Knitting Resumes

That's resume, as in begin again ... not resume, as in my credentials. Those I have none of. I used to read about people who stopped knitting in the summer, blaming the heat (holding all that wool). I never got it. I discovered, however, that I seemed to lose all interest in knitting in the summer, and as soon as it gets chilly and the leaves start turning, my interest in knitting returns with a vengeance.

I still don't think it has anything to do with the heat. But then, what do I know. All I do know is that I have gotten way re-obsessed with knitting recently.

I've been making leaps and bounds progress on the (never-ending) log cabin blanket. We went on a weekend road trip last Saturday and Sunday, and I got a whole color section done. The larger the blanket gets, the bigger deal that becomes. It's getting close to being done. I decided, in my masochistic way, that I wanted it to be bedspread-sized. I spread it out on the bed not long ago, and it just about covers the top of the bed (double sized bed) without hanging over. Not quite there, but almost.

It's kind of ironic, that I started this project as something 'simple and quick' to give me a break from a long-term highly cabled sweater project. Which I'll probably never finish. Well, the log cabin blanket is 'simple and quick' when you're first starting out with those little patches ... but when it gets bed-sized, and each patch is huge, that's another story.

I've also become re-obsessed with socks. This started as a Christmas thing. Last year I told my family that I'd make them hand-knit socks for Christmas. A month or so ago I reminded them I needed foot measurements to do this. Two of the four of them sent them to me, and I ordered some luscious sock yarn from KnitPicks, and indulged in a new set of circular needles as well. (Totally awesome needles! An indulgence, I already had sock needles, but I had to try these - and well worth it they were!)

Then I discovered that the measurements I'd been sent had been taken slightly wrong, and I sent a re-request for corrections. To date I haven't heard back from said family, which is frustrating the hell out of me. I'm back in sock mode, and I'm dying to knit some socks, and have no accurate measurements to work with.

I've decided if they don't respond soon, I'm going to make myself a pair of socks out of this wonderful yarn, and write the family off.

I'm dreading Christmas anyway. It's pretty well going to suck this year unless I think of something drastically new to do. For my entire life I've celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve (a family tradition) with my parents, and after my mom passed away in 2004, with my dad.

This year there is no mom or dad to celebrate Christmas with. My brother's family has to navigate Christmas around several families, and usually times it for a weekend, since logistically it's just easier for them - so with Christmas officially falling on a Tueday this year, that means the weekend before or the weekend after. Add to that the fact that my house is too tiny to have them all here, besides which what with scheduling and all, I doubt it would ever work ... and since selling dad's house there's no place else for us to get together. Since they'll be here (in Ohio, as opposed to where they live, in Pennsylvania) seeing other family members, my going there isn't really an option either.

Meanwhile, my boyfriend spends Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with his kids and ex. So ... I'm pretty much abandoned on Christmas, and - fox and sour grapes alert - I could pretty much care less anymore. I'd just as leave forget the whole damned holiday and be done with it. But for some reason, people consider you just totally anathema if you do that.

Now that I'm musing on this less than happy topic, I wonder why I care what they think? I mean, I'm the one who gets left at the end of the priority list for Christmas plans ... why do I need to feel so accommodating? Maybe I'll take myself back to North Carolina to the beach house from paradise, and spend Christmas with just me and Tyler. That would make me happy.

Stashing my bitterness back in it's box, how did I get to this depressing topic, from knitting? Oh yeah - family socks. Well, we'll see what happens, and whether I end up providing happy feet to the family for Christmas, or take myself off to Emerald Isle and keep my own feet happy - in warm sand or warm socks, it's all good either way.

Vacation = Success (mostly)

Vacation was a success - mostly. Let's just focus on the positive for now. The beach house was to die for. It was absolutely fabulous. Yes, it cost $1400 for a week ... and worth every penny. It was huge. It had a phenomenal kitchen (with a dishwasher and a breakfast bar). It had a great dining area (perfect for long nights of Pirate's Dice). It had the most phenomenal couch on the planet in the living room. It had 3 bedrooms upstairs, with 2 bathrooms, and a huge upstairs private deck off one bedroom (mine) with an amazing, unobstructed view of the ocean.

Downstairs two doors opened onto a deck right on the dunes overlooking the beach. It just doesn't get much better than that. Well, hell, I have pictures.

The beach was awesome. Deserted, warm - ocean temperature in the 80s - beautiful all week. They kept calling for rain, but it only rained twice, both times about 6:00 a.m. Like I cared, I was asleep (I woke up briefly and heard it, and the deck was wet when I finally climbed out of bed - that's how I knew it rained).

However, this pretty well sums up the trip.




It was a good vacation.