Huzzah! My back has improved MUCHLY, and I can walk now, & sit for a while too. Why my SI joint of the left (literally, where de hipbone connect to de backbone) chose to lock up, I'm still not quite sure. But the goal is to Not Have It Happen Again.

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More goals: to get my girl from daycare, then go for a walk. I have a half row of carrots left to thin*, then we might help the man sort rocks, too; he's putting trees in the little strip between our house & the neighbours. And I've got one load of laundry left. I think I will reorder those so that Am doesn't see the carrot thinning - last year she caught us deadheading the marigolds, and no flower has since been safe. I feel kind of like baking*, but it's incredibly hot in the house, so I think I will try to quash that urge for at least a while.

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(Bran muffins with Gran's assistance. Note the flour & bran highlights in Am's hair.)
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And then there's packing; we're headed home for a week tomorrow. I don't really feel prepared, and I'm not sure why. I think this whole convalescent thing has kinked my mojo a little. I can't even brain being fogged in because of meds**; I guess I should get my list making on! What to pack, what to get done, what knitting to bring along...

(The first cherry stem hat. I can't seem to get decent photos of the darn things...)

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Having said that, I'm going to get moving. Literally.

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*To be precise, I feel like eating baking, and like letting Am help me bake. Messy, but so fun.

**No back pain meds for you, pregnant lady! No allergy meds either! Sit there & sneeze & suffer, woman!***

***Maybe a little melodramatic, bit certainly how I was feeling.

Home, Home Home

Yes, we're back from Whitehorse. I really liked it there; and it must be really cool because I was not in such fine shape. My back was out; and after yesterday's AWFUL flight from Vancouver... we're talking three extra hours sitting in the plane on the tarmac... I could hardly walk. Thankfully, I found a chiro today who helped (my regular is away), and I'm much better. Still maybe not good, but better.

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Am was an absolute gem all weekend, including flights, with the exception of one attempted bathtime. Today she was a little rocky, but I think part of that is getting home to the routine, and a bit shy on Momma snugs.

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All of that is fine and dandy; but here's the thing. I've made good progress on my swiss zaubercheeseball scarf, and I don't like it. I mean, I like the yarn, I like the colors, I like the concept; but it's a little, well, messy feeling. I think most of the mess vibe is around the holes; and I think that they might block out okay, but meh. I am just not feeling it, which surprises me a little. I guess I'm just not into cheeseballs. *sigh*

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It also males me mull "What else to zauberball?". I'm decided on wanting a scarf, on wanting it to be reversible, and it needs to be relatively simple. And nothing too heavy feeling - I've already rejected the idea of a reversible cabled scarf.

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Anybody have any other ideas?

White-horsin' Around

Hm. Well, I guess you didn;t need to read what I just typed. Have some photos:

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Am loves to help bake. This is a batch of brownies; the strange smears on the counter are from repeated dust-bustering of the dry ingredients.
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These are the toes at the lake! We almost all did pedis, although the two littlest missed out because hello, have you met my daughter? Do you think that she could sit still long enough to let paint dry? (And the other little is even, well, littler.)
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This is me & my zauberballs, which are currently becoming a swiss zaubercheeseball scarf. I think I look slightly smug, and much curvier than normal, in this photo. (You are totally welcome to make all sorts of ball jokes, btw. It's hurting my brain a little bit to stick to the high road.)

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I adore that Am's rubber boots match the slide.
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Am was blissed right out by this experience; she only looks off in the photo because she didn't understand why she should stop looking at Cookie Monster. She didn't really care about Abby Cadabby.

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And now, I'm going to go & join my girl in a nap. More on Whitehorse (which is where we are) later!

The List

So, I've been busy. In the past two weeks or so, I've:

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1) Worked part time, mostly as per regularly scheduled.

2) Been to the Stampede four (4) different days; three of them I had Am along. Highlights were: mini-donuts (more please), cows (mooo), horses (neigh), baby horsies! (inchoate squees of delight), sheep (baa-baa), pigeons (bird sign*), and Cookie Monster (COOKIE MONSTER!).

3) Successfully resisted mini-donuts on one (1) of those days. (Let's not talk about the fudge that day, okay? I like to look noble & strong & junk.)

4) Made a whopping pile of ham'n'beans for the hubby's Stampede bbq, which were totally demolished by the time Am & I got there.

5) Visited with out-of ton family.

6) Visited with more family, this time as the out-of-towners. It was a convention - a three-province, triple sibling with most spouses & almost all children, PLUS gramma visit. There were um, 6 little girls? Ages 1-14. Wicked. Totally worth the 14 hours*** round trip drive. Thank heavens AM is a happy traveller.

7) Had a doc's appointment that I've been stressing over for some time now - although almost a two hour wait in the waiting room, I did have my knitting & got good news.

8) Visited with mom & toured the Calgary area, in search of beads, yarn, a swift & ball-winder, little girl knickers, and paint.

9) Returned the destructive cat. More on that later.

10) Restrained myself from gorging myself on Rainier cherries. Instead, I parcel out a small amount of them, then try to eat them slowly, and end up stuffing the whole little bowl in my face. I've been waiting for MONTHS for those babies!

11) Stuffed an incredible amount of food into my face at the Knitting Guild's pot luck. I also picked up my knitting, and my ribbon! That I won at Stampede! *blushes*

12) Got my Ishbel to the point where I'm now working lace rows. Ooo, erg.

13) Roughed out the poodle skirt for the Best Deal Ever. More on that, too.

14) Had lunch with C_____ and found the cutest dress (on sale!) to wear to cousin M____'s wedding.

15) Picked up more netting for a crinoline. I'm also taken with Liliane, at the fabric store, because she was pleasant, she was friendly, she knew what she was doing, and! She knew that you need about 7 meters of netting for a decent crinoline! Do you know how nice it is to have someone give you a concrete answer to a question? Wowsa. Awesome. (I also got some fabric for a dress for me, & a dress for Am, and the fixin's for some yoga bolsters. Everything - except for cut notions - is 50% off.)

Today, I've taken Am to daycare, partially because I've torched my lower back (I'm blaming some tension about budgets & to-do lists & the concept of Potty-Training, in combo with my chair at the office), and partially because today I want to:

1) Finish poodle skirt & crinoline.

2) Finish books & take them to accountant.

3) Go to chiro at 2 pm.
4) Do not slouch. Do not lift heavy things.

5) Practice Kegels. (I do that every day, but still.)

6) Decide on needle size needed for Zauber Cheese Ball Scarf. Get needle, I suspect. I'm thinking it'll need to be a 3.75 or 4. This makes it to the list because I need a brain & hand friendly project, and Shawl That Counting is getting too big for my purse, and Ishbel is now only good if I'm sitting & Am is not conscious.

7) Pack for Whitehorse.

8) Continue to talk to my subconscious about my back.

9) Find the &*$*@ rooster puzzle piece, that is missing from Am's "Sounds" puzzle. Every night, when we turn of the lights, the rooster goes off.

10) Get on with it already.

11) Oh yeah, and maybe dump some pics into the computer, so you cansee some of the latest & greatest.

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*No, not THE bird. The ASL sign for bird. What do you think I'm teaching her**?

**Although, she cracked one eye open a little, the squinched it shut. Then both of them flew open, and she sat bolt upright, said what sounded awfully like "Holy F__k!", grabbed her bear, and dove under a pile of pillows. I'm trying to think of what else she could have been saying.

***I am no longer getting carsick - thank heavens. I'm a little cautious saying this, because I know it can come back, but still. For now, okay.

Yes, Well, We'll Ignore That For Now.

Whew! I've been busy. I'll post pics & descriptions & junk, but we're not done with the schmozzle yet, so instead, have an except of a Facebook conversation between myself & one niece.
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Me: "...BTW, the man wants to know if you know how early you'll have to get up & leave. It's 10am, so I figured that you could probably do that okay - if you don't stay up until "holy crap it's late o'clock" the night before. :)
Lots of love, K.

PS: Hey do you want to work on a knitting project while you're up visiting?"
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Her: "Hey Alright. Ten isn't bad at all and i don't know about knitting it kinda bores me. Love you."
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Me: "Oh! And she stabs me through the heart, not even using a knitting needle! Oh well. I'm going to teach Am & her dad at the same time - at some point in the future. Maybe you'll find something you really want to make by then. Or you'll see the charm of the boring - it's kind of soothing to do something so simple, that can add up to such an interesting end result. And I'll still love you if you don't knit, partially because that means that my stash is safer.
Ten am it is. See you soon, Love K."

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Now, this is the girl who once asked "So the Jedi's are the good guys?", as well as noting "This is boring", RIGHT BEFORE THE DEATH STAR BLEW UP. So maybe she's on the other end of the gene pool from where I'm at... I still love her, but occasionally does not make any sense to my brain.

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Off to carry on with some (really) boring projects- no, sadly, not being ironic. We're talking banking, filing, folding laundry, etc. etc....

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PS: I did lay my hands on some Zauberball - two skeins of Fuchienbeest, for a Swiss Cheese scarf. Hubba hubba. I plan on knitting it on the trip to Whitehorse this weekend. Yes! We're going to Whitehorse for the weekend!

Thursday Sticky Notes

Dear Man In A Yellow Jacket, Next To Me On The Train This Morning:

I'm sorry. I must have been the most creeptacular neighbour. Now, don't get me wrong; I am in no way apologizing for the knitting & knitting needles. You won't like me when I'm not knitting. There's no need to look at knitting needles like that.

I am sorry that my allergies are running amok, and chose to arrange with my sinuses to flashmob my nose with copius clear snot. I'm also deeply sorry that I'd ruthlessly cleaned out my purse, and after much rootling (surreptiously snorking all the while), I could only find one tissue, which was of course printed with rubber duckies. I'm not contagious, and if I could take my allergy meds, I would. But I'm knocked up, so I'm stuck at the mercy of all the tree sex* floating through the air. Also, repeated uses of the same rubber-duckie tissue is less disgusting than wiping my nose on my sleeve. Or your sleeve. Still, I'm sorry. Hope your day improved.

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Dear ____ At Work: (and ____, too.)

The reason I make little instruction manuals up is for you to use them to try & teach yourself things. I even put lots of pictures in. When you ask questions that are addressed on page 1, you in no way endear yourself to me.

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Dear Chiro -

I love you. Thanks.

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Dear Quesadilla -

I love how your cheese congeals,

I could eat you most every meal.

With double salsa & sour cream

You are such a spicy dream,

And at six bucks you're a heck of a deal.

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Dear Readers -

Sorry about the quesadilla limerick. I couldn't help myself.

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Dear LYS -

I'm trying to decide which signs from the universe will mean that I should go & get some Zauberball. If the order (with the fuchsia) is in before noon? If I get at least one knitting project done this weekend? If I win a lottery?

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Dear Universe -
If I try & hedge my bets will you turn on me?

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Dear Bedtime:

Yes, I know.

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*Disgusting, shameless, hermaphrodite hussies. They are clearly not complying with my policy of "I don't care what you do for jollies, as long as it's consensual", so I'm getting my judgements on. I don't consent. I hate tree pollen.

Oh yes, I did. I do. Erm.

(I don't write poetry often, and when I do, it tends to be haikus or truly awful limericks. Have you ever tried to find rhymes for goiter? I tell you. At any rate, in honor of Stampede...)
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Stampede Weak
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Hot torrid sin:
Bliss, delicious, cinnamon.
Mmm, mini donuts.
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(This probably should be followed up by a limerick about my expanding arse & contracting arteries, but whatevs. There's only so much inspiration around here today, and I'm still thinking fondly of those darling little donuts.)

Wheeeeeeeee!

I just finished the second cherry stem hat. And I do mean finished - I bound in all the loose ends & everything. The man says it's very nice, and I didn't even have to nudge him, first.

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And I lurve it. I think I like it better than the pink, not just because I got it finished without NEARLY as much shenanigans, but because it's a color that works better in my wardrobe, so I can admire it, an dimagine wearing it, instead of admiring it, and thinking "Maybe if I got a shirt that was....".

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Although, on reflection, it's nice to admire this one and know that that's how it is supposed to look, and not wonder if I screwed something up, and it just looks like it was supposed to be that way. (Yes, it's a fine distinction, but for pattern writing, a very important one.)

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I'll give you pics - soon - but for now, I am tired, the camera is still in the bag we took to Stampede*, I've taken all of my makeup off**, and so the combination of laziness, tiredness, and my basic "unfit for mass consumption" state mean that you'll have to wait. But I'm very pleased.

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Nighty-nooties! Dream of successful knitting projects.

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*Along with everything else, other than puppy & blankie.

**And my bra. The pants are next.

Shocking news!

Yes, the green cherry stem hat is only 9 rows away from being finished. Have I ever mentioned how much I love projects with minimal finishing?

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Interestingly enough, it's flown right by. I think I've got the lace pattern memorized, and I've learned that it is far faster to count through a whole row to check, than to get to the end, say "Oh frak", then tink it back, or to frog a couple three rows.

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I don't think I'd've had any major tinking sessions, but I was knitting on the phone, chatting with my brother. (I use the speaker function so I don't get neck cricks.)

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I told him about my exciting weekend, with the ribbon & all.

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He told me he got married on Friday.

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Really. You're thinking "Oh?" So am I! I had no idea he was even dating anyone. Mom demanded to see the paperwork before she'd believe it. I botched a row or two, understandably enough. I'd mentally sort of slotted him into the 'confirmed bachelor' role.

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They've been dating since March, and I guess A_____ said 'when it's right, you just know'. Here's wishing them luck!

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And you know what this means, right? Wedding gift shopping at the Stampede... I'm thinking matching belt buckles, a sham-wow, a euro-mop, maybe a slap-chop or a veggie-matic, and some fudge, to keeo their strength up. Now, why can't you get a euro-mop spray-hose that juliennes fries...

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PS: I think my Jenkins is small enough to class as one of the Delights - it's size falls into the range, but at 1.4 oz is on the heavy end of the spectrum. I'd like to try spinning on something less than an ounce to see how it feels; although I'm pretty committed to my love of the Turkish design. And does anyone have any bright ideas on how to spin in the car?

PPS: Spellcheck, "tink" is a word. It's a verb, for when you carefully un-knit a stitch. Or row.

Oh yes, the spindle...

I lurves my Turkish spindle. And I think it lurves me back.

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So, after I talked to another Jenkin's owner, did some spinning, did some reading on Ravelry, and did some more spinning, I am well pleased. I can spin the weight I wanted - which makes for some yummy singles, or a sturdier plied yarn, and the spindle takes one of the steps out of the process.

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How? The spindle, my friends, is a transformer.

That ball of yarn has not been re-wound; that's how it came off the spindle. (The elephant? He's on holiday.)
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First, the center part comes out. I think of it as a chopstick, and a couple quick minutes of research have yielded no proper nomenclature. So yes, first, you pull out the chopstick.

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Then you pull out one of the legs. (As this spindle has them pointed down, I think leg. I've heard arm used as well.)

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Then you pull out the last arm. And you have a lovely ball of yarn.

(Isn't it pretty? An 80/20 wool/silk blend. This was the color at the center of the ball of rovings - and not why I bought that roving at all - so I decided to play with that portion of it. Pretty nice, as Am says.)

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I am so incredibly pleased with this spindle, & with the yarn that I've spun up so far. I think I'm going to get another lighter one, so I can spin finer as well. I'm not sure if my taste in yarns has changed since I learned to spin, or if I just want to stretch my fiber further, quite literally. At any rate, don't be surprised if another spindle joins the collection. (Let's not even talk about wheels, okay? I can sneak a spindle into my budget, but not a wheel.)

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And this is a niddy-noddy.

This is about what they're used for - winding skeins, and setting the twist into yarn. That's the grey wool that I spun & plied - 153g of "Annie Dobson", a grey Romney ewe that belongs to Val. I suspect it will end up as part of mittens. It is pleasingly yarn looking - as compared to some of my very wobbly earlier attempts. (Wobbly yarn is okay - but only if that's what you're going for. I wasn't.)

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Another thing I'm pleased with - I finished the Cherry-Stem Hat. Now, not only am I pleased it's finished, I'm pleased with the finished product too.

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And so, like any sensible person who just had a project drive them nuts & question their basic abilities, I cast on another one. I'll have more pics of hats, but dudes, I'm in my pj's with no bra & no make-up & I am loathe to admit how sparse my eyebrows are these days. So you'll just have to wait!

Well, smack my gob!

I'd entered some knitting - mittens & a hat - into the Stampede. I wasn't done what I'd been intending to enter, so I was just there to represent.

And I got a ribbon! Third place in my category! (The mulitcolored tam/slouch hat - Pi'O - and the white ribbon are mine!)

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(I also got some mini-donuts, which I shared. Aren't you proud of me? I'm a little obsessive about the mini-donuts.)

What A Great Day!

Seeing as it was a holiday today, we slept in, didn't brush our hair, & I let Am accessorize her outfit herself.

(Yes, those are socks stuffed into her sandals. It made her happy, and I told her dad that she gets that from HIM, not me. He got home just before naptime.)

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The day carried on being a lot of fun with minimal screaming - partially because we didn't have anything to do (other than nap), or anyplace to go (other than the playground). Also, I had a nap. Now, I need to figure out how to respect Am's sense of self & desire to be independent with our need to get up, dressed, and fed in less than three hours.

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We were busy today - even with the nap, and the morning being spent on getting up, watering the containers, & slide-time.

I have all sorts of pics for a longer post, but I'll save those for another day. I continue to adore my Turkish delight, the cherry stem hat is grudgingly coming along, and Am likes to sweep/baton twirl.

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(And I finally got myself my boots that I've been coveting forever. I've been squirreling $ away for months, and when I finally got them, they were on sale! They've never been on sale, in the years that I've been visiting them. Thanks universe, for the high-five!)

Tuesday's Sticky Notes

(A large amount of these are inspired by my darling, challenging girl.)

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Dear husband,

I know you need to travel for work. If you line up this many trips in a row again, ... um. (Several options erased.) I will probably cry. (Several sentences erased due to undue self-pity.) Just so you know. Things that make pregnant ladies cry should be avoided if at all possible.

XOXO, K.

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Dear boss,

I totally appreciated your response to my cancellation of our 9:00am meeting. (It was something along the lines of "No worries, I clearly remember those toddler days".)

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Dear _____,

You need to take some time for yourself. Don't let your work consume you. Really. You'll have a better self for both work & home.

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Dear ______,

I don't even know what to say. What's wrong with you? Are you crazy? Are you that insecure? are all questions that spring to the top of my mind. The real question is: do I have enough energy to keep being your friend if yo do this to yourself again? (The fact that you do not realize that you're doing it to yourself in no way mitigates the situation.)

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Am, my darling sweet girl,

Supper was supposed to be a treat. You got apple juice & a piece of banana bread. How was this worth screaming, the acting up, and the rest of the drama? Sleep well & scream less tomorrow.

Love, Mom

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Ladies at the yarn store,

I'm so glad that you're all there.

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Cherry-stem hat,

Yes, I am not smart. Thank you for helping to illustrate that to me. Repeatedly.

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Baby -

I'm sure enjoying you bomping around. I can't wait to meet you.

Mom.

Wheeeeee!

What a nice day. I realized on Thursday that it's Olds Fiber Week this week, & that this weekend there was a merchant mall.

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So I proposed to the man that instead of going to Black Diamond, to Vale's, we go to Olds. Because I want to. I must have asked prettily enough, because we all went for a ride in the family car to Olds. (Also, we are going to Vale's tomorrow.)

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Today was great!

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A) I did not feel carsick. It's possible that my hope of finding a new spindle, the weight I want, cancelled out the carsickness, but maybe it was just a stage of pregnant; a stage that's done. Either way, I felt good in the car today.

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B) Am was absolutely the most charming creature for most of today; she was happy at the chiropractor (the man got cricked), she was happy at the cafe (the man got a latte, I got my standard princess), she was happy in the car ("winkle, winkle, little star, h-i-j-k-l-m-n-o-p..."), she was happy at the market.

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C) I was happy at the market too. First off, I found Twist of Fate, because she' mentioned on Rav that she'd have Jenkin's Turkish spindles. I've been hankering for a Turkish spindle for a while, because spindle spinning is slow, & the Turk's end up sort of abbreviating a step in the process, because what you spin is neatly wound into a loaf as you go. And I've heard great things about them; they're called Turkish Delights by some. She had three left; two were the same size as what I have now, but there was one that was the size I wanted. Huzzah!

I also finally found a mundane niddy-noddy; nothing hand carved, or miniature, or elaborate. It's drying right now, the man threw some finish on it for me. (He was glad to, once I substituted the words "wood stuff" for "niddy-noddy".) And a nifty scarf kit that felts silk & wool fibers to a silk chiffon scarf. I've read about the technique, but wasn't motivated enough to hunt it all up for myself. Now, all I need is 2m x 24cm of bubble wrap, & some time. (And I got a Ravelry button!)

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D) Just down from Twist of Fate was a fantastic lady - Barbara Robinson of Luscious Luxury. She does a lot of (delicious) silk & other exotic fiber dying; she prefers to sell wholesale. I'd love to buy wholesale, but I restrained myself to one bag of tussah silk rovings.

Pretty nice, as Am would (& did) say. This photo is in the baggie - the other pics didn't take worth a darn; the sheen was blinding! (This is good, btw.)

The other good thing about Barbara - she was a delightful lady. We'd been chatting for a while when Am & the man came mumbling by, and Am was immediately drawn to touch everything, including Barbara's lunch, and her spinning wheel & the silk/wool roving that she was working at. The purple wad of fiber is the piece of roving that she pulled off to give to Am - Am loved it, with both hands, and I promised that I was going to do my best to make her a fiber lover. (Already on my list of things to do.) (I can't make the link to her site work - but I have her email if you want it.)

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E) I got some lavender Eucalan from an incredibly nice gentleman from Saskatchewan; and I got a pound of Corriedale top from a similarly pleasant woman from Cochrane.
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F) Then we got out of there, with my budget & the man & Am's good humor intact. (Wow! No one saw either of those hoped-for things actually being accomplished! Zounds!)

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G) The drive home was pleasant - I enjoyed sitting in a car without having to focus so very hard on the horizon, the breathing, & the not getting ill.

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H) I finished plying my handspun fiber from Val - I'd been super close to completion forever, but the lack of a niddy-noddy to set the twist was killing my motivation. (My improvised attempts at niddy-noddy substitution were not satisfactory.) So, once the niddy-noddy is dry, this will have its twist set, & be officially part of the yarn stash.

(153g of "Annie Dobson", a grey Romney ewe that belong's to Val.)

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Am got screamy after supper, but the knowledge that the man was gardening & I could have help if I asked for it really, well, helped. Now she's asleep, & I'm going to play with my new treasures.

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PS: I am excited about my new spindle, partially because I have this theory: spinning will outsmart baby-brain; I won't be able to screw spinning up as much as knitting. Can't wait to see if it will or won't be proven true.

Wherein Our Issue Is Still Not Resolved

Well, I finally managed to get things sorted last night. I'd even started knitting into new yarn - you know, not yarn that has previously been knit into the hat, then frogged out, and I thought:
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"This is going well; I should take a progress pic to show the intarweb that I can count!"

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The universe heard me, natch; and so I've spent the last 43 minutes trying to sort out what is going on with this row. I still don't have my (simple) lace pattern really clearly established - I think in another couple repeats, I will be able to see more clearly WTF is going on.

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I've knit portions of this row at least three times. And when I thought I finally had it - my stitch count didn't work at the end of the row.

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I finally figured it out; I did it to myself WITH THE VERY FIRST STITCHES IN THE ROW. It's YO, K2, yadda yadda, not YO, K1, YO K2, yadda yadda. So the whole row must go!

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On the upside, I've got a working title for this hat now - no, not "YOU @%%$$ POS" - the hat isn't to blame. It's me. I admit it.

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So it's the cherry stem hat. Was it ever in vogue for your crowd to prove that they could tie a cherry stem in a knot with their tongue? It seems like an easy task; clearly understood, seemingly easily accomplished by others...and yet. I am challenged, despite the cleverness I thought I possessed. I guess I could call it the humble pie hat, too, but somehow naming a hat after a pie seems like it's a lead up to some kind of vaudeville act.

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Which might be okay too, now that I think about it, but I like the cherry stem hat better. I'm sure the knitting fates & the universe shall present many more examples to feel humbled.

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Oh look. As I ripped out the row discussed earlier, I discovered that I'd botched the row before that too. The row where ALL I HAVE TO DO IS KNIT UNTIL THE MARKER. Oh well. I'm going to go & have a shower; maybe I can wash my hair successfully... although yesterday, I totally glitched & shampooed my hair like three times because I kept forgetting to grab the conditioner, not the shampoo. Yeah, I guess it is baby brain.

I'm pretty, I'm smart, & gosh darn it...

Well, maybe I'm not smart. I'm being challenged by counting to six.

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All I'm trying to do is: *YO, K6, YO, K1*, repeat to end of row.

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My poor, pretty cherry-blossom pink yarn. It's getting a little beat up looking; I don't even want to admit how often I've frogged this row.

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My only comfort is that the first time, I frogged with good intentions. I counted just fine; it's just that I HATED what my dpn's did to my YO's.

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So the question is... am I tired? Is this baby brain? Am I too fascinated by the tv show about ancient wonders with new discoveries? Has a week of being an oppressive dictator eroded my mental abilities?

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I can still count - really. I just finished a hat that I'm very pleased with.

(Of course, I'm lazy as anything, so instead of a completed hat pic, here's a pic of Am helping make cookies. These were already in the camera, so I didn't have to move my arse to find the camera.)

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Stay tuned sports fans; the man is home tomorrow to resume his share of dictatorial duties. And if that, sleep & a channel change doesn't help, we'll be officially in baby-brain.

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PS: If you don't knit & are confused by the lingo - doesn't it sound cool? Don't you want to learn how, so that you too can hang out with the cool kids at the yarns store?

I Have The Sweetest Husband

I really do. He's fabulous.

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The man has been away since Sunday. Despite the brief & stellar presence of Auntie S____, Am misses her daddy very much, which she expresses as intense rage*, which interprets vocally as "WAAAAAAAAIGHAAAAHAHH". And maybe I'm a delicate flower, but my day gets thrown when it begins with a solid hour or two of that focused at me.

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So the surprise the man arranged for me was completely unexpected, and it arrived at the best time. We got home, and there was a parcel on the front step.

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It was from Hammacher Schlemmer; which, along with Lee Valley, has become a catalogue of choice in our household.**

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My little treat this week has been knitting with some exquisite Egyptian cotton yarn I picked up from the Knitting Room, so I think you can imagine my delight and astonishment when I cracked the box open & found (drum roll please).

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The poshest, most luxurious, Egyptian cotton, 1500 thread count sheets. Stunning.

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What an incredible way to brighten up my day. They're just hanging now; I promised not to sleep on them until the man get home. One of the nicest things about posh sheets is the fact that I will still feel fabulous in them; even once I'm big enough that I can't roll over without concerted effort.

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So I think that perhaps sleep won't be first on the list of things to do once we go to bed.

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*Right. I'll put this on the list: it's important to recognize & honor your emotions, and even if they make you uncomfortable, you shouldn't substitute other emotions for them. Another thing on the list: potty training.

**I haven't got Victoria's Secret in paper for years - better deals online. Also, there's a pregnancy moratorium on nice lingerie. (Anyone remember the Wally World bra fiasco?) Am does like Sears, but I think that's more a quantity than quality thing.

Good Karma, Good Laugh

S____ has fortuitously been in town for a couple days, and today she was headed downtown so I carpooled with her. I suggested we stop for a coffee; the idea was warmly accepted.

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So she gets her soy latte & I get my princess coffee (mocha, no whip, no foam, whole milk sometimes at 140)*. We sit for a brief, well, sit, and I notice the pair having coffee just across from us. I suspect they're just work friends; not romantically involved. Both are clean, well put together, early to mid-thirties.

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The middle button of her blouse is undone. I had a quiet conversation with S____ as to whether or not I should let her know - it was loud, & they were far away enough that I would have had to yell. I could have tried to catch her eye, but they were absorbed enough in their conversation that I would've looked crazy/stalker. You couldn't actually really see her bra, so I shrugged & decided to leave well enough alone.

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On the way out, though, I had to tell her. What if she had an important meeting or something? I couldn't not say anything. So I just leaned down as I passed, & said "You have a button undone."

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I kept going; S___ was behind me, and once we're out of the cafe, she bursts into laughter.

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"That was awesome! She glared at him and said 'Why didn't you tell me?' He squirmed, and muttered 'I didn't notice...' She exploded: 'How could you not notice!' Wicked!"

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Very funny. Very funny indeed.

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(Also very funny: I, the original croch-idiot, helped S____ learn how to crochet last night & sort out a granny square. Wow!)

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*I like getting princess coffees. Yes, they are expensive, but they are an occasional treat. And I get exactly what I want. And that's worth $5 some days.

Oh wow man...

This was originally a brief post about the first image - you see, I've been looking through the Garn Studio's free patterns. And there are sure some finds...
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Doesn't that face make you want to knit those mittens? It makes me want to knit them, at any rate. I'm also imagining a) the photo shoot & b) what the rejected proofs looked like.

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But I couldn't resist sharing this with you. This is stunning. I could maybe see making the hat if it was really supposed to be a tea cozy... but why would a grown woman make this for herself? (I should totally make one for S_____. I can totally imagine her wearing that out in the field.)

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They do have some brilliant designs though. This is in sock yarn, but there's another with the same short-row shaping for women. I wonder if I could Franken-gauge a sweater that would fit Am out of the baby & the lady's pattern?

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This one gets my attention every time I go through the Garn patterns. I like it more all the time; maybe in a year or so I'll be ready to commit to actually trying to make it. I'm sure my skills are adequate; but I get AADD really badly. (You know AADD? Artistic Attention Deficit Disorder?) Right now, my girth is expanding in a directly inverse ratio to my ability to focus, so I think I'm going to try & keep my projects small &/or simple. I've got lots of ideas; the execution ability is getting a bit impaired, that's all.

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I'm going to go & eat something then to bed. Later tater!

It's a much better day.

The man is home, the teeth are not so awful, and things are doing well in the garden.

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I took some pictures the other day; I think this is my favorite. The shy snowdrop anemones.

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The left half of the yard...

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The right half - the "C" of the yard.

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The purple french lilac, which is along the back fence. It's growing verrrry slowly, but smells verrry fine when it blooms.

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The peony buds, for which I have been waiting patiently. They're actually open today, but so drenched in rain that they have no fragrance at all. Maybe I'll cut some tomorrow to bring in.

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And the orange strawflowers, up on the deck in pots! The man isn't overly fond of them, but I kind of get a kick out of them & I thought the girl would enjoy their texture.

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Also, orange is a color that she seems to get right every time. And do we need a better reason to choose flowers?

...sigh...

Oh, I was so excited about tonite. I left work early, so I could be sure to get the girl in good time, and we could have a nice little all-girls supper (the man is away), then we could go to the Knitting Guild for a little while, to see all the knitters, and maybe enjoy some snacks.

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Sadly (and I do mean sad), the scheduled plans were totally trashed by the arrival of Screamerella VonScreamenhowl, the Baroness of WAAAAAAAAAAGHHIIIIIAAAAAUUUU.

(The Baroness on a recent holiday to Hawaii. She hates the sun, loathes sand, and detests fun-loving family members.)

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The Baroness was not appeased by a supper of cheddar bunnies (favorite meal), 2nd helpings of juice, tylenol, Sesame Street, books, or trying to talk with her daddy on the phone.

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After a couple solid hours of trying to a) keep my chin up b) keep calm & c) keep focused, I gave up. I eroded. I lost my shit, howled at the moon, then briefly burst into tears. Yes, the Dowager Baroness of WAAAAAAAAAAGHHIIIIIAAAAAUUUU stopped by.

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So I made the executive decision to give up on the guild for tonite. We had a snug, I threw on my sweats, and we headed downstairs to the couch.

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Except that now, NOW, the small Baroness wanted to go, GO MOMMY! And I burst into tears again. I could not face changing out of my sweats. I couldn't even think up a fun, close errand to go to.

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So the Baroness protested that for a while. She eventually came around, and we sat & snuggled & watched So You Think You Can Dance & talked about who are those? What is that?

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We got through the last two hours of the evening with only about a quarter of the time spent screaming. I'm looking at it as a success.

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She's got three of her four canines cut through. I'm hormonal as anything. The man is out of town. I missed the knitters & the snacks & the chance to show my girl off.

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At least I know my brakes work, right?

Already; So Long

It's been a year & a day since Hugh died.

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It's hard to know what to say; I'm full of a bunch of different feelings - all the ones you'd expect, plus guilt. Mom had a gathering on Sunday, and I didn't go home for it. I just couldn't deal with the drive (& the motion sickness) for such a qucik visit (the visit to the man's folks was a complete crash, even excluding Am's flu). I just couldn't do it. I feel bad that I wasn't there with her, although my brother & niece were there, as were a whole pile of guests as well. We talked a couple different times on the phone - about nothing in particular - so I felt like I was keeping her company, a bit. I still feel guilty.
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And then I feel bad that I'm being selfish by feeling guilty - I'm not just feeling sad about Hugh, and mom's loss. Grief & emotions, eh? If only they were rational, or made sense. Sadly, the only sense I've ever made out of any strong emotion has been after it ebbed.
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Maybe now that things aren't so fresh, I'll say what I would've liked to say at his service. I couldn't get the words out - I couldn't get any words out that were about how I felt about Hugh. I could talk about how everything else was, but not about me. Talking still hurts, but at least with the Intarweb, I can wipe my nose on my shirt & you won't notice. (Everyone but S___ thinks I'm joking, right? Little do you know...)
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I imagine that you do know I miss Hugh. He was like an uncle when I was a little kid - I was utterly convinced that he was Santa Claus. (What else do you make of a friend of your parents who disappears to work "Up North" all winter, and always brings treats & fun whenever he shows up?) Once I was bigger, and my suspicions that he was Santa had faded, he was still pretty darn cool. He'd buy my friends & I chips while we waited in the lobby of the Hotel. He'd sneak us sips - or out & out cups - of beer at house parties. He'd let us drive. All the things that kids think are SO AWESOME when they're 11 or 12 or so... (Some of these are particular to rural Saskatchewan, it's true.)
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I did spend a little while disliking Hugh. When Hugh & Mom started dating, I had the same reaction that you'd expect from any teenage girl whose mother has a boyfriend - when she didn't. I was Very Angry, and spent a good deal of time Not Liking Hugh At All. It was exhausting to spend so much energy trying to dislike a man that I'd spent my whole life loving. I think I managed it for maybe a month, and I finally gave up and came around. I think I still drove him nuts, but it was the unintentional teenage idiocy that happens to everyone; it wasn't malicious or targeted. (I just didn't want to eat anything green other than kiwis, and he was convinced that I was going to keel over of malnutrition by the time I was 21.)
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As time went on, our relationship gelled into a comfortable state; Mom was something we both loved very much, so we worked from there. When I brought home my man for the first time, and he & Hugh headed out ice-fishing, I began to appreciate him from a different angle.

A shorter angle in comparison, true, but a different angle. (L-R: Hugh, Mom, myself, & the man. Differences in height are not an optical illusion.)
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Once I (finally) had a good partner in my life, I could begin to appreciate how Hugh was a partner to my mother. Like everyone, there were ups and downs, but they were better suited, better friends, and had more fun than most other couples I've ever known.
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(Yes, that's the Big Bad Wolf & Little Red Riding Hood.)
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Once I became a mother, Hugh came into even sharper relief as a Grandpa. Hugh had always been a hit with the kids - but he liked them best once they started running. Am was a little different - he was here with Mom when she was born (he made fresh French bread).
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(Same round cheeks, same round bellies!)
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I don't have a lot of very clear memories from those early days with Am (one of nature's gifts to new mothers, I suppose). One evening stands out - I had Am upstairs with me & she was hungry (I think). I was going to feed her at any rate, but I wanted to change first. I laid her down on the bed, and snuck to the closet. She started crying, and I heard Hugh tiptoe in. "Shhh...shhh... hush..." He was trying to soothe her, and then, against all of his policies about "no kids until they're running", he picked her up to try & comfort her. She settled a bit, but he still look a little panicked & a lot relieved when I came to retrieve her. It might have been his first voluntary baby holding...
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I think what makes me the most wistful is that Am had such a short time with Grampa Hugh, and Sandy won't have any time at all. Am & Sandy are lucky enough to have still have two wonderful grandpas, and a whole pile if uncles, but I still wonder: who will teach them about water fights? (We had to institute an actual rule "No garden hoses indoors.") What about teddy bear stands, how gumball machines work, how to dive off of the boat, and how to drive the boat?
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It just won't be the same for them; it's not the same for any of us anymore.

Well.

So, the first thing I learned today was that poop hard to see on Oriental wool carpets. (If you're easily dismayed by scatological tales, you might want to skip the rest of this story.)

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The second thing was that I need to revise my morning plans with Am a little. We're slowly gearing up for potty training, and so part of the plan is to let her try to use the potty every morning, when she wakes up.

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Sounds easy, no? Wake up, hop out of bed, take off pants & diaper, wander down the hall, try to pee, get a new diaper. I didn't see any flaws there, and it's been working fine for the last couple days. She hasn't used the potty in the morning yet, but she understands that pee is for diapers or potties.

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I guess I forgot about poo. I was tucking the diaper into the diaper genie, and I hear her say "What are you doing? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?". I look over, and she's (obviously) talking to herself, and has just crapped on the carpet.

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"Ah-ha!" I think, "A teaching moment!". I heard that phrase - teaching moment - a while ago, & I thought it was such a brilliant spin on how to deal with something running awry. (Or amuck, in this case.) It also gets cheese points. (The last phrase I was this taken with was "value-added activity".) I don't use them much, but they're there in my head.

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So, I scooped Am up - gingerly - and we go off to the bathroom, to explain about how that was pooping, and it belongs in the diaper or the potty, etc etc. She was a little dismayed, but I didn't yell - I wasn't expecting a morning poop from her, and from her tone, she sure wasn't either. She had a nice hose-down, followed by a tub rinse, then a bath.

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The third thing is that poop really, really does blend in unfortunately well with paisley carpets. Really. So I cleaned up, and cleaned up, then cleaned up, and discovered that the wool in the rug is not colorfast. Hm. Well, at least I can roll it up, drag it outside, & garden hose it all someday - when the man is around to help - because now I'm envisioning what has been spilt on it before. (It's a lovely rug - actual wool - but not new to me. The previous owners had toddlers, too.)

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The fourth thing I learned this morning is that if you wait until 10:30 to offer breakfast, Am will happily eat, with no screaming or wailing or dramatics. If I weren't starving every day by 9am, I would be more tempted to see if this would work every day. I'm also not sure if would still work without the bathtub/mess distraction, & I definitely don't want to open every day like that.

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Now it is the afternoon, and I'm waiting (with a fair amount of trepidation) to see what is wrong with the car's brakes (other than that new, awful, constant, grindy noise) and how much it's going to cost to fix. Sigh.

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UPDATED TO ADD: Well, it's the front brakes - pads & rotors (or maybe calipers - I have a terrible memory for car stuff), and they'd just started to get really dangerous, so it's good I brought them in. It'll be about $475. Sigh. Oh well. I love my automotive place - I was talking on the phone with them earlier, I'd said that I wasa little freaked out by the noise they were making - they shouldn't make any noise, really, I think - and John said "Well, come on by, I'll go for a quick drive, and we'll know what it is & if it's safe enough to book in for Friday." Thank heavens I did, & thank heavens they're working on it right now. Three cheers for Knibbe Automotive. (The man is gonemost of this week, so the concept of wrangling the toddler, the part time work & all the rest of reality with no car was a little disheartening, to say the least. Still MUCH MUCH better than a car with no brakes, & a car-accident, when the man is a 6 hour drive away. Phew.)