Get in, sit down, shut up and hold on.

Cuz it's fall, and that means it's time for the crazy bidness of life to resume. I have said before that our fall is like the spring after a long, nasty winter. Everyone wants to get outside, to plan things, to be active. You snow-dwellers come out of icy hibernation in the spring; we desert rats emerge from heat-induced torpor to crisp fall days. (Note: not yet - we have another week of 100+ at least.) Add to that school, lessons, activities, friends, and the impending holidays (denial will only get you so far, people) and I can't actually think of a single weekend between now and November that doesn't have SOMETHING going on. Of course, if we recognize that we're really only about five weeks out from November, my busyness seems less worrisome, but more worrisome is the question of WHERE THE HELL DID THE YEAR GO?

Ahem.

This weekend T emptied his old place and we're officially combining residences. He kinda stayed here when I moved in and never left, which is rather how we liked it, but we've had the other place to pay bills on as well. His lease is up Oct 1, so last weekend we haule arse all his stuff out. We have lots of duplicates, so storage-unit sales and Craigslistings will be forthcoming. (BTW, you know how I hate shopping? I hate garage sales and such even more. DE. SPISE.) Especially since there are still things left in my house in Tucson that need to be removed and dealt with. (I hate "dealing with".) Yeah, I know, big problems, I have too much stuff. (I've been assaulted by the juxtaposition of headlines lately: obesity on the rise in America, children in flood-ravaged Pakistan starving to death. The observation of drowning in "too much" while so many have too little is coloring my attitude these days. I feel spoiled and bloated and disgusted by the fact that I'm complaining about it. That doesn't stop the complaining, though - it's what I do.)

Ahem. Again.

Lookie! Finished projects!


(In the interest of full disclosure, it's not totally done, but I had this condo to move...)

Ignore the parts that look like they were done by monkeys on crack, mmmmkay?
Mostly done by hand (the green-and-black border was machine-pieced), and I loved it. Applique soothes me, and hand quilting was loads of fun, even though I felt like I wasn't doing it right. Classes coming soon, once the household stuff is taken care of. I'm still working on finishing a quilt for Rick's father and grandmother, each, that were mostly pieced ages ago. I'm feeling the urge to knit once again, though, so it will be a matter of fitting in all that I want to do. Christmas is coming (yeah, I know, shut my filthy mouth) and I have some scarves to knit. (Someone told me I was not to buy them gifts so I am using the handmade loophole. Oh yes I am.) Suggestions for a manly scarf for a smaller, older gentleman who lives in a damp-but-not-freezing climate are appreciated. Preferably patterns that won't melt my brain from the boring.


So, since I have too much stuff and too much to do, I decided to get some more.



Meet Dream and Sickle (Icicle). Two 4 month old boys, my newest babies. T has never had pets, and I never had indoor cats (and no cats at all for 20 years) so this is an adventure. To say the least.

I'll leave you with a video of Bug, from a recent party for a friend. I lament the loss of the old standard party at the house, with some games and chips and homemade cake - now you have to rent jumping castles or trains or go to a facility with kiddie-sized roller coasters. (I swear, by the time Smacky is ten I'll be sending him on birthday trips to Disneyland for him and his 100 closest friends.) However, we went to Amazing Jake's last weekend, and he is the perfect age for it. He had a blast, and I loved watching him. He's a generally happy kid, for sure, but sometimes he radiates joy and happiness in a way that's palpable. It was the kind of Mommy moment I live for.

I know it's hard to believe, but when you subject this



to a five-year real-time aging test, you get this:



Happy birthday (yesterday), big boy.

Who are you and what did you do with Carrie's cheesecake?

So, I've been cooking lately.

I'll give you a minute to get up off the floor after that revelation.

Yesterday, I made this.  We pronounced it TEH YUM.
Tonight, I made this.  We pronounced it TEH YUM, AGAIN.  Even if I had to tell Bug it was pasta-chili-with-cooked-lettuce.

I mentioned recently about the reset button.  While I still hate cooking, it's gratifying to try new things and feel like I'm actually eating a variety.  I am an uninspired cook when it comes to making things up, but my recipe Google-fu is strong.  While I'm doing recipes, I should point you to this one.

*****

Something else I need to remember about the boys.  Smacky has a shoe fetish, and Bug still says "This is yours, and this is mines."

Knittas rockin'.

Last time I mentioned I was running the Komen race in October and asked for donations.  Less than 48 hours later my (modest) fundraising goal was achieved, and I felt all warm and fuzzy and supported and loved.  And recommitted to training, so I ran 3.25 miles on the treadmill (well, 0.25 miles of that were warmup and cooldown) to make sure I could do it. Well, and because I was behind on the training program I was supposedly following and was supposed to have upped my run to 40 minutes by now.  Which I did.  Oh yeah, I did it.
Anyway, don't avoid donating, if you're inclined to do so, because you reached my goal.  (In fact, my goal was to finish the race, and I feel confident that I can do that, now.)  Iffin you wanna, do go donate.  In honor of someone you know who has had breast cancer, or in thanksgiving that no one you know has.

Shameless begging.

Yup. I'm asking for donations. Oh yes I am. Because I just signed up for my first-ever 5K, which I will be running with T and two of my nieces (with the possibility that others will join too). This was the goal I set for myself in February, when I confessed to LeeAnn (after years of teasing her about sitting on the couch eating cheesecake while she killed herself running up mountains in the icy cold) that I had this urge to run. I think her response was something like

BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaahahahahahahahahahahahahaha now go get this book, read my treatise on good running shoes, find a good bra or six, and get your ass in gear, woman.

Yes, I think that's about how it went.

Anyway.  I did it.  I have since been running fairly regularly, first with a walk-run program, and more recently with a timed running program.  I am slow as molasses, I listen to audiobooks and laugh out loud whilst on the treadmill (causing nearby gym rats to look askance) and I turn bright purple while I do it.  But I do it.  (Except today.  I skipped today.)

So, pretty please, even though money is tight and there are floods in Pakistan and New Orleans still looks like hell and there are miners underground in Chile, won't you throw $5 at Susan Komen for me?

The Return of the Random

Yeah, who am I kidding? It's all random, all the time.

*****

For those of you lamenting the last days of summer before the crisp fall air brings color-changing leaves, frost on the punkins, dying grass and wool sweaters, I invite you to visit.



Ain't no fall here any time soon.
Sigh.

Fall is my favorite time of year - primarily because it's rare. On average, we get about 12 minutes of it, each year. (I suppose you could look at it a different way - we have several months of fall and no winter to speak of.) Fall is when we plant our flowers and seeds, open up the windows to the beautiful weather, sit on the patio with coffee and a book, go to the park with the kids and play. Summer sucks, my friends. (I swear if I had a job that allowed me to telecommute I'd leave town for 5 months of the year and go someplace with one of these mythical "nice" summers where people enjoy the weather and leave their houses.)



Nora? Joan? Bev?

*****

Turns out that the vague memory I had, about not putting pyrex dishes directly on the burner? Was something I should have listened to.



Bright side! The counter is spotless. And that pan I was trying to boil water in? I don't gotsta clean it anymore. (Note to self - when roasting something with a sauce, use Pam in the dish, for the love of little green apples.)

*****

It's really dramatic when a 13 X 9 glass pan of soapy, greasy water explodes.

*****

Still loving the appliqué. I'm almost finished with the snowman - I only need to find a scrap of orange for his little carrot nose, embroider the eyes and mouth, and it will be time to quilt him. This will also be my first attempt at hand quilting. If I like it and don’t suck at it, I'll be making that other bed-sized one, light greens in the background, appliquéd fall leaves, hand-quilted. I should finish it in, oh, 2014. (Hahahahahahahaha that’s funny. Try 2044.)

*****

Still have no knitting mojo. Have some cleaning mojo, but not much. (I don’t spring clean, I fall clean. Same reason – it’s the first time after a long season of being cooped up inside that I can open the damn windows and get some fresh air in.) I’ve been enjoying cooking more. T has a more varied palate than I do did, and before he got involved, the choices were pretty much grilled chicken or pasta with marinara. Since T came along I have tried new veggies, new recipes, new ideas, including allowing him to add stuff I would have sworn in the past that I hated. Mushrooms in the stir fry? Not my favorite, but it’s fuel and vitamins, so down the hatch it goes. Asparagus? Yum. Veggies on my pizza? Bring it. It’s like a year ago, someone hit the reset button on my life and suddenly I like all new foods, drink wine, exercise… Sometimes I don’t even recognize myself. In a good way. (I think the “reset button” was the level of grokking about life and its fleetingness I received that one ugly August day. A hard won lesson, that, but one that I managed to listen to. I don’t have to like the way that happened, but I can appreciate the results.)

*****

Got word yesterday that T’s parents will be flying down for Thanksgiving, which I believe will be at my place this year. That’s pretty awesome, methinks. If I start cleaning now, the place *might* be respectable by then. But I doubt it.

*****

Happy now?
(Added in response to comments: he's happy to be in the box, unhappy at having that &(*)@#$ camera in his face again.)

August is the time for not-knitting. Since I can’t access my own blog from work (am writing this in a word processor) I can’t go back and look for info, but I vaguely remember late-summer doldrums in many of the past years. I know that last year at this time my knitting was stalled out and I picked up an appliqué kit I had stashed. Well, I think there’s something going on here:

· First, it’s nasty nasty hot out there. (Forecast for today, 113º + 40% chance of storms = Teh Yuck.)

· Second, it’s all Elizabeth’s fault with the quilting.

· Third, I should have known better than to tell Lynn about it, cuz she offered a bit of encouragement, and then hearty laughter when I broke down and ordered a block-of-the-month appliqué kit. (It’s amazing how effective she is as the shopping accomplice even when she’s 100+ miles away.)

· Fourth, this is the time of year I start thinking about late fall and winter and wishing it was cold enough to need a blanket. For a reason I can’t determine yet, working on a blanket and wishing it was cold enough to need a blanket is better for me than working on a scarf and wishing it was cold enough to need a scarf. (The frustration of the B-Side sleeves is still fresh and taints the knitting of the OFA red scarf I have OTN anyway.)

I was having fun with my little snowman last year at this time anyway, but I put him down because I didn’t have the right color thread to do the stars and moon. Yesterday I stopped off at JoAnn’s, and $20 and some fall decorations later, out I came with my thread. Which turned out to be too light which didn’t matter because I had the right color after all and I dunno why I didn’t use it.

So, I am back to the snowman, and later in September I will begin to receive the blocks for the kit I ordered yesterday.



Now I just need to find a decent thimble.

And we won’t talk about the plans I have for the bed quilt…


Oh, and SOMEONE decided Smacky-In-Basket was insufficient. These will have to do - my phone camera is slow and the lighting was bad (and the kid never. sits. still.) so they're blurry, but you get the idea.

You asked.

I couldn't find or get one in an actual box recently (not for lack of trying - mostly for lack of photographic talent, and the fact that the family member who HAS the photographic talent has decided to stop shooting photos until he cleans up all the photos from our trip a few weeks ago).
He pulled this basket-drawer out of the stack for the express purpose of sitting in it, though. I dunno how long he was in there before I went to see why he wasn't making any noise.

Smacky, 20 months

Things I need to remember about Smacky, 20 months

A translation of Smacky-Speak

Smacky:	English:
Yaaaaaaaay	Yay!
Bah!	Ball, Grape, Any round thing that I can throw
Beeeeeeee	Bird, Puppy, Flower, Airplane, Daddy
Maaaa	Mama
Maaamaaa	More
Meh Meh Meh	I want whatever I just chucked on the floor and woe betide you if you do not get it for me, knowing full well I will chuck it on the ground again in 9.2 seconds

When I come in and open the blinds in the morning, you sit up, grin at me, then fall over on your face and pretend to be asleep again. I pick you up, get you dressed, and tell you, "Give Bubba loves." So you toddle over to his bed, throw your arms in the air and flop over on him, climb on him, snuggle on him, until he gives up and gets out of bed.
There is no music you can listen to without dancing. Sometimes you get so excited dancing you knock yourself over.
There is no box you see that you don't sit in. Sometimes for half an hour, contentedly looking out the window, sitting in the cardboard box with your puppy.
After I pick you up from daycare, if I leave the house to get anything else from the car, you scream bloody murder until either I come in or Daddy picks you up. Bubba stands there and tries to calm you by telling you I'm coming right back, and sometimes it works. I love to hear that little voice say, "See? I told you she'd come right back" and see you both standing at the door grinning at me.

um, what?

How is this possible?

Back to life, back to reality.

Sigh.
Back from Seattle, where it was warm and humid and sunny (DAMMIT) for days, only getting cold and rainy this weekend.  Loads of fun.  Prolly not going to give the rundown because there is too much to splain and I am too lazy to sum up.  Met T's family, though - lovely people.
Didn't finish the sweater.  Sewed one sleeve while there and discovered that while the body is actually larger than I expected, the sleeves don't fit at all.  One of three things:
a) I knit the wrong size.
b) I am freakishly proportioned where my arms are concerned.
c) The designer is freakishly proportioned where her arms are concerned.

I am going with c, myself.  I can't decide whether to:
a) Rip and reknit (AGAIN).
b) Knit a strip and sew it in.
c) Make it a B-side vest.

Bleh.

Happiness is...

• making visible progress on my second sleeve.
• seeing the gazillion year old dude lifting major weights and running on the treadmill at the gym.
• heading upstairs to see where T went, having gone up to tuck in Bug 20 minutes before, and finding them both asleep with Bug's arms around T's neck.
• heading to the gym here after 6 weeks or more away, and finding that I didn't lose any of my progress.
• the running euphoria that is coming back, that makes me want to giggle for no reason.
• the way that Smacky enjoys not only the taste, but the smell, the feel, and the sound of the cream cheese on his morning bagel, judging by the way that he gets it EVERYWHERE.
• the fact that, even when both kids are overcranky and it's hot and we are in the middle of shopping and everyone's a little snappish, T helps me keep my sense of humor and I really do love every minute of it.
• that for every afternoon like the previous bullet, there are 10 or 15 that are filled with giggling, laughing, wrasslin', dinosaur rides, castle building, book reading, baby-cheek snorgling, snorting, tickling, and general happy chaos.
• trees.
• leaves on trees.
• wind in leaves on trees.
• dappled light on ground from wind in leaves on trees.
• shade around dappled light on ground from wind in leaves on trees.
• the soothing sound of sitting in shade around dappled light on ground from wind in leaves on trees.
• rain.
• thunder.
• lightning.
• homemade sangria.
• store-bought beer.
• wine sales.
• emails about eggplant baby hats and HowIsItThere'sANeedleSizeIDon'tOwn?
• old friends.
• anniversaries.
• new friends.
• milestones.
• my big boy talking about going to kindergarten.
• my little boy, talking. o.O
• my love, talking, laughing, snuggling, sleeping, or sitting in companionable silence whilst (Hi Annie) engaged in our respective hobbies.
• making a friend snort milk out her nose with my low-brow humor.
• laughing.
• smiling.
• grinning.
• smirking.
• new favorite music.
• new favorite artists who play smartass songs.
• music that not only makes me sing along and dance, but that inspires me such that I realize I missed the details of half a set because I was daydreaming about fabric and quilts.  (It would have made a better story if I'd been in the mosh pit while I was daydreaming, but I'm only just doing the concert thing, so gimme a break, mmmkay?)
• the fact that T not only doesn't groan when I (or mostly Bug) mention Christmas, but he actively engages in the conversation and now we know where the tree will go, that the fake tree will be on the patio, and that there are all sorts of details I've wanted to do but never had time for, that I will now have aid and abetment for.
• baklava.
• hummus.
• green chile.
• snow.
• rocky road ice cream.
• iced coffee.
• chocolate milkshakes with bailey's and kahlua.
• good books.
• good music.
• good people.
• good food.
• good combinations of the above.
• new perfume.

This title intentionally left blank.

Sleeve #1 is done (again). During the increases, I continually thought it would be too short. The sleeve cap always surprises me with its length, and whilst knitting that I was sure it was going to be too long. Holding the unblocked sleeve up to my arm, it is long, and a touch too narrow. Blocking commences at eighteen-thirty tonight (aka, 630pm, aka, 12 seconds after I walk in the door from work). Assuming no major gauge changes when the sleeve hits the water (as I recall I washed the swatch and was okay) I think I'll be able to finish the other sleeve with enough time for finishing prior to our trip. Who knows? Maybe the bit of collar I plan to do will be my plane knitting. (Yeah right, like there will be plane knitting with the chillens around.)



(The picture was taken this evening - it is a touch long and a tad wide, but not so much that I can't work with it.  Better slightly large than slightly small.)

Anyway, the weekend was more or less lovely. There were some power struggles over food with his royal highness, Bug. Kid convinces himself that he doesn't like something, and even though he's eaten it (with abandon) before, he is so entrenched in the idea that it's yucky that he actually throws up upon taking a bite. Seriously. (Of course, when I pointed out that last night's dinner - a bastardization of stroganoff - was something his dad used to make him, he ate the requisite bites and no further vomiting ensued.) Smacky occasionally refuses food, but his technique is less subtle (yes, less subtle that vomiting) - he just chucks what he doesn't want on the floor. Sigh. I'd try a roomba or a scooba running under his chair during mealtimes, but I think I'll have to wait until such time as someone invents a robotic shop-vac.
Several of you commented last time about how Bug looks like such a big kid, and it's true - Thursday I went down and signed him up for kindergarten. Because he won't be 5 by September 1 (he misses it by a couple weeks) they had to evaluate his readiness, and listening to him answer the woman's questions about counting, animals, colors, etc...sigh. He was so big and grown up, and so little teeny boy at the same time... I can't believe my eensy baby is going to school.
Beyond that, not much is happening. The complex finally finished the pool remodel and the landlady got me the key last night, so we might actually get through this week of predicted-112-highs without melting or killing each other. I signed up for a gym here in town and will start (tomorrow) my next 10-week running program. I thought I'd have time to get in two programs before my intended race, but I looked just now, and it's just over 12 weeks away. That means that Christmas is coming, people. (I dunno why, but I always start thinking about Christmas in July - I think it's a combination of wishing for cooler temperatures, and the grudging recognition that here we are AGAIN in the latter half of the year and wherethehelldidthelastsixmonthsgo?) Saying it's July, Christmas doesn't seem that close. But the fact that a mere 10 weeks and we're at the end of September? We'll be roasting turkeys and singing Jingle Bells before you know it. Consider this your reminder that you're gonna wanna start thinking about your holiday knitting.
(And stop throwing those rotten tomatoes at me. I'm just the messenger. Besides, Lynn, your chickens need those.)

Last day of the first half.

Hey, I remember this stuff!

It's knitting, right?


I can't tell you how long it's been since I had a picture of knitting on this here blog.  (Well, I could, but I'm too lazy to go back and look.)  I actually got to do some of that this weekend whilst ignoring the still-unpacked boxes lying around the house.
Saturday morning after a leisurely, loooooong breakfast...



...T went outside and gathered the bikes.  With the "help" of the chillens, he fixed them up, pumped up the tires, tidied everything nicely, and got us all ready to go.
There's a lovely park near the new place, with a bike path that goes for miles and miles, past xeriscape gardens, ballparks, duck ponds (we saw a TURTLE!!!!!!! MOM DO YOU SEE THE TURTLE?!  THERE IT IS MOM DO YOU SEE IT? MOM! MOM!!! A TUUUURRRRRTLLLLLLEEEE) and it had been calling to me.  We helmeted up...
 

...strapped Smacky in the seat, and headed off, in the middle of the hottest part of the day.  It was a bit shady, which was nice, and we all remembered water and sunblock.  We didn't go far, as Bug's little legs and hard-used bike tire easily, but it was a high-point, for sure.  After a grocery-shopping trip (during which we discovered there IS a limit to what a diaper will hold, and it was actually SMACKY leaking from the cart and not any of the groceries) we got a babysitter, and headed out to the Rhythm Room for a CD release party.  We saw Chris James and Patrick Rynn (part of the Rhythm Room Allstars) who were joined by Big Pete Pearson.  Big Pete looks like Redd Foxx and BB King combined, and in his early 80s, he can still sing the blues and shake it.  Live blues? Rocks my socks right off.  (We bought the CD for Chris and Patrick, and Big Pete; I have only listened to the first one, but really, live blues has something intangible that is lost when you put it on CD.)
Sunday involved the boys playing camping outside (cuz nothing says fun like wrapping up in a sleeping bag in 108 degrees)...



while I tidied up the kitchen, mopped the floor (hooray for no-longer sticking), and discovered that my Dyson sucks, cuz it no longer sucks.  There was chocolate cookie baking, too.  (Chocolate crinkles, to be exact.)



After I ensured there was no heat stroke and finished my cleaning, I sat on the couch with a beer and my knitting, and people?  It was OH. SO. GOOD.  Sometimes I forget to relax when I know there are boxes to unpack, dishes to wash, floors to un-stick...  I will have to do a better job of taking time to have fun in the evenings.
Since it has been several days since I wrote most of this, I'll add a little more - yesterday we bought our tickets to go to Seattle for T's birthday.  We'll be gone for a whole week (in the hottest part of the summer, OH YES I'm getting out of dodge) visiting T's parents and celebrating his mumblemumble birthday with his family. 
Since we'll be heading to someplace that has decent weather and actual moisture in the air, I figured I'd better finish B-Side.  I'd knitted the better part of one sleeve and discovered that the gauge I'd used to recalculate the increases was suddenly no longer the right gauge, and 15 inches of (sport-weight) sleeve had to be ripped.  I ripped it out and threw it aside in a fit of rage and it's lucky I didn't tear it to bits with my teeth set it aside, but thought yesterday I'd like to have it done for Seattle.  Whaddya think - two sleeves, a button (zipper?) band and the making-up in a month?  (I'm not doing the shawl collar.)



We'll see, I s'pose.  I'll be giving it my best effort.  (Which is good because even though I bought more size 5 Options tips to replace the heinous, awful, OMGIhatethemsomuch Zephyr tips I was using, I can't find them, so the red Palindrome scarf is on time-out until I get bored with B-Side again finish B-Side.) And why no, I haven't been thinking about buying the extra beads I need to finish Madli.  No, not at all, and I haven't even been googling the website for that bead shop near work to see if I could get the seed beads I need.  Nope, cuz I'm focusing on B-Side and not even thinking about those other projects...  And under no circumstances was I thinking about destashing the brown Beaverslide I bought for Linden and getting something in red like I'd originally planned.  Nope, focused, that's me.

(Need to point out that all photos that are a) good, b) not of knitting, and c) don't actually contain T were actually TAKEN by T, and I had the audacity to post them without editing them in any way.)

Chapter: The Next

We are officially moved. Unpacking has been in earnest, cleaning has been undertaken (damn, how could I have forgotten my mop and ALL the myriad brooms and dustpans in Tucson?) and we are learning to use our new place to its best function. T showed Bug where his trains were, in the playroom, and sat with Bug and built a track together. Bug generally prefers to be where we are in the house, but now he hears the call of the trains, and he will go up and play alone for a while after dinner. The playroom? Best idea ever. His tracks are spread all over hither and yon in the room, it's a minefield of small trains and toys to step on, and I close the door and suddenly the upstairs is all tidy. LOVE. I just REALLY need to make sure that door is shut before I expect him to come downstairs to eat breakfast before school, lest I have to fetch him multiple times. The trains are strong in this one.
It's a smaller place than my house in Tucson, but there is more storage and less to take care of, and the master bedroom is HUGE by comparison. I have my whole fabric and yarn stash in the master closet and there's still room for clothes and shoes. Seriously, I am not much of a clothes/shoes person, but adequate closets have moved to the top of my List of Turn-Ons. I am nearly orgasmic over the storage space. (Yeah, I really am very excited about it. People, I have places to PUT THINGS now.)(Pictures later. Too lazy.)
Due to some things I don't want to talk about, and a case of food poisoning (mine) and strep (Smacky's), it was a rough first week, but the weekend made up for it a bit. We rode the light rail through town, went swimming at Grampa's for Father's Day, grilled salmon out on the patio, and generally enjoyed the first low-key weekend in ages. (When we opened up the packet of salmon, Bug saw it and said, "I don't like that!" I let him get away with it for a bit, then it occurred to me - he used to eat it all the time. I forced him to eat one small bite before he could have any more salad or corn, and he announced, "I LOVE THIS." He ate four more servings.)


On the train.

Work is going. I am still in the beginning stages - introductory projects, lots of reading SOPs, training, organizing. I think I will like it, though Ravelry, blogs, Facebook and messenger are all blocked from work. This whole working-all-day thing is TOTALLY overrated, especially when working = reading lists of FDA acronyms. Truly painful. My ability to keep up with blogs is severely curtailed, but I will be trying hard to catch up. I know you will forgive me a bit of skimming while I try to make a dent in the 150+ blog posts I have to read...

Still, nominally, a knitting blog, so I will point out that I live a scant few miles from Knit Happens, and I am currently knitting Palindrome for OFA in Swish DK. There, yarniness covered.

Hurdles

Are falling, one by one. I got the call tonight that the place I liked best last weekend has accepted my application, and I'll be meeting the landlord to sign the lease on Sunday.
Google Maps has this nifty application where you first search for a path or a location, and then, if you enter a business type in the search box, it finds all businesses of that type in the zoom-range of the map. I entered the address for my new place and my new job, then searched daycares, and found a list along any number of routes I can take. This Saturday I will be checking them out and finding the appropriate spot for my little princes. Besides my beautiful friends, the boys' daycare will be the hardest thing to leave in Tucson.
Today has been a crappy night, with the Bug acting weird and saying unusual things, the Smacky having a crappy fever, and my stomach in knots worrying about this move. I am excited, thrilled, looking forward to it, and terrified to step out of the cocoon that has been my comfort zone for 10 years. How do you explain to someone who hasn't experienced it, that sometimes you just need to cry out the toxic feelings? And how do you get the tears to come when they've been locked up for so long so they don't freak out your babies? I'd feel much better if I could remember where my copy of Steel Magnolias is.
(Incidentally, this is not me being maudlin or wanting you to comfort me. This is just a straight up report. My emotions have filled me to the brim and they need to spill out my eyes. No worries about me, really.)

***********

I have had this song stuck in my head all day.

And I'm glad the light still hits your face
And I'm glad every time you answer the phone.
For you, life and home have never been an easy place,
But I'm glad to be part of your own.

Sung by John Gorka; I'm sure you've never of him. I'm not entirely sure how *I* got one of his CDs, but I like it. This particular song is for his mother, and it has this air of melancholy about it that strikes me today. Beautiful, content, but a little sad. I think that's where I am today. Content with the choices I'm making, happy to be moving in the direction I've chosen with the people I've chosen, but still, a little sad. A huge chapter in my life is closing soon, and I would be a big ol' liar if I said it didn't sting a bit.
Fortunately I am close to The Fiber Factory so I know Lynn will be visiting...

Sparse.

The last weeks have been sparse, it's true. I haven't been on Rav much, haven't knitted much, haven't even commented on blogs much. I purged a whole list of them too, just in the effort to stop the demands on my time.

I can tell you my news, though - a few weeks ago, when I asked for some harnessing of the knitterly good will and cosmic power you *know* we wield? I had an interview for a job in Phoenix. I wanted the job, because I want out of Tucson, I want more time with T, my family is in Phoenix... a whole host of reasons. Then I had the first interview, heard more about the job, and the job itself moved to the top of the list of reasons why I wanted the job. :-D A few weeks ago, I had a second interview, and the following week (last week, in fact) I was offered the job.
Eep!
I accepted, I did a quiet happy dance, I waited a few days and gave my notice at work here in Tucson. I have one week left here, a week to pack and sort and purge and toss, and I start my new job on 6/14. (Seriously, the sorting and purging and tossing? I may have to rent a roll-off dumpster.) This weekend the boys and I are heading to Phoenix to hang with the fam and T and look for places to live. Keep your fingers crossed that we can find a place - I'm looking to rent for a while (so someone else is responsible for the unclogging of the drains and the fixing of the appliances) but finding a place that will accept my two remaining mutts is challenging, to say the least. Whether I find a place this weekend or not, next weekend will be about finding a daycare, and the following week, the one I have off, will be about packing up the house.
Eep!

Anyway, things are really wonderful here, I am happy, I am excited and looking forward to the challenges of the new job and getting to know my old city again (and having access to a nearby pool ROCKS ohyesitsoverymuchdoes). The Bug is excited too - he loves T and is excited to see him more often, and Grampa, and Uncle Monkey Butt and Tira Karen and the rest of them. (Smacky too, but he has no clue anything new is going on, other than the fact that Mommy is tense in the house and there's a lot of trash and interesting stuff to mess with everywhere.)

I doubt I will post again until after the move, or at least after the first day of work if I don't find a place right away. Don't worry about me, though - life is good. Thank you again for all your Vibes of Knitterly Goodness.

Gentlemen, we can rebuild her. We have the technology.

AKA, rebirth.

(Woo! More navel-gazing! Awesome! And to head off the comments before they start, no I DON'T knit anymore. I navel-gaze.)

Nine months ago today, Rick died. In the time it takes to grow a new human, I grew...myself. This post will be full of cliches and crap like that, and will include uncomfortable admissions. Prolly no rants, though Cookie and Joan and Nora have a lock on those this week.
Nine months ago today, my life ended. The life I knew was gone without so much as a gasp. It left me and my young sons and we were bereft. It was a Friday. There are whole hours missing from that day, but the images in my head of Rick, both before and after he was gone, will be with me forever. He was a strong, vital man who withered away before my very eyes, and the universe saw fit to take him away completely, for whatever reasons it felt like. Assuming there were any reasons at all.
Nine months ago today, this life I have now began. It started out with a great deal of pain and anguish, but also lots of love. Friends and family made sure I was taken care of, that beer magically appeared in my house, that the boys were fed and watered and exercised and taken to school, that the laundry was done. Having given birth once with no drugs (thank you very much stupid nurse who didn't talk to my midwife before countermanding the order YES I'M STILL BITTER) I can say that giving birth to my new life was more painful and took so much more labor. (See? bad clichés, I has dem.) Railing against it didn't help. Accepting it didn't make the pain stop. Avoiding it was only temporary. My friends, it sucked.
And then one day, it didn't. Not the whole day, anyway. I got a new job. I got some new friends at the new job, ones who weren't associated with any pain because they were part of the new life. (Not to say that I'm not blessed by my old friends, but avoidance is so much easier when no one around you knows you're avoiding, yanno?) I bought some new clothes, I took the boys to fun places, and I started to live this new life. Friends continued to make me feel loved and to let me know they were around for me. I had a few dates. I had a one night stand with a crazy Jesus freak. I remembered why dating sucks. I met someone wonderful and fell in love. I started going out and experiencing things I hadn't done before. I started running (yes, Nora, you read that right) and got new goals in my life. I took my babies and my husband's ashes and together we let him go. I came home to find my new love waiting for me at the airport, and realized with great relief that having love in my new life was fitting and right.
It's hard to admit this due to the implications of what I'm not saying, but here it is: it has been nine months, and in that nine months I have grown into a whole new person. I still have the occasional pangs, because this birth was different than others. But as Lynn said when I was wondering to her about how great I felt, "It's called grace, and when it shows up, you welcome it." My new life makes me happy. Not the same - never the same - but amazing, nonetheless.

Land of the Lost

Yup. Welcome to AZ, where you don't need a permit to carry a gun, but you DO need one to be Mexican.
ANYWAY.
Here is a list of the random crap that has been happening since I got back.
1) First of all, thank you for all the kind words about Rick's trip, and Peaches. To be honest, both were a relief and took a load off my mind. I fulfilled my promises to Rick and his family, and to Peaches too. Peach always did like Rick best. ;-)
ii) The rest of my time has been crazy busy. I know everyone says that, and it's mostly true - life quickens its pace in the spring and suddenly there are gazillions of things to do, even if (like me) you don't garden or do housework or any of those things. Bug is now playing T-ball, which is totally hilarious. Teaching these kids the rules of a complex game like baseball is hit-and-miss. Last game there were kids fielding the ball when they were supposed to be running the bases, one kid refused to hit the ball toward the field and instead hit it toward where the catcher would have been, and Bug decided he didn't want to run the bases unless I was in the field and challenged him to a race. Which I had to do whilst holding Smacky. The Three Stooges had nothing on these kids.



c) I recalculated the increases on the sleeves of B-side. I did this because my gauge was 8rpi and the pattern called for 9rpi. (I think - when I calculated it, following the increases as written would have resulted in a sleeve that was like 23 inches long.) I knitted to the end of the recalculated increases, prepared to knit a bit to reach 19 inches, and realized that my gauge had changed and was now spot on with the pattern, and my sleeve was now 4 inches TOO SHORT. 12 of the 15 inches of sleeve, ripped. Sigh. Took me a whole week to admit I'd done it. Haven't touched it since.

IV)I have big things happening this week. Nothing I can share just yet, but if you wouldn't mind, please harness your knitterly powers and send good thoughts aimed at me, that whatever is for the best will happen.

5) Please tell me when my kid got big enough to start learning to write.



six) Fear not, Smacky's still little enough to be weird. (This is pretty much where he spends evenings, waiting for dinner. He is NOT eating the dog food, just chucking it around the kitchen. I swear he has a stash of it somewhere.)



G) This is where my free time goes anymore.

RIP, Peaches

You were a sweet old beast.