Archive for September, 2007


Allergies can suck my dick and other impromptu thoughts

September 28, 2007

I’m dying here, folks.  Okay, not really dying, per se, but really miserable.  The Goldenrods are blooming and that means that I am sick.  Not like the “call the hospital and provide me the last meal” kind of sick or even the “I feel totally justified in laying around in my pajamas all day and puking in a trash can” kind of sick.  But I am that “dear sweet feathery nutella on toast, I think I’d rather jump out of a window rather than blow my nose again and are you absolutely certain you didn’t put razor blades in my coffee?  No?  How about salt under my eyelids?  Still nope?  Then fuck it, I’m going back to the couch” kind of sick.  I won’t even mention the fascinating science experiments I’ve been hacking into the sink.

My brain has not stopped designing.  I need to get a new sketch pad.  I need to get new pencils.  I need to get an additional 24 hours each day.  I’m working on this shrug that is quite possibly the most beautiful shrug I’ve ever seen, but it’s also very detailed and time consuming and it’s all mine.  I have to commit to finishing it before I get cooking on the other things spinning in my head.  I MUST FINISH MY OWN PROJECT BEFORE TAKING ON THE PROJECTS FOR OTHERS.  gah. 

Sunday I’m swapping sewing machines with my Mom.  A few years ago, she took a huge chunk of money and bought this totally computerized, 60 stitch, self threading, sewing machine.  This freaking thing can damned near do anything – in fact, it can even sew without the use of a foot pedal.   It’s almost as awesome as a Liger and if you don’t know what a Liger is, It’s pretty much my favorite animal. It’s like a lion and a tiger mixed…bred for its skills in magic. heh heh heh.  (Are my kids old enough to watch that?)  Anyway, she got this fabulous thing and has maybe used it once.   She’s got some projects she might want to work on, but really can do it with her old machine (that I inherited when she bought the new one) and I’m designing some pretty insanely intricate things these days, so she offered to switch machines with me.  Let me tell you, I about crapped myself when she offered, but hell yeah, I’ll swap her for awhile!  Now I have to learn how to use that machine!

I’ve had a few folks ask me to sign their KnitKnit books.  Freaky.  Anyway, I cannot decide if I want to sign inside the cover (there’s some crazy artwork there) or if I want to sign on my pages.  It’s so silly, but I’ve been concerned about where to sign for weeks.  Good lord, as if there aren’t other things to be concerned with…

So this morning, I hear Duck scream out, “STEALTH!  OMG, STEALTH!!  You’ve got a MOUSTACHE!!  Wow, you’re really growing up!  Your moustache is really growing in!!”  Of course, it’s just peach fuzz that we all have covering our bodies.  Stealth, however, just happens to have dark peach fuzz.  But, still, coffee shot out of my nose when I heard that.  My 5 year old has a moustache.  Awesome.

Does allergy attack constitute a drive-thru lunch?


Take a peek!

September 27, 2007

My friend, Mark, posted all about the KnitKnit book on the Ozark Handspun blog.  You can read about it, read an excerpt, see the 2 pages devoted to Dave and Terri and the two pages devoted to my handbag and pattern.  You can click on the scans to enlarge.

Very very cool, indeed.


Help Wanted

September 26, 2007

PARENT – Job Description

Mom, Mommy, Mama, Ma
Dad, Daddy, Dada, Pa, Pop


Long term, team players needed, for challenging permanent work in an often chaotic environment.  Candidates must possess excellent communication and organizational skills and be willing to work variable hours, which will include evenings and weekends and frequent 24 hour shifts on-call.  Some overnight travel required, including trips to primitive camping sites on rainy weekends and
endless sports tournaments in far away cities!  Travel expenses not reimbursed.  Extensive courier duties also required.


For the rest of your life.
Must be willing to be hated, at least temporarily, until someone needs $5.
Must be willing to bite tongue repeatedly.
Also, must possess the physical stamina of a pack mule and be able to go from zero to 60 mph in three seconds flat
in case, this time, the screams from the backyard are not someone just crying wolf.
Must be willing to face stimulating technical challenges, such as small gadget repair, mysteriously sluggish toilets
and stuck zippers.
Must screen phone calls, maintain calendars and coordinate production of multiple homework projects.
Must have ability to plan and organize social gatherings for clients of all ages and mental outlooks.
Must be willing to be indispensable one minute, an embarrassment the next.
Must handle assembly and product safety testing of a half million cheap, plastic toys, and battery operated devices.
Must always hope for the best but be prepared for the worst.
Must assume final, complete accountability for the quality of the end product.
Responsibilities also include floor maintenance and janitorial work throughout the facility.


Your job is to remain in the same position for years,
without complaining, constantly retraining and updating your skills,
so that those in your charge can ultimately surpass you.


None required unfortunately.
On-the-job training offered on a continually exhausting basis.


Get this! You pay them!
Offering frequent raises and bonuses.
A balloon payment is due when they turn 18 because of the assumption that college will help them become financially independent.
When you die, you give them whatever is left.
The oddest thing about this reverse-salary scheme is that you actually enjoy it and wish you could only do more.


While no health or dental insurance, no pension, no tuition reimbursement, no paid holidays and no stock options are offered; this job supplies limitless opportunities for personal growth and free hugs and kisses for life if you play your cards right.


Shiner Time

September 25, 2007

Man, you ever have one of those days?  Today has been one of those freaking days.  Lots of good, lots of bad.

 Mamacita was diagnosed with an irreversible eye disorder today.  I spent the day with her having tons of exams and finally held her emotionally while she made a very difficult decision about the course of treatment she is choosing to pursue.  You know it’s not a good thing when your doctor, a specialist no less, looks you in the eye and says, “What you have is not good.  In fact, it’s bad.”  Damn, ya’ll, that’s just tough.  But, being the survivor that she is, she made the best choice available to her at the time.  Now we just wait and see and start counting Karma points.

I did get to show her the Knit Knit book, though.  It was very cool, showing my Mom my work being published in an internationally distributed book.  She bought me the cutest knitting bag evah – called KnitPickers – I love it.

Came home, made the prerequisite phone calls.  Got the kids overnight childcare so I can hang with B and drink some beer or, well, Rum as the case may be (The Captain moved in a few days ago….)

Rearranged my office.  Put the new-to-me monitor on my computer, moved my tower, and gave the boys my old monitor and speakers (forgot to add that I got new speakers, too….)

Listening to Mr. Ritchie.  I gotta say, I just heard one of my favorite lines.

“Thou shall not diss the Rock, goddamn it.”

Amen, and pass me a bottle.


Pickle Parade!

September 24, 2007

Meghan’s getting hitched ya’ll!!!!!!

My very first long term partner in serious crime is going to be saying “I Do” to a man who knows how to do it right – folks, he used a puppy to propose.  You KNOW what that does to me, eh?  I mean, sweet Jezuz, diamonds and dogs?  Forgedaboudit.

Girlfriend better get her tush to my town soon.  We have some serious pickles to throw before she signs on the dotted line.




September 23, 2007

My client blissfully and swiftly birthed a baby boy into the world today at 12:10 pm.  I got a full night’s sleep, she went into labor when I had childcare, and went so perfectly that I was only gone for 3 hours.

Doing a big time happy dance over here.


Of course, that explains it!

September 23, 2007

I was hanging out with Stealth last night eating dinner.  As I sat there eating black beans and rice and a quesadilla, I looked at my youngest son.  His forehead is all scabbed up from falling head first off of a picnic table and into a pile of gravel when we went camping last week.  His lip was split and swollen to the size of a grape from slipping as he hopped on one foot, his hands were scraped up from climbing our mammoth cedar tree in the backyard, he had 2 splinters in his feet, a broken fingernail, a blackened toenail.  The kid is looking pretty rough, but there he sat, happy as a clam, eating dinner and telling me about his great adventures.

“Stealth,” I say, “You’re really growing up.  You’ve really become a rough and tumble boy!  Just look at your battle scars!”

“Well, Mom,” he says, “I’m really a Ninja.”

Of course.  Makes perfect sense.