How many mice does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Two, if they are small enough.
Fuzzarelly is Back
Friday, February 15, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Do Not Enter
Sick as the proverbial dog. I'm a real snot bucket. It's a cold, merely, but I am on my back and dying.
However. The weather has been interesting. Again. Maybe five inches of snow, total, and despite today's forty+ temps, there is still a lot of it on the ground. there was ice, too.
The nights are blue bright, from all the reflection. I like it. I can almost do the evening barn bunny chores with no flashlight.
Finished the Sweetie Socks. Finally. I mean, really. This pair contains enough stitches and yarn for two pair of my socks.
I am quite proud of them, though. In spite of my troubles with the pattern, I think they look great. Have now taken up the purple cashmere shawl again. Under advisement, as the cold makes it difficult to count.
Sheila's babies are two weeks old and are adventuring. Tomorrow, I will have to find some sort of confinement for them. Maybe. Well, yes.
We'll see.
However. The weather has been interesting. Again. Maybe five inches of snow, total, and despite today's forty+ temps, there is still a lot of it on the ground. there was ice, too.
The nights are blue bright, from all the reflection. I like it. I can almost do the evening barn bunny chores with no flashlight.
Finished the Sweetie Socks. Finally. I mean, really. This pair contains enough stitches and yarn for two pair of my socks.
I am quite proud of them, though. In spite of my troubles with the pattern, I think they look great. Have now taken up the purple cashmere shawl again. Under advisement, as the cold makes it difficult to count.
Sheila's babies are two weeks old and are adventuring. Tomorrow, I will have to find some sort of confinement for them. Maybe. Well, yes.
We'll see.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Stir Briskly
About four years ago, I was planning the opening of my bricks and mortar store called Arts & Artisans. What a great time that was! I had paid a half months rent on the space and I was busy making signs and bringing in equipment, getting a credit card machine and insurance, contacting artists, - etc.
And my friend Jeff was dying.
Here in Lovely Laconia, there are not many people with whom one can talk about Philosophy, the Buddha, and Great Ideas.
Jeff was one of those souls that happen now and again, that are not firmly planted in the world as we know it. He was a free spirit in the very best meaning of the phrase.
He loved Indie movies and his cat, Lucky. Also good coffee. He wanted to have a little expresso machine in my store. I wanted him to be a part of my enterprise, since he seemed to have such an interest.
Jeff lived a few houses down from me; I could see his house from the kitchen window. Everybody in the world seemed to know him and he was universally beloved. He had a brain tumor at age 30. There was surgery, chemo and stuff. I guess it recurred several years later, and there was more surgery and chemo. And then again. He kept his secrets well. Lots o' pain meds and herbal medicine were what kept him alive and in this cosmic plane.
He had pirate satellite TV, with all of the movie channels. I loved to visit him to watch movies and talk about religion and philosophy. And things in general.
It was the third week of February, 2004, that I saw him for the last time. His mom had picked him up for a trip to the hospital in Louisville. I was checking the mail box as they drove by and he weakly waved at me.
The next day he was dead, at forty years of age.
I miss him.
And my friend Jeff was dying.
Here in Lovely Laconia, there are not many people with whom one can talk about Philosophy, the Buddha, and Great Ideas.
Jeff was one of those souls that happen now and again, that are not firmly planted in the world as we know it. He was a free spirit in the very best meaning of the phrase.
He loved Indie movies and his cat, Lucky. Also good coffee. He wanted to have a little expresso machine in my store. I wanted him to be a part of my enterprise, since he seemed to have such an interest.
Jeff lived a few houses down from me; I could see his house from the kitchen window. Everybody in the world seemed to know him and he was universally beloved. He had a brain tumor at age 30. There was surgery, chemo and stuff. I guess it recurred several years later, and there was more surgery and chemo. And then again. He kept his secrets well. Lots o' pain meds and herbal medicine were what kept him alive and in this cosmic plane.
He had pirate satellite TV, with all of the movie channels. I loved to visit him to watch movies and talk about religion and philosophy. And things in general.
It was the third week of February, 2004, that I saw him for the last time. His mom had picked him up for a trip to the hospital in Louisville. I was checking the mail box as they drove by and he weakly waved at me.
The next day he was dead, at forty years of age.
I miss him.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Skim Off Fat
Interesting weather here in Lovely LAconia. Are you familiar with the eastern curse - May you live in interesting times? It could just as well be - May you have interesting weather.
Yesterday, storms swept across the left middle states (Arkansas, Missouri) and kept going over the midwest. Almost fifty people dead. Thunderstorms, twisters, rain, hail, and wind wrecked havoc.
We be fine and shit. The sirens went off twice, and at the second wail I took shelter in the understairs closet for ten minutes. A piece of metal was torn off our barn and the burn barrel was knocked around. I've seen worse. But this morning, I looked out my kitchen window to the south, and saw what was left of my neighbor's equipment shed - less that a quarter of a mile away. The building had no doors, so it became an airfoil sometime around midnight. The high winds completely lifted it up off its foundation and then flung back down. Hard. Looks like kindling.
No one around here was hurt. Nor in Brandenburg, Kentucky, which is just over the Ohio River. Drove over there today to recycle (and to rubberneck, yes, I admit it.) Several signs, fences, and trees were down and power was spotty. Power poles were snapped in two or tilting at scary degree angles. Windows were shattered and roofs (rooves?) were missing or damaged. Brandenburg was pretty much leveled by a huge tornado outbreak back in 1974, so I bet the older folks were a little freaked.
Knitting News
I've been toiling away on Sweetie's socks. I'm using the Eesti Trail Hiking Socks from Interweave's Favorite Socks book. (Yes, I am using a pattern!) (What can I say? Sweetie bought me the book.) After a frustrated evening of trying to figure out how to reconcile the chart for the fair isle pattern with the written instructions, I put down the socks and slowly walked away. The chart was a multiple of 22, but the written instructions said I should have 64 stitches on the needles. Not divisible by 22. I'm ashamed to say that it took me a while to figure that out.
The next day, I visited the errata page on Interweave's web site. Oh, yippee, there was a correction! I ripped back and began again. However. Yes. There is a however. The new and improved chart was a multiple of 6 and you know whut? 64 ain't divisible by 6, either. I'm ashamed to say that it took me a while to figure that out.
I emailed Interweave, and I was pleased with the quick response - but not by the response itself. "Check the errata page," was their reply.
I did!!
"Okay, I'll send this to the technical editor."
A few hours later, my face turned a little red. The technical editor explained everything and it was my bad. I had read the correction wrong. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I had improvised and soldiered on using the 6 stitch chart repeat over 60 stitches (instead of the 16 stitch chart repeat I should have used over the 64 stitches.) Dammit.
On the plus side, my adaption looks great - it fits Sweetie's leg perfectly. And we all lived happily ever after. La dee doo dah day.
Bunny News
Sheila's babies have turned into fat little fuckers, except for the one that didn't. There are four brown ones and three black ones. I had to remake her nest, though, as the kits were getting lost amongst the sheer volume of material that Sheila has been collecting for 6 months. She used the usual hay and her own wool. Also, wads of Fuzzarelly Fibers that she found in my studio, along with bits of polyester batting and fiberfill, pieces of fabric and a couple balls of yarn. I stuffed a plastic shopping bag full of the overflow and still had plenty of soft stuff left to cushion the babies.
Backstory. Both Sheila and Heizen live freely in the house. House bunnies are not supposed to have free rein. They are supposed to be caged when I am gone, according to the "experts." Blah. Blah. Blah. Heizen the Hut stays entirely in the kitchen and living room. Sheila, on the other hand, has always roamed all over the downstairs. She is very good about using the litter box and not tearing up stuff. She hasn't learnt to climb stairs. Yet. What's not to love?
They are not overly DestructoBunnies™. Yes, they have chewed through their share of electrical cords. (Not so much anymore. They made me become a pro at splicing wires.) And Heizen in particular loves to swipe magazines from the coffee table to nibble on. And there is the occasional doily that gets et. All in all, though, they are good kids.
So. Sheila found a lower, unoccupied shelf in the pantry last year and began keeping house. Sweetie and I, being Sweetie and I, let her do her thang. What we will do once the babies begin exploring their surroundings is a good question. No answer available.
Floppy and Wednesday are now living in the backyard enclosure. (At least Floppy is. Wednesday is small enough to slip through the fence.) Sweetie was aghast that I turned them out when the weather was so bad. I can't keep every critter that we feed in the house. And they are doing just fine outside, thankyouverymuch.
A Bit Late. As Usual.
May peace break into your house.
May thieves come to steal your debts.
May the pockets of your pants become a magnet for $100 bills.
May love stick to your face like Vaseline.
May laughter assault your lips!
May happiness slap you across the face.
May your tears be that of joy.
May the problems you had forget your home address!
In simple words -- may 2008 be the best year of your life, so far.
Yesterday, storms swept across the left middle states (Arkansas, Missouri) and kept going over the midwest. Almost fifty people dead. Thunderstorms, twisters, rain, hail, and wind wrecked havoc.
We be fine and shit. The sirens went off twice, and at the second wail I took shelter in the understairs closet for ten minutes. A piece of metal was torn off our barn and the burn barrel was knocked around. I've seen worse. But this morning, I looked out my kitchen window to the south, and saw what was left of my neighbor's equipment shed - less that a quarter of a mile away. The building had no doors, so it became an airfoil sometime around midnight. The high winds completely lifted it up off its foundation and then flung back down. Hard. Looks like kindling.
No one around here was hurt. Nor in Brandenburg, Kentucky, which is just over the Ohio River. Drove over there today to recycle (and to rubberneck, yes, I admit it.) Several signs, fences, and trees were down and power was spotty. Power poles were snapped in two or tilting at scary degree angles. Windows were shattered and roofs (rooves?) were missing or damaged. Brandenburg was pretty much leveled by a huge tornado outbreak back in 1974, so I bet the older folks were a little freaked.
Knitting News
I've been toiling away on Sweetie's socks. I'm using the Eesti Trail Hiking Socks from Interweave's Favorite Socks book. (Yes, I am using a pattern!) (What can I say? Sweetie bought me the book.) After a frustrated evening of trying to figure out how to reconcile the chart for the fair isle pattern with the written instructions, I put down the socks and slowly walked away. The chart was a multiple of 22, but the written instructions said I should have 64 stitches on the needles. Not divisible by 22. I'm ashamed to say that it took me a while to figure that out.
The next day, I visited the errata page on Interweave's web site. Oh, yippee, there was a correction! I ripped back and began again. However. Yes. There is a however. The new and improved chart was a multiple of 6 and you know whut? 64 ain't divisible by 6, either. I'm ashamed to say that it took me a while to figure that out.
I emailed Interweave, and I was pleased with the quick response - but not by the response itself. "Check the errata page," was their reply.
I did!!
"Okay, I'll send this to the technical editor."
A few hours later, my face turned a little red. The technical editor explained everything and it was my bad. I had read the correction wrong. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I had improvised and soldiered on using the 6 stitch chart repeat over 60 stitches (instead of the 16 stitch chart repeat I should have used over the 64 stitches.) Dammit.
On the plus side, my adaption looks great - it fits Sweetie's leg perfectly. And we all lived happily ever after. La dee doo dah day.
Bunny News
Sheila's babies have turned into fat little fuckers, except for the one that didn't. There are four brown ones and three black ones. I had to remake her nest, though, as the kits were getting lost amongst the sheer volume of material that Sheila has been collecting for 6 months. She used the usual hay and her own wool. Also, wads of Fuzzarelly Fibers that she found in my studio, along with bits of polyester batting and fiberfill, pieces of fabric and a couple balls of yarn. I stuffed a plastic shopping bag full of the overflow and still had plenty of soft stuff left to cushion the babies.
Backstory. Both Sheila and Heizen live freely in the house. House bunnies are not supposed to have free rein. They are supposed to be caged when I am gone, according to the "experts." Blah. Blah. Blah. Heizen the Hut stays entirely in the kitchen and living room. Sheila, on the other hand, has always roamed all over the downstairs. She is very good about using the litter box and not tearing up stuff. She hasn't learnt to climb stairs. Yet. What's not to love?
They are not overly DestructoBunnies™. Yes, they have chewed through their share of electrical cords. (Not so much anymore. They made me become a pro at splicing wires.) And Heizen in particular loves to swipe magazines from the coffee table to nibble on. And there is the occasional doily that gets et. All in all, though, they are good kids.
So. Sheila found a lower, unoccupied shelf in the pantry last year and began keeping house. Sweetie and I, being Sweetie and I, let her do her thang. What we will do once the babies begin exploring their surroundings is a good question. No answer available.
Floppy and Wednesday are now living in the backyard enclosure. (At least Floppy is. Wednesday is small enough to slip through the fence.) Sweetie was aghast that I turned them out when the weather was so bad. I can't keep every critter that we feed in the house. And they are doing just fine outside, thankyouverymuch.
A Bit Late. As Usual.
May peace break into your house.
May thieves come to steal your debts.
May the pockets of your pants become a magnet for $100 bills.
May love stick to your face like Vaseline.
May laughter assault your lips!
May happiness slap you across the face.
May your tears be that of joy.
May the problems you had forget your home address!
In simple words -- may 2008 be the best year of your life, so far.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Store and Serve Cool
Okay. So, here I am listening to the Super Bowl play by play on the Sirius Satellite radio. I have only now, two or three minutes into the first quarter, realized that what I am hearing is Flemish! (No, not phlegmish!) Ack. Apparently, the Big Game is being satellite-cast in 12 languages.
So very cool! I'm catching "Play action Manning" and "First down." Otherwise, it is not quite understandable.
I am hoping for a Giants win, because, well, we all hate Tom Brady (the horn dog) and the Patriots here in the Cult of the Colts. I had hoped for a Manning and Brady match up, but who thought it would have been little bro Eli and not Peyton (the Pure)???
Added later: I think it is so cool that BROTHERS have won back to back Super Bowls!
So very cool! I'm catching "Play action Manning" and "First down." Otherwise, it is not quite understandable.
I am hoping for a Giants win, because, well, we all hate Tom Brady (the horn dog) and the Patriots here in the Cult of the Colts. I had hoped for a Manning and Brady match up, but who thought it would have been little bro Eli and not Peyton (the Pure)???
Added later: I think it is so cool that BROTHERS have won back to back Super Bowls!
Friday, February 01, 2008
Open Along Edge
Not much shakin'. Sort of cold here with a smattering of snow. Oldest Brother wrote from the Great White North that is Upper Indiana to say that schools were closed and snow was deep. HA-ha.
Actually, there is something shakin' because, a few days early, Sheila delivered eight bouncing babies! Healthy and with no parts chewed off. Four are black and four are not black. I'm not going to post pictures yet because you have all seen pink and black squirming, hairless, sightless kits. (However, I never, ever get tired of the babies.)
Little Wednesday, on the other hand, is growing apace. Huge, actually! Eleven ounces at just over three weeks. I think he is an angora, even.
So. Right now, there are twelve bunnies in the house. Oh, hell, we don't mind.
Oh, yeah! Sweetie's socks are progressing. More on them later.
Go here for a cheap shot at Paul McCartney. Did you know he is sixty-five fuckin' years old?
Actually, there is something shakin' because, a few days early, Sheila delivered eight bouncing babies! Healthy and with no parts chewed off. Four are black and four are not black. I'm not going to post pictures yet because you have all seen pink and black squirming, hairless, sightless kits. (However, I never, ever get tired of the babies.)
Little Wednesday, on the other hand, is growing apace. Huge, actually! Eleven ounces at just over three weeks. I think he is an angora, even.
So. Right now, there are twelve bunnies in the house. Oh, hell, we don't mind.
Oh, yeah! Sweetie's socks are progressing. More on them later.
Go here for a cheap shot at Paul McCartney. Did you know he is sixty-five fuckin' years old?
Monday, January 28, 2008
Breathe Deeply
Today, Sweetie mocked my reclusiveness. In the real world and the less-real world of Ravelry.
He visited my profile there and said, "Hey honey, this is just like MySpace and FaceBook! It's social networking!" Oh crap, I thought. How dorky it this. "You really need to get involved if you want Fuzzarelly Fibers to grow!"
I know. I know. I hear you. Shut up, dorky butt.
I recently sold every-little-bit o' Fuzzarelly Fiber to The Sassy Spinster in Lancaster, Texas. So if I talk up FF, then I will actually have to make more. Sigh and dammit. (crank crank crank)
Sweetie just laughed out loud at me. Out loud! I'm glad I can amuse him. The Rat Bastard!
So. I updated my profile on Ravelry and friended four or five people that had friended me. Hi, Shannon, Valerie, Victoria, Kitty, Nancy! And I joined two whole groups.
Even worse, fuzzarelly.com has been getting hits from the Fiber Event in Greencastle, and the Southern Indiana Fiber Arts Festival in Corydon. That means I really need to actually update and work on the site. Double Crap and Damn!!
I can not work! The bats and acid-crazed brown recluse spiders make it impossible for me to deal with people!
Pictures of Wednesday. Not quite three weeks old and currently 8.1 oz! Astounding! Despite my earlier doubts, I think he'll make it.
Lastly, forced Sweetie out of the house yesterday to visit a beaver mound, which is in a quarry lake down the road a bit. Couldn't quite photo the actual beaver home but here is an example of their handiwork.
'Beaver mound' made me realize that I haven't bathed or changed clothes in some time. Maybe it is the innerhomeless person, european, psychotic in me. Is this TMI? Please excuse.
He visited my profile there and said, "Hey honey, this is just like MySpace and FaceBook! It's social networking!" Oh crap, I thought. How dorky it this. "You really need to get involved if you want Fuzzarelly Fibers to grow!"
I know. I know. I hear you. Shut up, dorky butt.
I recently sold every-little-bit o' Fuzzarelly Fiber to The Sassy Spinster in Lancaster, Texas. So if I talk up FF, then I will actually have to make more. Sigh and dammit. (crank crank crank)
Sweetie just laughed out loud at me. Out loud! I'm glad I can amuse him. The Rat Bastard!
So. I updated my profile on Ravelry and friended four or five people that had friended me. Hi, Shannon, Valerie, Victoria, Kitty, Nancy! And I joined two whole groups.
Even worse, fuzzarelly.com has been getting hits from the Fiber Event in Greencastle, and the Southern Indiana Fiber Arts Festival in Corydon. That means I really need to actually update and work on the site. Double Crap and Damn!!
I can not work! The bats and acid-crazed brown recluse spiders make it impossible for me to deal with people!
Pictures of Wednesday. Not quite three weeks old and currently 8.1 oz! Astounding! Despite my earlier doubts, I think he'll make it.
Lastly, forced Sweetie out of the house yesterday to visit a beaver mound, which is in a quarry lake down the road a bit. Couldn't quite photo the actual beaver home but here is an example of their handiwork.
'Beaver mound' made me realize that I haven't bathed or changed clothes in some time. Maybe it is the inner
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