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Let’s photoblog, since I have time to do nothing else. And please, forgive my absence from these pages for a while, since I have SO MUCH TO DO in the next week. But I knew you needed JUST a little more, so here are some shots from yesterday, the day Lala and took possession of OUR HOUSE.

(Hang on. I’d like to say it again, please. Our House. Ourhouse. OURHOUSE. The house that is ours. Day-um. I’m fanning myself.)

Anyway. My little mama was adorable and said that she really, truly wanted to drive up from the Central Coast (a four-hour drive at 65mph that, for them, always turns into an exhausting nineteen-eleventy hours in the car) to see the house in its bare-bones ain’t-nothing-in-here state. And bless her, she was right. It was like breaking a bottle of champagne over its bow, only without the wasted alcohol. Mom and Dad and my sisters and practically-related-Becky and Lala’s brother and sister-in-law came, too, and the almost the whole dang family was there to wish us well in our new home. It felt just right.

No, I’m photoblogging! Sorry, I forgot.

Here you go:

I think I have about nine different favorite spots, but this is from the glassed-in front porch. What a place for wicker furniture and a basket of sock-yarn, huh?

Coming in from the sunporch, that’ll be my writing/knitting room. That’s the wool room. Hooo boy.

Turn to the left, and that’s a little dog in a big room. You can see the hallway that leads to the bathroom and the other two bedrooms (ours in the back, Lala’s in the middle).

I love this one. (She has a can of 7-Up in her hand that we found in the fridge. She held it out and dubbed it the most expensive can of 7-Up we’d ever bought.)

I can’t stand the pink. Really. HATE it. It’s more mauve and it gives me a headache, even though everyone else seems to really like it (including Lala, and it’s kind of her to humor me in this). We’re going to do yellow instead. Yay!

Oh, yeah.

Kitchen. Laundry-space (vacant now) to the right.

Back yard! New deck! Can’t you see a hot-tub? And my other fave place is down there at the bottom of the yard — that gate opens and there’s another little fenced in area, overlooking the creek. A secret garden. We’ll have another little table down there and a place to write and drink coffee. Oh, oh, oh.

Harriet is well chuffed.

Red walls. Heck, yeah.

Well, hello there!

The ‘rents out front. I love how the little mama dressed to match the house.

Hangin’ on the stoop.

All of us. I love this one, too.

House! Our house! Hoooooooray! Thanks again for the well-wishes, you darlings, you. Now, to pack and then unpack. Wish us luck. See you in about a week!

We have keys.

Know what that means? We have a HOUSE. A real, house-house. Seriously, words can’t even start to say how we feel. And Lala liked it! Loved it! She hadn’t seen the inside until this morning, trusting that I’d made a good choice (oh, the pressure). We actually don’t take possession until tomorrow at noon, and the ex-owners (that means we’re the new ones!) were there, the house full of boxes and furniture. But even picking around all that, Lala loved it. Hooooray! Can you IMAGINE if she hadn’t? She would have, even if it were a dump, but it’s not, and she’s thrilled, and I’m over the moon. (She actually said the other day that she couldn’t be happier if she won the lottery. I said that was silly, because then she could buy a house. She said, yes, after she bought a house with the lottery, THEN she’d be the same level of happy as she was with buying our house. I love that.)

Now I must pack. I am SO behind, and I have about half of a day to get the rest of the condo packed. Movers don’t come until a week from today, but I’m working, and I want us to paint a bit before the move, and the ‘rents are coming tomorrow to see the empty house, and and and and. All good stress! Day-um.

We have a HOUSE! Oy. Joy. I am overklempt.

Also, we have a dog the size of a coffee-cup:

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!
Thank you, for all your crossed fingers and dpns. Thanks, with all our hearts. More pics to come, as the movin’-in continues…..

I’ve had the fuckin’ hiccups for the last hour. I hate the hiccups. I hiccup big, and I can’t talk while I’m hiccupping because I make the BIG noises when I do. Luckily, I don’t have to talk right now. But they last a day or two, off and on, when I get them, about twice a year.

OHMIGOD. They just stopped.

This is after:

*drinking water upside down over the sink

*a spoonful of sugar

*two matches dropped in water, water sipped
(I made big waitress tips off that one, back in the day)

The winning method:

*Mom’s tried and true fingertips-to-fingertips over the head, breath-held trick. Trust the little mama.

What’s your trick?

I keep wanting to post, but it’s been so crazy and busy and all o’that good stuff. I’m feeling a little off today — not sure if it’s a cold or allergies, but feeling funny. So I’m going to bed early and I’m going to sleep.

But first I have to send you over to take a listen to the Shut-Ins. They’re the band we’re having for the wedding, because Lala said she wanted them and that’s good enough for me. I know one of the lead singers, Mike Roper, and I adore him, but I’d never heard them until the other night, when I realized we’re going to have a PARTY with them there. They freakin’ rocked. I loved them. Hulabilly, baby. Whoreshoe-Joni actually called Lala that afternoon and said she had tickets to the Violent Femmes, did Lala want to go? Lala said that we were going to hear the Shut-Ins, and Joni said, "The SHUT-INS?! Oh, that’s where *I’M* going." And she did. They’re that great. Go listen. Enjoy.

Dude, dude, dude.
DUDE!

We signed the loan docs. The next thing on the list to do with the realtor is meet her there next Friday (or Saturday, depending on the sellers) and get the keys. Things could still go wrong (why do I find the need to remind myself of that?), but the chances of them going wrong are very slim now. It would basically be the sellers backing out that could kill escrow, and since they’re all packed up (we’ve been peeking), I doubt that will happen. Oh, please, let us have the house that we’re in love with……

Ohmigod ohmigod, I think we’re really gonna move. I would be out-of-this-world excited to be moving in with Lala, period. But to be moving into Our House, it’s like nothing I can describe. A good way to start a life together, eh?

But that means I have to pack. I started that last night. I started, as you would, with the yarn because 1) it takes up the most room and is therefore the most visually significant and 2) it’s the most fun to pack. Of course, when that fun is over, as it is, then you have to get down to the crap packing, which I do. Sigh.

Also, I thought I had less yarn. Quit laughing. I haven’t bought yarn (in excess) in a long time. Really. And I’ve been using stash! Why do I still have so much?

    Stash-face

Stash:

    Cat in foreground for scale

    Guitar for scale. That’s a BIG bin.

Also yesterday, after we signed and then went and took that official photo seen above, we got sushi to celebrate. AND we went to the Big Longs at 51st and Broadway and found the food of the gods (Cheryl pointed me there, and god, do I love her for it).

Oh, yes. They’re here. It was SUCH A GOOD DAY.

Hi. My name is Rachael. And I’m a plain ole sock-knitter.

I do mean plain ole. For the life of me, I can’t knit a fancy sock. I can knit a fancy sweater, sure. Bring it on. But socks? It’s like time stops and I all I feel is annoyance.

I bought Nancy Bush’s gorgeous Knitting Vintage Socks. Started one of them, got from the top to the heel and just wanted to spit. Put it away.

But I love the IDEA. I don’t think I’d ever understood it before, but then I got the BEST pair of socks in a swap from Siow Chin and I got it.

(Sorry for the crap photo — this is the best I could do in the bathroom light — they only looked good against the laundry, and I’m tired of waiting until they’re clean and dry to photograph, since I always seem to wearing, washing, or drying them.)

Lacy socks are the best. They make your feet feel sexy, even without a pedicure. I love love love them. (Pattern is from the same book, btw.)

So I knew I needed to make some, even after I’d gotten mightily tired of knitting the vintage pattern. Too wide. Too long. Too much lace already! I decided to switch it up. I took some koigu, cast on with my regular toe, added a stitch pattern from Barbara Walker, just across the top, made my reg’lar short-row heel, and continued up with the lace, now going all the way around. Couldn’t be easier!

Or more irritating. Gah.

I think I’m just a knitter that likes having to look down as little as possible, since I’m always doing something WHILE I’m knitting, and lace socks are fiddly. Fiddlesticks. At least with cables you have great long rows of NOTHING going on, and only have to glance occasionally. I was ready to throw these socks away (really) until a friend mentioned that I should make ankle-socks. Oh, bless her.

Cute! And done! One more sock to make, but it’s already half-way to the heel, just this afternoon. Oh, yeah. This is more like it. Fickle me. (And I’ve finished making the yarn for the rest of the handspun sweater, but it just won’t dry in this damp air. Almost there.)

There. Aren’t you proud of me? A whole post about KNITTING? Can I be excused for the rest of the month?

Now. How beautiful is my future sister-in-law Won-Ju? (Go see her new art (including cards!) — it’ll knock you out.)

(Yes, I know the shawl is lace. It’s bigger. Different. Right?)

    PS – Hello, New Zealand reader! Isn’t that counter on the right cool? Somehow now I feel like people are popping by to say hello….. Would you like some coffee? Tea? A cocktail?