A Big Thank You from San Diego
This webring has the most awesome and generous people. My painful post brought an incredible outpouring of comments and emails from readers sharing their experiences, advice, or just saying "hang in there." Thank you all for your collective wisdom and good wishes. I feel recharged and ready to get back into the parental trenches. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. May blessings and good things come to each of you.

Whew! Shall we get back to the knitting? I'd like to, if that's OK! Here's what I worked on during the RockStar crisis. It was light & frothy knitting, and just what I needed to stay calm in the eye of the storm.



Closeup of the texture


The scarf is made from 2 skeins of Cascade Rio (162 yards/skein), a cotton & rayon yarn that's new this season, and a single strand of silky ribbon (sorry, can't remember the brand), on Size 15 needles. Super easy pattern -- you knit the triangle in garter stitch, starting with 8 stitches and increasing 1 stitch every other row right before the last 4 stitches until you finish 1 skein, then attach the 2nd skein and decrease 1 stitch every other row right before the last 4 stitches, until you have 8 stitches left. Bind off 4 stitches, then unravel the last 4. Keep unraveling last 4 stitches from each row to form the fringe. You'll need about 350 yards of yarn for a scarf that measures about 18" deep and 36" wide. Easy!

Happy Friday, and thank you again, everyone.

Long Non-Knitting Post Ahead -- Skip If So Inclined. Heck, I Would.
It was just over 2 weeks ago (February 17th, to be exact) that I was waxing ecstatic over RockStar's progress and how proud we were of him. I got a lot of wonderful "atta-girl" comments from readers, and was feeling pretty doggone good about my budding parenting skills. Funny how life has a way of slapping you upside the head if you get too smug …

On the evening of February 19th, RockStar revealed to us that he had been planning to run away. His plan, a very detailed and granular one, involved stealing my car, driving to Tucson, ditching the car, and taking a bus to San Antonio, Texas, to live in the basement of an 18-year old AOL Instant Messenger buddy whom he has never met. Also helping him hatch this scheme was another online buddy (in Sweden, no less). He received additional helpful hints from these two online enablers such as, "Don't forget to take one of (your parent's) credit cards, so you'll have money." The ultimate goal in Texas was for RockStar and his buddy, who is living in the basement of his aunt's house and is still in high school himself, to start a rock band and "make a difference in the world, 'cuz all the music that's out there sucks, and school is keeping me from practicing 14 hours a day like I want to."

I cannot begin to describe the shock, fear, anger, and hurt that this confession brought up for DH and myself. To say we were caught absolutely flatfooted doesn't begin to describe it. I know teenagers can put on a mask to hide their feelings; I used to be one myself and I remember very well how it's done.

But this scheme of RockStar's was so far below our radar that it went virtually undetected until 2 days before his scheduled departure date, when he started exhibiting vague physical complaints with no discernable cause. I've always recognized this behavior as a stress signal for him, and on Thursday morning, I gently confronted him before dropping him off at school. I told him I knew he wasn't truly sick, since he was eating large and healthy dinners but acting all Victorian and vaporish the rest of the time. He acknowledged that something was bothering him that involved school and music, but he needed to figure it out for himself. I reminded him that his father and I couldn't help him if he didn't talk to us, and left it at that. After dropping him off, I got on the phone to DH and said, "Tag -- you're it." That night, DH also pressed RockStar about it. RockStar put DH off, saying it was something he needed to handle himself. But less than 15 minutes after that, RockStar came into DH's home office and 'fessed up that he had planned on running away at 2:00 am Sunday morning (Saturday night).

The details came out piece by piece over the next few days. I was on the phone to RockStar's counselor the morning after the confession (Friday). His immediate assessment was both reassuring and frightening. Reassuring in that RockStar told us of his decision not to execute his plan, and frightening in his assessment that RockStar's depth of planning meant he might someday carry out another plan (leaving DH and I to wonder, what would that plan be? robbing a bank? or?) I scheduled the next available appointment, which wasn't until Tuesday, March 2nd.

DH and I immediately cut off RockStar's internet access, which he was not at all happy about. RockStar was pissed because he believed that since he 'fessed up, he'd get an appropriate punishment and life would go on as normal, la-di-da, as has occurred in past transgressions. Instead, he's finally realizing that, like not joking about having a gun in an airport, you can't confess an elaborate runaway scheme to your parents, especially one that involves criminal elements (car theft, credit card fraud, harboring a runaway), without major reaction and repercussions. Needless to say, it's been, at times, a tense 2 weeks.

We tried to make very clear to RockStar that his plan, despite being very detailed and workable in his mind, had little chance of succeeding in the real world. Did he really think that a grown woman (the aunt of the kid in Texas) would not notice a strange kid with no visible means of support living in her home week after week, eating her food, using her shower, washer and dryer, etc. Did he understand that cell phones could be traced? That credit card transactions could be traced? That he'd never driven a stick-shift car in his entire life? (no, no, no and no) We asked him, why steal my car? Why drive to Tucson, and take a bus the rest of the way? Because he didn't know how else to get to the bus station (which, if it weren't so tragic it'd be laughable -- but we weren't about to remind him about the purpose of a taxicab at that point). We asked, how did RockStar plan to support himself at 15 years old, with no high school diploma? Oh, he had that figured out, too: His Texas buddy assured him that "tons of kids" would be clamoring to take music theory lessons from RockStar. We reminded RockStar that his guitar teacher is an Assistant Professor of Music at the University of California who possesses 3 degrees and is nearly finished with his doctorate, while RockStar has been taking lessons for a total of 18 months. How, exactly, did he think he was qualified to teach?

What it all boiled down to was that he admitted to us that he really didn't want to leave, that it was a fantasy that got out of hand; that when push came to shove, he couldn't go through with it. Then why, DH and I asked, did he make these elaborate plans? Because they made me feel good, like I had control of my life, he answered. We stressed to him that there were healthier ways to feel in control besides making plans to run away. He made it very clear to us (and later, his counselor) that despite his excellent grades, just how much he hates school, and the pointlessness of the work involved (the usual adolescent argument of, "I'll never use this stuff in real life"). We tried to make him understand that while yes, we know he's eager to get out there and grab hold of life and shake it by the tail, it's just not his time, yet.

Fast forward to present. Tuesday's counseling session was good. RockStar's counselor drilled down to the core issues and exposed the problems. RockStar is scheduled for as many sessions as it takes, and DH and I are working with the counselor on our level of involvement in the counseling process. We're investigating the possibility of transferring RockStar to a Performing Arts High School next year, where he'll have many more classmates with similar creative drives and won't have to drive to Texas to be in a band.

Bottom line: We're exhausted. DH and I knew we were getting damaged goods with this kid, but we had no idea just how deep it ran. What if I hadn't paid attention to his squirminess a few days before his planned departure date? Are DH and I waiting for some future "shoe" to drop with this kid? After yesterday's counseling session, DH voiced something I'd been feeling for awhile: "I hope he's retrievable." I say in all truth that if his mother were to appear before me, I cannot be held responsible for what I'd do to her.

Say a little prayer for this family.

Drop what you're doing and go to the new MagKnits site now! Lots of cool patterns, lots of knitting fun.

Got the new Patternworks catalog in the mail a few days ago, along with the new RamWools catalog. I have to say I was a bit disappointed in Patternworks' offerings, but it might just be me. I loved a lot of the offerings in the RamWools catalog, so DH might have to lock up my Visa 'til the urge passes.

I only got 2 rows done on Cabled Hoodie last night, so no picture today.

Happy Wednesday, everyone.

Wednesday Evening Catalog Update: The new KnitPicks catalog was waiting for me in today's mail. Love the Sirdar Donegal Tweed DK Jeans Jacket on page 15. Yum.

Ugh, Monday. Rolled around much too soon for me. Got some knitting done, though ...

Good Heavens, My Purling Is Curling


Because it's Monday and I'm in a weird mood, I'll leave you with this:

The Girl Can't Help It
Really, I can't. I have a mild obsession with what I call "Baby Heavy Equipment." I always squeal and point out cute little steamrollers and Bobcat forklifts and bulldozers parked in front of the U-Rent-It equipment places. Must have been that copy of Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel I had when I was a kid. My husband, bless his heart, humors me. I keep reminding him how I can make my baby heavy equipment pay for itself -- I'd drive my little Bobcat all around the neighborhood and say, "Say! That driveway's looking a little rough! I can fix it in a jif with my very own Bobcat and Steamroller! Whaddya think?" Plus, they make that really loud "Whoop! Whoop!" sound when I go into reverse. Here are a couple of offerings on Ebay that I can add to my inventory, at the click of a button:

The Start of a Baby Equipment Empire


Hey, it's my dream. Don't step on it. Or I'll show up in your driveway.

Not a lot of knitting progress to report (not nearly enough to merit a picture, anyway), so allow me to switch hats and file a Field Report instead.

TeenSpeak 2004: An AmyKnits! Public Service
Living with a teenager is a bit like Margaret Mead bunking with the aborigines. It's a whole new world, baby, and you'd better get used to the fact that it's all about them. During periods of relative peace in the household, I like to adopt a clinical stance not unlike Gil Grissom on CSI, and observe the modern urban teen in his native habitat. Here are my latest findings.

It's well known that teenagers have a language all their own. Each generation has their particular buzzwords and catchphrases. Circa 1977, our speech was peppered with phrases like "boss!" (cool, awesome), "later" (see you later), "don't bogart" (don't be selfish) and "let's jet" or "let's book" (let's go). RockStar's gen is no different. Text and instant messaging heavily influence them. Text messaging has created a sort of New Millennium Gregg's Shorthand, with symbols and characters from the keyboard augmenting the standard alphabet (CUL8R "see you later", B4N "bye for now", BRB "be right back", TTYL "talk to you later", etc.).

Their verbal communication is also heavily influenced by text messaging, and is primarily a language called 'lite (leet) -- short for elite. In 'lite speak, if you are "owned" or have been "owned," it means that a person or situation got the best of you in a most spectacular fashion (see 0wnag3 for video examples of ownage). If you've been owned to the ultimate level, you've been "pwned" (poned). You can also add an all-purpose ending to many words. RockStar and his buds use "zor" to round out many of their nouns and verbs: "Dude, checkzor that weird goth chick over there!" or "My cellzor battery is dead." And of course, "Pwnzor!" (which I assume is the third level of owning: Own, pwn, pwnzor -- pwning cubed?) Given the teen penchant for exaggeration, nearly everything is "uber" (German for "super"). Naturally, there's a second level of uber: ubra ("That was an ubra-burrito, dude!")

Of course, your teen may be speaking his or her own regional dialect or complete separate language of TeenSpeak. We'll compare notes and present papers at the annual Parental Confusion Convention this fall.

Living in TeenLand, even the most dedicated and impartial Parental Anthropologist can't help but be influenced by the native species. DH and I find ourselves yelling, "Pwned!" nearly as often as RockStar. Heaven help us as we try to maintain impartiality, but we fear assimilation is eminent. Send replacements from the Home Office, ASAP.

Tell Us How You Really Feel, Amy
Message to the Woman in the Brand-New Mybatsu Monstrosity SUV with the Sparkly "Princess!" Bumper Sticker and a Cellphone Surgically Implanted In Her Ear: Get off the godd*mn cellphone and watch where you're driving before you cut off the front end of someone else's 14-year old Toyota Corolla. You'll get home in plenty of time to watch your mean-spirited reality shows without taking someone out.

The overwhelming and misplaced sense of entitlement that possesses some people absolutely amazes me.

Got a little more done on Cabled Hoodie. The 2nd set of bobbles has been started:



A topic that comes up once in awhile on the knit lists involves the best methods of "choking" your bobbles. Much earnest discussion is generated as knitters share their tips on how to get these little knitted nuggets to "pop" from the surface of your knitting, without any gaps or sags. These little bobbles are almost triangular in shape -- starting out with 5 stitches and ending with 1. But they seem to be properly choked 'n popped, and I'm happy with how they're turning out. A funny side note: as a design major in college, it was hard to keep a straight face during a class on print technology that involved discussing the characteristics of the 4-color printing process, properties and behaviors of printing ink, and the intricacies of "choking and spreading." (oh my!)

Also made another Bernat Boa Eyelash Scarf -- this one in fantastic shades of teal green, seafoam green, cerulean blue, and dusty blue (sorry -- can't help describing colors in terms of how they'd be named in the 64-color Crayola Crayon box):



Ooh, That Smell!
Gib had an entry on Monday about finding a bottle of Coty's Wild Musk Oil at a flea market. Wow -- that brought back many fragrant memories from my high school days (mid to late 70s). Here's a list of "do you remember …" fragrances. I'm sticking to drugstore varieties, as that was the place I shopped. I didn't start using department store fragrances until I was out of high school and could occasionally afford them. But you know what? I still fall back on my old standby, Jovan's Musk for Women, Cologne Concentrate. I consistently get compliments whenever I wear that fragrance. There are asterisks (*) by fragrances I personally wore back in the day:

Avon
Sweet Honesty*

Coty
Emeraude
Sweet Earth

Dana
Chantilly
Heaven Sent
Taboo

Faberge
Babe*
Tigress*

Jovan
Musk for Women*

Love's
Baby Soft*
Fresh Lemon

Revlon
Charlie*
Enjoli

Gloria Vanderbilt
Vanderbilt*

Yardley
Old English Lavender

Have a pleasant and fragrant Wednesday, everyone.

Oh Goodie, It's a Hoodie!
Got the sleeves cast on and started this weekend for Cabled Hoodie. I was a bit concerned about the looseness of the cuffs (70 stitches of K2P2 ribbing), until I read further. After 3" of K2P2 ribbing on 70st, the pattern calls for a reduction row of K2, P2tog, reducing the ribbing to 51 stitches. This continues for another inch, and helps the cuff stay folded back onto the sleeve. The reduced ribbing is tighter to the wrist, and is hidden by the folded-back cuff. Mystery solved!

Two! Two! Two Sleeves at Once!


Close-up of Sleeve Underside, Showing 1" of Reduction Ribbing


Mystery Solved: His Name is John
Absolutely loved the last episode of Sex & The City. Most regular viewers identify themselves with one of the 4 main characters. DH says I am definitely Charlotte (I agree). Because of my aforementioned Charlotte-ness, I loved that each of the main characters ended up settled and in love with someone special. And Carrie ended up with Mr. Big! The second-to-last shot of the show focused on screen of Carrie's cellphone, which was ringing with a call from the at-last-revealed-name of Mr. Big. Appropriately enough, Carrie's cellphone was a sparkly bling-bling model totally encrusted with pink Swarovski crystals. Sigh. Wuv, twue wuv.

Happy Monday, everyone.

Hey Man, Beat It -- It's the Fuzz!
I think I might have caught my Blog Sister Marcia's cold via cyber-comments. Darn those pesky little rhino-virii. Head's fuzzy, and so's my knitting:

Bernat Boa -- Lashing Out With Eyelash Yarn


Lion Brand Fun Fur -- Unleash Your Inner Diva


Musings on Being Perfect
My sister and I grew up with vague feelings of anxiety and inferiority over what we perceived as "perfect" girls (now, women). You know the type: perfectly coifed and groomed hair that never went limp in summer humidity. Their Farrah Fawcett shag was always properly fluffed 'n highlighted. Dressed in edgy-yet-not-too-out-there clothes, accessorized just so, pantyhose or tights with nary a run or snag, the right purse, and good quality shoes with no scuffs. No chips in their nail polish; not a hangnail in sight. We would watch these girls (women) in the high school halls (office), breezing by in a cloud of Love's Baby Soft (Chanel No. 5), planning mid-winter ski trips with their sorority sisters. And when on said ski trip, these girls (women) never cracked a sweat. They glowed.

Meanwhile, there's me and sis on the sidelines. You can spot us: We're the ones with bitten fingernails, limp hair, runs in our pantyhose, and scuffed shoes. The wrong belt, paired with last season's handbag, bought on clearance. Mind you, we weren't jealous of these perfect girls (women). We were in silent awe of their ability to pull it together so completely. Hair, nails, accessories, lives. What was their secret? How did they do it?

After many years of trying to crack the code, sis and I gave up. We decided to turn it around and find strength in our fashion dorkiness. Jane coined the name of our species. She said, "Face it, Ame. We're … The Adjusters." In the naming, we took back our power. Yes, that girl running for the #19 bus, tugging on her falling bra strap and already sporting underarm sweat rings in the early morning August heat, is rife with hidden power. Running into the restroom to dab clear nail polish on the run in her tights, hoping it won't ziiiip below her hem, she rises above the fray. Smiling into the bathroom mirror, she sprays on more Aquanet hairspray to combat midafternoon hair droops. Giving a final tug (again) to that damn bra strap, she marches out into the world, imperfect but unbowed. She is … The Adjuster. And she's just as worthy as her more pulled-together sisters. --Dedicated with love to my little sister, my favorite Adjuster in the whole world

Mea Culpa
Wow. I really meant to post sometime during the long holiday weekend (made longer by taking Friday off), but being set loose from the digital tether of the computer was just too, too nice to break.

I did get a few knitterly things accomplished -- finished nephew's Navy WoolEase Upside Downer, and the back of Cabled Hoodie:

The color is actually more of a navy; looks purpley here, though.


Nice Bobbles, Baybee!


Warning: Lotsa non-knitting content ahead. Reading optional.

Bewitched, Bothered & Bewildered
Well, not bewildered. Actually, I'm crystal clear. Got a lot of thoughts and feelings swirling in the 'ol brain as I prepare the reenter the atmosphere of Planet Thin. I borrowed the phrase from an excellent book I'm reading, Passing for Thin : Losing Half My Weight and Finding My Self by Frances Kuffel. The book is Frances's story of losing literally half her body weight and becoming slender (read:normal) for the first time in her life. I learned of Frances's story via a weight loss blog I read, The Skinny Daily Post (great blog, btw).

Even though a lot of the emotions Frances has written about are quite familiar to me as I continue this weight loss journey, Frances and I differ on a key point. She was always overweight, even as a child. I, however, have been to the dance numerous times; my weight swinging wildly to extremes at both ends of the scale. The highest weights always corresponded to episodes of major depression. In beating back the depression, the will to lose the weight that piled on during said depression always came back. But it gets tiring, people -- mustering the troops for another weight loss battle. I thought I had the problem licked when I underwent gastric bypass surgery in August 1998 and lost almost 120 pounds (yes, it was one helluva depression that preceded that weight gain). The mechanics of a gastric bypass, while not absolute, are pretty hard to defeat.

I had almost two full years of peace and tiny clothes before I got blindsided by life. RockStar's arrival, along with all of his attendant problems, were of paramount and immediate importance, and caused me to lose focus on myself for awhile. This poor kid had so many problems. Diagnosed but untreated ADD. Severe emotional problems. Entering high school. Not just any high school, but a new one, 3000 miles away from his former home. DH and I had to scramble to get this kid stabilized. It was no picnic. His freshman year had a lot of rough patches. It took awhile to get his ADD meds stabilized. His report cards weren't great; C's, D's and an occasional F. His manners were more than rough: he literally did not know how to use silverware when he came to live with us. I kid you not; this kid was used to eating out of a paper bag from the local Drive-Thru du Jour every night. His personal hygiene habits were non-existent. His mother raised him with what I call an "electric fence" method of discipline. RockStar was never made privy to the rules of the house by his mother; if he did something wrong, he got yelled at. Hence, we had one nervous, twitchy kid move into our house, flinching at every turn.

DH contacted Human Resources at his office, and they helped get RockStar hooked up with an excellent counselor specializing in adolescent males. Fortunately, they hit it off right away (although we were fully prepared to keep shopping therapists until we found the right "fit"). RockStar now had a neutral sounding board to work out some very troubling issues. His physician worked with him to get his Ritalin dosage stabilized.

DH, RockStar and I discussed everything as a family. RockStar was allowed to express himself freely at these confabs. He learned that occasionally we were willing to concede on some issues (i.e., growing his hair long, as long as it's kept clean). This empowered him and made him feel he has some say in family operations. He's still a kid, though, and has screwed up on some things (see November 5th's post for story of the Great Flood). DH and I meted out discipline which was appropriate to the offense and was spelled out very clearly. For the first time in his life, he's learned that there are reasonable expectations placed upon him concerning his grades, his personal conduct, hygiene, and treatment of others within the family. But the most important thing that was established in this kid's life was consistency. He'd never had that, ever. The powder keg was slowly being defused.

Fast forward to present: RockStar's last report card, two weeks ago, featured 5 B's and an A. He is performing 10 classical guitar songs at his first recital in March. He can use tableware properly, and although he still has to be reminded to use a napkin (and not his pants) to wipe his hands, his manners have entered the realm of a normal, slightly sloppy teenager. He doesn't flinch every time his dad or I say, "Sit down, we need to talk to you about something." He's a good kid with a mature-beyond-his-years, sardonic sense of humor. He's still a work-in-progress, and with the immediate crisis over, DH and I feel we can finally turn one eye (well, maybe half-an-eye) away from him.

So the kid is happy, where does that leave his stepmom? About 56 pounds overweight. Fifty-six pounds of meals on the run; late night snacks of buttered toast; too many snacks in general. Too much sugared soda, too much chocolate. Too much, period. Damn, what happened? Life happened, that's what.

And it had to happen exactly the way it did. DH and I had a child in crisis; our needs were second (third, fourth, fifth) to healing this kid's pain and getting him turned around.

But I was also royally pissed off. At myself. At the fix I was in. At the knowledge that I was looking at up to one year of ass-kicking work to lose the weight (again) and get back to normal.

So it's happening, the diet's working, the weight's coming off, it's all good, blah, blah, blah. And I can't help thinking, is this going to happen again? Am I going to find myself at the tail end of another crisis, lugging around a bunch of excess weight and going "Wha?" I'd like to think that I learned this lesson real good, and history won't be repeating itself. But we'll just have to see, won't we?

Impromptu Stitch 'n Bitch at Michaels
I went to Michael's last night to take advantage of a sale on Lion Brand Fun Fur ($3.77, reg. $4.99 per skein). Clustered around the Fun Fur display was myself (41), a woman of about 50, another woman of about 70, and a young woman of about 22 years old. It was Fur-tastic: We compared Fun Fur colors, talked about past projects using Fun Fur, showed each other possible combinations of Fun Fur with other yarns, and just talked knitting in general. We split up and drifted off down the other aisles, and found ourselves drifting back to the Fun Fur selection several more times. I found some Bernat Boa eyelash yarn two aisles over and alerted my shopping buddies to that. Earnest comparison between the Fun Fur (on sale) and the Boa (not on sale) ensued. We found a stash of more Fun Fur on the highest storage shelf near the store's ceiling, and used a 4-foot long tube of counted cross-stitch canvas to prod down packages of colors we didn't see on the shelves.

But I think the best part was when the young woman pulled a copy of Stitch 'n Bitch out of her purse. It had been given to her by a friend for Christmas, and she had taught herself to knit from it. She'd made the Hot Head watchcap from it ("but not in these colors, I made some changes"), and had her eye on the To Dye For fuzzy sweater as her second project. Obviously an intuitive knitter in the making. Whenever I hear a new knitter say they knitted a (hat, sweater, scarf) "but changed A, B & C," I know they're going to be just fine. That young woman could have been me 20 years ago, leafing through the latest Fashion Knitting and cruising the aisles at Super Yarn Mart, trying to find a substitute for the Anny Blatt yarn I’d been lusting after.

Unfortunately, we couldn't find a fuzzy yarn that would work in gauge needed for her sweater. We continued chatting about knitting. Her enthusiasm was so sweet. I asked her if she'd looked up any knit blogs on the web. She said, "Yeah! I've heard about those!" and immediately turned to the section in her very dog-eared copy of SnB explaining Online Knit Journals and showed it to me. She said, "Some of my friends have this same book, but had trouble learning from it. I didn't have any trouble, except a little with increases and decreases. But some people have to be shown new things." I said, "Well, then you need to pass your new skills on to someone by showing them." She smiled and said she definitely would. I left Michaels, secure in the knowledge that knitting's gonna be around for a long, long time.

Here's my Michael's haul:

3 Fun Furs, 3 Boas, 3 Free Patterns!


Isn't Boa Pretty?


Boa Patterns: Jeans Jacket Collar 'n Cuffs, and Another Keyhole Scarf


Happy Wednesday, everyone.

Started one of the sleeves on the Navy Upside Downer for my nephew:



And finished another Fuzzy Keyhole Scarf. This one is Lion Brand's Fun Fur, in Champagne:



I Have No Excuse for This Behavior
When I shop by myself, I'm apt to fall into a kind of fugue state. The symptoms are eerily similar to reported accounts of persons believing aliens abducted them: I literally "lose time." I can wander quite contentedly for hours in large chain stores like Target and WalMart. My husband doesn't like it when I do this; I tend to fill up my little basket with junk I don't need, often to the tune of $50 or more. Case in point: Wandering around WalMart one night last week, I smelled a very yummy scent right at nose level. What was it, you ask? Why, a bottle of Mary-Kate & Ashley Styling Hair Texturizer! The scent was intoxicating: Cotton candy with coconut overtones. Into the basket it went! Yes, I, a soon-to-be-42-year-old woman, supported the Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen Juggernaut. I have no excuse. Sometimes you just gotta have cotton candy 'n coconut hair texturizer.

Happy Monday, everyone.

A New Day, a New Scarf
Our graphic design department has a weekly Breakfast Meeting, held on Friday mornings. We usually scarf up yummy doughnuts or somesuch item. Since I can't (won't) indulge, I thought my scarfing should be in the form of knitting another Fuzzy Keyhole Scarf. Fondle Fiber: Good. Fondle Doughnuts: Bad.

The knitting needles are my grandmother's, from the early '60s


Things I Want to Ask God When I Go to Heaven
Of course, my No. 1 Question is, and always will be, "Why do men have nipples?" After that, it's "Why do women's thighs rub together, despite repeated applications of diet and exercise?" I'm serious. The only time my thighs haven't rubbed together to some degree was during a brief period of anorexia at age 18 (it didn't last long; I quickly realized how stupid and time-consuming, not to mention unhealthy, anorexia is). I'm sure that God in his infinite wisdom has a perfectly good reason why he engineered women this way. It can't be strictly to drive us crazy. Yes, he has a sense of humor, but I don't believe it's a malicious one.

Perhaps there are practical reasons for this thigh swishage. Maybe it's a security measure of sorts for pregnant women, to prevent delivery until the appropriate time? Newspaper headline: "Scientists Discover Babies Kept in Place for 9 Months Due to Mother's Thigh Rubbage" Or, perhaps it's an early warning system to others of the human species. Your kids or coworkers, for instance: "Knock it off! I hear Mom coming down the hall!" (swish, swish) or "Shhh! Stop talking about Amy! I hear her coming!" (swish, swish)

Happy Friday, everyone.

Spin Me a Yarn, Tell Me a Tale
A tale of upcoming knitting fun! Mr. Postman delivered some goodies over the last few days:

Mmmm-mmmm Good!


In front, Lion Brand WoolEase in Mushroom (from Lion Brand). In back, 2 skeins of Schoeller Esslinger Geisha in Blue Cloud and Roma Tomato, respectively (from Elann).

The WoolEase is earmarked for Ridgeway Lite, for my brother. But the tomato-red Geisha, an acrylic/mohair mix, is slated for this:

Here Comes the Fuzz!


Years ago, I had a tomato red mohair sweater that I knit from a very similar yarn. It had a super-deep cowl neck, very exaggerated raglan shaping, dolman sleeves, and an 8" fitted, ribbed waistband. This sweater disappeared in a wardrobe purge many years ago, and I've regretted getting rid of it ever since. The Schachenmayr pattern is the closest thing I've found to the original. I haven't decided if I want to recreate the ribbed waistband on this new, updated version.

The blue mohair is headed for the stash. It was too good a buy not to indulge in a little extra!

Aran Poncho Redux
I finally got a shot of the Aran Poncho before I wrapped it up to send to my sister in Portland:

Bye Bye, Poncho!


I know she'll get a lot more use out of it than I ever would. Also in the package is the Pink Fiesta Upside Downer for my niece. Stealth gifting for the girls!

From the Mouths of Babes, or, Kids Say the Darndest Things
The Scene: Dinnertime at Chez Yarnover's former location, a tumbledown beach house in LaJolla. The Time: About 9 years ago. In Attendance: Myself, dear departed MIL, and RockStar-at-Age-6. The Menu: Macaroni & Cheese. RockStar has just finished a good-sized portion. It's one of his very favorite dishes. He leans back in his chair, surveys his surroundings, heaves a contented sigh, and says, "I'm sure glad I'm not lactose-intolerant!" Me too, big guy, me too.

Happy Wednesday, everyone.

I've Been Remiss
... in my blogging duties! The wheels sorta fell off the bus last week, and for that I apologize. I'm still working on the Cable Hoodie, but have put it aside briefly to work on another Upside Downer pullover. This one is for my 7yo nephew, and I'm making it out of Wool-Ease in the Tartan Twist shade. I stated in an earlier post that this shade was discontinued, which is incorrect. I saw it recently on Lion Brand's website, and it is still a current shade. It's a little hard to photograph because it's so dark, but I gave it a shot:

Pardon My Messy Light Table!


I'm about 1" away from the waistband ribbing. I'm making the sweater in a kid's size 12 since nephew is a big kid for 7. His parents are both tall; my brother is 6'1" and his wife is 5'11". They're both blond and good looking; their 3 kids are all blond and good looking. They look like could step right into an Eddie Baurer or L.L. Bean catalog. DH and I call them The Blond Family.

A Weighty Subject Continues
It's official. On Saturday, I reached the halfway point of my Medifast weight loss journey, at 33lbs lost. I want to take a 1-day break, but I think I'll keep going while the momentum is there. I took a 1-day break during Week 5 (the week showing the "0" loss), and it stalled my progress for an entire week. It's not so much a morale thing -- it's a cost thing. This diet is effective, but it ain't cheap, so I don't want to waste any money just to satisfy a doughnut or pasta craving. Capisci?

Word to the Wise
If you wanna revive a fading career, engineer a wardrobe malfunction. Works every time.

Happy Monday, everyone.

Darkness Falls on Tierrasanta
I wanted to show you my progress on another Upside Downer I'm making for my 7yo nephew. Really, I did. But at around 6pm last night, as RockStar and I were watching a Tivo'd episode of VH1 Classic's Metal Mania show, the power went out. Here's what we looked like:

Uh, honey, did you pay the electric bill?


It was a very strange and prolonged blackout. It only affected about 12 houses on our side of the street, and about 5 on the other side. In fact, our neighbors immediately next door and the ones directly across the street had power. Two big power company trucks were prowling around and settled on a circuit box across the street. Something must have broken big-time, because it took almost 6 hours to restore power. In a surreal touch, the power came back on at the stroke of midnight.

Now that I'm firmly back in the 21st century, I'll get some pictures posted tomorrow. Really! I will.

Didn't get time to snap any pitchas ... so you get my rambling thoughts instead. You've been warned; move on to the next site in the KnitBlog Ring if you're so inclined. Decided to stay? Alrighty, then.

There's a Song in My Heart
What is it about certain songs that they become embedded in your brain, playing over (and over and over)? My current torture is split between two songs: OutKast's "Hey Ya" and Britney Spears "Toxic." There's no rhyme (ha ha) or reason for either of these songs to be on auto-replay in my head all day. Well, maybe a case can be made for "Hey Ya." It has the secret Walt Disney song ingredient. You know -- the same one that provides me with instant recall on all songs from the Mary Poppins soundtrack. And just to set the record straight: Movie merchandising did not begin with The Little Mermaid. I'll have you know I had an entire bedroom suite of Mary Poppins paraphernalia: Bedspread, sheets 'n pillowcase, and bedside lamp. Plus a full meal set: Plate, silverware, drinking cup. And M.P. doll. And this was in (cough) 1965.

But I digress. All morning at work, while trying to dig myself out of the creative (funk) (hole) (abyss) that I currently reside in (not a good thing if you're a graphic designer and worthy of a post all by itself), snippets of "Hey Ya" were trolling my brainwaves like a musical freighter on the high seas:

You think you've got it
Ohh, you think you've got it
But got it just don't get it
Till' there's nothing at
AaaaaaaaAAAAAAAaaaaaaAAAAAAaaaaaallllll.. (love that part)

But wait! There's more:

Shake it, shake, shake it, shake it (OHH OH)
Shake it, shake it, shake, shake it, shake it, shake it (OHH OH)
Shake it, shake it like a Poloroid Picture, shake it, shake it

But I simply cannot explain the Britney Spears song. With insipid lyrics like these:

With a taste of your lips
I’m on a ride
You’re toxic
I’m slipping under
With a taste of poison paradise
I’m addicted to you
Don’t you know that you’re toxic
And I love what you do
Don’t you know that you’re toxic

I have no excuse. Maybe I need a high colonic. Somebody. Help. Me.

Sigh. Tomorrow will be a better day.

Finally ... Friday
Don't know about you, but I'm certainly glad it's Friday. My poor husband, however, has been working 6 days per week since early October. He works for a well-known tax & personal finance software company, and getting the tax software out the door starts waaaay before January 1st, and continues until about mid-February. This is a rough time of year for him (and us). I miss him.

I've got a few more inches done on Cabled Hoodie. I'll post a picture of the back when it's finished. Whipped up a Fuzzy Scarf while hanging out in the car on Saturdays during RockStar's guitar lessons. The scarf has a keyhole, and is uber-fuzzy. The yarn is Lion Brand Fun Fur in Sandstone.

That's one fuzzy scarf!


More Random Amy-ness

I Love …
Toast

I Can't Stand …
Parades

I Miss …
Mulletwatch.com

I Wish …
I could see my family in Oregon more often

I Regret ...
Nothing at the moment

I'm Grateful
I have such a loving family

Have a good weekend, everyone.

Had to put Ridgeway Lite on hold until I find a yarn to my liking. So I've switched back to the Cabled Hoodie for awhile:



I've made it to the underarm shaping on the back. Easy pattern, nice yarn (Paton's Classic Wool in Faded Blue). A win-win knit sitchie-ation!

Musings on My Mother, Part 1
When I was 12yo, we moved from Portland to a rural community about 20 miles south. Here is the paradox that is Oregon: driving 30 minutes from Portland in just about any direction puts you smack into some very rural countryside. From a bastion of liberalism to cows 'n conservatism. From good private schools to "unified school districts" where kids ride the bus through the countryside for nearly an hour to get to school.

I know now that my mother did not want to move there. But greater forces were at work and she decided to make the best of it, and provide her "city kids" with the best that country living had to offer.

Our "spread" consisted of an old farmhouse, a garage/barn/shed, a chicken coop and yard, and about 3/4 of an acre of land. Sort of a "country gentleman's" mini-farm. The land could support about half-a-horse and a good-sized vegetable garden, if you were so inclined.

My mother decided that the animal to inaugurate our farm experience would be chickens. The coop and yard were ready to go, and so was mom. So off we drive to the nearest town (5 miles up the road), to the local farmer's co-op and feed store. For anyone who's never lived in the country, the co-op is THE hub of community activity. All farm business, gossip, and general scratchin' and lyin' are done at the co-op. Lotsa snuff dippin' and spittin'. Trucker hats? Feh! Either John Deere or International Harvester tractor caps, worn with your basic OshKosh b'Gosh overalls and a flannel shirt -- that's the basic Farmer Uniform.

The co-op had wooden floors and smelled strongly but pleasantly of animal feed and of leather from the animal harnesses hanging down from the ceiling throughout the building.

Now, these old farmers must have been absolutely dying of laughter inside, but managed to hold it together long enough to sell my mother a dozen Rhode Island Red laying hens. The old farmer fella at the counter cautioned my mother that these hens had been retired from the local egg farm, but would still lay eggs for a good number of years. He brought out 4 burlap bags from the back of the store, tied at the top with twine. Inside each bag were 3 hens, faintly wriggling and poking the burlap. We also purchased bags of Purina Chicken Feed, feed corn, and water trays for our little Henny Pennies.

And off to home we went. My little brother kept peeking into the back of the station wagon where the burlap bags containing the hens were lying. "Mama," he asked, "are they OK? They aren't moving around much." "They're fine," my mom said, "they just want to get home to their new house." My brother wasn't convinced, but didn't say anything.

We rolled up in the driveway, and hauled the burlap bags into the chicken yard. The big moment had arrived! We were going to be real farm kids, now! Mom ran around, filling water and feed trays, then she carefully opened the burlap bags. We backed away slowly and held our breath. But nothing happened. Not a cluck or a peep from any of the bags.

Mom cautiously pulled back the top of one of the bags. Three Rhode Island Red hens lay on their sides, staring back at her. Alive, and apparently, healthy, but lying quite contentedly on their sides. Mom gently removed all the hens from the bags. 12 hens, all basking in the June sunshine. On their sides. My little brother starts crying, "Mama! What's wrong with the chickens? Are they dead?" My sister joins him in the crying. Mom starts lifting the hens up, trying to get them to stand on their own. They flop back down as soon as she lets go. She starts to get a little frantic, and drags them over, one by one, to the water trough so they can get a drink of water. The hens are perfectly content to lie on their sides and cluck. She then tries gently lofting the chickens into the air to see if they'll flap their wings and start moving on their own. No luck. Prone chickens, again. What the hell is wrong with these chickens?

Well. What the aw-shucks farmers down at the co-op had neglected to tell my mom is that these hens, having come from an egg farm, sat in a laying rack all day and never got to go run around in a nice chicken yard like the one we just brought them home to. Their poor little legs worked, but were weak from disuse.

This story has a happy ending. The hens, after several hours of lying around, with my mother hand-carrying them to the water trough, eventually wobbled to their feet and started pecking at their food and exploring their new home. We ended up having those hens for a number of years, and they laid a lot of nice brown eggs that were very fresh and good.

Happy Wednesday, everyone.

New Online Knitting Mag Alert!
Got the news straight from Julie's blog ... there's a new online knitting mag starting publication on February 29th called Magknits. Can't hardly wait!

Speed Sweater!
Wow, I wish I could finish a sweater-a-week all the time! That's what's cool about knitting for kids -- miniature size, fast satisfaction for the knitter. Making its AmyKnits! debut, in all its pink splendor, is the Pink Fiesta Upside-Downer!

Whoa! That's a lotta pink!


I tried to get a closeup shot of the yarn, to show the nifty pastel tweed texture:



And the coolest part? An entire sweater for under $10. PFUD and the Aran Poncho will be heading up to Portland sometime this week, as a surprise for my sister and niece. I love stealth gifting!

The only thing I'd do differently the next time on this sweater is add some short rows to the back of the neck area, ala Elizabeth Zimmerman's Percentage Raglan. I don't think it'll make a lot of difference on a child's sweater, but I can imagine the adult version fitting too closely around the neck front and bothering the wearer.

Hit a Bit of a Snag ...
... when I started Ridgeway Lite for my brother. The yarn I'd intended to use, a discontinued shade of WoolEase called Tartan Twist, ended up being much too dark to show the pattern's texture. The texture is a twisted stockinette stitch that's pretty subtle. The Tartan Twist shade is a very dark navy blue, with a twist of dark purple and forest green running through it. Good for another plain sweater like the Upside Downer Raglan where the yarn is the star. Back into the stash it goes, and online I go, cruising for a medium shade of worsted.

"I found myself driving past convenience stores,
even when they weren't on the way home."
--H.I. McDonnough, Raising Arizona

You can tell you've been on a diet for awhile when you start looking for excuses to just gaze at food. I've started watching Food Network. At first, I just watched the diet-related shows, ostensibly to get ready for the transition to the maintenance phase of my diet. Then I started watching Emeril. Oh, the slippery slope!

The good news is that I've lost a total of 23 lbs. I'm a little over one-third of the way to my goal, and am starting to feel like my old (slender) self again. So I gotta put the kibosh on this Food Network stuff, pronto.

Happy Monday, everyone.

PFUD, Begone!
Got the right sleeve started, and bound off the bottom. Zip, zip! this little sweater should be done this weekend.



I'm feeling the need to knit a sweater for my brother, who is going through some tough times right now. I'm thinking maybe this, in a nice tweedy blue WoolEase that's been aging in my stash. I'm loving these topdown, seamless sweaters! So quick, and no piecing. Works for me.

More Random Amy-ness

I Love …
Sharpie pens

I Can't Stand …
Poor manners

I Miss …
Boots the Chemist in London

I Wish …
I knew then what I know now

I'm Grateful ...
I had gastric-bypass surgery in 1998

Happy Friday, everyone.

PFUD Progress
I'm on the last row of ribbing at the bottom of the sweater -- will try to bind off during lunch today. Then two quick sleeves, and off it goes to my niece in Portland! I love knitting kids clothing -- so much quicker than humongous adult stuff.



Knit Bloggers Are the Nicest People - Part II
Ooh! Ooh! Marcia wrote me a Blog Thank-You Note! We started out as Blog Newbies around the same time last summer, and supported each other via our comments as we slowly attracted new readers to our fledgling blog efforts. Marcia describes much more eloquently than me the special and unique nature of the knit blogging community, and how serendipity led her to it. Read her sweet post. As usual, she cuts right to the heart of the matter and leaves the reader feeling good. Yes, I sent Marcia a silly little gift. But I (and her readers) get a gift from her, every time she posts.

Work is hella-busy, today, so I'll amuse you with the following fun link.

See ya tomorrow. Don't borrow. Feed a sparrow. Don't ding your car-o.

Pretty in Pink
Made a lot of progress on the Pink Fiesta Upside-Downer this weekend:

I wish I was 6 years old so *I* could wear this!


I'm hoping to finish PFUD by the end of the week. I think the Aran Poncho may be going to Portland, too, for my sister. I wore it this weekend and really liked it, but I think she'd get more wear out of it.

Welcome to My World
The scene: My sis and me shopping at Wally World in Portland last August. 5yo niece ensconced comfortably in the shopping cart. The mission: Purchase new panties for me, because mine somehow, ahem, disappeared from my packed suitcase enroute from San Diego to Portland. Dear Alaska Airline Employee Who Stole My Underwear: Are you getting a thrill? Geez, they were just plain old tighty-whities … not even Victoria's Secret Angels underwear. More like Victoria's Secret if they made a Civil Servant line.

So here we are, maneuvering a huge plastic 'n metal cart through overstuffed aisles and departments, doing the Good Consumer Bit along the way (plastic hair thingies for Niece since they're always getting lost, munchies that sis 'n me definitely don't need, hair gel, etc.) Eventually, we weave our way into the Intimate Apparel department. I pick out some new underpants (are you listening, Alaska Employee? Don't miss your chance for fun on my return trip!) The IA department is particularly stuffed with all manner of lacey, poofy, padded undergarments. It's nearly impossible to steer the Monster Cart through the aisles without snagging a bustier or three.

We finish our undercover work and head toward the checkout registers at the front of the store. "Do you hear that noise?" asks my sister. "No, I only hear Olivia singing that same Veggie Tales tune over and over," I reply. We unload the cart at the register: underwear, snacks, kid, hair junk. My sister leans down and snags something off the wheels of the cart and holds it up for inspection. Dangling from a plastic hangar is a very tiny, gold 'n black metallic leopard print thong panty, profusely trimmed with black marabou feathers. Apparently, it had gotten snagged off a display and caught on the cart's wheels. The thong's high-speed wheel flapping accounted for the rhythmic "fluh, fluh, fluh, fluh" noise my sister had heard.

The cashier was a no-nonsense, older woman. The three of us looked at the thong, then at each other. Wordlessly, the cashier motioned for the thong. Sis handed it to her. She flung it into a restocking box under the counter, and proceeded to ring us up without a word. We managed to make it out to the car before totally falling apart with laughter.

Bait 'n Switch
Ha! You thought I was firmly ensconced in the making of the Cable Hoodie! But you were deceived by my superior slight-of-hand technique, and are dazzled by my ability to manipulate pink acrylic yarn for hours on end! (OK, I'll stop talking like I'm in a '70s Kung Fu movie)

Lo, feast your eyes on the Pink Fiesta Upside-Downer, a simple pullover for my 6yo niece, who adores pink. Pattern from Paton's Upside Downers (Easy Pullovers Knit from the Top Down). The yarn is Red Heart "Fiesta," a nice soft acrylic with a shiny, multi-colored rayon thread twisted into it. I chose Baby Pink, which has a thread that is light blue, sherbet orange, fuschia, pale yellow, and white, and makes a nice, flecked pattern as it's knit. Perfect for a girly-girl like my niece.



Blast from the Past
My mother has a unique sense of humor. She often chooses a "theme" for my birthday or Christmas presents, and this year was no different. This year's Christmas theme: Nuns. Yes, nuns. One of my stocking stuffer presents was this:



Oh, no! Look out, Tokyo! Go, go, Nunzilla! Yes, it's Nunzilla, a wind-up, walking, ruler-carrying nun that bears an amazing likeness to my 4th grade teacher Sister Elizabeth. Wind up Nunzilla, then watch sparks fly from her mouth as she walks! Ah, I can hear Sr. Elizabeth now, "Who's chewing gum? No gum in the classroom! Get out your New Testament and turn to John 13:34. Who's volunteering for the parish bake sale at recess? No volunteers? Then I'll pick them. Amy, Julie, John, Brendan, go to the 8th grade classroom and they'll tell you what to do. Expect extra homework this weekend, I think we had it rather easy this week ..."

Sr. Elizabeth was definitely Old School -- she ran her classroom as efficiently as Patton routing Italy. But you know what? I learned more in her class than just about any other teacher I've ever had, even though she had me half-scared to death most of the time.

Happy Friday, everyone.

Knit Bloggers Are the Nicest People
Kate is hosting a Must Have Cardigan knitalong at her site. Remember this cardie? I dubbed it the Sweater from Hell when I was knitting it last summer, mainly because it was the first major project I chose after a 15-year hiatus from knitting (see "Must Have Cardigan" under Finished Projects for a picture). Honestly, it's a pretty simple pattern. The only problem is that it's pretty close-fitting (only goes up to a 41" finished bust size). Not a problem for my mom, who's quite tiny, but perhaps a problem for others. Not to fear! Kate has graciously upsized the pattern to fit up to a 46" bust (49" finished size). Link here. Thanks, Kate!

Talking about the Must Have Cardi allows a graceful segue to my next project, also from Paton's Street Smart booklet. It's the front cover design, called Cable Hoodie:



I'm knitting it in the yarn called for in the pattern, Paton's Classic Merino Wool, in a color called Faded Blue. Both yarn and book are available at both Beehive Wool and Ram Wools.

However, I lucked out and got my Classic Wool on sale from Herrschners for the bargain basement price of $2.99 per skein, which puts this project firmly in the Cheap 'n Chic category! Even at full price, I think Paton's Classic Wool is a bargain. Great yardage per skein (223 yards), reasonable price (Ram Wools has it listed for $4.99/skein; 10-skein bags for $44.90), wide selection of colors, a nice firm hand and slightly hard finish which shows off cable work very well, and because it's merino, it's not itchy like other pure wool yarns (Lite Lopi, for instance). Here's my progress to date on the back:



Random Amy-ness

I Love …
Joe Brown Caramel Corn (only available in Portland)

I Can't Stand …
Neurotic people

I Miss …
My grandma

I Wish …
I was taller

I Regret …
Not finishing college at a younger age

I'm Grateful ...
I met & married my second husband

Happy Wednesday, everyone.

Squeaking in under the 2003 Projects wire, may I present the Aran Poncho. The pattern is by Norah Gaughan, from Lopi #21. The yarn is Light Lopi, in Oatmeal (book and yarn available at Woodland Woolworks). I had a lot of fun knitting this up. It's basically 2 long rectangles, with a ribbed edging and neckline. The cable pattern is very easy. The Light Lopi yarn was interesting to handle; it was a bit scratchy, but softened up with use. It became even softer and loftier after washing. I'll model it for y'all after it's dried, hokay?

Block Me Gently, Block Me Slowly


Geez.
"Well, I guess Dick's still alive."
"No, I haven't seen him, but the detectives called yesterday."
"No, they haven't seen him, but they found his car."
--Woman that I overhead talking on her cell in Home Depot, week before Christmas.

True story; I overheard this cell conversation snippet while Christmas shopping. I love the website In Passing. Eva overhears the most incredible bits of conversation in San Francisco, where she resides. Maybe reading the entries on her site primed me to pay more attention to the random flow of public conversation? Who knows.

Musings on 2003
It was a year of highs (my weight, RockStar's improving grades), and lows (the October wildfires, RockStar's $20,000 flooding of the house). I really don't like saying I "survived" the year because that implies that I merely endured, rather than really lived. But it truly was a difficult year for me, physically and emotionally.

But you know what? I had 5 days off, starting on December 31st. I had a lot of time to relax, knit, and think. I identified some issues I need to work on. I let go of some issues I have no control over. I confronted some behaviors I'm ashamed of, and will work on improving them. At the end of the vacation, I ended up with a lighter heart. Things ain't perfect, but they're pretty darn good. And I'm OK with that.

Happy 2004, everyone.

New Year graphic pulled to save bandwidth
Happy 2004, everyone!

Holiday graphic pulled to save bandwidth
Hey kids! It's becoming too difficult to get any computer time at Casa de YarnOver during the flood restoration. So I'm gonna hang up the blog for a few weeks.

See everyone in 2004! Have a safe and healthy holiday season!

OK! The whining of yesterday is officially over. Got lots of nice cyberhugs from my readers, I did! Made me feel much better. Break out the gingerbread cookies! Oh. I forgot I'm on a diet. OK, a round of protein shakes for all! Soy-based and everything! Oh. You don't want one. (don't blame you, actually!)

Here's how I'm getting myself into the Christmas spirit at work:

My Own Little Christmas Tree (about 18" in height)


True Confessions Time
I have a dirty little secret. I don't always swatch for gauge. Most of the time, I escape without serious injury to myself or the knitted item. But occasionally I have a flat-out disaster.

What Is It?


I Know! It's a Felted Candy Dish!


The CSI team is still on-site, investigating. Their preliminary findings indicate that the perpetrator attempted to knit a Bucket O'Chic hat in Lamb's Pride worsted. Further investigation revealed that perpetrator allegedly knit said bucket without swatching for gauge. Hence, the senseless felting of innocent Lamb's Pride into something resembling a winter hat for Strawberry Shortcake.



Happy Friday, everyone!

I'm tired.
Uninspired.
Pretty much mired.

Feelin' low.
Lost that glow.
San Diego; no snow.

What's a girl to do,
But whine to you.
I'm gonna go get a Coke.
Somebody tell a joke.

This time of the year is rarely festive for me. DH's busiest time of the year at work occurs smack in the middle of the holiday season. RockStar's mom has only let us have him once for Christmas (he's 15); he heads back to North Carolina next week. My house is torn apart during the flood restoration. I miss my family in Oregon terribly.

I need a big ol' shot of Christmas Spirit, stat!

Just so y'all don't think I'm a total schmuck, I consider myself extremely blessed in my life and family. Just had to let off steam, know what I mean? Good.

I'm not going to bore you with endless pictures of the Aran Poncho as it progresses. Instead, I'll treat you to what came in the mail over the last few days:

Peruvian Connection Baby Cashmere from Elann


Estelle Mohair Shawl from Ram Wools


Patons "Pull Up Your Socks" Book from Ram Wools


Hope everyone is getting the Christmas spirit! Personally, my decorating theme this year involves fresh drywall and spackle, but feel free to choose something that might be a bit more, well, traditional.

Happy Wednesday, everyone.

The Cavalry Has Arrived!
The contractors are arriving to start the drywall work at our house, apres flood. Posting may be a bit spotty since one of the affected areas is the home office and there'll probably be a few days with no computer access.

Weekend Hijinx
Actually knit a few rows on Aran Poncho while at, of all things, a Los Angeles Kings hockey game! Mind you, all knitular activity was accomplished prior to the faceoff -- RockStar kept giving me anxious looks and finally couldn't control himself. "You're not going to knit during the game, are you?" he asked. "No, don't worry. I won't embarrass you in front of all these macho Kings fans," I replied. The tix were freebies, courtesy of my BIL. He assists in recording stats while his old hometown team, the Washington Capitals, play on the West Coast.



Made for a loooong day (didn't get home from LA until after midnight), but we got to show RockStar a bit of LA (Santa Monica), which he thought was quite cool. We dined outside at a cafe on the Promenade, where he was transfixed by a very talented flamenco guitarist busking on the street. Yes, dining outside in December. It's one of the nicest perks of living in Southern California. RockStar is transitioning from heavy metal to classical guitar (think Andres Segovia). It's quite beautiful to listen to, but the long fingernails on his picking hand are a bit disconcerting until you get used to them. All in all, a very nice day was had by all.

Happy Monday, everyone.

A New Cubicle Visitor
This little fellow flew into my cubicle yesterday, courtesy of a coworker who also owns a parrot. We indulge in "bird-speak" quite a bit. People think we're nuts, but anyone who owns a parrot would understand.

Peep! Peep!


He now lives in a quiet corner of my cubicle, sparkling in the light of a small lamp. My cube is in a kind of dark corner of the office, and the auxiliary light helps. Plus, it shines on that handsome couple in the picture! (aw, aren't they cute?)

Serenity in Cubeville


Happy Friday, everyone.

Blogger is Weird
I don't understand its capricious whims. To quote Forrest Gump, "that's all I have to say about that."

C'mon! We're Going to the Frog Pond!
But it's a good thing, really. When I started the Aran Poncho, I cast onto circular needles without thinking. I'm not liking the results. The "pull" of the circular cables is causing some loose-looking stitches that I'm not happy with. So I'm frogging and recasting onto my favorite Swallow casein needles today. I know a lot of people like to do flat knitting on circulars, but it seems I ain't one of 'em.

Happy Thursday! One day closer to Friday!

Poncho Progress
Didn't have time to felt the Bucket-O-Chic hat last night, but I did have a few minutes to finish up the first pattern repeat of Aran Poncho:

One Down, Many More to Go


Feelin' The Love
Got a package in the mail from Elann yesterday ... new patterns!

Cabin Fever Shawl Pattern: Evening in Eden


Eyelet Ribbed Top by Jackie Erickson-Schweitzer


From Stahl #22


Gotta keep this short -- lots to do today. Happy Wednesday, everyone.

Felt Me, Baby
Betwixt cooking, housework avoidance, and general merriment over the long holiday weekend, I worked on this:

Looks Kinda Like Roadkill, Doesn't It?


It's a pre-felted, Bucket-O-Chic hat for my 6yo niece. I made it in Lamb's Pride, Amethyst shade. The Lamb's Pride has that touch o' mohair in it, which makes it very nice to work with.

I just couldn't bring myself to seam up LoTech Sangria this weekend. Just felt like too much work. I have to be in a certain Zen state to tackle a bunch of mattress stitching, and I just wasn't feelin' it. So it's simmering gently in the WIP pile for now. I did find one of the reasons that the hood is too big -- silly me, I knitted an extra 4" onto the length of the hood. Yup, that'll do it. So we have a semi-frog situation on our hands, which will be dealt with in due time.

Meanwhile, I needed a "car knitting" project to work on while RockStar is at his weekly guitar lesson. So I started the Aran Poncho from Lopi #21:

From Little Seeds Grow Big Ponchos


The Lite Lopi is definitely scratchier than the Lamb's Pride, but since it'll be outerwear it won't be a problem. The poncho design is by Nora Gaughan. I love her work -- no errors (so far) and a classic take on a funky clothing item.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like "Less-Mass"
Yeah, I'm probably nuts to be doing this during holiday season, but I've started a serious diet. I'm on the Medifast plan for at least the next few months. I tossed around a lot of ideas (Weight Watchers, SlimFast, Atkins, etc.) and decided that this plan would be the safest, most effective way to shed the excess weight. Plus, it's not cheap, so I'm motivated by not wasting the money I've invested in the Medifast products. I started on Saturday, November 29th, so I was able to enjoy Thanksgiving. I don't have any entertaining plans for Christmas, so it seemed like a good time to start this project.

I'm doing the Full Fast for the first 2 weeks, then will consider going to the Modified Fast for the duration. Full Fast is pretty austere -- 1 Medifast Oatmeal (breakfast), 2 Medifast protein shakes during the day, Medifast Chili for dinner, and a 3rd shake at 8pm. Plus a big handful of vitamins, and gallons of water. The Modified Fast substitutes a sensible dinner of 4oz of protein (chicken breast), salad w/fatfree dressing, and non-starchy veggie. Look for a meter of some sort on the side of the page to track my progress.

Happy Monday, everyone.