Friday, September 30, 2005
What to Wear?
The Yarn Harlot is coming to Chicago tomorrow. To Arcadia knitting where I still have about $50 left of a gift certificate. Lorna's Laces AND Stephanie Pearl-McPhee!!! I'm totally taking both of my books to get signed. :-D
The only question is, "my God, what to WEAR????" It's going to be cool and fall-esque on the way out there. But probably darn warm in the shop. Should I take the newly finished Clapotis?
Maybe with sandals and the Hall of Fame socks. :-D
Yeahhhh...
Tee-hee! So exciting!
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
A glut o' yarn
A friend of mine who is a pastor warned me that one of the downsides of ministy is that your Christmas fervor peaks right around the middle of October. That's when all the planning is being done for all those wonderful Christmas-y and Advent events. If you know what you're doing, that is.
While she sees this as a detriment, a bummer, if you will. I think it's an emotion to be grasped and cherished. Why? Cause it gets you thinking about Christmas knitting before Thanksgiving. And only the very speediest of us can make worthy Christmas presents in less than a month.
My Christmas Yarn arrived today. Well, 3/4's of it did.
This was not intended to be Christmas Yarn. It originally was intended as a Mariah for me. Don't know if that's still in the works. It may become a shawl for someone. A. BIG. SHAWL.
How can natural lighting produce such piss-poor color? See my knee in the lower left corner? My jeans are a dark DARK blackish blue. Not that heathery purple you see. Likewise, the blue yarn is a brilliant teal and the green a much more spring yellow green. This is also yarn for the kids' Christmas gifts. I know what those are, but since Geana reads a lot, I'm not going to reveal just what they are...yet. :-)
Prospects are looking up in the yarn world.
Thursday: Whatever happened to the Antichrist?
Friday, September 23, 2005
Wedding Planning Blues..or My Attempts to Avoid Bridezilla Status
I've spent the past two days getting all the ducks in a row to visit various reception halls, photographers, florists, and even a bridal salon or three all on my October "break" (we'll see what breaks first, the month of October or my spirit). I have some fun tips for those of you out there in the wedding biz.
1. Don't hang up in the middle of a bride's question. EVER. I called one reception hall today, and once the woman got my name, phone number, and an appointment set up. I got out the words, "I have one quick question, how many people does your 'decadence' room...[CLICK]." Like a severe click. An "I really don't care that you could spend $7,000 as my place of business" click.
2. Do not smash the bride's hopes to pieces. When the bride says she wants THIS has her main flower,
and that this color is the inspiration for the colors of her wedding, that she has had this color of this flower picked out for 12 years, DO NOT say, "well, that's tricky because we won't know what color of hydrangeas we'll get until we get the actual shipment we'll use for your wedding." The Bride will not say oh, well let's do something else. How bout carnations? The Bride will say, "Screw you. I'm going to call some wholesale florists. My desired arrangements are fairly simple. I can get a bunch of aunts to do that and stick em in the church fridge. If a wholesale florist can't get em, I've got 18 months! I can grow a damn bush! Get the soil at just the right acidity to give me the blue flowers that have been my dream since MIDDLE SCHOOL. If you're making the bride cry a year and a half before the wedding, she's going to expect that for the next 18 months, thank you very much. Never tell a bride her color scheme could change days before the wedding from the blue she's always wanted to... well...
[Oh my God, I'm turning into one of THOSE brides. Ok, maybe not yet.]
3. When the Bride calls to set up an appointment to meet with you, don't go OUT OF YOUR WAY to discourage her from doing so. She now thinks that you've had some really bad reviews, experiences, or are just plain high-maintenance. "Well, if you're not serious about hiring us, don't waste OUR time (and yours too) coming to sit down with us to look over our book. We cost $X000 and we don't negotiate at all. So if you're not interested or can't live with that price, you'd best look somewhere else" is NOT a good line to lay on the Bride. Am I going to have to worry about your hangups on the day of the wedding when I've already got so many of MY OWN scheduled for that day?
Sheesh. I tell ya.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
When did THAT happen?
Yesterday, the knitting future looked bleak. Sure, I possibly might have had pictures of a deformed Clapotis for you today, but after that, I was concerned that I'd have nothing to write about.
Man was I wrong! In the afternoon, I got about 5 different ideas for today's post. Five! I'm not going to cram them all into one as I am wont to do (I love that word). They can be spaced out several days.
I'll start with the most timely. Yesterday afternoon at about 5 PM, I got a phone call from the Office of Student Affairs. "Hi, are you still planning on going to the ballgame?" "What game?" "The Whitesox game." "I wasn't planning on going to a baseball game tonight." I had homework to do. The Fiancee being here this weekend took away from study time as did a bit of drama with the New Roommate (unenthused group of angels singing offkey) and the dog. "What game is this again?" "It's the Stitch 'N Pitch game."
Oh! Well! That's a horse of a different color all together! Yeah yeah, sure! I'll go! "Ok, well, we're leaving in like an hour." Okey doke!
Two hours later. I found myself in the bleachers. A prime target for a homerun hit towards left field. But hey, they probably picked this section for us because the lighting was very very good.
This was just the two rows I could get by lifting my camera way above my head. There were several rows of knitters behind us, as well as a large section in front of us. While you couldn't see much overt knitting from a distance, you could tell who the knitters were when something exciting happened.
The knitters were loathe to get up when something exciting happened and the first ones to sit down. The Sox need to really play this thing up. I have to say that I was kinda disappointed. It was like we were a big church group. The Church of the Holy Sheep Shearer. There were also two guys who were heckling the knitters. I know! Blasphemer! "I guess the Sox are desperate to sell group tickets. I bet most of these women don't know who's up to bat." Therefore, I relished it when one of them who was mercilessly flirting with the knitter next to him looked at the scoreboard and said, "There's already one out? How did I miss that?" I got to turn around and say, "Crisp hit a foul-pop that the catcher caught. You guys are getting blinded by the knitting. You need to get focused on the GAME, MAN! This is a KEY GAME!"
So what did I knit? It was a Sox game. I had to knit Sox.
Now that I am free FREE of the Clapotis I am free to pursue the object of my lust...the trekking XXL cabled socks. I turned the heal and am ready to start the instep. Whoo-hoo!
What would a good next BIG project be? Hmm...
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
I feel like I should say something
But the truth is, there's not much going on around here recently. I mean knitting wise. In non-knitting news, stuff abounds. I'm preaching next Sunday, classes are exciting, the Fiancee was here last weekend. So, yeah, things are quickly speeding along. My bloglines sites each have 4 or 5 entries to read. Senior year starts with avengeance.
Clapotis has been my main focus over the past two weeks.
The progress as of this morning is troubling to say the least.
I'm almost four repeats into the decrease section. You can tell from the ball of yarn that...you guessed it. I'm running the hell out. Considering this is Lorna's Laces Lion and Lamb, another skein of yarn is going to be the following things.
1. Hella expensive.
2. Likely to not match the current dye lot that I'm using.
3. Going to take months, MONTHS to get here.
Yeah, I'm not going to put up with that. Don't know what I'm going to do, but I gotta figure something out fast. I say fast because I've discovered that Calvin seems to think that all the balls of yarn that are in my knitting basket are de facto toys. He's got good taste, as the Lion and Lamb has become a favorite. Maybe it's because it's dangling around my feet so much lately. The sooner it gets all used up in a knitted garment the better.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Ugh.
I had a student today who connected the Katrina disaster to "the wickedness of Mardi Gras." "You know, I think of Sodom and Gomorrah, and then I think of New Orleans. You know, one was fire, one was water, but it's still the same. I'm just looking to what good can come from it." Yeah, hundreds of years of rich and diverse culture is going to repent for its years of wrong doing. I wanted to leap across the room and strangle him. I left Pittsburgh and those I love...for this. Ugh. Just...ugh.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
And a Washcloth
Yeah, I'm full of finished projects. We celebrate every little success here at the Stitchin Seminarian.
There you go, Fiancee. Happy impending anniversary. :-) I said I wanted to give you something hand made. Well, there she is. Malformed, yet functional. Go do the dishes.
Calvin gives his enthusiastic seal of approval.
Go, Calvin.
Friday, September 9, 2005
News Flash!
Late breaking news into the blog this afternoon. I took the opportunity of the Roommate (angel chorus) taking the dog with her to do laundry to finish up the final seaming on the Huge Potato Sack. However, sources close to my chest area tell me to stop calling the sweater that because...
it's actually quite snug. (click on the above picture for a big pop-up)
More proof of snuggliness.
Well, at least on me it's kinda clingy. I like it.
Specs: The Harry Potter Sweater kit from the Yarn Warehouse in burgundy. I got the largest size kitbut would recommend getting maybe two of the smaller sizes. I needed a little over an extra ball and the Warehouse doesn't sell this yarn in individual balls. I modified the H pattern given to an M. Not really that hard at all. The yarn's pretty scratchy, but wearing a t-shirt under it helps. I knit the largest size (they're only sized for children) and I think it worked out pretty well. I stopped the sleeves about 10 cm. before it said to. They're a little cropped, but not too bad. I also didn't increase all the way on the sleeves. I'm glad because they feel absolutely balloonish up towards the shoulders.
Things I learned: My first try at intarsia. I learned by the middle of the M how to ease the tension when you're floating the yarn across the pattern. I learned many stitches for seaming and how to sew on sleeves.
Overall, I'm happy with it. Don't know how much wear it will get, certainly to the 4th movie when it comes out. :-)
Now, what next?
Nuttin
I can roll my tongue, can you?
Dog got a haircut. I went shopping instead of seaming. It's like broccoli. I'm going to embrace every other option before I have to eat the broccoli.
Thursday, September 8, 2005
Seamingly ENDLESS
I've been seaming up the Huge Potato Sack for over a week now. (btw: Not as huge as I thought)Since I got to Chicago, maybe before. It just goes ON AND ON AND ON. Stitch after stitch of kitchener stitch. Granted, there are some issues. The HPS is no longer portable. I fear losing the crucial darning needle that I'm using. I'm down to little bits of yarn that could blow away effortlessly in the wind. Plus it's a BIG LUMPY SWEATER. Not one I can tote to class too easily. I'm hopeful, though. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. The dog's going to get groomed today, so far away that I'm going to have to sit there and watch. So I'll take it along, see what can get done.
In other blog-related news, my big camera card just blew up. I don't know what the problem is, but the camera just won't read it anymore, no matter how many times I format it. All the pictures that were on it are lost. Not too much important stuff that I know of, fortunately. But now I'm stuck using the little camera card which only holds 36 pictures or so. This can be seen as a positive because then there's less to lose should something else go wrong.
The other upside is that you can be surprised by the stuff you've forgotten you've photographed. Kinda like turning in one of those disposable cameras you find shoved in a drawer and find your 13th birthday party sleepover pictures. Here's some stuff I mined from the small card that I didn't know I had. I call this piece...My Men: a Study of Hibernation.
Monday, September 5, 2005
Latest Addition
School starts tomorrow. Classes. Blech. I've been spending the week unpacking, getting books, seaming the Huge Potato Sack which looks like it will live up to its name.
When I was four, we adopted a dog from the Humane Society. She was a fawn colored puppy with a tip of white on her tail and white paws. We named her Tippy (some in the family spell it Tippie, I have no idea, I couldn't read). Tippy had a problem, however. She came to us in the cold of winter, trained to go on paper. Mom and dad tried in vain to make her go outside, but there was once when she stood outside for half an hour and did nothing, came right back in and peed all over the newspaper. Mom and Dad weren't happy. After a short period of time (I have no idea how long, but it was short), Tippy went back to the Humane Society.
We moved to a house with a bigger yard. There was a series of goldfish, then hamsters until finally someone (probably Dad) decided it was time to try the dog thing again. This time we wouldn't make the mistake of Pound Puppy. Instead, we went whole hog and bought ourselves an English Bulldog...name Princess. Princess. We were cruel like that. A sick sense of humor permeates our family.
At only three years old, Princess was beginning to show signs of age. She started to have arthritic hips and back, but we loved her and it's no reason to get rid of a dog. I think I was around 11, my brother 14. We were at that critical age when our parents were starting to leave us home alone, Kurt to "watch" me. That meant we'd order pizza and he'd talk on the phone with whatever crush he had at the time, me being a little bit wary of being the big dark house with no sounds but the adolescent prattling in the living room. We didn't have to answer the phone (which was a responsibility entirely left to Kurt as circumstances had it), were never to answer the door after dark, and not to worry about putting Princess in the laundry room at night.
So, imagine my shock one Saturday morning when I woke up and discovered that Princess was chained up outside, it was 9 AM and no one was up but Kurt, a real rarity. "Where are Mom and Dad?" "They're still sleeping. They were at the hospital til about 3 AM." "!!!???" "Princess attacked Mom and tore her hand off!" "!!!???" Thanks for the trauma, dear Brother. Princess had, in fact, attacked Mom late that night. When Mom and Dad had come back from wherever they were, Mom had attempted to put Princess away for the night. We had had a leash on her for when the pizza came, but never took it off. She had fallen asleep in the dining room on top of it. Mom tried to get her to bed by getting a hold of the leash. Princess was startled, and the arthritis probably made the jolt that much more painful and terrifying. So Princess lunged at the supposed attacker (Mom), bit her in the thigh, Mom kneed her down, and Princess lunged again, this time getting her hand and not letting go. Let this be a lesson kids, never bite the hand that feeds you. Sorry, needed to inject some humor. Ten stitches and 3 days later, the 'rents decided that they needed to put Princess down. They were afraid that the arthritis was awakening something in her, something that I guess they saw in her father when we picked her up from the breeder, and it was making her more defensive. A scared dog in pain is no animal to have around children who are just starting to stay home by themselves.
Princess and Tippy did not last long in terms of family dogs. Thankfully, my parents didn't give up on dogs. They didn't consider themselves cursed. A couple of days later, we got Snowy, our first Bichon, from a breeder. Two years later, we decided to become breeders ourselves and Snowy had a litter of 8 puppies. We marked each head with permanent marker to tell them apart (8 puppies, 8 colors in a box of Crayola markers). Don't know why, but we decided to keep the purple one and name him Dreyfus, after the investment corporation. Again, that sick sense of humor. The dogs were born on the night before Dad had a big meeting in New York to save the deal that would merge Dreyfus with Mellon Bank...or something. Anyway, he got little to no sleep 'cause of these damn puppies, so we had to name ours accordingly. I think I was 13 at that point. Dreyfus and Snowy are both still with my parents, making them the oldest dogs BY FAR that the family has ever owned. I'm 25, so that would make Snowy 14 and Dreyfus 12.
Both dogs have their faults. Snowy is a bit of a needy prom queen...there is no such thing as enough petting and DAMNIT I will scratch open the veins on the back of your hand to get you to start again! I don't care if you're groggy from the wisdom tooth pain killer! Dreyfus...well, Dreyfus has many problems. While he is the Awhnold of Bichons (all muscle), he's been overweight all his life, leaving him with diabetes and an inability to get up most steps. He has also never been fully house-trained, whether out of laziness, spite or sheer stupidity, we don't know. But where Snowy is needy and mischievious, Dreyfus is a loveable dumb ox. He groans when you scratch his ears. I mean GROOOOAAANS like someone on a masseur's table. He does a fake sneeze when he wants something, and never asks for more petting when you've decided you're done. He's unconditionally loving, yet shows his anger by pooping under the piano when you're not looking.
So when the NEW ROOMMATE (insert angel chorus) wanted to get a dog at the local animal shelter, I thought, why not. It'll never be as good as a Bichon, you can't get those at the animal shelter. Maybe there will be a nice old terrier there that will run a close second for a year.
Well, things didn't quite goes as I'd planned.
Meet Calvin, the newest addition to the Seminarian Line of Dogs. He's named after this guy, the French theologian to started the Reformed branch of Protestant churches (of which I'm a member.) The dog's french at a Presbyterian seminary...it fit too well. Plus, we were pre-destined to have him. He's a two year old Bichon (in case you didn't know) that the shelter picked up as a stray. He had just come up for adoption on Saturday. He didn't even have a full run yet, just a wire cage in the hallway with some newspaper. As soon as we were through the door, I said, "Oh. Roomie*. I think I'm sold." We looked at all the other ones as a courtesy, but once we got him into the get aquainted room, we were putty. The New Roomate (angel chorus) said, "I'll leave here without you before I leave here without him." He must have seen us coming and said, "suckers." He is so loving, he can't let one of us leave his sight without following, at least for a few steps. He knows how to fetch and even to sit, so we know that he was somebody's before he was a stray.
I make no promises as to when the Huge Potato Sack will be finished, I've been a bit distracted lately. Wouldn't you be?
__
*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.
I believe that was my first asterisk in an entry. Yay, me.
Thursday, September 1, 2005
The Pieces...
...are finally falling into place! The camera got delievered in the mail this morning! The computer guy came and set up my internet! Life can finally begin!
So, all I gotta say is, this may very well be my next project:
Because THIS!!! is what The Boyfriend managed to pull out of his pocket on Friday at lunch. :-D
The stones are all from rings that once belonged to my grandmother, the biggie and the baguettes from what I think was a 30th anniversary ring and the little teeny round ones are from her actual engagement ring. Nyawwwwh.
Therefore, The Boyfriend has been upgraded to The Fiancee. That is all. Thanks for waiting. I'm going to go glow in the other room now.
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