Blink and you'll miss it

Under the wire here, squeeking in the daily post by the skin of my nose. Yesterday ended this morning at two a.m., and today began six-ish, with a very small, alert toddler gingerly trying to pull up my eyelids..."you 'wake, Mom?" It seemed he was thirsty, and I am the only train to the kitchen; he knows Daddy can not be prodded from leaving a warm bed unless it's on fire.

Lots of help from Rob today, though I still cannot make the scanner talk to the computer, nor can I seem to download photos. Agh. Not that anyone really wants to see piles of Rowan yarn laying about the store. Horrid mess. String everywhere, books, too. What a nightmare. Today was agonizingly slow, though the day picked up considerably at the tail end, when a brand new customer came in and ordered up ten yards of fabric. The fiber fates had their way with me when, right as she left, with the smile still upon my lips, in came a couple of meanies. You 'member the other day when I got ragged out about not selling "cheap fabric". I think these two women were the training team for those whiners. They wanted cloth to make a tote for a grand-daughter, for her twenty-first birthday. I was informed they had never paid nine dollars for a yard of anything, and weren't about to start now. I wonder if the grand-daughter knows just how special she is. Of course she does. Just a few minutes left before this post is officially tardy, so I'm off to watch the snow fly till the meds kick in. G'night, knittas.

Completely unhinged

The past twenty five (or so) hours have been crazy. Knit-night was a busy one for me, and I now have a new appreciation for the visiting knitter and her quick-study sis (who is most commonly referred to as "Typhoid Tif" here at Becher Haus... we love you Tif...smooches) when faced with teaching seasoned knitters toe-up sock construction. Robin (from now on referred to as Rob) saved the day, and the hellish/freaky ice storm that occured sort of interrupted my getting to play with the new camera last night. Today was going to be the day I "got to it", but the UPS man showed up with six boxes of Rowan/Nashua yarns, and a terrifically heavy box of pattern books and sample garments. That stuff pretty much ate up the rest of the day, though I did manage a pissy phone call to my rep when only half the kidsilk haze showed up... he's tracking the rest down.
Also to add to the happy chaos, super-stitcher Anne (she says she's not blogless any more, but I don't have a link to her yet) has agreed to build me a website, and not a crappy one, either. Now I just have to run it past the man, but if I keep having days like the past few, there shouldn't be too long a wait for Clementine's Dry Goods dotcom. Would you shop there? Oh, and one of you needs to tell me if you want your yarn split out, because I think it should be, but it's yours, not mine and I'm trying to give up the control-freak stuff. I meant to mail it out ages ago (well, Monday, 'cuz that's when I re-located your addy... I'm a scatter-brained ass... please e-mail me. xxooxx)
Gotta go throw dinner at the kids. Please go tell her to get her butt to the shop, because she's sorely missed. Also, if you're on Ravelry, redrhonda may be feeling puny (I know, six-foot tall girls so rarely get the opportunity...) so well wishes for her... and I'm splitting out what kidsilk I can tomorrow for the KAL kits. Bye for now. C

Lest you think I don't pay attention

In the past week I've gotten lots of lovely comments, but for some reason blogger doesn't let me post comments to some of you. I've got answers for you, and a few recipes as well, and though it's nearly one in the morning, I have to do something till the Xanax kicks in... it's too dimly lit in here for thirty more rounds of sock. Alright then. Here we go:
D-fly - the negative space left by the Christmas tree is currently occupied by a rug. That's it. No bells, whistles, or gew-gaws. When the house was designed, that space was supposed to house a "telephone table", but our builder neglected to place a phone jack there. We considered hiring it done, but the reality of five children and their noise being funnelled down the stairs made it seem like a pretty lame place to keep a phone... or a writing desk... or a chair. Joe and Eli discovered throwing hot wheels over the railing. The chair now resides at the shop. Secondly, we'll be swinging through Milwaukee the Tues/Wed before Easter. Mebbe we have a blog meet at Loop's new location? I haven't gotten to see it yet. Lastly, here's the baked potato soup recipe you asked for. Feel free to modify at will:

2 sticks butter
2 to 4 onions, diced fine ( or run thru food processor)
saute onion in butter till onions are clear, add
1/2 c. flour to make roux (I use a little more)
with a rounded tbsp chicken base ("Better than Boullion" brand) in
a qt. of hot water.
Blend well, adding more chicken 'stock' to thin as needed.
Add ten (or so) baked, cooled, skinned, cubed potatoes
2 tsp basil
dash of white pepper
1/2 tsp tobasco sauce
You can add whole milk or 1/2&1/2 to thin soup if it becomes too thick during simmering(twenty minutes or so)
Garnish with crumbled bacon, sour cream, fresh chives or green onions, shredded cheddar. Roll away from table before you burst. Enjoy!

Thimbleanna - the tater-tot casserole recipe is an embarrasment, but since you're on a strict pre-wedding diet, I shall post it in case you're into church-supper food porn right now. I know I always am... what keeps me girlish figger in check. (snort)
Brown one and 1/2 to 2 pounds ground beef, drain off the greasy bits (not that it'll help. seems a bit pointless, really, when you see all the soup you'll be adding)
I usually chuck in a bit of onion, if there's any laying around (say half of one)
Spray a casserole dish with pam and layer half a bag (the big bag, not the sissy-sized ones) of tots. Mix meat with two cans cream of mushroom soup, a can's worth of milk, a tbsp Worchestershire sauce, and a pinch of garlic powder and pepper. Pour it over the tots and put the other half a bag on top. (here's where I toss it in the roasting oven of the AGA, so you'd better put it into a 425 preheated oven, then turn it down to 375 after 10-15 minutes) Bake till it's all bubbly around the edges and the top tots are deeply golden brown. Gross, huh? Know what's grosser? It's divine with Mrs. Butterworth's syrup on top... just a slight drizzle... the faintest trickle.
Hmmmm... what else was I going to answer? It'll come to me in my sleep, but for now I need to be heading to bed. And I forgot to buy a photo card for the dummy camera, so I'll mess with everything photo-related this evening at knit night. After I run around all day, messing with flyers and nails and getting more sock and sweater done. G'night all. C
P.S. I just remembered. Melly is blaming me for the duck farts... it's all Phyl's doing. I can only claim the adjustment to the basic recipe (half ounces of Bailey's, Kahlua, and whiskey)... put a scoop of vanilla ice cream in it, instead of "rocks". You'll be a much happier drunk, trussme...hic

Pajama, interrupted

As most of you know, Mondays are 'pajama day' at Becher Haus. Today was a little bit different, and decidedly more productive. I'd recieved a phone call from a woman last week, asking if I'd be willing to let her and a pal come shop on Monday, the day I'm not in the shop at all. They had scheduling difficulties, one was leaving the country for three months, and they were just dying to see the Westminster fabrics they'd heard about. I agreed, mostly for the curiosity of seeing who was hunting down Kaffe and Amy, and to find out how they'd heard about Clementine's. I could not have imagined what my morning would be like.

I arrived at the shop a little ahead of schedule, so I slipped over to Benjamin's for a decaf and the most food-p0rnographicly delicious cheese danish cinnamon bun (you have no idea), then I trotted back to the shop, where the ladies arrived just moments later. I cut fabric for them and chatted with them for about two hours, and they both scored two free yards of fabric on their fabric cards. When the dust settled and they were tucked away in their car, the sales total nearly knocked me over... $467.34. Two shoppers. Two hours. On pajama day. I may never stay in my pajamas again.

Got a new, cheapie little digital camera today, so expect pics on tomorrow's post. I got goodies in the mail today, there should be more, perhaps tomorrow (Sockpixie yarn, in 'candy corn'), and these caramels should arrive Wednesday. Saw them on Jan's blog and haven't stopped drooling since. So, I've had a really full day, and it feels like a Tuesday, 'cuz I got dressed and put on mascara and all, so I'm going to go sit and knit awhile, while the new camera battery charges. Thimbleanna, I finally remembered the rodent lagomorph (I got that outta the dictionary. I was going to use lapin, but lagomorph just sounded more mysterious.) pattern. Oldest daughter has been appropriating knitting books/magazines and re-routing them to her lair, and it took awhile to scrounge it up. It's in my "pile o'stuff" for tomorrow's trip into town (where the scanner lives.)
Melly made up fliers and sent it directly to Kinko's, so tomorrow I'll be distributing them wildly. I do adore That Crocker Woman, and I take back everything I said about her being off her game when she's medicated... she still works just fine, y'all. Gotta go for now. Photo-heavy post tomorrow night. Be here or be knitting. Latah. C

Lodging difficulties

There is a dark day looming on the horizon. 'Boris' has some time off in late March, so I suggested we take a trek around the family units in our usual, circuitous way. The problem arises on leg two of our journey, better known as "the fiasco and folly of visiting my parents". See, my 'rents have not one, but four cats. Bad, obnoxious cats that do things like pee on the bathmat, or in your shoes, or whatever got left on the laundry room floor. And then there's their 'puppy'... a bona fide sled dog, who doesn't like short people (ie: children) and who cannot even be let outdoors without her harness and tow rope on. The tow rope has to be tied to an actual human, usually my 250 (or so) pound dad. She takes him for a drag, and then, satisfied she's been a good sled dog (she was trained to run the Bear Grease race, I believe), comes indoors where she appropriates the only comfortable piece of furniture my parents own... the sofa.

I've been at this computer all night, trying to find accommodations that aren't a.) in/over/near a bar or bait shop, b.) have staffing that actually cleans the rooms/changes sheets/scrubs toilets, and c.) has suites of rooms that adjoin each other, as we are a family of seven, and certain requirements have to be met... four beds, minimum, a kitchenette, and/or room service, preferably in a hotel that doesn't close it's kitchen from 7p to 7a.m. I'm at an impasse, people. There isn't a single hotel/motel/ B&B/or cheesy little inn that can accommodate us. I'm going to look further up the coastline tomorrow. There seem to be a few B&Bs in the Bayfield/Washburn area that might not make me puke. I'm going to go take more beddy-bye meds and hopefully sleep will knock me over in short order.

You know this will be a fiber-exploration trip, as well. Once we get to the Minneapolis leg of our journey, I'll get to scope out the shop "Borealis Yarns", which happens to be around the corner from youngest sil's home. Naturally we're going to meet El Baby... but there's yarrrn, too. Yum-o. Milwaukee-area shops will be hit, and I'm going to do my best to scope out fabric/fiber in Iowa as well. Btw, this means Clementine will be absent from the shop March 18th through the 25th, so plan accordingly... unless of course I have helpers who want to seize the empire and control it for a week. Perhaps that young Ms. Templeman? We shall see... good night, all ye knitters. C

The Daily Trauma

All the news that's fit to print. Well, not news exactly. More like I dragged some gas company representative away from his cozy cottage and made him sleuth out a gas leak at Clementine's. The funniest part is, it wasn't a gas leak at all, but an old, unused sink in the tiny room under the stairs (for those who've actually been in the shop, it's the other door in the loo) that had evaporated all the water out of the trap and it was sewer gas filling the store. Gag. Some dish soap and two pots of hot water later, all is well. The sewing classes went as planned, though I really have to get someone in on Saturdays from now on. I can't cut fabric for (or talk fast enough to) everyone to fill orders and answer questions. It was a good day, though, aside from all the stink and scare and chaos.

Gaylen, I have a fussy bit of yarn that quite vocally informed me that it would much prefer living in the pacific northwest to this bitter cold we're having here. I showed it your blog entries about the furnace not working and the four pooches, and all the dishes that could potentially break, but it wants to take it's chances. I'll be scrawling your addy on an envelope Monday, so start planning your next pair of socks. 'Mouthy Yarn' is a terrifically, girly pink, but alas seems to be in the throes of teenager-dom... probably you'll require a fifth of bourbon to sufficiently get a pair knitted. It's some of Lotusknitter's semi-solid yarn. You'll melt when you see it, I promise.

My best news of the day is the man did about seven loads of laundry, had the kids put away the tree (finally... I was considering plastering it with Valentines and paper doilies), and the floors have all been vacuumed and wiped. The hall closet door even shuts now, and I have no clue how he got that to happen. I've got to get busy looking busy, 'cuz I feel awfully guilty about playing here on the blog. He even had dinner ready when I got home... how cool is that? Type at y'all later. C

into the fire

The shop today was all about knitting, or kah-nittin', as Marilyn calls it. If it hadn't been for Harriet and Robin, I'd have been sunk. When the UPS man dropped a box of fabric off, they had it all stripped of it's plastic, primped and stood on a shelf neatly waiting to be noticed. Thanks you guys. I'm sorry Rob didn't get further on her socks sock that she started today (yay, Rob's coming over to the dark side!!!)... I only mention it because we (Harriet and me) had her going two-at-a-time, toe-up, but she wanked out and pulled sock #2 off the needles. I'm only letting this go 'cuz she steps up and saves my rear pretty often these days, and I like that she comes in to the shop to make sure I'm still alive. She also knows how to "make register go", and now Harriet has fallen into that trap as well... I can put off having to be cloned now. Whew. I was sorta worried how 'Boris' would afford having all those other "me"s around. (Yes, I realize that's not actually a word; that's what the quote-y ma jigs are for.)

The word on the street is the kits for the "modern quilt wrap" will be available this coming week, though if you're waiting to see a finished one, redRhonda (aka the stuntknitter) hasn't had a chance at the "kidsilk-crack" yet. If you haven't reserved yours, call or e-mail me and I'll mail it out to you. If you or you are worried, I already have you down for it. If you are you , you need to call me once you're feeling better. I need flyers in the worst way imaginable and you're the only one who can talk me through it do it for me. See, I believe honesty is the best policy, so if you're out of the bathroom now, I need your mad skilz. And, btw, your Valentine's rock, Miss Melly. I'm so glad you finally posted again... I was so gonna rag on you about that cake, makin' me all hungry and whatnot.

Okay, I have to get outta here and go be a mom/wife/laundress/knitting blob on the sofa/eater of chocolate/watcher of movies. And there's only three hours till bedtime. Today was so crazy-busy, and tomorrow the skill-builder workshops begin. Out of the frying pan... see you back here tomorrow. C

A sleeve is done

Remember the "rocketry" sweater that I blew through? Got the body done in a day? Yup. It was a flash in the pan, because my knitting dried up for the next week (or two?). Except today I had the foresight to haul the wee sweater with me to the doc's office and now have one sleeve finished. One to go, but there are two episodes... two new episodes... of "Chuck" on tonight, so this may complicate my knitting, as I'll be all "eyes front" and my stitches may suffer.

I have to go stock up on Xanax now, and I was running too far behind to drop it off this morning. Sitting in the doc's office, knitting, don'tcha know. Things are getting busy here in the shop, and all day I've heard how I need to stock fabrics like the Amish do, because their prices are sooo much better, and how come I don't stock American-made fabric, instead of all this stuff from Japan and Korea? (To which I hearby reply, if you want cheap, it has to come from China or Mexico, because the American mills dried up eons ago.) I didn't start this shop to cater to 'cheap'. That's "JoAnn's" job. This is strictly pleasure, baby. Now, what can I get for you?

Strawberry lip balm

That is what the two-year-old decided to glam himself up in this evening, while life at Becher Haus carried on around him. He's now been showered, scrubbed with the decidedly delicious "Spa Wisdom" salt scrub and exfoliating wash, and is now passing out on my lap... I am, in fact, blogging single-handedly.
Today marked the second day in a row someone has come in and offered to work at the shop. If only I could afford to hire someone, then ol' Clementine would really be in business. This weekend marks the beginning of the "skill builder" series; a collection of classes that open the door to patchworking perfection. I've even had one phone call about it. My 'happy chaos' class is still finishing up, so I'm going in to be cloned tomorrow morning. Er, wait... that's just for more Xanax. Properly dispensed, this may be just as good a solution. Ooh, what a "Pollyanna" I am today. (I smell marvelous, though. That Body Shop Africa Spa salt scrub rules.)
I have to go now. For some reason I've been having killer dizzy-spells the past few days, and another one just got going. Perhaps I'm boring myself to death with this 'blogging 366' thing I was so hot and bothered to do. If the biggest news of my day is that Eli globbed lip gloss all over himself, can this blog be going anywhere but down hill? p.s. the pink squirrel rode around on my head all day... I was terribly cute. Lotta's swag is super-fun. She even sent me a cutesy big button ring, but since I have Miss Piggy fingers (though with cleverly painted whorey nails), I gave it to my twelve-year-old. It's suitably punk for her. Gotta go, as it's getting late.
p.p.s. My man has taken up knitting, and he's freaking great at it. He could not stand watching me watch the Lucy Neatby DVDs (love them) and he had to get involved. I just outed him on my blog... tee-hee.

Kindly avoid this post if you are terribly sensitive

Pink Squirrel arrived in today's mail. It is now firmly affixed to my head and I'm not taking it off for any reason. It's my little oasis of happiness in an otherwise terribly frustrating day. Since I've warned everyone to leave if foul language offends, I shall now launch into my pissy rant about PayPal. You see, I've been offered the opportunity to purchase handpainted yarns from a small company that collects their funds via this system. Not a problem. I didn't have an account, so I promptly began to set one up.
Imagine my startled surprise when the fucktard computer system informed me I have an existing account, with a "work phone" in a very distant area code, that indeed I do not live at my current address of seven-plus years, and that I should give up now, because there wasn't a bat-shit's chance I was getting into the system to pay my supplier.
Oh for fuck-sakes, Norma. (That is how I always use this word, in my brain, where Other People can't hear. I first encountered it on her blog. I love it's perfect simplicity, it's absence of pretense, it's utterly British feel.) Anyway, I'm waiting to hear from said supplier to see if they have a work-around for this problem. PayPal has been sent a scathing e-mail, to their fraud department. I am off to eat a giant cheeseburger, and then it's off to knit-night, where I will eat macaroons and drink hot beverages, and knit. Sorry if I 'offended' anyone, but you were warned... can't say I don't play fair, now, can you? Type at y'all knittas latah. C

Happy Rosa Parks day

I refuse to celebrate the death of a deeply flawed man who simply rode the coat-tails of sister Rosa Parks. So, for Rosa, I will accept the fact that I won't get my daily dose of mail-order catalogs and credit card offers today. I also accept that a trip to the bank would be futile, as they are enjoying the freedom from work a "bank holiday" affords the bank's employees. I will even reasonably accept, when I venture forth into the deep-freeze that is outdoors to go to the grocery, that today the stores will be crowded with all the people who would normally be somewhere else... like at a job. What I'm having a problem with is all the traffic on Verizon making my air-card slow as sh*t, because all the kids who attend government day care tax-funded warehousing of children "school" are home, clogging up the Internets. Just because somebody had to go and have a dream. I have a dream too. It's called give credit where it's due, and take adulterers off their crumbling pedestals.

On the upside, I can't stop giggling about the newpaper article and how I'm now getting calls at home from complete strangers about when my shop's hours are. I'm also ridiculously thrilled about the comments made by Thimbleanna on her blog about me. Words like "hoot" and "knitting goddess" are making me impossible to live with. (Need a plate out of the cupboard? Sorry. I am a knitting goddess and therefore am too busy performing my needle arts to bother assisting a mere mortal. Bah!) It was great fun having her stop by the shop and I can not stop grinning about her post. I don't blush easily, if ever, so this is a big deal for me. Seriously.

Now I need to scrub head-injury boy (Eli) who took quite a tumble down some stairs last night. He's fine, but a bit scrumbly looking. The arnica gel helped the bash over his eye not to bruise. We have a few klutzes here at Becher Haus, which is why the stairs were designed with double landings... no one ever has to fall more than seven stairs, and he only rolled down five last night. What does it say about my kids that I'm okay with that? Or could it be my glowing MOTY award on that shelf over there? Type at y'all later. A deep-freeze trip looms on our horizon. C

Blogger just ate my whole friggen' post

and I'm tired, and now extremely pissed as well. To re-recap, but faster this time, muh knittah Robin came to the rescue and helped out, and didn't kill Joe when he was an ass, and learned the point-of-sale gew-gaws and whizbangs. Today was indeed a busy and fruitful day... in more ways than one. We'll just say the day got off to a slow and very odd beginning, but it improved radically once the pizza arrived. That seems to be the magic formula. Have food delivered and you'll get too busy to eat it (at least not while it's anywhere near warm). Hmmmm. Could be the makings of a "'fun and profitable" diet? Doubtful, since I'm quickly becoming accustomed to room temp chow.
In related news, a new knitter was created today. She made quick work of casting on, and left after showing proficiency in both the knit and purl stitches. She lives one block from the shop. I know. She doesn't even get how cool that is yet... but she will. But now, as 'Boris' has to be up at four a.m. for work (yep. he knows exactly how crappy that is... he wanted to stay up to see Green Bay's final score.) I need to stop tippy-tapping here and round up the kids for bedtime scrubbings. I hope you all are having a fab evening, and thank you for all the wonderful well-wishes in my comment box. I adore you all! Until tomorrow. C
Psst... yeah you... Melly finished her sock... go look!

Full color spread

Today was the day. The newspaper article about the shop ran on the front cover of the "Accent" section, the upper 2/3rds of the page, with another third (plus another color photo) on page 3. Good "advertising", but I really got my butt kicked. I did more in sales today than last week's total. I'm spending the rest of the night on my little heating pad, after I take a very hot, excessively long shower. My quilt class suffered benign neglect because of all the "press" today. I'm guessing it'll be more of the same tomorrow. Saturdays and Sundays used to be the "why am I even here?" days. We'll see if the newspaper article changes that. I'm a little afraid. Lil' fat girl about ran her ass off today. I'm wearing my Mary Janes and my super-loose jeans tomorrow. If it's slow, I can curl up on the sofa and pretend I'm in jammies. The heating pad is going with me. As are the frosted cookies (again, sorry Steph, you weight-losing machine!),and a bottle of Excedrin. And the Xanax, though I didn't need it today.
I loved meeting all the new customers who kept pouring into the shop. Crazy busy= fun. (It also equals sore backside, though, so I'm off to that hot shower.) Keep your crossables crossed that business continues to pick up. I'm all about that. And the man has spied a house in town, a easy walk from the shop, that we might go look at this week. Imagine that... forced exercise, and we could ditch our huge house payment and a truck. I might be all about that, too. Things to ponder... latah, knittas. C

How do you make a duck fart?

I don't know, but Phyllis is going to find out the ratios. A "duck fart" is a drink made with at least three kinds of liquor (was it Bailey's, vodka, and bourbon?)...stayed tuned for the details. I hear they were all the rage at her house over the holiday season. Personally I can't wait to make a duck fart. (Can you even say that without giggling? I can't.)

Today's SMA award goes to Robin. Robin came in for the earlier part of the day, to hang with me, but mostly to meet Thimbleanna. I need to preface the rest of this paragraph with the following statement: At no time were any children in danger, or at risk of bodily harm, and the nature of the neglect is to be considered, well, negligible. It could happen to anybody. Today it just happened to happen to Eli. Today must have been an uber-busy day for 'Boris' and his offspring, because he brought the kids into the shop and rushed out the door, hurrying to get to the only paying gig this household knows. As it happens, we still have a two-year-old in diapers 1.) because we are lazy and 2.) I refuse to spend part or all of any of my days left on this Earth waiting for a kid to poop or pee "on the potty". We have five children. Four of them are not wearing diapers. Obviously my method works eventually. The downside to having kids at the shop is occasionally they need things brought from home. Things like diapers. I'm not gigging the man because he didn't bring any today; he usually never does. It's just today Eli managed to pee out of his diaper and that wonderful Robin ran to the store for another package. How cool is she? I know, right? So, actually she didn't just save my "arse", she saved Eli's, too. Would that make it an SEA award, instead? Dunno, but she's deserving something... maybe yarn?

Thimbleanna showed some interest in magic loop, and perhaps toe-ups. Gaylen, do you feel compelled to nip this in the bud warn her before I corrupt yet another knitter? *giggle-snort* She did leave the shop with some 2mm addi Turbos in the 40" variety. She's brewing, y'all. We'll just have to wait and see what happens. Oh how I wish she didn't live hours away. That woman is super-talented and just the sort of brain I need to be picking about so many, many things.
Okay, I have to go into the kitchen and magic up some grub... tonight's special is "tater-tot casserole", for which the man has already browned the meat. No pink squirrel in the mail today. Yes, I am pouting, but there's always tomorrow, and we're waiting on fabric and the Rowan order as well. Lots to look forward to. Latah, knittas. C

I bought a squirrel

Just the other day I was catching up on some of my blog reading and spotted some stuff on Lotta's blog that I wanted. Real.Bad. The problem was I was already Xanaxed and ready for bed, it was after midnight, and "reason" (the tiny, oft-ignored part of my brain) reared up at the last minute to spoil my fun by pointing out how spending twenty-some odd dollars for three decorated bobby pins was probably not the swellest plan I'd had, and shouldn't I just go to bed?

I did eventually pass out, but visions of darling little squirrels ran up and down trees in my woozy brain. The hold up was I wanted the red squirrel and the pink squirrel, but not the wheelbarrow, which is the hairpin being sold with the pink squirrel. Little red squirrel was all on his own. If only I could have her put the happy little squirrels together, then I'd buy them.

Fast forward to the following evening (last night). I click on over to Lotta's blog, get into her Etsy shop, and the red squirrel is gone. Ffffft. Outta there. In a panic I clicked on pink squirrel, and who cares if I'm stuck bribing one of the girls to wear a strange wheelbarrow hairpin... I will have a pink squirrel stuck in my hair and I'm absolutely tickled. He'll be here any day... maybe even tomorrow. And for those of you counting, I did mean to use the word squirrel(s) ten times in this post. Gotta go now. The floor wants vacuuming and there might be a blogger dropping by sometime in my near future... stay tuned. C

Waffle Wednesday

Today was a fabulous day at Clementine's. Redrhonda finished seaming up her "Arietta" cardigan. It was a sight to behold. I'd link to her Ravelry page, but I'm afraid I'd crash the thing. If you're curious though, go check out her spot on Ravelry... she's "redrhonda", and you'll have quite a time looking through her que. Ask her how many yards of yarn she has stashed. I'm shocked and appalled. Aghast. Mortified. And deeply, horribly jealous. Of course, I'm not going to tally mine up. Anything involving spreadsheets, or measuring, or math... nope. Not this day. Know why? Because this day was
WAFFLE WEDNESDAY!
Yeah, I meant to holler that, right at your eyeballs. That Crocker Woman received a marvelous gift from her man this Christmas. A gift made of sturdy steel, with wiring and thermostat gew-gaws... a gift that spits out plate-sized Belgian waffles. Waffles so yummy they smell like sugar cones. Waffles with wells so deep you could lose a small child in them. Waffles so big they could cover a small country. Waffles that are now my new obsession. I just have to figure out how to get Melly to make me more. Hmmmm. Something to ponder. I ate two of them there waffles, dripping in syrup and butter. Then I was told that "normal people" are satisfied with 1/2 a waffle, and that a whole one is pushing it. Obviously I am well above average in my appetites.
Now, since I've been gone the whole day, I'm off to sit quietly with the man and the youngest Becher. Type at y'all latah. C

Just another day...

and all I have to show for it is (um, drumroll, please): a fresh manicure, four new shirts and two pair of jeans, new makeup (and the staff at the Lancome counter were friendly and quick), a couple of books, and in the buy two, get one free video sale at Barnes & Noble I scored "Keeping Mum" as one of my titles. No more waiting on Netflix... I own my own copy, thank you very much.
I managed to get all the mall stuff done in less than an hour, with about another half hour killed in the bookstores ( I went to two, seeing as I was unfettered by the offspring), and on the way home I got to get Chic-fil-a, because the cheeseburger socialists weren't in the car, and then I was in and out of the grocery so fast I made myself dizzy. Those U-Scans are great. I had to get cream cheese, since my twelve year old is making carrot cake. How much does her mommy love her?
I'm off to knit night later this evening, where I hope to get one of the tiny sleeves finished. I completed the sweater body and button band yesterday (my first completed one ever, with no swearing or anything...almost), and had planned on skipping knit night tonight, because of tomorrow's "girl's night out". The problem with canceling a regular night thing is not everyone gets the 'memo' and then someone calls and says they need help. So, I'm going in, because I couldn't say no to a knitter. The truly pathetic thing is I didn't even send out invites for the girl's night out, because 'Boris' accidently threw them out, so I'm not sure how many are coming to the spa party. Free foot soaks and exfolliations at Clementine's if you're in the neighborhood of 66 S. Water St. in Franklin Wednesday night! Gotta get ready, and youngest son needs lap-time with mom before she disappears again. Latah. C

Supermom

I was up early this morning, eager to continue knitting on the wee tiny "Rocketry" sweater for the shop. I ground the beans and brewed the joe, I curled up on the loveseat, and settled in to work for awhile in the quiet darkness of the new day. This set up was, unfortunately, not the most conducive to seeing my stitches (yeah, where my stitches at?), so I reached over to snap on the table lamp. Ping. Out went the light bulb. After realizing once again my brain's kinetic abilities to throw switches and retrieve small objects are nil, I hauled my fat little self up and turned on the overheads, but dimmed, nice and soft. Ahhh. Better. Up to grab a mug of coffee and as soon as I sit down again, blink, out goes the power to the whole living room. Power surges. The upside to this whole scenario was I made myself a comfortable bunker in the big 'chair and a half' instead, with the heating pad, and there's way better light on that side of the house. I've knitted off and on all day, and am knitting the button band now (yay, me) and I didn't even skip the goofy 'braid" trim... I've done it all by the book pattern. Exactly as it's written, and only correcting the obvious flaws typos and I'm eager to have it all finished. Tuesdays is fer runnin', ya know. I have to make this evening count.

By the way, as an actual sash-wearing, crown-capped "Mother-of-the-Year" sovereign in the twelfth year of her reign, you might be curious what my children did all day while I knitted. As the power to the Wii was out until daddy got home to wrestle the hand-sized spiders in the basement for control of the breaker-box, they made their own fun. Eli and Joe played house-golf, using the legs of the Lego table as clubs, and oversize ping pong balls as, well, the balls. Maddie made boiled eggs for me, and read up in her room all day, and Lilly drew at the table while Mitchell built weird men out of homemade play dough... he even made them clothes. In different colors. With shoes that matched. And I didn't hear a complaining word out of any of them. Not for the entire day. Benign neglect paid off. Now I'm off to eat my dinner, and finish that sweater. Latah, knittas. C

Letter From Home

The kids are watching a wildlife show on television. I walk in to get Eli dressed and ready for his day with me in the shop only to find him eating a cookie. A chocolate chip cookie. The very sort of cookie we haven't had in this house for at least two weeks. Yeah, that kind of cookie. Little dude is feeding himself furniture food. I thought we'd only laid in provisions of the M&M, Fruit Loop, and honey-roasted peanut variety in the sofa cushions, but here is the youngest among us happily chowing down on a dehydrated cookie, of substantial proportions. And to think I was worried about getting snowed in. All we have to do is follow the baby around, as he visits his caches of food.

Well, it's getting to be that time of the morning, when I have to begin trying to blast Oldest Daughter out of bed. The most effective method is to send the Middle Son in after her, as they are arch enemies and she defends her territory fiercely against the six-year-old marauder. That's my cue to holler "since you're up, how 'bout getting dressed so we can leave?" and then I get to giggle at the bottom of the stairs as she stomps into the bathroom. She doesn't have the proper DNA to pull off a realistic temper-tantrum, but her drama queen routine is fabulous.

Yesterday one of my quilting students had her husband bring me some shelves. They are fantastic, free-standing, and fully adjustable. They are also white coated wire, and will look quite lovely with yarn stuffed in them. They stand about four feet high, and are about 18"x30" (roughly... I haven't actually measured them yet. I was too busy cooing to them.) Today I'm giving them a little bath, and moving them about the shop to see what their best angles are. All four of them. If I told you they were practically free, you'd faint... but they were. Just a little New Year's miracle. Kind of like how I'm still keeping up with this blogging daily thing. If only this counted as exercise. *sigh* Okay, I've got to get everyone ready to leave. The snow has stopped, but now it's foggy out. Ugh. Perfect driving weather conditions. Latah, crafty mamas. C
(eta: the wire shelving units measure 19"x24.5". They are perfect.)

Obligatory Post

I have a two week reprieve on getting the mountain of paperworky stuff all in order, and, though Darling Deb has offered to do the sorting herself, I liken this to cleaning before the maid arrives. I am a master of paper-clutter. I have other, more colorful faults, but this is the one that keeps burning my bum.
Progress will hopefully be made on the tiny sweater tonight. There is a "Mr. Bean" video awaiting the kids' attention. I should be able to knit like a fiend through that. It's the "Eureka" discs I can't knit during. Don't want to miss anything. Okay, I'm going home now. 'Boris' has made pasta for dinner (sorry, Steph!) and my slow day needs to die a natural death. Latah, knittas.

And another thing...

This was going to be a post full of hopeful things, but I'm in the midst of a paperwork mountain, and tomorrow morning is when Deb wants all the mountain handed to her, in a molehill of a file box (which is nowhere near big enough, I'd like to add), so she can begin the gargantuan task of sorting out all that is Clementine's from all that is Camilla's. Also, there is the matter of sales tax what wants paid, so I don't end up in prison for my alter-ego's fiasco entrepreneurial escapade.

This morning I met with one of those fabric pushers; I bought a little, including a couple of specimens of the vinyl-coated fabric for tote bags, picnic blankets, splat-mats, bibs, etc. I love the stuff, but it's hard to find pretty prints. As it is "experimental" (I was told the coated fabrics don't sell well. I find this hard to quantify, as I've personally never seen it for sale locally, so HOW do "they" know?), I only bought two types. A basic, celery-green with nickle-sized white polka-dots (did I just set a record for hyphens in a sentence?) and a large rose print on a blue background, ala Cath Kidston, but being ripped off on this side of the pond by someone working as "Urban Chicks". It's a good knock-off, though. Cath should be pleased, if she takes that whole "imitation=flattery" equation to heart. Conversely, how do you copyright a style?

I also bought sheeting. For those of you not savvy to this little wonder of the textile world, sheeting is the upgrade from basic quilting cotton. It has a sateen-type finish, like good sheets, and is available in the wider width of 54", so it can be used to make bedding for children. I bought some aqua/brown polka-dotted, and some with pink polka-dots and cupcakes, and a multi-colored dot. Yeah, it was dot day. I got a couple of fabric collections, too, but I'll just surprise you with them once they arrive. The nature of this particular fabric company is their tendency to be quick on the draw. You don't have a chance at getting entire collections if you hesitate, and I'm keeping mum on what I've ordered, just till I know they stop production. Just being cautious. I don't want to have the same stuff on my shelves as the bigger quilting shops. You'll see when it gets here.

Alright. I'm going to push papers around for a bit, then try to cast on a baby sweater, while drinking decaf. To answer a few of you, no I still can't get photos to publish from home; the fabric shots were courtesy the shop 'puter, and as much as I'd love to share my "little helper", you'd be much happier with your own supply. Take a mental health test; they are surprisingly easy, fun, and most usually result in a steady stream of potentially habit-forming drugs pharmaceuticals, suitable to de-stressing the bigger potholes bumps of daily life. Ciao for now, my poodles. Cami

Isn't it a p.i.t.a.?

Not one, but two of my "worst ever chores" (okay, I'm being dramatic again... just go with it, k?) had to be done this morning on my way into the shop. The Jeep was empty, and at the low, low price of three bucks a gallon, I had to feed it. Just to get to icky chore number two, (dun, dun, dunnn...) the post office. As a long time germaphobe, the post office makes me gag, get the willies, and want to go through a haz-mat scrubbing every time I walk through their door. Ack. (Note to MIL: expect the Monkey socks Saturday. To everyone else: where are your monkeys?)



Today I'll be spooling out some Dream in Color for those wee, teensy kits, but I have the new colors ordered (how much do you love "flamingo pie" and "butter peeps"? I know. Me, too.), and the patterns for the little wrap sweater and the women's 'Tulip' cardi, and I think I'm finally ready to commit to knitting sweaters again. Socks are wonders of architecture, but those DVDs of Lucy Neatby working her mad skilz have me twitterpated about bigger projects. Not that I'm not going to tackle that Cat Bordi sock pattern book with the wonky, wild, crazed-weasel design ideas, 'cuz I totally will. This is about sequencing, and the current mode has to be sweaters. We have two months of winter left, and all that chilly, wet spring to get through. Kids need cardigans; it isn't legal to prop them up on the sofa with a glass of Dubonnet if they get chilled. More's the pity. Think how much we could all get done if the children were so subdued. Yep, there's my mother-of-the-year trophy over on yonder wall...



Perhaps tomorrow I'll be able to get my bum over to an electronics store for a small camera, so the blog won't have to keep recycling fabric photos. There will be much to see around here in a very short time. Now I have to get busy with yarn... I know. How cool is that? Latah, knittas.





(here we have Blank Quilting's "Yoshiko" fabrics... they all have gold highlights and are much more stunning in person... trust me.)

Spring is in the air

This was supposed to be a photo of LeAnn in her crazy, big, ready-to-full hat, but pirating Robin's camera didn't work out so good, something about the photo being the wrong format. I have it in my e-mail, though. Perhaps That Crocker Woman can figure something out. I can't think, which isn't surprising, except the pumpkin seed extract has my brain buzzing and I've been floaty and spacey all day. You go make something nice, or just relax. I have to go home now. Enjoy the pretty fabrics till I get back. C

Tuesdays is fer runnin'

Stopped and bought two bags of decaf "breakfast blend" and a decaf mocha latte at Starbucks, got five bucks off my tab because the previous person tried to tip them, and as Target employees, they couldn't accept, so they told me to consider it as "paying it forward", and I was the lucky recipient. Coffee-dude gave me muy mucho whipped cream... as in, the lid had to be served "on the side", and then I was off to the nail salon, where I was the first customer of the day, in all that peaceful tranquility. Next week I'm doing the pedi, too, but this day I had to dash off to my haircutting extravaganza. I'd have gotten to feel totally sexy all day too, except the sopping wet downpour sorta put the kibosh on the new hair. I got to feel crunchy all day, instead. In a good, well coiffed helmet sort of way.

After hair was waxing the eyebrows into submission, and that's about when Darling called from the other side of the door, inside the salon. I had no idea, until I said I'd be out in a minute, and he replied "what? I can't come in?" Freakishly bratty man, he is. Then, in our separate vehicles, we headed off to the herbalist, because I'm having success with it, and therefore I feel I must force it on my spouse and children. "Boris" is weirded out and Maddie hates the taste of her tincture, but otherwise it all went well. They all got to head home and I went grocery-hunting, which is not nearly as much fun after you've finished reading about slaughterhouses, and the way pigs digest their food, and how much actual garbage remains in processed foods. Mostly I circled the perimeter of the grocery, and bought things like brown rice, a wee amount of chicken, lots of veg and fruit, and a bottle of Merlot, for my dearest, so he won't notice he's starving to death...*hic*.

Now I'm in here for knit-night and no one has shown up, most likely due to the torrential downpour we're experiencing. I think I'll call it a night, post this, and go home. Only a nutjob such as myself would be out on a night like this. I need warm jammies and a movie, y'all, just as soon as I wash the helmet off my head.

Smarter than the average bear

Yesterday, when "Boris" picked up his spawn from the shop, my only request was that Mitch fold the load of towels waiting in the dryer. I also suggested Joe could help, since they'd been at each other's throats all afternoon. Well, except for the brief interlude when they were all munching popcorn, brought as a bribe by Emma. Imagine, then, my dismay at 11:30 p.m., as I attempted to toss another load of clothes into the dryer for a spin. Hmmm. What to do?

As most of you know, I'm a creative sort of thinker, an "outside-the-box" girl. To remedy the problem, I put the Wii-motes at the bottom of the basket I'd had to pile the towels into. Then, this morning when Joe came to me asking to play, I said "of course" and "what a great idea" and I could see he was stunned... usually I make them do something before gaming permission is granted. Boy, you should've seen the look on the boys' faces when the remotes were gone from the drawer. (Tee-hee) Pure panic. I dryly suggested to them that, were they to finish the chores from the previous day, the missing pieces of their gaming system would probably turn up. I have to hand it to Joe, though. For a six-year-old, he has pretty good deduction skills. He figured out exactly what I'd done, and he rallied everyone to get the towels folded and put away, pronto. I just love it when a plan comes together.

You know, this blogging everyday for a year shouldn't be too hard. I joined a 'blog 365' ring, but Melly is attempting to make me a "blogging 366" button, since I've decided not to slack just because it's a leap year. It might screw up my mojo, like when you're really dedicated to your yoga, but you skip a week due to a horrific sinus infection, then you realize it's been almost nine months since your last downward dog. So, yeah. I am going to do this. I'm off now to make a bank deposit, mail the MIL her monkey socks, and figure out what's for dinner in this crazy place. I think I'm allergic to my antibiotic, because the back of my throat is super itchy, but it's red as all get-out, so until I stop breathing, I guess I'm okay. Have a fantastic evening, y'all. C

A Sad Reflection on 20 Years

Okay, so maybe I'm being overly dramatic, but the sad realization and truth is that the only thing that makes my butt look small is my gut. Lurker Traci... it's going to take more than high doses of tranquilizers to get my fat ass to the twenty-year reunion of the class from hell. What say we just go as far as Lake Geneva and spa it for a few days instead? We could get massages from well-muscled blonde boys named Sven and Hans, eat prissy, tiny food off huge, near-empty plates, then decide to sneak out to the bars (after all the kids were in bed, of course) and eat our combined weights in fried cheese curds and onion rings and wash it down with anything but 'table wine'. You in?

How did this happen? This middle-agedness. The ol' broad in the bathroom mirror freaks me out a little. I guess it helps that I'm now a brunette... I can refuse to recognize myself. Seriously, though... can you think of one good reason we should go to that reunion? Call me. And my chopstick diet isn't going well (as you may have surmised) because, in true slacker fashion, I made the lazy discovery of a lifetime. You just have to stab your food. I'm off to the shop now, in hopes of actually getting some sewing done, as Sundays are so slow. Type at you later. C

I Have Seen The Future

And it is going to be fabulous (why do I hear redrhonda's voice as I type that word?). I got a disc in today's mail of the new Amy Butler fabrics and they are just beautiful. She used a print from her "Nigella" collection in this new line of quilting cottons, so you could, if you were so inclined, tie together your home decorating fabrics with your quilts and handmade bed linens, etc. I'm so excited to finally see it . It's sort of a relief, too, as I'd ordered the whole collection sight unseen. Scary-thrilling. That's what the Xanax is for.

The 'happy chaos' quilt class was an adventure, and while the seasoned stitcher in the class did battle with her OCD while cutting her strips of fabric, everyone had something to show for their efforts at the end of the day. This quilt project is all about letting go, playing with color and wonkiness, and having fun chopping up and reassembling the cloth. I think they'll really enjoy the next session, where the strip sets they've been building get sliced into cross-sections and applied log-cabin style around the slightly skewed center "squares". You can't plan for that kind of craziness. With a little luck, I'll have a camera available for the next class. I'd love to show you what the gals are creating, and I'd feel just awful if someone exploded with anticipation because I didn't post pictures.

Well, my beloved has informed me we have the second disc of "Eureka" to watch this evening, so I'm grabbing the knitting and bum-planting myself on the sofa. May I just say that, until they make heated leather sofas de rigueur, the heating pad is my best friend for cozy t.v. viewing. Have a good night, all ye crafty vixens.

Even if the camera worked...

I wouldn't show you the mess I've got going on here in the shop. Suffice it to say, it's been a banner day for Amy Butler's fabrics... they are all over the place, and as I'd been contemplating swapping collections around on the shelves anyway, half my work is done. Of course, the second half of the move is all uphill. Looks like this little big girl will be forced to exercise today after all.

Tomorrow is the first "happy chaos" quilt class and I have much to prepare, but the big thing is to Not. Get. Sick. The class involves tons of talking (yeah, I'm sooo not cut out for that...har) and the strange tickle in my throat just needs to Go. Away. Whoever invented Ricola cough drops was a super-genius. Know who is else a super-genius? Emma. Sadly, she is blogless, since she works about a million hours a week, but she did something pretty groovy awhile back... she stashed a bottle of Kahlua in the shop... you know, for medicinal purposes. Yep. That's my backup plan for tomorrow's class, just in case the throat drops quit on me. I'm excited to see what strange and wonderful combinations my "students" arrive at. The premise of the workshop is to get people over their fear combining fabrics, so when they get here, they have to choose two fabrics. Of these they keep half their yardage of each, and the other portion gets split out amongst the other participants, along with a healthy helping of miscellaneous scraps from the shop's cutting table. From there we string piece wild quilt blocks, and can also embellish with raw-edge applique. It's gonna be a blast, people. Pure, unadulterated, patchworky happiness. I love this place. And to Steph... how soon can you get here? Type at y'all crafty mommas latah. Cami

I told you I took pictures...

Okay, so I am also incapable of rotating a photo, but considering it was retrieved out of the carcass of the deceased, very expensive camera that I killed for New Year's, and that just getting the pictures posted taxed my fragile brain beyond it's rebound capacity... just tilt your head for this first one. What you are seeing, in blurry, fuzzy, Cami's dead-camera vision, is the wine bottle cozy D-fly made me, and three sets of beaded stitch markers from her MojaveSis, who made them in my favorite size... teensy. Thank you both for the pretty and bright gifts.

While they were here, I got them started on socks, toe-up, and gorgeous. They turned out to be competent knitters who, although they knit at completely different speeds, both cranked out half a "foot" of sock over New Year's Eve...

The top-down little wretch you see in the background is mine. It is a 'second sock' which I have been struggling to get started, and finished, for use as a shop sample. Yep. On my feet. Oh, me and those socks have plans... big plans. You can't tell it from the photo, but they sing and dance and thrill me to the bone. I have LotusYarn in the shop, and soon will have it on my feet. (insert big yee-haw here)

Now I have to go be a parent to my five sickly offspring. The doctor was consulted, meds prescribed all around, and, apparently the cough syrup is useless... I thought they'd start passing out by now. Curious. Will look into that later. I just remembered Eli needs a shower, as he's dipe-less (commando) due to a parenting snafu earlier this evening involving not having a spare diaper at the shop. Ah, well. It wouldn't do to have all this beauty and brains too. Have a great night, but here's a few notes to people who need to know:

Redrhonda - there is no "swish" in the kidsilk crack, and the substitute color is fern. It's actually more representative of the model to use "jelly" for the gold/chartreuse, and the "fern" is exactly the color they say "jelly" is. Does this make sense? Groovy. Cool yarn rep guy is settling it all up tomorrow afternoon. Be ready to overdose on gorgeous color and yummilicious yarn. And thank you for agreeing to knit the sample. I *heart* you, Red.

Melly - Are you done with that bottle?

Thimbleanna - I'm so excited for you to come back to the shop, I nearly pee'd my pants. Oh, please give me a day's notice so I can make you sticky buns, or chocolate croissants... AGA food, just for you and ManOfTheHouse. I can't wait. *giggle*

Alright, that's enough of that. I'm washing up the chirruns and settling in with my spanking new Lucy Neatby DVDs and that second sock. More later...

In case you're out and about...

A woman from the local rag newspaper called me this afternoon, inquiring about doing a puff piece an article about the phenom that is Clementine's Dry Goods... tomorrow. Apparently, as her terribly interesting grown children sat around the dinner table over the holidays discussing what the tiny hamlet of Franklin needs to revitalize it, the subject of "destination shops" came about, and she recalled the charming little fabric and yarn emporium that she'd visited whilst investigating another puff piece article on a local character and her vanilla concern, currently being sold from the confines of the dry goods stronghold, but ever looking for a better, more permanent home... the vanilla, not the "dry goods". Anyhooo, back to... me. I have scheduled not one but three stunt knitters to be present for the interview. It is vital to my sanity that the place look like a happening joint, a too cool for school hangout for the criminally obsessed fiber-holic. I am bringing cookies, and as always there is as much tea/coffee/hot chocolate as you can stand to drink.
Come one and all, and if the knitting/quilting fates allow, the press will be kind. More kind, hopefully, than I was to a very dear knitting pal today, as I attempted to manipulate the "serene setting" of the shop and perhaps suggested that I could ply her child with movies and Benadryl in the waaaay back room of the shop. I am an ass, more so when there are cameras, with wee notebooks and pens in hand, waiting for an opportunity to misquote me. Mea culpa. I freaked at the last minute nature of the whole thing. As my own chirruns are all sick (doc. appt. at ten sharp tomorrow for the five hacking Becher kinder... Boris is going to have such fun with them!) I'm looking on the bright side... unless the photographer is as late as last time (the vanilla piece), I won't have my own children goofing up the public relations. I'm able to do that little chore all on my own. Melly is coming to shove a photo card into an orifice of the laptop (more ulterior motives... she might bring cookies, too!) so if you haven't already been to D-fly's blog snooping for photos(and they aren't there yet), we'll try and get that done tomorrow.

In other news, the copies of the new Amy Butler 'Midwest Modern' book were ordered today, and more great stuff is on it's way to the shop. Start thinking about joining the knit-along for the kidsilk crack haze quilt wrap. Kits will be available. There will be about twenty slots, and only five are spoken for so far. If demand exceeds, we will make adjustments to the order, and I will post a price very soon... stay tuned. Also, when the new Amy Butler fabrics arrive (printing begins this month-yay!) we have a local talent designing our very first block of the month program. You will love this quilt. A chance to make a modern heirloom (no pressure... just a rollicking good time). Again, stay tuned, as I hope to start it in March. But now, I'm hearing the siren call of the bed. You go too. This new year is kicking my bum so far. Hopefully tomorrow I won't have to eat my toes. A little foot-in-mouth goes a long way. Latah, crafty mommas.

The Camera Has Left The Building

I did not mean to walk the camera into the side of a chair. I did not mean to then drop the camera from my grasp. I sure as hell did not mean to kill the blasted thing, just when I had some cool socks-in-progress photos to share. The dead-ish camera is reporting a lens error, which has it locked up, so I'll attempt to load the pictures tomorrow from the wee, bitty card directly into the laptop... Melly, expect a phone call, as I'm sure the 'stupid bug' I'm starting the year off with will still be overpowering what scant brain cells I have left. Hopefully I can manage to drive safely into town, what with our dusting of snow we got. I've never known it to snow all day and yet be almost no accumulation, but, hey, this is Indiana. At least I got a good nap in, if passing out between 5-ish and 9 p.m. counts as a nap and not just going to bed early. Our guests have gone, and I'm looking forward to getting some sewing done in the shop tomorrow. The 'Happy Chaos' quilt class begins this weekend and I'd like to have a sample top made. That's all for now. Wow. Two posts in the new year already. I'm on fire.

Happy New Year, y'all

I've been busy knitting and chatting with Dragonfly and her MojaveSis, since they've taken up residence around my table these past two days. As per my true "knitting missionary/knitting sensei" form, I have both women knitting toe-up socks, magic loop. What? You didn't think I'd miss a chance to tamper with the natural laws of knitting, did you? These are new sock knitters. D-fly has only knit one sock heel in her life, 'cuz we are not counting those cheater socks she did first... they are darling, but they are also tube socks. The Pollyanna in me (whom I try to choke stifle at every opportunity) was quick to point out the virtues of the heelless sock, such as the extended wear-ability due to shifting the "heel geography" around, but this benefit was cancelled out by the socks tendency to slide down in the shoe, resulting in unnecessary wadding and consequent mobility issues for the wearer. No sir, these gals will be either short-rowing their heels, or doing the widdershins heel off of knitty, which is still probably the most user-friendly upside-down pattern. I have to say they are both making me proud of them. They started last night after dinner (baked potato soup: yum) and already are to the arches of the foot. I will take photos of the pupa-stage stockings and try to get them up later today. For now, I must go to bed... the meds are kicking in nicely, and a huge windstorm is buffeting the house, which will make for most excellent sleeping weather. Have a safe and happy New Year, and may you stitch on with wild abandon in 2008. Rock it out, muh knittahs.


p.s. Melly, I still cannot post in your comments, which sucks, because I am so proud you came to the end of that chitin sock. And your toes don't even look crowded in there! Yay you.
p.p.s. Melly makes the best popcorn in the whole world. The bag is gone. I think my ankles have swelled from all the salt, but it was So Worth It. Thank you, friend.