It’s strange. Even though I haven’t posted anything in the last couple of days, I feel like I’ve been on here constantly. Unfortunately, there is no mechanism yet to directly transfer your thoughts into blog posts. But that certainly doesn’t mean I’ve been slacking.
On Tuesday, my only real, normal day off of the week, I was planning on heading down to the haunted house to take some pictures for the Lost Post from Monday, but it was cold and raining and I didn’t have a car, but I did have lots of knitting to be done.
So I finished up Preston’s cute little Button Tab Hat in Malabrigo Rios Aguas, and had three false starts on the Hurry Up Spring Armwarmers for my sister before finally frogging it again and giving up for the night. There are some crazy ass stitches in that one that I just couldn’t figure out without a good night’s sleep.
I also kept the kitten company. Wiggum has been in heat for a couple of weeks now, and although we’re taking her to get spayed really soon (she has nothing to worry about from Monty, the chubby ball-less old man), she’s now at the point of climbing people’s legs while sticking her tail straight to the side, wiggling violently and cooing like a Velociraptor. She doesn’t creep on me quite as much, perhaps because I’m her mom and such and that would be weird, so we stayed closed up in the bedroom, all cozy with yarn, coffee and Battlestar Galactica.
I didn’t want to get into this show, but I had recently finished a series on Netflix, and I didn’t know what to start next. Don’t you feel lost when you get to the end of a TV series? I do. It’s like a breakup, but you still like each other.
Tyler had been pushing Battlestar on me for a while. I figured I might like it, but he wanted me to like it, which instantly made me hate it. I will never admit this to his face, but I will write it here on the interwebs, partly because I don’t mind him knowing, I just won’t say it, and partly to see if he’s reading. And if he is, is he the only one? Hello…hello…hello…?
Dammit, Battestar, what did you do to me? I fracking love you. You’re unrepentantly geeky, full of hot people who can’t seem to stop getting busy with each other, it’s just delicious, like really epic Sci-Fi Cinemax, for a proper 90’s reference. Does anyone watch Cinemax for soft-core porn anymore? Battlestar, though, is like four seasons of Starship Troopers or something, but the bugs are people and they’re super hot and they keep boinking the soldiers. And there are metal robots too! And crazy space battles! Oh you slutty, slutty Cylons, how you brighten my day.
Then on Wednesday I woke up feeling achy all over, and there also seemed to be a pinched nerve somewhere around my lower back/tailbone area. I went to school anyway and although I had been planning on putting in the normal 12-hour day, after a few clients, sudden stabbing headaches, walking like a 90-year-old man and fits of dizziness, I decided to stop wielding razor-sharp objects on and about peoples’ heads and headed out about 1:00.
Had everyone not wanted beard trims and linings (normally a specialty of mine) where I have to contort myself into all sorts of strange positions, I might have made it a little later in the day.
Guess what happened next? BATTLESTAR! And I finish the first armwamer and it looks awesome.
The next morning I have to wake up early and make the stuffing and potatoes to take to my uncle’s for Thanksgiving. I do eventually get the boy out of bed, because someone was out REALLY late, I was NOT happy with him, because when people are out past the time they say they are going to be home, I am mentally writing a missing persons report and picturing them dead and bleeding in a ditch. I’m such a mom already.
Once we get home from Thanksgiving dinner, someone goes to bed again (about 3:00 in the afternoon) because someone has to be up to work two overnights in a row, and I’ll give you one guess what I was doing for the rest of the night.
But the armwarmers are done! And I find myself in yet another of those circumstances where I’m holding in my hands something that I put so much time and effort into, and it’s made out of really nice yarn, and although I know I made it well, I know I could do it even BETTER if I knitted a second pair for myself, but for a moment I’m instead tempted to just wear them until Christmas and never tell her.
But I will not do that.
Because that would be wrong.
I will knit my own damn armwarmers. They’re so cozy.
I will, however, give them to her the next time I see her, because Gwen and I figure there are enough surprises and neither are fans of delayed gratification, around the holidays and in life. This is usually how it goes:
“Hey, I totally got your present and I have it right here!”
“It’s still two months until [insert name of holiday here}.”
“Whatever, do you want it now?”
“Sure, I could go with now.”
“Do you care that it’s not wrapped and I have it here in a plastic grocery bag?”
“No, that’s totally cool. And I have yours here too.”
Although in many ways we could not be more different, we still get each other in a very specific and focused way. Seesters. They do that sometimes.
But yes, this is what I’ve been doing the past few days. Sounds like I’ve been a slacker, but I was pretty productive for being stationary and in a lot of pain. I’m like a little Christmas elf, whipping out presents with my lightning-quick little fingers. And now, to bed to rest up for an early work day and my kind of 10-, kind of 11-year high school reunion.
So I’ll let you know how that goes.