Totally Random

I've had a lot of mini posts in my head over the last week. I don't have time to give them the attention I should. So here's a list:

• One morning last week, I walked out of the train station amongst a pack of commuters. When we turned the corner, a presumably homeless man sat on a concrete wall holding a coffee in his hand. He snarled at our group, "Hurry up! You're ALL gonna be late!!" It was all I could do to keep a straight face once we passed him. He was so right and it made me laugh. I couldn't help but feel his same disdain for the lot of us. Sheep doing a run/walk thing to the office. Hurry up morons! You're going to miss your life!
  
• My sister's wedding is next week. At this moment, I have yet to see my dress. Please pray for UPS swiftness.
  
• My office is moving halfway to nowhere on Friday (My friend Danielle's office moved to the epicenter of nowhere earlier this year). It's hard to find the silver lining in this one. Especially if it effects my commute - which it will.
  
• I spent at least 30 minutes of Friday night home alone trying to learn the first 8 counts to Beyonce's "Single Ladies" video. It didn't go well, but it didn't go bad.
  
• Last Thursday night I had the good fortune of leaving my office 10 minutes late. As a result I got to spend nearly 1.5 hours with the lovely Beth S. I just love my chance meetings with Beth. She's got a classic knitting style that I like and whenever she's given me advice or referred a source she's always been dead on. More importantly she's got this presence about her. She's very calm. She's wise beyond her years. I just love running into her.
• I've finished two sweaters and have yet to capture them in daylight with a camera.
• Shout out to THE ROCK CITY!! Big bro Brewer just started a job there and will make motown his home for the next 4 years with any luck. I can't wait to show the numbers how to use their hand to show where they live.
  

That's all I got.

Three Day Weekend

I kicked off the holiday weekend (Columbus Day dudes. I'm sorry you don't get it off, but I do and I'm thankful.) by making some banana bread.
(I also made cheesy muffins and a veggie tart, but those didn't last long enough for photos.)

A perfect thing to wake up to this morning.

This is how I plan to spend the day: coffee, knitting, America's Test Kitchen, a blanket and Django.

I might run some errands so that I can cook some more, but I'll make them quick so that I can get back to the couch and Django.

Bad Housewife

Dear Internet,

I've lived in my house for four years and somehow in that time I forgot that my stove does this:


Yup. I forgot. It's probably in part because when we moved in, my angel of a mother cleaned the stove and so I have no recollection of popping the hood. At least that's the story I'm sticking to. I've cleaned my stove countless times and always wondered how I'd ever get the stuff that falls down the abyss. I removed the burners for some maintenance today and gave the old hood a lift. What d'ya know?

Internet, I'm sorry. This is what it looked like down there:

Please don't tell my grandmother and if you see my mom give her a hug for cleaning my stove back then.

Back in Black

I'm not the only one with a fever. Apparently it's contagious.

Imagine my surprise at reading the Harlot's post today and the supporting video.

God, I love AC/DC. Don't they look super nerdy in the video?

While it may not be conducive to knitting, I think it's a great wager.
No dishes ever? Do you think Hubby will go for it?


...nine lives! cat eyes!...

Commuting Report 6/27/08

I finished some pretty big projects at work this week. On my commute in this morning, life seemed pretty good.

• I worked on my Skye Tweed Ribbed Cardigan. This pattern is a story for another day. It's an adventure. Maybe choose your own adventure is a more appropriate explanation. We'll talk more on this later.
• Midway through my commute I got a hankerin' for some Ray LaMontagne, or as Hubby calls him, "Ray The Mountain." My ipod supplied the necessary fix.
• Pulling into North Station is always a transition for several reasons:
  
• We cross the bridge and it's official. We're in Boston. We're all definitely gonna have to go to work.
  
• Everyone starts packing up. Newspapers are put away, zippers are zipped, yarn disappears.
  
• Everyone gets a little antsy vying for a spot close to the door so they can escape the train first.
  
• You can hear the signal bell as we pull into the station.

• Once I step off the commuter rail onto the platform, my taste in music totally changes. I turn into a different person. I'm not knitting girl. I'm do-not-eff-with-me-no-I-won't-give-you-change-get-outta-my-way-don't
  -expect-me-to-hold-the-door-for-more-2-seconds gurl. Ray just won't cut it anymore. I switched to AC/DC.
• When I got to the bus I kept knitting and listening to AC/DC. I cannot even tell you how much it tickles me to knit on a stuffy/tweedy cardigan while listening to AC/DC.
• I decided this morning that if I were to do karaoke, I would choose "Back in Black." Yes, I'm let loose, from the noose, that's kept me hanging around. The jury is still out on whether I would sing it in a normal voice or in a Bon Scott/Jack Black type ROCKOUT voice.
  
• It is impossible for me to suppress the urge to squeal like a sorority gurl when I hear the first 3 bars of "You Shook Me All Night Long." (Chrisie is so rolling her eyes right now.) This is a totally unexpected byproduct of my college years. It's a completely visceral reaction. I will forever want to abandon my drink and run onto the dance floor. My first instinct is to search the crowd looking for my friends. I imagine I'll be 80 in a nursing home and I'll have the same reaction, putting down my Ensure and wheelin' my chair to middle of the rec room.
  
• When I was within one block of work I saw the best t-shirt: "Pickles are cucumbers soaked in evil." While I don't agree with the sentiment, I did find it hysterical and laughed right out loud.
  

After consultation with Hubby, he thinks Bon Scott/Jack Black is a must and he said he'd headbang in the front row. It's good to have groupies.

You cannot make this up.

WARNING: not about yarn, knitting or wool. This story could gross you out and for that I'm not really sorry because I still think it's funny.

4am this morning, I am startled awake by the sound of a dog wretching in my bedroom. I could totally tell it was the type of wretching where the dog is straining and heaving, bringing up something from way below decks. I said my first thought out loud, "Oh no."

Now, I'm not really ashamed to admit that the emotions behind my "Oh no" were not 100% about the well-being of my dog. Maybe more like 40%. The other 60% was about my carpet. Dog puke is a terrible thing. A staining terrible thing at 4am when I can't even begin to think about where cleaning products are.

My "Oh no" woke up Hubby who has developed a rather ingenious dog puke technique. (Not that this happens a lot, but Django's becoming a senior citizen and still eats like a puppy. He still swallows rawhides whole. Whole things do not digest and therefore must come out the way they came in.) Hubby's technique includes grabbing the nearest dog blanket and sliding it under the dog and "catching" the offending nasties. The blanket can then be thrown directly in the wash, no carpet cleaning, no scrubbing. Sometimes, I just love this man.

So, I say "Oh no" and Hubby shoots out of bed ready to play catcher while I sit up, still in bed fretting over my carpet. The deed was done and Hubby walks out of the room with something in his hand and says, "It was this." In his hand he's displaying something for me to see in the dark. A rawhide I thought and laid back down.

Hubby returns from wherever he went and he climbs into bed a little too close to me. I say, "You're under my blanket?" (Why we have separate blankets is a story for another day, my friends. We're not mormon, we just have different ideas of warm and cold.)

Haddy: You're under my blanket?
Hubby: That's the beauty of it.
Haddy: The beauty of what?
Hubby: The beauty of Roxie puking a wiener.
Haddy: It was Roxie? Not Django?
*pause*
Haddy: A WIENER?
*pause*
Haddy: You used your blanket?
Hubby: Yes. I used my blanket to catch the wiener that Roxie puked.

Laughter erupts from our bedroom at 4am.

For the record, Hubby and I cooked out last night. Hot dogs. We had some extras and I distinctly remember Hubby saying, "I'm gonna give them a hot dog." Apparently, he split a hot dog and gave each dog half. Also very apparently, Roxie chose not to chew hers.

And thus ends my story of how my dog puked a wiener.

Gosh, I don't think that'll ever get old. I can't stop laughing.

First post

Have you ever not posted for a while and then had a hard time posting ever again? Yeah. Me too. It's not that I've had a lack of things to say, it's just that I've been thinking about how to say them. I've been very introspective since coming back from vacation. There's been good drama and bad drama and just plain drama.

So, here's my break the ice post. A random story and some random pics. Enjoy.

Convo with my niece #3 last Saturday:
#3: What did you do today?
Haddy: I went to the yarn store.
#3: What yarn store?
Haddy: The dog yarn store. Only not like your dog yarn store. This one has poodles.
**aside: I know that's code, but we don't have enough time to explain that one...**
#3: Then what'd you do?
Haddy: I got my toe nails painted.
#3: What color?
Haddy: Red
#3: Did you paint your fingers?
Haddy: Nope.
#3: Then what'd you do?
Haddy: I called you.
#3: Then what'd you do?
Yup. It went like that. Someone please show #3 my toes.

I used every one of these flies yesterday. Nothing worked.

One fish liked the black one in the middle enough to take a taste, but wouldn't bite onto it.

I like my gear.

Don't tell Hubby. I should be fishing, but sometimes I stare at the cork.

The green of the trees really got to me. I took a pic, but I realized that it wasn't as vibrant as I saw it through my polarized glasses.

So my camera wore my glasses. Doesn't the light green look crazy?

Hubby had the only fish of the day.... like always. I've started to say that I'm a "western fisherwoman" because I have absolutely no game on the East Coast.

I think we're gonna be okay here...

One full week after finishing my final and I'm still exhausted. Perhaps that's because of these things:

• Spent three days in CT this weekend attending a wedding. I went to the rehearsal, rehearsal dinner, ran around all day Saturday trying to get my self suitable for public presentation, read Phillipians 4:4-9 with only a few nerves, ate three courses including the best filet I've ever had and shared a king size bed with Hubby sans dog.
  
• Sent off first draft of an 18 page report to group of big cheeses at work.
  
• Delivered another huge report to a different big cheese.
• Worked late Monday.
• Ate at Chipotle twice.
• Had brief interaction with one non-insane person where I commenced to talk my insane head off. Eek. Insanity is contagious. Lovely lunch. All too brief respite in my week.
  
• Tried on new bathing suits (they fit. check.) and made requisite preliminary trip to Target for vacay essentials, knowing full well that I will be there at least two more times before we leave.
  
• Made dinner on a weekday night for first time in a fortnight.
• Googled fortnight to see if I was lying and indeed, I was. I don't think I've made dinner in two fortnight.

I am exhausted.

The only thing that is giving me hope that I will recover soon is that at present I have 9 browser tabs open. They are:

1. gmail
2. blogger
   
3. My friend Cheryl's flickr page and her ridiculously insane gorgeous pic of my friend Beth and her Birch shawl.
4. Maryse's blog
5. Beth's blog
6. Ravelry. (um. hello?)
7. Wing of the Moth pattern
8. Douceur et Soie I cannot decide between Kidsilk Haze and D et S. Any thoughts?
9. Beth's Moth

Yarn obsession and project lust. Yeah, I think we're gonna be okay here.


(for Em: ...they have a thin candy shell.)

Done and done.

Hey dudes. Course number 3 is done. Just one more to go, but I've got 4 weeks to relish before that tsunami hits.

In the meantime... perhaps we can discuss some knitting on this blog. There is a FO in my near future....

Light at the end of the tunnel

Dudes. I'm almost done. This is all that remains:

• 15 discussion comments
• one 2-3 page paper
  
• one quiz
• one final

As of noon on Wednesday, April 23rd I will be free for approximately four weeks.

I NEED YOUR HELP!

What do I knit? I need ideas people.

I need two projects. One that is suitable for knitting on the beach (no-brainer, not wool) and one something I can wear (a summer something).

Ready, set, GO! Bring forth ideas.



Yes. I said beach as in a real beach.
As in crystal clear, warm, white sand, this-ain't-the-Cape beach.

I am alive.

Yes. I'm breathing. Fine. Alive. and tired.

I'll give you this though:

Someone referred to a certain senior level executive somewhere as
"The devil wears Talbots."

Indeed. I think most demons so wear Talbots.
It's just a little too perfect to be believed, no?
All clean and tailored on the outside, totally evil on the inside.

Happy Spring

Happy first day of spring.






I'm wearing wool knee socks.

Observations 3/9 - 3/16

• No doubt. No matter how packed your schedule is, you can always fill it with more OR I should say that someone else will fill it for you. I made it home before 8pm twice this past week and currently I'm hoping for thrice this coming week.
  
• Radiatore pasta is by far the most bliss inducing of pasta shapes. Step aside fusilli. Move over pappardelle. What, you like rotelle? It's radiatore for me all the way. I had it made for me on Thursday night and I couldn't believe that it had previously not been in my life.

I made it in another form for Hubby this afternoon. It makes me happy.

• Homework sucks.
• Post-It Flag Highlighters are indeed as cool as Oprah says.
  
• I'm fighting off the urge to abandon all current knitting projects in favor of something new. Fortunately (or unfortunately) the Wool Goddess is not making it easy for me to procure the necessary wool for any of these new projects. Message from Wool Goddess: "Haddy finish something. Anything. Seriously. Do. It."
• Season 1 of Tour of Duty does NOT include the Rolling Stones "Paint it Black" in the opening sequence. Instead it's a cheesy 80's synthesized something. Haddy and Hubby were more than disappointed. We are really, really hoping that Season Two pulls through for us. Otherwise our entire bank of childhood memories might be in question.
  

Whack-a-mole?

So last Friday, an academic likened my job to herding cats. Today, another academic said this to me:

"With the advent of this news, your job must feel strikingly similar to whack-a-mole."

WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE AND WHERE DO THEY GET THESE ANALOGIES?!

ETA: Go here to whack-a-mole.

What the fork?!

It may not be obvious in the pic above, but Hubby and I have an issue. Dinner forks. Where the fork do they go? We've got more than enough knives, spoons and salad forks. On Sunday I stood in the kitchen completely stupefied. Empty dishwasher. Not a dirty dish in the house. All silverware where it should be and yet, only 5 dinner forks. 5!

Where are our forks!?!?!?!

Probably with all the tape measures.

Full life.

I've come to the realization that I am too busy. I always knew I was busy, but I always operated under the guise of "Sure. I can find time for that." You can always make time for something you want, right?

But...

I wake at 6am, leave the house by 7:20, come home at 6pm. I require at least 8-9 hours of sleep per night. That leaves me roughly 3 hours each night of "free" time, in which I want to workout, eat, do laundry, do dishes, pack my lunch, pick out clothes for next day and when that's done: not use my brain.

Twice already this week I had this singular thought:

"How could I possibly fit that into my life?"

A friend on the train said, "Did you ever try a class at the new yoga studio?" My reply, "No." See above.

It was magic hour on my train ride home yesterday and I started thinking about photography and how I really should take a class. See above.

So I ask the question to the void:

How does one live a full life when you can't do it all?

Don't answer that. I'll just hate on you if you've got it figured out.

200

This is my 200th post. 200! I wrote this post over a week ago, but decided to save it for 200.

I'm thinking about blogging today. It's so weird isn't it?

I started blogging as a way to post pics of my knitting for my family. There's only so much gushing that Hubby can do. He's super supportive, but I just can't expect him to wig out and dance every time I turn a heel. And lets be honest. Sometimes a mastered knitting skill requires a big ol' "w00t!" I needed a place to show my parents and friends my woolly stuffs, because you know, nobody's gonna gush better than your my mom.

There are many cool byproducts of having a blog (new friends, new projects, inspiration, etc.), but the thing that has me thinking today is the writing and maintaining relationships through blogging. I've never boasted of being a writer. It's a rather draining and self-conscious process for me. I can never do my thoughts and feelings justice in words. Doesn't work. Never happens as it should. But there's something about writing without having a sense of the intended reader. It's not personal. I'm just sending some random bits out into the internet soup for whomever cares to look.

Before blogging, to keep in touch with my friends I would email (or I would try). An email goes to one person, unless you're doing that dreaded mass email thing (Thank God we stopped doing that). You tailor your words to the recipient. Friend A hears about X part of your life. You make judgments about who hears what depending on previous experiences. When you have a blog, everybody hears everything you wish to publish. All your friends get to read about the big stuff in your life, but they also get some of the minutia. We blog about the mundane in our life because sometimes it's too scary/dangerous to put what's really happening out there. But relationships are built and maintained with the mundane.

When I was in the relationship building business, it was drilled into my scull that relationships are based on 1. shared interests and 2. shared experiences. If you were lacking in shared interests, you created an experience to share. So, when I graduated from college and all my friends scattered in the wind, it was pretty damn hard for us to share experiences without involving a plane ticket and $$$. We talked once or twice a year. We caught up on each others' lives with the "got marrieds" and "moveds" of our lives. The big stuff. But that kind of stuff isn't really the interesting part of being human. It's the smaller things that matter most. Something about love/life is in the details...

I never would have guessed that writing about wool and greyhounds and in general being my silly self would ever have helped me to meet new people and strengthen old friendships. I never thought that my affection for others would grow so much by hearing of others' hobbies and reading their thoughts put into words. I never thought I'd get joy from being a fly on the wall of my friends' lives. I never thought that publishing the impersonal bits of my life be bring such personal rewards.

Blogging is indeed so weird.

Tape Measures

Tape measures are little fockers, no?

I buy this little guy at lunch today because I haven't been able to find the other two for months.


Then I come home and within 5 minutes I find them in separate locations.


Cheeky little fockers.

Don't even get me started on needle guages.

Do work, son.

Lately my life has been all school and work. The school part? Eh, that was ok. This second class was a lot better than the first. Engaging topic. Lots of work. Not enough time.

The work part? Well, the work part has been pretty dang good. I've had a steady stream of new projects and responsibilities coming my way this Fall. Building new relationships, new partnerships and strengthening old ones. I've gained a little more autonomy and had a little more fun.

My "old" projects are progressing. What I really mean is that they are growing up, quite literally.


I've had a few opportunities to see this project close up and each time it gives my such a thrill. A friend captured the image below. That's me in the foreground with gesturing mitten.

... and wouldn't it be great if I could say I had knit that mitten? Alas, I did not.

Hi! It's me, Haddy.

*tap, tap, tap*

Is this thing on?

*squelch*

Anybody out there?

I am done with my class. (Did the balloons and confetti just fall from the ceiling and cover your keyboard as well?) Phew. It's been a rough couple months. Yesterday I took my exam, survived the drive home through the storm and made dinner for Hubby. Dinner consisted of homemade pizza and appetizers that included bacon. Bacon = Happy Hubby.

I owe him bacon and then some. He's had to deal with my anxiety and frantic thoughts and actions. He's also had to do all the cleaning, cooking and laundry - AND he's had to deal with my critiques of his efforts. He's a good, good man.

We had a nice night together. He ate little bacon snacks and did dances of delight in the kitchen. We "did work" on the driveway and shoveled all the snow away like good kids homeowners.

I'm not quite sure what to do with myself yet. I did knit a little on Hubby's sweater last night. I've been trying to decide what to knit in my month off from school. I definitely have to finish Hubby's sweater. Maybe I should start something for me? I think I need some wool fumes to jog my creativity.