Frogging is one of those things that every knitter and crocheter out there is far too familiar with.  Frogging is what happens when you either don’t like what you are making or you make a mistake in what you are making.  To those of you non-knitterly folks, the term “frogging” comes from the sound of the yarn as it is ripped back (pun intended).

I started a pair of socks from this book:

just prior to going to my conference in Orlando.  It was a simple pattern…I would basically be knitting stockinette for the whole thing (i.e. no pattern, just straight knitting).  The ONLY difference between this pair of socks and the pair that I knit last year is that I was going to do these toe up – on double pointed needles, a new technique for me.  And not only was I going to do them on DPN’s, I was going to learn a new method for creating the toe – by using short rows.  I cast on, followed the directions and went happily on my way.  Until.

Until I was finished with the toe and I needed to distribute the stitches onto 4 needles instead of the 2 used just for the toe.  I got them distributed and went to continue on knitting but something was wrong.  The working yarn was on the wrong needles.  Okay, so I turned the sock inside out so that things would be reversed…but no…it wasn’t working properly.  I was so confused.  I set the project down for a while and came back to it and just. could. NOT. figure. it. out.

So I set it aside for an indefinite period of time, which happened to end this morning.  I thought I would take a little project with me to Plainfield…and this is such a perfect little project.  I mean, really…I’m a fairly intelligent person, despite my hair color, I can surely figure this one out.  Right?

Nope.  So I frogged.

And then.

Then I discovered what I had done wrong.  Somewhere, somehow, at some point in knitting the short row toe….I picked up and worked with the waste yarn.  That little tail of yarn that you have at the beginning and end of a project…the one that is just supposed to dangle…and not get used.  Well.  I used it. 

I was very sad to have to frog my little toe…but I was greatly relieved that I had not read the instructions incorrectly or was following a pattern that I wasn’t going to be able to understand.  Nope…I just knit with the wrong end.

I’m not sure where I’ve been lately…but certainly not blogging.  Not sure why either.  Last week I was at a user’s conference and so was consumed with that all week and since I didn’t take my computer I did not do much Internet stuff.  The conference was really good…lots of great ideas for the college and for the projects that I’m working on.  This week has been consumed with playing the “catch up” game…one that I’m not really good at doing.  All I want to think about is all the really cool stuff I learned at the conference, not the “old”, mundane stuff that I need to do.  Ugh.  But I do get to have a day “off” this Friday…hopefully I can put together some of the bookcases/desk things that I purchased from Ikea. *yey*  Perhaps I can also do some creative writing.  *yey* again!

In sad news, the always tough decision was made to have Simba put to rest on Tuesday.  She is my “foster” cat, one of two that I am looking after for a friend.  She was a really sweet cat, very mild tempered and very friendly.  She started getting sick about 6 weeks ago and KD discovered that she had a tumor in her intestines the size of a lemon.  KD came over on Monday to see her and made the decision then.  Please keep KD in your prayers – she lived with Simba for 10 years and it is always hard to let go of something you love.  The other cat, Saboo, seemed a little lonely last night – he was doing a little roaming around the house and “complaining”.  I’m thinking he knows that something was wrong.

I’ve also been overwhelmed with my house – just a little, though.  I finally have some grass growing in the front yard in the place where the pipe burst, which is good.  I was very happy to see the green fuzz popping up.  My roses are also in full bloom and some of my other plants.  Jane helped identify some of the plants a few weeks ago and guess what?  She said one of the plants would attract butterflies…and I actually saw one this week!  Amazing.  Now I just need to mow the yard and put some fertilizer down.  And clean the basement.  And “unpack” the “office” and get it put together.  And vacuum and mop.  And buy groceries.  *sigh*

Here’s how I feel:  **WHATEVER**

You know that game “how many differences are there between these two pictures”?  Well, how many differences can you spot between the baby sweater that I am currently knitting vs. the one that I’m supposed to be knitting?

I count at least 7.

You see, when I made my first mistake I thought I had documented the “changes” that I made.  As it turns out, I did document them, but on the wrong stripe sequence.  Oops.  I’m glad I figured it out on time.  All I can say right now is that at least the front and back panels match.  They may be incorrect, but they match.

(At least I didn’t mess up until the 3rd stripe…I’d be really, really pathetic if I had messed up on the 1st or 2nd stripes.)

All part of the fun and games while knitting the blond way!

Okay, not really.  But I would like to think this, and so would he, so I’ll label this as such.  I bet you are now wondering what in the world I’m talking about.  Let me ‘splain.  My Dad has many talents.  Reading and following instructions are not always one of them.  I can remember a time when he purchased a new lawn mower and gave me the instructions to read so that I could tell him how to assemble it.  Then there was the time when he couldn’t figure out how to put the screen door on our newly installed sliding glass doors – and I did.  One year for Christmas my parents gave me a 10-speed bicycle – in a box.  Learning to follow instructions for how to put things together sort of fell my way – by default.  I guess you could say that it was something that my dad taught me impassively.

All of this is the preface to my purchase of a lawn mower on Saturday.  I assembled it on Sunday and let’s just say it was a little bit of a chore.  I had to go to Ace to purchase a socket big enough for the wheel bolts, but after that things went smoothly.  Until I went to start up the engine.  I pulled quite a few times on the pulley thing but the engine just didn’t whirl (I might also add here that I very nearly ripped my arm off trying to pull it) before I figured out that I needed to hold in the blade control thingie at the top of the handle and then the engine fired up right away. 

So now I have a newly mowed lawn and that feels really good.

I also had a chance to knit some yesterday after Kate invited me over and her husband fed me.  I haven’t knitted in quite a while, so it felt really good.  I’m going to start a new pair of socks to take with me for the conference in a few weeks.  I’ll probably start on them this Friday at Joanna’s house.

I posted last week (?) about my idea of doing some “conditioning” in order to prepare for yarn festival season (in July and September).  Almost as soon as I had decided to do this I got a little “ill”.  I’ve been better for a few days now and honestly, I’ve not once thought about my great conditioning plan.  Until today.  My boss darkened my doorstep this afternoon and said “let’s go walk up the stairs and get some exercise”.  Well, not only did we walk up the stairs to the second floor, we did it 3 times.  My knee is a little sore but my thigh’s are killing me.  So I take this, today, as the official start to my conditioning program.  (Although I must add, for complete honesty’s sake, that eating farewell cake for AH’s retirement (registrar’s office) and then eating a cupcake after the “Administrative Staff” meeting sort of reversed any “conditioning” effect the 6 stories of stairs might have had.)

In other news, my final was last night.  I don’t think my brain has totally processed that I’m out of school for a while.  I’ve decided to take a couple years off to, you know, enjoy MY NEW HOUSE.  Something that I can’t do properly by working a 45-hour a week job and take 5-6 hours of graduate school (which in this school feels more like 15 hours, but that’s just me).  I will be doing some work towards the progress of the degree, I just won’t be doing the heavy academic work.  So, I’m free.  Free for the summer.  Free to knit.  Free to read for pleasure.  And, free to enjoy my house!  Yey!

Oh, and I will have another house guest for a few days.  My aunt is flying in from California to spent a few days here in sunny Chicagoland.  She will split her time between me and my cousin’s house.  Looking forward to seeing her again!

This is all about my mom, and it’s going to get a little sappy.  Sorry about that.  I have been blessed in this life with a good family.  Both of my parents have instilled in my sister and I good, healthy relationships with them.  I can’t tell you how many of my friends don’t always get along with their parents or even really like their parents, or like them but just don’t like being around them all that much.  My family is different.

Perhaps it is because my parents chose the difficult road of moving far away from the nucleus of their family to pursue higher education.  We learned to be self reliant as a family, something that caused us to be really close.  I can’t imagine raising kids 1000 miles from any family support systems, but my parents did.

My mom in particular was the one who held the family together and for that she deserves all the flowers in the world today.  I am thankful that she was not overly critical of me and that she found a way to balance my independent streak with patience and guidance.  She sacrificed a college career to put my dad through school and then sacrificed (willingly) her professional career to raise us kids.  It was such a blessing, looking back on my school days, that she did that.  She was always home when I got out of school.  She always cooked dinner.  She was always there to drive us to extra-curricular things.  She was my Girl Scout leader and she was a Band Mom (in High School).  She patiently endured my French lessons and carted me off to the U of A for bassoon lessons.  I know that I am the person that I am today because of her.

Thank you, Mom.  HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY. 

I LOVE YOU.

I have the strongest desire to be a stealth yarn bargain hunter.  Yes, you read that one correctly.  I imagine that a stealth yarn bargain hunter is one who knows her fibers, knows the different “weights” of yarns and can then be stealthy in bargain hunting.  I’ve found over the last few years that the best bargains to be had come directly from the manufacturers themselves, and to this end, I will be at both the Midwest Fibre and Folk Art Fair and the Wisconsin Sheep and Wool festivals this year.

In addition to knowing my yarns from my needles and hooks, must also come the ability to have the stamina to peruse each and every fiber shop at these festivals.  Enter “conditioning”.  Since “working out” is absolutely NOT fun, I plan on entering into a conditioning routine whereby I exercise every day and vow to eat healthier.  Since the college just opened up their newly re-designed Sports Center, I thought that this would be the perfect time to start said conditioning routine.  So, starting tomorrow (if I feel up to it, as I was sick all day on Saturday and have only eaten a sum total of 15 crackers and 5 corn chips since Friday night when I ingested the foul meal that I had and then promptly regurgitated that foul meal..but I’m digressing), I plan on walking on the treadmill at lunch time.  I don’t know for how long or for how far, but I will do only that which I am able to do.  Hopefully I can set no expectations on myself and therefore I cannot fail in this task.  Well, I suppose the only way I could fail would be to not buy yarn.  And that is NOT an option.

For I am going to be a stealth yarn bargain hunter, yes I am.

Yup, the closing totally happened.  But it was not an ordinary one.  First let me say that the Village of Lindenhurst has their road numbering system totally screwed up.  The address for this title agency was even numbered and as we drove down Grand Ave, ALL even numbered buildings were on the right.  So we toddled on along and then realized that we had driven past the building.  Turned around and headed the other way. Passed the building again before we realized that it was on the SOUTH side of the street instead of the NORTH side like all the OTHER even numbered buildings on Grand.  Ugh.

With the task of getting there done, we went inside and were the first ones there.  The owner, S, and her agent (also her mother-in-law) came next, and as we had gotten to know each other a little bit during the flood, we proceeded to chat, as normal women do.  My lawyer was next and was, not surprisingly, down-to-business.  She started walking me through all the paperwork and then S’s lawer and my agent showed up.  (All women, BTW.)  So as my lawyer walked me through everything, her lawyer walked her through everything and during all of it the title agency person was talking to the agents making sure that they got paid the correct amount. 

Not surprisingly my name was misspelled in several places so we had to stop and have things re-printed.  During one particular lull in the conversation, my lawyer noticed that I worked at Lake Forest College and we determined that we both knew one of the professors, Les Dlabay.  Small world.  Then, during another particular lull, my lawyer saw S’s maiden name and they found out that S’s mother knows my lawyer.  Small world.  There was much talking and bantering and “catching up” with things between certain parties, all much to my Dad’s chagrin.  After some final adjustments (more $$$ for me) and everything was signed, it was over and done.  I was officially a homeowner. The only really bad thing that happened is the realization I had that my signature was starting to look a little horrid.  My last name has lost an “i” somewhere and the dot above it seems to float, sadly looking a little lonely.  Also, the “e” at the end is starting to have issues.  But all-in-all things went well.  Except for my Dad, who had to sit and listen to all of us “women” gaggle.

I was talking to someone at work the other day and he happened to ask about the house.  Somehow during the conversation we started talking about TV and I happened to mention that I don’t have one.  He looked shocked.  “What do you mean you don’t have a TV?”  Well, I mean that I don’t currently own one and I’m happy about that.  *blank stare*  I could just see the wheels in his head coming to a grinding stop…”no TV?  How can that be?  What would one do without a TV?“  The truth be told, I disconnected my cable 10 years ago and aside from a 2-year period where I subscribed to basic cable (local channels + about 4 others), I’ve only used rabbit ears for reception.

When I moved out of my apartment in July, I purposefully left my TV behind.  With the advent of Hulu I can watch just about any TV program that is on the air today.  Who needs a TV?  The real question that I feel bubbling up inside you is, “why did you do it in the first place?”  Excellent question.  I’m glad you asked.

The real reason is that I have a tendency towards depression.  At times when I am particularly stressed, lonely and depressed, TV becomes an excuse for me.  I would go to work early, stay late and then come home and watch TV all night long.  Go to bed and repeat the next day.  That is certainly a life that no one would want to live.  I decided that TV was cutting into time that I could be doing other things and so I made the choice.  I can’t recall a time in the last 10 years that I’ve been tempted to either get a TV or to hook cable back up.  Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love TV and if it were not part of my life in anyway, well, then I might change my mind.  But I am now able to control the temptation of being slothful just a little bit more and for that I am glad that I don’t have a TV.

What about you?  How do you view your TV life?  Do you find that it is an excuse and that you feel that there are other things that you would rather be doing, or do you feel that you have your TV life under control?  What would your life look like if you did not own a TV?

Just for the record, as long as I am being truthful about my personal TV preferences, when I go home for a visit, or I go to Plainfield to visit the H’s, I spend nearly the whole weekend watching TV.  I look forward to my TV weekends and I completely overdose.  But I would still rather not have a TV at home, since that is where I spend a good portion of my life.  TV is a retreat and retreats should be something special, something to look forward do, something that does not interfere with your normal life but instead enhances it for a small, intermittent time.

So there have been some comments from people regarding whose responsibility it should be to have the house repainted.  For the record, when a contract for a house is signed, there are 5 days in which the prospective owner has to have an inspection done on the house and to address any major issues.  I had my inspection done in a timely manner, but the inspector, for what ever reason, did not address the issue of potential lead paint, nor the issue of peeling paint.  I don’t know why, but he didn’t.  So, because I missed that window of opportunity, this repaint job becomes my responsibility.  It is not one that anyone involved with this process had foreseen, so I don’t really blame anyone for not knowing about the issue, just the fact that once it was an issue they waited a little too long for me to have it taken care of in a timely manner.  Regardless, it is now my responsibility and I am taking care of it.  I do want to thank everyone (Jane, Kate, Matty, Mom and Dad, Rebecca) for voicing your encouragement and support – it is always nice to know that people are watching out for me and care about me, and for that, I am truly thankful that you all are in my life.

On to other, knitterly and blonde things.  I was reviewing the progress I had made with the baby sweater and I am now amiss with grief because I have made a very, very blonde mistake.  I obviously was not paying attention when I did the back panel of the sweater and in one section knit two extra rows and then neglected to notate that.  So now, in knitting the front panel, I’ve knit the section in question and the two are not even.  Not even close.  Now I have to frog and I HATE frogging.  Partly because I’ve already cut the yarn to prepare for the next color of stripe and it is just stinky.  Guess what I’ll be doing tomorrow in between working on my Greek stuff?