So I had an acquaintance comment to me recently that she's well aware that I think "it's all about me, anyway." I think it had to do with Twittering and tangentially blogging -- how can one write about oneself and one's interests constantly? I told this acquaintance that the charming thing about me is that I am at least aware of this deficit in my personality -- Miss Manners is my lord and master.
I blog because I like to write and I follow the old adage that tells writers to write about what they know. I know myself and my family. I know knitting and cooking. I know ranting and general crabbiness about the media and politics. I know books... So there. Yep. This blog and my tweets (of which I do so few that it's a joke...) are all about me. Read on at your own risk.
Enough about her, let's talk about me. ; )
Portland is coming along well. Considering I thought I'd be able to finish this monster of a sweater during the Olympics, I think we can all agree that I'm delusional. I'd call this about the halfway point. The two tears in my rotator cuff and the bone spur that digs at one of them when I raise my arm above the height of my elbow not withstanding, I'm happy with the progress. I'll live to compete in the Knitting Olympics another year. By the way, I talked about the Olympics at the shop and a customer corrected me (I love it when that happens) asking if I meant the "Ravelympics". I explained the genesis of said games on the Yarn Harlot's blog 4 years ago ... she's never heard of it.
Dear Husband is interested in this knitting and comments on it regularly. I love working on it in a kind of unreasonable manner. Really. It's challenging enough (yes, I have to rip back regularly, especially after knit night) and the yarn is lovely to work with. More crabbiness from customers concerning the fact that the wool is not very soft resulted in my wool-knitting mantra getting tossed about -- I'm not knitting underpants, I'm knitting outerwear. What I didn't say with my mouth but with my eyes was this -- And I'm not knitting this for you...
While I worked on it during the wait to get into see teachers at Dear Son's teacher conference day, onlookers were fascinated not with the way the yarn makes the cables pop, but with the boozy stitch markers. They are kind of fascinating. Click to embiggen, if you're interested that is... My Mardi Gras swap partner made them from beads she ordered from Oriental Trading.
In other news, Dear Husband's Man Cave is nearing completion. Carpet goes in this week. He's filled up the shelves and walls with books and mementos of his work and travels. Well, mostly. He kindly donated a portion of the shelf space to me. Here is one of the shelf units that flank the window.
Here is a portion of my knitting book and magazine collection. Thanks, Honey!
In related news (you'll see in a minute) Stirling, the wonder baby, is in the loving bosom of another family these last two weeks. Thank God. It just about killed the 16 year old to take care of that thing for 6 days. It was the 3 hours of sleep at a time part that got her. As DH took her to return it to school that Monday morning, he asked her what she'd learned from the experience. She told him that the main thing was that she didn't ever want to take care of a newborn alone... Pass Go, Collect $200!
While she had the baby at home, the Amish family who built our new shelves came to deliver them. The whole family, including two what looked to be teenage girls, complete with skirts and head gear ( I don't know what they call those white bonnets) carried in the two large units. When the girls saw my girl in her skinny jeans, nursing a plastic baby while she watched DVR episodes of Numbers, Husband reports there were wide eyes and a good deal of behind-the-hand whispering. After they left, my girl wondered aloud to her father why Pilgrims were delivering our shelves...
Speaking of the Amish, although I can't believe they've had anything to do with this stuff... I've got the Blob (aka Amish Friendship Bread starter) growing on my kitchen counter.
Kara gave it to me a few weeks ago at knit night and I did bake with it last Thursday. Bridgett was here with Leo and when I figured out that I didn't have the vanilla pudding mix called for in the recipe (see? Amish using pudding mix? I don't know about that -- it flies in the face of what little I know about them.) she said I could use chocolate. Turns out you can substitute chocolate pudding mix and it's pretty darned good. I'd show you a picture, but my family has finished the whole thing.
Anyway, everyone I've tried to give my new starters to is wise to this stuff. That you have to feed it and that it just keeps growing... Anyone out there game? If not, I'll have like 16 of these by the 20th of March unless I can summon the courage to just kill it. When you kill a yeast starter, does it make a noise?