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Friday, July 29, 2011

Sometimes I Just Can't Help Myself

We went to the movies tonight to watch "Bad Teacher" in an effort to re-wire my sleep schedule back to night shift. Honestly we should have waited for it to hit the bargain theater and only paid $3.00 per ticket. I haven't seen that many boob shots since watching Short Bus. At least Short Bus had enough male frontal nudity to offset it all. But who wants a movie critique, God knows I'm no critic nor ever felt the need to be paid to share my opinion and I got lots of laughs from the nasty humor so it served some purpose.

When I went back to the concession counter after finding our seats the young gal who had admitted us had a young male with her behind the counter. As she wrung up my iced tea she was fiddling with a string on her finger and told her co-worker that some guy had asked her what she was worried about forgetting. The young man seemed stump until she held of the finger and said, "Because of the string?"

He then nodded and asked what the item was she was concerned about and she replied it was just a quick accessory she added earlier. I just couldn't help myself... I swear, I have no idea where this crap comes from.

I stated, "Depending how cute he was I would have said something inappropriate."

They both kinda looked at me in a look that manner others may have interpreted as, "Old man, keep your mouth shut, we weren't speaking to you." I took it more along the lines of, "Oh wizened one, expound on your knowledge of such things." I often mix up those two teen aged expressions. They're so similar. They should really stop going on sarcastic looks and just open their mouths and speak. Of course, I did that often as a teenager and it rarely worked as I thought it would... I'm sure there's a lesson there somewhere.

Regardless, I stated, "If he was cute I would have said, 'It's to remind me to use protection next time.' and if he wasn't so cute and kinda creepy I would have said, 'To remind myself to use that special crab killing shampoo when I get home tonight'." It took that heart beat for them both to laugh. You know that moment. That, "Oh my balls on the floor, did he really just say that?" skip of breath that's just long enough for you to think, "Oh shit, I said that out loud didn't I?" I find that really the only thing to do after the awkward laugh is to shrug and grin as you walk away.

Really, I swear I don't know where such thoughts come from in my head. I don't! My ex R. We'll just call him that should he ever read this, often would hit me in the shoulder in public places and say, "People don't say that shit." Where often my reply was, "Really? Well, I just did." I think I embarrassed him a time to many. Well, there were many other issues in that little trip down relationship lane, but he was often horrified by thoughts that I assumed a lot of us had. I just seemed to have a filter issue. As in, maybe I didn't have one?

Bob fortunately seems to often find great humor in waiting for what's going to possibly fly out of my mouth. When we first started dating he lived right around the corner from this great little grocery store with a Kaladi Coffee bar and Deli. One night after a hike with the mongrels we arrived just before closing and ordered a couple of sandwiches. They had already started to put away some of the stuff so the kid behind the counter (I'm just going to say it, The boy was odd. Not just a little either. That dirty I only work so I can afford the membership fee for World of War Craft and my high speed internet connection kind of odd) had to pull some stuff out. It was traditional with the sandwiches to have chips and a pickle spear. He asked us if we wanted the pickles. We both have a thing for salty pickles... Go where you may with that, such desires seem to have brought us together, so we said, "Yes, thanks." Before you know it the kid is on the floor digging under the counter in the refrigerated drawer and I couldn't stop it. I turned to Bob and the lady who had gotten there after us and stated, "Figures he'd have to get on his knees to get the pickle."

The lady kind of gave me that slow "Get on his knees?" blink, and the kid looked at me like he didn't understand the comment in the least. Meanwhile poor Bob had to walk into the produce section while I paid and collected said sandwiches and pickle spears so as not to laugh rudely in the kids face. It was at that moment that I thought, "This may work." You should have seen him at the Safeway checkout when he opted out of donating to Prostate Cancer research after just the week previously he had made a donation to Breast Cancer research. I thought that kid was going to crawl into the cash drawer to get away from me.

Truly I don't mean to be such an ass. In my own head, the comment seems so benign and humorous. Maybe after five years working ICU, my sense of appropriate humor is too skewed to be a good judge? I think it started long before that though. When I got pulled over for the first of my two speeding tickets the poor cop was horrified when he had asked me had I ever been stopped for speeding and I responded, "No, Sir. Congratulations, your my first." I didn't wink at him! I did stop that little compulsion. For Christ Sake. He had just returned from running my license and registration, he knew I had never been pulled over before. He deserved a little sarcasm. Of course, when he had originally come to my window and asked me, "Do you know how fast you were going?" My original comment was, "Well since you had to pull me over, I'm going to take a wild guess and assume I wasn't paying too much attention to my speedometer." Some cops have no sense of humor what-so-ever. The only people with less are airport security. When I had to go to Ft Lauderdale for work and was returning to Casper, I got chosen for the full body X-ray machine thing. They honestly asked me to take off my hat. I know I got that look on my face and before I could suppress it I asked, "Are you serious? Your about to X-ray me and be able to see my junk to make sure I don't have a hunk of C4 behind my left nut but I need to take the hat off?" I was worried momentarily I was going to have to relax my sphincter while grabbing my ankles and imagining wide open spaces. Learn to laugh a bit people.

So, to those two teenagers tonight I offer an apology. It may be some form of Tourette's Syndrome. Or maybe my mother just did a lousy job raising me because I always said what she was thinking and she was too busy laughing to get mad at me. The first time I remember her having a hard time keeping a straight face is when I was four and she heard me tell my brother who had called me a retard that he was the peanut in my poop that scratched my butthole on it's way out. If only she knew what a sign that was of the things to come. Really guys. You should at least be allowed to go to bars legally before you ever have to think about that "special crab shampoo" that makes you feel anything other than special while your using it. Just remember... Rinse and Repeat.

As for R... I hope you finally grew a set and can find some humor where it's due. It was funny dammit. And if she wasn't going to wear a bra and her boob fell out while showing us to our table I was allowed to comment on the nipple ring. She shared first.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Pet Ownership is a Responsibility? Really? Naw...

I wasn't looking to blog today, but something happened when I was out at the Farmers Market this afternoon walking the dogs and I'm still fuming to the point that I need to have a little vent. Even though, at the time, I didn't hold back either.

First, let me give you the visual of the scene. There I am, with all four dogs, none under 50lbs and one about 112lbs on leash. We were chilling out having a bit of water when a woman came up and asked me where the other dog was.

"Excuse me, other dog?"

"Yeah," She shrugged, last year you had another dog and the big guy was a puppy."

"Oh, she was a foster dog," I say realizing what she was thinking of, "She has a permanent home in Douglas these days"

"Ahhh, you do rescue?"

"Sometimes. We work with HERD of Wyoming." I said as I reminded Tucker to stay put.

She seemed to light upbefore saying, "I need to talk to you about finding a new home for our dog."


"Yeah we have a border collie who is out of control and we think he'd do great on a ranch."

After some questioning I found out that her husband always wanted a red and white border collie and after their first kid was born decided to get a pup. This pup and oldest kid are now 5 and have two younger human siblings. In five years there has been absolutely no work done with this dog. He literally lives in a crate in their apartment while her husband is at work. He comes home, feeds the dog, takes him outside where I was told he has no leash training and if he gets away they have to go pick him up at the pound in the next couple days. Then he comes back, goes in the crate until it's next potty break and/or breakfast. He has never been trained beyond crate training. Nothing, ever. For five years.

Even after I took a deep breath I couldn't stop it... I tried, but I couldn't do it. "Seriously? No wonder the dogs crazy and chases anything. You're lucky it hasn't chased you."

She kind of looked baffled. And that stupid look just set me off more. "So now that you have neglected, and by neglect, I mean abused this poor dog you want to pawn the problem you've created off onto some poor rancher? The last thing a rancher needs is a seclusion crazed border collie chasing his livestock. No, what needs to happen is that you and your idiotic husband who thought that 1) A border collie would be a good apartment dog for you and your spawn and 2) proceeded to drive said border collie insane need to take some responsibility for this dog. Not by re-homing him. I bet you've even listed him of Craigslist asking for a "re-homing" fee, haven't you? Yes, they had. No, no, no, you need to suck it up, take the dog out of the crate and start working it and giving it the home you should have five years ago.

Alas, with disgust I gave her both my card, and the information of the rescue I work with. Because, I have to face it. I know they'll end up leaving it at the pound one of these days. They're the kind who don't see the role they've played in the damage done to this dog. It might as well be someone else's issue, and honestly, if they did ditch it at the pound, it would at least have a chance at a better rest of it's life.

These people who look at my dogs, especially our border mix Tucker and don't get the correlation between their good behavior and the work we've put into training them just amaze me. They think that it's a luck of the draw to get a good dog. It helps, but you have to work for it.Just like kids. They don't grow up to be great people without parenting along the way. I fear for this couples kids.

The soaking rain I got on the way home, to finally cool the air helped cool my temper to. That and running into one of my training clients with her pup as she worked with him on not jumping made me realize that yes, some do see the responsibility in pet ownership.

Thanks for reading... Really. I feel better knowing that at least a couple might see it how I do.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Thick Blood

My slow moving thick alaskan blood is hating the "heat wave" we're having here in Casper. It's thinned out some in the three summers I've spent here, but not near enough to combat the high nineties. It just can't circulate fast enough to dissipate the latent heat. No matter how much clothing I lose in the effort. Stop... as I've stated before, the mental image is better than the reality. However; for all the sweating and dripping, there are bonuses to warmer climes. One of them being my garden.

This is the first morning glory of the season. I was worried that I had made the wrong choice to just go on last years reseeding and not planing older plants as I had the past two years. However, we're starting! I'm ready for some new blossoms since the garden finally seems to be fading to an end. This spring the daffodils through no effort of my own were a riot of blossoms. The most since we moved in. It was followed by the few tulips that seem to keep returning of their own accord. The dead nettles and sweet woodruff blossomed out immediately after the daffodils began to fade and stayed vibrant until the spiderwort matured and then the salvia, lambs ear and cat mint in the front blew up. Before they had faded I went to the retreat and came home to the clematis exploding more than I could have hoped for.

I have to say, having only planted a single pot of annuals this year, I do enjoy the fact that I have a seasonal garden that will come in year after year without large money expenditures on flowers that will come to an end at the end of the summer. The morning glories are the only annual that I have planned for next year, and as I did this past year, I will let them reseed themselves.

Anyway, enough about my flowers. As much as I adore them, I doubt anyone else truly cares much about them. As for the hot weather, I tested my cars air conditioner yesterday to keep myself and the dogs cool on the way to Bob's sisters place outside Glendo. He took his parents down and since we have a few too many critters to make us comfortable in the 4runner, I drove down my car with the kids. All in all, it was a very pleasant Sunday afternoon barbecue in their place they have under construction.
The menfold bonding
I hope all of your Sunday's were as enjoyable and the those of you who love the heat have mine too and those who require coolness find some.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

New Toys are So Much Fun!

And these new toys are not silicone, latex, or phallic shaped. Well, I guess in a certain way it is but get your minds out of your respective gutters people. My new toy is this...
Ignore the Schacht Catalogs there... I don't know, really, I don't
Yep, I bought myself a new camera yesterday. A Cannon Rebel T3. And though it isn't the most expensive thing out there, I have to say I'm digging it. So much so that this morning when for some ungodly reason we got up at 0430 to go down to the balloon fest that I was invited to before we headed to Colorado, I took it with. Thank goodness too, or I would have been put to work like poor Bob was. Who knew if people thought you were a photographer of import you wouldn't be wrangled into work?
Everyone could use a little morning flame, no?

Last one up buys breakfast!
Not It!
Leave it to me to find a cute dog pic...
"Sun rise, sun rise. Looks like morning in your eyes"
I think my two favorites'

Bob hard at work keeping the girls in line
Honestly, I don't know how Bob got roped into crewing a balloon. He's never done it before. I was clicking away and suddenly realized he was helping with a balloon. After they got it in the air he told me that they were short crew and had asked if he would ride in the chase vehicle as well. So I took his keys and followed them as well.
To bad us chasers have to stick to the rules of the road...
The Race is Afoot

Sorry, I don't have pictures of the landing and packing. Extra hands were required and I dove in when I saw it start dragging people across the asphalt. All in all, it was a fun morning and should I have the chance to go play again, I will. As long as I don't have to get on one of them that is... I may love rock climbing but my fear of heights wouldn't play nice with a hot air balloon, as my father found out one winter at the Fur Rendezvous balloon events. It's probably embarrassing to be over powered and outcussed by your three year old.

We came home to find the pathetic and utterly miserable dogs.
We don't know what he did to that back foot. One day we noticed a pink spot and found what Bob originally thought to be a laceration. Upon closer inspection it appeared to be a ruptured ulcer although he never limped or let us know it was bugging him. So, another couple hundred dollars spent at the vet for a good rinsing and stitching it closed.

Since we left the poor bastards before their post breakfast morning walk, we took them up to the cooler climes on the mountain for a good romp. As I stated, it doesn't appear to be hurting him too much.
Run Tucker, Run!
Emmitt the Squirrel Hunter
Queen Shiela. She may be old, but she still rules
And the Goof himself. Sullivan
"Yep," she says proudly, "those are my boys. Raised them good didn't I?"
And now that it's all done, I want a nap. But I think the grocery store is calling my name. If only my knitting would call my name. I don't know what is up but since about half way through the retreat I seem to have the knitting funk. Part of it I think is that I actually was coming down with some crud that I'm still recovering from. And there was a frustration on the professional aspect coming to a head. But I feel I'm finally on the mend, I've dealt with the other issue as much as I can at this point, and I've been enjoying the sun and the heat as much as a thick blooded Alaskan kid can. And 90+ degree heat in itself may explain the knitting funk. But I wish it would go away. But until then, I have a new toy to entertain myself with. And for it being new, I think I did a decent job, no?

Just think, I may even have a few knitting pics to take with the new camera some day.

You all have a great weekend.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Post Retreat Blues

My first all male knitting retreat was fantastic. I would like to thank Frank and Brady for all the work they put into it to make it the event that it was. You two obviously spent a lot of time, sweat, and probably a good chunk of change on creating the event. I appreciate it more than I can say and pray that the event breaks even.

With all that said, I have a problem. I didn't take a single darn picture. Seriously, I got home and realized I didn't pull out my camera once. I'm thoroughly disgusted with myself. I had an amazing break from real life surrounded by other male knitters of amazing talent and didn't shoot a single picture to commemorate the event. I guess that just means I need to do this all again. Unfortunately it won't be my first time, and it's never quite like the first time again, is it? Vince/Tim/Matt/Brady, insert your sexual innuendo here. I set it up just for you guys. Why should I stop walking into them just because we're not still sitting around outside on the patio knitting?

With all that whining out of the way, I would also like to express my appreciation to all the guys that came to the retreat. It was great to hang out with all of you for a weekend sharing our love of a craft. You affirmed my joy of creating, and inspired me to keep honing my knitting skills. I appreciate the time and effort you have each put into your own skill. Above all else, I revel in the joy that each of us take as we build an object and love the fact that we can share that joy with one another at events like this.

To all of you, thank you for sharing your time and selves with myself and Emmitt this weekend. Stop rolling your eyes at my blog Joe, I can hear it from here.


PS: The Shwag was AWESOME, and honestly unexpected. Possibly not being to such an event I'm naive of such things, but I truly did not expect to come home with so much cool stuff.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Packed and Eagerly Awaiting Departure Time

So here I am like a little kid just bouncing with excitement. I have all my crap packed on the back of the car and my Emmitt Dog all spiffied up and ready to go with me. I admit, I'm feeling a bit guilty about leaving the LaCock and the other dogs at home while I escape to Colorado fr knitters retreat. But damn I'm STOKED!

I know you're all thinking, a knitters retreat? Seriously? Yes, seriously. It's going to be a bunch of guys sitting around playing with yarn and sticks. You may think it sound ridiculously boring, but I have news for you. Knitters aren't near as stodgy as non-knitters would think. I have had some of the most outrageous and hilarious discussions with people who others would think would never broach sex, drugs, or other endless subjects that leave you weak and sore in the ribs. So on that note, I truly hope there is no self peeing incidences and look forward to getting to know some others that I have only met through inter resources.

Rocky Mountain Knitting Retreat Here We Come!

Monday, July 11, 2011

Hilariously strange and often twisted connections

WARNING: Today's post contains vulgar language and themes. Please, continue reading!

Do you have anyone in your life that you have a kind of screwed up connection with? You know what I mean. The two of you may not be friends, maybe just acquaintances yet you’ve gone through some trial together and you can’t help but laugh out loud when you see one another. Perhaps you were stranded in an elevator for eight hours together, survived the same ex-boyfriend, or simply watched each other fall on your respective asses in the same puddle on that shiny linoleum tile?

I have a gal that works for the same facility as I do, and we share the rotten twat stairwell. Yes, that’s right. The Rotten Twat Stairwell. You see, several months ago I happened to notice that Monday through Friday, the stairwell at the Eastern end of one of the parking structures always smell like snagglepuss and Kotex perfume. I know, you’re sitting there asking what the hell is Kotex perfume? It’s that powdery flowery “my axewound smells of roses” scent that they seem to use for all scented feminine products. I’ve always wondered why people think their junk should be scented like an old ladies private quarters, much less how they thought that this particular scent would mask any feminine odor issues. But being a gay man I honestly know little about those spam purse nether regions so I kind of just hold my breath and move on when I smell that particular odor. Forgive me, I’m straying from my deviant path… So, this stairwell. Never on the weekends does it have this odor. Always Monday through Friday as I’m leaving work that morning I notice the… scent.

Well, a couple weeks ago I wasn’t feeling so well after my last shift. Kind of run down and exhausted and as I walked into the lingering cloud of powdery garden snatch compost in the sweltering sun smell, my filter wasn’t quite up to snuff. Without even thinking I asked to what I assumed (there’s that evil word again) was an empty stairwell, “Why does it always smell of Kotex perfumed rotten twat in here?” I know, why would I assume at 0730 on a Monday morning one of the more well used stairwells would be empty? I was tired, I was kind of nauseas, I just didn’t think. From above me on the next floor a female’s laugh rang out so loud and hard I thought of bolting out the door opposite of me though it would have put me on the wrong floor. But she turned the corner and it was to late. What did I do? Did I apologize, did I blush, did I stammer a stupid excuse? No, I laughed. And then asked, “Do you know what I mean?” And she did.

She insisted that she completely understood and though was an avid stairgoer had found herself considering using the elevator for that whole one floor due to the odor. I was relieved to hear that another had been tempted to find a route around this odor, and that she too agreed on the nature of this particular odor. Now if we could only find who is leaving this cloud of nastiness behind them so we can take appropriate fire hose powered douching steps.

Today as my work partner and I were walking towards the parking garage, my Rotten Twat Stairwell partner emerged from the doors. Our eyes met, and we laughed. We aren’t even at that stage were we can have that private smile. Nope, we can only laugh bawdy raucous peals of gaiety. I don’t know her name. I didn’t tell her mine. We have no idea in which department the other works. But we share the Rotten Twat Stairwell. I fear like today when I had to explain to my partner and then take her to the stairwell in question so she too could agree with our assessment, that someday we’ll walk into some employee gathering, lock eyes, and have to hide under the tables in fits of smothered laughter. I would really be embarrassed if we had to explain to someone in upper administration or HR the link only to find out that they have the stinky hoohoo.

I may even have to start taking the elevator… and I’ve already learned that harsh lesson of thinking one is alone on an elevator at 0600 and letting a really rotten one rip only to have the doors open to the roof level (Really? Who the hell else parks on the roof when there’s an entire open garage below at 0600) to find a mom holding her baby and her younger looking than her husband standing there. You’re never truly alone in an elevator… Just a warning.

I personally found it best to walk out like everything’s normal and that the elevator always smells of Thai garlic shrimp farts that make your eyes water, get in your car and die laughing once the fumes have let you take a normal breath again.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

I'm getting so excited!

The's rocky mountain summer retreat is quickly approaching! Less than a week left! I'm fighting the urge to pre-pack. Because then I'd just have to unpack everytime I needed something. Lets face it, that would just irritate me. I wish Emmitt were a real kid so he'd be just as excited as me since he's coming with. But he's the utterly awesome pointy eared frisbee catching E-Mutt which is even better. He'll never have a messy diaper to change, prom to buy a single use suit for or steal my car/money/favorite shirt.
He's looking very underwhelmed about the entire affair, no?

Okay, enough silliness. You all have a great weekend.

Friday, July 8, 2011

He gets on my nerves like sand in the underwear line

So, do you know someone who's very presence in this world is irritating? I am currently troubled by one such individual, and to make the matter even more ridiculous is that I don't even know the person. They're a buzzing annoying fly of a presence in an online community called That's right, it's an e-annoying person. Ridiculous, right?

So, this is a site that I often go to. I love to read others ideas, thoughts, problems and get inspiration from them as well as do some posting of my own. But there is this one person who whenever they write, they come across as the biggest ego-maniac you have ever met. You'd swear he must be a knitting expert that is published monthly in all the best fiber rags by his online attitude. Last week when I posted my socks pics and spoke of the toe, I was informed that they look fine and that his opinion was the final one. Really, his opinion in his own writing, ws the final and most important one. This was just an addition to all the other comments he's made to tell me of the mistakes I've made with my choices, knitting style, and execution. Now, not to be an egotist. I'm not an awesome knitter, but I do decent job. This week, I posted an update regarding a yarn issue I have been having with a purchase I had made out of town.

Basically, I had yarn quite literally fall apart on me over the holiday weekend. Yes, it was frustrating and I thought I was going mad because I have never seen such a thing happen. But I had a plan. I would call the store and the yarn company on Tuesday when everything opened back up. When I did, I had a pleasant experience with both the store in Cheyenne that was willing to replace the skein and the yarn company who asked me to mail it on in so they could replace it for me. It all ended up being caused by a batch of fabric softener the yarn company had been asked to demo(5 gallons worth). It was found to like to disintegrate organic fibers. Yeah, not so hot for hand spun yarn, eh? Anyway, it was all taken care of and I decided to post an update on the site I had originally asked for some help on to see if anyone else had had such an experience or had advice regarding this.

And here is where my trouble started again. This sand grain under my groin panel wanted to bad mouth the company. Which hey, if they hadn't been so helpful I might have joined in a bit, but they had wanted to right the situation with no urging from myself. For that, I can only really be thankful. Let's face it, they could have told me to bugger off instead of explained the issue and offered to right my problem. Some would argue that they should have recalled the yarn but I can understand to a degree if they didn't know exactly how bad the damage to the product was across all their product lines (I imagine 5 gallons worth of fabric softener affected a very large amount of yarn). They are a small company, and a recall... can you say "Ouch?" With the current financial crisis I could see one large recall could quite possibly have shut them down. With the loss of revenue for that product, and the shipping of product back to them and then replacement of it? That's a chunk of money. Especially if not all the yarn was as badly damaged. I can see the logic in waiting for the affected parties to contact them regarding it. Yes, it sucks for me, but is it an obstacle that is insurmountable? Hell no, and I'm just stoked with all the crappy service that happens in this town, that not only was the yarn company willing to fix it, but so was the vendor I purchased it from. Not that long ago I had a major dye lot issue with 2 separate projects using the same yarn producer and the local yarn shop owner told me there was nothing wrong in what both I and all others that saw the items/skeins could see. So I'll take this service with the smile it deserves.

As for my internet irritation... I have long wanted to respond to him. I have purposely not for a couple reasons. The main one is that I feel as though written wording can sometimes be taken out of context due to it's lack of inflection. And second, I just didn't think it was the correct forum nor did I want to get into a duel with the man. but this time, I decided to respond, not only in a private message, but to his public posting about how it's all about the money. I figured it was time, and he gave me an opportunity for it to not just sound like a personal slight that upset me. So, fingers crossed...

In the past, I have tried to have his postings removed from my subject lines due to them being offensive, but due to their lack of outright insults or vulgarity they don't get cut. I try ignoring him. He starts off with private messages that I tend to just delete. When that doesn't work he steps it up like your little brother always did and goes with public postings. When that doesn't work, he leaves you be for a couple weeks, then starts again. Of course, my theory is that the little turd has no real friends in Canada so he's got the time to be such an annoyance. And honestly, such thoughts do give me a warm feeling. Even the friendly Canadians have their skid marks of personalities to deal with.



Wow, I hit 200 views. Not that this means much to anyone other than myself, but I'm glad that someone keeps returning to read my thoughts on it all.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

New and Meager Beginnings

So I'm being a bad kid tonight. It's a sluggish night for a holiday weekend and I have my personal laptop with me so I'm taking a few minutes to do some updating. Just a warning to non-fiber skanks, this is another knitting post.

The socks are so done. And much to my surprise, the wonky toe that the pattern called for is more comfortable than I would have thought. As for the picture, I promise I'm not wearing high waters. I was trying to show off the socks a bit and I was running out of time getting ready for work and walking dogs and what not. Sorry.

These are the "Queen Kahuna Crazy Toe's and Heels"Two at a Time socks. I had some trouble following her true to form 'crazy' instructions, but if you have someone who's done them before that can guide you through they're pretty darn awesome. I do belive I may now be a two at a time convert.
I wanted to try the two at a time to see if it would make the dreaded ribbing go any faster. To a point, it did. But on that note I was thinking about the baby blanket that was completed and how much I love Moss Stitch for a textural highlight and realized, Moss Stitch is just as tedious as ribbing, but why do I find it a breeze yet despise ribbing? I know... kind of weird.

I also got to start the replacement shawl for Bob's sister Meagan. I' really excited about this project. If you have read prior postings you know said shawl became a table runner. I think this one will keep my interest going much better. Not much of a beginning but it is a start. These triangle form the bottom edge shawls are my favorite. I love how it gets quicker and quicker as you near the end.

Yarn Choice. I think she'll love it

Meager Beginnings
This is the designers pic. NOT MY OWN Just to give you an idea of the finished item
Other things in life... I have decided that although I adore the Sullivan dog, he is my last Great Dane ever, and my last pure breed dog purchase. He to date, is my only 'purchased' dog. All others have been rescues, and true to the stereotypical form, he has been my msot expensive dog. Between illness's and injury he has at a year as of the first of July cost me probably close to 3,000.00 in the 10 months we've had him. He is on his 3rd round of antibiotics in as many weeks for digestive issues, the last batch costing me 140.00. And honestly, the price isn't the issue. It's more the fact that he just doesn't fit our lifestyle so well. Camping is a chore with him and seasons... He gets to hot to fast in the summer and too cold to fast in the winter for a lot of outdoor activity. You worry about joints, bloat and his protective demeanor at all times. Like I said, I love the bugger and enjoy having the big dog around and hopefully he'll have a long and healthy as possible life, but I won't be buying another dog ever, nor will I plan to have another non-mutt. But, those are just plans. God knows what will really happen.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Let's not forget some knitting

Also, I got the baby blanket finished.

And I'm still working on the socks, but there's close to being done. Just a little update for any knitters who might read this and care... You fiber skanks know who you are.

Negativity, Apologies Possibly Due, and Spirituality

First all, let me stated that I'm trying to not be negative. I had the epiphany after a discussion with a friend yesterday and watching a show that was recommended by another that sarcasm, wry humor and my other wise smart assedness personality can come across as just plain old negativity. Truth is, I try not to be generally negative. I, like all of us, tend to have my better moments than others, but all in all I do put some conscious effort into not being a drag to be around.

With that said, I do realize that my sarcasm is a type of shielding mechanism. Instead of showing if something truly gets to me, I throw out some snippy comment and run for cover. More often, I am just shooting for some humor in most situations. I don't think there are many problems out there, including all in my life that can't be turned around looked at from another side and maybe laughed at a bit. Because of that behavior, I tend to get to the laughing stage a bit earlier than others, and lets face it, my sense of humor is sometimes just more twisted and dark than others and this practice can come off as crass and negative.

On that note, I feel as though I owe the town of Casper WY a bit of an apology. My posting regarding Casper not being the place for me, seemed to maybe upset a few. Truly, I didn't mean to insult anyone. Casper is home to many people. It just isn't home to me. And that's what I'm looking for. Home. Alaska may always be that for me, and if that's what I find to be true, I'll probably find my way back. Until then, I will try not to come across as a snobbish transplant that compares everything to what I'm used too. Please note that I stated , "I will try". And feel free to point it out to me when I'm doing it again.

I have a friend who the last time I saw her made the comment that she was, "Not having a good life". That comment struck me as unsettling. Not a good life? I agree, it's not the life she had planned in the least. Life as usual, threw her a curve ball or five as she planned and mapped out what she was expecting to do. It does that to all of us. And though it may not be the life she had planned, was it truly that bad? Maybe to her it is, but it got me to thinking about my comments on Casper. No, Casper isn't home. I never imagined nor planned to live in Casper WY. But does it make my life suck? No. Interesting at times? Most definitely. Vexing and frustrating at times too, but that's a far cry from bad. I have a good partner who I love, four awesome dogs, two of which and a strange and adoring cat that wouldn't be in my life had I not ended up in Casper. Several friends, many laughs and good times that would have never come my way. So no, Casper isn't home, but it's brought me many a blessing as well.

I was sitting at a local coffee shop with a couple knitter friends the other morning and the religion theme came up again. It seems to be arising often lately. Mainly I think because there was a group of local ministers across the room that one of my friends knew several of. I of course nicknamed them the "Holy Rollers". So of course, our conversation took a turn towards the spiritual. I don't think any of the three of us are particularly religious, but we each have our own sense of spirituality. And this is why I like these people. We can each discuss our thoughts and feelings about this normally volatile subject and there are no hurt feelings, arguments or sneers. We respect each other enough to respect each others beliefs and remain solid in our own.

I was raised a Catholic. I attended mass, was baptized and confirmed to St Anthony's Parrish in Anchorage. My father was the one who insisted that this was done. My mom considers herself Lutheran though I have only ever seen her step into a Lutheran church once for a funeral we were attending. Unfortunately my father's idea of raising us Catholic was to drop my older brother and I off at the closest church for mass then go to Village Inn for breakfast for himself while his second wife took their kids to her non-denominational church. The cheap bastard wouldn't even spring for us to have breakfast while he was hiding from God. At 9 I got us escorted and banned from St. Benedicts by Sister Hazel for refusing to call the priest "Father". I called him Scott and insisted that I didn't like my own father so why in the world should I call this stranger with soft clammy hands father? At 12, I told my father I would no longer be going to Catholic Childrens Development Classes every Tuesday night after I was once again kicked out of class for questioning Mary Margaret Buchard my aging french instructor who despised my very existence on something I found puzzling in the bible. I was to take the bible for truth and have no expectations or thoughts outside of said scriptures. As I walked to the check in desk to once again await the end of classes I caught the two nuns exchanging money and guilted them into admitting that they were placing bets on how soon I would be kicked out of class. I for some reason found that very hypocritical and decided that if my father would rather have me sit in some class to absorb the lessons he had never taken to heart than spend time with me, I'd rather read the bible on my own those nights and do my homework at a decent hour.

In High School I took a Bible as Literature class and found to my amusement that I and Alice, another student who's families insisted on religious classes that she too was regularly kicked out of were the best read regarding the bible in class, although several of the other students were still going to Catholic Childrens Development Classes as well. I realized that I was never going to fit into the church going scene once and for all and I think for the first time laid down my own sense of spirituality. Some would probably call me a Pagan. I would never list myself as a Witch. I don't have any magic in this blood. I do consider myself pretty monotheistic though. I think many of the pagan gods are simply aspects of the main one through time. I've worked in too many hospitals and dealt with too many committees to think this world could be run by one such gathering of Gods and Goddesses. It all works to smoothly for that. No, definitely a monotheist here. Basically, I think there is benevolent creative being out there. And the few times I have truly felt the need to pray, I've always felt there was someone listening. And though I may not have gotten what was requested, I have received what I needed. Which was typically just the strength to keep going. And guess what, I didn't need a priest to mediate between me and that presence (Sorry Pope Benedict... Your just not the little red patent leather shoe wearing guy for me). So, I'm not quite sure what you'd call that. I'm not an atheist by any means, Agnostic doesn't fit quite right, and I guess that's because I'm not looking for the answer. But I am a believer. Mainly I believe that none of truly no what or who is out there, and as far as an afterlife, since no one has come back to report on it for more than just a few minutes I think we're all going to be a bit surprised when we get there. And I think that's the way it should be, no? But I do believe that we should treat others with a certain respect for their choices, their beliefs, and most important, we should strive to treat them with that respect and strive to do the right thing. Even when it's simply shutting up and letting them go on with their life as it doesn't harm ourselves. That shutting up thing though, is going to continue to be a life long lesson for me.