Feels Good to Get Spoiled a Little

Today is my birthday, so my coworkers all brought cards and party food to work. It’s our normal birthday routine that we do for everybody, but it still makes me feel special when it’s for me. I think maybe that’s the four-year-old in me. I’ve also gotten lots of great well-wishes from other friends and family too. Thanks, y'all.

Chris is taking me to Mambu tonight for my birthday dinner, so I have the chance to get all girly and gussied up! I’ve never been to the restaurant and have wanted to try it, but we were waiting for a special occasion. And also this weekend we have tickets to hear Hem and Over the Rhine play! Two of my favorite bands, playing the same place on the same night, just a mere two days after my birthday—coincidence? Oh, hunh-uh.

Every girl should be so lucky!

Memorial Day Weekend

It was hot and muggy here for the first time this year. I know my family in Louisiana probably thinks I’m a wuss for mentioning it, but I have gotten soft since I moved up here. The idea of 92 degrees being just “pretty warm” doesn’t quite work for me anymore. I hope y’all don’t disown me entirely. (Note the used of a well-placed “y’all” in effort to convince my Deep South family to claim me J).

I got to do a mini photo shoot with Chris’s band on Saturday so they could put together a promo kit for an indie radio station way up in Pennsylvania that wants to play their music. Very exciting news for them!!! So me and my nonfancy camera, and me with me nonphotographic sensibilites tried our best—and got some stuff that’ll work just for the time being. Hurrah for black and white photos that hide a multitude of sins. Chris had me stand on top of a ladder to take pictures of them while they were jamming—which turned out to be a really good idea. The guys looked great and sounded awesome!

Chris and I also watched the season finale of 24 that we’d had taped. I had also watched it last Monday without him (bad girlfriend!)—I just couldn’t wait a whole five days. It was very good, but left a cliff-hanger for next season. Jack’s being held by the Chinese, and he’s floating away on a great big barge, and they’ve tortured him until one eye is all gross and swollen shut. (Clearly I wouldn’t survive long under torture. This is not surprising news.) The new season won’t start till January, but Chris and I will simply deal with the withdrawal by catching up on the seasons we missed.

The Little Sock That Could . . .

Not Fit My Foot.

I decided I wanted to knit socks. I got a great pattern. I swatched. I measured. I followed the pattern's directions explicitly. However, I apparently changed gauge somewhere somehow (it was the stress of the day--it made me knit tighter?) and now this lovely red and yellow and orange variegated woolen sock will in no way, shape, or form fit either of my feet (I tried it on both just in case).

Before I made this realization I had gotten pretty far into the pattern. I had made a heel flap, turned the heel, picked up stitches, made some gussets--but then I looked at it. It was a very beautiful sock. But a very beautiful small sock.

So I ripped it back and set the yarn aside, where it now taunts me. Oh, I'll try again little sock yarn. You haven't beaten me yet.

Draw Your Navel into Your Spine

But don’t forget to breathe! I’ve been doing a Pilates class at work. I think it’s good for stretching and strengthening your muscles, and I’m beginning to notice a little difference in how I’ve generally been feeling. The class is during our lunch break, and I find I’m a little more productive in the afternoons now, and also less likely to snack on everything in sight while washing it down with a Coca-cola.

But, I admit that I do tend to forget the breathing thing during the class. I recognize that it’s an important, I’d even say crucial, portion of the exercise, as it allows you to remain alive as well as conscious while stretching and strengthening those muscles. But when I’m pulling my belly button into my spine and tweezing my buttocks together and keeping my shoulders down and extending my legs out at a forty-five degree angle, I can’t seem to remember to also, oh, inhale, and then maybe just for fun, exhale. Every time the video instructor says, “Concentrate on breathing evenly.” I think, “Breathing? What breathing? Oh, that’s the light-headed feeling I’m getting! Lack of oxygen. Got it!” Breathe.

Do you have any squares to spare?

I’ve been making some squares for “Warm Up America!” afghans. The idea is that lots of different people can each knit squares of the same size but in different yarns, and then several people’s different squares can be sewn together to make big colorful afghans. I’ve decided to knit some squares up using acrylic oddballs I have around. They're going very quickly with thicker yarns (or thin yarns held double, which also makes for warmer afghans) and can be about as simple or as interesting in stitch pattern as you want them to be. I’ve wanted to do some sort of charity knitting for a while now, and this seems like a good idea as well as a great use for surplus yarns!

How Many Knit Purses Does One Person Need?

At least a few more. Take a look at this photo I found linked on one of Crazy Aunt Purl's comments:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/hitbyabus/106745499

Very pretty, no? I hope someone figures out a pattern for it and shares it with everyone. Here is my latest shoulder bag in its felted form:



The bottom is knit from some leftover black Lamb's Pride Bulky, and the body and long strap were knit from one lone and lovely skein of Noro Big Kuryeon in a beautiful color scheme with lots of shades of green and blue. The fabric isn't as substantial as other felted bags I've made since I didn't double the yarns and the Noro runs thick and thin in places, but two trips through the wash has it felted enough to safely hold all I need to hold. It has a button closure, so as soon as I sew on a button it will be ready to roll!

Ehat

In an old episode of Everybody Loves Raymond, Ray finds out his mom used to read his childhood journal. In the journal he used a “code” where the last letter of the word goes first, so that in his little kid mind if anyone found the journal they wouldn’t know what it said. His mom is upset because in one entry he wrote, “I ehat my mom.” And, well, she cracked the code.

Personally, as a preteen and teenager I used to intersperse fake entries in my journal. If there were too many depressing ones in a row, I’d add in some random happy stuff for good measure. I guess it was just in case anyone found it and tried to institutionalize me. Or perhaps I suspected my mom might read it, and I had rathered she not worry too terribly much. These were my phobias.

Regardless, this code sounds like the dorky sort of thing I could have done when I was younger. Or now. For some reason when I have another frustrating day at work, I like the way it sounds to get in my car at the end of the day, slam the door shut, sigh, and say, “I e-hat my job.” Then I start the car and drive home and carry on with the obsessive knitting. And I watch stitches turn into rows and rows turn into scarves and hats and sweaters and blankets. And that helps me stay esan.

Memphis Waddle

We saw the ducks march! There's something odd about such a big group of people gathering for an event consisting entirely of ducks waddling. But there's the pageantry, the red carpet, the duckmaster. And the ducks were really cute! They stopped just in front of us, so I assumed they were posing for a photo op and took the appropriate measures:



We saw some other cool things too--the Peabody Hotel itself was a gorgeous old building, and we also visited Graceland, Sun Studio, and the Pink Palace Musuem (including a shrunken head--oooooh!). I think in all Sun Studio was my favorite place. So much incredible music recorded in that room. And most of the room is the same as it was back in the days when Elvis and Johnny Cash and so many others were standing there, complete with the old acoustic tiles lining the walls and the wobbly looking ceiling.

Of course, seeing as how we were in Memphis, we had some barbeque at Rendevous--mmmmm--and burgers at Huey's that were every bit as good as I've been told they are.

Click here for more pictures of the trip!