To Procrastinate or Not to Procrastinate...

First let's give a little update on Bird.

Her scab on her right knee is "Venus."  The scab on her left knee is larger, so it is "Mars."  And the tiny boo-boo on her elbow is "Pluto."  

I think she's going to make a full recovery.

Despite all my innate procrastination tendencies, I have actually pinned my pretty pretty butterfly shawl to block.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.  That may be the worst picture I have ever displayed on my blog.  I fully intend to get out my tripod and take better pictures of my shawl.  Maybe I'll do it tomorrow.  Or next Monday.  Or sometime in the near future, the exact time to be determined at a later date.

Procrastination Rules!

I have finished Pork Chop's green hat.

It is awesome.  If I hadn't already told her this hat was for her, I would probably keep this hat for myself.  Only I can't wear hats, because if my  head gets too hot I get migraines (I know, crazy stupid.  How can a knitter not be able to wear hats?  What have I done to deserve such bad karma.  I must have killed kittens for fun in a previous life.).  Pork Chop is not yet home from school.  Otherwise I would display the magnificence that is this hat on her pretty pretty head.  But she isn't here.  So I can't do that.  I will get better pictures sometime in the near future, the exact time to be determined at a later date.

Woo-Hoo!

Procrastinators Unite!

Only I can procrastinate no longer. 

Easter looms.

And if I want to fill Easter Baskets with genuine not-hand-knit bunny slippers

I need to get hooking.

Rambling

Sometimes it simply does not pay to do a good job and be good at your job.  Because if you do too good a job watering the plants

Somebody might decide that we need more plants to water.

In all actuality it is a good thing that we bought more strawberry plants.  The children have been circling the strawberry plants like a kettle of vultures.  Each day they check to see if there is a ripe berry.  They have devised a rotating order in which they eat the ripe berries.  The next berry belongs to Pork Chop.  We need more strawberry plants if we ever hope to have enough ripe strawberries at one time to make strawberry shortcake.  Or strawberry pie.

But seriously, that is a lot of watering. I might need to start singing as I flit from plant to plant like an aging disney princess.  Just so I don't get bored.

Speaking of the children, Bird took a header off her scooter today on the way home from school.  She has road rash on both knees and an elbow.  There were many tears.  Her wounds were cleaned, disinfected and sprayed with a numbing spray.

Still she cried.

For an hour she cried.

Sniffling over her homework, it was very sad and pathetic.

It wounded my heart so to hear my baby cry and see her big fat tears rolling down her face.  Unable to stand for another minute, I lovingly told her that it was time to suck it up.  We had tended to the wounds.  I know they didn't hurt anymore because, remember, the numbing spray.  She has no cause to weep.  Yes, she took a terrible tumble, but tears weren't making it better.  She needed to find another way to cope with her trauma.

She decided her wound looks like Venus, and now she loves it and hopes it never ever ever heals.

Kids.

Go figure.

Ummmm, what to blog now?

How about some knitting!

I have finished my pretty pretty butterfly shawl.

It is taking a bath before blocking.

Blocking bowl pictures are so boring.  I really should have included the zombies in the picture.  But they were looking a bit peckish, so I decided to leave well enough alone.

It is shorter than I had hoped.  Only 14 inches.  And really really really wide.  Like 80 inches wide.  I debated frogging the entire thing and knitting it with less pattern repeats so it wouldn't be 80 inches wide.

But frogging with beads is such a pain.

I decided to err on the side of lazy and see what it looks like after blocking.

I can always frog it later.

With no pretty pretty butterfly shawl on the needles, I was once again without a project.

I am still not speaking to my Orange olive basket.

So I took this from my Big Lots haul.

And turned it into this.

When it grows up it hopes to be a slouchy hat for Pork Chop.

Filler

My butterflies dance and grow.

You can't tell, because it is unblocked.

But someday those lumpy misshapen holes will be beautiful butterflies.  That is the magic of blocking.

The bunny slippers are lost in the abyss.  Half crocheted.  Missing ears.  And tails.  And faces.  I'm sure they feel unloved with the way they were unceremoniously stuffed in a bag and shoved into the closet.

At least they have each other.

In other fun news, I bought new yarn today.

I'm a big spender buying $1 yarn at Big Lots.

I don't normally go for the novelty yarn, but I'm super excited for the pom yarn.

I think it will make a cute scarf for Sweet Pea to wear to school next year.

Friday Lovin

This week I'm loving...

Our first tiny harvest...

It may have been small, but all great things start small.  

They were small and delicious.

I displayed my great love for my child and my amazing powers of parental sacrifice by giving a strawberry to Sweet Pea.

She loved it too.

Speaking of Sweet Pea...

I'm loving this kid.  This is her fierce lion face.  I don't know about you, but I find it very scary.

Finally, I'm loving...

My decoy knitting project.

I can no longer work on my not-so-handknit bunny slippers in front of the children.  They are starting to ask what I'm doing.  Darn those curious kids of mine.  That left me with a problem.  My souper seekrit Knit Picks project is all blocked, ends woven in and shipped to Knit Picks.  My orange basket is in a time out.  My stripey goodness needs blocked.

I had nothing to knit.

I was in the mood for a little bit of lace.  Lace.  And beads.  So tiny grey butterflies it is!

I'm addicted to knitting these pretty little lacy shapes.  Watching the swarm of butterflies grow and disperse as the shawl grows.  So addicted I haven't worked on the bunny slippers since Wednesday.  If I don't have 12 sets of bunny ears done in time for Easter I'm blaming the butterflies.

BUNNY TAILS!

I'm not gonna lie.

I spent several hours yesterday making pom after pom after pom after pom just so I could take this picture.

Why did I want this picture so badly?

So I could title it "BUNNY BUTTS."

Then I realized that made no sense because these aren't bunny butts.  They are bunny tails.

So, BUNNY TAILS!

I now have a painful blister at the base of my thumb from the tiny embroidery scissors that I used.

I'm not gonna lie.

It was TOTALLY worth it.

Trying To Rise Above...And Failing

Usually I'm a huge fan of doing what you want.

I think that as long as you understand how you are making the stitches and what they do, there is no wrong way to knit or crochet.  If you love the results then keep on with your bad self.

And I don't judge what other people knit/crochet.

I was once at a knitting group where they spoke passionately about the pointlessness of knitting socks when you live in the desert.  It was a waste of time, money, and resources they clucked to one another.  Plus, brightly colored sock yarn is ugly.

And there I sat, about a foot from them.

Contently knitting a brightly colored sock.

Awkward.

I don't knit with them anymore.  We have basic philosophical differences in our approach to knitting.

Knit what you want.  You want to spend your entire creative career making nothing but dish cloths?  Fantastic!  Fair isle sweaters covered with ejaculating penises (penisi?).  Not my thing but what ever.  And yes, that is a real thing.  Want to knit solely is blue?  Whatever works.

Don't want to knit?  Fine.  Don't knit if it will make you unhappy.  Paint, write, sculpt, do wood working, garden.  There are so many other ways to create.  Just find a happy place.

But my Bird.

My Beautiful Bird.

She tests my resolve to be non judgmental and supportive of other crafters.

She spends hours taking a ball of yarn and turning it into a ball of crocheted chain.

That's it.

That's all she does.

And when she has crocheted an entire skein of yarn, she asks me to buy her a new one.

So she can make another chain.

She has no desire to do anything else but this.  She has no idea what anyone should do with the crochet chain.  She has suggested that maybe I should knit it into something.  But she has no interest in learning to knit her crochet chain into something.  She only wants to crochet the chain.  What happens after that is of no concern to her.

For the love of all that is good could she learn to make something useful like a dish cloth!

But I can't say that to her.  Because she is so happy making her crocheted chains.  It is her happy place.

And I don't judge what other crafters make.

So I buy her another skein of Red Heart.

And I judge her just a little bit.

But I feel totally guilty for it.

So it all balances out.

In other crochet news

I just might get all the not-hand-knit bunny slippers done in time for Easter after all!

Coming Up For Air

My Souper Seekrit knitting is finally done at last!  

Isn't it beautiful!

Well, sure, that's the inside of the sweater.  And the photo is in black and white.  But can't you just tell that it is gorgeous?  And expertly knit?

Someday I hope to tell the tale of this knit, cause dang, I'm impressive.  Until then I'll just have to walk around feeling smug and proud of my knitting skill.

My smugness over my skills is so great that nobody is going to want to be around me.

I didn't need friends anyways.

I've got my bunnies.

My stripey knit is also done.

When my brain felt like exploding from the complexities of my seekrit knit, I turned to my stripey knit.  Someday I plan to block it and share the wonderment of my colors with the world.

Today is not that day.

In other news I have discovered that in addition to being a first rate knitter, I am an excellent water-er.

My garden

It grows!

Every morning I go in the backyard in my bathrobe and water my plants with my super cool vintage metal water can.  My super cool vintage watering can is kind of a pain in the butt.  It leaks like crazy.  I love it anyways.  I want to sing and dance around as I travel from plant to plant like an aging Disney Princess.  But I like my neighbors.  So I don't.

Sweet Pea is already convinced that we need to pick that fledgling strawberry NOW.  I'm positive one morning I will go outside and it will have mysteriously disappered.  She will tell me "It wasn't me Mom.  No really Mom.  It wasn't me."  But we will both know the truth.

In other news I have decided that I need to knit the entire family bunny slippers for Easter.

Yes, I know there are six of us, so that would mean twelve slippers.

And I also know that the chances of me getting The Greatest to wear a pair of hand knit bunny slippers are very small.  Possibly non-existent.  And if he won't wear them, neither will Meaty.

And I know that the pattern I have chosen to use to create these hand knit bunny slippers is a crochet pattern.  So they won't be hand knit after all.

I am doing it anyways.

I figure that if I knit a slipper a day every day I will be done two days before Easter.

I'm off to a good start.

Adventures in Migraines

I don't like to say it, because I'm really superstitious and I'm pretty sure I'll jinx myself if I even think it, but I've mostly got my migraines under control.

For the moment.

Except for the weather.

I can't control the weather.

But the weather likes to control me.

suck monkey.

Crazy storm fronts, violent changes in temperature, sudden drops in barometric pressure, they all mess with me.

And I had all three of those things yesterday.

Oh.the.pain.

Suck monkey!

I tried to knit my crazy hard super secret color work.  I didn't want to, but I kinda had to.  My deadline is looming.

Sitting on my couch with an ice pack, I worked for four hours to knit two inches.

Then I discovered my stitch count was off.

Suck.Monkey!

I couldn't find where I went wrong with all the decreases and the color changes.

So I spend another half hour carefully frogging my four hours worth of work.

I began anew.

I spent an hour tediously knitting five rows.

I checked the stitch count after each and every row to be sure I was on track.  And I was.  Everything was a go!

Then I realized I was using the wrong colors.

SUCK.MONKEY!

At that point I gave up.

I wrote myself a post it note of what was wrong (so I wouldn't accidentally just pick it up and start knitting.  That has been known to happen).

I fed the kids root beer popsicles for dinner and let them stay up past their bedtime watching "Wreck it Ralph."  (Oh, Kenneth the Page and Sue Sylvester.  This NEEDS to happen in real life.  Do you hear me Glee?)

I started a new project because I needed one that required absolutely  no brain power what so ever.

A stripey scarf, knit flat to avoid dealing with the color jog.

I loves it.

Still feeling the pain today, but there is no rest for the weary, and this is SPRING BREAK!

Is it even worth it to try using my brain today?

Another Post About Nothing

I do a lot of frogging.

I knit things.  Halfway through the project I have a freak out.  I hate it.  The yarn doesn't work with the pattern.  The sizing is all wrong.  The entire thing must be killed with fire.

I have a crisis of confidence.

It is time for my crisis of confidence with my orange Olive Basket.  This is also the exact same point in the knitting that I had my crisis of confidence with  my brown Olive Basket.  The one I frogged.

Remember how I knit the bottom band of basket weave too wide by accident and was too lazy to rip out the extra inch?

My laziness might have been a mistake.

I think the extra wide band makes my hips look extra wide.

And boldly I will show you from the back.

Yup.  Wider than I like to pretend I am in my mind.

I am on the fence about this.  I could knit the sleeves and see how it changes the look.  They could balance everything out.  I'm guessing if I finish the sleeves and collar I will love this sweater.  Or it could be a disaster and maybe I should cut my losses now.

This is the point where I throw it into The Abyss while I mull it over in my mind for a bit.

Which is good because I'm not supposed to be working on my Olive Basket anyways.

I'm supposed to be doing souper seekrit color work.  Finishing things up before Spring Break starts at 3:15 tomorrow.

I'd better get knitting!

I've decided upon a movie marathon to keep my company.

I have not seen the final movie yet.  I'm hoping everyone dies.  I've read (and possibly) own the books so I'm pretty sure they don't.  But I can't just jump in with the final one.  I need to refresh my memory of all the previous movies.  The Greatest has decided he would rather clean the dog poop in the backyard then enjoy this sparkly cinematic disaster with me.  If I had know that cheesy vampires would have this effect on him I would have been watching them weekly.

And quoting them to him.

I would have the prettiest backyard in the neighborhood.

Falling

Important things first.

I love this kid!

It is mustache day at school and she is wearing her mustache with gusto!

I drew one on my 12 year old.  She looked at it in the mirror and decided that she can NOT be seen in public looking so undignified.  Thank goodness I drew it on with eye liner and not a sharpie.  Her mustache was unceremoniously scrubbed off.

But not my Bird.

She is eight years old, and she OWNS the world.  She does everything she wants to in her own time, and in her own way.  Nobody tells her what to do.  Nobody is going to tell her she can't wear a mustache.

How do I keep her just as she is always?  How do I keep the world from taking that away from her?

In crafty blogging news, I got a metric ton of souper seekrit hooking done yesterday.

But I can't show them off before the Mother-to-Be sees them.  And if the history of my blog is any indicator, this may be the only picture of these items that you ever see.  You'll have to take my word for it.  They are super cute, and tiny.  I love them.

In other craft related news, because of the souper seekrit hooking yesterday I needed buttons.

My buttons are kept in The Abyss.  I used to know exactly where in The Abyss my bag of buttons was.  Then The Greatest decided to "help" me out by rearranging my items in The Abyss so they would fit better.  I haven't been able to find anything since, including my buttons.

Sometimes he sucks.

My innate laziness kept me from restoring proper order to The Abyss.  If I couldn't find it then I could live without it.

Except I really needed buttons.

I'm not gonna lie.  I contemplated buying new buttons.

I submitted my new button requisition form to my bank account.

My request was denied.

I could procrastinate no longer.  Bravely I ventured into The Abyss.

I sorted.

I organized.

I found my buttons.

But I couldn't stop there.

I found every single knitting needle I own.  Even my size 4 Addi Turbo that has been missing for years.

I found all my missing stitch holders.  They've been missing for over a year.  Two thirds of them were on random half knit projects.

I threw away yarn.

I'll give you a minute to recover from the horror.

I threw away teeny tiny quarter size balls of yarn left over from projects I knit a decade ago.  What did I ever think I was going to do with them?

I got rid of my first, second, third and fourth attempt at Evil.  That yarn was truly awful.

I threw away half done baby sweaters that weren't working and have been long outgrown anyways.    They were not worth salvaging.

I got rid of ugly scratchy left over yarn balls.

It actually felt pretty good.

I still have a lot of yarn.

Not as much as I would like to own.

But a lot.

I frogged and salvaged the yarn from three more projects.

I found four almost finished objects.


And I finished them.

I was on a roll!

I was unstoppable.

I am KNITTER!  Hear me ROAR!

Pride cometh before a fall.

And how I fell.

This morning I began to photograph a pair of sock I made for The Greatest.

When I discovered this

That thing?  That thing just to the right of the middle that doesn't look right?  That thing is a dropped stitch.   A dropped stitch in the sole of my completely finished sock.

What was it I was just saying about being a talented knitter who doesn't make newbie mistakes?

*hangs head in shame*

I don't know how this could have happened.  But I do know that I am absolutely, positively not going to frog half a sock to pick up that dropped stitch.

Instead I laddered it up as far as I could and pulled it to the wrong side.

I began to duplicate knit the stitches in the row above the dropped stitch about an inch away from the dropped stitch.

When I got to the dropped stitch I ran the needle up through the dropped stitch, then in pattern with the duplicate knit.

Then I ran it down through the duplicate knit stitches and back down the dropped stitch.

I continued to duplicate knit for another inch or so.

Voila!

No more dropped stitch.

These are Honey Badger Socks I knit for The Greatest from discontinued Knit Picks yarn (I think it was Sock Garden in "Fly Fishing" colorway, but I could be wrong.  It's happened before).

And yes, that is my dirty Honey Badger t-shirt.

Cause Honey Badger don't care.

And I'm Classy like that.

Always

Let's face it.

I am a kick-ass knitter.

My blog is much less interesting these days because I simply do not have the knitting disasters I suffered as a new knitter.  No more tales of dropped lace stitches, wrong needle sizes, small children who frog a perfectly good project simply because they can.

I now possess a hard won knowledge of gauge and how to use it.  I understand the different yarn weights.  Drape, yarn overs, increases, decreases, stranded knitting, intarsia, cables, I can do it all!

I am knitter, hear me ROAR!

Proper ease in a garment?

*hangs head in shame* I'm still working on that one.

Nobody's perfect.

Overall, I am an excellent, talented knitter.

But always.

Every time.

Always.

When  a family member/friend/person I know at church/stranger I just met at the library says "Hey, I saw this very cute knitted thing, do you think you could make one for me?"

That cute knitted thing?

It is crochet.

Always.

Every time.

Always.

Don't get me wrong.

There is nothing wrong/bad/inferior about crochet.

I can crochet.  I am very comfortable holding a crochet needle.  While I knit with the yarn in my right hand, I am just fine holding the yarn in my left hand to crochet.  I can maintain good tension with even stitches.  I can even translate that hard won knowledge of gauge as it applies to crochet.

I just don't.

And since I never use it, I don't keep a working knowledge of the crochet stitches in an easily accessible part of my brain.  I always have to look up how many yarn overs make a dc vs hdc vs a tr vs a tsp (I'm not even sure that last one is a real thing, it might be a cooking measurement).  And if I don't look it up I invariably get it wrong and end up with a hat that was dc when it should have been hdc and instead of fitting a newborn, it is now slightly large on my five year old.

Why do I bring this up?

Because Souper Seekrit baby knitting is hooking it today.

The things I do for the people I love.

I'm an amateur hooker.

My Father will be so proud!

A Post About Nothing

Busy, Busy Weekend.

Someday my life won't be so busy, busy.

I'll probably be on my deathbed by that point.

But at least I'll get some much needed rest before I die.

We did our spring planting.

Every year we buy plants.  It used to be flowering plants.  In the past few years, as the economy gets worse and worse, and we get poorer and poorer, it has been food type plants.  Tomatoes, berry bushes. herbs.

I don't know why we do this.

Every year our plants die.

The Greatest had the greenest of thumbs when we lived back east.  But here in the desert, he just can't get it to grow.

But hope springs eternal?

The Greatest is sure this is our year.  We've finally figured it out.  He is positive our plants died last year because we went on vacation for the first time in six years and our house sitter didn't water the plants that week.  We won't be making the same mistake this year.  No siree.  No vacations for us ever again.  The Greatest has declared this to be the year we finally harvest.

Then he put ME in charge of watering the plants.

I'll give you all a moment to stop laughing.

It would have been fast and easier to just burn the money.

I also had a moment this weekend when I realized all the souper seekrit knitting I was doing had allowed my house to descend into chaos.

So I cleaned.  And decorated for Easter.

I made six months worth of laundry detergent and washed what felt like six months worth of dirty clothes.  But since I can't do laundry without mentioning it on my blog, we all know it was only three weeks worth of socks and dirty underwear.

I made a bajillion freezer meals, which makes me very happy.  I love having home cooked meals ready to go in my freezer.  All the convenience of Stouffers, none of the preservatives.

Spring in in the air, which makes the animals all squirrely.  Boy dog decided to just let himself out the unlocked front door, and I got to chase him through the neighborhood in my house cleaning clothes (picture it: dirty hair, pajama pants, flip flops, and a t-shirt that says "honey badger don't care" complete with a picture of a honey badger.  Classy.  I'm so darn classy.)  Did I mention I had to do this twice in the same day?

Awesome.

And that was my weekend.

Glamorous isn't it.

Now that there is some semblance of order in my home, I must return to the dark side of knitting.  I must heed the siren song of souper seekrit knitting.  The kind of knitting that inevitably leads to a boring blog where I spend an entire post talking about my honey badger t-shirt.  But let not fear dwell in thine heart.  I must knit all the things before next week.

Why next week?

Next week is SPRING BREAK!

The children will descend like a horde of locust to eat all the things, fight over all the toys, and make everything sticky.  I can't wait!  I wonder what kind of mischief we can get into this year.  How many times can little children let the dog out the front door?  How many times can I yell at Meaty to stop messing with his sisters?  I see trips to the library and the park, a Mummy movie marathon, a Halo gaming day, hiking in the mountains, mani/pedis/facials and lots and lots of ice cream in my future.