If knitting burned calories…

30 06 2006

In addition to knitting, I’ve apparently taken up marathon weight-gaining this year, as well. In mid-April, after spending three weeks away on business for a really crappy job, I began a new job which enabled me (there’s that word, enabled) to work from home. The three weeks in hotels got me off to a bad start, and I will admit I kept it going. Just like the Cars once sang- and you kept it going til the sun went down. You kept it. Going. Anyway, in addition to this being my knitting confessional, I’ll also use it as my losing my flab confessional. If anyone a) reads this and b) is also trying to get back into shape, please join me (in a good, hard cry. just kidding.) and we’ll give each other moral support. What say ye?


In which I discuss learning to knit.

30 06 2006

Well. I started knitting in December, when my daughter asked for a Klutz Press knitting how-to. Santa obliged. Santa rules. We sat down with the book and taught ourselves to knit. Uh-huh. Boy that was frustrating. After a while we had what perhaps resembled a scarf and promptly foisted it off on my son. He’s so sweet, all he did was giggle and say “Thanks!”
After that, I decided that I could crochet, as well. Huh. What I could actually do was make caterpillars. Nice. And The Letter C. I gave that up are returned to knitting, which I now love.
So I’m making a blanket. What’s also important here is that I am a) horrible and math and b) have a really crummy attention span. This means that I bought some circular needles, some yarn, cast on as many stitches as I could fit, and started knitting. Did I have a pattern? No. Did I have a color plan? No. What did I have? I had circular needles and yarn. I’ve just been knitting on this thing until I tire of the color, tie on a new one, and go from there. No style. No finesse. Just yarn. I’ve done things that would make experienced knitters shudder and say in a soft voice “That’s not true knitting, miss. It’s just a tangle with … with … flair.” And yes, when they say “flair” they will say it in the Jennifer Aniston in The Office sense of the word flair.

The other evening I made my first trip out to a real live yarn store. It was wonderful, I found some green yarn that I had to have, it was so soft and luscious, I could not keep my hands off of it. My sweetheart picked out some weird, random popcorn blob yarn that he insisted would be great in The Blanket. Fine, I bought it. I got home, turned the skein of yarn into a thousand tangles, and spent the next three hours unmessing it. I then paired it with the popcorn crapola and added three rows to The Blanket. That was a bad bad idea, so I took the whole thing off the circular needles. I figured, to heck with it, I’m just going to start all over. Then I remembered the bajillion hours I’d already put into it and, after taking out the green (an act which somehow left the popcorn crapola safely entwined, don’t ask me!) I got my first real glimpse of just how gorgeous and big and snuggly The Blanket will be. So I strung it back on. The popcorn looks pretty good, whish surprised me. Nice!
But what to do with that gorgeous green, which is named Hawaii? I’ve decided to make squares, a million of them, and then stitch them together all blanket like. That will take…. three years. Hopefully. But it’s ok, it gave me something to do with that gorgeous green. I’ll put up some pictures when I have something picture-worthy.

OldLadyPenPal Sings the Blues

22 06 2006

I’d like to know, but first, greetings.

I am on a semi-quest, a hunt if sorts. And this is no active hunt, this is a Stevens Point, Wisconsin*, deer blind hunt, the kind during which we sit back in a comfy little tree house type abode, with perhaps a TV and absolutely some Point Beer. In these deer blinds, we (and by we I mean hunters, which I am not but it will serve) sit and wait for our prey. So you see it’s not an active but, rather, a passive hunt. A waiting in which we make ourselves as comfortable as possible.

This quest. I don’t think it’s so much inner peace I need so much as outer peace. I would like oh so much for some key people to become a diminished presence, and I would very much like to channel my inner Bhoddisatva and be able to ignore the asshole nature of others to the extent that I don’t even see it as asshole nature to be ignored. How will I do this? Be thankful for what I have ? Be grateful for what I maybe DON’T have? Surely it will become clear. I just hope that it doesn’t require too much effort, because I’m lazy. Hopeful, but lazy.

One thing that right this moment makes me quite pleased is the return of Reno 911. It’s a small thing. One must start somewhere.

* I don’t live there. I did, and it was pleasant, but I’m no longer there. Does that matter? I don’t know. I’ll go on a mad Google of people, and I know I always appreciate a heads up on where not to look. I’m not there. Stop looking for me there. I’m here, and what I want to know is where the hell are you? Yes, you. I scan the list of CNN.com casualties looking for you.