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I kept thinking of the picture of Cheb I posted yesterday. There was something about it... and this morning I realized exactly what "it" was. I've seen a similar picture.
I think I was Cheb's age in this picture. (That's my brother to my right.) I was wearing the poncho my mom crocheted for me: purple with black fringe. I wore that thing every single day. Literally. It was falling to pieces, I wore it so much.
Apparently the poncho gene is passed down from the mother.
Last Saturday I went to brunch at the home of a friend and it turned into a yarn swap. It's not the type of thing I normally do- I've never considered myself a wild and crazy person. And I never figured my knitting friends to be swingers when it came to their yarn.
I took my yarn from my bag and set it on the table with the others. I sat off to the side and looked away. Cassie directed the swap; I would never have figured it, but it seems she's done this before. Many times before. She seems so innocent.... Anyway, I couldn't help but notice some really attractive yarn (hey- I am a knitter, you know). But there was this one that stood out.
It's funny, but it's not the type of yarn I usually go for: yes, the wool was amazingly soft, but the color? Variegated, pastel pinks and purples. Totally not my bag, man. And yet... I found myself drawn to it. I caught myself thinking, I bet that yarn would really get along well with Cheburashka. And I was all, whoa- where did that come from? That mimosa must have gone to my head. Or maybe that Coco Spice tea had a special ingredient not listed on the label? Who knows, but I soon found myself off in the corner with the variegated pink & purple yarn.
The rest is kind of a blur: I woke up the next day with Yarny crashed out on my couch. It was awkward. Did anything happen? One skein was wound into a ball, but... anyway. So I was all yeah, you know, maybe we'll hang around today- but I was really hoping to ditch Yarny and pick up Noro and work on that Butterfly sweater we started last week. But then I found Yarny to be very sweet (and amazingly soft, as I mentioned), and we started talking about ponchos (Yarny's very old fashioned) and matching hats and then next thing I know I'm casting on.
We spent the next couple of days together: at the park, on the subway, cuddling on the couch. Before I knew it, I had a small poncho. We stayed up late last night, cutting sections for fringe. There was enough of Yarny left for a crocheted flower, so I added that. And, while I know it's kind of early in our relationship to do so, I introduced Yarny to Cheburashka and they really hit it off . We're thinking of working on a hat for Cheb with Yarny's last skein. I know! It's been a crazy few days, but... wow. What can I say?
The only thing that kinda worries me is this: what if one day Cheb asks how we met? I mean, she's kinda young to hear that I met Yarny in a yarn swap. I don't think she'd understand. Maybe I can say we met through a friend? (Though, the truth is, I can't remember who brought Yarny to the swap.)
Last year as Cheb frolicked in the playground with her new school buddies I mostly kept to myself and knit, though there were a few moms that I chatted with. I noticed a group of women that mostly hung out around the picnic tables and seemed to have kind of a clique going on. I'd smile and nod (and on one occasion stopped by to check out what one woman was knitting), but never really talked with them. This year, the youngest child of one of those moms has Cheb's old kindergarten teacher. She approached me to ask about Cheb's experience and the next thing I know, I'm part of the clique.
There are some cool things about them: some of them knit, and others crochet. They've put me on to some places in the neighborhood that sell yarn. They now save me a seat at the bench, and we have an afterschool stitch and bitch going on. They're nice people; all have grown up in the neighborhood, and all have older children in the school, so they've brought me up to speed on how the school runs. But.
Continue reading "It seems I've fallen in with the wrong crowd" »
Or so I've been told. By a six-year-older.
Unless, of course, it's funny-on-demand. Like when I took Cheb and her friend to the local playground: Cheb informed the little girl (also a six-year-older) that her mom is "very funny." She then turned to me and said, "Go ahead, Mom. Be funny." All I could say was "Huh?" while I shielded my eyes from the sun as I watched for cars before we crossed the street. Cheb says, "Look! She's being a captain on a ship!" And the two fell out laughing.
Six-year-olders don't know what the hell funny is.
People, I'm not even trying to surround myself with firemen- it just keeps happening. First of all, the new job (which starts in about 8 days) is located near FDNY headquarters in Brooklyn. When I went to fill out the paperwork (and pee in a cup, and get photographed for my ID), I got to ogle all the EMTs wandering around. Yep- gonna like working in that area.
I'll be working for a utility company (BUt I'm not Gonna say which one) doing almost exactly what I did for the Evil Empire. Except instead of just collecting payments I'll also service accounts. Which is good, in that it won't be the same old thing each call. I tried to branch out, y'all. But apparently I was meant to work in this business.
Anyway, Saturday: I step out of my door to take out the garbage and find five (yes, five) firemen poking around the wires hanging above my door. They're still investigating the fire and making sure there are no other problems with wiring that could lead to another fire. I chatted with them (and made googoo eyes with one who I swear made them back) as they inspected my door and pointed out problems with it that they will put on the report they're giving the landlord. Cheb came out and they told her they were making sure the building is safe. Sigh.
I'm going to turn down the NYPD job: I was hired as a 911 operator, but the hours just won't work for me right now. Training takes place during the late-night shift, and I don't have childcare for those hours. I really miss working nights, but that's hard to do when you're the sole caretaker of a young child. So much for that. I'm going to have to find another way to copy Rachael.
Oh, say... maybe like this?
Having learned from Rachael's Must Have Bolero, I decided to use reverse psychology and make crazy pattern sizing (and incorrect gauge) work for me this time. I made the largest size with a larger needle and hoped for the best. And it worked! I figured if it didn't, I'd give it to my niece. (Sorry, kiddo- it fits, so it's mine!) This went super quick, taking about 2.5 weeks. Maybe because I cabled without a cable needle- which means I didn't keep dropping it or losing it and having to put the sweater aside until I found another one. I used Paton's Classic Wool in dark natural mix (yep, copying La Brainy there), blocked the sweet bejeebus out of it and got a great sweater that fits and I'm never ever never taking it off.
That is, until I finish Butterfly , which I started two days ago in Silk Garden. Color #88, copied from Em. Okay, MIndy and Cari and Jackie- which colors can I steal from you?
Up: I'm back on the Interweb.
Down: The very next day, malware took over my computer and reset my passwords, locking me out. Forgot to turn firewall back on. Duh.
Up: Deleted my hard drive and did a custom installation, only installing things I need. Runs like a dream.
Down: Cleaned house. Important stuff backed up (for once), but lost some downloaded music and files (including the Russian Spongebob Squarepants song), some photos, and my Umaturman videos. What'll I do without my Vova??
Up: Finished a major project and started a new one. Tearing through the stash.
Down: Forgot to buy batteries. No pix yet.
Up: Cari rescued another Krusty Kitten from the mean streets of Brooklyn. Quite possibly Peony's sibling.
Down: Quite possibly Peony's sibling. Kidding- but she can't keep her. If anyone can take her in, drop a line.
Up: I FOUND A JOB.
Down: I missed my goal of being two years without a job by 8 weeks. So close.
Yep, I'm back. I told my old ISP to kiss my grits, and moved on. Which means I've changed my email address. AGAIN.
But the best parts? I can stop the drive-by postings and bore amuse you with the various goings-on 'round these parts. And I can finally catch up on all the blogs I've been missing out on. Helluva a lot going on out there...
Anyway. Weeeehaw, y'all.
It's getting ridiculous. I'm going to have to do something about all the crazy comment spam I'm getting.
And let's not even talk about email. Jeez. I'm going to overhaul everything this week and we'll see how it all works out.
Bear with me, y'all.
It's been a busy week for me, so I haven't really sat down and watched the news. I knew I couldn't deal if I did, so...yeah. Avoidance sometimes works for me.
Today I sat and watched. People: how the hell do we have refugees- and refugee camps, let's call it what it is- in the USA??? How???
The only positive thing I'll say it the the news media seems to be handing W his ass, as well they should. Seriously, how badly is this being handled??
I've got to run, but I want to add a thank you for all the comments to my last post. We're well. Thank you all.
Take care of yourselves.
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