A small diatribe.

Warmth is returning to the Midwest in fits and spurts. (I don't mind the rain in springtime. The sun is dominant, now.) And with the warmth comes retail therapy. About this time every year, I look into my closet, my drawers, my plastic under-bed bins, and cry, "I have nothing to wear!" I wonder how I ever got through last summer with such shabby rags. Disgraceful. Then I wonder why I didn't save any money to go shopping, because this is nothing new. I should know better! So I go shopping. And this year has not been unlike the rest: Once again I am facing what has gradually become my summer clothing nemesis, the dreaded cap sleeve.

Why -- oh why? -- must every stinkin' blouse on the racks have this half-assed attempt at sleeves? How many real women possess the taut, meatless, sun-kissed triceps of a Brazilian model that can suffice with mere capping? Let's see a show of hands. [chirp chirp chirp] Exxxx-actly.

It's not just the cap sleeve on every T-shirt, it's the endless "feminizing" of sleeve construction that baffles me. Okay, so a woman's body is different. We need some darts, some pleats, a bit of tucking here and there to make the thing work around all those natural curves. (And yet many blouses seem to be built for Barbies -- itty-bitty waist, long torso, huge boobs. With this shaping, 3/4 of the world's women must consider themselves "petite" in order to find a fitted blouse.) Even when they give us a sleeve, these days, there is something annoying about it. It's bell-shaped, it's flared, it's a gigantic floating piece of trim that fails to hide your bra at the underarm. And this year, I've seen a lot of this: The most basic blouses out there have poof sleeves with banded cuffs. I HATE those. What is the deal? I don't want to shop in the granny section at Kohl's to find a blouse with straight sleeves. I want to waltz into Anthropologie and find something that doesn't make me look a) baby-ish b) hussy-fied or c) some garish Lolita-type combination of both.

Just give me some sleeves, puh-lease.

[end diatribe]

I've been planning my yard. The sod was a hit with the dogs, and it seems to be doing very well, despite its constant abuse. I'm now trying to decide which shrubs to buy, and where to place them, and, subsequently, where to plant flower and ornamental grass seeds.

Hoping to work up the energy to take and post knitting photos.

Really, just soaking in Spring, here. Breathing huge sighs of relief and pollen. There is a light at the end of the job-tunnel, too, which helps my mental state immensely. I'm poking around the innernets, looking for something new.

I'm going to a wedding party on Saturday (they eloped in December) -- am excited at the prospect of wearing a dress and maybe even heels!! White legs and all....

:)

Cripes almighty.

You have got to be kidding me.

California nia!

Whatever else I might say about my job, it is Very Cool to have a spring break. One week of it was spent at home-home in Wisconsin. When I arrived, everyone was sick or becoming sick -- like, the worst-flu-symptoms-you-can-think-of sick. But I and my brother Jack were spared. Only the strong survive. I wonder how I'd fare in a zombie outbreak.........
Okay, this post is going the wrong direction. Time to switch gears. (I can't help it -- I've been catching up on Marin's blog and the Zombie Apocalypse is on the brain.) Anyhow, I had a loverly time once the bug ran its course.

After a few days back at my pad in Chicago, running errands and vacuuming and the likes, honey and I were off to Los Angeles for a real live vacation. The weather was gorgeous and we had a great time, blah blah blah. But seriously. The weather was fantastic, at least by my Midwestern standards. It was chilly after the sun went down, and we had a couple cloudy mornings. But the pervading sunny-ness and blue-ness of the sky cleared up any residual S.A.D. still fogging my qi. I would be packing my house and dogs up right now if I could fathom living so far away from loved ones.

Los Angeles itself is not the ideal California location, I think. The whole driving thing is a MESS. If I could afford to cloister myself in Malibu, well, maybe I could bear L.A. Otherwise I think I'd have to head up Santa Cruz way.

First, we went to the mountains. The Santa Monica Mountains, to be exact. Topanga State Park. I had wanted to see Topanga Canyon ever since I saw the beautiful house, in that location, on Six Feet Under. (Remember the crazy hippie aunt?) I would have loved to spend more time there. The little hippie town of Topanga is a trip. Notable residents have been: Woody Guthrie, Joni Mitchell, Neal Young, Jim Morrison, Mick Fleetwood, Emmylou Harris, and of course Charles Manson and his lovely Family. You get the idea.

Max was not happy with his organic lemon-lime soda at a local pit stop, but you aren't going to find much else in a village where the best-known restaurant is the Inn of the Seventh Ray. There were lots of ranches in the hills. I would have loved to go horseback riding! Next time....




Next, we went to the ocean. Max and his sister and her squeeze took surfing lessons on Manhattan Beach. They "got their shit tossed," as Max aptly put it. I stayed on the beach and enjoyed a leisurely walk in the nice, sun-warmed sand.

Like little kids that get extra big crayons and pencils, the novice surfer gets an extra big board. So everyone knows you suck even before you get in the water.

They did eventually get to try it out in the water. Not much to show from that point, however. At least not that Max would want you to see.

And of course, we made the trip into the Hollywood Hills in order to get as close as possible to The Sign. We drove up Beachwood Canyon to the dead end, a horseback riding ranch, which I think would get you even closer, if you really really needed to be that close....

Hooray for Hollywood!

View of Hollywood and greater Los Angeles beyond. We heard a pack of cayotes making quite a lot of noise. Odd because it was the middle of the day. I've heard them before, elsewhere, but only at night. Hollywood cayotes are obviously more outgoing. Did not see any roadrunners.

I have got little to no knitting to show for all this time off screwing around. I re-worked a sleeve on my gray wrap cardigan, and made a scarf. Hopefully pictures soon.

It's supposed to be 60 degrees and sunny tomorrow. HA! I say. HA! I'll believe it when I see it. I can't wait for it to warm up! I am planning to lay sod in my yard, so that the dogs won't turn it into a mud pit. (It's already a mud pit. The dogs can't help it.) Plus I just really want to pretend I have an actual yard. I'm planning fewer flowers, and as much grass as possible. I will probably turn into one of those little old ladies with aluminum lawn chairs and plastic frogs, yelling at any kid that goes by to "stay off my yard!" At least my name is not Ethel.

As if you all don't get enough of my weirdness already....

Marin tagged me for a meme! And thank goodness, because the brain is low on batteries today.

The Rules:

1. Link to the person that tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
4. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
5. Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

1. I like blues festivals and barbecue. But jazz music, especially live jazz music, makes me want to start pulling my hair out.
2. If I had to pick ONE favorite scent, it would be lavender.
3. Ricotta cheese reminds me of baby spit-up. So I try to avoid it.
4. Confession. I have only a vague idea of what the rules are for basketball and football. And I think watching them on t.v. is about the dullest thing ever.
5. I love salty and sweet together. Chocolate with salted nuts is heaven. If I don't have salted nuts for my ice cream, I add salt to the chocolate sauce.
6. When we were little, my brothers and I decided we needed to make up nicknames for ourselves. We had a meeting so that everyone could have their say. I was dubbed Muffin, I think. Joe was Stinky (you don't want to know why), Dan was Gonzo, and Rick was Pinecone. (The three youngest were still babies, pretty much, so they didn't get nicknames.)

So now it's your turn, Beth, Sarah, Jodi, Amber, Carrie, and Kelly!

New bobbly hat

Easy peasy. Me likes.





Never did find the ball band. Oops. But I know that it was one-of-a-kind, made for the good folks at Knit 1. I love that shop!

ETA: Ball band found! Yarn: Animal Friendly Handspun Yarn by Sandy, Specially handspun for Knit 1 Chicago. "Country Cottage."

Holy crap the sun is out.

Turkey meatballs and spaghetti tonight, and The Office. I'm happy.

Did anybody see what was on Masterpiece last Sunday? I missed it.

Best Baby Shower Ever

Yesterday I went to a shower for one of the ladies in my knitting group, hosted by her knitting friend, Jodi. Why was it so great? Well, for one, everybody was knitting. And secondly, Jodi was a great hostess. Not a melted candy bar in sight! (I asked. All she had was a bar of dark chocolate with currants. And no diapers, thank god.) Also, she gave away AWESOME favors! Here's mine:



Each skein came with a pattern she had thoughtfully picked out for the yarn. Mine was "Foliage" from Knitty 'O7. Of course, I screwed up the whole "stealing" game for myself by opening a new bag and then thinking I could trade it. (Idiot.) But eventually I got the yarn I wanted. I am the rare person who does not hate orange.

While at the party I made progress on my sideways-knit hat.



I have the sinking feeling that I threw the ball band away, or I'd tell you what it's made out of. Maybe I'll find it by the time I show a finished hat.

Daphne did not want me to take any pictures today without posing.

I is much prettier than yarn duh

Not to be outdone, Fay makes herself adorable.

Softest dog on the planet.

Forward March!

I was singing "and we'll gather all our arms can carry, / I have lost to February" all last month....

I threw your keys in the water, I looked back,
They'd frozen halfway down in the ice.
They froze up so quickly, the keys and their owners,
Even after the anger, it all turned silent, and
The everyday turned solitary,
So we came to February.

First we forgot where we'd planted those bulbs last year,
Then we forgot that we'd planted at all,
Then we forgot what plants are altogether,
and I blamed you for my freezing and forgetting and
The nights were long and cold and scary,
Can we live through February?

You know I think Christmas was a long red glare,
Shot up like a warning, we gave presents without cards,
And then the snow,
And then the snow came, we were always out shoveling,
And we'd drop to sleep exhausted,
Then we'd wake up, and it's snowing.

And February was so long that it lasted into March
And found us walking a path alone together.
You stopped and pointed and you said, "Thats a crocus,"
And I said, "Whats a crocus?" and you said, "Its a flower,"
I tried to remember, but I said, "Whats a flower?"
You said, "I still love you."

The leaves were turning as we drove to the hardware store,
My new lover made me keys to the house,
And when we got home, well we just started chopping wood,
Because you never know how next year will be,
And we'll gather all our arms can carry,
I have lost to February.

-Dar Williams, "February"


Today is my brother Dan's birthday. Happy 24th, dude! In your honor, I am posting this colloquial vignette that you penned on my Facebook page recently. It is dear to my heart, like you.

So da udder day wen I was at ED'S gettin de ol earS lowered... der was a guy in der talkin bout huntin turkeys wit ED... an HE said... "So my MA called me da udder day and said Daryl!!!! Gess wut we have a big problem... You and yur dad Marshall just got yur turkey tags and its da same days dat Larry da Cable Guy is gonna be at da Lacrosse center! We arready have da tickets and da ECOno Lodge bOOked!" Daryl said to his Ma, wull we can prolly do both. Cant miss Larry da cable guy AND openin day a turkey huntin! nO wAY

* * * *

F.O.s!

For Adelyn, it's a li'l pink sweater....

....with a li'l pocket for important trinkets! Yarn: Manos del Uruguay

And a fuzzy blue bonnet for Kade. Yarn: Knitpicks Ambrosia

Thank the heavens the sun seems to be making more frequent appearances these days. I don't dare hope for an early spring; however, I don't think we'll have too many more gigantic snowfalls. The dogs will miss the snow -- they really had fun wrestling in that strange cold stuff.

I had a nice break from dreary Chicago on Wednesday, when I traveled to Barcelona. I enjoyed the sunny port, the quaint tavernas, the lively crowds of merchants, and the dryad-filled woods.

"Has the cold frost-bitten her brain?" you ask.

Naw. I was at the ballet, which was absolutely fabulous. The company was the State Ballet of Georgia (the country, not the state, mind you,) who performed Don Quixote. Nina Ananiashvili, the star dancer, is soon to retire. (She is 45, but she sure doesn't look it!) So I felt quite privileged to view one of her final performances.

Nina Ananiashvili. Photo courtesy http://ananiashvili.com

Good thing I've got these ani-mules to keep me grounded.

What means you I has something on nose?

Fay has gained quite a bit of weight and presents new challenges to Daph's top-doggery tricks! She has longer legs, after all, and now, muscles to boot.

(Summary: Turkey tags + Georgian ballet = Well-rounded.)

P.S. Thank you for the award, Marin! I will try to remember to pass it on soon.