Sweater Project

I’m definitely not giving knitting priority in my life. I haven’t been keeping meticulous track of any figures to support this claim, but I think I can justly reach that conclusion based on two pieces of data.

During the original Knitting Olympics in 2006, I completed a pair of plain kilt hose in two weeks. That was hard - I spent almost all my free time knitting. I remember being so frantic during that period that at one point I was stopped at a red light on my scooter and knitting. That is what making knitting a priority is like.

So far this year, however, there has been a dearth of knitting time for me. There was a brief burst of creativity and action when I realized I only had a couple of days to turn out a thong for the Yarn Harlot, but that was the exception rather than the rule.

For all my laziness, however, I’m very pleased with the result of my single main project so far this year. Behold the Bamboo and Alpaca socks that I finished this weekend for my sister-in-law.

I started these in December. Yeah. No hurry here. Maybe I need to start taking Kniagra or something.

I got really sick this weekend and made an appointment to see my doctor first thing this morning. As I was sitting in the waiting room, I was distracting myself by reading World War Z, a novel about a zombie plague. (I forgot my knitting.)

When the nurse took me into an exam room to pre-screen me, she took my temperature and noted that it was slightly elevated, as was my blood pressure. She asked what my complaint was. “I was bitten by a zombie last night and I’m not feeling too well this morning” I said, hacking between each syllable.

“I see. And have you developed a craving for brains yet?”

“No, not yet. No appetite at all, really.”

“Good, it’s important to catch these things early. So what’s the real problem, smartass?”

I love my doctor. The end diagnosis was bronchitis, and she prescribed a course of antibiotics and an inhaler. I wonder what she would have prescribed for a craving for brains?

So, two years ago at Rhinebeck, Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, the Yarn Harlot, persuaded me to buy a big cone of merino yarn. “It’ll make awesome kilt hose!”, she said.

It was only later that I realized how scratchy the stuff was. So, this evening in Austin, I presented her with my instrument of righteous revenge:

Being her usual unflappable self though, she took it, felt it, and said “This really isn’t that scratchy. What, do you not like it rough?”

I might have to make her a matching bra now just to drive the point home.

My poor, neglected blog.
I just haven’t had that much to share lately. Most of the interesting things going on in my life right now are not things that I want to post on the Internet. And all of my witty quips have been directed towards Twitter (I’m @druzziel on Twitter). But there are a couple of blog-worthy things going on in my life right now.

I’ve got a surprise present for the Yarn Harlot when she comes to speak in Austin tomorrow night. It’s something I’ve been threatening promising for a while now. Hopefully she will like it and the evening will end in laughs and not a restraining order.

I’m also working on a program at the behest of one of my friends which I am tentatively naming Mirrr (pronounced mirror). It’s a Flickr uploader that allows you to organize photos into folders on your local machine, then upload those folders as sets on Flickr. The idea here being that it’s easier to organize photos on your local hard drive than it is to use Flickr’s interface to do the job. Hopefully some people will find it useful.

I was leaving for work one morning last week and I saw a couple of twigs in my mailbox. “That’s funny”, I thought, “I guess the grounds guys were going a little nuts with the weed whackers this morning.” I was running late (as always) so I didn’t stop to clear out the rubbish. I forgot about it until a day or two later when I pulled some letters out of the box.

Under the letters was a half-formed bird’s nest. I left a note on the box for the postman asking him to leave the letters in a coffee can by my door for the time being. When I got home this weekend, I peeked inside . . . and got a sparrow to the face. Good thing I was wearing my sunglasses.

After the bird took off I peeked in again and saw four tiny little eggs. I wonder if these little guys are going to chip in for the rent.

I went up to Austin yesterday for the final Recreational League game of the season and saw some really great derby action. If there’s a league near you, go. It’s the honorable thing to do.

I hate the night before a trip. Hate hate hate it. I usually have to get up very early to catch my plane, and I am a horrible planner, so I find myself in a harried state the night before which makes it really hard to get to sleep. Which makes me nervous. And so on and so forth. I wish I had a formula like the Count of Monte Christo to command sleep at will. (His formula would probably land me in county jail for a while though, so I’ll have to forgo it.)

Okay, deep breath. Don’t think about the planning and the perils of travel. Think about catching the Seattle Erotic Arts Festival and meeting old and new friends in one of your favorite cities in the US. Think about knitting on the plane, and seafood in Pike Place market, and awesome yarn and bon-bons from Churchmouse Yarn and Teas. Think about the fantastic photographic possibilities in Seattle. Think about visiting the home of Utilikilts.

It should be a good weekend. Okay, time to finish packing.

I had the honor last weekend of going to Scarborough Faire and to camp out with the knights of Noble Cause. They are a great bunch of people. I went this year, as I did last year, to see and photograph lots of chivalrous carnage. But this year I got a candid photo before one of the bouts that really took my breath away.

I also did a meager bit of knitting, barely enough to rank mention here. Still working on my sister-in-laws socks. I swear they’ll be done before the 4th of July.

The Austin recreational derby league had a game this weekend, and derby troublemaker organizer Obi-Mom Kenobi asked me to head up and take pictures. Which I, of course, did. You don’t need to twist my arm to get a chance to add more derby queen photos to my collection.

This weekend’s lineup was the Caped Crusaders vs. the KISS of Death (copious amounts of facepaint were present in that bout) and the Victoria’s Secret Service vs. Poison Ivy League (more lingerie and naughty schoolgirl attire than you could shake a stick at). Excellent fun, and the brunch and after party were delightful.

Seriously, if you live in the United States somewhere, there’s probably a roller derby league nearby you, and if you haven’t already checked it out you should. I can’t guarantee that every league is as awesome as the ones near me, but you owe it to yourself to find out.

˙ʞɔnl ǝɯ ɥsıʍ ˙ʎʞs ǝɥʇ oʇuı ƃuıʇǝɯɯnld oƃ oʇ ƃuıoƃ ʇou ɯɐ ı ƃuıplınq ǝɥʇ ʇıxǝ ı sɐ uoos sɐ ʇɐɥʇ ƃuıɯnssɐ ɯ,ı os ‘punoɹƃ ǝɥʇ uo llıʇs s,ʇı puɐ ‘ʍopuıʍ ǝɥʇ ɯoɹɟ ɹɐɔ ʎɯ ǝǝs uɐɔ ı ˙ɹoop ʇuoɹɟ ǝɥʇ ʇno qɯılɔ oʇ pǝǝu ı ‘ǝɯ ǝsnɔxǝ llıʍ noʎ ɟı ʍou ˙ʇǝsolɔ ǝɥʇ ɟo doʇ ǝɥʇ oʇ uǝllɐɟ pɐɥ ƃuıɥʇʎɹǝʌǝ ǝsnɐɔǝq lɐǝpɹo uɐ ɟo ƃuıɥʇǝɯos sɐʍ pǝssǝɹp ƃuıʇʇǝƃ ˙ʇuǝɯʇɹɐdɐ ǝɥʇ ɟo ɹoolɟ ʇsɹıɟ ǝɥʇ oʇ dn qɯılɔ oʇ pǝƃɐuɐɯ puɐ ʇı ɥʇɐǝuɹǝpun ɯoɹɟ ʇno pǝlqɯɐɹɔs ı

˙ǝɯ ɟo doʇ uo uʍop ƃuıssǝɹd sɐʍ ʇı ʇɐɥʇ ʇuɐǝɯ ʍou ,ɥʇɐǝuɹǝpun, ʇdǝɔxǝ ˙ǝɯ ɥʇɐǝuɹǝpun llıʇs pǝq ʎɯ ɥʇıʍ ƃuılıǝɔ ǝɥʇ ʇsuıɐƃɐ pǝssǝɹd sɐʍ ı ‘dn ǝʞoʍ ı uǝɥʍ puɐ ‘ʇɥƃıu ǝɥʇ ƃuıɹnp ǝɯıʇǝɯos pǝsɹǝʌǝɹ uǝǝq pɐɥ ʇuǝɯʇɹɐdɐ ʎɯ ɟo ǝlɐɔol ǝɥʇ uı ʎʇıʌɐɹƃ ɟo ǝɔɹoɟ ǝɥʇ ˙dǝǝls oʇ ʇuǝʍ ı uǝɥʍ sɐʍ ʇı ʇɐɥʍ ʇ,usɐʍ ,doʇ, ʇnq ˙pǝq ʎɯ ɟo doʇ uo llıʇs sɐʍ ı ʇɐɥʇ pǝzılɐǝɹ ı ‘uoıʇɐnʇıs ǝɥʇ ɟo ʞɔoʇs ƃuıʞɐʇ ɹǝʇɟɐ

˙ʇɥƃnoɥʇ ı os ɹo ˙pǝq ʎɯ ɥʇɐǝuɹǝpun ʎlqɐɔıldxǝuı ǝʞoʍɐ ı ‘ƃuıuɹoɯ sıɥʇ ʇnq ‘ɥɔnɯ os ʇı puıɯ ʇ,uop ı ǝɯıʇ ǝɥʇ ɟo ʇsoɯ ˙ɯıɥ ɥʇıʍ ǝɯoɥ ʞɹoʍ sıɥ sƃuıɹq sǝɯıʇǝɯos ǝɥ puɐ ‘ʎɹɐʇılıɯ ǝɥʇ ɥʇıʍ ʇsıɔısʎɥd ɐ sı ɹoqɥƃıǝu ʎɯ os