she's just saying...

3.14

It's Pi day!  I've been contemplating titles for this post: Thank God it's Pi Day, I love Pi, Pi in the Sky, etc., and I hit on this:

It's Pi Day! Be irrational!

No Joe for me

Really? That's all you've got? One suggestion? You guys would be duds at the Comedy Club!

But, one's all I need. I shall now riff on Trader Joes, since I don't have much more to say about rice than I said here. I never did buy the rice cooker, btw. I realized that my heavy faux-Calphalon does just fine. One more appliance not to store.

Now to my stand-up routine. Trader Joe's. What is it about Trader Joe's?  [Pause for laughs.] Do they slip drugs in their 2 Buck Chuck or something? The place is a cult. When I lived in LA, it was truly freaky. You'd compliment someone on their crackers and they'd get all excited: "I got them at Trader Joe's!" People would open their cupboards and pull out bags of food and say "Look what I got at Trader Joe's!" Weird. You never hear people say "Look what I got at Safeway!" Right? It's a store, people. You didn't have to brave the Amazon to get those Turkey Cilantro Mini Wontons and the Gluten-Free Flax Seed Toaster Waffles.

Bend got a Trader Joe's a few years ago, to much buzz, anticipation and excitement. I'm going to confess something here: I've never been to it. To me, the place is suspect. Weird private-label packaging, Hawaiian shirts, overly happy people, I don't know. There's something not quite right about it.

And about that Two-Buck Chuck. "It's just as good as the expensive wine!" No, it's not. You just can't tell the difference.

Thanks, I'll be here all week! Don't forget to tip your waitperson.

Improv-a-blog*

There I was, posting along so regularly, feeling smug compared to other slacker bloggers, when I hit a wall. I need a topic! So,let's pretend we're in a comedy club (minus the heckling,thank you) and do some improv. Shout out a topic and I'll do a quick post on it. Ready? Go!

* Ahem. That's not improve-a-blog, okay?

An imperative date

This falls on a Friday, so it's a Friday Frylet!

A Calendar Riddle:

Question: What date in the calendar is also an order?

Answer?

60,000 people looking for chicken sweaters, and also reading my blog

At 5:18 pm PST yesterday, someone from Modesto CA arrived at my blog via a Google search for "chicken gizzards." (Boy, I'll bet they were surprised when they landed on this post.) Anyway, my site meter says that they were the 60,000th visitor to the site.

However, in recognition of #1 Sister's determined efforts to be the 60,000th visitor (she's competitive and a wee bit obsessive, a winning combination), she will get the prize that I didn't even know I was offering. By her observation, she was #60K. I can't explain the discrepancy - it's one of teh interwebs mysteries.

And yes, an analysis of search queries (thanks, Google Analytics!) shows that most people were looking for information on knitting fowl outerwear. It's an amazing world, with a lot of cold chickens in it.

This is the last chicken sweater photo I will ever post. I mean it!

The Lost Dogs

It must be dog week on this blog. Caution: this post is going to deviate from my usual light-hearted banter, so be warned.

I just finished reading "The Lost Dogs: Michael Vick's Dogs and Their Tales of Rescue and Redemption" by Jim Gorant.

It's a gruesome story, but also heartwarming and hopeful.  Much of the book focuses on the process the dogs went through to be evaluated, socialized and (most) eventually adopted. The dogs' desire to be "good" dogs, the work they did, the trust they gave and the love and joy they found is deeply moving, and highlights the rescue and redemption mentioned in the title.

The gruesome part is what the dogs went through at the Bad Newz Kennels. And who was involved, and how he's now celebrated by everyone from the Humane Society to NFL fans and President Obama. That would be Michael Vick of the Philadelphia Eagles, this season's "Comeback Player of the Year."

A USDA report stated that Vick personally electrocuted, strangled, drowned, and shot dogs. He wanted losing dogs killed rather than given away. He hanged dogs from trees, electrocuted them with jumper cables, held them underwater until they drowned in his swimming pool, and even threw his own family dogs into the fighting pit to be torn to shreds while he laughed.

psychopath
A person afflicted with a personality disorder characterized by a tendency to commit antisocial and sometimes violent acts and a failure to feel guilt for such acts.

Is he a psychopath, and has he reformed? I don't know. Michael Vick didn't stop fighting dogs because he saw the error of his ways. He operated his dogfighting ring for six years and only stopped when he was caught. He denied all involvement and confessed only after others blew the whistle.  His carefully-worded repentent statements certainly sound like the work of his p.r. team.

I would like to believe in second chances. But there's a difference between offering a second chance and a multimillion-dollar NFL contract. And now sportswriters and others are calling his standout playing comeback a redemption. If he never played after jail, would he not be redeemed?  And what does how well you play a game have to do with moral or ethical redemption?

I can't say if he's reformed or been redeemed. I can only look at what he was capable of and go from there. And on the positive side, having someone so high-profile involved in dogfighting and abuse has brought it into the national consciousness, and the results have redeemed pitbulls in some peoples' eyes.

It's complicated. However, this gives me chills:

In an interview with NBC News, Vick said he wants a dog. "I would love to get another dog in the future," Vick said. "If I ever have the opportunity again I will never take it for granted. I miss having a dog right now." What part was taking dogs "for granted?" And what part does he miss? 

OK: let the comments begin! Please know that I'll delete any racist, profane or just plain obnoxious ones. 'Cause it's my blog.

Dog Park Etiquette

1. Show interest in other owners' dogs. Exchange compliments, comment on something special they do, pat and love their dog. They'll do the same.
2. It goes without saying: pick up after your dog.
3. Corollary to #2: Look up from your phone enough to notice when Fido is doing his business. I'm talking to you, owner of the young black lab with the red collar last Tuesday.
4. Extra points for scooping random poop not originating from your pup. It's good karma. And dogma.
5. There will always be owners who don't think your dog is good enough to associate with their Speshul Preshus. Ignore them.
6. Balls are communal property. Don't bring one you don't plan to leave.
7. When a dog misbehaves, smile sympathetically then avert your eyes. Helpful suggestions are not appropriate.
8. If your boy is a humper, do your best to distract him when he starts. You may need to be vigilant - it seems to be an irresistable habit regardless of humpee's gender.
9. It's perfectly acceptable to have a warm exchange with another owner, then wander off without introductions or goodbyes. In fact, it's preferred. It's all about the dogs.
10. If you have a dog who tends toward "assertiveness," train him to keep his rope in his mouth at all times, like Bacon here. 

 

I'd like to thank the Academy

Just in time for tonight, the Oscar Speech Generator.

 

Just you wait...

Twelve years ago, in a mini-mall far away (re-post)

I republish this post every year on our "Gotcha Day" as they say in adoption circles.

Where babies come from: between Domino's and the dry cleaners

Twelve years ago today, in a non-descript office in a non-descript mini-mall in Humble, Texas, a social worker placed a little baby in my arms. I stared down at him staring up at me. I recall my first thoughts were: "You've got so much hair!" followed by "You're so dark!" followed by "I can't believe they're giving me this baby!"  I'm sure Henry was thinking the same things, as he looked astonished, frankly.

My big brother Steve and I had driven from Austin to Houston that morning to "Go Get Henry!" as Steve's map was titled. I had warned him about the religiosity of the Texas adoption agency and he was prepared for whatever came up. (Another couple I knew were invited to pray before they received their child.) We met with the director, who commented on how wonderful it was that my brother lived in Texas and was able to accompany me. My brother, who is an imposing character with a deep voice, proclaimed loudly: "It was meant to be!" Satisfied I was acceptable, she closed the deal. I handed over a check and they handed over Henry.

They let us leave, baby in arms (I was expecting alarms to sound) and we walked off into our life together.

Knitting stereotypes: smashed!

Some random sitings at the Madrona Fiber Retreat.

Knit sweaters are all shapeless bulky and itchy.

Habu: Japanese handknit designs fashioned from finely-spun metals, paper, silk and wool fibers. Drapey, deconstructed and divine...

 

Knitters are boring goody-goodies.

A portrait of Stephanie of the Gothsocks that I've written about previously, black-striping yarn with colors like "Dark & Twisty" and "Zombie Prostitute."   She has a huge cult following and sold out her entire booth at Madrona in the first half-hour. And yes, that is her real hair color (inside joke, sorry).

 

Knitters are frumpy.

I couldn't take a picture of her as I was sitting right by her, but sitting in the lobby next to me was an elegant and stylish woman with thigh-high boots, sleek up-do, trendy glasses and a martini glass motoring along on a drapey piece of knitting. Extra points as she was reading a book as she was knitting, sitting under an original Chuck Close painting. There were also a number of young urban trendies with tights and combat boots, tattoos and tiny tank tops, spinning on wheels and knitting intricate socks. No photos - I was too shy.

 

Men who knit must be effeminate girly-men.

Meet Charlton, my tablemate in the "Advanced Cables" class. After we discussed the Bosox spring training prospects and he dissed Carl Crawford (!), he got out his tools and got to work. On size 1 needles. I was impressed

My latest crush

He's cute, he's nice, he's hip and he can really knit. Jared Flood of Brooklyn Tweed. Of course he's young enough to be my son, or at least a kid I once babysat. It's not that kind of crush. Much. He's an incredible designer and photographer and teacher and the coolest guy. Go check out his work. It's okay, I'll wait.

I took two classes with him today: "A Taste of Lace" and "Advanced Cabling" which were very enlightening, and if you ask me nicely I'll share some of my new-found wisdom with you over a glass of wine.

Here he is enlightening us about steeks, a frightening technique where you cut your knitting right up the front without fear.

Here we are after class. Whew, made it through the scary part!

And he inscribed my copy of his book, Made in Brooklyn, but I can't share that with you 'cause it's private. Sigh.

OK. Time to go dream about all things wool.

Tomorrow: knitting stereotypes shattered! Stay tuned.

Must have been the yarn fumes

So happy to be back in the land of the Spiritual Room Service Menu! I think this time I'll order up the body pillow with the Tao Te Ching, or maybe the Bhagavad Gita. I'm not even sure that that last one is. I'm going to arrange them all on my bed before my as-yet-unknown roommate gets in. That'll freak her out!

Yes, I'm back at the Hotel Murano for the Madrona Fiber Arts Retreat, my fourth year here. More crazy knitting ladies wearing their handmades. This time there's a lot more. The hotel, a 20-something floor nouveau remade of an old Sheraton, is completely sold out. So is the rest of Tacoma - we hear that there's a wrestling tournament and a cheerleaders' convention in town as well. My suggestion: all three groups get together in one convention center, make new friends and learn new skills. We could cheer on a knitting throwdown! Whoo! Who's with me?

Anyway, I went by Lollipop Cabin's booth to collect my pay for doing a sample knit for her and this is what I picked out:

Not sure what got into me - this is pretty rainbow pastelly, or what we call in the knitting world "unicorn barf." I love love love it though. No idea what I'll make out of it. Maybe a cuddly lap robe, 'cause it's unlikely I could ever wear these colors out in the world.

And here's the answer to the question I posed about the pronunciation of Ialiuxh, the first name of the very cool yarntrepreneur behind Lollipop Cabin: it's ill-ay'-uh. No one even came close.

More yarny goodness to come. I'm off to my first class: "Designing your own stitch patterns." Another useless skill to add to my repertoire! Wish me luck.

Where is everybody?

The gorgeous & impressive Gina Marie Lindsey Entrance Hall at Seatac, always completely empty when I'm here.

Still life w/o power

the night the lights went out

Due to a wet & heavy overnight snowfall, much of Bend was without power all day. We still are out at our house. But the blog must go on, so I'm laboriously pecking this out on the teeny-tiny keypad on my phone. Sentences will start getting shorter & simpler. We're okay here - don't worry about us. We have hot water, a pot of soup on the stove, several warm pets to cuddle with, and Facebook on the smartphone. Plus Henry has a few hours left on his laptop for an offline game or two, so he won't have to resort to reading or playing cards with his mom just yet. Centuries have knitted by candlelight before so I'll just pull out the needles & hunker down.

Happy Valentine's Day

Here's to true love, wherever you find it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday Frylet - literally

From Utterlyboring.com, an entertaining local website:

It's A Lot Warmer Today Than I Thought It Was Going To Be...

...but nothing like the 133° that KTVZ currently is reporting:

"KTVZ pulls the data from the National Weather Service beacon at the Bend airport, and obviously knows there's an issue. But it makes for some interesting graphs on the NWS feed from there:

Apparently the high in the last 24-hours was 176°. Looking at that graph, it looks like a nuke went off east of Bend."

You'll never sleep alone...

I'm single, yes, but I don't sleep alone. On any given night, there are one or more other sentient beings sharing my not-big-enough queen-sized bed. These can range from a 10-pound cat to a 100-pound Henry. This morning five of us ended up there together, everybody sleeping peacefully except the owner of the bed herself. Tonight I'm locking the door.

Who could say no to this face?

Reading about knitting

A measure of one's obsession with a hobby is the number of books you read on the subject. Fishermen read fishing books, gardeners read seed catalogues, travelers read travel guides, etc. I read about knitting. How boring have I become, really?

I have to confess that for me reading about knitting is sometimes a way of procrastinating from actually doing it. That might seem confusing to non-knitters -- if I love to knit so much, why would I procrastinate? -- a behavior which I frankly can't explain.

Knitting book titles tend to lean heavily on bad puns, especially the knitting/mystery sub-genre, for example:

Dropped Dead Stitch, A Killer Yarn, Skein of the Crime (which is confusing: I've always pronounced "skein" as skane, not skeen), Sins and Needles. I've never actually read any of these - I like my mysteries more gritty than twee.

Then there are the instruction and pattern books. A sampling of titles:

Dominaknitrix: Whip your knitting into shape  Fun book, but I couldn't find one pattern I'd actually wear in it. It's going into the swap pile for my knitting group.

Knitting outside the Socks. Groan.

Hattitude Lots and lots of hats.

Knitting with Balls: a hands-on guide to knitting for the modern man. I wish I knew someone to gift this with.

Knitting for Barbie: 75 Fabulous Fashions Please shoot me if you ever see me with this.

And my favorite, though I doubt I'll ever take up this technique:

Knitting with Dog Hair : Better a sweater from a dog you know and love than from a sheep you'll never meet.

The blurb reads: "Stop vacuuming and start knitting! Learn to recycle Rover into beautiful garments and accessories as the authors teach you this wacky new spin on an old craft."

I hope they warn you to never get caught in the rain.