't been opened and laid them over one of our quilting rulers:


Wanna hear something really, really funny? In Sheep's Clothing puts the average Shetland fleece staple length at... hahaha, 2 - 5 inches. I'm not sure if I should call the editor or the Guiness people...

Ohwell. Live and learn. And get a lot of wool in the process.

I also (again) strapped some more steel to my backbone last night after posting. The X-Files were on, so I picked up the stitches for the lace border on Mum's shawl. And, today I actually started knitting the border. I have two and a half repeats so far. Maybe by the end of the year, I'll have this thing - well, both of these things - done:


The wonderful, exquisite, perfect knitting journal that Opus made for me is almost full and starting to die. Resignedly, I have been looking for another. I finally admitted to myself that the Stitch'n'Bitch knitter's journal is quite nice (even though it carries the EVIL EVIL Stitch'n'Bitch logo), and bought one.

Then, soon realising that I would never use it if I had to look at that orange and green and logo. So, I covered them up. Inside and out. I quite like it now. I did have to sacrifice a knitting magazine for this, but the result was worth the price. Equivalent Exchange and all that ;D

Anyway. I seem to have come into some reckless abandon recently, as I've been jumping onto finishing projects which have lurked at the bottom of my stash - for fear I my fVcking them up - without care. Pick up 2oo stitches on a shawl's edge? Sure! Handpick a 4+ lb fleece of wool? Of course!

Everyone has their insecurities. Mine involve tricky lace borders, fine Shetland lambswool, and Fair Isle. And tackling 2 out of 3 ain't bad by my reckoning. If things continue on in this adventurous way, I just might (maybe, anything's possible) knit up those Dalebarn sweaters.

How about this? If the Democrats sweep both the House and Senate, I'll cast the baby sweater on.

I am sooo gonna regret that on the 7th, aren't I?

Labels: idiocy

“Considered logically this concept is not identical with the totality of sense impressions referred to; but it is an arbitrary creation of the human (or animal) mind.”

Albert Einstein (1879-1955)

I never learn. Over and over again, gauge has kicked my ass and made me more frustrated than I can convey with words. As I sat in "my chair" tonight, casting on and knitting a gauge swatch for a sweater for my nephew, I thought, 'this isn't going to work. this is completely arbitrary.' Yet, somehow, I rallied myself and took the swatch to be the Law and cast on the back of the sweater accordingly.

My nephew, D, is just under a size 8 (okay, I think my sister said he was a size 7). This website claims thatan 8 is equivalent to a 26.5" chest circumference. K'dokey. Adding 2 - 4" to that to make a comfy sweater = 30". Sooo, if my swatch says this yarn'll knit up at 3.5 sts/ inch, then I should cast on 56 sts, right? Remember to add those two extra stitches for the seam!

Simple, right?

Harharhar. About 6.5" later, I realised that the sweater was big. Really. Really. Really big. Way too big for a 6-year-old, size 8 or not. The back of the sweater should be 15" across (give or take a bit for the seams), right? So, I slipped it all onto a long Denise cable and whipped out my measuring tape and, whoa!, it wasn't even close. It was just shy of being 18". Fantastic.

The ripping will commence as soon as I can bear to actually rip it. yeah. here it is:


All 6.5" x 18" of it. I want to whine, but I won't. Adults don't whine. Or, shouldn't anyway. So, I checked the gauge again, to see where it was blossoming. Didn't work. Since I'm using my handspun, I got varying gauges across it, from 3.25 - 4 sts/inch. Joy. Upon further consideration and some quick thinking (why don't I just measure 15" from one side and see how many stitches there are beyond that point?), I found that I should have CO 50 stitches. Fine.

In a moment of "let's not be an idiot any more than I have to be", I pulled out my McMorran yarn balance and found that the yarn spun up to 550 yards per pound (sheesh! 3 ply and all), and since I have 12 oz, that means I have just over 400 yards. I need 410 yards to make a 28" sweater. Right. I suppose it's good I didn't cast on again.

This means that I get to make some fun decisions now. Should I just make a 28" sweater? It'll probably still be big on him, maybe not for long, provided I get it knit fast. Or, should I do something like knit up a 30" vest? I'm leaning towards the 28" choice, since it's spot on for the yardage and I want to knit a whole bloody sweater.

Opinions?

Since today was just plain frantic, I didn't even get to start on my sock tutorial. I spent most of the day trying not to pull my hair out because of my parents BOTH being backseat drivers. It's bad enough with one of them, but both! OY. I think we should all be grateful I didn't decide to just kill us all by driving off a bridge or something. It just went on and on and on and on and on. And on. I'm sure you get the point.

So. Yes. Knit to destress, right? Not working. Can't cast on the socks, however much I want, as the lighting is atrocious for pictures. Must be disciplined. I can't knit Mum's shawl as she's not working tonight. And... the SKB involves counting right now. Not even possible.

I think I'm going to go and find that drop spindle and mystery batt.

Labels: idiocy

(well, not really)

But, lemme see - two swaps I am being tempted with (you know who you are):

1. Spin to Knit Swap
2. Knitter's Tea Swap

And, then, another pattern I simply must knit: Nippertails (how I missed this, I simply do not know). Just add those to my current workload, and I am fit for an insane asylum - tho, I'd probably get tons of knitting done in a quiet, padded room...

In Knitting News, I have something terrible and quite embarassing to relate: I must RO (rip out) the heel flaps of the IYP3 Swap sox. I screwwed up on them big time - I forgot to slip the first st on the RS of the flaps purlwise - I slipped them knitwise. They look wonky. It bothers me exceedingly. I am an idiot, because it took me 20+ rows to realise this. Bugger all.

Labels: idiocy

Last night, after the Defarge Delay (just don't ask), I came home to find my father twitching slightly. My brother was driving him mad. Emm and Dad went fishing high up in the mountains over the weekend, w/ mildly disastrous results. Because my brother is an idiot (he is, alright?) he didn't put sunblock on - mostly because no one held him down and applied it forcibly. So, now he is, as my Dad puts it, "baying at the moon." He hurts, it itches, blahblahblah. We've tried every aloe, vitamin e, cortezone treatment we have - but it hurts (whinewhinewhine). He's driving everyone crazy.

You'd think the boy'd never had a sunburn before. He even tried using it as an excuse not to help me vacuum earlier. Bugger all. I'm not too sympathetic, because I get sunburned even when I wear sunblock - and I'm allergic to most brands, anyway. Mum and I just roll our eyes. Hopefully this will teach my brother a lesson about proper skin care.

I'd better not hold my breath.

In Knitting News, I have one of the sleeves attached to my Tempting II. I had to rip it out last night (the sleeve) because: 1) my gauge went wonky again, and 2) I had cast on too many stitches (the sleeves for the 44" bust are close to 16" around! - my upper arms are, like, 12"...). So, after adapting the pattern a bit - both intentionally and unintentionally - here I am:


Notice the hourglass-figure? That's where my gauge was wonky several times. First it was a little loose, then I tightened it - a little too much, since I broke one of my needles (cry!) and had to go up a size, where it loosened again. Yeah. I also accidentally CO 10 extra stitches - it took Emmos and I 5 attempts at counting to figure this out last night - so I moved that to the front, since I'm going to need the extra room in the bust. I always do.

Anyway, I'm going to go and finish the other sleeve. Maybe I can get this thing done today... hahaha. I can delude myself with the best of them.

Labels: idiocy

Aside from very nice and helpy people all day, I was truly impressed by everyone's efforts tonight to help a young, single mother who was travelling alone with her toddler. The AMTRAK workers spent over a half hour on the phone hunting down a hotel room for her (her train had been cancelled AND it's the week of Country Faire, bad mix). And, when the little boy had a bit of a fall, not only I but, several other people jumped up to check on him. As well as keep him entertained while the mother and attendent worked something out. They also got her a cab and sent her off. She looked so exhausted, poor thing.

It really was just a stellar day for proving the goodness of people. Great job, everyone!

In knitting news, I am 1/3 of the way thru the heel flap (a huge achievement, considering the reversed colourwork patterns) and I have restarted on the Tempting II and have 2 inches. Why did I restart? Because I am an IDIOT and didn't check my gauge properly. A stitch off per inch adds up, oy. The swatch was correct. I think. It was certainly closer. I ... ewww. Anyway, I think it's fixed now. And, if it's not, I don't care. It's mindless and wonderful.

I tried calling AmeriCorps today for a counselling/ teaching position they have open. No response yet. Ahvell.

Oh. I watched MirrorMask for the 2nd time today. It was just as impressive this time 'round. I strongly recommend it. Well, if you like artistic, funny movies anyway.

Mom and I still haven't made it to the U-Pick places yet. They're all so strange. They close at, like, 1 or 4 pm. Why? When we dropped by, the workers hours were posted for the early morning. Getting to a place in time to pick enough berries for pies and jam by 1 pm is impossible. Well, for this group.

I should go to bed. I have to fill out more job apps tomorrow today

Labels: idiocy

Aside from what we can only guess is an infected pore, I am now developing a sty. Lucky, ducky me. This isn't fair, I am insanely fanatical about my skin.

And I can't even be comforted by my knitting, because I had to start the sox over again. I am an idiot. I thought AF's feet were 8.5" around, and they're 8. I've taken this as the sign it is that I need to simplify.

Onward, I guess.

Labels: idiocy

Okay, first things first...


Amazing, isn't it, how two knitting bloggers were born on the same day 23 years ago? Weird.

I finally remembered to email Woodland today (thank you, Opus). Maybe a year ago, I was offered a job there. I was told that if I was still interested later, to contact them in order to see if they still needed staffers. So, hey. It'd be a nice break. But, I'm not holding my breath.

I've been told by return PC volunteers that it can take up to a year and a half to place you in the Corps, so I need to get a job in the meantime. And, then I'll have some money saved up and stuff. Or, maybe get to pay off part of my student loans.

Oh, and my Top Ten Things To Do Before Graduating:

1. finish my graduation robes
2. finish my silk corset
3. submit my application to the Peace Corps
4. find a JOB
5. kill UOREGON email
6. pawn the Guild off on some unsuspecting knitter
7. plot out world domination
8. finish minty baby set
9. party and/or drink myself senseless once
10. survive the next two weeks

Maybe I'll get 1/2 of them done? If I'm lucky.

I forgot Avian Flight's package AGAIN. I am so braindead. I feel like such an idiot right now.

And, finallyfinallyfinally!, the Sexy Knitters Club picked a pattern I can do! The Tempting II KAL starts on July 1st. Can't wait. I need to find yarn for it.

Labels: idiocy

sep·pu·ku ( P ) Pronunciation Key (sp-k, s-p-)
n.

Ritual suicide by disembowelment formerly practiced by Japanese samurai. Also called hara-kiri.

A very wise knitter once compared ripping (aka frogging) knitting to seppuku. How right she was. I'll explain this in just a moment.

Today was long. Really. Really. Really. LONG. Not only did I manage to bribe my brother into helping me vacuum the carpet (eugh), I also carted off 2 LARGE garbage bags of clothing to Goodwill. There is NO WAY I am ever: a) fitting into them again, b) going to be WILLING to wear them again should (a) occur.

Then, I cornered Dad and made him fulfill his promise to help me make a niddy-noddy and nostepinne for Avian Flight - my personal swap partner. Remember, last month, when I offered to send her a spinning kit in exchange for a personal knitting tote? Yep. That swap.

So. We made 2 niddy-noddies. Instructions are available here. Dad got enough PVC to make 2 1-yarders AND a nostepinne. Behold!, lo' are mine and Avian Flight's. I also made a matching carrying case (because, erm, it'd be wrong to send them w/o a case, right?). I tried out a theory on nostepinne making - taking a 12" length of something an inch thick and wrapping grosgrain around it to make the handle, then covering the ribbon with cloth - and, voila! A nostepinne (and 2 niddy-noddies... AV's is disassembled to fit into the bag):



And, then I decided that today I would FINISH one of my WIP's. I then dragged my spinning wheel out into the front room to finish off the raspberry coloured superwash merino/ tencel roving I started spinning, oh, 2 months ago (blush). Here it is, after being plied (monstrous it was!), wound onto my new 1-yard niddy-noddy:



And, here is the yarn in a skein:


I'm thinking sox. Yes, I know. SOX. Me, the anti-sock knitter. I am such a hypocrite. But, what else am I to do with 4 oz of superwash/tencel that's sock-weight? I WAS aiming for sport, but this stuff is slippery. Be warned.

But, it's so soft and shiny and wonderful, that any spinner/ knitter will forgive it. Which it knows. Arrogant, vain, little fibers.

Annnnyway. Moving on.

After finishing off the handspun-that-mocked-me, I decided to confront the WIP formerly known as the "Baby Fan Shell" (yes, it has a new name). And, NO, it's not "Pink Seppuku" - tho that WOULD be a fitting name for the YARN. EVIL EVIL yarn. It's stickier and knots up more easily than silk. Which shouldn't be legal, somehow.



I decided at about, oh, 7:30p to RIP IT OUT to the bust line. Since I reallyreallyREALLY hated the sleeve formula I'd devised a month ago. Je suis idiot.

Two hours later, I had lost it. I had actually CUT INTO my knitting. Luckily, I had had enough presence of mind to place a lifeline. But, that was as far as my braincells mustered themselves. Back to the cutting (er, with paper scissors)... By some grace of Fate, I managed NOT to cut into anything I wanted to save and then spent another hour untangling the mess.

After 3 hours of snarling at the yarn, I finally had it back to the bust line and was willing to try again. I made myself detach from it at midnight. I refuse to think about how long I spent on it tonight. Here's what it looks like now:


And, I'm absolutely certain that this twitch I've developed will be gone by tomorrow - err, later today. And, that I won't care that there are little pink scraps of yarn all over my freshly vacuumed floor. (sigh).

Because, I have devised a pattern I will like ever so much more, and I have finally (finally!!!) come up with a name for this garment.

Sakura.

Yep. It hit me tonight that the really I loved this yarn (way back when I bought it) was because of it's wonderful pale pink colour and plush softness - just like the Japanese cherry blossoms from back home. So, to me, Sakura (the Japanese word for "cherry tree") is just right.

Yes, the word is over-used and a bit trite now, but I refuse to care.

Saraba.

Labels: idiocy

I got sick because of today's PHYS lecture. No, don't ask. But, I wasn't the only one. D and I both decided home and horizontal was much more appealing that working in The Dungeon.

So, I came home, settled my stomach and head, and fell asleep. (yawn) By the time I wake up, it'll be time to sleep. Fun.

But, CrazyAuntPurl came out with June's Hor-O-Scope today. Here's mine:

SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22 - Dec. 21)
You know that long, uncomfortable sensation you have during a particularly engrossing movie that’s got you on the edge of your seat... not because of plot points, but because you really have to pee? Think of June as your edge-of-the-seat month. Discomfort, followed by relief, followed by some shifting from one foot to the other, followed by relaxation and so on. Perhaps that’s the “lump it” portion of the cosmos. Nothing life-altering, just the awkward stops and starts of summer's most ungainly month. There’s nothing you can do to avoid the transitional weirdness of June, but if you choose to spend more time enjoying the ride and less time bitching about the potty breaks, you’ll come out at the other end of summer with at least one great story to tell. In which case, please take your camera with you because all my Sag friends seems to find themselves in all kinds of foolishness and "this will be a great story to tell someday when I am sober and no longer have this bruise on my behind" kind of events, and I would like to see some photo documentation!

Sounds like graduation to me.

So. CLOSE. Two more weeks. Two more weeks. Must breathe.

I had to rip out 4 inches of knitting on my spencer's sleeve today! Je suis idiot. I forgot to start the "ravelling leaves" pattern after finishing the bell. Fan-tastic. Just... ridiculous looking, honestly. That was so much fun to rip. 6sts/inch (moan).

But, it's looking much better now. Even tho I only have 1.5" caught up.

Oooh, Ella, I've sewn my hands to my projects before! Birds of a feather, eh? :D I usually manage it when handsewing or embroidering. I guess I'll have to look forward to sewing my hand to something with a machine. I've also sewn my clothes, hair, and random objects in as well. We're so talented, aren't we? The worst part is you have to worry about ruining your project. I was more freaked about the possibility of getting blood on my cotton lawn veil, than the fact that I had sewn a needle and thread thru my middle finger.

It's all about priorities, right?

I'm not the only crazy person who thinks like this, right?

Labels: idiocy

I went to the Folk Festival today, and was impressed despite myself - mostly with these guys, David Jacobs Strain. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed down home music. I need to get a CD from them. Damn, they were yummy.

Anyway, here's a pic of the crowd during an intermission...


And, because I am such a complete and total idiot (no, really, I am), I get (laughing) to be crowded Queen of Weird Bun-Lines for a 2nd time:


So, on the way home I bought some hypoallergenic SPF 30 (cuz I can't do this any longer) and burn spray. Cuz I itch and I'm peeling all over (yes, gross and eww).

I am such a dweeb (I am laughing so hard at myself right now). Damn, it takes me a while sometimes.

I'm nearly ready to do the armhole decrease on the spencer. I'll post a pic of it later.

Also, yay in an "oh, shite" way, I completely fVcked up a bunch of my laundry. I KNOW I'd washed that skirt several times before. So why did it feel the need to bleed this time? I have giant purple streaks all over my t-shirts. Joyous. I'm laughing right now, too.

I think I need a cool lie-down.

Labels: idiocy