(*whew* I’m SO glad I’m done with the archetype shit… it looks like you guys are done with it too!)
Sunday, I went out to do the laundry, and Spaznado boy followed me. And that’s when he saw *IT*.
“Can I have that *BOX*?” (Can you hear the eyes the sizes of saucers in this question? I could!”
“Sure–have Dad come get it.”
“Daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy…can I have the box? Get the box get the box get the box… please? Please please please please?”
So Mate does–the clean, large box that the lawnmower came in was put in our kitchen, and it had barely hit the ground before the Cave Troll had made it his cave. Now, if you have ever watched the Spongebob episode called idiot box, this next line will have deeper meaning, but even if you don’t, it’ll crack you up.
As he’s settling down he has us close the top of the box and throw a blanket over it to block out all light. And it’s from this cozy little bolt-hole that we heard him say, “I-MAG-IN-AAAAAAAA-TION.”
And as an addendum to that story? I just went and tried to get a youtube clip for all of you so you could see this episode, and I discovered a disturbing trend. Now, some of you know (KNITTECH! GALAD!) that there’s an entire hobby devoted to making music videos from Supernatural–seriously, the amount of man-hours, talent, and dedication that goes into it is sort of staggering, and, I have to say that Knittech, Galad, and I are VERY grateful. I am a little disturbed by the offshoot of this art form, though–apparently, dubbing Spongebob cartoons with swearwords is a VERY hot item on youtube. It’s kind of creepy… I mean, even though we all know Spongebob and Patrick are “Fucking morons,” to hear Squidward SAY it? Just… sick and wrong, that’s all. Wrongsick. Totally. Nuff said.
So our weekend was mostly that box, really. Okay, I simplify. The weekend was the big box, a trip to the movies, and a trip to the park. And really? That’s all I wanted. I woke up this morning and thought “Omygod! I should have visited elderly relatives!” But in the meantime, I wrote 28 pages, got some knitting done, and cuddled with the kids. All in all, not bad–hopefully it took care of my end-of-the-year misanthropy well enough to keep me from killing something underaged that talks for the next three weeks–it’s a hope!
And some of you have noticed that I’ve rediscovered my Ravelry! I got a few pictures up and even two patterns–but not where the patterns SHOULD be, I’ve noticed. I LURVE Ravelry, but, seriously–it’s SOOOOOOOOOOOOO BIIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGG. Dauntingly big. Frighteningly big. Too big for me to surf, big. I’ll try to keep current, and I’ll even add a couple more of my back pictures and patterns, but believe you me, I’m MORE than aware that I’m a tadpole in a sunfish pond, when I’m on Ravelry.
That being said, I’m going to totally crunch on some sock yarn… Ty-Dy merino/nylon sock yarn. It’s probably 8 plied, (maybe 4) but it’s sort of crepe-y, and it does have a slight splitting problem, but.. mmm… the finished fabric? SCRUMPTIOUS. It’s like the Tirimasu of sock yarns… no shit nor shinola… i’ve got a real hard-on for this one almost (but not quite) as passionate as my lust for Cherry-Tree Hill or Schaeffer’s Anne. Maybe on-line with my shameless harlotry for Araucania’s Ranco… (wait… does this make my yarn taste promiscuous? Does it help that they’re all sock yarn? Nevermind… that just tells you I have a type and I indulge in it, doesn’t it?)
And speaking of being in love?
I’m reading the next Harry Dresden– Turn Coat, and, as always, I’m WILD about Harry-and about Thomas. If they spent more time together, I might even be in Sam & Dean land–but no, they broke my heart about four books back and Thomas moved out. Anyway, I’m enjoying myself–almost as good as summer started early. (But not quite. Nope. Not. Quite.)
Still–I’m fighting misanthropy off one indulgence at a time–I’ve started the fingerless mitts my TA requested–they’re from the book “Not Just Socks” by Sandi Rosner– I lurve her like a long lost cousin–and I think my Senior will like them. She’s been supremely awesome this year, and anything I can give her to make her happy when she graduates, well, I’m there.
But now, I’ve got a little of this and some more of that to do, so while I might be *there*, I’m not really here…