A Visually-Intensive Update (of sorts).

Here's what's been going on since my last post...

An experiment with cabling in Silk Garden

Another thong sock

Mass purchases of Tara's Superwash Merino

A pair of socks made from Tara's Superwash

New Red Chuck Taylor Hi-Tops

The obligatory seasonally appropriate Weird AnimalShot

Hallowe'en--it's what's crackin'
(courtesy of my Cousin Elaine in Denver)

Stay tuned...more news to come...soon!

Who knew? (Part II)

Advocating Artist

Personally, I was hoping it would reveal why I like to post completely ridiculous pictures like this:

Perhaps there is no answer.

Sock it to me-sock it to me-sock it to me-sock it to me...

With sincere apologies to Judy Carne, I submit for your review, some of the many socks I'm currently working on. My exile in Omaha has worked my nerves to the point that I've purchased one of those mega-magnification lamps and have gone completely buck wild. I'm all up into the whole sick sock thang. Meanwhile, I'm working on the obligatory Christmas scarves and oddly-shaped hats for felting purposes, as well.

In addition, I managed to get myself on TV with one of the many (many) SnBs I attend on an irregular basis; although with me, I figure the irregularity is implied, doncha think? Personally, I find the best shot is the one of my hands. You see, I had the foresight to do my nails in advance, and even chatted up the photog (because they never get any love, unlike the egotistical Ted Baxter-esque reporters)...

Nevertheless, I plan to continue my attempts to Escape from Omaha. And to all the Knittas in da MTL, I hope to see you again, very very (very) soon. I hope. I hope, a lot.

Global knitting for the greater good.

This is proof that I don't merely knit--I manage to star trip at the same time. Read about the very first SnB group I dared to join, and their plan to keep street kids in Montreal warm(-er).

Then, you can read about the organization Dans La Rue,
founded by Father Emmett Johns, aka 'Pops'.

But don't hate me because I'm well-connected...
Everyone reading this blog is welcome to send in a square!(This means you).

In the event you don't understand the intricacies of mailing small-hand knitted items to Canada, please leave a comment with your e-mail addy, and I'll respond accordingly. Because it's laid out like that. Can ya dig it?

...I knew that you could.

One,
- D.

The Reset (le 29 septembre, 2006)

Yeah Tara!
(Check out her other site, too)

How to Make Your Own Yarn Swift

I made this one myself, for less than $40.
(That's $35 if you consider that I bought the wrong wood the first two times--plus I'm talking Canadian dollars!)

The Distorted View Website & Podcast

(XXXtra Nasty--You've Been Warned!)

Oddly enough, this one is clean...

Naked Mole Rats
Fugly.

The Star-Nosed Mole
Even Fuglier.

Pulchritude.

Too tired to type

...therefore, this visual will have to do.
Make sure you read the message from the fortune cookie.
It's very deep.

Gluttony

Now that's just plain nasty.

This is what happens when you go to a buffet after having starved yourself all effing weekend so you can maximize your input. (Actually it's a python who got piggy with it and devoured a pregnant ewe, which is disturbingly similar).

Hey look, I actually completed two!

When I'm not sublimating with mass-quantities of foodstuffs, I'm overindulging by purchasing far too much sock yarn. Please note one completed project (above) and another one which is in progress (below),using Trekking XXL and the Hedera sock pattern from Knitty. I like how the pattern looks more difficult than it is, and how quickly it knits up. (The quasi-camo Aqualrel No. 155 colorway is nice, as well). I thank you in advance for not making rude comments about my bony ankles.

Socks are like...the new dishrags.

When I feel like it, I'll update you on the many other goings-on in my world. Right now, my sinuses are megapissed at me, and are making my life very painful indeed. So this will simply have to do...

Mahalo!

Ghetto-style knitting implements, holiday junkets, and carnal desires.

Who knew Nasacort caps could be so functional?

You know that think about necessity being the mother of invention? That's wrong. Poverty is. And here's my proof--I created these functional little point protectors from the caps on the countless bottles of Nasacort I've been snorting all fucking summer. With a small wad of Fun-tak (represented by the little white ball in the photo) to keep everything in place, I've created cheap and environmentally-friendly knitting gadgets, although they probably have some of my DNA from snot residue, but I like to think it's just me, The Artiste, putting a bit of myself into my work.

This one was made from the prong protector thingy of my new scanner.

"I wants me some of that."

So here's the deal. I'm still trying to escape from Omaha, but it seems that I can only get as far as Denver, for the time being. Yes, I realize that it takes me even further away from Montreal than I already am, but I'm only going there so I can do the groupie thing around Taylor, and perhaps convince him to run off with me to Lachine, where we will live happily ever after. Wish me luck.

More when I return, which hopefully will be Wednesday evening, but most likely will drag into Thursday morning, because air travel is laid out like that, these days...

...It's Bob!

She mixes and pours martinis without using her hands. Or feet.

I think she should make an appearance at Minnie and Mark's reception. And guess what? Ms. Violet of Lime & Violet fame knows her personally. And so does Mr. Violet. How cool is that??

Well hey...I think it's damn cool. And if you know what's good for you, you will too!

What will they think of next?!

Or "How To Smuggle A Beverage Onto A Commercial Flight
Then Avoid Those Pesky Lineups At The Loo."

I actually finished something.

...And here it is. I used the pattern from Spun Magazine. The author is Kate Atherley, and the yarn is Brown Sheep Wildfoote in the colorway Rock 'n Roll. Believe it or not, I'm 2/3rds of the way finished with the left foot, which isn't really like me, but perhaps I'll soon put it down so I can start something else for purposes of further procrastination.

Actually, I was 'Doped-Up' Kid.

Arty Kid

Whether you were a drama freak or an emo poet, you definitely were expressive and unique. You're probably a little less weird these days - but even more talented!

Who Were You In High School?

More inaccurate quizzes.

Their first mistake is not including Ebonics...

Your Linguistic Profile:

60% General American English

15% Dixie

10% Midwestern

5% Upper Midwestern

5% Yankee

Do You Even Speak American English?

What ringtone suits your personality?

Godfather theme

'What ringtone suits your personality?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Why do I bother?

That thing...

The other evening chez String of Purls, at the weekly Stitch 'n Bitch, I mentioned a few things that I promised I would post so that people could like, you know--check them out.

Sadly, I forget what most of them were. But this one, I actually remember:

Knitting for Boozehags

Enjoy it. I know I do. I'll post again when the wizard gives me a brain. Or something.

Stank.

Stankety-stank-stank. That's what my world is submerged in, right about now. Stank. The temp is stank, the humidity is stank, and the dew point is especially stank. All this stankiness has caused me to--that's right, you guessed it...stank. And when I stank, my knitting gets stank. Everything I'm working on these days smells as if it has its very own sebaceous glands, and those bad boys are completely in overdrive. I'm not sure which is greater--the amount of Febreeze I'm using, or the amount of sweat I'm generating. Suffice it to say, I'm having one helluva time trying to stay on top of this whole Anti-Stank Movement. Did I mention that I've developed yet another allergy to my latest excuse-for-deodorant? It's damn near 40C out-effing-doors, and I manage to get this bad-looking rash on my armpits. Like it's not hot enough on it's own, this thing has the nerve to burn, as well. (Great! More heat!! Bring it on!!!)
Basta. I'm through whining (for now). So that I don't get tossed from any webrings, here's a photo of my latest (albeit, stank) creation. It's a baby bib using Michelle Kissoore's pattern from Spun Magazine. I whipped up this creation with Bertagna Filati's 'Gaudi' ( à propos--doncha think?) in Color No. 70. It's slubby and plied, which should make trying to launder out baby puke a real delight (but hey, I have flaming armpits and killer stench to concern myself with right now...the rest is somebody else's problem).

My efforts with Gable-in-Iced-Orchid continue, as well as several swatches/dishcloths, and a shitload of tanks/camisoles--you know, the usual. I'll post pictures when I'm feeling it, but right now, all I feel is...

Stank. So be nice (or I'll be forced to spray you. And don't think I won't do it, because I definitely will). You've been warned!!

What's Wrong With This Picture?

The really sad part is, this kitchen is still cleaner than mine.

No news, or anything. Just thought I'd add this for the hell of it. Feel free to comment.

Alpaca love (the fun continues...)

Yet Another Obscenely Cute Graphic

It's laid out like this. And it's just in time for all those sheep and wool festivals in the fall, y'all!

(If I can't be entertaining, I can at least do informative).

One.

Time to Hype, Y'all...

Dude, Where's the Violet?

One of the benefits of being stranded here in the obscenely humid Blast Furnace of the Great Plains is getting hip to some of the truly creative and fun knit action out there (although sadly, many of these people come from someplace else, but hey--I won't go there right now...)

But anyway, these two sock-happy knitteristas are simply oozing with infomation, wit, and like any midwesterner worth her salt, are mighty adept at spinning a good yarn! (Sorry about that--I couldn't help it. But you feel me, I'm sure).

So click on the pretty button up there, and check 'em out. They're fun. Truly. Would I lie?! (Well, this time, I'm on the real. Trust me).

Okay, thanks.

The Obligatory Blog Quiz Results.

My Bloginality is ENFP!!!

As an ENFP, you are Extroverted, iNtuitive, Feeling , Perceiving.
This makes your primary focus on Extroverted Intuition with Introverted Feeling.

This is defined as a NF personality, which is part of Carl Jung's Idealist (Identity Seeking) type, and more specifically the Champions or Inspirer.

As a weblogger, you may not be consistent in posts. (Gee, ya think?) Although, if you find a specific focus on their journal or a very flexible manner of writing, it may be more fulfilling. Because you are warm (!) and see so many possibilities in life, you may inspire others to follow in your footsteps with a journal. (Or you'll just make everyone nuts trying to figure out wtf you're all about...)

Ain't they cute?

"Fun Buns"

...Mother found them abandoned near the mailbox. In fact, she didn't know what they were, and asked me to identify them (she feared they were some kind of gopher intent on destroying her well-manicured lawn--shades of Caddyshack, indeed!) Since the weather last week was especially horrid (i.e. hotter than hell and twice as humid) I checked in on them when I went to get the mail Thursday last--only to discover that there was only one bun(-ny) left. He hopped out onto the grass, and nearly into the street! But I attempted to guide his hopping so that he'd land in the big bag of timothy hay I brought out for them to snack on (since there was no hide nor hare (ha!) of a Mama Bunny around. So I guided him into a little box with lots of hay, and we headed off to the humane society (because Miss Pearl and wild bunnies aren't a good mix).

Since this global warming thing you know, heated up, the yard is basically some kind of homeland for wild rabbits--and they're all over the place. Actually, I prefer them to opossums--they're kind of homely, and also like most everyone here, rather overweight.

Okay, bye.

A Little Passive-Aggressive Fun 'n Games

This photo was taken while Mother was totally out of it, during a recent nap. The enormous furry blue-green lumpy heart-shaped pillow was plopped in her lap, and she didn't even flinch! In fact, if nobody ever mentions it to her, she'll be none the wiser.

You know, there's something deliciously evil about knowing that anyone in the world with time to waste and a decent connection can see this...

N.B.: The pillow was eventually given to our dear friend Fredericka, who is well into her 90s, and appreciates the sentiment behind the gift, if not it's lumpy, furry splendor. She (unlike Yours Truly), has a very kind heart to go with her new pillow.

Gable in Iced Orchid

This is my version of the pattern 'Green Gable.' As you can see, it's in no way green. Instead, I chose a lovely shade of pink (No. 1086) in KFI's King Tut (I liked the sheen). Sadly, the pattern stopped just short of meeting the needs of my 'full-figured boobs,' so I was forced to do a bit of math to enlarge it accordingly. Hopefully my alterations will allow for a tasteful adaptation to my massive melons(?) while diminishing the prominence of my gut. If not, I'll just suck in a lot while wearing it.

It's my goal to finish this thing before the end of this year. Wish me luck.

The Story of "Armando's" Anal-Retentive Bike Tour & Hygiene Festival

So...Thursday evening rolls around, just like it does every week, and I decide to go to String of Purls for a little SnB. And on this particular occasion, I decide to park myself near This Lady (whom I promised not to name because I'm about to repeat this tripped-out story about her husband, and this thing he did during a recent cycling trip in Colorado...)

It's laid out like this:

This totally would have simplified things
more than we'll ever know.

Her husband, whom I will refer to as 'Armando' (because I like that name) was on this crazy long, intensive cycling trip and had pedalled his way to Telluride, where there was nary a laudromat to be found. The nearest town with such facilities was 50 miles away, and a very mountainous 50 miles, at that. So he got the idea to shower with his clothes on, so he could get a two-fer (you know, scrub himself down, as well as his gear).

I found this to be uproariously funny, yet anal-retentive as all get out.

So that's why I'm posting it here. I told The Lady I was going to out her husband and his goofy little story here on my blog, but that was like three weeks ago...(hey, I been real busy). Just so I don't come across as a complete liar, I'm posting it late. Actually, the real reason I'm posting it so late, is because I've been depressed as hell, which is what happens whenever I get trapped in the reddest of the red states on earth (that would be here, for those of you who aren't already hip).

Okay, well, it's past my suppertime, so I gots ta go now....

One,
- D.

P.S. If you want real names and identities, I'm open to bribery. Especially if it involves yarn...try me!

Meanwhile...

In an effort to cheer myself up, here's a photo of Eva Longoria, sans maquillage:
There now. Don't you feel better? I know I do.

Holla!

Pissed off; and yet...

Some things defy regulation, doncha think?

...I have managed to get stuck in this bucolic hellhole yet again.

When I'm able to circumvent the ultra-bland force field that has sucked all the chi from my very being, I'll tell you exactly how this travesty began. As for now, send positive, healing thoughts my way, because I seem to have racked up a veritable shitload of bad-travel karma, come of late.

And Mona, not-to-worry. I have your Mountain Colors Bearfoot in Mountain Tango, and Joe sends his regards. For real.

I kind of like this one.

Exotic Dancer Name Is...

Felony

Exotic Dancer Name Generator

Time for me to go now...

You know, I've been in Omaha for approximately three weeks, and apathy has already set in. I'd post more, but in all honesty, I'm not hyped.

My knitting continues (okay, mostly ripping out stuff I've attempted to knit), I managed to get devoured by any number of biting insects in places I can't begin to scratch in public, and my Mother is still able to get on my last nerve, even while she's asleep (as she has mastered the art of whining while snoring while farting and flopping about restlessly like a dying fish). I've developed some kind of weird addiction to Arby's Sourdough Ham & Cheese Melts (mostly because they're not fried and they're cheap), and as if this place isn't already repressive enough, the town is overrun by Britney Spears wannabees serving as groupies for the shitload of baseball players here for the annual College World Series. Once upon a time, baseball used to be fun for me to watch, however in my middle-age, my patience for sweaty, drunken midwesternerers and their slack-jawed offspring has essentially evaporated. They're all so "wholesome" and oozing with how-do-you-say, "family-values" it's enough to induce projectile vomiting. (I hate them so much, right now...)

That's about all for my rant--now, I have to go strip down and commence to scratching like a baboon. The only calamine lotion in the house is so old, it doesn't even have a UPC code on the bottle. You think that stuff goes bad after say, 17 years?

Wish me luck...ciao fo' now.

Do I Make You Proud...?

I adore CanCon as much as the next person. But this makes me positively burst with pride!

Just make sure you have your speakers on, and for gawd's sake, don't even think about checking this out at work.

Thank you.

She's back...(see?)

Obligatory Knitting Content
featuring The Back of My Head

Finally, I have arrived in the land of Berkshire-Hathaway. I got here Monday, however, I've been too wasted to post until now. Big ups to everyone in my knitting posses who sent warm wishes and words of encouragement--they are greatly appreciated.

Tuesday, I presented the knitters at Mangelsen's with cheap-ass loonie candy from Dollarama, and a shitload of Coffee Crisp (I think they liked it, Mikey)! Who knew?

...At first I thought it just said R.I.P.

Thursday, I reconnected with the gang (and I use that term in the least violent way possible) at String of Purls. Carin, the official Nurse of our weekly SnB's, presented me with this incredibly charming-yet-practical baby sock that doubles as a stich marker holder (and inside were five of the cutest stitch markers that matched, no less)! How crafty is that shit? Color me amazed.

Lorna (who is abnormally thoughtful) brought a big ol' bag of scones, freshly baked by her sister. Naturally, I took the few leftovers home. Mother attempted to steal them, but I caught her during one of her rooting episodes and managed to get them away from her. And here's the deal--if you take the fragments at the bottom of the bag and put them in a bowl with a dollop of butter and a few squirts of honey, they taste great after you nuke 'em for a few secs. Try it--you'll like it.

Dead Folks doing what they do best.

The annual Death Tour has been split into fragments, due to the incredibly ginormous monkey wrench the Ass Clowns threw into our travel plans. Monday, I went from Lachine at 6h to Hiawatha, Kansas at 18h, then back to Omaja by 21h. We got back just before the thunder and lightning started . But I managed to get in a few pics for your viewing pleasure.

Miss Pearl the guinea pig is doing well, and I look forward to visiting relatives from whom I've begged favors while I was away. Right now however, I'm sigining off, as it's time for me to begin the semi-regular ritual of cramps, bloating, and what Madison Avenue euphemistically once called "The Joy of Being A Woman."

Analgesics are always welcome.

Shalom, y'all.

Okay, I think I can type now...

This is the short version, because I'm still suffering from PTSD when I try to discuss the whole debacle:

• AC (which now stands for Ass Clowns) finally deliered my bags chez moi.
• This, after they lost them IN DORVAL AT THE GODDAMN AIRPORT for three days!!
• I will attempt to make an appearance in Omaja, beginning Monday.
• Hopefully I will get to knit with my beloved knitting friends soon, because
• MY NERVES CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS SHIT MUCH LONGER.
  

And thank you so much, for voting for Taylor. It is the single bright spot in my PMS-laden, menopausal, mentally disturbed world.

And Now, For A Public Service Announcement:

Air Canada
You Suck.
(a lot!!)
we now return you to your regularly scheduled surfing...

Unfinished Bidness...(ongoing, anyway).

Okay, I'm annoyed to the max that Sympatico has cut my DSL connection for reasons that nobody (here or there) seems to know. This means I am struggling through the long holiday weekend on dial-up of all things! This sucks to the utmost, and I hate it a lot.

You see, another one of my knitting friends needs to have her blog hyped to the max, so I had planned to do this with lots of graphics, some shockwave, and a link to some porn site. Sadly, the entire mess with my ISP has pretty much made that an exercise in futility. Therefore, I present to you, the stripped-down, quick and dirty version of hype, Deawn-style:

Read This Blog!
It's So Fabulous...

Usually, people that accomplished don't cop to knowing me, much less show kindness to a disturbed, shiftless, hypertensive diva such as Yours Truly. But that just goes to show what a beautiful person she is, inside and out.

Guess I'll close for now, but first, allow me to grovel for a favor that could prove bloody inconvenient for all involved. Just my luck, I'll be in Chi-town right at the time that the final episode of American Idol airs! Now, you know I'm not really into that sort of thing, but I am completely into Taylor Hicks, the Ultimate Showman with Geek Style Extraordinaire. So, if anybody out there wants to tape Wednesday evening's show for me, I'd be so grateful, that I would consider compensation in monetary or yarnish form. Please advise.

And don't forget. Vote for Taylor--early and often.

Thank you.

So fibertastic.

Those of you wondering what kind of fiber-filled fun I engage in while trapped in Omaha(ha-ha-ha-ha), need not wait any longer. I present for your perusal, scenes of crochetin', knittin', spinnin', and grinnin'.

Mica models her masterpiece
Chez Mangelsen's

Would you belive Mica's shrug began as a tablecloth? Her exquisite artistic vision morphed it into a shrug. Lily Chin really must step aside--Mica is the world's fastest crocheter!

Minnie socks it to us, baby.

Minnie is examining ways of turning her passion for spinning (and knitting) into a cottage industry. Read all about it (and so much more) at her blog, Muses of a Dragon Mad Knitter.

Carin appears as "The Spinning Nurse"
featuring Jen's Spinning Wheel

Carin has recently discovered the "Joy of Spinning" and relaxes by knitting stuff, furnishing her new home, yet still manages to work tirelessly as the unofficial Florence Nightengale of String of Purl's Sit & Knit on Thursdays. Read about it on her blog, Keeping Me In Stitches.

Although I'm missing a visual, I encourage you to browse by Erin's blog Titanium Rose. She's cool, it's cool, and I'd be ever so remiss if I didn't mention it.

So there you have it. A brief glimpse of some of the knitters I've met during my exile. Think of it as a really long virtual fiber that connects us all through cyberspace.

Can you dig it? ...I knew that you could.

More later, and remember: Vote for Taylor .

I'm all the way in the Soul Patrol, y'all.

You have simply GOT to cheer for this guy, even if you don't bother with that whole American Idol mishegoss. The only reason I got caught up in it is because my mother insisted upon watching it, and well--I love a good train wreck. But the fact is, since the very beginning,when we saw this spastic white guy (with a luscious gray mane), trying to resurrect Brotha Ray, we took notice. I mean, he's got this voice that shouldn't come outta that body, and for a change, we agreed on something, Mummy and I--and that is, this guy is effing out there! I mean, he's straight up spastic. Yet it doesn't matter, because he's having a real good time on stage. But most of all, he's talented, as well. And that really ought to count for something. (Especially since Mandisa and Paris ain't on there no more).

The thing that nailed it for me is that this guy has two pet goldfish named Lamont and Ray. The Pisces in me loves that they have their own blog. The outcast in me appreciates just how weird that is for a grown man to do, but he goes on ahead and does it anyway. That shows he hasn't totally gone big time, and recognizes the beauty in all creatures, great and small, if you get my drift (sorry...I couldn't resist).

Oh sure, Katharine was positively killer with her rendition of "Over The Rainbow." But when you consider how week after week, Mista T always managed to bring it, even when they made him sing a song that wasn't of his own choosing at the last minute ("Just Once"). What a trooper!

Therefore, I expect all of you South o' The Border to do the righteous thing, and make sure Taylor wins the entire shit.

Any questions? (I din't think so...)

Bad place to take a vacation...

...and you wouldn't want to have to spend your winters there, either. As for those of us who do, read more about it, right here:

I took this picture one day while killing time (sorry) before contemplating a visit to the gym. I had just finished this entormous, cholesterol-laden sandwich when it occurred to me that his has got to look strange to people from outside the area. Dig it-- What's more, someone actually had the bright idea to make an entire burial ground for butterflies. What's more, whoever made the sign can't spell for shit, because they inadvertantly added an extra 'i' when hammering out the authentic wrought iron. So I wiped my greasy mouth, and snapped a photo for all the world to see. If you look carefully, you can see the red and white 'KENO' sign in the lower section. What better spot for an insect burial ground than the back yard of a keno parlor! (Who needs city planning anyway?)

See? Omaha really is a 'No Fun Allowed' Zone!

As if that wasn't enough to completely blow your mind, I decided to take this picture, while waiting for something (anything, really) to happen, across the street from La Casa de los Muertos. After 6 in the evening, you can loiter, scratch, fence stolen property, and purchase drugs to your heart's delight. But during normal business hours, don't even think about it! (You've been warned).

But here's the good news--four of my five boxes shipped have arrived, as of this posting. I expect to get the last one today (or tomorrow, since the mail dude only bothers to deliver mail three days out of the week). Something tells me I'm damn lucky to get stuff that often, since he doesn't appear to be the sharpest tool in the shed. More news as it develops...stay tuned.

Ben voyons donç !

(If I actually said that in France,
they'd have yet another reason
to wonder why 'I talk funny...')

Your Inner European is French!

Smart and sophisticated. You have the best of everything - at least, *you* think so.

Who's Your Inner European?