Sunday, February 22, 2009

Mending Bruised Hearts and Egos

Well, yet another possible boyfriend has been kicked to the curb. I did explain that I would not tolerate game playing. I also warned him that I'm smart enough to know that 2+2=4 not 8. The load of BS really was unbelievable. I surprised he thought anyone would buy it. When called on it he said "his life is complicated, you wouldn't understand." Well, unless you felt like telling me what was up, no, I could not possibly understand with no information. The fact that he couldn't/wouldn't speaks clearly if you ask me.

So my ego and heart were a little bruised. And my best friends came to the rescue. They swarmmed armed with 3 qts of Ben & Jerry's, a bunch of movies, and girl talk/ men bashing, chocolate and fiber. Who could ask for more wonderful friends?

Valentine's gifts at Knit Night, a "Yarn & Fiber Tasting" and tea and hugs. Encouragement, books lent, and patterns given.

So the guy didn't work out. There will be others, no doubt. But I am not alone, I have friends who care, understand and support. They share their stories, thoughts and fears. And best of all?

They totally get the fiber thing!

Love you girls.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Harry the Hank

It's a ...




Nope! It's Harry the Hank! Da ta da ta!

Meet Harry the hank. My first attempt at spinning and then PLYING yarn. Plying yarn is trickier than it sounds. I'm going to have to work on that. I know it doesn't look like much, but heh, it's my first attempt. Harry is un-dyed and naturally processed. He is very eco-friendly and is made from local blue faced wool (type of sheep I think) and Alpaca (type of cuddley camel). It's impossible to show detail in picture, but harry is actually brown and grey plyed together.

Yes, I know he's small, but he is enough for a coffee cup cosy. However, think that Harry will be staying as a hank, simply because I'm so proud of him, and he is kind of cute. The cat also thinks he's cute, and that could be a problem. We'll see.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

I am proud to be a "Townie!"

So, I now live in a small town in northern Virginia, not to be confused with "Northern Virginia." I did not always live here. I grew up in a large metropolis in beautiful sunny southern California. Yup, you read that correctly, I moved here willingly. I thought it would be a nice change of pace, that it would let me explore my "granola" side a bit more. I thought I had moved to the country (I also thought I moved to New England), it was explained to me that this wasn't the country.

In fact, we are a fairly large city with a Costco and TWO Super WalMarts! "Okay." I said with a giggle, this is a city?! "No, we are not city folk here. We are not counrty bumpkins, either. We are townies. " My wonderful, patient friend explained. What is a townie? Tonight I got to see first hand and am thankful for the experience.

(After reading this next part, my father is going to promptly call me up, and rightfully so, chew my butt off)

My lovely American-made 4-wheel drive SUV decided that it was time to remind me that I have obligations to my vehicle. Like my cat, I feed it and pet it (wash), but I also need to take it in to get a check up on occassion. You know, things like check the oil and other fluids in the car. You see, this car came with me from the west coast, and hasn't really been adjusted to this climate, like myself.

So today and tonight, it kept shifting on the fly into 4 wheel drive. The light wouldblink at me, saying"you need more traction!" I was sitting in park in a parking lot. The light continued to blink at me, mocking me. I saw my tax refund flying out the window as I tried to figure out how I was going to drive to work in the morning for 45 miles in 4x4. The light blinked more.

My wonderful patient friend was with me discussing a very important move in her life, and I was completely fixated on the blinking light. I couldn't hear a word she said. I couldn't see anything else.

Just the light.



Crap. My friend then offered to follow me home and push my car if it needed it with hers. Give me a lift and the number of Boyce, the best mechanic in the valley. I get a slight thought flittering through my head as drive. I haven't had the oil changed since LAST YEAR! Which was the last time the fluids were checked at best. (go ahead daddy, I deserve it) I pull into the gas station by my house, explain the situation to my friend and pop the hood.

I look for the correct dip stick and discover: 1. I'm out of coolant/antifreeze (not good this time of year) 2. out washer fluid (that would help get the salt off the windsheild) 3. Out of Transmission fluid (I am praying I didn't do major damage) 4. the brake fluid, fortunately was full. I didn't check the oil.

Here is where living in a small town is great. I go inside to get an assortment of fluids, having no idea that there are different types, and before I can blink, have multiple men from 18 to 80 handing me the correct fluids and then, once paid for, putting them in my car. It is 23 degrees F outside right now with a bitter wind and there were 4 men who didn't know each other or me helping me out. And yes, one did make me promise to take the car in tomorrow and get it looked over.

They closed the hood, gave me smiles and waves and were off about their own business. I get in the car and turn it on. I shift through each gear like they told me to do. Waiting at least 3-5 seconds in each one before shifting again. I am holding my breath. The light stays off. It stays in 2 wheel drive.

I don't want to jinx myself, but I will say, it had to help the issue. I will take it in tomorrow like I promised. I should have gotten their names and addresses to send them all thank you notes and mittens. Now I can use my refund for that Malabrigo sock yarn.

I love townies.