Archives for December 2003

Rufus Wainwright really was dreamy. His voice is so clear, and he’s just so darn campy on top of that purity that he makes you want to both pat his head with one hand and buy him gold-tipped cigarettes with the other. You should have seen his PANTS! Christmassey striped and tight as heck, topped by a black leather jacket. He said he was Elvis on top, Liberace (Libby) on the bottom.

And dude. I don’t have his new album, but he sang a song off it, get this:
“Eleven eleven”
Yup.

He and I were meant to be.

He liked my sweater, by the way. Of course, it was hard to hear him say it, since he was on stage, and I was sitting with the sisters in the back, but I know that’s what he said. Yeah. Darling boy…..

Bethany’s back! Wheee!

https://rachaelherron.com/rufus_wainwrigh/

Welp, she’s done. All done. And I lurve her. Lookie:

May I present to you, Olallieberry?

From BonneMarie’s pattern (she’s so reliably terrific that I set my knit clock to her) and done in Jo Sharp SilkRoad Aran Tweed (merino wool, silk, and a touch of cashmere).

A little dance, a la Becky:

I loved everything about this pattern, including the speed and ease of completion. It seriously helped that there was almost NO finishing needed. This was the first time I worked from the bottom up, and I’m totally hooked. Happy, happy! And know what? IT FITS! It’s not too short! It’s not a bolero! Nice as boleros are, of course.

Notice how impressed Adah is (asleep behind me in the chair).

I am SO wearing this to the Rufus Wainwright show tonight.

Hey, but last night I wore (again) the Must-Bolero. Went knitting in the City (seen from BART platform):

Knitting with the gang – the live music was Celtic, which was perfect for knitting to. The only problem was it was a pretty large crowd – all the musicians had all their friends and family and it was pretty damn loud. Hard to talk. And then when we DID manage to be heard over the music and all the other shouting going on around us, a sweet looking little old lady came over and told us to be quieter – that she couldn’t hear the music over us. I agree, that WOULD be irritating. Except that the music was SO loud, her grandson sat there with her with his fingers plugged in his ears. Or maybe that was to drown her out. Huh. It’s a BAR, woman. With loud fiddling Celtic up front, us at the back, and a whole bunch of loud people all around. Why pick on the knitters?

But we had fun, even in the dark. Here’s The Other Rachel, helping John see his knitting, holding the candle up for him.

And the best part?

Joanna!

I recognized her by her sweater – she was as cute as it was, and she was a joy to get to know. And again, I’m struck by how NOT weird it is to meet online friends. We took BART back East Bay together, and it was great just to talk knitting and blogs and, like, stuff. You know?

Except that was maybe a little too much train-taking, because I had a hard time sleeping and every time I woke, I had Sheena Easton in my head. “My baby takes the morning train, he works from nine to five and then, he takes another home again, to find me waiting for him…..”

I hereby vote this as by far the most annoying song to have stuck in your head all g.d. night. Don’t even THINK about the feminist politics of it, or you’ll lose your mind.

Back to work. Tonight, Rufus…..

https://rachaelherron.com/oh_these_posts_/

Take five seconds and go sign the American Family Association’s poll on civil unions/gay marriages. They’re a Pro-Family organization and I just took this from their website:

Does AFA Hate Homosexuals?
Absolutely Not! The same Holy Bible that calls us to reject sin, calls us to love our neighbor. It is that love that motivates us to expose the misrepresentation of the radical homosexual agenda and stop its spread though our culture.

Hee! That actually makes me giggle. They’re going to present their poll to Congress, and wouldn’t it be amusing if it were weighted a mite more heavily on the pro-civil union/marriage side? Poll is HERE.

‘Course, if you’re anti-gay marriage, I still like ya. I just don’t wanna marry you.

Okay. Feeling a little sheepish. Most of y’all have it COLD! I don’t know how you do it. And Ann, that’s HORRIBLE about your dishsoap. I would freak out, really. I would. Of course, my apartment is the size of a postage stamp, perhaps 250-300 square feet, so it takes about ten minutes of running the heater to overheat the place. And I like a nice chill in the air while I sleep. But I suppose when snow surrounds your house, the romance of it costs a lot less than the heating bills, no?

Oh, but to knit and look at snow outside. The jealousy. (I sure love to look at the snow pics on all the different sites – the feeling of Oh! That’s what my friend sees! That’s so cool!)

Finished Olallieberry last night, and I just have to go out and buy a zipper. I am wildly busy all day today, this my last day off before I leave to go HFTH* on Tuesday. AND I’m still intent on fitting a yarn run in this afternoon between laundry and going to the City to knit (Joanna’s coming, too)! Must have more of that warm Paton’s Merino goodness. I think I might design something myself, a cabled cardie that ISN’T CROPPED. Lord, I’m not a belly-barer. Even my tee shirts like a little cover-up. You know?

Oh, and for Mooky:
Digit next to and Adah underneath the heater.

*Home for the holidays…. (Joanna guessed it in my comments before I even realized I forgot to footnote. I shoud just stick to parentheses.)

It’s cold in here. Not really cold, you know, it’s sixty-two, according to the thermostat, and I’m in no danger of dying of exposure, but my toes are cold. Turned the heat on in the middle of the day. Feeling wild and crazy.

But this: I am driving to San Rafael tomorrow to get more Paton’s Classic Merino to start a simple cardie. I am desperately in love with this yarn. I’m wearing the Must-Bolero right now (as I have been almost every day recently) and while I wouldn’t walk out of the house in this particular ensemble (gray sweats pants, yellow socks, a holiday “I Gave Blood” shirt with dancing drops of blood wearing red and green elf hats, topped with the cabled shortie), I’m mostly warm. My top half is, anyway. I LOVE this yarn. Soft, light, completely cozy yet it hasn’t been TOO warm, which is usually my problem…. I need more.

(I know you can’t get over the dancing holiday blood drops (they’re holding hands, wrapped in garlands of Christmas lights). Neither can I. And what makes them worse is I actually DIDN’T give blood last week – I went in to Red Cross, but my iron was too low. They gave me the shirt when I walked in, and then when I tried to give it back when I left, all to a person shook their heads kindly and sadly: “No, honey, you just keep that. Our gift to you. Happy holidays. Oh, good luck to you…..” Sideways glances, poor low-iron thing…….)

Where was I? Oh. The Paton’s yarn. And it’s cheap! One of the best things about it.

And MORE knitting content. Here’s a photo of where I am with the ribby cardie:

I’ve dubbed her, as of last night, Olallieberry. The actual berries are darker, blue/black, but this deep Jo Sharp red is just the same shade as the jam. It’s not a great picture, but the thicker stripe is a gray/bruised purple, and the darker one is a deep purple with flecks of bright blue thrown in, all in Jo Sharp SilkRoad Aran Tweed. And I got a little crazy non-symmetrical with the one sleeve. Just needed to.

This cardie feels good to work on, soft and thick and kind of stubborn, if that makes any sense. A sturdy cardigan. Loving it. And you canNOT go wrong with a BonneMarie pattern, no?

Hey! Have you noticed I haven’t been writing about writing? That’s because I haven’t been doing much of it!Yep! I’m in a slump. I WILL walk to the coffeeshop as soon as I post this (or after I cruise some sites) and I will write today. Haven’t really written in almost a week. Feels like pushing mud to get to the page, although when I get there, the words are ready to happen. But getting there, bleah. I have to promise myself a chai latte (and maybe a ginger cookie) today – that’s the only thing that’ll get my ass into write-mode.

It’s a chai, heater-on, soft-wool wearing kind of day. Yep.

Talked to the sisters night before last – they were on the coast of Georgia, staying in a tree-house hostel. What this meant was that it was forty degrees and they were up a tree surrounded by mesh and plywood, trying to get warm in their sleeping bags. While I thought this was humorous, I don’t think they did. They were taking it very seriously.

But they’re having fun, I believe. Gonna call ‘em as soon as I finish posting this. I’m going to recommend a motel room, perhaps. I know they were thinking about a night in a B&B, but I think that idea was shot by Christy’s unfortunate ticket experience. But a Motel 6? Might be just the thing.

Moving slowly this morning. I have a grand goal today: Finish Christmas. I’ve ordered everything I needed to order and just have to pick things up – this will require a Telegraph trip. I hate going into Berkeley (one house from the border, I am a very proud Oakland resident), and I hate finding expensive parking, but once I’m there, it’s fun. Lately there’s always a young homeless couple that has on the sidewalk in front of them a small cat playing with (or wrapped around) a pet rat. I don’t understand so many parts of this, but perhaps my biggest question is why the hell that cat sticks around. I can’t make a cat stay in one place all day, can you? It’s not tied up to anything and usually appears content to be on the blanket with the rat, also not contained. Any cat I’ve ever known personally would look at me with that “you just don’t get it, do you?” look and then EAT the rat. And probably barf it up immediately, for spite. Dunno.

(Total aside – my favorite street performance in all of the Bay Area is the Bushman.

He’s found on the sidewalk between Pier 39 and Ghiradelli Square and you either hate him or love him. I adore him. He hides behind that bush all day, and when tourists walk by, he makes the bush roar and leap at them. The tourists scream and run and grab strangers around the waist. I’ve seen a couple of them get pretty pissed off, fists balled, ready to swing, but they’re the ones who are laughing the hardest when they watch the next group get Got. There are usually hordes of people behind and in front of him, on both sides of the street, the Recently Got or the In The Know, who are doubled over with laughter, watching the next victim approach. Here’s one of him lying in wait. Come on. You know that’s funny. If you come visit, I’ll take you and I’ll make sure you see him before he sees you.)

Where was I? Oh, yeah, book shopping and music buying. That’s the order of the day. My family, books and music. We don’t need nothin’ else (except I likes my yarn, of course).

Oh – here’s what happens when you come home late from work, reach to fill the cat food container and drop it. Adah’s accidental dinner.