these days of leiderhosen

I have finally found the perfect canister for my sister Heather; handmade ceramic with four horses (four siblings, four horses). It is a very beautiful and appropriate piece. Although the thought of decanting a sibling makes me a little quivery, but she's sitting in a cardboard box in a very tacky "velvet" bag and that is just not be borne. The artist is Denise of Morris Pottery. Go look at her work ; she is very talented, both as a potter and an illustrator. Her animal images are fantastic and playful. Triumph! After much ballyhoo and pointed emailing, Barbara has finally returned our July rent check! The Steven seems very impressed. Now let's see how I do on the $1,000 security department. Moving update: Books are out weighing clothes, kitchen equipment and yarn. (Three categories: fiber art/cookbooks/literature-reference) Every day, I schlep a bag of discards over the the Berkeley Library Bookshop. (In the last bag, there might have been erotica as well as all...

... for some Irish Rockabilly. More? Okay. This is one of the Steven's favorite songs:

Let me once again sing the praise of the Lazy Stupid Godless Group on Ravelry (for the non-knitterati, it's a website for knitters. The LSG messageboard group is beyond awesome (the List Avatar is Johnny Cash flipping off the camera). There really is no point, other than to shoot the shit, share the grief and try to get through the day without killing anyone. Sometimes we just flash our racks and/or the latest yarn porn just amuse ourselves. Occasionally we pimp our co-workers. The Big Issues come up pretty regularly, in between long diatribes about sex of all varieties. Today some young thing requested help with an abrupt call to return home to an alienated and unhappy family for the death of a cousin. This was her first big experience with grieving in family context. Good stuff came out of it and she got lots of good advice and the right smattering of sympathy: People grieve or panic in unique ways. As far as I’m concerned, every way is right. The unspeakable tragedy: Paren...

I had a lovely dinner in the city with Ben, although I developed a mad crush on the waiter with odd glasses, a substantial nose and a rather dapper hat. Ben is always charming, funny and somewhat shocking; even when he is miserable and mistreated he can make me choke on my own beverage. And San Francisco was lovely, lovely. Here at Casa del Leiderhosen we are about 50% packed. With my closet emptied I can see what a perfectly appropriate garret bedroom it might have made. I have four boxes of evening clothes and two big boxes of vintage wool coats and could not tell you why. The next big packing task will be the kitchen and then the studio. All the same, we have two weekends left to get it all done.

Never discuss yarn stash in bed. Never negotiate theoretical space while naked. When your darling friends offer to help you move, ask for boxes. Lots of them. And then step aside. When you pass on your blog url, dont' forget that little search box in the upper corner; at some point everyone will search for themselves in the cybersphere. ("Jeff Bui, Jeff Bui, Jeff Bui." I owe him a pair of socks and possibly a red shiny toaster.)

The new (rented) digs; it's the most beautiful house. It probably didn't look nearly as good when it was brand new. Smokin' kitchen with a gas gas gas range!!!! I'm putting these up so I can ogle them at will, the carrot at the end of a month-long stick.

As I was once again hauling out all the trash barrels yesterday, Barbara accosted me and wanted to know that if we'd stay if the 8% increase in rent were not to happen. I told her that I sympathize with her fiscal plight these days and know how she badly she needs that extra income... At this point her body language went all wonky. She'd not make eye contact and shifted her weight, fiddled with her hands and said oh no, she's gonna do a reverse mortgage or ... Great. She was juicing us. It was pretty clear. I told her things were in motion for the new place and we were going to leave as of the thirty-first. Now I can hardly wait, but I have to get the last month's rent back from her as well as the security deposit. Any bets on how that'll go? This is an image from Jessica's wedding. The lovely Casey on the right was taking me for a spin on the grass. She is an exceptionally graceful dancer and good sport. (We need to find her a new girlfriend.)