Camillaknits

random bits of busy

2011-07-02T11:02:00.000-04:00

For those of you not privy to my facebook feeds, here are the latest installments to "how I spent my summer vacation", which would be more meaningful if everyday were not a vacation (ie:I had gainful employment.) Ah. Well. Nothing to be done about that now. I'm looking forward to getting caught up on some trashy television and dancing my way through summer. And, just maybe, getting both the border on this scrap quilt and the mates to these socks knitted...

I haz muh priorities, you know. The dreaded second sock syndrome struck in a big way this past winter, so there's much to be done, and about three other mateless socks trying to crawl over my body to work on their match.com profiles, but I had to bribe (threaten) small humans to score computer time this morning, so the socks can bite me. Yeah. Throwing around some attitude. Gets me absolutely nowhere. Quilt tops going up on Etsy this morning. I'd do a link, but I concentrated too hard on my macaroni salad recipe yesterday, so I'm fairly certain I've forgotten how to do that. Oh, it'll keep me up tonight, and I'll fix it later, but for right now I'm focusing on Monday's big ass bash (that's just the working title). If you're in the vicinity of Morgantown, Indiana on Monday, stop in for some beer and grub. I'll have a big bowl of that memory-sucking mac salad for you to sample...latah, kittehs...

decidedly lazy

2011-06-30T20:44:00.000-04:00

today i mailed a baby quilt to england. grossly underestimated how much shipping to charge, so, aside from the sheer, unadulterated glee i feel at having sold something from the etsy store, profit didn't happen. learning experience, blah,blah,blah... yeah. events of the past week have me feeling very stressed out, so that has actually aided my knitting. upping the knitting ante also means less nom,nom,nom... so, yay. still in those itty bitty britches. spent my meager allowance on some new sneakers. the plan is to have them worn out by the time snow flies, though if the buzzards can't keep the roads any bit nicer, i'll be stuck in the basement on the elliptical. i can't stand trotting past the stinky dead things.

i finished a sock today, and immediately cast on it's mate. making some pretty good progress on it, too. i have a bit of the one sock syndrome, so this is a huge advancement for me. keeping the ADD under control, one stitch at a time. lessening my beer consumption has speeded up the knitting as well, but tomorrow will find me back in front of the new sewing machine that still has me feeling startled all.the.dayum.time. it really isn't so complicated, i'm just a spoiled, untrainable monkey and every encounter with the brother leaves me feeling bewildered. gah. dammit. anyhow. so, whilst i'm off doing nothing every dang day, little things are moving along. hopefully at a slightly quicker pace. a decidedly lazy summer is not a good thing for me.

Drawstrings and things...

2011-04-11T09:58:00.001-04:00

This post is being brought to you by our sponsors, WTF Happened and D,Amnmy,&Ipod. Both come in handy whenever I want to skip a workout, which sadly was NOT today. Can't exercise without tunes and the option of listening to myself wheeze, while often entertaining, just wasn't making me happy today. i pod on the charger, and I'm consuming my latest food fetish while the caffeine takes effect (hey, gotta get the heart rate up somehow!)... oh yeah, back to that food thingie... it's a simple thing...graham crackers smothered in Nutella and loaded with mini marshmallows. Disgustingly fun eat. A s'mores without having to toast anything sticky. Instant gratification.

I've been away from blog land for two and a half months. Nothing much happened besides some knitting and my new belly button (yee haw!!!!) and now, for the first time I finally get the importance of the drawstring. As a bigger grrl, waistbands were simple things, I thought, except for the damn dangly ornamentation of the drawstring. Yesterday was almost pajama pants day (sewing, not wearing) so the strings were already on my mind when I dug out my favorite pair of yoga pants for this morning's workout. Haven't worn them much post-surgery, so I was surprised to find the dayum drawstring actually serves a purpose, which now affects how I approach the strings in the pajama pants that didn't happen. For once Karma didn't had me my arse on this one. Had I made non-stringy pants and suffered a 'FAIL', my ego would have crashed, there would have had to be beer, and no Snoopy dancing would have happened around the new sewing machine... oh yeah, I forgot to mention there is a new crafty pal at Becher Haus, as my Viking decided to become a delinquent or develop Alzheimer's or whatever. I still have her. She sits in the corner blowing spit bubbles and chewing thread. Sometimes she'll straight stitch for a little while, but then she gets confused and starts whining for ice cream while she pees her pants. It's not pretty, and just as the last breath of sewing joy was being sucked from my body, along came Brother. He's a quilting genius. Wouldn't expect that coming out of the 'hood, but I haz big crush on him... and no permanent sewing station. Hence the sewing what dinna happen yesterday. I have big plans though...and several fun fabric combinations swimming in my head. Other plans for the month include taking the chirruns to a giant air show, with the largest fireworks display in the midwest (Lawd, I love Derby time!!!), planning my first ever adventure hike in a real woods, and finding a job that doesn't make me grind my teeth or want to punch someone in the throat. All good and fabulous things. I've given up on getting my phone to burp up photos... I just facebook those. Over here... who knows? Technology isn't my bff, so I'll have to find a workable plan, and then make something worthy to show off... or I could put the new belly button on display...

All hail the hot fudge and bacon sundae...

2011-01-27T16:01:00.000-05:00

on a Thursday. Yes, indeedy. Want a new taste sensation? Go try it. Best ordered in a family style restaurant that serves both soft serve and items with those big, chewy bacon bits. Crunchy ones simply will not do for this treat. I have a great picture, but my phone is holding it hostage. It was actually last night's tasty concoction, but I've had much pre-employment paperworky stuff to do, so this is my first chance to tell y'all about the squealer sundae. That's just the tentative name. Needs something a tic more snazzy... discuss amongst yourselves, then leave me a comment... and for those of you daring enough to try it fer realz... make sure you're sitting down. Yeah, it's that good!

oooh...shiny!

2010-12-20T18:03:00.000-05:00

See, every little once in a while I listen to Miss Croucher, especially when she's showing me a super-cutie-something-or-other in a boutiquey little bag with fluffy bits of tissue and pretty ribbons frothing out of the bag...
Well, let me just tell you... it's worth listening to The Croucher. I went into a little shop in Greenwood today called 'Lottie Dottie'... AHHH mazing. I bought skinny black jeans. A little black beaded sweater. An "I'm going to wear this 'till I die" grey tiny cardi. But the most unbelievable thing, for a formerly plus size girl such as myself, was the silver sequined top, to be worn with said skinny jeans. Me. Sequins. Shopping in a boutique full of adorable clothes. Trying things on and not having to settle for whatever will fit, but actually getting to be picky-choosy about what got to come home with me, in that beribboned and tissue filled bag.
Thank you, Amanda. It could only have been a better shopping experience if you'd been there with me!

girl, interrupted

2010-12-18T10:44:00.001-05:00

Well, so far my lapse back into blogging has been a little hit and miss, but overall, I think progress is being made. If one considers how little time I'm actually anywhere near a computer, you'd be amazed I got THIS far...I'm actually considering just tweeting for awhile, but the tactile satisfaction of tippity-tapping on a keyboard keeps me here.
Now for a wee bit of show and tell... here you will see the old knit pit sofa, recovered in home dec fabric. I can honestly say it's an improvement, but she does require some toss pillows. I'm on it, though they may be just store bought cheapies from Target initially...or perhaps I'll venture over to Pier One after the holidays. Hmmmmm...

The other day when I burped the knitting stash, these were one of the projects I had to take out and fondle for a few rounds. A delicious alpaca blend in tropical colors... and it's so FUZZY!!!! (Hey, Croucher!)

Now, as for the cookie recipe I said I would put up here... turns out I already DID... in November... two YEARS ago. There's even a picture, so just go dig into the archives, November 29th, 2008 and go crazy. They're totally yummy and calorie-worthy. I have much to do if I'm going to be ready to go watch Amy belly dance at Acropolis tonight. She says she wants to get me up and dancing with her... can you believe she starts drinking so early in the day??? LOL!

cookie monster

2010-12-14T20:07:00.000-05:00

Yes, it appears signs of life do exist on this blog. I spent the day with flour and spices up to my eyeballs... well, truthfully, my bum was sporting the majority of the flour, cuz I have an obnoxious hand-wiping habit, and never seem to have an apron on when the really dusty stuff is going on... *sigh*
BUT, needless to say, I baked up eleven dozen and two molasses spice cookies today. They turned out perfect, crinkled and chewy and oh, so deliciously scented. Mmmmm. This batch is being gifted, but I'll try to get a photo and the recipe up here by the week's end. As I type this, I'm also baking the last pan of runzas. For those of you without Russian heritage, the idea of meat, cabbage, and onions seasoned and baked into a bun might seem a little strange, but I was able to fly to Texas last week and learn to make them properly literally at my Grandma's side. I'll put that recipe up too, since this knit blog is getting back to it's beginnings as an everything blog... and you know if both my sister and I were chowing down bowls full of the runza filling, it's daaayum good!
Becher Haus is holiday ready. The newly re-covered sofa (remember the knit pit? ol' girl is sporting some Denyse Schmidt now!)is home, looking all English and awaiting scads of throw pillows. To that end, I'm hoping to get some built from the remaining stash of home dec fabrics very soon. Knitting continues to crawl along...I took out a few projects and knitted a round or two on them last night, just to remind them what it felt like. Oh, before I forget... I just loosed a bunch of knitting books on the Franklin Goodwill this morning, so go lurk a little if your crafty book stash wants padding. I'm deep into de-clutter mode right now, and the back of the Suburban was full of a closet's worth of nightmare... I even got rid of the pink and orange 'Library' bag from L.L.Bean... and boy, howdy, was that hard to do, but someone will see it and love it and take it for walkies to visit the library, and maybe toss in their wallet and knitting and drag it absolutely everywhere...
well... that's what we hope for when we give away our perfectly good junk, right? Right now, some former crack head is stocking the shelves at Goodwill and thinking "shit... I was never THAT f^cked up!" Srsly. My pink and orange phase is over. At Goodwill. *gigglesnort*
Tomorrow is another day, and I've got plans in it, so it's off to sleep for me. You go do what you do, and stop back here...
you know you're curious about those runzas!

Back from the bar, y'all

2010-12-12T09:32:00.002-05:00

Actually, I've been thinking about this dead blog for awhile and since certain persons in this haus refuse to follow the "if she's asleep, don't for fucksake wake her" protocol, I find myself with some quiet, alone time to sit here at the keyboard. News of note, for any of you following along, I'm in single digit pants sizes (but a 6 only in the really expensive, vanity-sized brands), I meet with my plastic surgeon in January to plan the removal of MUCH extra skin...it is disgusting and must go, so I can wear my shirts tucked in and my rocking cute rhinestone-studded skull belt buckle. True story. Found him at a flea market. Now I don't need to drive back to Nashville and try to steal one off the waitresses at 'Coyote Ugly'.

Made the discovery of Madison, Indiana a few months ago. Not only does that town sport a gorgeous riverfront, but also a chocolate shop that sells chocolate covered salt caramels. I can assure you that it's worth the trip to Cocoa Safari, and be sure to grab a bag of the dark chocolate covered almonds while you're there. It's a little bag of foreplay for your mouth... just sayin'... Also, be sure to hit the end of the street for a visit to 'All Good Things'. It's an amazing little shop and the proprietor is also the creator of really delicious, richly scented soaps. I'm still partial to Mandi's (formerly my Monday Mandi) handmade soaps, and I do have a huge, Jude Law worthy crush on the Zum Bar 'anise and lavender' scented soap, but THAT aside, the soap store in Madison is a MUST see. I even ventured into the quilt shop there, Margie's Country Store (so as not to be confused with the OTHER fabric shop in town that looks like a thirty year old rummage sale with bad lighting and the ceiling about to fall in)... but I digress... anyhoooo, I left with bundles of civil war era prints in golds and reds and creams. Yeah. Me. I nearly passed out from the shock of it, too! Not to worry, though. I found a funky pattern in an Australian quilting magazine that will set off the colors nicely and provide the proper visual punch. What? You thought I was going to piece wee, teensy stars or itty, bitty 'courthouse steps' blocks with my bag o' retro? Silly baby!

Now that I'm back in school, with no 'day job' to keep me busy, things are pretty dull around here. I'm still knitting socks like a fiend, and even have a sweater on the needles...with cables, no less. It's a gift for a lovely woman who needs a knitted hug. I can't wait to finish it and see her wrapped in it's warmth. Good motivation to keep my hands busy! This post has been a long time coming, and I don't know if any of you are still checking out the activity over here, but if you are, give me a shout out in the comments. This posting hopefully won't be an isolated incident... latah, knittahs!

the downside

2010-08-02T00:18:00.000-04:00

and there is one, to all that damnable sleep i got last night... wired and wide awake would be this poor girl's status for now. add to that the fact that everyone else in becher haus is sound asleep, thereby precluding me from doing anything remotely noisy, and you have one bored little blogger. so, blog, how was your day? me? oh, i went and hung out at the willard for awhile, since our croucher-comma-amanda was working and it turned into a beer day. then, when i thought the day was over, i was coerced back... much diet soda was consumed, as my evening duties included 'designated driving'. i rock the dd job, btw. my companion not only clutched the ohshit bar the whole way, but was also sighted squinting his eyes shut, and, if i'm not mistaken, clutching his stomach with his free hand. it was a very fun drive back to the haus!

tasks for the week include cranking out another pair of baby socks for an upcoming shower, getting three baby quilt tops into final assembly stage, and unearthing the walking foot for my sewing machine. i don't care how boogered up it gets, i am going to machine quilt at least one of those darn things myself. alone. independent of a professional quilter. yup. i'm going right over the edge to the dark side of quilting. it's a win-win though. i'll have a completely finished baby gift AND i'll improve my on-the-fly cursing skills. you know the ones... the special superpowers you get when you stub your toe or sideswipe a pole with your car. yeah, sewing can unleash them, too. soooo, anyhow... i suppose i could just medicate and zonk and get the day over with. seems like too good a night to waste, though. i stood outside awhile tonight and found pegasus and hercules and the corona, and a few other constellations i had to look up. binoculars would be helpful. remind me to hang them by the door tomorrow so we can have another lookie-see.

my official take on this sunday: ugh. just ugh. glad it's over, though my hair turned out fabulous today. so, not a total loss, i guess. g'nite, kittens. *mwah*

helloooo, august

2010-08-01T11:35:00.000-04:00

I'm usually not a big fan of summer, fall being my favorite time of the year, but this has been an exceptional summer so far, and with more to look forward to this month, I can't say I'm sorry to see the calendar page flip. my cousin Dorothy's wedding reception in Chicago is in less than 2 weeks... I'm so thrilled to be going, I'm not even freaked out about driving through the windy city (as opposed to riding shotgun... always). A side trip to Navy Pier to ride the Ferris wheel, stay to see the fireworks, and head back to the haus. Just an over-nighter, but an adventure all the same.

Currently sitting on front porch while my hair dye 'cooks' the gray off my hair, then I can go out in public today. Yesterday was spent cleaning the dregs out of the store. Clementine's is officially over. Done. Finito. and after catching nearly nine hours of sleep (yeah, me! who'd a thunk it?) I'm feeling pretty much like a new woman. Well, at least I was till I took a gander at the boxes stacked in the entryway at Becher haus. Much go go through and a big sort/pitch will have to happen soon. The design studio is ready for action. I'm moving my home stash of fabrics over there today, along with the rest of my sister's Bud Lite Limes... for when the creative process fails me, you know.

Little sister came for a week's visit, bringing my niece and nephew in tow. It was the first time I'd gotten to meet young master Harrison. He's super cute, with his Mississippi drawl and my niece is so different from her seven year old self. She's thirteen now, and smart and funny and pretty. She came with us to the tattoo parlor to watch as her momma and auntie got their matching cherry blossom tattoos. I haven't taken a decent photo of mine yet, but will post one when the healing process has finished. Some things are worth the wait...

Time to stop scaring the neighbors as I sit out here with the smooshy, sludgy dye on my roots. Time to make Sunday happen. Be well, all y'all... I'll see you back here in a bit, once I burp some photos out of the camera.

ha!

2010-07-22T01:09:00.000-04:00

this isn't even a real post, in case you were wondering. it's just been a crazy week and i'm too full of thoughts to even begin getting them down... that whole "nailing jello to a tree" analogy comes to mind. so, instead, i'll just throw random bits of happy out and you can ignore or ponder them at your leisure...

county fairs and demolition derbys. yes. i came. i saw. i sweated like a whore in church... and loved every damn minute of it!

running away from home? head to louisville, but unless you're a huge fan, skip the urban bourbon tour. i have exactly one stamp in my bourbon passport, and i'm quite ashamed to say i dinna even drink the damn stuff. had to leave the nasty, mulchy-smelling stuff there on the bar. thank gawd for tequila... and irish whisky...

getting asked if you've recently undergone gastric-bypass surgery. this happened to me at belly dance class last night, which in my brain is really still tonight (cuz i'm up typing in these wee hours of the morning, the sleep, she eludes me). should this question thrill me so much? hellz yeah! i'm at my lowest weight in sixteen years. sixteen. years. yeah, baby...
and my weight doesn't even start with a 'two' anymore. i might faint from the thrill of it all.

moving into the girl-cave this week has been hot, miserable work, but the end is near... and there's cold beer in the fridge and the air-conditioning is cranked. that first electric bill might make me swoon, but as an official resident of the girl-cave, i have to gird my loins (i just wanted to use the word loins... makes me feel all 'wild kingdom') for the shock of it. also, i need to remember that hot air rises, so maybe winter won't be so bad... plus, that's what the handknits are for. i iz knittah. chillz? bah!

little boys with fresh haircuts. sleeping siamese cats on comfy chairs. girls in glasses looking super-cute. realizing that the world doesn't come screeching to a halt if you take a breather to collect your thoughts... or to bandy them about. deciding not to decide about some things... only open-minded people think to mix their italian ices. i might love that a little... okay... a lot.
lemon-blueberry, anyone?

enjoying the ride?

2010-07-14T00:01:00.006-04:00

today is an 'out day'... i'm running on fumes, but the weekend is just a few days away. hang on and enjoy the ride... words to live by, for a few more days at least!

the girl cave...

2010-07-13T22:25:00.000-04:00

okay, tomorrow is the last day of painting... the girl cave is nearly finished. yeah, there's the whole 'moving in' thing to get through. i keep forgetting about that part...

not much to see here. just walls and ladders. just preserving the memory of a nearly pristine workspace. the next time you see it, it'll be full of color and chaos... and quilts, if i get my arse moving.

the wonderous view of a brick wall out the back kitchen window. i'm embracing the whole 'city-apartment' feel... perhaps i'll sneak out for smoke-breaks. my bum fits the windowsill.
i checked already...

lil' bitty update

2010-07-12T21:54:00.000-04:00

Today was a busy little day at Becher Haus...
these two had a birthday. Thirteen and fifteen. I'm pretty sure we just brought the wee girlie home, but now she's ready to learn to drive. I need a lie-down...

Knitting happened whilst I waited on getting the tires re-balanced... and yeah, I'm verrry into pirates right now. He's the perfect knitting companion. The baby socks are random bits of Opal sock yarn, and the goal is handsful of mis-matched 'thockies' for baby gifts. I just need scads more before October, when all the wee ones start making appearances.

First thing this morning... dermatologist appointment. Got a nice little speeding ticket on the way there, but the scary part was the NEEDLE full of lidocaine STUCK IN MY EYELID. Oh. Was I shouting? Sorry. It was a little harrowing. Even birthday cake dinna make it better. Tomorrow I expect to not look like a bruiser. I'll still have sock yarn in hand, though...

No 'show & tell' today

2010-07-11T08:06:00.000-04:00

... but that just means it'll be all the better when I do finally fire up the camera. Things seem to be cruising along pretty well lately. The studio is a work-in-progress, but the ceilings are no longer in danger of dropping old plaster on anyone, and painting commences tomorrow. I don't know what's up with the contractor for the haus, but there is that whole 'blinking voicemail' doogie on my phone... I'll have to check that out. This weekend I'm letting my inner redneck out in a big way (sorry, mom!) and attending my first mud bog festival. Oh, I'm sorry... did you just crack your head on the desk? Ouch! I shoulda warned you it was coming. My predilection for shocking behavior should serve as a warning to y'all. Now you know. Anyway, right after mudding and hitting the honky tonk bars, I'm headed to Louisville, for a little respite from 'real life'. Booked a room in a fancy hotel and I'm hauling the laptop with me for some remote blogging... the camera is all charged up. No chores, no five chirruns wanting fed, no having to referee disputes over the Wii, or whose turn it is to haul out the trash. Just peaceful nothingness on Egyptian cotton sheets and a 'hot brown' in my belly. My goal- to get things squared away and maybe get a name and a mission statement hammered out in my brain about this new direction things are moving in. I've got about six quilt designs to get sketched onto paper before I lose them, and am hoping to have a few started within a month. Thinking of selling kits for the smaller quilts, but that's far in future. I have the submission guidelines in hand for creating a fabric collection... that's my 'must do before I die' project that keeps haunting me. We'll see how that goes, though a local artist's work is the first thing I want to see translated into fabric; he's excited about the project, so hopefully Westminster/Free Spirit will see the edgy-genius of it as well. More later, kittens. I'm off to beautify and crash No-Amy's door with Starbucks in hand. She escaped having to go camping and today her freedom ends... poor baby. Is alright. I fix. *mwah*

falling to pieces

2010-07-08T06:57:00.000-04:00

So, it's been a hella couple of weeks since a whole tree fell on the haus. In that span of time, I've closed the store, rented an apartment downtown to use as a design studio, called countless contractors for both the damaged haus and the daunting task of painting the interior of an apartment with 14 ft. ceilings. The haus remains a wee bit of a wreck, but I think we've got a good guy to work on it. My beautiful friend Phyl recommended him, so crossables crossed... and the painting guy seems more than capable. The whole "design studio" concept was to create a space where I could work on quilts without interruption, but wouldn't you know it, as I've been waiting to get moved into the new space, the coolest idea for a line of fabrics has burrowed into my brain. So... yeah. Fabric design. Just one of many new adventures in this life, post-Clementine.

In other random news, the evil bronchitis is nearly completely gone, just re-inked the old tattoos the other night, started a new belly dance class last night, have taken up beer with a vengeance in this awful heat, and I'm at my lowest weight in 16 years. Yep. I was so shocked I bought myself a Calvin Klein dress... and it fits perfectly. Of course, a pair of 6" stilettos also found their way home with me, along with other wardrobing accessories, but buying something off the rack in a size 14 thrilled this lil' big grrrl to pieces. Things are finally feeling manageable, I'm knitting again, and life seems full of promise. I never expected retail to suck the life out of me, but I suppose the last seven months were what did it. Problem solved. Now to get back some semblance of a life, though the new one may bear little resemblance to the previous one. Still many loose ends to tie up, but I just wanted to check in with y'all...
don't worry. This'll be mo' bettah, cheres...

At least it's on the backside...

2010-06-13T08:16:00.000-04:00

By the time the storm was over last night, it was far too dark for photos. I couldn't even see how high up the tree had snapped off, so it was a relief to see it was really just the top thirty foot or so. Madeleine's windows are both blocked... as she's a teenager and prone to sleeping till noon anyway, she prolly won't consider this an inconvenience, unless she's developed a claustrophobic streak since her days of hiding in the kitchen cabinets with the cat...
the beginning...

and the end result...isn't it fabulous?
Getting a tree service out here to haul this mess away is a priority. It seems there were 'residents' in yon tree...noisy, scrabbly squirrels, whom I now consider to be squatters, and if they keep playing their noisy, scrabbly mating games on my roof...
well, let's just say I'll be making biscuits and calling mom for grandpa's squirrel gravy recipe. The dog loves biscuits and gravy!

This last photo goes out to lil' friend Su... oh, and Mom, who claims to have forgotten what I look like (you just saw me three years ago...geez!) This was date night, third Sunday of May, and I got stood up by Susan so she could work... for money... instead of coming out with moi. Will had come out to the haus to give me, at my request, "Katie Perry hair", and boy, howdy, did he evah. This photo was taken after a three pub crawl, an ill-fated game of pool, and the longest round of darts known to man, in which Croucher remains the victor. The flower behind the ear is now an affectation of mine... I plan to spend all summer looking like either a.)a displaced parrot-head, or b.)a post-apocalyptic flower child. It's a win-win either way. Nobody bothers the kooky chick with the fake flora pinned to her head.

inaminit

2010-05-20T09:00:00.004-04:00

Well, hell. Look who's turned into Chatty Cathy all of a sudden. Must be my impending freedom making me all loosey goosey with the typing. Today was looking like a free day, what with Herr Becher on 'vacay' and all, but there's the 'Fun and Done' quilt class tonight at the shop, so someone has to be there to lock up. This leaves me with the bulk of my day to play around. I shopped my stash in the bedroom closet (what? you don't have random 66gallon tubs of fabric stashed all over your haus? get with the program... geez!) and found some Michael Miller "sundaes" fabric and was suddenly inspired to throw a few 'Stash&Dash' bags together. Oddly enough, there were coordinating zippers in that stash bucket as well. I did grab another half dozen zippers at JoAnn's last night before belly dance class, but naturally they've decided to be the wrong color for my current ice cream fabric obsession. See how calm I am? One might suspect I'm used to being thwarted by my own inner stitcher...

So, bright and early, I was up with the coffeepot, making my sewing-day plans, and I thought to check the traps. No morning mouse. Two days in a row with the no-mouses. Excuse me a minute...

Ok. I'm done with my happy dance, though the darkness inside me is snickering that the mice are just laying low till Herr Becher's vacation days are over, so that he'll be gone and I'll be back on body-dump duty. Ugh. I hate that little inner voice. Just once it'd be nice if she was wrong.

It's time, once again, to ready the store's newsletter. Camp Wanamaikasaukee kicks off 'officially' this Saturday, so I must alert the masses. I'm thinking sock camp would be a fun retreat to do every summer or fall, possibly in an exotic location. Of course, around here that leaves one with scant few possibilities: Bloomington, Nashville (IN, not TN), or further south to French Lick. Hmmm... gambling and spa treatments, all under the guise of 'sock camp'...

yes. I, too, see the beauty of this plan. Alrighty, then. Something to plan for, because I'm feeling way, waaayyy more creative as the shackles of shop-ownership prepare to come off. Thank God, 'cuz for a year there, I thought I'd lost my damn mind!

I'm slowly getting caught up on my blog reading. My hate/hate relationship with all things electronic has made me slow in getting to know our new computer, but I'm finding that since I'm the first one up in the morning, it's allowing me unfettered access. Usually there's five chirruns crowding me out, or Herr Becher's IMAO addiction to work around. Just know I'm looking, trying your yummy recipes in spite of the devil diet and couch to 5K plan, I'm drooling over your latest project, and I'm cringing at your latest round of sick puppy vet bills. Ugh. Keep spilling, 'cuz I'm so glad to be back...

a post-script for the bereft (this means you, sarah and laurel):

two words... fabric. co-op.

ponder that for awhile. like i said yesterday, one door closes, another one opens...

to-do lists

2010-05-19T12:48:00.002-04:00

Hello, gentle reader. Thanks for stopping by. Since my last post, I've been on one grand adventure after another, and though, yes, I was that girl Saturday night, the one who got up and drunkenly sang with the band at Miss Karen's party, I reformed into the best DD ever for Zoe's 'inappropriate t-shirt' party last night. I even mostly ignored the Patron (ok. I had a few tequilas... and beers... and some jello that wasn't, and her drunken cherries and watermelon were yummy, too) but I avoided the beer pong tourney out in the garage. Herr Becher didn't fare so well. Speak above a whisper today and he winces and turns green. Oh, the amateur. I brought him some donuts and coffee. A full recovery is underway.

A good many of you have been asking me... daily, and without ceasing, what I intend to do with myself once I close Clementine's. The general consensus seems to be that without regular contact with the general public my brain will shrivel and I'll have to be fitted with one of those fashionably tight white jackets with the buckles in the back. So, I looked around Becher Haus and came to a few conclusions about what that gin-soaked British witch Clementine has been keeping me from, besides regular and emotionally cleansing blogging (these are in no particular order):

-organized closets

-freshly ironed linen kitchen towels

-mopped and polished floors

-books on actual bookshelves, not stacked in piles all over the haus

-having a cleared-for-use island in the kitchen

-using my fountain pen collection to write actual letters to actual humans on actual paper

-knitting naughty lingerie... a fetching cashmere garter belt, to put a name on it

-finishing up five... or possibly twelve (excavation unearths more every day) quilt tops

-playing with silk and vintage velvet-it was going to be Christmas ornaments, once upon a time

-learning Japanese so I'll know what my kids are saying about me behind my back

-spending time with said children, and teaching my 15yr old to drive a stick (daddy's Jeep, NOT my car!)

-hanging out with my knittahs in coffee houses, and getting back to knit group

-publishing my first quilt book, unless it kills me. this is a real hazard... there's no alcohol involved... yet

-jiu jitsu lessons with the family

-more belly dancing

-parties on the front lawn

-finally getting the dayum dawg to come when she's summoned

-getting the cat to stop sleeping on the dining room table and drinking out of the bidet

-setting up patrols around the perimeter of the bed to keep dust buffaloes out from underneath

-finally getting enough sleep because I won't have the financial burden of the shop slowly eating away at my guts

See? I won't die of boredom. With as slow as things have been lately, especially these past few months, it's not like I'm leaving a huge hole in the fabric of society. A brick and mortar store is far more maintenance than a simple online shop, but the idea of making Clementine's a pack-and-ship shop makes me gag a little, so, no. Just no. You mean well, but I have precious few good years left in me. I sure as shit ain't spending them stuffing boxes and taping them shut. I was in love with my little store. It felt good to walk in and soak up all the happy, but sometime last year it became a chore. I'll miss my fabulous customers, but I'll also have one helluva stash to play in here at home. One door closes, another one opens, blah, blah, blah...

you get the picture.

stick a fork in it...

2010-05-15T11:29:00.003-04:00

it's done.

Clementine is for sale. As both a wanton, and a lush, she finds herself in need of a new keeper. Just want the fabric? The yarn? It can be arranged, and very cheaply, since her current mistress finds herself in the throes of panic almost daily due to the demands of homeschooling five children, an omnipresent laundry pile, unfinished projects, and the morning mouse (a short but disgusting tale of home owner woe... suffice it to say, there's body disposal to be done every damn day).

If you are interested, please feel free to call the shop Wed-Sat, 11 to 5. The 'Camilla-walks-away-from-it-all' price is very low, unlike her blood pressure. It seems I'm not at all cut out for the demands of marketing... I just like to make stuff. That's where my happy is, so there I will return. The rest of it, the grueling part, is over for me. I have a mental stop date of July 1st, unless things pick up remarkably quick... but I'm still out. It'd just be nice to have our girl Clemmie running some decent numbers for her new sugarmomma.

string's the thing

2010-04-23T17:00:00.000-04:00

Yesterday:

Today:

Yep. You got that right. And some are even hand-wound (ow, not ooh)balls due to the uncooperative nature of the hundred inch hank and my swift's lack of circumference. Huh. That sounds dirty, even to me...
moving on...

New 'Lorna's Laces' colors. Sock yarn makes me giddy. Along with yon sweater kit from up top came a few yummy skeins of handpaint tweed sock yarn, as seen below. I covet one in particular. Might even have moved it into my stash. Newsletter thwarting me mightily. Must go throw something and then haul dinner home to chirruns... back later. *mwah*

breaking the silence

2010-03-21T08:49:00.004-04:00

Wow. Who knew I could shut up for over a month? Sometimes I even amaze myself. Not so amazing, though, when you lose your words. Melly's son dying kind of pushed that situ over the edge for me. She and Ken were so beautiful at Justin's memorial service. He was an amazing kid, smart and sarcastic and nearly sincere in his proposal of marriage to me over my cheesecake and mac 'n cheese. My heart still aches for the empty place he leaves in his family, but the boy who had all the odds stacked against him from the word 'go' packed a whole lot of life into his 22 short years. The urge to rail against God, fate, the universe... it's a common reaction. Seeing Melly accept what couldn't be fixed and knowing she's strong enough to keep breathing... that was amazing to see, but I hated that there wasn't any other choice for her. She's just not a crumble-to-the-ground person, and what good are tears when the damage is done, the loss has happened? I have a new and unexpected distaste for that saying 'it's all over but the screaming'.

I probably started this post thirty times in my head, and never got past the first two sentences. Turning 40 hasn't brought me any wisdom and illumination, unless you count the extra silver my hairs are sporting. They seem damn illuminated...
No other news worth tappity-tapping about. It's been a quiet couple of months here at Becher Haus. I got bored with whisky and took up tequila. Amy, the Belly Dance Instructor Extraordinaire, has mentioned another performance in May, which is kind of soon for me, scarred as I am from my foray into the world dressed as a Village Person back in October. My sock habit has gone from bad to worse, as I now have possibly a dozen socks on needles. No biggie, you say? That's a dozen Second Socks that may never happen. Or, rather, nine. Three sets of two-at-a-time-toe-ups are on needles. So, there is a chance all will be well for them, given time and attention.

Attention. There's a word for the day. One of me and a whole lotta else. Starting to feel the pressure. Clementine has been a major pain in my arse since December, and I'm cracking under the strain. I sent a snarky e-mail to an equally snarky old man the other day, who complained about the store's newsletter. You know, the one with the 'safe unsubscribe' button at the bottom? Oh, and the e-mail list that the customer's have to sigh themselves up for? Yeah. I might have been less than complimentary... you want to see? Really? *sigh* Okay... if you insist...

Dear Mr. McCoy-
As I only use e-mail addresses provided to me by my customers, and have gained permission from all parties involved prior to putting a customer's address into my database, I am appalled that you are having difficulties with the newsletter. I send them out so infrequently, you see, but if another one should happen to darken and defile your apparently fragile 'inbox', you have only to scroll to the bottom and click on the 'safe-unsubscribe' link.
It's really that simple. My apologies for your distress.
Camilla Becher
Clementine's Dry Goods

See? Sense the restrained shitty? Yeah, I've had a few months of that. I love my customers, I love having a place to let color and ideas run wild, but I'm about all out of happy with the economy, and crabby old farts, and lib-tards. uh-oh... insert ranty bit here...
If you're a Democrat, I apologize for the slam, but it's not about you. I'm pointing out a problem I have with Some Others... those people who forget we have a political system in place where we get to express ideas and vote and do all kinds of fabulous things, and here's a Newsflash(!!!)- we don't have to agree, and that doesn't make me an ogre simply because I don't believe in welfare programs and I think the military deserves way the hell more money to pay soldiers. Just. Back. Off. We aren't changing each others minds, and though I can accept that, and value you for your humor and thoughtfulness and creativity anyway, you get to be close-minded and throw me under a bus whilst feeling self-righteous and, to my surprise, 'open-minded'. This is my blog, where I get to be indignant and pissy and vent all the things I rarely get to say to actual humans, though the rant you just read has flown out of my mouth several times over the past two years. I'm a go-with-the-flow kind of person. My best drinking buddy is a huge Democrat, and that's not just 'cuz she's tall. I like people with convictions. I just wish more people weren't so programmed with intolerance. Strangely, more of it comes out of the Other camp, if you feel me.

Now, I was supposed to have a hot date with lil' friend Susan tonight, but a co-worker decided to have labor pains, so she'll be slaving away at her Starbucks instead. Justin Moore is in concert April 2nd. I'm in need of a country music fan to endure it with me, as Herr Becher just looked at me as if I'd sprouted a third ear when I asked him. Time to hit the elliptical for a 60 minute torture session, then some of those new, illuminated gray roots are screaming for a touch-up. l8r, kittens...

huh?

2010-02-20T22:38:00.003-05:00

yeah, this is just an 'i'm not dead yet' kind of post. the camera took a vacay without me, and i have yet to locate the card reader on this here new computer, so it's not like i could show you pics or anything anyway. running on little sleep and fewer brain cells. planning a little mischief for a certain bookish pal...i don't think she's a blog follower over here, but until it all shakes out, i can't breathe a word.

yeah, that might kill me.

so, tomorrow is pajama-day. finally. i didn't think it would ever get here. this has been a shit-ass week for one of the sisterhood. we love you, t.w., and i know you're gonna rock the tank tops this summer, even without the ta-tas. prayers and belligerent rantings to all higher powers aside, i just know you're too damn stubborn to let cancer beat you. plus, you've got two beautiful babies and a good man who can't possibly let you go... not to mention the 'victoria's posse'. and we are all that and a bag of chips. use us as you need us. we bow to your will, and will you to get better!

i'll probably venture out with the becher babies later in the day, if the roads aren't too icy from the threatened snow what's supposed to fall and ruin our fun. need to get used to the unusual diatribes that have started coming out of youngest child's mouth... like this tidbit from last week...
(scene: the suburban, pulling into mcd's)
daddy: "who wants nuggets?"
peanut gallery: "me!", "Me", "ME, too!"
5th child: "not me. i need chicken with bones in it so i can build a yombie"

huh? who ever expects to hear their four year old plotting to build a zombie? and why does he not use Zs? oh, it's a tootsie-pop mystery... 'the world may never know'...

wonderland

2010-02-12T14:53:00.000-05:00

So, the neighbors prolly think I'm insane (well, duh), but this morning's drive necessitated a few pull-over minutes... every vista was stunning. I took several shots, but this was especially nice, so I'm sharing it with y'all...

I did manage to get a 48 minute workout in this morning, and have the best intentions to get another one in this evening, since Herr Becher informed me via text (he just got a full keyboard. don't worry, he's catching up quick) that it's stuffed pork chop night. He's cooking.
He rocks.

Now I'm off to maybe sew some on the wonky log cabin quilt blocks, since sitting down isn't so wincy now. Today is the first day of the Knitting Olympics. My goal is to get the celtic knot tunic and two pairs of socks off needles... while listening to the Ting Tings. Makes keeping in pattern more of a challenge.

unfiltered

2010-02-11T21:17:00.003-05:00

There are days, and there are days... like today, when even breathing seemed to put me in a pissy mood. It's those damnable newsletters that, oh, say, seven seconds after you hit 'publish', will reveal their dirty little secrets, like the wrong store hours, the lack of a date for a sale event, or just poor placement of written text...
and silently, you fume, cursing the gods of all that is unholy and electronic for not making you a better widget-mover/detail queen.

Then you stifle the urge to choke the next person who says you should send them out weekly.
As if I'm even allowed that much Xanax.

Other news of note: the new hoo-hoo seems to be healing up at the appropriate rate, and a launch date of mid-March has been approved by the surgeon. Not that I'm cracking a bottle of champagne over it, but as things go, some sort of fanfare will be expected. Someone kindly warn Herr Becher that there should at least be flowers...and steak. Mostly steak.

The weather since Saturday has wreaked vengeance on Clementine. She's discovered a new aptitude for tequila, and came home with a coffee mug from her favorite pub last night. I wasn't privy to the details, but she either charmed the bartender into the freebie, or we're looking at petty larceny here...

This week I made the mistake of committing to a 'fitness program'. *shudder*
Now I need to be off to sleep, if I'm to get up and ruin my day-full-of-promise with 45 minutes of cardio work in my scary basement. You go eat a cupcake. Then bring me one...

pre-surgery update, nombre dos

2010-01-23T00:01:00.000-05:00

Hello, weekend. Glad you could make it.
What I'll be wearing...

And what I'll be playing with before-hand...

More 'wall' pics, but these are pre-glut, so bear in mind Clementine has way too much fabric and you should prolly come buy some. That's not a shameless plug for your hard-earned cash. I seriously just don't want to be crushed by bolts of cloth when the shelves give way...

pre-surgery update, numero uno

2010-01-22T17:04:00.002-05:00

So, I've been a busy Frau Becher these past two days. The wonky log cabin was not just a passing fancy... it appears to have taken over my free time, as seen here:

this is 20 center blocks plus one round of wonk. I have since added the beginnings of round two. Looking like I might get it done this weekend, if tomorrow night's super-fun outing doesn't put me out of commission too long into Sunday, though I refuse to admit to ever getting hang-overs. Down here, we have the Paula Prass "flights of fancy" feature fabrics that finally arrived at the shop the other day. Good grief, but they were a long time coming...

totally worth the wait, though. I'm planning another quilt to show them off to their best advantage... maybe one of those 'candy bar' quilts...
Down here you'll see some specimens of the 'Timber' fabric collection. I was apparently having a retro, 1920's moment, because they are a whole lot of Arts & Crafts style wallpaper-inspired prints. Cuteness, though. Especially the tiny birds in the trees. How cute for wee baby things. Oh, you know you want some bird fabric...
don't even think about ignoring it...

I'm off to hit the sack now. Last night was a wash. A monster headache kept me from belly dance class last night *gasp* and tonight Herr Becher thought it sporting to take me out bar-hopping, then put me on the elliptical trainer whilst still tipsy.
Okay, it was way funner than normal, but really, is that a viable exercise option? We shall see...

snickity, snickity

2010-01-21T12:00:00.002-05:00

ok. lots to get done before 'surgery day' on monday. just a quick little update to appease those of you sitting at your workstations trying to look busy whilst catching up on all your favorite crafty blogs. i am currently covered in thread snippets and have found an answer to my quilt block quandary. a man in north carolina has provided the visual i needed to push myself into getting a wonk cabin going. i'm using heather baileys's "nicey jane" fabrics in blue/green/yellow. young master eli saw the stack of fats and informed me, in his most solemn voice, that they needed to be on his bed, in 'a warm and soft quilt'. so, you look around over at mr.cary's blog; i have a pile of strips waiting my attentions...

Chez Moi?

2010-01-14T15:14:00.004-05:00

C'est la chose que j'aime le plus.
The 'French-phrase-a-day' calendar Mandi's torturing me with this year informs me that that's the way to say "It's the thing I like the most". Right now, it seemed relevant. So many pretties here... the new 'Boutique' collection from Chez Moi...

It's Moda fabric, so bear in mind it cannot be re-ordered. Perfect for stashing, or for the stack&whack class Miss Deb's teaching in February.

Below, you will find a small sampling of Anna Griffin fabrics from the 'Isabelle' collection. Hoping to add more as space allows, but walking past the shelves makes me a little flinchy... full to groaning they are. I have one intrepid customer already planning to sew Amy Butler's 'Liverpool' dress in the pink/red/orange stripe. It's gonna be fabulous!

Here's a 'Serendipity Scarf' update. I tried to get it to pose with the new skully black & white fabrics that arrived two days ago, but there was pouting, and it threatened to drag itself along the floor and get full of dried slush-muck in front of the door. *deep sigh*
Just two more 'rows' to go, though I'm thinking of using up the wee bits and bobs of the sock yarns to grow it a little longer. One can't ever have too much color...

And, lastly, a peek into one of life's little mysteries. No longer will I need to question why my knitting sets off my allergies...

I'm going to need the super-sized sticky roller to clean that up...

Moving forward...

2010-01-02T12:43:00.006-05:00

I proclaimed last year as my 'year of living dangerously'. Travel, yoga, pub-knitting with whiskey (NOT for the faint-of-heart, trust me!), and belly dancing were the add-ons to my sedate life last year.
What? You think yoga clothes weren't frightening? Shows what you know. I scare myself in those gawd-awful pants!
Anyway, I'm continuing the theme for 2010, 'cuz there's more pub-knitting to be done, and more muscle groups to master. I found a truly awesome spectacle on youtube today, so now...
I have BIG plans for 2010. Check it out.
I've also decided to branch out in the knitting arena. Though I hope/fervently pray to finish up the countless pairs of socks currently on needles, I decided I'd commit to an actual 'garment'. So, the day after Christmas, while the kids were still jacked up on cookies/candy/new video games, I busted out the frogged 'February Lady' sweater, reclaimed the yarn, and casted on this...

Sporting not one, but TWO of these Celtic beauties, and stretching my attention span far more than is comfortable, or even safe, the reclaimed yarn is becoming a freakishly soft knitted 'sweatshirt', with the cables providing shaping at either side of the waist...
Yeah, like I have one of those...*snort*
But there you have it. A sample of what's up with me this year. Oh, and since I have to turn 40 (shudder) this year, and my favorite local band ever is playing a mere 4 days before the dreaded event at The Juke Box in town, I might even find myself up on stage belting out a country tune.
Nothing like a little stage fright to keep it real.

little bits of happiness

2010-01-02T12:40:00.002-05:00

I spent yesterday dusting and rearranging bolts of fabric. Robin aka 'Austen'(currently of 'why is the rum always gone?' fame) came in to assist and succeeded in convincing me to overhaul every single shelf-full. Seriously a slave-driver, that little missy. In a few days I might put up fabric wall pics. If you are a well-behaved lot of ruffians.
In the meantime, here's a photo-essay of the happy that has come in the past week. They are (top to bottom) Denyse Schmidt's 'Hope Valley', ibid, Heather Bailey's 'Nicey Jane', and more of the same. The Hope Valley collection is complete. The Nicey Jane is slightly over half here... where the hell is my super-cutie UPS man, anyhow? He may be toting the rest around. Stay tuned, crafty chicas...

Happy Christmas, y'all!

2009-12-24T11:38:00.004-05:00

I'm over the hat thing. The one photo I managed to get of three of the four 'first hats' is on my phone, and it's not great. However, they mostly looked like this one on Miss Amanda Croucher's head. She's a new knitter, taught in the local pub. A hat on dpns was her first project, and she did a bang-up job.

So, what does the adorable and intrepid new knitter gift her knitting sensei with for the holidays?

Oh, hell's yeah.
That Croucher might just be the teacher's pet. Fabulous whiskey and fun company made yesterday one of the most pleasant knit-ins ever... well, and the 'Red Velvet Elvis' cupcake from The Flying Cupcake. That may have played a part...yum!

In the paranormal romance corner, the latest from our favorite local author was dropped by yesterday for a thorough going-over. Post-It flags at the ready. I'm looking forward to my holiday edit.
Now, to get back to my quiet Christmas Eve day here at Clementine's.
And, yeah, the Black Bush is at hand, for knitting emergencies, you understand.
Have a happy ho ho ho, y'all!

dirty, sexy knitting

2009-12-17T15:27:00.004-05:00

Another day, another bout of knitting ennui. Four hats in three days nearly did me in, but I don't get to stop. This train to knitting hell has a few more stops to make before I work the button tab hat out of my system. To change things up, I'm doing a 'turn a square' hat as well. No charming button tab to lure me to the big finish, but I do love me some raglan decreases. Monday/Tuesday Mandi has decreed that Mr. Hottie UPS Man needs a Christmas cap as well... *sigh*
My bloodied and broken fingers need to get back to work.

A shipment of Opal sock yarn arrived today. It was all "ooohs" and "aaaahs" as I unpacked it. Gorgeous stuff. I confess I look forward to new Opal far more than any other yarn in the shop.

I was fine till I noticed the accordion with huge bosoms splayed above it, then the Snow White-style corset...the baby-doll nightie, and then (so good I just HAD to show you here), the pink Tyrolean rig... really? Sex on a yarn label? Come on.
Then I thought about it a while. Sex sells. Of course it does. And isn't that your first thought when you look at a ball of sock yarn?
Apparently, it should be.

lil' miss saturday night

2009-12-12T19:53:00.002-05:00

So, there was a new shipment of needles what arrived at Clementine's yesterday. Everytime a reorder was placed, I cringed a little inside, because I knew this day had to come.
The day of reckoning with the inventory lists.
It is upon me.

I spent a small portion of the workday swapping out titles of things, because as obvious as I thought I was being, not everyone looks at a package of Crystal Palace bamboo double point needles and thinks "BAM NDL" when ringing up a sale. Now they are all listed as CP and the 'whatever it is', like 8" dpn sz7.

Perfectly reasonable. And prolly a damned sight easier than trying to explain why other brands of bamboo needles weren't BAM NDL.

And to think I thought this would be simple. Go on. Go be crafty. I haz more typen to do...

Dear Clementine...

2009-12-11T11:08:00.004-05:00

As some of you know, Thursdays are my cut-loose night. Eshewing a proper 'knit-night', I have instead taken up belly dancing and whiskey. A fair trade, one leaving me both more flexible and relaxed where concerns of commerce are concerned. In my stead, and again addressing issues of commerce in this era of a democratically elected(?) recession, Clementine's hours have been extended to 8 p.m. on Thursday evenings. The addition of Robin L., crafty chica extraordinaire, has made this possible.
Some evenings she has a stack of stuff to stay occupied with. There's always fat qwattahs waiting cutting, and her eye for detail and color is a much appreciated jewel in Clem's tiara. Last night, as I dashed from the building, I dumped the four-patch doll quilt blocks in her lap. Hey. Back off. She asked what I needed help with, and this is a pressing matter of some import. I came in this morning to find this letter laying atop the cutting table, along with a partially assembled quilt:

It is now 10:15 p.m. and Robin is preparing to leave the building. Her religion left about 90 minutes ago.
Having discovered that she did not have her reading glasses, she felt sure her major difficulty in piecing a doll quilt would be her inability to see clearly while sewing. That was not the case. Apparently, Robin was dropped on her head as a baby and the damage done has been very slowly taking away her ability to put together colors in a random fashion, for, try as she might, she cannot produce a pleasing composition without having two of the same fabrics next to one another. Not normally a quitter, she is throwing in the towel on this one. Perhaps after consuming a sufficient amount of gingerbread lattes from Starbucks (or rum from her own cupboard)-possibly, nay, likely, both, she will recover her dignity along with the ability to construct a sentence with more skill than an ESL student. She holds hope in her heart that she will cease referring to herself in the third person, too. She hopes you have a lovely day. Feel free to leave the quilt top to be finished next week. Robin feels that consuming the Bacardi before she begins sewing may well do the trick. Thank you and goodnight.
p.s. there's water in the iron.

So there you have it. I have driven another soul to the demon liquor. Of course, I cannot in good conscience leave the quilt top to her ministrations now, without appearing both callous and spiteful...
unless...
unless I leave a fresh bottle of rum next to it.

busy, busy

2009-12-09T15:35:00.001-05:00

Up and coming project at Clementine's... Miss Deb has made the shop sample and come February, we're running with it. Fast, easy, and fun. "Child labor in third-world countries" easy. Practice sewing your straight seams, 'cuz you're gonna wanna play with us. Workshop date to be announced. Start collecting your fat qwattahs now...

For the last-minute-lucys out there... the gift of socks is always a good idea. I made it simple, with yarn, pattern, and needles all in a bag. Fits easily into most stockings. I know the idea of shoving sock yarn into another sock should be appalling, but I just can't seem to work up a good rile against it, so I'm coming out to say I'm all for it, and irony be damned. As these are 'some assembly required' (okay, all assembly required, geesh!), they are so much more than the temporary thrill that comes from stripping off the wrapping paper. Give the gift of craft to someone you love this year. It'll last a lifetime.

It seems there was a little mix-up at the Michael Miller warehouse this past week, and a wee bit of the Paula Prass I ordered back in the summer finally shipped out. The 'feature' fabrics aren't here, but what did arrive is so darned fabulous, I'm not even caring about those birds. Aprons, pajama pants, bright and bold quilt blocks... this stuff is so much fun I'll prolly have to bust out the sewing machine this week...

especially for some lime green and aqua Eiffel Tower lounge pants. (above, fourth from left. drool.) This sewing, of course, will come after I finish the wee dolly quilt for stuntknittahredrhonda's daughter.

Perhaps I'll come up for air again before Christmas hits.
If you don't hear from me, send cookies. Lots and lots of cookies.
It's my holiday coping mechanism.

progress report

2009-11-06T17:04:00.001-05:00

hello? is this thing on? didn't mean to fall down a rabbit hole, but the home computer wheezed it's last the other night... there's a whole story about a stink like burning band-aids and computer shopping with a kid whose jacket smelled like cat urine, but that'll have to keep for later. for now, lemme show you this:

the 'serendipity scarf' ala cami. yeah. i had to start one. addictive. to the point of pain. winter coat a sedate charcoal wool. this scarf will stand and holla, y'all. i giggle every time i pick it up. that's actually a good thing.

down here, the 'authentic' collection from sweetwater. yeah, it's moda. yeah, they mostly are damnable fiends for not reprinting their fabrics (thusly ensuring widespread panic and manic stashing amongst quilters when new lines are released)... much as i hate to admit it, this line sucked me in. here while it lasts. and yep. that is a bundle of all 34 fats.

here is monday/tuesday mandi. hauled her out to lunch at my new favorite place evah, the irish lion, in bloomington. we only tried four whiskys for lunch. she's a little lit in this pic. some yarn shopping happened, as well. somehow yarn spun from waste silk off the floor of an indian sari sweatshop ended up in my possession. no, you cannot see it... yet. people turn 60 this year, and they are nosy, greedy beings. i will not have my surprises thwarted.

new opal. there is, of course, way more than these few colorways, and another collection ships soon. selling the daylights out of the scarf kits, so clementine's opal consumption is way up. keeping a few balls of all the new stuff on the shelf, though, for the die-hard socksters out there.

time to get out the door. you go be crafty. smooches, pooches. c

Go look, but don't say I didn't warn you...

2009-10-22T12:43:00.003-04:00

Nothing good can come of dancing in public with duck feathers strapped to one's head, but do I listen? Of course not. Would I do it again? Most likely. This was to be my 'year of living dangerously', was it not?
Your curiousity is showing... go on. Have a look. I'll wait here.

p.s. Those scarf kits from two posts ago? Flying out the door! A HUGE thank you to Redrhonda for her superior stunt-knitting skilz, and to all the faithful/hopeful/cursed knitters who can't wait to make their own version... no two will ever look alike. Kind of cool when you consider how cookie-cutter some projects knit up. Release your inner Bohemian. Get one on the needles now. C

Haunted Hips Hafla

2009-10-14T15:11:00.002-04:00

Because I know that really good opportunities to embarrass ones own self come so rarely, and if I'm to make a spectacle of myself I'd much prefer a sympathetic audience, and because I get to see Anna so damned infrequently...
well, here's the info.

(Please use it for evil. I know you can.)

'Haunted Hips' hafla to be held Saturday, Oct. 17th at the
Imagine School's auditorium
2000 N. Wells St.
Ft. Wayne, IN. 46808

Festivities begin at 7:00 p.m. and admission is five bucks. Herr Becher and all assorted chirruns are coming to see what's the fuss with Frau Becher's new hobby. You can't possibly imagine what shenanigans we're up to, so come see for yourself. I. Dare. You.

bwahahahah

Serendipity scarf

2009-10-13T17:15:00.001-04:00

Redrhonda has been doing a bit of stunt-knitting for Clementine again. This time it was a reprisal of the mitered squares, ala 'modern quilt wrap', bit with less agonizing over color placement and those dreadfully wispy 'Kidsilk' ends to tangle with. Making it's debut and available already kitted up, the scarf in nine different 'Opal' self-striping yarns.

You either love it or hate it... but I personally think it's drool-worthy. This is also hyphen-day, apparently, so gaze on this beauty for a few moments and when you decide you can't live without it, call me. The kits are ready to mail out immediately.

as you requested...

2009-10-02T11:58:00.000-04:00

Seeing as how I'm not one to stand in the way of a girl and her cloth, here are the pics of the "Love" collection, the latest from Amy Butler. I can't express my relief at seeing a bright palette again.
The colors are richly saturated, with an unfussy, modern Balinese flavor...

Much to love about "Love". I'm hoping to make a fun 'English strippy' nap quilt from these. All of them. At once. Yeah, baby.
The latest colors to arrive from 'The Fibre Company'. This is "Road to China Light", a blend of baby alpaca, silk, cashmere, and camel. Bettah than buttah. It's naked yarn. Don't be coy. You know what I mean. Just one skein will make a decadent neck warmer, something to snug down into and nuzzle. Don't miss playing with this yarn!

Project updates: the 'pickle' scarf is on it's last ball of yarn, but the 'Feb. Lady' has taken over. Mine has been re-dubbed 'The Dragon Lady', as I've found the coolest pewter Celtic dragon clasps to close her up with. Button holes are not my friend, as evidenced by a wretched button hole swatch I killed the better part of a day with. In hindsight, a simple yarn over button hole would have sufficed for toggle buttons, but I'd already ripped back twice. A girl has her limits, ya know.

Posting info on the belly dancing kerfuffle in a few days. I'm still trying to pretend I didn't say yes. There was prolly whisky involved, but That Amy is holding me to it, evil task-mistress that she is. It's just a good thing she's cute... it's hard to detest cute people. C

just a note...

2009-10-01T12:47:00.003-04:00

for all the fabri-holics out there. *ahem* (mi-mi-mi-mi...) The new Amy Butler collection has just been deposited here at Clementine's by the sturdy and strong UPS man. I was so engrossed in slicing open the first box I neglected to hold open the door for the other two. He might have grumbled a little. I merely snarled at him and continued to unearth the pretty fabrics. Now I need to put it up on the shelf. Pics tomorrow. *mwah!* C

two weeks already?

2009-09-23T15:28:00.002-04:00

En route to my weekly nail beautification appointment this morning, I heard on the radio that Someone has discovered that as you age, a certain enzyme in the brain starts to decrease. It seems that the scientific Someone also discovered that it is this particular enzyme that acts as the 'little voice' in your head that keeps you from saying Inappropriate Things. What can we conclude from this? I apparently was thirteen going on thirty, which would account for my current, enzyme-deficient adjusted age of 56. This also explains several branches of my family tree. I'm just grate4ful (heh, heh. I love new nails!) to have a bona fide excuse, because letting people assume I'm always a wretchedly rude old battle-axe was growing tiresome. Nevermind that I 'prolly deserved it.

New yarns have been arriving in the shop. The 100% silk 'Alchemy' yarns are glorious. Knitting a mitered scarf, the "tres tres chic kerchief" in their Silken Straw as a shop sample. It's the kind of yarn that requires a certain level of nakedness to be properly appreciated. If you can't make it to your LYS to fondle firsthand, you have my sympathies. The Silk Purse yarn is the stuff of dreams. Also recently added are yarns from The Fibre Company. Excellent stuff, espcially the 'Road to China' and 'Organik' yarns. My 'February Lady' sweater is being knit in 'Organik' color 'crater lake'. It might be the best, non-pilling, merino/silk/baby alpaca blend ever. Evah. Srsly.

New knitters have been joining the ranks of the hand-craftily superior in droves. I think Clementine has been personally responsible, especially as she has thrown several cr*cheters at me. I can't help those people. I did order in some special yarn, for those hooker-y types. My allegiance has to end there. Do not ask me to sort out your loopy yarn mess. I. Don't. Know. How.
See, confession is good for the soul. All better now.

Last tidbit for the day... if you are in or near the Ft. Wayne area on the evening of October 17th, be advised that I, your intrepid fiber hostess, will be (forcibly) performing a bellydance. In public. With an audience. Of multiple humans. There is more to be said on this subject, but I cannot bring myself to type the words aloud without whisky, and I have to drive home in an hour. Suffice it to say, there are (in my case), leather and feathers involved. Why do I feel a youtube video coming on? Oh yeah... 'cuz it'll likely be up five minutes after we finish performing.

No, I'm not slurring... yet

2009-09-09T15:49:00.003-04:00

No photos. I have to burp the camera of it's many and varied collected snaps, and really, aside from the Magnificent Short-row Heels I just completed on some shockingly pink Koigu, there ain't all that much to see. Oh, 'Pickle' has fully consumed the second ball of Malabrigo, so a dip into the yarn stash ('search and rescue', to be more accurate) for ball #3 will be required this evening. Love the cables. Easy pattern to memorize. Even with the PVC adhesive fumes leaking in from the construction project next door. Not to worry, once the dizziness wears off, so does the urge to faint/puke/cry. The upside is that the weather has been gorgeous, so having the shop doors propped open hasn't been a hardship. See, I'm *such* a 'Pollyanna'. I can play the "glad game" all. damn. day. Cuz' I have the Bushmill's. And a spanking cute La Push, WA shot glass. Be prepared. With a penis, I'd have been a hell of a Boy Scout.

I'm gonna go tend to my socks now, as they are appallingly pink and in dire need of more ribbing. Toe-ups often become high-maintenance, which may cause them to become anklets in this instance. Don't push me. I may be re-dedicating myself to the simple beauty of the after-thought heel once these damn pinky-pies are off needles.

knitter, interrupted

2009-08-27T16:41:00.000-04:00

I am an erratic knitter. One of the sideline problems to not being able to consume copious amounts of my ADD medication is my already short attention span is constantly stuttering and hiccuping onto the Next Great Idea. Sometimes I can disregard these impulses. Other times I can channel them onto a 'list'. And sometimes inspiration trounces you unawares, say, at your mailbox, and you know you haven't got any choice but to trudge back to the haus, grab up those four skeins of "lettuce" Malabrigo worsted, and push the cat out of the way...

This is pretty much how messy my side of the bed is all the time, and you will notice I've set aside the super-steamy, sexy, hawt highlander novel for this, the 'Rivulet' scarf. Yeah, I'm still knitting away on sixty-eleven pairs of socks, have a gob (that is the official standard unit of measure) of raspberry pink silk/merino awaiting transformation into a sweate4r (oooh, look! e4 is back. Must be the new nails.), and have shelved all plans for home-organization beyond just knocking down the cobwebs in the kitchen before they try to beat me with my own tasting spoon... all because this would not be denied...

Every time I pull it out of the knitting bag, someone (No-Amy, just fer instance...) exclaims that it looks like a pickle. She may have accused it of smelling like a pickle, as well. The hazards of pub knitting. All that lovely knitted texture, cables done to perfection, and she likens it to a pickle. *sigh* It's growing pretty quickly, and my continental knitting skills have improved dramatically, what with all the purling required of this design. Texture is the new yoga.
What's not the new yoga: freezing on the beach. Here's a pic of the fandamnly (sans moi, the photographer). Lake Michigan, mid-August, just as the fog began rolling in. Looks like torture, right? Trust me, I was in no quick hurry to snap the picture and miss the cold crash of the surf around their ankles. I feel no compulsion what-so-ever to figure out the auto-timer on that camera. Nope. None.

business or pleasure?

2009-08-14T11:59:00.004-04:00

Tomorrow our Clementine turns two. Not the most earth-shattering announcement, but after the first year, I didn't expect to be tucking another anniversary under my belt. Embarking on year three in the face of the financial disaster currently riding the rails might seem like a doomed mission, but not for nothing do I come from tenacious a**hole stock. The knot is tied at the end of the rope. Commencing to hang on through the thick and thin of the coming year, secret stash of bourbon at the ready.
Today is 'Love Your LYS' day, according to the Harlot's page-a-day calender. Now, I get that she's a Canadian, she has unlimited access to 'Screech' (Newfoundland rum rocks!), and her depth perception may nay be so good, but, honestly... August? WTF? How freaking nuts is a yarn shop appreciation day in the heat of summer? I demand to know who is responsible for this abomination. It's nearly ninety degrees out, so humid even I have kinky hair today, and I'm supposed to believe that yarn shops around the world are rejoicing, reveling in their day of recognition. I can only shake my head and wonder at the desperation Ms.McPhee must've been faced with to feel compelled to pop that corker into her stack of fun factoids for her first-ever calendar...

Middle Child turned 10 yesterday, and had a celebration in spite of our last minute guilt trip to Milwukee. Getting home with exactly zero days to prepare for a child's birthday party tends to make a parent frantic, which leads to Bad Decisions... decisions like letting said child loose in the Barbie aisle, carte blanche. Oh yes, there was an overdose of pink and purple plastic in her shopping cart, which has had the added effect of turning her play space into something of a cat house, swathed in slutty dresses and replete with two alarmingly cheerful Ken dolls. *sigh*

no excuse for it

2009-08-08T13:56:00.001-04:00

It would seem I've become an Olympic-level participant in blog-avoidance. Not much to blog about, here in the heartland during the dog days of summer. Not complaining. Just trying to stifle the yawn.
Monday/Tuesday Mandi has shown a remarkable ability to talk me into the strangest things. Case in point: the creation of new yarn displays. I had a notion when the shop first opened about screwing paint cans to the wall, to display hand painted sock yarns. Imagine the shock on every one's faces when I pulled out of Lowe's with these in tow...

Yes, that's a roadster's-worth of cans. There were six more in the 'trunk'. Made a helluva racket driving back to the shop. The stares from men in tall trucks at stoplights were more than entertaining. Next up... remembering to bring in the drill to get the display built.

Still working on my Seattle disease... the skinny clap. Once it's finished I can go apply for my passport. That's what it takes these days to make progress. High-end bribes. I ordered gobs of 'Alchemy Yarns' and have future projects piling up aplenty, but this wee scarf is nearly done. Yay, me. To complicate matters, the skeins of yarn my clap is reposed on is still more of the 'Blue Heron Yarns' rayon metallic. The idea of a knitted tank won't go away, but since I'm trapped on the 'forever plateau' weight-loss wise, I'm hoping to put off the urge to knit clingy things for a while.

There's been a few new developments on the quilting front, the most alarming of which is my fascination with curved seams. Not the wavy, staggering drunk, careless seaming of a novice patch worker, but full-on, deliberate curves.

Yeah, baby. Gonna stitch it like I mean it... just as soon as I get my tired old machine to co-operate. This is the worst possible to for it to go all temperamental on me, but I'm learning to stop flinching and just roll.
That's all for now, my darling chicas. Clementine is starting a couple of knit-alongs for back-to-school. New yarns and fabrics arriving almost daily, which prolly 'splains my acute sense of impending doom. I did warn y'all not to use the words "stimulus package" in range of my hearing, right?

string theory

2009-07-18T14:59:00.002-04:00

New 'Farmhouse Yarns' fingering weight sock yarn. Lil' friend Susan requested it be caked up to show off the colorways better. Yes, it does make them prettier, and yes, she's quite smug about this.

Finally got around to finishing the 'beach glass' modern quilt wrap kit. Miss G will be knitting these bits o' fluff into submission. Me, I'm still knitting on my 'Blue Heron Yarns' clap. Five dropped stitches so far. Mandi has three. No-Amy is choking us with her knitty-dust. She's knitting like a woman on fire. Last time I checked she'd dropped ten stitches, but a day has passed, so I figure her's should be about finished. I'll try to mooch a photo of it for y'alls.

With the demise of our most beloved Amy Butler fabric lines ('Belle' and 'Lotus' are sadly discontinued), I thought it was time to package up some of those exotic prints into quilterly stacks of gooodness. Behold, fabric-mavens: the quilt-in-a-box. Twelve half-yard cuts of mixey-matchy cuteness, crammed into a recycled grape tub... 'cuz Miss Rob always brings me weird stuff to re-use.

The county fair starts today. Trailers full of four legged animals have been pouring into town, the rides are nearly set up, and my almost over-whelming urge to stomp over and order a deep-fried Snickers bar/dill pickle from one of those scary, carney grease-wagons is getting harder to resist. I also realize that it's been over half a year since I made an honest attempt at sewing anything, so tonight, whilst the chicken and noodles sit in the simmering oven, I'm hauling out the box of half-finished quilt tops and seeing what I can make 'go away'. The fact that we're having an unusual break in summer's torturous heat makes thinking about quilt tops seem nay so crazy. Maybe clearing some of life's thready excesses out of my closet will make it easier to look ahead to new projects with fresh, less jaded eyes...

quite done moping

2009-07-15T14:26:00.004-04:00

Sooo... boo, already. A month-long hiatus seemed just the thing to cure my blog ennui. Not for nothing am I known as the Procrastination Queen. That four of my five children have celebrated birthdays since the day after my return flight from Seattle, (with the resultant flurry of required activity that cake and gift-shopping beget) should be 'excuse' enough. Factor in a mild bout of post-vacation "Washington-is-more-fabulous-than-chocolate" depression, and you have the empty shell of me, able to do little more than drag my arse to yoga and belly-dance classes, drink double Bushmill's (neat, thank you), and stay up way too late reading romance novels. It has actually served to extend my vacation, delaying the pain of re-entry for a month. Now we're back into 'life as usual', the kids and Herr Becher are learning Japanese (Rosetta Stone rocks, btw), and I'm tagging along, knitting in hand, keeping the avalanche-prone laundry mountains from smothering anyone whilst they're the nether-regions of Becher Haus, and sneaking a clove smoke on the front porch when I need to hide from the noise of chirruns.

I was pretty sure I had photos of new sock yarns to show you, but Wednesday is nail day, so I dashed off without the proper equipment to photograph the 'Farmhouse Yarns'. Tho thorry. Now, since it's quiet here and tonight is movie night for the chirruns (we have to arrive early to get seven whole seats in a row), I'm going to go read some Scots romance/p0rn. A girl's gotta keep her mind active, ya know? C

Jamie's 'knitting'

2009-06-14T15:38:00.002-04:00

As some of you know, the concept of yardwork or 'landscaping' is foreign to the residents of Becher Haus. So, bearing that in mind, allow me to show you a few scenes from the grounds around 'chez jamie', the other half of Miss G.

Digging in the dirt is Mr.G's knitting... his happy place, which is now festooned with everything from strawberry-scented roses to avocados and kiwi. The Scottish moss was my favorite... he let me dig my toes into it. Now, to wrangle an invite back to the house of hounds...

water and rabid foxes

2009-06-14T15:20:00.000-04:00

glacial waters cascading down mt. rainier. i made it down the path for the photo-op, and discovered my inner mountain goat on the way back up.

golden fox, parking lot, paradise base camp, mt.rainier. "don't touch it, it might have rabies". i wasn't always so paranoid... but look how crazy he looks.

scenic view from an edge of cresent lake. we came, we saw, we smoked.

cutesty shoes what cost more than the average plane ticket. i didn't even get in deep trouble for these... perhaps that shoe is still waiting to fall...

more pics to follow...

squawk

2009-06-13T11:35:00.001-04:00

Miss Fiona, one of the French bulldogs-in-residence at 'So Much Yarn' in Seattle. This creature tongue-bathed my legs and broke her licker... as you can plainly see, it no longer retracts. The yarn-ladies were lovely, and apparently adept hypnotists. I left with a gob of yarn earmarked for another 'Clopotis'. As I said before, it was a drinking day.

Deception Pass. Headed out to Whidby. I have a photo showing the perpetually pissed face I made every time I got near a bridge, but my pride doesna allow me to show it to you... yet. I brought the good scotch in with me today, so maybe later. Suffice it to say, a lot of Xanax was consumed so that Melly and crew could get me to...

here. For all you Sandra Bullock fans, this is a bit of Coupeville, the wee hamlet where the street scenes for the movie 'Practical Magic' were filmed. The building on the far right is the 'potions' shop from the movie. In real life, it's a gift shop filled with fabulous scents and bobbles. I snagged a gaudy, beaded necklace as my souvenir. Loved the island; the nerve-shattering bridges and breath-taking views were a bit more formidable than I expected.

Another unexpected delight: taking the ferry back to 'civilization'. We'd arranged to meet Miss G at 'Great Yarns' in Everett for knit night. The ride was fun, and the harbor views couldn't have been more charming.
Tomorrow: Cami meets the scary mountain and shows off her souvenir shoes...

four thousand words (subtitled)

2009-06-12T13:37:00.000-04:00

Arriving in Washington: view of Mt. Rainier from port-side of plane.

Self-portrait at the gum wall. My apologies to the other 'touristy types' who may have been offended at my gum offering to Melly. We're not lesbians, we just play them on t.v. (another story for another time, I assure you...)

Tahoe, the fish-launcher. I so totally did want to catch a fish in the market, and between the Jameson's and Miss G's coaxing, managed to do so twice. Smelled of salmon the rest of the day. Too drunk to care. The Alibi Room rocks, btw. If you're local, or in Seattle for any reason, head down to Post Alley and tell Corey hey.

Flower market femmes. I was dawdling to smell some lilies, and looked up in time to see I was being abandoned...
More pics to follow. Next up, views of Whidby Island, a scary bridge, and the most amazing yard evah. Landscaping is Jaime's 'knitting'... and he's damn fine at it!

little things

2009-05-22T22:24:00.002-04:00

I haven't had much to say lately. The blog had become too much about the shop, and not about why I started blogging in the first place, which was to have a place to put all the strange, weird, and wonderful crap that was accumulating. I was house-bound with five children, Clementine's was just an idea, and typing seemed more fun than muttering to myself.

Fast forward to the middle of May, 2009...

I've devoted the past three weeks to building my tolerance for whiskey. Wild Turkey and Jameson's Irish are my favs. This doesn't seem useful to the casual observer, but next summer's pub crawl across Ireland will go much smoother if I can drink and stay dressed. Not sure what the public intoxication laws are like there, so it's really best not to tempt fate. The last thing I need is to wind up in a dirty Irish jail because I got drunk and showed someone my tattoos.

Today was the onset of another town fish-fry, but buffered somewhat by the addition of the Strawberry Festival. Seriously. The whole town was staggering drunk by 7:40 this evening. As a thoughtful shop-keep, I had laid in an extra supply of toilet tissue and paper towels. Tomorrow will be more of the same smelly fish stink, coupled with the air-conditioning repairman's efforts to make things cold. I was such a sweaty mess by the time I got out of the store today I nearly decided to peel my legs out of my jeans and drive home butt-ass nekked. I didn't, but I reserve the right to do so tomorrow. I might even wear full-seat panties so I don't have to rip myself off the leather, fruit roll-up style, once I arrive home. Ouch.

Nine days until we (the Melly, the Mandi, the No-Amy, and me) leave for Seattle and parts northwest. Planes, trains, and automobiles... and a big boat, will all be employed to move and entertain us. I have put my foot down about the three hours of dinner theater with the dancing midgets. Sure, it's only $104.oo for the meal, but that doesn't include drinks. How much alcohol it would take for me to sit calmly whilst sword-swallowers and bearded ladies cavort with midgets... at the tables... is kind of an unknown factor, but I'm pretty sure I'd be paying handsomely for the THREE HOURS of torture. At least two hundred bucks. No, we're knocking over a liquor store and hauling our drinkies poolside. Melly's grilling us a red onion pizza. Maybe she'll sing for us while she's at it.

the week in review

2009-05-09T13:24:00.001-04:00

I tend to go 'all in' when it comes to my hobbies. Getting the chance to proof-read and edit Karen's newest installment was definitely a high point of the past week, though it sheds some troubling light on what appears to be the latest in the string of addictions...
behold, the Post-It flag, in all it's glory...

Melly has loaned me her girl-child's stripity stockings for use as a shop sample. These just went up Thursday, so if you need to fondle them to talk yourself into the yarn, by all means, do drop by.

Lastly, a new customer brought her 'baby' in for a wee bit of shopping. His name is Spot, he's a bit short of leg, and is five months old. Super cute. Just had to share him. Do NOT go get another damn chihuahua. Yes, Aliya. I'm talking to you.

Now I'm off to watch the mens spread the tar on the parking lot across the street. Ooh. No I'm not. It's crackville over there. I think I need to go wash my eyes, instead. Ugh.
p.s. My crazy Aunt in Alabama has started a blog. I believe it's some sort of therapy. I would counter that mayhap it's too late, but go take a peek. Funny, terrible stuff. From the mind of an evil genius... and blood relative.

super-secret editing gig underway

2009-05-01T11:08:00.003-04:00

Just a quickie-update. 'Korin Bridges' dropped off a draft of the third book in the 'Sisterhood of Secrets' series yesterday (the link is to the second one, currently making the rounds). I'm going after it with pen in hand, and having a fabulous time. Of course, by the time I'd gotten through the sixth chapter I was in dire need of a cigarette and fresh panties, but all I can say is you won't be disappointed.
Back in a bit. You go be crafty. I have some serious 'editing' to do...

not quite 'tit's up'

2009-04-29T19:30:00.003-04:00

Okay. I officially suck at this blogging thing. It seems I turn my back for uno momento and wham, another week has escaped. What the hell, huh? As it turns out, I do have an excuse... or a scape-goat, rather. Everyone, this is Kyle. Kyle, this is Everybody.
For those in the know, The Bresticles have had a trying couple of years. Six trying years, precisely. Six years of being reconstructed breast-bastards... six years of 'Frankenboobs'. Well, gentle readers, not anymore. I spent Tuesday night bare-chested in a somewhat clinical-looking chair while Kyle Hels tattooed my nipples back into existence. He was uber-professional about having a hausfrau in his chair, and seventy-five minutes passed by like nothing with fun, friendly bantering whilst he painted in the new 'details'. Under all that ink lurks the heart of a philosopher and healer, so if you've been considering a permanent addition, stop in and see him. You rocked the new nipples, Mr. Hels. Thank you.

I was quite well behaved, so those of you who were privy to the "grab an ink-artist in your thighs and squeeze him till you hurt" um, fantasy, need not worry. No tattoo dudes were injured in the making of my nipples. It wasn't even really painful until I got back home. Leave it to me to remember on the second Percocet that said drug winds me up just a tick. Two hours of barely unconscious rest was my punishment. The new nippies are doing great, however, and were graciously shared with all interested third parties today at the shop. The strangest thing is having to be aware of them at all. After six years of the silent treatment, having them rail for attention from inside my bra is a little disconcerting. (Apparently, those lil' chicas just like it rough. *snark*)

What's going on around here now? Book Two has made an appearance. I caught the author soaking in a foot bath at the nail salon and snagged my signed copy. I begged to help edit Book Three, and she accepted, so, if in fact I do get my hands on it, expect clearer sentence structure and zero typos.
This story moves along at a pretty good clip, and I didn't have to twitch too much over the weird punctuation. (Srsly, K. Book Three? Let me fix it.)

Gratuitous bloom shot for Miss Rob, who insisted I needed to put flowers on the blog. She takes a lot of medication, y'all. Don't judge.

I meant to at least get back around to lemon pound cake, but my ebullience over my new ta-ta accessories has me a kinda exhausted. C

just a tidbit

2009-04-25T11:11:00.002-04:00

Yesterday turned out to be quite the day for interruptions, especially where the interwebs were concerned. Blogging from the haus has become a filthy nuisance, what with all the connection issues the air card has been experiencing. Blogging from Clementine's has been equally fraught with woes, but the alternative to 'interruptions' would be an alarming lack of patrons, so I'll gladly take the consequences.
I've been meaning to show y'all this, the 'Sun and Surf Halter', from Amy Butler, for a long while. Miss Gaylen made it as a shop sample for Clementine months ago. I was waiting until the weather was agreeable and the muses of creative displays made it possible to show it off to it's best advantage...

which, as you can plainly see, I was forced to give up on and just take some snaps of the thing. It's more charming on, and in person, and whilst it's gotten many oohs and ahhs in the shop, it isn't until people actually pick it up that the admiration for this simple summer top begins to build. Stunningly simple, and, according to some seasoned stitchers, not too much of a headache to build. You might just need one.

Today I am being visited by our dear Melly. She doesn't know it yet, but I'll be abandoning her to sneak off to a book signing for a wee bit. It would appear that the second book in the 'Sisterhood of Secrets' is now available. Even with lazy editing and a tragic lack of pronouns, there is no way I'd miss it! More later... C

hold that thought...

2009-04-23T16:29:00.000-04:00

I'm not dead, just diverted. Blog-silence will officially be over tomorrow. Tonight is belly-dance class. Gotta get my jingles on...

and so, I leave you with a few words and phrases to consider until tomorrow. Ebullience. Tyranny. City parking. Sock knitting as anger-management. Polka dots. Lemon pound cake.
What does it all mean?
Careful. I might just tell you. Sleeping more than two hours a night again, so my brain and fingers may be able to make amends and allow a few stories loose for your perusal. Till Friday, then. C

socks and stuff

2009-04-10T16:16:00.000-04:00

A new sock, in what's become an 'old standby' pattern: the 'mockery' sock. Gift yarn and needles courtesy of Miss G. (It's not further along, so my one-done-by-Easter plan is kaput.)

As promised, the custom colors have arrived. If you needed 'Air Kiss' or 'Smooches, Pooches', shoot me an e-mail at camillaknitsATgmailDOTcom and it will be on it's way to you super-quick. The samples are hanging in the shop... yes, one is still wearing it's needles, but the heel flap is underway. It's still fabulous.

More yummy yarn goodness. Most of you know I have a penchant for candy-colored anything, but the 126 colorway, aka 'Brachs' neopolitan' as we dub it, Is. In. The. Shop... Now. For how long, I cannot say. I only ordered the two bags. I guess I'm kinda bitchy that way, huh?

The latest additions to the line-up of Oliver + s patterns. All the gaps in stock have been filled, so if sewing clothes for tiny humans is on your to-do list, these are perfect.

Just yesterday I realized I hadn't done a proper job of being a prepared Easter Bunny, so I'm getting ready to remedy that this evening. Oh, to be sure, I medicated with Hershey's Kisses. One can't sugar-shop on an empty stomach! Have a restful rest of Good Friday, and a wonderful Easter/Passover week/insert pagan holiday of your choosing here. Spring is here and not to be denied. Oh, and The Fertility Goddess called. She wants you to eat a chocolate bunny. Now.

waiting to inhale

2009-04-03T13:56:00.001-04:00

Another long blogging vacation. I couldn't locate the camera battery charger, but unable to blog anyway, what with the comment from the previous post sending me into repeated fits of giggles. Apparently someone hasn't a clue about my Lucifer reference, but those of you with triple digit I.Q.s got it, so it's all good. And I don't do 'thinly veiled' anything, so you can understand my lack of posting lately. Hard to type while holding my ribs, shaking with uncontrolled laughter.
Here's a smattering of the new Blank Quilting fabrics. Told you they were retro and kitschy-cute! There's more on the way... there seems to be no way around back-orders these days.

A little surprise in the birthday box from one of my imaginary friends. In light of me being a 'racist/bigot/homophobe', I shouldn't even show these to you, but the talented woman who made them for me is a dear, and these Mammies are so stinking cute. Won't they look fab hanging on the AGA... oh, wait... does that constitue a lynching? Oh dear...
While I'm on still on the soapbox, I think everyone has to stop using inflamatory words like mocha, chocolate, black, brown, mahogany... and I'm pretty sure Oreo cookies are off limits, too. Good God, leftists. Get a little Jesus. We're humans. All of us. The packaging doesn't matter. Content does. That's why the obamoron bothers me so. His skin tone has nothing to do with his ineptness. Geesh. Pardon my opinions...

alas and alak

2009-03-26T11:41:00.002-04:00

The old adage 'if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all' seems to have me tongue-tied around here lately. It isn't that I don't have blog-fodder... I just can't say what's on my mind without risking the wrath of the Socialists. Seriously, though, every time the obamoron opens his damn mouth, the stock market takes a dive and people start to freak out. It seems to be occurring to some folks that they may have made a mistake when they voted for their Dark Prince. I've noticed lots of crappy little cars missing their 'obama' stickers around here. Sobering up's a bitch, huh? Welcome to reality. Glad you could make it.

Not to change the subject, but the store is crammed to the gills with new fabrics. Without the camera, I can't show them to you just yet, but they are retro, kitchy, and super-cute, without being too 'Leave it to Beaver'. Just some happiness. Who can't use some of that? Tomorrow we will have the big reveal of the new stuff, provided I manage to recharge the camera battery.

Melly has me reading a horrid, wretched, yet strangely beautiful book. I hate to even mention it here, as it has an 'Oprah's Book Club' sticker on it, and, as founder of the Overcoming Oprah recovery group, I feel like I'm committing a betrayal, but 'The Road' is proving to be an interesting read. Granted I'm only on page 97, and have been bitterly sad over the whole concept of the story, but, knowing it can't end well, I'm still curious enough to see how it plays out. Now I have to go 'play store'.

random bits of happy

2009-03-20T17:04:00.000-04:00

The stash of Heather Bailey's fabrics has been added to... it doesn't fit all on one shelf anymore, and that's even with all the 'skinny' (nearly gone) bolts.

More newbies, and a couple of old timers hanging out together. Love the brown floral. Reminds me of old wallpaper.

Added to the Amy Butler stash... red 'Garden Maze' and ice 'Happy Dots'. It's scary how much better they look in person. I wish I had a fabric rep that made more frequent stops here. Seeing things 'fer realz' really helps!

The smattering of the 'Snow Flower' collection (Dana Designs by Free Spirit). I want a skirt with this giant floral on it, but I keep having flashbacks to Mrs. Roper's muu-muus. So, maybe a bag? A robe? The back of a quilt? Yep. That might have to be it. Gotta go now. It's movie-release day at midnight. Who needs sleep anyway?

Hit 'play' and go on

2009-03-20T00:01:00.002-04:00

I used to be a blogger. Sort of. Kinda. Maybe. This week has been a weird, tough row to hoe, and I wasn't even the one behind the plow, but that didn't stop me from getting pulled along for some of the ride. As Melly 'splained to y'all, my mixed-up, crazy Gran died Tuesday night. It's sad to have her gone, but also a huge release from all the anger, hurt, and frustration her Alzheimer's was causing the family. She is free of her corporal body and it's disease. Where that leaves her daughters is still anybody's guess. No excuses here. She was a tough old bird who did stuff to confound the people who tried like crazy to love her, but I choose to remember the woman who always had time to make my cousin Ryan's favorite peanut butter candies, always shared her secret stash of 'Fiddle-Faddle' while we watched her 'stories', and always let me squish the Lipton's teabag after I was done drowning the Lorna Doones in my teacup. Life is complicated enough without needing anger management classes for your next of kin postmortem. Keep the happy. The rest is not for us mere mortals to deal with.

As someone who likes to keep her head down when trouble is afoot, I've buried (no pun intended, I assure you) myself in distractions this week. What follows is a partial list of where my head's been since Saturday night. Reading like a fiend has always been my refuge. 'Evermore' (loved it), 'Betwixt' (ugh. don't bother.), the entire 'House of Night' series (yes, I am an addict, but there's only the five books so far), and, in case you think I never venture out of the teen vamp novels, there was a borrowed copy of this, that was so good I plunked my dollars down for my own copy immediately after staying up till nearly 4 a.m. to finish it in one sitting. Yes, my bum was sore. Yes, it was worth it. No, it isn't for the faint of heart. Yes, I will be embarrassed if caught reading it again. No, that won't stop me.

After catching a flick with some trouble-making pals Sunday afternoon, I also may have accidentally ended up with this in my possession. Trust me, I'm appalled at myself. I'm blaming my advanced age and apparent lack of common sense. Or those bizarre mid-life hormones. Dunno. After nearly fainting at the cash register to purchase said book (I actually lost the power of speech. Me.), I just thought I'd let you all in on the joke. Pretty sure Melly thought I wouldn't 'fess up to the reading materials what have been in my hands this week. Pretty sure I'm gonna wish I'd just deleted this post later, too, but what the heck. She's already outed me on the Canadian Club for Thursday's lunch.

Thursday morning brought all sorts of things to Clementine's, besides the slightly buzzed shop-keep. New fabrics arrived, new knitters were met, and the toilet explosions happening over at the local cafe were avoided by us, though the coffee-chicas had to endure a knit-pit full of knitters as they beat a path over to use our non-burping facilities. Poor lil' friend Susan. Her toilet burped twice. Ugh. Photos of sock yarns and fabric tomorrow. I'm swearin' off the sauce. Keeping it close for 'medicinal purposes', though. C

designated blogger

2009-03-19T19:29:00.001-04:00

because friends don't let friends blog drunk. yes, drunk. at 11:30 this morning.

seems clementine opened shop for cami today. girl was due a break. cami's grandmother died last night, so there was a wee bit o' celebrating grandma's life at clementines today. hope none of the patrons were scared off permanently. in lieu of flowers, please send whisky.

it is always sad when those we love are no longer with us, but it was time for grandma to go. she's in a better place to be sure. grab hold of that, cami and find you some peace.

melly here, commandeering camillaknits again for HRH (her royal highness) to share some shop shenanigans. clementine's was a fun place today!

noemi and i are doing a little knit-along on the modern quilt wrap. it is a gorgeous piece, knit with rowan kidsilk haze - what we like to call knitter's crack. call clementine and get you some!

here's no-blog robin trying to weave amongst all the giggling madness:

and here i am sporting a sock cami knit with a heel gaylen convinced her to try. cami's not a fan, but i think i like it! especially for self-striping yarns. always something new to try with knitting. gotta love that!

that's about all i got for this here blog. cami is too busy reading to blog lately. she may need an intervention. why don't you ask her what she's been reading. go ahead. ask her. you just can't even imagine.

carry on crafty ones!

Not never, not no how

2009-03-13T18:36:00.004-04:00

Things at the top of my "don't even think about it" list for the coming year:

1.) Uninstall Adobe flash player, on Friday the 13th of anytime, especially while trying to process a credit card sale. Don't even ask. The fact that I still have fingers to type with after wildly scrambling to find the Quickbooks point-of-sale program in the under-counter squirrel's nest of a rat-hole that I call 'storage' at the shop would amaze you. I'm stunned to find the computer still in working order (I think), that I didn't scare the customer (I think), and that the list of silent expletives I rattled off in my head was so consise. I accidently forgot to open the drive before shutting the whole, god-forsaken mess off so the disc is still sitting in the computer, but tomorrow is another day.

2.) Forget to lock the door when the shop closes. You never know when one of those 'kill me now' projects will come waltzing in two minutes after closing. Also, until someone prints and distributes the self-help pamphlet entitled 'no, you cannot match cheaply made, mass-produced, licensed character bedding with anything other than cheaply made, mass-produced, low-grade Chinese fabric, so pick another project, please', be sure to have a fifth of Canadian Club with you, should you need to browse the offerings at Clem's. I am always amiable, willing to offer assistance, and have the patience of a martryed saint, but some sort of numbing agent is required if I've already survived #1.

3.) Debate for an entire day if having the shop open on the day the city decides to 'power flush and vacuum' the sewer system is really a good idea. Obviously, if you have to saran-wrap the toilet closed and run water down all the p and j traps, this could be a smelly, disasterous day. Also, wavering as to whether being open on go-kart day is equally dumb. If part of the 'track' is the city street in front of your store-front, and all the parking in town will be taken up with trucks, trailers, and greasy-food vendors, the answer is a resounding no. Knitters and 'sewists' are not shoping with abandon whilst still being supportive go-karting enthusiasts. Perhaps on a different day. Plan on no Clementine for August 1st. I will have my fingers tightly wrapped around the bottle in #2. And probably rocking myself in a corner, chewing my hair.

In other news, yes, the birthday fairy did magic up a flatscreen for me, no, the psychic reading was not the evening of 'fun for all' we thought it would be, and perhaps, when you're so desparate for new reading material that the 'heartwarming, inspirational romance' novel that comes free in the mail and begins with a forlorn cow on page one... and you read the whole thing anyway... it's time to head to the damn bookstore already. Luckily, the B&N gift cards came today, so book shopping commences tomorrow after work. Promptly at five. C

Thirty-nine, take one

2009-03-10T19:36:00.004-04:00

Birthday week isn't officially over, but today was the 'run around like mad and endure the BMV for a spanking new driver's license' day, which culminated in the melting down of the three-year old's tolerance for all things birthday-ish. We did, however, make it through dinner out before he decided to become the turd in the punchbowl. I refilled the Xanax prescription, though, so no harm will come to him this day.

This morning I spent some time pondering the tiny webs of lines under and around my eyes. I don't look any worse than yesterday, but I know the day of reckoning is waiting for me. The day I look in the mirror and don't even know the old woman staring back at me. I should probably keep wearing her jewelry, though, just in case. Alzheimer's runs in the family now, so a few, constant visual clues would probably be a good idea. Medication helps, too. I didn't flip out over Herr Becher's side trip to file paperwork at a bank (en-route to my birthday dinner!), or the giant armadillo that patted me on the head whilst we were eating our steaks. So calm was I, that I refrained from wrenching the poor thing's head off. And Melly thinks I shouldn't be armed. I believe there's a betting pool in place already as to how soon I'm going to need bail money...

Now I'm off to get rested up for work tomorrow. My tiara wants polishing and I have a sock to finish.

Surprise

2009-03-08T20:52:00.000-04:00

I'm not the easiest person in the world to surprise, so you can imagine my shock when Herr Becher came home from work today with this... a slightly premature birthday cake. Adding to my stunned reaction was when the big unveiling revealed this...

All hail Kim Tosino!
She's the driving force behind the annual Halloween bashes (forcing my hand- and my head- into those crazy witch hats last October!), and, when she's not off being a super-nurse, she bakes like a fiend. This behemoth was layered with chocolate mousse, covered in ganache and chocolate shavings, and contained three layers of the densest, moistest chocolate cake. Evah.

Is there even a point to getting on the scale tomorrow at Weight Watchers?

The mister had decided to order this cake right after Ron, Kim's husband and fellow air-traffic controller, brought it to the Thanksgiving pitch-in. She had full creative control over the theme, and due to my rabid love of the 'Twilight' series, she found a way to let me bite The Edward, since it can't happen the other way 'round. *chocolate sigh*

You go be crafty. I'm riding a sugar high. Thanks, Kim!

They keep dribbling in...

2009-03-06T16:10:00.000-05:00

The Fed Ex man just dropped off a box of back ordered yarn. It would appear the 'Lanaloft' finally decided to make an appearance. Here's 'twilight' (that's it's given name, but, yeah, I might have been swayed a little...)

and 'coral reef'. Pretty painted yarns. Not sure with whom they will end up. Miss Lori has a penchant for shrinking her knitting. I may have to get some of this into her hot little hands for her next fulled wool bag.

And, on another note, it's starting again. This is a partially completed 'beach glass' Modern Quilt Wrap kit awaiting it's final three mates. Nestled into a bed of tissue paper, totally tempting the unsuspecting knitter, I expect this to be the colorway of the summer. Only four of them will have the cocoa brown in them, and two will have blackberry. The rest will be blues-y/greensy/pearly. All fabulous. Just not cookie-cutter. We do try to mix it up a little around here.

Another quiet day at the shop. I'm going to go finish knitting the toe of strong-heeled sock, the first. It's not Trekking 181, but 150. I spent a bit of time on the website sourcing yarn and made the discovery of my error. At any rate, the second sock will not be so painful, as I have a plot to revise the heel-turn decreases. Having printed instructions might have been helpful, but staring at the computer screen and improvising didn't kill me. Yet.

R.I.P.

2009-03-03T18:36:00.001-05:00

One of the main servants here at Becher Haus died the other day. My dear old dishwasher began putting up such a fuss (okay, more of a pissing and moaning contest) about the two (or three) loads a day that it was required to wash that, in order to survive the days here, I went out to Sears today and ordered up a new one. Saturday the new Bosch arrives, and the carcass of the old one will be hauled out... for a ten dollar fee. Seriously, they act like that's going to deter you from making them make it go away. I suppose there are tightwads who would rather pinch the ten bucks and spend half that on the gas to drive out into the backwoods to throw it in a ditch, but seriously, ten bucks? It made me giggle a little. It took me by surprise, though, that the saleswoman remembered us from the washer/dryer purchase back in the fall, but I guess there are worse things to be memorable for.

Today was a 'girl's day out' from Becher Haus, because the boys were all still sickly, and still more because the three-year-old has become a most vocal spawn of Satan in his misery. I just needed peace (relative), quiet (again, relative), and the open road, with some 'All-American Rejects' in the cd player. No-Amy burned me a disc, which I have loved from the word go, so I picked up the "enhanced" version and their previous disc, seeing as how I was braving Best Buy anyway. I mean, once you've managed to find a parking spot, what the hell. I should've gotten a flatscreen while I was at it, but I'm still hoping the birthday fairy will remember. He has a few extra days off between now and my birthday... I might have to start leaving post-its everywhere.

Things are relatively calm here at present, so I'm going to sneak off to read/knit/nap, as the mood strikes me. Tomorrow I have a paperwork snarl to sort through, so that I don't make Deb cry as she helps me wade through getting it all together for the tax guy. Type at y'all latah, knittas. C

Random bits

2009-03-02T14:41:00.005-05:00

As you've no doubt seen from the previous post, Melly having access to your blog has it's downside. I feel kinda nekked now. Oh well, it's not like I haven't shown my arse in a myriad of other ways already...
Let me show you what Melly finished the other day. The same day her lovely daughter (the foot model seen below) brought me her boyfriend's cat. I'd show you a photo of the Lola, but she don't hold still so good. Rather, feast your eyes on these fancy socks. Trekking 126. It's ordered. I'm holding my breaths that we actually get it. Unlike my ill-fated reorder of the 'Tonks' from Opal. Damn Grrrmans. Getting all stingy with the sock yarns...

Sometimes you have a really big day. This was fabric shopping on steroids. Olympic-level stashing. Purchasing with a purpose. With the exception of the 3 yard cut on the far right, and a few 6 yard cuts, everything else is a five yard chunk of fabric. Miss K goes all in. She may be a bagaholic... she's real crafty, that one. She and her mister just moved into their home, so her sewing production has dropped off a bit, but I expect she'll bounce back in a big way... well, after she gets her seventy bag special order out of the way.

2009-03-02T10:16:00.000-05:00

Barely Breathing

2009-02-25T19:50:00.001-05:00

Just stopping in to let y'all know I'm still alive. Wretched sinus problems and Melly's croup conspired to leave me completely wiped out... so much so that very little progress has been made on the experimental 'Strong heel' socks. This is what I get for listening to That Gaylen. There was a five chapter agreement made if I could knit a pair up (it's a 'Twilight' thing, you wouldn't understand...), but the case of icks I have has made my hands feel like lead. Here's the progress thus far. That Gaylen knows how to throw down a knitting challenge. Be warned. She is ruthless and will taunt you with Screech even though you are clearly thousands of miles away...

I'm not a fan. Personally, I love heel flaps. They look snappy, they offer a break from the 'round and 'round bits of sockitecture, and they signal the approach of halfway done. This version of a sock (and I use the term loosely) just made me dizzy. And bored. But I will see this through, though I'm not sure who to inflict the finished product on.

Anne-Marie brought me more bags today. Redrhonda left with the cupcake bag so fast I didn't have time to snag a photo, so here are the remains. Two in Kaffe Fassett fabrics. Springy, colorful, and perfectly lovely.

And here be the crack bunnehs. I heart the cracked-out bunnehs. Yes, you have to say it that way now. It's obligatory. They get kinda pissy and will maul your knitting if you try to enunciate clearly. As chemically altered rabbits go, they're a good buncha bunnehs, though, so this bag might just get to be mine. Of course, as the day looms ever closer for A-M's daughter's move to Switzerland, we're doing our part at Clementine's to keep her busy and out of trouble... she left with fabric to make another handful of bags. Stay tuned.

New yarn has arrived. Always on the lookout for pretty bits of string, there is now a giant mess of yarn that needs re-organizing. Once it get it all gussied up I'll take a 'group photo' for the masses to see what's new. This is 'Handpaint Originals' from Brown Sheep. Not a new yarn, but a very recent addition to our string stable. I was thinking of another wrap when I ordered it, especially the colorway on the right. Pale, cloudy, beachy colors...

another 'Clapotis', perhaps?
See, I told you I was sick!

Urchins revisited

2009-02-19T00:01:00.004-05:00

Angie tagged me with one of those photo-meme thingies. Normally I'm not one for joining in the memes, but curiosity got the better of me and I had to go look. I've cheated a little, in that the fifth photo in the fifth folder was of a blurry Siamese cat, thoroughly up to no good, so I took a bit of license and swatted the scroll-bar, roulette-style, and took the fifth photo from where it landed. Still pretty far into the archives, this was from late April, 2007.

The spring rains had turned the drive into an unutterable mess, and, naturally, the children of Becher Haus decided it was high time to risk tetnus, diphtheria, and hook worm to have a go at being mud monsters. It actually got much worse than this, once they had their dad drive over the mud, rock, and wattle village they'd constructed... the garden hose was employed and they had to strip in the entryway before hitting the showers. It's amazing how much they've all changed in the past twenty-two months. Joey even has front teeth now! My thanks to Angie for making me take the time to go snoop in the 'cold storage' of the photo files.
Now, to do my bit of tagging: I know some of you take amazing pictures, so I'm going to tag Melly (even though she did this very recently), Gaylen, Tif (please, no scary desert creatures!), Steph (once you're recovered from Madrona, doll- no pressure!), and Ann. I'd also really love to tag Anna, but she's really not into the memes... still, her photos are drool-worthy, even when they aren't food related!

a post-script: the bags from the previous post are six to seven inches in diameter at the coiled base, and about thirteen (or so) inches tall.

Bagging it

2009-02-18T20:45:00.001-05:00

Anne Marie showed up with the first two 'clothesline bags' today. Handy for any portable knitting project, these stand-alone bags are so unbelievably charming I guess I shouldn't be surprised that they both sold the very day they arrived. This one went home with Miss Rob. It's done in Kaffe Fassett's 'paperweight' fabric.

Lori scored this one, in Amy Butler's 'french wallpaper' fabric. I was so enamored with these two that Anne Marie left with fabrics and thread to concoct four more. She works fast, so if you need one of these lovelies, just phone the shop and we'll hook you up. There's even a 'crack bunnies' bag in the works. Good, useful, and just plain fun. I can't wait to load up a sock project in my very own.

A slice of life at Becher Haus, captured and immortalized here on the blog. Young master Eli has finally discovered 'Lego' magazine, and has taken to turning our bed into his personal reading room. He dragged his pillow to our bed and converted it into his office, where he read until he passed out. Such a wee bit of cuteness, and my thanks to Melly for texting me at just the right moment. I'd had the camera poised, trying hard to avoid getting yet another photo of him squinting his eyes shut, when the chiming of my phone went off in my pocket. Presto. Perfect picture. Finally.

Tonight Herr Becher and I went to view a house for sale in the hamlet of Franklin. Perfect for a biggish family, even better for housing Clementine's. Not sure how things will play out, as we would have to sell the Knuckerhole (that's code for the current Becher Haus) quickly. So, if you know anyone with need of ten heavily wooded acres and an AGA, do send them my way. It'll work out if it's meant to, and I surely do hope we get to be 'townies' again. Type at you later. C

Unmedicated Stupor

2009-02-17T00:25:00.008-05:00

Yes, it's the wee hours of the morning and you have this man to thank for the unfortunate timing of this bit of posting. See, he just finished creating his post. While the world turned and he clacked away, I had been in the bed, reading and growing ever sleepier... until I evidently passed out, still clothed, book at my side.

Normally I don't crawl into bed without dosing up with the Xanax, so even if I dream, it's nothing I have to ponder upon waking. The problem apparently was that I'd had him bring me another cup of coffee (yes, I do still consider decaf coffee), and he set my shivering self up with the smooshy pillows and the heating pad. Bingo. Magic combination. Coupled with the hours he'd spent composing his rant against adult diapers and the Walmart clientele, my fragile brain never stood a chance. Care to know what woke me up? I'm gonna tell you anyway...

In the stupid dream, I was trying to sneak a frozen pizza (Monday was WW day. I held firm in my resolve not to lose an ounce this week.) in a ridiculous wood-fired wall oven. Behind me I suddenly am blasted with the sound of gun shots going off in the house. I start down the hall in the unfamiliar dream-house only to find two sheepish-looking men at the end of said hall, and the smell of fresh gunpowder. Turning, I can see gouges in the wall and, hearing police sirens getting closer to the house (on a corner lot in an urban neighborhood), I stalk angrily past the destruction to greet my 'visitors'. Once the cops are out of their cars, they ask me what's all the fuss about and I can only point to the huge holes in the side of my house and explain about the two dumb sportsmen who wanted to shoot skeet, but didn't want to break the law about "no discharging a firearm within city-limits". Because, somehow, being inside the house wasn't supposed to count...

One of the policemen picks up a casing from the ground. It's huge, and I realize that one of my houseguests is using a high-powered rifle instead. With a flip of his hand, the cop sends the empty casing back towards my house, where it shatters the entire glass door that leads to the side yard. Cursing and stomping back to the house (because, apparently, I get to ignore dream-cops), I resume some sort of kitchen duty that involves bread dough and not enough pans to put it in, and there's an annoying young woman following me around, determined to fill me in on her tragic love life. Finally, my husband steps into the kitchen to ask about me how many boxes of donut braids (I dunno what those are; just go with it) I want to take the kids. I'm puzzled by this, because there aren't any children around. Ugh. Time to wake up from this bizzare place...

See why I prefer the medicated stupor? And all this whilst unaware of Herr Becher's rant against growing older. But that old fart in the gov'ment car yesterday? He might have been one of the shooters. Now I'm wide awake at nearly one a.m. and blathering on. Time to hit the Xanax.
Also, for Anna and anyone else interested in the custom colors for the shop, I was told orders were 6-8 weeks out at Lorna's Laces. I ordered near the end of January, so it could be another month before I have those lovelies in my/your hands. Soon, though. I'm still knitting on the 'Smooches, Pooches' sample.

Muh culuhs ahh blush and bashful...sorry, didn't know a movie quote had to come popping out because I was thinking pink. G'night, y'all. C

All Sugared Up

2009-02-14T23:21:00.000-05:00

Well, it's the close of another day here at Becher Haus. I surprised the chirruns with huge honkin' bags of candy for breakfast, then was reminded about how that's really not the best plan when young master Eli lost his cool about an hour after dinner. The blood-sugar collapse was too much for him... it was almost too much for everyone else. A hot shower and some fresh jammies and his world seems right. I'm a little worried about tomorrow morning, though. They might be expecting chocolate bars for breakfast. Maybe I'll take them out for 'Cracker Barrel' instead. The day before 'fat church'. (I'll just have water, please.)

Miss G booby-trapped me. In today's mail, there was a box full of wonders. More sugar for the wee ones, some fun gew-gaws, some outrageous sock yarn with a 'heart' theme for which she will be punished, and finally, the super cute Amy Butler 'Sun and Surf' halter top which my far northwestern cyber-pal made for me to use as a shop sample. Yes, that is code for "it'll hang in the shop until I need to wear it", but only my accountant knows for sure. We don't speak of these things. Anyway, in my eager rush to see the super-cute top, I may have flung it out of the box, where it proceeded to ejaculate heart confetti (you so did not see that word coming, did you?!) all over the dining room table. And chairs. And rug. I think I have one in my bra, too.

Are you happy now, Gaylen?

She is sooo lucky they stopped making pink plastic flamingos. 'Cuz if I lived closer, and if I had about a hundred of those things, they'd be all in her yard. And her bra.

Strong heeled sock to commence in the a.m. Keep reading, chica. Game is still on.

Whoops...

2009-02-13T20:52:00.001-05:00

The 'Twilight' stole has died... again. If I told you how many times I've started this thing, I'd have to throw myself under a train in embarrassment.
Nine times. There. I said it. The pattern is labeled 'intermediate beginner'. I am so ashamed. I may have to take a few steps back before I re-attempt this. It's sad how little attention span I do have. Appalling. Really.

Here is the incomplete assortment of the 'beach glass' colors for the 'Modern Quilt Wrap'. Cocoa brown is missing. I took maybe five photos the other day, in preparation to show you the beautimous yarns all playing nicely together, and not once did it dawn on me that someone was missing. Gah. Drunk on stupid over here. Another round for me and my alter-ego, please, bar-keep.

Miss Jaime was a busy knitter. Started Sunday afternoon in the shop, this long wooly sock is knit in sportweight Louet 'Gems', with crack added in top, heels, and toes. She's got a fair bit of it's mate growing from her needles, as well. Yes, we are preaching the gospel of the Kidsilk Haze. Amen.

Gaylen is working her way through 'Twilight' (the book, not the devil-incarnate stole), and this post means she gets to read some more... yay! Have a wonderful evening. I'll be back with more fibery goodness later. The trains aren't running real regular anyway. C

Little gobs of happy

2009-02-12T11:31:00.002-05:00

The latest arrivals of Kidsilk Haze. The fluffy bits of bright colors make me giggle every time I walk past them. This could become problematic. I'm working on ditching the snorting half of the giggle-snort. It disturbs the older patrons.

This means, naturally, that kits are once again available for the 'Modern Quilt Wrap'. You have only to call the shop and one will be in your hot little hands asap. The beach-glass colorway is extraordinary. I'm rethinking my trip knitting. Or possibly just knitting away wildly with it and letting whatever happens happen. It's Kidsilk Haze. It's not like it could ever turn out ugly.

Here's the remaining colors of the Mini Mochi. I told you it was fabulous. I'm just puzzling over which colorway wants to be the official 'shop sample'. You know, the socks that will fit me
perfectly...
Is that so wrong?
p.s. Gaylen, you can move beyond the preface now. *snark*

Negotiable

2009-02-11T19:06:00.003-05:00

This post has to be brief, because the winds are picking up and the lights keep dimming in the haus. I was going to show you some of the new yarns that arrived yesterday, but Miss Rob already made off with the entire bag of one of the colors in the Mini Mochi from Crystal Palace. That is beautiful stuff. Sample socks will be a pleasure to knit. Must. Start. Soon.

Monday was a running day. The three boys needed haircuts to keep from looking urchun-ish, and my goal for the day was to be properly fitted for a new bra. I don't need to go into the gory details, but any tale that ends with me storming out of the Von Maur, even as Herr Becher is offering to buy me something fabulous from the perfume counter, isn't easily re-told. Sadly, I'm still sagging, wearing the same old 'Euphoria' scent, and strangely still pissed off at the supposed "professional undergarment fitters" that the department store purports to have on staff. I'm not even sure I can make myself go back, as I'd barely made it past the handbags and out the door before the tears stinging my eyes and closing my throat began to escape. That's something I'm going to have to conquer. The 'crying when I'm angry' thing is too crippling. Even Xanax couldn't help. By the time we got to the phone store I was pulled together (seeing a Volvo S60 in the Kinko's parking lot may have cheered me more than is really healthy, but it was silver. snark), except Helium Chipmunk was working, and I wheeled around so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. Got out in time not to require peeling her face off, and the very next day the Mister took me to a very different Verizon location to get the spanking new phone. If you're local to Greenwood, be advised the 31 south location near Whiteland is far superior to the 135 shop. Unless you're already heavily medicated. Mine hadn't kicked in yet.

I did say I'd be brief. Well, the power seems to be holding for now, and the point to this photoless post is really just to get Gaylen to read the 'Twilight' books. Negotiations were reached at a chapter per post. I've been wearing her down, sending picture texts of The Edward, begging in my whining-type. I'm glad she finally caved. My next move was to begin texting prime snippets of story, 160 characters at a time. Yeah, it was going to get ugly. Uglier than my shrinking boobs in their ill-fitting bra.

Photos of yarn tomorrow, poppets. And maybe a socks-in-progress update. Perhaps I should put them all together for one big scary group photo. That will prolly require 'Helium Chippy' amounts of Xanax. We'll see... C

A little bit of happy for Gaylen

2009-02-08T20:02:00.004-05:00

Some days at Clementine's are better than others. Saturday afternoon my monkey about fell out of it's tree when this fabulous coat (attached to it's charming seamstress)came strolling in. Polka-dots!

There I stood, mouth gaping, when she mentioned finding a matching satin lining. I'm not adept at garment construction. I only know it's often hazardous to the sewist-psyche. But what I knew, at that moment, was that if I didn't get a photo or two, Gaylen would kick my butt. Or refuse to believe me about the fabulous, Boden-esque coat that won the Indiana State Fair... yeah, it's a blue ribbon winner.

A little satin lining for your Sunday, Miss G. *Mwah*

Above and below. Those damn cracked-out bunnies. Stoner fawns. Tweaker bugs and birds. Yeah, the birds do look like robots. Then you get to the 'shrooms and the leaning trees and the totally 70's strawberries that keep giving me flashbacks to third grade. I feel like I should be wearing gauchos and smearing on lip gloss from a tin (the ones with the slidey lid... remember?) Okay, gotta run. The week was long, but second Sunday has netted us three new sock knitters. World domination can't be far away. C

Tastes Like Chicken

2009-02-05T19:11:00.000-05:00

Whoops. So much for trying to come up for air once in a while. Tuesday was spent in my pajamas, resting and reading and watching out the window at the incredible flock of birds we've suddenly amassed in this bitter cold. Our one Pileated woodpecker even came to the feeder, though he about knocked it down with his voracious appetite. The little birds were quite pleased to find him to be such a slob...

They totally cashed in, not only on the crumbs he knocked off the suet feeder, but I used the hungry, waiting audience to get rid of all the stray boxes of cereal and stale crackers. A few good whomps and smears with the rolling pin and the birds had enough for an all-day buffet. Meanwhile, Tuesday evening...

Herr Becher made dinner. I applaud the effort, but I think everyone at Becher Haus will agree that whole wheat pasta sucks, no matter how dolled up it is. The chunks of roasted chicken were good. The sauce he invented to dress the hearty pasta was delicious. But, at the end of the day, even the World's Ugliest Sweater could not be impressed.

I am so unimpressed with the World's Ugliest Sweater that I'm considering frogging the whole thing and foisting it off onto Goodwill. The problem will be that I've already got four of the six balls of 'Poems' spit-spliced together (it was a bit goat-y), so there's no way it's coming apart in one piece, or even four easy pieces. Breakage will have to occur. I have about five more hours of knitting progress than this photo would have you believe... I'm almost to the sleeves. Gah. And I've already bought two more balls of another yarn (Rowan 'Cocoon') to try and finish this mess. It'll be nowhere near enough. Perhaps a fulled wool bag is looming on the horizon.
I had Big Plans for this project. In typical fashion, it was designing itself on needles, and the kiwi green 'Cocoon' was going to be knit into lovely, chunky cables down the front edges, with leaf-shaped tabs to pull through the cable twists to close the cardigan. Simple, flared sleeves were to end with smaller versions of the cables from wrist to elbow, with a band of the same tiny leaves circling the wrist. I may just have to go stuff it in a bag until I can face the demon calmly and rationally. About which time hell will be done freezing over. *smacks head on desk soundly* C

Recovery

2009-02-03T09:42:00.000-05:00

Yesterday seemed like as good a day as any to finally surrender to the whatever it was that was plaguing me. After a restless night, I dragged myself to Melly's house for a play date that I'd very much been looking forward to. That said, let me point out what a lazy arse I am.
Melly had to drive me to the yarn store there in Zionsville, where she allowed the salesclerk to talk her out of a 'Clapotis' worth of Malabriggo yarn (WTF?), I found some yarn to add to the World's Ugliest Sweater that I've started (in an effort to use up the stash; I'd never embark on a mission like this willingly), and, upon finishing our yarn run, when asked what I wanted to eat, I could only answer "bacon". Much to my delight, Melly returned me to her house and proceeded to make me the world's biggest and best bacon sandwich on wholegrain bread. I crashed on her sofa in front of the flat screen under two blankets and a dog. Too tired to even make my hands work right to knit, I gave up and settled in for an afternoon of being coddled.
Getting home was a nightmare, as I got myself into the thick of rush hour traffic. My eyes wanted to stay shut with every blink. Once I got home, I could only drag myself to the bed. Fifteen hours (and a lot of Tums) later, here I am. There was a hot shower in there somewhere, and fresh jammies, but I don't remember it. I just know that shutting it down has never felt so good, even with the nausea and back pain. Not sure how long this 'feeling better' is going to last... that bed is looking pretty good, and my hands and arms are starting to get heavy again. Just wanted to let you know I am, at present, still alive. Hoping to get a photo-post in soon. The Ugly Sweater will not be denied.

Scenes from a shelf

2009-01-30T00:01:00.002-05:00

I'm just going to put these pics up here for your perusal. I thought I'd remember the whys and wherefores of ordering these fabrics, but it was months ago, and I'm pretty sure I just have a thing for those damn polka-dotted little birds. My head is a scary place to be, especially now that it's compiling lists of places to put said birds. I thought Brain and I could stop at pajama pants, but that was before I remembered seeing one of those nifty kitchen wall organizers, with pockets for all the gew-gaws and whatzits and wooden spoons and recipe/coupon messes. Well, I just don't think my life, or my kitchen, will be complete until I have one of those.

If I weren't so tired, I could prolly come up with some other use for this fabric that would be perfection itself, but then I remember that I've had some Amy Butler "Charm" fabrics stashed for... a longish time, and these aqua/brown prints would be lovely with the rest of the aqua/brown stash. I may have already tried to assemble the stashed fabrics into a quilt top, but, knowing me, I didn't get far, so adding these in won't pose too big a hassle. Procrastination has it's upside. Told you my head was a scary place to hang out; I had no idea Pollyanna had moved in till just now, or we both could've left earlier.

I'm going to hit the 'pre-post' (I'm so tired that doesn't even make sense, but it does make me giggle) function. Off to bed with me. You try and behave till I get back. Or Brain will put a spotty bird on you.

Snow Angel

2009-01-29T16:15:00.002-05:00

One of the perks of a good and plentiful snowfall is the abundance of pristine patches of flakes, just waiting for that brave soul to come and graffiti them up. As Melly exited the shop, knitting in hand, to head home for the day, her inner child threw her down in the snow to leave me with a snow angel...

Isn't she darling? I needed me a Melly-fix. Thanks, friend.

Another new friend came into the shop today. Everybody, this is Harrison. I got to hold him and sway him and pat him and cuddle him while his momma decompressed and shopped for yarn. It took him awhile to wake up enough to warrant being taken out of his pod, as I strictly adhere to the "never wake a sleeping baby" rule, but boy, was he nice when I finally got to hold him. Nearly five weeks old and just precious.

Some more precious, but not nearly as entertaining (or as cute!) as young Harrison, the 'Smooches, Pooches' sock sample has been cast on. Just like 'Air Kiss', but pinkish. Super fun to knit. I'm hoping it turns out just as nice as the other colorway did. I do love me some sock yarn.

New fabrics arrived today as well. A half-dozen bolts of 'Good Folks' by Anna Maria Horner. I had been very freaked out, because I couldn't remember what exactly I had ordered, but there seems to have been a method to my madness, and I have the same fabrics in both colorways. Sometimes I even amaze myself. Pics of the newest bolts tomorrow. Also, a rather substantial order of Kid Silk Haze has been placed, so expect some fuzzy fabulousness to follow in that vein, too. More later, knittas. C

p.s. That Crocker Woman is amazing... now I can't hardly breathe when I sit down to my blog, what with The Edward looking all pale and gorgeous up top. The ultimate counter for our trip. I love you, Melly. I truly do.

Guys & Dolls... with string

2009-01-27T00:06:00.002-05:00

As it's already 'tomorrow', I thought I'd better get these pics up, not because I know y'all are curious, not because I fear the Gaylen, but because I couldn't rest easy knowing I was depriving you of this face right here. Behold knitting's poster child for "knitting 'cuz the prof said I had too"... awwww. Don't you just want to pinch him? Yeah, or something like that.

This little bit of the cuteness was named 'Leslie' and she's darling. Brightest smile I've seen all week, as the Melly has been a bit preoccupied and I haven't laid eyes on her in what feels like forever. Anyhoo, Miss Leslie took to knitting right off, even with the rocky start that some of the students had...

See, there were Others there. 'Knitterly' types that had volunteered to 'assist' with the ~~indoctrination~~ class, and though I couldn't be everywhere, I kept my eyes and ears open. And I heard it. Someone was teaching backward loop as the cast on. I blanched. I ground my teeth. I muttered curses under my breath. I took some calming breaths, thanked God for my doctor and Xanax, and threw up a little in my brain. Then I long-tailed it around the room, startling some of the students as I ripped the needles from their hands, casting on quickly whilst telling them that casting on wasn't nearly so fun and "here, let me just do this for you so you can get to the good part, the knit stitch". I promise no one got hurt. I didn't get asked to leave. I didn't even throw the justified scathing looks (well, maybe one) to the offending knitters. I'm not a purist, but seriously, backward loop? Ugh.

Surprisingly, there were a few naturals in the group, just not rabid about the knitting thing. Yet. I whipped out a few things in progress and the recently finished 'Air Kiss' sock. These guys wouldn't be impressed, but they had valid looks of concentration on their faces, so I gave it a rest. No sense begging for that security escort off campus...

And then I made my way over to this little pod of students. They were all so charming (our poster boy is of this group, out of the frame, just to the left of 'Henley shirt dude with grey yarn'). I chatted knitting with the perky girl, helped the dark haired boy loosen his dish-rag cotton stitches, then I stayed to watch them knit. Would you believe that, aside from the very pretty girl who wouldn't be photographed, he was the most natural knitter? Even hamstrung with kitchen cotton on aluminum needles. *shudder* I decided to let him put some of his knitting mojo in the 'Eclipse' socks... plus I thought the recipient might like to see who her sock has been hanging out with. She's a sucker for a pretty face.

There was a tricky bit at the end, when I was answering questions about how I find time to knit, what with all the kids/shop/spouse/laundry. I mentioned knit groups and pub crawls and that elicited startled gasps and stares. Suddenly I was a wrinkled old crone who'd just taken the name of beer in vain. What? We're too mature for that kind of behavior? Too responsible to drag the handknits into a bar?
I didn't realize until much later in the day how indignant that made me feel, and it all came tumbling out in a flood of angry tears. Youth is wasted on the young. I'd like to get ahold of the nineteen year old I used to be and smack her in her head. Of course it would have been easier to get ahold of these children and smack them in the head, but again, "security escort". I refrained from looking shocked and appalled, and was mightily relieved the session was over. I did tell perky girl to take loads of photos of herself, because one day she's going to see a picture and wonder why her mother is wearing her clothes. *snark* C

Eclipse, interrupted

2009-01-25T21:56:00.000-05:00

The progress on, oh, wait, I wasn't supposed to start any new projects yet. Okay. Disregard this sock-in-progress, since my clever attempt at a fair isle version of the "I heart Alice" heel flap became horribly distorted half-way through the 'heart' part. I will submit to Swiss darning the cutesy bits on afterwards, like the pattern specifies. I can play nice. It'll look better over the ankle anyway, rather than stuck on a flap heel, in a shoe.

Here is the sock I finished up yesterday, all washed and dried on the AGA. I love this yarn! The first bag (of eight!) is already spoken for and I've only been flashing this sock around for a few days, so that makes me verrrry happy.

The receipt printer is working again. I should actually not be allowed out in public without a "please speak slowly and avoid sudden movements" disclaimer on my forehead. After eightteen months of paper-changes, you'd think I'd be all down with the gadgets. Thankfully Mandi was paying attention to the diagrams. All that extra work, all that headache, all those cranky phone calls to Intuit trying to get 'technical assistance'. (slams head on desk)
Thermal paper. Not for stoopid peepul.

A big thank you to Melly for the 'Dorks in Forks' countdown calendar up top. I love that she sneaks over and puts all that weird sidebar stuff on my blog. I love that she is reading all the books just to appease me and my desire for all things 'Twilight'. I love that when I'm miserable crampy and need to whine I can text her that "somebody just butchered a chicken in my underpants" and she laughs at me instead of having my number blocked off her phone. I don't scare her one bit. I love my Melly. And, for today, peanut M&Ms are of the devil. Just so you know. WW weigh in tomorrow night. Knitting class at the college in the a.m. I hope I don't embarrass myself too bad...
Aw, hell. You know a really awful story is coming up for tomorrow, don't you? Yep. Stay tuned. C

127 Days

2009-01-24T11:35:00.002-05:00

That's the official countdown to the start of our 'Dorks in Forks' tour. 18.142857 weeks. 3048 hours, give or take, depending on how on time the flights are, and not counting shuttling to and from airports. I'm taking sock knitting, of course. Possibly a variant on this bit of mindlessness...

Seen above, one of the trial skeins of the Clementine's Dry Goods custom colorway. "Air Kiss" is knitting up fantastic. Nice melding of colors, no barber-pole effect; the only pooling of color has been around the gusset decreases. I love Lorna's Laces sock yarn. This sock is a basic pattern, to showcase the dye job. 72 stitches on 2mm needles. I haven't called the order in yet, finances being weird right now, what with someone using the store's Visa (missing since the 17th) to buy porn online. My bank is taking care of it, but I can't help but think I'd have noticed it sooner if I weren't stoned from lack of sleep. Perhaps by Monday all will be sorted out and I can get with the craftyness that is Lorna's Laces to get things rolling on the two custom colors. ("Smooches, Pooches" is the pinky version of the above yarn.) Fun stuff.

Here's more fun stuff. Thimbleanna made us pincushions... filled with lizard litter. I know. I giggle every time I go all stabbity with the pins. Probably several customers have pondered the odd behavior of the nutjob wielding the rotary blade as their fabrics are cut. It's just one of those odd factoids that pleases me muchly. I love it. Thanks, Anna!

Here's a candid of eldest child knitting her second sock. I made her put Sock-the-First on her foot. And yes, those would be size eight Docs on her feet. She's thirteen... and short. Can someone please 'splain how this is possible? However, the knitting is happening, and I don't even have to beg, plead, or wheedle. Sometimes kids are awesome. Another sock knitter at Becher Haus. I may have to guard the stash. Or bribe her to help me get through it faster.

p.s. Bank just called. Problem solved. They rock. *whew*

Sleepless in Morgantown

2009-01-22T23:37:00.003-05:00

I'm supposed to be passed out by now. A strict regimen of sedatives (taken throughout the day) and sleep medicine, coupled with a warm shower and the worlds' warmest husband was supposed to be the siren call that would lull me into the end of the day. I had big plans. Apparently so did my brain, because here we sit, Brain and I, typing, while the rest of the world saws logs. Even the toddler gave up and went to bed willingly... actually, he puts himself to bed every night, usually with a quiet announcement that "I go bed now, Mom", and off he crawls under his covers. Little dude doesn't last five minutes.

The house guests have gone home, and our normally hectic lives are back to the usual pace. I suppose the only difference is Herr Becher had some help moving furniture and the kitchen island is (temporarily) visible. Oh, and my mother-in-law emptied all the laundry baskets. I have never felt life was long enough to spend it folding the laundry my kids simply throw back in the hamper, still folded. Ugh. But I'm thankful she had willing hands to tackle the mountain. I'm also grateful she found my whorepanties. I was shocked to find them in the drawer drawer (you know, the top drawer, where you keep your drawers...) this morning. Made rushing to get everyone ready easier, because I wasn't trying to holler at the kids from around corners, commando-bum and fishing for a pair of jeans. Nope. All the clothes are right where they should be. It's a good thing I'm not prone to fainting. The long sleeved t-shirt drawer startled me, the shirts all arranged with GAP-like perfection. I had to peek twice more, just to make sure I hadn't hallucinated the whole thing.

I'm going to attempt the whole bedtime routine again. Possibly there is a family history of mania. We've already got the surly drunks, homicidal crazies, and demented old women who think (and this is a true story) that since poop is dirty, you should wash turds in the sink... yeah, don't think on that last one too hard. My crazy aunt in Alabama is having a helluva time with my grandmother's still viable pod of flesh (like the Energizer Bunny... how does she keep going?), though the Gran has progressed from washing poop to needing a potty chair and babbling incoherently. Well, she did rally enough to call one of the few decent home-health aides a "G*d-damned fat ass". When I get to this stage of Alzheimer's, I hope my kids are smart enough to take me on a "vacation" to somewhere really freeking cold and set me to ice-fishing in my birthday suit. Preferably with a pack of hungry coyotes standing by. I don't find any consolation in the fact that I won't know any of my children or grandchildren, and thereby will be spared any hint of embarrassment about my 'condition' (should my own offspring choose to replicate...I can't blame them if they don't, what with the freaky sea-monkey show now playing in our gene-pool).

Well, enough prattling on. I thought rambling a bit about nothing in particular would help work out some of my mental stress, but that's too much to ask for right now. The 'dire' prediction that 25% of American businesses are going to fold within the next two years... nope. That one's not conducive to restful sleep, either. If only someone had strapped me to a chair until my 'entrepreneurial moment' passed. But now I need to know how it ends. A very weird tale may come from all of this. C

If you can't say something nice...

2009-01-20T19:25:00.000-05:00

don't say anything at all. This day passed like any other, except I decided to show you some of my happy from the past twenty-four hours...

New hemp yarn to wind, and the eye candy Herr Becher picked up for his geeky Frau whilst I got my hair cut today. Yesterday I took Mandi to see 'Twilight'. It was her first viewing. (It was my fifth, only because I just can't get away that often!) We went to Trojan Horse in B'ton afterwards, then hopped across the street for some yarn shopping and a walk through the tobacconist's. I may have scored two packs of 'Nat Sherman Mint Naturals'. Just sayin'. Mandi thinks they taste like toothpaste. More for me!

More fabulous-ness from Suzanne's shop (Yarns Unlimited in Bloomington, if you're curious). My Malabrigo stash is barely there, but the shrug on the front... I wanty. Too bad I'm two balls short of a project. Perhaps I'll have to go on a Stash Enhancement eXpedition. 'Cuz SEXing for yarn is great. It might be the best part of knitting.

Oh, I forgot the other best part. Miss Rob sent me a link to the 'Eclipse' socks on rav. That yarn hunt begins immediately. Damn that cute, blonde woman and her evil, obsession-fueling searches. I love her... and Sarah Palin. C

F-f-f-freezing P-p-pub C-c-crawl

2009-01-18T09:17:00.002-05:00

So, with all the subsequent exhaustion and having to wash and rewash all the clothing that got stunk up with bar smell, I've been slow to post these pics. I just e-mailed them to The Thimbleanna as well, because, as I've mentioned before, the chirruns of Becher Haus are computer hogs and I'm plainly outnumbered when it comes to trying to get 'dibs'.

Here's a 'Wilson' shot taken at the Willard. Only two of us were daring enough to drag our knitting inside, but what's a knitterly pub crawl without a scarf (Thimbleanna) and a sock (moi)? Sure, everything reeks of cigarette smoke, but that's what Soak Wash is for. Seen here, left to right, is The Junie, The ~~Jules~~ Jewels, and The Thimbleanna. I think I'll forever refer to them that way. Like rock stars. The Jewels requires adult supervision. She's a handful of crafty vixen. I taught her a new cuss word. If you know her, ask to hear it. It's funny as hell to hear her say it!

Rob is a bitty thing. This photo showcases that little truth pretty well. It also shows you how well I react to subzero temps. I still have cramps in my neck from trying to stand still for the photo while my teeth tried to rattle themselves into rubble. If I could have just pulled my shoulders into my ears, rather than just near them, I might have been warmer. That alpaca scarf was pretty much useless, so my previous claims that alpaca is warmer than wool appear to have been just hyperbole. Dirty, rotten liar. I'm now going to be hunting down much warmer fibers... cashmere, perhaps?

The cast of characters in this photo is Melly (tall girl), Rob (short girl), Thimbleanna (blonde girl), and me (scrunched up frozen girl). Our photographer was this wee bit of cuteness right here...

The No-Amy. She's super-cute, no? Noemi had an appointment the very next day to have the purple put back in her hair, so you're not getting the full impact of her hotness, but here she is, listening intently to The Jewels telling us a shocking tale. Or perhaps we were eyeing up the college-age bartender. Dunno. The gin had me a little dizzy.
There are new rules about knitting pub crawls in place now. 1.) No letting Melly drag us to karaoke night at John Wayne's Pub. I still have the world's worst rendition of "Behind Closed Doors" stuck in my head, though hearing Melly sing was fabulous... we just had to endure about twenty-five Really Bad Singers to get to her beautiful voice. 2.) Pub-crawling shall cease to be a winter activity. The next one won't happen until we can sit out in the beer gardens dotting the town. And finally, 3.) All participants will be required to at least hold knitting in their lap, or drape it artfully over their shoulder.

Now I need more decaf and a hot shower. Today is Get Caught Up On Everything day. I'm wiped out just thinking about it, but Herr Becher's parents arrive tomorrow. Slacker daughter-in-law has much to atone for. Latah, knittas. C

Honest to Blog

2009-01-15T22:12:00.003-05:00

It's the shizz, Homeskillet!

Great and exciting times are upon us. Friday will find a bloggy visit with the amazing Thimbleanna, right in the hamlet of Franklin. Pub crawling to commence at the end of the business day. You know you wanna. I'm not baking this time, as most of my pastries require more time than commitment, and this spur-of-the-moment gathering is all about the fun in being together, rather than the allure of watching how many calories I can cram down Other People's Throats. I know. Kinda rubs some of the shiney off, but I'm so 'cited I can't care. Besides, the Chinese place delivers, so what more can we need? I will be calling over to Emma's Bakery, just in case low blood sugar rears it's insulin-resistant head, though I tend to like light-headedness in my bloggy peeps. They giggle more that way.

Today took an unexpected twist. I have been asked to assist in a class at the college to teach knitting, under the supervision of a Sociology Professor. The very idea of all those bright minds to mold and shape into Possible Future Knitters has me gasping with delight. I get to stand in front of twenty-five heads full of mush and prattle on about knitting... it's a powerful thought. I will, undoubtedly, come across as the Resident Nutter, the students will probably flinch when I approach them with sticks in my hands, and all the while they will ponder and shake their heads at how sad the crazy little fat woman is, to be so excited about string. Ahh. Yes. I will try to be on My Best Behaviour (this usually is accomplished by also being on Xanax). Is it too much to hope for that none of them will run screaming from the room? Compressing all of my passion for knitting into a two and a half hour Sociology class is going to take some preparation. It's a good thing I don't need more than four hours of sleep a night, because I'm pretty certain this is going to keep me up for the next week. Much plotting and planning to do. Lots to consider. Anyone may feel free to comment on Things I Must Not Forget. We have till the 25th of this month, as the 26th is the Big Day.

Also, I need Jaye and Rachael to send me their mailing addys, as there are fabric bundles that need to go out in thanks for the quilt assistance they bestowed on my project. I need to harass Miss Laura, the long-arm quilter to take the tops and make them pretty and useful. Chipping away at the have-tos and must-dos is taking longer than I would have imagined, but I'm blaming the ridiculous cold snap. My brain can only go so fast in zero-degree weather.

Blurry pics of pub crawling tomorrow. The camera and I still aren't on speaking terms. I think it's been playing with my vibrating mascara. Damnable technology seems to be kicking my arse. C

Oscillation... the real deal

2009-01-14T19:00:00.000-05:00

Here's for you doubting darlings out there. Proof that I don't hallucinate all the weird crap that befalls me. I'm just too easily overcome at the make-up counter. Fancy doo-dads are hard to resist. And I watched a 'training video' and had much better luck with the vibrating mascara this morning. Until I sneezed from having my eyes open too wide in the bright light of the bathroom. A Mulligan and a few Q-tips later and I looked presentable.

The day was windy, cold, and blowing snow. Temps are dropping even more ("Don't you like having ten toes?"), and I expect it'll be quite a challenge to get into town tomorrow. Ugh. I think I really need a snow day, except I'd have to spend it here, drowning in laundry. Gah.

I started a little bit of non-sock knitting at one-thirty this morning, and by three in the afternoon had to rip it out. Kidsilk Haze really resists giving back the cast on edge, so I'm hoping Redrhonda will come to my rescue. The 'Cardi Cozy' has been shelved in favor of an 'advanced beginner' lacy stole. The kind of knitting that makes me have to pay attention, which would be easier to cope with if I could get sleep. Tonight I'm trying out the Lunesta. I don't have great hopes, but if I wake without a hangover, I'll consider it a success.

Gotta get back to Laundry Mountain. Herr Becher helped the chirruns clean upstairs (and he vacuumed... swoon!), and thus did he solve the age old puzzle of "where's all your clothes"... times five. I thought simply asking them to bring down their laundry was sufficient. I never expected a grown man and his eldest child would have to make four trips downstairs, using a baby gate like a gurney, to get it all down here. And, no, I'm not kidding.

Time for drinkies. Type at y'all latah. C

Vibrating Mascara is a 'Glamour Don't'

2009-01-13T19:13:00.001-05:00

The Year of Living Dangerously has taken an unexpected side trip. What would normally have been a calm and uneventful performance of my morning ablutions turned, today, into Something More. Decidedly out of the normal scope of events, my day was turned on it's ear by the advent of the vibrating mascara wand.
What's that, you ask? It seems that Lancôme, in their quest to keep the world of beauty orbiting around pricey little bottles of potions and paints, has finally found a way to make the art of making up an Olympic sport. To say that I was enthralled with my find would be an understatement, to admit that I stood at the mirror, confounded by the humming of the wand is humbling. To be able to see this as I type it to you is a miracle. No actual eyes were harmed in the application of said vibrating mascara, but I need to re-read the application instructions, or get used to the idea of wearing 'Daisy Duck' eyelashes for the duration of the tube.

Not to change the subject, but this is a knitting blog, no matter how much I try to be contrary. Rob's socks are finished. Yes, they look smallish in the foot. She is smallish of foot. They are taller in the leg than I normally knit, but what with the smallish foot, I figured she would want her money's worth out of the yarn. Specs for this project are as follows:

Pattern: an altered 'Mockery' sock. 1x1 ribbing over 72 sts, ten rounds before beginning pattern rounds. A slip-stitch heel was enacted, as nothing is sadder than knitting a perfectly executed eye-of-partridge heel in hand painted yarn that totally obliterates the stitch definition. Yarn used was Shi Bui in 'pebble'. I am so over this yarn, but might love it in the semi-solids.

Next up: Finally finishing the two pair of toe-up, two-at-a-time socks that are on needles. Red's and #1 son's. Neither of them are smallish of foot, so this constitutes an enormous output of knitting energy. Mostly what I've been doing is pissing and moaning about how long feet can grow. But now I'm going to go commit to knitting on those ginormous stockings. Right now. I mean it. C

Catch-up

2009-01-12T22:29:00.000-05:00

So, it was pointedly stated earlier this evening that very few finished knits are seen here at 'Camillaknits', and, were it not for a slight camera snafu, I'd show you the 'finished, save for the toe-graft' pair of Miss Robin's socks.

I have decreed this to be the year to Get Everything Off Needles, and with a pile of sock yarn so big it's actually painful to look at it (which is why a goodly portion of it lives in the freezer), I have to finish two pairs for every new pair I start. Herr Becher came up with that particular torture. Damn Kraut. Sneaky, that one. But I can work through all of my startitis issues and possibly recoup some of my extensive 2mm, 40" circular stash as well. I have a fondness for addi turbos, and they are all sucked into service at the moment. Arrgh. Fine. I can do this. Playing the finishing up game. Pharmaceuticals may be called in, but what's my mantra?

"Better living through chemistry."

Hells yeah.

Stay tuned for follow up photos of socks. I will not be mocked by technology. The damn Nikon manual has to be here somewhere...

Objects of my desire

2009-01-11T12:39:00.000-05:00

My lack of sew-ability is another targe4t (oh, look who's back with the advent of the prosthetic nails? My mutant 'e')for the year of living dangerously. I'm sure more than a few oaths and mumbled curses will be involved, though perhaps not as many as

these will entail. Broken needles, too. The 'Sophia' bag has been singing it's siren song ever since I first laid eyes on it. I'm not certain when I'll get up the nerve to start it, but that's always the hardest part for me... just beginning. Once I'm buried up to my eyes in a project, it's not so hard to gnash through it and get to the4 end (see, they just pop up everywhere...)

Here's anothe4r (I swear that's not on purpose!) pretty pin-cushion, made by Miss Laurel, who finally had her wee baby at Christmastime. Haven't gotten to meet him yet, but it's been miserable cold and loads of sickies milling about... better to keep little people indoors, clean and safe and warm.

I'm hoping to get a "real post" up a bit later. This was just some photo-fun for y'all. This is Second Sunday at the shop, so I'm going to go try and look busy with my knitting. Miss Rob's sequel-sock is now into the4 toe decreases... Woo-Hoo! Type at y'all knittas latah. C

I not dumb

2009-01-09T11:10:00.003-05:00

Just so you know, I know that a certain film was shot in Oregon, not in the town of Forks... see, I sat till the very end and saw the nice blurb in the film credits to the great and cooperative people in the Portland area. I pays attention. But I'm also not above taking a muddy little road trip to do some sight-seeing, even if that means I'm just looking at over-sized rhododendrons and moss-covered rocks. And don't think for a minute that you're getting out of going with. I have a spanking good suv to use for the week. We can get up to all sorts of shenanigans. And I checked. Amex will advance bail money. I'm bringing extra Xanax, 'cuz you'll prolly need it. I drive like a bat out of hell. (Ask Melly... she put that nice little button up for me. Apparently I'm a very scary monster.) *snark*

invasion of the baby snacher

2009-01-08T14:29:00.002-05:00

melly here, pirating camillaknits once again.

this baby was too cute not to share. cami snatched this sweet baby up the second she came in the door. holland is her name. and she is one fine specimen of a new human. butt-chin and all.

and her darling little grandma knit sweater? purple hippo buttons. could you die?

Handicap

2009-01-08T11:26:00.000-05:00

Let it never be said that I'm a genius at keeping it simple. Ever since the tonsills came out in September, my hair and nails have been doing weird things. Bad, unruly things. Ugly things.

Something snapped in my brain as I settled into Vickie's chair for my weekly mani yesterday. The previous week's efforts lasted all of 24 hours, and a quick calculation of the dollars vs. gratification ratio showed I was just wasting my time. Unless there was a cure...

And in walks Kim, with a brand new (around here) product called 'Young Nails'. Made especially for the manually challenged among us, these are purported not to lift or otherwise make life with prosthetic nails a hellish experience.

I guess we'll see. Usually I've got several nails buggered up within the first day or so, so I'd say the prognosis for these is good so far. Now to get a handle on the sock knitting. And zipping my pants. C

Becoming

2009-01-06T19:28:00.004-05:00

Sorry about the delay. It seems that one computer simply isn't going to be enough to keep Becher Haus functioning at the proper productivity levels, especially if one or more of the natives are going to hog air time reading this, or arguing whose turn it is to kill forest dwellers in their favorite on-line game.

In the meantime, there's been another bout of 'bathroom photography studio', and since I've been asked to clarify 'travel knitting', here is a pile of wool waiting to become something worthy of being artfully draped around my shoulders as we dash off to Seattle. Granted, that trip is still twenty-one weeks away, but as an Easily Distracted Knitter, I will require every minute of the next five months to Make It Happen.

Here is a ball that's destined for Miss G's stash. Her doggie-girl, Abby, is now the world's Most Expensive Pooch, and although we are all pleased that she's better, vet bills have siphoned off all of Gaylen's yarn budget. This will make a fetching pair of socks, and with her propensity to knit and re-knit sock yarn till it screams, I know she'll get good use of it.

Here I am, modeling my shoe find of the month. Soft, springy insoles, buttery leather, and an actual wood stacked heel, these shoes have me hunting down dresses. Yeah, I should have warned you. Hope you didn't smack your head on the computer desk in that dead faint I just put you in.

The past week at the shop was a good and busy one, and I just had to take a few days off blogging to reorganize my brain. There's been a run on Amy Butler sewing patterns, especially for 'Weekender' and 'Sophia' bags, so more have been ordered. Apparently I'm not the only one planning on running away from home. I'm off to knit some more on Miss Rob's second sock. It was supposed to be done Christmas Eve, but there was much tinking to do, and my frustration at not being able to keep track of two stinking yarn overs got the better of me. I'm in the home stretch now, though, but I'm very grateful she has smallish feet.
You go be crafty. I'll be back later. *mwah* C

A post-script: Monday night's WW weigh-in found me 4.4 lbs smaller this week, for a total of 40 big ones since I joined August 25th. That's what's fueling the shoe fetish. I'm no longer a prisoner of my hooves... they fit in normal shoes now. (Woo-hoo!)

(shoe info for the obsessed: Clark's Artisan shoes, style "Marilla", purchased locally at Von Maur, but try online. I got them super cheap in the sale room. Also, they appear to run a half size small, so buyer beware.)