violently happy, i’ll get into trouble

14 03 2007

Seriously, three posts in three days? What’s wrong with me?

I’ll tell ya. I’m on Spring Break. Life is pretty good when you’re staring down the last four months of 32 and you still get a Spring Break. So here is the sock yarn porn I mentioned yesterday in what is the shortest post ever. By me, that is.

The Jitterbug is going to be a surprise for JungleJim. The other night he mentioned getting me a five-carat diamond engagement ring. Yes, that was sass, who are we? The Jolie-Pitts? No, but dang, if ever in the world there was a beautiful couple, they are surely it. Usually when we talk about getting married it’s because I bring it up, and it’s always a pleasant conversation, but it gets old after a while. As my man sang, a little less conversation, a little more action, baby! However, I have weirdness when it comes to getting engaged and being married. This actually doesn’t count as being married, but the first time I got married it was to my children’s father. I was sitting in our kitchen in our out-in-the-country house in Rota, Spain, feeding Chloe some sort of breakfast. I was six months pregnant or so with Nolan and enjoying a huge gooey sticky frostingy goodness cinnamon roll when SH knelt down beside me and said something along the lines of he was finally ready to marry me and would I marry him. I laughed. A chunk of chewed-up cinnamon roll flopped out of my mouth as I snorted. Seriously. What kind of proposal is that? Not a very good one, and nine months (six after we got married) later he was doing the naked slidey dance with his best friend’s new sister-in-law. So you see, I’ve never had a proper proposal and have never really been married. I want to know that JungleJim wants me for me, that he wants a life with me because he loves me, not because we have two kids together. You know what’s nice, though? At this point in our relationship my kids call JungleJim “Dad”, so sure, we have two kids together! So there we were talking about huge diamond rings and I said at this point I’d settle for .000003 carats, although he’d better hurry up before I ran out of patience and took care of proposing myself. JungleJim didn’t like that idea. That’s good, because I didn’t, either! And whaaaaaaaat does this have to do with yarn? I shall tell you, and I shall tell you right now.

I’m going to knit him some engagement socks! That’s right, engagement socks. He should have something, right? And it will take me as long to knit those socks as it did for the diamond in my future ring to be formed, so it all works out in the end.

I’ll never be a good yarnographer like this lucky woman’s husband, but that’s ok.

Colinette Jittrebug Copperbeech.



I don’t have a long story to go with this yarn. But no, these will not be socks. These are a special project for my Chloe girl, and when I’m done with them I’ll put up pictures and the patter. I can’t wait! I hope they’re cool. They might be really dumb. I’m bummed out the colors are so dark. It’s much more vibrant and pink in person!


That’s that! What’s new with you?




6 responses

14 03 2007

Ooh… like the Copper Beach! Very pretty! And good pics, too. (I keep trying to get Kris to post a how-to on yarn pr0n. Hopefully someday.)

And I like the colors in the project for Chloe – can’t wait to see what it becomes!

14 03 2007

Ok, “naked slidey dance” made me snort out my own food! (I only wish it was a cinnamon roll!)

14 03 2007

Engagement socks, what a great idea! And yes, the ‘naked slidey dance’ made me snort too. I’ll have to remember that one.

15 03 2007
P del F (Fireball)

Engagement socks. I love it. He will love it. And the act of your betrothal will be blissfully happy! Diamonds and yarn and twu wuv. What’s not to love?

16 03 2007

Congratulations! You two will be so happy together.
What’s not to love about engagement socks?

23 03 2007

I love the idea of engagement socks. We didn’t have any official engagement symbols, so everything for the year before our wedding became ‘engagement’ something. ‘Engagement potted plant’ was my favorite, followed closely by ‘engagement tank of gasoline’.

When Jungle Jim formally proposes, might I suggest not spitting bits of pastry at him? You know, unless he’s into that sort of thing…

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