LO! I’ve missed the last few “Stitch Stirrer” prompts. Sigh, been busy and out of sorts and what not. In my head I designed a Halloween themed cap for that prompt but never had time to draw it let alone make it. I came up with the plans for a stuffed Breast Cancer Awareness ribbon, but did not have time to work all of it out. “10 things learned” and “why do i do it” should be coming up soon.
The current prompt is “how would they know” as in, how would someone know I was a crocheter when they walked into my house. Would they notice or would they have to dig around for it?
Walk into my house. So it, I dare you! Upon entering the house you will be accosted by two overly ambitious dogs barking, jumping, yelling, wriggling, dogs. Once you get past the dogs (and this may take a few minutes, be patient) make a visual sweep of the room from right to left.
Here, let me walk you through what you will see. You can just assume that more often than you would prefer, the dogs will get in your way so I would include them on the tour, you can just imagine them. The love seat has one of my small project bags on it, but it is currently empty. End table sports a stack f crochet hooks that I don’t like, some stitch markers I forgot to pick up and two sets of colored pencils that I use to plot out designs. Sweeping further, on the floor is a large bag of polyester fiberfill, a 12 inch high stack of crochet magazines and books, another larger set of color pencils (as well as water colors and oil pastels) for trying to get the stuff in my head onto paper.
Keep moving. The coffee table. My pink beaded lace scarf waiting to be worked on, a jumble of yarn waiting to be untangled or trashed, my crochet notebook that desperately needs to be updated, the beginning of a hat that twisted when connecting the round, a stuffed crochet monkey tail to go on a monkey that I forgot on my desk at work, a large metal mixing bowl (why? i don’t know) containing stuffed dinosaurs, my diagonal scarf, two skeins of baby yarn and my spiderweb cardigan that needs the arm reworked so I can wear it. A bag from Borealis yarns containing 2 skeins of Plymouth Yarn baby alpaca grande in blue/green. This yarn was payment from a coworker for a project I did for her. My ball winder is attached to the edge of the table ready to be used.
Also on the table, my Lariat Scarf, the fingerless gloves I just finished, various ‘odd balls’ of yarn (single balls left over from a dye lot that yarn stores sell on clearance because there’s not much you can do with a single ball of yarn. But I like them for little projects or edging or adding to things), graph paper for my designs and scribbles and math work (crochet takes some math!).
Under the table you will find another crochet book, my 3 ring binder where I put page protected printed patterns and a 1934 edition of Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past, Volume 1 in which I draw a lot. The book itself has actually never ever been ready by anyone, many of the pages were miscut and still attached together. My fascination with this compelled me to draw pictures in the book. Mostly of naked fat ladies, go figure.
Moving on, a 5 bin stackable plastic storage unit crammed full to overflowing with yarn. A basket full of yarn and a scarf I am working on, bags of cheap yarn for dolls, and another half finished scarf. Coming around you get to the sofa. I am on one end, next to me are 2 balls of yarn (black and white), the beginnings of another pirate hat, my box of crochet tools and sundries, two more crochet books (one to be sent to Washington State very soon), a bag with my kerchief project and the pattern for the pirate hat. On the back of the sofa is my pink and green Fair Isle purse.
Finally you would end at the CD rack with no actual CDs in it (loooong story) but it does have one of my crochet bunnies on it.
This is JUST the view of my living room. the dining room and bedroom have their own thing going on and most of it is covered in yarn as well.
Standing at my front door and surveying the room you would be led to 2 conclusions. The first is that a crocheter lives here. The second is that said crocheter is a really shitty house keeper.
Monthly Archives: October 2007
You are never poor…
so long as you have hope.
Every pair of my underpants are either in the laundry, in the dryer or on top of the dryer. I know this. and yet every morning I search through my underpants drawer to see if maybe a pair showed up or maybe I missed a pair. That would be great so that I would not have to go to the basement to get underpants.
Of course the solution is obvious, but Chester is a dick and won’t go get the laundry.
I’m a stupid baby
“Stupid babies need the most attention.”
aaah the Simpsons.
Yesterday’s PMS weep-a-long songs: Exit Movie for a Film and Karma Police. Karma Police? Yeah, I don’t know either. But you try wailing “for a minute there, I lost myself…I lost myself” while you have pms and the sky is drizzle grey. You just try it.
With all the talk of Radiohead’s new album I had to pop OK Computer into the cd player. It is the bar to which all their other albums are compared. After Hail to the Thief, I’m going to wait a bit until I buy In Rainbows.
Yeah, hooray for PMS. As a rule, I’m not one to suffer fools gladly, but I have even less patience for people now. Luckily no one at work has brought me any drama. This PMS is worse than usual and if I have to hear one more complaint about not being able to find a girlfriend or how unhappy someone is in their relationship I’m going to scream. You can’t find a girlfriend because you are seriously fucked in the head and I’ve been telling you that for 5 years now. As for you, “Mr I’m not happy with my wife”, the reason you are unhappy is because you are a ball-less shit who lets others think for you and then complains about the results. Grow up, grow a spine and stop complaining to me over and over and over about her. Just leave, I suspect she’d be just as happy with you gone. Though I do wonder why she doesn’t leave because if you are like this at home I’d have stuffed you in a trash can long ago. Wiener.
okay. Kind of feeling better now.
I think the lesson is, do not bring me non-drama and pretend it is drama and DO NOT bring me self generated drama. If your life sucks it’s probably because YOU decided to let it suck.
whoa, PMS and feeling like an asshole.
Maybe too polite?
David is one of those guys that’s really thoughtful and polite. David is the guy that ALWAYS puts the seat down.
I appreciate that he does this. More than once I’ve dipped my fat ass in the creepy cold toilet water in the middle of the night. No one wants to have a cold wet ass in the middle of the night. Okay, I concede, there ARE some people who do want a cold wet ass in the middle of the night. I don’t know these people.
Here’s the problem (oh ho, isn’t there always a problem!), David not only puts the seat down, but also the cover. Yes, this is the neat and tidy thing to do, but it’s really problematic for someone like me. I’m a compulsive bladder ignorer. I admit it. I feel the urge to pee but I wait. And wait. And wait. Because there are 8 million things more interesting than peeing.
By the time I do get to the bathroom I’m bent over in an obscene prayer of mercy for my pants! All of my willpower is funneled into keeping my bladder shut. All my muscular control is there in my lower abdomen. I can barely work my fingers to get my pants down.
How the hell am I supposed to manage the toilet cover in this condition???? I can’t!
Relatedly, it is equally disturbing to sit on a toilet seat cover in the middle of the night. It feels like the toilet has risen up to greet you, but doesn’t want your pee.
I’m like June Cleaver with an intestinal problem
It’s 7am. I’ve been up since 6am. I get up early, read my messages, and then I whip on my pearls and heels and get started.
By 6:30am I am ready to get David out of bed. He is greeted with coffee, oatmeal with raisins and a hot bath. He can move from warm bed to warm bath with a minimum of discomfort. Sometimes I make his lunch, but not always. I help him gather his things for work and get him out the door.
Of course this means he’s Ward Cleaver and the dogs are Wally and The Beav. Wally and Beaver seem to be having hormone issues.