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Rogue is an alehouse in Northbeach, the Italian section of San Francisco. I took BART over yesterday and met Brooke and some pals for the SF Oyster and Beer festival. Celtic music in the park, what could be better? Well, the problem was that EVERYONE thought that. I managed to grope my way to a beer, never got an oyster, found my breathless friends at the entrance, and we escaped, leaving the masses to sit in the cold sun. We found, instead, a table at Rogue and sat and drank and watched all the Boston-Irish transplants drink a LOT at the bar.

Then I caught a ride back to the East Bay with a friend who was going to the same impromptu dinner party that I was, and we had one of those charmed evenings where everyone is funny and sweet and the food tastes great. I have to hand it to my friend Jenn for throwing together a dinner party like that. I’ve said for the last seven years I might have a dinner party someday, and now that I have the room, I’m too nervous to do it. Oh, I hate throwing parties. Love going to them. Hate hosting them. Jenn, however, decided yesterday that it was a good day to have friends over. She bought chicken and steak and made some sides, called some folks, and people came over. How hard is that?

I still don’t want to do it. Maybe when I have mine I’ll have it catered (like I can afford THAT).

I’m rambly today, ain’t I? I just feel so much BETTER (but I’m not overdoing it, I swear. I’m being very careful) and it feels so wonderful to have almost my old reserve of energy back again. It’s overcast and chilly today, but I think I’ll hie me off to the monthly Antiques Fair in Alameda, a huge high-priced garage sale. I need some wrought iron chairs for the backyard, and I just feel like looking at trinkets. I’ve got the need to window shop. You know? And tonight I’ve got the girls coming over for The L Word and I’ll work on the new Vogue tank with which I’m in LOVE. You know the one?

I’m doing it in some plain ole Lion Brand Microspun, and it’s working up nicely, I have to admit. I have the back done, and I just started the front.

Off to weekend!

https://rachaelherron.com/thought_you_mig/

The apparel in which to march on Washington, or garden. Both things are good things to do. Props to Maureen for making up the store. All proceeds go to NARAL and MoveOn.org.

Now I gotta go march into the City. I hear there’s beer and oysters and Celtic music over in Northbeach, and I’m so there.

Dude! Go Knitty!

Knitty rocks for so many damn reasons. But this issue is way freakin’ above and beyond. I love like seventy-two of the patterns (okay, a slight exaggeration) and I want the child in Anouk. Forget the (cute) sweater, I just want to kiss those cheeks!

THANK YOU for the NoroCompliments! I’ve decided I won’t put it up on the shelf and let it languish like I do other sweaters – this one’s for wearing. It’s my new alterno-sweatshirt. Yeah.

It’s two in the morning, I’m at work, and my thoughts are jumbled. But have I mentioned you should go read the seven deadly cozies? Honestly can’t remember if I’ve pointed you there, but she’s fabulous — witty, a touch acerbic, and very clever. A new fave.

And hey, would y’all stop posting such funny things? It’s tiring to keep up with all the intelligence and humor out there. Dang. (That’s a complimentary complaint, of course. What I really mean is keep it up.)

So yesterday? I got off shift at nine in the morning, went home, and got in the tub. I’m lying there, happy with my tea and candles and New Yorker, contentedly listening to the kitties playing in the living room. After a good meal, they like to romp, and the noise they make is so cheering to me. I thought to myself, what sweet kitties I have. I’m so lucky.

When I got out of the tub and went into the living room, I discovered what they had been playing with.

A BUNCH OF GRAPES. I had left them in a bowl on my coffee table, hoping to prompt the healthy snacking I’m so poor at. Well! More proof that health food is a bad idea. Do you have any idea how much fun cats can have with grapes on a hardwood floor? I captured a lot of the errant squished drippy grapes, but I’m sure I’ll be finding raisins for months to come…..

Okey-dokey. Now awake after a pretty okay sleep. It was my first day sleep in the new house, and I’m SO pleased how vastly quiet it is. I still have to wear earplugs, since my cats are so tromp-ey around the house, but there was no noise underneath. Well, that was until the doorbell rang, leaving my shutterfly order. Why did I install a doorbell again?

I’m SO bad at sleeping. But today, I channeled Joanna, who is a Master Sleeper, by her own account. Seriously, I woke up every hour or so, and each time I woke, my brain threatened to wake UP. You know, the kind of brain noise that renders it impossible to ever get back to sleep (have to order some Manos Cotton Stria, I should go to Trader Joe’s before work, check to see if I have cash for that, oh and check the bank account to see if the rent’s gone through yet, I wonder what time Christy’s coming by for her bike). Every time I woke up, I hugged the pillow determinedly and thought, sleep like Joanna, sleep like Joanna. I willed myself to sleep today. And it worked pretty dang well. Thanks, J.

Here’s Noro Prep for you.

I’m actually wearing it right now. I was tired and wasn’t really thinking when I picked up the stitches for the neckline – that was the point at which I could have made the cardigan decision, but I missed my window of steek-ability and now have a pullover. I’m glad for it, too. It’s quite cozy and just the right size, and I love the neckline in this pattern. See?

That’s my manic “smile fast, you’re late for work” smile. Yipes.

Specs:
Pattern: Retro Prep, Interweave Knits, Fall 2002
Yarn: 9 balls Noro Kureyon 55 from the Threadbear Boys
Gauge: 24 st/4 inch
Needle size: 3US

My needle size is going to get me killed someday.

It’s 5am, and I just got off a 12 hour shift. Tonight’s shift is 9pm to 9am, so I can sleep ALL DAY, or at least give a good approximation of the same.

I finished the Noro Prep. But I’m too tired to download the photos, so you’ll have to wait. It’s cute, though.

I feel like a Whack-a-Mole test mole on a carnival fairway. Go read Alison. Bras by the pound, baybee.

Blah. I mean bra.

https://rachaelherron.com/its_5am_and_i_j/

I had a Very Good Shopping Day yesterday. I mean it. Please don’t hate me.

First of all, I got lots o’plants. Lots of ‘em. That’s what I like most about a convertible. Technically, it’s a car. But in reality, it’s an SUV, a Super Unique Vehicle. You pop that top down and you can haul tons of stuff around. Here’s the front of the car, taken with the camera phone. What you can’t see is the five bags of potting soil and four more boxes of flowers and veggies in the back.

Then I went to the East Bay Depot for Creative Reuse, an amazing repository of JUNK. I got a ton of old pots and an old wooden ironing board for my outside gardening table. I got some tiles and low tables for adding various heights to the plants (which I’m going to keep in pots until I commit to their placement).

But hold your breath. This is where the magic starts. The Depot always has some yarn in the back bins, crap piles of half balls of acrylic. You know the kind. Red Heart sticking to clumps of fifties mohair.

Yesterday I hit the jackpot. Here’s my bag:

And what was inside the bag:

That, people, is EIGHTEEN skeins of Crystal Palace Sierra in the softest wool ever, 95 yds/skein. I did an internet search on it, and the only stuff they make now called Sierra is undyed wool, so I think this was discontinued before the online yarn revolution. I can’t even find another reference to it. Anyone know it? Used it?

I also scored those two skeins of Scottish wool and that lovely green merino from Italy, Lana Borgosesia dal 1850 (okay, I really got it for the sheep graphic). Socks anyone?

This is where it gets CRAZY. I carried a couple of skeins up to the counter, heart beating fast, and asked how much. He shrugged and said, “Fifty cents each?”

Oh, lord.

I took my twenty-two skeins up and said emphatically, “I have twenty-two skeins. You said fifty cents each. That’s eleven dollars!” This was in case he had forgotten me from the minute before or couldn’t do the tricky math.

He shrugged again and I think he felt sorry for me. “We can call it ten.”

You know that look you get on your face when something really good has happened but you’re trying not to overreact? I almost ran out of the store, the bag clutched to my chest, fighting my face. It wanted SO much to beam, but I played it cool, man. Yeah. It wasn’t till I got to my car that I did the happy dance, punching the air, hopping a little. People walked WAY around me.

TEN DOLLARS for a lovely (someday) sweater and two pair of wool socks. I’m tellin’ you.

And you’re right, that was a little much for one day. So I rested for the rest of it, only tidying the yard a tiny bit and leaving all the potting for today. Tonight I go back to midnight shift, so I’ve got to take it pretty easy today, and make sure I get a nap in (I’m SO bad at naps).

Still beaming. Woot! as La Brainy would say.