Fruity!
.
I pulled several ounces of wool off my big spool 'O cobweb, and played with kool-aid. Actually, I played with a Flav-R-Aid; and learned a lot. First, I learned that wool is kind of water resistant, and you should wash it with a bit of soap first. (I didn't do this) Second, I learned that the combination of hot water, dye and vinegar caused my wool to release more lanolin. The previously stiff yarn now wraps around tiny needles easily. Third, I learned that it takes a while for the wool to soak up all the dye. And last, I learned that Flav-R-Aid leaves a chalky residue on the bottom of the dish, and white dandruffy flakes sticking to the wool. But they come out easily.

I'm Twisted That Way
.
Have you ever been playing games on the internet, when suddenly, a nonsense rhyme pops into your head? Like, out of nowhere... there it is; and you have to stop playing so you can blog about it?

Or is it just me?

This is what interrupted my gaming:

"Don't pump me full of chemicals and bury me in the ground. Just toast me 'til I'm ashes and spread me all around."

So I turned it into a poem, with extra verses, on my other blog.

Thinking Aloud With My Fingers
.
How intricate do I really want to get? The first swatch of lace turned out ok. The pattern would be better defined on smaller needles, but the wool has a lot of fuzzy bits that make larger needles better for showing the open work. I can't have it both ways. So...
Option A -scrap the whole cobweb weight idea and knit with crochet cotton.
Plus Side Minus Side
better stitch definition, much quicker knit ____ not what I wanted
can make it very fancy and textured ____________ feels like cheating

Option B - suck it up and start knitting, hope that when it's the size of a tablecloth it'll look ok.

Option C - knit several boring lace shawls from stash yarn and donate those instead.

None of the options make me happy, but leaning toward option B.

Question - Why do I want to make such a complicated item for the auction? Answer - Because I'll be proud of it. Because it should bring in more money for the school. And because I'll be proud of it.

Not Too Bad... And You?
.
All previous pissing and moaning aside, I can walk and stuff. There's a knot on my knee where I hit the ground, but no real bruising. Just a kind of greyish shadow. Oddly enough, the worst pain is where I skinned my arm during the fall.
Why is it that skinned arms and paper cuts hurt worse than bigger injuries? You would think our bodies would have better pain wiring.

So today, I'm off to the library. I'm also going to get snake food. The E.A.R.C. has started carrying gerbils, which are the perfect size for Sinbad the snake. And they're cheaper than buying 2 mice or a small rat. I actually prefer feeding Sinbad gerbils, and not just because of the price. I think rats are cute and smart, and they make good pets... but not in a house full of cats. Gerbils, on the other hand, can be aggressive.

*note: the spell checker doesn't acknowledge "gerbils" as a word, and thinks "greyish" should be spelled "grayish"
I have clear opinions on grey vs. gray. Gray is a hair color. Grey is everything else that's black with some white mixed in. :P

Waaa! It's Not Fair!
.
Why is it that I cannot find a pattern for the things I wish to knit? And why is it that today, when I was at the freaking library; I forgot to pick up a stitch guide book? And why is it that I had to fall down, which is likely to make the 2 block walk to the library nearly impossible? Aaaargh!
(It's my blog and I'll rant if I want to, rant if I want to, rant if I want to.... You would rant too, if it happened to you.)

I want a shetland shawl pattern that's deliciously complex. One with at least 5 distinct lace patterns, and one that isn't this or this. They are both fine patterns, but they're everywhere. I want to knit something rare. Also, I'd like something a bit more complex. Neither of those patterns are meant for the superfine wool I have. (sigh)
The other thing I want to knit is a wizard hat, that I can then felt. However, I can't find any hat patterns that have a wide enough brim; and I don't know enough about the mathematics of increasing to know when to increase to achieve the desired result. Um, and I'm too lazy to knit up a dozen variations and felt them. Besides, wool ain't cheap.
Anyway, there's my rant du jour.

I Fell Down
.
I hate it when that happens. I hate it even more when I lose my footing because of a cat toy. What I hate most of all is that after the (undoubtedly humorous) "trying to regain my balance" dance, I crash to the concrete floor of the basement, taking 90% of my weight on my left kneecap.

I *love*, however; that I didn't break anything.

I probably looked pretty ridiculous scootching up the stairs on my butt, lifting with my good leg, and flailing around a handful of printer paper for balance. The printed sheets being the reason I was in the basement in the first place.

I don't bruise easily, and I slathered comfrey oil on all the OWies; but If I develop anything spectacular, I promise I'll photograph it for your enjoyment. :)

Bear Shorts
.
I can fit into my polar bear shorts! (actually a pair of small men's flannel boxers with polar bears all over them)I'm really happy about that, 'cause I love those shorts.
Yes, I know I'm 36 years old and should wear something a bit more mature. But seriously, wouldn't you wear fuzzy bears on your butt?
Hrm. Maybe it's just me. :)

I also got to step on Amy's scale (not owning one myself), and it registered 126. It took 15 years, but I have finally achieved pre-pregnancy weight. Hey! That means I can fit in my wedding dress!

wow.

Ta-Dah!
.
.

.
*I* knit these! ME! All by myself! I even modified the pattern that I found at Knitty.com. I added an interior pocket to hold herbs, rocks, little dolls... whatever.
I made them for a pair of girls who are having a coming of age (mooning?) ceremony. I hope the designer, MK, doesn't mind.
:)

Um. The Hubby-Man pointed out that some of you might wonder what the hell they are.
They're wombs. Complete with cervix and fallopian tubes.
'Cause I'm a freak.
A very proud freak.

Help! Oh Please Help!
.
I bought 3 1/2 lbs of wool on ebay. It was supposed to be sport weight, but it's not. It's semi-stiff, semi-hairy, one ply wool; and it's ultra thin. In places, it's as thin as one of my hairs. The thickest sections (where the sheep fleece is spliced together) are less than half the thickness of lace-weight. On average, the "yarn" is the thickness of two human hairs.

I've found numerous patterns for cobweb-weight shetland shawls, but the recommended needle sizes seem HUGE for this super fine wool. I've knitted up a few swatches on 2.5mm or 3mm needles, and it doesn't look right.

So, if any of my readers are knitters... or know knitters... please...
Do I invest 6 months in a shetland shawl on these needles? Or do I buy 1.5mm needles and invest 6 months with them?
I've never completed a lace project in wool. I don't know squat about how blocking makes it all work out. Every one says "trust the pattern", but it's hard, you know?

That Book.

I turned all the pages at the end. The bio, notes on artwork, who did the cover art... I kept thinking, "There has to be a note or something at the end... There has to be."
There wasn't.

If your copy has a little note from J. K. Rowling, let me know, ok?

There's A Whole Lotta Book Thieving Going On
.
Yesterday, our postal carrier delivered the latest HP book with a smile. She wished us happy reading and went on to deliver joy to other families. I handed the box to L, who tore it open and slid out the green hardbound book.
He sat with it in his hands, examining every bit of art on the front and back covers. Then he opened it and read the insert. I knew he was doing this to drive me crazy, and I didn't rise to the bait.
I expected him at any second to rush off to his room, cackling madly, book in hand.

Instead the little shit set it aside, saying, "I don't want to read it just yet. My favorite TV show is coming on soon."
He was baiting me.
I decided I could bait him too.
See, he thinks I'll start reading the book, then be willing to read it aloud.
So the book sat between us on the sofa; neither of us touching it.
Until the Hubby-Man entered the room. He asked, "You taking a break?"
We both said, "no." Stubbornly.
Hubby-Man said, "Yoink!" and ran off to the bedroom, book in hand, cackling madly.
I followed him, then stood within his range of vision, looking outraged. The second he put the book down, I swiped it.
Mad cackling ensued.

As a result, every chapter or so, the book would pass hands. None of us have finished it yet. Each of us has our own bookmark stuck between the pages.
It's pretty funny.

And The Hubby-Man Rocks My World
.
Last night we both laughed over forgetting our anniversary, and went back to watching anime.
Today, I came home from a friend's house to a dozen perfect red roses. Just sitting in a vase in the kitchen, waiting for me.
Isn't he wonderful?

I Love My City
.
I found a new blog. Brick City is so worthy of my sidebar. If you live here, if you love here, go visit there. I get the impression that Built is as enthralled with St. Louis as I am.

What Do I Need A Calendar For?
.
I ask you. Really.

Because I have a calendar hanging on the wall, and another tacked to the refrigerator; and I never look at either of them. If I had, I might have noticed that

today is my 15th wedding anniversary.

The hubby-man and I both felt pretty sheepish when my cousin called to wish us a happy anniversary. In unison, we said, "Is that today?"
(shaking head)

I'm truly a goofball.

All The News That's Fit To Snark
.
From NOVIS (read the entire article here): "Proposals to put cigarette-style health warnings on soft drinks to highlight the harmful effects of too many sugary beverages has been called patronizing by the American Beverage Association, writes Anthony Fletcher.

In a petition filed this week with the Food and Drug Administration (FDA), the Center for Science in the Public Interest (CSPI) has asked for the introduction of a series of rotating health notices on containers of all non-diet soft drinks-carbonated and non-carbonated-containing more than 13 grams of refined sugars per 12 ounces.

Suggested warnings include US Government recommends that you drink less (non-diet) soda to help prevent weight gain, tooth decay, and other health problems” and “To help protect your waistline and your teeth, consider drinking diet sodas or water.”

...

From the Daily Telegraph (read the entire article here):By LARISSA CUMMINGS

July 15, 2005

WHEN he spotted an embargoed copy of the coveted new Harry Potter novel on sale four days before the global launch, Sylum Mastropaolo thought he was in heaven.

But after devouring the first pages of the top-secret wizarding sequel, the nine-year-old's parents made him return the book to the store.

In Sydney, copies of J.K Rowling's sixth Potter novel are being guarded in unmarked cartons in bolted storage areas – forbidden to be opened, read, or even photographed before the official release at 9.01am tomorrow.

...

Ok, then. Warning labels on soda should not include advice to drink diet soda. The sweetener in diet soda carries it's own risks.

And the HP book? Wow. I applaud that boy's parents.
Also, I'm going to release my pet theory here. Dudley Dursley is the half blood prince. Aunt Petunia is not a muggle. She's not even a squib. I think she turned down a chance to go to Hogwarts when she was a kid, because she wanted to be "normal", and that's why she was so jealous of her sister.

One more snippet of news, from MSNBC: (read the entire article here)
Pope Benedict believes the Harry Potter books subtly seduce young readers and “distort Christianity in the soul” before it can develop properly, according to comments attributed to him by a German writer.

I completely disagree, of course. The characters in th HP world have great "powers", and the burden of great responsibility to balance those powers. From a Christian perspective, God gives people talent in varying degrees and it is up to the people to use their talents wisely and well. Every child wants to live in a world where their wishes could be made true easily. J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter series teaches children that nothing is easy, and everyone is human. Cause and effect are very clear. Everything comes with a price. Perhaps the Pope thinks there isn't enough guilt in the books?

I don't know. And I don't much care. The Harry Potter books brought my son into the world of reading, when all my efforts failed. When HP and the Half Blood Prince arrives on my doorstep, my son will be the first to read it. He's already told me that he plans to snag the book and drag it off to his room until he's finished it.
(whimper)
And he reads slowly.
(waaaaah!)
The good news is, he read "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" in 5 days; so his read-speed has improved greatly.

All Star
.
My husband is watching the All-Star pre-game Red Carpet show. No kidding.
Baseball players in expensive suits being interviewed as if they're getting an Oscar or something.

*UPDATE*
Before the game got underway, there was a moment of silence for London's victims and their families. During which, one asshole could be heard shouting. Then they put the UK flag up on the big screen and played "The British national anthem"...

And we all enjoyed a lovely brass rendition of "America, The Beautiful".

...
It gets worse.
...
As the last note faded away, an aircraft flew overhead.

It was a stealth bomber.

To me, that is the ultimate tacky choice. I believe London has had enough stealth bombers. Don't you?

*secondary update*
I would swear they played "America, The Beautiful. However, the Hubby-Man says they played the music we recognise as "My Country 'Tis of Thee". Which is the melody of "God Save The Queen"
So I could be wrong. But the stealth bomber was still in bad taste.

An interesting note from Wikipedia:
"My Country, 'Tis of Thee" (also known as "America") is an American patriotic song, sung to the tune of God Save the Queen, the national anthem of the United Kingdom and formerly of Commonwealth countries such as Canada, Australia and New Zealand, which now only use it as the royal anthem.
The same melody is the national anthem of Liechtenstein and has served as an anthem for Denmark, Germany, Russia, Sweden and Switzerland.

Cat Games
.
My cats have a new game. It's called "Inhibit The Knitter". Every time I pick up a project, all 3 cats cluster around me. One lays on my feet, another snuggles up to my right elbow, and the third plops down on my lap. Then they all fall asleep.

About Knitting
.
K, P, K2Tog, YO, M1, Inc... these abbreviations mean something to me now. I'm still intimidated by SSK and Slip one, knit one, pass slipped stitch over. I refuse to think about "knit in front and back of stitch"
But with the 6 techniques I have down pat, I can knit a helluva lot of stuff. Once I better understand knit combinations, I'm going to tackle the biggest project ever. Bigger than the shetland shawl I'm thinking about.
I want to knit a scarf using the melanocortin 1 gene as a pattern.

Don't look at me that way! It was the hubby-man's idea! But really, how cool would it be to have the red-hair gene knit in a scarf? And thanks to the internet, all I have to do is find it and convert it to stitches. Hee!

4th of July Madness
.
We got a lot of rain on the 4th of July; which washed the streets clean and flooded the downstairs bathroom. All that water meant my neighborhood would be reasonably fire resistant. But before we spent an evening watching our neighbors mix explosives and beer, we went to the movies and saw War of the Worlds. I was hoping for some good special effects, and the movie totally lived up to those expectations. But somewhere between our house and the theater, a screw got embedded in one of our tires.
Of course, no tire place is open on the 4th. So we changed the tire in the parking lot. I was kind of miffed that my hubby wouldn't let me do it. I mean, how often do you get to change a tire, right? I wanted to show off my mad tire-changing skills. (sigh)
Yeah, yeah... the hubby-man got the job done twice as fast as I could have... so what.

There was a fireworks stand in the theater parking lot. So we stopped in.
Now, since fireworks are illegal in the city, the hubby-man did not buy mortars and L did not buy ground effects and 50 billion snap and pops. Nor did anyone buy bottle rockets. I actually hate bottle rockets. They're about the most useless firework around. They go 20 feet in the air (if you're lucky, otherwise they shoot 10 feet sideways and land on a car, person, box full of fireworks, etc.) and "explode" in a miniscule shower of amber sparks.
Since we didn't buy anything, we didn't get a handful of punks, which I did not give to my neighbor when I saw his little boy lighting bottle rockets with a cigarette. My neighbor doesn't even smoke. One of his friends gave him some cigarettes *specifically* to light fireworks with.
I am not kidding you.

On a brighter note; they're building new houses across the street (grrr), and there's a giant mound of dirt over there. Remember that rain I said we got? Yeah, keep that in mind. We had climbed the rock hard sun-baked dirt the day before, and discovered we could see fireworks from 4 different cities. Nice.
So we climbed the mound again on the 4th. Except it wasn't rock hard anymore. There was a mushy layer of silt at the bottom, and I snickered as people sunk in up to their ankles. I took a longer route, avoiding the silt while building up layers of mud on the soles of my sandals. I felt like I was walking with snowshoes on my feet. But we made it up to the top and enjoyed a 360 degree view of fireworks.
.
.
.
Today, I paid $20 to have the tire fixed. I had the oil changed while I was at it. On the way home, I stopped off at a craft store. I knew better, but I did it anyway.
See, I need size 00 circular knitting needles so I can knit up the cobweb weight wool I bought. But they didn't have any 00 needles. They didn't even have real wool, only wool blends. (peh) Yet there I was, surrounded by yarn, in all it's fluffy goodness... Those bright colors and lovely textures... Crying out, "Socks! I'd make great socks!" So I bought 2 skeins of variegated yarn, a larger set of double-pointed needles, and a pair of row counters.
Yes. Knitting has sucked me in.

Happy Independence Day
.
In addition to pox exposure, My grandma probably had a slight stroke. She's in the hospital right now.

Here's wishing you a day filled with freedom and fireworks.

*Update*
Grandma had a "mini stroke". The doctors say it's not a big deal. They're going to keep her for the next day and a half or so, and watch her. At dinner, she couldn't get her right hand to grip her utensils; but she was determined to feed herself. Which she did.
She had chicken and peas in the pod and mandarin oranges. There's no slurring of speech. Nor is there facial paralysis. Her right leg is weak, and her right hand won't grip. All in all, it's not too bad.

A Pox On Your House
.
Chicken Pox, that is.
My wonderful son had a house full of friends yesterday. They were all crammed in his room, playing video games. Later that night, I got a call from one of the moms. Their son had a little fever, and she wanted me to know that her son might have exposed everyone to a cold. Isn't that sweet? I mean, how many parents do that nowadays?

She called me again this morning. Her son has chicken pox. The poor kid. To be all itchy in the middle of summer, and not even get free days off of school.
L never caught chicken pox. Our family doctor doesn't carry the vaccine. And I'm not sure I would have vaccinated my son anyway. I mean: measles, mumps, polio... Those are nasty. But chicken pox? You smother 'em in calamine lotion and watch for complications. And the chicken pox shot is fairly new. I don't really trust it. I wonder how many vaccinated children will develop shingles as adults? I guess we'll find out.

Anyway. The result is that L didn't get the shot and spent several hours breathing pox air yesterday. There's a varicella zoster immune globulin shot that L can get within 96 hours of exposure. I'd like him to get it. He wants no part of that. I'm going to try again when he's more awake. If he's caught it, he'll be contagious or itchy right when he's supposed to be in summer school. All incoming students are required to take a "care and feeding of your laptop" class.
To make things even more interesting; I haven't had chicken pox, either. My sister never had it. My mom never had it. Not even when she was taking care of her 7 siblings when they caught chicken pox.
It's likely that my mom caught a very mild case as a child, but my sister spent years doing pediatric check ups. The odds of her avoiding exposure are slim. Yet when the shot became available, she had to get it. Because her blood test showed that she had never had chicken pox. I'm pretty certain I've been exposed before, and I know L was exposed several times in daycare. Our doctor isn't willing to do blood tests just to satisfy my curiosity.

So... We have 96 hours to get a shot, or we can wait and see if we get bumpy. If we do, there's a pill that might help ease the itching.

Yep. Life is always interesting! :)

Hey, St. Louis!

We're having a little bit of a drought here, and tomorrow is the 4th of July. Which means cheap fireworks will be lighting the sky for the next few nights. If you don't water your lawns; they'll be lighting your grass, too.
I know it's a hassle, but you might want to water your roof, too. It's been a long time since St. Louis was so dry... But trust me; debris in your gutters or laying on your roof will catch fire.