Friday was a day for photographing scorpions and yarn. Happily, not together. I don’t know if any of you have ever held a scorpion, but those shits are HEAVY! They’re so solid, despite their delicate appearance. Scary, scary things. Thursday evening Jim and I were watching CSI, which used to be our favorite night-time routine. We’d turn it on at 7 and then stumble into bed around 10. During the flurry of activity during the past month we watched it once. I think we were tired of the re-runs, and besides, we have all three seasons of Arrested Development on DVD. Besides M*A*S*H*, Arrested Development is inarguably the Best Show Ever. Anyway. There we were watching CSI when Jim said “Feet up, FEET UP,” in a very calm but insisting tone. I thought maybe there was a rat on the floor. But a rat in the desert? Porn squirrels, yes, but I’ve not heard of rats invading homes. So then, ok, a spider. Or perhaps a cucaracha, there was a dead one in the pool. But no, it was a scorpion. Now, I hate it when people write things like “I just threw up in my mouth a little” (DUH, in your mouth! What, you’d throw up in your elbow-pit?) and “I just peed my pants a little,” because, people, incontinence = no laughing matter. Because that will lead to further incontinence. HOWEVER! I do admit to having a bladder seizure that nearly resulted in pants-peeing when I saw that scorpion headed towards the space on the porcelain tile that was not even nano-seconds before occupied by my feet. SCORPION! Even the word is frightening, such a swift, hard sound.
Ok, so he killed it with the remote. I love me my Jimmy, I really do. It’s sick. Here’s the carcass next to a fork.
And here he is next to his dead friend, who apparently said “Farewell, cruel world” by flinging itself into our pool. Squashed one is on the left, drowned on on the right.
Friday morning I began taking pictures of my stash for Ravelry (Happy Anniversary, Casey and Jess!). In addition to improving my knitting skillz, I also need to improve my photography skillz. I don’t aspire to be Mr. Trillian42, or Kent, but some honing is in order.
This is my fancy, trying to be AmyKnitty picture of my needles in a container picture.
Speaking of Kent (and I must apologize for probably giving him the impression that I am a psycho stalker, when that’s absolutely not true. I just get very enthused about some things!) look at that gorgeous Candleflame Shawl picture! To quote Mel Gibson in the movie “Signs”, I gasped, I literally gasped. That got me thinking about a coffee table book of gorgeous, non-fussy knitting photos. No people, no pets, no scorpions, just gorgeous photos of knitted things being knit.
Do you have a favorite?
