Crochetville knitting class

It's depressing to watch Fiona knit row after row of pretty work while my stuff inches along. So I signed up for a class on how to knit Continental style on the crochetville.com site. I have tried to teach myself with poor results, but the instructor, Kim, has gotten me going.

We've learned knit and purl - and it IS faster. Love this style of knitting. I practiced most of the afternoon Saturday, then started a project. Decided to make a pair of wrist warmers to match the garter-stitch scarf I started for the class. Cast on 24 and did knit 2 purl 2 for 25 rows. Then I switched to knit, added two stitches on the first row and three on the second row to compensate for the width of my hand. When I finished, I stitched up the side, leaving a hole for my thumb and and pretty pleased.

This yarn is an alpaca-cotton blend, kind of bulky, but really soft and warm. It doesn't do justice to the stitches so I'll have to do some more in a yarn that will better show off the ribbing. Check out the photos!


Ugly-snuggly wrist warmer for a fat arm....

knit 2 purl 2 for 25 rows
knit row 26 yarn over to add two stitches
knit row 27 yarn over to add 3 stitches
knit 6 more rows and cast off.


Stitch up one side, leaving an opening for your thumb in the garter stitch part.






Be warm!

Trouble on the Rainbow Bridge

Many vets have judged Trouble worthy of her name. She came to us when she was about three years old and had originally been called "Precious." After multiple disasters which included the flooding of her family's kitchen when she bit a hole in the water hose that fed the fridge ice maker, she was renamed.

We loved Trouble from the first day she was with us. She was never an easy cat, but she was always fun and pushed us to be the best humans she could make us.

She hasn't been feeling well lately, and became obviously sick on July 4, at age 14. We took her to the cat ER where she was gassed unto submission - no vet has ever been able to examine a conscious Trouble. The vet on duty showed us that Trouble had cancer covering one side of her tongue going back into her throat, so we just sent her on to the Rainbow Bridge without ever having to wake up to more pain.

It's so hard to say goodbye to a friend. I hope someone loves me enough to send me over the bridge when I get too sick to enjoy my life. Sleep sweetly, my little Trouble girl.

Cat harmony

In an attempt to create peace in the cat clan (as easy and simple as lasting peace in the Middle East), we have thrown open the door to the downstairs and fixed the cat door to allow cats in but not out. That allows Miss White to be plunked outside when she wants to go out and she can come back in the cat door to escape from the evil neighborhood boxer or rain. It keeps Cricket and the other indoor cats from getting out.

With the entire downstairs available for roaming, tension has lessened a bit. Sweetie Pie is now coming out of the kitchen cabinets to at least sit on the counters. Pansy has returned to the back of Mom's chair in the living room. Cricket goes everywhere and Hummer seems to be happy staying upstairs. Miss White is terrified of Hummer and acts as if she doen't know what a kitten is.

Maybe we can all just get along - and I can keep Cricket. It's so nice to have a cat who lets me brush her long hair - closest I'll ever get to a daughter.

Cat juggling

Wade and James have fallen in love with the kitten, but we have reached cat population overload. Since Miss White is so darned mean and has to be isolated from the other cats, half the house, the entire finished basement, is not available for the other cats. The upstairs is large - big living room, dining room kitchen, hall, 4 bedrooms and 3 baths. That is still too small for 5 cats when fear crowds in.

Who am I trying to fool? Enough of this silliness. Pansy, Sweetie Pie, and Miss White can all take cat Xanax. Cricket stays.

Hummer needs a home

A tiny, warm, purring ball of soft fur is on my shoulder, nuzzling my neck. It has been a long time since I've had a cat who could fit under my chin.

Linda Askins rescued this little girl and tracked me down to help her find a home. A couple of folks have expressed interest, but I may be in trouble. I love her already.

I'll piece together a kitty video, but until then, enjoy uncut footage.

Intel Teach Essentials - Day One

Enjoyable learning experience! I decided to sit in this Technology-in-Motion-sponsored class presented by Intel and taught by our very own Robert Mayben. I've heard all sorts of great things about the course and would like to know what our Tuscaloosa City School teachers are doing to integrate technology into their classrooms.

Hoping it would put me more in touch with our real life classrooms, I've plopped myself down here at Central High School to listen and learn. Didn't expect to actually think new thoughts, but that has happened, too. So much that I won't have time in this 15-minute activity section to explore ideas, but I promise myself I'll do so tonight. Hope I keep that promise.

My job makes me FAT

So nowadays, is being fat a weakness, a sin, or an illness?

I've always figured I get fat because I like to eat ten-cookie stacks of Strawberry Milkshake Oreos, entire jars of guacamole dip, towers of Texas toast.... You know, sufficient quantity of stuff that tastes good.

I have met skinny people who will eat one cookie and pretend that's all they want.

Liars.

It's impossible.

Just one celery stick - ok. That's do-able. But when food is laden with sugar and fat, a normal person will elbow aside his or her fellow beings and FEED. This natural, pure behavior is obvious before we are burdened with the expectations of society.

Put a cookie down between two hungry toddlers and watch what happens. Now try it with a piece of lettuce. After the initial taste, which will become a slobbery object of contention and which will be dropped in the dirt and trodden underfoot?

Over the last few years, I've been so pleased to discover my weight isn't actually due to gluttony. I'm fat because of viruses, genetics, screwy medical problems, my state of mind, drugs, because doctors lied to me, and other interesting causes.

Mainly, however, I blame my job. My profession requires that I hunker over a computer keyboard all day with my only movement being an occasional, full-body fear-twitch when the phone shrills in my ear. Since I've been working in this position for a year now, and since the position involves me not changing my position, I've gained 15 pounds. I have not gotten any taller. Just more round.

I've also discovered that the 50-something body does not retain fluidity after maintaining the same pose for several hours. Instead of unfolding gracefully from my chair, stretching, and bounding like a gazelle to the ladies room, I push back from the desk, straighten my legs and lurch upwards and sideways, staggering and scrabbling at the desktop to maintain my balance with the musical accompaniment of cascading CD's, pens, hand-sanitizer, and scissors. I limp to the ladies room. The return trip involves dragging myself up along the stair rail accompanied by upper body muscle strain and rotator cuff tears. When I went to the doc a few weeks ago with hip pain, she cheerfully told me I have congenital hip dysplasia - I thought only dogs got that. I never had hip weirdness before I took this job, congenital or not.

So last weekend, I bought a Sunbeam kitchen timer at Wal-Mart. It ticks like a cartoon bomb and has an old-fashioned alarm-clock clapper. Loud and scary as hell.

Every 58 minutes or so, I levitate out of the chair, startled and adrenilized, to reach for my lower extremities and attempt body twists. As my spine regains the ability to bend more than 30 degrees, I plan to add some tai chi and yoga, but no scrabbling about on the floor which has not been cleaned in the year I've worked here. My heart rate spikes sharply when that alarm goes off so I know my pulse rate is being elevated. Surely this much additional movement will encourage weight loss - unless....

Wonder if being frightened make you fat?