Log Bloggin Halloween

It's Halloween and I'm finally home after a long day of meetings ready to see some ghosts and Batmen. I cast on a log cabin thinggy the other day and finally took a pic:














I'm a little bit anxious about the whole right side/wrong side thing since it's all garter ridge and how the heck can I tell which side is which.

Livin' Large in the Hood

I'm fond of noting that I now live in the hood. This is evidenced by the number of vehicles parked in some peoples' yards, the fact that our neighbors have never taken down their christmas lights. There's the eternal din of emergency vehicles and the neighborhood crime report.

But this is photographic evidence of the ghettoness of my hood.












What we have here, you see, is a UHaul trailer from Indiana hauling a car filled with all someone's earthly possessions -- a car I might ad that one might question the gas cost of towing several hundred miles. It was parked right there in front of my house for quite some time.

In other news I finished the basketweave scarf but in a fit of poor bloggeriness I forgot to take a finished object picture before I gifted it on Saturday.

I cast on for a Log Cabin blankie. I am knitting with the most wonderful organic cotton. Pix to come.

Midnight and Raining

It's midnight and it's raining. I guess that's appropriate because it's really too late to blog and probably not the right climate. Tomorrow we're going to the second memorial I've been to this month. We always say that people who die are good, right? I mean like, generally one gets a pass for being a bit bitchy on her wedding day. (Not that I would know anything about that.) And every baby gets called beautiful or handsome. And unless you were utterly ghastly in life, you get remembered kind of sheepishly as "good, kind, thoughtful".

So what do we do or say then when truly extraordinarily "good, kind, thoughtful" people are gone. How can we make people understand, "No really, these guys were people who had the ability to change the way you felt about the world." These were people absent of malice, who loved you without you doing anything to earn it. What if you can actually feel the balance of goodness in the world shift when they're not here?

Sucks, doesn't it?

Panacea Not Equal to MS Word

I am in mile 23 of a 26.5 mile marathon. Today I submitted an absolutely crazily huge proposal that I've been working on for the last 10 days basically non-stop. It was a good experience though, sometimes that kind of crazy project can be hell, but this wasn't too bad. When word came that we'd successfully made the deadline today, I began a stream of large sighs that I still keep doing.

Jac and I made our late afternoon geriatric shopping and dinner (can you call it that when you finish at 5?) crawl and I had a beer. Ugh, that little bit of formatting I just did was exhausting. I just have to say this and then I will stop talking about my job and proposal.

Microsoft Word is not a panacea.

Last night I got one sequence of the basketweave scarf done. Tonight I hope to get much much more done now that I am done with my... oh right. I promised.

Seriously, What Day is It?

It is Sunday, but it feels like a Thursday in a long, long, long week. Technically, I suppose my birthday was last week, but it felt more like a birth hour. Mostly I worked my keister off. On Friday, we headed to the river - I with bags full of work to do... Or so I thought.

I have been using a magic portable hard drive to get stuff done at work and home. On Friday, I managed to forget it at work, 135 miles away from where I needed it. I have two proposals to get out, pretty much pronto and being hard driveless was not a good thing. So Jac and I packed up early this morning and left the river and went to my office so I could get the "life simplifying" portable hard drive.















I did manage to get in some more knitting on the basketweave scarf over the weekend and all the way back from the river today. Jac says he likes the pattern. Hmm, perhaps I'll have to make him something in that pattern.

A bit of work later, and I may be out of my friggin' mind to say it, but I think I am caught up. I think for the first time in 10 days I can do whatever I want tonight without guilt that I should be working.

This month, this season is absolutely flying by and that's bumming me out because this is absolutely my favorite time of year. Some mean old lawn mowing man vacuumed up all my chestnuts from under my favorite trees - robbing me of my Martha moment. Too many people have made leave of the earthly world this season keeping us in memorial services instead of in their company. And now the month has nearly come to an end - I can tell because the World Series is underway.

I could go for a very long, slow, mild, boring November.

Happy Birthday, You Have the Right to Remain Silent

Oh luscious. It's my birthday. Happy birthday. I have to admit my birthday is inconvenient this year. It's on a freaking Wednesday - I have no idea the last time it was on a weekend, I think it was an eternity ago. I had a big work project due today and I'm in the middle of several more that need to get done - so much so that I should really be working, not blogging right now.

Jac gave me some rockin' birthday presents even though he wasn't supposed to because we are penniless fools.












We went out to dinner for the SUPER geriatric early bird special and then we pointed in the general direction of the gourmet grocery to see if there was a birthday dessert to be had. Jac fumed at the idiots ahead of us blocking traffic at The Big Intersection. The Idiots were turning left at the light despite the sign that clearly prohibited that from 4-6pm. Grrr, we growled as we waited behind a line of cars waiting to make the illegal turn. Jac new a short cut a few blocks beyond the light that would accomplish the same thing legally.

Alas, when we reached the light we could scarcely believe our eyes - the whole intersection was clear, wide open, not one car coming from the opposite direction - so, what the heck. Jac made the left turn.















That ass belongs to Ofcr. R . Ordinarily, I am all for anonymous asses, but Ofcr. R. gave us an $86 ticket for turning left...on my birthday. Ofcr. R, that's just wrong.

Her zealousness at writing up four of us scofflaws let this marauding band of jaywalkers take the streets clearly against the signal.

















But, it was fine because I found a decadent birthday dessert at the grocery store - granted it cost $86 more than I thought it would. AND, I got two more spiffy license plate pix.

The Microfame Continues

Look at that, it's our Hanley cousin speaking up for the wo-man.

Death, Taxes and Spam

Well they say that nothing in life is certain except for death and taxes and based on my experiences with both in the last two weeks, I can add spam to that roster. After news of at least three untimely passings in the last weekish and last night's 11th hour completion of Mr. and Mrs. Jac Smacky's taxes (yeah I don't like that either but I figured I'd give it a shot, trying to put a little of Jac in the blog) - on the eve of the extension deadline, and after checking the email of my departed family member and discovering the lack of immunity to spam for those not logging in remotely - yes, spam is inevitable.

The weekend was, as hoped, beautifully crisp and sunny and pretty. Jac's parents trekked over for a visit and we had a very nice visit. And since we have birthdaystravaganza in October, we both got gifted, gifted good. For me that meant sassy knitting goods and scrumptuous cookbooks.












Which are things that I love. Work is going to kick my ass this week and luscious distractions like these are just what a girl needs when she's going to spend her birthday on conference calls. Ah well, at least it's not apple picking. Which reminds me, remember how excited I was about harvesting the fall chestnut harvest at the river? Well, dream on sister, the lawn care people mowed my damn chestnuts. Gotta do something about that.

This is also the time of year that I start getting all nostalgic for the idea of carving pumpkins. Enough time has passed to make me forget about how much I hate carving pumpkins - about the disproportionate amount of time spent carving goop and the disappointing outcome of my 3rd grader caliber carving. But maybe I need to hook myself up with some Funkin fake pumpkins. Maybe at the after Halloween sale. Though Jac and I might have to get out of the house that night if we don't stop visiting the candy bowl that we kind of intentionally bought early knowing there would be nothing left but Milky Way Midnights and Sugar Babies.

I finished the bubble gum scarf this weekend, but since I also made pot roast, gingerbread, a raft of different muffins, sweet tea, and did work work, and entertained the in-laws, and chased down several feral houseflies, and scanned a hundred family photos, I get another couple days to take a picture of it.

Moronblogging: Second Ice Age

On Friday afternoons, Jac and I whip out of town as fast as the molecular make up of our bodies will allow. We barely stop to make sure each of us is in the car before whipping past the monuments and over some bridges and down to our merry country retreat. But more often than not, events conspire to keep us stuck in place far longer than we could have thought.

So Friday afternoon, I slipped into CVS to pick up a prescription I'd dropped off hours before. My visit went something like this. Wait. Wait more. Wait. Wonder if I'll be out in time to vote in the next presidential election. Wait.

A woman at the front of the line was buying heaps of boxes of cold medicine - like 7 boxes - and no, it was not the kind you make crazy drugs from. And she had to have a whole broken conversation with the cashier about it. Then she started picking up random items at the counter - curse the "impulse buys" and asking the cashier how much each of them cost. This went on for several lunar cycles. Eventually she took her prescription in hand. The pharmacy chick said, "You apply this three times every day, okay?" The woman responded, "Just use once right." Well, you can imagine how the circle went back and forth. Then she wanted extra plastic bags. And she wanted to use a bathroom. And she wanted to know more prices of random crap. And the two people in line ahead of me shifted their weight from one foot to another over and over - they got a pretty good work out.

Finally, the woman left the line and sat in the little waiting chairs and started distributing the items in her bag among her price extra shopping bags. Then she followed an employee to the staff bathroom.

If it is TOO CHALLENGING for you to pick up your prescription without completely destroying the time-space continuum, you need to stay home and have your drugs delivered by mail.

There's a Reason the Weekend

Whew! I am so happy to see Friday afternoon arrive. We are headed to the river and it is crisp and pretty. It has been a s%!&& y week and I am glad to see it go. My friend did pass away yesterday morning, exactly a week after my aunt.

But, in the good news of the week, my wonderful friends H&J welcomed their second baby to the world -- quickly and safely. What an angel!

They sent pictures which are lovely but not at my fingertips right now. More to come.

Ah the Blogging

So my blogger template is muffed today. I am both working to fix it and considering setting up house somewhere a little more respectable. Bear with me.

Hey, That's Uncle Billy

Well look at that it's our very own Uncle Billy TV star.















Since roughly EVERY new fall show seems to, how shall I say, suck - it's totally worth it to head up the dial to SciFi territory and check out the fabulous SciFi Investigates? 10pm Tuesday and many, many other times. Tivo Season Pass baby.

Fall Flung

So my absolute favorite time of year, seasonally, is fall. What is not to like? You can wear almost anything in your wardrobe at some point during fall. The air feels crisp and new. And can we just talk about the food for a second? I mean this year is especially funny because of the spinach and lettuce chaos. They put a quick end to the salad days of summer. Now is the time for root vegetables, mmmm. And apples - which, 16 years later I am almost ready to pick again.

This fall is so bittersweet though as each day seems to bring more news of human frailty. Today I have thoughts for my brave friend who has been so tenacious against AIDS for nearly 20 years. Where is the seasonal respite where we can just kick around in the leaves and have a slice of pie?

Last night Jac and I celebrated his birthday (yes, again :) ) with dinner. I knit all the way there and all the way back, even frogging more rows than I care to recall when I took "Mistake Rib" too literally. Jac surprised me with a knitting reference book as an early birthday present. Our birthdays are nine days apart which makes October one long party for us.

Happily, his parents are coming for a visit this weekend. I am conjuring up a menu of autumn comforts.

One Woman with a Lot of WIPs

What happens when a woman picks up and heads for the airport for a week of unpredictability, stress, and sorrow? Well folks, that's a lot of WIPs. On the needles I left here the mocha latte stripey thing that Buzz was so infatuated with...
















and the basketweave scarf. Last seen at the Silver Diner last weekend.
















Now, knitting on a plane provides special challenges - not least of which is getting through security with said knitting. So I pulled together some luscious Debbie Bliss cashmerino and a circular needle and cast on. On the plane and in the first couple of days in Atlanta I knit and knit. It was heavy and warm, just right for my Uncle Charl who lives in New York - a place that could theoretically get cold enough that a person would want a scarf that dense and warm.

On Tuesday we went to the hospital and then I needed yarn. We went to Why Knot Knit in Buckhead Atlanta. It was just what the doctor ordered. Being somewhat credit deprived, my sister stepped up and loaned me some plastic elastic to make a luscious stash haul. I got some organic cottons and a new bubble gum inspired Debbie Bliss SoHo wool. Oh, and some autumnal Mission Falls wool. Oh and some more circular needles to expand my mobile knitting empire. The store was delightful, the kind of place a girl could really get used to.
















I finished Charl's scarf and cast off. I had to improvise clipping the ends to sew in with nail clippers so I hope it stays together. I had to take the requisite photo in the lovely Hampton Inn on my bedspread so the picture is attrocious.



















This afternoon I cast on the bubble gum into what else, a scarf - what can I say, when I am away from the computer and the knitting books a scarf can be done without any pattern at all. I am doing the bubble gum scarf in "Mistake Rib" since I found someone else had made a scarf with SoHo in an odd numbered rib pattern which makes just some of the ribs match up which is cool.

But WIPs aren't all I've been collecting. I have just prematurely become a genealogist. I've assumed guardianship of 25 years of research done by my dear aunt. So in between knits I have to find some time for second cousins twice removed.

And of course, my favorite WIP, by wonderful husband. He turned 35 today. He rushed into the room to show me this buzzard resting on our hurricane-fallen tree stump with its wings outstretched. It perched there like this for several minutes. I just managed to find my camera and snap a shot before he took off. There were several more large buzzards in the tree above him. Wonder what's so interesting down on our shore.

every day as though it were the last

Margaret Mary Ewing
December 9, 1958 - October 5, 2006

Apparently Not

I don't even want to write this, but I am sitting here with nothing else I can do. Apparently, my beloved aunt is not going to have the chance to kick cancer to the curb. The thought of this is just devastating. A month ago she came up for a visit and we had a lovely day together. Now, I don't even call because they say it's very physically painful for her to take a phone call and also I can scarcely face the idea of her trying to put on a brave face talking to her niece. I have plans to go see her this week, but we don't have any good picture of the future. News from Atlanta is sporadic and often incomplete and confusing and it's frustrating to feel and be so very far away. I hate the limbo this causes - in life struggles, and even in death there are things to be done and they provide some reassurance, some function for each of us, but uncertainty and silence well, suck.