Never Stick Your Hook Where It Shouldn't Go

So, here I am on Saturday evening on AMF’s living room floor with all of my motifs laid out. I’ve got this great pattern thing going on, I’m liking how the burgundy motifs aren’t taking over the entire project color-wise, I’ve written down the pattern changes and hey, I’ve even taken pictures of it!

Just in case I forget, you know.

See, my memory is composed of very odd bits and the like all strung together, and I only remember certain things.

I can tell you when and where the late-but-great Donny Hathaway recorded the ultimate live version of “In The Ghetto” (1973, in Japan, recorded for a British release and available as an import), or how to solve algebra, geometry and certain calculus problems.

So, here I am with two motifs laid out on my living room table. I’m ready, I really am! I’ve got the t-pins ready, I’ve found the perfect complementary yarn that’ll work for the sewing and the border stitching, I’ve lined up the two motifs and all I need to do is just connect the seams, stitch to stitch, and I’ll be golden!

Right?

Wrong!

Where the bloody hell does this go? Does it go here or there? Where do I insert the t-pin, and why isn’t this lining up correctly? Oh, wait…if I do this…I got it!

And then, I attached the third motif…and realized that I was picking up the wrong stitch during the sewing, and then I looked back and saw that all I did the first time was, well, wrong, too.

Rip, rip, rip.

Oh, well…tomorrow’s another day and another chance to learn.

I've Always Loved a "Wawa"!

For those of you who don’t live in the southern area of New Jersey near Philadelphia, you won’t understand what the significance of a local “Wawa” means.

See, it’s not a “Quick Chek”, or even a 7-11 with much better coffee.

Your local “Wa” is a much beloved regional stop for milk, newspapers, hoagies (Philadelphian for “subs”), the best coffee in the world and pretty much anything else that you might need…it’s truly “one-stop-shopping”.

And, if you’re lucky enough to fine a “Wa” with a gas station…you’re also going to find some amazing gas prices, too.

I love a “Wa”…always have. They’re always clean and friendly…

And, then today, it wasn’t all about the “Wa”…’tis all about the people that were staffing it as well as the people that were there who made me stop and think.

So, I’m at this “Wa” that I always stop by on my way back from AMF’s place in Oaklyn down in Runnemede. It’s a sort of low middle-income area right outside of Camden and Philadelphia in a mixed residential area, and this African-American gentleman walked in to get some coffee.

I’ve seen this before…all of the “white folk” drew back (I don’t know why), and he was right behind me, asking for directions to the “Franklin Museum”.

Well, that would be the “Franklin Institute”, so I helped him out.

I was the only person in the Wa who was willing to give him directions, and I still don’t know why.

“Thank you so much! Can you write them down for me?” Sure, just let me find a napkin and ask for a pen at the counter.

Ladies and gentlemen, the last time I checked the year, it was 2006…and, do you know…everyone avoided us? I mean, walked “around us”? The 41 year old white girl in the “Eagles” hoodie and the 50-something African-American with the wild hair?

“Here you go! Oh, and don’t forget…the Philadelphia Marathon was run earlier this morning, so that area around the Institute’s going to be a mess.”

“Thank you so much!”
Cheers, mate…have a great time.

A Crafter's Idea Of Fun!

<< Well, since there’s nothing that I like more than following the crowd, I’d like to announce that I’ll be creating an exploratory committee myself so that I can run for “Crafter-In-Chief”!

I know, I know…I don’t have enough experience, but I feel your pain…really, I do!

I understand how painful it is to crochet a motif only to find out that you’ve added an extra double crochet, which will not become part of your work, but just may become a perfectly crafted coaster!

Consider variety yarns, my friends!

And, if you’re just learning how to knit, once again, I feel your pain!

We’ve been told for years that knitting should become second nature to all of us, and that crocheting is the “poor sisters’” craft. No longer, my fellow crafters, no longer!

I’ll make sure that crochet is in the forefront of all of us crafters, so that I can enlighten us all.

Thank you for all of your support…oh, and you? You really need to drop those huge knitting needles…as well as those tapestry needles…oh, no! Don’t do that! They only work in embroidery! Stop that…now! Those women are from the “Origami Coalition”, and…stop that, now! Don’t destroy their folding paper!

Okay, enough…I’ve just found a bunch of seed beads in my wine, and all of you need to stop, right now!

Enough, everyone…we all need to calm down, and “take a powder” and relax a bit.

There’s an open bar over to your left, and dinner will be served soon. Please enjoy both, and we'll talk tomorrow.

I hope. >>

About "Crafting"

The active verb “crafting” now seems to embrace the entire world of knitting and crocheting, scrapbooking, sewing, working needlework with beads so infinitesimally tiny that I’d need another pair of glasses to see the pattern correctly.

However, I’m on the verge of completing my first project…it’s a “cat blanket”, and guess what…I’m about done with those crocheted motifs, and now I get to learn how to put them together, and do a nice edge to make it look really cool.

I’m a “crafter-in-progress”, I guess. My first inclination would be to sew all of my motifs together with a tapestry needle, but I think I’m going to try the single crochet method instead, just to learn that skill.

Which would give me “Crafter Creds”, yo! ;)

And, then I’ll have to get back to my original project…that giant Queen sized-bed afghan that I’m making for my boyfriend with "Koigu"...handpainted superwashed merino wool.

It’s the same motif, it’s just smaller work with a tinier hook, but that’s all good.

Anyway, while I’m working on putting my cat blanket together, I’ll be taking pictures, and posting the results here, so keep a look out if you’re another “crafter-in-progress”!

I know I’m going to make mistakes, but that’s half the fun of creating something.

Well, now that the whole holiday season is upon us, we’re all being bombarded by media chefs who all want to show us how to cook, LOL!

And, when I think, “Well, show me how to do this!”, I’m talking about true cooks…people who know their way around a chef’s knife, who take the time and the effort to search out the best seasonal ingredients, know what to do with them, and take the time to educate us on what a wonderful meal should be.

I’m talking about Mario Batali, Emeril (love him or hate him, he’s one of the best), Sara Moulton, Tyler Florence, Ming Tsai, Ina Garten, Martin Yan and even Alton Brown.

Why? Because they’re all about working with great, fresh ingredients…the mark of a good cook is the ability to make a great meal out of all of the ingredients you already have on hand.

But, they’ve got to be the best, and this makes sense. Mario’s going to tell you to get the best cheese and pasta in the world, both Sara and Ina are big on fresh produce and bread, and I’m with both Ming and Martin when it comes to shopping in Asian markets and in Philadelphia’s Chinatown when I’m looking for Asian ingredients.

What I cannot stomach are these “wanna be” cooks, like Rachael Ray and that Sarah person who does “Semi-Homemade”, since these women don’t cook.

Do I take shortcuts? Of course I do…we all do, LOL!

But, would I buy a package of frozen chopped onions or a jar of minced garlic instead of chopping an onion or mincing some garlic myself? Of course not...that has to be fresh, you know.

Okay, toss these two silly "so-called" cooks out of the window, and think about what you can buy and cook now...think about what you can make in advance and freeze for the holidays (think about cookies and desserts, and breads and breakfast cinnamon rolls, and casseroles).

Buy the best stuff that you can possibly can, and "make it work" as Tim Gunn would say!

And...let's get started again!

So...I'm back, and blogging and better than ever!

I think.

'Tis been a tough couple of months...I've always said that I'd never blog about my family, but let's just say that we've been put through the mill for the past month or so, and everyone is fine, thank you very much.

And, what started as a "vacation" way back in August has now turned into a "full assault" job search. More about that tomorrow.

I've also turned into a crafter, so I'll be posting pictures as I move along with my crochet projects and picking up those knitting needles!

Has anyone found my crochet hook?

Let’s see…

A couple of months ago, I decided to crochet a blanket for my boyfriend’s queen-sized bed. I found a terrific pattern that wasn’t so much about “traditional squares” or colors, but incorporated incredibly bright colors into this blanket.

However, the yarn that was suggested is…well, quite pricey. Three skeins cost thirty dollars, and believe me, there’s nothing like “Koigu” hand-dipped coloured yarn.

So, I’ve been buying yarn at the usual suspects like “JoAnn’s” or “Michael’s”.

You know, the stuff that won’t need to be dry cleaned!

I haven’t crocheted in years, but all of this is coming back to me.

It’s a great skill to have!

TO?

You see, there used to be a time when I would have dismissed Terrill's antics as just another excuse to get attention.

You know, the very public slams against Donovan McNabb, his teammates and his coach while he played for the Eagles, and as many fans were, I was just one very happy camper to see him go.

Of course this man has problems...it's been documented that both the 'Niners and the Eagles have offered him counseling, which he's refused.

Which shouldn't surprise anyone...no one wants to admit that they're depressed. There are not a lot of big, hearty NFL players who will go out and gladly lose a limb for their teams while all they want to do is cry because they're "depressed".

I know this, because I've gone through depression myself.

And, I will tell all of you right now...you'd never, ever wish that deep, dark black hole of a so-called life on your worst enemy.

We may never know what happened, or even like this guy or the team he plays for.

But, if we're compassionate human beings (which I know we are!), let's just hope that he gets the help that he needs.

Friends and Family

I don’t believe I need to remind anyone that today is the fifth anniversary of that one defining moment that crosses many generations.

Yes, it’s an awful anniversary that’s remembered by everyone. We all know where we were when we first heard the news.

That senseless loss of life…the husbands, wives, partners, friends.

I almost lost a long-time friend during 9/11 five years ago, and now I treasure his friendship more than ever. He’s always been a part of my extended family…that wonderfully loose definition that includes everyone from my mother, our family, to her long-time partner, to his family, their husbands, girlfriends, my own terrific and incredible boyfriend and his family, my friends, his friends, our friends.

Our friends.

A few years back, a sociologist may have called them an “urban tribe”, and at the time, that was the keyword for young, educated, city-dwelling types who were “hipper-than-thou” who were only gathering at the best places to sip wine and check each other out.

On Saturday morning, four of us gathered for breakfast before setting out for a funeral for a friend’s sister. We’re all properly dressed for such a somber occasion (with the exception of the “Windsor Double Knot Problem”).

Of course, we all went through the viewing line, and through the Mass with eloquence and grace.

But, on the way back to my friend’s flat, it hit me…we are the new “urban tribe”. We’ve celebrated births, deaths, celebrations, concerts, three day station events, successful fund drives and capital campaigns together.

We are family.

Yeah, the age range between the four of is between 40 and 55, but it really doesn’t matter.

We’ve been friends for years.

And yes, these wonderful folk have become family to me.

Car Talk

I drive.

A lot.

And, I'm not talking about these little jumps back and forth to the local Wegman's or Target...I'm talking about putting on some serious mileage on your odometer.

For the past nine months, I've done a commute that would wilt much stronger men. Fifty miles a day, round trip.

In New Jersey.

Oy.

Then, every Friday afternoon after work, I'd make the drive down to AMF's place outside of Philly so we could spend the weekend together (brief disclosure: he's so worth it!), so that's another 90 miles or so. One way.

Anyway, I spend an awful lot of time in my car and as a result, you tend to end up with a lot of stuff in the back seat, since that's become my unofficial "closet space" while I'm on the road.

And, like a closet that isn't "Martha" perfect, it will get out of hand. But, like a typical messy closet or junk drawer (and you know you have one, or the other or both), everything you've been looking for will be there!

I found:

The huge pins for my Scottish kilts (I hear plaid is big this year).
More CD's than are probably legal in any country.
More pairs of shoes than any woman should own.
Cookbooks. Lots and lots of cookbooks.
Two pair of earrings. In the ashtray.
One can of vegetarian refried beans (don't ask).
The one-and-only belt that works with my jeans, which I could not find last weekend.

And, my favourite bit of paper...directions to AMF's house from last October!

Who knows what I'm going to find when I go through my cargo space next week...

Have a great holiday weekend...I know for all of us on the East Coast, it's going to be a stormy one, but seriously...when was the last time you saw "Casablanca" or played a game of "Scrabble"?

Class

Now, let's see...if I look in my "American College Dictionary" circa 1964 (think I need a new one?), there are fourteen definitions for this term, and not one of them even comes close to the concept that we've all come to associate with proper social behaviour.

The terms "class" and "classy" has been thrown around for ages, and mostly inappropriately. You know...Lyle Lovett is a "class act", Madonna is not.

"Project Runway" is a classy "reality show", but "All-Star's Big Brother" aint.

In my mind, class is grace. Class is that sort of intangible quality that the-late-but-unforgettable Katherine Hepburn had; so, of course you have Paul Newman, Meryl Streep, Alan Alda, Martin Sheen, Candace Bergen (and I'm sure you could name others!) all had, from the others who just *don't have it*.

Class defines athletes(and former coaches), as well such as Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, Jack Nicklaus, Larry Bird, Charles Barkley, John Madden, Donovan McNabb, Rick Patino, and I could go on and on all evening!

But, they were warned. Between Jimmy Jones and Bill Parcells, they were told that this is a player without any class.

Or any grace.

Rain

I love rain.

I love the gentle sound of it during the spring when it's finally time to open up the windows after a long winter and smell that great, sweet spring air that wafts in.

I look forward to the summer when the western sky turns inky black, knowing that relief from a heat wave is on the way.

And, my favourite? A good rainy, chilly weekend in the autumn here on the East Coast. I'm a "comfort creature" by nature, so that gives me the most excellent excuse to cook and bake, wear sweats and warm socks, watch football and hockey and cuddle up with AMF!

However, rain isn't everyone's friend.

As I'm sure all of you know, today is the first anniversary of Hurricane Katrina's landfall on the Gulf Coast.

The rebuilding process will be an on-going effort for years...please take some time out this week and consider how you may be able to contribute to this cause.

And, all I wanted was some coffee...

Well, I'm an easy sort of gal, you know...I'm always open to have a conversation.

We live in very difficult times, and we may not always agree with each other, but if we're both willing to talk, perhaps we can come together and forge some sort of agreement with each other.

I truly understand that there are a lot of very angry people out there, for whatever reasons.

So, here's me...driving down Route 206 on Friday afternoon, and in desperate need to feed my late afternoon caffiene fix. "I Spy" a 7-11, and a good parking spot on the side, since all I wanted to do was enjoy my coffee and have a smoke.

If I'm going to take a break, I prefer to do that away from the entrance to any convenience store. I don't want to subject anyone to my second-hand smoke (really, I don't) as people with kids are going in and out, and besides...I've been driving for two hours, and I'd like a break, myself.

And there it was...a huge SUV blocking my way into said spot. So, I pulled into the one in front of the store, and then I noticed that SUV was blocking me, so that I couldn't get out...

...and then, the driver got out, and she was obviously hell-bent on confronting me.

So, I got out of my car (with cell phone in hand!), and I was accused left, right, up and down about how I dropped the "f-bomb" to her, and how she was being a nice person and giving me her spot, and how I *dare* put her in a bad mood...she was just raving, and her face was a very violent shade of purple.

While I'm sure the teenagers' in the parking lot may have been looking forward to a cat fight between two middle-aged ladies, I just shrugged her off, and walked in to get my coffee.

Everyone in the 7-11 saw it, and when I walked in, I said, "Hey, there's a crazy lady in the parking lot!", and then we all saw her eyeing up the back end of my little Scion xA.

I have absolutely no idea what she was up to, but I guess there were too many eyes on her, and she pulled out and left.

I'll leave it all up to you to discuss how someone could be that angry.

Wow...a week off!

So, please excuse me if I sound a bit giddy throughout this post, but I'm really besides myself with joy, because next week I have...

A. Week. Off.

If anyone reading this blog is a fellow contract employee, you'll fully appreciate this incredible concept. You know, the whole "if-you-don't-work-you-don't-get-paid" deal, which is why I think we appreciate it more.

Yes, I have interviews and the like, but really, it's the last weekend of summer and I'm going to drain every moment of my free time this week doing things that I enjoy.

I'd like to say that I've got a major "to do" list...you know, swapping out the summer clothes for the fall ones, cleaning the windows and sorting out the sock drawer...that sort of thing.

I can tell you right now that none of the above will happen.

So far, here's what's on my "To Do" list for next week:

1 - Sleep in, and turn off the cell phone.
2 - Make tea, put on some music, and finish up crocheting that pillow cover that I've been working on for the past couple of weeks.
3 - Take a nap. In the afternoon. I hear it's good for recharging your brain cells.
4 - Work on the blanket that I've been promising my boyfriend for ages. Make more tea, and catch up with "Project Runway" in afternoon reruns.
5 - Visit local farmers' markets, and make pesto. Buy more tea.
6 - Make one perfect tomato sandwich for lunch, which will be followed by a nap.
7 - Catch up with friends - one for lunch, and one for dinner. Lunch, of course, will be followed by a nap.
8 - Explore some local crafts and yarn stores.
9 - Update and redo blogs.
10 - Take a nap.

And that, my friends, is my idea of an almost-perfect week off!

Check This Space!

As a wise man once said, "As one door closes, another one opens", and that will be my life next week.

My current contract ends on Friday, and I'll probably have a week or two before that next career door opens up for me.

So, in between checking out Monster.com, I'll be seeing how many people have recently viewed my resume, and in between interviews, I'll have the time to entirely redo this blog.

Take care, and do drop in next week to check out the new changes!

In the meantime, enjoy the softer side of late August. Find trees that are already turning color! Go and find a local farm stand, and pick great, perfectly ripe tomatoes for salad or tomato sandwiches.

What, you've never had a tomato sandwich? Good goddess, what are you waiting for? ;) This is the only time of the year where you can eat such a great creation!

Take two slices of whole grain bread (seriously, white bread or a roll will not work here at all). Slice one great, ripe tomato (preferably with a thin, serrated knife)into very, very thin slices.

Tear up some fresh basil and add it to some mayonnaise. If you'd like to make your own, even better. And no, that ugly concoction call "Miracle Whip" is simply unacceptable here.

Add a pinch of salt, and good grind of freshly ground black pepper.

Now, spread your basil-mayo concoction on both sides of the bread; add lettuce and/or very thinly sliced red onion rings, if you'd like. A few slices of Swiss or a good aged Gouda would work, too. Oh, and if you're a veghead, do feel free to add some "Baco-Bits".

And, here's the key part to this sandwich...press it down. Take your hands, and make a 3" sandwich into 1"...yeah, it's going to look really ugly, but it'll taste like a dream!

Trust me on this. Really!

And you want me to wear *what*?

Ya know...

It's one thing to be employed as a contract worker for a major pharmaceutical company in Northern New Jersey (which I will say no more about, lest I be "dooced"), but 'tis also another thing to hear from your agency that you should be dressed in "formal interview wear" in 105° degree heat.

Let's just say that this information was passed along to me earlier today from my contact at said agency via email...and, it's probably a good idea that we didn't speak on the phone since I would have told her...

"Are you bloody mad?" You are *so* not getting me into a skirt suit, with hose and heels in this heat! The fine folk at the other location will just have to deal with me on my own terms...meaning brains and experience mean more than what I'm wearing.

It's time for a break!

Well, I'm going to take a couple of weeks off of blogging.

I need to rethink this site, and what I want to say. I've never really populated the site the way that I'd like, and I'm still not entirely sure it has my voice, either.

Besides, I'm sure all of you are just bloody tired of me complaining about the weather and the traffic!

I'll be posting on and off over the next couple of weeks, but it'll probably be a weekly thing until September redo.

Take care, stay cool, and keep checking in!

No Gas For You!

I currently work up in Morris County in New Jersey (which is a very affluent area of the state) where everything from toilet paper to disposable ball point pens presents a new adventure in personal expenses.

And, gas is very, very expensive in Morris County. Between the outrageous "Exxon" in Summit who thinks that $3.40 a gallon for regular is acceptable, to the Gulf in Madison who will happily suck the money out of your wallet for $3.25, I decided to stop at neither.

Oh, you bloody fools! I can get regular down here in Middlesex County for $2.93!

So, why fill up at well over $3 a gallon when I drive this incredibly fuel efficent vehicle?








And, really...all I needed was five bucks worth of gas to get back home to fill up with something cheaper. I stopped at the Gulf station in Chatham...

...and I was told "No."

No? You can't give me five bucks worth of gas?

"No, madam, I can't. No five dollars here."

"Yeah, but...oh, but you have a five dollar transaction on your pump! Why can't you do the same for me?"

"No five dollars for you, ma'am."

Gobsmacked, I tell you, gobsmacked!

I haven't been this annoyed since I figured out to properly put that ring onto my gas cap (here's the trick...the flat side of that ring goes on first) and finally understood why that does call up an "engine failure" code!

Oy!

More bloggage tomorrow, and much more about the "All About The Music" fest in Philly this weekend!

Hot, Hot, Heat

I don't really care what all of these alleged "summer people" want to tell me about how great summer is. All of that chat only makes me crankier (and I'm a cranky person to begin with!)

You know you've met the well-meaning types yourself; you're trying to make conversation at the office coffee station or in the elevator while you're drenched in sweat and listening to someone drone on saying, "Well, I'm "summer person", and I just love this weather!"

While I don't condone violence of any sort (like, bashing them in the knees or pulling a Zidane headbutt at a corporate function), you have this blog owner's full permission to remind them that cooler weather is coming, and that their sweet season is already coming to an end.

Go here, and here, please do! Print them out, and put them in their inbox.

And, you also might want to remind them that NFL training camp begins for most teams later on this week.

It's also the great "wind down" time for outdoor festivals. XPN's "All About The Music" can be found there, and it looks like the legendary British Virgin festival will be happening in Baltimore.

Now, about that XPN fest...

This could get very, very interesting as the week goes on.

Just Lovin' This Short Work Week!

Ah, yes...Wednesday's out of the way, and tomorrow's Thursday...no traffic to blog about today (and I'm sure some of my core readers will be very happy about that), but I think I may have identified a weapon that the government should use against all known terrorists.










See this little bastard up there? Here on the East Coast, it's called a "Bottleneck Green Fly", and it's the scourge of beach goers everywhere.

Why, you may ask? Well, first of all, they bite. Hungry little gits, they are. They're out for blood...mine, yours and any other walking, talking, breathing organism that they can find.

Even worse, they do a full-on attack on you (which England in World Cup action couldn't pull off). They will bombard your car (especially if it's black, for some reason), yourself (if you step out of said car without being entirely covered in DEET) and goddess forbid if you're not used to them.

Believe me, I know. AMF and I made a trip down to the Delaware Bay on Monday, and I'm sure I'll be the subject of local talk for, oh, the next couple of months or so, since I did, indeed, perform an impromptu version of an Irish jig in the parking lot while trying to get all of these nasty creatures off of me and out of my Tevas.

Yecch!