Winds-Day

It is the middle of the week, the day we all know as Wednesday.  Some folks call it Humpday, but I just never seemed to get the hang of that little piece of the vernacular.  To me, it'll always be Wednesday...

Except that it is just a bit more now that I am one of those foolhardy "daily bloggers."  It is also the time of The Wednesday Night Bullet Post.  Let's face it...I can't be coherent and consistent with the topic all the time.

Here's your bullet points for this particular seven day stretch:

*We are having something of a Wind Chill Situation over here today.

*It is somewhere around eight thousand degrees below zero.

*No.  I am most certainly not exaggerating. And, quite frankly, I resent the implication.

*I know when I am cold.  I am very, very aware of these things.

*Temperature Sensitive...that's me.  

*Hence, I can speak with great authority regarding the current situation with the temperature.  

*No.  You do not need to bother checking the thermometer.  If we can't trust one another by now...

*Here's some alpaca.  I hear good things about alpaca and its ability to keep me warm when the mercury dips below the -1000 degree mark.

*This is the end result of having opened a most delightful gift box from Ronni:

That girl has good taste in fiber.  Very good taste, indeed!  And it spun like a dream...

*No.  The fact that this fiber sat in the stash for a year does not mean that it is not utterly fantastic.  I simply wanted to be completely sure of myself before setting wool to wheel.

*You don't mess with alpaca.  Alpaca will be good to you if you are good to the alpaca.

*I wore an alpaca sweater to school on Monday.  It was cold.

*Not as cold as today, though.  Sort of wishing I'd saved the 'paca for Wednesday Wear...

*Next Tuesday is the day I am scheduled to teach the second half of that Safety Procedures class.  18 or so teachers are supposed to come sit before me and grow ever wiser under my tutelage.

*It is also the day that we inaugurate a brand new president.  There are about a million televisions reserved all across the school district so that the kids can watch.

*This is not going to be a good day to be teaching Safety Procedures.  This fact was pointed out to me (very kindly) by one of our trainees.  

*It would have been nice to hear that my tutelage was worth missing the inauguration...but let's be realistic here.

*I'm working with The Responsible Person Who Took Charge Of Setting This Up Because She Knew Better Than To Leave It In My Hands to get the next class rescheduled.  

*I feel badly about that.  She really did do most of the work around getting this class pulled together so I can get paid to teach it.  

*It almost seemed like I was criticizing her for not remembering the whole deal with the president...

*To make matters worse, she's the one that I just learned is a fellow spinner.  We should have a certain amount of solidarity going on.

*Still...you gotta give the people what they want.  

*When a class of students sitting in a "mandatory" course turn on you, it can get really, really ugly.

*All resident felines have been informed that they will be setting aside their differences and sleeping in the bed with Mommy tonight.

*When it gets dark, it gets even colder.  (that is science...)  We could be looking at nine thousand degrees below zero if the dark and the wind chill start coordinating their assault upon us!

*And who, pray tell, is going to open the cans for them tomorrow if I succumb to frostbite in the overnight hours???????

*Should start thinking about getting an alpaca as a house pet...

Enjoy whatever may be left of your Wednesday or the memory of it in the event that you find this post after the day has dwindled down to nothing.  I shall spend what's left of mine huddling under a cat or two and doing what I can to survive until the morning.  I'm sort of regretting rinsing out that alpaca sweater I wore on Monday.  It's still wet.

Otherwise, I could have slept in it tonight.

SA

Role Rules

I mean, really!  Is it too much to ask?  There is a certain way of going about things and if people aren't going to fall into line, then we will have utter chaos on our hands here!

I am the quirky, funny, irresponsible one.  That is my job.  I am the one who is supposed to not really plan ahead and yet somehow pull off whatever it is I was supposed to be doing.  Or, at the very least, I will charmingly fake my way along.  This is my role in life.  I am the lovable screw up.

However, this whole thing hinges on the behavior of The Responsible People.  I can't very well go about the business of being all kooky and devil-may-care if they don't march along behind me and pick up the slack.  The entire plan is going to fall apart no matter how well I do my job once people start abandoning their posts.  It's really all about respecting the craft.  It's not easy not doing all that stuff.  And it takes teamwork to make it all come together.

You would think that, being Responsible People, they would have a better grasp of this

concept. 

You can imagine my chagrin when, upon arriving at the high school this morning to fake my way through teaching that Safety Procedures course for which I had not prepared at all, I learned that at least one of my co-teachers hadn't bothered to crack the binder last night either.  That did not fit into my "vision" for this day at all!  

The plan goes like this:  I say I am going to study my binder and prepare to teach the class.  I then flip through it casually for ten minutes, decide that this is more than enough time spent on the matter and go watch TV.  The following day, I will muddle my way through the class, charm people shamelessly when I don't really know what I am doing and be remembered as The Funny One.

The Responsible People get to do everything else.  And they won't mind one little bit because they like having someone there who can entertain people into forgetting that they are at a mandatory training.

Fortunately, my other teaching partner managed to read a little bit further in the binder and also remembered to copy the training booklets for the class.  She even bound them in those plastic thingies so that they would stay open without the participants having to prop them into position with their water bottles.  Without her forethought, we'd probably still be sitting there trying to figure out what page we were supposed to be on...

I did my best.  I broke out my most charming routines and disarming looks.  I even remembered a few things from the trainer's manual and dutifully taught them like I was supposed to.  But the whole thing felt rather strained.  I was so distracted by the worry over what my role was in this whole fiasco that it was hard to focus.  

Frankly, I'd have expected better from The Responsible People.  I have half a mind to actually read that stupid manual for the session next week and see how they like it when someone takes over their job!  That'll teach 'em!!!

On the plus side, I did learn that one of co-teachers is a spinner.  I didn't know that.  It's kind of unusual to run into a spinner out in the wild and rather nice to be able to chat about the craft.  (since she was the one who actually made an attempt at being responsible and allowing me to do my wacky thing, I felt that it was acceptable to engage with her...)  I also worked on the second of The Happy Pink Socks during lunch and that helped to soothe me a bit before fake-teaching the second half of the class.

At least the whole thing is over for the week.  Hopefully, my fellow instructors will get their acts together before the next one so we can do this thing the way it is supposed to be done.  I'm all for doing things correctly.  If we each step up and do our jobs according to our natures, then I think we will have a much better experience for the final portion of this course.

I can't help but fume over their lack of Responsibility, though.  I'll probably be thinking about it all night.  Expecting me to do not only my job but also theirs...the nerve!!!!  I had to stand up to teach stuff at least three times, for crying out loud!!!!

Meanwhile, why don't you look at some spinning?  I'm a spinning fool these days, it seems.  However, I am going to suggest that you all take a minute to don protective eyewear.  I realize that this request isn't exactly the sort of thing a wacky, irresponsible gal would do, but I honestly do fear for your retinas should you not take proper precautions.  There's being a lovable goofball and then there's being open to lawsuits...

Are you all set?  Good....

If not, you have only yourself to blame.  I tried to tell you...

If nothing else, you should at least squint a bit...

Don't look directly at it.  This is not the sort of fiber that does well with a flash.  It gets even more laser-like on the eyes.

It's really rather pretty in real life and has the added benefit of acting as a nightlight when I get up in the wee hours for a drink of water or something.  I'm not sure just what this yarn is destined to become, but I can assure you that it will be noticed!

Maybe I'll have it finished in time to knit up a nice binder cozy for my Safety Procedures manual.  Then I won't have to bother studying up on next week's material.  People will be so taken unawares by the cacophony of colors that they won't even notice that I don't really know how to do a choke-hold release...

This plan is, of course, contingent upon The Responsible People getting their ducks in a row.  Without their behaving according to the pre-arranged plan then there is no amount of neon merino that is going to help me...

SA

Double Digits Prove I'm Not Bright

The Time/Place:  Ms. Sheep's classroom, early on the morning of January 5th

The Players:  Ms. Sheep and One Of Her Moderately Cheerful Teaching Assistants

The Topic:  Time, Space and The Utter Dissolution Of Ms. Sheep's Higher Thinking Skills

Moderately Cheerful Teaching Assistant:  Welcome back to school, Ms. Sheep.  I trust your vacation was a good one?

Ms. Sheep:  Why yes, MCTA!  It was delightful!  I thank you for asking.

MCTA:  Hey, don't you have to teach that Safety Procedures class a couple of times this month?  I seem to recall your having mumbled something about that back in December when we were all looking forward to the holiday break and not really paying much attention to anything anyone said.  We should probably come up with a plan for those days that you won't be here.

MS:  Yup.  I have to teach it twice.  But not until the 13th.  We've got ages before we have to deal with that little blip in the schedule.  

MCTA:  That's next week.

MS:  No, no, MCTA.  It is very far away.  Now let's talk about vacation some more.  I like talking about vacations...

MCTA:  No.  The 13th is next week.  We need to discuss the plan for when you are out of the classroom.  Plans are good.  Plans give us a feeling of security and the hope that the day will not end in fiery disaster.

MS: (Looking at the MCTA with an expression of infinite patience and benevolence.  She is, after all, much older and, therefor, wiser.  It is incumbent upon her to explain to the MCTA the magical workings of time)  Dear MCTA...let me see if I can help you with this.  Today is the 5th.  That is a single digit number.  Single digit numbers are very small.  The 13th, on the other hand, is a double digit number.  Double digit numbers are very big!  It takes a long time for a wee, little single digit number to grow up and become a big, strong double digit number!  These things don't just happen in a week, sweetie.  

MCTA:  (sits there, mouth agape and clearly speechless...)

MS:  I see that you still require further explanation.  Don't be embarrassed.  It's quite all right.  I'm like your mentor, after all.  I don't mind spending the time helping you with these very complex concepts.  Now, let's take that little single digit number and do some simple addition...carry a number...multiply by 10 because any time spent in school and with uncooperative children feels ten times longer than real time....and there we go!  You can now plainly see that the 13th is, indeed...um.  Wait.  That can't be right.  Let me do that again...

MCTA:  (assuming the deadpan expression that one must employ when dealing with the clinically insane)  It's.  Next.  Week.

MS:  Well...yeah.  I guess it is.  That is an interesting bit of mathematical magic, now isn't it?  But you should also know that a week is a very long time.  A week is like a year in teacher-time!  We still have ages and ages before we need to worry about my being out for a day!  Now let's talk about those vacations some more!!!!

A week is, in point of fact, not a very long time.  It is a rather short time.  However, it is also the exact amount of time a person should spend preparing to teach an upcoming Safety Procedures course if that person hasn't bothered to even look at the manual since her refresher training last fall.  That is just common sense.  

I suppose that it will surprise no one to learn that I did not use this past week to go over all that information.  In fact, when it dawned on me today that I would need to prepare for this class, I couldn't even remember where I put the binder.  I sought out one of my fellow instructors, feebly hoping that I was wrong about the training dates and that my concepts of time and space might still have some validity. 

Negative on all counts.  I am still incapable of processing the forward movement of time.  Or remembering that I left my Safety Binder in the back seat of my car until I happen to see it on the ride home.  I have to teach this class tomorrow.  I cannot just bring along a keen-lookin' skein of handspun yarn and say, "Lookit how I spent this past week!  Ain't I sumpthin'?"  This will not suffice.

Hence, I shall be setting aside the spinning tonight.  I will have to read that stupid manual and see if I can't remember just what the heck it is I'm supposed to be imparting in the way of wisdom tomorrow.  On the plus side, this is the "full course" for those who have never had the training so we won't have to teach everything in one day.  We get to do it excruciatingly slowly and over the course of two days this month.  But the next session isn't until one of those days that starts with a number 2.  Those numbers are the really, really big double digit ones!  They take a long time to arrive what with being so gi-normous and all!

I've got plenty of time before I have to be ready for that...

SA

Car Wars: This Time...It's Personal.

The last few years over here at Paradise Condominiums And Constant Confusion, we have had an escalating situation with The Plow Guys.  The whole thing finally degenerated last winter to the point where we received multiple memos in a matter of days regarding what we should be doing with our vehicles during plow operation in order to facilitate the process.  As each piece of paper detailed conflicting information and a reminder that these were iron-clad rules, the residents were left befuddled and thinking that it might be better to just sell our cars and ride horses.  They'd probably just wander off on their own when the plows came...

Spring arrived and with it, the chance to forget the nightmare.

Seasons being what they are, though, winter has come around again.  And the parking directives have resumed their regular delivery schedule and standards of stupidity.

This is the third time this winter season that I will be parking my car back in my unplowed space.  It is the second time that I have followed the Association's directions to the letter but still been left with a big pile of snow upon which to rest my chariot.  The last memo was quite clear: When you see the plows, move your car.  We do not care if you are in the middle of something very important, having a heart attack or not exactly clothed.  Move your car.  

It snowed for a good part of the morning. I saw the plows.  Fortunately, I wasn't doing much of anything, was wearing clothing and my heart was beating in an unfettered fashion.  I did as I was told.  I moved my car long before it was time for our spaces to be cleared and was well out of the way.  The plow arrived in our lot, the horn was blasted several times, and plowing commenced.  No one else moved their cars except for The Quiet Guy On The First Floor Who Nobody Really Knows.  And he was up before dawn to take care of that.  

The Young Couple Who Thought It Would Be A Good Idea To Install Sub Woofers Two Feet Under My Sofa waited until the plows were leaving and then strolled out to move their cars.  Nice try.  Too little, too late.  

The Kid Next Door Who's Dad Has Left For Parts Unknown And Who Is 18 Now So No One Can Tell Him What To Do just left his heap where it was.  He doesn't even get points for effort.  He will, however, be sure to move it sometime tonight so it is blocking me in tomorrow morning.  I know this from personal experience.

As my space sits in between these two delightful neighbors, it was left unplowed.

It has been four hours since the plows first came.  My car is still sitting in a snowbank over by The Dumpster Where The Zombies Live.  It is dark.  The plows, probably having decided to Teach Us All A Very Important Life Lesson, have not returned for a second try.  

We will all soon be subjected to another memo from the Board.  It will be taped to my door.  I will read it calmly.  I will leave it there as I have done with all the others.  I will then completely and utterly lose my mind.  It will be an epic loss of mind.  It will be one for the ages.  Years from now, people will still be telling the story of The Lady Who Went Nuts Over A Chastising Memo And Was Found Making Vaguely Obscene Snow Angels In Her Unplowed Parking Space.

Waiting for snow removal is a good incentive for getting stuff done around hearth and home, though.  It's either sit at the windows and watch for plows or sit and the spinning wheel and listen for plows.  The latter choice seemed like the one that might keep my sanity intact for a bit longer.  That way I can save my energy for the upcoming and very epic Memo-Related Loss Of Mind.

The pretty alpaca roving was plied up while I kept my ears perked for potential plow visits.  Since I only started this project yesterday, I do believe that we can call this a Record Time.  

OK...so it's only four ounces.  Not exactly a mammoth task.  But still...

Now that I look at it in pixel form, I can see that the color in the image is a bit washed out.  Which is, ironically, what I had to do a great deal of once the spinning was over and done.  The purple dyes in this fiber were used with wild abandon and my fingers still bear just the slightest hint of grape-ish-ness.  Once off the bobbin, the skein was given a good wash in Synthrapol, then a vinegar rinse.  The latter wasn't exactly necessary as there was little color left in the rinse water, but I was on a roll at that point.  I was A Girl With A Plan and could see no good reason for deviating from my course.  Plus I had time to kill anyway, right?  Several rinses later, the yarn no longer smelled like a well-dressed salad and is now hanging to dry, probably relieved to have the whole fiasco over and done with.

I like my yarn to know who is boss.  Since I am clearly in no position to control anything else in my life, it makes me feel better to know that something will live in fear of me.

With that project out of the way, I even managed to get another lot of fiber started.  I figured I might as well.  It was either that or sit at the window and see if plows begin converging.

Now, however, I find myself on the horns of a dilemma.  Darkness has fallen.  The car still sits over by The Dumpster Where The Zombies Live.  Do I go get it now and worry the whole time about suddenly seeing a grey, clutching hand reach out from the depths of the refuse?  Or do I just leave it there until the morning and get it when I leave for work?  I'll still have to worry the whole time about the clutching, grey hand since I leave for the morning commute before sunrise, but at least I'll have put the whole matter off for a few hours.  

It's a conundrum.  I don't know quite what to do.

The Big, Fluffy Kitty has offered to have a "word" with The Plow Guys.

C'mere.  I just wanna "discuss" the situation.  

I'm giving serious thought to taking her up on her offer...

SA

You Gotta Recognize.

My phone rang around 7:00 Thursday night.  As I was a bit tardy sending out the car payment this month (not by much, but they are rather touchy about these sorts of things at my lending institution...), I assumed it was a reminder call from The People Hired To Worry About This Stuff.  

I was mistaken.

The caller was actually The World's Greatest Stylist And Life Coach.  Back in November, with a brake repair bill on the horizon, I opted to cancel my regular appointment.  Then, as these things sometimes go, I forgot to reschedule it.  Frankly, with holiday spending also having been necessary, it was the last thing on my mind.  

I'm a regular in her chair and don't normally miss an appointment.  TWGSALC became concerned and decided to call and check to make sure that I wasn't trapped under the sofa or anything.  I assured her that I was fine and that I would be in to visit very, very soon to deal with the Messes Of Tresses I've got going on here.  

I don't think she believed me.  You can't blame her, really.  She lived through the Root Canal Gone Horribly Wrong Of '05 and The Great Monkey Pox Debacle Of '06 (which was really pneumonia but Monkey Pox sounds more dramatic...).  We'd only known each other for a short time at that point, but she had the privilege of seeing me go from a normal sort of human being to a gaunt, sickly, pathetic creature.  I had a pulse and was walking upright.  But only just...

Now, she worries about me.  

That is a very nice thing, if you think about it.  I felt sort of badly for not keeping her up to date on matters over here.  How many people can say that they have a lovely, diminutive Chinese woman who will not only do their hair, but also forcibly drag them out for lunch in order to make them eat something?  

It's a kindness, that's for certain.  And it occurred to me that all of the projects upon which I am currently working are also of a kindly gifted nature.  Since today seems to have been a spinning sort of day, why don't we take a look at some of the things that have been sent my way from friends far and near?

Well over a year ago, Cathy sent me two very lovely fleeces.  The first was a gi-normous merino and expected as we'd discussed it.  The second, however, was a surprise!  A sweet, little Shetland lamb fleece was tucked into the box along with all that merino.  It washed up like a dream and the color was simply lovely.  I spent several summer days working on it, but couldn't quite seem to bring myself to put it to the wheel once it was prepped.  I didn't want to ruin it!

Then, last spring, inspiration arrived in the mail!  Kat put together a rather amazing prize package for me and there, nestled in with lots of other goodies, was an impressive amount of Bombyx silk!  And what, pray tell, could be more perfectly suited to a nice, soft lamb fleece?  I broke out the drum carder and blended as if my very life depended upon it!

OK.  So it still took me a while.  But, better late than never, right?  I finished up the plying last night, under the watchful eye of the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty.  While his tendency to try and chew the yarn every time I stopped to take a break was less than helpful, I do credit him with forcing me to finish it all up.  I didn't dare to leave it unattended overnight. 

While the final skein took its warm bath, I got to thinking about the last little bit of spun fiber left on the bobbin.  I never seem to plan these things out quite right and hate to waste what's there.  Then I noticed another bobbin on the back of the lazy kate, also with some leftovers upon it.  When I spun up the angora that Beth sent me last summer, I'd found myself in a similar lopsided situation and had simply left the excess on the bobbin to deal with later.  

Since the wheel was out and I wasn't doing much of anything else, I decided that I would officiate a marriage between these two lonely fibers.  I'm not really licensed to do that, but I figure no one will ever check...

Shetland blend on the left, Angora/Shetland Hybrid on the right.  I know pronounce them Fiber And Yarn.

There is still a little bit of the Shetland left unspun and certainly enough of the silk left to blend with it.  But I was feeling the need to do something a little bit different.  Just for a change of pace, you see.  So I wandered over to the stash and discovered a lovely alpaca roving that Ronnie sent me last February.  It seems that I've had a bit of a running theme with the alpaca over the last couple of weeks.  Who am I to mess with a theme?  I'd already performed an illegal marriage.  I decided to play it safe and do as the fates intended.

If the universe wants me to spin the 'paca, then that is what I will do.  You don't tempt fate too many times...

This stuff is like buttah!  And, while I love spinning fiber that I've prepped myself, there is something rather decadent about working with a nicely prepared roving.  It's like it spins itself!  So much so that I fear there is a wee bit of rampant over-spinning in places.  I'll work that out in the plying process, never fear.  I get carried away with the twist all the time.  I'm used to forcing it to unclench...

Yes, I am a lucky Sheepie to have been so kindly treated!  I have lots of happy pursuits in which to engage this weekend and it is all thanks to the nice people!  It also looks like I will have ample time with which to play.  The upcoming weather patterns do not look like ones that will inspire me to do much of anything involving "outside."

Snow...frigid temps...I am so totally not going out there!

It's nice to know that I can remain happily inside where there is cable TV and lots and lots of nice wool to keep me warm.  Of course, I can't stay in the house forever.  Eventually, I'm going to have to go out.  I do have to work for a living come Monday and I suppose I would eventually get hungry once the food ran out.

More importantly, I also recognize the need to make a hair appointment.  And not just because I cut my own bangs...

SA

You Think That's What You Want...

Those of us who spin are often alone in this world.  Let's face it...outside our own little circle, there aren't many who "get" what we do.  It can be a rather solitary sort of existence.  

(Insert Pensive Expression Here)

When we do find others of our kind, it is a happy day!  And to think that one might someday actually have roommates who share a love of all things wheeled or woolly?  Well, that is just too good to be true, golly-gosh-'n-darn-it-all!

(Insert Gleeful Giggling Here)

Except that it isn't always exactly what you'd pictured.  Any thoughts you may have had around hours and hours of wool production and communal spinning are mere fantasy in some cases.  My own roommates are most invested in the spinning.  They love it.  And it is not at all helpful to me.  

I cannot even get to my wheel these days.  It is not even worth trying.  The ongoing standoff over who gets to snooze in the spinning chair is getting ugly.

That is a crossfire through which you don't want to find yourself meandering.

This rather tense situation has put me significantly behind in the plying.  There is still quite a bit of Shetland/Silk left to twist up.  I'd promised myself to wait for pictures until it was all done.  At this rate, though, I question whether that is ever going to be possible.  It seemed best that I snap a few shots of the single skein to my credit at this point and then hope that the resident felines take up some other hobby in the near future.  I don't much care what they choose.  They can become professional skeet shooters if they want to.  

It'd probably be less dangerous...

Resigned to my single-skein-state, I dutifully twisted it up all purty-like and laid out the photo-snappin' cloth.  I carefully arranged the precious bit of wool that represents the generous spirit of Cathy The Amazing Wool Gatherer, reached for the camera and snapped that first picture:

At first, I failed to see that little bit of white on the right of the frame....

But then that "little bit of white" became something more along the lines of "a big, orange and white obstruction."  I knew then that one of my wool-loving roommates had decided to help out with this next part of the spinning process.

It was kind of hard to miss.  We don't call him The Absurdly Gi-Normous Kitty for nothing, after all.

My assistant then began to fuss with the yarn and to adjust it a bit.  Who knew that my big, galumphing galoot of a cat had the soul of an arteest?

I guess he just hadn't found his milieu until recently...

Finally, he pronounced the set "ready."  I was instructed to proceed with the shoot.  

So I did.  

I guess I did say that I wanted them to get hobbies.  But I was really thinking of something more along the lines of "things that will get them out of my way so I can spin."  Photography and Set Design are nice pastimes.  In fact, they might even lead to a great career for the AGK.  He could support his mother in her golden years.  

But I kind of miss being able to spin.

SA

And The Final Verdict (in wnbp format)...

I woke up this morning not really knowing just what the day would bring.  There seemed to be more in the way of activity outside in the world of weather than I'd originally thought so it certainly seemed possible that there might be a snow day in the making.  I struggled my way out of the blankets and past eight million sleeping kitties to see what the verdict might be.

Sure enough, the news was scrolling my school district's name across the screen right when I turned on the television.  No school for Sheepie.  That is always sort of a mixed blessing.  Any day off from the teaching responsibilities is something to celebrate.  But it is still rather early in the season and I would like to see the end of this school year at some point.  They can't keep me past the end of June, but still...

However, I feel it is very important to take what life gives you and make the most of it.  If the universe decided that I was going to be staying home today, then I supposed I should go ahead and get jiggy with it.  

Here's your Wednesday Night Bullet Post with a side of Snow Day:

*I'm rather glad I put out the waffle mix last night.

*There is nothing better than a waffle on a wintry morn when you have the time to make them.

*It is also rather nice to tuck a few in the freezer so that waffling can continue into the future with a minimum of fuss.

*I watched the pandas for a while:

Panda-Cam...I loves me some pandas!!!

*They were up early this morning.  It was something like 3:00 a.m. when I first tuned in.  Every once in a while, a panda would wander groggily by the cameras.

*Probably going to the bathroom or remembering that they forgot to turn off the outside lights before going to bed...

*Fabulous lines:  

"Johnny really discovered the cemetery after he'd started living at Granddad's.  This was Phase Three of Trying Times, after the shouting, which had been bad, and the Being Sensible About Things (which had been worse; people are better at shouting).  Now his dad was getting a new job somewhere on the other side of the country.  There was a vague feeling that it might all work out, now that people had stopped trying to be sensible.  On the whole, he tried not to think about it."

*Terry Pratchett's  Johnny And The Dead...snagged it from the school library.  A lovely way to kill some time on a snow day!

*I finished a Happy Pink Sock:

Because on a dark and dreary sort of day, you just can't not love a pink sock!

*Lorna's Laces is rather skinny yarn, I've found.  So I knit this on size 2s.  

*Oddly, it's a little bit big.  But in a good way.  

*Pink Socks That Are Happy should be a bit big, I think.  

*More of the Happy...

*Big Fluffy Kitty demonstrating her strategy for dealing with inclement weather:

She is teaching an on-line course in Advanced Nestling through a local university if anyone is interested.

*I did not ply any Shetland.

*A few days ago, the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty happened to notice the BFK napping in the spinning chair.

*He looked about as surprised as anyone I've ever seen.

*This was followed by "delight."  As in, "OMG, I never thought of that!!!"

*This, in turn was followed by a great deal of Sister Bothering.

Now I can't ply.

*Turnabout it fair play, I suppose.  It's not like I remembered to clean the litter box today.  And I vacuumed.  Which is not something that is really appreciated around here.

*However, in my defense, the vacuuming was necessary.  The AGK has gotten all 'splody.

*I've seen dogs do this.  And I guess I knew cats did it.  I've just never seen it so up close and personal.

*Kitty gets exponentially fluffier.  Then, without warning....PWOOF!!!!

*Fur literally flies.  It's everywhere.  It's like he's lost his factory undercoating or something...

*The BFK just gets mats.  That is also unpleasant, but you don't have to vacuum as much.

*I hope to do some plying before bed tonight.  

*But I need to be in bed early.  Every day can't be a snow day.  Tomorrow I must head back to work.

*And I just remembered that I also have morning bus duty.  Gah!!!

So there you go!  Sheepie's snow day!  Once you decide to just sit back and enjoy the ride instead of complaining about the detour, it can be rather pleasant.  You almost don't even notice that there is ice falling from the sky or how the plows that you pay to clear out your parking space drive away when you go out to move your car.  (They did come back later and all is well now, though)

Now that I think of it, why can't every day be a snow day?  

SA

Stupid Sheep In A Hole.

There is a storm on the way.  This, in and of itself, can raise the anxiety level a bit.  The Wizards Of Weather made the merest mention of sleet and freezing rain early in the day today and that was enough to send people into a tizzy.  It wasn't too long ago that we were all sitting in the dark and watching the ice slowly encase us.  Some folks in the area where I teach were without power for a week.  

You can see how suddenly everyone might be thinking more about their generators and how much fuel they have stocked up to keep it running.

Adding to the distraction-level was the fact that there was no real definitive statement regarding how and when this storm was going to impact us.  Frankly, it didn't look like much at points.  But, for those of us trying to figure out if we are going to have school tomorrow, it meant frequent dashes to our laptops so that we could see just how much snow/ice/impending doom we were going to get.

I wasn't really all that invested.  I had other problems.  It seems that I need to do a little self-examination, perhaps go on some sort of retreat where I can sit in solitude and contemplate my flaws.  I am now aware of the following:

1.  I am stupid.

2.  I should die in a hole somewhere

3.  I am most decidedly oversensitive to people telling me the aforementioned and that I need to lighten up instead of flinging about consequences all willy-nilly like someone who really has cause to feel slighted.

Approaching low pressure systems have never been kind to me.  The kids in my class were antsy, grumpy and easily moved to flagrant expressions of opinion.  Since I was the one standing at the front of the room and making unreasonable demands (such as "please sit down," "do your math," and, "you need to stop throwing torn up bits of eraser at your classmates), I was the logical target for their ire.

It should also be noted that the detailed descriptions of my character flaws were not from one person.  The statement regarding my intelligence was mentioned fairly early in the day.  Later, another individual chose to discuss my hole-worthiness.  The third item seemed to be more along the lines of "general consensus" and came up one or two times throughout the school day.

That's OK.  I've been doing this for a while.  I know that this is going to be an issue when things go wonky in the atmosphere.  Not that I condone the behavior.  I just expect it and have learned how best to deal with it.  I'm a veteran.  My skin is pretty thick.  

Which is good since it is probably going to be a little chilly down in that hole once the snow starts falling...

I can't really say for certain just how this storm is going to affect my day tomorrow.  It wouldn't shock me to find that I have the day off.  Nor would I be surprised to find that I am expected to skid my way into school so that I can hear more about how I don't measure up to the standards of the average teenager.  Heck, we could end up going in and then getting sent home.  It's a tough call.

Just to be safe, I'm planning for all eventualities.  The coffee is set to start at 5:00 tomorrow. I think I've put together something to wear that will not embarrass me too badly once the sun comes up and I can actually see what I look like. On the other end of the spectrum,  I've also snagged a couple of new books from the school library and put the waffle mix out where I can get to it easily should breakfast at home be an option.  

Then there is The Happy Pink Sock, not to mention The Shetland That Is Almost Real Yarn.  In the event that I am home for the day, I think I will be easily and most happily occupied.  I'm all set regardless of the final decision regarding the school day.

Unless, of course, I end up in a hole.  I do not have a plan for that.  Who does, really?

SA

The First Monday

I think that the first Monday back from the school vacation can best be encapsulated by Social Studies class today.  SS is kind of a weird class on Mondays since half the kids are with the social worker during that time.  I teach the class.  Then I send the kiddies over to the other room when we are done and proceed teach the same thing all over again with the other half of the class.  Weird.  But today was even more weird.  More weirder.  Most weirdest, if you want the truth.

First Conversation That Had Nothing Whatsoever To Do With Social Studies

Cute Little Kid And Also The Only Sixth Grader In The Class:  Ms. Sheep!  I don't get number 4!!!  Hey!  Hey!!!  I don't get number 4!!!  Help!!!  The people who wrote this book forgot to tell us about number 4!!!

Ms. Sheep:  Yes, Dear Heart?  Are you having difficulty?  I shall hasten directly to your side and provide you with any and all assistance that is within my power to give.  I live to serve, Darling Boy.

(note:  It may not have come out exactly like that.  I may have said something more along the lines of, "Oh for crying out loud...I've already given the answer to that one fifty times and all you have to do is write down what I say!  You can see me, right?  I exist in your version of the universe, do I not?  Just put down the same answer I've given already!!!!!"  But I'm certain that he knew I meant to say that other thing about him being a darling and all....)

MS:  (proceeds to outline the information necessary to print the correct answer to number 4...again.)...and so now you can see that these were really the first indications that a civil war was soon to happen and...

CLKAATOSGITC:  (face lights up like like a blazing beacon) Hey!!!

MS:  Yes, sweetheart?  Have you had an epiphany of sorts?  Do you now fully comprehend the horror and significance that was the American Civil War?

CLKAATOSGITC:  No.  I smell donuts!!!!

There were no donuts and I did not in any way appreciate his having led me to believe that there were.  He was either hallucinating donuts or just trying to torture me because he somehow knows that it is the New Year and that I must now live on celery in order that I might someday button my jeans again.

Second Conversation That Had Nothing Whatsoever To Do With Social Studies:

Ms. Sheep is still waxing educational on the harbingers of civil war.  She does this knowing full well that none of them care.  They all just want to go to lunch.  They don't have to eat celery, you see.  Lunch still has meaning for them.

Kid Who Enjoys Saying Things To Get Me Totally And Hopelessly Off-Topic:  Hey, Ms. Sheep?  Did you just see a mushroom?

Kid Who Has The Enviable Ability To Really See The Joy In Life:  (looks at KWESTTGMTAHOT strangely, but cannot help cracking a smile)

Ms. Sheep:  No.  I did not see a mushroom.  Did you, by any chance, take one just now?

Joy-Boy:  (Falls helplessly to the floor, clutching his stomach and roaring with unchecked laughter)

I like to keep them a little off balance.  It helps me maintain just the slightest edge in a classroom where I am outnumbered and under-appreciated.  

We all survived the first day back, but I feared for my very sanity after ten or twelve more conversations of a similar nature.  Once the kids had cleared to the building so they could go back home and bother their real mommies and daddies for a while, I took a minute (or thirty) to enter a few grades then fled.  There was little left to salvage from this day.  The only thing you can do with a First Monday Back At School After Vacation is to let it dwindle down to its conclusion.  They aren't supposed to be good.  They are meant to be endured.

However...

For every rule, there is an exception.  That's just the way rules are, you know.  And every once in a while, you are pleasantly surprised by one of those exceptions.

I tend to avoid the mail after midweek.  The mail brings bills and other sorts of unpleasant things.  I like to leave them to marinate for a few days before retrieving them.  The bills get to rest after their long journey and I get to enjoy my weekend.  Of course, the Monday Mailbox visit is often unpleasant as a result.  But today, there was more than the usual well-rested bills in the mail.  There was a key to the Big Mailbox That Holds Packages!

Back during those halcyon days of vacation, I got an email from Mia asking if I might be interested in taking a bit of alpaca yarn off her hands.  I, being a good sport and one who loves alpaca, said that I would be glad to give it a new home.  Who wouldn't want a couple of skeins of that soft, squishy goodness living in the stash?  The box arrived today.  It was not a couple of skeins of alpaca.

It was five skeins of alpaca!!!!  FIVE!!!!!!

That's, like, a pound of 'paca!  And, if you do the math, you will easily realize that five skeins of alpaca is just enough to balance out a First Monday Back At School After Vacation.  It's actually enough to tip the scales in favor of "happy."  It is now a very, very good day.  Thanks so much, Mia!  You are a treasure and a mathematical day-balancing genius!!!

It was even better than a donut.  Seriously.  

SA

Monday Looms, Pandas Must Wait

Vacations are funny things. They are the very definition of "illusion."  When you are waiting for them to arrive, they shine like a beacon in the distance, so very far away.  They seem like a magical time and all you can do is think about the amazing things you will accomplish during those golden days.

When vacation arrives, it feels like you have all the time in the world.  You can take a day or two to decompress.  There are hours and hours during which you can take care of all those things you said you were going to do back when "vacation" was naught but a glimpse of Things To Come.

Suddenly, however, it is Sunday night.  You haven't done anywhere near to what you said you were going to do.  Heck, you haven't even done some of the things that you really, really need to do if you are going to be able to find your way out the door come the next morning.  I hate the last Sunday of vacation.  It's like a marathon.  And it's the kind of race you aren't going to win now matter how hard you try.

My own version of The OMIGOD What Was I Thinking Wasting All That Time On The Sofa Watching The Panda-Cam At The San Diego Zoo???? panic was just as frantic as every other Sunday I've spent before going back to work.  The list of stuff to do just kept growing!  

There were also one or two hazards along the way.  I discovered a rather gaping tear in the garbage bag when I hoisted it out of the can this morning.  Said tear was easily identified by the reeking chicken juices that were leaking from it.  I managed to get it into another bag, but not before smearing myself liberally with the death goo.  As I was on my way out the door to gas up the car, I didn't bother to change.  But I have to say that it was a very, very good thing there were no cadaver sniffing dogs working in the vicinity of The Convenience Store Where They Call You Honey And Sweetie And You Sort Of Like That.  The poor critters would have been driven mad trying to find the decomposing corpse...

By the time I got home, I had a headache.  Plus I left my soda in the car and had to go back outside with my Chicken Reek to retrieve it.  I took a break after that to look at the pandas some more.  

Pandas relax me...

In spite of my best efforts, I really didn't get it all done.  Nor do I believe that I will be able to do so before bedtime arrives.  That's OK.  Thanks to the soothing influence of the pandas, I am now better able to accept my limitations and realize that my having lolled on the couch for a week and a half is really nobody's fault but my own.  And it's not like I didn't get anything done at all.

I roasted up a chicken last night for dinners this week.  Then, today, I made a nice zucchini casserole to pop in the freezer for those days when I can't stand the sight of the chicken anymore.

It's almost like a quiche except that it's sort of not.  In fact, it's totally not.  But it kind of seems like it...

Various things that needed washing were washed, including my coat because the thought of being in the car with the Chicken Stink on me tomorrow morning is unbearable.  The travel mug and thermos were located so that they will be ready to go come 6:00 tomorrow morning.  The coffee maker is programmed to go off at the appointed hour.  I've managed to find the one outfit which will accommodate my temporary holiday girth and keep the extra bits of Sheep contained until I can find a way to shed those extra pounds.  I think I might actually be able to leave the house tomorrow on time and clad.  No promises or anything.  But I have a good feeling about it.

I even had time to pop in one last movie and knit upon my Very Pink Sockie for a bit.  The heel is turned, the gussets are gusseted and footage has commenced.  Heck, I even found a minute or two to visit with fiber of a less "finished" variety:

Plied Shetland Lamb And Silk...

A wee bit of spindled alpaca...

Yes, the end of a vacation is a sad thing.  All the more so for my having deluded myself into believing that it was endless.  However, by my calculations, it is a mere few weeks until the next three day weekend.  And then it is but a short hop to the February break.  I can probably hang in there until then.  It's not so far away.

And we all know that the week off in February is the one where I can really get lots of stuff done.  It's like magic.

This vacation was just for practice.  And pandas...

SA

Not An Evil Resident...Just Troublesome.

I awoke this chilly morning and stumbled out of bed to find the living room curtains most decidedly askew.  I, of course, assumed that I had simply not managed to wake up enough to see things in a level manner and rubbed my eyes accordingly.  This is what one does in these situations.

This did not help my perception one little bit.  There was still something of an issue with my living room draperies.  Upon further inspection, I discovered that the fabric was most certainly not as I'd left it the previous evening.  In fact, neither was the curtain rod.  It was sharply bent in the middle and barely supporting the insulated shades I'd purchased to keep out the winter drafts.  

There was a saboteur amongst us!  And one with not only the means to hang from draped fabric, but with the girth to make it inadvisable!  

The suspect was quickly identified and interrogated most vigorously.  He bore up pretty well under this process.

One cannot help but wonder if he has had some sort of Special Ops training or something.  He was cool under pressure.  The resident interrogation team (me) could not break him.

In spite of admitting nothing, the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty did have a bit of a hang-dog look for much of the morning.  In a cat, that is something of a feat, really.  This did nothing to help with the curtain situation whatsoever, nor did it make up for the fact that I spent twenty minutes balancing precariously in the rocking recliner trying to get them back up in a configuration something sort of resembling what they'd looked like back when life was good and the curtain rods were unsullied.

I suppose this is why I felt little to no guilt over spending the afternoon watching a movie.  I realized yesterday that I've had a rather lengthy holiday vacation from school, but that I'd not watched a single Zombie Apocalypse Preparedness Training Film.  That is simply unacceptable!  

Of course, we all know that Sheepie likes her zombie flicks.  They give me joy and a feeling of control in a world that could, at any moment, be overrun with the shambling dead.  Even more than this happiness, though, is the wild rush that comes from purchasing one of these gems on the cheap.  This is why it was so out of character for me to pony up the dollars to purchase a relatively new one at full price while I was out yesterday.  I sort of felt like I'd done something wrong when Resident Evil: Degeneration found its way into my cart...

And yet, the universe somehow found a way to even things out.  Curtains: trashed by an unrepentant kitty.  New And Shrink Wrapped DVD:  perfectly justified.

This CGI version of Resident Evil is based firmly in the video game series of the same name and bears only a token resemblance to the live action RE movies.  I wasn't a huge fan of the game back in the days when I was more invested in those sorts of things.  I liked them for the genre, but found that I preferred games that gave me a little more time to investigate my surroundings a bit before sending in someone to chew my legs off.  A girl needs to get her bearings, after all.  Maybe even have a chance to locate a weapon or something...

R.E.D. stays quite true to the games, though.  It's really less about survival skills than it is about tracking down the evil government/corporate conspiracy behind this horrific turn of plague-type events.  Computer generated imagery is often unkind to viewers when it comes to facial features matching dialogue and this was no exception.  But it was really quite well done and the plot wasn't sacrificed to the special effects.  Good movie, very good, indeed!

I sure do wish it'd had more zombies, though.  ::sigh::

I consoled myself with some knitting while I watched.  That always helps to make sense of a world gone mad with evil viruses, a marked lack of zombies and curtains that keep sliding off the totally-not-level-now rod.

When in doubt, flap a sock.  You'll feel better.

Of course, it probably would have been better had I not forgotten to slip the stitches on the purl side of the flap.  Comfort knitting probably shouldn't involve tinking back.  But, all in all, it was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon and I regret nothing.

We can only hope that the suspected ringleader of the Drapery Terrorist Cell is not quite so blase and self-satisfied.  Until I can replace that bent rod, the curtains are in a tenuous situation, at best.  We are in sort of an Elevated Alert Situation around here.

Some days I think it would be easier to just battle the zombies...

SA

Poor Portents

If the first day of 2009 is any indication of things to come, then expect me to be living in a cardboard box by February.  I've no doubt that I will be jobless, wearing ziplock bags for shoes and seeing little to no need to bathe more than once every two weeks or so.  I've been something of a sloth today, I fear.

I didn't even bother setting the alarm, something I do even if I don't have to get up and go anywhere.  I hate to waste the mornings, since I find that to be the most productive time of the day for me.  Once I finally found the will to extricate myself from the covers, I shuffled about the manse with little or no urge to do anything to completion.  It took me twenty minutes to finish getting the coffee fixin's together so the machine could start brewing it for me.  I drank one cup, but couldn't quite work up the energy necessary to return to the kitchen for more.  Had kitties not seen fit to shame me into leaving the comfort of the sofa to feed them, I don't think I would have bothered to fix lunch for myself.  There was a nice little bowl of Hershey's Kisses right there on the coffee table and that seemed like enough in the way of sustenance.

If I hadn't taken down the Christmas tree, I don't think I could honestly say that I did much of anything today.  I probably should get a great deal of "doing stuff" credit for that, though.  The Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty was either trying to be helpful or impede the process so that he could keep his tree.  Either way, the process was not an easy one.  

It had to be done, though.  He'd taken to unplugging it.  As there is no way he could get to where the outlet lives, I can't imagine that this new hobby was in any way safe or good for the rest of us who have to live here.  Tree Time was over.  Kitties pulling plugs is the first sign...

Don't worry about the AGK in '09, though.  He has lots to keep him busy.  For example, should I happen to stop spinning for a minute to answer the phone, there will be the subtle rustling of a plastic liner bag and then this will be what I see when I glance over while I chat:

You can't even see the fiber anymore...

A cat in the spinning basket is not going to help me to get anything done, now is it?  I'm already working at a disadvantage what with all the laziness!

I suppose all this lethargy is related to my New Year's Eve revels. Rarely do I bother to read the promotional emails that find their way to my in-box, but when Amazon offered me the chance to view My Name Is Bruce on the 31st and ahead of its video release date, I couldn't resist. I reserved my copy and made certain to start it late enough so that I would be watching it when '08 morphed into '09.

MNIB is fun, spoofy, campy little movie with lots and lots of themed references for fans to pick up on. Bruce's ex-wife is played by the actress who performed the role of Cheryl in Evil Dead. Jake from Evil Dead 2 also makes an appearance along with "the blacksmith" from Army Of Darkness. And there is, of course, the obligatory presence of Ted Raimi just to make certain that we all feel grounded in the genre. In fact, he plays multiple roles.

You kind of have to be a fan to get some of the subtle stuff. ("Shemp" is not really a brand name for any bottled alcohol...) But it is still quite fun and was worth suffering through the streaming video that we Mac users must accept as the best Amazon will do for us. (PC users can download...lucky devils!) I enjoyed it immensely and will probably pick up a copy once it is released.

But all this happy movie viewing did make for a late night and I was up well past the midnight hour. I suppose this is why I'm such a slug today. Maybe this isn't a sign of things to come in '09. I probably just need a good night's sleep and then I'll be ready to go for the next 365.

Let's hope so anyway.  That little dish of Hershey's Kisses on the coffee table isn't going to last forever and then I'll really need to get off this couch if I don't want to starve...

SA