hand eye crafts

Am I the only person who doesn't watch Hallmark and Hallmark-y Christmas movies?   I mean, none of them.  Ever. Why would the child of a knitter, who knows how long it takes to make something, suddenly ask for a knit Christmas gift?  Like 3, 3 1/2 weeks before Christmas.

Are y'all all holiday decorated? As per my habit, I began putting things out and up on the day after Thanksgiving.  I'm not through yet, but things are beginning to take shape.  Michaels had an excellent sale on artificial, pre-lit Christmas trees last week, and I got three 4' ones.  I've set up two in the den, and may not put the third one together, but it's out there as an option.  

The only other photo I took on Thanksgiving was of Hannah's friend here: I seem to have caught him in mid-foot-tap.  His jaunty wearing of a Vanderbilt shaker endeared him to me right away.

 Thanksgiving.

Well, a hot oven actually.  I've done more cooking today than I have in a long time.  Thanksgiving will be at Hannah's, and today was for preparing. Almost everything had to be baked: casseroles, chicken, pies, scones, and rolls.  All of them for different times and at different temperatures, so things were going in and being taken out for almost three hours.  It's all done now, though.  All that's left is packing everything up tomorrow morning. I hope you have a wonderful day, however you spend it.

I'm sitting here watching football, knitting round and round on my rollneck sweater.  The yarn is pulling out of the skein nicely.  My feet are warm.  All the pets are snoozing.  Yet all I can think about is Joe Biden pardoning the turkeys Chocolate and Chip today.   One of them --- I think it was Chocolate --- was up on the set table.  Which means Chip was left unwatched.  And while he was remarkably good at staying in one place for a good while, Chip eventually began to stroll.  And I wondered then, as I wonder now, was there a turkey wrangler on hand?  Did Chip get in trouble?  And what's the relationship between Chip and Chocolate now? "You know, I  got to stand on the decorated stand.  The President sort of petted me." "Shut up, Chocolate,  I can't listen to this all the way back to North Carolina."

There was energy and yarn enough to make a second item to go with the gift I talked about earlier.  For some reason, I associate yellow with the recipient, so: (Can't give it away.) If it's purple, it'll be for me.   The rollneck sweater that is going really slowly, and a newly cast-on hat.  Knit Picks Brava for the former, Fiesta Ballet for the latter. This Nativity caught my eye the other day. I realize Mary has just had a baby, but she's looking kind of rough, wouldn't you say?  And Jesus looks like Lord Farquaad. Happy Holidays!  

My vocabulary has grown by three words lately: pellucid, obtunded, and ablation. The way to sex an octopus is to look at the tip of the third right arm.  If there are suckers all the way to the tip, it's a female. Human tears produced by emotions are chemically different than those produced by eye irritation. I've come across, but am still struggling to fully understand, the  Levy distribution.   Sometimes, if I read the definition slowly, it makes sense.  Otherwise, not so much.

 Well, I can't say I disagree. My favorite thing --- okay, my second favorite thing --- is the "Oh Hello" over the "c." I've probably said this before, but I always taught out of this issue when it came out each year.  Gender roles, marketing, other cultural stuff.  Frankly, I could turn just about anything fun into a teaching point.  I did show episodes of "House" and "Mystery Science Theater 3000," after all.  It was as much for my entertainment --- and a break from lectures --- as my students'. I'm making a scarf as a holiday gift. If there's time and I'm inspired, there will be a hat and maybe even mittens to go with it.  I began feeling a little Christmas-y last week, for whatever reason.  This was actually cast on for another pattern first, and I realized in short order that I was going to be bored enough with it to never work on it.  This one is a tad boring, but I'm staying with it so far.

I was boiling some chicken for Tap, having forgotten that there were some toothpicks under the burner I was using.  (Yes, burners.  It's an old stove.)  I had knocked the box of toothpicks that stays on the stove over reaching for one to see if my baked-a-couple-of-days-ago pound cake was done.  I hadn't realized that I'd missed a couple as I cleaned up.  The errant ones began to burn, and there has been the lingering scent of a wood fire in the kitchen since. It's nice.

Today I feel old.  As if there is so much distance between myself and the world that nothing I say or do will be accepted as valid or will be treated as worth anyone's time or attention.  That I should sit with my hands folded and not even try.  And I hate it.

Today has not gone the way I imagined it.  My night-owl-ness always finds me thinking about what I can/should do the next day.  That's when I have energy and feel inspired.  The mornings, though --- ugh.  No energy, no desire to do any of the things that sounded so good the night before. Briton's in South Carolina for a couple of days --- I was a little concerned that he was driving into the remnants of the hurricane.  It's been windy here the last couple of days and rained most of today.  He's near the beach --- hopefully it'll be clear enough there that he can get some sand between hs toes.

We made it out of yesterday without democracy exploding.  Imploding?  Whichever, most everything seems to still be standing. Of course, there were wins that frustrated, angered, even disgusted me.  The re-election of the governor here is one of those.  Pennsylvania buoyed me, though.  I hadn't realized how intensely invested I was in the Shapiro and Fetterman campaigns until last night.   I stayed up all night, as I had to get Madeleine to the vet crazy early this morning to have an all-day glucose curve run.  That, on top of having gotten up in the middle of the night to see the lunar eclipse, has me extremely weary today.  Nothing on tap tomorrow, though, so hopefully I can catch up on some sleep. Before I go: The cluster of blue counties sort of top left center is the Atlanta metro area.  That one little blue triangle-y "island" to the right of Atlanta is where we are.  A little blue county in a mostly red state.

 

I don't like the Munchkins.   No, not those.  The movie ones. When I was little, "The Wizard of Oz" was aired once a year, and was kind of a big deal.  Hey, there were three TV stations, and you had to walk all the way over there  to change the channel or adjust the volume.  This is to say, if there was something special on television, everyone watched it. I would watch until the house landed in Oz, Dorothy opened the door, and everything was in color.  I knew they were coming.  The shrubbery shook, the giggling started, and I was gone .  The nasal, high-pitched singing, the showing up out of nowhere: creepy .  The Lollipop Guild was the absolute worst, with the leg shaking and all.  I am honestly getting goosebumps even typing this. Now, after that early scarring (metaphorical, of course), my life unfolded without having to deal with them.  Until I had children.  And until those children turned three.  Each of them, ...

Guess which way the stadium is. . . Today is all but out of control here.  Most years, the Tennessee/Georgia game doesn't pack the punch that this year's does.  I've already gotten at least twice the number of traffic alerts on my phone as usual.  And, no matter which way the game goes, it's only going to be more berserk tonight. Me, I'm wearing my Vandy sweatshirt and staying in all day.  

Since it was released, I've received copies of Alan Rickman's book from two people. One thing that I've thought since learning that the book was going to be published has been "How sad that there will be no audiobook version." Another thing is that, before Dale was diagnosed, I had never heard of pancreatic cancer.  Since then, it seems to be kind of common.  Now, whether there are actually more cases of it being diagnosed, or whether my ears are just more sensitive to it, I don't know.  I think there are diary entries in Rickman's book pretty deep into his illness --- it will be so sad to read about his journey, and remember ours.  

How's November going for everybody? I've reached the point of dividing my roll-neck sweater into body and sleeves.  No more keeping up with raglan shaping;  just knitting around and around. That little shawlette I showed you a while back has been discarded.  It was a mistake to try and work on the short row shaping when I was sick, first, and then when I was so low and miserable.  The yarn may make a return appearance one day.