she's just saying...

Fiberfill-y

Made it to Madrona! It's at the Hotel Murano. There is a lot of cool art here, plus this horse wearing a lampshade. We've been shopping at the Market - filled with fiber artisans selling their handspun yarns, handmade spinning spindles,glass needles (not for the butterfingered), etc. We're just about to go into our afternoon workshops. I'm not at my sharpest after driving last night, early this morning, and wandering around boothes inhaling yarn fumes. Got to get focused for intricate cablework: "Viking Knits."

slow slog through sloppy snow

Made it to Portland on our pilgrimage to the Madrona fiber mecca. Five hours of driving over the pass through the snow in the dark. We're toast!

The (not-chicken) whippet jumper

Still needs some alterations, but very handsome!

I see some fiber coming my way

Tomorrow afternoon my friend Hildy and I are headed up to the Madrona Fiber Arts Winter Retreat in Tacoma, Washington. I attended last year for the first time, and I remember how mortified I was to tell people that I was going to a knitting conference. This time I'm fine with it, which says something, I guess.  It's billed as a retreat, but it's really a conference, in that there are hundreds of people, banquets, workshops, a vendor market, etc. all in a big moderne hotel.

It's a pretty funny scene, as there are loud and raucous knitters of all shapes, sizes and ages knitting furiously everywhere. In the restaurants, at the bars, lounging around the lobbies, drinking and knitting into the night. (Plus spinners, who I don't really socialize with.) Quite a colorful bunch. I'll post photos for sure.

My classes look to be challenging and varied:

Basic Viking Knits
Latvian Wristers
Short Row Wizardry

I had to take Latvian Wristers just so I could say the name a lot. Sort of like Buddy the Elf saying "Fernando." Latvian Wristers.

Can't wait!

Latvian Wristers, courtesy Beth-Brown Reinsel

Peppermint Teacake, a.k.a. The Black Gimlet

REAL NAME:
Melissa Trier Hochschild

WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s and father’s middle names)
Elizabeth George

NASCAR NAME: (first name of your mother's dad, father's dad)
Lester Moritz (could it be more perfect?)

STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name)
Hoc Me

DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal)
Pink Kitten (This should actually be my porn name)

SOAP OPERA NAME:(middle name, town where you were born)
Trier Fox Chapel

SUPERHERO NAME: (2nd fav color, fav drink, add "THE" to the beginning)
The Black Gimlet – yeah, baby!

FLY NAME: (first 2 letters of 1st name, last 2 letters of your last name)
MeHo (very fly, actually)

STREET NAME: (fav ice cream flavor, fav cookie)
Peppermint Teacake (not so much street cred)

ROCK STAR NAME: (current pets name, current street name)
Flash Albany ROCKS

PORN NAME: (1st pet, street you grew up on- OR- state you grew up in)
Cracker Field Club ( And this should be my detective name)

GANGSTA  NAME: (first 3 letters of real name plus izzle)
Melizzle

GOTH NAME:(black, and the name of one of your pets)
Black Bob (probably better than Black Muffin)

STRIPPER NAME: (name of your fav perfume/cologne, fav candy)
Gio Fudge (pronounced “Jo”). Hot.

---------------------

You guys have to try this - it's mindless fun, and who doesn't need more of that?

Post your best names here!

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Their commercials suck, too.

Escape from Antcatraz

The inevitability of this post was set in motion the moment the ants arrived in their tube, ready to get busy and start farming.

They've actually been pretty lethargic ever since they realized that their frenetic digging and tunneling ended them up in the same blue gel, a few inches away. Since then, they've hung out down in the clubhouse, apparently on strike. If we open the lid and blow softly on them, they get stirred up and run around for awhile before the futility hits them again and they go sulk.

Things being how they are in a (almost) ten-year-old's room, it was surprising it took this long for a flying stuffed animal to knock the farm off the bedside table and upside down on the floor, with a crack in one corner and the lid knocked sideways. Screams of panic brought me tearing into the room, where instinct caught hold and I started stomping on escaping ants. (I justified it to Henry by saying it was illegal to let them loose in the wild and we'd start an epidemic.)

We probably ended up with 8-10 casualties, a paper towel stuffed into the hole and the ants taking attendance and reconstructing their gel towers. Henry doesn't want them in his room anymore, and I have to say I spent the next half hour brushing imaginary ants off my arms and legs.

Everyone's a little shook up from the event, and I'm counting on a knock on my bedroom door at 2 in the morning due to nightmares about ants swarming over the bed.

Baby Surprise

Ha! Got you there - this is a knitting post! This is an iconic pattern called the Baby Surprise Jacket.

Isn't it cute? Photo doesn't do it justice. It was a ton of fun to knit. (If that phrase confuses you, I'm guessing you're not a knitter.)

For Clementine, Henry's Big Brother's new baby.

95 movies

Monkey in a box tagged me for this on Facebook. I love it when people provide grist for the blog mill!

First of all, this is a really odd list - I have no idea what the criteria were for these particular movies to be included and others not. Except, they all seem to be the 32-screen cineplex kind, vs. the highbrow stuff I watch. Yeah, right. I did get to 95...

Some of these are kind of embarrassing to check off, but I credit those to in-flight movies where there's no escape. And having a kid. He's old enough now that I can drop him off at the theater, so my count is going to start to lag.

Okay, here goes:

SUPPOSEDLY if you've seen over 85 films, you have no life. Mark the ones you've seen. There are 239 films on this list. Copy this list ... put x's next to the films you've seen, add them up, change the header adding your number, etc. etc.

You're supposed to tag others, so I'll tag my blog buddies over there on the right. You know who you are. And Bill. And Mark.

(x) Rocky Horror Picture Show
(X) Grease
(X) Pirates of the Caribbean
(X) Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest
( ) Boondock Saints
( ) Fight Club
( ) Starsky and Hutch
(X) Neverending Story
(X) Blazing Saddles
(X) Airplane

(X) The Princess Bride
( ) Anchorman
(X) Napoleon Dynamite
( ) Labyrinth--
( ) Saw
( ) Saw II
(x) White Noise
( ) White Oleander
(x) Anger Management
(x) 50 First Dates
( ) The Princess Diaries
( ) The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement
( ) Scream
( ) Scream 2
( ) Scream 3
( ) Scary Movie
( ) Scary Movie 2
( ) Scary Movie 3
( ) Scary Movie 4
(X) American Pie
( ) American Pie 2
( ) American Wedding
( ) American Pie Band Camp

(X) Harry Potter 1
(X) Harry Potter 2
(X) Harry Potter 3
(X) Harry Potter 4
( ) Resident Evil 1
( ) Resident Evil 2
( ) The Wedding Singer
( ) Little Black Book
( ) The Village
(x) Lilo & Stitch

(X) Finding Nemo
( ) Finding Neverland
( ) Signs
(x)The Grinch
( ) Texas Chainsaw Massacre
( ) Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning
( ) White Chicks
( ) Butterfly Effect
( ) 13 Going on 30
(x) I, Robot
(x) Robots

( ) Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story
( ) Universal Soldier
(X) Lemony Snicket: A Series Of Unfortunate Events
( ) Along Came Polly
(x) Deep Impact
( ) King Pin
( ) Never Been Kissed
( ) Meet The Parents
( ) Meet the Fockers
( ) Eight Crazy Nights
( ) Joe Dirt
(X) KING KONG

( ) A Cinderella Story
( ) The Terminal
( ) The Lizzie McGuire Movie
( ) Passport to Paris
( ) Dumb & Dumber
( ) Dumber & Dumberer
( ) Final Destination
( ) Final Destination 2
( ) Final Destination 3
( ) Halloween
( ) The Ring
( ) The Ring 2
( ) Surviving X-MAS
(X) Flubber

( ) Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle
(x) Practical Magic
(x) Chicago
( ) Ghost Ship
( ) From Hell
( ) Hellboy
( ) Secret Window
( ) I Am Sam
(x) The Whole Nine Yards
( ) The Whole Ten Yards

(x) The Day After Tomorrow
( ) Child's Play
( ) Seed of Chucky
( ) Bride of Chucky
( ) Ten Things I Hate About You
( ) Just Married
(x) Gothika
( ) Nightmare on Elm Street
(x) Sixteen Candles
(x) Remember the Titans
( ) Coach Carter
( ) The Grudge
( ) The Grudge 2
(X) The Mask
(x) Son Of The Mask

(x) Bad Boys
( ) Bad Boys 2
( ) Joy Ride
( ) Lucky Number Slevin
(x) Ocean's Eleven
(x) Ocean's Twelve
(X) Bourne Identity
(X) Bourne Supremecy
(x) Lone Star
( ) Bedazzled
( ) Predator I
( ) Predator II
( ) The Fog
(X) Ice Age
(x) Ice Age 2: The Meltdown
(x) Curious George

(X) Independence Day
( ) Cujo
( ) A Bronx Tale
( ) Darkness Falls
( ) Christine
(X) ET
( ) Children of the Corn
( ) My Bosses Daughter
( ) Maid in Manhattan
(x) War of the Worlds
( ) Rush Hour
( ) Rush Hour 2

( ) Best Bet
( ) How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days
(x) She's All That
( ) Calendar Girls
(x) Sideways
(X) Mars Attacks
( ) Event Horizon--
( ) Ever After
(X) Wizard of Oz
( ) Forrest Gump
(X) Big Trouble in Little China
(X) The Terminator
(X) The Terminator 2
(X) The Terminator 3

(X) X-Men
(x) X-2
(x) X-3
(X) Spider-Man
(X) Spider-Man 2
(x) Sky High
( ) Jeepers Creepers
( ) Jeepers Creepers 2
(X) Catch Me If You Can
(X) The Little Mermaid
(X) Freaky Friday
( ) Reign of Fire
( ) The Skulls
( ) Cruel Intentions
( ) Cruel Intentions 2
( ) The Hot Chick
(X) Shrek
(x) Shrek 2

( ) Swimfan
(X) Miracle on 34th street
( ) Old School
( ) The Notebook
( ) K-Pax
( ) Krippendorf's Tribe
( ) A Walk to Remember
( ) Ice Castles
( ) Boogeyman
( ) The 40-year-old Virgin

(X) Lord of the Rings Fellowship of the Ring-
(X) Lord of the Rings The Two Towers-
(X) Lord of the Rings Return Of the King--
(X) Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark
(X) Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
(X) Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

( ) Basketball
( ) Hostel
(x) Waiting for Guffman
( ) House of 1000 Corpses
( ) Devils Rejects
(X) Elf
( ) Highlander
( ) Mothman Prophecies
(x) American History X
( ) Three

( ) The Jacket
( ) Kung Fu Hustle
( ) Shaolin Soccer
( ) Night Watch
(X) Monsters Inc.
(X) Titanic
(X) Monty Python and the Holy Grail
( ) Shaun Of the Dead
( ) Willard

( ) High Tension
( ) Club Dread
(X) Hulk
( ) Dawn Of the Dead
(X) Hook
(X) Chronicles Of Narnia: The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe
(X) 28 days later--
( ) Orgazmo
( ) Phantasm
(X) Waterworld

(X) Kill Bill vol 1--
(X) Kill Bill vol 2-
( ) Mortal Kombat
( ) Wolf Creek
( ) Kingdom of Heaven
( ) the Hills Have Eyes-
( ) I Spit on Your Grave
( ) The Last House on the Left
( ) Re-Animator
( ) Army of Darkness

(X)Star Wars Ep. I The Phantom Menace
(X) Star Wars Ep. II Attack of the Clones
(X) Star Wars Ep. III Revenge of the Sith---
(X) Star Wars Ep. IV A New Hope
(X) Star Wars Ep. V The Empire Strikes Back
(X) Star Wars Ep. VI Return of the Jedi
( ) Ewoks Caravan Of Courage
( ) Ewoks The Battle For Endor--

(x) The Matrix
(X) The Matrix Reloaded
(X) The Matrix Revolutions
( ) Animatrix
( ) Evil Dead
( ) Evil Dead 2
( ) Team America: World Police
( ) Red Dragon---
(X) Silence of the Lambs
( ) Hannibal

Well, I hit 95. More than Monkey.

Long division, the coin jar, and our tax dollars at work

I just spent the last hour and a half teaching the basics of long division, again. In that time, we did five fourth-grade division problems. And once again, I ended up hauling out the penny jar, counting out 47 or 65 or 128 pennies and helping Henry divide them into camp tents, soup pots, and ounces of milk, trying (again) to demonstrate the concept of dividing one thing into another.

I realize my boy has some kind of learning obstacle when it comes to math, or actually, arithmetic. He will appear to grasp a concept, then the next night seem to have never encountered it before. I know that his teacher (who I think is great and deserves a hero award) has to deal with this daily, times 27 kids take away 2 remainder 4 carry the 1 and subtract the divisor. His school has pulled together a "care team" meeting for him at least four times so far, consisting of the principal, his teacher, the special ed teacher, the counselor, the school evaluator, the school nurse, the janitor and me to discuss how he's doing and where to go next. I'm very impressed and grateful that our public school system is so thorough and is not letting kids fall between the cracks. But honestly, it's not helping.

The meetings are good, honest and efficient. The thrust, however, is that the school would rather not approve him for an IEP (individual education plan), which would trigger evaluations, tests, paperwork, follow-up meetings, accommodations, monitoring, and all kinds of state and local red tape that they would have to deal with. I realize they're overworked and overwhelmed with kids needing help. But, none of that matters when I have to explain the basic concepts of division at 7 pm on a school night while needing to do laundry, dishes, pet care, baths, cleaning, paying bills (and, of course, blogging!).

At one point tonight, after counting out 128 pennies and then putting eight of them into one of 16 cups, the thought crossed my mind that what the hell am I paying my taxes for, if I have to end up teaching school every evening. Now remember, I'm a knee-jerk, bleeding heart liberal, and I believe in taxing the citizenry for the common good and that the government is best equipped to manage our public resources. But, damn it, it's not working for us. And I'm in a very well-managed and well-funded school system.

What about the families who can't spend the evening re-teaching the basics? If they have another job, other kids, a sick parent, addictions, food "insecurity," no home or just no ability? How the hell do we expect our kids to learn enough to divide a gallon of milk into 16 cups?

Well, I certainly don't have a solution. I'm just realizing the problem. Henry's starting to hate school, feel like a failure, and turning negative. It will take all the effort the school can provide us to keep him positive and motivated, and I welcome the help. We can't afford a private tutor, so they're all I've got. I just pray it's enough.

A lot of testosterone, and not just on the field

Am I becoming an old fogey? (Don't answer, really.) The Superbowl ads, with a few exceptions, struck me as gratuitously violent, demeaning to women and just plain incomprehensible. And I'm in the industry.

Women's clothes got ripped off on the street, they were spied on in the shower, they were verbally abused by flowers, they argued over their enhanced boobs, and Mrs. Potato Head's mouth was thrown over a cliff. Jeez. Of course, random men were hit by bats, snow globes (Henry's all-time favorite spot) and buses, skied into trees and got thrown out of windows. Oh, and a panda koala got repeatedly punched.

A lot of anger out there, folks!

Of course we had the Clydesdales, though they seemed a bit forced. The e-Trade baby came through again with a new friend (though I thought even he was uncharacteristically cranky in the golf spot), and the Dylan/Wil.i.am spot was truly a classic. A lot of imagery there - I need to find that one and watch it again.

The Ed McMahon and MC Hammer spot for Cash4Gold.com was horribly sad.

Meanwhile, I'm transferring my domain name from Go Daddy. They're just stupid.

 

And what the heck???

Complete and total reboot

That title refers to the computer hell I'm in right now. The only good thing is I've made a very nice new friend at Dell, named Eugene. We bonded over a multi-hour phone call. Unfortunately, he lives in central Florida, so I can't get him to come over and work on my computer more, but I know where to find him.

But couldn't that title refer to life? Would you want to reboot and start over? You could clear out all the junk programs and shortcuts that no longer work. Clear that overstuffed memory. Start out with a fresh operating system. Even find a new drive.

OK, I think I've taken that metaphor as far as I can this morning. Time to get to work.

Memories of steel

I grew up in deep suburbia outside Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in the '60's and '70's. My memories are sort of hazy about my adolescence, but I do remember how the Steelers permeated everything in the city back then.

I had zero interest in football and no loyalty to Pittsburgh, while I lived there or after I left. My family didn't fit in to the Italian, Polish, Irish Catholic, and WASP Presbyterian mix of our neighborhood and the city. No one in my family played sports, watched football or could have identified the names Franco Harris, Joe Green, Terry Bradshaw etc. My father was a German chemist who smoked a pipe, my mom a New England farm girl with an occupational therapy degree. Opera and symphony played from the hi-fi, and all we did (and all we still do when we get together) is read.

It swirled all around me through high school, though: throngs of gold and black hats and jackets everywhere, the billboards blaring DEE-FENSE on the freeways, the Pointer Sisters singing "We Are Family," Iron City Beer commercials with the players, Superbowl mania and loud cheering hoards.

As soon as I graduated, I left Pennsylvania for Vermont and never went back. My family moved away and I tried to forget I spent my first 17 years there. I can't claim to be a Steelers fan (or even a Pirates fan, god help them), but there are some stirrings of loyalty and memories of a shared culture that I can't deny this weekend. So, Go Steelers, I think, and look for our High Desert Museum commercial after the first quarter if you're local.

The Audacity of [giving up] Hope*

*With apologies to B.H.O.

My friends and readers know that I've been in a relationship (supposedly over) for the last four years that has at its basis the understanding that it has no future. Nonetheless, I've been hoping for a different outcome all this time. This post is about giving up that hope.

The phrase "giving up hope" usually has a negative connotation. It's a surrender, a failure.  But today I suddenly saw it as an affirmation. For me, it's the acceptance of the present, the act of choosing reality over an ephemeral possibility.

In what state would I rather exist: wishing, waiting, worrying, wondering whether something might occur, or deciding that I like the way things are without it?

This doesn't mean that I don't still want it.  If the rat chooses not to push the lever that may deliver a shock in order to get the treat at the end, it doesn't mean he doesn't still want the treat. (And it doesn't mean I feel like a rat, though I might empathize with him.) I don't know how to consciously change a desire, and I'm realizing that that is not the best use of my energy.

That was where my thinking was faulty. I thought I needed to not want to be with him, and was despairing of ever not caring. But it's that I needed to choose to give up the hope that we'd work things out. The anxiety is gone now. I'm not giving up, I'm choosing to accept the present (without him in my life) and enjoying that peace.

OK, for those of you with a short attention span or no time, you can stop reading here. For those who would like to meditate on this further, here's a better writer than me about it.

          Pema Chodron, the Buddhist nun and teacher, puts it this way:

"The first noble truth of the Buddha is that when we feel suffering, it doesn't mean that something is wrong.  What a relief.  Finally somebody told the truth.  Suffering is part of life, and we don't have to feel it's happening because we personally made the wrong move.  In reality, however, when we feel suffering, we think that something is wrong.  As long as we're addicted to hope, we feel that we can tone our experience down or liven it up or change it somehow, and we continue to suffer a lot.
         The word in Tibetan for hope is rewa; the word for fear is dokpa.  More commonly, the word re-dok is used, which combines the two.  Hope and fear is a feeling with two sides.  As long as there ís one, there ís always the other.  This re-dok is the root of our pain.  In the world of hope and fear, we always have to change the channel, change the temperature, change the music, because something is getting uneasy, something is getting restless, something is beginning to hurt, and we keep looking for alternatives.
         In a nontheistic state of mind, abandoning hope is an affirmation, the beginning of the beginning.  You could even put "Abandon hope" on your refrigerator door instead of more conventional aspirations like "Every day in every way I'm getting better and better."
         Hope and fear come from feeling that we lack something;  they come from a sense of  poverty.  We can't simply relax with ourselves.  We hold on to hope, and hope robs us of the present moment.  We feel that someone else knows what ís going on, but that there ís something missing in us, and therefore something is lacking in our world."

And finally, she writes:

"When we talk about hopelessness and death, we're talking about facing the facts.  No escapism.  We may still have addictions of all kinds, but we cease to believe in them as a gateway to happiness.  So many times we've indulged the short-term pleasure of addiction.  We've done it so many times that know that grasping at this hope is a source of misery that makes a short-term pleasure a long-term hell.
         Giving up hope is encouragement to stick with yourself, to make friends with yourself, to not run away from yourself, to return to the bare bones, no matter what's going on. [my emphasis]  Fear of death is the background of the whole thing.  It's why we feel restless, why we panic, why there's anxiety.  But if we totally experience hopelessness, giving up all hope of alternatives to the present moment, we can have a joyful relationship with our lives, an honest, direct relationship, one that no longer ignores the reality of impermanence and death."

 Excerpted from When Things Fall Apart:  Heart Advice for Difficult Times, by Pema Chodron

 

Random comments (25 of them)

Several blog/facebook friends (more on that topic in another post) have tagged me for this random things meme. I'm hesitant to do it, as it seems so self-centered (not that my blog isn't), but the masses are demanding it, so...

25 random things about me

1. I hate bell peppers. Any color.
2. I have a "hangman's thumb" - a short, stubby digit that is an inherited recessive trait. It looks kind of like a big toe on my hand. I used to be very self-conscious about it as a kid.
3. I sleep best in total darkness.
4. I'm a really good cook, but I don't like to share my recipes.
5. I can only remember phone numbers by the pattern they make on the dial pad. Or I use a cool utility to turn them into words.
6. I'd choose vanilla ice cream over chocolate, even in a milkshake.
7. I have two tattoos, one of which is visible in a bikini.
8. The only carbonated beverage I like is champagne, and an occasional glass of Deschutes Brewery beer.
9. I've never been very confident on a bike. I regret this.
10. I was an ACE-certified instructor and used to teach aerobics at Joey's Gym. (thanks, Dee Dee!)
11. I can speak, read and/or understand French, Italian and Spanish, at varying levels of competency.
12. I can change my front headlights.
13. I have scuba-dived (dove?) to 250 feet. It was a dumb thing to do, really.
14. When I was 10, my family lived in Mexico City for a year.
15. We had a rooster for a pet there. We left him with our maid, who hopefully didn't eat him.
16. I would love to own farm animals.
17. I got a perfect score on the verbal GRE tests for grad school. (So did my brother.)
18. However, I don't remember my times tables. (We're working with flash cards.)
19. I secretly believe that Henry's stuffed animals have feelings.
20. I love supermarket birthday cake, especially the frosting.
    
21. I kissed a girl and I liked it. Really stupid song though.
22. An old boyfriend and I once made out on a lifeguard tower on Venice Beach in the middle of the night.
23. Only three more! I like stale Peeps.
24. I set up the wireless network in my house by myself, including two TIVOs.
25. I own two TIVOs.

Note: I had a farm animal poster on here but it gets an inordinate number of click-throughs from google images, so I deleted it. What's with that anyway??

sacrificial mouse

Liana's prize for being the 7000th visitor to the blog.

Don't you wish you had won?

A special bottle

  Last night, Neighbor X and I shared a special bottle from his "library" to celebrate the inauguration. (Wine snob alert, but he really isn't. He just collects great wine.) He made me a wonderful dinner to go along with it, and we had a pleasant and warm evening just enjoying each others company again.

I know, I know, everyone's alarms are going off.  It's ok, I'm fine, and I appreciate your concern. But it felt like the right time to take that step, and it turned out to be.

It was a healing experience, as they say. What I always appreciated about him is all still there. I'm certainly not ready to be his buddy -- as I told him four years ago, I don't need another buddy. But he holds a special place in my heart and my life, and I want to be able to think of him in a positive light, and let the bitterness dissolve.

It's all about change for the better, right? Slowly and carefully, tempering hope with realistic expectations, finding our way along to a better place. Here's to our new president, and a time of healing and growth. Cheers.

To clean or not to clean: is that really the question?

Once again, I'm losing the battle in my fight against the evil axis of clutter, dust bunnies, projects and piles of paper. (I realize that there's a direct inverse relationship here: the greater my knitting and blogging output, the messier the house. I don't know why that should surprise me, but it just dawned on me tonight. It was during the thought process: "Geez, this house is really a mess... I think I'm going to finish that baby jacket. Or wait, maybe I'll just write about it!")

I really don't want to spend all my "free time" (ha) cleaning, but I'm not comfortable with the level of disarray that results. I'm conflicted. I blame it on my mother.

I grew up in a messy casual home, with piles of clothes and papers everywhere and toast crumbs and jam spills on the counter. As a reaction, as an adult with my own place, I strive to have the kind of home Henry's friends all seem to have, where visitors can drop in any time, there aren't hammers sitting on the dining room table and everything is tidy and spotless (albeit a bit dull, IMO).

On the other hand, clutter is in my genome, and cleaning isn't. So I have a constant tug of war with cleaning up and making a mess, picking up and spreading out. Sometimes I'm on the winning side and the house hums with organization and rectitude. Other times, it veers dangerously into the hovel state. Which is where it is now.

Back when I had a non-non-profit income and a house cleaner, all was under control. I had to pick up regularly for her (a family tradition: "Clean up for the cleaning lady!" which we thought was ridiculously funny.) Frankly, it was great. A lot of money went toward that peace of mind, which is now unavailable (the money and the peace of mind). 

After a full day of work, gathering Henry, cooking dinner, doing dishes and the inevitable homework/bed wrestle, cleaning is the last thing I want to do. So I wipe off the visible part of the counter, shuffle papers around, cart stuff from room to room and move piles from chair to floor, not making much of a dent.

But here I am, writing to you, and I've made a lot of progress on the Baby Surprise Jacket:

taking shape

Priceless

Hearing my sweet boy saying "Yes, we can!" as he falls to sleep...

seven oh oh oh

This should be the day that this blog reaches 7,000 visits (see Sitemeter count below left). If you comment, I can tell if you're the one.

There should be some sort of prize, I guess: how about a custom hand-knitted catnip mouse?

Or maybe a coffee cup cozy for the feline-deficient. Your choice, number 7000.

Of course, since roughly half those visits were to find information on poultry outergarments (I'll never type those dreaded words again), I should knit one of those for the winner. But please don't make me.