Happy Halloween

In celebration of a really good hair day, some delicious pho for lunch and that most tacky of holidays, Halloween, I would like to propose a toast.  Oh, also magically getting my job back at more or less what I was being paid before.  Drink up. 

Last weekend I did some soul searching on the Satsop River which involved drinking beer, fishing and drifting along in a fine little boat with these guys:

On this boat:

I caught nada on the river that day, but time stopped for the eight hours we were out on the river.  It was a beautiful day, we had no real agenda and the company was good.  Sometimes you’re just in the right place at the right time.  Between us we only had one take home fish, a little jack salmon that I made an ugly fillet and a tasty dinner of.

Back to the daily grind on Monday.  Too bad you can’t really get paid for fishing and/or knitting all day.  For now I’m thinking about getting tarted up and celebrating the end of my unemployment with some pub crawl trick or treating.  Or chocolate.  Whichever comes first.

Unemployment Isn’t So Bad

Easy to say when it’s only been a week.  Outside my window there is Japanese maple exploding in orange and red colors against a blue blue sky.  Not a bad view.  Swan Lake was a pleasure, though I don’t think either Mom or I really anticipated men in tights to be so very… distracting.  I thought that I was going to get used to it, but then… nope, still mesmerizing.  Classic and widely admired ballet, music by a master and all I take away from the performance is from the waist down.  Ah well.  The prima ballerina was lovely, and it was great to see such a strong production from our very own Oregon Ballet School.  That being said, maybe next time we’ll just do the opera.  It’s safer.  I did make one catcall to the French horn player on the sidewalk outside the auditorium, to salute a kick ass horn section.

My week of unemployment has thus far offered me time to knit, hours of video gaming, a little fretting about what to do next, and some semi-productive entreprenurial scheming.  It may even pay off if I play my cards right.  I’m going to look at it as an opportunity in disguise and do everything in my power to make a little profitable lemonade with these dumb lemons.  Self reflection being foremost on my mind lately, here’s a little list of WHAT WE SHALL BE WORKING ON NEXT:

• Finding an excuse to wear those strappy shoes again.  I love them.
• Oh, and get a job.
• Or maybe a business liscense and set up my own little thing.
• Possibly participating in NaNoWriMo, since I’ve failed the last 3 times I tried to do it.
• Travel if I can possibly manage it on the cheap.
• Go fishing.  Because I might as well.

Simple list, some of the items are fairly ambitious, though.  For the time being, I’m going to go do some housework-related task so it looks like I did something other than just sit on my ass all day.

All Good Things

Must come to an end.  As a celebration of what is almost certainly to be my forthcoming unemployment, I’ll be attending Swan Lake this Friday and having drinks with my mom at some undecided but enjoyable night spot.  It would appear that I’m about to become a victim of economic downturn.  Sigh.  On the bright side, I’ll be able to do all of my dishes and laundry and take the dog for some nice long walks in my favorite season.

Speaking of drinks, Ian and I were in Seattle last weekend for the housewarming of a dear friend and recently re-nationalized expatriate.  Welcome back from Chile, Bec.  It was only appropriate that I drink my share of wine to celebrate.  And Jessie’s share.  And futureman’s share as well.  In retrospect, it was perhaps too much of a good thing.  But by God, I got up at 7:30 a.m. the next morning to do an early dog walk before crawling back under the covers on the futon to pretend the hangover would go away.

Thanks to Jessie’s connections, we spent Sunday afternoon riding a little electric boat around Lake Union and connected waterways.  This is how all Sunday afternoons should be spent:

Cheers, Becca!

I didn’t really drink any champagne.  And I wasn’t too grumpy, I hope.  The ibupropen helped.  Also the box of saltines.

 

Dear Santa:

I’d like one of these:

And also one of these when you get the chance:

Let me know when I can pick up the keys.  Thanks!  -H

A Face Like This

This little guy was parked outside my LYS yesterday:

And yes, he was more adorable in person because he was only 8″ high at the shoulder and very happy to get back scratches.  Normally I caution against petting strange pooches awaiting their owners, but he demanded attention with his stout blond gargoyle charm.

I replaced the aforementioned double pointed needles and spent a few minutes coveting buttons.  There are people out there doing some really fun things with buttons as accessories on sweaters, gloves, etc. and I’m thinking I should get in on some of that action.  Right now I’ve got a big fat crush on this pattern from knitty.com, but who knows when I’ll actually get around to making it.  Something about buying that many balls of yarn all at once makes me kind of queasy when you ring up the final price tag.  Plus I have no experience with bobbles.  And now I’m just making excuses. 

Keep dry out there kids.  The rain is back.

Look Mom, She Actually Does Knit!

I know that scarves are pretty pedestrian, but they remain one of my very favorite things to knit.  They’re simple, fairly quick, and a satisfying accessory for half of the year.  I picked up some dusky blue Baby Alpaca Brush for this scarf:

If you’ve never worked with this yarn before, go check it out.  It’s sooooo soft and gorgeous and really quite affordable for as nice as it is.  Makes great hats too (provided it’s not too rainy a day).  Finishing this is a big part of my weekend at home.

Palin Bingo last night left me with only a teensy hangover this morning.  Coffee has helped.  Ian kicked my ass on the bingo card and got the first and only bingo with “Special Needs”, filling out the rest of the bingo line with “Alaska”, the free center “Air Space”, “Hockey Mom” and “Terrorists”.  If we could have used Biden’s words as well it might have been him buying me dinner rather than the other way around.

I’ll be walking the Portland Fall Home & Garden Show this afternoon to check in on some customers and competitors, if I see anything worthy of mentioning, I’ll be sure to pass it on.

Are Drinks Included?

Like what will probably be millions of other Americans, I will be tuning in to the Vice Presidential debate tonight.  I was only vaguely aware of political goings on prior to the addition of the fledgling governor of Alaska to the McCain ticket.  When I read her selection (online, as so many of us get our news now), I thought, oh my God, that was the one thing he could have done to shake up what seemed a foregone conclusion.  Then I kept reading and found myself actually interested, albeit a little abstractedly, in the political circus and diabolical genius of the machines whirring away behind the scenes of both candidates.

So I’ll watch tonight, fascinated/frustrated at what doesn’t get said, because I’m interested to see both of these people and how they respond to questions, what their level of adaptability is.  And most importantly to play Sarah Palin bingo. 

Yes, I will be drinking beer and making wild, unsolicited observations about bar setting (too low, too high?), how a rephrasing of a questions does not constitute an answer, and whether the only thing you can really hope is that you’ll choose the candidate that will lie in your favor the larger percentage of the time.  And if you haven’t seen this SNL skit yet, please watch it.  I’m on my way to the pub.

Last Gasp of Summer

I am sitting at my desk contemplating the golden sunshine and still green leaves outside of my window, putting off work, thinking about nothing and something and nothing again.  So much for being a productive Monday.  With the flurry of election news, economy news and general gloom and doom it’s an interesting time to be alive, to say the least.  But back to the important stuff: yarn, lists and stuff that facilitates pleasant distraction.

The Oregon Flock and Fiber Festival, as mentioned before, was great fun.  I spent some serious time appreciating all of the lovely stock animals, spending the most time petting the goats, whose soft, gorgeous fiber makes me want to keep half a dozen in my postage stamp-sized city yard.  I resisted the temptation.  We talked with a keen little shepherdess, maybe 10 years old or so, who answered all of our goaty questions regarding her six present charges.  Her favorite was the waist high fellow who would rest his head on her shoulder, but she also introduced us to the buck with the ticklish hocks and the little brown goat who gives hugs.  Who knew goats give hugs?  Now I really want one.  Or six.  Or maybe a dozen…. 

I can honestly say that yesterday was the first time I’ve ever tried to pull the cap of my USB key chain drive out of a goat’s mouth.  Hopefully the last time, as well.  Omnivores.  What can you do? 

The yarn was beautiful and I drooled over all of the spinning wheels, but that’s for next year, I think.  Expensive hobbies are my forte.  The weather was unseasonably warm, but pleasant.  I left with my lone purchase of some fire-colored yarn to make some new gloves with.

In other knitting news, my most recent Nautilus hat, as made from Marnie MacLean’s pattern, almost fell victim to the furry garbage disposal at my house.  My dog loves sticks.  Loves them.  She will chase and fetch sticks as small as my pinky finger and as large as a fallen log.  I’ve always figured it’s free entertainment, just watch for splinters, and voila! dog is entertained for hours.  Funny thing, double-pointed needles, like the kind you would use to knit a hat, say, look just like little fetchable, shreddable sticks.  I came home one day to find the hat-in-progress I’d left on the coffee table covered in incriminating dog hairs on the floor.  She had managed to delicately remove every one of the needles in the hat without dropping a stitch.  The needles, alas, were not as lucky.  I’m still finding little shredded bits under the livingroom furniture.  Note to self: put your WIP away, or for the love of God, finish the project to keep it from being a victim of DPN destruction.