Well, that was.. something.

I am writing this here, because my handwriting sucks and this experience is important, worth more than a line in my diary and deserves to be out there in the wild for discussion, should that happen.

Tonight, I was rehearsing a sketch, playing Minister So-And-So, and it was about Bill 18, the so-called anti-bullying bill here in Manitoba.

The Minister is being bullied by another person in the sketch, and rehearsing, I had a horrible flashback to a Grade 10 experience where I was assaulted by a group of boys two years older than me. 

That experience was horrible, even though I was not physically injured and that finally made me fearful enough that I went to the principal and told someone about the months of verbal abuse I had endured.  I told the principal I didn't want those three students to not ever talk to me again.  And they didn't.  It was a delicious three months of peace, and then they graduated.

That was in 1988.  I didn't tell my mom about it until some time in 2010.  We cried.  I cry now thinking about how I was so ashamed of this that I didn't tell my mom then.

So, tonight, we are rehearsing, and I'm playing the bullied party, and the bully (it's satire) is walking behind my back, as the script indicates.

I express my discomfort, because suddenly I'm that scared 15-year-old, going to the principal (director) and saying I'm not comfortable.  The director immediately makes changes to accommodate my discomfort.

The bully defends himself, saying it's OK, in real life he's a nice guy.

That, right there, ladies and gentleman, is rape culture.

In the sketch, I knee him in the nuts.  Wish I could do that in real life.  And go back in time and do it again.

My very first crochet project

I made an idiot string, and I'm quite proud of myself.

The Feline Overlords

Somebody ought to make these guys get jobs.

Here, there will be dragons!

Eventually.

Hey

Life's been interesting. This is a snap of my shopping list from a recent US trip. Others had spreadsheets, so I felt really inadequate.

Then, we found the yarn shop, and it was amazing.

Kick ass

I've been thinking about body image and size lately. Mostly because I'm becoming uncomfortable with mine (a story for another day, though). But, I just stumbled on this, and it's too good not to share.

Go here and read this.

And then go out into the world and kick ass, regardless of what the tag says. Even strong people like me need reminders occasionally.

$300 and a bunch of sweat later

I have a garden. I've spent lots of time out here, and it's so peaceful. And rejuvenating.

This summer's project is to work on the front. It's so boring and neglected.

I'm feeling very small right now

Some friends have been pestering me about not updating, and they well know why I haven't. They've been it with me.

Don't get me wrong, it's lots of fun. But, as usual, I'm all used up, and need to hunker down at home for a bit (work is crazy right now).

But, the garden is in, and it looks great. I'm looking for a complicated lace project to work on throughout the summer while I listen to audio books and watch my garden grow.

Some pics, for now. There will be more soon, I think.

I am a princess when I sew and do construction. I think it really does suit me.

There was some knitting. A very little bit. Well, a whole shawl, if I'm honest.

There was a metric butt-ton of sewing. It was annoying, but fun.

I heart spring

The time has arrived, the time I have been waiting for since I bought this netbook. I am sitting outside, with a glass of wine and the internets at my fingertips.

Today is a very good day to be me.

There are volunteer pansies springing up in the garden boxes and the flower beds (and a whole lot of weeds), Edgar is snoozing in the sun, and I think I will barbecue a large piece of beef for my dinner. This little chunk of real estate is the best $100 grand I ever spent.

With that said, life is insane. I am preparing for the show, and there is much work to be done. I'm stealing these few hours from a million other things I should be doing. Right now, I don't care. It's far too fine a day to do anything except listen to audio books, knit, and putter.

_______________________________________________________________

Mother's Day

I just tried to phone my mom, and there was no answer. No surprise there. With five grandchildren to occupy her and her own aging mother to pay attention to, the daughter 200 km away is not even on her radar screen.

But, mom? I am the woman I am because of you. And despite my many unpleasant qualities, I think I'm your finest work. I am strong, powerful and amazing. On this day, I raise a glass to you. Well, done. And thank you.

Well, there goes another weekend

I was at a meeting last week, and a couple of my fellow committee members were squeeing over my bag, because they'd seen me working on it. These particular committee members are also crafters, so they understand. Another committee member looked over and said that he didn't know where I found the time.

I smiled and said something about there being plenty of time on the bus and waiting for appointments. All knitters know that squeezing in the odd round here and there can really add up (and keeps us from killing stupid people. Knitting really takes the edge off the desire to commit murder).

I got thinking about that this afternoon, because here it is, 6 pm on Sunday, and I'm still in my pajamas. I have a to-do list as long as my arm, and I've done nothing all weekend but knit. And cook a little. A girl has to eat something to soak up the wine.

I can't help it. I am utterly captivated by the purple, yellow, green and turquoise in this hand-dyed skein (which sounds like it should be clown-barf, but it's not). The feel of the silk sliding through my fingers and along the needle is music to my hands.

The pattern is so random and clever, and I say to myself "just one more row" because I'm desperate to find out what happens next. It's better than any gripping novel.

So, yeah. That half-shawl pictured above (and believe me, the colours are way, way nicer in real life) is why:

- the kitchen cupboards have not been defuzzified

- the laundry is not done

- my hair is lank and greasy

- the new batch of wine has not been started

- there is still (STILL!) wallpaper to be stripped in the study

All that aside, sometimes knitting does take forever. These socks took nearly two months. Same yardage as the shawl I'm now making, but navy blue ribbing with one boring little cable, man-sized in hard-wearing yarn just isn't as awe-inspiring. Glad these are done.

With that said, I should probably get up and scoop the poop. And have a shower. I have to go to bed in four hours. Should get the chores out of the way now.

OMG! OMG! OMG!

I really wish I subscribed to HBO Canada right now.

On Sunday night, a series premieres, and I MUST. WATCH. IT. Game of Thrones is based on the first novel of A Song of Ice and Fire.

I listened to the first four novels in the series last summer while drinking wine and knitting on the cement pad. I picked them because each novel was at least 36 hours long (I have no idea what that means in pages). That was my only criteria.

Iwas captivated about 15 minutes in and I spent every spare moment listening for the next month.

Some of the characters on the good side are horrible. Some of the villains are so noble and kind they should be playing for the other team. People get hurt, people get killed. Heroines are so whiny and infuriating that you want to smack them upside the head. Gross, violent disgusting things happen. Some amazingly sweet and tender moments are sprinkled in the saga as well.

I soaked every word up. I dreamed about the books. I had trouble concentrating on things like... walking, because I was listening so intently. I forgot to eat. I fell asleep listening to them late at night. I was pissed off when I discovered that three more books are to follow, and the publication of the fifth has been delayed by several years (it's being published for sure this coming July. If Facebook says so, it must be true).

So... I will figure out a way to watch this, and must find a new knitting project to accompany it. Something ambitious, but not too complicated. Hmmm... should probably be lace.

I spend far too much time on the internet

But it is such a delicious way to waste said time.

Today, I've been catching up on Reasoning with Vampires. (What? It's Friday afternoon. There's no way I'm actually going to work).

I found this delightful Tumblr during a similar Friday afternoon several months ago, while reading the Huffington Post.

These are just a few of the posts that have actually made me laugh out loud this afternoon (and that was not good, because accounting is no laughing matter. I could have totally blown my cover).

I don't really have any desire to read Twilight, though I do own the first one (bought used for one dollah), and if anything I have read about it is true; I will absolutely loathe it. So, the mocking is funny. Really, really funny. More people should think about what they read so critically and talk about it so wittily.

There has been some knitting going on

Despite the near-endless family drama, televised debates to scream at, and many blogs to read, I actually have been doing what this blog is supposed to be about: knitting.

I know. I'm shocked too.

Those 14 balls of yarn from a few weeks ago? I made a bowl and a box from nine of them.

The last five got turned into this delightful little thing:

It's a bag, big enough to hold my netbook, my lunch, my knitting and maybe a book. Just the thing that a girl on the go needs for a long day away from home.

Pattern: Felted Bag with Mitered Squares (creative, no?). Modifications can be found, as usual, on my Ravelry project page.

The best part is, I now have a tiny bit of room in the china cabinet. I may (ya think?) fill it with some new yarn.

My inner nerd is absolutely delighted

with the Periodic Table of Fictional Elements. I came to enjoy science fiction and fantasy much later in life than most nerds do. I sure am making up for lost time.

Something uplifting

I just found this website. The photos are beautiful.

Fuck you, you homophobic assholes!

I've ranted in every online fora I'm a part of. I've ranted in real life. I've flounced on facebook.

But, it's not enough. I am still pissed off. Actually, I am more than pissed off. I am HULK SMASH ANGRY. And, that anger is not going to go away anytime soon. So, in the interest of protecting my blood pressure, I'm going to try and get this off my chest.

Gay is not a lifestyle choice. It is not a disease. It is biology. Some people are born attracted to people with the same parts. Some people are attracted to people with the same parts and people with the other parts at the same time. Some people don't like parts at all. Some people are born attracted to the opposite parts.

And all of the above is not any of your business unless you are the party directly involved in the attraction of the parts.

So if your young niece/cousin that you barely know announces that she is marrying another woman, you smile and say, "Congratulations!"

That is the only socially correct response. You do not email my mother and give her a blast about said niece being an abomination unto God. You do not hijack a 65th anniversary party with your bigotry and hate. You do not have a say. It is none of your business.

And, this is perhaps my biggest problem: you do not pressure my mother into lying to me.

Because my mom shouldered this burden all by herself, because she didn't want me to go HULK SMASH, because she knows that I have strong opinions and she knows that I've been on the brink of blowing for years.

Well, perhaps Mom had a point, in the interest of protecting herself.

I've had it. I've had it with being polite and pretending that I don't see that you think I am unaware of God's will because I am divorced. I drink! I dance! I have sex outside of marriage! I have multiple lovers at the same time. I will not have children. I will have a fulfilling, rewarding career in a traditionally male field. And I will be successful. I have smiled and not talked about my life, because I'm not interested in what you think. Your secret condemnation is (here's a clue) NONE OF MY BUSINESS.

Really, I am not interested in your questions, your ferreting for information so that you can pray for me. I don't believe in your god. I don't believe in any god. And, I'm really not interested in your opinions. Your opinions of me don't matter. I don't like any of you very much; haven't for quite some time now.

But you do not get to stand up and tell another person of your own blood that you don't agree with her "lifestyle". No. Not now, not ever. Now that I really know what was going on, I'm done with you. I never want to see any of you again.

I will not allow you to crush this young woman like you tried to crush me. I will have nothing to do with you ever again. I will support her, and cry tears of joy at her wedding. Then I will get really drunk and dance until my knees hurt.

900 meter dash

One week ago today, I was really hungover. Almost too hungover to knit, but I girded my loins (I'm listening to a historical yet trashy audio book can you tell?) and cast on: Knitting huge items and then throwing them into the washing machine to shrink them on purpose is amazing: See? Look at this circle that I started yesterday and finished today (that's 300 m in 24 hours): What a lovely bowl I've now got. I'm not sure if I want to put it in the china cabinet to hold yarn or in my bedroom to hold jewellery. I'm leaning towards the china cabinet - I have a feeling that the cats will want to sit in it. So, that's 900 meters knitted in 8 days. And during a week where I was frantically busy at work. Wow. Occasionally I even amaze myself.

Spring cleaning

This yarn has been sitting in the stash for four years. I bought it my first winter here in Chez Peepee, when I was broke, lonely, miserable at work and completely overwhelmed: It's time to get it out of here. I cast on for a basket, and now this is what is left, and the rest is disappearing in a hurry: I fancy a new spring handbag. That dark pink will do nicely.

We're having an election!

Let the shouting at the television and the computer screen begin!

Just in time for spring

I finished a bulky-weight cowl. Given the weather forecast, I won't be wearing this until next December:

And apparently, I'm well over due for a cut and colour.