More funny kitty pics

Cat Splat!

Dude, don't bogart the 'nip...

Graphics snitched from http://www.whatdidyoueat.typepad.com// Captions personal. No offense intended to Sher or Upsie, just giggles.

To each their own

My Lil Sis thinks knitting is weird for anyone under the age of, oh say, 80, so blogging about it sends me right up a tree in her book, I think...to which I say, hey, at least I'm not a Weekend Cat Blogger!

Sad thing is, if I owned a digi cam, I'd probably try it. I'm that much of a sheep. Lord knows Jordan and Figaro are worth the press, the little freaks. I mean, let's face it; cats put up a good front of aloofness, but they ain't running on all 8 cylinders.

Weekend Cat Blogging (WCB) appears to be when you allow your cat to take over the blog on the weekends. I've been reading a lot of our Foodie Farmgirl lately, coveting her life and her land, and today I indulged in investigating her food blog links to the right (HEAVEN!! Holy crap, the ideas I have for recipes to try! Whenever I get to thinking the Internet is evil, I'm going to remember the amazing creativity I've witnessed today.) One in partic, What Did You Eat?, I plan to pilfer several recipes from. This lady, in addition to sharing some scrumptious looking piccies and recipes for food that's mostly very good for you, also has an extremely long-haired cat named Upsie who partakes of WCB. Just had to snitch a couple of pics of said furball; they're hilarious. I mean, doesn't he look like he's thinking, "if you don't get this thing off my head, I'm going to leave a hairball in your mouth while you sleep."

Another random thought: while I admit to enjoying the convenience of living in this urban type of suburbia we call Jax, the speed with which it's expanding makes me shudder. Traveled to the Intracoastal area between Arlington and the beach this weekend and couldn't believe the building that has occured of late. I mean, seriously, does this city need any more freakin' Super Wal-Marts or Super Targets? Apparently so. Then this morning on the daily commute, practically right next to my building, I notice a sign for an Applebee's coming soon. There's an office complex behind it that's been under construction for a month or two now, but the outer shell of the Applebee's seemingly went up overnight. I realize that in order to find the good jobs, we'll need to live on the outskirts of a city for at least the next couple of years, and I guess I'm just thankful for blogs like Foodie Farmgirl, through whom we can live vicariously.

Another Monday rears its ugly head

Photo courtesy of the 2005 album for the Charlotte walk at http://www.avonwalk.org

Where in the hell does the time go?

Two months from now, I'll be strolling along the streets of Charlotte, NC. I'm not in the least bit ready. Sonofabitch.

Didn't I muse sometime last week that I shouldn't be giving blood because I was in training? Unfortunately I followed giving blood with the monthly friend (who calls it that anymore?), and it knocked me on my ass for a week. Whoever says the two shouldn't correlate because your uterus isn't sloughing off actual blood from your body's 10-pint storehouse is full of shit. I don't usually cramp past the first day; whereas this one was unusually draining. I'm going to have to content myself with the idea that I may have saved a life by donating blood, dust myself off, and get back on the road.

Tonight I project the rest of my training and do at least 2 miles.

Worked a little bit on all three projects this past weekend at least. Once I get another puck or two on the cape, I'm going to need to start figuring out how I want to shape it. I can't even imagine doing k2togs to shape the shoulders; the yarn's too thick and my needles are too small. If I increase the needle size to decrease around the shoulders, am I defeating myself? I'm thinking yes. Still got a ways before that's an issue; also still pondering yes or no to armholes.

Goofing up on mr. sock a bit on the heel, which just means that picking up stitches will be more challenging later. SSS is still a soothing distraction.

Les tried his hand at quesadillas last night. He didn't seem too impressed afterward, but I was in heaven! Yum!

Random Friday

It's been a weird week.

Things feel almost back to normal at the apartment. I'm definitely looking for a house to rent first though, when we move.

Had the layers put back in my hair last weekend. Don't hate 'em yet...on the contrary, they seem to be cooperating, falling around my neck and shoulders in a style that flatters without making my face look gigantic. Whodathunk?

I'm back knitting at the SSS, but I think the sock will get some attention this weekend. I started the heel flap at the Psychic dinner last week.

Fundraising going slow...gonna have to start brainstorming, thinking about a bake sale or something at work, and seeing if Mom can hit folks up at the paper. Also there's a link on the Avon site apparently where you can put together a media release; definitely looking into that this weekend. I may be the only Jax resident doing the Charlotte walk so that's gotta work in my favor.

Training going slow too, unfortunately, but the weather's back to strange (low 90s, low humidity), so I'll get out there both days this weekend and put a plan back in place. I used the blood donation as an excuse for too long this week, but did get out Wednesday for a walk in the woods of sorts. Will also get some cardiovascular, playing with Lukas at his birthday Saturday (son of a friend). My walking hat arrived in the mail and fits nicely; the extra large bill's not the most flattering on the planet, but it's definitely good at keeping the sun off my face. Thanks Betmar!

I think about Nanie a lot lately. Apparently her memory's pretty shot, so I don't write or call because I don't want to confuse her, but I ache to visit her before she leaves this plane of existence. She turned 95 last month, so I'm acutely aware of the chances of that happening in our current sitch. Still...the near future lays out ahead of me in stages...Charlotte, then moving, then children...close enough to touch...just a little while longer...

Zoe's getting some attention this weekend too, somehow. She's been hanging out in my head on the edges, p0king at me. I'm also going through my annual back-to-school itch for knowledge, so pulling out the anthropology text and grabbing some earth science tomes from the local libe. Gotta start somewhere...

::sigh::

Ok, I know you have to know some computer lingo to work this job, but this one just makes me shake my head...

Client emails us with a modification to change the company name to Bradley Hand ITC. So the Mods agent changed the name of the company to "Bradley Hand ITC. "

Bradley Hand ITC is a font style, people!!

Fellow KBer Dana summed it up beautifully yesterday: why is there no lifeguard in the gene pool?

...later...

It's obviously going to be one of those days. 3½ hours later and I've had to:
a) rewrite a meta description for a pizzeria that serves "chicken, buffalo wings, and other Italian food."
and b) work a restaurant site that serves "collared greens." Personally I never knew greens had necks, but I guess you learn something new everyday.

I'd like to go home and knit now.

A reprieve?

So Les had a good talk on the phone yesterday with the GM of the complex, explaining that what the woman was complaining about was nothing more than us getting out of bed at night, and that it couldn't be helped. He made an appointment with the GM for noon today to discuss it further, but last night the woman came to the door apologizing so much we couldn't get a word in edgewise, so we think she got a bit of the dressing-down we were hoping for. I'm still not entirely comfortable, but it's a start. It has been getting me up on time in the mornings, because once I'm out of bed to shut off the alarm, I don't want to go back into it because of the noise it makes. We're thinking of investing in a sheet of plywood for between the mattress and boxspring at the next payday, but I have a feeling that'll do nothing but make the bed firmer.

Les is keeping the appointment anyway, because we have an erroneous eviction on our record that needs to be cleared up. I'm sitting in the wing chair to watch TV and knit, instead of on the bed. I look to Labor Day weekend and the tall pines of my inlaws' yard.

I hate my downstairs neighbor

When I can feel the stress through all the medication I'm currently on, you know it's serious.

We're being threatened with eviction.

What precipitated this? The straw to break the camel's back? I got up in the middle of the night to use the john. She banged on the ceiling. I went back to sleep.

The next afternoon, we had the notice on the door, signed by her, of our 7-day notice to cure. As in, don't make noise for the next 12 months, or we'll put forth efforts to evict.

I haven't walked heel-toe in our apartment since we started getting those passive-aggressive letters from her a week ago. I tiptoe to the john after 10 p.m., the animals (well, Figaro) aren't allowed in the bedroom after 10, and we're walking on eggshells when we know she's home. This is no way to live.

The only thing we can think, is that it's the bed. We have the noisiest box spring on the planet. When you get up from that bed, you announce yourself. I'm wondering if we could put a sheet of plywood between the mattress and the box spring to remedy the situation, but you know what? I shouldn't have to. We're not playing the TV or stereo loud after 10, we're not having sex at all hours (well, yeah, ok, at all...), and we don't bang unreasonably up and down the stairs. If the problem is our box spring, does this mean we can't have sex after 10 p.m.? Have to move it to the living room? Yeah, like I'm going to take her feelings into consideration at all if Les gets a wild hair and decides to mate?

The way the notice reads, we could be threatened with eviction for the next 12 months if we accidentally trip over the furniture and wake her ass up. That's 8 more months of our lease and living in a hostile environment. I don't think so.

We're trying to get an appointment with the GM of the complex. I pray we won't have her (the bitch) in the same room when we're explaining our side, because I feel about as rational toward her as I do toward my local sister-in-law right now, who was kind enough to threaten my folks with legal action for money they and my brother didn't owe her. They caved to get her off their backs; I withdrew from all Mandarin Circle yahoo groups that night. I'm done with her. She made my mommie cry.

I can't remember the last time I felt this level of stress. I'm transitioning meds so it was bound to happen. I napped after work yesterday to catch up from the night before and got decent sleep last night in spite of her, so today's going better. Still, I'm dreaming of SC, and we're thinking of leaving Les up there past Labor Day so he can look for work. We'll see.....

::sigh:: another Monday

So that making-exercise-habit thing? Not as easy as it sounds.

Saturday I slept late, we got up and did some shopping, and then I had to pull myself together for the local Psychic dinner, a fundraiser for our upcoming Pagan Pride Day. It was a nice time, I knit on my sock and socialized, and got some nice soaps and a Disney print at the silent auction. But no exercising that day.

Sunday was a bust. Puttered, did some Avon walk fundraising on the computer, grabbed a nap, played Playstation...and got a ridiculous case of insomnia last night. To make matters worse, our fairly new downstairs neighbor is the lightest sleeper on the planet. She's asked us twice (by passive-aggressive notes on our door) to keep it down after 10, so we've taken to closing the bedroom door so that Figaro doesn't tear ass above her bedroom. But last night she banged on the ceiling because I made noise apparently when I got up to take a leak. So I'm through feeling apologetic about it. We're doing our best, and she can fucking deal with it for 8 more months or move. She's the assistant manager of the complex, so we're feeling kind of threatened, but it's bullshit; we've lived there 8 years with zero complaints prior to now. You don't see us complaining because her dust mop of a dog spends its days barking when Les is trying to sleep (his schedule's backwards from mine). I hope I don't see her anytime soon, because we're destined to have words.

If I give blood today, then I'll put off working out for one more day (company blood drive); otherwise, I'm hitting the treadmill after work if my eyes can stay open. Did NOT get enough sleep last night, and I'm raring for a fight.

Vent

We interrupt this normally friendly, PG-13 blog to bring you a word from our sponsors for the day: Greyhound and Smith & Wesson.

CLUSTERFUCK!

A Greyhound heading to Orlando stopped on I-95 before lunch today, because one of its passengers was wearing a trench coat (in 100-degree weather), acting strangely, and trying to open the bus windows. SWAT was dispatched and I-95 was closed down from Baymeadows to Southside in both directions, as authorities ascertained whether the individual was exercising his right to bear arms.

I was heading home in that general direction to get lunch for myself and husby. It became a significant illustration of how people's IQs drop when faced with altered situations. The intersection of Old Baymeadows and Southside is an absolute beast in the best of conditions, but today the lights were on flash. Whether this was to dissuade people from heading toward I-95 or was Murphy the gremlin sitting on the traffic light junction box wringing his hands and twirling his mustache as he wondered how else to fuck with Jacksonville commuters, is unknown.

I am a proponent of scenic routes. If the way in front of me is blocked, then fuck it; I'll go around it somehow, adding minutes onto my route but at least keeping me moving. Instead I was trapped behind some assholes determined to go straight across, against the flow, when there wasn't a cop present yet to direct traffic. So we wait. And wait. I yell at them. Put Linkin Park on the stereo because this level of traffic frustration demands some head-banging rock. Finally, a lone FHPer shows up and I manage to get across without taking my planned scenic route or murdering any civilians.

So ok, I get home. Certainly not going back the same way I came. I head north to Deerwood, to cut across to 9A. Mistake #2. Should've taken JTB. Apparently at lunchtime, EVERYONE who works in Deerwood goes to St. Johns Town Centre for lunch. The traffic for the light at Gate Parkway is backed up to the Residence Inn. Breathe. Crank Linkin Park louder.

Thankfully, 9A was a breeze once I found the sucker, but so much for a relaxing drive on my lunch hour. I'm venting so that I release this and don't stew on it all afternoon. Adding insult to injury, the asshole on the Greyhound wasn't carrying! He was just a little screwier than your average Greyhound patron, if that's possible, and was taken into custody. I'd have been a lot happier if he'd been carrying a gun. Warped, I know.

Anything else I can bitch about? There's not enough chicken in my Wendy's Mandarin Chicken salad, and I definitely should've pilfered more fries from Les's lunch. I'm going back to work now. Don't bother me.

Fun with website editing

As a website editor for 6+ years now, I thought I'd read everything, as far as the lengths the capitalists will go to, to sell their wares. This was one I'd never seen before though...

Christian ministry site:

If you wish you could do something all over again, click on this coupon to REPENT!

What an idea! Instant online forgiveness! Skip church; just turn on your computer this Sunday to gain absolution!

To all y'all who are chuckling over this as I did, I'll save ya a seat by the fire :)

One day at a time...

Exercise...it's like AA but funner.

Ok, it's not funner, but the lift in spirits it gives you more than makes up for the slogging effort required. I feel good today, physically and mentally.

There was no way to realistically pull off the library-to-home walk after work yesterday. The heat was oppressive, in spite of the lurking rain clouds, and the 2nd mile of that stretch would've been entirely sans shade. So I tarried on the fence for just a moment, and then changed and went up to the treadmill. Still sore from yoga the day before, so only did a mile and change, but very glad I went, because I'm giving myself a day off today so I can relax with my bitches tonight. The damn treadmill is still a snore, and I had to ignore a couple of my young ethnic neighbors dicking around on the other equipment initially; but I practiced a kind of focus and it went by faster. I watched the turtles again, and I focused on the reflections of the trees on the still pond.

If I want to pull off the longer stretches in full sun, I'm going to have to do it in the early morning. There's no getting around that until the blasted summer begins to wane. May actually be worth it, since it means getting off that boring-assed treadmill.

The key is making it habit. I know it's only been, hell, less than a week, and I certainly don't expect to lose any weight this week—won't even look. But I'm building up endurance and making exercise a habit. If I just keep building up endurance and don't look at the scale, I won't get discouraged and the miles will take care of themselves. And in the back of my mind is the knowledge that I can do 13.1 miles in a day, because I did 14.5 miles in a day, 4 years ago. I may have been in a world of hurt afterwards, but it was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. It's in me, that will. Just gotta match it physically.

Put the realistic email addresses in my Walk page book last night. I'm not sending emails to anyone at their work, unless it's absolutely the only address I have for them. So folks with sketchy or no emails will get snail-mail letters, which means a bunch of stuffing envelopes and more than a few wasted stamps, since I'll make the donation form envelopes SASEs. But it's worth it if I get even a $5 donation from folks. That's all I was able to give Alexa for her walk last weekend, but I know it made a difference.

This weekend, I'll send out the emails and do my mailings. And think about any possible corporate sponsors. And think about selling candy. Also write the letter for my company; the stock may be low right now, but they're in a much better position to donate to me than they were in 2002. Which they didn't even do, the snots.

But tonight is Knitting Bitches, a chance to socialize and work on some sad, neglected UFOs. Thinking of working on the sock and the SSS tonight.

Native Sun Baymeadows is open!!!

Ain't she a beauty?

If anybody's looking for me Saturday, umm, I think I'll be here.

At least in the morning. This organic grocer's masterpiece features 18,000 square feet of healthy foods, from their free-range rotisserie chickens to their smoothie bar to their fresh organic produce. I'd like to take an hour just to wander slowly up and down the aisles, educating myself. Then I'll do a light shop, since their prices are probably a shade more than I'm used to, and I'll top it off with a visit to their smoothie bar.

Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh.....

Doesn't mean as much for the Mandarin folks probably; the first Native Sun is right on San Jose here in Jax, which is kind of the heart of Mandarin, but the added size and brandnewness of the Baymeadows store is probably worth at least one trip to the complex on the corner of 9A. For me, it's frickin' ideal, just 3 miles from my place and stocked to the gills with food that's gotta be infinitely better for us than the Winn-Dixie fare we so often settle on...we hit W/D often, because their prices are so damn low and you don't necessarily have to wear a bra when you shop, because the clientele there is so skanky.....

But now that I'm getting healthy, one step at a time, it's time to get serious about what we put in our bodies. I've been buying more juice lately, the good stuff like Apple & Eve or Juicy Juice, and we've been actually eating the vegetables before they go bad. Having Native Sun this close is a great help, and I hope to indulge in their goods often as we change over from the land of starch and fat to the land of green.

Nose to the grindstone

Fast update...

Did Kathy Smith's New Yoga Basics yesterday after work. It's a good beginner's yoga workout, has relaxation techniques, cat and dog, downward dog, standing poses, warrior poses, and utilizes the strap, wall, and chair for optimal positioning. I broke a sweat doing it, but did almost every position with slight modifications for my size.

Today after work, I'm going to have Les drop me off at the library and I'll walk home from there. It's 2 miles and change, per Mapquest.

Drafted 2 fundraising letters last night. Will assess needs tonight and maybe fill out the name/participant # on some of my donation forms. Needs being envelopes and stamps for purchase on Friday (payday), so that I can do a mass mailing on the weekend. Another good project would be entering the email addys into the Avon Personal page address book, of the folks I intend to bombard by email next week.

It's coming together. And my determination about exercising feels good :)

Tuesday

When I start off my morning by spilling coffee down the front of my shirt, I find it's difficult to then ascertain in a positive manner, how the rest of the day's gonna fly.

I'll try though.

We are a self-centered people, that's for sure. As I sat there, flapping my shirt dry while waiting for a light to turn green, all I could think of was the people looking into my car wondering what the hell I was doing. Never mind that the normal individual behind the wheel at that hour is doing the same thing I am: rubbing sleep out of eyes, praying for caffeine to take hold, and in the case of this week, thanking god that the kids are back in school.

Knitting and moving organization are taking a back seat this week as I strive to get myself on an exercise schedule and get my fundraising in order. Problem is, I'm so out of shape that the exercise sucks me dry and leaves little energy for thinking about fundraising. On the plus side, I was in bed by 10:30. On the minus side, we ate dinner so late that it feels like I dreamt all night. :P I've made a list of family and friends (outside of community) that are getting letters by snail or email; now I've just gotta write the suckers.

Did a mile and a half on the treadmill last night, and to my chagrin, it's a perfectly viable alternative to outdoor walking. I say that because I'd much rather be outdoors, but it's just way too damn hot right now. Treadmills bore the crap out of me, but on the plus side, the A/C is terrific, and ours is situated facing the retention pond in back of the office. You know how on TV, you see rich folks working their stationary bikes with a view playing on a screen in front of them, like they're biking down a country road or something. Well, I had them beat last night with a great view of feeding time for the turtles in our pond. Had no idea there were so many of them! Small, medium, and large turtles were poking their heads out, diving down for food, and occasionally tustling in the water.

I don't know what to do about my hair. I never should have cut the layers off; it's at shoulder length and vexing the hell out of me. Every time I work out, I'm frustrated, because I had the front edges angled, so it won't hold a bun now; and the damn ponytail gives me ruthee syndrome, brushing on the back of my neck. I don't want to cut it again, but I really don't know if my patience will hold out through my training.

Geez, I'm chatty this morning.

Love is.....

...finding a dozen yellow roses on the driver's seat when you unlock the car to head for work on a Monday morning.

::sigh:: Husbies are wonderful creatures. And remember folks, I didn't have to train him; he came this way :)

I'm out of shape and this weather ain't helping. Did a measly mile and a half on Saturday morning, was a little sore Sunday, and today I still feel dehydrated. Going to have to knuckle down and hit the treadmill at our complex. And if that's not working, I'll be getting up really damn early. Sucks, but entirely necessary if I don't want to completely wreck myself come October.

This weekend was almost a wash, but did get to see my nephew, which was really nice. Haven't seen him in like, 8 months, due to lousy relations with his mom, my bro's ex. Barely knitted...geez, what did I accomplish this weekend? Oh well, no use kicking myself, just keep moving forward...tonight is thank you cards for my first two donations for the walk, and starting to draft fundraising letters for the rest of my clan, plus some friends, past and present.

Crunch time

I'm one of those folks who work well under stress. Surprising, I know. I got my best grades in college the semester I held down a part-time job in addition to a full load of classes. Once, for a writing class (Narration & Description), we had to spend a couple of weeks laying out and writing a long story, using all the necessary preparatory tools (idea, notecards, first outline, second outline, rough draft, blah, blah, blah). Helluva time for me to develop writer's block, but I'm not great at forcing myself to create characters, and the brain just wasn't cranking it out. I begged off on preliminary drafts because there just wasn't anything there. About 2 days before the whole thing's due, the muse hits and I crank out 23 pages of story. This is the late '80s, folks; we're talking longhand and then transcribing to my typewriter. I got a B+.

I may be pushing it on this latest goal, but inspiration hit this past weekend, and I can't ignore how badly I still want to do this, so here goes. I'm participating in the Charlotte 2006 Avon Walk.

See, I was planning on starting myself on a healthy regimen anyway, in the hopes of losing some weight by Thanksgiving, so that we can start trying for a small person. So it's just idiotic not to participate in the walk. It's only a month earlier than my goal, and the money I'll raise will do so much good. Never mind how fantastically excellent I'll feel about myself too. I still get a thrill from my accomplishment at the NY Avon Walk in 2002, and that sucker only lasted 1 day.

So if you're reading this, it means you'll be hit up by me for donations and moral support very soon. I'm organizing my fundraising this week, and starting to train. Luckily, I woke up about this right at the 12-week mark before the walk, so there's a training program all laid out for me by Avon. Now I've just gotta lace up the shoes and get going!

My Personal Walk Page

Avon Walk for Breast Cancer

Knitting for once

One thing I did while in SC was get back in a knitting groove. All that waiting room time helped; poor Kara was induced at 10ish Monday night and enjoyed epidurals and labor fun for 24 hours afterward. I'm still catching up on sleep, so she must be a wreck.

Funny thing is it all involved newer projects, not UFOs. My sweater and SSS have fallen to the wayside once again, poor troopers that they are. Instead I worked a simple feather-and-fan scarf in the 100% wool that Mom J found for me at Tuesday Morning awhile back. It's an irritating project for some reason, but I'm determined to get it done.

I also jumped back into the White Buffalo fray. Using the Cape May Knitty pattern as a guide, I started what I hope will be a very nice cape. I have 5 pucks of Seal Heather Brown (like at left), 3 pucks of Turquoise, and 1 puck of Slate. I haven't decided how to integrate the Turquoise; ;this may be my first delving into mixing colors, because the idea of just a large stripe of the Turquoise sounds pretty bland, in addition to not at all slimming. Ideally, I shouldn't be working in bulky yarn for myself if I listen to the Big Girl Knits gals, but I can't resist—this yarn is gorgeous. So I'm thinking of the Turquoise in a wave over the Seal Brown, and then the Slate at top, possibly in a collar of sorts, because I'm not crazy about the ribbon they have in the pattern. I'm thinking of a couple of huge buttons at top instead. Also haven't decided if I'm putting armholes in. Given the weight of the yarn, it's probably not a dumb idea, but it's not in the pattern so I'd be kind of flying solo. Never a good thing craftwise with me, without a lot of planning first, so we'll see. Nice thing about White Buffalo is it knits up fast; I'm almost done with my 2nd puck of the Seal Brown already :)

The third thing I did was ::deep breath:: frogged my entire first attempt at a sock. Poor little guy has been sitting abandoned on the needles for the better part of a year now, because the blasted heel and gusset area just vexed me to no end. I shouldn't say little; I'd knitted a decent 8 inches of shaft on the sucker. But upon inspection, I knew it wouldn't fit me in the least with my big feet and cankles, and if I'm going to go to the trouble of handknitting socks, I'm gonna be wearing them, that's for sure. So I searched Monday for a decent sock recipe and found Thuja, which is busy enough to keep me interested and much more geared to my big honkin' feet. I'm going to try starting it on the metal 6s that Carrie gave me last year in my b'day basket. I'd love to get me some Clover 6s—I've become a real bamboo snob of late, but there's no way I can afford any knitting purchases for the near future. Will probably give this one a try tonight; wish me luck!

I'M AN AUNT AGAIN!!!!!

It kills me I don't have a picture yet to show off. She's really a beautiful baby.

My sisinlaw Kara gave birth to her first on Tuesday night at 10:39 p.m. Kylie Kincade Johnson-Burnett was 7 lbs. 1 oz., 19¼ inches long, and came complete with all her fingers and toes and a full head of dark brown hair. I'm not talking peach fuzz; the stuff on top was at least an inch long! I stood and watched Tuesday night from the window of the nursery as they hosed her down and checked under the hood. She barely cried, and I found I couldn't take my eyes off her. Relatives came and went to get food for the mom or head home, and I just stayed at that window.

Got to hold her yesterday, and it felt like second nature after holding the small package that is Terra's little one so recently. She slept the whole time, making the occasional yawn or mouth movement that's not quite a suckle, but she manages to stick her tongue out at you. I wish we could go right back on the weekend, but gas prices being what they are, it's unrealistic; and besides, Kara really needs time to herself to settle in as a mommie without so much family around. My mominlaw, who will be visiting Kara often enough to make that impossible (they live right down the street from each other), is a freak of medical science; she's been so wrapped up in her daughter's pregnancy and subsequent birthing of her first granddaughter, that it kicked her out of menopause! Can you imagine getting your period at the age of 61?! Whacked!

It's got me so determined to get our lives in order. I want to lose 25 pounds by Thanksgiving, Halloween be damned, and then start trying. Les knows, I talked it over with him too, LOL! I'm already weaning off caffeine, switching and weaning on my meds, stopped drinking, and trying to eat healthier. Add exercise and we could just have a recipe for success. Wish me luck!

So it turns out I was REALLY bored at work today...

100 Things about Me:

1. I’m married.
2. I like Bookman Old Style font.
3. I’m a mom to 2 cats.
4. I hope to be a mom to at least 1 kid someday.
5. I’m 5’ 8”.
6. My weight is not proportionate to my height.
7. I’m a website editor.
8. I’ve written a novel. Hasn’t hit a publisher yet.
9. I have very flat feet and bunions.
10. I have a lithium deficiency.
11. I have a brother who’s 3 years younger than me.
12. I have a sister who’s 14 years younger than me.
13. We all come from the same parents.
14. I want a house with a yard for a garden and animals, a wind turbine, solar panels, and a compost heap someday.
15. The compost heap’s name will be Marjory.
16. My cats are named Jordan and Figaro.
17. Jordan’s a rather docile 11-year-old boy kitty.
18. Figaro’s a rather evil 3-year-old girl kitty.
19. We never had pets growing up.
20. I love nature. My best childhood memories are on Above All, the 7-acre spread we lived on in Warren, CT.
21. I have excellent hair.
22. I have blue eyes.
23. I’m a bit of a TV addict.
24. I’m a font of useless entertainment trivia.
25. I was born right after the Summer of Love (’69).
26. However, my folks aren’t baby boomers or hippies, so it didn’t mean anything.
27. I’m a witch though, so the hippie vibe snuck in there somehow.
28. I consider myself Unitarian, study witchcraft, and read everything I can get my hands on concerning other world religions.
29. I hope to go back to school someday to study anthropology, environmental science, and world religion.
30. I met James Doohan at a Star Trek convention and got his autograph.
31. I babysat the granddaughter of Edward Binns when we lived in Warren, and got to meet him once.
32. Was a Republican from age 18 to 28. Then I came to my senses.
33. I read the newsletters of the Organic Consumers Association and the Natural Resources Defense Council.
34. I think George W. Bush’s public speaking skills are laughable, and that the man’s in danger of blowing himself up when he tries to think on his feet.
35. I’m above average at Jeopardy, but I don't answer in the form of a question.
36. I love to read.
37. I'm a knitter. Fiber freak. Knitting Bitch. Addicted to yarn. Enjoy my pointy sticks. You get the idea.
38. I can’t draw. Have definitely tried, but my talents lie elsewhere.
39. I’m a homebody.
40. I enjoy almost every type of music, except Country Pop.
41. I’m a fan of Garrison Keillor’s writings and radio show.
42. I’m smitten with Bradley Whitford (West Wing) and Hugh Laurie (House).
43. However, I’m head-over-heels-goofy-shout-from-the-rooftops-heels-over-head in love with my warm, fuzzy husband. Big difference.
44. I enjoy my caffeine. It’s a love affair I’m weaning from.
45. I’m a chocoholic big time.
46. I’ve eaten an entire pint of Haagen-Daz Chocolate-Chocolate chip in one sitting.
47. Recently.
48. I’m way addicted to junk food. No brainer.
49. I’m a tomboy.
50. My job doesn’t require that I dress up.
51. My job’s boring, but not bad.
52. I’m thinking of homeschooling my kids.
53. Really should have the kids first, then plan these things.
54. I like the looks of Waldorf education techniques and am studying them.
55. I hate Florida.
56. I love cold weather.
57. I’m indifferent toward snow, because I never learned to drive in it.
58. I walked in an Avon 3-Day for Breast Cancer in 2002. It turned into a 1-day because the county where it was held wasn’t prepared for the number of people or the hypothermic conditions. It was one of the more exhilarating experiences of my life.
59. I’m an Internet stalker. I’ve found friends I knew from junior high and from age 5 through the Web.
60. I like my face.
61. If I could change one thing about myself, it’d be my lack of willpower. The weight would slide off from there.
62. I’m a purse horse. Sometimes a shoe horse too.
63. I have two piercings in my left lobe and one in my right.
64. I can’t imagine getting any more piercings.
65. I have one tattoo on my right wrist, and I’d love to get a couple more of those.
66. I’ve worked as a:
a. drug store clerk
b. waitress
c. busser (much more fun than waitressing, but not as lucrative)
d. movie theater manager
e. home health care paper pusher
f. newspaper night editorial assistant
g. bookstore clerk
h. website designer
67. I couldn’t say which job gave me the most satisfaction.
68. I read For Better or For Worse and Get Fuzzy (comics).
69. I’ve been to England and Ireland, but I don’t remember much from the trip.
70. I like riding trains. Airplanes are a close second. City buses are fine, but inconvenient. Greyhound buses I can’t imagine ever taking again.
71. I have a decent memory for things, but I have trouble picturing faces in my head, even people I see everyday. That bothers me.
72. I have trouble getting to sleep at night.
73. I still sleep with a stuffed animal.
74. I have trouble with heights and roller coasters. I’ll never skydive.
75. I enjoy beer and vodka. Separately.
76. I’m a blogger.
77. I HATE cockroaches, ever since the time a nice big one scurried down my arm at college.
78. I’ve lived in Connecticut, North Carolina, and Florida.
79. In Florida, I’ve lived in Seminole, Tampa, Jacksonville, back to Tampa, Fort Myers, and back to Jacksonville.
80. Never been to the Panhandle.
81. Fort Myers is God’s waiting room.
82. Never witnessed a decent hurricane, thank the Goddess.
83. Broke my ass twice, literally: once while sledding around age 15 and once on the job at the Tampa theater. That’s a solid month of hurt, lemme tellya.
84. I played the trumpet in high school.
85. I want to learn violin, cello, flute, clarinet, guitar, and French horn at least, not necessarily in that order.
86. Toss piano or keyboard in there too.
87. I have a small keyboard, but getting both hands to work at once has me baffled. Need to buy a book.
88. I own a small djembe drum.
89. I sang soprano in the junior choir. Problem was, I’m an alto.
90. I was a doormat when I was a kid.
91. I must like to talk about myself, because this hasn’t been too hard to do at all.
92. Now that I’ve said that, I can’t think of anything.
93. I’m addicted to Lip Medex. I call it Schmoo.
94. I like New York-style pizza. I don’t like Chicago-style pizza.
95. I’m chicken to try sushi.
96. I want to try black olives, but I can’t get past the color.
97. I wear contacts. I love contacts. I won’t try eye surgery unless it’s a last resort for some reason.
98. I’m a huge pacifist now. I don’t believe in the death penalty. I don’t understand the absence of humanity in the Middle East.
99. I’m mostly Irish.
100. I crack my knuckles.

Photo found on Yahoo.com (popular photos)

Just pokin' along...

Not much to report...this is a reading week, as opposed to a knitting week. Worked on a scarf for a bit yesterday, and started that swatch thing the other day, but otherwise, stuff's getting neglected on the fiber end.

Instead I paid about 2/3rds of my library fines and got into reading mode. South Mandarin branch had copies of Big Girl Knits and Mason-Dixon Knitting, so I'm entrenched in both at present. Also got in a classics mood and grabbed Middlemarch and Mansfield Park...I never got to read decent classics in high school. I don't know why, but it just seemed like my classes got the duds--when other classes were reading Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men, I was reading Steinbeck's The Red Pony. You ever read The Red Pony?! Four chapters, and the pony's only in the first one; then he dies. Whoopie! Definitely could've used Of Mice and Men; ended up seeing the play and the ending surprised the shit outta me!

I barely remember getting any book assignments in high school, because the books they assigned were unremarkable for the most part. Plus, I had your basic public school education, so we weren't guided at all in the understanding of the books. If you knew how to read, then you were expected to read it and then answer the questions posed afterward. When you got the questions wrong, was when you were told the meaning behind the book. I was baffled, and they threw books on us too early without enough explanation. Seventh grade may seem early enough for the dry, longwindedness of Oliver Twist or the flowery language of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, but if it's your first shot at combining reading with analytical thought, you've gotta have a little guidance or else the books will sail right over your head. I gave up early on understanding the meanings within the meanings, and it took the fun out of reading. I didn't get that fun back until after college.

I read Catcher in the Rye and To Kill a Mockingbird on my own in college, nestled myself in the heath of Wuthering Heights just last year, and am working my way up to Moby Dick and Anna Karenina. Classics sneak into my bookshelves a couple of times a year. I may not read them right away, but there's a comfort somehow in knowing that when I'm ready to tackle Last of the Mohicans or Walden or Homer again, that I'll have them on hand.

Speaking of decent writing, Stephen King's Nightmares & Dreamscapes was on again last night, and it was excellent! Last night's two stories weren't scary or gory; they were thinkers, translated by some of my favorite actors (superb casting so far!), and I found myself reveling in the neat/sad/utopian/doomed ideas behind the stories. The man's an artist.

Random TV sh*t

I'm a font of useless entertainment trivia. My pals make fun of me, because I reference Law & Order to make points in conversation. Ah, so what? Like the song says, baby, I gotta be me! Been this way since long before my stint as a movie theater manager...

Had these two going through my head today:
"There's two ways to face a mountain. One way's to go around it and one way's to go over it. Going around it may be easier, but you'll miss the view from the top."
~ Paraphrased from The Waltons (of all things ::rolls eyes::)

That's a show I don't watch regular or look for, but find I can't turn off when I find it by accident. It's just too well-written.

And this gem from original Law & Order:
Coroner: "And now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I need to go remove a javelin from some guy's chest."
Briscoe: "Hey Johnson, why'd you get into this business?"
Coroner (deadpan): "Free javelins."

Yeah, I know...really need to find a hobby...knitting obviously ain't enough...though I did start a swatch tonight because I was inspired by Wendy Knits, who was inspired by the Mason-Dixon gals to try a log cabin something...thinking it'll help me get over my fear of picking up stitches.

Shoe Farts & Zoe

Is it too much to ask to own shoes that don't fart?

Went to Wilson's Leathers before haircut Saturday to burn the rest of the gift card Meara had given me...found another nice pair of Birk-wannabes, mauve with a flower cutout...get 'em home, try 'em on...plop, plop, plop...nice little air farts as I walk. I'm sure it'll dissipate as they break in...it better...#$%^&*(!

Still haven't been knitting much, but found my Zoe disk when I moved the dining room around yesterday! No, not ruthee's Zoe...Zoe is my novel, the 2nd part of which is badly in need of a rewrite before I'll ever send a query letter to a publisher, assuming I ever shore up the nerve to do that. I'd love to dig back into the sucker. I'm happy with the first part, an 8-chapter section that lays the base from a 5th grader's point of view. The 2nd part flashes forward to present and that's what really needs the work. The writing's erratic because a lot of it reflects my past experiences taken to an extreme, kind of a "what could've happened" viewpoint, and writing that was like reliving it at times. It's been, heck, probably a year since I've taken a good look at it, and I think that'll help steer it back into fiction from its semiautobiographical nature.

Restless

Quick bleedover from my SCMoving blog...another reason I don't just buy another cushion for the papasan, is because I'd much rather spend the money on a slipcover for our small couch. Then I plan to recover and restuff the 5 pillows that go with it.

Haven't been in the mood for knitting this week; I pick something up, do a row, move on. If I can lay hands on the pillow pattern I have, to use as a guide, I may start the couch pillows this weekend. Barely need the pattern when you already have the pillows, I suppose; just take out the stuffing and measure. But it's been ages since I've done any real sewing, like say, Girl Scout badge-ages, so I want to make sure I'm doing it right...plus the sewing machine isn't set right tension-wise and all the thread I own is too fine, so I've got my work cut out for me. My previous attempts at sewing with the rather nice machine I inherited from my mominlaw have resulted in loose stitching with a nasty plethora of knotted-up yarn on the bottom of the piece.

Ah, the dreams of a payday weekend. Of course, after the bills, we should have about 36 cents left, so...we'll see how much goes to fabric and thread. I told Les how I want to stop eating out, and I'm putting the Candleflame shawl on the back burner because I don't want to shell out the dough for the yarn. So listen, KBers, my birthday's in 2 months, if ya plan now.....

:)

Yup, I've become my parents...

graphic courtesy of http://www.knowledge-power.com/

Back when I was a little kid, in the bygone days of 1 TV per household, I would occasionally be relegated to my bedroom with a book because the parentals had commandeered the tube to watch something devastatingly boring, like National Geographic or NOVA. I certainly wouldn't deign in those days to watch it with them, not after the brain exercises of an entire school day behind me, and in the summer, I couldn't be bothered because it wasn't fun enough. I'd roll my eyes, shove off Lil Bro, and bury myself in a book.

Now that I'm a 30-something young fart, I wish we had the National Geographic channel on our extended cable and content myself with others, like Discovery and Animal Planet. But last night brought home to me how a child evolves into an adult, when I sat down and watched NOVA from beginning to end. On frickin' String Theory. And I dare say, there was understanding going on there.

As an '80s child, the small town public schools I attended, sucked at encouraging learning, so I spent my childhood not living up to my full potential. Now I'm a sponge. Whether it's anthropology, a new knitting pattern, or a frickin' dinner recipe, I can feel my brain light up as the understanding takes hold. I so hope I can pass that light onto my own kids down the road. But I'll also understand where that eye roll comes from when I try to get them to watch NOVA with me, because I know their time for appreciating knowledge will poke its head out in due course. And not before.

A similar thread for another time: dragging your kids to Home Depot and not understanding why they're bored stiff.

I just love working in a cubicled environment.....

.....she said sarcastically.

It's not the noisy coworkers that bothers me. It's not the occasional fragrances wafting over the wall that make me want to quip, "nice cologne. Must you marinate in it?" It's not the meat-market temperature settings that set me ranting.

Today, it's the BO.

Someone either had chicken soup for lunch at their desk or took one too many smoke breaks outside. There's a distinct BO lurking in my general vicinity. I've checked; it ain't me.

This is Florida, people! If you've gotta be outside, bring your frickin' deodorant to work!

This public service message brought to you by Melanie's nose. We return you now to your regularly scheduled workday.

Patience

Ain't it purty? Found it on the NRDC site.

Patience is never something I had a lot of, pre-meds. Since my chemical imbalance has been tempered by some beautiful pharmaceuticals however, my ability to take things in stride has become a wonderfully calming influence in my life. I can usually sit in gridlock without bitching out my fellow inmates, and the diddley-shit happenings of life don't have me climbing the walls like they once did. If I ever meet Tom Cruise, I will beat the living shit out of him before he has a chance to flash his smug smile at me. I'm a functioning human being thanks to modern medicine, and Scientology can kiss my large, cottage-cheese ass.

Where'd that come from?

I guess from the mindset that if I'm going to be held up timewise, that it at least be for a good reason. If it's going to take 10 minutes for me to negotiate the exit ramp off of 95 heading toward my work, then there'd better be a 3-car pileup waiting for me afterward. But no, not even a stalled car; just people not letting each other merge in a polite fashion in all likelihood. Dipshits.

Oh yeah, patience. The thread was actually going to be about how I started something last night that I wouldn't normally have the patience for. The Candleflame shawl from Knitpicks is a 36-row lace pattern, but to start the shawl/stole, you do 18 rows of garter stitch first, which means if you goof up irreparably once you get going on the pattern, you're ripping out a discouraging amount of work. Had one fellow KBer already come up against this, so I decided to build a swatch. With a little bit of work, hopefully this'll get me more confident about ssk and lace in general, as well as the pattern, so that when I finally order the yarn, I'll be ready for it.

Downright sensible of me. Very unMelanielike.

Blogs have themes?

What a great shot! Can't you just picture the cameraman saying, "now, c'mon guys, spread out. You look like bowling pins!" graphic courtesy of http://www.webshots.com/g/d2006/7-nw/59814.html

I'd forgotten blogs have themes. CBS Sunday Morning did a story on blogs this weekend. This blog used to be about knitting and witchcraft and turned into a diary instead. Not a bad thing, but I'll have no one to blame but myself 6 months from now when my identity's stolen. Just mean it's been getting pretty personal lately, and I'll be trying to gloss over the personal for a bit to assuage my paranoia, stick to the exploits of a knitting witch.

Problem is, I'm getting really bored with my current UFOs. I'm working the body and 1 sleeve of Beach from Knitty, the SSS, and a curly brimmed hat that I'm pretty sure will fit no one I know once I'm done with it; maybe I'll mail it to Keelin. I'm just not much of a sock gal, so I need something else lacy to challenge me, have several ideas on what to try, but can't buy yarn until payday. Wah! SSS is still fun, but I'm about 2/3rds of the way there, so you knit one row and it's like, ok, brain's dozing off; what else can I work on?

Can't......resist......diary......mode.....what a fantastic weekend! Spent Saturday working out, helping our wonderful Terra and her brood pack their moving van to escape Florida (the lucky shits!). Came away with a nice wingback chair, an office chair, and one of those indoor fountains. And came home to discover that the wonderful husby had torn the bedroom apart to move the chest of drawers we'd also inherited from the Terra clan into the bedroom. He'd stowed the winter clothes trunks in the closet, put his and my spare clothes into the drawers, and viola! A bedroom that doesn't resemble an explosion in a clothing factory!

I'm S....L....O....W....L....Y cutting the apron strings on my papasan chair, because we plain don't have the room for it unless we get a storage space, and I really don't want the added monthly expense. I mean, we could EASILY justify a storage space; there's 2 extra coffee tables in the dining area and I turned the corkboard into a worktable by laying it on top of the boxes I already store stuff in. But we can certainly do 9 more months the way we are.

Sunday was Bob Evans with husby, talk about our futures, goopily looking into each other's eyes (barf bags are available in the lobby), and a delicious day of relaxing and hanging with each other. My biceps are good-sore from the moving, and my energy level's up. Full moon tonight, may try some meditation with the fountain on. Lughnassadh will be here before we know it, and I want to catch up on my blessings :)

Dedication to Miss Terra

So this is Terra, one of our Knitting Bitch founders and a wonderfully warm, fuzzy person altogether. Her hair's a little shorter and darker now, and her belly's quite a bit smaller, since her daughter escaped from her little gestational house about 3 months ago, but it's a great candid shot, stolen from our firefightrix's blog (try saying that 3 times fast!).

This tall, beautiful, amazing chef of a lady and mommy is leaving us Bitches in Jacksonville this weekend for good, for the wilds of northern California, where she can raise her 2 granola children and wild-haired techie husband in an adorable little town that's rife with nature and probably doesn't have a yearly murder statistic. There's no pleasing some people.

I can't help looking up to this girl, and not just because she has about 4 inches on me. I'm 10ish years older than she, but she's accomplished so much more, from raising younguns to having a decent career to fall back on, one that she enjoys and can take pride in, one that'll add to her family's health and wealth should she ever need it to, while at the same time being able to stay home and raise her kids her way. She motivates me to get my life on a better track. She's a great listener and puts forth the appearance of someone who's secure in who they are, someone who's centered without being annoying about it. I'm sure she doesn't really wear the cape I'm putting on her, that she's as insecure as the rest of us, but to the innocent bystander, she's one sharp cookie!

I'm going to miss the heck out of her, and I'm thankful for this information age we live in, so that we can keep up with each other's lives as the future progresses. I mean, I'm all for the occasional road trip to visit friends, but Florida to Callie definitely requires significant planning so it could be years before we see each other again. I take comfort in the fact that I have family near where she's moving, so I could plan a joint family/friends/Napa touring trip someday, but for now, my life is all about SC, creating our own small people, and better careers for Les and I.

So I write to let her know how much she'll be missed, and that we'll be blaming her when ruthee bails on KB for work or because her turtle shell's more comfy than Panera when her best bud is gone. There'll be some wound licking, but we'll go on, better people for having you in our lives and secure in the knowledge that this isn't an ending; it's a transition. Goddess speed, Terra, Kevin, Draken, and Keelin!

~ Irish Blessing

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
And the rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May Goddess hold you in the hollow of her hand.

Four-Day Weekends Go By Too Fast :(

Where'd this sucker go? I lazed my way through Saturday and Sunday, spent most of Monday with Mom and Meara, and Tuesday afternoon at Steve & Lynn's. Poof! Back to work!

One thing that sucks is when I get great relax time on the weekend itself, but then the night before work starts up again, the insomnia hits. Took me forever to get to sleep last night, which was compounded by asshole neighbors who felt it necessary to celebrate the 4th with firecrackers into the wee hours of the night. Isn't it like, common courtesy to not perform loud noises, like setting off firecrackers, after 10 p.m.? Someone send a memo to the ethnically diverse individuals in my complex.

Monday was nice; hit the mall with Mom and Meara, got some great Bath & Body Works stuff and a new pair of Birk wannabes out of it. We hit Carrabba's for dinner (holy hell they went heavy on the garlic on the Shrimp Damian!! Gargled twice and was still scaring off vampires!), and then saw The Devil Wears Prada. Very nice movie in spite of the vacuously materialistic subject matter...made me want to lose 125 pounds instead of 75, but also made me want to pay more attention to my appearance for self-pride's sake.

Steve and Lynn's was bliss, pure joy! Poor Steve got heat exhaustion from working the grill for us, but I spent the better part of the afternoon entertaining a rather beautiful almost-2 year old. Sandy hair, cute face, small, light, prone to smiles and hugs, answers to Lukas. Reminded me of just how much small people take over your entire life though, which left me pensive. We've got a ways to go before we're near that stage still, and for all my impatience, I know this year pre-small people will be good for us.

Ah, poo, work meeting; more later.

Independence

It's hard to feel patriotic when you're against the war your nation's fighting. That's a short-sighted view, I realize; for example, I had trouble enjoying any kind of national pride on Memorial Day, when I should've been looking beyond the damn Middle East to all the other wars our country has fought in to preserve our freedoms. So sue me; I've got a cousin in AIT at Fort Gordon, probably headed to the sandbox on his next hitch.

But I'm a huge fan of the movie "Yankee Doodle Dandy," consider it Cagney's best, and an excellent interpretation of a bygone era, so I'll probably pop that in the VCR this weekend to help remind myself how this is still the best country on the planet in which to reside.

It's Friday before a 4-day weekend, a knowledge that brings a rather orgasmic smile to my face. Time to clean some house, get some sun, look ahead a bit, do some knitting, get some rest. Keep from drinking. Energize/motivate the husby. Maybe start working on my bike. I've been wanting to clean the rust off the sucker for a while now, have the supplies, just gotta bring it in, take it apart, and start in on it. It may not be worth it, but I'm going to try to salvage it; take everything apart and clean it down, reinflate the tires. It's been exposed to the elements for far too long, which is why I say it may not be worth it; it's only a Magna from Target, not a Cannondale or anything.

The brake calipers are a shade different than what I'm used to, but everything else is standard. I lived on a bicycle back in college; even though I had a car, most of my campus travel occurred on 2 wheels, was just easier than dealing with parking. I'd love to get back to using it more, stick a basket or bag on it for grocery shopping and such. Jacksonville absolutely blows for bike paths and sidewalks in my area, but I'm still not walking nearly enough and something's gotta give.

Probably can't start Folly this weekend, no $ for needles :(

Just had an exquisite thought.....a Knitpicks credit card. aaaaaahhhhhhh......

ehem, as I was saying, my Western crave may get served again this weekend, as Hallmark is playing the first Lonesome Dove straight through Sunday afternoon/evening and HBO is playing the first 3 episodes of Deadwood sometime this weekend too...neat! Also, Terra & co. are looking to get rid of a dresser (one less thing to move), and in spite of our complete lack of space for another stick of furniture in our apartment, I want to take it off their hands. We need it badly; Les and I are fighting for shirt space in our respective dressers, and I dream of the day when I have a different vessel for keeping the winter stuff in, because the plastic piece of shit that currently houses it absolutely isn't moving up with us next year. If you'll excuse me, the organizational wheels in my head are turning...

graphic courtesy of http://www.usahistory.org

Quickie remembrance

graphic courtesy of http://www.amazon.com

Subtitle: How soon we forget, or Reason #614 why I don't want my kids in public school...

Yeah, like private school's any better nowadays...

I saw Dawn Anna last year when it first came out on Lifetime™, I'm guessing around the 5-year anniversary of Columbine. Dawn Anna is the true story of a mother of 4 who contracts a form of cranial vasculitis and the resulting surgeries force her to relearn everything from talking to eating. Fast-forward 5 years, she's recovered, but still symptomatic (severe vertigo, concentration issues), engaged to be married, and her youngest daughter, Lauren Townsend, is ripped from her by Klebold and Harris at Columbine.

I remember being impressed with this movie when I saw it last year, how it managed to give us the whole fighting-through-life-with-the-help-of-her-amazing-kids storyline without being saccharine or schmaltzy about it. So when it was on TV last night, I kept it on because we're in the midst of the summer TV drought of decent shows, and with the beers I was imbibing, I thought I could use a little uplift. Thing was, I'd forgotten about the Columbine link until it was almost on top of me, as the youngest daughter is walking away from Mom's car with a friend in a Columbine letterman's jacket. I was surprised that it happened back in 1999. I'd forgotten that the little bastards killed themselves and saved taxpayers the trouble of doing it for them. How in the world do you reconcile yourself to a death that random? I really need to compile thoughts like these into a book of essays, because there's a bunch of different tangents going off in my head, as I sort through the impact that movie had on me. How sad that the movie and not the act itself is what I remember. And how easy it is to forget.

There's still this cold spot in my belly as I think about it. I really need to get a copy of the Pagan Book of Living & Dying (M. Macha NightMare & Starhawk). I've always had a problem with the concept of death; not a fan of the fact that we can't remember what happens from one life to the next, plus the implied/assumed permanence of it, and I think that's one concept I need a grip on before kids enter the picture, so that I can eventually let them outside the house without going apoplectic. Probably smart, since I already recognize that one of the reasons I want to homeschool them is to shield them maybe too much from what's "out there."

Stupid Thursday

Four-day weekend...four-day weekend...four-day weekend...

Meara's been making fun of me for watching Westerns this week (Broken Trail this past weekend and Deadwood last night), so I thought this piccie would be appropriately vexing for her ::snickers:: graphic courtesy of http://www.webshots.com

Again, fairly average week, not much to report. FINALLY started a 2nd ball of laceweight on the SSS, right around row 100. Enjoyed brews this week more than once, but I'm hitting a turning point on 'em again, I think. Unfortunately, I have my dad's appetite for alcohol and my mom's constitution for it. This means when I crave a 6-pack, I can drink a 6-pack and feel no hangover the next day. I feel like the poster child for alcoholic denial. Never mind that I want to be healthier and making babies, never mind that I shouldn't touch the stuff with the meds I take, never mind that I'm an f*ing depressive to begin with. It's not about logic.

Needless to say, I'm going to enjoy a simple night of coffee and...with the gals tonight (and robbie). The ole SSS is finally starting to look like something, and I've got an inch or so going on the base of Beach which, at 280 stitches to a row, feels like an accomplishment. Knitting a sweater in the round is like channeling The Little Engine That Could or something...

Couldn't decide which illustrated me more, belly or buns, so went with all three on the Big Girl Knits button that should be showing up at left. I'm really looking forward to trying a couple of those patterns!

Rebounding (again, and again, and ...)

How can people see pictures like this and still want to drill in the Arctic?

Better today; last night was just brutal though. Gotta be PMS. Went from the attitude of that last post, to Smokers Express to buy cancer sticks for the husby and had to listen to a conversation involving the realism of TV wrestling vs. those small claims court shows. Never mind that it took $15 to fill the tank halfway. By the time I got home, I was like, don't touch me, where's the beer?

Today was free food at work (pre-4th of July picnic) and sitting outside at lunch helped; sat really still so that I could feel the light breeze on the hair on my arms. It's getting damn hot out there, but when you quiet yourself, the mind-over-matter thing is still possible. Also I asked for Monday off, so I have a 4-day weekend to look forward to. Meara's coming home for a quickie break; might take in a flick with her and Mom.

One very neat thing: I emailed Amy Singer of Knitty last week because I had a question about a pattern and couldn't figure how to reach the designer, Jillian Moreno. Hadn't heard back from her, so I did some more digging for Jillian's email addy, since she and Amy also wrote Big Girl Knits recently, and was able to email Jillian directly about my question last night. Had an answer by this morning, so I'm definitely starting Folly with the rest of the blasted Wool Ease once I can invest in the circulars, hopefully this weekend. In the meantime, all my in-the-round things (SSS, base of Beach, and sleeve of Beach) are keeping me busy.

graphic courtesy of http://www.defendersofwildlife.com/

Tuesday rant...

Paraphrased from M*A*S*H:
"Boys, in 16 months and 4 days, I intend to be barbecuing in my backyard in Hannibal, Missouri, with my wife. Why are you wetting on my charcoal?"
~ Colonel Potter

Not much to write today; just one of those days where I'm a little too bored and the little person in my head is screaming "YOU'RE WASTING YOUR LIFE IN THIS CUBE, LES NEEDS A JOB, AND IF YOU TWO DON'T START TRYING FOR A BABY SOON, YOUR OVARIES ARE GONNA DRY UP AND FALL OUT!"

Ah. That feels better.

Monday ramblings...

So Club Paris is opening this week in Jacksonville...a new club downtown someplace, owned by Paris Hilton and some other guy. Wonder if the skanky little twig will grace our humble, ethnically diverse little city with her presence for the grand opening...better tell the convenience stores to stock up on celery sticks and amphetamines. Oh, and treats for that overgrown rat she always carries with her...

Believe me, this ain't jealousy. I can't understand the purpose of people like her, except to make us Americans look bad. Like we need her help in that department with Bush in office...I'm sure she's a nice person, but to the intelligent bystander (me!), she's vacuous beyond comprehension.

Fairly lazy weekend; again, it's the baby steps that give me that feeling of accomplishment. Purged the dressing area around the bathroom sink of dust, hair, half the beauty accoutrements that don't get used, and did laundry. Whew! I'm spent :)

Got myself in the mood for Westerns yesterday; AMC played Open Range and The Man from Snowy River (sigh!) to market their new Robert Duvall vehicle, Broken Trail. Damn decent story so far, 2nd half's tonight. But getting back to Man from Snowy River...where the heck has Tom Burlinson got to, and why isn't he posing nekkid somewhere?! I think I need to own that movie...

Work's so dead, they sent us home til lunchtime. I'm pretty sure it's due to a new phone system being put in at our sales center in Washington, rather than an unexpected drought in website sales. We should be back to being behind sometime tomorrow.

A fresh outlook?

From whence comes this energy? Is it really as simple as getting some fresh air at lunchtime and laying off the junk food? I haven't even been exercising yet...baby steps. I've been puttering around the house at night or knitting. But something's stirring. Les feels it too, I think, in his own way. His physical limitations keep him from like, taking walks in this weather; he'd get a headache that would lay him out for 2 days afterward. But he was awake enough this morning to suggest tearing into the apartment more this coming weekend. And that's my kind of suggestion, not his.

I need to store up these feelings, because soon it really will be too hot to go outside at lunchtime without creating some serious stink. As Junes go in Florida, this one's been average. Supposed to get up to 92 or so today, but it didn't feel like it, even with the breeze having taken a leave of absence. Only reason I didn't stay out longer was the damn ants eating my ankles alive.

Pray for rain, y'all, and enjoy your weekend!

Embracing the summer

Not something I've ever been able to do...I've hated Florida for about 15 years now, but somehow the knowledge that I have it in me to orchestrate our egress from this blasted state is creating a renewed tolerance for it. I've been sitting outside at lunchtime. To your average Floridian, I'd be considered nuts, but in all honesty, it's not that bad if you sit in the shade and listen to the air. There's still a breeze and the cloud cover keeps the sun from being unbearable. I sit and listen and read, and find myself channeling all this fantastic energy once I'm forced back inside. It puts a silly smile on my face, makes it a little hard to contain my body, which wants to break into a run around the building. So I try to store it away for later, when the sleepies hit mid-afternoon. Actually I don't get sleepy of late, just hungry, because I've been eating healthier all week for some reason and staying away from the sodas. Just drinking my fruit juice at lunch has me feeling more in touch with nature.

I also performed a simple solstice ritual last night. Wish it could've been more for Summer Solstice, and outside for that matter, but I made do. The great thing though, was the protection spell I conjured for my family; again, my attempts at visualization were entirely successful, and I came away from it feeling so strong!

Embrace the summer, gang!

graphic courtesy of http://www.thomashawk.com/

Summer solstice and other ramblings

Where the heck is Yahoo! today? Don't those people realize that they've thrown my whole day outta whack by not allowing me to check my email and connect with my peeps? Did I really just write that sentence?

I hate when sabbats fall on a workday. I was going to wake up for sunrise this morning and trance, but with the way I've been sleeping, I knew it wasn't realistic and reset the alarm. The one sabbat where it's like, pivotal to wake up with the sun and I can't pull it off. I'm not ticked with myself, because I know I needed the sleep; I'm just ticked in general. I think I need to do ritual outside tonight to make up for it. Maybe at the little park off of Old Kings...

Wonderful surprise yesterday; Christy stopped by work and we got to catch up! Such a relief; hugs, a little crying, and a good step toward shoving away that thing hanging out there. She's taking classes to get her GIA certification (jewelry making), and gave me the most wonderful bracelet, made of garnets, rose quartz, and moonstones. The ice is broken, and thank goodness, because we're about to lose long distance phone again. Seems ridiculous that St. Augustine is considered long distance; whatever happened to just dialing 1 and then the number for calls that were nearby long distance? Am I showing my age by asking that?

Did just a bit of work on SSS and Beach last night...that's the problem with long-rowed projects, you finish 1 row and it's like, ok, I'm bored, new project. May start a sleeve for Beach too, so that I've got something else to turn to in times of boredom. Got 2 balls of sock yarn from Miss Carrie last week at KB, but I think I'll offer 'em back to Steph, because I know socks aren't in my immediate future, or if they are, they're with the purple striped yarn that I've never finished. I'm thinking of talking myself into ripping out my L O N G shaft of sock that I started and starting over with a K2P2 rib instead of single. We'll see...

Merry Solstice everybody!

graphic courtesy of http://www.webshots.com

Find a happy place, find a happy place, find a happy place...

I should call this whole blog "Vent;" that's what it is half the time. But hey, it helps my sanity, and that's the important thing.

Living in an apartment complex has its drawbacks. Living in an apartment complex with no built-in washer/dryer connections is a pain in the tush. We live right in the middle of our complex, which normally means schlepping the laundry to the top or bottom of the complex to one of the two not-quite-ample laundry facilities that the management company was kind enough to grace us with. These are equipped with those commercial washers and dryers, which are operated with a makeshift credit card that you add money to. Given the colorful diversity that makes up my neighborhood, these machines have seen better days.

We'll now pause for a moment of irony: my apartment HAS built-in washer/dryer connections. The complex put them in months ago and then proceeded to appropriate the dough for the machines toward the renovations that are occurring on the entire complex. We can't put in anything ourselves until the city inspectors come to look over the work. In other words, we should be moving out next April before that happens. I asked the assistant manager yesterday about the washer/dryers; she just started laughing before she could help herself.

So it was with sunny intentions that I went down last night to start 2 loads of laundry. Had plans to do 4 loads last night. I start one washer fine, then the other. The 2nd one, it turns out, is out of order with no sign posted on it to this effect--it's not agitating. Terrific. So I add detergent to the next machine in the hopes of transferring the load from the bum washer. Slide the card in--Card Error. Try again, same response. Examine card, must've gotten it wet. Dry it off copiously with my shirt, not an easy thing since it's 110% muggy in that laundry room. Try again. And again. And again. Try another machine. Start to get those giggles that you get when your frustration is reaching sub-human proportions, kind of like Denis Leary's character in The Ref.

Ok, fine, the 2nd load just won't spin; at least it'll get a good soak and rinse. Hope it burns out the f*ing motor on the damn thing. I hop back home to inform husby of the difficulties and wait out the wash cycle. Elect not to bring down any more wash, because of the sinking feeling that the card ain't gonna work for the dryers either.

Hate it when I'm right. Have you ever tried carrying 2 loads of WET laundry up a flight of stairs? I hoisted it onto my shoulder waitress-style (discovered the ease of carrying laundry baskets this way quite recently...been living without washer/dryer for oh, 10, 11 years now ::sigh::), and I still sounded and felt like I was re-enacting the training scene from Rocky IV. Les jumped into action and we rigged a clothesline from the bathroom to the closet for the light stuff, and put the heavier stuff on hangers. Given the dynamics of our apartment, it'll take a solid day or so for everything to dry.

Now I get to go to my management office and sweet-talk them into giving me a fresh card and my money back; I had nearly $15 on that card, so I anticipate a song-and-dance about them not having enough petty cash on hand--it's happened before. But what can I do? It's an inconvenience; nothing more.

Except dream of SC, where our next abode, be it apartment or rental house, will HAVE f*ing washer/dryer connections that we can operate!

graphic courtesy of http://web.mit.edu/seagrant/edu/res/nemo/index.html#peach

Getting focused...again...

When DID I find time to model this shot?

JK, this is from Knitty, and the model has on my latest attempt to get rid of some of the blasted Wool Ease. It's a REALLY simple looking sweater knit in the round. My base will be Blue Mist (heathered navy blue) and the variegated section and sleeves will be in Heather Rose; only the 2 best colors to go with my eyes (she remarked immodestly). Might do the Blue Mist on the cuffs and collar, haven't decided how dorky that'll look yet. The only problem I can see is just how simple it is; the base is knitted in stockinette in the round for 16" or until you shove a knitting needle in your eye out of boredom.

I need a new pair of Doc Maartens; wonder if I can borrow hers?

Funny thing though, there's something about working with bamboo needles in medium sizes like 7s or 8s, that just chills me out. I poked away on this and on the SSS (in 7s) this past weekend and felt nothing but centered. Put the garter stitch poncho on the size 11s in my hands, and you would've had a different story. But in fairness, I've become a yarn and needle snob of sorts, and that project has enough petroleum in it to fuel my car ;)

Had a decent weekend; caught up on rest, thanks to a bottle of wine on Friday night (heh), and tore into one small section of the living room...just the interior and underneath of one of those dust-catching end tables. Tried Kung Po shrimp for the first time...it's pretty spicy, will only order in future when I'm REALLY in the mood for spicy. You couldn't wash down the spicy with beer like you can with Mexican food. It's scary trying new Chinese dishes; they're just so different. I NEVER ate Chinese when I was growing up (or vegetables for that matter), and my folks' idea of Chinese was Chun King Chow Mein in a can. ::shudders:: I digress...anyway, hoping to hit the VCR tape bookcase and CD area this week, get the CDs closer to the actual stereo so we'd, ya know, play them occasionally.

Summer solstice this Wednesday and not a moment too soon...I need to bury the talismans from my healing spell last week in a fresh plant and create a protection spell for a separate party. I'm going to try my darnedest to perform ritual at sunrise on Wednesday, outdoors someplace. Beach would be perfect of course, but I don't think I want to spend the gas. Then again, the city parks don't open before 7 a.m., so beach will probably be best.

Happy Monday, y'all!

Bloglet

No news is good news on the Nanie front, however I still think she stopped by my cubicle yesterday.

Working a website called Smashing Jewels. Female jewelry designer. Is it just me or does that company name suggest that she just got done with a bad divorce or something? Sounds therapeutic.

What's weird is I'm not currently harboring any animosity toward the opposite sex. That's just the way my mind works.

It's maddening having a nice fat stash, a couple of projects in mind, and knowing that you need new yarn to start said projects. Also impossible to explain to spouse why you need more yarn when you already have plenty...words like gauge, tension, and fiber type fly clear over his head and settle somewhere behind him in the couch cushions. And then he gives you this look that says, just admit you want new yarn. Well, YEAH, that's what we were just talking about, but see, this yarn would have a set purpose (until I change my mind mid-project)... I guess that's what drives people to try and only shop for yarn that they're planning to use for a specific project. I oughta be laying off the sheep fur between now and Columbia anyway. Well, maybe I'll try that, but in the meantime I'm still up to my ears in Wool Ease and White Buffalo.

Damn Spidey sense

If only my sixth sense was reliable...

I've worked through enough coincidences, deja vus, and "how the hell's..." to consider myself a little psychic. When I smell Half Mile Road, my Nanie's old house, I know it's time to ask about her to my folks again. Once in college, I had this wave of feeling hit me, enough for me to call my folks right there at work and confirm that everything was ok. It was. I got back to the dorm that night and found out that my best friend (at the time) Brian had been in a car accident that afternoon.

So I'm sitting here at work, and I think I may have had a visit from somebody. Out of the blue, it's as though someone else breathes out through my mouth. The taste is slightly different, and it floods me with that "someone's walking over my grave" feeling. It feels like Nanie, and I pray it's not, even though that same apprehension is coupled with a "this is ok" feeling. Like she's close to being between worlds or something. She turns 95 next month, so I certainly wouldn't fault her for taking a dip into the netherworld here and there as she gets closer to it; I'm just selfish and not ready to give her up.

Hair on the back of your neck standing up? Yeah, mine too.

I resisted the urge to email Mom and Meara. It's probably nothing, why worry anybody? My system's low on Paxil at present, could be my brain playing tricks on me. That's rationalizing though; it felt too real. I'll definitely meditate tonight to try and trance myself to a level of exploring what happened a shade deeper.

And then I'll rip out my pink and blue projects, because I keep forgetting that Wool Ease sucks for knitting lace; gotta buy me some real yarn, like from Knit Picks. Is it pay day yet?

I'm not an aloe murderer!!!

graphic courtesy of http://www.globalherbalsupplies.com/herb_information/aloe_vera.htm

Will wonders never cease? Granted, it's the only thing I've managed to keep alive on that porch without serious sun damage, but I really thought that I'd be facing some sad looking plants when I got off work yesterday. Instead, the rain was exactly what that potting soil needed to give it the necessary density to hold my fragile fronds. And the water did wonders for every pot; their color was starting to pink up from all the sun, but I faced some nice green aloe in the 4 transplant pots and even a new baby or two poking its head above the soil.

Big boy Sylvester surprisingly, is the one needing a little TLC. He's comprised of 2 quite large plants in a big-ass pot, but it's evident that from the manner/direction he's growing, he's about to seriously outgrow the pot on one side. His bottom leaves are dying off, which is probably natural, but it still appears that he needs to be separated from his twin. Aloe can survive on shallower pots than I've got (their roots grow laterally rather than southward), but his general size would still be the issue--I will officially run out of room on the porch if I separate them into 2 pots, so I think Mom is going to have to inherit one of them. Better to cut some of the cord now, since at the rate I'm going, all the KBers will be gettting some aloe before we move to SC next year.

Would love to pass some onto Miss Terra, but when I think about it, all I picture is their minivan packed to the very ceiling with their livelihood that couldn't fit in the moving van, plus the infant and 5-year-old clamoring for attention at every rest stop. I'm thinking plants are low on the list of things meant to survive that cross-country trip. She put some beautiful pictures up on her blog (link at left) of where they're headed; just makes me ache. They're so far north, it was frickin' 42 degrees at 5:30 a.m.! It'll be 6 months before we see those temps here again :(

Crud. I need to focus or I'll spend the whole day reading Columbia, SC websites and trying to plan for next year instead of, you know, editing websites.

Tuesday rambles

This blog (and graphic) brought to you today by the US Blueberry Council. I picked blueberries for the first time on Saturday; Les and I (yes, folks, the husband woke up at the crack and joined me...I still think it was because he didn't trust me with the new car) hoofed it down to Middleburg to pick blueberries, which I turned into a rather tasty dump cake the next night. Dump cake is a southern concoction normally involving two types of fruit, a box of cake mix, and at least a stick of melted butter. We used the mashed blueberries, a can of crushed pineapple (should've used 2 cans), a box of Duncan Hines Butter Recipe Golden, and a stick and a half of melted butter. Layer blueberries in 13 x 9 pan, add pineapple, sprinkle cake mix evenly over it all, and drizzle the melted butter evenly over that, trying to wet as many dry spots as possible. Bake at 350 for about a half hour or until the top is golden brown. Probably not an ounce of nutritional value, but damn, is it delicious!!! I only wish we had vanilla ice cream to go with it :)

It dawned on me around 4:00 a.m. today (Tuesday) , as the winds of Alberto were pummeling our little apartment and soaking us with rain, that I forgot to take all the aloe down from my porch ledge.

Crap.

Granted, aloe is a tropical plant, so I'm sure to a certain extent it's used to this kind of weather. But it's also a succulent, which I think means it's susceptible to drowning once it's all filled up with as much water as it can take. Hell, that's probably true with any plant. I know the one in the biggest pot is probably safe, but the others, the ones who've been trying to take root in straight, not-nearly-dense-enough potting soil, will probably reach floating capacity this afternoon.

Shit.

You know it's time for a new computer when.....was all set to download a new stole pattern from my Yahoo email last night, because I fell in love with it and wanted to start it (because I'm into stoles right now apparently, and a big chicken in that the stoles aren't nearly as intimidating as those shawls that start from the center top back with like, 8 stitches...apparently you can't think too hard when you're starting those, but if you just follow the instructions, it works out--kind of like turning the heel on a sock). Umm, where was I...oh yeah, thing is, if I'd left my computer to download it last night, I think it would've been finishing up right about now (it's 9 a.m. the next morning). Holy craptastic, it was slow! So I printed it out at work, but that has its own level of suckiness because the paper that it's printed on is practically unreadable in black and white. There's no pleasing me.

Performed full moon ritual on Sunday night, for the first time in an age; really helped bring me back into my witchy self. I performed a healing spell for a friend of a friend, and the visualization was as good or better as the one I performed to protect Cyril when I thought he was heading to Iraq. My friend Katherine's friend, Spring, has cancer. I met her at Kath's college graduation and her wedding; nice girl. Her bonehead doctors thought it was ovarian, performed a hysterectomy, and assaulted her body with chemo only to discover that it was actually colon cancer, which had spread to parts unmentionable. Now that she's had reconstructive surgery to fix that mistake, and spent the last 5 months being treated for the wrong cancer, now they're finding spots on her liver and lung. There's gotta be a lawsuit in there somewhere, but in the meantime, she has 2 boys, ages 5 and almost 2, who'll probably lose their mom far too early.

The visualization was excellent though (wish I could write about it, but I'm superstitious about that. It's like telling a birthday wish after blowing out the candles; I'm afraid it tempts fate somehow. Suffice it to say that it was powerful.), and silly me, I forgot to ground afterwards, so it took me forever to fall asleep, but I think I was still riding the good feelings from that ritual well into the next day. Pulled out Silver's To Light a Sacred Flame, because she has a great method for rededicating yourself in there, and I've pulled out Starhawk's Spiral Dance to bone up on the basics. I'm glad Solstice is just around the corner; I keep skipping holidays and then wondering why I feel so lapsed--that'll be the perfect time to rededicate myself.

But first, earning the ole paycheck :(