Knitted Yarmulke, Baby Gifts, Camping Pictures, and Sob-Inducing Books

I knitted a yarmulke the other day.  It’s kind of awesome.

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I also finally finished my knitted gifts for my favorite blogger, Heather of Heather Eats Almond Butter.  I wanted to wait until I knew she’d gotten them before I posted pics of the finished objects.

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The Sleep Sack is Comfort Wool’s Owlie Sleep Sack.  It was my second attempt at cables, and it was amazingly easy…this is a great beginner pattern for someone looking to try their hand at cables…the cabled portion is short and sweet, just enough to push you out of your comfort zone, followed by ten inches of mindless stockinette, during which time you can silently rejoice over your conquering of the dreaded cable needle;).  The owls blocked out really well.  I used Hobby Lobby’s I Love This Cotton, which was insanely soft.  I’m totally going back to spend some green papers on more of that to make myself a sweater sometime in the near future.

And here are some camping pics…I intended to post these earlier but somehow didn’t feel like posting during my recent bout with the plague (come on, freaking left ear….pop already).  Here’s the campsite

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It was fabulous…secluded, wooded, spacious.  There was an elevated pad for the tent, which was nice…it rained on us Sunday, and if it had poured, the tent pad would have kept us from getting flooded.  Check out this fire ring…

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It was HUGE.  We could have put a whole tree trunk in there…Joey actually had a little trouble managing to fit the cooking grate in it.  You’re looking at our breakfast Saturday (9/25)…potatoes, leftover chili, and hot coffee.  Food is better cooked over a fire.  I don’t know why.  It’s just that way.

I’m leaving for NYC on Friday, to sing with the choir at this concert at Carnegie Hall.  My voice is starting to go (for some reason, that’s always the last thing to happen when I contract the plague.  Once, I lost my voice for three weeks).  I’m hopeful that I won’t end up lip-syncing during what’ll probably be my most outrageous singing experience ever (of course, I’ve said that before and here I am heading to NYC). 

I’ve re-discovered how much I hate shopping.  Before leaving, I needed:  a bag to carry around the city, a duffel bag for packing, a black top for the concert, new black shoes for the concert, and jeans (I only have one pair that I can get in right now).  I have been to EVERY (affordable) store in Charlotte.  And I hate it.  I’m a mercenary shopper…I run in, attack the racks, try things on in an insane frenzy of elbows and hair, sweating and ripping things back off and half-putting them on the hanger right.  But I’m finally done…four pairs of jeans from Goodwill, a bag from Burlington, black top from Belk (in the south, it’s “Belk’s”), and Aigner shoes from The Shoe Dept (on clearance for fifteen bucks!).  I don’t want to shop again for the rest of the year.

So, I’ve watched Criminal Minds, Joey’s watching a show on PBS about the Moral Majority and abortion…they totally just showed a clip from the 80s where Jerry Falwell was giving a speech about abortion and got a pie thrown at him.  Wow.  And I wish that I had remembered to get a decaf latte at Caribou when I met my parents after work.

Oh, and this week’s book for class, Our House in the Last World, by Oscar Hijuelos, reduced me to a snot-dripping, crying, basket case for half an hour this evening.  It’s a great book, but for once, I’d like to read one that doesn’t make me cry and wonder what’s happened to my life.  It also makes me want to write things that are that important.  But I don’t know if I really have anything that important to say.

Here’s the baby…sleeping soundly on Vellux.

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Love to all…

Apple Cider Vinegar, My Left Nostril, Kitty-Melodrama, and Shopping Woes

**edited to add**  I am absolutely not contagious.  I went to the doc on Tuesday of last week and got an antibiotic, and I am contagion-free.  Just not snot free.

I’m on the fence about this apple cider vinegar thing.  Right now, it’s just making my stomach burn and making me want to puke a little.  It hasn’t worked to clear my sinuses like all of the websites say (don’t ask which one…it’s all of them.  Trust me.).  Maybe I’m supposed to actually flush my sinuses with ACV, but I have a feeling that would burn even more.

Lingering issues are my left nostril and my left ear.  My left nostril is still stuffy and my left ear needs to pop, more specifically (I almost typed “poop”…hehe).  I have most assuredly had enough fluorescent yellow snot to last a lifetime.  I’m pretty sure that I’m going to cough up a lung during this concert at Carnegie Hall and it’ll fall onto the stage and Melinda Doolittle will slip on it and slide across the stage and into the well-dressed, mild-mannered crowd.  If you hear that story in the news next Tuesday, you’ll know I was the culprit.

Shelli is growing increasinly dramatic about her food lately…even though her bowl is still well-filled, she has taken to scratching incessantly at the office door (which stands between her and her plastic carton of food) as though she hasn’t been fed in weeks and is making her last attempt to procure nourishment before resorting to going all “Donner Party” on us in our sleep…It’s kind of cute.  But mostly annoying.  And a little unnerving.

I hate shopping.  I have to find a black dress shirt and black shoes for the NY trip.  I found a shirt, but I’m not really thrilled about it.  Whenever I shop by myself, I wander aimlessly through the store, randomly touching things, until I get frustrated and leave.  Sometimes, I’ll flip through the clearance racks, but if I can’t find something absolutely glorious for under ten bucks, I’m pretty much guaranteed some sort of inner tantrum.  This problem has only been exacerbated by the fact that I have to go to the “Women’s” section sometimes.  When in the hell did I become a “Woman?”  Not “Misses,” not “Petite.”  I grudgingly let go of the Junior’s department when I hit my mid-twenties and everything in it started looking like it came straight out of a whorehouse.  But entering into the “Women’s” department is a whole different animal…it’s like they expect you to age up a decade the minute you move into a Size 14.  I will give it one more try before I leave for NYC.