Friday, December 4, 2009
Happy Tenth to the Man I Love
There really is nothing better than being married to your best friend.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Knob Blog
We finally (almost completely) finished our perpetual kitchen remodel a couple of months ago. The two remaining items on the agenda are for the Vansome to stain and attach the trim along the top of the backsplash, since he was the one who ripped out the (newly completed) trim before he had the larger trim (that I didn’t think was necessary) ready to install (hard feelings, much?), and for me to choose and purchase hardware for the cabinets. Also, I belatedly conceded that the Vansome was right and we should go ahead and install a cabinet over the fridge, so we’ll have to special order one to fit, and we desperately need to replace the 21-year-old range. The budget has been exceeded for now, so those don’t count towards completion. Also, I’d love a new fridge. And better cookware. I am in love with my Calphalon skillets, but they are lonely. Some Le Creuset in Caribbean Blue or Kiwi would be nice as well.
I have been scouting out knobs and pulls online for the past two days. Home Depot has one of those cool wishlist features on their website, so I have been adding all of the potential winners. I think I have been looking too long, because I am definitely getting pickier. Here are some that didn’t make the cut:
These look like fallopian tubes to me.
This one looks like the legs of some elf or oompa loompa that were cut off while in the middle of one of those weird oompa loompa dance move poses.
The more I look at this, the more the ceramic insert seems to be smiling at me in a creepy way.
These are the pulls on the cabinets in Skeletor’s Evil Lair.
Okay, I am not going to be pulling on the monkey’s tail.
I liked this, but they smashed it in. On purpose apparently.
I picture this one being tossed with a mighty force by a Marvel superhero, with maybe some lightening flashes around it to indicate speed and deadliness. Interestingly enough, it’s called Fountain Pen. So maybe the superhero is a mild mannered bank executive by day, but at night he wields the Fountain Pen of Justice, and he seeks to right the wrongs of overpaid CEOs intent on destroying the world economy with their evil Credit Default Swap machines. Okay, now I’m just getting political.
This is a bean pull. It is much more bean-like than the knob version of this design:
This does not look like a mess of beans to me. It looks like a mess of something else. Off topic, but along the same lines: If I had lots of money and a house with too many bathrooms, I’d decorate one of them in a Winnie the Pooh theme. These knobs would be perfect on my Pooh cabinets.
Too many ridges, reminds me of arthritic knuckles. Also the ends are slightly inappropriate.
Curvature of the spine. Could also be a weird alien two headed sucking worm creature. Those little dots around the bases? Mean pointy teeth that will latch on to you and not let go. Ever. Or it could be a silver plated bamboo purse handle.
Inchworm, you are just draggin’ ass.
They’re supposed to be sunflowers, but they look like they could crawl off. I’m way too arachnophobic , thank you very much. Sunflowers aren’t really my style anyway, even when they don’t look like spiders or crabs or those creepy little red crab-spiders that run sideways and then crumple into an unrecognizable blob when you toss a bath mat over them so they won’t escape while you wake up your husband to tell him that a teeny tiny crab has somehow gotten into your bathroom in central Arkansas and is stalking you so you can’t get ready for work. Whew! Sorry, flashbacks. Yep, this one wins the Creepy Award.
As of now, I have 67 different styles of knobs and pulls in my wishlist. Of course, quite a lot of them are automatically disqualified due to price. Let me recount to see how many are actually feasible. OK 21 are somewhat within range. I had a fantasy going that I could have a different knob on each cabinet, but the ones that would work best for that are all way too much, and there are not enough lower priced items on my list to balance them out. I’ll have to ruminate on this a little longer. I don’t think I’m ready to buy yet.
I have been scouting out knobs and pulls online for the past two days. Home Depot has one of those cool wishlist features on their website, so I have been adding all of the potential winners. I think I have been looking too long, because I am definitely getting pickier. Here are some that didn’t make the cut:
These look like fallopian tubes to me.
This one looks like the legs of some elf or oompa loompa that were cut off while in the middle of one of those weird oompa loompa dance move poses.
The more I look at this, the more the ceramic insert seems to be smiling at me in a creepy way.
These are the pulls on the cabinets in Skeletor’s Evil Lair.
Okay, I am not going to be pulling on the monkey’s tail.
I liked this, but they smashed it in. On purpose apparently.
I picture this one being tossed with a mighty force by a Marvel superhero, with maybe some lightening flashes around it to indicate speed and deadliness. Interestingly enough, it’s called Fountain Pen. So maybe the superhero is a mild mannered bank executive by day, but at night he wields the Fountain Pen of Justice, and he seeks to right the wrongs of overpaid CEOs intent on destroying the world economy with their evil Credit Default Swap machines. Okay, now I’m just getting political.
This is a bean pull. It is much more bean-like than the knob version of this design:
This does not look like a mess of beans to me. It looks like a mess of something else. Off topic, but along the same lines: If I had lots of money and a house with too many bathrooms, I’d decorate one of them in a Winnie the Pooh theme. These knobs would be perfect on my Pooh cabinets.
Too many ridges, reminds me of arthritic knuckles. Also the ends are slightly inappropriate.
Curvature of the spine. Could also be a weird alien two headed sucking worm creature. Those little dots around the bases? Mean pointy teeth that will latch on to you and not let go. Ever. Or it could be a silver plated bamboo purse handle.
Inchworm, you are just draggin’ ass.
They’re supposed to be sunflowers, but they look like they could crawl off. I’m way too arachnophobic , thank you very much. Sunflowers aren’t really my style anyway, even when they don’t look like spiders or crabs or those creepy little red crab-spiders that run sideways and then crumple into an unrecognizable blob when you toss a bath mat over them so they won’t escape while you wake up your husband to tell him that a teeny tiny crab has somehow gotten into your bathroom in central Arkansas and is stalking you so you can’t get ready for work. Whew! Sorry, flashbacks. Yep, this one wins the Creepy Award.
As of now, I have 67 different styles of knobs and pulls in my wishlist. Of course, quite a lot of them are automatically disqualified due to price. Let me recount to see how many are actually feasible. OK 21 are somewhat within range. I had a fantasy going that I could have a different knob on each cabinet, but the ones that would work best for that are all way too much, and there are not enough lower priced items on my list to balance them out. I’ll have to ruminate on this a little longer. I don’t think I’m ready to buy yet.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Cat Surgery 2.0
Thursday night The Boy was visiting and he noticed that Joe's neck was swollen. He weirdly did not seem to be in any pain, and didn't even mind when we poked and pressed on it. He did not, however, want me to take a picture of it. I tried anyway:
The Vansome was anxious to set up the Surgical Suite right away, and we debated for a while, finally deciding to at least wait until the end of the recorded episode of "Lie to Me" that we were watching. When we shaved the area, we realized that Joe's fur was making it look larger than it actually was, and the overlying skin was not taut, indicating that it would probably go down on it's own. Another indication that it might not need surgical intervention was the fact that it had not been there earlier in the day as Joe helped me knit. He sleeps on my feet when I am curled up on my knitting couch, which has the dual purpose of keeping my feet warm and making it more difficult for me to get up and do something else.
Friday afternoon, I could tell the swelling was larger, and the skin was tighter. When the Vansome got home from work, I gave him the go-ahead to prepare for surgery. The surgical suite was still set up from the night before, so I rounded up the Joekitty and took my place on the bathroom floor. We wrapped him in a towel because this was the first time he'd ever been through this experience and we weren't sure how well he'd take it. He took it well. He was calm, and only cried out when the scalpel finally broke all the way through. Even then he didn't try to get away.
It was definately infection that we drained from him. It certainly smelled like infection. I was worried we were going down the same road as with Gobs, but Joe had two distinct holes at the base of the swollen area, so I feel confident that it was just an infected bite. The cats have been fighting with something the past few nights, but we can't ever find anything when we go out to check on them.
I took a post-surgery picture as he recovered on the Vansome's lap, but the area is too shadowed and the angle is bad. The Vansome was uncooperative with the posing of him. Something about wanting to let him rest in peace. Grandmother's bed served as his recovery room. He checked his shadow on the wall to see that the swelling was gone, then he snuggled into the comforter and went to sleep.
At about 2 am I heard him crying at our bedroom door. He wanted to go in our room, but it has been a strict no-pet zone since we re-decorated and re-furnished last winter. I sat in the living room for a while, with him as far up on my chest as he could climb, and his head firmly tucked under my chin. I eventually needed to get back to sleep, so I checked to make sure he had been using the temporary litter box (he had) and then I crawled under the covers in Grandmother's bed and called him to join me. I slept for a few hours with him curled against me, my hand in mid-pet on his back. When I woke up in need of a Zantac, I went back to my own bed. He slept well into the morning, still down when I checked on him at 9:30.
The Vansome was anxious to set up the Surgical Suite right away, and we debated for a while, finally deciding to at least wait until the end of the recorded episode of "Lie to Me" that we were watching. When we shaved the area, we realized that Joe's fur was making it look larger than it actually was, and the overlying skin was not taut, indicating that it would probably go down on it's own. Another indication that it might not need surgical intervention was the fact that it had not been there earlier in the day as Joe helped me knit. He sleeps on my feet when I am curled up on my knitting couch, which has the dual purpose of keeping my feet warm and making it more difficult for me to get up and do something else.
Friday afternoon, I could tell the swelling was larger, and the skin was tighter. When the Vansome got home from work, I gave him the go-ahead to prepare for surgery. The surgical suite was still set up from the night before, so I rounded up the Joekitty and took my place on the bathroom floor. We wrapped him in a towel because this was the first time he'd ever been through this experience and we weren't sure how well he'd take it. He took it well. He was calm, and only cried out when the scalpel finally broke all the way through. Even then he didn't try to get away.
It was definately infection that we drained from him. It certainly smelled like infection. I was worried we were going down the same road as with Gobs, but Joe had two distinct holes at the base of the swollen area, so I feel confident that it was just an infected bite. The cats have been fighting with something the past few nights, but we can't ever find anything when we go out to check on them.
I took a post-surgery picture as he recovered on the Vansome's lap, but the area is too shadowed and the angle is bad. The Vansome was uncooperative with the posing of him. Something about wanting to let him rest in peace. Grandmother's bed served as his recovery room. He checked his shadow on the wall to see that the swelling was gone, then he snuggled into the comforter and went to sleep.
At about 2 am I heard him crying at our bedroom door. He wanted to go in our room, but it has been a strict no-pet zone since we re-decorated and re-furnished last winter. I sat in the living room for a while, with him as far up on my chest as he could climb, and his head firmly tucked under my chin. I eventually needed to get back to sleep, so I checked to make sure he had been using the temporary litter box (he had) and then I crawled under the covers in Grandmother's bed and called him to join me. I slept for a few hours with him curled against me, my hand in mid-pet on his back. When I woke up in need of a Zantac, I went back to my own bed. He slept well into the morning, still down when I checked on him at 9:30.
The Late Great Goblin Kitty, or How We Became Cat Surgeons
Over the last year of his life, Goblin Kitty was prone to cystic swellings and/or abcesses around his head and neck that required lancing. The first occasion, we had noticed a large swelling on the side of his head behind his left ear. The fur covering that area had also fallen out, so we assumed it was a snake bite. Gobs was our wild thing, and he would definately have taken on a snake. We decided to wait until morning, and take him in to the vet if the swelling had not gone down. Gobs never liked to stay in the house overnight, so we let him back out at bedtime.
He did not show up for breakfast for the next two mornings. It was not uncommon for him to roam for a couple of days at a time, but with his injury we thought it most likely that he wanted to be alone for a while and he was hiding out. Also not an unusual trait for ill cats in general. We were, however, kicking ourselves for not keeping him inside that first night. On the third day, I began to suspect that he had gone off to die.
That afternoon, the back door was open because I had burned dinner and I was trying to air out the smoke before the alarm went off. Gobs walked right in the door. The Boy was closer to him and saw that the abcess had burst, and I could tell by his reaction that it was not something I wanted to look at. I have a strong stomach, and in my previous job I saw my share of diseased human parts, but only after they were no longer attached to the human. What I can't handle is an injured, suffering, animal. I loved my Gobs, but I knew I couldn't look at him, and the Vansome would be home soon to handle it. I went to hide out in my bedroom in full-on avoidance mode.
Gobs was having none of that. He needed my help and he knew it. He jumped up on my bed where I was sitting and working hard at being in denial. He got right in my lap and turned so that I was forced to look at the left side of his head. I really desperately wanted to ignore it, but he knew I had to acknowledge what had happened to him in order to save his life. He had a gaping, oozing, raw wound larger than a half-dollar below and behind his ear. There was a hole in the middle of it large enough to fit my pinky finger (if I wanted to touch it) and deep enough that I could see inside his skull. This was not something that would just get better on its own.
As soon as the Vansome arrived home, I told him we had to get Gobs to a vet ASAP. By that time, the only place open was the emergency vet. They sedated him, took care of the damage, and pumped him full of IV antibiotics. They sent us home with more meds, a very sick cat, and a huge charge on our emergency credit card. Against his wishes, which he was not shy about letting us know, we kept Gobs in the house for a good week. We had to keep the wound uncovered and it drained constantly. It irritated him, so he would shake his head and fling nastiness all over the place. I was constantly wiping things down. Thank God for Lysol wipes, tile floors, and leather furniture.
The next time Gobs showed up with a big swollen bump on his head, we took care of it immediately, and without the assistance of a professional. The Vansome is a do-it-yourselfer in the extreme, and so we became cat surgeons. Initially I would wrap him in a towel to keep him from scratching me or trying to escape. Gobs figured out pretty quickly that what we were doing would bring him relief, so the towel became unnecessary. In fact, he would turn his head just so, in order to provide us with the most access to the place we needed to cut. Our wildest wild thing would lay calm and still in my arms and stretch out his neck as the Vansome approched him with a sharp scalpel.
The first few surgeries, either infection or cyst fluid drained from the incision. The last ones were a little more sinister. The last time we lanced him, he was full of thick, brownish stuff. Obviously tumor. The Vansome knew he was dying, but I chose the denial route again. Shortly afterwards, we took a two week vacation to Florida - Destin, then Disney, then family. When we returned, Gobs came in the first evening. He showed up again for breakfast the following morning, and then we never saw him again.
I grieved over that cat more than any other. It's been three years, and I still miss him.
He did not show up for breakfast for the next two mornings. It was not uncommon for him to roam for a couple of days at a time, but with his injury we thought it most likely that he wanted to be alone for a while and he was hiding out. Also not an unusual trait for ill cats in general. We were, however, kicking ourselves for not keeping him inside that first night. On the third day, I began to suspect that he had gone off to die.
That afternoon, the back door was open because I had burned dinner and I was trying to air out the smoke before the alarm went off. Gobs walked right in the door. The Boy was closer to him and saw that the abcess had burst, and I could tell by his reaction that it was not something I wanted to look at. I have a strong stomach, and in my previous job I saw my share of diseased human parts, but only after they were no longer attached to the human. What I can't handle is an injured, suffering, animal. I loved my Gobs, but I knew I couldn't look at him, and the Vansome would be home soon to handle it. I went to hide out in my bedroom in full-on avoidance mode.
Gobs was having none of that. He needed my help and he knew it. He jumped up on my bed where I was sitting and working hard at being in denial. He got right in my lap and turned so that I was forced to look at the left side of his head. I really desperately wanted to ignore it, but he knew I had to acknowledge what had happened to him in order to save his life. He had a gaping, oozing, raw wound larger than a half-dollar below and behind his ear. There was a hole in the middle of it large enough to fit my pinky finger (if I wanted to touch it) and deep enough that I could see inside his skull. This was not something that would just get better on its own.
As soon as the Vansome arrived home, I told him we had to get Gobs to a vet ASAP. By that time, the only place open was the emergency vet. They sedated him, took care of the damage, and pumped him full of IV antibiotics. They sent us home with more meds, a very sick cat, and a huge charge on our emergency credit card. Against his wishes, which he was not shy about letting us know, we kept Gobs in the house for a good week. We had to keep the wound uncovered and it drained constantly. It irritated him, so he would shake his head and fling nastiness all over the place. I was constantly wiping things down. Thank God for Lysol wipes, tile floors, and leather furniture.
The next time Gobs showed up with a big swollen bump on his head, we took care of it immediately, and without the assistance of a professional. The Vansome is a do-it-yourselfer in the extreme, and so we became cat surgeons. Initially I would wrap him in a towel to keep him from scratching me or trying to escape. Gobs figured out pretty quickly that what we were doing would bring him relief, so the towel became unnecessary. In fact, he would turn his head just so, in order to provide us with the most access to the place we needed to cut. Our wildest wild thing would lay calm and still in my arms and stretch out his neck as the Vansome approched him with a sharp scalpel.
The first few surgeries, either infection or cyst fluid drained from the incision. The last ones were a little more sinister. The last time we lanced him, he was full of thick, brownish stuff. Obviously tumor. The Vansome knew he was dying, but I chose the denial route again. Shortly afterwards, we took a two week vacation to Florida - Destin, then Disney, then family. When we returned, Gobs came in the first evening. He showed up again for breakfast the following morning, and then we never saw him again.
I grieved over that cat more than any other. It's been three years, and I still miss him.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
It's Only Fair
The Vansome finally (after how many years?) got around to reading my blog. In the interest of equal time and all that, I feel compelled to spill about one of my quirks. (See My Quirky Husband .)
Last night we were watching "Knowing," the Nicolas Cage movie. I had my hand wrapped around the Vansome's, mostly because my hand was cold. At a particularly creepy part, I squeezed his hand and he jumped. I thought he was startled, but he was actually in pain. Unbeknownst to me, he had recently injured his hand and, as usual, I gravitated to the injury and applied maximum damage. And therein lies my own supernatural talents.
The Vansome is not one to announce when he has an injury or some other ache or pain. I will eventually find it on my own, however, because I will at some point grab, squeeze, bump, press on, lean into, or otherwise cause additional pain to the exact spot. It doesn't help for him to warn me in advance, because I will block that information from my mind and injure him there again anyway. I'm pretty sure it's not intentional. I keep claiming that, anyway. I do feel sufficiently guilty every time.
The Vansome says I'm dangerous. I don't think he means "in an endearing way", either. He also claims to not find it endearing when I frequently burst into tone-deaf song, but I don't really take him seriously about that one. I don't believe that my singing is truly physically painful to him, but then again I do have that knack.
Last night we were watching "Knowing," the Nicolas Cage movie. I had my hand wrapped around the Vansome's, mostly because my hand was cold. At a particularly creepy part, I squeezed his hand and he jumped. I thought he was startled, but he was actually in pain. Unbeknownst to me, he had recently injured his hand and, as usual, I gravitated to the injury and applied maximum damage. And therein lies my own supernatural talents.
The Vansome is not one to announce when he has an injury or some other ache or pain. I will eventually find it on my own, however, because I will at some point grab, squeeze, bump, press on, lean into, or otherwise cause additional pain to the exact spot. It doesn't help for him to warn me in advance, because I will block that information from my mind and injure him there again anyway. I'm pretty sure it's not intentional. I keep claiming that, anyway. I do feel sufficiently guilty every time.
The Vansome says I'm dangerous. I don't think he means "in an endearing way", either. He also claims to not find it endearing when I frequently burst into tone-deaf song, but I don't really take him seriously about that one. I don't believe that my singing is truly physically painful to him, but then again I do have that knack.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Blog Life Support: A Re-Tread
I have recently reconnected with my most dear old friends on facebook, and more friends and family have been directed to the blog recently. For the benefit of the new readers, I am providing a link to one of my favorite old posts. And it has pictures!
In June, 2007, my parents, my siblings, their families, and mine all met at Walt Disney World for a week. This post is from the trip home. Enjoy!
In June, 2007, my parents, my siblings, their families, and mine all met at Walt Disney World for a week. This post is from the trip home. Enjoy!
The Usual Delay
To those of you who have predicted "Death to Blog" as a result of the knitting challenge, well, it's not quite dead yet. I have the camera, but no batteries or USB cord. I've been distracted (of course) by other areas of my life. The Vansome is taking the camera with him to deer camp this weekend, so Friday is my new deadline to get the pictures taken. Of course you all know that means next week or even the week after that.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
I've Been Challenged
My beloved sister has presented me with a blog challenge involoving my unfinished knitting projects. It will involve much picture taking initially, so my assignment for today is to locate my camera. I am picking up Mason from school today for a little one-on-one Aunt Holly time, and his favorite thing to do at my house is help me clean the office/guest bedroom. That is the most likely location of the camera, so expect it to be back in my hands by tomorrow.
I have another fully scheduled day today. I made a larger than average mess with dinner last night, so I didn't finish cleaning the kitchen, so that's got to be done. I'm having lunch with my original knitting partner in a couple of hours, and I'm really looking forward to that. I'm picking up the Maseycakes as I mentioned earlier. (I asked him recently if he was too old for me to call him Maseycakes now that he's 8, and he said no. I told him I'd try not to call him that around his friends, and he said it would be ok if I did. I just love that boy!)
When I take Mase home, I will be joining Ame for her walking+ exercise class that she does on Mondays and Thursdays. The class is led by a friend of hers who is a personal trainer (I think, but I may be remebering wrong). Anyway, Kathy leads the class, which includes walking around a track and then something extra, like strength training. I'm curious as to how much walking stamina I have lost after two months.
Tomorrow, I will gather all of my unfinished projects from drawers, snap-top boxes, and knitting bags. I will gather up my honesty, as well. And then I will take pictures of each and every one. Each unfinished knitting project, that is. I can't really take a picture of my honesty. I'll post the pictures and officially launch the challenge this weekend.
I have another fully scheduled day today. I made a larger than average mess with dinner last night, so I didn't finish cleaning the kitchen, so that's got to be done. I'm having lunch with my original knitting partner in a couple of hours, and I'm really looking forward to that. I'm picking up the Maseycakes as I mentioned earlier. (I asked him recently if he was too old for me to call him Maseycakes now that he's 8, and he said no. I told him I'd try not to call him that around his friends, and he said it would be ok if I did. I just love that boy!)
When I take Mase home, I will be joining Ame for her walking+ exercise class that she does on Mondays and Thursdays. The class is led by a friend of hers who is a personal trainer (I think, but I may be remebering wrong). Anyway, Kathy leads the class, which includes walking around a track and then something extra, like strength training. I'm curious as to how much walking stamina I have lost after two months.
Tomorrow, I will gather all of my unfinished projects from drawers, snap-top boxes, and knitting bags. I will gather up my honesty, as well. And then I will take pictures of each and every one. Each unfinished knitting project, that is. I can't really take a picture of my honesty. I'll post the pictures and officially launch the challenge this weekend.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
A More Convenient Way to Waste My Time
The Vansome's massive television that takes up half of my living room has not been getting much use lately. That is a good thing. I have a tendency to become addicted to TV shows. Last year I was so overwhelmed with my job that I didn't make a point to watch anything except Fringe and Lost all season.
Hulu has become my new best friend. (Hey-did you notice I learned how to link?) The Vansome and I have started watching TV from the laptop. It kinda defeats the purpose of not having a television in the bedroom, but I'm still in denial about that. We were able to catch up on shows we liked and we're discovering shows we missed out on, not just from last season, but from the last few years.
I can't tell you how much I love the freedom of watching TV on my schedule, at my convenience. I don't know that I will ever be held hostage to a television show again. Except for Lost, but with the last season coming up, it's worth the sacrifice. I don't have the patience to wait until the next day for that show.
Our best discovery was Firefly. That is such an amazing show! I broke down and spent my dwindling financial reserves on the DVD of Serenity, the movie made after the series was cancelled. It is truly heartbreaking that the show was cancelled so early. I thought the movie did a good job of tying up loose ends, but it still left me wanting more. It was definitely better for me to have watched the series after the fact, though, knowing that it was cancelled too soon and the one season was all I would ever have. If I had been expecting more, I would have gone into mourning. For a stupid long time.
The Vansome is in mourning now over the cancellation of Defying Gravity. I had read a few weeks ago that it did not have strong viewership, so I began to prepare myself at that time. I tried to warn the Vansome as well, but he was in denial. It sucked mightily that they cancelled it right on the brink of the "big reveal" they had been leading up to all season, but what can you do? I know that they had a few more episodes complete, so I'm hopeful that ABC will offer them online. That's how we watch anyway, so it would be awesome for us.
We set the DVR on our PC to record Bones and Fringe last Thursday. We tried to watch them last night, and it did not go so well. The difference in audio volume between the episodes and the commercials made it almost unwatchable. Even fast-forwarding through them, we still caught enough to kill our ears and make us angry. I think we will stick to watching on Hulu.
PS Did I mention that I can knit while I watch TV?
Hulu has become my new best friend. (Hey-did you notice I learned how to link?) The Vansome and I have started watching TV from the laptop. It kinda defeats the purpose of not having a television in the bedroom, but I'm still in denial about that. We were able to catch up on shows we liked and we're discovering shows we missed out on, not just from last season, but from the last few years.
I can't tell you how much I love the freedom of watching TV on my schedule, at my convenience. I don't know that I will ever be held hostage to a television show again. Except for Lost, but with the last season coming up, it's worth the sacrifice. I don't have the patience to wait until the next day for that show.
Our best discovery was Firefly. That is such an amazing show! I broke down and spent my dwindling financial reserves on the DVD of Serenity, the movie made after the series was cancelled. It is truly heartbreaking that the show was cancelled so early. I thought the movie did a good job of tying up loose ends, but it still left me wanting more. It was definitely better for me to have watched the series after the fact, though, knowing that it was cancelled too soon and the one season was all I would ever have. If I had been expecting more, I would have gone into mourning. For a stupid long time.
The Vansome is in mourning now over the cancellation of Defying Gravity. I had read a few weeks ago that it did not have strong viewership, so I began to prepare myself at that time. I tried to warn the Vansome as well, but he was in denial. It sucked mightily that they cancelled it right on the brink of the "big reveal" they had been leading up to all season, but what can you do? I know that they had a few more episodes complete, so I'm hopeful that ABC will offer them online. That's how we watch anyway, so it would be awesome for us.
We set the DVR on our PC to record Bones and Fringe last Thursday. We tried to watch them last night, and it did not go so well. The difference in audio volume between the episodes and the commercials made it almost unwatchable. Even fast-forwarding through them, we still caught enough to kill our ears and make us angry. I think we will stick to watching on Hulu.
PS Did I mention that I can knit while I watch TV?
Monday, September 21, 2009
Not About Knitting
I'm on my way to the revenue office to get my driver's license renewed. I'm not going to mention how overdue it is. Let's just say it expired while I was working and leave it at that.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
This One is About Knitting!
My Carla showed me her first completed knitting project yesterday. It was a striped hat for her son, Lucas. I had coached her through the Mattress Stitch on Tuesday, and she brought it over to show me the fabulous end result. (I know this post is useless without pictures, but I seem to have misplaced my camera. And rechargeable batteries. And USB cord. And I'm quite sure they are all three in different locations.)
When I first learned that my Carla was moving back, I immediately began devising ways to lure her to the darkside, AKA create in her an obsession with knitting to match my own. Having just given birth to her first child, the timing was ideal. I started buying books of baby patterns.
Now the obvious plan would be to start by knitting an impressive baby gift for the little guy, but I am Attention Deficit Knitter. I don't do gift knitting. Gift knitting unavoidably imposes a deadline. You do, at some point, have to finish the thing. Babies outgrow things faster than I can stay focused on a single project, and baby blankets are not so appreciated by the average school aged child.
I wanted to be a gift knitter. I had high hopes last Christmas. I was a relatively new knitter then and I did not understand my limitations. My dad is still waiting for the back and sleeves to the sweater I knit him. My mom would just like for me to bind off her shawl so she doesn't have to wear it with circular needles still attached. Although they could make an interesting fastener, if she looped them through the lace just right. Hmmm.....I bet I could live without that set of circs. It's not like I've used them since last December.
But I digress (don't I always?) Back to my Carla. I resisted begging her to let me teach her to knit, for fear of frightening her away. She actually expressed an interest first after I gushed about what I had been doing. I was still working when she arrived here last Thanksgiving, and between that and the run up to The Break, I neglected her along with everything else important to me. I was able to carve out some time to teach her the basics of knitting sometime in May. In July and August we had more productive instruction time as she provided me with the therapy I so desperately needed, but it has been hit and miss until this week.
In addition to hat admiring, she and I spent the bulk of the day together yesterday, grocery shopping, knitting, talking, entertaining the boy child. My Carla has an issue that is weighing on her right now, and I am so grateful that I am well enough to be the friend to her that she has always been to me. While talking through her worries yesterday, she said to me, "I just want to go buy yarn." I must say, she is my favorite of all knitting projects.
When I first learned that my Carla was moving back, I immediately began devising ways to lure her to the darkside, AKA create in her an obsession with knitting to match my own. Having just given birth to her first child, the timing was ideal. I started buying books of baby patterns.
Now the obvious plan would be to start by knitting an impressive baby gift for the little guy, but I am Attention Deficit Knitter. I don't do gift knitting. Gift knitting unavoidably imposes a deadline. You do, at some point, have to finish the thing. Babies outgrow things faster than I can stay focused on a single project, and baby blankets are not so appreciated by the average school aged child.
I wanted to be a gift knitter. I had high hopes last Christmas. I was a relatively new knitter then and I did not understand my limitations. My dad is still waiting for the back and sleeves to the sweater I knit him. My mom would just like for me to bind off her shawl so she doesn't have to wear it with circular needles still attached. Although they could make an interesting fastener, if she looped them through the lace just right. Hmmm.....I bet I could live without that set of circs. It's not like I've used them since last December.
But I digress (don't I always?) Back to my Carla. I resisted begging her to let me teach her to knit, for fear of frightening her away. She actually expressed an interest first after I gushed about what I had been doing. I was still working when she arrived here last Thanksgiving, and between that and the run up to The Break, I neglected her along with everything else important to me. I was able to carve out some time to teach her the basics of knitting sometime in May. In July and August we had more productive instruction time as she provided me with the therapy I so desperately needed, but it has been hit and miss until this week.
In addition to hat admiring, she and I spent the bulk of the day together yesterday, grocery shopping, knitting, talking, entertaining the boy child. My Carla has an issue that is weighing on her right now, and I am so grateful that I am well enough to be the friend to her that she has always been to me. While talking through her worries yesterday, she said to me, "I just want to go buy yarn." I must say, she is my favorite of all knitting projects.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
My Quirky Husband
The Vansome has a quirk that used to irritate me to no end, but then apparently the irritation did have an end, because it doesn't really bother me now. Also, he tries really hard not to do it anymore, which is why I was reminded of it this morning.
When the Vansome tells me something, usually an instruction of sorts, I don't always catch the whole sentence. When I ask him please to repeat, he frequently only repeats a portion of what he said. The quirky thing is, he repeats the part that I did actually hear.
Example #1:
Vansome: mumblemumblemumble heat it up in the microwave.
Me: What?
Vansome: IN THE MICROWAVE.
Example #2:
Vansome: There's more coffee if you want to mumblemumblemumble.
Me: What?
Vansome: THERE'S MORE COFFEE
With the exception of the times he repeats the entire sentence (which used to be rare, but are becoming more frequent, probably because I have given him such a hard time about it) he will, without fail, repeat only the part that I heard. It doesn't matter if I heard the first part or the second part. He subconciously knows which part I missed, and then repeats the other part. Possibly some latent irritation that I sometimes don't pay attention to him when he's talking.
The conversation this morning (involving the coffee he left for me) was an example of his increased awareness of the quirk. I can't remember which half I actually heard him say because it's been a couple of hours now, but he repeated the entire sentence the first time I asked.
Yeah, yeah, there's no knitting in this post, but that's the "attention deficit" part of my new title. (Ooooh, Shiny!)
When the Vansome tells me something, usually an instruction of sorts, I don't always catch the whole sentence. When I ask him please to repeat, he frequently only repeats a portion of what he said. The quirky thing is, he repeats the part that I did actually hear.
Example #1:
Vansome: mumblemumblemumble heat it up in the microwave.
Me: What?
Vansome: IN THE MICROWAVE.
Example #2:
Vansome: There's more coffee if you want to mumblemumblemumble.
Me: What?
Vansome: THERE'S MORE COFFEE
With the exception of the times he repeats the entire sentence (which used to be rare, but are becoming more frequent, probably because I have given him such a hard time about it) he will, without fail, repeat only the part that I heard. It doesn't matter if I heard the first part or the second part. He subconciously knows which part I missed, and then repeats the other part. Possibly some latent irritation that I sometimes don't pay attention to him when he's talking.
The conversation this morning (involving the coffee he left for me) was an example of his increased awareness of the quirk. I can't remember which half I actually heard him say because it's been a couple of hours now, but he repeated the entire sentence the first time I asked.
Yeah, yeah, there's no knitting in this post, but that's the "attention deficit" part of my new title. (Ooooh, Shiny!)
Saturday, August 1, 2009
So I Guess I'm Going to Blog Again
Looks like I'm going to have more free time, so I'm considering blogging again. I went ahead and changed the name of my blog to better reflect who I am now. I am a knitter. I knit. Frequently and obsessively. I was also recently diagnosed with Adult ADD, although it was hardly a shocking diagnosis. I think my new doctor was clued in as soon as we met. I was stuffing needles and yarn in my bag as we walked back to her office. She asked what I was working on and I listed about four or five different half-finished projects currently in my bag. There will probably not be a large amount of finished project pictures on this blog.
I've been doing other crafty things lately as well, including jewelry making and a little bit of embroidery. I bought a sewing machine even though I have historically disliked sewing. Maybe I will learn to love it, as I did with the once hated chore of cooking dinner. Along those lines, I've also been reading up on Square Foot Gardening, so I can have fresh ingredients right outside my back door. Someday soon I'll be better at adding links to my post, but you can google it if you're interested.
I've been doing other crafty things lately as well, including jewelry making and a little bit of embroidery. I bought a sewing machine even though I have historically disliked sewing. Maybe I will learn to love it, as I did with the once hated chore of cooking dinner. Along those lines, I've also been reading up on Square Foot Gardening, so I can have fresh ingredients right outside my back door. Someday soon I'll be better at adding links to my post, but you can google it if you're interested.
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