I want to enter something wearable into this year's fair and now I have to decide if that something wearable will be this halter top that I recently bought the pattern to from Nexstitch (I saw the post on C'Ville and bought it immediately, then yesterday I bought the skeins of Paton's Grace to make it selecting the color called Viola for it), or do I finish up the Diamond Lace Tunic sweater I started back in December using Knitpicks Merino Style wool in Iris? Technically I could enter both but don't know if I have the time to complete both projects while still thinking about my doily dilemma which is this:
The under 12" doily I've been working on in size 40 thread, I've come to realize that I worked the center too tightly and need to increase my hook size as the outer portions are ruffling and I don't think blocking it will solve the pucker problem. I am within 3 rounds of finishing it and have made the startling choice to frog all that I have completed and start over. I will work it again but using a lighter color of thread, too.
I have also been enamored with hankie edgings and received the vintage book of Crinoline Lady in Crochet published by Coats and Clark from the 1940s. Times have changed. The materials used include size 70 thread in salmon pink. I've been trying to find modern thread in this color and size 70 is only availble in white or ecru. I have looked at eBay auctions for size 70 thread, thinking there might some vintage stuff to be had. No luck just yet. I may have to settle for size 50 or size 40. It's not a lot of thread that is required, since it is used to make the arms and face of the crinoline lady. I could probably fudge with the size 50, if I can find a suitable flesh tone.
The thought has occurred to me that I wish I had multiple sets of arms like a Hindu god or goddess as that way I could work on 3 projects at once! I'd also need a 4th set of arms to pet the cats. They always want to be loved while I am trying to crochet!
I have special plans to personalize my psychotic tomato. It's going to be a surprise. Don't try to guess what embellishments I am going to add to my tomato—but let's just say it will be considered "Franken-food" when it is done!
I was feeling mighty proud! I started on the final round of my Crochet Olympics doily when I looked at the pattern and noticed something missing on a previous round! No, it can't be! I said to myself. How could I have missed this noticeable mistake NOW and not earlier?
The workings of the universe suck! I hate the inversely proportional time factor of the nature of things. Examples: It takes 100 million years to form coal that is burned in about 8 hours. It can take hours to cook a great meal, only for it to be snarfed in less than 20 minutes. It can take 4 hours to crochet round of a doily, only to frog it in 10 minutes.
Yes, I'd much rather it take 4 hours to frog and ten minutes to crochet than vice versa! But I am only bitchy about it because this morning it was down to 16° and my knuckles feel the cold! Tonight it is forecasted we'll drop to 5°! I'd better do my Jet-Stream dance and see if I can't make it get out of the Arctic where it is picking up all of this freezing air. I'm sure my Shrone powers, coupled with Mr. Doo's awesome mind powers, will be the motivating force to change the weather.
69% Completed; Major Hurdle Crossed
I finally got past the braid chain round after three times! After much cursing and vowing "never again" I then progressed to the anchoring of the braid round and have started to move beyond into the final rounds. The rest of the doily should be smooth sailing from here. Just a matter of taking the time to work the round and then blocking it.
I'm really pleased with the look of the braids, and I hope that this year's fair judge will agree. (I am determined to take first!)
I have a second doily in the works to add to my Olympic endeavors, and I'm also working on a third for my Secret Pal 7 partner. Lately I am the doily making maven!
I was making good progress...I completed the challenging round of making the Braid Chains and moving on to the next round when I discovered...Yes, an error—all the way back at the start of the braid round! I had added an extra single crochet where none should have been.
So I frogged. Why? Because I plan to enter this puppy into the fair! Otherwise it would have been cleverly disguised.
An hour later I complete the round and come out with one extra stitch at the end. WTF?!?! So I trace my single crochets back and find I had left one out in the very same spot where I had previously included and extra! Did you hear me scream at 11 o'clock last night, Pacific Standard Time? Sorry if I woke you.
Yes...I will be frogging the round again and doing it a THIRD time. I'm sure with all of my practice that I will eventually get it right.
Now 57% Completed
So far this doily is going a lot faster than I anticipated. I probably should have gone with the one from Victorian Spiral Doilies, but if I get this one done quickly I can always add a second one.
Stash-A-Magee decided to inspect my work as well as attack it. You can see his paw in the first photo, too!
I found all of my Patricia Kristoffersen books last night and have found the doily that I think will be enough of a challenge for the 16 day period. Ultra Beauty from the book Ultimate Doilies (Leisure Arts #3401) has braided strips that are incorporated into the design. The use of safety pins is recommended to keep the braids together until stitched into place.
I had thought about tackling one of the doilies from Victorian Spiral Doilies Book One but decided against it when I read the warning that said patience would be required. Sure, I can muster up patience, but would rather save it for that time I am waiting in the line that doesn't move, I have to pee and eat, and the person being helped keeps taking forever.
This pattern calls for a 2.00 mm hook, which I don't have, and dread having to use either a Boye or Susan Bates hook. I'll just have to see what's available to me. (Grumble, grumble)
The creative itch to write has bested me, some ideas I've been mulling in my mind are finally manifesting and I've written a short piece that I hope to eventually expand into something more. I'd like to have a few readers (3 or 4 of you) of what I've generated so far who would be willing to provide some feedback. If you are interested drop me a line or comment and I'll send you the file.
It's a little more than 1400 words, about 3 pages, so it won't take you very long. I'm mostly looking for feedback on humor, enjoyable writing style, and is the topic interesting to you? Of course I'm interested regarding other aspects of the piece, too, such as constructive criticisms. I'm a perfectionist at heart and long to be told how I might improve.
Hopefully I've piqued enough curiosity and interest so that I don't have to invoke Mr. Doo to use his awesome mind powers on you to bend you to his will!
These are the sleeves to my SIL's sweater using Knitpick's Wool of the Andes in Hollyberry. I may have to add two more rows to make the sleeve a little longer, but will see if I have enough yarn.
I completed the back last night (all 25" of it) and started on the front. I should have this puppy done by Tuesday so I can mail out the box to my brother's family. Which means my sister's sweater won't be done—in fact, I had the horrible, awful realization I didn't buy enough yarn for hers. While she needed the next size up for the chest measurement, I measured her arm and will have to go the next size up for that, but the pattern for the next sized up chest doesn't have for the larger arm, which means I know already I am screwed because I calculated only for the smaller sleeve size. (Grinding teeth)
Well, I'll present to my sister what is completed by Christmas with the proviso when I get the additional yarn and complete the sweater she'll receive it all nice and shiny and new. I'm sure she'll be understanding about it. After all, she crochets and knits too!
As I'm typing this I hear a flock of geese flying overhead. It's been raining so much I think they are looking for a dryer place to live. There is only so much rain a person or goose can endure and it is very close to reaching the limit here. Since returning to Washington in May 2002, it's not been classically rainy during the winters, but this year is making up for it. I thought I detested the coldness and the snow of the northeast, but it wasn't this depressing! Why is rain so depressing? I think it may have to do with the less sun and daylight hours here versus the northeast. Strangely, where we are in Washington is farther north than we were in Pennsylvania and this difference in latitude accounts for about an hour less of daylight hours. In the summer it is so pretty here because we have an extended twilight and western horizon glow until almost 11 pm at the height of summer.
But, this entry isn't about another weather gripe. I'm sure most of you have already clicked on to the next blog as who wants to read another weather report?
Actually, what I'd like to say is that the new Orbs of Wisdom arrived in yesterday's mail! I had asked Regina for additional orbs and she obliged me with special requested ones. Now with my expanded Orbs I will catch up on all of those patient folk who requested readings so very long ago. I will get ambitious and post pictures of the new orbs this week. They are spectacular!
I spoke with my sister today and asked her what crochet stuff she has been working on and she said she got inspired by my fair entry doilies to take up crocheting again! She's working on a sampler square afghan and has made some doilies, too. I said I've got tons of stuff to show her and share with her. She was thrilled to hear about all of the various free patterns that exist in the world and that there are Clover Soft Touch hooks to be had. She agrees with me that crocheting is far faster and kinder than knitting. She was surprised to find out that crochet is considered "hillbilly art" as she never thought of it that way, but when I explained to her how knitters are snobby, she understood. She knows about coffee, wine, and beer snobs because this state has all of them, plus yarn snobs.
She's off to spend Turkey Day with my brother out in North Carolina, her first time out that way, and I told her she must find an authentic barbecue restaurant to chow down on some pork products. She said she would try to find something. I said it is usually cheap and good eats. I've watched all of those Food Network shows about to-die-for restaurants in the south to get good barbecue at and said she might want to go to the website and track down a place or two where she'll be.
She'll actually be very close to Elizabeth, a pity I'm not the one going to visit, but definitely next year I'll make a journey out that way.
Last but not least, I had said that eight new Shrones were to be inducted and I didn't announce all eight lucky ladies. I'm sure the suspense has been killing a few, and I don't mean to keep everyone waiting. So I shall endeavor this week to continue with the presentations.
I am panting and huffing. I just got back from a simple grocery shopping at Wal-Mart, nothing unusual, and I feel like someone has run me over. I didn't want to believe the doctor about taking a year to regain my health. That just feels like a very long time to feel normal again. I'm not even three months from my last surgery and I feel fatigued. My blood levels are fine as far as B-12 and iron. I am taking a multiple vitamin and mineral supplement and some Co-Enzyme Q10 for energy boost and so far no improvement.
If I don't come around by the end of the month, I'm going to have to seriously re-evaluate my return to school in January. Right now the idea of doing a 20 hr/wk internship sounds like working in the salt mines and it shouldn't be that way. It pains me though to have to remain dormant until next September to finish my degree. I feel like I'll get out of the loop.
I suppose the best thing would be, if I do decide I need more time to regain myself, is to find a volunteer position working in the field of mental health and get connected in the community. What's nice about a volunteer position is you can work as much as you can handle and nobody is going to get tweaky with you if you only stay for 4 hours, or your bag ruptures and you need to rush home.
I've been rock bottom before due to the nasty Rectal Dragon, but I've always bounced back with ease. Could the slow recovery be due to the fact I'm in the my 30's now? I know our bodies are much more resilient at age 18 than 33. I've also had many years of prednisone damage that hasn't totally gone away.
It sucks feeling like I should be out there moving with the speed of life only to get up off the couch, walk to the door, and start panting because I'm out of breath! That's my reality today. Panting. I could make crank phone calls as a heavy breather!
Well, the goodness in all of this is I bought the ceremonial Thanksgiving Turkey! Yes, a genuine Butterball™ not on sale, so it was 98¢/lb, and I got one in the 13 pound range. More bird than we need, but the single 10-pounder I could find looked sunken. As I was trying to scan bird weights I was overwhelmed with exhaustion and I struggled to pull the birds up to look at their tags. That's pathetic. I am no stronger than Mr. Burns!
Anyhow, I made it home and have discovered that my bag has ruptured again! It ruptured earlier this morning. This sucks! I went all of last week with a perfect seal that lasted 5-7 days. Now I can't keep a seal for more than 24 hours! But at least my ass isn't hurting me...I'd rather spring a leak than be back with a defunct rectum any day.
I'm participating in the Holiday Swap at C'Ville so I managed to muster up some motivation to crochet again. I'm making one of my signature easy sweaters for my swapee. I've got the back done and worked most of one sleeve yesterday. If I feel motivated today I should get the sleeves and most of the front made, if not the whole she-bang. It's just single crochets and chain one for the pattern. It goes quickly.
And now a momentary rant about our weather:
We've had rain storm after rain storm with a forecast of rain each day as far as they can tell! It's that time of year when I lament living here. I tell myself, "Rain is better than snow." Yet, I recall in Pennsylvania that we'd have sun and the frosty days looked so brilliant with all of the colors and such. I almost miss the ice and snow because there was sun to perk things up.
What sucks is this rainy season will not end until late spring.
I'm in a maudlin mood which I blame on the whacky hormones, dank weather, autumnal decay, lack of sunlight, and the dread of impending life changes that are looming around the corner like a big fuzzy Muppet monster.
I'm lamenting the changes I feel are about to come: That getting an internship (which I keep procrastinating about) will take me away from home too much. My humble abode is where I like to be. It is my sanctuary, my little cozy nest where I pamper my five feline babies, and where Pooky and I seek comfort and solace from the nastiness of life.
I lament that school and my impending internship will keep me from blogging and reading my bloggy friends' blogs, and that time for crocheting will be minimal.
I dread life after graduation in which I'll grind away at some agency and/or try to establish my own practice just to pay back my student loans.
In writing this out I realize that what I dread and fear isn't my dream coming true, but that life after graduation will be this monotonous struggle of work and tedium, that there won't be any joy in working at a profession I thought I'd enjoy. And that I'll have to give up bee-bopping around the house in my Rice Krispies pajama bottoms for pin-striped slacks and put shoes on each day and have to figure what I'll have to take to lunch.
Right now I fear that I don't have what it takes to be a counselor that people will like, want, or need. I don't see myself as a failure, I just see myself as inexperienced and lacking—wanting—and I have no idea how to fill the voids within me.
I've been struggling with the lessons taught to me by bridezillas #1 and #2, which harken back to the ultimate lesson my mother has been teaching me for 33 years. You will never be able to please some people no matter what you do. It just won't be enough or the right thing for them. It's hard to remember that it speaks more about them than you; but if I am to also simultaneously believe that all people work together to co-create a situation, then aren't I being spoken of, too, and it isn't just them and their problem that they can't be pleased?
I'm pointing a finger at myself asking me, "Why do I feel that I must strive to please people? Am I seeking acceptance? Do I want to feel good about myself? Do I want them to feel happy? Do I simply want to help? Is it really more about me in that I have this insane need to correct my mistakes?"
And why is it when autumn rolls around that I suddenly crave apples dipped in caramel sauce like a pregnant lady? It's like in the summer when I suddenly need an endless supply of club sandwiches and iced tea. It's driving me nuts!
I found out today that my faculty for pro-sem wants me to write the Beginning Theory of Counseling paper as soon as possible because she feels it is more a reflection of me at this point in time versus it being a solid academic paper. Even though this means I have to bullshit for 10 pages, I still have to write thoughtful bullshit about such things as: Describe the characteristics (no more than six) of an effective therapist, or Why and how is systemic framework important to the counseling process?
There is some reading I'm going to have to do, but I am not keen about it. It feels like reading will interfere with eating apples dipped in caramel sauce.
I made contact with my new classmates yesterday. I'm part of a very small group now. The Winter track has fewer students and so soon I'll get to know everyone—I hope. I like smaller groups;I prefer them.
Somehow I've managed to write almost four pages today without getting to the real academic questions that require me to crack a book. It's a good thing double-spacing exists along with fonts that are big even at 12 points. Throw in the section headers and it helps to fill the 10 pages.
I also need to write a summary about the statistics used in a professional journal article and then before Module 2 write the update to my autobiography. The update will be the easiest thing to accomplish. I may have to write how I crave caramel dipped apples in autumn and club sandwiches in the summer and how this speaks of a greater, systemic aspect of my dynamic, luminous being! ;-)
Today I'd like to rip out my uterus and see what the hell is going on with it. For the past month it has been doing a threatening sort of twinge and cramp, with each day I feel more and more pre-menstrual but with nothing happening to bring sweet relief from the pangs and moodiness of whacked-out hormones. I just know next week while I'm away at Module the dam will burst and I'll feel like the spawn of Satan unleashed to wreak havoc on the world. My head will spin; split pea soup will spew; a blood-bath will be reported on the local evening news.
Ever since going stomated, I've dreaded having my period because that means wearing undies (I'm not a tampon girl) and I've grown accustomed to being footloose and fancy-free, but more importantly, I haven't found any undies that feel right since all of them either squash up the ileostomy bag or ride beneath the flange making it feel like the bag will pop off. I may have to reconsider the use of tampons...NOT!
Besides, everything down there feels tightened up as if it had been placed on a reproductive Medieval torturing rack, only instead of stretching it was scrunching.
While I don't mind the occasional deja vu, I keep having these bodily and mental moments of reliving being sick like I was during the summer, and I feel haunted and disturbed by it. It's going to take awhile for these memories to become blurs, and it can't happen fast enough. I think what was worse for me was the fever/sickness I had last month that was either the flu or a UTI. That was more unbearable than my time in the hospital.
Being I'm in a twisted mood, I'm trying to make sense of the comments left regarding my mother's business practice of charging more when putting an item on sale. If I may correct myself, I'd rather say she is acting selfish as opposed to greedy, for her attitude about it comes across as being selfish. I'm not rescinding she has a greedy streak, however. She does.
I take issue with her deception. Instead of marking up the price through a supposed sale, why not just remark the price and announce "Now $3.99!" She doesn't always put up a big sign to draw attention to a product, so perhaps doing just that will work.
I have no issue with her raising her prices in order to stay in business. It is how she goes about raising them that I think is wrong on so many levels. What is even more disturbing is that she shows no care or concern about it being deceptive, which is why I feel it is being selfish. It's like she wants to purposefully bilk people, to find the suckers in the crowd.
Setting prices is a tricky aspect of doing business. Where her shop is at the local people won't pay Seattle prices. That means she has to sell more yarn at lower prices, and with a new Michael's opening up, she's got that type of competition to deal with.
But, if her customers catch on to her being deceptive in the end I think she'll gain a negative reputation. She already has it set in her mind that all women are completely stupid and she will treat them as such simply because they fail to catch on quickly how to read a pattern or pick up how to cast on in knitting that she feels is the one and only way to cast on.
I've seen how she'll be incredibly rude and disrespectful to people whom she's instantly labeled as being "stupid." And if she doesn't think they are stupid, then she will cast another judgement against them that is just as negative. If I hear one more sexist remark out of her mouth about women being dumb I may lash out at her and rip out her tongue!
When I worked at my university as a grad assistant in the continuing eduation department I had my first exposure to how people lack common sense at times (like the one lady who wanted to know if she could fax me a check to pay a fee), some even struck me as having a few screws loose, but I wouldn't call them dumb or stupid. I may even say a few were ignorant, but ignorance is correctable. Stupidity can't be taught, and I can't say if I've ever met anyone who is beyond teaching. The only thing that keeps people from learning are two things: severe brain damage (like the brain is missing), and the biggest culprit of all is: the person's attitude toward learning.
Before I slither away for the night and sulk because my body threatens to menstruate but won't, I'd just like it to be known that if I had any Barbie dolls in my possession I would cheerfully mutilate them by cutting their hair and dressing them up in awful clothing like I would do as a little girl when I would get snarky feeling.
What's keen is I got some new Patricia K. doily pattern books in the mail, so maybe if I don't feel so evil I'll start one. Yesterday when I came home I found that the kittens had gotten into the thread christening gown I had started and destroyed it. I hadn't gotten very far, so I wasn' totally bummed out, and I had to fix a mistake I had made and was avoiding that, so perhaps the kittens were doing me a favor by putting it out of its misery?
One of these days I won't be talking about how I don't feel like crocheting and will actually be crocheting! Even with all of these new patterns I have to swoon over, I don't feel the spark of life within me. All I want to do is eat apples dipped in caramel sauce.
I fondue, do you?
Since everyone who commented like the little tea set my sister got me from the Cattitude collection, I thought I'd show the Tea For Two set that started it all. Mind you, my sister didn't know I collected this, but it does show that she still knows what I'd like!
So far the only place I know where to buy this collection is at The Tea Lady in Olympia. It's a great little shop that is still fairly new. I'm glad it still reamins in business as it is a place I love to shop, and wish I could spend more money there. It's next door to a paint-your-own ceramic shop which I'd love to stop in and paint up something, as I have always enjoyed ceramics. One of these days...
Yesterday we meet with my sister and her husband. It had been since 1997 since we've seen each other. Last weekend we had planned to get together, but since I was barfing and freaking out with a fever, I had to cancel.
Can you believe I forgot to bring with me the birthday gift I bought? I had told myself over and over not to forget, and I just don't listen to myself!
Well, she didn't forget to bring the get-well/birthday gift that she got for me. How thrilled I was to find she had gotten me more pieces to the Hues N' Brews Cattitude collection! I had just informed Pooky with the holidays upon us that he'd have to get me more from the collection, this time in pink or purple.
Pooky had been wanting to go to Red Lobster for the Endless Shrimp meal, and I needed to go too, since I first saw the commercial while in the hospital and developed a shrimp scampi need.
My sister agreed to joining us as who can refuse endless shrimp unless you have a seafood allergy?
We sat for three hours eating and talking, talking and eating. We shared cat stories, humorous experiences, and for a bit Pooky and my BIL talked about life in the Navy. Both had spent some time in the Norfolk area.
After eating way too much coconut shrimp and greasy, garlic-y scampi, I gave up, and managed to eat most of a slice of kep lime pie. Everyone else continued to get more shrimp and skipped the dessert.
I have to pinch myself. For so long I told myself that I'd never see my sister again, 'cause I said some really awful things to her, and ever since I said them, I regretted saying them, but once you've done something like that you can't take it back. I think at the time I was so mad at her that I wanted to say nasty things to her, so I did.
Now I realize that saying nasty things gets you nowhere. But in looking at the word nowhere, you can divide it to read: now here. I'm here—now—and we've meet and we've talked, and all I can think is maybe it took me having to loose a couple feet of bowel, being in horrible pain, and maybe being knocked off track with school and my education to be "now here".
If the price to pay was some pain and my bowel in order for me to see my sister again, then it has been worth it all. And in the bargain I've gotten to see my dad and talked to my older brother. I thought these things wouldn't happen, but at the same time I kept hoping so very hard that it would.
Along with the price of my health, my relationship with my mother is strained, but that is nothing new. I can no longer stay silent around her when I feel the need to say something, so if she is going to get upset and bellow, that is her way. For too long I've said nothing letting her believe that the way that she feels is the way that I feel. It isn't being honest with her. It isn't being true to myself, either.
It has worked out perfectly too that she has said she will never bring up the subject of my siblings. She was putting me in an uncomfortable spot at times, and I didn't want to go there with her. I had told her that I would not be discussing them with her at all prior to our little disagreement from last week. Yet, she had to bring out the old ghosts and goblins anyhow.
I'm feeling the sense of newness and excitement with reuniting with my sister. Even though it felt like we picked up where we left off when our relationship was good, I feel like I don't really know her since so much time has passed. Is she still how I knew her? There is stuff about me, too, that is different, and new.
Where do we go from here? That's exciting. We can go anywhere we want! The possibilities are endless!
I value her too much to mess things up. Being deprived of that side of my family made me realize just how much I missed it. I can't think about my childhood anymore without feeling a sense of loss, of yearning to be back in time when I was a kid, before my mother got the itch to divorce my dad. There was a time in there when things were pretty good, and if I could go back in time and be there for a minute or two and say to everyone how much it has hurt to be divided, to be torn apart—would my mother and father listen to what I would have to say?
But we can't rewrite the past. We can only write the future. As it unfurls before us...we bring with us to the present so much that clouds our judgment. If only we could live free of the pain of the past, live entirely new and open to what is to come...Then we'd live every moment to its fullest.
I got my period over the weekend and along with it my gut went nuts, my body went wonky, and I've done not much of anything but watch movies on TV and have flashbacks from the past months of where I was sick in the hospital or sick at home. Why does our brain suddenly release these memories when triggered by a sound, a scent, or a visual stimuli?
It feel like I'm in a mental prison and no matter how many "happy thoughts" I try to remember to chase away the icky-awful ones, the icky-awful ones are too vivid for my comfort level.
This weekend I've not been pleased with being an ostomate because I've had to wear underwear and I hate wearing underwear. My period isn't very heavy, though it has a right be since it's been on hold for three months. The cramps were typical for me, but the emotional/hormonal aspect has been three months' worth of PMS.
This evening we're going over to my dad's house for pizza. I just hope I can make it through without feeling worse. I do feel better than the past two days. That's because I've medicated myself into a stupor. When it doubt: medicate. It always seems to do the trick.
Pooky was real good about making food. I sent him to buy steaks and he even grilled them perfectly. He also got the rice made ok; too wet the first night, but good the second. I know I bitch at him when he cooks; it's that damn Virgo trait of mine to hover and worry about food being prepared exactly right, so more often than not I snap and then have to apologize later for my outbursts. He just chalks it up to PMS. That sums up what being a Virgo can be like at times: never-ending PMS.
I've got weddings the next two weekends, two a piece for each Saturday. The phonebook ad lady called me today to remind me it's time to renew the phonebook ad. I want to expand into the Olympia market; hope it won't cost me an arm and two legs. The ad I currently have was over $800. Advertizing isn't cheap! I just hope the ad will pay for itself. I have gotten maybe 5 calls from the ad but no real income from it. I think it will take awhile before people catch on.
So much for early menopause! (The percocet has kicked in so I'll sign off before I give away trade secrets!)
One of my greatest laments about being sickly the past two months is that my gardening has suffered. Despite that I've not watered, weeded, Miracle-Gro'ed and performed the Dark Arts upon my flower beds, stuff has still managed to grow and thrive. Not all of it weeds to my surprise.
The amount of lilies I planted last year is far more than what came up this year, so I think next spring I'll have to replenish what died or disappeared beneath the soil. What confounds me is how out of control in growth the bleeding heart plant is! I gave it two doses of Miracle-Gro earlier in the season and I can't believe how it became a monster. I'm going to have to prune it back this fall or else it will choke out the tulips that are around it.
Another plant out of control is the lamb's ear I planted last year. It's really consumed the space I put it in. The lavender next to the rose bush also is monster in size. I'm also stunned at the powers of the rose bush. Despite how sickly it looks it keeps flowering, though this year the blooms aren't as many because I wasn't out applying the various poisons to it each week to "cure" it of whatever it was suffering from, be it insects or mildews or whatever it has going on.
There is one problem that is apparent and that is that some evil vine has crept into the yard and is taking over. It is infested within the rose bush and is working its way around the house. It's in the back yard and seems to be taking over the rhododendron bush up front. I wonder how easy it's going to be to slay this wicked vine? Just the word vine makes me shudder more than the word weed.
The lawn is suffering because we've not been able to apply to it the various lawn enhancing chemicals it requires. The dandelions reign supreme. Perhaps they are killing off the moss that plagues the yard? I can only hope. I'm wishingfully thinking by autumn we can afford to apply some fertilizer to help it out. It has suffered so much and it was just starting to look healthy. The previous owners of this house really did nothing to the grass and it showed.
Part of me thinks about just herbiciding everything and starting over. I see the HUGE weeds growing in the flower beds and I feel weak just looking at them. I've never seen thistles the size looming in the tulip beds. I guess that is what a weed-whacker is for?
WIP
Last night I completed the back of the sweater and got 20 rows into the front. I'm moving right along. I may cut it close with having just enough yarn to make the sweater. I started on the last ball and will have the neck to complete once the front it made and I sew a few seams together.Ro sung my praise for understanding stitch gauge, but the test will come when I try to determine how to work the neck shaping. I'll feverishly work out some mathematical ratios to determine how many stitches, become hopelessly frustrated, and then just wing it.
I've been working on another secret project on the sly and once the sweater is done I think I'll work on getting the secret project made. It should go quickly (I hope). Before module 6 I have a sweater to make for a classmate, but I am not going to develop a repetitive stress injury trying to make it in a week. She said she wasn't in any hurry to have it made, so I can plod along with that at a comfortable rate.
That about wraps up my WIP Wednesday.
I've learned one important thing as a self-proclaimed sweater maven: measure, measure, measure! The sooner the better to make sure the size will come out as it should be.
I was about 15 rows into the front of said sweater when I looked at it and thought: No, this isn't wide enough. So out I whipped the trusty measuring tape and found out that it measured only 18 inches and it needed to be at least 19!
When I calculated the number of stitches to adjust the stitch gauge, my math said it should be 19 inches, and I even measured the initial row which measured in at 19 inches, but in the process of working the pattern the yarn tightened up (which happens) and so it shrank! Egads! Thankfully the pattern is fast and I frogged the mistaken stitches and restarted with a few more stitches. It is now 19½ inches which should be just fine.
I decided to stop at 31 rows and have worked about 11 inches. I should get to the 15 inch mark tomorrow and start shaping the sleeves. Along the way I'll continue to measure, measure, measure!
I learned my lesson the painful way with the last wearable I made for somebody. I was two-thirds completed when I realize that the size was way too small and so I frogged the entire thing and started over. My vow was to never let that happen again. I'm doing my best to keep my promise.
It is Thor's day, but instead of thunder and lightining there was a rainbow outside. My study partners saw it as they left. We had an awesome, productive day! And all with Madam Nym's son being cranky and whinining. (Madam Nym is one of my study partners, my newly assigned name for her.)
Mr. Doo wasn't too certain about Madam Nym's son, and I caught Mr. Doo hunting this child. The boy is eight years old, a rather large speciment to take down, but Mr. Doo acted like he was up to the task. Mr. B hid underneath the bed and didn't make an appearance. I gave out tuna to the beasts before my classmates arrived. This made both felines feel better, though I think Mr. Doo now feels I owe him for the transgression of having the prolonged disturbance of house guests.
Last night I worked on some secret crochet, and I proved to myself that I truly understand stitch gauge and how to manipulate it to adjust for using different yarn and hook sizes. If all goes well I should be able to make the second sleeve tonight and possibly be completed with the project next week.
I mailed out the romper set to my classmate yesterday and the delivery confirmation said it arrived today. Hopefully they aren't on vacation and the box is just sitting somewhere...Anyhow, I'm sure they will be pleased with the new little outfit. It felt so soft after being washed and treated with Downy.
And while I was ordering some Homespun from Knitting-warehouse.com I splurged and bought the last two Clover Soft Touch hooks that I don't yet own, so in a few days I'll have the complete set. I found out that the stitch row counter does fit on the end of the handle, but it has to be the larger size counter.
My motivation has returned and so tomorrow I'll get my internship application mailed out and I'll start working more seriously on transcribing my notes from class.
I added Haloscan comments to my blog because I've received a few bits of feedback that Typekey is a pain to use. I think Haloscan loads a lot faster and should be more use-friendly.
One of my learning goals is to ask for feedback from others as I think I've not been very good at asking this from others. I'd like to hear from you, so please take a moment and drop me a line.
What I'd like to know:
If I were a counselor or therapist in your community, would you utilize my services? (If you answer yes, try to be specifc why you said yes. If you said no, also please be specific. Pretend we're not friends if that is a concern.)
Going by what you do know about me, what attributes or traits do you see in me that you feel make for a good counselor or therapist? Likewise, what attributes or traits do you think detract from me being a good counselor or therapist?
What one or two things do you most expect from a person who is a counselor or therapist when you have your initial visit with them?
I know this is probably going to be biased in your responses, but one thing I'd like to do with my practice as a therapist is art therapy, specifically use knit, crochet, scrapbooking, etc. as a means to help others. What are your thoughts on this type of therapy?
Now, be honest ;-)! Are you looking forward to me being degreed and credentialed so you can ask me for free relationship advice?
If you'd prefer not to answer via the comments section, you can anonymously e-mail at: unknowable.shrone [at] gmail dot com.
The yarn that was delayed by the train derailment arrived yesterday, safe and sound. I thus began working on the Diamon Lace Tunic for my classmate who generously is paying me $100 to do so. I completed the series of increases on the sleeve and now just need to continue to achieve the proper length. It should go quickly. The pattern is easy to repeat once it becomes memorized.
My only gripe about this pattern is that they don't explain very well how to recover from the stitch increase, but I have figured it out on my own. It works, and that's all that matters.
In other news, Pooky and I went up to Shipwreck Beads to buy the raw materials to make beaded stitch markers to sell at my mom's yarn shop. I'm hoping that they will be a big hit.
I don't know what to sell them for, but will discuss it with my mom. Since she is way outside of Seattle, preferences and pricing is much different. The ladies up there will pay more for the same yarn or handmade projects. Where she is at, the money doesn't flow as much from the businesses, so she has to charge less in some cases.
It's interesting how that all works out. It's like they say about real estate: location, location, location.
If I can double my investment on the markers, I'd like to try selling some markers for crochet. I've found the type of clasp/closure that should fit nicely around the stitches.
It's easy to make really expensive markers because there are so many wonderful beads! Perhaps I'll have to splurge on my next visit and buy a few special beads to make as gifts, but for now I just hope the ones Pooky and I made last night will sell.