don't be a jerk if you are crock-pot-sized and taste good with ketchup

Common wisdom would suggest that if one is conveniently crock-pot-sized, then one should not be a jerk and go around destroying the property of wrathful crock-pot owners.

Who, me? No! I would never.

Exhibit A: My new bathroom rug.


Nothing too spectacular, but soft and cushy and absorbent and doesn't show cat hair and (thank god) cheap. I love this rug, and THIS:

is what the black fluffy buttmonkey did to the rug this morning, while I was standing there brushing my teeth. What is it about cats, when you yell at them for doing something they KNOW is bad? Dogs at least have the decency to look guilty. Cats look at you like, "What?" or "Yeah, yeah, in a minute. Lemme finish eating this rug first." Misbegotten ungrateful brat.

And no, of course I didn't slow roast the kitty, although I haven't ruled it out. Instead, I let both of them up into the linen cupboard to sleep on our towels and coat them with cat hair.


Yep. I'm a sucker.

progress!

Here we have the lovely Paloma:

I reached a stopping point, put all the stitches on waste yarn, and put it in the stash to hibernate until more appropriate weather beckons.

The fit is great. Woo-hoo! I think I want to make it a leeeetle bit longer though. Full coverage on the girls and all that.

To celebrate, I whipped out a little hat in about three days (after about 47 false starts and gauge accidents. Why am I unable to accurately comprehend the size of my own head? It's a mystery, I tell you.)

And this teensy little thread is all I had left of the ball. I was so proud of myself; I wanted to use every last little bit of this delicious yarn. (A one-off hand-dyed by the lovely Reporebo, sadly on hiatus as she has come down with a bad case of grad school.)
Next on the agenda (and also giving me lots of trouble, due to my aforementioned ginormous melon-head), is this, also hand-dyed by Reporebo:

Yum!

Christmas socks: done!

The Best Roommate Ever has been sick with death lately (not swine flu, just some sort of plague complete with hacking cough, making her life miserable). She's been getting plenty of rest and applying warm kitty compresses to speed the healing.

In other news: BRE's Christmas socks are finished! Woo-hoo! Now I have visions of Mason-Dixon's Felted Trees dancing through my head. They're just so cute, and look at how wee they are! They'd knit up in no time, like potato chips. Must . . . knit . . . cute . . . Christmas . . . decorations . . .

colder temperatures mean snugglier kitties

Or perhaps just kitties who like to help with the crossword puzzles.

giant turtles and knitting whining

In an effort to keep this from becoming the "all Shiny New Boyfriend, all the time" channel, I've uploaded our pictures to my Flickr page (twopointysticks, for those of you who want to suffer from nauseating cuteness, and also see me get mauled by a giant concrete turtle).

I turned the heel on the second Christmas sock for the Best Roommate Ever (after having drunk a glass of wine, I might add. Yes, that is enough to knock me on my butt. Yes, I am a prancing lightweight. I'm still awesome, with the sock heels, and the turning. Focus, people!) All I have left to do is the cuff, which makes for good movie knitting. The end is in sight! Still not bloggable, though. Just imagine all my other sock heels. Like that. Good.
My will to continue Paloma has completely fizzled out since blowing past the wedding deadline. And now that the weather has turned cold here (shut up! Sixty degrees is cold! It is too!), I want to knit chunky sweaters, and big warm hats, and cable-knit socks, not some wimpy little wispy lace thingy. I've promised myself that once I get to a stopping place in the pattern, I can put it aside for something else that got hibernated long ago. Or for yarn that has been in my stash so long that it's actually embarrassing.





Oh, my friends, how I've missed you.

happy halloween!

Soooo . . . reasons why I should not shop alone:

I was ooo-ing over some itsy-bitsy little Halloween-themed baby shirts ($1 each!), when suddenly I realized, "Hey! We have cats! Cats are sort of wee-human-sized!"


Jaymie didn't seem to mind his, but Alex was less than impressed.


Having Mommy and Auntie Kim follow him around and take pictures was the final assault on his dignity. &*%$# paparazzi.

Happy Halloween!

environment AND kitty friendly!

Jaymie would like to remind you to use paper bags or bring your own when you go to the store. Plastic bags are bad for the environment and kitties are not allowed to play with them.

See? I HAVE been knitting!

Yes, my friends, there has been knitting. A few months ago, in July, I got the crazy idea to knit Paloma to wear to a wedding. It was perfect: beautiful, elegant, warm yet breezy enough to dance in, and it perfectly matched my favorite silver skirt. I had three months to complete it; plenty of time. Stop me if you know the punchline.

Louet MerLin in cloud grey. I am so in love with this color.

As you've guessed, the wedding was this weekend. This is how much I have done.

The yoke. That's it. Now, all of the people there have seen me naked (while changing my diapers, 28 years ago), but still. Appropriate? Not so much. In spite of my total knitting failure, an awesome time was had by all, and I keep chugging away at the sweater. It will be done eventually. Pics to follow soon.

I love the texture of this stitch pattern close-up.
It reminds me of the amazing photos in The Art of Knitting.

In keeping with tradition, I am busily at work on a pair of socks for the Best Roommate Ever. Unfortunately, I can't blog them until after she receives them at Christmas. Expect a blog filled with kitty pictures for a while. So, you know, more of the same.

I have a confession to make . . .

I am totally in love with Shiny New Boyfriend. Totally and completely gone. He's so great and I'm acting all stupid and squishy and I lurrrrrrve him. And yet . . .
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I still rock out to Single Ladies by Beyonce. (And by "rock out", read "car-dance in an exuberant yet dorky manner".)

Sing it, girl!

Update: Near as I can figure out, Beyonce was married when this song came out. Woo! Let the car dancing commence!

Reason #657 why I like animals better than people

You can say horrible, horrible things to animals as long as you do it in a cute voice.

"Who's a giant pain in the butt? Is it you? Yes, you are! You can shut right up with your whining, because you are a fat obnoxious kitty who is not going to get fed. Yes, and if you don't get out from under my feet, I'm going to sell you to the gypsies to be made into a hat. I am indifferent to your problems; oh, yes, I am!"

Just try doing that to your loved ones.

Alex senses that his human slave is mocking him,
and plans to retaliate by barfing up a hairball on her pillow.

Holy torrential downpour, Batman!

Amazing amounts of rain have been falling on Atlanta for the past week. It's been truly incredible. Fortunately, Chez Wading Lightly is on a hill (unlike poor Southbork), so we're not too worried about flooding. We have been fending off massive ant incursions as the little beasts look for somewhere dry to set up shop. Shiny New Boyfriend's car was totally and impressively overrun, but other than that, we've managed to escape unscathed so far. I'm really, really ready for it to stop raining now.

Jaymie is coping as best he can.

Things I learned today . . .

Do not try to scratch your nose while riding in the back of a truck over a really bumpy road, lest you hit a bump and end up jamming your finger way up into your nostril and poking yourself in the brain. Smartz. I haz dem.

overheard at the movies

Sitting in the movie theater with Shiny New Boyfriend:

SNB: Want a Junior Mint?
Me: No.
SNB: Want a kiss?
Me: Yes.
*smoochies*
SNB: Want a husband?
Me: Hey, waaaait . . .

He's a sneaky one, this one. I'm going to have to be on my guard.

cleverly disguised as a responsible adult

I was entering receipts into my Anal Retentive Spreadsheet (tm) over the weekend, when I realized I spent FIFTY-FIVE DOLLARS on NAIL POLISH this month. *headdesk* Being an adult: FAIL.


On the other hand (hee!), my nails look fantastic.

handy storage solutions

At first glance, it seems like a normal cluttered living room.


But on closer inspection, you can see the clever Hidden Kitten Storage Solution (tm) at work, keeping your kitty handy but out of sight while not in use.

To prevent leakage of cute, be sure to pack your kitty securely, lest it fall asleep and spill out.

where the heck I have been . . .

Soooo. There's been a terrible neglect of blog around here, shameful really. About two months ago, my level of boredom reached a critical mass, and there was nothing to be done but to throw myself face-first into the dating pool (very out of character for me. As you might have guessed, I'm more a fan of wading lightly than diving in). All told, it was either start dating, or sell all my worldly possessions, move to Paris, and become a topiary artist. The Best Roommate Ever wasn't too fond of the uprooting-my-entire-life idea, so dating it was. I followed Yarn or Death's rules (Step 1: DO NOT pay for online dating), and set myself up on a site she recommended advertising myself as a nerdy girl, and BOOM! I was covered in boys. Turns out that's the way to go with internet dating: appeal to all the introverted nerd boys. It seems so obvious in hindsight. :-)

I wasn't in it for anything serious; after all, I have BRE, and what guy could compete with that? (Despite numerous bets by both our sets of coworkers, BRE and I are, sadly, strictly platonic. Otherwise, we'd already be married.)
I settled in quite happily to a whirlwind routine of being flirted with by interesting guys. It was a lot of fun: I got to get all dressed up and pretty and go out to eat with someone new who thought I was cool and pretty, which is just good for the ego. I met some really nice guys with whom I was completely incompatible: one revealed over dinner that he was a Libertarian and didn't believe in global warming; another seemed perfectly normal and awesome until we were trying to schedule our third date, which somehow devolved into a fight over vegetarianism, which he asserted was pointless because broccoli has a central nervous system and can feel pain. Uh huh. Sorry, I have standards. I can't date guys who are dumber than a brick.
Then, there was another one, who now has the nickname Shiny New Boyfriend. Yep. It happened. Our first date lasted six hours. We talked in the restaurant until the wait staff started shooing us out the door, then we talked in the coffee shop next door until the staff started putting chairs up on tables and sweeping the floor, then we talked on a bench outside the coffee shop until BRE started panicking that I'd been killed by some weirdo I met off the internet and called and yelled at me for not answering my phone. Poor girl.
We've been together for a month so far, and it's been great. He took me to the sculpture exhibit at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens, which I'd been DYING to see, and we strolled through it in the rain and he recited poetry to me. It doesn't even sound real, and yet somehow this has become my life. It's bizarre. When did I stumble into a romantic comedy?

picture shamelessly stolen from www.mooreinamerica.blogspot.com

He made me teach him how to knit. I was knitting on our first date (I prefer to get the crazy right out in the open), and he was absolutely fascinated and revealed that he had once started a scarf which was now languishing, and would I teach him so he could finish it? Well, you don't have to ask me twice. I swear, all I did was put the needles in his hands and show him once, and he was off and knitting. And purling. He's a natural.
Shiny New Boyfriend is fantastic. He is intelligent and funny and absolutely the most interesting person I've met. He's thoughtful and feministy and has a real weakness for super-nerdy smart girls, which works out well for me. He loves my cats even though he's allergic and he thinks BRE is the greatest thing ever. It's all very troubling, but I might have to keep him.

Mother-! Finger!

Well, you remember how two weeks ago, I was trying to kill myself? Yeah, that seems to be the theme lately: Injury Tuesdays. This week, a coworker slammed my fingers in a car door. (He felt really bad.) It hurts like hell. Pics and gory details at the bottom of the post, but first, let's look at some yarn.

Araucania Ruca Multy, from Needlenook, also for my birthday. I, um, went a little crazy. It is going to become this.

ALSO! Primrose Path is finished! Here's a pic I took while picking up stitches for the neckband. Real, actual, finished FO pics to follow when I find someone else to play camerawoman and capture this sweater in all its sexy glory.

Now for horrible slammed-finger pictures. Avert your eyes if you're squeamish.

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Yeah. Ouch. My finger is not happy. Oh, and notice the little black dot in the center of the bruise/blood under the nail?

Yeah, that's where I drilled a hole in my nail with a hot needle to let the blood out and release some of the pressure. (Because it makes it hurt less, heal faster, and I really don't want to lose the nail.) I am hard-core. Let my hard-core awesome toughness never again be doubted. I performed bush surgery on myself. (Bush as in Australian outback. Get your minds out of the gutter. You know who you are.)

keepin' it cute

The kitties are working hard over here in the Land of Wading Lightly.

Alex displays his fluffy 'tocks

while Jaymie treats you all to a little sleepy-tongue-sticky-out action.

Have a happy Fourth!

Thoughts while mowing the grass

Thoughts while mowing the grass:

Oooo. Cool breeze. Restores will to live . . .

Pteh! Cool breeze blows dust and grass in my face! Pteh!

I really need a boyfriend, so I can make someone else do this . . .

I'm not dead yet! But I have been trying . . .

So I tried to kill myself twice on Tuesday. The first incident happened at work, where I bashed the ever-loving crap out of my left ankle on a pallet jack and scraped my wrist. The ankle hurt so bad I duct-taped an ice pack to it and just walked around like that for the rest of the day. (Too busy! No time for injuries!) The second happened later that night. The Best Roommate Ever and I were both in our beds, snuggled down to sleep, when I realized I had to pee and went down the stairs to the bathroom. For some reason unfathomable to me, I completely missed the bottom step. Just stepped off into space like it was perfectly natural. I slammed my arm into the doorknob, which gave me a fantastic bruise, and came down hard on my right ankle. I lay sprawled in the hallway, right across from BRE's door, trying to assess the damage. Nothing broken; everything I tried to wiggle wiggled. I heard BRE (jerked out of a sound sleep by some idiot falling flat on her face) say to me, "Are you ok?" "I'm fine," I replied, from my spot on the floor. "No, really." "No, no! I'm fine!" I lay there on the floor in the pitch black, wiggling my toes, and thought, 'This is comfy. Maybe I should just sleep here.' Then I realized. I still had to pee. Damn damn dammity damn.
My plan for Wednesday, mowing the lawn, was postponed until I could be trusted with a power tool with a big spinning blade on it.

funniest conversation EVER

Courtesy of Torchwood:

Toshiko: No, Owen, I can't just hook something up! The entire telephone network is down.

Owen: What about a mobile connection?

Toshiko: [slowly] The. Entire. Telephone. Network. Is down!

Ianto: Mobiles, landlines, tin cans with bits of string, everything, absolutely everything: no phones, phones all broken. [holds up hand in imitation of telephone] Hello? Anyone there? No! Because the phones aren't working!

Er, well, maybe you had to see it. But BRE and I rewinded and rewatched about three times. We're still texting it back and forth. Still funny.

when knerds gather

I spent a lovely, nerd-alicious evening with two of my favorite knitting buds earlier this week, getting our geek on while playing with string and amusing/annoying the other restaurant patrons. We discussed, among other things, the merits of Kenneth Branagh productions of Shakespeare, except for Hamlet, because for the love of yarn, four hours is way too freakin' long for a movie. I mean really. Also, the unbearable whininess of Annakin Skywalker and how even though it made sense that the evil overlord of the galaxy would start out as a whiny little creep, it was still pretty unbearable to watch. Kelly waxed eloquent about the unbelievable arrogance of George Lucas for assuming the fans would give a crap about The Clone Wars after the first three movies sucked so much. I ranted about the crappiness of the writing in the Lord of the Rings books and how vindicated I felt when all of my complaints were echoed by the screenwriters in the director's commentary of the movies. We rehashed the greatest moments of DM of the Ring ("Tell me your name, horsef***er!"). Kelly and Kerry roundly mocked TS Elliot. We also argued the merits of the Harry Potter movies (I still say they sucked), and agreed that Richard Harris' performance as Dumbledore was terrible (I don't care that he's dead. His performance was terrible.), that Ian McKellan would have been infinitely superior, seeing as Gandalf and Dumbledore are practically the same character, and how awesome it would be if Sir Ian were to play Aberforth in the last movie. (How awesome would it be? So awesome that my bladder control becomes questionable, that's how awesome.)
We don't have to practice to be this geeky; it just comes naturally.

low-stashing status: going . . . going . . .

. . . gone, baby, gone. These arrived in the mail last week: Summit Sock, hand-dyed sock yarn from Impulse of Delight.

The top one is Blackberry and the bottom one is Crocus. Here's a more accurate picture of the Blackberry.

The most awesomest and amazing thing about this yarn is: see the pics on the labels? The dyer is also an amazing nature photographer, and those are pictures she took. She then dyes the yarn based on the photographs. It's truly amazing, and all I can do not to just direct deposit my paycheck to her. (I also got this from her for my birthday. So pretty!)

And, AND! She gave me these with my purchase!

Cute little stitch markers! Which is perfect because I don't have any stitch markers! (I just fake it with paper clips when I have to.) Except they are too pretty to use as stitch markers so I strung them on a chain and am wearing them as a necklace.


See the cat hair? That's how you know it's me.

In other news: ta da!

Above picture is more accurate to color, but below pic shows the lace pattern better.

That is how the pieces looked at the beginning of the evening, and this is how they looked at bedtime.

I'm in the home stretch!