Tuesday, April 05, 2011

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Hello, Goodbye

This seems to be a theme lately, at least I know I'm not the only one to pick up stakes and move over to other hosting sites. I've had this blog a long long time. I've outgrown the name, I've outgrown the idea and really, I'm just more than ready for a change... so off to Wordpress I go and I do hope you'll come along with me

Please update your Bloglines and other feeds to http://eightfoldrabbit.wordpress.com, and join me over at Honey and Ollie, I'd hate to lose you!

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Welcome Back to the PTA

Back when my kids were in elementary school, I was a busy PTA mom. I chaired committees, held Book Fairs, went to meetings, led a Brownie troop, coached soccer (two kids, two divisions, 4 years of hell) and did Little League.

And then the kids went to middle school and I stopped doing everything. Had a long bout of crippling depression. Spent a few years letting myself gently come back from that. Got separated from Mr. Yarnpirate. Went back to work. Didn't have any time.

So now we've come full circle. #2 Daughter's new school has a very active PTSA and involvement, while not mandatory, is strongly encouraged. And what the hell, right? I can pay my $10 annual fee and show up to a few meetings. While I was ponying up the annual fee, I noticed two words on the Student Interest packet. "Knitting Club" they read. Those two little words.

"Oh you have a knitting club?" I asked the parent volunteer.

"Actually, the parent advisor moved away at the end of last year. We need an advisor to run the club, I left it on the list because it was so popular I hoped someone would step up." she said.

That's when my hand shot up in the air and I began jumping up and down and squealing, "Oh! Oh! ME! MEMEMEMEMEMEME!!!" and doing the pee pee dance in the hallway.

I'm supposed to contact her in a few weeks, when things calm down, to set it up.

#2 Daughter is still not speaking to me. Because apparently NOTHING is worse than your mother jumping up and down and squealing "memememememe!" in the hallway on registration day, in front of everyone. Not even khaki is that bad.

So yeah. Welcome back to the PTA. I'm kind of excited. It feels good to be stepping up and back into that role. I'd missed it. I just hope that they don't make me wear khaki!

Also as an aside? Nothing is better than sending your ex husband a text that says, "By the way, you just joined the PTA." and getting back a panicked "I just did WHAT???" I suppose that eventually I should tell him that I wrote "Can not volunteer." next to his name on the membership roster.

Eventually.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

We drove to #2 Daughter's prospective high school this morning for what we thought was an early appointment with the registrar to attempt to register #2 Daughter for the upcoming school year, which starts next week. It was unsuccessful. We are going back tomorrow when the registrar will hopefully show up for work which she didn't do today.

We *did* get more paperwork to fill out, the student handbook and all manner of Very Important Information.

The new district has a uniform dress code policy. Khaki pants, white or black collared shirts (polo or button up), black, brown or white shoes (no heels), no fun socks, and only black, grey, khaki or green/gold sweaters (no hoodies).

This came as some surprise and the shock prompted some tears on the part of #2 Daughter who, like her mother, is a bit of a nonconformist. Once the tears passed, there was The Ranting.

"It's like, that movie. Jump back. Kevin Bacon. Oh my god. Do they allow music at this school? Dancing? I bet there's no dancing. And it's like that movie with that guy in front of the bank yelling 'Attica! Attica!'"

"It's a school uniform. It's not like you're going to be rattling a tin cup across the prison bars, dear."

"KHAKI PUTS BARS ACROSS YOUR HEART, MOM."


And so it went, at length, for several hours. I took her out for French toast and we went on a quest for khaki. Which was somewhat fruitless, however going online I discovered that Lands End had a couple of pieces. I did get her several cute white and black blouses at H&M, all in uniform code. But I am stuck for where to find really super cute junior sized uniform appropriate khaki bottoms. Gap was a total strikeout. Kids sizes abound, but junior sizes, not so much.

Why not black? Or grey? Why khaki???

"I'm spending the next FOUR YEARS in KHAKI, mom. I might not make it to NYU. I might DIE OF KHAKI."

"No one in the history of EVER has died of Khaki."

"Well I'm a TREND SETTER. Actually? No. What I am is a khaki covered loser who will never get a boyfriend because why? Oh yeah. KHAKI"

"That's okay dear. All the prospective boyfriends will be khaki covered losers too."


That's when she threw a sausage link at me and I decided I probably should stop talking. Unfortunately, because I was driving, I could not ask the waitress to pour a healthy slug of pre-khaki whiskey in my coffee. Shame.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Disgruntled

Not that I need it? Not that I'm particularly deprived? It's pure impulse and desire speaking here...

I am never going to ever get a skein of Wollmeise to knit up.

Just one little skein of Wollmeise, that's all I want. Please oh please shoppers at The Loopy Ewe, couldn't you just leave one little skein for me when stuffing your carts full of ginormous Wollmeise purchases? Pleeeease?

Hmph.

"Of a little,
take a little,
manners so to do.
Of a little,
leave a little,
that is manners too.


My grandmother used to say that. She was talking about Congo Bars, not yarn, but you know the principle is the same.

It truly is a case of sour grapes, because I'm just crabby over missing the update by like, an hour. It's not like I lack yarn. I am surviving just fine without Wollmeise. Maybe this is a life lesson in being happy in the face of lacking The Most Glorious Sock Yarn In THE WORLD, Ever, In The History Of Ever.

I could actually get some Wollmeise and maybe hate it after all that fussing. Somehow I doubt it, but I'm going to try to convince myself that it's possible.
There's been a change in the wind this year. Something in the water? I don't know. But it is a shift.

Blocky Pink Cardi

Getting things done. Not letting things languish. Finishing what I start. It's kind of nice and feels a lot like moving forward. Moving out of Culver City and up to the Fortress Of Solitude (aka Casa Fabulous) was a real kick in the pants. I registered for college, three weeks into the semester and I am doing well in my classes. I think I can. I know I can. I am. It's here. It's now. I started.

I signed up for yoga. I signed up for 8 weeks of bellydance. I decided I wanted to do and live and be rather than have a lot of plans and unfinished business, and then I went out and began to do.

I've struggled with crippling depression on and off for my whole life, and I don't know what's shifted in the last year, but I don't feel like I'm struggling quite so hard anymore. Maybe it's just that I've accepted certain limitations and so I don't spin my wheels in the deep soft sand now. I find the places where I can get traction, where I can move, and I focus there.

I still spend huge swaths of time alone, quiet, nurturing my need for down time. But I've learned that it is possible to get out and do, around those islands of solitude. In fact, it may even be that it is necessary to get out and do, to balance the quiet.

Loksins detail

Things seem more in focus. I feel pretty good. I think I'm actually pretty happy, though it's hard to quantify because it isn't a feeling I'm really used to. But I think that's what this is.

Callie Cardi start

It is a lot of work this being happy. It takes effort. I have to kick my own arse a lot of the time to get that stuff on the calendar, get in the car, get it done, to do. Maybe that's the point. Maybe that stuff isn't supposed to be easy and the point is to make it work anyway. I have no idea. I just know, it seems to be working.

It feels a lot less like trying not to fall off of a tightrope and a lot more like easily walking across something a little more substantial. Actual rocks under my feet. Stepping stones that stay where I put them. I don't want to get too cocky because that is when you fall down, and I don't want to fall down... but I feel like maybe, I won't fall down? If that makes sense.

Of course the beautiful thing about depression is, you don't trust it for a minute and you're always looking out for that thing that's going to knock you on your keister, right?

I'm trying not to go there. And just keep walking forward.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Things are heating up here in the San Gabriel Valley and I don't mean temperature. I mean, I'm getting BUSY.

There has been a lot of driving about, proving residency, getting permits and applying to our school of choice in the new district. We don't want to go to our home zoned school - the state took it over last year. If Gov. S can't make a budget, I don't want him in charge of my daughter's HS education. That is for the youngest. The oldest is going to homeschool her final year of high school, and take classes at the local junior college concurrently. Actually, because she has taken extra courses all along, and because she's met all but 4 senior requirements and passed her CAHSEE, she'll be graduating in December. Her second term at college in the spring will be her first term as a fully fledged college student, a full semester early.

Go girl!

I am really hoping she will parley this into admission as a junior at a local state uni and continue until she earns a BA, but she has some hare-brained plan to "travel the world!" after graduating with her AA degree in Graphic Arts, then move to Canada and finish her BA up there as a guest of the folks who brought you the Yarn Harlot.

I am also registered in college classes this fall. With any luck I'll be applying to nursing school in about 3 semesters, once I get a few math, chemistry and bio classes out of my way.

Anyone know a good algebra tutor in the SGV?

On Monday, one of the cats sprouted massive allergies, swelled up, got scabby, explosive in all the wrong ways, and had to be rushed to the vet. He is okay, though we're still not sure what he's allergic to. At $400, I will not be running the blood panel to find out. A shot of steroids, an overnight in the hospital, fluids and some special hypoallergenic food will hopefully help. Between Senor Scabbersons, the kitten and the other two cats all needing their own special snowflake food, breakfast time is exciting around here now.

And of course... knitting.

blocky cardi

The blocky pink baby cardi is coming along nicely. The other front panel is going to be a darker pink, with contrasting pockets and sleeve bands on each front panel to tie them together. The button band, neck and hem will all be that pale pink. I think it will be very modular and cute when it's done.

I am also really enjoying the Loksins! pattern. Lace socks are always a lot of fun and knit up so quickly.

Loksin

I am knitting this one up in Dream in Color Smooshy. The charted parts are extremely simple and fast. I got this pattern from a secret pal a few rounds back and am finally getting to enjoy the knit. A great on the go sock!

And now I'm off to help #1 Daughter get sorted for her college assessment tests, and then to go buy birthday presents for #2 Daughter, who turns 14 tomorrow and expects something wrapped in ribbons to commemorate the occasion.

Thursday, August 07, 2008

EZ FAIL

There are times when you look at something you've been knitting and it is so lopsided, so wrong, so completely NOT the way it obviously was intended to look, that you can only mutter something dire under your breath and rip it off the needles.

RIP, Baby Surprise Jacket. We'll try it again when I am not quite so full of EPIC FAIL.

Hello Baby Garter Stitch Cardi from Erika Knight's Cherished Babies book... you are my old friend! Please assuage my ego and heal the wound inflicted by Baby Surprise!