Hand in Unlovable Hand

Very Important Business

2007-07-12T21:10:00.000-07:00

Mike has hidden my camera somewhere. This means a few things.

Firstly, you can't see anything that I've finished recently.

Also, I have a really great excuse for not having proof of said finished items.

The Harry Potter fun was also not documented. Alas, that was just a bunch of knitting in a theatre waiting for a movie to start. This was the only time Mike has not looked at me with his crazy eyes (which indicate my insanity, not his) because I purchased the bucket of soda that comes with free refills. We got there at 7pm, which gave me many soda drinking hours. The photo oppurtunities were plentiful, and we missed all of them.

So, in place of photos ... actual words. The horror! Don't worry, I'll try to keep it short.

In June of 2008 Mike and I will have been together in one way or another for 10 years. That's nuts! We decided that to celebrate the nuts we should have a party of some sort. Something fun and special. I immediately focused on the first order of business - the music. In the process of thinking about what will be our smashing good song list it occurred to me that such an event will require a first song. You know the first song. That one that's your song. That first song you have to sort of dance to all alone up there before everybody is apalled and finally joins you to hide you on your special day.

Right, so I turned to Mike and asked, "do we have a song?" Maybe the fact that I had to ask him should have prepared me for his response of, "why would we have a song?"

I was not prepared. I was really sad. I started playing every song that has ever reminded me of him or that we have sung together. It was looking bleak for a while. We've sung a lot of songs together, and still we couldn't find that one song.

Then I realized something ... we don't have a song. We have a lot of songs. So I changed my plan. I started making a list. The problem with having more than one song is that you only have one that you can do the first dance to. I've decided to get your input.

Moonage Daydream - David Bowie
The Origin of Love - Hedwig & The Angry Inch
Chariot's Rise - Lizzie West
Downeaster Alexa - Billy Joel
Romeo & Juliet - Dire Straits
Take Me to the Hospital - The Faint
Each Coming Night - Iron & Wine
Thank You - Led Zeppelin
Fool in the Rain - Led Zeppelin

I know it's a motley list of songs, but we've narrowed it down to these. Where Billy Joel is concerned, I'd like to note that neither Mike nor myself have ever been fishermen or "worked with the rod and the reel" in the way that Billy Joel means, but we still really love this song. I'm convinced that if anybody had sung Downeaster Alexa on American Idol during Billy Joel week they would have won.

Mike made me take Fine Young Cannibals off of the list as well as Mr. Vain by Culture Beat and Rhythm is a Dancer by Snap. I may never forgive him. I think he's just afraid to get funky in front of others.

Any comments you have are welcome. I'll even accept jokes about our terrible taste in music. This will be a very do it yourself event, so I'll also gladly accept any recipes for feeding large groups of people and classy decorating on the cheap. As it stands all of my plans include giant bowls of olives and snowflakes cut out of the scrap paper from work. The knitters who read this will be able to back me up when I say, I may know how to knit, but it doesn't mean I have any sense of style. This anniversary thing could be a disaster. Luckily I'm giving us 11 months to plan it.

I promise more photos of Mike in tight pants are to come. I can't have my most favorite reader disappointed.

All of the rest, or Estes Park Wool Market pt. 2

2007-06-25T18:38:00.000-07:00

It would seem that I took about 200 pictures of llamas and alpacas and only 100 hundred of the various other animals. This is fine, as I am now under the impression that the goats and some of the sheep know how to work the camera. One might chalk this up to a lack of dignity on the part of the animals, but I think that the llamas and alpacas are, at heart, working animals, and find pride in completing tasks, wheras the animals pictured here are mainly used for fiber and sometimes their milk. They're not often saddled up and told to pull a carriage or carry things. So, they have time to practice their vogueing, sometimes even visiting the clubs.

This girl clearly knows how to accessorize. Barrette in hair, goat on lap. I wish we were friends. And then we have the parade of fantastic horns. I really love when they curl around the ears. This goat and I became dear friends after he twisted his neck and horns through the bars to eat my shirt while I was looking in the pen next to his. Nice fella.
This one was very austere and stand off-ish. Who needs friends, after all, when you've got a set of horns with such amazing symmetry.
And this lovely sheep had a nice set up being inside and not being tied up waiting to be judged. It was sunny outside and much too hot for such a dark pretty thing. Again with the crazy twist around the ears.
Among the goats it was very popular to use their horns for scratching. I have several photos of this. I kept running from pen to pen saying, "Oh, that one's doing it, too!" Mike found this to be worth giggling over.

These goats were being fed a potato chip by a nice little girl. I'm not sure how this fits into their normal diet, but they were really excited. I imagine if your normal diet consists of hay, a greasy potato chip is a nice change of pace.And here is the yak that tried to eat Mike. That's Mike's hand. He was going in to pet it, and it opened its mouth lovingly and gently chewed on it. Mike's hand was clearly without taste, as the yak quickly moved on to somebody else. Other than the chewing, the yaks were quite nice. I would invite them to tea. Especially if they needed a combing.And last, but not least, a photo of my puppies. I love them, although they do not bear me any fiber. They shed everywhere and I can't fathom using their hair for anything. I'm just not like that. Now, the rabbits ... that's a story for another time. Charlotte is the black and white one and Kyrsten is the brownish one. They're nice and terrible, like all things one loves.

Estes Park Wool Market pt. 1

2007-06-19T20:07:00.000-07:00

On Saturday Mike and I woke up early, readied several large cups of iced coffee and headed for Estes Park, which is not only the most picaresque drive I've ever been on, it lead to a fantastically gorgeous setting for the Wool Market.

Because I took about a thousand pictures, I'll break up the post into pieces. In this installment we'll be touring the camelids.

We started with some carriage races. When I am king, I will have one of these and the alpacas or llamas to go with it.Mine will have spots, though. Lots and lots of spots. Like this one. I kind of like the blue merle color. I'd love to spin some of that and then knit it up. I imagine the outcome would blow your minds. Alas, my dreams of having a spotted alpaca drawn carriage are a long way off. Sometimes life just isn't fair.These are paco-vicunas. They are cute and wee and oh so unbelievably soft. I would have run off with one, but they're not exactly easy to hide.

I learned a bit about them when Mike and I went to the lecture on ancient South American highlands culture. There's a vicuna on the Peruvian flag (that's a close up of the crest). Their numbers are low because they've spent most of their history being killed for their soft bits. I think that's terribly rude, and I'm sure you do, too.

These ones were just babies and mostly sleepy. I was dumbfounded at every turn by how long all of their necks were. It's otherworldly and magnificent.
This one I named Old Blue Eyes for obvious reasons. The owner told us about how they don't generally breed for blue eyes because there is a propensity for deafness. I was reminded of small gene pools and royal families. I giggled out loud and when everybody turned toward me I sobered up and said, "I'm sorry. She's beautiful." And she is. Beautiful and really wicked cool. Wicked ... cool.
This one wore a bandana in order to indicate that it was a cowboy ... or cowgirl? In any case it was pretty damn cute.
This one had no eyes and no legs, but look at that hair. This one was my favorite. It made faces at me. At no point did I see any eyes, but I did see lots and lots of teeth and a big smile. I named it Charlie. I figure that way we keep some gender neutrality and I like the idea of a llama named Chewy Charlie.
In this photo you can see the mountains in the background. It doesn't do the scenery justice, but it might give you an idea. It was just beautiful. The most important part of the photo though, is the little girl leading her llama up to the pole for the llama limbo they had. She made it really far, although she didn't win. Her llama followed her under and over this pole. It was cuter than cucumber sandwhiches and tea.

And here you see a slightly older girl, but still young, who had limited success with her llama. He would not jump, despite the pole not being of any great height at all. This was after the limbo, in which he was very cooperative, so I suspect he was just tired of following his little girl around. She should have given him a treat. Do llamas respond to treats? Surely they do.
And these two ... well, they were just too cute. I think they're getting ready to grow up and be working pack animals. Their little baby packs are pretty ridiculous. I wanted to put my chapstick in them. Can you imagine?

Stranger: "What's that?"

Me: "Oh, that? That's just my chapstick alpaca or llama." (I promise I would find out exactly which animal I was allowing to tote around my chapstick.)

Stranger: "What?"

Me: "You know, I take him around with me so I have a place to put my chapstick. I mean, where do you keep your chapstick? In your pocket?" (followed by a loud snort and me walking off in a hauty manner."

And last but not least, a resting dark hairy llama. This one was very nice and didn't mind all of us strangers just walking up and poking at it. The poking wasn't malicious. It was more as a result of our reluctance to get too friendly with the llama, who didn't seem to have a person anywhere in sight.
The end .. for now. Next there will be photos of Mike being chased down, trampled and eaten by adorable yaks as well as Mike being gored by pointy horned goats.

p.s. I'm sure that I've butchered any and all information about these animals. Rest assured there will be even more butchering and a great showing of the less than little knowledge that I have about fiber bearing animals. I promise next year, I'll be far more informed.

Developments

2007-06-07T19:08:00.000-07:00

So, after having a moth-related heart attack last night, I'm glad to say that all of the yarn and roving that I had laying about exposed has been properly stowed. Granted, Mike thought me a bit wacked when he saw me running around smacking all stacks of fiber that I had. It's just, maybe there was a moth hiding inside. You know? I don't want to go trapping the moths inside a plastic container with a lifetime's buffet. So, if you happen to be over at our place, don't mind me if I start hitting our jackets, laundry or exposed fiber. You'll thank me later when you don't have to deal with my complete nervous breakdown.

To help calm me down after the Mothra experience, I knitted. Of course. Here is a sock. This sock is for Kelly. I hope they fit. That's what I always say, though.

And then there was a sweater. This sweater has been suffocating inside this bag for nearly a year now. It's high time it gets out for some fresh air. So, I'm setting a goal date. This lovely thing for the lovely and clever Cara will be done on or before Sunday, July 1st. You'll all hold me accountable, I hope. After all, I need to get moving on finishing things other than socks. Y'all are probably under the impression at this point that I can't even knit and that I'm just borrowing unfinished objects from other people to put up here. You're wrong, and I'll prove it.

These are Mike's new pants. They are purple and tight and stretchy and totally hipster and emo and skater and anything ridiculous that you can think of. I love these pants. I'm not sure if Mike feels comfortable in them. I think he might feel a bit exposed. It's because they put his junk on display.

When he wears them I like to say, "Can't you put your junk away? Everybody can see it." Then he laughs. These pants might not seem blog worthy, but if you've ever met Mike, you'll find the pants development to be of utmost interest. Mike, in general, wears loose and comfortable clothing and certainly not anything with any sort of elasticity. I'm still trying to get him to wear them to work.
And last, but not least, we have a new addition to the family. Her name is Giselle. She is a Jetta TDI. She eats Diesel as TDIs are wont to do. She is clean inside and free of dog hair. She gets amazing mileage and many other lovely things. Unfortunatley, last night she was struck upon the head by a tree branch. The Boulder/Denver area experienced some pretty ridiculous winds that came rolling down from the mountains. This caused the breakage and flight of many a heavy branch. Alas, Giselle has been dinged up a tiny bit, but she has insurance and her insides are still clean and she still gets about 600 miles on one tank of gas. I'll take that any day.

Oh my god ...

2007-06-06T20:33:00.000-07:00

Hide the yarn. They are coming for it. Not a single skein is safe.

Not knitting ...

2007-05-22T17:44:00.000-07:00

So, I have been knitting, but not all that much. This weekend we spent a good deal of time with some friends who moved here from Chicago around the same time that we did. I like them for many reasons, not just because they like to drink just as much as I do. Cara here is putting some iced coffee back in the fridge. She was enjoying some coffee and Kahlua, while I was cooling down with my favorite mixed drink, gin and tonic.

They were packing up their apartment, getting ready to move to Denver where things are, in general, more like Chicago, simply by virtue of being an actual city. I'm pretty sure they're moving because, like me, they're tired of having little to do and having to travel so far to do it. Additionally, I think they are tired of hearing unbelievably privileged college students utter sentences such as, "Dude, the powder was so sweet this week." This can alternately be replaced by something about hiking or rock climbing. This isn't because they hate sports or the outdoors. It's something else entirely. These folks are drenched in a sense of entitlement and upper middle class benevolence, which manifests itself in ineffible ways. They have more money than any college student I've ever met, even funded ones with jobs and publications. I am scared of what their contribution to society will be. I'm not talking scientific developments, literary publications, etc. I'm talking about how they treat other human beings in everything that they do.

So, while they were packing, Mike and I sat around and did what you do when folks won't let you help. We drank. Parker likes baseball, so we watched some inter-league games. I made fun of them and in general had no idea what was going on. I was told, though, that the Rockies should win against the Royals. I have no idea how the game turned out. My picture of Parker was bad, so instead I give you a picture of a picture of a man playing baseball. It's meta, no? Not really, I guess.

And then there's Schweezie. She's their doggy or they're her humans. She's lovely and silly and she pretends to be afraid of me, but she really loves me. We play.

And the real reason that I've not been knitting much or posting ... skating. I've been roller skating. A lot. I'm glad to be skating again. I had almost resigned myself to skating infrequently because I couldn't find a decent rink around here. While looking for a weekend job to bring in extra cash and help me finally pay off my bills, I found a posting looking for volunteers to ref for derby. Although volunteer wasn't exactly the pay that I was looking for, I love to skate, so I guess there goes the extra money. I figured I'd go see the practice space and maybe find a new place to skate. What I found was a really nice rink with great floors and a great group of people. It's not as lovely as Orbitz back in Illinois, but still nice. I finally have a place to skate. I'm also working on my skills so I can ref for derby, which I love almost as much as I love just skating, but not as much as I love knitting. It's hard to beat knitting. I don't have the photos to prove it, but trust me.

2007-05-13T16:59:00.000-07:00

This, my friends, is Maggie.

No, not that woman in the pink and grey, the baby. Maggie is the first, and currently, only baby of my former boss and coleague. Aside from the demon eyes that children are wont to have upon being born, isn't she cute? I've only met her a few times, and I don't think that I'll probably meet her many times in the future. All of this aside, you see that green cardigan she's wearing? I made it. Before she was born. Before we had any idea if she was a boy or a girl or whatever. This didn't matter much to me, as I had no intention of making this child any sort of clothing that could easily gender stereotype it. Her birthday was in November and I felt that this child would need some green. Green is so fresh and full of life, like some babies. It can also, of course, indicate infection and the presence of bile in vomit. But these were not on my mind when I chose the yarn. It is a mercerized cotton of some sort. I think maybe it was from Louet, but who can be sure. I finished this thing in October of 2006. You can't expect to remember that far in the past, especially after the last two months I spent in Chicago.

The pattern was Trellis from Knitty. A tiny cabled cardigan for a baby is a great way to impress everybody that doesn't know you're being lazy. Still, it was a really fun pattern. I'm still amazed at how quickly I worked it. This is the first picture they have of her wearing it, but they tell me that it is their favorite piece of clothing and that they get nice comments. Someday, maybe, she'll give it to a baby that she knows and there will be a nice family heirloom. These are some of the thoughts that keep me smiling on nights when I'm sad and lonely.

That woman in the pink and grey ... that's not Maggie's mom and I have no idea who she is. Probably a nice aunt or something. I'm sure she's lovely.

And all of this Koigu? Well, a yarn shop closed in Denver. I had never been to it and was not terribly distraught over its closing. The place was very cold and boutiquey. It was in a neighborhood that reminded me very much of the scarier places in California full of scary folks with tons of money and no idea what to do with it. This is not to say that it wasn't a nice place when it was up and running. The owner who rang me up and helped me when what I was holding became far too much for two arms, was wonderful. I wish her luck in her future endeavors.

I walked out with a considerably large amount of yarn for considerably less than it should have cost me. I picked up only sock yarn, as the thought of buying only one bag of stuff to make a sweater or some such caused a sharp pain behind my eyes. If I limited myself to sock yarn only, then, I decided, I would be okay, and I was. There were other yarns purchased, but I wanted to show off the lovely Koigu, as most of the other stuff is now wrapped in plastic. There were also needles and measuring tapes and the like. Isn't it nice?

Above and below these meager words are some wonderful sock yarns from The Loopy Ewe. There is some Schafer Yarns Anne and some Opal, as well as a skein of Louet in there. Below is a close up of the Opal yarns. The black and grey is for my favorite Double Crosser. She's a retired player for The Windy City Rollers as well as being of considerable awesomeness for other things. I thought she would like some socks, and what better colors to do them in, but the colors of her and my favorite derby team? The red and pink I just liked so much I couldn't help it. I might have to make some sort of Valentine socks or summat out of them.

And last, but definitely not least, there was a place called The Wizard's Chest right next to the closing yarn shop. It was an enchanted place somehow outside the realm of the scariness of Cherry Creek. What got me to go in, after all, was that the storefront was a castle! It was filled with games and costumes and juggling items and tiny plastic babies. I'm talking tiny. Smaller than my thumbnail. And as I was perusing the aforementioned items, I looked up and found what I had thought didn't exist any longer. 221B Baker Street. I've only played this game once, but it was a copy of the game that had much use and implied that the game was no longer made.

In this game, which is somewhat like Clue, there is a mystery and for each section of the board that you can make it to you get a clue. The clue is a special clue having to do with the specific story that you're using. There's a book that you have to reference repeatedly, and although it sounds like more work than Clue, it's absolutely worth it. If you ever have the oppurtunity to play this game, I suggest you pounce.

Oh, I tasted the new Diet Coke Plus. It has vitamins in it. Vitamins! I promise you, I'm not making this up. I have many thoughts on this new addition to the Diet Coke line, but I'll save that for another time.

A couple of things I've learned ...

2007-05-02T21:20:00.000-07:00

Or, I'm sick of trying to format this thing so it looks nice and I have to wake up early and I'm sorry if it looks like crap, but here is the post. I promise to figure this out next time. Sorry if it looks like a junior high project website about bacteria or dinosaurs. Unless you like that sort of thing, in which case, enjoy!

Sometimes, after several socks not allowing you to knit them, one comes along to give you a kiss and make your day. This sock has done just that. It's the gartered rib sock from Sensational Knitted Socks. I love that book, as do many other brilliant boy sock knitters that I've had the privilege to know.

That monkey you see is just something Mike drew nearly eons ago when I was sad and he called me a monkey to cheer me up. I replied that if I was going to be a monkey, it would have to be an octomonkey. I meant a monkey with eight legs, he thought a monkey with eight tails. I think he might have made the better choice.

A week or two ago Mike and I learned how to spin with a drop spindle. I show you these bits I've done so that you will be amazed at my improvement when I show you how terrible my first bit of spinning was.

We took the class at Shuttles, Spindles & Skeins. Maggie was our teacher and I have to admit that I am very lucky to have such an amazing yarn shop to patronize. I'm convinced Maggie will have me spinning on a wheel by the end of the year. That is, of course, if I can manage to get into one of their classes. They're really popular, and I'm not as fast as you might think.

Now for the terrible photos of what Mike and I put out during class. You'll kindly notice that, as I suspected before the class, Mike's yarn was far more impressive than mine. Maggie barely talked to him the whole class. He picked it up like a hundred dollar bill on the sidewalk.

If you still can't pick his out, it's the baby skein/hank with all of the blue in it. She gave us two different bits of roving to try our hands at roving that had been carded differently. I'm fairly certain these words I'm using are the right ones. I worry about using them, since I'm not sure if I'm making it all up. Mine was so inconsistent and out of control. When she showed us how to ply it, I nearly fell on the floor giggling at the thought of bothering to ply the junk I had created. But I'll have you know, I was unbelievably proud of this crap. I plan on knitting it up into some tiny small bit of crap. There's something truly amazing about the moment when you realize that you're making yarn. Each drafting motion is exhilirating. This was even true when I was spinning this junk, this wonderful junk. Now scroll back up and note how much I've improved.

Maggie told us that if we attempted spinning the next morning we would be better than we were that night. So I went into work early and stood around in the cafe (there's a cafe inside our office) and I went at it. Maggie was right. I should not have been surprised. She seems like a lady that has learned a few things and knows what she's talking about. I've improved with each go at it. Soon I'll be able to spin with confidence. I'm looking forward to the confidence.

I bought this beautiful roving after class. It's not as beautiful as some of the stuff I wanted to try, but I tried some of the blue during class, which is the same stuff as the grey, and I don't think that I'm ready for the combed stuff, which was creepy and shiny and enchanting. I will practice more and then work up to exciting thing like alpaca and such. My plans for this stuff is to spin it on my "maggie" maple spindle, which is hand made, and then to hand knit some mittens for my hands. Do you see the wonder? Hands!

You may not be able to tell this is a shirt, but it is. I bought it because it makes me want to knit knee or thigh high socks/stockings with tons of color work which will result in a beautiful forest clearing image like this. The shirt is from Threadless and is titled "Can't See the Forest for the Socks." They also have this wonderful shirt, which I've ordered, but not yet received. You should buy one, too. It's perfect. A sheep made of balls of yarn. It was meant to be.

And last, but not least, the plants. We have a tulip. I keep trying to name it, but the range of names has been so wide I can't even begin to list them. It is our only tulip. I am proud of it. We didn't plant it, but we haven't killed it and we're not as stupid as our neighbors that mowed all 28 of their tulips along with their grass. Mind you, their tulips are in a flower bed, not in their lawn. I am just as amazed as you.

And here you see there is a bush that miraculously appeared in our yard. It was not there this morning. I swear it. This morning it was just some sticks, a naked sad bush that looked exactly like the other naked sad bushes next to it. When I came home from work it had completely changed. I love it. I have named it Neil after Neil Jordan, who is obsessed with rapid transformation. Although, I've never heard him admit it.

And then there is the weed. Our most impressive plant of all. I'm hoping that it grows at least another foot before our landlord comes buy and pulls it out himself. He probably wouldn't mind, but it's in the front flower bed and he's mildly prominent in the community. What would they think of him if his tenants cultivated a weed and regularly stood outside taking photos of it? Nothing good, I'm sure. I think he's already lost points for the amount of yarn I get shipped to the house. Our mail lady is growing increasingly frustrated with all of my packages. Maybe I'll let up when she stops making fun of my name to my face. Maybe.

All of it, all of it

2007-04-30T20:33:00.000-07:00

I decided that since there is no way anybody is reading this blog at all anymore, that I should start posting more regularly. I also found the battery to my trusty pocket camera. Things have fallen into place. For the recuscitation of this thing I decided I should start with the blog's impetus, which is to say, Blue Moon Fiber Arts and its Rockin' Sock Club.

The first installment came and I said nothing. I was busy hanging my emergency sock yarn in various places and wondering just where I should put my sticker. Sorry. I'm sure none of you were looking anyway.

After starting up the Inside Out sock, which was the pattern for February, I was really excited to run into Theo, who I've met before. He's one of three boys of a coworker of mine and he greeted me quietly and said the following, "Will you show me how to knit? I want to make a sweater for my whole body." I was a little taken aback, but it turns out his gramma had been breaking him in a little and convincing the child that he wanted to make a full body sweater that may or may not have included some sort of head covering.

In any case, Theo plopped himself down next to me while I was on lunch and swiftly figured out how to knit and purl for the desired ribbing effect. Mind you, this was on size 0 needles with medium weight socks that rock. Nice and tight and awkward. He, of course, did wonderfully.

So, imagine my chagrin when on this very same sock, later that very same day I managed to turn the heel on the wrong side. I have, needless to say, had quite a fight with it and thrown it aside. I have since cast on no less than three socks and they have all been doomed. They are all cooling off for a bit, while I consider further action. To the left you can see the offending sock. Looks nice, but it's trying to eat my brains. I'm sure of it.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Blue Moon was having a contest for the members of their Rockin' Sock Club.

We were to suggest names for new colorways yet to be released, the theme being tides. I'm sure you've all read about this somewhere else. If not, though, please ooooh and ahhhh at how it is that I managed to think of a name that was so wonderful only about a billion (or seven) other folks sent in the same name. This mattered less to me when I came home one day and found that despite being among so many geniuses like myself, I had received prize yarn for having a winning name entered. And it wasn't just any yarn, it was the yarn that we had all named, and it was my very own Undertoe. And here it is, with a nice flash glare and everything.

You can get a better sense of what the whole skein looks like below. It has some green, mauve and purple. It sort of reminds me of varying degrees of fuzzy mold. I know this sounds gross, but I love mold. It's fascinating and usually beautiful when it's not invading your lungs or eating your flesh or anything like that.

On the left there you can see the April installment of the Rockin' Sock Club yarn. It's beautious.

It's so beautious, in fact, that it has 108% fiber in it. 89% superwash merino and 19% silk. Having participated in exciting labeling mishaps in my life, I delight in this one and I'm fully amused at the notion of 108% fiber possibility in a skein.

And, last, but absolutely not least, I have some photos of some photos. The whole taking photos of photos thing makes my head hurt a little, like when you purchase a bag at a store and they put it in a bag for you to walk out with. I always feel like having a bit of a rest when things like this happen. But on to the fun.

These photos were taken by Rusty. As you can, maybe, tell from the photo on the left I asked what Rusty's given name was. It was given to me by his lady friend, whose name I've forgotten entirely. I only remember Rusty's given name because she wrote it on the back of the photo. This is one of the many reasons why you should try to not meet fabulous folks while getting a bit drunk on free beer. They take scandalous photos of you. I only escaped with these two.

I like to imagine that they gave me these two because they were the two with the least impressive captions.

I was hoping to visit with them some more and take my own photos of them, but they didn't show up this weekend. I hope they come back. It may be that, unlike me, they think that showing up two weekends in a row for free beer at the Avery tasting room is tacky. I've been informed by Peter, who is the wonderful guy that runs the tasting room on the weekend, that there are some folks that have been showing up on the two weekdays that they're open and on the weekends. I try to tip him okay, even though he never puts out a tip jar or pint glass. It's great fun there, stop buy if you're in Boulder, CO. There's always something interesting on tap in addition to a wide range and representation of their beers. For instance, their Reverend aged for about a year in Opus One cabernet barrels. Tasty doesn't even begin to describe this beer. The body alone was amazing, and I never would have tasted it had it not been for a Saturday visit to the tasting room.

Oh, I've also learned how to spin with a drop spindle. More on that later ...

Art, I love it.

2007-04-02T19:42:00.000-07:00

So, we've been going to the Denver Art Museum quite a bit. We are now members, so I suppose it makes sense. When we were there last I took some terrible photographs of this pot. It is by far the most wonderful pot I've ever seen in my life. I think I'll go back and try for some better photos before it goes away. In any case, it is a pot with various incarnations of Corn Woman on it. In each depiction Corn Woman's body is made of corn. It is beautiful. It nearly made me cry.

To the left you can see a very blurry photo of my favorite incarnation of Corn Woman. She has husks surrounding her and she's just beautiful. You can also really see the corn.

To the right you can see a photo that is actually in focus. Corn Woman is much smaller, but you may be able to get the sense of how beautiful this pot is. In my defense, they had this pot hidden behind many other pots. The photo to the right was taken through three glass cases. They really had this thing hidden.

Looking at these pots reminded me of the weaving that Mike brought back for me from Costa Rica. It was then that I realized I had proof that I have a liking for more colors than grey. This is no surprise to me, but nobody ever believes me. To the left here, you can see what Mike got me in Costa Rica. It's just a little over a foot wide and about six feet long. I'm not sure what to do with it, so I just keep petting it. It's nice and soft. Someday I'll have an enormous dining table with a candelabra in the center and under it will be this. Maybe that's a bit tacky. We'll see. I'll test it out before committing to it. All I need to test it is a giant house with a dining table.

The best part of our most recent trip to the museum was my photo next to a Nara painting while wearing a Nara shirt. We were quickly told by the nearest guard that photos were not allowed in that particular gallery. They should really label every entry with the no camera signs if they want me to know. If I walk in through the pot gallery and there's no sign, I'm not going to know. In any case, I was sad because I really wanted a photo next to the stacked heads in the coffee cup. I suppose this will do, though.

Finally, I'll get to some knitting. I'm sure all knitters have given up looking at this blog (except for Aidan, who I love more than he could know), because I never seem to mention knitting. Here is a pair of socks that I made for Chris. She loves them and this makes me infinitely happy. I used the Dublin Bay Sock pattern, which is rather relaxing. I can see how some folks might get bored with it. It is, after all, a boat load of stockinette, but I enjoy it. It's a great pair of socks for somebody that likes simple, but still enjoys a bit of flair. I used some Regia that I found laying about under all the other yarn. I rather like the colors.

I even wrapped it up in a little wrafia I inherited when I first started working at Intelligentsia. It came with my desk. I inherited some odd things while I was there.

It's gettin' hot in here!

2007-03-26T19:28:00.000-07:00

We've been busy. There's been a good deal of dinner attending and imbibing of alcoholic beverages. I rather enjoy free alcohol. It's a good way to supplement the alcohol that I pay for. We've somehow managed to squeeze in good CO adventures in, though. We went to the Denver Art Museum for the "Making Metal" event. They had a good deal of metal related art events throughout the museum and out front they had professors and students from the University of Colorado doing live pourings. We watched the bronze pouring, which was both freaking cool and terrifying.

You can see here the furnace being removed from around the crucible, which is insane hot. I can't even believe they let us stand as close as we did. If you look close you can see a woman holding her child in terror, while a child holds a man's neck in similar terror. Little did they know there would be more and with each new development, things would get hotter.

Here you can see two men of the huskier variety trying their best not to burst into flames. It was a tricky business. In mere moments this hot glowing cup filled with molten bronze being held by salad tongs was to come far too close to my face. It was a bit exhilarating.

Do you see? Things were on fire! This was maybe a foot from my person. There were children standing next to me openly discussing moving beyond the magic rope that divided the crazy people from the lookers on. They wanted to go help these people pour. Even the flames couldn't convince them that touching anything on the other side of the rope was a bad idea. Children are often not as smart as I think they are. Perhaps they're just more adventurous than I am.

Again, do you see? The bronze is HOT! I also like this one student's desire to stand out in the crowd by going with the space suit variety of protective clothing. I appreciate this kind of gusto, especially here in CO where brown leather is so popular. Little did I know this student would later disappoint me.

They put a penny in the hot bronze to teach the kids some chemistry. All of us grown ups already knew what they were trying to show us. *Cough* You can sort of see the green in it, which was the copper burning off and then there was a flurry of smoke created by the zinc, I believe. I wasn't taking notes, although I should have been. Isn't it illegal to destroy legal tender? Does it still count if it's just a penny? I also learned that bronze is about 96% copper. This was the professors gentle way of telling her student not to smash at the plaster too violently lest he hit the actual casting and make an unwanted mark in it.

All of those cylinders are the casts from the students. I found myself imagining amazing things. I thought a bit about Jeanie in the bottle waiting to come out. Inside all of that wax filled plaster would be beautiful busts or hands or stunning examples of pure form or of pure function. Something.

Imagine my disappointment when I was greeted by none other than ... The Lion King.

That's right, folks. There was an adult Simba looking me right in the face. I know it's hard to tell in the photo, but in person there was no mistaking it. You can sort of see the mouth opening for a roar. This student in the space suit confirmed that it was indeed his vision of Disney's beloved Lion King. I immediately left and went for a beer at Pints Pub, which is just a block away. They have nice cask conditioned ales and a sick number of scotches. They also have fries covered in curry and gravy. I like it there. It's a nice place to knit. This made me feel better about Simba and his space suited creator. I hope that he can come up with more than that in the future or else being an Art major might not be the right path for him. Maybe he should take up knitting.

Something new!

2007-03-15T21:53:00.000-07:00

I'm going to try a picture or two. I don't really have any on this computer because I took them all off after realizing I had very little memory. I'm in the process of eliminating this problem, but for now, I'm sort of stuck. If it works, there will be a flurry of photos and stories to go with them. I like stories, so I'm hoping it all goes well.

This is a dog painted up like a panda. It has, for the past few days kept me from taking a long walk off of a short pier. It's odd to me that such a simple thing can keep me from leaving my new perfectly wonderful job and sleeping all day. It's better than an alarm clock. I shower thinking of the moment that my computer will load and I can look at this glorious photograph. I'm sure everybody has seen it already, but I don't care. It's fantastic.

And now on to another fun image!

I like to look at this drawing and point at all the lymphnodes that I no longer have. It would probably be easier to point at the ones I do have. I downloaded this picture at the point in my life where I suddenly had to know for unfortunate reasons where all the lymphnodes were located in my body.

This all seems to work, so I'm hopeful about the future of this blog. It will grow increasingly more attractive. I like to cater to folks that prefer their words broken up with pictures. This weekend I'll work on posting more interesting photos, which will undoubtedly inspire me to write something interesting or at least not boring. It will not be about the movie, Rocky Balboa. I can promise that.

Irish Whiskey Marmalade

2007-03-05T17:19:00.000-08:00

Recipe makes 3.6-4.5kg/8-10lbs (Isn't it funny to weigh marmalade in lbs? Maybe I don't make enough canned items.)

-1.3kg/3lb Seville oranges
-Juice of 2 large lemons
-2.75kb/6lb/13.5 cups sugar, warmed
-about 300ml/.5 pint/1.25 cups Irish whiskey (It is also quite good with a small batch bourbon, even one such as Knob Creek tastes quite good)

+Scrub the oranges using a nylon brush and pick off the disc at the stalk end. Cut the oranges in half and squeeze the juice, retaining the pips. Quarter the peel, cut away and reserve any thick white pith, and shred the peel - thickly or thinly depending on what you prefer.
+Cut up the reserved pith roughly and tie it up with the pips in a square muslin (cheesecloth) using a long piece of string. Tie the bag loosely, so that the water can circulate in the bag during cooking and will extract the pectin from the pith and pips. Hang the bag from the handle of the preserving pan.
+Add the cut peel, strained juices and 3.5litres/6pints/15cups water to the pan. Bring to the boil and simmer for 1.5-2 hours, or until the peel is very tender (it will not soften further after the sugar has been added.)
+Lift up the bag of pith and pips and squeeze it out well between two plates over the pan to extract as much pectin as possible. Add the sugar to the pan and stir over a low heat until it has completely dissolved.
+Bring to the boil, and then hard boil for 15-20 minutes or until set. To test, put a spoonful of marmalade onto a cold saucer. Allow to cool slightly, and then push the surface with finger. It is set if skin has formed. If not, boil longer.
+Skim, if necessary, and leave to cool for about 15 minutes, then stir to redistribute the peel. Divide the whiskey among 8-10 warmed, sterilized jars and swill it around. Using a small heat proof jug, pour in the marmalade.
+Cover and seal while still hot. Label when cold, and store in a cool, dark place until required. The marmalade will keep well for at least 6 months.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

I realize now that I was mistaken about the pouring over of the whiskey. You actually pour the marmalade into the whiskey, but the results are about the same. Enjoy!

Of good times and bad

2007-03-04T20:22:00.000-08:00

I have a recipe for "Irish Whiskey Marmalade." When I first saw this recipe I was worried that the whiskey was going to be reduced and in general cooked away. But this was not the case. You go through the pains of making the marmalade and pouring it into the jars and then to complete the recipe you pour the whiskey on top and seal the jars. This creates a beautiful layered and encased look.

This is how I try to rap my mind around good times and bad in my life and in the lives of those that I care about. Sometimes the only good is the bit of whiskey that's in the jar and sometimes the good is the large amount of marmalade.

Right now it feels a bit different than usual. I feel like I am the good-times-whiskey (this is not just because I drink too much) surrounding the bad-times-marmalade of others. My life is moving on in a positive direction. Not only do I have a good job, but I am on my way to being debt free and saving money for some very important things. The snow is melting here in my part of Colorado. Purim brought hamantaschen from Mike's parents' temple on Saturday. My sock club package was waiting for me on the porch when we came back from a grocery shopping trip that cost 30 bucks less than normal because we bought more fresh veggies and fruits than our usual processed foods. A new place to knit opened up in our area that has wonderful coffee and wonderful folks. I am, in general, feeling very fortunate right now. This has thrown me head first into a vast sea of guilt.

Why am I doing so well when all those that I care about seem to be in the middle of the worst times of their lives? What makes this worse is that I have no idea how to help. So, I do the only thing that I can. I offer to make them socks. I have an unbelievably long list of folks to make socks for right now. So, I am knitting my little heart out. Stopping for very little. The arrival of my sock club is like the arrival of comfort food. Mike cooks the food to make folks feel better and I make the socks.

In the previously mentioned recipe, there is far less whiskey than there is marmalade, but they look very cozy in the final jar arrangement, as if they are engaged in a comforting embrace. And maybe this is part of it. Maybe some of us do well when others are not doing so well so that we can support each other in times of need. I'm not sure.

So, to all of those out there that are in pain right now, I am not entitled to the sadness I feel at the knowledge of your pain. However, if there is anything I can do, let me know. I'll be the whiskey to your marmalade. Let me embrace you. I have hugs to give.

I'd be delighted to make that connection for you!

2007-02-27T17:40:00.000-08:00

Transferring phone calls is always exhilirating for me. I'm not sure why. There's just something so uncertain about it. I'm pretty sure it's always successful, but you can never be positive. The person you just talked to might have just disappeared, and along with that lost connection there went a piece of their soul. Maybe.

I know. It's just a telephone call, you say. I can't help it. I get carried away sometimes.

I found out the other day that although Mike's family came from Eastern Europe and some of them were even Czech, he had never heard of a Golem. I scoffed lovingly, as I do and he responded with his usual, "You know I don't know about Jewish stuff. I forgot everything I ever learned after my Bar Mitzvah." I never let him forget this. I am not Jewish and for some reason I'm the one that always wants to make hamentashen for Purim and read the Book of Esther and practice the little Hebrew I know and learn Yiddish and so on and so forth. So, we went to the library, where I knew I'd find my favorite book about Golem. It is by David Wisniewski, and it's likely that your library has it. If they don't, they probably have other books by him. They're all worth checking out and at times worth buying. This particular book is called "Golem." Wisniewski does things with construction paper that I would never think of doing. Even if you can't read you should see his work. Although, my suggestion won't go far if you can't read. Mike now has a sense of the Golem and its significance. This makes me happy. After all, even if you don't particularly enjoy the culture you were born into, it's no reason to remain ignorant of it.

Blue Moon sock club is shipping this week. I haven't received anything yet, but I'm trying to remain level headed about the whole thing. It will arrive and all will be well.

And a note to somebody that definitely doesn't read this blog. When you speak Spanish in front of me, no matter how much you try to whisper, I can still understand you. I know what you said. I am not amused, even though I laughed.

You see, it's all about connections. It's not just phones. That's life. You connect with your culture or you don't. You choose another culture to connect with. Sometimes you are dumped off the line and you have to call back and find what you were looking for again. And sometimes you just have to sit on the line and wait a bit for what you need. Sometimes you're on the line and the person talking doesn't realize it. Connections. They're neat. Our lives wouldn't be anything without them. Thanks to those making a connection here. I like it.

Dearest SagePixie,

2007-02-26T18:53:00.000-08:00

I don't know you, but you're the only person that reads my blog, I think, so this is a letter for you.

You should go to Denver sometime. It's not so cold right now or even snow covered. There's a lot of sun here in CO. I live in Lafayette, myself, which is near Denver, but not too near. I recently moved from Chicago. It's big change. I'm not adjusting well, but knitting helps, as usual.

Where friendship is concerned, I have moved from the dense population of India to the sparse, frozen deserts of Siberia. I am lonely. I'm not alone, as I have a partner, two dogs and two rabbits, but I am lonely. I don't have anybody to sit with, though. I want to sit and not talk or talk about nothing. Folks to do such things with are fun and my kind of people. I had these kind of people in Chicago. Here in Lafayette, there isn't much, and there aren't many people. I think this is why I have started spending so much time online.

I am making socks for Mike's boss, Chris. She's a fantastic lady. I love her to pieces, so she gets socks. She wears 9 1/2 size shoes. I am excited about the opportunity to make socks for her. She use to get them from her gramma, and hasn't had any handmade socks for a couple of decades.

I did see Stephanie post my response on her blog. It made me giggly for a day or two. She's lovely, I think. I also think you're lovely. I hope you're having a good day.

Love, Hugo

I hope they all go home.

2007-02-21T19:19:00.000-08:00

Let's talk about the fact that some of the singers on American Idol are making it difficult to cast on for this sock. Some of these folks are really terrible, and I'm trying to make socks that aren't. Luckily, it's almost over.

Beginnings

2007-02-20T16:45:00.000-08:00

I have started my new job. It is exactly like my last job, but better. It is more organized, more reasonable. There are, of course, some of the same problems. Sales folks, you see, will always cause problems, no matter how good their intentions are. Sales folks are unavoidably everywhere. There is more structure and best of all there is backing. There is support. I already know what is expected of me. I know what my projects will be for a while. I know my responsibilities. It feels so good to know my role, instead of wandering around hoping I'm doing fine but never knowing.

MAS is the same, with slight differences. This is, I think, the idea of MAS in the first place. I'm already in love with the item codes. Folks who have never used MAS will not understand. It's probably better that you don't. Your life is most likely better than mine.

Mike and I went to a place called Pints Pub in Denver this weekend. There was beer and chips covered in gravy, cheese and curry powder. I plan on making this for myself on a regular basis. It won't be hard, but it will be tasty. We also spent time at a little brewery with Chris and Darrin then later played Simpson's Clue with Chris at her huge beautiful and empty house. I wish I could move in just to keep her company. Chris came over the next day and we played rummy and Trivial Pursuit after Kugel. Trivial Pursuit is much easier when you're drinking rum.

Where yarn is concerned I am fighting with a ball of SWTC 100% bamboo. It is cut in a thousand places, sometimes not even going an inch without being cut. I am angry, but this is what I get for buying from the orphan pile. The orphan pile has never backfired on me before. I'm blaming this one on SWTC. I need to mail Nikki her socks. I miss her.

Things are new, but old. We have started down a road I'm not sure I want to be on, but so far it isn't so bad. I hope it stays this way.

What we do.

2007-02-15T14:45:00.000-08:00

Mike and I work in the coffee industry. It, like every industry, has some strange quirks. It has afforded us some oppurtunities, though. For instance, when Mike was competing in barista competitions I was able to knit him some centerpieces as well as dye them in coffee. I've also been able to work with jute bags and other interesting things.

Mike has recently started traveling more. This is wonderful on many levels. He is meeting the farmers that he works with and building relationships. This makes me happy. What makes me happier are the presents that he brings back. He just got back from Costa Rica where he bought me a lovely woven piece. I do no weaving of my own, and although I understand the basics, I'm baffled at how they made this. It is much too long to leave on display at all times, which is a shame. Some day when we're very rich with a loooooooong table I will lay it out. There will be a chandalier with perfect lighting as well, which will make it seem even more beautiful. I'm currently pushing for a trip to Peru. I have wild fantasies about him befriending a herd of vicuna and bringing home all the softness that they have to offer. It could happen.

oh my!

2007-02-14T08:58:00.001-08:00

Sagepixie has read my blog. I do believe she is the only person on earth. So, thanks to you, Sagepixie for reading this and for your kind words in the comments.

Today, on St. Valentine's Day, I would like to talk about Mike. Let's address his knitting ability. He knits, and this has made us the center of attention at many a knitting group. We have historically been the two guys that knit. We have been introduced in the following manner, "That's Hugo and that's Mike. They're guys. They knit." The only place this never happened, of course, was at Stitches in Britches. I miss those boys. But, back to Mike. If knitters are wizards and witches and non-knitters are muggles, well then Mike is a squib. He's capable of knitting. He's not the best knitter there, is, though. I constantly have to show him how to SSK and how to do left twists, etc. Because he enjoys cables and items with tons of shaping and color work. I don't mind showing him these things every week. It's kind of fun. What I do mind is the way that he doesn't need yarn or socks or five projects at once. This man starts a project after picking the perfect yarn for it and then he finishes it. It could take him four months to finish a hat because he doesn't knit during every free moment that he has or even while watching tv, but he finishes his projects without ever looking sideways at another skein of yarn. He is strange. And I love him. Nearly 9 years with this boy and he is still peculiar to me.

And for Valentine's Day, here is a bit from Anne Sexton's 'The White Snake'
"He returned to the princess
saying, I am but a traveling man
but here is what you hunger for.
The apple was as smooth as oilskin
and when she took a bite
it was as sweet and crisp as the moon.
Their bodies met over such a dish.
His tongue lay in her mouth
as delicately as the white snake.
They played house, little charmers,
exceptionally well.
So, of course,
they were placed in a box
and painted identically blue
and thus passed their days
living happily ever after -
a kind of coffin,
a kind of blue funk.
Is it not?"

Now, back to the socks. They call to me.

huzzah!

2007-02-09T09:42:00.000-08:00

I've just been offered a job which I accepted. This means there will be more money for yarn, but less time for knitting. It's exciting, but a bit sad that this is the way things work out. It also means that I will have money for the Nancy Bush class I want to take.

I'm working on Danica from Knitty (http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEwinter05/PATTdanica.html). I'm pretty sure everybody has made this scarf. I've had zero interest in making it, as there is tons of picking up stitches and ends to weave in. But it is the perfect pattern for my mother's hockey scarf. Her team has a three color scheme, one of which actually makes my mother nauseous, so she asked to not have much of it in her scarf. Danica is thus the perfect scarf for her. I hope to finish this today. This will be the first time I've knitted a pattern while reading it off of my laptop. I usually print it up so I can go wherever I want with it. I feel very chained. It's interesting.

There is progress on Nikki's socks, but may the gods help me if all this stockinette isn't boring as hell. It was good for calming myself before my interview yesterday, though.

I promise to post photos when Mike comes back from Costa Rica with my proper camera.

There are a few other projects that I have sitting next to me, but there's no reason to mention them. I will mention, however, that in my interview yesterday I was asked where I saw myself in five years. I couldn't help but respond with the Mitch Hedburg joke, "Celebrating the fifth year anniversary of you asking me that question." I guess it worked. Thanks, Mitch, it's a shame you've left us.

worries and celebrations

2007-02-06T15:51:00.000-08:00

Mike, who you've not met, yet, is in Costa Rica. I get a bit insane when he's away. He is the person that keeps me in check, frowns at me when I've spent all my money on yarn, goes stiff in the back when I've bought yet another book that I will never open again after finishing it, cuts me off when I've had too many gin and tonics (which isn't hard since he's the one that makes them for me), etc. So, he's in Costa Rica, and I'm not only expected to keep myself under control, I have our dogs and rabbits to take care of. Usually he does the bulk of this. What this means is that I have to act like a grown up. This is fine. I can do it.

I started out being an adult after I dropped him off at the airport. Driving home from Denver International Airport was my first foray into driving here in CO. On our drive out here from Chicago, I stopped driving in Nebraska due to my need to knit and nap. So, the driving went well, although it was a bit scary, as the roads were dangerous at the time. For some reason, throwing dirt on top of snow and ice makes driving conditions a bit safer, but not by much. I miss the salted streets of Chicago. Sure it rusts your car, but at least you don't think you're going to die at any moment because nobody's car is gripping the road and dirt is constantly being kicked onto all of your windows. After this I made a trip to the Social Security office and to the DMV. I found out that although the federal government will recognize that I am male, the state of Colorado needs me to go see a doctor first and have them fill out a form. This means my driver's license will have to wait until I have medical coverage, because I'm not going to pay a doctor a bunch of money so that I can get a driver's license.

All of that sitting and waiting and being responsible translated into me needing a trip to Shuttles, Spindles, and Skeins, the nearest and most stocked yarn shop I've ever been to. Mind you, it's not that close to where I live. This is mainly because Mike, in his attempt to find a place centrally located, managed to place us far away from everything instead of far away from a few things and close to the rest. We'll deal with this when the lease is up. I went for some yarn to make my mother a scarf. Her hockey team changed their colors and she's still wearing her old scarf to the games. She feels that she is the focus of much staring and giggling because of this. I think she's crazy. Everybody there is drunk and most likely giggling at some nonsense like their own flatulence. Alas, I will make her this new scarf, since she has made two of her own attempts and is still at the point in her knitting where she can't knit.

While at Shuttles I found some Koigu that I felt needed purchasing. When I finish the other two pairs of socks on needles I'll get to this. I also found in the orphan pile some Dalegarn Tiur. Two skeins in goldish and two skeins in redish. I became more than excited when I saw these. They will make a nice pair of Gryffindor socks and also some other little whimsies. After all, it's about time to get started on my Harry Potter knitting. I only have 6 months until movie 5 and book 7. I am worried that I didn't get enough yarn, but also worried that I spent too much money. I am excited, though, because I have a very promising interview on Thursday at 1pm. If I get this job, maybe I can take the class with Nancy Bush in March, if the class isn't full by the time I have the money. Perhaps there will be other oppurtunities. I have hope. Not just for this, but for many other things.

I have just made a terrible mistake.

2007-02-02T23:11:00.000-08:00

A wonderful, glorious and terrible mistake.

I received the email tonight from Blue Moon. They told me there were openings, that if I hurried I'd be able to sign up for the Sock Club. I spent only an hour or two staring at the payment page wondering if I should enter my information and jump into the $210.00 lake that is the Sock Club.

Normally this decision would be very simple for me. Normally I would blink once, then sign up immediately. This time around I have no job and very little money. I've been filling in here and there for a few clams there and here, which means I have a bit of money. All of this money should be spent on paying my insurmountable debt. Instead, I somehow managed to rationalize that the Sock Club was more important than said debt. Hopefully I will soon have a steady income to validate me.

Tell me you understand. Please.

In the morning Mike will wake up and say, "Hugo, what did you do?" I will shrug and avoid eye contact. This is a yarn purchase that is not exactly easy to hide. I can't hide the Sock Club behind the movies or behind my other yarn.

You're not judging me negatively, are you? I'm very responsible. I really am. I just have certain weaknesses. Yarn weaknesses.