Rachael

The cats are romping and sounding like a million cats instead of just the two that they are. Digit still sleeps on the top cabinet in the kitchen while the dogs are here, so he’s happy to get down and run around when they’re gone. He clobbers Adah with a polydactyl backhand, and she comes back for more, so I let ’em. It’s a companionable house-trashing noise.

The whole magic of Dogs On The Bed keeping away the most annoying cat in the whole world (Adah) has worn off, however. Even people who love that cat admit that she is, in fact, the most annoying. She’s a rescue, and very literally neurotic about being petted. She must be touched, at ALL times, including the middle of the night, and will pat your nose (with claws out sometimes) over and over and over, no matter how many times you fling her off the bed, hoping that you might pet her little head just a bit.

For a while the dogs were a godsend. She slept in the living room and all was peace. But now, she lets herself in* and gets up on the bed. You’ll see that she’s not scared of dogs anymore.

Damn it.

Ah well.

I’m feeling better, I think. I go through stages where I just feel like utter crap, and then I’m fine again after a couple of ibuprofen. I feel like I’m fighting and winning, so THERE. Poor Christy is STILL sick and miserable. This one just knocked her out, but it could have been the jetlag from the Paris trip with Mom….

Last night I had a house full of people watching the L Word and knitting. I tell you what, there’s nothing like entertaining on a small scale, in a small house, to make you feel good. And Lala learned how to cable in between programs. It was great to watch her move from disbelief to faith. Cabling is just one of those things: no matter how many times you tell someone, "No, I’m serious, it’s SO easy. You can’t believe how easy it is," she still looks at you with that "You’ve made a bajillion sweaters so of course YOU think it’s easy but just shut up and show me how EASY this little trick is, you crazy knitter" look. And then you show her how to do it, in one sentence and one demo, and she says, "That’s IT?" Oh, yeah. It’s magic, baby. (I’ll let her tell you what she’s making. Tres cute.)

And a gratuitous yarn shot:

* There isn’t a door in the house that Adah can’t open except for the outside doors, and I’ve caught her hanging from those, her paws wrapped around the knob, swinging back and forth. She’ll get it someday.

Ain’t nothing like complaining about the diamonds on the soles of your shoes, but it’s hot. Really. Hot. Okay, it’s only 78 degrees, but it’s almost 6pm. This is not why I live in Oakland. I like Oakland to be foggy and cool.

I’m also fighting HARD against a particularly nasty strain of flu that had sister Bethany down for two weeks, and sister Christy’s nurse told her it was a good three-weeker. I’m going to win, by the way. I will NOT be sick during my vacation. But I feel crappy and sweaty and gross and feverish and uncomfortable. I’m actually drinking iced water and wearing a wet tee-shirt AND lying under my fan to try to cool off.

Cry me a river. I know y’all are getting snow’n’stuff. Would you consider a house-swap, perhaps? Please don’t mind the germs.

Stay warm (and cool) and knit (or don’t), but love someone up on the weekend, okay?

https://rachaelherron.com/aint_nothing_li/

At the risk of becoming too personal (hey, it’s my blog, right?), I’ll tell you that being a woman can be a pain in the ass. Let’s put it this way: I ain’t pregnant (oh, god! Not that I was trying! I’m just being cute! I should erase this paragraph. I have cramps, that’s all). Erg. Quite miserable, but made happier by reading out on the porch, something I actually hadn’t done since I moved here. It’s really damn loud out there, with the freeway right in front of it, and I wasn’t sure how it would work. Then I realized that it doesn’t really need to be quiet in order to read. Dur. I planted some flowers (in pots) a couple of weeks ago, and I went out to keep the tomatoes and jasmine company. Oh, heaven. It’s sunny but not too hot (sorry, Claudia), and I read myself into a state of bliss. Still rather sun-struck.

Now I’m in the house, listening to iTunes Party Shuffle on my new speakers, running through my new external hard drive. (With PMS comes that frantic Must Scrub Behind The Toilet Oh Must Go To CompUSA NOW manic thing. Do you get that?) I hadn’t realized how nervous I’d been about keeping all my photos and writing and music on my laptop until I dumped it all into an 80gig metal box and breathed a deep sigh of relief. I do keep my writing in online storage, also, and I have the important photos on CD backup. But otherwise, I’m terrible at backing things up, and I’d HATE to lose all my music. I only have two days worth on my iTunes, but it’s good stuff, man.

Short attention span today. Have you been to Iris’s blog recently? Her Moscow posts have been awesome.

And to Greta’s new pose to match her fabby new sweater, The Greta. I’m so going to do this on the next sweater. Remind me, okay?

https://rachaelherron.com/at_the_risk_of_/

I have just discovered the most amazing thing! Did you know your computer has a headphone jack? Really. There’s a good chance that it does. Of course, you, like everyone else, probably already knew that. I didn’t. But did you know that your iPod Shuffle’s earbud thingies fit into it? So that you can Party Shuffle yourself right off to Buffalo. Dude. This is great.

Had a good weekend doing the Travel Thing with Lala and the dogs. You think having a five pound dog attracts attention? Try carrying one that’s wearing an E-collar. One lady yesterday almost passed out, she was laughing so hard. Another woman came up and asked, "What happened?" I wanted to say defensively, "She’s just SMALL," before I realized she was referencing the collar, which I’d forgotten about.

Also: Lala brought her banjo, thinking she’d have some time to play with my dad, but instead the only real playing she did was at the wedding we attended. Gaynelle and Don had a bluegrass band and Dad encouraged her to come up and help. There they are in the back row:

Tell me I wasn’t all dang proud and all.

Man. I’m all distracted, listening to music.

I wrote twenty pages today! I’m exhausted. But good, brain-dead exhaustion.

There. I had to turn the music off. My brain has been too busy today, and listening to Hawksley Workman and blogging at the same time was confusing me.

New duds Tuesday!

Here’s a little something I made out of Wool-Ease, can you believe it? Like twenty bucks for the whole thing.

Pardon the hair, we’ve just cleaned the house. I added some hearts to the sleeve, since that’s where I’ve been wearing mine lately:

Ooh, almost forgot:
Specs:
Pattern: Retro Prep, Interweave Knits, Fall 2002
Yarn: Wool-Ease, pink and some kind of tan/gray, 3 skeins each (with some left over)
Needles: 5US, to gauge

And I wanted to show you my new shirt, from the Y(e)arn Store.

What, you think it’s tacky to wear a black bra with a white tank? Okay. It is. But you can rock it if you try. Oh, yeah.

(relaxing) Mwah!

Wah-HAH!

That’s a happy sound, iffen you didn’t know it. This is also a happy sound, said quickly and low: Wocka.

Know why I’m happy? Because I’m on VACATION! For seventeen days! Hoo boy! It’s actually a week off using both overtime and a lot of help from my coworkers, and then a week on vacay, but it adds up to a glorious carefree seventeen days OFF.

Did I mention off? Like, no work? I did? Oh. Okay.

So posting might be sparse ’round these here parts (Deadwood starts on Sunday, don’t forget — ooooh — I loved what the New Yorker said about the writer David Milch, how he shows a hell of a lot of darkness, knowing that just being able to see is the joy. Milch also sounds a little crazy, writing without ever touching a keyboard, hiring others to do that for him).

I’m going down south to Arroyo Grande this weekend for a wedding, taking m’girl and her dogs — we’re going to look at the ocean that runs along my hometown. And eat clam chowder. Sigh. Happy about that. After that, I really have no plans. I don’t have the money to go anywhere else, even though I spent a little time online researching Last Minute Deals To Italy. It is not to be. Perhaps I’ll just cook Italian. Or even better, I’ll just drink some Italian wine. And listen to Italian pop. Er somethin’.

Okay, I’ll admit, I do have one plan. And I’ll tell you about it, so perhaps I’ll shame myself into actually following through on it: I’m going to write. A lot. That’s all I’ll say. But I’m going to chain myself to a chair for a while. I will also catch up on my TiVo stash, while hopefully burning through some other stash at the same time (a retro-prep is almost done, and I’m hoping to perhaps design an aran cardie next). But I WILL write.

This is for our Cari: urban poppies on a city median, shot yesterday morning while I was stopped at a light at 7am, headed home, holding the cell phone/camera out the car window.

Look, they hadn’t even woken up all the way yet…. I love them when they’re like that.

Okey doke. I’m going to celebrate sloth. And write, yeah, yeah, whatever. But Laziness is the order of the day.

(Vacation) MWAH!

I just answered Mary and took too long to do it, so you get her answer, too. Now I’m missing Italy….

She asked:

Dear Rachael; I’ll be going to Tuscany for 7 nights(Montecatini) and
Rome
for 2 nights at the end of our tour.  I’m going with a tour group from
Pleasanton, Ca (near Oakland) and would like your idea on what to wear
so i
don’t look so touristi on our free days.  I consider myself a young 53.
What shouldn’t I wear as well, i already know shorts and white tennies
are
a no, but since i’m leaving on Nov. 2, 2005 that won’t be a part of my
luggage anyway.  I’m told by others that it will probably rain and be
on
the cold side. Are a nice pair of jeans appropriate?Thankyou for taking
the time to answer. 
Sincerely,
Mary

Oh, you lucky, lucky, LUCKY woman. And it’s a great question.

Go get yourself the darkest black pair of jeans you can find. Black like you can’t tell they’re jeans. They’ll fade later, after the trip, and you won’t care. Get a nice black water-resistant jacket, lined for warmth, with pockets inside and out for lots of stuff, but it should be sleek and shouldn’t LOOK like it has lots of pockets. I like it to fall to at least my thighs, and I like it to have a zip-off hidden hood. I have a great London Fog one that I got at Mervyn’s, I think…..

Then, get some V-neck black tees, three or four of them (you can wash clothes every night and hang them over the radiator which you WILL have in your room, and they’ll be dry by morning, even jeans — you can totally get away with bringing only three pair underwear and socks, three tee shirts (including the sleeping one), one dark wool sweater, one pair jeans, and two pair of shoes (one boot and one nice pair if you bring a skirt)). And when you get there, buy two or three different colors of those fake pashmina shawls that they sell in stands everywhere. Don’t pay more than 20euro. Wearing all black with a splash of color at the neck will make you fit in. Italians approach me all the time for directions while in Italy. Yay! That’s my favorite part…. Then I open my mouth, and the jig is up. Best to keep your mouth shut and run the other way. Then they’ll never know.

(Good black boots are great to wear — Mephisto or even Birkenstock has a wonderful black boot that is water-repellant.)

Also important in the Non-Identification is what you carry — I try to carry very little, except for bags holding things I’ve bought (the locals are holding those, too). If you hate ripping up books, buy two of your favorite travel guides, and when you get to a city, rip out the pages that you’ll need while there, and keep them in one of your pockets. Get a good digital camera (with LOADS of memory — most important part, expensive but worth it — I usually take enough memory to take about 100 pics/day at highest resolution) that will fit in another pocket. Reserve an inside pocket for your driver’s license and debit/credit card. Never ever use a different pocket. Yet another pocket should carry all your day money (easily obtained from any of the bajillion ATMs, just make sure you have a four digit passcode to get money out). Leave the passport at the hotel (the desk clerk may have asked to keep it for you, as they are allowed to do — don’t be scared, you’ll get it back). If you want to carry a journal, I like those small Moleskines and a tiny pen, which fit easily into another pocket.

There! Now the only thing that will identify you is your tour group! Leave ’em in the dust, says I. And go sit in a cafe and watch the people scurry past, drink Prosecco at noon, and dream.

Sigh. Don’t you want to go?