Friday night, Cakers' stint as Gardener No. 3 in Alice in Wonderland, came to a rousing conclusion.

She's painting flowers here.



'Lo! The Queen approaches!



I'm guessing that's not a good thing.





When it comes to curtain call, there are no bit parts. ::Notice how she's parked herself right in front of the 5th graders.::



I kind of like the random first-gradery-ness of this shot.



I had meant to post this earlier in the weekend but every time I went to upload the pictures, I had to look at them all again. And again.

She did a great job, and I'm spittin' proud.

But now that we're a couple of days out of the hoopla, I can't stop thinking about how her world has changed so much over the last couple of years. And how I don't feel like I'm so much a part of the bulk of that world, anymore. I know that is supposed to happen. But I can't stop thinking about the kids in the pictures. Kids from all grades whom I don't know, but who know my girl.

And I don't know the play director.
But she'll know Cakers at the ice cream shop this summer. Or grocery store.

I don't know one of the costume moms, but she approached me in the hall, after the play, to say what a great job my daughter did and what a good kid.

I met the make-up mom at the cast party. A woman who touched my sweet baby's face two nights last week, without our having been formally introduced.

It's all a wonderful thing.
A world nestled in a world, kind of thing.

Right now she's just one nestle away.
I can still reach out and grab her.

But how long before I have to claw across a few Nestles of World, just to get a glimpse into those big brown eyes?

eh.

Caker Lace
Well, between all the wailing and renting and verklempting, I have managed to finish a sock.



It's kind of mangle-y. The second one is coming in a little neater, but I am afraid the first one is a little small, as it "Hurts my tooooe!"

For the record, my daughter walks this Earth on a set of designer ore barges. She's 6 years-old and her feet are 1.5 inches shorter than mine and about as wide.

Anyway. Now that I know that size is an issue, I can make the second one a little longer. Then tell her to just get over and buck it up on the first one.

See? I'm not so sappy.

Labels: From My Loins

I finished the Kipling last night, amidst the chaos of hosting Easter Dessert for my family of origin.

Here's a normal view:



Here's the Tool view (observation courtesy of College Boy):



Here's the specs:

Pattern: Kipling

Yarn: Cherry Hill Cotton

Notes: Cute sweater.Quick knit.Confusing directions at times, but we appeared to have all survived, didn't we now? I skipped the turned-up, whip-stitched hems and performed some ribbing instead. I also skipped the short row cap on the sleeve because I couldn't figure out how to divide the cap into five evenly spaced segments and I wanted to finish the sweater before the recipient hit puberty.

It is a very fast knit and cute. Ree. Cute.

Bit-o-Busy
And it goes something like this: Last Wednesday I was up late preparing for my turn to lead the Brownie session on Thursday. Thursday I lead Brownies. Friday was the day before Cabana's birthday and a huge ass blizzard, which provided the worst commute home all season. Saturday was Cabana's birthday and High School Musical on Ice and Sunday we had dinner at In-laws, then my family over for dessert.

I didn't sleep well all weekend in anticipation of a hugely stressful meeting today, which went worse than I obsessively imagined.I am now kicking myself for losing the sleep, because it got me nothing but tired. Tuesday is Cakers' Student-Lead P/T conference, Wednesday is the first night of the school play and the second showing is Friday.

So, this is probably about all you're getting outta me this week. For the record, it's taken me about 7 minutes to write these last two sentences.

But that's not stopping me from writing...

An Open Letter to the Lady With the Bodacious Booty, Who Was in Front of Me at the Grocery Check Out.
Dear Lady as Mentioned in Above Title: Yes, your ass is fine. But I'm pretty sure you already know this, seeing as how you repeatedly shifted your weight from one bodacious cheek to the other, while trying to catch a glimpse of it from the corner of your eye. And yes, that is some amount of Bodaciousness, that can be seen peripherally, with one's own eye.

Anyway. Lady. What I really want to know is what did you think was going to happen at the end of the seven or eight minutes that it took the cashier to ring up and bag your groceries? That the Hand of the Lord was going to swoop down from above and pluck a sweaty wad of 20's from your Living Bra and hand it to the cashier?

Instead of popping your Lady Humps for the duration, do you think that that your time in line would be better spent by you digging in your bra/boot/snatch/purse/cigarette case in search of a method of payment? And what about how you stared at the cashier like she was speaking Cotton-Ease, when she repeated the grand total for the third time?

Dear Lady. Never mind. I don't want to know.

Labels: Knit Done, Three Legged River Dancer, Wild aRandoment

Cakers made me this vase for St. Patrick's Day. I love, love, love it.



I especially love the little stroke marks, left by her sweet little dabbings with a brush. I like to imagine her jabbering away to her dad, and the pottery store attendant, and maybe thinking a little of me, wondering if would like it, and what I was going to say.



I've had a bad week. Again. Still. A week seemingly begotten by the Bastard-Now-Known-as-Last-Week.

After I took those vase pictures this afternoon, I sat for a minute. Thinking. In the sun.

Then along came a cat.



Then along came an idea to sit in this one spot on the floor and take pictures of whatever the hell I felt like. While I did rotate around to get shots all around, I never moved more than a foot in any direction from my original spot, and my ass left the floor only when I scooched around.

Bella and I were soon joined by Cakers and Cheddar.

And five minutes later, I had a sampling of this sunny, domestic harbor.































Have a Good Friday, everyone.
::Yes, I know it is Thursday. Or is it Maundy? Anyway. The week I've been having, I figure Friday can't get here soon enough. Sorry about the dull post, but it was either this, or full on emotional spewage, from all orifices.::

::Please click to embiggen some.::

No Monkey Zone
First of all, there are no Monkeys in this part. This part is about Quick Knits that Aren't That Quick.

Evidently a Quick Knit is only Quick if you actually knit on it.

This is what I have so far on the Kipling.



I think I finished the front piece early last week, which was really easy and quick. After this point, however, the pattern gets a little tricky, what with the sewing of two 1.5 inch shoulder seems. After that is the picking up of a couple several stitches for a couple tiny sleeves. Tiny sleeves which would then need to be, you know, knit.

Clearly, it was all too much for me.
All right, that might be a bit of a distortion.

Clearly, all I really want to do, is knit socks.

Variations on a Theme
Last week, Kim and I were talking about socks and she mentioned she was working on the Monkey,and loving it.

I happened to have some lovely sock yarn and needed to get moving on my plan to make matching socks for my daughter and Mother In Law. ::Matching as in each will have a matching pair of socks that match. K.::

So, Thursday night I cast on for Monkey. Here's the Rib:



Topic Sidewinder: Like most kids, as a toddler, Cakers went through the Band-aid-as-Fashion-Statement phase, where she needed a special band-aid for every occasion. Two years ago Christmas, I found these band-aids at some little boutique, and thought they might provide a nice alternative from her current and very mainstream collections of Spiderman, Dora and Spongebob.



They were never her first choice, but she nickel-dimed the stash over a few months time. Eventually the box ended up on the top-shelf of the medicine cabinet, then forgotten. For some reason, the container has recently come back into circulation and Friday it was sitting on the back of the sink, open. When I leaned over to wash my hands, I glanced into the open container, and saw this:



Is it my imagination, or is that Cheeky Monkey smirking at me?

Later that evening I commenced with the lace pattern on Monkey. After ripping back to the rib twice, I tried a third time. But it still looked like, well, Monkey Butt.

And I think the Cheeky Monkey knew.
::I find it odd that none of us saw that little guy in there before. Especially the Cakers. Because if she had, the Monkey would not still be in the container. Therefore, I think it was meant to be, this Monkey Post.::

I finally decided that the Monkey pattern is just too much for me, at this n00bish stage of my sock skill development. So I looked around the Ravelry and found this pattern.

Here's what I have so far:



And it's going well.
At first I thought maybe it was going so well because of the Lack of Monkey in the project.

But after I took a closer look at the picture, I had to think again. See it?



Maybe this will help:



Today's lesson: When it feels like all your knit is Monkey Butt, turn the other Cheeky, and let your Monkey Shine.

P.S. The theme runs more rampant than previously imagined. A guy name Kipling wrote the The Jungle book, no?

When your life
Is all a-muddle,
Find some sunshine
In a puddle.





The Source:


Today's Eye Candy was initially to be a black mudball, carefully formed by Cakers tender patties, yesterday afternoon. It was to represent not only the onset of Spring, but also the dark muddiness of a stressed out heart.

But sometimes the Universe has a better idea.

P.S. Sometimes the Universe has a great idea. Deal of the Century: 6 purse-size bottles of Bare Foot wine, for 8 bucks.

P.P.S. Nothing screams alchi mom, like the clinking of a bag of tiny White Zins, as she skips across the grocery store parking lot.

I finished my husband's socks. Not as hideous as you imagined, I imagine.



He seems happy with them, but you wouldn't know it by how I had to beg him to not only to try them one, but also to pose his feet in a blogworthy manner. I actually had to move his feet for him, to get that shot. And even then, he wouldn't show me his ankles.

So I resorted to a sleezy nap shot:



Pattern: Ann Budd's basic sock, with 2x2 ribbing.
Yarn: Trekking XXL and a Smidge of Schaefers Something or Other.

Cast Anew
Mere minutes after the kitchenering of the last sock, I cast on for
Baby Kipling, with that Cherry Hill stuff I bought in the fall.

Those familiar with the pattern may wonder if that is ribbing around the bottom, where a hemmed edge should be. Yes, it is.



This sweater is a whippy quick knit and I finished the back last night. I'd show a picture but my battery is dead and I am feeling incredibly low-mo.

Robbing Peter to Pay Paul and Mary
I anticipate an ass-kicker, in the upcoming work week. In fact, I should be working on a report right now, instead of this post.

When my work gets wack, I spend a lot of time thinking about it. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, as my ruminations often result in applicable insights and solutions. Unfortunately, this process also sucks up my creative juices; leaving little to nothing for anything else. Such as floating a blog.

Just sayin'.
Cuz I can.

1) It's not Wednesday.

2) I started two different blog posts this week. None of which are contained here.

3) There have been some big changes in my work environment, with the possiblility of more to come. This has been stressful on many fronts, and a couple of backs, including mine. Despite the resulting chaos, anxiety and overall suckwaddishness, my disturbed inner child is kinda giggin' on it.

4) Cabana's two toend sock will be done this weekend. Last night he announced that he is exceptionally pleased with the "Perfect Balance of Hideosity" provided by his chosen contrast yarn. I was going to share a up-to-date photo, but decided to spare you the extra assault on the sensibilities, and save the photo for when the sock is done.

5) I met some people today, who smelled like pickles. Dill.

6) I didn't have lunch today.

7) I found the Pickle People oddly appealing.

8) I took this picture yesterday, and have since forgotten what I wanted to say about it.



9) The Girl Scout Cookies came in last week. It's amazing how many people forgot what they ordered and how easy has been it could've been to eat their Lemonade Cookies, without their knowing.

10) I ate my mom's Lemonade cookies. I felt bad until I realized that, because she lives out of state, her order doesn't count.

11) The Lemonade cookies are that good.

12) I am that selfish.

13) I bought the last, extra box of Lemonade Cookies from our troop leader, to replace my mother's order.

14) I will eat that box this weekend.

15) Yesterday, the DJs on my Morning Drive radio station, were having a Hit the Post competition. Because of pre-programming and digitalization, Hitting the Post has become a dying art. By the time I arrived to work, I was feeling nostalgic for the olden days; for 1340, on your AM dial. Comfort angst for the addle-souled adolescent.

17) It wasn't until later in the day when I realized the true meaning of Hitting the Post: To know exactly when to shut-up.

12) Good-Night.

Is it just me, or does this Saturday Sky have a little Spring in its step?




I have lots on my plate this weekend. Most of it in little piles. I've only gotten through about 1/3 them, and there's a big ass pile of lima beans still looking me in the eye. ::lima beans=stuff brought home from work.::

Tomorrow at 1:00, however, I'm sticking my face in a pile of dessert, via an impromptu visit with some Home Dawg Fries.

Got Toe Balls?
Me either.
But I wish I did.

I'm thinking that I'm going to run out of yarn for my husband's last sock. Seeing as how I'd rather undergo a gynecological exam performed by a team of red-butt monkeys, than knit another pair of black socks, I can see no purpose in spending 16 dollars on another skein of this yarn, just for a sock toe.

What I'm wondering: Is there such thing as toe yarn? I'm thinking of little balls of common-hued, superwash fingering weight yarn, that a person could buy if he/she runs out, without having to buy another full skein of yarn. Is this making sense?

I hate to drop a deeply philosophical load and run, but I gotta sock to not finish.