spaazliciousThursday, April 01, 2004
Lots o' things to blog blather...
Knitting
I recently ripped my Map of the World afghan all the way back to the balls and started over. I had only 25% of the first panel done so it was no big tragedy, and I'm almost back to where I was when I ripped it.
I had been knitting it on 14" Swallow casein straights, but when I finished a row it'd be all bunched up and not much fun to look at...and the stitches would fly right off if you just looked at it funny. So I'm enjoying knitting it from the beginning after letting the project languish for seven months on the sweet relief of a circular.
I think I've been pretty spoiled with my yarn choices, as this Tahki Donegal Tweed feels pretty overspun and is rough on the hands--but on the other hand, that means a really durable end product not prone to pilling, and I know the colourwork will be fairly consistent as long as I am. My first colourwork was done with Classic Elite's Bazic Wool, a superwash wool that was slippery as hell, so between my inexperience and the slidiness of the wool worming its way about, the finished piece looks...experimental.
I'm too ashamed to show it. ;)
Who knows, I may rip it too and do it all over again...maybe I'll never knit more than six projects in my life, but by gum, I'll keep knitting 'em 'til they're right!
Other Stuff
We're finally back in our own home, sweet, sweet relief that that is...it may be squalorous, but it's our squalor and we love it.
Staying out at my Dad's interesting. I have a Jetta TDI (VW's diesel engine) so I'm not used to having to fill up very often, but staying out there I had to fill up every week (about 630 miles before the fuel light comes on for me) and I found myself getting a wee bit indignant about fuel prices...I finally am starting to feel like a San Diegan again ;)
What's up with San Diegans and the tailgating though? Anybody know of a short and pithy way to say "Back the f-ck off motherf-cker because if you f-ckin' hit me and hurt my dogs I will not hesitate to beat your f-cking tailgating @ss to death!" so I can put it on a bumper sticker?
It can go right under my "Ganesha loves you" sticker.
It wasn't really that bad though, just the commute. Having a highway patrolman for a husband makes one acutely aware of the drunk driving and inattentive driving issues here in San Diego, and a two lane highway can be a nerve-wracking place.
But there were hummingbirds, hawks, orioles, and really interesting insects like scorpions, camel spiders, and this gorgeous guy:
and a close-up so you can see his supercool red and white stripes:
Of course you can't tell scale from the pic, but his wingspan was about four inches.
We ended up needing to stay out there longer than expected because my Grandmother fell asleep, couldn't be awakened, and died three days later. It's such a relief that she can now be with my Grandfather (if that's what happens when good people die, I don't know) and is no longer suffering all that horrible pain and humiliation.
We may end up missing the funeral though, because we have the family's dramaqueen in charge of funeral arrangements and it sounds like she's dead set on scheduling it smack in the middle of our Oaxaca and Chiapas trip. I know Grammy would be pissed if we missed the trip--I was really looking forward to showing her pictures of our trip, she loved Mexico--but I do want to go and meet some of the people who meant so much to her and hear some stories and celebrate her life and all that. I am the youngest of four grandchildren by eleven years, and by the time I came along, that side of the family wasn't really interested in family things, so I'm a relative stranger. Here's a creepy anecdote: at a family gathering about three or four years ago, someone came up to my brother, "Hey! Denny! Hi! How are you? And is this your wife?" And turned to shake my hand. It was kind of a surreal moment to explain that I was not the wife of my brother, merely his sister.
I do know some things, some fun stories, but I don't really know my family. I mentioned before that my grandmother was in Spain in the late thirties, but she also dabbled in a little bit of bullfighting down in Mexico. She was gored, but it's a good story anyway.
She had a great life, lots of traveling, and lots of good friends. She was able to stay in her own home until the end and be cared for by family, we should all be so lucky.
[although I would request not so much pain and humiliation at the end, but I'm hoping a right to euthanasia law will be around when I come to that point]
[and I also request that if reincarnation is what happens that Nick and I be reincarnated as sea turtles]
A "baby" sea turtle from the Isla Mujeres Tortugranja (or "turtle farm," it's a turtle refuge where they raise them, and when they're big enough, release them)
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I recently ripped my Map of the World afghan all the way back to the balls and started over. I had only 25% of the first panel done so it was no big tragedy, and I'm almost back to where I was when I ripped it.
I had been knitting it on 14" Swallow casein straights, but when I finished a row it'd be all bunched up and not much fun to look at...and the stitches would fly right off if you just looked at it funny. So I'm enjoying knitting it from the beginning after letting the project languish for seven months on the sweet relief of a circular.
I think I've been pretty spoiled with my yarn choices, as this Tahki Donegal Tweed feels pretty overspun and is rough on the hands--but on the other hand, that means a really durable end product not prone to pilling, and I know the colourwork will be fairly consistent as long as I am. My first colourwork was done with Classic Elite's Bazic Wool, a superwash wool that was slippery as hell, so between my inexperience and the slidiness of the wool worming its way about, the finished piece looks...experimental.
I'm too ashamed to show it. ;)
Who knows, I may rip it too and do it all over again...maybe I'll never knit more than six projects in my life, but by gum, I'll keep knitting 'em 'til they're right!
Other Stuff
We're finally back in our own home, sweet, sweet relief that that is...it may be squalorous, but it's our squalor and we love it.
Staying out at my Dad's interesting. I have a Jetta TDI (VW's diesel engine) so I'm not used to having to fill up very often, but staying out there I had to fill up every week (about 630 miles before the fuel light comes on for me) and I found myself getting a wee bit indignant about fuel prices...I finally am starting to feel like a San Diegan again ;)
What's up with San Diegans and the tailgating though? Anybody know of a short and pithy way to say "Back the f-ck off motherf-cker because if you f-ckin' hit me and hurt my dogs I will not hesitate to beat your f-cking tailgating @ss to death!" so I can put it on a bumper sticker?
It can go right under my "Ganesha loves you" sticker.
It wasn't really that bad though, just the commute. Having a highway patrolman for a husband makes one acutely aware of the drunk driving and inattentive driving issues here in San Diego, and a two lane highway can be a nerve-wracking place.
But there were hummingbirds, hawks, orioles, and really interesting insects like scorpions, camel spiders, and this gorgeous guy:
and a close-up so you can see his supercool red and white stripes:
Of course you can't tell scale from the pic, but his wingspan was about four inches.
We ended up needing to stay out there longer than expected because my Grandmother fell asleep, couldn't be awakened, and died three days later. It's such a relief that she can now be with my Grandfather (if that's what happens when good people die, I don't know) and is no longer suffering all that horrible pain and humiliation.
We may end up missing the funeral though, because we have the family's dramaqueen in charge of funeral arrangements and it sounds like she's dead set on scheduling it smack in the middle of our Oaxaca and Chiapas trip. I know Grammy would be pissed if we missed the trip--I was really looking forward to showing her pictures of our trip, she loved Mexico--but I do want to go and meet some of the people who meant so much to her and hear some stories and celebrate her life and all that. I am the youngest of four grandchildren by eleven years, and by the time I came along, that side of the family wasn't really interested in family things, so I'm a relative stranger. Here's a creepy anecdote: at a family gathering about three or four years ago, someone came up to my brother, "Hey! Denny! Hi! How are you? And is this your wife?" And turned to shake my hand. It was kind of a surreal moment to explain that I was not the wife of my brother, merely his sister.
I do know some things, some fun stories, but I don't really know my family. I mentioned before that my grandmother was in Spain in the late thirties, but she also dabbled in a little bit of bullfighting down in Mexico. She was gored, but it's a good story anyway.
She had a great life, lots of traveling, and lots of good friends. She was able to stay in her own home until the end and be cared for by family, we should all be so lucky.
[although I would request not so much pain and humiliation at the end, but I'm hoping a right to euthanasia law will be around when I come to that point]
[and I also request that if reincarnation is what happens that Nick and I be reincarnated as sea turtles]
A "baby" sea turtle from the Isla Mujeres Tortugranja (or "turtle farm," it's a turtle refuge where they raise them, and when they're big enough, release them)
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