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Last minute, yes. But Bay Area bloggers (and, heck, knittin’ readers, too), you want to meet up this Saturday? JStrizzy, RedSilvia, and I are getting together for coffee/beer and snacks and maybe a little yarn shopping, and you’re more than welcome to come.

Details:
Saturday, April 10th
1pm
Temescal Cafe
4920 Telegraph,
just a few doors south of Article Pract, map HERE.

Do drop me a comment or email, though, so we know roughly how many chairs we should grab…..

Now that the business side is dealt with, let’s go straight to the whinging portion of the programme, yes? I told you I was in a window-shopping mood yesterday, right? I didn’t really mean it. What I meant was I was in a mood to BUY. I just didn’t want to say it. When I went to the antiques flea market, I wanted patio chairs. I wanted old trellises. I wanted old broken French doors to prop against the ivy and drape with outdoor lights.

What I found were things like this chair:

This was $65. Puh-leeze. I tried to look suave when told the prices, nodding, as if thinking “ahhh, of course the iron bedstead that’s rusted through is seven hundred dollars. I would have thought more!” Then I walked away from each seller, actually thinking, “Dude. He’s HIGH!”

So I left, and went predictably to the place where I thought the real junk would be. The flea market. Okay. When did the flea market stop selling crap? Let me re-phrase — when did it stop selling people’s old crap and start selling all new made-in-China hecho-a-Mexico shit? There’s always been that row or two out of thirty that sold the cheap electronics and hair barrettes and cowboy boots and pirated CDs. But now that stuff took up twenty-eight rows and I barely found the row and a half of real people selling their real junk. By then I was so disgruntled that I left with nothing but a bag of dried mango. Oh, and this photo for Alison:

Not sold by weight, no, but there must have been at least ten of these booths peppering the flea market, all bras selling for either 3 or 4 for $10. Damn! Now there’s a deal. I give credit to my girl La Brainy for having the balls (breasts?) to actually buy some of ‘em. They scared me. I snapped the pic and ran.

A poor shopping day. But a good photo day. This one is for Lisa:

And after all that whining about never being able to entertain, I entertained six people at my house last night. One was a pop-in, three were a call-and-drop-by, two were planned, and all were lovely. At one point there was an overlap of five, and it was truly fabulous to hear the chatter and realize we really all COULD fit in my new apartment. Dinner party, here I come!

The girls brought over dinner in this basket. I was rather embarrassed how quickly it was appropriated.

Oh, and I did buy two things yesterday. A cute purse at Marshall’s, and this round container next to the lamp.

Who knows what it was originally meant for, but I’m using it for straight needles. I actually never use straights (stop it), so they’re merely decoration, but such good decoration, don’tcha think?

And I’ll leave you with one of my most prized possessions. Seriously. I love this so much. My Pope-in-a-Globe.

Thought you might like this:

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/