Mood elevator

Going up….

My brother is a person who has a themed tree every year. One year it was an elf, complete with elf feet near the base, and hands somewhere in the middle. This year I think it’s blue and silver? Maybe apple green and white. Me…I’m a traditionalist. I have ornaments from when I was a baby. I love to get them out each year, dust them off, and drift back, for just a nanosecond, to the time and place the ornament represents.

This one reminds me of my Grandpa, for instance. He was a watchmaker.

My grandmother gave me an engraved brass ornament from Lillian Vernon every year for a while. All these years later, I still miss her terribly.

One year when I was little, I told her I liked this one, and she let me take it off her tree, and take it home to mine. It’s barely holding together.

I took this one off my tree at home when I left to start my own life. I remember it being hung every year when I was a kid.

My great aunt Jessie, I think, made this one when I was tiny.

One of the most special ornaments of all is the one I got one day in the mail a couple of years ago. It was a surprise. One of the other moms of a deployed Marine sent them out to our frightened little group of Marine moms with kids overseas. I wish I remembered her name now, but I’ll never forget what she did. The Christmas my son was deployed in Afghanistan was a rough one. This helped a little. At least we were in it together, us Marine moms.

Not really an ornament…but…my grandmother gave me her creche. One year I had it on a shelf, walked by, caught my sleeve on the corner, and the whole thing hit the hardwood floor. Nativity figures flew into pieces, and decades-old bits of straw and wood flew everywhere. It looked like a modern day bombing in Jerusalem.

This is all that’s left.

And here’s the finished tree. Done!

Oh, and by the way. My day off was absolutely splendid. The boyfriend took us to Dinosaur Barbecue, where the ribs taste like a campfire and the cornbread is to die for….

And tomorrow is Friday and payday. Any day that starts with an ‘F’ and ends in cash is a good day for me.

Oh, and Harrison says, “I really wish Mom would go back to work. She’s driving me nuts.”

Noro cat blanket

Some may call me crazy…

Many do…

But I knit my cat a Noro Kureyon log cabin blanket.

See how just a few minutes on top of some Noro changes the level of consciousness of a cat.

And so to sleep…

Wake up and HELLO it’s winter

Hmmmph.

The brightness of the falling snow and the streetlight outside my bedroom combined forces at 3:30 AM today, and led me to believe it was morning.

Silly me.

I got up, ignored the darkness of the hallway, and stumbled downstairs. I was ravenous, and so snarfed down my Honey Nut Cheerios with a banana while waiting for the coffee to brew.

I turned on the computer. Checked the time. Oh, hell, what is this? Middle of the night? WTF.

So I stayed up for a while, read some work-related email (bad idea) and finally got tired enough to go back to bed.

I have plans to go Christmas shopping today out at Eastview, but if the roads are bad, I may have to rein that plan in and just go to Greece.

So here’s the damage, in terms of snowfall.

I know. It could be so much worse.

So anyway. It’s stopped snowing, I’m sure the plows have been out, so a road trip to Victor for some Christmas secrets might not be out of the question.

Harrison P. Cat is unsure of his feelings about snow.

Though it seems clear in this picture. It’s a feline version of What the hell is going on, Mom?

Despite a week from holy hell at work (the impending holidays bring out the best in everyone, don’t they?), some progress has been made in the knitting department.

Witness the Waves scarf in Malabrigo merino. This is the Rhodesian colorway. Of which I need more, as this scarf (or, more specifically, the cables) eat yarn.

Version 2.0 of Brooklyn Tweed’s Noro striped scarf is a mindless knit that I can do anytime. I like the color striping better on this version than the previous one I did.

Of course no week is complete without a trip to the yarn store. I’ve found a new appreciation for Knit ‘n’ Purl in Brighton. I used to think they were pretty snobby, but now I enjoy my visits. Besides, it’s on my way to the hospital, so a quick stop at lunch time is a nice way to break up the day. And where else can I get the dirt on what is evidently very old news to everyone else, but news to me…the Debbie Bliss, Noro, KFI cashmere scandal?

I never walk away empty handed. I had meant to see if she had more of the Malabrigo colorway for my Waves scarf, but instantly forgot about that as I perused the Noro silk garden lite cubby.

And got this. Colorway is 2017. It’s earmarked for either a Clap or a Lady Eleanor.

My calm and reasonably pleasant life as I know it is about to be disrupted by a week of on-call. Remember I said holidays and people don’t necessarily mix? Ramp that chemical reaction up a notch or three with families in crisis. So this week will likely be a challenge, and I can pretty much kiss my crafty night life goodbye.

I keep telling myself… Money. It’s more yarn money.

Yep. Uh huh. I’ll just keep saying that.

Harrison P. Cat made his decision re: the snow. He doesn’t look too happy, and seems to be taking his frustration out on some poor artificial creature.

Maybe I should wear my new snow boots to Eastview. Where do I think I live? Alaska?

Starry Nights

A knitting group might be forming. I met M. last night at Starry Nights on University Ave.
She needed help switching colors on a scarf she’s making. I told her that while the socialization would likely be nice, she might be horribly disappointed at the teaching portion of the evening. Little did she know that switching colors means no more than picking up another piece of yarn and knitting on like nothing in particular is happening.

So we do that for a while, gossip a bit, and then discuss all the people we both work with who are knitters. My medical director is one. My boss is another. The woman at the hospital who works in my role, but for another agency, is yet another. M. has some oncologist friends who knit. So a group is forming. It might be fun. Some of us are beginners, in the truest sense of the word. Some of us a very, very accomplished. (Not me.) One of us spins (my medical director). M. and I said we’d set her up in the corner with her wheel and have her produce yarn for the rest of us. “Faster, K! Faster!” we’ll shout.

This morning on my way to work I stopped to sit with this young woman who had just somehow broadsided a school bus with such force that her car was totaled. At first glance she didn’t appear to be hurt, but with all that adrenaline sloshing around, she couldn’t really tell. At least there was no blood. And no kids were hurt. Anyway, she said she didn’t know what happened. This big yellow thing was suddenly in front of her. Holy crap, but that’s a big thing to pop up out of nowhere. And bright yellow, too. At least no one was hurt. The cop who first spoke with her was very kind and oh so gentle. I was really impressed with him. And then the rescue crew showed up and I went to work. I hope she’s okay.

My mother (read: my readership of one) said that she is disappointed when there is no new post. So for you, CKN — a post. And the requisite cat picture. Harrison P. Cat saw his way clear to re-enter the homestead when the rain started pouring down.

However, he brought came in with dirty feet. Dirty, dirty feet. Mr. Dirty Feet. Enlarge the floor picture and you’ll see. Or just skip it, because what the HELL. Who posts pictures of the floor?

He has a new cat food called Harmony Farm. It’s (predictably) expensive, more expensive than Iams. But he seems to really like it, and as far as the human nose vs. cat food — this is not bad stuff. You can get it at Wegmans.
Note to CKN. Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite!

What? I just got up.

I seem to be spending my life, since the time change, sleeping.

I spent years battling insomnia, and now, when I have things to do, damn it, all I want to do is sleep.

It’s all this darkness. Tell me why I did not notice this last year. I feel like I’m living in Alaska. There’s like two hours of daylight here. I wake up in the dark, drive to work in the wee hours, and drive home in the dead of night. And I work a normal eight hour day. What the…

In knitting news, which this blog is, after all, about –

1) The Adirondack socks are making me wish for new bifocals.

2) I couldn’t resist the pull of the Malibrigo. Or the lure of cables. Put the two together and you have smooshy soft cuddly warm squishy schmoo to bury your nose in on a cold winter day.

3) All this cabling and squinting made me hungry for a quick fix. And some glitz. This is one of those sparkly, furry little numbers knit length-wise, which somehow makes it less of a novelty yarn scarf and more of a perfectly nice scarf to wear with black pants and a long white blouse. But that’s just me.

Then what blog post is complete without a Harrison P. Cat update…tonight he’s sleeping…

(Yawn.) And so am I.

knitting in miniature

Happy post Halloween. Hope your sugar highs are high enough, and the subsequent crash occurs right at your usual bedtime!

As predicted, I avoided Halloween by A) working late, and B) later pretending I was not home.

However, I did celebrate by laughing hysterically at this. Whoever this Reynolds guy is, he and I must have been standing really close together when they were handing out senses of humor.

The title of this post refers to the business of knitting the cuff of a sock in what appears to be extreme miniature. My eyes are burning. But it’s pretty. I’ve stretched it out, and it seems it will fit on even my fat foot, size 2 needles and all. The Silky Sock from Adirondack is a nice yarn; it doesn’t split or do anything funky, despite it’s silk content.

I finished row 6 of 18 rows of twisted rib for the cuff, and that’s quite enough for tonight. Like I said, my eyes are burning.

H.P. Cat was a bit miffed that his outdoor activities were curtailed for the evening. I tried to explain to him that I was saving him from evil in the form of 15 year old psychopaths, but he was neither enlightened by this, or amused. In fact, he took to the top of the cabinets in protest.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, Cat, you can go outside. Tonight, please. Stay inside with your mama and stay safe.

Work was crazy busy today, but it felt good. Lots of good things done today. That’s why I’m really lucky. Not many people get to end their days knowing they truly, honestly, did a good day’s work and impacted other’s lives in (what I think) is a profound way. I get to do that every day.

Lucky, lucky me.

Boo and all that jazz

I am a party pooper. My intentions for tonight are to keep the lights off and ignore the doorbell. I did not buy candy (fearing I would eat it all). I am a bad, bad, very bad neighbor.

C’est la vie, folks. Get over it.

Harrison P. is skulking in the pre-dawn hours (sitting on Charlotte again, damnit), hoping to escape into the great outdoors for a day of hunting and stalking. Mais, non, my little kitten. You must stay inside today, as evil lurks out there on this all Hallow’s eve, and even though you are a gray kitty and not a black one, you must still stay safely inside.

Tomorrow you can go.

He is not happy to hear this news.

If I keep goofing off, I will be late for my early appointment. Death and dying wait for no (wo)man, so I will return later with more news of my oh-so-exciting life in Rochester.

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.)