Armed with Pointy Sticks

I'm a Scarf!

Oh yes, the Lovely Miss Gina House of Sleepy Eyes Knitting has designed a scarf and named it after me!  It will be available next month in Sock Yarn One Skein Wonders!

I take one skein of Noro sock yarn (Chris would love it if I were that easy to please in real life ;).  I'm thrilled about this, since I bought more than a few skeins of Noro sock yarn when it came out, and have never done anything with it.  

Suffice it to say, I'm giddy for the book.  I, like many of our kind, see sock yarn as the "it doesn't count" purchase.  And it doesn't.  And I'll stab anyone with an argument.  This book would be a win without Gina's Me.  But it has Gina's Me, so it's a super winner.  Get it.  Get me.

Of Sardines and Video Games

I'm a very casual video gamer. I've always been a geek chaser. What can I say, I like em nerdy. I have logged hundred of hours watching games like Halo and Call of Duty.

Over the past year I have started surrounding myself with people who felt there is more in me than just a spectator. They were convinced that I am a raging pwnstr inside, just begging to get out. Sure. I like video games, but I play Pokemon and Harvest Moon. I try to play an FPS (that's first person shooter to normal people. I try to be normal. My friends don't let me) I get trounced. I die over and over again.

In the past I've just given my controller to someone else, smile and shrug sheepishly and say "gee whiz, I tried. Guess it's not for me!"

Yeah. That doesn't work anymore. Now I have to wait for a respawn and die again. And again. But you know what? It's taking longer for me to die. And I'm causing more damage as I'm doing it.

But I'm sick of getting killed by the Covenant right now, so I switched discs so I can get yelled at by the King of the Cosmos. But I'm getting yelled at less. So I'm a lessening disappointment xD

On another front, went into the freezer to get chocolate and happened upon Princess' dried sardines. Made my kitty very happy. Enjoying kitty loves more fulfilling and less calories.

Contemplating Immersion

So I'm blogging again, on purpose.  I like to blog.  It's like a journal, but I can be sure that the comments are from, if not rational people, at least real people and not the voices in my head.  You all are less critical and usually more inspiring.

I know why I haven't been blogging.  Long ago I identified this as a knitting blog.  And I'm barely knitting.  I have a pair of socks (yes, there are two now) that follow me around, and grow bit by bit, that remind me that I am a knitter.  And how bad ass DPNs are.  Seriously, I'm like Edward Scissorhands.  I still have lots of yarn.  But I have a hard time thinking of myself as a knitter.  More on this in a bit.  I've chewed on this.

I spin, every month or so.  I make soap... sometimes.  I'm weaving, when Chris warps the loom (little Cricket).  Warping is punishment for wanting to weave.  But I don't really feel connected to it.

I had breakfast the other day with Ted, a good friend of mine from school (school is great, btw :) He and I read each other pretty well and are able to ask the other the question that causes the most thought, comfortable or otherwise.  He asked me why I don't knit anymore, since it obviously makes me so happy. Think, think, think, like Pooh.

Those of you who know me personally probably know that I worked for a yarn distributor until over a year ago, when they laid me off.  While working there I was constantly immersed in yarn culture.  I worked with yarn shop owners all over the country, I got to hang out with brilliant designers, and I got to see the new yarns and patterns before they were released.  It was a good life.  And then it was gone, and I just kinda dimmed. I faded out.  

This was my fault.  I was a knitter before I had this job.  I had friends who knitted.  I modded Rav boards.  I orchastrated knit-togethers.  I had my hand on the pulse before.  But after I lost my job, I just stopped looking for it. and I didn't even realize it.

Saturday found me at Western Ave Studios in Lowell for Open Studios.  I have been there during OS twice, and both times are just... effervescent.  I feel awakened, creative, inspired, and nurtured.  All of these artists surrounding themselves in an environment that just exudes, fosters, encourages creativity.  And I want to be a part of something like that.

And I was.  And I want to be again.

So, I'm back, and I'm going to try to stay on track in my own little way.  This may not always be a knitting blog. Sometimes it may be a school blog, and sometimes a work blog (I have a retail job that suits my current past times) it may sometimes be a video gaming blog.  It will be a me blog.  It will be my blog.

And I will finish my socks.  They're kind and patient socks.  The second sock has a heel, only the cuff to go.  And I will finish my sewing and weaving projects.  They make take a while. I have a hard time sewing and reading microbiology notes.  And I will stay in touch.  And I will decide my level of involvement.

Hide the Apples!

Lovely, lovely day.  I'm sitting here, high on wind in my hair, apples in my belly, sun on my skin, and codeine.

Yeah, Codeine.  For a tooth ache I'm having root canaled on Monday.  I've never had codeine before.  Fun stuff.  It makes me very double rainbow. Like, I love life, and I want to tell you about it.  

Chris went for a bike ride today with a friend who's only in town once a month. Today was a perfect day to be out.  I agreed, and decided that I would go out and get some honeycrisp apples from Mack's.

I love these apples.  Honeycrisp apples and pumpkin beer are two things that make fall perfect.  And today Mack's held a military appreciation day.  Very awesome of them.  I got a free peck of apples.  I could already taste the perfect, sweet crisp of the apples.  The girl handed me my bag and smiled, telling me that down this way was macintosh and cortland apples.  Wonderful apples.  Good for cooking.  I asked her if there were any of my beloved honeycrisp in this field.  Alas, no.

Oh well, Cortland and Macintosh are grand apples. I took my bag and proceeded in the direction she sent me (6 rows back, she told me).  On my way I grabbed and apple, maybe the third row, and bit into it, enjoying that flavor of a beautiful fall day.

From the trees came a man in dark sunglasses, with a walkie talkie.  "Excuse me? Those apples aren't ready."  I kid you not, I was being approached by apple secret service.  I apologized, told him that I must have miscounted the row I was on.  He said "You can eat that one, but these trees won't be ready for another three weeks."  Good thing he said I could eat the apple.  I was enjoying it and didn't want to give it back.  

I made it the rest of the way to the truly ripe apples and started to pick.  Walking from tree to tree I spied my favorites and plucked them.  And at three apples while I was at it.  I filled my bag and picked a final apple to munch on for my walk back to that car.  One my way out I ran into the apple agent, and I'm not certain that he didn't know exactly how many apples I'd eaten since we last talked.  I grinned at him, telling him that they never taste quite as good once they left the orchard.  He smiled and agreed.  

I'm glad that Mack's has people like him, keeping the apples safe.

That apples are awesome.  I'll be getting more next weekend.