Friday, January 27, 2012


I didn't need my Sociology degree to understand the idea that we can all be thought of as yarn dolls.  We're all pretty much the same shape, but made from different types of yarn.  We vary in thickness, color, durability, sensitivity, touch, ease of working with, tension, yadayadayougetthemetaphor.

What maybe I did need the extra education for was thinking about the ties.  We are, all of us, bundled together into our own particular shape by ties.  The ties can be strangleholds, or they can barely keep us together.  They can slip out of place at times, changing how we look/feel.  They can be made of different stuff than the yarn that they're binding, so that we never feel quite right.  And then, occasionally, the ties can break altogether, and we come completely undone.

Now, depending upon which ties break, we may be able to fix ourselves.  Pull an extra length of yarn from someplace inconspicuous, and just re-tie.  Sometimes, we have to ask for a little help pulling things back together.  And, again, occasionally, our ties come undone so many times that they're too weak to use anymore.  And we've gone to the "extra strand" well too many times.  So we have to live (if you want to call it that) for a while as a tangled mass of yarn, one that some people can still recognize as having once been a unique and interesting doll, and think might again be repaired into one. 

 Some would look and see only a mess --- yarn with no purpose or potential.  Still others might see the snarl of yarn, for the second or third time, and wonder why that doll can't seem to stay together.  What that hopeless muddle of yarn is wondering is, why can't I seem, no matter how hard I try, to stay a good, sturdy yarn doll?  Why do I keep coming apart?  How many more times can this happen to me before there's no strong yarn left to work with, or no one left to help tie me back together?

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

No Bones About That

All the Scooby Doo birthday bones have been knit, packed up, and will be sent out tomorrow.  I'm still not sure the colors are quite right, but there's still time before the party to sort all that out.

So, bones aside, the sock grows:

I'm also working on an airy, shimmery, sparkly scarf with some yarn I found in a box of my mother's when I cleaned out one of my closets the other day.  No photo yet, but I'll get one to you.

Other than the bones, life has been fairly gray around here.  One (or maybe more) of my medications has definitely stopped working, and I've spent lots of hours sort of swirling the drain.  Won't you be glad when I pull my act together and have some entries that don't mention crying jags and insomnia?

Me, too.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Bone Replacement

Fear not --- the Sock I Shall Knit has been cast on, and shall grow apace this weekend, but something else has temporarily interrupted.

This is a little cotton bone I had for sale on etsy --- as a dog toy, really.  But, the other afternoon, I got a request to make 10 of them for a customer's daughter's Scooby Doo birthday party!  So, I'm at work knitting bones, stuffing bones, and keeping Finn away from bones which must still look like toys to him but are clearly party decorations.

Children. . . 

Monday, January 16, 2012

I Think I Shall Knit A Sock

Because socks do not lie to you about how much yarn you will need to complete them.
Socks have no sleeves to "ease" into armholes whose patterns came from someplace altogether different than the rest of the garment.
Socks have that simply amazing heel turn.  There is nothing else remotely like it in all of knitting.
Socks, even if the toe is wonky, are generally covered by shoes and subject to lots of "oohs" and "aahs," which an ill-fitting, poorly-seamed sweater simply won't receive.
Socks are the closest thing knitters have to instant gratification.
Socks won't have you start over three times, with three different yarns, and three different patterns, trying your damnedest to make your son a sweater.
I think I shall knit a sock.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

If Your Twin Tags You, Does It Really Count? (Being Basically the Same Person and All)

Well, I suppose it does.  And, short of going back to the picture of Sam, this may be the best I can do on a chilly Saturday.

Rules: • Post these rules. • You must post 11 random things about yourself. • Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post. • Create 11 new questions for the people you tag to answer. • Go to their blog and tell them that you have tagged them. • No stuff in the tagging section about ‘you are tagged if you are reading this.’ blah blah blah, you legitimately have to tag 11 people! (whatever, tag as you like, fun remember?)

Random Facts:
1. My name is "Kim."  No "Kimberly," no middle name.
2. I like anchovies on my pizza.
3. I do not drink.  I just don't like the taste.
4. I have never been farther west in the US than barely inside Texas.
5. I have never been out of the country.
6. My favorite actresses are Sissy Spacek and Amanda Plummer.
7. I hate my feet.
8. I thought I would turn out to be a better mother than I have.
9. I'm always surprised when I find a novel that interests me.
10. I really like being called "Miss Kim."  It's what my children's friends call me.
11. I collect stuffed lions.

My questions: 1. What made you smile today? Frankly, nothing so far.
 2. If you had to perform at the circus, what trick would you do?   Nope.  No circus.  No thank you.  Weirded out by circuses.
 3. Zombie, werewolf, or vampire? I suppose a werewolf, but they're all fairly unappealing.
4. What’s the coolest dream you ever had?  Any one that I can remember throughout the day, and lifts me up because of it.
 5. Rock, paper or scissors? Scissors.
 6. If you could go on a road trip with any person, dead or alive, who would it be and where would you go?  Maybe camping with Abraham Lincoln?  This one has several possible answers.
 7. If you could have one superpwer, what would you choose? Mental telepathy.
 8. If a unicorn and a squirrel had a baby what would it be called? "Freak of nature."
 9. If you could instantly become fluent in another language, which language would you pick? Italian.  Or Hebrew.
10. What is your favorite movie quote? "These things is heavy.  Hard to carry, too."
 11. What TV show do you wish was still on the air?  I have no idea --- I'm afraid they'd all seem too cheesy now.

Questions for the people I tagged:
1. Who is your favorite Disney villain?
2. What one fear do you wish you could overcome?
3. What's your dessert at your last meal?
 4. If you had the chance now, would you date your high school crush?
 5. If cost were no object, where would you build your dream home?
6. Any sound can wake you up in the morning --- what is it?
 7. What is your dream pet?
 8. You can commit any crime and get away with it.  What would it be?
9. Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
 10. You have your own knitting store.  What is it called?
 11. Eleven questions, or an even dozen?

Tagging: Roxanne, Shannon, Laurie, Bridget, Marin, Melanie, Paula, Lorette, Kimidawn, Jo, Carrie K., Sarah, Knitter Bunny.

Thursday, January 12, 2012


One of my absolute favorite websites is ZooBorns. You know --- favorite in that "I've-only-got-time-to-check-about-four-sites-before-I-have-to-be-out-the-door" way.  It would be one of the four I checked.  Because you get faces like this:
This is a Bongo, named Brody.  And if he put every ounce of his bongo-ness behind it, I don't think he could be a single bit cuter.  Plus, the ears make you pull out that old routine, "WHAT?  WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?"

Well, one of the things we're saying is that today on ZooBorns, there are pictures of a baby tapir.  (Google it, people, I can't do all your work for you.)  For a very long time, tapirs were Briton's Very Most Favorite Animals In The Whole Big World.  And having been such, they remain objets d'affection at The Chez.  Please meet Unnamed Male Tapir:
Cute, right?  Squeeeeeeeing all over the place, yes?  But it was the second picture that sold it for me.  I don't know how many of you have been nursing mothers, have been nursing mothers at 3 AM after maybe 20 minutes' sleep,  but I have.  And this --- this right here --- this is it:

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Basic Humanity

The check for my mother's life insurance policy came in yesterday --- I'm back from the bank, having divvied it up among accounts.

That rectangle of paper means that somewhere, in some office, the books are closed on Delores E. Spence.  And that made me profoundly sad.  I will never, ever forget going to our insurance agent when Dale died, to move things around, be sure all his paperwork was taken care of.  The agent had all of Dale's information up on his computer screen, and when he realized we were done with it, he hit the "delete" key.  Right in front of me.  My husband was completely, irrevocably gone.  I doubt the agent even realized what he had done, but it has haunted me as insensitive and thoughtless ever since.

Fortunately, I was not in the office when my mother's records were erased.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

So Far Today

Two things have made me happy:

Tiger cubs
Look at those feet. . .   My favorite is the one in back. . .  No interest in the publicity machine. . .


What a surprise. . .  Hugh Laurie. . .  (You can skip ahead to :21 for the bit that makes me laugh out loud.)
He is so magnificently funny. . .

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Begin Again

A couple of days ago, I spilled a Dr Pepper on my computer.  It immediately shut down.  Naively, I thought it would work again once it had time to dry out.  It didn't.  In fact, it sputtered and sparked and emitted that awful electrical fire smell.  
So, I had to buy a new one.  (No, I haven't gotten a job;  this was bought using money from Mama's bank account.)  And the new one, though it would go to the old blog, it didn't allow me to make new entries.  So, once again, I've got a new blog, with the name I wanted to use anyway.

Join me for 2012, if you don't mind.


For some reason, this year I am constantly moving Christmas stuff around the house.  I'm not sure why things are so unsettled, but they...