So much past inside my present....

It took a few hours, but I think my stomach has finally started speaking to me again after all the awful things I did to it yesterday.

Our dear friend Ryan is leaving The Black Drop and, in the not-so-distant future, Bellingham and 'round these parts nobody goes anywhere without a proper send-off. So we had the (second) Deep Fry Party*, where everyone brings anything they're brave enough to batter up and dip in oil. There were too many items to list everything, but some of the notable mentions included the customary cheese wiz-filled corn dogs, shrimp and bacon won tons, Snickers (my contribution), Oreos, Nutella and peanut butter sandwiches, and a concoction Arianne came up with-- macaroni and cheese encased in garlic cheese biscuit dough**. The best however, occurred after we left in the form of deep-fried Tums.

As is also customary, there were also quite a few shenanigans, including the wearing of unitards. Poor Eric, who had been at home sleeping and was only there to ferry me home, got a little caught in the middle of all of it, though he never had to actually wear the unitard. He was a damn good sport about the whole thing, however.


On the knitting front, I've made some decisions. After a slight color change, I've decided that the Rambling Rose Cardigan is the next sweater project, in part due to the fact that I could get the yarn for that one soonest***. I'm also testing out another yarn for my brother's Baby's First Tattoo cardigan. I'm trying out bamboo, but I fear it's going to be too.... the best word I can come up with is "slinky."

I'm kind of grabbing at straws with that one, as nothing I've seen in fingering weight has been able to meet all of the requirements. I wouldn't think it would be that hard to find something in solid, non-wierd colors that doesn't require massive jumping through hoops to care for, and yet here I am testing out a bamboo yarn that will make my baby brother look like he's wearing a satin smoking jacket or something.


* -- There's good stories behind why we've all done this to ourselves not once but twice. I prefer to live inthe now, though.
** --These eventually became known as "Cheese Fists" and were incredibly yummy.
*** --Is that even a word?

Love letter to Sunday.

I remember way back when Sunday had become just another workday in a long stretch of endless retail weekends. Then I changed jobs to a new wonderful place where I only worked Sundays if I felt like it, which mostly I didn't. Since then, I've come to appreciate having that day completely to myself.

Sundays around here are generally dedicated to football, knitting, and sometimes a big cooking or baking project. Last time it was chili and lasagna, but I might try and throw together some whatchagot casserole today. I'm on a mission to use what's left in my cupboards until I go grocery shopping next week, but it's starting to become quite the challenge now that I'm running out of both fresh and canned vegetables. But I'm too determined to go out to eat now, so I'll be coming up with something awesome out of the odds and ends.

Then again, I might bag all of that in favor of the pizza in the freezer. That's my favorite part about Sunday-- doing exactly whatever I please.

As freeform as my Sunday afternoons tend to be, I have set myself to a sort of knitting schedule. A couple of the projects I'm working on are time-sensitive and won't get done unless I hunker down to do them. So I've set a schedule for the next week of not-so-much when to knit, but what my project(s) of the day are. (I like having more than one option, so I listed two to three projects each day to give me a choice.) Next week I'll review and make a schedule for the next week.

It probably sounds a bit crazy, stringently scheduling what is essentially a hobby. But there are certain things I've promised myself I will accomplish, and it seems that won't happen unless I start getting disciplined with myself.

So for the rest of my Sunday, it will be a highly anticipated football game, laundry, and working Project A, E, or D.