I told a good story the other day and, as it's about knitting, I thought I'd write it down. Then I remembered that I sometimes write about knitting on this blog, so here it goes...
A few weeks ago, I wanted to start some socks. I really like bamboo needles generally and I had some leftover Shibui Knits Sock yarn (in Sky) so I bought some 0's, 1's, and 2's in bamboo. It was the first time I'd used smaller than 2's, so I struggled through more than half of the Absinthe foot chart before I realized that I was having a hard time because the yarn was sticking to the needles (I knit tightly) and they were too flexible. I decided to buy some metal dpn's. This is where the story really begins:
I went to Michael's in Cary (near where I work, about 30mi from home) to find some inexpensive metal dpn's (I'm on a super tight budget these days). I craft a lot, so it's really been my go-to craft store. They didn't have any sock needles. NONE. I left, disappointed. It suddently occurred to me that there was an AC Moore nearby and I thought I'd give it a shot. I got there and found a lovely set of 4 sets (of five, of course. Michael's didn't even have ONE set of five) Bates sock needles in a pack (not to mention a vastly superior collection of needles in general) for $10.99. I took them to the register and proceded to pay for them with my ATM/Debit card. They were having a bit of a sale and rung up a 25% off coupon for me. However, my card didn't work. They said that happened sometimes and I should try another time. Sure, I thought. I'll just head home after work (did I mention I should have been at work?) and go to the AC Moore in Chapel Hill and buy them. I stopped by Michael's in Chapel Hill first, thinking I might find something else there, but with no luck. Back to AC Moore I went and found the needles easily (again, vastly superior needle collection), went to the counter where the cashier used a 30% coupon, ran my card, then told me I couldn't use that card. I gave in (because I really wanted to finish the socks and could NOT knit with the bamboo another torturous minute) and got cash out of the ATM. When I got back, I picked up my needles, and the newest cashier rang me up with a 50% off coupon. I paid, left, and went directly home to knit. It was SO much better. You know what was the best though? An entire day of searching for needles, four stores, five times and I ended up paying FIFTY PERCENT of a price that I thought was crazy reasonable in the first place. What a fabulous day!
PS: Just a note, I could have easily found the needles at my LYS, Yarns, Etc., but they don't take my ATM card (I don't have one with a credit card logo on it and I don't use a credit card), I was really trying not to take out cash, and by the time I leave work each day, they're already closed.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Stymied
-noun a situation or problem presenting such difficulties as to discourage or defeat any attempt to deal with or resolve it.
I just want to start by saying that I almost never watch the news. By almost never, I mean I might watch ten minutes once a year. I hate watching the news. It's artificial and depressing. Instead, I prefer to get my news from public radio, where people have intelligent discussions about what's going on. Maybe I should be more diverse, but I'm not. I deal pretty well with that.
Anyway, today, I started watching the news because it came on HLN after Clark Howard. They did a quick pre-blurb on crocheted graffiti. Like, Knitta Please style. What stymied me? They said it's "... graffiti that even your grandmother could enjoy...." and "... this ain't your grandmother's crochet circle..." and it's a "...radical approach to an old-fashioned craft..." All in TWO blurbs, not more than thirty seconds, of talking about the craft, BEFORE the actual story. Now, don't get me wrong. I LOVE my grandmother. She did, in fact, crochet. As a matter of fact, I'm teaching her to knit. But why does the media make it sound like there's some reform going on to make the crappy-old crafts that our grandmothers did into something hip and glowing and new? Is it not worth talking about unless we make that point? I think the crocheting that my grandmother did was awesome and beautiful and useful and artistic, just like knitting and crocheting are now.
I just saw a commercial on tv that included fishing. Something that men stereotypically do. Older men, in fact. Perhaps our grandfathers. But nobody talks about what our grandfathers do in a demeaning way. I don't even think that most men who fish recreationally, eat those fish. It's certainly not necessary for most people to fish. Why no stigma?
The ladies are here, and I have to forgive the announcer because the ladies used the words "old" and "grandmotherly" in the interview.
I'm not upset that's it's called "grandmotherly," I'm more upset about how they make that sound: not warm, hardworking, nurturing, and artistic, but "cute" and "old-fashioned".
I just want to start by saying that I almost never watch the news. By almost never, I mean I might watch ten minutes once a year. I hate watching the news. It's artificial and depressing. Instead, I prefer to get my news from public radio, where people have intelligent discussions about what's going on. Maybe I should be more diverse, but I'm not. I deal pretty well with that.
Anyway, today, I started watching the news because it came on HLN after Clark Howard. They did a quick pre-blurb on crocheted graffiti. Like, Knitta Please style. What stymied me? They said it's "... graffiti that even your grandmother could enjoy...." and "... this ain't your grandmother's crochet circle..." and it's a "...radical approach to an old-fashioned craft..." All in TWO blurbs, not more than thirty seconds, of talking about the craft, BEFORE the actual story. Now, don't get me wrong. I LOVE my grandmother. She did, in fact, crochet. As a matter of fact, I'm teaching her to knit. But why does the media make it sound like there's some reform going on to make the crappy-old crafts that our grandmothers did into something hip and glowing and new? Is it not worth talking about unless we make that point? I think the crocheting that my grandmother did was awesome and beautiful and useful and artistic, just like knitting and crocheting are now.
I just saw a commercial on tv that included fishing. Something that men stereotypically do. Older men, in fact. Perhaps our grandfathers. But nobody talks about what our grandfathers do in a demeaning way. I don't even think that most men who fish recreationally, eat those fish. It's certainly not necessary for most people to fish. Why no stigma?
The ladies are here, and I have to forgive the announcer because the ladies used the words "old" and "grandmotherly" in the interview.
I'm not upset that's it's called "grandmotherly," I'm more upset about how they make that sound: not warm, hardworking, nurturing, and artistic, but "cute" and "old-fashioned".
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Castigate
verb. 1. To criticize or reprimand severely 2. To punish in order to correct
So, I watched Cat Bordhi's video on YouTube demonstrating a proper Magic Cast-On. You know, the one I've been ignoring (well, neglecting to learn, really) in all the sock patterns that I've looked at recently? Yea, that one. I have to say, I'm AMAZED! Especially since every non-knitter I've encountered, children and adults alike, ask me why there's a hold in the toe of my sock. Then, I have to explain that it gets closed up at the end and they may sort of understand once they see me close it, but today. TOSAY!?!?! Today, I ask myself the same durned question! Why, Danni!? WHY is there a hole in the toe of your sock!? WHY are you tortuting yourself with the sewing up, which you HATE to do, as little as it may be, and at the END when you KNOW you have no patience for it anyway and do a bad job!?!? WHY do you torment yourself so? Well. My only answer is that I knew not what I did. I didn't understand the implications of this kind of neglect (or procrastination, I guess I figured I'd learn it some time). Now I understand and I'm sooooooo sorry, self, for putting you through this for all the months (at least) that it's been since I first heard of the magic cast on. I will most certainly change my ways...
So, I watched Cat Bordhi's video on YouTube demonstrating a proper Magic Cast-On. You know, the one I've been ignoring (well, neglecting to learn, really) in all the sock patterns that I've looked at recently? Yea, that one. I have to say, I'm AMAZED! Especially since every non-knitter I've encountered, children and adults alike, ask me why there's a hold in the toe of my sock. Then, I have to explain that it gets closed up at the end and they may sort of understand once they see me close it, but today. TOSAY!?!?! Today, I ask myself the same durned question! Why, Danni!? WHY is there a hole in the toe of your sock!? WHY are you tortuting yourself with the sewing up, which you HATE to do, as little as it may be, and at the END when you KNOW you have no patience for it anyway and do a bad job!?!? WHY do you torment yourself so? Well. My only answer is that I knew not what I did. I didn't understand the implications of this kind of neglect (or procrastination, I guess I figured I'd learn it some time). Now I understand and I'm sooooooo sorry, self, for putting you through this for all the months (at least) that it's been since I first heard of the magic cast on. I will most certainly change my ways...
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Incommensurate
adj. Not commensurate; disproportionate; inadequate
It started last night. I had just started Chart 3 of the Adamas shawl. I feel like I started that shawl forever ago and I was so excited to be nearly finished so I worked on that instead of my homework. I set my alarm for 8am so I would have enough time to get dressed and do hw before class at 11.
Once out of bed, I started preparing my life. I had to get dressed, pick up a book I need for class from the office at my apartment, pick up the wireless keyboard I ordered for my pda and send my sister some stuff at the post office, get to campus, and finish hw before class. Since it was 9, I expected to have all of the errands done and be on campus by 10. I decided I even had enough time for a shower and since I was gonna take a shower, I'd wash my hair. That wouldn't take long. I took a shower and washed my hair super quickly and got out of the shower at 9:45. Ok, so it wasn't all that quick.
I got dressed and left.
I got to my first class (the first one hw was due for) five minutes late, but had plenty of time to finish it up before we turned it in.
I had a test that I forgot to study for in my next class but which was essentially a review from the first test. I also had a homework due that I managed to finish in the last half of my previous class.
My third class was fine and we got out 5 minutes early which left me enough time to check out what the HW assignment was for my Spanish class. It was long enough to make me 15minutes late to that class, which was really fine, cuz I’m never late and I finished my hw.
I went back to my car to stop at home and eat before our THReaDC meeting and was paying for parking. The lady took my $10 and was about to give me change but noticed she made change for a $20 and couldn't figure out how to fix it and the machine wouldn't take it so she let me have my $10 back.
I think the day went ok. What do you think?
It started last night. I had just started Chart 3 of the Adamas shawl. I feel like I started that shawl forever ago and I was so excited to be nearly finished so I worked on that instead of my homework. I set my alarm for 8am so I would have enough time to get dressed and do hw before class at 11.
Once out of bed, I started preparing my life. I had to get dressed, pick up a book I need for class from the office at my apartment, pick up the wireless keyboard I ordered for my pda and send my sister some stuff at the post office, get to campus, and finish hw before class. Since it was 9, I expected to have all of the errands done and be on campus by 10. I decided I even had enough time for a shower and since I was gonna take a shower, I'd wash my hair. That wouldn't take long. I took a shower and washed my hair super quickly and got out of the shower at 9:45. Ok, so it wasn't all that quick.
I got dressed and left.
I got to my first class (the first one hw was due for) five minutes late, but had plenty of time to finish it up before we turned it in.
I had a test that I forgot to study for in my next class but which was essentially a review from the first test. I also had a homework due that I managed to finish in the last half of my previous class.
My third class was fine and we got out 5 minutes early which left me enough time to check out what the HW assignment was for my Spanish class. It was long enough to make me 15minutes late to that class, which was really fine, cuz I’m never late and I finished my hw.
I went back to my car to stop at home and eat before our THReaDC meeting and was paying for parking. The lady took my $10 and was about to give me change but noticed she made change for a $20 and couldn't figure out how to fix it and the machine wouldn't take it so she let me have my $10 back.
I think the day went ok. What do you think?
Friday, February 13, 2009
I was gonna blog today...
...but i just couldn't get my life to feel right so this came out instead. I apologize for how it came out, but this is what it might be. It is for interpreting. You know how the mind does. These things can't be helped. Here's my mindsplatter...
~~~
are you proud of me now?
when you breathe you're such these perfect shades of pretty pink and purple and sunset me well my breath has kind of a gritty tone i move i fidget i wiggle with my fingers of course like a child i want to make to make you proud of me but i get inside and drive away from you away from me because i haven't done or made or moved my imperfection bleeds out my mouth my eyes where your perfection lies please don't give me another chance i need to hurt for a while to console myself with cold bodies get pissed because you don't get it there can't be much more blood you rip out of me would that you find you're happy in the place where my happy left me so much alone isn't good for a body leaves too much space to watch a pink and purple and sunset disappear for just long enough to turn the world stupid grey so...
... are you proud of me now?
~~~
are you proud of me now?
when you breathe you're such these perfect shades of pretty pink and purple and sunset me well my breath has kind of a gritty tone i move i fidget i wiggle with my fingers of course like a child i want to make to make you proud of me but i get inside and drive away from you away from me because i haven't done or made or moved my imperfection bleeds out my mouth my eyes where your perfection lies please don't give me another chance i need to hurt for a while to console myself with cold bodies get pissed because you don't get it there can't be much more blood you rip out of me would that you find you're happy in the place where my happy left me so much alone isn't good for a body leaves too much space to watch a pink and purple and sunset disappear for just long enough to turn the world stupid grey so...
... are you proud of me now?
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