Anyone besides me LOVE the Holiday edition of Interweave Knits? Who knows, it could be the talk of the knitting blogworld or conversely, the bane of its existence. Perhaps even just a tiny speck of plankton in a sea of competing knitting books and magazines. I have no idea. My life is in the midst of a complete transformation. 6 months ago, I was Stay-at-Home-Mom-Lady with a part time job and time to knit and chat, tote the kids around, help with homework, avoid housework and stay busy, even get stressed out because I would take on too many commitments. Now I am Single-Mom-Lady with no time to spare, precious few hours to spend with the kids, make dinner, unwind and do a few chores before falling in to bed, exhausted. So I don't get to see what is happening much in the blog world these days.

In any case, I love this magazine. I am planning to make a gazillion little felted pears as Christmas gifts. And about the same number of little sachet hearts from my leftover sock yarn. There is not one single pattern in there that I hate. And that's saying a lot. Usually there is at least three or four stinkers. At least. In this issue, the worst I can find is an "eh." That is really saying a lot.

I suppose I should be shifting into full holiday knitting and shopping gear. It's going to be an interesting Christmas.

Simple Pleasures Are The Best...

"...All the little things that make you smile and glow. All the things you know. Life's simple pleasures are the best, are the best, in all the world." Who remembers that commercial? What was it advertising? OK, that is sad and wrong. I can hear the schlocky commercial jingle so clearly in my head but can't remember the product it was advertising.

Anyway, I had a response all ready to post to my comments. This is what it said: Yay! Comments! You guys make my day! You're the money in the newspaper machine! You're the run of green lights when I am late for work! You are the clean flannel sheets on the bed after a hot bath! Simple pleasures rule!

What are your simple pleasures? How about money in the dryer? Or opening a fresh box of See's candy and getting to pick the first one? Here's another one: getting that popcorn husk out of the back of your teeth. Oooh, or what about casting on for a new project?

Let's hear 'em!

Knitting Knews

I have a few fo's but can't show them to you due to broken camera. OK, OK I hear you. You're saying "Go. Take that camera in." (OK, maybe you're saying it without that dangling preposition, but I know what you mean. And you know what I mean.) I hereby promise to get in to Sears ASAP to see about that warranty with the camera. There. The camera is now in my purse, ready to stop off at Sears at a moment's notice.

I made a hat for Emi out of fun color-changing yarn. I never save the labels. And then I made one for Kai, but it came out too girly looking. Interestingly, it did not look girly on Kevin, so he took it. Then I cranked out another one for Kai and it came out very nice. I had all this Microspun laying around, so I bought some Babysoft on sale at Michael's for $2.50 a skein and started one of these in the blue shade. Last, but certainly not least, I have begun to knit myself a little phone case for my adorable phone. With pocket, for the bluetooth. It is fair isle and will be felted. I'm using Cascade Pastaza from the stash. Oh -- and I finished Figgy's blanket. As you can see, I have really bad knitting ADD. There will be pics coming, I promise. Unless of course, I am out of luck with the camera.

I have been really busy, so I am hoping to be able to keep up with my blog. There is a Christmas play with the kids at church and I have agreed to help. I am sort of in charge of "set design" but I can see the writing on the wall. Let's just say that I am prepared to be wearing many hats. Actually, it's kind of fun. You get all sleep deprived and sort of live at the church. Different people drift in and out and help and you brainstorm and you plan and draw and paint and eat lots of Taco Bell and think until your brain hurt. You pray constantly and especially when nerves get frazzled or some disaster is narrowly missed. You get really close to people, their kids become like your kids and though the stress level can get high, it can also be really exhilirating and exciting and fun. So I'm gearing up.

I am really kind of enjoying work too. Even though there is an extremely high level of disfunctionality going on there. Here's an example: there are like, 20 guys there and about 6 women and the bathrooms are shared. OK, I don't mean co-ed like several stalls or anything. There are two bathrooms, one on each end of the trailer. (Sigh. Yes, I work in a trailer. And yes, it is as ghetto as it sounds.) Each of them have one toilet but on the door is one of those men/women symbols. That is just wrong. Anyway, in spite of the many annoyances like the bathroom issue, the ghetto-ness of the work space, the fact that there is a high level of testosterone and at times you hear things you'd really rather not, kind of like having your cubicle located in a men's locker room. Despite all that, I am really kind of enjoying work. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I just kind of like it. The work can be difficult, dealing with difficult people, but we keep it light and laugh and get outraged at the manipulations that people try to pull and we get in spirited arguments, but in a fun way and well, it's just FUN! So that's a good thing. One day I would love to write a sit-com about that place. It is just so rich with characters. I really want to tell you about them. But it'll have to wait.

RIP, Yoda

 
That's the family pet goldfish Yoda, back when he was a spry young thing. Emi is posing next to him for scale. That picture was taken over a year ago, Emi is much bigger now. Yoda grew some too, but towards the end, he got this big sore on his head that just kept growing. It was disgusting, really. Can you see how big he is? I have never seen a goldfish that got that big. It was hard to take a picture of him because he was always in motion. He started out as a run-of-the-mill fantail that my dad got for his office. When he retired several years ago, he gave the fish to my son. He just kept growing and growing until soon he was the size of a large russet potato. Toward the end, he was about the size of one of those small kid's footballs, with a large (bigger than his body) tail fanning out.

Anyway, he stopped eating and died a long, slow death. It was horrible. The thing is, you can't flush something that big. And I am too much of a wuss to hit him on the head and end it all. Man, pets are tough, let me tell you.

We are down to virtually no pets now, which suits me now that I am a single, working mom. Skoshi, the family dog passed a year ago last September. I gave Lucy the parakeet to my niece, who originally gave her to us. Rosie's birds had babies a couple of years ago. Poor Lucy was such a lively bird, but when I went back to work, she was just so sad and neglected. So she went back to live with them. They have a cockatiel and another parakeet and I hear Lucy is very content there.

The last to go was poor Yoda, the nearly indestructible fish. I saved him from the brink of death several times, once feeding him with a turkey baster for several weeks. His body was contorted into an almost 90 degree angle and I thought he was a done for, or at least disabled for the rest of his fish-life. The first time it happened, it was very traumatic. Kai cried for days, we prayed over him and, miraculously, like Lazarus rising from the dead, Yoda was completely restored back to health after 2 months of laying on the bottom of the tank, panting and looking like a goner. This happened a couple more times in the course of his fish-life, due to a tank that didn't get the water changed frequently enough. The subsequent times were nowhere near as miraculous or dramatic as the first.

Now we are left with a kind of semi-pet. The semi-feral Fig, aka Figgy, Figlet, Figgy-momma, Figgy-pudding. She mostly lives outside but craves a good rub anywhere from 8:00 to 11:00 pm. She has become so spoiled that she yowls and scratches at the door to be let in. She is rather coy, wanting to come in my lap, but on her terms. She will jump down and run out the door if I pick her up and put her there too soon. I have to begin by petting her on the floor. Eventually, she ends up like a pile of jello on the floor, but it is usually difficult to reach her there. Once she is jello-ish, I can pick her up and put her on my lap, where she will play and snuggle, sometimes for five minutes, sometimes for an hour. Then she just saunters over to the door and waits to be let out. If I don't respond immediately, she is reaching up to the doorknob and scratching.

Her brother Tommy, disappeared around a month or more ago. I hate to think what may have happened to him and keep hoping he'll show up again as mysteriously as he disappeared. Unbeknownst to me, he must have been eating her food because Figgy is fattening up and looks different from the earlier pictures I have of her. It's weird to see her gaining weight because I've noticed the base of her tail is getting thicker. It's not like it's fat or anything, but it is getting wider and thicker. What a strange place to gain weight. Maybe it's like us women with our butts and thighs.

One of these days I'll tell you about Skoshi, the wonder-dog. But he is a whole post in itself. Anyway, RIP Yoda, Skoshi and even possibly Tommy. You made our lives richer and you'll always live on in our family folklore.