July 26, 2007

Robin's House of Fashion Disasters

Oh, the laziness! My parents left this morning and I stayed in my pajamas all day. Granted, I also did six loads of laundry and cleaned, so I guess it wasn't all laziness. I just feel lazy when I stay in pajamas (by "pajamas" I mean yoga pants and a t-shirt; I'm as well-dressed as most people in my old neighborhood on a fancy day).

This isn't a knitting blog, you know. It's a blog by someone who happens to knit. When I'm completely void of interesting stories, you get to look at what I'm knitting. It's socks. All the time with the socks. Did you know I have set a personal goal for myself to knit every pattern in Sensational Knitted Socks. I've already completed a pair for my mom and a pair for a friend from the book. Since the end of Boob-Ha-Ha, I've wanted to do nothing but knit, so I should be finished with the book sometime in 2014 instead of my originally-projected 2016.

See? I don't tell you people everything.

I finished yet another sock last night, in lovely yarn dyed by Rachel. Wanna see?

Elongated Corded Rib sock

In my continued learning, I learned to not leave a lone, hand-knitted sock made with expensive yarn within reach of a three-year-old:

Why hand-knit socks shouldn't be left in the reach of thieving children.

Legwarmeresque, with Velcro sandals and a bike short front-wedgie. At least I wasn't the worst-dressed member of the household today.

Posted by Robin at 10:03 PM | Comments (4)

April 22, 2007

Yarns

No, I'm not going to blog solely about knitting today, although there will be knitting content.

Dear, sweet Rachel, with the beautiful fuzzy head, did a great job of reading between the lines on my last post. She realized that I while I was joking, I was pretty well worn-out. She's astute that way. We met at Kaldi's for lunch, coffee, knitting, and some much-needed gut-spilling on Saturday. And she brought me some more of her wonderful hand-dyed sock yarn! Worthy? Me? Not even slightly. Spoiled? Most certainly.

Socks a-plenty!

That's her handywork on the right, the gorgeous deep pink and black. It's called Derby Girl, in honor of the Arch Rival Roller Girls. Hand-dyed sock yarn and roller derby - what's not perfect about that combo?

After lunch we went to Knitorious, the yarn shop that employs Rachel, the other Rachel, Tammy, and I can't remember who else. Sandy, the owner, of course. Those are the folks who let me come in and fondle yarns, loiter, talk to the help and prevent them from doing real work, and occasionally nap on their oh so comfy couch.

The thing that cracks me up about going to Knitorious is that my blogging reputation preceeds me, thanks to Rachel. She introduced them to my blog via the story about my neighbors' dog having a wiener dog stuck on his wiener. Apparently, Tammy has grounded Rachel from telling the story because she just can't take it anymore. I understand. I had to find other horrific stories to tell yesterday. It wasn't difficult.

Sandy and I had a long discussion about poop, to which Rachel yelled, "My God, Robin! Do you talk about anything but poop anymore?" No, I don't. You can either listen to me talk about poop, or bitch about my house. If I were you, I'd go with poop, because at least it's funny.

Besides, what else are you going to talk about when you're at a building where someone is performing a Reiki healing session on the toilet?

Not that the Reiki healer was sitting on the toilet. I mean, she was trying to heal the toilet, which really doesn't sound much better. Regardless, I picked up some Reiki tips on selling my damn crapshack, which I intend to shamelessly borrow. Much like burying St. Joe in the front yard, I'm going to borrow from as many religions and belief systems as possible. So far it's working really well for me, don't you think?

Anyway, Saturday was good. As much as I love sitting on my ass in front of the TV while I knit, there's something wonderful about knitting with others. I don't know if it's the lack of eye contact, since we're often looking at our work, or just the act of being in the same place at the same time doing the same thing that loosens tongues and inhibitions. Whatever it is, I needed that yesterday. The free yarn and poop stories helped, too.

Posted by Robin at 04:30 PM | Comments (5)

February 21, 2007

Socks Make Me Feel Better

In the midst of the house-buying, birthday-partying, devil-worshipping frenzy of the past week, I've neglected to mention that I'm sick. Nothing serious, just the typical late-winter bug that's creating horrible monsters in my lungs that demand release. I'll spare you the details beyond that.

We left Clara Jane with my parents on Monday, because we're bad heathen parents, but also because we wanted to get some work done on the house in hopes that the recent upswing in the temperatures would lead to lots and lots of potential buyers parading through to view it.

Somehow, I don't think spending a day and a half, prone on the couch with my knitting added anything to the value of my home. In fact, I'm pretty sure I decreased its value with the oodles of germs I've sneezed all over the place.

But hey! I finished knitting that first pair of socks as a gift for one of my favorite blog-readers! I even tried them on my germ-addled feet.

First completed socks

The socks aren't as crooked as they look, but my feet are. On normal feet, I'm sure they'll look much less slanty.

First completed socks

The heels look pretty snazzy, I think. Let's not talk about how the right sock is a tad longer than the left. I think the sock receipiant might possibly have one leg about an inch longer than the other. And they won't be nearly so 1987ishy scrunched-up. That's just an artifact of my beefy calves.

If you look in the background, you'll noticed Chloe, my Basset hound, who doesn't give a flying fuck about knitting and who, at times, is openly hostile towards the hobby. She likes to sleep in my knitting spot and often gets removed when I want to knit.

Today, the weather was delightful, so I pitched the dogs outside. It's much more relaxing to knit without the hateful glare of a hound or two. I had to pick up Clara Jane in the afternoon, so I spent my morning commencing work on sock #2, the Jaywalker. Would you like to see my sick-day, kidless knitting set-up in lieu of real content?

Give me a break. I was too sick to attend the usual Tuesday night knitting frenzy I usually attend. I'm a lonely knitter this week and I'm going to demand a bit of your attention.

My sick day knitting set-up

This fulfills one of the goals I was supposed to complete during Clara Jane's absence; I was going to take photos of the house to send to my real estate agent. And while these photos showcase our original hardwood floors and the glorious amount of natural light in our living room, something tells me that the focus on my virus-crawling tootsies won't help me sell my house.

Posted by Robin at 08:01 PM | Comments (7)

February 10, 2007

Shit Mittens & Table Socks

It scared me a little bit when my Shit Mittens post from last June was mentioned not once, but twice in the comments this week. Why? Because as I mentioned in yesterday's post, the Pudding girls came over for lunch and playing. This is the first time Angela has allowed her girls back into my home since the day my child, both hands covered with her own fecal matter, was playing with her eldest. I'm sure the poop attire had nothing to do with this lack of time at our house. Really. But would you blame them if it was? I sure wouldn't.

Yesterday's lunch couldn't have been more lovely. The girls had a delightful time. No one cried. No one crapped her world and thought it would be a good idea to have the whole world in her hands. But I did have this terrifying moment, courtesy of three-year-old MC Pudding:

MC(walking into the dining room): Clara Jane made a big mess!
Me (silently praying): What kind of mess, MC?
MC: She stuck her hands in and pulled everything out!
Me: What did she pull out?
My brain (which only I can hear): It's poop! Clara Jane's pulled poop out of everyone's pants! And it's all over her room. Look! MC has some on her hand! Yeah, I know she just ate an Oreo, but how do you know that's Oreo chocolateyness and not your child's poop? Huh? Dammit, Christine and Kim! This is all your fault for mentioning Shit Mittens in the comments! Ban their IP addresses right this very minute!!!
Me: What did she pull out?
MC: Toys.
Me: From the toy box?
MC: Yeah. They're aaaaaaaaaaaaall over her room.

I've have never been so happy to hear of a room in my house being trashed with toys in my entire three years of motherhood.

Christine and Kim, my brain would like to offer you an apology.

Speaking of gross things for appendages...

Ta da!

That's right. I finished knitting my first sock. There it is, on my unwashed foot, which is on my dining room table. We are nothing but class here at Chez Poppy.

Are you checking out my backside? Well, you should, because that's one fine-ass heel turn right there.

Keep in mind that this sock (and its eventual mate, which I started this morning) are a gift for one of my readers. Who knows? It could be you. And there it is, parked on my sweaty foot that hadn't been bathed in well over 12 hours, on my legs that haven't been shaved in a long, long time. Happy birthday! I love you! Have a bunch of my DNA and some hand-knit socks as a token of my fondness.

Speaking of sock-knitting ...

On Thursday, while Clara Jane was at daycare, I finally got myself down to Knitorious' lovely new home. One of my favorite things in the world happened while I was there. I overheard the owner talking to an employee named Rachel, to which I called, "S T L Rachel Knits dot Com?" Because yes, I've reached the point of geekdom where I refer to people by their URLs. No, she was a different Rachel, and I babbled something about Rachel and I both having blogs, and hoping I'd run into her at the store, since she works there.

"What's your blog?" Rachel #2 asked, and I told her. To which she, who had been soft-spoken and quiet to that point, squealed, "OH MY GOD! That story about your neighbors' dogs having sex in your yard was so funny!" Which, of course, led to me telling the story of the dachshund/sheltie/beagle unholy union to everyone at Knitorious. I would like to think this is why they allowed me to paw through a box of yarn that was delivered while I was there, thus making me the first knitter in St. Louis to own a skein of Jitterbug sock yarn. In Marble, for those of you keeping score, although I very nearly bought Jay instead. Fire was in the running, too. Oh, let's be honest: if they'd offered me a hank of each color in exchange for taking off my clothes and running around the block, I probably would have obliged.

Several times of late, I've gotten emails from readers to the tune of "I think I saw you at Hartford/Trader Joe's/Spanky's/parked outside Jeff Tweedy's parents' house, but I was afraid I'd bother you/embarassed to admit I read your blog/concerned you'd think I'm a stalker if I did."

Please. If you see me in public, by all means say hello! It makes my day. Truly. As much as I love making a fool of myself on the internet, I live to make a fool of myself in public. Please don't deny me these opportunities. Without constant attention, I wither and die. You don't want to be responsible for that, now, do you?

I will promise you, however, that if you come up to me at a restaurant, I'll do my best to keep my feet off the table and Clara Jane's hands out of her pants.

Posted by Robin at 11:54 AM | Comments (7)

November 29, 2006

Day Twenty-Nine - The Scary Room

Do you have any idea how pissed off I'll be if I wake up with no power tomorrow because of the massive winter storm that's coming to destroy us all and I'm unable to post? You have no idea. Winter's wrath? Nothing compared to Robin's Wrath From Posting Every Damn Day for a Month and Getting Canned on Day 30.

Remember the deal with NaBloPoMo? How, if you didn't post daily, you should at least comment a bunch for those of us who are posting daily? You've totally fallen down on the jobs, you lazy slacks. Delurk, dammit.

I have a new sewing machine, which I ordered last week. I'm thrilled because, unlike my old sewing machine, this one doesn't weigh as much as my truck. It's plastic, and it feels flimsy after years of sewing on a machine made from Army tank metal, but I don't care because I can pick it up without the need for a lifting brace.

I wasn't home to receive my sewing machine delivery, and when I saw the UPS sticker on my door, I figured I'd have to wait until tomorrow to get my machine. Not the case, as the UPS carrier probably doesn't want to navigate the steep, usually unsalted road in front of my house. The note simply said, "under back porch".

I don't have a back porch.

I went to the backyard, expecting to to find the package under the flight of stairs that lead to the backdoor. No package.

I checked to make sure the dogs hadn't stolen it to make sparkly, scanty costumes for their Vegas act. No sewing dogs.

I peeked into the scary room, which really isn't a room at all. The previous owners built on a room to the back of our house that extends past the basement. The room's basically on stilts surrounded by flimsy walls. We removed the door several years ago. Or rather, our next door neighbor, Boy, removed the door for us by throwing a cinder block at it repeatedly. That's okay. Without a door, the scary room might seem a little less appealing to neighborhood junkies looking for a new crack den in which to squat.

Speaking of squatting, we have a toilet in the scary room. It's not hooked up to anything. It's just there. I can't recall why. I think Boy's parents gave it to us to replace the wobbly one in our bathroom.

You know, the more I write about the scary room and its contents, the more I realize that every single thing about the scary room requires explaination. In hindsight, I probably could have spent the entire month explaining the scary room and I wouldn't have run out of material. Anyway.

Boy's father worked in maintenance for an apartment complex and was always giving us cast-offs. I had an army of cast-off refrigerators in my basement during my catering days, thanks to Boy's day (Big Boy?). Although now that I think about it, who the hell wants a second-hand (second-ass?) toilet?

Point is, my sewing machine was perched on the toilet in the scary room. For obvious reasons that cracked me up, but not enough for me to go back inside and get my camera.

December is going to be NaShuUp&SewMo - National Shut Up and Sew Month.

Posted by Robin at 09:14 PM | Comments (13)

November 12, 2006

Day Twelve - Lazy Day Dots

This is the first day of NaBloPoMo that I haven't been chomping at the bit to post. Why? Laziness. I didn't have the best night's sleep last night, and I've wanted nothing more than to have a lazy, do-nothing day. But I committed to post, and post I must. But what's there to say on a lazy, do-nothing day?

Posted by Robin at 05:21 PM | Comments (10)

September 30, 2006

The Stupidest Knitter & Basket-Hanger in All the Land

Even if you have no interest in knitting, read on. There's much humiliation afoot.

In the summer of 2005, I started working on my very first sweater. It was to be a lovely little zip-front hoodie for Clara Jane. When we last checked in with the sweater over a year ago, it was looking like this:

In times of duress, when I needed my medication adjusted and I was sure the Boobah was going to exercise on me in my sleep, the unfinished hoodie could be employed as a Congressionally-approved torture device:

Oh, and there were sleeves. Lots and lots of sleeves:

I spent a lot of years living by a power plant when I was in college, not to mention growing up in the shadow of a chemical plant that emitted toxins that caused annual evacuations of our neighborhood. If it was around June 20th, we knew to start packin'. It's entirely possible that Clara Jane might sprout that third arm, and I'm prepared to provide for her specialized clothing needs when that happens.

Actually, what really happened was, when I knit the second sleeve I screwed up the stripe pattern badly enough to require sleeve #3.

Fast forward 15 months. The sweater has spent this time in a clear plastic tub in my craft closet, mocking me. When I finished knitting and realized I would be required to seam this beast together, I became frightened, locked it in a box, and willed it to seam itself via the magic of time and Rubbermaid.

It didn't happen, so on Friday, I put on my protective headgear, removed the tub o' sweater, and spent a whopping 15 minutes seaming the right side, feeling mightily stupid for being afraid of that. Easy peasy.

Hmmm. I could have sworn I had two sleeves and a spare.

And then I remembered. About six weeks ago I was cleaning our junk room, home to many unfinished craft endeavors, and I came upon the mutant freak-stripe sleeve. "I won't be needing this! This is the bad sleeve! Off you go!" And into the trash it went.

Turns out, that was the good sleeve. Maybe. If it was the bad sleeve, that means I threw out the other good sleeve long ago.

Either way, Clara Jane's three-sleeved sweater is now a half-sweater, half-sweater-vest hybrid.

To distract attention away from my own stupidity, I'm going to tell you about something dumb B. did tonight. Sort of.

Many weeks ago, I bought a 3-tier hanging basket, because we're tired of having rotting piles of produce taking up valuable counter space. Being the engineer that he is, B. has been hard at work, drawing up diagrams and doing calculus and shit to find the best way to suspend this do-hickey from our kitchen ceiling. The final plan: drill holes in the ceiling, go to the attic, and somehow attach the the basket to the rafters of the house. Or something. I'm not an engineer, so I don't fully understand.

All I know is I spent a portion of my evening on the balls of my feet in the kitchen, bouncing up and down, pleasuing the two holes in my kitchen ceiling with a dismantled wire coat hanger while B. walked around the attic in search of my probing love hanger.

He never did find it.

I'm going to remember this next time he ridicules the previous owners of the house for doing this to our living room ceiling:

Okay, I was going to show you a photo I just took of our living room ceiling, which is dotted with rows and rows of neat little holes, ending in a plant hook that's been painted 26 times. We've always made fun of the previous owners for being too stupid to use, say, a stud finder, opting instead to use the trial-and-error method.

Who's laughing now, Punk?

I was also going to show you a photo of our household's reigning Queen of Stupid, Murphy, who doesn't know how to sleep on a pillow. Unfortunately, everyone who lives in this house has become too stupid to operate the camera.

Posted by Robin at 10:36 PM | Comments (4)

January 02, 2006

Tying Up Loose Ends

I've got lots of little tidbitty things that I'm going to get out of my system, since I've been good at the long-winded, verbose prose of late.

1. B. returns to work tomorrow and life returns to normal.

2. It's January 2nd, and our Christmas tree is still up. I've become everything I've ever hated.

3. There's a new blogging project in the works. Details to follow.

4. And yet, I'm making plans to spend less time on blogging-related pursuits. I've barely touched the book project during the holidays and I'm chomping to get back to it. Also, the crafty stuff ... This isn't a resolution per se, but I'm going to try to finish at least one crafty project per week. I've got so many things started, and so many things I want to make.

I have been knitting after a brief break. I made scarves for Clara Jane's daycare teachers:





These were done in some German yarn whose name escapes me ... it's a merino wool/acrylic blend that feels like jersey. The pattern was modified (because I kept screwing up) from one in Last Minute Knitted Gifts. The blue scarf truly was last-minute. I finished it on Clara Jane's last day before winter break. For two hours I watched Rattle & Hum, chatted with my codependent fellow yarn whore and her partner in schmoop, and frantically knit until my fingerprints burned off, just in time for my pre-holiday crime spree.

I also made a hat:


Clara Jane's class did a hat tree; every kid brought a new hat which were donated to needy kids. I modified the Umbilical Hat from Stitch n' Bitch to fit a toddler. The yarn's Bernat Cotton Tots. The model is about to eat those crayons.

For Christmas B. got me a gorgeous shirt and the U2 book listed on the right. I got him a box of yarn and an IOU. It's getting better, because it's turning into this:

In upcoming knitting news, I'm tinkering with doing a fundraiser for The Cuz's Breast Cancer 3-Day team. Interested in buying a boobie scarf or a pair of boobies, hand-knit by me, with 100% of the proceeds going to the 3-Day? Watch this space.

I'm also wanting to drag out my older-than-me sewing machine. I've got several quilting projects in the works, and some purse, curtain, and dishtowel patterns mocking me. I bought this the other day:


Lovely fabric that promotes smoking, drinking and the excessive use of Aqua-Net. It'll make a great purse, don't you think?

5. My kid. I'm sure you want some funny stories about my kid, right? She's obsessed with the book Everyone Poops. It's all poop, all the time at our house these days. And in public, too. The first page of the book goes something like this: "An elephant makes a big poop. A mouse makes a tiny poop." On Friday we had lunch at our local Indian dive. Elephants abound in Indian restaurants - lots of elephant artwork and alters to Ganesha. Clara Jane clearly had elephants on the brain, and she loudly informed our server that, "An elephant makes a big poop!". Then she entertained the neighboring diners with her rendition of "Jingle Bells".

Verbose prose will return tomorrow.

Posted by Robin at 11:19 AM | Comments (7)

July 24, 2005

Knitting update

I've added photos of two new projects to the links on the right.

Posted by Robin at 11:14 PM | Comments (1)

July 14, 2005

Goddamn sweater update

Actually, it's not too bad. I've come to a degree of acceptance about the three-sleeve situation, and the shorter sleeve situation. And I totally fixed the hood situation. Take a look.

Now, I just have to sew it all together without burning down the house.

Posted by Robin at 05:24 PM | Comments (4)

June 26, 2005

Hoodie update

There's a new photo update of the baby hoodie I'm currently knitting. I managed to finish the actual hood today, when I wasn't dodging baby vomit.

And cat vomit.

And baby diarrhea.

And human diarrhea.

And dog blood.

Next project: knit myself a hazmat suit.

The kiddo's doing much better. She hasn't puked in over 12 hours, although she's had a few diapers that have made the neighborhood dogs weep with joy at their vileness. Despite that, she's been doing her usual plundering, so hopefully the bug's on its way out.

Posted by Robin at 10:56 PM | Comments (0)