Join Me in Snarkville

Ok, so I know I owe you a post (or four).  But I have too much to tell you that it is taking a bit to share it all.  So, I am going to have to give you snippets… (more…)

How it became Wednesday this week, I have NO idea.  Seriously, last I checked it was Monday morning and I’m not entirely sure how it became Wednesday without me looking.  But alas, it is and that means Knit Night tomorrow night and ever so much closer to the weekend, when I get to eat pancakes, go to a major case-lot sale (is what it sounds like, a sale on case lots of stuff, useful stuff like toilet paper and ziploc bags), and a birthday with Duke.  What happened to weekends of bon-bons and movies? (more…)

There are a few things that indicate that I’m stressed out.  Most of them involve eating, avoiding anything that looks like work, and possibly grumping at the people I love the most.

Now, I have to admit that my stress level is greatly reduced lately, so imagine my shock when in the past week, I’ve have the other great stress indicator — nightmares. (more…)

In my life, I’ve known what it means to be burned out.  I often wonder how it is possible that a not yet 35 year old woman could have possibly been burned out as many times as I have.  It may be that I’ve burned out in some areas of my life; perhaps my own way of forcing me to move on (when on isn’t always forward); or it is further proof that I have the attention span of a gnat. The list is rather endless, but I’ve burned out of several jobs, countless boyfriends (but that’s normal, right?), a car, more craft projects than Prince wishes to think about, and random other things that used to be important to me and now I can not even recall what they are.

Well, I’ve been burned out again recently… (more…)

…like today I know I am truly loved. (more…)

Last year, I went to hear Stephanie Pearl-McPhee speak. She said something that stuck with me and rolled around in my head until finally there is room for the blog post to push forward.

Paraphrase of what she said: “If I hear one more time ‘This isn’t your grandmother’s knitting.’ I’m going to ask ‘How do you figure and why are your insulting my grandmother?’ My grandmother was a damn fine knitter and this *IS* her knitting.”

Oh, there was more about the connectedness of knitting to our past and the importance of it all. But the part that just rolled around in my head is that this knitting thing I do. This pulling string into knots making fabric. This thing IS no different than what my grandmother, my great grandmother and even her mother did. There’s probably a few grandfathers along the way who knit a bit too — but I am not sure. But the part I’m not saying is that shorty after I heard those words, my grandmother passed away. (more…)

I can’t tell anymore.  I’m out of sorts lately.  I am rather sure it has nothing to do with the fact I’ve been working 15 hour days since my return and I still feel (and am) horribly behind. So I thought I’d go through the Good/Bad list, my effort to share the love and joy. (more…)

Warning: I was not in the best of places this weekend. Not for the normal reasons I’m out of sorts mind you, but I was totally hormonal and the words ‘total bitch’ come to mind. I wish I could tell you that I had the clarity of mind to declare myself not fit for humans and give myself a time out. Oh, but no, that would be calm and rational of me, which unfortunately I was not. It was not pretty, I know — but we all have lived through it and for that alone we shall be grateful.

However, there are a few things I have learned this weekend: (more…)

I know, two posts within minutes, forgive me.

When I was really little, my grandparents house was broken into. They were doing some construction and a window was left unsecure. A lot of things were stolen, no one was hurt, but things were taken. To say it hurt would be an understatement. To say, I’m not still teary talking about it, almost 30 years later would be a lie.

I’ve conquered many of my fears in this world, but that is one I still have. To this day, I have nightmares about having something stolen from me. I know they are things and they are replaceable, what was stolen from grandparents then (and even me) there were things that were not replaceable, thus it is my greatest fear. In my most sane moments, I know my fear is based on the timing of the theft. I know I was young enough to still be forming the bonds of safety and security and those were damaged.

To give you an idea of how lasting this fear is, after conquering so many of my childhood fears, I still have this rock in the pit of my stomach every single time I return to the house after being away for any length of time. When the house is empty I worry. I push it as far to the corners of my mind, but there has never been a time I’ve returned to my empty house that I’ve not looked around fully expecting to have been broken into. (Fair warning: I own nothing of value beyond sentimental. I hear there is no market for sentimentality.) I don’t think anyone who knows me knew until reading this how deep my fear goes. (Yes, I’m pretty sure I need some therapy for it.)

So, I open my fear to you for a very important reason. A very good friend of mine had his broken into a few nights back. In the most frighten ways, they (he and his son) were asleep when it happened. Thankfully, everyone one is ok. Thankfully, nothing of sentimental value was taken (those are things I fear gone the most). But stuff was taken. Their safety violated.

My friend, Don (or db), is a single dad. He works hard to raise an amazing teenager. I’ve met his lad and I can tell you two important things about him, first, he is mature beyond his years in his ability to relate and talk to people; second, my Duke truly loves him. The Lad (what db calls him) was the first person outside of our family who Duke had no problem having for a sitter. We all love the Lad.

This past year the Lad had problems in school. Slacking, as teens do, db tried to encourage his son’s focus and goal setting. Finally, they struck a deal, while not wanting to pay for grade, db agreed to an iPod Video (30GB) for a total turnaround in school. This offer had been there in the fall and the Lad didn’t step up. But the spring came and the lightbulb flicked on and he performed, no he excelled in school. I, frankly, think he found his stride. He’s set himself a high bar for the school year coming up, but there are no doubts of his abilities. So, db with pride bought the promised iPod. In fact, I happen to know it arrived the same day as my first illfated MacBook Pro. (I saw the box while playing with the iSight Camera.)

That iPod, along with his xBox, and db’s wallet were all that were stolen. Now, db will get the bank stuff fixed. And I’ll be honest, I’m not a huge fan of the xBox thing. But that iPod needs to be replaced. It just has to be. So, I pinged db and told him it wouldn’t be wrong if he asked for help. Heck, if I have friends who will help send a guy to BlogHer, I have friends who will help with the iPod.

So, here’s my beg. If you can, help out — even just $1 or $5 will go a long way to do two things:

1. Restore the THING lost.
2. Help with the healing and hopefully the violation of it all.

In return, db has made me three promises:

1. Thank yous from the lad.
2. To move and move soon.
3. Renter’s Insurance!!!

Here’s the donation button:

Now, to wash my face — yes, I’m still a little lot teary.

This was birthday party weekend here in Snarkville. No, not Duke’s party weekend, but instead TWO parties for his friends. (more…)