these days of leiderhosen

The leaf blower dude next door has just upended the idea of sleeping in today (UC Holiday). The Steven's company is having a minor disaster so he is taking his ass and the train into work. So we are alone again at last, Darlings. Saturday was the perfect day for Special Olympics practice. Sue, Stacey and David were all there. Darling Ruben (Heather's paramour) still seems to think Heather is gone away somewhere and will be coming back. We have tried to explain death, finality and Heaven and all that. This loop he is in is a bit heartbreaking. Spinning from stash: unknown fiber mix from Pigeonroof (At best guess: merino/silk), colorway Blackthorne which is this enigmatic deep blackish purple that I have to hide in the freezer lest other people see it and beg it off of me. Even non-knitters run away with skeins of it. I am unenthusiastic about any materials in the house from Netflix. Joss Weedon's Dr. Horrible Sing Along Blog DVD came last week and I highly recommend it as...

Thank gawd for dopamine or whatever chemical it is that keeps us from physically acting out our dreams while completely asleep because I've just shook off a dream so unsavory and so infuriating that I might still be ready to clean the antagonist's clock. It was rather a disappointment to wake up and realize that no clock and no antagonist or key grips could be damaged in this production, so I kicked the bed apart and brushed my teeth again. And thank gawd for Silly Cats. I wake up sweaty and knotted and frightened and just ready to find that cricket bat and do some serious damage and... there she is: standing on the toilet lid, grinning at me: the ridiculous little fuzzy person I live with. And Shred's so excited for unscheduled playtime, to get an extra cuddle in and to headbutt me another "goodnight". This may not be the typical cat: she has far too much joie de vivre to remain aloof or even semi-dignified. It's times like this she's worth everything s...

The Linden Lab Holiday Party was held tonight at Bimbo's 365 Supper Club on Columbus. The theme was steampunk. Any theme that puts men in kilts, lace, top hats, tail coats and goggles is a very good thing indeed. To say nothing of the women and transgendered which were deeply stunning, for the most part. One woman talked with great pride and at length about her teenage daughter robotics team. I wanted her to take me home. It was pretty good. Any party that has shots of creme brulee is a pretty good party. Three glasses of champagne, two beers and one good waltz around the floor to Gogol Bordello "Start Wearing Purple" and now we are home and the false eyelashes are back in their cage where they belong. San Francisco is even magic at night. Please cross your fingers for me: Steven may be getting my damn flu/cold. If he gets it, I will be even deeper agony than before.

I feel better? Y'all are just the best. Apparently all you lovely blog readers have all kinds of maladies colds as well as just being really fucking cold and that makes me wish we all were in a warm place, wearing toasty socks with someone adorable to dole out chicken soup with homemade noodles and change the television channels for us. I am feeling better! Starting: The Story of Edgar Sawtelle Watching: The Tudors , Season Two. By disc 2, I am very tired of the theme and feel dirty just telling you I am watching this smut. Peter O'Toole's voice is still marvelous. Dinner: Fettuccine Alfredo with smoked salmon. The Steven loves this, although a future cardiologist might have another opinion. Spinning: merino/alpaca/silk Praline Fat Cat goodness. 8 smashing ounces. Tomorrow: Track with the Special Olympics guys! Randomness The Oranges and Lemons rhyme in reference to Clash City Rockers by the Clash. The Clash is the only thing that sounds good when one's head is ...

This would be the third day off work with this this cold. Yesterday was spent in bed with regular shots of Nyquill to knock my ass out. Today I made it to the office but turned around and left when the ceiling wouldn't remain still. It's not warm here; it's almost hot. Wife beater, frizzy hair and pajama bottoms hot . 75 degrees in the treehouse hot, which according to pale blue people is quite warm enough, thank you. Also the fever spikes might be causing me to sporadically discard clothing. The three glorious kids next door have serenaded Shred and I from the deck with Perse's new "Ducks in the Pond" song. There was choreography which included their nanny's new barky little dog Treasure. (Did I mention the nanny renamed herself Heaven last week?) Latest thing to piss me off: single missing handknit socks.

Windstorm Head cold Insomnia Aged mildly incontinent cat I am willing to delegate any of these. While I am here waiting for the Chinese herbs to kick in, a bit of project eye candy may be necessary. These are "party skeins": odds and ends bits of spinning projects all plied together. They must be mating in the closet because now they are demanding a UN seat.

New Purchase: Black Dansko clogs. They were a bit more than I could afford but my old shoes were downright decrepit and the Frye boots need a break. Today I am wearing said clogs with very bright chevron striped hand knit socks . (Note to self: Do not run in clogs.) Making Progress: The Obama Cross stitch, 80% done. (I am never fecking doing this again; not unless I get a new pair of eyes.) Turquoise felt slippers: 1 down, 1 to go. Spinning: Pigeonroof Knits ' semi-luminous merino/silk blend roving Papaya in singles (pink, red, orange). This could be my favorite fiber blend. Thanks, Krista, for the custom order. Anticipating: Stitches West in Santa Clara at the end of February. I want Katherine to come West. (Katherine? You need to call us or send photos! Or both!) Inauguration Day: UC Library is going to have a massive screen on the lawn. New Year's Resolutions: Keeping the finances in check. So far, so good! Moleskine Desk Daily Diary . It's red so I can't lose it ...