Out of the suit

I freely admit that I'm a geek.  I'm raising a geek (Imp recently made a LEGO mule from Serenity), most of my family seems to be one flavor of geek or another.

 See, isn't it AWESOME?  The blond is River, by the way.  I think he ran out of brunette wigs.  I'm still not sure why Jayne is a Musketeer.

My current geek?  The Avengers movie.  And Iron Man, and Thor, and Captain America, and Sherlock, and...

I know enough about the comics to truly enjoy the movies.  I want to get further into the comics.  Especially Marvel and Dark Horse.  Batman is about the only DC character that I enjoy.  Beats the hell out of me why, it just is.

As stated many times before I am a knitter.  Something that befalls most knitters (if not all, but I try not to make sweeping statements.  It gets me in trouble) is pretty yarn. 

One such enabler is BeunaSuerte.  She's evil!  She has put out a Shwarma yarn club based on various characters from Avengers.  This month was Genius, Billionare, Playboy, Philanthropist.  Tony Freakin' Stark. 

Now, what color should this yarn be?  Huh?  Like I have to ask.

620 yards of Hot rod red and a flash of gold.  In the words of JARVIS, classy.

Done!

My holiday knitting, that is.  Two hats and a Calorimetry.  Plus a small micro-turtle done in brown cotton.  (Note to Self: Don't knit anything fiddly in cotton.  It makes you cuss)

Sadly, the photos are still on my camera or laptop and not uploaded quite yet.  I'll probably to that tomorrow--along with folding laundry.  Whee.  What an exciting life I lead.

However, I may be able get get one more hat done.  This would be for my baby niece, Sprite.  I'm in no hurry, but it should be a fairly quick knit.  We shall see.

I have a mystery package UPSing its way to me.  I'm not too sure what it is, honestly.  It might be some tea samples, but I'm drawing a blank here.  It's not the right coast for my BPAL order to be shipped from, so...

Christmas shopping and wrapping were also finished up today. 

Frankly, all I want right now is for the car I use to be fixed.  Two Fridays ago, said car decided it didn't like that particular vintage of anti-freeze and left it all over the carport.  Bugger.  I realized this when, after dropping Imp and canned goods off at school, the car decided not to put out any heat and the engine get really hot.

I made the fifteen minute drive back home begging it not to explode on me.

We have yet to hear back from the cranky mechanic.  He's a crusty old soul.  I like him.

It's raining, it's pouring

It's the middle of December and I just heard a couple of rumbles of thunder.  It's also close to 60 Fahrenheit.  That's not right in my book.  It's supposed to be a good twenty degrees cooler at least. 

Although, this does explain the migraine I have. 

I guess I haven't been knitting enough around various family members.  My niece asked me this past Sunday for a knitted hat for Christmas.  Green and with cables, thank you very much.

Now, I just relieved a skein of Sanguine Gryphon's Bugga!  But there is no way I'm using that yarn on a kid that attracts dirt and smutz like a magnet.  I refuse.
 
So, I trekked up to my LYS and snagged a skein of Universal Yarns Classic Worsted.  This is the same yarn I used on Imp's never ending scarf.

Violet, my niece, will get an Owlie Hat. 

I promised my sister-in-law, Bubbles last year that I'd make her a calorimetry.  I don't know how many times I tried to figure that so simple pattern out, but couldn't get it.

This year?  Dude....

So I made her one.  One that's too small.  GAH!  Thankfully, I have enough of the Berrocco Ultra Alapca to make a bigger one, which is where I'm heading to in just a minute.

I'd rather be sleeping, though.

Why did I procreate?

Oy.  My baby niece had definitely cured me of wanting anymore kids.  Imp is more than enough.

Almost three hours of screaming.  We think she has colic like my brother did.  I didn't care for that then, and now is no damned different.

Somewhere in this house is a picture of 23 month old me sitting in a white tee and diaper, holding brand-spanking-new-Brother dressed the same and screaming the house down.  Evidently the look on my face was one of "return this noisy thing from where you got it.  RETURN NOW".

That explains our relationship to a 't'.

In other kiddie news, Imp now has his glasses.  Here's hoping he's not teased like the way I was.  He's also in band.  Playing drums. 

See?  There's his brand new, ooh it's so shiny snare drum.  With that stupid never ending scarf.  I finally finished it and promptly did a little victory dance.  

The pattern I used called for knitting the thing on DPNs and then adding fringe to the ends.  Well, there's no way on Gaia's great green tukus that I was going to make a five foot scarf with fringe for a ten year old boy.  Nope.  Not gonna do it.

So, I made it in the round and added a blanket stitch edging to both ends.

My mistake was making it on DPNs.  I should have just made it on straight needles in a ribbed pattern.

I learned my lesson well.

I almost strangled him with it, too.  Imp has a love/hate relationship with school.  He downright loathes to write.  A paragraph may take up to three hours.  Add into this that like any kid he will lie about having homework done.

I've fought with his school district for three years trying to figure out what there is wrong.  Imp can do his work, he won't sit still for it, though.  Last year I asked the school for an IEP.  Which, by state law, they have to provide, if I understand right. 

Except, they didn't.  They instead told me that if Imp does have a problem, then it's not severe enough for them to get involved.  I disagreed.  My mom-stinct was screaming that there's Something Not Right.

It's not bias when I say Imp is extremely intelligent.  He can focus when he wants to.  Cripes, in third grade he was reading Harry Potter with now help.  I think he was the only third grader in the district that could!

I had also asked his doctor about getting him tested to see if he had a learning disability, because I wanted to help him get the tools he needs.  I was told not to give him soda.

Oh, for the love of-!  Look, I may look young, I may have been born blonde, but I am not an idiot.

I went to the local university, which had a kiddie psych program and that would test him for me.  I didn't want to just arbitrarily slap a label on Imp.  I wanted to help him.

We're still fighting the homework.  He'd rather talk or bounce around.  I honestly think that he's just bored out of his skull.  I just have no idea how to get the school district to listen to me.

I need a drink.

Religiosity and the Fuzzy-Wuzzies

My brother goes to a local Baptist church.  I've met most the people there, and I can say that they are good people. 

My son, Imp, has decided he wants to go.  I'm happy for him.  He's been asked to help with the puppets.  I'm proud of him.

But, I'm uncomfortable with church. 

See, I classify myself as a happy little pagan. 

I remember telling someone that, and they did their version of bug-nut crazy, saying that it's nothing but a cult, blah, blah, blah.

Dude, don't force your views on me.  It's rude and inconsiderate.

The way I look at the Divine is that it's just too blasted big to be understood by humans.  If I want to talk to a goddess name Brigid or Morrigan or Allah or Jehovah, then it's my business.  Not yours.

When I was pregnant with Imp over ten years ago, I was asked something; would it bother me if my son didn't choose the same path as me?

Honestly?  Nope.  I said that as long as he's a good person, I will always support him.  I will support him if he wants to become a Catholic priest.  If he wants to learn about Judaism, I will help by finding a synagogue.  The same for Taoism, Buddhism, Islam.  I will help him.

My only caveat on his decisions; if he follows the moronic idiots like Phelps and Falwell and other zealots, I will beat the ever-lovin' tar out of that boy. 

In my mind, hate has no place in any religion.

It's not my place to force any sort of view on my child.  I feel it's my place to guide him into the path that suits him.

I believe that there is no one true way.  Truth is subjective.  Just because I believe one thing, does not mean that someone else has to believe it.  Find what fits you.  I don't care if the Flying Spaghetti Monster noodles you into rapture.  That's for you.

For me, I feel closer to gnostic Christianity, Celtic paganism, with a hefty dose of Buddhism.  It works for me.

Joseph Campbell said it best: follow your bliss.

Can't sleep, something will obviously eat me.

Fark.

 So, it's right around 1.30 in the morning CST.  Why in the name of fuzzy unicorns am I still up?

I've got my two hour road trip to handle in about nine hours--give or take.  Not cool Murphy.  You and Karma need to find someone else to bork with.  I.  Am.  Not.  Amused.  Seriously.

Yeah, y'all heard right.  Every Friday, yours truly takes a two hour (thankfully not three, 'cause I don't think I'd get THAT song outta my head.) round trip to pick my niece, Violet, up.

Don't ask why her father doesn't drive.  It just irritates me.

Also, don't ask why Mommie Dearest of Violet doesn't meet us half-way.  That, too irritates me. 

And I come armed with pointy sticks and large amounts of string.

Anyway, we have no working central air.  This is not fun for your intrepid typer.  I suffer from migraines.  I've had the bitches for...fifteen years now.  Just about half my life.  Heat and humidity are large triggers.  So is stress.

So, yeah.  That's probably why I ain't sleeping so well lately.  Sadly, that's also a trigger.  I can't win, can I?  Well, I head over to St. Louis to the neuro clinic next week.  I can yell at them to hopefully get the meds that will work.  If not...well, look for news reports about a cranky woman strangling doctors with yarn. 

Knit one, breathe two

I have a feeling that I'm going to be knitting quite a bit in the near future.  It keeps me sane.  I'll need it.

Mom's back in the hospital, she does have cancer and has started chemo treatments.  I think.  I haven't heard anything.  I'm not sure.

Dad's cleaning everything in sight.  I think that's how he's coping. 


I can't say much.  I'm knitting.

Imp's Gryffie scarf is about halfway done.  I'm really not liking that stupid scarf.  But it's my fault for knitting the thing in the round.  If I've done my math correctly, that silly thing will have well over 22,000 stitches by the time I'm done.  And over two skeins of red yarn.  I shouldn't have to use more than half of my gold.  I'm hoping, 'cause I haven't found more of that color.  Oops.

I had to stop knitting on The-Scarf-That-Just-Keeps-Going for about a month, month and a half or so.  I couldn't stand looking at it anymore.  I was dreaming of the damned knit stitch.

So, I went on to a couple just add gratification projects. 

Imp and I usually head out to the local Renn Faire each year (this year, not so much), and I have a corset that I wear quite proudly.  I have a shelf-life in the thing, too.  Hee!  That being said, I loathe purses like no one's business.  I usually carry my cell, debit card, ID, and whatnot in my pockets.  Only with the corset, that's really not possibly.

I do have cleavage.  I can carry my cards in there.  Which I have done and then gone fishing for them much to amusement of the Rennies.  That doesn't bother me.  They are very polite.  Perverted senses of humor--which is why I fit in with them, but polite.  What I don't like is the fact that I can read my debit card number from my chest.

So...I made a bag!  It's big enough for my cell, my camera, my cards, my sunglasses, Burt's Bees chapstick, extra batteries, probably some Aleve, and probably some sunscreen.


I had gotten the yarn, some Berrocco Lustra from a swap over on Ravelry, and had no idea what it would grow up to be.  Literally no idea what so ever.  Then I realized that the blue of the yarn would pick up some of the blue in my corset.  Score!  Since I knit this up at the college, it took my a little longer.  Maybe two days.  But I only knit for 45 minutes to an hour at a time.  So...

My next Just Add project was a Momma's Day gift.  Mom adores turtles.  We have a menagerie of turtle figurines out in the living room.  Imp and I have fun looking for unusual turtles to add to her collection.  So when I found a pattern for a teeny-tiny Mirco Turtle...well, yeah.  I had to.  Add to the fact that she also loves blue, and I was set.  See: 

I call it 'Talullah'.  Grandma saw it and wants one in brown.  I have some Knitpicks Comfy Sport cotton in Fedora, so that works.  She's getting one.

But I'm going to get back to my evil, evil scarf.  I think that scarf unravels itself some each night.  I really do.