Archive for January, 2013


January 30, 2013

I am a terribly easy person to suggest something to.  Got an idea that you want written up into a fanfic?  Let me think about it because I could probably make that work.  Got a class you want someone to go with?  Sure, if I’m free.  (For someone with kids and a full-time job, I am really free.  Maybe the kids and the job are the reason I’m so easy.)  If I see something someone else has knitted, I’m all over trying to figure out if I want to knit it.  But, darn it, I have limits!  I totally do!

Last night, I knitted a pair of baby mitts for a friend of mine who is about to have a baby.  I picked them because they’re easy and fast and super cute and I can use up some bits and ends of yarn.  I show them to W.


W:  That’s really sweet.  You making a hat to go with that?

Me:  No, way.  Will take too much time.  (Haven’t thought about it.  Don’t want to do it.  Picked mitts because I didn’t want to do the hat.)

W:  When’s the baby due?

Me:  Two weeks.

W:  Hmm.  You can do it.  A hat.  How hard can that be?  You’re a pretty fast knitter.

Me:  No.  (For good reasons, our kids want hats and get all sad if my product doesn’t immediately go on their little bodies, I don’t know if the little bit of yarn I have is enough, all my other yarn is wrong for this product…)


And this morning:


Well, damn.



January 29, 2013

So cold here last week that when the little bit of half-dried laundry got left in the drier, it froze.  That’s right.  Frozen.

The other thing happening here is knitting.  A fair amount.  Nothing complicated, as I’m not very good, but still.  It’s happening.

I am full of feelings about knitting.  A lot of it is happiness – I really enjoy it.  I didn’t know what to expect when I took that class last year, but happiness was not it.  Maybe I would have been okay with contentment.  I was taught knitting when I was a kid, by my grandmother.  She basically used me like a machine – she would cast on, give the item to me, and I’d knit until she thought there was enough and then she’d do everything else – the bind off, the shaping, changing colors, buttonholes.  I just knit on straight needles, back and forth.  So I left knitting behind, for something close to 25 years, with a brief foray into afghan knitting that failed miserably.  Then a friend’s sister was teaching a class and another friend of mine wanted to take it, but there needed to be a minimum number of people and so I joined.

And the knitting came back – but I was determined to do thing differently.  Learn how to make stuff I could use.  Learn different ways of knitting.

So now I have made a couple of things.  And I am emotional about them, but not possessive, if you know what I mean.  Rethinking the process has made me a crazy person.  I have found that it is really, really hard for me to get gauge.  It drives me crazy.  I have learned how to knit continental, re-learned English knitting, figured out Irish cottage/lever knitting and none of these things ever gets me gauge.  I have gone up and down on needles.  I try different yarn.  It’s maddening.  Swatches are all over the place.

And should I ever get gauge, then the hats I make (following the pattern very carefully) are huge.  How is it that a hat that supposedly is 18 inches in circumference looks like a bucket on the head of somebody who has a 23 inch head?  The hat doesn’t even stretch – it’s just hanging there.  I think there’s a conspiracy in the hat-pattern world.  They like big hats, and they cannot lie.  (Even though gauge apparently does.)  I’ve had to re-knit most of the hats to sizes down to “toddler” for me.  That’s crazy.  It’s not like I want a tight hat – I just want a hat that FITS.

Still, I am very fond of knitting.  I have made a sock, successfully, but it does not have very tight or good gauge – but the sucker fits.  (We’ll see what happens when that guy gets washed.)

Tell me of your knitting and how you do it, because it must be better than mine.


January 15, 2013

I like to listen to podcasts.  Especially comedy podcasts.  They’re great for when I’m knitting or cooking or doing a little housework.  I like the voices, the different viewpoints, the surprise of guests, the whole thing.  I like not being distracted by the picture, like I would be with television.  Plus, I can carry the thing around from room to room if I need to.

And if I like the speaker/guest I will go see if they’ve got stuff on the Internet.  Often, I’m really surprised when I actually see what the speaker looks like.  Just the reality of that person – the individual characteristics of hair and face aren’t usually what I picture.  Because I think the voices give a clue as to what the person looks like, a clue that is often false.   The off-set in my head was a weird thing.

Then I realized what it is that I do.  If I like what the person is saying, and I think it’s funny or deep or interesting, I imagine the speaker is really attractive, man or woman.  (To me.  Other things could vary.)

When I said this to W, he looked at me and just *twinkled* – like I had give him the compliment.

Note to all Mothers and mothers-in-law

January 14, 2013

If you’re interested in giving a metallic slinky and several wind-up toys for Christmas, please give a heads-up to your daughter/daughter-in-law to not pack them in her carry-on.  Tell her, and feel free to quote me, “That shit looks like bomb parts in airport security.”

Remind her how they will stop her and empty out her bag, digging out the kids’ toiletries, toothpastes, books, pens and pencils, feminine hygiene supplies, her bundle of knitting and wooden knitting needles and the incredible excess of yarn due to her pathological fear of being left without anything to do in the airport, down to every dirty tissue until they find the slinky box and then comment, “I haven’t seen one of these in years.”

Ask me how I know.