Out with the old

I am heading to O!town tomorrow and will be away from the blog until Monday.

Hopefully, my car will not catch fire on the way to or from the shindig. (This is actually a slightly probable even — my dad suggested bringing a fire extinguisher along for the ride.)

Hope you find a fun way to celebrate the new year!

Suddenly it's 9:40 and I don't want to go to work

I forgot to mention last night that I got a new toy which, unlike Kas' new Digital Elph, takes crap photos. Of course, it's a keychain camera and $15 one at that, so I wasn't expecting works of art. I got it on a lark, and thought I'd share some of the least bad photos. (I really do like the little thing. It's funny.)


Slartibartfast, the baby.


Captain Jack Sparrow, in my very own room.


Demetrios, as his usual "Hey, I was sleeping here" self.


You see now why I need a Kitty Pi? Demetrios spends roughly 99.999% of the day napping. Okay, not quite so much. But seriously. I know that cats tend to sleep a lot, but I may have to get him checked out for narcolepsy. He will pass out anywhere.

And yes, Sister Berthe, we really did get a chinchilla. Brown and white and named Chi Chi! Curious that neither of us, with our new toys, have been able to catch him at play ...

Kitty Pi-rate! and other such nonsense

On Monday my family received a visit from the Christmas Pirate, who had a large bag of booty slung over her shoulder. Okay, fine. That was me. I thought it would be fitting to break out theDepp-wear again, since I knew I'd be getting some piratey gifts — giant cardboard Johnny Depp (Be jealous. Be very very jealous.), my very own copy of POTC2 and a Davey Jones' key keychain. There were pictures that were taken, by the by, but of course they're on my mom's camera, so it will be a while before they see daylight again.

I managed to finish almost all of my holiday knitting; the only thing I didn't finish was the pair of glittens for my dad, but I knew they wouldn't be finished. I'm not that quick a knitter. I did promise my brother a new Jayne hat, though, since he got theoversized monstrosity. We'll just give the huge one to their friend, my honorary third brother. (He's at my family's house so often that my mom's begun referring to him as her third son.)

Speaking of knitting (as if I'm ever not speaking of knitting), I decided earlier this evening that my cats need a cat bed. I started on Wendy's Kitty Pi cat bed tonight with some left over Lopi, in a variegated brown and a cream. I hope the cream color decides to felt, though if it doesn't, it will just act as edging.

In bloggy news, both of my roommates decided to start blogs. I Work In A Cube is Kas' blog (whose alias I mispelled last week, sorry). Tarnished Border Collies is Sister Berthe's.

Time to call it a night. I've got a new book to read — Seven Touches of Music by Zoran Zivkovic. I'm through four of the stories thus far.


Whoa. I just watched Alton Brown make sushi. He is a god.

'Twas the Knit Before GIftmas

I was reading through my Bloglines subscriptions this morning and came upon two or three versions of "The Night Before Christmas", knitta style. My favorite, though, was the original by Purl Needlemeyer of Knit and Plenty. I'd like to share it with you.

The Knit Before Christmas

Twas the Knit before Christmas and all over the room,
unfinished projects were everywhere, strewn.
The stockings weren't hung; they didn't have toes,
and the wrap in my lap needed sixty more rows.

The children's new mittens would never been done.
They looked more like wristwarmers sporting thumbs.

Dad's fisherman's knit had a large gaping hole.
My sister's striped ski hat could fit a large bowl.

I forgot to put fringe on my mother's new shawl.
And my husband's socks lay in a magic loop ball.
The backpack I felted would have to be sewn,
since it shrunk in the wash and might fit my phone.

I started to panic, but then I decided,
"I'll just give them cash, they'll all be delighted."

But then I remembered I had not a cent.
I'd spent it on yarn, leaving not even rent.

Tears welled in my eyes as I put down my needle
and curled on my side in a position quite fetal.

Then, out on the lawn, I heard such commotion
that I ran with my scissors and dropped every notion.

Away to the window I flew in a flash,
knocked over my basket and tripped on my stash.

The moon on the snow gave me a start,
caused it looked like a pompom that had fallen apart.

When what did I see that made me feel loco,
but a little old man with a beard of Berroco.

He was dressed all in mohair, or maybe a blend,
with a stockinette scarf that just wouldn't end.

His sweater was Fair Isle, he looked like a rogue.
The pattern so detailed - it must be from Vogue.

He spoke not a word but went straight for a stocking.
Then he grabbed for the purses that all needed blocking.

More rapid then Addi's the projects they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name.

Now Capelet - Now Afghan - Now Leggings - Now Rug.
On Poncho, On Dickie, on Earmuffs - on Shrug.

To the top of a crewneck, he added a cowl.
From a lightweight chenille, he knitted a towel.

I watched in amazement as he dropped and yarned-over
to crank out a coat and some booties for Rover.

From a fingerweight silk he knitted a glove.
As he purled all around me, I thought it was love.

He fixed every stitch without one single rip.
In the wink of an eye, there was nary a WIP.

I thanked him profusely. He kindly accepted.
My last minute elf was hardly expected.

As he started to leave, I grabbed for a skein.
And he turned back around and he said, "You're insane."

"But my projects are finished, you made them all better,"
I replied, with a wink, "I'll just start a sweater."

He ran from my sight, on his sleigh off he flew.

Now, Merry Christmas to All. I've got to knitting to do.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some WIPs to turn into FOs. (Also, I didn't get past yesterday's six degrees experiment due to an emergency shopping trip with my mom. Today I'm watching both Wonka movies, first the Gene Wilder classic, which is almost done, and then Johnny and Deep Roy.)

Six degrees of separation

In my push to finish up the holiday knits before going down the street to visit with the family, I seem to be playing a game with the DVD player.

It all started with The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and Martin Freeman playing the dorky-yet-loveable Arthur Dent. Martin then hopped movies to play John, the porn star in Love Actually. Also, Alan Rickman played Marvin the manically depressed robot in Hitchhiker and was married to Emma Thompson in Love Actually. I'm thinking that I have two routes of travel from here.

I can follow Emma Thompson to the title role in Nanny McPhee and jump to the Harry Potter movies from there, beginning with Azkaban. That would occupy the rest of the night.

Or I can track Keira Knightley to Pirates of the Caribbean, but only the first as I haven't opened my presents yet. (Had I been able to do so, I could go with Bill Nighy and "I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes, Christmas is all around us, and so the feeling goes" to POTC2 and Davy Jones.) That of course takes me directly to Johnny Depp (do not pass go, do not collect $200) and Captain Jack Sparrow.

Obviously this is the route I'm leaning towards.

Johnny will then lead me to either Corpse Bride or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, where I can catch Helena Bonham Carter in either. I can go from either of those to Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith with Christopher Lee, then watch the other two episodes of that.

I can't really think any harder than that. I was trying to find ways to connect to either Catherine O'Hara or Jennifer Coolidge, because they're funny gals, but I don't really care to think that hard at this moment.

Actually, I think I'll go the Nanny McPhee route. I like that movie. Maybe I'll jump to Lemony Snicket, if it's still On Demand. Then I can catch the aforementioned funny gals.

Oy.

Little Shop of Knitties

Looks like we made it through to beta-land. I think everything looks okay-ish, so I'll go with this until I hate it.

I've managed to finish one of the Jayne hats — it is officially ginormous. So much so that I am thinking of stuffing it and sewing it shut to use as an odd throw pillow. Really, it's that big. If I pull the top all the way down to the top of my head, I look like that one guy from Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids. Seriously.

I started another Calorimetry, this time in Lion Wool Prints. I don't know what colorway it is because the cat is sleeping on it. It's going to have mini-cables, too.

And now that I've confessed my love of Rick Moranis in Little Shop of Horrors in the Knittyboard Chat, I ought to hit the hay. (Oh, it just started raining again.)