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••• Sunday, March 21, 2004

Sundi Sundries
I'm just going open my brain and type today, so bear with me. Or not.

Cinderballa Falls Down the Ballroom Staircase
But damn, if she didn't look good all the way down.

Yeah, we lost. But we lost to the number 2 rated team in the state. Unfortunately, we missed something like 23 of 36 freethrows, and lost by 20 after keeping up pretty well the first 3 quarters.

I can't help but believe that the collective impact of the misses at the line became a psychological albatross. (I guess they free-threw it away?). Regardless of the final outcome, they finished the season on an incredible high and definitely the object of prep sportspeak everywhere.

Whined Up
My husband has a huge project deadline Monday morning. He was on track until the automotive giant he is sub-sub-contracting for decided to make a last minute change in design function, without forgiving the deadline. In other words, they expected him to pull the new product out of his butt (wrapped in protective cellophane, of course), and hand it over with both an apology and signed affidavit verifying that he washed his hands.

For those unaware, the automotive industry as a service contractee can be a demanding, unforgiving, capricious, esteem-sucking beast.

Okay, back to the whine. So he can be handy for impromptu parenting ops, husband is working at home, at my computer seat. At this writing, I'm squinting into my son's 9-inch square monitor, bursting eye vessels on the made-for-aspirin-label-fine-print font. Between the .0075 font, my son's twisted mouse/keyboard/monitor/chair configuration and kittens growing in beverage containers, I can only sit here for about 3 minutes at a time without losing my mind and/or taking a valium.

That my son can actually sit (or maybe he kneels?) in this position for hours on end, simultaneously interacting with a minimum of 16 friends via IM, (typing "two finger" no less) has me realizing a newfound respect for his emotional and physical aptitude. Now, two questions: 1) Are these skills marketable? 2) How can I usurp these strengths for the greater good of our household?

Gifts from the Blogiverse
I received the cutest little present in the mail from non other than our world traveling Greta. It's a cute tiny terry pig finger puppet! I'd post a picture, but my son's computer doesn't contain my photo management software.

The present is very cute and very Greta and I'm so very Gretaful!

Oxymoron Warning:
Barney Fife gone cagey?

I finished the right side of the Must Have and immediately prepared to start on a sleeve by fetching my size 6 needles tips for my Denise interchangeable system. But I could only find one size 6. It was in my knitting bag with one size 7.

First I thought "what's a size 7 doing in my bag when it should be on the end of the cable.... " which rapidly morphed into second thought: "Shit."

Although very afraid, I had to look. Shore 'nuff, there it was, a size 6 Denise, attached to the end of the cable, right where a size 7 should've been, for the past 20 inches of the garment piece. Yes, I'd been knitting the right front of the Must Have using size 6 and 7 needles.

It must've happened at the last frog pond. After a froggin', I usually use a smaller size needle to pick up the live stitches. I guess I switched to smaller and forgot to switch back. Usually I go down two sizes, mostly to prevent such a thing from happening, in that the smaller the needle, the easier it is to catch the error.

While I can't notice a difference in the fabric, I'm having a hard time believing I'm going to get away with this Barney boner.

Barney...you..you...you little Barffoker*, you.

*Barffok=Barney Fife Factor of Knitting. A Barffok is a really stupid knitting mistake that only the really stupid could commit. Unable to leave a stupid deed well enough alone, those who are truly commited to the art of stupidity, go on to share their stupid-infused knitting travels with the world, on a blog.
# posted by Marcia @ 11:48 AM


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