Archives for March 2005

Jen just made me very happy. Dancing Cadbury Creme  Eggs.

Can you believe it? It’s terrible. Awful. Seventeen days of vacay over, just like that. Bam. It’s a tragedy, surely. Why Lala hasn’t won the lottery yet is beyond me. It’s like she doesn’t even try. Y’all need to tell her to do better at picking those numbers, okay? A woman has needs, that’s all I’m saying. And those needs do NOT correspond to working midnight shift. They correspond to long lazy days with nothing to do but spin yarn and knit sweaters and eat chocolate and drink beer and go to movies and travel to exotic locations. And other things we won’t mention. Working all night, surely not.

So, yeah. She needs to get on it (winning the lottery, I mean! Quit it). But I will have you know that when I was sick last week, she brought me sushi and beer. That counts for a lot, people. Also, women give her their phone numbers on BART. And that’s hot. I’ve received unsolicited phone numbers before, but they were from men, and I’m sure none of them were from men I really ended up liking or I would remember that. Or maybe I wouldn’t, given my atrocious memory. So those last two sentences were a waste of your time. Sorry about that.

Also you should know that I’ve finally found a combination of things that my iron stomach does not like. Usually I have no trouble, none at all. But Taco Bell followed by three Cadbury Creme Eggs followed by an Indian dinner of sag paneer and bhindi masala and garlic naan — this makes for a very sorry Rachael. All better now, but I do not like tummy woes. I remember that. Next time I’ll only eat two Cadbury Creme Eggs.

Happy Birthday, darling Em! Whew. Almost missed getting a post in on your birthday. (Of course, I called her last WEEK and sang to her, one of my goofy songs, "Oh, baybeeee, it’s your BIRTHDAY, and you’re so great, and you look good too, and we all LOOOOVVVVEEE you, happy birthdaaaayyyyy……" She called me back and said, "Thanks, babe. It’s next Tuesday." Whoops. But at least I got to talk to her, which was Divine.

And damn, go look at what Lala made with those cables that she never believed would be so easy….

https://rachaelherron.com/happy_birthday_-2/

And you know who’s laughing hardest at me, finally giving in to the SpinBug? Claudia, over at her new house. Go and wish her happy new blog plot, and if you get close enough, steal her Sheepy Sweater for me. I really, really, really want it. Really.

Oh, my goodness. There’s something about it, isn’t there? Janine gave me BEST lesson, ever. She taught me history and technique, and she was patient, and she made me feel like I was doing great, even though it was obvious that I wasn’t — I couldn’t even get the wheel to go only one direction — it kept turning and unspinning/tangling the yarn into great lumpen messes.

Oh, but it’s fun. She loaned me her Ashford Traditional (made in my mother’s NZ hometown, Ashburton) as well as a book, and the oil, and the little picker-thing that I know has a real name, and a Lazy Kate, and she showed me what to do with it all!

Busyangelmom asked in a comment:   What is behind this
recent motivation that keeps   cropping up in all the serious
knitting blogs?

For me, it’s something I’ve always, always been drawn to, ever since I was a kid. I used to open the vitamin bottles and remove the cotton balls and spin them into thread. I would sit on the couch for HOURS doing this, never doing anything with the thread, just wanting to spin. Maybe it IS the New Zealand sheep-farm blood coming to the top, but ever since I saw a woman spinning on her Traveller at a bluegrass festival ten years ago, it’s been something I haven’t been able to let go of.

What I was scared of was buying a wheel and realizing belatedly that I hated spinning. Janine kind of laughed at that, I think. She was right. I love it. I’m thinking about the Traveller, myself, since I could take it to, say, bluegrass festivals. Or Lala’s house. Or, you know. Just the fact that it folds. That’s way cool. I like foldie-things.

It’s like learning anything else, though. I’m impatient. I’m frustrated when I’m not great at it right NOW. I’m getting better, and the learning curve is steep, as everyone says. But when someone tells me a learning curve is steep, I think: Great! I’ll be a master at it and spinning gossamer moonlight by Wednesday. Instead, my spinning isn’t that clumpy anymore. That’s the best that can be said. But look. I’ll show you.

That first ugly white thing was supposed to be yarn. I swear. Stop laughing. The second skein is a little better. The third, not any better than the second (all from Correidale top).

In the bedroom I have three little skeins of better stuff hanging drying right now
:

See? That almost looks like the real thing, don’t you think?

I was so excited this afternoon that my first skeins were finally dry and ready to be wound into (teeny-weeny) balls.

And then I had to:

It’ll eventually be a scrappy little scarf. I have to tell you, it’s surprisingly soft.

I’m in love. Dude. Love.

I don’t notice spam much, as yahoo does a pretty good job of filtering it right to Bulk, where I just delete it without looking. But today one slipped by, and I found its text  interesting. I actually left it open and read it a couple of times. An excerpt:

i ve got the solution – visit the tundra spend a month or two you ll be
longing to hear the sound of other humans!
the signal is soliciting me not to testify to the us government about
the activity of soviet spy rings on the freshwater pearls  and other earthy materials.

What crazy person wrote that? It’s almost poetry, but really bad poetry which is the only kind I like anyway, so I enjoyed it.

Feeling better. Thanks for asking. I think I kicked its ass. Yeah.

And we got a raise! Kind of amazing, when you consider how broke our city is, but we were 19% below top-step dispatcher salary for our county, and now we’re starting to close that gap. It’s just impossible to hire good dispatchers when they can go somewhere, anywhere, else and make way more money, which is why we’re always short and worn thin working fourteen hour days.

Also: Just finished the BEST book I’ve read in a long time. I was in the airport with Bethany waiting for Mom and Christy to arrive from Paris, and their plane was delayed for an hour and a half. So we wandered into the bookshop, and Bethany put a book in my hands, saying, "You should totally read this. It was great. I loved it." I looked at the jacket and said, "Okay."

Her jaw dropped. "What?"

"I said, okay, I’ll buy it."

"No one EVER buys what I tell them to."

And she was right, it was wonderful. The Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. Not great literature, sure, but fun as hell. It’s kind of meta-noir, a thriller novel about a thriller novel, set in Barcelona, and written thickly, all foggy and shrouded. Oh, lovely. (But if you buy it, please buy it at an independent bookstore or Booksense, which is as easy as Amazon and makes you feel lots better about yourself.) Tell ’em Bethany told you to buy it.

Okay. I have lots to do today, including a spinning lesson! I can’t quite believe that I’m going to learn, or going to be able to figure out what to do with my hands/feet, but Janine has been lovely enough to offer her help, and I’m so excited. More to follow. Happy weekend, y’all.