The year in review.

Two lost souls swimming in a frozen fish bowl.

It's snowing. Again.

I'm alarmed by the amount of snow on my roof.

We are out of pellets for the wood stove. I just called the south store; they're open, thank JEEBUS. I asked the dude on the phone how Scholls Ferry was looking. He said it hadn't been plowed when he came in this morning, "But if you've got 4-wheel drive or chains, you should be fine." Works for me! Now I just have to go out there, dig my car out of the snow, put on the chains, and pray I can make it to Scholls. I think I should be okay.

The last time we had a really bad snow storm (2004, was it?), D and I were able to drive my Jeep to 24-Hour Fitness and shower there after our pipes froze solid. The south store is only about a mile down Scholls, so it's like 4 times closer. It's only a mile by road from my house to Scholls, so keep your fingers crossed for me. I have to go put a bag of kitty litter and a shovel in the car. Just in case.

To make myself presentable to the general [store] public, I melted snow in huge stainless steel mixing bowls on the wood stove and had a nice sponge bath in the living room. Yeah, it sucked. But at least I'm CLEAN. My hair is filthy, but I plan on hiding that under a hat. Hopefully I will be home soon with 9 rolls of duct tape to wrap around that busted pipe. I would so dearly love to have a shower tonight.

By the way, all of the major highways coming into and out of Portland from the east and west have been closed. WE'RE TRAPPED IN HERE!!

#@$!!!

Silk Mocha has been DISCONTINUED.

I hate you, World.

Further adventures in Knittygritting

I've got two more completed projects under my belt: the ponytail hat for R and an umbilical cord hat for Meatie's acupuncturist's newish baby.

Of chickens and chickening and the chicks who dig it.

Conversation with a friend earlier this evening:

AED:  i wonder if i could get a chicken. wouldn't it just wander off?
AED:  and therefore die
Me:  I dunno. I think they like to stick around their homes
Me:  but I have no chicken experience
AED:  how do they know its their home?
AED:  they dumb, remember
Me:  You take the chicken and you say, "Look, chicken. This is your home!" and you make sure that chicken is home before sundown so you can show it where it's supposed to chicken until the sun comes up again
AED:  dang right!
AED:  You chicken right here, chicken!
Me:  heehee
Me:  I just had a small asthma attack over that

Knit knit, purl purl! I married young, the rest is a blur.

I finally finished my second illusion scarf!





Stockingette stitch always curls in on itself, which bugs the hell out of me. Unfortunately, from everything I've read so far about yarn, blocking is pretty much useless on acrylic yarn.

Merry Christmas. IF YOU DARE.

We've replaced these children's Santa Claus with a serial killer.

Let's see if they can tell the difference!

Toddler in the middle: Can totally tell the difference.
Little girl on left: Knows the horrible truth but can't quite bring herself to believe it.
Kid on the right: Made a deal with Evil Santa and is eager for the carnage to begin.

I'm made of meat, motherfucker.

Christine Alexander, the newest addition to Carl Wolfson's morning show on Portland's KPOJ, saw the now-infamous Palin turkey slaughter video during the broadcast last week and was so disturbed that she swore she would never eat turkey again. This morning she is talking about the Tofurky she is preparing for Thanksgiving tomorrow.

I still find it fascinating that we as a society are so detached from the reality of the foods we consume that many of us never make the connection between the bird carcass on our table and the violent death that must occur in order to put it there.

Something fishy.

Finally dined at Nicholas tonight! We met R and waited outside for a table for only about 10 minutes. Every time we'd stopped there before, the wait was estimated at about 45 minutes, so tonight was a pleasant surprise. But seriously, Nicholas: Get a bigger place. I've seen the crowds. You can afford it.

I had eggplant with a side of eggplant. Just kidding. But not really. I got baba ghanouj for an appetizer and deep-fried eggplant for the entree. Everything was delicious, especially the homemade naan, which was literally as big as our tabletop. So. Unbelievably. Good.

As I was enjoying my eggplant delight (four strips of eggplant, cut length-wise and deep-fried), R said, "I'm not even going to tell you what that looks like. You might not finish it." I peered down at my plate, trying to picture something disgusting.  

"Tissue samples?" I guessed, thinking of her work as a lab technician.  

"No," R answered. "It looks like a fish fillet."

Right. Like I said: tissue samples.

Gay bingo was very fun. I didn't win, but I gave a gay fella a backrub.