Dear Colleen

Dear Colleen;

We wanted to thank you very much for inviting us to Christmas at your house. Even though you made us wipe our paws when we came in from the yard, it was very nice of you to have the special, delicious treats for us. Our mom NEVER gives us dog treats like that!

It was totally worth taking a bath and getting our butts shaved first.

Love,

Niki and Elphie

Late, but still thankful

At the very last minute, we canceled our reservation for Thanksgiving dinner at The Plumed Horse. It was kind of a bummer, but the four of us decided that it was necessary to do.

Shortly after I canceled our reservation, I ran into Cynthia and Colleen at the chiropractor. When Colleen asked what we were doing for the holiday, I said, "Probably sitting around the house in my underpants eating ice cream."

[Just an FYI, that is the definition of a GREAT day.]

Colleen didn't like the sound of that, and invited us to her house to join her family for Thanksgiving. I pointed out that the four of us would be an imposition, a TERRIBLE imposition, but she insisted that it wouldn't be a problem. Later that night, Colleen called and let me know that the dogs were invited to Thanksgiving, too. (She insisted on this point.)

We had a great time. Mom and I helped Colleen in the kitchen, and I got to torment The Snackary with reminders on appropriate behavior in a kitchen. (I made him call his mom "Chef", and afford her all of the courtesies of that position. It was super-fun.) The dogs got to work the room, and came home EXHAUSTED.

We discussed politics and religion, we ate loads of food, drank wine, and no blood was shed. A great time was had.

Mom pointed out, on the car ride home, that we hadn't talked about what we're thankful for. So, here I go:

I am thankful. I am thankful for my stash, which has gotten me through layoffs, the dot-com bust, and the currently depressed economy. I am also thankful for (what Andrew calls) my "equipment fetish" for the same reason. I always have the right tools for the job.

I am thankful for my mother, who always supports my harebrained schemes because she believes that I am capable of doing great, huge, awesome things. I am also thankful for Sam, who is always quick to point out holes in my plots, or conflicts of ideals. He is no "yes-man", and that's valuable, even if it's obnoxious.

I am thankful for my dogs, who remind me daily that being silly is good for the soul, that there is always time for snuggling, and that honking toys are FAR superior to squeaky toys. I am thankful for joy and comfort they bring me. I am also thankful that they have little interest in yarn or wool- with the exception of the Tess Yarns Microfiber Ribbon. (The dogs have impeccable taste.)

I am thankful for Andrew. I have come to the realization that I have impossibly high standards for spousal behavior, and ladies, he's mine. You can keep your Woolophobic boyfriends and husbands who resent your stash and sneer at your handknits. Andrew makes a big deal about my knitting and spinning, and it's the type of attention this handwork deserves.

I am thankful for Andrew because when the chips are down, we stand together. We work together. We don't have to spend every minute together. It's the way I think a relationship should be. Also, it's pretty snazzy that he can reach things on the highest shelves.

I am thankful for the people who read this blog, and listen to our podcast. Kindness and humor go a long way.

Lastly, I am thankful for my friends. To the people who know when I am a few stitches short of a row, and have the grace to remind me to breathe. The friends who defend my parenting when I feel like a complete failure as a dog-mom. The friends who insist I go out when I'm doing my best impression of a mollusk.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

(Oh yeah, and if you're here for knitting, I've got some wicked knitting content coming soon.)

The perfect office process

Since we moved into our current house, I have had storage problems. Despite the fact that the new place is more than 200 sq. feet bigger, and our garage is bigger, we've lost the awesome storage that we had at the old house.

We are planning to install some storage, it just hasn't happened. It's been a busy year.

But.

My big problem is my office. Because I'm having to keep all of my stash in the house (as opposed to putting most of it in the garage, and some in my office), my office looks like storage at an LYS. Not aesthetic, not tidy, not conducive to any sort of creative thought or activity.

So, I've been hunting for the perfect storage solution, the perfect shelves. I found them, but the unit is going to hang 6" over the window, so, for the last six months, I've been looking for something "better". After six months, I have decided that I can cope with a 6" overhang. It looks like this:

I ordered the unit from IKEA, purveyor of fine Swedish furniture, and they're going to deliver it next week. This coincides with Andrew taking some time off of work to decompress and get a few things done. I would have built it myself, but the unit is like 7 1/2 feet tall and made of solid, heavy, wood.

(For the readers who haven't met me in person, I am NOT 7 1/2 feet tall.)

Ideally, I would have "before" and "after" pictures, but I think that I need a fisheye lens to adequately represent the disaster zone that is my office. But my camera is not an SLR, and I can't add awesome lenses to it. (When Gretchen comes over to play Wii, I'll likely ask her to take a few shots of the improved office.)

This way, the shelves are wide enough for both the storage containers I want for my UFOs, and the bags I store my roving in. This also creates a place for my tools, which makes me incredibly happy.

The Agreement I've made with Tika can only help with the office tidy-ing, since roving will be condensed to yarn, and yarn will be turned into garments. Ideally.

Also, I'd like to share some good news: Andrew has gotten a promotion! You may now refer to me as "Mrs. HR Consultant Level 3".

An "us" gift

Andrew and I are coming up on our 7th anniversary. After hearing all the hype, I would like to announce that we are now the proud owners of a Wii and a Wii Fit.

I've never owned a game console before, so we'll see how this goes. It should be fun, right?

Someone ought to open up a window

I have a series of awesome pictures from 2004, when Andrew and I went to Mt. Rushmore on July 3rd. We have a few shots of me posing for the addition of my face to the monument. I think that I would look positively fetching in stone, don't you?

Sadly, I don't have time to upload any of them today to share, but I will share them. Soon.

I encourage everyone to think about what July 4th means to you- if it means re-reading the Declaration of Independence, reviewing the Bill of Rights, or listening to 1776, do it.

Have a safe and happy holiday!

Happy Birthday, Sam!

Twenty-one years ago, around 7:30 AM, my little brother was born. Sam’s birth was quick, and a little traumatic, but I think (by now) he’s overcome the hurdle of birth.

When Sam was born, I was 4 ½ years old. My parents wanted to do sibling-attended childbirth, so I had attending all the birthing classes, and I was in the car on the way to the alternative birth center. When we pulled up to the building, I was told firmly to stay put and not move and my father would be back in less than one minute.

Sure enough, maybe thirty seconds later, Dad reappeared, grabbed me, and we went inside. Sam had been born.

Evidently, if you’re a woman in labor and you say, “The head is in my pants” , you’re just a hysterical woman in labor.

(I would like to state at this point that the problem with labor is not that the uterus is floating around making the woman crazy – the way hysteria is defined- but rather that the uterus is EXPELLING A PERSON.)

When my father and I entered the room, it looked like there had been a massacre. Sam’s umbilical cord had torn when they de-pants-ed my mother, and Sam hit the ground. One of the nurses said that she caught him, but Mom is fairly certain that Sam hit the ground. Catching a slippery baby is not easy.

Things calmed down, and Sam was successfully born.

Since then, Sam has been my partner in crime, my sidekick, and my co-star. Whether it was a distract-and-drop scheme at the grocery store, preparing arrangements for a song, or growing closer through shared suffering, it’s always been me and Sam.

Sam’s likes include martial arts, liberal politics, and musical theater. My influence there is obvious, I would hope. If he runs for office, I’m supposed to be his head advisor. A wise choice, right?

Today Mom and I called him (at 8:30 AM) to wish him a happy birthday. He’s a college student, so this was pretty cruel and unusual, but we had to beat the rush of birthday wishes.

Happy Birthday, Sam. Drink as much water as you do booze, take an Advil and call me in the morning.

A Day Off

It's my birthday.
There will be shopping, coffee, and excessive TV watching.
Party on.

A Quarter Of A Century

On Saturday, we celebrated my 25^th birthday Minion-style: we went on a ROAD TRIP! After a fair amount of haggling and wrangling, we ended up with a Christian Youth Group style van (seats 13) for a song. (The best part about renting this van was seeing people's faces when I was driving it. I look about 14 without makeup, and here I was, commandeering a land yacht.)

See how comfy everyone is? They had to be- to get to Sacramento, it's a 2 ½ hour drive each way.

You might wonder why we would choose Sacramento- I would, too. Franklin Habit was there doing a shoot for his 1000 Knitters project. How cool is that?! The Minions were all good sports, and the ride up and back went as smoothly as anything could. (Well, it could have been a smoother ride. Colleen may have caught some air after we hit some of the bumps on the freeway.)

We got to Sacramento around noon, found the building where the shoot was scheduled at and went and had lunch at a terrific Mexican restaurant. Not only was the food great, but you could order ceviche by the POUND. I did. It was glorious. Then, by some act of evil Minionage, this happened.

Sombreros. Singing. Startling. When I find out who did this, there will be a proportionate response.

We went to the shoot, and Franklin charmed each and every one of us. I didn't know that most of the Minions don't like to be photographed, but evidently, he managed to immediately put everyone at ease. As always, we have a shot of the Minions with Franklin, and Franklin with my sock.

I have to admit, I was completely uncool. I was so star-struck that my brain just froze. Franklin asked what the yarn was, and my brain went BLANK. I stammered. I don't STAMMER!

I looked at the yarn, and I started talking. "She has a 'C' name… She does that wonderful silk…"

Finally, Mom saved me with "Claudia?"

"Yes! Claudia!"

Ok, I can remember where, when, and how much I paid for yarn. I can usually tell you the yardage from memory. I may not know what today's date is, but I KNOW my yarn!

All-in-all, it was a pretty terrific 25^th birthday celebration.

[Here is a shot Rachel got of me during the 1000 Knitters shoot:]

Otters and seafood and knitting, oh my!

Our morning started like so many others, Andrew and I got up at (roughly) the same time, went through our normal morning routine, and got into the car. Unlike other mornings, we were not headed to work.

We headed south to Monterey, where we were meeting Linda for a trip to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, and lunch at Bubba Gump's.

Andrew had two birthday requests: (1) to attend all of the feedings at the aquarium and (2) no yarn shops. The first was easy to accommodate, the second… not so much. You read the blog.

Air: Normal People :: Yarn: Jasmin

Such is my love for him.

Anyhow, we got to the aquarium just in time to watch the otters feeding:

As always, there were hoards of elementary school children there on a field trip. You'll notice that I was kind enough to give my "window seat" up to them. When asked if the chitluns could stand in front of me, I told their chaperone that any children who were shorter than I am were welcome to do so.

So, three or four of the kids from the group moved in front of me, and Linda and I were knitting while waiting for the feeding to start (and during the feeding):

(NOTE: Andrew was wielding my camera, and a woman standing off to my right said, "Well, if he's going to take a picture of you, you may as well smile.")

One of the chaperons said something to the effect of "It's so nice that you taught your daughter how to knit," to Linda, making a gesture towards me. Linda responded very politely that she was flattered that the woman thought she was my mom, and I pointed out that we were good friends.

Next, we went to the Outer Bay feeding, which was super cool, because they have hammerhead sharks and a couple of sun fish in there. Linda and I debated whether fish were cognizant enough to be jealous of each other's looks. (The sun fish is a weird looking fish. Seriously.)

After the Outer Bay, we saw the Kelp Forest feeding. The last time Andrew and I went to the aquarium, a Sheephead fish was attacking one of the starfish that was clinging to the glass for dear life. The docent noticed, and with the five jillion kids there, he stepped in front of the carnage.

Here are our best fish faces:

At this point in the day, I told Andrew it would be necessary to do human feedings, so we walked to Bubba Gump's.

I know theme restaurants are cheesy and usually suck. Bubba Gump's is a terrific restaurant with incredible service. I ordered like four things on the menu (this time), devoured most of it, and everything was INCREDIBLE. We had to roll back to the aquarium.

Back at the aquarium, we walked through the jellyfish exhibit (my second favorite, only to the otters). I love the mix of elegance, beauty and danger.

To my surprise, they have added a fresh water otter exhibit where the shark exhibit used to be, with BABY OTTERS! So cute!

After watching the otters, Andrew and I came to the conclusion that Elphie is really an otter who was raised by kittens. One of the "enriching" tricks that the trainers had the otters do was called "stand". This is a trick we do with Elphie that we call "Otter pop". It's identical.

Mom’s 50th Birthday Extravaganza!

You only turn 50 once, and we celebrated my Mom's half-century mark with an excellent fiesta. Julie did a bulk of the cooking, and all of the food was incredible. There were margaritas, massages and music.

Oh, and lots of photos:

Julie and Linda cooking away in the kitchen:

The Minion Birthday Sombrero, worn first by Mom:

She obviously loves it:

Even moreso with a margarita in hand:

Of course, there was cake:

Oh yeah, there were also yellow birthday hats, modeled by the Sarah-saurus:

Happy 50th birthday, Mom!