Useful (to me) video

I've been doing a lot of crafty-type stuff this week, since I've been parked on the couch with a foot in the air.  Most of it was embroidery, but the day before yesterday I knitted a cowl. I'm about to make another one.

I don't knit in the round very much, mainly because most of the time the place where I joined the stitches looks ghastly. I've been using a method that I learned from "Knitting for Dummies," whereby you cast on one extra stitch, transfer the last cast-on stitch to the needle next to the first cast-on stitch, then knit them together. Most of the time it leaves a funky gap that I just can't get rid of. I always thought I'd make more socks if I ever found a better way to join things.

Guess what?  I just did.  I tried starting the cowl and was disgusted with the join. Since I had the lap top open (listening to Middlemarch some more) I decided to take my problem to Google.  Here's what I found:



So simple! And works so very well. I am very grateful to whoever this woman is.  There's nothing to keep me from making socks now except my own inertia.

As soon as I finish the second cowl I'll show you both.

Helloooo 2012!

So, how was everyone's December? Sorry I disappeared there, right after Thanksgiving. I got all involved in gift-shopping and wrapping stuff.  Then my colleague retired and we had a party for her. Then there was more gift-shopping, gift-wrapping, gift-sending (to Virginia and California), cookie-baking, and bam! It was Christmas.

That's "bam!" literally, by the way. I woke up Christmas morning in the dark with a leg cramp. Just walking to the kitchen to get ice to put on it made it go away. That should have been the warning that things were not going to go my way that day. Did I heed said warning? No, I did not. Later on that day, while sitting in my sister's basement rec room and still in my jammies, I took a mouthful of coffee and choked on it--sort of. I tried to swallow at exactly the same moment my body decided to cough. Turned myself into a coffee fountain.  It made a mess of my clothes, so I went upstairs to change and throw things into the washer, which is kept out in the garage.

The floor of the garage is lower than the floor of the rest of the house.  It's too steep for a regular step, so to mitigate this some previous owner (or maybe the builder) put in a little step between the door sill and the garage floor. I've been in this house a number of times before and never had trouble remembering it was there. This time I missed it completely and went "bam!" right down. Actually, I'm not sure if I missed it, slipped, or only caught half of the step. It all happened very fast. I was talking over my shoulder to my Mom, with one hand on the door, when down I went.  Pulled the door shut behind me with extreme violence, slammed into the metal cabinet that was to the right of me, screamed out, "Son of a b!tch!" (but apparently no one heard that over all the other noise) and then just sat there on the floor, stunned.

Mom came to see why I'd slammed the door so hard and found me sitting on the step I'd missed, rubbing my right ankle. I asked for ice, which she went and got while I sat there listening to the memory of my voice screaming "Son of a b!tch!" It started me giggling (every time I remember it, I giggle again. I did just now, writing that). This turned into full-blown hysterical laughter, complete with tears. I'm glad my default reaction is to laugh in situations like this. My mom came back with the ice, and we both sat there: me laughing and icing my ankle, she rubbing my back and (probably) wondering if I needed an X-ray. It was mentioned a few times, but I decided against it. My sister loaned me an Ace bandage (which I'm still wearing), and I spent the rest of the day either hobbling around or sitting somewhere with my foot in the air. The next day we went to New Jersey to have lunch with my Dad's brother and his family, then on the 27th we all went home.

Here's what the ankle looked like two days later:


Pretty, no? I think Crayola should make a crayon color called "Ouch, My Ankle!" (not pictured: other side of ankle, which looked pretty much the same as this)

Since then I've been (for the most part) hanging out on the couch with my foot in the air, either watching TV or listening to audiobooks while I embroider. Right now (well, not right now, obviously) I'm listening to Middlemarch, as read by Juliet Stevenson.  She's excellent. I did make a couple of excursions outdoors, mainly to get necessities (milk, coffee filters, lunch meat), or, once the ankle felt strong enough to use, to take myself to lunch on New Year's Eve.  I thought I'd better go out then, because the bus wouldn't be running on either the 1st or the 2nd of January and I really should see a person or two before holing up for a few days.  I was going to go out today as well, but they're calling for snow, with a wind chill of 0 or even -5, so I'm staying right here, thank-you-very-much. I might go to the mall tomorrow, mainly because I can (I'm off until next Monday) but also partly to buy calendars from the calendar-and-game kiosk that pops up every November and disappears by mid-January. I need two wall calendars. I never think to ask for them as Christmas presents.

So how was your December? And your New Year's Eve? Did anyone make any resolutions? I can't without breaking one a I made a long time ago never to make another new year's resolution. I have some things I'd like to do this year, but I'm not serious enough about them to be "resolved" to do them. I'd like to post more often than I have been. And I'd like this year to be "Handmade Christmas," since I kind of fizzled out last year around February. I ran out of ideas. I think I have a better handle on it now. We'll see.

At the post office

You know how I know this house isn't really clean?  Because I can't find anything.  I know I have envelopes and stamps, for example.  I've seen them.  Recently.  As in, a-few-days-before-Thanksgiving recently. They're probably upstairs now, in one of the two messy catch-all rooms that will someday (soonish, I hope) actually be a craft room and guest room in more than name only. 

Just about everything portable is upstairs in those rooms, because I didn't have time to put it somewhere permanent in the getting-ready-for-guests rush.  Since Friday was the first of the month, I needed both envelopes (for my owner's association dues) and stamps (for the dues and the mortgage payment).  I took one look at those rooms Friday morning, said, "Yeah, right," and decided to go buy more somewhere.

"Somewhere" turned out to be on campus.  I got envelopes at the student book store and stamps at the on-campus branch of the post office.

Mike the Mailman is a fixture on campus.  He's been here since before I was a freshman, back in 1986.  He loves his job, loves the school, loves students.  The guy in front of me in line follows him on Facebook, which is how he knew it was Mike's birthday.  Mike joked that he looked pretty good for forty, huh?  I took up that part of the conversation when I got to the counter.

"So, Happy Birthday! Did I hear you say you were forty? Forty-and-holding?  Me too."

"Oh," he said confidentially, "I haven't seen forty in a very long time.  So what can I do for you?"

"I need stamps."

He scooped up and spread out a bunch of different books.

"They don't have to be pretty.  It's just for the mortgage."

"Okay," he laughed, and pulled out some more.

"Actually, you know what?  I think I'll go with Madonna and Child. Might as well be festive, huh?"

"Yeah, those are nice." He handed me back my change and wished me a good afternoon. I stood a little to the left to get the stamps on the envelopes, headed for the letter-box near the exit.

"Hey!" He called after me. He was holding up his hand-made "You're next!" sign to the next person in line. "Thanks for paying your mortgage!"

"Um. You're welcome?"

It wouldn't occur to me not to.

Done!

Woohoo! Made it to the end of November!

I know this whole NaBloPoMo thing is about quantity, not quality, and all I can say is that it's a very good thing the posts don't have to be both numerous and interesting.  I need to find some sort of middle ground between posting everyday about nothing in particular and posting maybe twice a month about...nothing in particular. Hmm.

I used to do more interesting things. I wonder what happened?

I know what happened.  I bought a house.  Unlike the dark, dank, moldy hole-in-the-wall where I used to reside, I actually like living here. This means I don't flee from home into the world to go do something, anything, so long as it keeps from that depressing little glorified dorm room.  Good for me, bad for the blog.

I guess I need to go do more stuff, huh?  I was thinking of taking an art class at the Arts Center on campus next semester, if I can find something interesting to do.  I'd like to learn to make mosaics, or maybe play around with stained glass.  I took a drawing class from them a while back and surprised myself when I found out that yes, I really can draw.  Remember this? I learned to do that at the Arts Center.  They don't offer the mosaics class very often, though.  I think the stained glass class shows up every semester.  I guess not many people are interested in tiles.  I'll have to see what next semester's course guide looks like.  They probably won't publish it until the end of December.

One thing I won't be doing is going back to the Embroiderer's Guild.  Those ladies are whack-a-doodle.  Well.  Not all of them.  Just the charter members.  The newer, younger ones are great.  But the older ones run things, and they're the people that give me agita (and call me fat. In a roundabout way. Ahem).

What I probably should do is take a look at my life list and start working on some things from it.

Actually, what I really should do is make a shopping list for Christmas and get my hindquarters in gear.  I have to send stuff to California and Virginia, and soon.

This year was supposed to be Handmade Christmas, but that fell apart somewhere around March, when I couldn't figure out what to make for everyone.  Perhaps while I'm making the shopping list for this year, I should make the project list for next year.

Well, whatever I'm gonna do, first I'm gonna hit the "Publish Post" button, and then I'm gonna get back to my embroidery.  Buh-bye, National Blog Posting Month 2011.  Don't let the door hit your bum on your way out.

Decorating for Christmas

I wonder if this is the year I will finally break down and get a tree.  Every year I think about doing it, and every year I balance the expense of buying an artificial tree against the cost of the presents I want to buy, and the tree idea gets scrapped for another year.

This year, however, I got a little something back from the mortgage company--interest from the escrow account that I guess they're not allowed to hang on to.  It isn't much, a little over $70, but it might make a tree look not-that-expensive.

Hmm.

It'd be nice to finally have something upon which to hang all these ornaments I've amassed over the years.  It doesn't have to be some huge monster of a tree--maybe something about four or five feet tall?  I'll take a look when I go out shopping, see if I can find something that won't break the bank.

Of course, I could use that extra money on presents...

Lazy Monday

When I scheduled this day off originally, it was with the intent of going Christmas shopping. I've decided to spend the day on the couch instead, embroidering and listening to the laptop read me The Fountainhead, which I am thoroughly enjoying.

Weird weather we're having for November. I'm pretty sure the landscaper our owner's association contracts with didn't expect to still be mowing the grass this close to December.  They're out there doing it right now, though.  And since I finally managed to clear out my flower beds, they can finally get at a bit of grass that needs cutting but has been blocked by my top-heavy, blown (or fallen) down cosmos.  The landscapers are very scrupulous about not touching something that looks like it was planted intentionally, which I appreciate.

I hear some child or other screaming in the distance. It's hard to tell whether that's anger, pain, or just over-excitement until you hear another child shout back. All three noises sound the same to me. But then, maybe if I were someone's mother I'd be able to tell the difference.

Well, back to the embroidery. Maybe I'll be able to finish it in time to frame it and give it away as a Christmas present.  If not this year, then next one for sure.

'Nip

I found one of Delilah's old catnip toys and decided to see what would happen if I gave it to Sophie.  Lolly wasn't terribly active on 'nip.  She'd rub her face all over it, then go take a nap.  Sophie?  She  bats it across the room, rolls around on the floor with it, bites it, rabbit kicks it, grabs it with her paws and rubs her face all over it, then goes to take a nap.

Ah, drugging the cat. Wonderful Sunday pastime.

Just me and the cat again

My sister and her dog Daisy just left here a little while ago.  My brother-in-law and his folks left yesterday morning after breakfast (which was had at Perkins, down the street from the hotel where they stayed). Mom, Ditter, and I went to a little yarn and quilting shop the next town over, ostensibly because Mom needed a particularly large size of double-pointed needle, but mainly to drool over, maul, and eventually buy yummy, fancy-schmancy yarn.  Mom and Dad and Pip left when we got back from that little trip.

Ditter and I hung out on the couch, she knitting, me petting the dog and/or the cat (whoever demanded attention at the time), watching movies (In Her Shoes, The Family Stone, 27 Dresses), and eventually ordering a pizza.  Yes.  All this food in the house, and we ordered in.  What?  She offered.  I couldn't remember the last time I'd had pizza.  Did you know that the big chains have online ordering?  All you need is a computer and a credit card and bam! Pizza.  This is probably news to no one but me.

I only made it partway through 27 Dresses before I succumbed to a wave of tired, tired, tired and went to bed.  It was maybe 9 o'clock.  Lame-o.  I spent most of yesterday in a dazed stupor, like someone had whacked me over the head.  Come to think of it, that may be why I leaped at the offer of a pizza.  I'm pretty sure if I'd tried to cook I would have set the house on fire.

Today?  Feeling much better.  That determination to keep the house clean(ish) is still with me.  Let's see if it lasts.  Time to start acting like a damn grown-up.  Right?  Right.  First order of business: dishes.  Dishwasher needs unloading and reloading.

I'm having trouble believing it's only Saturday.  It feels like Sunday.  And I have Monday off, which is the day I plan to start my Christmas shopping.

Well, anyway.  Time to go clean up.

Next year's target

Next year's goal: to have the place clean before my parents get here, so my mother doesn't have to help me clean before the rest of the guests arrive. I'm forty(mumble) years old.  Why do I still approach the idea of housework like a sullen thirteen-year-old?  I'm ashamed of myself.

Which is part of the problem, I think.  Part of the reason the house is usually so messy is because I am so messy.  Part is because I am lazy.  And part is because I'm comfortable living with disorder.  Then when Thanksgiving appears on the horizon, I see the place through other peoples' eyes and am horrified.  That's when I panic, but not the kind that makes one go "move! move! move!" It's the deer-in-the-headlights, stare at the problem and wonder what to do kind of panic.  I don't get spurred into action until a day or so before people turn up.  And, since my folks arrive first, that means Mom winds up helping me clean.

I can't let that happen again next year.  Her hands hurt her.  I forgot about that.  It's a relatively new problem, so I can maybe kinda sorta almost be forgiven for forgetting.  She wears these blue elastic (?) braces for support with some tasks.  She said she should wear them more often, but she doesn't want to call attention to herself.  

Anyway.  The cooking part of Thanksgiving went fine.  I just need to do better on the cleaning front.  A whole lot better.  Like, next year my folks will come in and not have to do anything but put their feet up, that kind of better.  That's the goal.

Also?  The public areas of the place look great, but there are two rooms that are complete chaos.  That's where I dumped all the stuff I didn't know what to do with.  I have no idea where anything is any more.  Christmas vacation (well, the bit between Christmas and New Year's Eve, I guess) is going to be spent unloading and sorting out the "craft room," aka lumber room #1.  Then I'll work on the little lilac room in the back (aka lumber room #2).  If I do that, then hopefully by next Thanksgiving everything will have a place to live.

Happy Thanksgiving

I was up around 4 or so. The combination of that, the turkey, the wine...I'm tired, y'all. I'm headed to bed. See you tomorrow.

The parents are coming! The parents are coming!

Just got the call (that I asked for last night) telling me that my parents have left the house and headed my direction.  They expect to be here by 1 pm--they have to gas up the car, run some errands (like, "throw some books at the library," according to my mother.  I suggested she slow down and make sure they catch them all), and then they'll be on their southeastward.

What am I doing sitting here blogging? I have bathrooms to clean, a bedroom to tidy, a bed to make, all sorts of junk to clear, iced tea to brew (because I just realized that even though I bought stuff for lunch, the only thing I have to drink in the house is tap water.  I don't go in for other beverages much when I'm alone.  Except coffee in the morning, out of necessity), laundry to do, floors to sweep and some floors to wash!  Gaah!

Bye.

Oh, hey, one more thing.  At some point this week I hit 500 posts.  I'm not exactly sure when, because there are a couple of drafts lurking around, and Blogger counts every entry, not just the ones you post. Anyway, yay, 500!

Internal monologue at the grocery check-out

Oh, crap.  She's a chatty one.  She's taking forever with these people.  And of course they're chatting back.  Well, maybe they're the ones who initiated it.  They've spoken to me every time we passed each other in the aisles....and they just noticed I'm behind them in line.

"Ah, we meet again!"

[I nod and smile]

Yes indeed we do. And for the last time.

"Are people coming to you for Thanksgiving?"  Please don't talk to me.  Please just grab you stuff and go. Please?

"Yes.  Dinner for seven. And two dogs, but I don't know whether they'll get table scraps or dog food. Depends on their owners."

Why am I encouraging them?  Tick-tock, people.  I have a bus to catch. Oh, Hallelujah, they're leaving.

"Happy Thanksgiving!"

"You too." [I wave.]

Nope, it wasn't just them.  She's chatty.  And she keeps calling me "my dear." What is that about? Do I know her? I don't think I do. I just wish she'd stop asking so many questions of me: What am I doing with the rest of the day? Do I have people coming for Thanksgiving?

Look, I understand it's a boring job, and that standing there silently while things go "beep" maybe feels awkward.  But please, if you can't talk and move at the same time, don't try it.  Don't scan something, ask me a question, and then pause while I answer it.  No, please, don't open my egg carton to make sure they are all unbroken. Hello?  Do you think I'd put them in my cart without checking? I know you think this is customer service, but you're slowing me down, here.

Aaaand there goes the bus, right by the front window.  Dammit.

Sigh. All right, lady, talk to me.  I have a forty-minute wait in my immediate future, I might as well spend as little of it as possible in the rain.

Forging ahead

There's a woman at work whose family owns a farm.  Every year she takes orders for sausage and scrapple right before pig butchering time.  I keep thinking about buying some, and this year I finally remembered to do it.

Today was pick-up day--I had to go in to work to get it.  I now have 3 lbs of loose sausage and a 3 lb package of scrapple.  The sausage is getting used for a cornbread and sausage stuffing.  Which reminds me.  I need to take the turkey out of the freezer tomorrow and put it into the fridge.  It's a big 'un this year, so I think it needs more time to thaw.  I wonder if I should make the cornbread tomorrow, too, so that it's nice and old, ready to be made into stuffing on Thursday.

All right.  Off to bed.  More work tomorrow.

No picture today

Well, this was supposed to be another snapshot Sunday, but I can find neither the data card nor the USB attachment that lets me download pics from the card to the laptop.  Tried to use the camera on my cell, but the battery has died.  And then the picture I was going to take (of the cat being all cute and wide-eyed, chasing something I can't see) fell apart, and another opportunity hasn't presented itself.

Ah, well.  Maybe there'll be a snapshot Monday instead.  Plugging in the phone now and going to bed.  It's been a semi-productive weekend.  I got a few things accomplished, but not as much as I intended.  Of course.  Have to do better tomorrow.

'Night y'all.

All we need are a few tumbleweeds

Man, this town is empty.  I like it.  It's nice to be able to buy a trash can at Wal-Mart and schlepp it home on the bus without worrying that you're taking up too much room.

Took myself to lunch at Eat 'n Park, which I haven't been to in forever (apparently, because I didn't recognize a single thing on the menu), and there were only three tables in use.  Wow.  That place is normally hopping.

Today was "get supplies" day. Tomorrow we straighten.  The goal this year is to be done before my parents get here on Wednesday.  We'll see how that goes.  I tend to dither and procrastinate, and then I run around like a maniac cursing my propensity to dither and procrastinate.  It appears to need a deadline breathing down my neck to get stuff done.

Wish me luck! And now I'm going to bed.

Out after dark.

The students have left town for Thanksgiving break.  This means that for the next 10 days or so the townsfolk will be able to go places they can't normally get into without long lines or waiting to be seated.  Taking advantage of this fact, a group of local folks with whom I have made friends over Twitter decided to gather at a downtown Mexican restaurant for happies at about 5:30 or so.

Things were in full swing when I got there.  Some people I already knew, some I'd only spoken to online, some I've never seen before in my life. One person I talked to is going to be running in a marathon in Philly on Sunday, in the freezing cold.  I finally got to meet face-to-face with the meteorologist I've been tweeting back and forth with for months.  He's the husband of someone else I follow, and together they own three cats and two rescued greyhounds.  Someone else showed me pictures from her trip to Rhinebeck with some other folks we both know, and recommended that if I want to go to a knitting convention, Maryland Sheep and Wool is more organized.  Rhinebeck is where all the celebrity knitters show up, though.

God bless Tim, our server.  Every time he came to the table (which was often) it was larger and composed of more people.  We kept co-opting other tables in the area.  He managed to keep us all straight in his head, and things were still going strong when I left around quarter to 8.  I sure hope everyone gave him a good tip.  I sure did.

There was talk of going to another bar and watching some local blues band perform, but I begged off.  I needed to come home and draw up my battle plan for the time I have left until Thanksgiving.

Never mind that when I did come home all I did was play Plants vs. Zombies.  I was strategizing as I was planting puffshrooms and spud mines (or whatever they're called).  Sure I was. Can't prove that I wasn't. I'll write it all out on paper tomorrow.

Hey, guess what! We're creeping up on my 500th post!

They're still here

Well, it's been fairly quiet around here all week.  There are still news vans all over town, and little tents pitched for "on the scene" correspondents making their reports back to their stations.  What they're reporting on, I have no idea.

As far as I can tell nothing has happened of note since Saturday, when both football teams, their coaching staffs, and tons of alumni players gathered in the middle of the field to pray before the game.  Fans after the game were subdued, thank goodness.  Apparently our students are aware now that the world is watching and are behaving with a little more decorum. I'm sure the media are disappointed no one's acting up over here.

Is it wrong to wish that a scandal breaks somewhere else soon so that these vultures will go away?

Not even close

Who's Susan?, a photo by JugglingScarves on Flickr.

I have an email account on AOL that I haven't used in forever. I check it from time to time because sometimes my family forgets my current email address and sends things to this one.  And it's also an address I've used to give to companies who won't let you do something like get a member card without giving them an email address (I'm looking at you Panera. You too, Eddie Bauer).  I should probably just close it. It does afford me some amusement sometimes, though.

For instance: whenever I check the account I make sure to look at the spam folder, in case a piece of "real" mail accidentally got filtered into it.  Somewhere along the line some spammy genius decided that a potential target might be tempted to open the message if their name was in the subject line. Problem: the name they're using to reel me in? Susan.  Not mine. It's like cold calling someone to sell them a newspaper subscription or solicit a donation and mangling their name beyond all recognition.

Who the heck is Susan?

Not to mention the fridge still needs cleaning

So much for this evening.  I dozed off tonight in front of the TV and just woke up. Whoopsie! And, being sleepy, I really can't think of anything to write.  I have just enough energy left in me to drag myself upstairs to bed. See you tomorrow.

One more thing checked off

Booked the room for my sister's in-laws to stay in when they visit for Thanksgiving.  I tried to make a reservation using the website for the place, but there was nowhere to request a particular type of room, so I wound up having to call them.  Mrs. S. needs a downstairs room.  She has trouble with stairs.

My sister has said something about staying behind an extra day after everyone left, just so we could spend some time together.  I wonder if she's still going to do that.  That would mean travelling in a separate car.  Unless she's taking a bus back, which I can't imagine she'd want to do.  I hope she doesn't change her mind.  We haven't seen each other since...geez.  Easter?

Tomorrow is National "Clean Out Your Refrigerator" Day.  Well, all right.  Something I need to do anyway.