Labradorable

Off to See the Wizard

What's going on here?  It's the costume parade part of the Singalong Wizard of Oz show that DD and I went to today.  She didn't dress like Dorothy, but at least 20 other little girls did.  We had a great time, and I'd highly recommend attending this if it comes to a theatre near you.  There are matinee and evening performances, and Oz fans of all ages are welcome.  We got goodie bags so that we could participate along with the movie, kind of like The Rocky Horror Picture Show, only rated G.  For example, whenever Glinda showed up, we all had to blow bubbles.  The words to the songs and the cues for the props in the goodie bag were on the screen so everyone could follow along.

DD went as Glinda.  That's her in the middle of the blurry photo.  It's the only one I have of her, and I managed to catch her at the only time during the costume event that she was not beaming from ear to ear.  She and ten other little girls spent most of the movie in the aisle, waving their magic wands and dancing, and that was absolutely encouraged.

We were supposed to go to this on Sunday evening, but DD was still sick.  I called the theatre and they were so kind.  They told me it was no problem to exchange the tickets for another show.  And that leads me to. . .

Holiday Update

The black eye that I got on Christmas Day when the dog jumped on my head while I was trying to stay warm in bed (with a fever and no heat in the house) has turned yellow and it's hardly noticeable any more.  I know I told you that we waited hours for the plumber to show up and fix the furnace, but I didn't tell you it was DH's only brother.  My BIL is a plumber who does mostly commercial work and has made it clear that he wasn't interested in doing residential work for individual homeowners.  So, in the almost 7 1/2 years we've been married, we've always used another plumber, and I'm the one who calls him.  Because I was sick, DH called his brother on Christmas Day.  It was a quick fix, and DH asked his brother how much he owed him for it, but BIL said he didn't need money, he'd bill us.  Well, Monday morning BIL put a bill in the mail for the entire value of the service, plus an extra fee for the holiday call.  To put it mildly, I was shocked when DH told me about it.  We've always been good to BIL and his family, and we've house, pet, and baby sat many times for them, plus the times we've brought his kids to museums, the circus, etc. . .   so I was a little surprised that he charged us that much for something that took less than an hour of his time, including travel.  *Then* I remembered all of the times when BIL has asked me to provide professional advice on issues he's had with his business, and I got angry.  I used to help him out free of charge, which is the way that we handle that type of stuff in my family.  The next time BIL asks me something like that, I'm going to tell him how much it will cost him for the assistance. . . and watch the beer shoot out his nostrils!

Knitting Update

I have been working on both the secret surprise and the Fandango scarf.  I've kept my YNBA and not purchased any yarn.  Monica hit a LYS sale that I couldn't have resisted, and she couldn't resist.  When I was reading the comments on her post about that, I was struck by what Margene wrote about how maybe we shouldn't be so focused on yarn-purchasing abstinence and instead focus more on making more reasonable purchasing decisions.

This is the time of year when people are interested in changing themselves during the new year.  Lots of people start diets, buy gym memberships and exercise equipment, look for a new job, and so on.  In our pursuit of bettering our lives, we find excuses for spending money on things that are expected to get us closer to our goals.  There's nothing wrong with that, except that most people (and I include myself) are much better at acquiring the things that will improve our lives than we are at taking the actions and staying the course in the self-improvement marathon.

Purchasing yarn and other knitting supplies is a lot like purchases made toward reaching our new year's resolution goals.  You can always envision the satisfaction you will feel when you attain a goal, whether it's a FO, a particular weight, a career goal, whatever.  You have the best of intentions when you make the purchase.  But these things we buy languish and go unused or underutilized.  Why?  Sometimes it's unrealistic expectations, events beyond our control, unanticipated difficulties, poor planning. . . a range of good and bad excuses.

So, I think that what Margene wrote can apply to those of us who are making new year's resolutions (and I don't know if I will -- I usually do not) in addition to those of us who are trying not to increase our stashes.  It's not exciting to knit something out of your stash when there's a new yarn or pattern beckoning, but if we think more about what we're putting into our stashes before we make purchases, then perhaps it won't seem so bad.  Plus, think of the satisfaction of having a FO *and* having emptied a bit of your stash!

Good luck to all with their resolutions, fiber-related or not, and have a glorious New Year!

More Fun Than Christmas

I'm sure you're all wondering whether Monday morning began with me stepping in cat vomit.  It did not!  DH kindly got up at 5:00 to shovel the driveway for me so that I could be out by 6:00, and I made it to work in a snowstorm.  I was actually early. . . much earlier than everyone else.  Except for the people who are required to be at work for safety reasons, most people didn't roll in until 10:00 or 11:00.  I was *so* tempted to sit at my desk and knit, but I actually did some work.

DD stayed home from preschool and went to my parents' with her new Disney Princess Karaoke machine.  Why people bought this kid not one but two karaoke machines is beyond my understanding.  She sings about as well as I do, which means she cannot carry a tune to save her life.  Now, she can do this with electronic amplification.  She loves it.  When we were leaving Florida this summer, she stood on a chair in the gate area and sang Some Day (words and tune by DD) very loudly to all the other people who got on the plane before us.  I let her do it because I figured she'd use up some energy that would otherwise keep her from sitting still on the plane ride.  Plus, it couldn't hurt if the other passengers got the pre-flight impression that we are an annoying family and didn't try to mess with us during the flight.  Sure enough, the ride went smoothly!  I allowed her to spend tonight sleeping in her official Disney Princess Enchanted Castle, which is a tentlike thing about five feet high that is now set up in her room.  (Oh, yes, I did that and put together a complicated toy for DS tonight!)

I e-mailed my boss (who is on vacation) to ask for Thursday off, and she said yes.  So, Thursday DH and I will be buying a new washing machine in the morning, and DD and I will be doing something special in the afternoon.  I can't tell you yet what it is.

Finally, in order to make up for a photo-less post, let me tell you three things that made me smile today.  (Only read the first two if you do not like potty humor -- don't say I didn't warn you!)

1.  I finally broke down and knitted at work while I was returning phone calls.

2.  Everyone's feeling better and the kids are enjoying their new toys.  (Plus, DD spent the day with Disney Princess Karaoke at my parents' house so she wanted to play with something else when she got home!)

3.  While I was knitting and making calls at work, I drank a big Diet Pepsi.  (I prefer Diet Coke, but the machine was broken, and quite frankly it's going to take more than that to ruin a good day for me.)  As you might imagine, after one final call, I *ran* to the ladies room.  I had to go so bad that I just did . . . then, after the fact, I discovered that there was no toilet paper in my stall.  The stall next to mine has no TP because it's been out of commission for three years.  There was no one in the ladies' room, but if I left the stall, anyone coming in could see me.  But I just couldn't leave without my TP.  I'm just not that kind of girl.  What did I do?  I took a deep breath and ran for the TP two stalls over.  Just as I got into my new stall and latched the door shut, someone entered the bathroom.  Whew!!  I'm sure everyone who saw me on the way out thought I was smiling because I was glad to be heading home, but ya'll know the truth of my daring dash.  I hope that makes up for no photos today -- I mean, really, would you want to see a photo of that?  I didn't even want to live through it.

A Christmas Story

This was a Christmas to remember, one like no other.  Let me take you back. . .

Thursday, 23 December 2004

I got to work 15 minutes late.  No one else noticed because they were all later, but I hate to be late so it just set me off.  Then the software I needed to do a whole heap of work went crazy and IT had to call the manufacturer.  So I had some down time.  I checked my blog and TypePad ate my Thursday post, so I used my time to reconstruct it.  Software came back up and I got work done.

DH called me at work.  First, he told me that the antibiotics DS is on for his double ear infections are giving him horrible diarrhea.  My dad was over to babysit and he changed one of those horrid diapers and found that DS's outfit was dirty, too.  DH said, "I told your father I'd take care of it.  I left it in the sink in the downstairs bathroom."  Yeah, for *me* to take care of when I got home.  Later, DH called me on his way to work to tell my that my mother had shown up at the house, too.  He also says that a cat was vomiting and he was busy cleaning that up and didn't have time to make bottles for DS, so he told my dad how to do it.  I expected my dad would call me later for instructions.

I stayed late at work, didn't finish all my work, either.  No one noticed because they had already left.  Horrible traffic on the way home, so the trip took forever.  Once I got home, I discovered poopy baby outfits all over the house.  I also discovered that my mother had taken DD for a look-see in my closet, where the Santa presents are stored.  Last time my mom visited, she did the same thing and I asked her to not do it anymore.  Apparently, I need a lock for my closet.

I deal with kids, bake pumpkin pie and angel food cake.  Plans for cleaning up kitchen are delayed because overhead light near sink/stove area dies and we don't have any suitable sized bulbs for it.

Once kids are in bed, I sit down to watch TV and knit secret surprise.  No TV, bad rain storm knocks out satellite minutes after I turn the TV on.  I end up watching a boring movie and knitting.  Finally, it gets to be within a half hour of DH's anticipated arrival from work.  I can't wait to see him.  Fifteen minutes later, DD wakes up screaming.  She has vomited all over her bed.  I am still cleaning and comforting her when DH arrives.

I run a load of vomit and poopy stuff in the washing machine.  It floods laundry room, leaks through floor, and causes rain in the basement.  DH and I clean that up.  It is now 2:00 am on Friday.  I have been awake for 21 hours.  I can't take any more.  I ask DH if he ever expected to be here when he met me exactly 10 years ago. 

Friday, 24 December 2004

I took a vacation day from work.  I sleep late, convince myself that today couldn't possibly be worse than yesterday, and jump out of bed, narrowly missing fresh pile of cat vomit.  One dog also vomited during the night.  DD continues to vomit.  DS vomits all over me.  More laundry is done, with much trepidation about the flooding, but leaks are minimal.

I manage to keep up with vomiting, cleaning, and cooking.  DH purchases and installs new light bulbs in kitchen light.  He thinks we need a new washing machine.  My parents come over for dinner.  Neither of them says dinner was good.  After they leave, DH says dinner was "pretty good," which is a huge compliment from him.  He leaves for work on the overnight shift.  I go upstairs to get Santa presents from my closet and discover DD in our bed.  Normally, I'd let her stay there, but I can't risk her figuring the whole Santa thing out at age three, so I put her in her bed and tell her if Santa doesn't see her there, he'll think she's not asleep and won't bring presents.  I bring presents down, assemble only one toy this year, and call it a night.

Saturday, 25 December 2004

I wake up feeling sick.  DD is already vomiting.  DH is taking care of her and DS.  He discovers that the heat is out, which is wonderful for those of us who have fevers. Soon, I start vomiting.  Dogs wrestle in my bed and one steps on my eye, scraping the side of my face.  My mom calls.  She is vomiting.  Christmas dinner is postponed.  By afternoon, heat has been restored.  We open Santa presents and DD is somewhat excited.  Most of day is spent vomiting and sleeping.  I finally feel well enough to keep liquids down by late evening, but DD starts vomiting again.

Sunday, 26 December 2004

No one vomits!  We go to my parents' for Christmas dinner and no one wants to kiss us.  DD spends most of day lying on couch crying and sleeping.  She's going to the doctor's on Monday.  DS is a happy guy and enjoys his first Christmas, though he falls asleep while we are opening presents.  My mom spends the entire day yelling at her mother, who has impaired vision and hearing, congestive heart failure, and Alzheimer's.  My mom tells me that she wishes her mother hadn't come to dinner.  Nothing that my grandmother does during the entire day merits the treatment she gets from my mother.  I try to cheer her up.  I don't know if it works, but it seems to annoy my mother.  Three and a half hours after arriving, we are out the door and on the way home in a snowstorm.  The snow sky is bright enough that I can knit in the car, so I continue working on my Fandango scarf.

Here's DD, with a pillow and blanket, riding in the wagon DS got for Christmas.  (Chocolate dog is a bonus.)  That thing in her hand is a Christmas Karaoke mic that my father's mother gave her -- it plays six Christmas carols and you sing along.  She didn't figure it out until she got home, but when she did I nearly died trying not to laugh.  She makes up her own words, and most of the songs she sings are about You better be good and Santa will bring you a Mulan video, he can see you sleeping, you be good. . .

Finally, here's DD with my mother's mother, who is actually older than she looks.  She didn't start going gray until she was in her late 70's.  She's 88 now.  She was trying to play with DD, but DD was feeling cranky.  That handle in the foreground is for my grandmother's cane, which is a new thing as of this past year.  She also has a walker.  However, she recently got really tired and stole someone's wheelchair at her assisted living center.  Just so you can have some knitting content, my grandmother used to knit when she was a child.  Her mother forced her to knit because they needed the money and she and her mom knit woolen union suits.  She hasn't knit since, and says she hates it.

According to DH, this was the worst Christmas, second only to the one he spent in the Persian Gulf during the war.  This even topped previous holidays where we'd just lost a family member.  The worst part was the kids not being able to enjoy it.  If this goes down as the worst Christmas in our history, that will be fine with me.  The way I see it, they can't get much worse.

On Monday, I'll be leaping out of bed with a positive attitude. . . and this time I'll look for the cat vomit before my feet hit the floor!

I'll Be Home for Christmas

Ten years ago today, DH and I met.  This post is for him and for some other important people.  DH is a Gulf War veteran and says these photos show conditions similar to those in that war.  The song is from World War II.

I'll be home for Christmas

You can count on me.

Please have snow and mistletoe

And presents on the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me

Where the love light gleams.

I'll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams.

Merry Christmas to all!

A Visit to Saint Nick

I'm still working on the secret surprise project and the Fandango scarf, so there are no knitting photos here.  The yarn swift that I ordered (at 50% off, thanks to Kate) arrived today, but I was a very good girl and did not get involved in winding up yarn.  The yarn for the current two WIP's is ready to knit, so I don't need to wind anything.  DD is fascinated by the swift and wants to help me use it.  She likes the ball winder, too.  I'm sure that I will end up posting photos of that activity when it occurs because, according to DH, DD and I are the two most uncoordinated people on the planet, so we will probably make a visually interesting attempt to wind yarn with the swift and ball winder.

I discovered the secret to liking the Fat Bastard Shiraz.  When consumed with cheddar cheese, it is lovely.  No crackers for me, although I'm not on the Atkins diet.  I just like cheese enough that crackers can be an unwanted intrusion at times. 

Tomorrow is the tenth anniversary of the day on which DH and I met.  We won't actually see each other because we're both working, so there's nothing special planned.  DH did take the opportunity to tell me today that he's working the overnight shift on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day and that he's trying to get himself scheduled for a double shift on New Year's Day.  Nice spending the holidays with you, too, buddy.  He worked the overnight on Christmas Eve last year, which necessitated my assembling a kitchen for DD all by myself.  This year, DD wants small stuff, so there's just a riding toy for DS to assemble.

Just so this post won't be photoless, here are the kids on their visit to Santa this year.  We had formal photos taken in November, but they haven't been scanned in yet.  (I'd ask DH for a scanner for Christmas, but he'd buy me a police radio.)

Potable Ponderings

No knitting content today. . . it's all about the drinking.  As you may recall, in this household we are rather inept when it comes to beverages.  We don't own a coffee maker (or any coffee).  We didn't have any shot glasses until Renee kindly RAOK'd me with some that she had etched for me. 

A couple of weeks ago, we bought some wine for Christmas gifts.  I was so taken with a wine named Fat Bastard that I bought a couple of bottles of it.  I know *nothing* about wine, but the name was adorable, there was a cute rhino on the bottle, and it's Shiraz, which I know is a type of grape, but is also just a word that I like to say.  I thought it would be fun to say, "Would you care for a glass of Fat Bastard Shiraz?" 

That Fat Bastard has sat and sat on our kitchen counter since the day we bought it. Why? Because we don't own a bloody corkscrew! I believe that I have opened a couple of wine bottles in the past with my Swiss Army knife, but after I took to hiding it in my luggage to avoid hassles with airport security I seem to have misplaced it. . . I'm thinking in Bogota, Colombia. . . they actually measured DH's Swiss Army knife blade and let him take it on the plane!  (Of course, they might have felt that he was a low security risk given the fact that he got in the line to be frisked by a woman.  This was due to his inability to understand Spanish, not a desire for a cheap feel-up.) I found DH's infamous knife, but he has a model without a corkscrew (bet you didn't know they made SA knives without this feature!). 

My boss, who likes loves wine, told me that she would have smashed the top off the bottle to get at the wine.  I opted to wait until DH remembered to buy a corkscrew.  Now, I wasn't expecting one of those fancy vacuum cork removal systems, but I also wasn't expecting this: 

It cost $2.49, and it ought to be marketed as an exercise machine, because I got a strength and flexibility workout trying to get the damn bottle open with it.  It doesn't help that the cork is not actually made of cork.  It's some sort of plastic putty type thing, perhaps Semtex.  I could see this as being some sort of DIY Molotov cocktail, where one just inserts a fuse, lights it, and throws the bottle, with the Semtex and alcohol guaranteed to make an impression.

In any event, the bottle was opened tonight, but very little wine has been consumed because, well, it's a bit icky.  Maybe someone who likes wine would like it, but I'm sticking to my Guinness (which has run out). 

My parents are coming for dinner on Christmas Eve.  My mom does Christmas Day turkey dinner, so I thought it would be nice for them to come visit the night before so they could enjoy the kids in a more relaxed situation.  My mom's family is Polish, and Christmas Eve (or Vilia in Poland) is a bigger event than Christmas Day.  We used to have 20 to 30 people to our house for a meal of roast beef and baked stuffed shrimp, then (when we were little kids) Santa would drop in to give us each a present.  After he left, we'd open family presents and stay up late having a wonderful party.  My parents haven't done this since 1996, which was the last year that both my brother and I were home for the holiday.  Since then, Christmas Eve has been rather dull and depressing for me.  I can't bring myself to go out, though some nice souls have invited me to join them in past years.  DH often has to work.  This year he is off, and we're doing our own little thing.  I think that I am going to make DH act as sommelier on Christmas Eve.  He can wear the damned bottle opener around his neck -- on a piece of yarn, acrylic yarn!

In other beverage news, it appears that sales of diet soda are soon going to overtake sales of regular soda.  I don't know if these figures have factored in Norma's effort to wean herself from diet soda.  If she succeeds, I have a bottle of unopened Fat Bastard just waiting for her.  Of course, I don't know if I could let her have it, because if she spilled it on her Plain Vanilla sweater I'd be devastated.  I feel like I know that sweater better than I know some people, as it has quite a high profile on the web, so I wouldn't want to be even remotely responsible for its demise.

By now, you've probably recalled that Fat Bastard is the name of an Austin Powers villain.  I don't think the wine has anything to do with it.  Yes, I loved all of the Austin Powers movies and they still make me laugh.  Other movies that have made me laugh more than I expected:

1.  Grumpier Old Men (seen before we saw Grumpy Old Men -- we laughed so hard we almost fell out of out seats in the theater, the kind of laughter that hurts)

2.  American Pie 2 (seen at my brother's house -- maybe it was just hanging out with him like when we were kids, because it wasn't as funny when I made DH watch it -- 1st time I saw it I nearly died laughing)

3.  Austin Powers (every single one, baby)

4.  My Cousin Vinnie (viewed on a huge screen in Ireland)

5.  Bean (and it wasn't nearly as good as the TV show)

I think I'm actually going to try to get some knitting done now.

Dog, Lamb, Sheep

By now you know that yellow dog did not get his 15 minutes of fame today.  He did donate blood.  Despite not being on TV (as if he would have known), yellow dog was a happy guy today.  He got well spoiled by the staff.  Last year we thought he had a thin coat because he came from Tennessee in November and his body just didn't expect the cold weather.  This year, his fur is a bit thicker, but still thin for a lab, so he's still wearing his winter coat we bought last year.  He seems to like the coat, and I know he liked it today because it was cold. 

My car has heated seats, which I had to get because they came with the only option package that had a sunroof, which I really wanted and never use.  (It's the grrl package -- heated seats while you're very young/old, sun roof for blowing off some steam during menopause!)  I thought heated seats were stupid and I refused to use them on the grounds that (a) I have plenty of fat to insulate my ass and (b) if it's cold, one should dress warmer to stay warmer.  I fell in love with the seats after a winter yoga class one night, and now I use them sparingly.  I let yellow dog ride up front today so he could enjoy the heat from the vents.  On the way home it was 17 degrees, and I thought I'd be nice and turn on the heated seat he was sitting in. . . so he lay down and stayed in that seat for the entire ride home.  I thought it was cute until I realized that now this dog is going to expect to ride shotgun for the rest of his life. 

I know I have lamented that my Kate Spade bag money went to fix the dent when someone hit my car in the parking lot at work. . . not that I stopped buying yarn in order to have enough money for the bag.  I did get a bag at Talbot's, but I haven't ever used it.  After seeing the cute L.A.M.B. bag on Heather's blog, I decided that I'd check them out this weekend.  I was undecided between L.A.M.B. and a Coach bag, and the first store I went to didn't have the Coach item that I was buying as a Christmas gift, so I went to the new, larger Coach store.  I found what I wanted, took it off the shelf while a salesperson just stood there and didn't even greet me, then got in line to pay for it.  Does this seem like outrageous behavior to you?  Well, I got loudly chastised by the store manager in front of everyone.  Apparently, the procedure in this store is now that you wait for the staff to ask if you want something, then they give you a piece of paper and bring the item to the register for you.  After the manager bitched me out, she opened a new register line and pointedly took the woman who was in line behind me even though I was next.  Then, when I got to a register, she came over to tell the cashier about how I had not followed procedure.  I've been carrying Coach (and wearing their shoes) for over 15 years now, but not any more. 

I went back to the first store and bought the L.A.M.B. bag.  The saleswoman there saw my Coach bag and said that she's heard some complaints about the new store.  Then she told me where I could find other Coach items that her store doesn't carry.  So, after all that, here's my lovely bag:

The bag is the Hella Hobo, and the fabric is called Lambi Cami.  I didn't notice that until I got home, but it's a nice fabric name for a knitter, is it not?  DH hasn't seen the bag yet (as I allegedly was out shopping for other people, not me. . . I may not be buying yarn, but old stash hiding habits die hard!).  The print is all the more fitting because I followed Stephanie's lead and visited Mountain Shadow Ranch, where I adopted a sheep.  Her name is Salia, and she's almost a year old.  Here she is:

She's a Cotswold .  She looks like she's wearing a Persian lamb coat, does she not?  This does not violate the terms of my YNBA because I haven't bought any yarn.  What I will get in one year's time is her fleece, partially processed.  If I want to get yarn, arrangements will be made to have that done before it's shipped to me.  And, no, I'm not tempted to learn to spin.

For those of you who dream of owning sheep, I was recently informed by a veterinarian from South America that llamas are very good shepherds.  Just think of it!  You could get two kinds of fiber!

Before I sign off, I wanted to thank Eva for the postcard she sent me.  Annie sent me a Christmas card from Kentucky that actually was made by a company about ten miles away from where I live (What are the chances?).  I lost, but just found the other day, a postcard from Marie.  I had a friend who was visiting France sent Marie a postcard from Paris while Secret Pal 2 was going on, but to this day I have forgotten to as Marie if she received it.

Breaking news:  J.K. Rowling has completed the sixth Harry Potter book!   Don't know when we'll see it, and I'm not telling DH because if I do he will ask me every day if I know when it's coming out.

Checking In

I slept through S'n'B again this morning.  I'm still sick, though with a new cold, and I've been sleeping a lot on the weekends and barely dragging myself through the week days.  TypePad ate the original of this post, which I just did not need to have happen today, but I'll try to remember what I wrote. . . I was mostly checking back in with updates on things from recent posts.

My memory does seem to be failing me, or at least I've noticed it more ever since I read about Mad Cow Disease.  I have thought of a way that I could get around the blood donation restriction -- I might be able to donate blood in another country, probably one where the Red Cross says they have Mad Cow problems.  I won't be able to donate four times a year like I used to, but I think it's worth looking into, just for the peace of mind it will give me.

Now that DH and I can't donate blood, chocolate dog is now too old, and the cats don't meet the requirements (Orange is too small and black & white has health issues.), so we're all going to have to live vicariously through yellow dog, our hero.  I got a call the other day to see if he could come in on Monday to donate, so I said yes.  Then I got a call to see if it would be okay if he was on TV, because a camera crew is going to visit the hospital to film a donation.  Of course I said yes -- this is a wonderful program and it should be publicized.  If you get Boston TV, you might see the yellow dog on the new Monday evening.  (I do not know what station/time or whether he'll definitely be on TV.)  *** Update: Photo shoot has been postponed (due to snow?) so no yellow dog on TV.***

I have found time to knit, and the yarn that I ordered so that I could finish the secret surprise item arrived.  It was the same lot as the yarn I already had, so I was very, very pleased that disaster was averted.  I'm knitting with Debbie Bliss Baby Alpaca Silk, which I love.  It's so soft and so warm.  I do usually use Blue Sky Alpaca Knitter's Helper on my hands before knitting with it, because it does tend to snag on rough, dry skin, or make your skin feel rough and dry in comparison.  I've had one skein with an incredible number of knots, but that seems to be an anomaly.  However, I have noticed that these skeins seem to completely fall apart for no reason.  Has this ever happened to any of you?  I even received one of the new skeins with a rubber band around it to keep it together.  It's frustrating to be knitting along, then look down and see that your skein has turned into a birds' nest.  Today I figured out how to combat that problem.  A Ziploc bag, unzipped enough to let each strand of yarn out, has been keeping my yarn untangled, contained, and safe from the elements.  As you can see, the gray skein is getting ready to explode, despite having been contained in this bag since I started using it.  Does anyone else have any novel ideas on how to combat this problem?  I'm happy with the Ziploc, but I'd be willing to try something else.

Finally, I wanted to respond to some comments about my hair.  I completely forgot (Mad Cow?) that when my hair gets long it gets heavy and gives me headaches, but Monica's comment jogged my memory.  I'm hoping that my hair will be long enough to cut for Locks of Love before I get to that point.  I also think that after I get it cut off I will give DH a say in what happens to my hair next.  He has lived with me through the worst of my hair disasters and has earned the right to have an opinion that I will seriously consider.  (Notice I did not say that I would absolutely do what he wants.)

Annette commented that her three year old son laughed when he saw the photo of me with the Mohawk, but she wanted to emphasize that he was not laughing *at* me.  I don't mind if he was.  Walking around with hair like that for years definitely exposed me to a wide variety of reactions.  My favorite was at the grocery store, right after I'd dyed my hair hot pink.   I was standing in the checkout line and there was a woman in her 60's in the next line over.  She burst out laughing when she saw my hair.  She had her hand over her mouth and was trying to compose herself when I looked at her.  She said, "I'm sorry, I can't help myself."  I smiled at her and said, "I can't either," and we both laughed.  I loved the honesty and pureness of her reaction.

Interestingly, I've had an exodus of people unsubscribing to the Bloglines feed for this blog ever since I posted that photo.  I don't know whether it was the photo or whether I'm just boring.  I hesitated before posting that photo, wondering what the reaction would be.  I'm not sorry I did it, though, and I appreciate all of you who have hung in there with me.

Dog Loves Yarn (Maybe)

What is that dog fondling?  Well, it's yarn, of course.  (From the left, Plush in Creme, then Suede in Wild Bill and Hopalong Cassidy.) I wanted to knit those Ugg Booties from Knitty Gritty, but I could only find the Suede yarn.  I looked online and in person at places that carried Berocco yarns, but no one had Plush in the Creme color.  So, I asked if anyone knew where I could buy it, and Monica offered to give me what she had left after knitting the booties and a matching hat.  Now I can knit both, thanks to Monica's generousity.  Not only is she on her YNBA, but she's actually getting rid of yarn from her stash!  (She was sorely tested today, though, so check out her post for a major willpower success -- go, girl!)  Thank you, Monica!

The funny thing is that I wouldn't be caught dead wearing Ugg boots.  (If you want to know why, see if you can find the photos of Marlon Brando wearing them shortly before he died.  That ought to cure the most ardent Ugg infatuation!)  But I've seen the knitted booties on a few blogs and I think they are so cute.  I'm going to make them for DS, and if I don't finish in time for him to wear them, I know someone who is having a baby in March who will just love them.

While on the subject of style, let me say to those of you who asked that yes, that is me in that photo from yesterday's post.  Honestly, that was my favorite haircut ever and I had some form of it or another for years.  Then I grew my hair out into this:

That's me at my going away party for a volunteer project I worked on, with a friend from the project.  About a year after this photo was taken, I got my hair cut shorter and layered (big mistake!) and that's about when I met DH.  He's never seen me with hair this long, but I'm working on it.  I'm hoping to let my hair grow long enough to donate it to Locks of Love.  Katy is doing it, too, and she's got quite a head start on me.  We didn't plan this.  She blogged about it one day and I was all excited because I don't know any other adults who are trying this.  It's mostly kids who donate hair.

Anyway, which hair do you prefer?

Monkey Off My Back

I am so glad to be done with this sweater.  I hated this pattern and don't think this sweater was well designed.  The shoulder and neck shaping were awful, just horribly designed.  If I had looked at the photo in the book more carefully before I started this project, I also would have noticed that the fronts of the sweater don't meet.  I don't like the way the button looks, either, but I have to say mine looks nicer than the one in the book.   I think I've complained enough about how much I hated all the crocheting of the trim.  Fortunately, there are other patterns in Rowan Babies that made the book worth purchasing, and I do like the Rowan Cork, so it's not a total loss.  I finished after DD went to bed, so no photo of her wearing it.  She did run around in it while I was still working on it, and she kept telling me she had a first date tonight. . . where she got that, I don't know.

Here's a shot of the Fandango scarf.  It's hard to see exactly how long it is, but it's more than half done.  This yarn is so luxurious and the color is so beautiful.  I can't wait to wear this.  The Fandango is a bit hard on the hands if I knit too long with it, so this is going to remain my pickup project.  I've been working on it while riding in the car, when I only have a few minutes to knit, and while at hockey games.  We have two games this weekend, so it will be longer by Monday.  I don't mind putting this down, because I know I'll pick it up and knit a few rows here and there, and it will never go from WIP to UFO.

So, what's next on my needles?  Here's a list, in no particular order:

1.  Broadripple Socks in Cascade Fixation from Kate 

2.  Opptuna from Cornelia Tuttle Hamilton Noro book, in Silk Garden, for DS

3.  Audrey from Rowan 35(?)

4.  Charlotte's Web

5.  socks, something for the kids, something out of my stash, that's for sure!

Freaky Mom

I saw this on Stephanie's blog today and had to try it myself:

You're a punk rock mommy! DIY is probably your
motto, because you're a punk mama at heart.
Your kids are getting your independent spirit
and guts, and learning to solve problems
themselves. You love it when they show their
independence, even when it's breaking your
heart.

What kind of a freaky mother are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

So, do you think it's accurate?