At least he noticed

the setting: a cold winter afternoon in an unremarkable Tacoma neighborhood.

The husband: Hey, you got your hair done! You look like Velma! ... What? Why are you looking at me like that? Was that the wrong thing to say? I like Velma! I think she's cute!

now we're even

Seamus was stretched out along the floor next to the sofa and I freaked the poor dog out by accidentally stepping on the end of his pizzle while trying to seat myself on the couch. (Nothing gets your heart rate going like 100 lbs of snarling canine fury erupting underneath you like a leviathan from the depths of your shag carpet.)

He got me back later. He was lying in the doorway between the kitchen and living room and decided to get up right as I was stepping over him.

Doing the splits has been a dream of mine since I was a little kid. Thanks, Seamus, for helping me achieve a fitness dream! Now, pass me the tylenol, ok?

Eureka!

My engineering colleagues were all quite baffled when I announced that I was going to graduate school...to study Scandinavian Studies. What use is studying Icelandic if you work as a highway engineer?

Well, I'm the only one in the office who knows how to read these Icelandic traffic signs.

Useless? I don't think so.

I came. I saw. I bought the T-shirt.

goodbye, old friend

The washer and dryer, who have faithfully served the previous resident and then us for a longer time than I have been on this earth, have gone to the appliance graveyard. The washer gave up the ghost last week, and so we decided to replace the pair. As much as I hate to admit, it really wasn't feasible to call a repairman to fix a washer that was approximately 40 years old.

So we are now the proud owners of a high-efficiency front loading washer and matching dryer. Oscar and I had a plan to replace the appliances one by one anyway. Next up, the fridge, then replacing the water heater with a tankless model, then the stove. Unless, of course, the existing geriatric appliances decide to die on their own schedule.

Operation Skinny Dog

Seamus and I have started our fitness program, which is a simple plan of taking him on at least a 30 minute walk every evening. Although he is a big dog, he weighed in at 104 lbs (47 kilos) during his last vet visit, which is too much. I hadn't realized just how conducive to basic fitness living in an urban environment could be. When I lived in Seattle, I never thought of myself as a fit person but I did walk an awful lot, just doing everyday stuff. Walking to the grocery store, walking the dog every evening, walking to the library (oh, how I miss having a library within walking distance of my home). These were chores but they didn't feel like work because the neighborhood was interesting. The neighborhood where we live now doesn't really have a center; it's just a bunch of houses contained within a grid of high speed city streets. So taking the dogs on walks just isn't very interesting. There isn't much to see except for more houses, plus the streets and sidewalks are in pretty rough shape here, so footing can be treacherous.

I know that these walks are good for Seamus and for me as well, but they really aren't very interesting.

Welcome me!

So here I am in my new cubby hole in the blogiverse. It was time for a change. I've been squatting in this real estate for a while now. I'd created an account so that I could comment on my friend's blog more easily and I'm happy I was able to secure the name that I wanted.

Anyhoo, it's the last day of the year and everyone is making up their lists of best of/worst of things of 2007. I will resist that trend, mostly because I can't really think of anything at the moment.

In knitting news, I've finally taken the plunge to make a sweater for myself. (It's Thermal from Knitty). Making adult sized sweaters kind of freaks me out, actually. Size in knitting is determined by gauge, which is the number of stitches per inch. Most projects I make are small so if I'm not making the same gauge as the pattern, the difference is usually small enough so that it doesn't matter all that much. Or if it does matter, I'm not undoing a lot of work if I have to start over. But imagine this...the sweater pattern specifies 7 stitches per inch, and your gauge is 7.5 stitches per inch. Oh, that hardly matters right? On a hat or a pair of socks, probably not. But the difference of 7 vs. 7.5 stitches per inch, on a sweater pattern made for a 48" bust, results in a sweater with a bust measurement of 44.8 inches. Even for a 34" bust sweater, this difference would result in a 31.7" bust. So yeah, gauge matters on sweaters.

I've only made four sweaters in my short knitting career. Three have been baby sweaters, and I don't really care if those are too big because babies grow so quickly. Even if they grow so quickly that the sweater fits for exactly one day, the items are small enough that they don't take a long time to knit. The one adult sweater I made was for my very slim, petite mother in law, and even that one took me about 60 hours.

While I am pleased with myself for actually attempting a sweater for myself (reflects my Maturity as a Knitter by Overcoming Fears and Embracing Challenges), I am kicking myself for choosing this particular pattern. Oh, I love it and I'm using a silk/wool yarn which is just yummy. But it's going to take me fracking for. Ever. It's a fine yarn at a dense gauge at a large size. I've almost finished the first sleeve, and this has taken me almost 20 hours. For one fracking sleeve! The body has 3x as many stitches around as the sleeve. This may just be one of those 100 hour projects. Can you imagine the heartbreak after investing all this time into the object and then you find out it doesn't fit? Now maybe you know why I've been skittish about making a sweater for myself.