Friday, September 29, 2006
This is the end
My only friend, the end
Name that song and the group who sang it.
This is my last post on Blogger. Thanks for the memories Blogger. I'll keep the site up here because I haven't been able to transfer all my posts over (such a Luddite) to WordPress.
You are cordially invited to join me as I continue to blog about my exciting life here. Don't forget to add my new URL to your Bloglines.
See ya later, alligator.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
I went to church and a knit group broke out


Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Censorship
Thanks for all your comments about how to import Blogger posts to WordPress. I found my way to the Import section and made all the correct clicks. And WP imported everything for two years up to the end of July.
I think it doesn’t like the rest. Perhaps it’s not of a certain quality.

I have a huge learning curve--how to add all the bells and whistles that are eye candy for the attention deficit (like I am) or the links to shopping for the fiber addicted (like I am). If you have any suggestions about where to read, what to do, I'd be much obliged. And I'll post my new blog address when I have a little more figured out--still under construction at this point. Also I have made two posts in WP, and they are not sorting "newest post first." Any thoughts?

I have a huge learning curve--how to add all the bells and whistles that are eye candy for the attention deficit (like I am) or the links to shopping for the fiber addicted (like I am). If you have any suggestions about where to read, what to do, I'd be much obliged. And I'll post my new blog address when I have a little more figured out--still under construction at this point. Also I have made two posts in WP, and they are not sorting "newest post first." Any thoughts?
Help! I need somebody
Those of you who've made the move from Blogger, help! Did you move all your archived posts or just create a link back to Blogger?
Go ahead, make his day
My eleven-year old has created a blog. It would make his day, week, month if you visited and left him a comment.
Thanks!
Once again I am persona non camera
(I probably just told you I eat raisins by the light of the moon, but after reading my last post, you will know that retention of language has ceased to be my forte.)
When I find that @#$% camera that has gone missing AGAIN (where is my gingko biloba?), I will post pictures of the great yarn that Anne sent me. Thanks Anne!
And the super cool D-backs merch that I won in Andi and baby (CUTE!) Kendra's contest.
And Mama-E's rockin' fall socks club yarn. Pictures cannot do it justice. I want to eat it--it's that beautiful.
Oh, and I can't forget, Blogless MJ (now not so blogless--but love the name), shared her mango shawl with me.

The only caveat is that I finish it. It's so beautiful. I hope I don't disappoint you MJ! Check out her blog; she's a knitting wonder--with Koigu no less! And I haven't forgotten my September ColorSwap package. I promise Valerie! I'm assembling it today and will post by the weekend. Oh, and while I'm at it, check out her totally awesome SOCK YARN STORE!!!!! Shop 'til you drop, knitters. She has Fleece Artist. And she has Regia Bamboo on sale. 'Nuff said. And you too, Chocolate Swap partner Marion from Estonia (how cool is that?). She is the most amazing knitter--knitting her friend a dress without a pattern. Wow. What's Estonian for "you rock"? Oh, wait, don't tell me because I'll forget. But tell my 2.3 readers--they would like to be able to drop Estonian words casually into conversation. And to answer a question posed awhile back by the anonymous S.N. "What is a Chibi?" Ah, the knitting jargon. I asked the same question not too long ago. The answer dear S.N. is this: "The Chibi is a jumbo darning needle set. It has a easy to handle case with a screw on cap and comes with two jumbo sized needles (other silver needles shown are DMC tapestry needles). The case keeps needles safe by helping to prevent accidents and misplacement.". Props to Merribee for the def.


The only caveat is that I finish it. It's so beautiful. I hope I don't disappoint you MJ! Check out her blog; she's a knitting wonder--with Koigu no less! And I haven't forgotten my September ColorSwap package. I promise Valerie! I'm assembling it today and will post by the weekend. Oh, and while I'm at it, check out her totally awesome SOCK YARN STORE!!!!! Shop 'til you drop, knitters. She has Fleece Artist. And she has Regia Bamboo on sale. 'Nuff said. And you too, Chocolate Swap partner Marion from Estonia (how cool is that?). She is the most amazing knitter--knitting her friend a dress without a pattern. Wow. What's Estonian for "you rock"? Oh, wait, don't tell me because I'll forget. But tell my 2.3 readers--they would like to be able to drop Estonian words casually into conversation. And to answer a question posed awhile back by the anonymous S.N. "What is a Chibi?" Ah, the knitting jargon. I asked the same question not too long ago. The answer dear S.N. is this: "The Chibi is a jumbo darning needle set. It has a easy to handle case with a screw on cap and comes with two jumbo sized needles (other silver needles shown are DMC tapestry needles). The case keeps needles safe by helping to prevent accidents and misplacement.". Props to Merribee for the def.

File this under: Yes, I really WAS a language major. No, I'm not blonde under the red.
So the other day I commented to a guy that my daughter would really like his flame-covered sneakers. He said, "Yeah, El Fuegos."
And I said, "Oh, I thought they were Converse."
I'm still blushing.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Resounding thanks! And a Contest.
Thanks so much for all of you that weighed in on the SKB survey. I will take all your suggestions into consideration--especially the ones that suggest a higher neckline. Maybe my SKB love will be requited yet, or I'll end up knitting it for my daughter who has a perfect pre-pubescent physique (then she'll spill ketchup on it).
My sp8 girl Harriet is having not one but TWO contests! Go find her cute self in the Stitches postcard section and let her know and guess which pattern and which Opal Rainforest yarn she will be using to knit her next pair of socks. There are yarn prizes involved. This girl has seriously great yarn. Check it out!


Friday, September 22, 2006
Simple Knitted Bodice Survey
I'm watching the wave of SKBs across knitbloglandia, and I want to make one. But I have a question.
Will the SKB work for those of us who have, shall we say, an abundance of frontitude? Or will we just be showcasing the girls? Will the design of a slightly-parted front become a flaw for those who've already hit puberty (unlike the girl in the pattern)?
I want to know because I WANT the SKB. Shall I requite this love or add it to the afore-posted post?


Thursday, September 21, 2006
Love, Unrequited Style
My girl Ellen, aka The Red Mojito (mojito, yummmm), who when she is not making me laugh is making me think (scary combo), posed a question--why do people like cats?
And I responded thusly, "for the same reason we have crushes on movie stars--unrequited love. It's all about the melancholy." We love our cats and, at best, they tolerate us. We adore our movie stars (marry me, Viggo, I promise you won't regret it), and they wouldn't know us from a hole in the wall.
Isn't it true?
I'm all about the unrequited love. And if you asked me for a list, of course I would have to say "Alphabetical or chronological?" and "Imaginary or real?" and "How much time do you have because it's a pretty extensive list."

Starting with Donny Osmond back in grade two to the present day. And I can't "out" my latest unrequited one because it could lead to public humiliation for me. Maybe someday. I'll give you a hint though. I'm a sucker for accents, especially any and all derivatives from the Commonwealth Realms. I'm also a big time sucker for smart guys, oh, and cute, oh, and a nice bod doesn't hurt. (And if you're making an educated guess, for heaven's sake don't post it in the comments; this is a public blog. Email me and we'll talk.) I'm narrowing the field too much. We all have unrequited loves--be they human, spiritual or material (think Tilli Tomas or Alchemy Haiku). There certainly wouldn't be a music industry if we didn't obsess over relationships lost or never found. And literature would definitely be the poorer should we collectively awake and say, "No more loving people or things that won't love me back!" Melancholy may be an acquired taste, but once embraced can become addiction. The sweet despair, the divine discontent. The complete control. That's the heart of my unrequited love; I'm forced to admit. My imaginary lovers never color outside the lines or memorize the wrong speech. The pain is bittersweet--a tiny bit bitter but mostly sweet. Very like the glamorous illnesses in stories of old in which women in gauzy dresses dwelt in opulent sanitoriums langorously awaiting heroes' arrivals. It's not the gut-wrenching, limb-severing pain of real life when people walk away and won't give you a second (or third or hundredth) chance or where the person or feline or fiber you would die to have won't give you the time of day. I will try to live in the real world, honest. But don't fault me should I repair at regular intervals to mingle with my unrequited lovers. And don't ask me about it because I won't kiss and tell. Okay, maybe I will.

Starting with Donny Osmond back in grade two to the present day. And I can't "out" my latest unrequited one because it could lead to public humiliation for me. Maybe someday. I'll give you a hint though. I'm a sucker for accents, especially any and all derivatives from the Commonwealth Realms. I'm also a big time sucker for smart guys, oh, and cute, oh, and a nice bod doesn't hurt. (And if you're making an educated guess, for heaven's sake don't post it in the comments; this is a public blog. Email me and we'll talk.) I'm narrowing the field too much. We all have unrequited loves--be they human, spiritual or material (think Tilli Tomas or Alchemy Haiku). There certainly wouldn't be a music industry if we didn't obsess over relationships lost or never found. And literature would definitely be the poorer should we collectively awake and say, "No more loving people or things that won't love me back!" Melancholy may be an acquired taste, but once embraced can become addiction. The sweet despair, the divine discontent. The complete control. That's the heart of my unrequited love; I'm forced to admit. My imaginary lovers never color outside the lines or memorize the wrong speech. The pain is bittersweet--a tiny bit bitter but mostly sweet. Very like the glamorous illnesses in stories of old in which women in gauzy dresses dwelt in opulent sanitoriums langorously awaiting heroes' arrivals. It's not the gut-wrenching, limb-severing pain of real life when people walk away and won't give you a second (or third or hundredth) chance or where the person or feline or fiber you would die to have won't give you the time of day. I will try to live in the real world, honest. But don't fault me should I repair at regular intervals to mingle with my unrequited lovers. And don't ask me about it because I won't kiss and tell. Okay, maybe I will.