It's like the yarn knows what it's supposed to do.

 The pretty yarn, before its ravishment.

I've been working on my infinity cowl scarfie thing, trying to get it out of my pile of "in progress" projects (which is getting beyond absurd; I've got a backpack full of them, plus a big blue bag and some in the stashtainer.) I finally managed to get to the end of the first skein (yes, it took forever) and was ready to tie the second one on when I realized I had a problem.

See, the yarn is self-striping (I was giddy with joy about the fact that I manage to pick a number of stitches that gave me near perfect stripes until I realized the runs are long enough and end vaguely enough -- the colors blending into one another -- that it would always stripe in one width or another. Dur.) I ended on a stripe of a particular color, and the internal yarn tail was at the other end of the color repeats. Ooopsie.

So I bethought a solution to this issue which involved a pair of scissors and the shortening of my scarf. And then I had another Homer Simpson "D'Oh!" moment when I realized the yarn has two ends. And the second end might or might not be the same. I pulled it off the outside of the skein and lo, it was just the color I needed, followed by the color I needed after that.

I was pleased.

Can you tell where I merged the two yarns?

It's there, I promise.


I can see it, but then I know the secret of where it is.

Oh, I give in, here you go:

That thin black stripe there at the end.


And now, thanks to the first skein, I know I'm a quarter of the way through the second skein. I want to do another circuit of the colors tonight so I'm halfway through the skein. I'd really love to have this puppy off the needles before I start up the day job on Wednesday. Partly so I can wear it, partly so I can have a brand new project to take to work on Thursday (I'm thinking Wednesday will be too busy, alas).

Even better? The second skein will end with that light turquoise blue color. My cast on is a single row of that color. Yes, you'll be able to see the seam, but the colors will match.

It's like Red Heart knew exactly what the yarn was supposed to do for me!

My first blizzard!

I grew up down south, an inch or two of snow was big news. Then we moved up to the midwest, and maybe 6 inches was a big deal (we're not near the Great Lakes, or that far north, we have far more moderate winter weather than most people expect). But right now, we're getting up to a foot of snow! And the wind is blowing! What does that spell?

BLIZZARD!!!

I've never been through a blizzard before, and so far it's pretty dull. I mean, I'm in the house, it's fairly warm (ish, my patio isn't the coziest place on earth) and I've got access to food and fresh water, so...yeah. It's just a lot of snow coming down really fast and blowing around.

It sucks, but sucks about on a par with all the other types of snow. Of which I am not fond.

Oooh, speaking of snow, saw the Doctor Who Christmas special last night. It was weird and creepy and altogether too much fun for a girl to have on a dark Christmas night, and it gives you a new suspicion to have about snow. As if I didn't have enough problems with it before!

At least I've got a metric ton of yarn and projects to work on to keep myself busy today. I've been working on my Birthday Cowl of late:

I seriously love how those stripes are panning out. I couldn't have done that better if I'd planned it, could I?

Plus I've got my never ending Shawl of Green (the ruffle is taking forever, but not using as much yarn as everyone told me it would). I'm pretty sure I'll have it ready for next winter. Le sigh.

And I'm also thinking about doing another attempt at a more successful destash effort in the new year. I've been going through my stash, finding pretty yarns and trying to match them up with projects. So far I've got several stash items (which may include more than one skein of the same yarn) reserved for projects covering blankets to shrugs to scarves. If I ever bestir myself to finish up my sweater, that kills a lot more stash, too. My goal is to rid myself of at least one of the auxilliary stashtainers, with an ultimate goal of whittling down the stash to fit in my Cedary Stashtainer of Yarny Goodness within two years.

Hey, I gotta give myself time; I'm not the fastest knitter in the world. Although with the advent of the new job in the new year, that might change -- I've got nothing but knitting time during the days. Pray for my wrists.

So I'm planning my destash projects out as well as knitting on my cowl.

And if all else fails, I've got my Christmas swag to enjoy:

I lost a Twizzle!

I lost one of my twizzles! I went to The Nieceling's band concert (she had a piccolo solo! W00t!), and dropped it in the auditorium.

Oh, well. Not my favorite color, and I'll consider it an offering to the knitting gods. Or something.

And I did not take knitting to The Phew's concert, two days later. He did not have a solo, but he was one of two in the percussion section who played every piece -- the others got rotated out as the music demanded. I'm so proud of them both for their musical achievements.

In other news, less than a full week before The Hobbit is in theaters. I can go at midnight, if I want. That was in doubt, you see.

I interviewed a few weeks ago for a FT job. At the place I've been temping? The one that lets me knit at the desk and read and stuff like that when I'm not busy with my duties? They were talking about hiring someone to be there a few weeks before the calendar change (when the woman who has the job now is retiring) so the new hire would have time to sit with her and learn the ropes. So I didn't want to buy a ticket to a midnight showing of The Hobbit because what if they hired me? I'd maybe be working by then, and a midnight showing of a 2 1/2 hour movie and an 8 o'clock start time at work don't mix. Not even a little bit.

So I waited two weeks to hear back, thinking this place would be one that would call me if I didn't get the job -- they're good like that, very respectful of others, and letting someone know they can stop waiting for a call is only polite, yes? They didn't call and they didn't call, so I called, and lo and behold they had been going to call me that same day to offer me the job. Then they sent me an offer letter, a thing with which I am unfamiliar. I signed and sent it back, though, as I'm told is the custom. It's more common in educational circles than in the ones I've been swirling around in, and sort of cool. Don't worry, I'm smart enough about USPS to have made a copy for just in case.

But I don't start until January. I guess they think I know what I'm doing well enough to let me start after herself moves on to sleeping in. Or whatever she has plans to do, I'm not sure.

So, I've got a new job, I still get to see The Hobbit at midnight, and I lost a Twizzle. Life is weird, but sorta ok right now, you know?

Tiny bubbles....

I did not, surprise, surprise, finish my NaNo novel this year. Shocker, yes, I know. But I still drank my prosecco.

It's tasty, I'll give it that. I don't generally drink dry wines, but pretty much by definition, if it's carbonated, it's dry. I'm not wild about it on that point, but it wasn't too dry. Nice and, for the most part, balanced.

I was fairly surprised, however, by the length of the buzz. I've gotten buzzier on other wines, but this is hanging on like you would not believe. My liver is fairly efficient, dealing with most alcohol fairly quickly (under a half hour in most cases), but apparently the tiny bubbles have stymied my poor liver and the buzz is hanging on, 45 minutes in. The mild fog is clearing now and my muscles are tensing up into their standard positions, but it was a bit unnerving. I don't usually get so blotto on two glasses of wine alone.

In knitting news, I'm not done with the whirly-gigs yet. I'd love to be (they're driving me a bit nuts), but I've got half the yarn left to go. I was hoping to get some major knitting done tomorrow, and maybe take a walk (since the weather is allegedly going to be agreeable in great degree), but we'll have to see. There are cookies to be baked, and my mother may yet have more shopping to do.

Sigh. I used to love shopping, but now it's become a great chore. I'm not sure if this is a good sign or a bad one!