1. Absently scratch my nose while slicing cheese with a sharp knife (resulted in a weird looking scratch and darn near took out an eye).
2. Put a (loose) sock on the head of a grumpy cat. I know, it sounds like fun. However, said grumpy cat may have been grumpy because of a soon-to-be-ejected hairball. The hoped for hilarity did NOT ensue.
3. Run upstairs to grab the phone in the kitchen, while wearing brand-new-just-off-the-needles wool socks. In mathematical terms:
[wool socks + vinyl flooring]^corner at high speed = buises + a groin pull.
4. Go out in public with a compromised immune system. I have spent the last month catching every cold, cough, flu, and other bug going around. There have been maybe three days in November wherein I felt healthy.
5. Use crappy health from cold/cough/flu whatever as an excuse to sink into the depths of melancholy. November has been a less than fun month.
6. Eat nothing but instant snack food and carbohydrates. Bad. Really, really, bad. Makes it hard to get out of a funk. However, I'm pretty much ready for that whole scene to end, now.
7. Stop blogging, because I'm just depressing myself. Idiot. Blogging is how I express myself - it helps pull me through the grumpies.
Now, things I WILL do: eat healthy meals thrice daily, hydrate properly, walk outside regularly, spend less time online futzing aimlessly and more time cuddling the cats, and generally look at life from a better place.
Also, if I don't, Christmas is coming, and will completely f*ck me if I'm not careful. Woo hoo.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Saturday, November 05, 2005
The State of the Carpet Today
Yesterday was a major housework day. You know the type - I vacuumed, use the crevice tool on the edges (very rare here as I'm not a fan of work in any form, and the crevice tool isn't just housework, it's a tool, too), and then I steam cleaned the upstairs.
Our house is 1400 square feet on the top level, and around 1100 downstairs. Steaming the upstairs carpet was a pretty major job.
Afterwards, I celebrated by vacuuming the stairs between the levels. My reward was having the vacuum tumble down three steps while I was attempting to switch heads to the crevice tool (damn that crevice tool) and land on my right hand. Ouch is not what I said at the time, but will do for explanation.
This morning, DH & I were enjoying a sleep in on a sunny Saturday, when we heard that dreaded sound . . . a Massive Hurk-Fest was taking place. We shuddered, pulled the covers over our heads, and avoided as long as possible. However, eventually we had to face it. After Hurk-Fest removal and spot treatment, I realized, sadly, that further steaming would be required. Damn.
So, instead of having a care-free weekend with a spotless carpet and dust-free crevices, we will be walking carefully to avoid damp spots where I had to use the steamer again.
There goes our plan of rolling around on the floor, buck naked in a sun-beam. And I was sooo ready for naked roll-fest, I had even shaved my legs! Above the knee! Sigh.
Our house is 1400 square feet on the top level, and around 1100 downstairs. Steaming the upstairs carpet was a pretty major job.
Afterwards, I celebrated by vacuuming the stairs between the levels. My reward was having the vacuum tumble down three steps while I was attempting to switch heads to the crevice tool (damn that crevice tool) and land on my right hand. Ouch is not what I said at the time, but will do for explanation.
This morning, DH & I were enjoying a sleep in on a sunny Saturday, when we heard that dreaded sound . . . a Massive Hurk-Fest was taking place. We shuddered, pulled the covers over our heads, and avoided as long as possible. However, eventually we had to face it. After Hurk-Fest removal and spot treatment, I realized, sadly, that further steaming would be required. Damn.
So, instead of having a care-free weekend with a spotless carpet and dust-free crevices, we will be walking carefully to avoid damp spots where I had to use the steamer again.
There goes our plan of rolling around on the floor, buck naked in a sun-beam. And I was sooo ready for naked roll-fest, I had even shaved my legs! Above the knee! Sigh.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Last night on television...
Did anyone else watch "The Closer" with Kyra Sedgewick? It is not really a show I an enamoured with, but hey, I was sitting in the dark and hoping that the Halloween Trick-or-Treaters would magically vanish, so I didn't screw around with channel surfing. Yes, I ran out of candy. At 6:45pm. Doh!
Anyway, on The Closer, the mother of the autistic teenaged boy (ex-wife of the murdered judge) was wearing this lace-y thing that I am IN LOVE WITH!!!!! It was not quite a stole, not quite a cardigan. It had a normal back and sleeves (set in, all lace) and then these ginormous lace panels on the front that could be thrown over the shoulder to engulf the wearer in lace, lace, lace. If not in the mood for lace around the shoulders, they could be left to hang, something like a swing coat front.
Yummy! Delicious! Me want! Me must make! And, I just picked up the Barbara Walker Treasury of Stitch Patterns (which has all of my favorite lace patterns, as well as many I hadn't yet seen, all in one place). I could make something featuring a number of different lace panels. Wee hee!
But, focus must be kept, deadlines must be met - because Christmas is (still) coming. My Christmas knitting is coming along well, and I made a child's scarf last night (while hiding from other children). The list, for those that are mocking me:
Finished: Mom's husband, older brother, grandfather, uncle, mother-in-law, brother's girlfriend, her daughter, her son, other brother's girlfriend.
In process: Mom, brother-in-law, his wife.
Not yet started: Father-in-law, grandmother, younger brother.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
Anyway, on The Closer, the mother of the autistic teenaged boy (ex-wife of the murdered judge) was wearing this lace-y thing that I am IN LOVE WITH!!!!! It was not quite a stole, not quite a cardigan. It had a normal back and sleeves (set in, all lace) and then these ginormous lace panels on the front that could be thrown over the shoulder to engulf the wearer in lace, lace, lace. If not in the mood for lace around the shoulders, they could be left to hang, something like a swing coat front.
Yummy! Delicious! Me want! Me must make! And, I just picked up the Barbara Walker Treasury of Stitch Patterns (which has all of my favorite lace patterns, as well as many I hadn't yet seen, all in one place). I could make something featuring a number of different lace panels. Wee hee!
But, focus must be kept, deadlines must be met - because Christmas is (still) coming. My Christmas knitting is coming along well, and I made a child's scarf last night (while hiding from other children). The list, for those that are mocking me:
Finished: Mom's husband, older brother, grandfather, uncle, mother-in-law, brother's girlfriend, her daughter, her son, other brother's girlfriend.
In process: Mom, brother-in-law, his wife.
Not yet started: Father-in-law, grandmother, younger brother.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Sunshine on a Cold Day
I've been a bad blogger. Sorry.
Last week was pretty much about mourning the most recent loss, and the first half of this week was about daily outpatient treatment, in Edmonton (a 4.5 hour drive from here, each way). So it is official: the Bubble de Logan is no longer.
In the good news column, however, is that we have been ordered to keep the next three months as "strictly recreational" and in January, we go in for a massive amount of testing (my specialist calls it the $1000 testing) to try and find out why the Bubble de Logan and its predecessors all bit the dust in 6 - 12 weeks. Maybe some good will come out of this yet!
On the quilting front, I am right now feeling quite the itch to get back to my studio. I've tidied up the work area, but have yet to tackle the cutting table or the design wall. Plus, I'm slowly working my way through the piles of stuff I have accumulated that prevent me from standing back and perusing my fabric stash. It is coming together, though slowly.
We are having family (mine) here this Christmas, so I want to get the fabric/yarn room in enough order to put a guest bed in there if necessary - or at least to hide in there if the family gets rambunctious. What, my family, rambunctious? Oh, yeah, baby. We've been known to have fart contests at the table during Christmas dinner - that's what you get when you're the only girl.
My brothers, whom I love and adore, are big, brash, and not the least bit refined. You can dress them up nicely, but they're more likely to burp out the words to the national anthem than sing it. DH loves having them around, as all the standard rules of conduct go right out the window. They're not rude all of the time, just, you know, whenever we're dressed up and trying to be polite.
Anyway, I'm hoping to have a new quilt ready for the guest bedroom, a matching wall hanging, and a new wall hanging for the master bedroom as well, all done by Christmas. As well as the zillion or so gifts I'm knitting. And the new large square shawl (which will be a throw/wrap for the guest room). Oy. Better get started!
Last week was pretty much about mourning the most recent loss, and the first half of this week was about daily outpatient treatment, in Edmonton (a 4.5 hour drive from here, each way). So it is official: the Bubble de Logan is no longer.
In the good news column, however, is that we have been ordered to keep the next three months as "strictly recreational" and in January, we go in for a massive amount of testing (my specialist calls it the $1000 testing) to try and find out why the Bubble de Logan and its predecessors all bit the dust in 6 - 12 weeks. Maybe some good will come out of this yet!
On the quilting front, I am right now feeling quite the itch to get back to my studio. I've tidied up the work area, but have yet to tackle the cutting table or the design wall. Plus, I'm slowly working my way through the piles of stuff I have accumulated that prevent me from standing back and perusing my fabric stash. It is coming together, though slowly.
We are having family (mine) here this Christmas, so I want to get the fabric/yarn room in enough order to put a guest bed in there if necessary - or at least to hide in there if the family gets rambunctious. What, my family, rambunctious? Oh, yeah, baby. We've been known to have fart contests at the table during Christmas dinner - that's what you get when you're the only girl.
My brothers, whom I love and adore, are big, brash, and not the least bit refined. You can dress them up nicely, but they're more likely to burp out the words to the national anthem than sing it. DH loves having them around, as all the standard rules of conduct go right out the window. They're not rude all of the time, just, you know, whenever we're dressed up and trying to be polite.
Anyway, I'm hoping to have a new quilt ready for the guest bedroom, a matching wall hanging, and a new wall hanging for the master bedroom as well, all done by Christmas. As well as the zillion or so gifts I'm knitting. And the new large square shawl (which will be a throw/wrap for the guest room). Oy. Better get started!
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Poked with a Sharp Stick
Off to the city again to get "examined" by a specialist in burst bubbles. Fun.
Monday, October 17, 2005
GrumbleFutz
Some days are just grumblefutz days. Today the sun is shining, the wind is gentle, the temperature mild, and yet I'm grumblefutzing my arse off. The malady is melancholy. Poetic, huh?
It seems that the Bubble has burst. Am still waiting for the results of the latest series of blood tests, but know in my heart that it's over. I'll try and pull my head out of my arse later this week, but for now I'm going to stay in grumblefutz land. Knitting, with tea and a cat. And wool socks (stole some from the husband). And my hap shawl. And a homemade quilt or two.
Maybe, once medical confirmation of the end of the Bubble has come in, I will drown myself in apricot brandy. Seems like a sensible thing to do.
It seems that the Bubble has burst. Am still waiting for the results of the latest series of blood tests, but know in my heart that it's over. I'll try and pull my head out of my arse later this week, but for now I'm going to stay in grumblefutz land. Knitting, with tea and a cat. And wool socks (stole some from the husband). And my hap shawl. And a homemade quilt or two.
Maybe, once medical confirmation of the end of the Bubble has come in, I will drown myself in apricot brandy. Seems like a sensible thing to do.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Logan needs...
Tee hee. Found a new thing going around in the blogosphere, and had to try it. Google "[your name] needs", and then enjoy the hilarity that ensues. I tried to limit my list to the top five, but way too much hilarity ensued, so here (in no particular order), are some of the things that Logan needs...
... to hear Bobby say it out loud, that it's okay like this, raw and deep, with nothing between them except the slick, wet heat of the moment.
... secure fencing, and a big yard.
... a ride that means business.
... a specialty harness to keep [her] in the seat while we are on the road.
... to take action.
... defending, since [s]he's such a brat, but defending [her] would be betraying the correct way of living. Dirty communist.
... another Wal Mart like Logan needs another Chinese Buffet.
... to be f#cked with a sharp stick.
... to be less timid about bossing around teammates.
... to take a good hard look in the mirror.
... needs to go.
And on that final note, Logan is outta here. Until tomorrow, anyway. Toodles.
... to hear Bobby say it out loud, that it's okay like this, raw and deep, with nothing between them except the slick, wet heat of the moment.
... secure fencing, and a big yard.
... a ride that means business.
... a specialty harness to keep [her] in the seat while we are on the road.
... to take action.
... defending, since [s]he's such a brat, but defending [her] would be betraying the correct way of living. Dirty communist.
... another Wal Mart like Logan needs another Chinese Buffet.
... to be f#cked with a sharp stick.
... to be less timid about bossing around teammates.
... to take a good hard look in the mirror.
... needs to go.
And on that final note, Logan is outta here. Until tomorrow, anyway. Toodles.
Friday, October 14, 2005
It's just one of those days...
DebR is addicted to blog quizzes. Usually, I am amused or touched by her results, but don't bother doing the quiz myself. Today, ignoring this quiz was impossible. Yup, I succumbed to the quiz called "Which Absurd Cat are You?" - and my results were, well, umm, uhh, ... absurd but appropriate?
 |
| You scored as Pissed at the World Cat. And here we have the next serial killer. Try having some cotton candy, it'll make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, Psycho. |
Which Absurd Cat are you? created with QuizFarm.com |
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Christmas, it be a-comin'
Christmas is coming. Last year, I had a plan - custom made reversible quilted placemat / runner combinations for everyone. I started working on the gifts late summer, and was done, quilted, and ready to wrap by November. It worked out really well, and the gifts were well received.
This year I have another plan. Hand knitted scarves for everyone (except Dad & his wife, who put in a special request for this Christmas).
I collected the yarn while on my gad-about with Mom, Adrian and Carla in early September, and by the time I got back from that trip, had already finished two (of the 15 I need to make). Yarn weight, fiber content, and colour was selected specifically for each person.
Scarves for men are pretty predictable - most of the men in my family tend to like plain, boring knitting, so are getting scarf stitch (aka mistake rib). To get that over with (and avoid dread of an abundance of plain boring Aran weight scarves), I worked on those first. Of the 5 of those, 4 are finished, and the last one is for a 5-year old, so will be little(whew). Of the three additional men I need gifts for, two will get Fancy-Man* scarves, and the last, well, I have no friggin' idea what to do for him. He may not get a scarf at all. We'll see. * I define Fancy-Man scarves as still knitted in scarf stitch/mistake rib, but with swanky shiny (silk content) fingering weight yarn, rather than heavy Aran weight yarn.
The women, however, are a different story. I really don't want to give them all variations on the same thing (even though that's what I'm doing for the men - double standards abound in LoganLand). And, I have a lace knittin' thang going on right now. So, each woman is getting a custom selected yarn AND a custom selected lace patterned scarf. The first (and only completed woman's scarf so far) was Branching Out, from Knitty.com. The rest I am designing as I go, based on lace patterns I've found in a number of different places. And, like the one man I'm not sure of, there is one woman in the bunch who I just can't pin down. Should she get a shoulder shawl instead? Or lace gloves? I just don't know. Will have to wait and see.
Anyway, now that I've rambled and rambled and rambled, you've probably figured out that knitting scarves is currently boring the cr@p out of me. As such, this morning I started knitting a work sock for DH. He loves his home-made work socks, and I hope to have two pairs ready for him for Christmas. Which means Second Sock Syndrome, times two. Oy. Also, he likes his socks plain. Really plain. Like solid charcoal, with an allowable two stripes, but they have to be in the same place, the same width, and the same colour (dark red). Or, medium gray, with the requisite two red stripes. If I want to get really wild, I might be able to convince him to accept oatmeal as a main colour, but (of course) with the same requisite two red stripes. Although, oatmeal as a main colour may be so scare-ily different that the stripes will need to be charcoal to make them more acceptable. That's my man. Stable, dependable, and don't mess with my socks, dammit!
Gotta say, I'm really looking forward to the one quilted gift on the list (for Dad & Marion). Especially seeing as how with the bubble on board, I can't drink myself into believing that this repetitive knitting is fun, fun, fun.
All for hand made gifts. Which I love to give. And are worth it. But oy, the knitting. Next year, something quilted again.
This year I have another plan. Hand knitted scarves for everyone (except Dad & his wife, who put in a special request for this Christmas).
I collected the yarn while on my gad-about with Mom, Adrian and Carla in early September, and by the time I got back from that trip, had already finished two (of the 15 I need to make). Yarn weight, fiber content, and colour was selected specifically for each person.
Scarves for men are pretty predictable - most of the men in my family tend to like plain, boring knitting, so are getting scarf stitch (aka mistake rib). To get that over with (and avoid dread of an abundance of plain boring Aran weight scarves), I worked on those first. Of the 5 of those, 4 are finished, and the last one is for a 5-year old, so will be little(whew). Of the three additional men I need gifts for, two will get Fancy-Man* scarves, and the last, well, I have no friggin' idea what to do for him. He may not get a scarf at all. We'll see. * I define Fancy-Man scarves as still knitted in scarf stitch/mistake rib, but with swanky shiny (silk content) fingering weight yarn, rather than heavy Aran weight yarn.
The women, however, are a different story. I really don't want to give them all variations on the same thing (even though that's what I'm doing for the men - double standards abound in LoganLand). And, I have a lace knittin' thang going on right now. So, each woman is getting a custom selected yarn AND a custom selected lace patterned scarf. The first (and only completed woman's scarf so far) was Branching Out, from Knitty.com. The rest I am designing as I go, based on lace patterns I've found in a number of different places. And, like the one man I'm not sure of, there is one woman in the bunch who I just can't pin down. Should she get a shoulder shawl instead? Or lace gloves? I just don't know. Will have to wait and see.
Anyway, now that I've rambled and rambled and rambled, you've probably figured out that knitting scarves is currently boring the cr@p out of me. As such, this morning I started knitting a work sock for DH. He loves his home-made work socks, and I hope to have two pairs ready for him for Christmas. Which means Second Sock Syndrome, times two. Oy. Also, he likes his socks plain. Really plain. Like solid charcoal, with an allowable two stripes, but they have to be in the same place, the same width, and the same colour (dark red). Or, medium gray, with the requisite two red stripes. If I want to get really wild, I might be able to convince him to accept oatmeal as a main colour, but (of course) with the same requisite two red stripes. Although, oatmeal as a main colour may be so scare-ily different that the stripes will need to be charcoal to make them more acceptable. That's my man. Stable, dependable, and don't mess with my socks, dammit!
Gotta say, I'm really looking forward to the one quilted gift on the list (for Dad & Marion). Especially seeing as how with the bubble on board, I can't drink myself into believing that this repetitive knitting is fun, fun, fun.
All for hand made gifts. Which I love to give. And are worth it. But oy, the knitting. Next year, something quilted again.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
All is quiet on the homefront
Not much going on here that is blog-worthy. DH is working, I'm knitting and quilting and avoiding the housework, critters are licking themselves in a sunbeam, and world is alright.
Bubble is still with us, and now has a fun trick of making me regret not just eating, but drinking too. Even water makes me nauseous. Oy. If this one is going to end (like all the preceding bubbles so far), I hope it finishes soon - although the weight loss is kind of a nifty side effect. We're not getting our hopes up, as they've been dashed way too many times. However, it's kind of interesting how something so microscopic can completely take over and f*ck with my body. And I though I was in control. Hah!
Okay, back to the couch for me. And if I get adventurous, maybe some time on the balcony in the sun.
Bubble is still with us, and now has a fun trick of making me regret not just eating, but drinking too. Even water makes me nauseous. Oy. If this one is going to end (like all the preceding bubbles so far), I hope it finishes soon - although the weight loss is kind of a nifty side effect. We're not getting our hopes up, as they've been dashed way too many times. However, it's kind of interesting how something so microscopic can completely take over and f*ck with my body. And I though I was in control. Hah!
Okay, back to the couch for me. And if I get adventurous, maybe some time on the balcony in the sun.
Friday, October 07, 2005
Finished Object Alert
After 20 days of garter stitch madness, my Hap (Everyday Shawl) is done! After a Eucalaan Lavender bath, I blocked it to the width of a queen sized bed (60"), and used the stripes on the liner of an old comforter as a pinning guide. The critters were not happy about being shut out of the guest room overnight! 
Once it was dry, I unpinned it and took it outside for a photo shoot. The strong gusts of wind made for interesting acrobatics, but the Hap seemed to enjoy being aired outside. Maybe later today it will make its uptown debut when I go grocery shopping.
Specifics: Shetland Shawl by Sidna Farley, page 26 of The Best of Knitter's Shawls and Scarves. Used 7 1/2 balls of the Rockies Brown shade of Shetland 4-Ply, by Harris Tweed Textiles, from Elann.com (approximately 1600m / 1750yds). Knitted on US size 10 needles (~6mm). Cast on 2 stitches, then knitted section by section, with no internal cast offs or sewing required. Garter stitch grafted edging (13 stitches) to finish. I did make some minor modifications to the pattern (changes in the lace only).
After fighting the wind, I brought it inside for a still life shot, with serving dishes, on our 60" diameter oak table. The kitchen table gets a lot of natural light, so the colour is pretty darn true.
Also finished is a scarf I'm calling Persnickety. This is standard fern lace, knitted in opposite directions from the middle to make it symmetrical. Tassels were added for a touch of frivolity. I charted the pattern and added my notes, so if you are interested, email me and I will send it out (pdf file).
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Some Things that are Growing
Some things that are growing in my household right now...
- my everyday wear Hap shawl (7/8ths of the edging finished, so damn near fully grown);
- the finished knitted Christmas presents pile (I always start early, as I tend to slump in November then panic in December);
- the stack of dishes specifically designated for use during a large (for us) gathering (there will be a minimum of 8 here at Christmas, so we had to buy extra plates, larger serving dishes, and still need to get more cutlery);
- the blue/green fungus on the old loaf of bread in the pantry (since located and disposed of);
- the microscopic bundle of cells I am carrying in my uterus (ultrasound confirmed correct placement of said bundle of cells, although what was actually viewed on the ultrasound was a bubble/yolk sac). My hormone levels have continued to rise, and as correct placement has been confirmed, yay bundle of cells!
Some things that are not growing around here include...
- the leaves (all have faded from green, and most are now down due to strong autumn winds);
- my arse (I've lost three more pounds, probably due to stress and sleeping through meals);
- whatever it was that two teenage girls buried out behind my yard. Very, very weird. I saw two teeny-boppers leaving the area with a shovel, sniffling a bit, before we went to Edmonton for tests. Today I noticed there is a freshly turned pile of earth with a little plastic cross and some toys out there, right behind our yard. Creepy. I'm not sure on the etiquette of this, but if I had any idea who the girls were, I'd be asking them to relocate the final resting place of Fluffy or Guinea Pig or whatever they buried, so that I don't have to look out on the grave while eating my morning oatmeal - especially seeing as the local dogs have been sniffing around there quite a bit, and if we get a digger, I expect to find remains strewn about my back yard. Ugh.
Tomorrow, photos of some sort. I promise.
- my everyday wear Hap shawl (7/8ths of the edging finished, so damn near fully grown);
- the finished knitted Christmas presents pile (I always start early, as I tend to slump in November then panic in December);
- the stack of dishes specifically designated for use during a large (for us) gathering (there will be a minimum of 8 here at Christmas, so we had to buy extra plates, larger serving dishes, and still need to get more cutlery);
- the blue/green fungus on the old loaf of bread in the pantry (since located and disposed of);
- the microscopic bundle of cells I am carrying in my uterus (ultrasound confirmed correct placement of said bundle of cells, although what was actually viewed on the ultrasound was a bubble/yolk sac). My hormone levels have continued to rise, and as correct placement has been confirmed, yay bundle of cells!
Some things that are not growing around here include...
- the leaves (all have faded from green, and most are now down due to strong autumn winds);
- my arse (I've lost three more pounds, probably due to stress and sleeping through meals);
- whatever it was that two teenage girls buried out behind my yard. Very, very weird. I saw two teeny-boppers leaving the area with a shovel, sniffling a bit, before we went to Edmonton for tests. Today I noticed there is a freshly turned pile of earth with a little plastic cross and some toys out there, right behind our yard. Creepy. I'm not sure on the etiquette of this, but if I had any idea who the girls were, I'd be asking them to relocate the final resting place of Fluffy or Guinea Pig or whatever they buried, so that I don't have to look out on the grave while eating my morning oatmeal - especially seeing as the local dogs have been sniffing around there quite a bit, and if we get a digger, I expect to find remains strewn about my back yard. Ugh.
Tomorrow, photos of some sort. I promise.
Monday, October 03, 2005
Human Pin-Cushion
I have a new title: Human Pin-Cushion. My old title (Queen of the World) was disputed at length by husband and cats, and really was more befitting the Peanut than me. Thus, I was dethroned.
Why HP-C? Because if I was to drop dead in the street half an hour from now, the medical examiner would assume I am a heroin addict (although would likely be confused by my obvious excess of nourishment). My arms are all bruised, bloody, and have teeny tiny little holes in them. Both arms. Numerous holes.
Why the little holes? Because in order to find out exactly when I begin the upcoming (we know it's coming - at least we're all pretty sure) miscarriage, my blood hormone levels are being taken every 2nd weekday. I get poked on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. That way, the doctor can figure out when the miscarriage starts, and hopefully attach possible causes. Which may then be tested with other, future miscarriages. Such fun.
It's a good thing I no longer consider the state of pregnancy (for me) as anything other than a minor illness, kind of like having a head cold or the flu. Otherwise this would be rather depressing.
But, on the up side, nobody expects anything of me any more - they're all waiting for the inevitable, and want to analyze my every move, so have basically stepped up and are allowing me to spend most of the day, every day, sitting on my arse and knitting. Or surfing the web. Or napping (I do lots of napping).
Except for being stuck with needles all the time, it's kind of like a holiday. No litter box to clean, no heavy lifting, no exposure to harsh chemicals like bathroom cleansers, etc. I can sit around drinking milk, popping vitamins, and watching new bruises form on my arms. The multiple layers of bruising on my left arm, currently in various stages of fading, kind of look a little like Kermit the Frog, but more colourful.
Oh, and for anyone getting all depressed my this post, please don't. This is the first time in years I actually feel that something positive is being done in the quest to find out why I keep spontaneously rejecting fetal tissue. And, under Murphy's Law, because we finally have proper medical care and are being observed closer than we ever have been before, this will most likely be a pregnancy that sticks. Because that would be kind of ironic. Kharmic justice. Almost funny. And probably loud. For the next 18 years or so. Yup. Uh-huh.
Now, if you'll be kind enough to excuse me, I have to pack a knitting project. We leave at 5:00am tomorrow to drive 5 hours to the clinic for an ultrasound. So, of course, I have to drink 4 8-ounce glasses of water, while on the road, and then hold it. While bouncing in DH's work truck, on crappy roads. Then drive back home the next morning, so I can be here for the Wednesday blood test. The fun never stops.
Why HP-C? Because if I was to drop dead in the street half an hour from now, the medical examiner would assume I am a heroin addict (although would likely be confused by my obvious excess of nourishment). My arms are all bruised, bloody, and have teeny tiny little holes in them. Both arms. Numerous holes.
Why the little holes? Because in order to find out exactly when I begin the upcoming (we know it's coming - at least we're all pretty sure) miscarriage, my blood hormone levels are being taken every 2nd weekday. I get poked on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. That way, the doctor can figure out when the miscarriage starts, and hopefully attach possible causes. Which may then be tested with other, future miscarriages. Such fun.
It's a good thing I no longer consider the state of pregnancy (for me) as anything other than a minor illness, kind of like having a head cold or the flu. Otherwise this would be rather depressing.
But, on the up side, nobody expects anything of me any more - they're all waiting for the inevitable, and want to analyze my every move, so have basically stepped up and are allowing me to spend most of the day, every day, sitting on my arse and knitting. Or surfing the web. Or napping (I do lots of napping).
Except for being stuck with needles all the time, it's kind of like a holiday. No litter box to clean, no heavy lifting, no exposure to harsh chemicals like bathroom cleansers, etc. I can sit around drinking milk, popping vitamins, and watching new bruises form on my arms. The multiple layers of bruising on my left arm, currently in various stages of fading, kind of look a little like Kermit the Frog, but more colourful.
Oh, and for anyone getting all depressed my this post, please don't. This is the first time in years I actually feel that something positive is being done in the quest to find out why I keep spontaneously rejecting fetal tissue. And, under Murphy's Law, because we finally have proper medical care and are being observed closer than we ever have been before, this will most likely be a pregnancy that sticks. Because that would be kind of ironic. Kharmic justice. Almost funny. And probably loud. For the next 18 years or so. Yup. Uh-huh.
Now, if you'll be kind enough to excuse me, I have to pack a knitting project. We leave at 5:00am tomorrow to drive 5 hours to the clinic for an ultrasound. So, of course, I have to drink 4 8-ounce glasses of water, while on the road, and then hold it. While bouncing in DH's work truck, on crappy roads. Then drive back home the next morning, so I can be here for the Wednesday blood test. The fun never stops.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
First Snow of the Season
Time for some photos, as I'm boring myself with my blog.
This is what things looked like out back a week and a half ago, when it was all sunshine and golden aspens around here. We had a couple of very windy days right after this photo was taken, and they stripped away most of the leaves.
Then, last weekend when my in-laws were here, we were treated to an early morning deer raid. There were actually six of them (including two young ones), but they spread out too far for photo taking. Please excuse the fuzziness of the shot - the light was extremely low (did I already say early morning?) and I was shooting from the relative security of our shaded front porch to the house across the street. When I ventured out onto the driveway to try for a better shot, they all took off. Apparently, the deer in this area are smart - they know to hang out in town during hunting season, as there is no shooting allowed in the populated areas (duh).
I got up from my afternoon nap today (no snickering - lazy chick with a stowaway here) to this - DH working on the front garden, in the snow. Not just any snow either - the first snow of the season, and showing up in the form of uber-flakes. Of course, it is a few degrees above freezing, so all the snow is really doing is watering the lawn and providing a cool effect on camera. But I'll take that. Yay for snow! Fun snow!
Knitting and quilting content to continue shortly. I just finished (but still need to block) a new scarf that I designed, and will be putting the pattern up here for anyone interested.
This is what things looked like out back a week and a half ago, when it was all sunshine and golden aspens around here. We had a couple of very windy days right after this photo was taken, and they stripped away most of the leaves.
Then, last weekend when my in-laws were here, we were treated to an early morning deer raid. There were actually six of them (including two young ones), but they spread out too far for photo taking. Please excuse the fuzziness of the shot - the light was extremely low (did I already say early morning?) and I was shooting from the relative security of our shaded front porch to the house across the street. When I ventured out onto the driveway to try for a better shot, they all took off. Apparently, the deer in this area are smart - they know to hang out in town during hunting season, as there is no shooting allowed in the populated areas (duh).
I got up from my afternoon nap today (no snickering - lazy chick with a stowaway here) to this - DH working on the front garden, in the snow. Not just any snow either - the first snow of the season, and showing up in the form of uber-flakes. Of course, it is a few degrees above freezing, so all the snow is really doing is watering the lawn and providing a cool effect on camera. But I'll take that. Yay for snow! Fun snow!Knitting and quilting content to continue shortly. I just finished (but still need to block) a new scarf that I designed, and will be putting the pattern up here for anyone interested.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Legal in Canada Already!!
Found this on Norma's blog, and even though same-sex marriage is legal in Canada (yay Canada!), I had to post it - very funny, in a thought-provoking way. Kind of shoots the anti gay marriage arguments in the foot.
So, without further ado, I give you Reasons Why Gay Marriage Should Not Be Allowed in America ...
1) Being gay is not natural. Real Americans always reject unnatural things like eyeglasses, polyester, liposuction and air conditioning.
2) Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.
3) Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.
4) Straight marriage has been around a long time and hasn't changed at all; women are still property, blacks still can't marry whites, and divorce is still illegal.
5) Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage were allowed; the sanctity of Britney Spears' 55-hour just-for-fun marriage would be destroyed.
6) Straight marriages are valid because they produce children. Gay couples, infertile couples, and old people shouldn't be allowed to marry because our orphanages aren't full yet, and the world needs more children.
7) Obviously gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.
8) Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That's why we have only one religion in America.
9) Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That's why we as a society expressly forbid single parents to raise children.
10) Gay marriage will change the foundation of society; we could never adapt to new social norms. Just like we haven't adapted to cars, the service-sector economy, or longer life spans...
-------------
Re-post this if you believe in legalizing gay marriage, or are happy to have same sex marriage legal already where you live.
And yes, I am of the opinion that same-sex marriage is a GOOD THING. 'Cause they're people, ya know?
P-e-o-p-l-e, not P-e-r-v-e-r-t-s. Take that, so called "religious right"! Phooey on you!
So, without further ado, I give you Reasons Why Gay Marriage Should Not Be Allowed in America ...
1) Being gay is not natural. Real Americans always reject unnatural things like eyeglasses, polyester, liposuction and air conditioning.
2) Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.
3) Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.
4) Straight marriage has been around a long time and hasn't changed at all; women are still property, blacks still can't marry whites, and divorce is still illegal.
5) Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage were allowed; the sanctity of Britney Spears' 55-hour just-for-fun marriage would be destroyed.
6) Straight marriages are valid because they produce children. Gay couples, infertile couples, and old people shouldn't be allowed to marry because our orphanages aren't full yet, and the world needs more children.
7) Obviously gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.
8) Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That's why we have only one religion in America.
9) Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That's why we as a society expressly forbid single parents to raise children.
10) Gay marriage will change the foundation of society; we could never adapt to new social norms. Just like we haven't adapted to cars, the service-sector economy, or longer life spans...
-------------
Re-post this if you believe in legalizing gay marriage, or are happy to have same sex marriage legal already where you live.
And yes, I am of the opinion that same-sex marriage is a GOOD THING. 'Cause they're people, ya know?
P-e-o-p-l-e, not P-e-r-v-e-r-t-s. Take that, so called "religious right"! Phooey on you!
Bump in the Road
Hah! Gotcha! Not that kind of bump, not this time. Nope.
Yesterday (very early Thursday morning) I had just hit "Publish Post" when there was a knock on the door. Keep in mind that it was very early. Wearing robe and hair-standing-out-like-a-clown early. And dark. Really, really dark.
As DH was still in the process of dressing (he was all clean and shiny, but hadn't yet put on pants), he ducked into the bedroom while I looked all confused (who comes to the door at that hour? really?) and answered the door.
An older, somewhat panic-y blond woman blurts out that there is a "body in the middle of the street", and that I should call 9-1-1. Then, she bolts. Takes off. Runs. Gone into the blackness of the really early morning. In my pre-caffeinated state, I step out into the front yard, and can see a rather large bump in the middle of the road, a few houses down.
Well, a zillion scary things are going through my mind (she's got accomplices, and as soon as I step out to check on this body on the road, they're going to rob/rape/beat/murder me). Thankfully, DH is much more pragmatic. He gets dressed, pulls on a coat and his reflective safety vest, and goes booting down the street. As I stand barefoot on the sidewalk (in my fluffy white robe) I hear him yell "she's alive but really cold - call the cops!"
Yup, dialed 9-1-1, and got to tell the dispatcher that there was a woman laying in the middle of our street. She tells me there is a patrol car in our area already, and she will send him our way - within two seconds, he's turning the corner onto our street (at the other end). I wave to him, then point down the street to where DH (smart, that DH) has put his coat / reflective vest combo over the woman. As the RCMP vehicle approaches, there is a big glowing X on her, and DH standing between the car and the woman, waving his arms. He's good that way.
Realizing I'm cold and practically naked, I hustle my fluffy arse back inside, and wait. DH appears in less than two minutes. He apparently got her to respond, but when he first approached her, she appeared to be asleep! He had assisted the RCMP officer with getting the woman (who he described as really young, blond, and not at all coherent) into the vehicle, was thanked, then headed home.
We talked about it for a few minutes, then the man was off to work. Just like that. All over in less than six minutes.
Last night when he came home we talked again, and decided that the incident had taught us a few things, and helped us to realize others:
1. When it's dark and you're the only house on the street with lights on, you're going to get the (hopefully very rare) knock on the door.
2. DH acts and thinks really quickly before his morning coffee, whereas I don't (not new to me, but the first time he recognized that fact).
3. A "body in the road" has the capacity to be a teenager down after a night of drinking - but that doesn't matter. A person passed out in the road still needs attention.
4. Calling the RCMP was the correct, and only, feasible solution. Whether they took her to the drunk tank to dry out, or to the hospital to deal with hypothermia (it was a frosty morning), it doesn't matter. The proper authorities made the decision, and we were able to continue going about our daily routine once the problem was out of our hands.
5. Ours is a very small town. Having a patrol car in our area literally means just that. He was one corner away, and was dispatched to investigate and driving by me before I had a chance to check that my robe was closed (it was).
6. When DH told his co-workers about the incident, they managed to turn it into a joke. He's the only one married, and got teased all day with "How come the married one gets the hot young unconscious blond on his doorstep? Doesn't seem fair!" Apparently, men can turn anything into a joke.
7. The likelihood of either of us passing out in the middle of the street is far, far lower than it was when we were drinking our way through University. That makes us both happy, as where we live, it is below freezing for damn near half the year.
Yup, it was an interesting Thursday morning. And just in case, I bolted down my morning coffee as soon as it brewed. Because you never know when you're doing to be dealing with a crisis. Like a disappearing harbinger of doom. Or a hypothermic teenager asleep in the street.
Yesterday (very early Thursday morning) I had just hit "Publish Post" when there was a knock on the door. Keep in mind that it was very early. Wearing robe and hair-standing-out-like-a-clown early. And dark. Really, really dark.
As DH was still in the process of dressing (he was all clean and shiny, but hadn't yet put on pants), he ducked into the bedroom while I looked all confused (who comes to the door at that hour? really?) and answered the door.
An older, somewhat panic-y blond woman blurts out that there is a "body in the middle of the street", and that I should call 9-1-1. Then, she bolts. Takes off. Runs. Gone into the blackness of the really early morning. In my pre-caffeinated state, I step out into the front yard, and can see a rather large bump in the middle of the road, a few houses down.
Well, a zillion scary things are going through my mind (she's got accomplices, and as soon as I step out to check on this body on the road, they're going to rob/rape/beat/murder me). Thankfully, DH is much more pragmatic. He gets dressed, pulls on a coat and his reflective safety vest, and goes booting down the street. As I stand barefoot on the sidewalk (in my fluffy white robe) I hear him yell "she's alive but really cold - call the cops!"
Yup, dialed 9-1-1, and got to tell the dispatcher that there was a woman laying in the middle of our street. She tells me there is a patrol car in our area already, and she will send him our way - within two seconds, he's turning the corner onto our street (at the other end). I wave to him, then point down the street to where DH (smart, that DH) has put his coat / reflective vest combo over the woman. As the RCMP vehicle approaches, there is a big glowing X on her, and DH standing between the car and the woman, waving his arms. He's good that way.
Realizing I'm cold and practically naked, I hustle my fluffy arse back inside, and wait. DH appears in less than two minutes. He apparently got her to respond, but when he first approached her, she appeared to be asleep! He had assisted the RCMP officer with getting the woman (who he described as really young, blond, and not at all coherent) into the vehicle, was thanked, then headed home.
We talked about it for a few minutes, then the man was off to work. Just like that. All over in less than six minutes.
Last night when he came home we talked again, and decided that the incident had taught us a few things, and helped us to realize others:
1. When it's dark and you're the only house on the street with lights on, you're going to get the (hopefully very rare) knock on the door.
2. DH acts and thinks really quickly before his morning coffee, whereas I don't (not new to me, but the first time he recognized that fact).
3. A "body in the road" has the capacity to be a teenager down after a night of drinking - but that doesn't matter. A person passed out in the road still needs attention.
4. Calling the RCMP was the correct, and only, feasible solution. Whether they took her to the drunk tank to dry out, or to the hospital to deal with hypothermia (it was a frosty morning), it doesn't matter. The proper authorities made the decision, and we were able to continue going about our daily routine once the problem was out of our hands.
5. Ours is a very small town. Having a patrol car in our area literally means just that. He was one corner away, and was dispatched to investigate and driving by me before I had a chance to check that my robe was closed (it was).
6. When DH told his co-workers about the incident, they managed to turn it into a joke. He's the only one married, and got teased all day with "How come the married one gets the hot young unconscious blond on his doorstep? Doesn't seem fair!" Apparently, men can turn anything into a joke.
7. The likelihood of either of us passing out in the middle of the street is far, far lower than it was when we were drinking our way through University. That makes us both happy, as where we live, it is below freezing for damn near half the year.
Yup, it was an interesting Thursday morning. And just in case, I bolted down my morning coffee as soon as it brewed. Because you never know when you're doing to be dealing with a crisis. Like a disappearing harbinger of doom. Or a hypothermic teenager asleep in the street.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Signs there might be trouble ahead...
Hello. My name is Logan, and I am a knitaholic. I'm addicted to changing yarn weight. When my fingers tire of working with lace weight, I like to work my way up to Aran weight. When I've had enough of 5mm needles, I work my way back down.
Notice the use of the phrase "work my way" - intentional. Right now, I have the following projects on the needles:
1. Lace weight - a scarf (Christmas gift)
2. Shetland weight - a hap shawl (for me)
3. Fingering weight - a scarf (Christmas gift)
4. Sport weight - a stole (yup, for me)
5. DK weight - a scarf (testing a pattern I wrote)
6. Aran weight - a scarf (Christmas gift)
Notice any trends? Yup, this will be the Christmas of hand knitted scarves.
Also, please note that I can change from lace weight to Aran weight in ONLY SIX STEPS. I kill me.
Oh, and Deborah? You must be clairvoyant - within a week of your email, your guess was bang on. Yup, pregnant again. Am having blood tests every second day to follow my hormone levels, and an ultrasound on Tuesday (October 4th). We will wait and see how long it takes this pregnancy to end. Bets anyone?
We're really looking forward to this next miscarriage, as it will OFFICIALLY move us from "difficulty conceiving" to "spontaneous recurrent miscarriage", which is really what we should be getting treatment for. So, things are looking up, as we will finally be getting the right kind of help on the pro-creation front. Yippee!
Could I be stress knitting?
Notice the use of the phrase "work my way" - intentional. Right now, I have the following projects on the needles:
1. Lace weight - a scarf (Christmas gift)
2. Shetland weight - a hap shawl (for me)
3. Fingering weight - a scarf (Christmas gift)
4. Sport weight - a stole (yup, for me)
5. DK weight - a scarf (testing a pattern I wrote)
6. Aran weight - a scarf (Christmas gift)
Notice any trends? Yup, this will be the Christmas of hand knitted scarves.
Also, please note that I can change from lace weight to Aran weight in ONLY SIX STEPS. I kill me.
Oh, and Deborah? You must be clairvoyant - within a week of your email, your guess was bang on. Yup, pregnant again. Am having blood tests every second day to follow my hormone levels, and an ultrasound on Tuesday (October 4th). We will wait and see how long it takes this pregnancy to end. Bets anyone?
We're really looking forward to this next miscarriage, as it will OFFICIALLY move us from "difficulty conceiving" to "spontaneous recurrent miscarriage", which is really what we should be getting treatment for. So, things are looking up, as we will finally be getting the right kind of help on the pro-creation front. Yippee!
Could I be stress knitting?
Sunday, September 18, 2005
What my Dad did this Weekend
First, consider this - what do you hope to be doing when you are 60, on a sunny but windy autumn weekend (in Alberta, Canada)?
You might have thought reading a great novel, enjoying a walk with the spouse and the dog, spinning the slots at a casino, or taking in some live theatre or a symphony event. All of these seem to me to be reasonable things for a 60 year old to do on a brisk Saturday in September.
Hell, I did two of them (reading, and enjoying a walk with spouse, sans dog) myself - great ways to spend time as the days grow shorter and the temperature drops.
My father, however, had different ideas. Yesterday, while I was reading and/or walking in the fall woods, he was . . . fracturing his tibia while avoiding a collision between a man in a catamaran and himself, windsurfing. Yup, Dad spent the first part of Saturday windsurfing on a chilly Alberta lake, and the second part in emergency, having his fractured leg prepped for surgery.
I just got word that he came through the surgery well, but is now the proud owner of a plate and some pins. He will be joining my younger brother in the list of family members who always set off the metal detectors at airports. Dad may be released as early as Tuesday, so long as he takes to the crutches and pain killers well.
I wonder how long until he is back on the windsurfer? Because he just started taking windsurfing lessons at age 57 - until then, water sports for Dad had consisted of margaritas on the beach, and cursing a misplaced umbrella during a heavy rain. Now he owns a sail and a harness.
Also, he has always wanted to learn to hangglide. Maybe when he's 70...
You might have thought reading a great novel, enjoying a walk with the spouse and the dog, spinning the slots at a casino, or taking in some live theatre or a symphony event. All of these seem to me to be reasonable things for a 60 year old to do on a brisk Saturday in September.
Hell, I did two of them (reading, and enjoying a walk with spouse, sans dog) myself - great ways to spend time as the days grow shorter and the temperature drops.
My father, however, had different ideas. Yesterday, while I was reading and/or walking in the fall woods, he was . . . fracturing his tibia while avoiding a collision between a man in a catamaran and himself, windsurfing. Yup, Dad spent the first part of Saturday windsurfing on a chilly Alberta lake, and the second part in emergency, having his fractured leg prepped for surgery.
I just got word that he came through the surgery well, but is now the proud owner of a plate and some pins. He will be joining my younger brother in the list of family members who always set off the metal detectors at airports. Dad may be released as early as Tuesday, so long as he takes to the crutches and pain killers well.
I wonder how long until he is back on the windsurfer? Because he just started taking windsurfing lessons at age 57 - until then, water sports for Dad had consisted of margaritas on the beach, and cursing a misplaced umbrella during a heavy rain. Now he owns a sail and a harness.
Also, he has always wanted to learn to hangglide. Maybe when he's 70...
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Love & Loathing in my Basement
Warning: Those of you with a weak stomach for serious stash collecting should turn away now. Anyone who purchases "just enough for the project I'm starting now", run for the hills. This post is about STASH. Serious friggin' STASH.
Yesterday, I went and picked up the mail for the first half of the week. No, we don't get house-to-house delivery here - we have to schlep up to the local Canada Post Office, which is (oh, so conveniently) only open between 9:00am and 5:00pm, Monday through Friday, with a four hour window on Saturday (10-2). Seriously.
In the mail, along with the usual assortment of flyers and junk, was the latest Hancocks of Paducah catalogue. While I'm not really a fan of their online shop (poorly organized IMHO, and slow service), I do love their catalogue. So, when I got home and had put away the last of the groceries, I brewed myself a cup of Dilmah tea (thanks Carla!) and sat down on the couch to peruse.
Yummmmm. Page after page of glorious colour. Amazing textures. Incredible groupings. Ahhhh (insert Homer Simpson sound and drool effect here).
Then, as I flipped through again, marking my favorite fabrics with a pen, I began to notice a trend. So I put down the catalogue (step away from the catalogue), did something else for a while (laundry and dishes - always there in a pinch), and gave it all some time to sink in.
Okay, clean clothes and dishes done, back to the catalogue. Yup, there it is again. Time to face the music. I marched myself downstairs, and opened the door to the incredible mess I call my Stash. Stepping over the piles and bags of yarn, working my way around the really-good-bargain picture frames and roll of Fast2Fuse, I began to search my fabric stash storage shelves.
Sneaking suspicion confirmed. During the summer of knitting rather than quilting, my quilting fabric stash, while not changing, has matured into --- a collection of my favorite fabrics. The stuff I marked as delightful in the HoP catalogue? More than 90% of it is already in my possession, and just waiting to come out and play.
I love my stash. My stash terrifies me. It needs organizing. And more shelves. Okay, fine, just the yarn part needs organizing and shelves. See how organized the fabric stash is? I love my stash.
Yesterday, I went and picked up the mail for the first half of the week. No, we don't get house-to-house delivery here - we have to schlep up to the local Canada Post Office, which is (oh, so conveniently) only open between 9:00am and 5:00pm, Monday through Friday, with a four hour window on Saturday (10-2). Seriously.
In the mail, along with the usual assortment of flyers and junk, was the latest Hancocks of Paducah catalogue. While I'm not really a fan of their online shop (poorly organized IMHO, and slow service), I do love their catalogue. So, when I got home and had put away the last of the groceries, I brewed myself a cup of Dilmah tea (thanks Carla!) and sat down on the couch to peruse.
Yummmmm. Page after page of glorious colour. Amazing textures. Incredible groupings. Ahhhh (insert Homer Simpson sound and drool effect here).
Then, as I flipped through again, marking my favorite fabrics with a pen, I began to notice a trend. So I put down the catalogue (step away from the catalogue), did something else for a while (laundry and dishes - always there in a pinch), and gave it all some time to sink in.
Okay, clean clothes and dishes done, back to the catalogue. Yup, there it is again. Time to face the music. I marched myself downstairs, and opened the door to the incredible mess I call my Stash. Stepping over the piles and bags of yarn, working my way around the really-good-bargain picture frames and roll of Fast2Fuse, I began to search my fabric stash storage shelves. 
Sneaking suspicion confirmed. During the summer of knitting rather than quilting, my quilting fabric stash, while not changing, has matured into --- a collection of my favorite fabrics. The stuff I marked as delightful in the HoP catalogue? More than 90% of it is already in my possession, and just waiting to come out and play. I love my stash. My stash terrifies me. It needs organizing. And more shelves. Okay, fine, just the yarn part needs organizing and shelves. See how organized the fabric stash is? I love my stash.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Napping + Nature = Good
This is where I have spent most of today (with brief stumbles about to blog, do laundry, and knit on the balcony). Note the presence of a Peanut, the home-made quilt, and the messy multitude of pillows - all essential for a day of serious nappitude.
This is what has been happening outside while I've been napping. Nature has made the leaves all bright and obnoxious, but in a lovely, lovely way. The clouds boiling about behind the mountain are staying over there (good clouds, well behaved clouds). Immediately above casa de Logan is sunshine, which is doing all it can to make the golden leaves even brighter. Nature turns on the high beams.
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