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Presenting the winning prizes for my blogoversary contest.
For Monkey: Bob is testing out the catnip mouse here and deems it acceptable.
Here's KG's Koffee Kup Kozy:
Maybe I should quit my day job and sell knitted tchatchkes. You may place your orders...
I'm realizing that many of the posts I wrote last year can just be re-pasted as new entries.
Does that mean I'm in rhythm with the cycle of the seasons in my life, or that my life is really boring?
Whatever, it makes for easy blogging for lazy bloggers. And since most of you didn't read this blog back then, it's all new to you!
From last April:
Ah, Spring in Central Oregon!
Every C.O. blog is probably posting a similar thought today.
With fear and trepidation, I bring you a knitted chicken garment pattern. (Not a knitted chicken, but a knitted pattern for a chicken).
(For my newer readers, some back story: this blog catapulted in hits through search results after I re-published a BBC article about a woman who knit capes for rescued chickens. Much of my traffic comes from all those chicken-loving knitters out there, most of whom appear to live in England.)
I've never actually knitted fowlwear myself, nor am I a poultry farmer, unlike my blog friend Kathi D. (Gratuitous Kathi D plug here.)
However, since I seem to be a clearinghouse for the info, here's a free pattern. This knitter makes shawls for young chicks, and as she says, "the front two corners are tacked together, because chickens can’t use shawl pins."
Pretty cute, actually:
Now I just sit back and watch my traffic stats climb again.
I finally landed on a pattern for my tweedy shetland yarn that I've been stashing up for years, and I'm quite happy with it.
I forgot how fast things knit up on size 10 needles. It's an easy pattern with enough cabling to keep it interesting, and quite well-written. I had a question on one instruction and emailed the pattern company (Sirdar), and someone wrote back to explain the stitch. Nice, huh?
I'm going to cut down the collar to reduce the bat cape effect, but other than that, no modifications, which means I can mindlessly follow the pattern exactly, a rare occurrence.
Maybe this will be the mythical sweater project with none of the angst and doubt and disappointment I've experienced in the past. And if that sounds overly dramatic and even ludicrous, you're probably not a knitter.
and so it begins...
I'm guessing the Buddha didn't have pets.
Fundamental to Buddhist practice is sitting meditation. I practice somewhat sporadically these days, but it's an important, meaningful and refreshing activity for me (more like non-activity, really). However, it's a little hard to do with lovey, hungry, furry beings climbing all over me.
I like to sit just after I wake up. My pets like to eat just after I wake up.
They remind me of this by rubbing up against me, purring, grunting, dropping balls by my feet, scratching at the door, barking, meowing loudly, and just generally bugging me. Especially when I'm sitting on my cushion on the floor.
They're my little Bodhisattvas, enlightened beings who stay among us to help us reach nirvana ourselves. I'm guessing their message to me is to stay in the present and take care of others' needs first.
It's a frustrating but loving lesson.
Bob hogging the cushion, deep in thought.
You can tell that a blogger is scraping the bottom of the content barrel when you see posts like this.
You're supposed to fill in the blanks:
1. Apparently there's some sort of _____.
2. _____ sunny day.
3. 2009 _____ so far.
4. _____ that was it.
5. For too long I've been _____.
6. I am not obsessed with _____; I am not!
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to _____, tomorrow my plans include _____ and Sunday, I want to _____!
So here are mine:
1. season called "spring" though you wouldn't know it from Bend
2. However, it's a gloriously
3. has been pretty good, actually,
4. When he moved, I thought
5. short
6. knitted chicken sweaters
7. chardonnay, the Red Sox/Yankees game, lose five pounds
Seen at a market in Portland. A very fancy market.
This spoke to me in a profound way, though I'm unable to articulate why.
Anyone?
My mother used to say that it was a good thing that I had such perfect teeth, because my eyesight sucked. (No, of course she didn't say "suck"). My siblings and I all had glasses from an early age. I remember my first pair: they were pink with silvery sparkles. I loved them. Then I got sophisticated and moved up to the blue ones with sparkles. Finally in college I got contacts, and my social life picked up immediately.
Above is my eyewear wardrobe. Every day I get to mix and match.
1. From the front: stylish no-line sunglasses with reader lenses (for reading by the pool while wearing contacts).
2. My "regular" sport sunglasses (to wear with contacts)
3. Prescription sunglasses - kind of dorky because I had some old bifocals tinted, but they work.
4. My reading glasses that I wear OVER my contacts*
5. My prescription glasses
6. My contacts
*Because I'm extremely nearsighted while at the same time losing my ability to focus closely, my contacts correct for distance and I have to wear reading glasses to see the computer or anything else within four feet.
Sometimes I think I should give it all up and just wear glasses. But putting aside my fragile vanity, I see much better with contacts.
Myopia + presbyopia + astigmatism + glaucoma. I think I'd choose cavities.
(Speaking of jokes, this was once my brother's favorite cartoon: a large hot dog standing by his mailbox reading a piece of mail that said the title of this post.)
And speaking of jokes, didn't anyone like my rabbit joke? Or maybe it was too SUBTLE for you... you didn't get it but were too embarrassed to say so. That's alright - I understand.
Moving on and backwards at the same time, here are the official Blogoversary small knitted object winners:
(drum roll)
1. MONKEY and
2. KG
OK, men: what will you have? Catnip mouse, warshrag or latte snuggly?
Happy Easter! It's a sweet holiday, even for us non-Christians (or maybe especially for us, because there's no torture connected with it.)
Today gives me a chance to bring out one of the three jokes I'm able to remember. The other two have to do with drinking strings and an Irishman. But this one's my favorite.
What do you get when you pour boiling water down a rabbit hole?
Answer below:
These beautiful eggs are from the chicken flock at the Museum.
Why do we have chickens at a Museum, you might ask. Well, I'll tell you.
The museum has a "living history" component, in other words, actors who dress up in 1870's clothing and interact in character with the visitors. We have a homestead with a cabin, barn and stable where they hang out. Included are wild mustangs, heirloom goats (not kidding) and chickens. Therefore, the eggs.
Their subtle varied hues are so beautiful that we didn't need to dye eggs this year. We're admiring them til tomorrow, then we'll eat them and appreciate them from the inside.
So, I've been running this blog for a year as of today. Here are some stats:
Average visits a day: 75
Visits in the last month: 1867
Percent of visitors who are actually looking for rescued poultry hand-knit outerwear information: (guesstimate): 15%
Category with the most posts: knitting, followed closely by blogging and personal. It's all about me, folks.
Number of posts in the last year: 380 Sheesh. If you can't get quality, make up for it in quantity, that's my motto!
Posts that drew the most visits: An adoption memory
Number of comments in the last year: 833 (you guys rock!)
Post that drew the most comments (not including my own): six-word memoirs
I was going to run some link-back post-about-me contest for my blogoversary, 'cause that's the shameless self-promotional blogger thing to do, but it's too much work.
So instead, send me a comment, I'll pick two names out of a hat, and you'll receive your choice of my go-to knitted gifts: a catnip mouse, a coffee cup cozy, or a cotton warshrag, as Kathi D puts it.
You have til Saturday, but your chances are pretty darn good, as only about ten of you comment (sniff).
Given that tomorrow is my one-year blogoversary, I thought I'd share my thoughts on Why I Blog.
Saturday morning started with a long walk in the sagebrush with Mary and the dogs - an activity we've enjoyed for 12 years, on and off. Brisk and invigorating (Mary has long legs). I then brushed a pound of hair off the dog which always makes him all giddy and silly for some reason.
Mary (my occasional-housemate) has bought her own place so moved her stuff out of my spare bedroom. We'll really miss her, but I did gain back a room. I spent the rest of the day reclaiming it, moving in the Wii, books, knitting stuff, ironing board, etc. That was absurdly rewarding, and got me to organize bookcases, magazines, projects and knitting stash. As a result, my bedroom is now much less cluttered and more relaxing. I then finished every knitting project on the needles - a first in a long time. Mellow evening at home with a movie, Henry and his sleep-over friend, and a solitary sojourn in the hot tub.
Sunday I baked for breakfast, then had fun with the wet/dry vac for an hour or so. I discovered that it blew as well as sucked, so I blew all the leaves and needles from the winter off the deck, terrace and porch. Nice! Next I sucked out the old nasty pond water from the waterfall, found the leak in my liner and patched it. I filled the pool, set up and started the pump and was rewarded for all my hard work last year with the lovely sound of water down through the rock, between a trickle and a splash. (Not a trash really, how about a splickle?)
It was (unseasonably) warm and sunny, so I sat on the terrace, enjoying the waterfall, knitting lace and drinking Pinot Gris while 10-yr-old boys played baseball in the front yard.
And you know what? I felt incredibly happy, and at peace.
And to top it all off, baseball season started.
When they built my house, they installed an "Insta-Hot." It's an environmentally-incorrect clever little appliance set into the sink that delivers almost-boiling water whenever you push the lever. It's great for tea, coffee and really really hot water. They're absurdly expensive, which I didn't realize until I had to replace the first one. I feel a little guilty about the energy use, but it's one of those little luxuries I appreciate each time I use it.
Last night the lever popped off, and being the handy gal I am, I took it apart to fix it. It's a puzzle with a number of tiny screws, rings, gaskets and such, but I've done it before and it's pretty easy. Unless you drop one of the crucial little specialized screws down into the little hole where it lodges just out of reach of tweezers, needle-nose pliers, sewing needles, sticky tape and the poultry skewer, my go-to tool for the trickiest repairs. Fiddling with various screws and nuts, I loosened the wrong one and set off a high-pressure geyser of water that hit the ceiling and sprayed all over the kitchen. We were instantly drenched - thankfully it wasn't the really really hot water. I frantically turned off all the various water handles under the sink (hmm - maybe I should have done that first) and surveyed the disaster scene. I sat in the puddle on the floor and started to laugh, frightening Henry even further.
Everything was soaked. There was an inch of water in all the McCoy vases on the shelves, paint literally peeled off the window sill, all the little pieces of paper held by magnets on the fridge were ruined, my cookbooks got sprayed, you name it. At least the african violets appreciated it.
The geyser did have the desired effect of pushing the little screw out. After everything was dried off, put back and the walls wiped down, I set about fixing the Insta-Hot again. And promptly dropped the screw into the little hole again.
At least I can say my floor is clean now.
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