All That Glitters

Is probably my knitting

As a rule, I try to avoid glittery yarn and all it's....glittery-ness.  Nothing says "I bought this at (Insert Your Favorite Heartland Retail Giant) for four bucks" much more than shiny, knit-but-also-glittery clothing.

I give this a pass because it's not clothing.  Or at least not for me.

Tree Skirt, in the "new" Christmas colors...

True to form, I am not quite done making this item--hopefully before there is a tree, there will be a skirt.  My children should expect no hot meals before this is finished.  The yarn is from Herrschners, and I believe they started selling this a year ago (maybe two) but they were sold out every time I looked until October of this year, so, I grabbed a bag of it and began, as soon as I was able. 

Since these are the "new" Christmas colors and most of my tree started showing this color scheme last year (in the ornaments and ribbon), the fact that I am hand knitting something to go with this trend is a sure indicator that by this time next year I'll be sick of it and ready to switch to something else.  Sometime around next Thanksgiving, I'll be reminded of my distaste for fuchsia, will re-visit Herrschners and will be advised that the NEW "New" Colors are all sold out.

*sigh*.

Until then--"Oooo-aaaaah!  How delightfully trendy!"

Chock-Full of Random-y Goodness

• Got an email from the Science Museum of Minnesota, announcing the on-sale for the exhibition of the greatest of all rock and rollers, King Tut, and now, of course, all I can think of is how he "gave his life for tourism", because that's just how funny Steve Martin is.
• Got another email announcing a "Live Mohair Competition".  Of course I opened it.  Who wouldn't?  I mean, knitting?  Live?  Yeah, baby!  Much more exciting than some dead guy.  (Was that sarcastic?  Because that was supposed to be sarcastic.  Any word on that sarcasm font?  Anyone?  Anyone?)
• Interesting to note that the dead guy is still touring and he's coming to my town, but, you have to buy a plane ticket to see the knitting.  Oh, Vogue.  I love you so much....You're almost the only entity in the world who can get away with telling me what to do.
• I went to parent/teacher conferences last night, and one of my 10th grader's teachers suggested that I might be her sister.  It was, far and away, the lamest thing I'd ever heard in my life.  Of course I lapped it up like a dehydrated beagle.  Similarly, a person at my office, who is 30 years old, figured that I must be about 8 years older than her.  Yeah.  Needless to say, I made no effort to correct her.
• I conned my boss into giving us a "Casual Week" because....well, just for the hell of it, really.  So here we all are in our jeans and slippers (shut up) and wouldn't you just know that every other department on our floor chose this week to step it up and wear heels and skirts and suits?  GAH!  I hate you guys!  Where were all the sloppy, schleppy clothes you all had on last week?
• Noted:  Writing blog posts does NOTHING to prevent one from succumbing to the effects of the freezing cold office, where the air temp isn't high enough to thaw a Thanksgiving bird.  Time to switch back to the excitement of live knitting...

Warning!

Just thought I would warn everyone that I'm cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year.  So you might be seeing random "OMG, I totally ruined the _____" type comments from time to time, on Twitter, FB, etc.

I haven't cooked a Thanksgiving dinner since 2007.  That seems like a whole different lifetime.  Hell, it WAS a whole different lifetime.  I had a house full of people to cook for back then.

This year?  Just me and the one other meat-eater, plus one vegetarian.  A total of three, two of whom like to slather everything in gravy, and one of whom still doesn't like her food to "touch".

I know it doesn't seem worth it to even cook a huge thing, but damn-it!  I want to.  Sure, one of the turkeys will have been constructed entirely from textured vegetable protein, but I'm doing it anyway. (for the record, the Tofurkey is not shaped like a turkey--really more of a turkey roast look.  If it was actually shaped like a turkey, I would have refused, cuz that's just lame.)

It'll be a scaled back, cooked because I felt like cooking, hey-who-cares sort of dinner.  No worries that my potatoes aren't the right kind, or that we skipped the green-bean casserole (none of us like it) or that at pie time, the pieces will be un-naturally huge and covered with more whipped cream than a person needs to consume in an entire year.  So what?  We're talking about the basic "food is love" sort of Lost Weekend of face-stuffing.  It'll be a reminder of all that we have, and of all that we are capable of accomplishing.  Just the kind of celebration I need right now.  Yum!

On Second Thought

I think I WILL be discussing that entire week that was lost to "30 Rock".


I don't watch TV like a normal person.  I mean, I do, and yet, I cringe when people say they have to rush home because their show is on and they don't want to miss any of it.  Yes, it still occurs, even in this age of DVR, people still leave my presence, using only a television program as an excuse.

Wait a minute....maybe that's just those people's excuse?  Maybe they are trying to be nice and don't want to tell me the REAL reason they are leaving?????  GAH!

I had to go there, didn't I?  Had to go there...

I have very few "musts" associated with a television schedule, though there are television "dates" with my daughter--is that the same thing?

Anyway, once upon a time, on a boring Saturday morning, I was all alone, flipping around on the TV, looking for something to watch, and it was early enough in the day that there was nothing on except infomercials, so I got out the crack pipe  **cough** I mean, went to my Netflix on demand--same difference, and saw the much-recommended 30 Rock sitting there all lonely-like.  I clicked "Play Now" and lost several days of my life, just like that.

Around the following Thursday, I had completed watching every single episode all of the first four seasons of that show....and little else.  I prepared my food in the kitchen, but returned to the front of the TV before eating it.  I did my writing with the laptop on my lap and the Wii remote lying to my immediate left.  I showered and made myself presentable when I absolutely had to leave the house, but most of all, I just watched TV, in my jammies.  I watched TV late into the night.  I watched TV early in the morning.  I stuffed my face with as much of it as I could, until all of it was gone.

I awoke from my comedy daze, hungry for more, but still not willing to tune in to the show at it's regular time on Thursdays because, uh, that would be entirely too normal, watching it one episode at a time.

I did that exact thing with The Tudors, except the 3rd and 4th seasons of that spectacular show were only on DVD and people, I suffered, OK?  Suffered.  DVD?  Like....you have to wait for it to come in the mail?  GAH!

(P.S.: Dear Producers of The Tudors.  I'm sure you tried very hard to make Jonathan Rhys Meyers look fat and blobby like the Henry VIII of legend, but the dude's a stone fox, and a skinny one, at that.  So you failed.  Not that I mind.  At all.)

Anyway...That's how I watch TV when I watch it.  In massive doses.  I'm a huge TV pig.  I want it all, and I want it right now. 

It's much the same with chocolate and me, as you can well imagine.

Season 5 of Dr. Who?  Watched it.  All of it.  All at once.  Then I went back and rewatched all the previous seasons, too.  Ah, Rose Tyler, we hardly knew ya.  Oh, and I watched every episode of Torchwood over again, too.


The reason I am bringing this up now is because I'm all caught up on 30 Rock, and have only the last disc of The Tudors left before I have watched all there is to see of that.  So...the king is about to die and I have no suitable television heir.  Which means I might, for a time, watch TV like a normal person, adhering to something resembling a schedule. 

It's entirely possible that I might go to sleep sometime before midnight so that 5:30AM alarm clock jangle will be less dreadful when it goes.

Waking well rested, I'll be cheerful and less rushed in the mornings.  Shut up, it could happen.

I may even sit at the table to dine.  Wouldn't that be something?

The cats will be so confused.

Wait, Wait....Didn't You Used To Be....

How does one go from constant blogging to just occasionally checking in?  Follow my lead:

 

1. Get Busy.  I know, I know....plunking down in front of a television may not seem like "busy", but I swear it is.  Really.  Not only is it important for me to spend evenings burning through the final season of The Tudors on DVD (and no, we will not be discussing the entire week lost to "30 Rock") but I have a lot of knitting commitments and sure it seems like leisure, but....I call "busy".  And I will provide some variety of photographic evidence in the near future.  And for the record?  That's one effing great TV show.
2. Yawn.  I can almost say that there is nothing happening except knitting and television.  Oh, yes, there is driving back and forth and going to work and eating and sleeping, but....yawn.  Boring!
3. There is no Three.
4. What?  You thought that even though there was no Three, that there would be a Four?  What the hell's the matter with you?

One day soon, my darlings....one day soon.

OH! By The Way...

I just ordered this.

Here's a picture so you can see how freaking cute it is and how I couldn't have possibly resisted.

I know, right? ;-)

Duty

A lady who works in my office has what I call the Classic Midwestern Wife/Mom Duty Gene.

 

Sometimes, you don't recognize it in a person right away.  Sometimes, you have to close in on a holiday before it becomes evident.  Case in point:  Today, the topic of her Resigned to Duty monologue was Thanksgiving.

 

She described "her" upcoming Thanksgiving, indicating that (of course) she would be hosting and not only did she have to do all the cooking, but also, she has a dog and several of the family members attending also have dogs and (of course) everyone would be bringing their dogs along for the visit, thus creating a situation in which there would be SIX dogs on hand for that 4th Thursday, and What A Time that will be!

 

Please note, Duty makes no effort to tell people to leave their dogs at home, or hell, even contribute to the food in any way.  Duty only sighs and says, "It's going to be a madhouse, but somehow I will manage to not only cook a four course meal for 30 people, but also maintain order in a house full of large, furry creatures who are trying to simultaneously eat off of everyone's plates and smell each other's butts."

 

Any time I think myself a martyr (which is often, I might add), I need only consider those Duty-Bound wives and mothers.  Are they better wives or mothers because they take all of this upon themselves and heap on the "duties" while accepting or soliciting no help from anyone? 

 

I think that's open for debate. 

 

Look at it this way--if they didn't get something out of it, they wouldn't do it.  Of course they want to make all the food!  Why?  So that all compliments about food will be directed at them and not at someone else! 

 

 

Anyway...I'm thinking restaurant for Thanksgiving this year--does that make me a bad person? 

 

 

I bet people who own restaurants think I'm awesome...