Memo for next 3 day weekend

For any future three day weekends I have, no guests unless they have their own lodging or are willing to do something of mutual interest. The weekend started okay with weeding and an art festival that got cut a bit short.

It then turned to hell in a hand basket. With a side of torture and a helping of becoming a social outcast.

It got better when I did finally get to escape my "house guests" and attend a friend's bbq where I could knit, cry, knit, act goofy, laugh, knit and actually be accepted and loved for being myself. It didn't hurt that my friends, upon hearing the drama, determined that I was normal and being nice and considerate and the other party needs extensive therapy.

God, I love my friends!

So, some worlds I have been forbidden to walk in. Fortunately, I have my world. With knitting, chocolate, shoulders to cry on, hands to pull me up, and friends who are more dear to me than they will ever know.

My world ROCKS!

I give up.

On the Lace stole?

No.

The Albatross Sweater?

No.

Being a good little employee?

Yep!

The top two items have been driving me bananas for quite some time. And, truth be told, so has the third.

Here's the thing that is making me nuts. I have been painstakingly following the instructions on the patterns so that they will come out absolutely perfect for my sister. The Albatross is no longer going to be worn by her, but it will still go to a good home. After all, it's not mine or the sweater's fault that my sister lost weight and now looks like a skinny leggy super-model. Why punish the sweater? So it will go to a good home elsewhere.

The stole has a long time to be completed. Since I am currently only working on the prototype that I will be wearing, I am using it as a learning experience so when I do make her stole, I won't be screaming and cursing at it, thus imbuing it with negative vibes.

I'm being patient. I'm following the rules. These are good things correct? I should at least get a pat on the head, if not a cookie.

At my job, I pointed out some discrepancies between two reports. I didn't say anything, one way or another. Just let the boss know that perhaps things aren't adding up and he might want to keep an eye on things. He asked another employee why his report was so different from the system's.

The other employee basically threatened me. That I "better watch it." And that he was going to "mess with my shit." I should "fucking stay out of (his) business".

I relied the conversation and my ensuing concerns with my boss and he basically told me to just play nice and "(I) have to just figure out how to work with (the other employee)"

???!!!!

So, if my mutilated body is found in a ditch somewhere, or I seemed to have over dosed on pesticides, or ran over with a bob cat or lawnmower, I'm posting this blog so that at least my parents will know that I wasn't suicidal, wouldn't get in front of a huge nasty piece of equipment willingly, or put my person in danger in any other way.

I was actually just doing my job.

Those Jeans

You know those jeans. The ones that live in the back of your closet or the bottom of a drawer. The ones that will fit you when you loose 5 pounds, and then will look so hot, that traffic sill stop, men will faint, your boss will give you a raise, and they discover how to make your favorite confection calorie-free. The jeans that will bring ecological harmony and world peace when you wear them.

Just 5 more pounds.

Well, I have a pair of these jeans. And I've dropped 15 pounds so these suckers should fit beautifully. What a load of horse pucky! If I loose any more weight, I will officially be pushing too slim and just be considered bony. So the jeans should fit right? When I bought them I was larger than I am now and they still don't fit, which makes me think.

I don't think I've actually ever worn these jeans. I think I looked at the size (which is one up from what I'm currently wearing), grabbed them and bought them, with out trying them on, because I needed a pair and was heading somewhere. I'm also beginning to think that they are junior sized. Because let's be honest here, I have no ass. Never had one, never will-it's genetics. My hips aren't overly broad either, and this is where these "jeans" don't fit.

I have come to the conclusion that short of shaving bone from my pelvis and hip joints, these will never fit me. Ever. And do you know what I almost did? Fold them up and put them back into the drawer. No, no, no!

So I stayed my hand and instead, started a pile. And the jeans led the way. Followed by turtlenecks (I really can't explain how horrific I look in those), cap sleeve shirts ( I already have the shoulders of a linebacker, do I really need to point that out?!), and every button down shirt and cardigan that I can't actually button.

I feel better already. And I'm going shopping for jeans this weekend to fill the gap in my wardrobe.

Spring is here!

Spring is here and it is official. Do you know how I know? I had to mow the lawn.

All up and down my street today, the residents in my fair little shire broke out the hats and sunscreen. Grabbed the keys to the shed, and dusted off ye ol' lawn mower. Across the realm could be heard the sweet buzzing of bees, the chirping of birdies and the whirl of mowers and trimmers. You could smell the fresh cut grass and almost taste the victory lemonade.

And then there was my house. The sounds of which should not be repeated. But I will confess to swearing in three different languages and would have added more had I known them. My mower would not start. After extensive kicking an cussing, and with the help of a nail file, I got it started, mowed the frippin' grass, locked the damn thing back in the shed until next week and headed in to take a shower and cool down and recompose.

Better, yes? Birdies are chirping again, the windows are open and the cat looks dreamily out at the aforementioned birdies. Ahh. Then I pick up my knitting.

On the needles I have : one lace stole, three 2nd socks, a tank top out of sock weight aptly named "frogged camisole", a tweed sweater 3 sizes too large, an albatross for my sister she will get when she's 80, and the beginning of another tank in 100% cotton, because I want to see if it works before wasting good yarn on the pattern.

If you are not a knitter, you may not understand the list. You might say something silly like, why so many projects? If you knit, you understand and groan in sympathy. All are time consuming pains in the a$$ that are currently ranking with the lawn mower.

My solution? Make lemonade, eat ice cram and ignore knitting until next weekend. Then put knitting and Mower in the "Rabbit Cage o Rage" and see which one comes out in the end. That or the garden which needs to be plowed eats them both.

Brilliant, yes?

Girls Scouts Live On!

Ah, the memories that can come crashing back when there is a proper trigger. Or in this case, total immersion.

I can now look back on being a girl scout with fond memories. I seem to have blocked out the revulsion I had at the time to the wonderful polyester uniforms purchased at the nearest JC Penny. Okay, not completely. I remember the tasseled socks, annoying sash, the troop goodie-tooshoos (Jill Lusher) who had all the badges, the mean rule mom (Gail Lusher) and trying to hide our "secret society" in high school. I remeber my friends and crafts and projects instead. And hey, who can forget the cookies? Ever?

Last night, I was treated to a flash back of epic proportions with the difference that I was THE adult and not one of the girls running around and giggling. I finally understand how my mother in her middle years felt and why she managed to have the most childish fun at every turn she could. While I would blush and get embarrassed, my mother would get us not only kicked out of Toys'R'Us, but banned as well. She was behaving the same as a child. In other words, she was HAVING FUN! Imagine that, an adult having fun. Simple, childish fun.

But I digress. Last night I had the honor of escorting a friends darling Duchess daughter to her Girl Scout meeting. And I so wanted to play too! And they got to play dress up! Movie Stars for the night. I can't say I was entirely an observer, as I went slightly overboard and brought various hats and such for the girls to wear for pictures. But alas, in the end I was the adult and did not get to dress up. But I did get some great photos. And let's face it, I have a whole closet I can play dress up with, the purpose being dress up. Some items from my mother, some that I have collected myself. Hopefully someday my own daughter will have a collection too. In the mean time:




And don't forget, Girl Scout Cookies loose their calories when put into ice cream!

Weekends of fruitfullness

Okay, it is Sunday. And I am taking it as a day of rest. Why is it when I spend a weekend with nothing planned on my agenda that I manage to keep busy, I feel like I have done nothing constructive and have been totally reclusive. And yet, when I have a full schedule set up for a weekend, I feel exhaustive, rushed and like I still haven't gotten anything done.

And when I have a weekend where things are scheduled I long for"A weekend at home where I can just knit and relax all day, sleep in and take naps so I'm restful." Work on the guitar or yoga.

I feel exhausted come Monday and I can never quite seem to get back to balance. I need to work on that.

And a cat is playing with my toes.

Lace: An evil no one tells you about!

Grandma's doilies, trendy tops, hair ties, and table clothes. All have lace. A beautiful airy fabric that can be thin enough to slide through a wedding band. Or, that's the goal and the true measure of knitting a lace stole.

Right! The true measure is going to be can I make the practice one with out having my family commit me. The test of character will come if I can bring myself to start the "real" one if I ever finish the test run.

So far, even the cat has not been seduced, enchanted, or developed even a remote interest in the tangled nest that is the 1st stole. I admit that my sub-conscience is leaving it out and vulnerable to see if she goes for it, (so I can blame her for the mess) she's not biting.

And yet, I can't yet put it down. Because in my mind, there has to be a way to make this simple and to make it make sense. I could breakdown and atom easier.

I love the fact that at this point in time, on of my knitting idols is working on a lace shawl. so in my mind, we are working as a team to create lace for the world. Hopefully she is having better luck than me.