Mac says

My days of struggling with Vista are over.  And none too soon.  (See high velocity trajectory of PC through glass window.)

I love this little guy.  (Wouldn’t Mac be a male?)  He’s fast and efficient and knows exactly what I’m telling him to do.  

There will be no comment on the Macbook user who could not figure out how to right click on a Mac for nearly two weeks, however.  (Please note I did figure it out, eventually.)

And the software.  Yum.  I got this totally free software called FreeMind that is stunning in that it maps out your thoughts in outline/bubble form. So it seems as though I make sense…at least on paper.  

(If I had the skills to show you a screenshot, I would.)  Maybe this will do, instead.  

Note that I have all the skills necessary to show you this utterly useless wonder. 

 

The garden is OUT OF CONTROL.

I need to find some stakes today, and get those tomato plants standing up, before they rot.  

The herbs are going wild, too.  

I’ve been spinning my favorite color of green.

 

And knitting a new Clapotis in Noro Silk Garden Lite.  

Quite inadvertently, the stitch markers match the yarn.

I am now a Reiki II practitioner, which is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.  The class was held last weekend — Friday evening, all day Saturday, and all day Sunday.  Reiki is something I can use both at work, and at home.  

Work.  Yeah.  Still the same.  The agency, and more specifically, the hospice, is undergoing multiple management changes all at once, so it’s not an especially peaceful time.  But this too shall pass.

The boyfriend is all moved in.  Things are going well.  We generally get along quite well. Sometimes he reminds me of my grandfather, though.  My grandpa used to yell from the living room, “Helen?  Where are you?” like he was some sort of lost lamb without her sitting next to him. The boyfriend does this, too.  This generally drives me insane, until I remember my grandfather, and then it seems like this is the natural order of things.  So I go with the flow.

In terms of animals, things are much the same.  Harrison P. Cat, Little Man, and That Goddamned Cat (synonyms for the same creature) is fine.  He is involved in the same activities as always.  

We had a couple of visitors a few weeks ago.  Both times we are woken up by soft flapping of leathery wings and the muffled ‘thump’ of body hitting wall, presumably while their radar system failed them.

They were both escorted outside peacefully.  But not before at least one photograph was taken.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Liana’s green drink and why I like green

Green. The word says Life. Spring. New. Grass. Buds. Flowers. Trees.

And kale.

Big, leafy, cheap, and so-nutritious-it’s-almost-illegal, kale.

My daughter (the above mentioned Liana) has been extolling the virtues of kale for some weeks now. Evidently a college friend has turned her onto making smoothies out of vegetables.

I know. YUCK.

But get this. It’s not that bad. It’s actually good. And if you check out this nutritional calculation website, maybe you’d like to try it, too.

Liana’s Green Drink

Take one handful of kale leaves

Take another handful of spinach leaves

Wash them. Put them in the blender.

Add some water (I cheat. I add Arizona Diet Green tea. It’s really, really good.)

Whirl around.

Throw in 1/2 of an apple, skin and all. Seeds if you don’t mind them.

Ditto with 1/2 a pear, or whatever you’d like.

(I added 1/4 of an avocado here, too).

Throw in some flax seed. And some oat bran.

Toss in 3 ice cubes.

Blend. Blend. Blend. Until you get this thick green thing substance that smells like the stuff you wipe off the bottom of the lawn mower.

Then drink it. And feel good. Because there’s your vegetables/fruits for the day. That’s it. You’re done!

The drink and the girl –

Other reasons I like green

Gardening.

Yup. We even put up Tiki lights on the patio.

Cool, huh?

Knitting is socks. STR, Tlinkit, Waving lace pattern. Just ready to start the heel now.

Got to run. It’s Memorial Day, there’s a parade, and I’m told my son’s name is being put up on a veteran’s plaque of some kind at the town hall. He’s a veteran now. But he’s alive, and home. We’re so lucky. Many are not. Remember them today, okay?

My manias and tics, listed for you

I need to stay calm. I need to stay calm. I NEED TO STAY CALM.

But I got tagged!

Julie at My 45th Year tagged me to list, and I quote, “to tell 6 things about your life which look like manias or tics, and then pass it to 6 other persons”.

Translation (I think). List six things that drive me crazy, to the point that others may wonder about my sanity. Then ask six others to tell me what makes them crazy, too.

So, in no particular order, here are my manias and tics.

1. This one I’ll steal from Julie. Hummers. Hummers are environmentally, ethically, and fiscally irresponsible. Environmentally. Gas. Emissions. So obvious. Ethically. Yes. Let’s glorify a war vehicle, and by all means, let’s glorify our dependence on foreign oil and the very people we’re supposed to be at “war” with. And don’t get me started on the hot pink Barbie Hummers out there. Fiscally. See Ethically.
2. George Bush. If you want to watch me turn into a whirling dervish of frustration and demoralized anger, ask me about W. I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again. We are the laughing stock of the world. Because last time we actually elected that damned fool. At least the first time we had an excuse.
3. The modern culture of work, which seems to include an awful lot of martyrdom. Yes. I’m a hospice nurse. That makes me a caregiver, and a nurturer. That does not make me, however, selfless. Expect me to deal with death and dying for 8-10 hours a day? Then give me my weekends off. And if you want me to work weekends, then give me a different two days off, because it’s not normal to talk about funerals, cremation, autopsies, heaven or the lack thereof, organ donation, morphine vs. dilaudid, bone pain, nerve pain, if your mother’s agitation is caused by medications or her brain mets, and whether angels are in the room or not, for 12 days straight, without a break. (Can you tell I am facing another week on call? Take a breath, Ann.)
4. People that hurt animals. Enough said.
5. Unpleasant (insert any position here). Little in life frosts my socks more than some bored, gum snapping, high schooler with an attitude checking me out at CVS. Or anywhere. (Nothing against CVS. It’s just an example.) But folks, listen. What if we all smacked our gum in boredom, and didn’t give a shit if we did a good job, or not? What if I, as your nurse, didn’t give a shit? You’d have a fit, wouldn’t you. So please. I’ve had a hard day. How hard would it be to smile, take my money without prompting, and thank me for my business? Trust me. Your boss will appreciate it. And so will I.
6. Iceberg lettuce. It’s a nutritional wasteland. Ask my kids. They know. (Because I’ve drilled it into their heads from birth.)

There you have it. Tag you’re it!

• Rima at Yarny Days
• Green Moon Knits
• Hannah at The Interlooper
• Mo at Rooster Hill Farm
• Kimberli at Whacky Auntie
• Kelly at Walking the Wall

My Schaefer cotton Clapotis is coming along.

I know. Boring.

I took that beaded bracelet class out at Let’s Bead last Monday night, and this is what I came home with. (It needs to be finished.) I’m kind of impressed with myself, if I do say so myself.

It’s called a Double Spine bracelet, and it’s made with wee, tiny, delica beads and somewhat larger seed beads, and a lot of patience.

And finally, a new project, taken on very spur of the moment. As many know, Knit n’ Purl is having a good sale, in preparation for moving or closing up for good, depending on which she decides on for sure. I got inspired by this, and had a vision of river rocks and moss and stones and sticks…

It’s going to be a scarf, but a short one. I think I want to accent it with glass and/or stone beads, or maybe wood or shells. Then wear it like jewelry.

I actually got myself over to the Flower City Knitters Ravelry knitting group this morning. And had a blast. I’ll definitely go back.

If you don’t hear from me, don’t despair. I’m just doing the hospice thing. I’ll be back. Don’t worry.

Birds like yarn?

We’ll find out.

I save my random clippings of yarn from weave-ins and fringes.  I save the weakened and slippery bits of roving that just won’t spin right (I have lots of those), too.

As I sat outside this morning to drink my coffee and munch on banana bread, I decided there was no time like the present to recycle my scraps.

In prior years I’ve just tossed the yarn randomly into shrubs, or laid it on the grass.  Who knows where it ended up.  This year, I want to give the birds easy access, so I loaded up an old suet feeder with wool scraps,

and hung it in the tree.

I’m hoping the birds help themselves and enjoy a warm bit of nest for their babies.

Actual knitting content

Holy crap, folks. Don’t push. Don’t shove. There’s plenty of knitting for everybody!

There’s a new Clapotis in town. Schaefer Laurel, yada yada yada, you read it all last week. This is how she’s shaping up.

Now. If you’ll excuse the clash of colors and patterns, the unwashed hair, and the shameless enjoyment of a photography shoot for one, I’ll show you Clapotis The First draped on the actual body. Instead of an actual table. Note I have not bothered to weave in the ends yet, as I evidently have as many issues with finishing a project as I do with starting too many.

Yep. So. Fashion show is over.

I ordered the new Interweave spinning book from Amazon.com yesterday, with a delivery date of Thursday. In the meantime I found Spin to Knit at Barnes and Noble yesterday. I desperately need help with my spinning. I am still getting chunky, thin, no control whatsoever “yarn”. I am having a horrible time with drafting, and all the internet videos in the world aren’t helping.

Spin to Knit has some decent instructions, and I think I picked up a few things. Like, really, really, pre-draft the fiber. Pull it sideways as well as lengthwise. Make it into a fluffy rectangle and then, and only then, draft out your thinner roving to spin.

This is what I’m ending up with.

I guess I’ll keep working on it.

Today was one of those days that just clicked. For instance, instead of chucking the over ripe bananas, I made banana bread. I didn’t have any granulated sugar, so I used brown sugar instead, and rather than nuts (none in the cupboard), I used banana/nut granola. Not bad, and it will taste really good tomorrow morning with peanut butter and a cup of coffee.

I made dinner.

I cleaned the bathroom.

This is big, big news around Chez Purl. Purl does not like to scrub bathtub rings or toilets. Even her own. But I did. And I did it well. (For once.)

And look. I’m disproportionately excited about the counter top. Doesn’t it look sort of spa-like? (No? Am I confusing clean with spa?) Okay. So it’s clean. and neat. I’m happy.

And look! Another photo op for La Clap et moi!

I also raked the patio clean of rotting leaves and sticks. Then I swept in the (sort of) warm sun, and brought up a patio chair. Tomorrow morning I want to sit in the dawn-light and listen to the birds before I get too far into the day. I’ll wear a coat. Maybe I’ll look weird, but I am weird, so no harm there.

In other news, the smoldering, stinking pile of germs that infested me last week have moved on. Germ-boys have found a new home. Yessir. They’re kicking the crap out of the Boyfriend now. Sorry, Boyfriend. Truly, I am. And now you know how crappy I felt.

(Is it wrong that I feel slightly vindicated right now?)

Tomorrow night is a bracelet weaving class at the bead store in East Rochester. I guess I’m excited about it. I signed up for the class on the weekend before my vacation, before I was really sick, and when the promise of a week off seemed like it was going to last forever.

I hope they have good colors to choose from. Since we’re paying $20 for supplies, I’m guessing the bracelet materials will come in kit form.

I have another knitting project sitting on the dining room table. The yarn is ready to be wound. I am trying to decide if I’ve got enough energy in me to wind the balls tonight and cast on, so I can take it to work with me tomorrow (and pretend I’ll have time to look at it during lunch).

Koigu gauntlets.

100 Things About Me

Thank you. Yes. I feel better. Much, much, much better. That was a nasty one.

In the absence of any real content, here’s 100 things about me.

I’m taking a jewelry class Monday night at Let’s Bead in East Rochester. We’ll be weaving a bracelet out of tiny beads. Several years ago I wove, using peyote stitch, little amulet bags from tiny seed beads and charted patterns. My eyes can’t take that detail work anymore. But I still love beads, so I’m going to give this bracelet a whack and hope good lighting and bifocals are enough to get me from one end of the bracelet to the other.

The cotton Schaefer Clapotis is coming along, and with much more speed and confidence than the first Clap did. Did I mention this is a great pattern?

Pictures this weekend. It’s Friday night and I’m just about ready to collapse.

Stitch marker lust

I’ve always admired beaded stitch markers in LYS’s, but never spent the money, figuring I could make them myself. And then never did.

A little browsing through AC Moore yesterday with the daughter, plus an unveiling of the beads left over from my Fort Lauderdale days, resulted in this pleasant diversion today.

And we have stitch markers! The wire wraps came back to me pretty quickly, and as usual, some are of far better quality than others.

My time on the couch yesterday yielded a nearly finished Booga bag. I have four more feet of i-cord to whip out, then I think I’m going to add a flap to this one, and somehow incorporate blue/green turquoise beading into the design.

More later.

Yes. I feel better today.

Who knew…

That printer paper would work so well.

Finis.

Idjut!

I promise my dad fruitcakes every Christmas. Some years he gets them in February, but he’s a casual sort of guy, and doesn’t let this sort of thing bother him.

So…yeah. I’m a month ahead of schedule. Good for me.

I prepared the pans.

You’re supposed to grease the pans, then grease heavy brown paper, then line the pans. Since I have the memory of a newt, and Wegman’s doesn’t routinely hand out brown paper shopping bags, I didn’t have any brown paper this morning. I briefly considered hacking into a Sephora bag, but then all that shiny black paper and ink and heaven-knows-what kind of chemicals…ick.

So I opted for printer paper.

Yeah.

I wish me luck, too.

So first you mix all the dry ingredients, of which fruit and nuts qualify, also.

Then you mix the wet ingredients (duh).

And then mix them all together in one huge bowl of sticky sweet sludge, and put them in the pans.

At which point you pop the little dears into the oven at 300 degrees for an hour, then cover them with foil and bake them for another 30-60 minutes, or whenever you get tired of waiting or they smell good, or whatever. Because every year it’s different.

What is NOT supposed to happen is five minutes after the oven door closes, you see this.

Shit.

I forgot to mix in the butter.

So out come the pans, I redump them into the big bowl, pick out my carefully greased frigging printer paper, reline the <insert swear word here> pans, mix in the damned butter, and put them in the oven again.

WTF.

One of these years I will get the process down. Or ideally, I will find a baking container that effortlessly spits out sticky, gummy fruitcakes without all this cutting and pasting of Crisco soaked printer paper.

**************************************************************

Yesterday I whacked the Christmas tree.

This is what remains.

A clean, neat place. Even the couch looks good. See the cat enjoying my shawl along the back of the couch. His posturing is a little, er, possessive, but what’s new.

What? You say you can’t see?

Here.

I’m pissed (no pun intended) at him today. Seems our little testosterone riddled feline felt the need to establish possession (see a trend here?) of a packing box I was going to send to Albany, packed with fruitcakes. Or maybe he just wanted my father to get a whiff of him, you know, in that friendly cat sort of way. Little bastard.

But he is cute. So his furry gray ass stays. I can find another box.

<Sigh>

Je suis un chat amant. Really.***

Me: Harrison! Get your furry gray ass butt off my shawl!

Me: Now!!!!

Me: No. Forget it. You stay right there. Let me get the camera.

Harrison P. Cat gives new meaning to the word “cute”, doesn’t he. Look at that imploring face, those eyes…

Me loves me my kitteh.

Clearly it’s time for someone to return to work.

I stopped by Spirit Works today, and this Adirondack Silk Twist found it’s way into my bag. I think I’m going to use it for a Branching Out. The colorway is called Navajo, and the picture doesn’t do it justice, even when I adjusted the lighting…

Adirondack Yarns also has a wool/silk sock blend called Silky Socks, which I picked up in Serendepity and plan to make some lacy socks from the Interweave Favorite Socks book.

Sock yarn here.

I’m almost looking forward to returning to a routine tomorrow. I’m not particularly good with long stretches of unstructured time, though this week has been nice. I’ve been very domestic, which is unusual. My kitchen has that lived-in look. Witness…

(*** I am a cat lover. Really.)