I'm alive... barely

Hello! Do you remember me? My name is Vanessa, and you used to know me. I used to post here relatively frequently, and most of you have met me in real life too. I'm tall, with glasses and long curly hair. Am I ringing any bells?

I am not without things to post about, but first work was sucking the creativity right out of me, and then I got sick (ugh for summer colds). Being in bed for five days, then a walking zombie for an additional five didn't help.

Now we're T-12 days from our trip to the States. Karen and I have all these plans for the few days we have, and I'm really looking forward to it (even if, as she suggested, we're so worn out from this crazy month that we just sit on the couch with a cold drink and talk). There are crepes, Main Street, butterflies, U-picks, Boston, Stonehenge, a beach, July 4, and meeting my dear, dear friend Karen in person for the first time in my future, and it's going to be wonderful.

I spent World Wide Knit in Public Day (June 13) knitting at the CFF AGM in Winnipeg, and completed my first hat with my first seam (and my first mattress stitch) as a donation for the Alzheimer's Society. I have no pictures, because it was during my zombie phase, and it was enough that I actually a) knit and b) knit correctly, but the ladies at River City gushed over it and promised to take a picture and post it on their website, so I'll borrow it from there when it goes up. Then they plied me with more yarn and some ideas on how to do the hat in the round, and said that if I made another and donated it, they'd give me another coupon for $5 off yarn. Darn them. Now I just have to do it.

Priest also has not been posting, though he has a lot to report too. He's quite annoyed with me that I have not been logging in for him. If I haven't said it before, I adore our dog, and I hope he'll forgive us for going away for a week. I'm sure he will, as long as we bring him back a nice gift.

I just wanted to let you all know that I'm alive, and I should be back to posting again soon. As long as I can curb my appetite for... brains...

Now Ended

Dear Now-Ended Never-Ending Afghan,

Let's not talk about it. We've had our ups and downs, come a long way since "Cast on 8 stitches," but now they're over, and we can both move on with our lives.


I remember back in 2006. I restarted you from my painful beginner attempts of 2005, and we were both filled with hopes and dreams and promise. Intellectually, I knew where we were heading, with four increases per row, twenty-four rows per colour, nine colours... But knowing it with the head and with the heart are two separate things, and at the beginning, there was only knitting joy.

Well, some joy. I won't mention the twisted purl stitches that made the first eight rows of a colour something suited for the ninth circle of hell. I admit my part in it. I was purling wrong. I was twisting the stitches. But until I corrected myself at colour five, I admit to dwelling in your sixteen rows of knit and dragging your eight of garter.

And when we were about to rediscover joy, when I learned to purl correctly, and we could again work in hopes and dreams and promise, came the realization that I had no tension. I had moved from the beginner tension of strangling the yarn, to letting it move onto the needles unchecked, until I was an inch out of gauge. Truly, it wasn't your fault. But every time I looked at the lovely jewel-bright purple colour six with its unbelievably loose tension, I lost heart.

And then, when I had achieved tension, and it was time to truly work on you, you turned on me. Rows suddenly were six hundred stitches long. I am not a fast knitter, and you knew this. But rather than growing quickly with each hour spent in each other's company, you flatly refused to indulge me. "Knit faster," you said, "and knit more, and maybe I'll grow."

So this weekend, after months of on-again-off-again and hours of agonizing time spent in each other's company, here we were.


Ready to cast off. Finally, we were one row away from moving on with our lives. But you couldn't just let it go, could you? You couldn't let us part ways without one final dig. No. You made me start a BRAND NEW SKEIN of yarn to cast off LESS THAN A QUARTER OF YOUR STITCHES. And as if that weren't enough...


You tell me after I'm done binding off 951 stitches (+/- 5 due to losing count) that I should have bound you off with a larger needle, so your edges wouldn't fold in!

But I digress. It's in the past, and it doesn't do to dwell on the past. I won't mention how the inconsistent gauge and tight castoff makes it impossible for you to lie flat. I won't mention how absolutely huge the purple band is in comparison to the other colours. I certainly won't mention that I had to put my hand-washing basin under your centre to stretch you up enough to dry you without being folded over and bunched in the centre.


In the end, you are big enough to accent a bed nicely, and will probably make a lovely snuggling blanket when you're dry. You are also my first knitting project, for all that you are not the first finished, and are a written record of my progression as a knitter in basics like stitches, tension, and (in the end) perseverance.

You are done, and our relationship can change now, as it always does when a project moves from work in progress to finished. But I will say this. It's telling about a person and her relationship with her knitting project that she will point to a clean and tidy storage room instead of the completion of a four-year-in-the-making afghan as the highlight of her long weekend.

Love (kind of), Vanessa

Saturday

Breakfast: Yoghurt, muesli, frozen berries (mostly thawed)
Lunch: Leftover pizza
Dinner: Sushi, fake Moxie's Mayan Salad
Snacks: none
Liquids: two pots black currant tea, iced tea, Booster Juice
Treats: none
Exercise: Walk with Priest

Ahh... The first disc of Pride and Prejudice in the dvd player, my faithful dog snoozing on the couch, tea steeping, heating pad in easy reach, and 15/32 rows done on the navy blue of the afghan. If my shoulder didn't hurt so much, I'd say it'd be the perfect Saturday evening. :)

My shoulder is killing me, however, and I don't expect it to really improve much until after chiro on Monday. I will try to clean at least the small bathroom tomorrow before the greyhound walk, however. I hate to jinx us, but I think spring has finally arrived, despite the lingering snowpile beside the elementary school. Priest is getting some stamina back, but is resolutely NOT blowing his winter coat. Silly boy. I'm still trying to decide what to do with the backyard. Soil and sod? Just rake it up? Maybe try the latter, and resort to the former if necessary. Decisions, decisions.

Mrs. Bennett's nerves call. I do so love this miniseries.

As the Purl Turns

Things happen as I get crazy busy. My knitting has aspirations to stardom. Silly knitting.

As the Purl Turns (WIPS 2009 05)

If the sun would only come out for good

Breakfast: Berry smoothie
Lunch: Leftover stroganoff, apple
Dinner: Umm... Think it's going to be fake Moxie's Mayan Salad with shrimp
Snacks: Turkey/Jarlsberg rollups, trail mix
Liquids: We'll see; hopefully a litre herbal tea, 500ml iced tea, some water
Treats: ??
Exercise: Walk with Priest

Loneliness hit pretty hard yesterday. Strange, though, since I spent the evening surrounded by good people. When I got home they were playing melancholy jazz on Canada Live, which didn't help, so I lay on the couch with Priest until Mike came upstairs.

We have company this weekend, but I'm still hoping to get the rest of the backyard cleaned, sweep the patio, and do some other outdoor stuff. Hopefully it won't snow again! It's almost May (kinda)! I think I need a corn broom. I think that'd be a more effective mover of pine needles than the stiff-bristle broom we have.

I also only have six rows left of the light blue Colour 8 of Ye Olde Neverending Afghan of Doom. Once I'm on Colour 9, it'll feel like all downhill! Have to get there first, though... Hmm... Maybe once I get the patio swept, I'll bring some knitting outside for a photo shoot... This is THE time to be outside in Edmonton. Warm enough if you layer appropriately and sit in the sun, but no mosquitoes yet. :)

I did not choose the name

I swear. I did not do anything but build the look. The Hero Factory chose the name for me. I swear, really and truly... But I love it. :)

Not quite how I would have chosen to clean the laundry room

Breakfast: Yoghurt, berries, muesli
Lunch: Rye crackers with jarlsberg and ricotta, mini cucumber
Dinner: Supper salad with whole wheat tortelloni
Snacks: Not for lack of trying
Liquids: Not nearly enough by far
Treats: Two Icy squares (read on; I'm justified)
Exercise: 1/2 hour walk with Priest, some picking up in the backyard, and 1.5 hours of mopping

I've been derelict, I know. The truth is, I've been so unbelievably busy, but it's mostly with work stuff, and I don't go into too many details about work on the blog, so there really hasn't been much to talk about. I've been thinking about blogging, and about what to say, but then I end up in another whirlwind at work, and the thoughts are just flung out of my head. I have been knitting, and I'm now doing the newsletter for Chinook Winds Edmonton, and the greyhound walking club up here, but since that hasn't quite got off the ground yet, there's still not a lot to report. Until today.

Up until 3 pm, today was actually an awesome day. I talked to Mom, was doing laundry for the first time in two weeks (I seriously had NO CLOTHES to wear...), and took the opportunity to go through my closet. While I only have one pair of jeans that fit and don't have gaping holes in them, I do have lots of dress pants, and even some shirts that amazingly fit well. I also have pants/shorts/capris that I can do up and then pull off, shirts that I swim in, and (/cry) a $90 lavendar bikini that just doesn't fit at all anymore. The keep pile was still larger than the donate pile, but the donate pile contained things I wish I could have kept (like the bikini), and also things that I pulled out of the closet and went, "What was I thinking?" (like the horizontally striped drawstring linen-type pants). Alas, though I have many pairs of pants now, I only have one pair of jeans, so I think I should probably go get another.

So this was a very cathartic morning, and then I was tidying around Mike and his disassembled helicopter while continuing to do laundry. After Mike left for the helicopter field, I showered, switched over the laundry, and took Priest for a walk. I brushed him and clipped his nails when we got back, and picked up another section of the backyard (I can't wait until the standing water is gone from the other side). Back inside, I switched over the laundry again, knitted for a while, then hung everything back up in the closet. It was around 3, then, and I planned to switch the laundry again before having a snack and a lie-down on the couch with Priest. With this in mind, I trotted downstairs, and opened the laundry room door.

It was that first step, with water soaking into my sock, that really started the afternoon downhill. I looked into the laundry room, and saw the water. Not everywhere, but a lot of places. And definitely not flowing towards the drain. In fact, it had flowed to the opposite side of the house from the drain. I stopped, stepped back, and got the phone. Once Mike was on his way back from the field, I took my socks off and went in to inspect the damage. Water water water. Soapy water. Soapy water carrying lint bunnies and various other yucky things with it. Water around the laundry basket with the clean laundry in it. Water around one set of legs of the hamper we use upstairs. Water underneath boxes, paint cans, and once we pulled everything out, all the way to the wall and our spare baseboard/tiles/hardwood. Water under, on, and in the shoes we keep under the laundry table. And, naturally, water under the washer and dryer.

I called Dad, and before Mike got home I knew what had happened. The drain hose had disconnected itself from the washer, so when it went to drain, well, you can visualize the carnage. Luckily, we don't think too much is ruined. We need to put a fan on one corner of the shag in the computer room, and one of Mike's shoes is outside trying to dry out (it was the only one with water inside), but the only things that seem to be ruined are cardboard boxes, not the contents, and Mike's old lunchbags, which he should have cleaned out two years ago. The clean laundry didn't get hit, I've now cleaned up most of the lint bunnies from the parts of the floor that got wet, Mike hooked the hose back up, and I found two quarters and a penny! Score!

But... it really wasn't quite the way I wanted to clean the laundry room.