Forces Pulling From the Center of the Earth Again

Today was a banner day in the Cutthroat household.  I started to unpack the things in my boxes from home.  Lo and behold, I found my journals from middle school and high school.  Oh, the drama!  Are all teenage girls that dramatic?  Also, I had a crush on every boy who had a name with a vowel.  At one point in the journal, I had just resorted to names with hearts around them.  There were poems.  There was parental venting.  The single best part of the whole thing is some story about some dance and as a side note in the middle, it read, "by the way, I now have a brother!"  Those journals were everything I remembered.  PS.  Did anyone else listen to Live - Throwing Copper on repeat while making out?  I wish I could just go back and tell myself:  you are going to meet the greatest man someday and he will always call you back.  I am going to hang on to this writing just in case we have a girl at some point who turns out even a tenth as hormonal as I was.  My journal reminded me that my hobbies, besides chasing boys, included some mean ceramics.  I hope my hormonal girl, if I ever have one, will be a knitter.  I'm sure if she is rebellious, she will be a crocheter.  Even worse, she will probably be into dogs.  Gasp! 

This Must Be It, Welcome to the New Year

Wow.  What a week!  Christmas is over.  Family time is over.  2010 is over.  I had such a great time in the last week that it is hard to get back into the routine of working, commuting, and normalcy for all of 2 days.  I think that waking up today for work was the hardest thing I have had to do in a while.  I would have rather thrown myself down a flight of stairs than sit in an office all day.  A broken leg or work?  A broken leg is better.  Although, I say that having never had a broken leg. 
I feel that the year's great holidays go in order of greatness.  Christmas is obviously the best holiday, and working backwards, they get progressively worse until you get to New Year's Eve.  I hate New Year's Eve.  It is such a let-down.  The premise is to get dressed up, drink, and watch the clock.  I always get really excited about New Year's Eve and nothing ever really happens.  I am not sure what I am expecting when it is midnight.  I feel like something should explode with glitter and tiny kittens and free cake.  That never happens.  I am always standing awkwardly alone when my friends are hugging each other.  Then, you look over and "that" guy that came with one of your friends is standing there hugless.  You feel obligated to hug him and you don't even really like him.  Ugh.  Every year.  What a weird holiday!  Happy changing the year on your calendar!  Who cares?  Give me a present or some fireworks or a parade!  This year, I am staying in. 

You Are the Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine

Flights were so expensive this year. This being the case, we decided to make a road trip out of our trip to my side for Christmas. We got a cat sitter, ornaments boxed up, and Taylor Swift I-pod playlist. My poor husband! Usually, people hear of my antics and they say, "oh, poor Mr. Cutthroat!" I almost never agree. This time, about 5 hours into this playlist, my husband began to sing "Mine" and I realized I am lucky to have an easy-going man in my life. To be fair, he isn't easy going all the time. He did almost rip Garmin off of the dash during the trip. But, I can't complain. Did I mention that I bought my mother a Garmin for Christmas, opened the box and proceeded to use it for two trips? This Garmin is the best thing that's never been mine. When we get to our final destination, I will rebox and wrap. The temptation to use it was too great. Get off my back!
Ps. I typed this on my phone. Forgive any glaring errors in capitalization and punctuation. Get off my back!

Wish I'd Never Grown Up

It's official: I am way old.  Today, my husband and I turned on an old 80's movie today.   The movie featured a cameo by none other than 80's character Yakov Smirnoff.  If you are like me, you forgot Yakov even existed until seeing him again.  Mr. Cutthroat had never heard of the comedic magic of Yakov.  And, by comedic magic, I mean joke after joke after joke about why America is better than Russia.  I have married a man that has missed out on Yakov.  He is too young to remember and that is depressing.  He probably doesn't even know about Teddy Ruxpin or Glo-worms!  I am on the downward slope towards middle age, while Mr. Cutthroat is still basking in the sunshine of his youth.  What is my life going to be like when I don't get carded anymore?  Alcohol free, that's what. 
Back to Yakov, do you know that he is a professor in Branson, Missouri?  Obviously, if you are Yakov Smirnoff, Branson is a no-brainer choice of where to go when you have worn out all your jokes about Communism.  This week, we will be looking up a lot of Yakov on YouTube to get my husband up to speed on 80's pop culture.  America!  What a country!

Now, Clap Your Hands If You Got A Bank Roll

So, if you recall, I wrote a post the other day about making a blanket.  Today, I somewhat panicked about Christmas gifts and promptly headed to the mall.  I saw a knitted blanket there for $150.  Holy crap!  $150!!  I would feel like I was mugging someone at gunpoint if I charged that much!  Needless to say, I did not entertain the idea of purchasing the blanket.  I did wander around for the better part of two hours trying to think of something, anything, to buy some of the folks on my list.  I will say that at the beginning of this season, I couldn't think of even two things that I wanted to get as a gift.  Now, I keep thinking of things I want to buy myself.  I prepare a list weeks in advance for every Christmas.  Then, I spend the next several weeks trying to find out what was purchased.  This just doesn't feel like Christmas.  Even putting my cats into elf hats and playing the Sounds of the Season music channel on blast has not worked.  There are no presents under the tree for me, and I think that is all the difference.  My husband and I decided not to exchange gifts this year for a variety of reasons, one of which is that we see every purchase the other person makes.  Not fun.  Also, not challenging in trying to figure out gifts.  Damn this cashless society!  It just isn't as fun to receive a gift from someone you share finances with when you are thinking, "Well, I half bought this for myself."  Tis better to receive when your boyfriend has separate finances and he has to figure out an appropriate amount to spend.  And, they wrap it on their own.  So cute!  Getting a present you already saw on the bank statement loses its charm.  I feel I was not warned about this before tying the knot.  There is so much they don't tell you.

A Southern Man Don't Need Him Around Anyhow

Right this second, I am stuck watching ConAir.  Not that I am watching it by choice, I just don't care enough to put up a fight.  I have yarn to spin and hats to knit, Nicholas Cage's terrible southern accent is the least of my worries.  But, it did give me a great idea to knit a bunny.  I have seen a couple of patterns I think I could tackle for Cutthroat Yarn on Etsy.  I see little animals in stores and I think that I could make the same.  I actually say that about most things I see, but putting it into action is a whole different story.  By the way, how much of this movie is a sweaty Nicholas Cage running in slow motion?  The answer, a lot.  I typically get a lot of knitting done on an airplane.  I feel flying ConAir is an exception.  I would be too concerned with having to hand tow a plane out of sand or defending my personal belongings from some other convict.  This movie is terrible.  I am going to knit someone a "Cameron Poe Kit" and it will be a bunny, a tank top, and a disgusting wig-all in a box.  I doubt that I will sell many of those.  Maybe if this was 10 years ago, I might have a better market.  Honestly, who watches this movie??

Broken Glass Everywhere

This weekend was really a test for my marriage. Every year, my ultimate goal is to seek out the most extravagant Christmas tree I can possibly find. Every year, I begin prepping my husband in March for the impending monstrosity taking up one fourth of our living room in December. This year our tree was too tall for the car, so we just strapped it to the top. One thousand stairs later, the tree was inside and in the stand. Well, it wasn't that easy. There were some loud, differing opinions on several aspects of the set up.
In the midst of all of this, I was also prepping for a small dinner party with close friends the following day. There was baking, scrubbing, swiffering, dusting, vaacuuming, and most importantly, decorating. By the time 1 AM rolled around, I was the last man standing. My husband was fast asleep but, I wasn't able to take the same liberties because of all the aforementioned activities. I got part of the tree decorated by the time I went to bed. And, then there were the furry frenemies. About 2 hours later, CRASH! I sent my husband out to see the source of the noise, and as I suspected, the tree was on the floor and broken glass was covering the living room. I know it was Mr. Cutthroat's cat. I KNOW in my heart it was him. But, I am working hard to keep it in perspective. Although one of my cherished ornaments from Grandma ended up in pieces, it was not my actual Grandma laying in pieces. This I have learned from watching a variety of hoarding shows.
The tree has since been tethered to the wall. And, we have made it 24 hours standing. I just have to keep an eye on those feline jerks.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

I have never been a fan of winter.  I have lived all over and I feel as if I have lived in cities where they are famous for winter.  But, it has never really grown on me.  I hate being cold.  In my opinion, the worst part of winter is when your alarm goes off in the morning, your heat hasn't adjusted to the awake hours, and you have to get up to take a shower.  Over the course of my life, I will have spent hours convincing my husband to shower first.  I keep a bedside journal of excuses I can use in the future.  In the spirit of this, I am going to knit a blanket for our bed.  In theory, this should be an easy project.  But, I need to make a good pattern so I don't get bored.  I think with a project of that size it is easy to get annoyed with the time it takes to knit.  I am pretty sure that after spending the time to knit a cozy blanket for my bed, I am surely not going to be able to get out.  This could mean the difference between me employed with no blanket and unemployed, living like a cat sleeping all day long under my blanket.  This could be the fork in the road of which the tarot card reader spoke.  Ah, what does she know?  We saw her later in a bar spending my $25 in a video poker machine. 

But I Prefer a Man Who Lives, and Gives Expensive Jewels

Christmas is almost here.  Shopping should be almost complete.  Last year, I had all of my gifts purchased by Black Friday.  It also didn't hurt that I was working somewhere for the season with an awesome employee discount and happened to do 100% of my shopping there.  This year, I have been on vacation and knitting like a mad woman and I have only bought one thing.  And!  I opened it.  This is not going well.  I always used to make comments about how funny it was that the male members of the family never knew what they had purchased for the gift exchange.  I could never understand why they didn't just do their own shopping.  Being married, I now know why.  Men are terrible with remembering who to buy for and what to buy them.  I feel like every Christmas I ask Mr. Cutthroat, "Hey there, what should we buy your Grandmother?"  And, every year, he says sugar free chocolates and a puffy vest.  EVERY YEAR.  "Hey babe, what should we buy your Grandmother for her birthday?"  Sugar free chocolates and a card.  You gotta give it the extra puffy vest for Christmas.  Now that I am here, I am making it a mission to make this Christmas more than sugar free chocolates.  I am not letting my husband pick the family gifts ever again.  At least he knows to stick to the jewelry for me. 

I've Been Everywhere, Man

Phew.  What a week!  I just got back from vacation, thus the long absence.  There is nothing worse than going from a nice, warm, sunny climate to the frigid winter.  As a knitter, I make it a point to check out knitting shops in every new city I visit.  I have, at times, bought a lot of yarn and had trouble transporting it back.  This time, I was able to curtail any kind of extravagant purchase.  I have so much going on that I can't even imagine adding to my yarn or fiber stash.  Not to mention, Mr. Cutthroat would notice.  And, I said that I wouldn't buy anymore yarn or Christmas ornaments.  (Fingers crossed behind my back.)  I love checking out new knitting stores in new cities.  Sometimes they have the same types of yarns, and on occasion, they have something totally unique that you have never seen before.  New Orleans had a great little yarn shop that reflected the cramped neighborhood.  Denver had beautiful fibers and the author of one of my spinning books as an owner.  Nags Head had so many beach knits and great yarn for the beach.  Just like the city, Des Moines had a great hidden trendiness.  West Virginia had eco-friendly, hippie yarn.  Damn, I have bought a lot of yarn.

Wasting My Time in the Waiting Line

So, in a continuation of Thanksgivingy posts, I have to talk about Black Friday. 
Yes, I am one of those people.  I stand in line for bargains with hundreds thousands of people to save $10, maybe $20, on gadgets that will probably be just as cheap in a few weeks.  For me, it is the best part about Thanksgiving.  Being thankful for the year and family and friends, yada yada yada is the point.  I get that in a perfect world, that is the best part of Thanksgiving.  But, in my world, I am thankful for that stuff all year long so I take the Friday after Thanksgiving to elbow people for a Garmin.  My trooper of a husband was so good at sticking to my shopping strategy.  You have to get in, get someone in line immediately while the other people shop.  That is a rookie mistake that many amateur Black Friday shoppers make.  If you have a lot of places to visit, you can't waste time in the line waiting to check out.  This year, at Staples, they had a line wrapping around the store.  We were at the very first corner of the bend in 30 degree weather.  Some guy gets out of his car and hops in line behind us.  After about 5 to 10 minutes of waiting there, he looks at me and says, "What is this line for?"  Yes, he saw a random line and decided to get in it, and eventually got out when he found out there was nothing there for free.  I can say that I have never gotten in a line because I saw one.  I feel like that is something I need to do.  The very next long line I see, I am going to jump in it with an open heart, hoping for something free. 

A Heart Attack, Ack, Ack, Ack, Ack, Ack

Well, I am home today.  I wasn't expecting to be, but I am deathly ill, much like most people on my husband's side of the family.  Someone brought the plague to Thanksgiving, which is the reason I am watching TLC in the middle of the day. 
Can we talk about Thanksgiving?  Well, Mr. Cutthroat and I go to his side of the family in the Midwest for Thanksgiving.  I love the town from which my husband hails.  If it had a place for me to work, I would move there in a heartbeat.  The best part about the town is that every time we go back to his home, there is some kind of fundraising festival taking place.  Thanksgiving is no different.  There was an athletic boosters fundraiser for the high school my husband attended.  This fish fry may have been the single greatest event I have ever been to in my life, and I am including my wedding.  There is a wheel of holes and numbers surrounded by plexiglass.  Then, the cowbell starts ringing.  Then, the mouse comes out.  You bet on which hole the mouse runs into.  That game turned me into a degenerate gambler, one quarter at a time.  I was screaming and heckling and dancing and cheering.  How have I lived this many years without ever betting a quarter on a mouse??  Also, why hasn't this tactic worked its way into other fundraising events?  There is no reason that people wouldn't bet on the mouse for a political event if Bill Clinton was holding the bell!  Oh wait, there is a reason.  The mouse sometimes gets so scared by people yelling and screaming (ie. me) that he has a tiny heart attack! 
Rest In Peace, little barn mouse caught by an Amish kid.  Thanks for winning me 5s of dollars. 

You'd Think I Ought to Be Used to That by Now

"You are starting to look like an alpaca," Mr. Cutthroat pointed out at lunch today. I couldn't argue. In fact, I kind of agree with him. Almost every article of clothing I wear is covered in a layer of beige fiber. This might be an insider trading tip but, I would recommend every reader buy stock in those little lint rollers that are basically backwards masking tape rolls. I go through them constantly. People on the street probably get the impression that I am some crazy cat lady who hoards animals. When they see me on the commute to work, they are probably imagining what my house looks like, thinking that I live like an episode of Hoarders with cats running across my stove and mummified cats under my sofa cushions. My cats are probably annoyed at the extra layer of fur they are carrying around. And, as far as Mr. Cutthroat is concerned, I will keep pulling fiber out of his beard. But, I will not attempt to recard it into the stock.

You Better Beware, and Don't Go There

One piece of advice:  Never Google "hot ass cucumber."

I spent much of my weekend sitting on the couch knitting and spinning while Mr. Cutthroat perused random cooking shows.  I think he is loving all the special orders I have taken in so he isn't forced to travel outdoors, or really even shower.  He was watching the Barefoot Contessa and I was spinning yarn, not really focused on the television, except to make observations here and there.  She was making a "feast" for a dinner with her friends.  And, I say feast in quotes because she make some lamb skewers, spanakopita (or as my mother says Spank-O-Pita), and a Greek salad.  Definitely not a feast.  But, then again, this could be why I am fat.  To others, this might be a feast.  In the midst of her making this "feast," she said that she was going to cube a hot ass cucumber.  I was only half paying attention but, I swear this is what she said.  My husband and I kept rewinding it over and over again.  So, I told my husband to do what ever good American does in this circumstance:  Google it.  We did not find the information for which we were looking.  We did, on the other hand, find a lot of information about people who really, really, really love cucumbers.    There is a whole subset of the population who have cucumber fetishes.  And, even fewer still who have a foot and cucumber fetish.  Yikes!  I am going on record to say that I never want to do anything that I found by Googling hot ass cucumber.  I felt like my innocence was robbed due to the Barefoot Contessa's inability to clearly articulate what kind of cucumber I am supposed to use in a homemade tzatziki sauce.  What a jerk!

Pull This Thread as I Walk Away

I am interested in the next frontier in my knitting:  full scale sweaters.  Up until now, I can make scarves, socks, hats, purses, and jumpers.  But, I have yet to knit an entire sweater.  I know that I possess all of the skills to make it happen, I just haven't been brave enough to try it yet.  My fear is that I throw all that time and energy (and yarn) into a sweater and it turns out looking like Theo Huxtable's Gordon Gartrelle shirt.  (I know the Gordon Gartrelle shirt is such an obscure reference, but if you remember it, this example totally makes sense.)  I am going to start small with sweaters, that much I know for sure.  I was going to start with a baby.  But, there is something more abundant already available in my household:  kitties.  I am going to start small with a no nonsense cardigan for one of my furry frienemies.  Then, once I master that, I am going to move on to children.  I have so much yarn that I have purchased over the years in hopes that someday it would make a cute sweater.  Now is the time to make it happen.  I am declaring 2011 the year of the sweater.  Maybe, just maybe, next year I will have a Christmas card that will have all four members of the Cutthroat Family in matching sweaters.  Code:  I will be buying 4 matching sweaters next year.

Your Cheatin' Heart Will Tell on You

Alec Baldwin is officially in. 
As a confident married couple, there are still those celebrities with whom you find so attractive, you may consider a one time fling.   My husband and I have our respective lists.  His is full of the same old stereotypes like Scarlett Johansson and Christina Hendricks.  Yeah, yeah, I'm really concerned about the remote possibility that Scarlett is walking down the street and she sees my husband and thinks, I'm going for it despite Ryan Reynolds.  I'm sure my husband thinks the same about my prospects.  Now, I have decided to amend my list to include Alec Baldwin.  The tide started turning toward him once he knitted in an episode of 30Rock.  And, it really grew after watching It's Complicated for the 23rd time.  The big decision comes with deciding who to take out.
1.  Chad Ochocinco.  I love a man who can commit to his career with a name change that is utter nonsense, when translated.  Also, have you seen his body?  He stays. 
2.  Clive Owen.  Foreign accent.  He stays. 
3.  Ryan Gosling.  He is very pretty.  But, he did dump Rachael McAdams and I love her almost as much as Taylor Swift. 
4.  Jack Black.  This is a weird crush, and I fully admit that.  He may have to go.
5.  Ryan Dunn.  Of Jackass fame, great beard.  And, I do appreciate a nice beard. 
Sorry, Jack Black, you are out.  I am going with Alec Baldwin. 
Now, to make it official, I need to knit it up into a little swatch.  As a warning:  Scarlett better keep her mitts off of my husband. 

How Ya Livin' Biggie Smallz?

My mom is by far my biggest fan.  Half the battle of starting this yarn shop is gaining the confidence to think what your selling is worthy of being purchased.  Every time I put a new skein or hat or other random knitted item up for sale, she tells me it is the best thing on the internet.  You would swear that my yarn was spun from gold leaves and my knitting was blessed by a thousand baby pandas.  The other night, my mother was looking up stuff on Etsy to compare to my shop.  And, before I say this, I would like to stress that there is a lot of great stuff on Etsy.  So many people are so creative, and their packaging is beyond professional in presentation.  I want to be those sellers.  Hopefully, I will be someday.  But, back to the subject at hand.  My mother called to tell me that she looked at every last item on Etsy and mine was by far the best.  It is good to have such a loyal fan base, even if that fan base doesn't knit and happened to give birth to you.  I am hoping that at some point my fan base will be more extensive than blood relatives, and eventually to those who knit.  Even Notorious B.I.G.'s mother loved his music, and it is quite possible that she wasn't a fan of early 90's rap.  Maybe she was.  I hope I can make Notorious B.I.G. money on yarn someday.  If my kid was making millions off of rap, I would be all about it.  Hell, I have my mom sporting my merchandise now and I don't have Biggie money.  Speaking of which, does the B.I.G. actually spell out something?  I always assumed that it was because he was so fat.  I should have made my company Cutthroat Y.A.R.N., a mysterious acronym that no one can guess.  I should task my mom with coming up with a sweet meaning for Y.A.R.N. 

And Then I Start Some Lyrics

Today, I reached an important milestone in my knitting.
I was knitting all day.  I have gotten some orders and I am working hard to make pretty things.  Spending a federal holiday knitting is way up there in my favorite things list.  But, back to my milestone.  About 3 o'clock today, watching First Wives Club was really boring.  Being on a deadline, I didn't have time for a nap.  So, I just laid down on the couch and knitted .  I would say it is the ultimate in laziness to lay down in the middle of a project, but I kept knitting.  This is probably a reflection of Diane Lane's acting.  I am so happy that I have mastered this skill and it has me wondering what else I could possible do while knitting.  Obviously, anything involving water is out, like showering or swimming.  I might be able to ride a stationary bike.  Some knitters in my area knit on the commute.  Me, I don't particularly enjoy knitting on the commute to work because I feel like every time I step on a train, I am instantly covered in a film of ickiness.  Nothing says "I knitted this with love" like 100 commuters coughing on your work.  Plus, I always have to sit next to someone with large elbows.  The ultimate of the knitting sickness would be if I can nail down knitting and spinning at once.  Making yarn as I use yarn... 

It's Getting Hot in Here

I have been feeling pretty blah lately.  The weather is changing, and my body is in revolt.  I woke up today with a pounding headache, and a last minute call from my husband reminding me of the veterinarian appointment for my youngest furry frienemy.  I threw on an old sweatshirt, baggy jeans (not to brag, but all my jeans are baggy due to the diet), and the cat in the carrier and off we went.  We get to the veterinarian's office and, truth be told, it was nicer than my house.  I waited in the lobby, along with 15 desperate housewives who seemed to have perfectly normal pets.  I got called back with my cat.  And as I sat there, I just wanted to get in, get out and go hit up the people doctor. 
Then, Dr. Handsome McHotpants walked waltzed into my life.  He opened the door and seemed to have floated in on a cloud.  Instantly, I wanted to go back into time to put on some makeup and a halter dress.  Or, at the very least, I wish I would have brushed my hair.  It is hard to be witty and attractive while holding your cat as the hot vet puts a thermometer up your cat's butt.  No, it isn't hard.  It is impossible.  It isn't like I am going to hook up with him, but just because I am married doesn't mean I am dead!  We discussed why my cat has chosen to show how much he hates me by peeing on my side of the bed.  Dr. Hot Vet said that the cat may not like my particular scent.  To which I replied, "So, you are telling me I smell like a litter box?"  It is a good thing I am married, I am terrible in those situations.  I definitely need to get Mr. Cutthroat a veterinarian uniform. 

Where is My Motivation?

In May, I attended the Maryland Sheep and Wool festival, along with every other person east of the Mississippi who has even heard of yarn.  I bought the softest cashmere yarn from a small booth.  Cashmere clothing items aren't cheap, and neither is the yarn.  It is hard for me to believe that cashmere comes from goats.  They are certainly not as cute as sheep, and they certainly don't have personalities like alpacas and rabbits.  But, they somehow fetch huge money for their wool.  Anyway, I started knitting this up with a pattern I doctored up from a stitch pattern in the book Knit and Purl.  (By the way, I highly recommend this book.)  Right away, I started on this scarf and got about a 1/3 of the way through.  Then, I put it down.  That is the death of any project for me.  I get bored with the stitch, I get turned on to something new.  It has been sitting on the needles until last night when I was husbandless and watching Couples Retreat.  I decided to seize the day and get it done.  It took me a good hour to try and figure out the pattern, but I am back on track and it is roughly halfway finished.  I put it down because I lose interest in things that I make for myself.  I only like to keep the items that I royally screw up.  The last scarf I made, I only kept because one of my furry frienemies pulled a thread.  If people judged my knitting skill based on the knitted goods I wear, they would think I am the outlet mall of knitters.  But, with cashmere, it is hard to sell something handmade given the cost of the skein and the time it takes to make it.  So, I will begrudgingly finish this scarf with myself in mind.  If it looks too good to keep, I will put it up on Etsy.  

You're a Sex Bomb

I have always been on the lookout for fun knits.  A knitter can live on scarves alone!  I found a few patterns for some risque knits.  Now, I am not sure how I feel about knitted lingerie, and it is certainly not something you can sell.  But, I think I may try out something small.  Can knits be sexy?  I know the sheer act of knitting doesn't really trip Mr. Cutthroat's trigger, but maybe if I made something that showed a lot of skin, it may turn his whole attitude about knitting around.  Perhaps a bra?  A bra, I can assume, would provide little or no support.  And, it would definitely show under your clothes.  I think that it is more of a novelty knit.  Maybe I can knit up some pasties and take this yarn show to some exotic dancers?  I could start a new craze!  Although, now that I'm starting to think about it, I don't know how pasties even attach.  Are they stickers?  Are they suction cups?  My husband claims he has never seen one in person, but he seems oddly confident they are stickers.  Once again, more topics I need to look into further.

My Friends Say I Should Act My Age

I have had a ton of stuff going on over the past few days.  I am a regular social butterfly, you might say.  But, it definitely is starting to catch up to me.  Today, on the commute home, I found myself sleeping like Big Bird.  My face was basically tucked into my oversized sweater and I may or may not have been snoring like a bird.  Had I been wearing yellow, people may have asked me for my autograph.  Leading up to this, I have been dining out, meeting up with friends, drinking wine.  I am not that person.  I am usually pretty lame in that I watch a lot of Kardashians and knit.  Lately with the success diet, I feel like I have the energy to do everything and wake up early for work.  It's amazing what a few fruits and vegetables will do.  Embracing this, I am going to test the absolute limits of what my body can withstand--much like college.   I need to start acting like I am in my late 20's and not my early 80's.  I may need to amend this to say, that I will go out and be social like I am in my late 20's, but I will vow to always carry my knitting with me like I am in my 80's. 

He Wears The Coolest Suede Shoes When I Come in With the Blues

The weekend started off on a bad, bad note.  I got the world's worst haircut on Friday.  Generally, getting my haircut is my most favorite thing, next to spinning and knitting.  This experience has left me looking like Prince Valiant on a good day.  I will take the half of the blame in this situation though.  First, I called last minute to a new place to see if there was any openings.  She scheduled me for an appointment right away and I was there on time.  When I walked in, I noticed  the salon was celebrating Halloween and my stylist was dressed as Elvis.  He was having some serious issues trying to keep his tassels out of the way and his scissors straight.  This guy gave me the exact opposite of what I asked for.  Literally:  opposite.  I should have said something, but I felt like I would be imposing because he was in such a hurry.  But, I rarely complain in a service setting.  So, here I am with this ridiculous hair.  I guess I should be happy that I had Elvis and not the guy in the Lady Gaga costume.  Lady Gaga's outfit was really unwieldy.  At least this experience has given me the excuse I need to start working on hats.  Maybe I can rock a Raggedy Ann yarn wig?  It would certainly be an improvement to what my head looks like now. 

All the Sweetcraze are Gone

Starting your own business is hard.  Dieting is worse. 
I have been devoting all my spare time towards making yarn, custom orders, and other knits.  Now that I have started selling items, I feel a second wind of energy to get projects done to beef up the site.  I have taken on a lot of challenges this season with starting Cutthroat and Weight Watchers.  I came from a profession where my brain was always running, I was always busy.  Now, I feel like I have a lot of time.  Time to think.  Time to judge.  Time to be bored.  And, one can only read so many Tori Spelling books before you need to find something else to fill your thoughts.  Doing Cutthroat Yarn has kept my hands busy with a hobby I love.  Getting back into shape, a reasonable shape, has been more challenging.  The diet has occupied every aspect of worry of which my brain is capable.  I feel like I am forever bartering with myself, 'if I eat this fudge cookie, I will only eat lettuce for the rest of the day.'  Some days, I feel like I would trade my cat for an ice cream snickers.  But, only Mr. Cutthroat's cat. 
My brain is filled with food points and wool, which has edged thoughts of glitter and kittens out to an acceptable level for a person who isn't a preteen.  But, four orders and thirteen pounds feels pretty good, until that ice cream snickers craving hits.  

Come on Feel the Noise

It has been a long 24 hours.  The Harry Potter-athon went all night long.  There are 6 of those damn movies!  At 4 AM, I woke up to some kind of sorcery going on across the courtyard.  And, if I can't sleep, neither is Mr. Cutthroat.  I sent him over there to ask him to cast a audio reductus spell on the speakers.  I felt like I was watching a really boring version of Rear Window.  I could see Mr. Cutthroat at the door and the neighbor looking awkwardly through the peep hole and taking a split second to decide whether or not he was going to answer.  All in all, it ended well.  I think he was kind of embarrassed that he was 30ish and watching 12 hours worth of Ron Weasley.  I wonder if he looks into our apartment and sees how utterly lame we are over here.  He's probably thinking, "All that girl does is make yarn and the Gordon's Fisherman she lives with just watches Dances With Wolves."  I will say that I have attempted to do the Harry Potter-athon in many instances.  I just can't sit for that long without moving, especially during the Luna Lovegood stages.  Tonight, I am turning the air conditioner on.  In October.  I need one good night's sleep without hearing Lord Voldemort in my dreams, packing up my car with homemade life jackets, so we can go to the beach.  Dreams are definitely weirder with a subliminal Harry Potter message. 

You Can't Have One Without the Other Continued

Now that I am laying in bed, Mr Cutthroat has brought it to my attention that he is, in fact, watching Harry Potter and not Saw. Beatrix Lastrange gets me everytime.

You Can't Have One Without the Other

Tonight, I started my second journey into dyeing in the wool.  I decided to take the alpaca I have carded to do a blue/turquoise blend.  I am pretty excited about how it turned out.  I have one skein on the wheel now, and when that is complete, I am going to spin the blue alpaca.  I have yet to work with alpaca fiber on a wheel, so I am a bit geeky in saying that I can't wait. 
I hosted our knitting party tonight.  Along with the usual chatter and Sister Wives marathon playing in the background, there was a soundtrack of an nondescript horror movie playing from the guy across the courtyard.  He must be watching Saw.  That is the only thing I can figure.  At first, I was confused at what could possibly be happening on Sister Wives to warrant that much screaming.  Emerging from the kitchen, I realized that it was the guy across the way.  I am oddly drawn to Sister Wives and the more I think about it, the gay marriage advocates and the polygamists should get on the same page, in regards to marriage freedom.  Unlikely allies?  Yes.  Same basic goal?  Absolutely.  My only main issue with Sister Wives is that guy's goatee.  Yuck.  To make it fair, I could have 4 husbands.  But, that sounds like a terrible plan with a lot of work, not even remotely appealing. 

It's Breathing Down Your Neck

Last night was the first night in a few weeks that I have had the opportunity to bring out my spinning wheel.  I have been getting a lot of special orders through Etsy and friends and friends of friends.  And, because of this, I haven't had time to spin.  Let me be clear:  I am not complaining.  At this point, I have 6 ounces of carded alpaca that I am going to spend my day off tomorrow dyeing.  My goal this weekend is to finish up a knitting order and put up a skein on Etsy.  Basically, I am turning this place into a boot camp.  No one is safe.  I've got a lot of projects on the horizon and we are already getting into the holiday season.  There is no flexibility when knitting a gift for someone to give at Christmas.  Either you knit it on time and come through like a champ, or you utterly fail and they are without a present to give.  Perhaps if we can make Martin Luther King Jr. Day a national gift giving holiday, then it would give an extra few weeks and take some of the pressure off of the December 25th deadline.  I don't see that happening. 

In a World that Keeps on Pushin' Me Around

I was sitting in my house today, knitting quietly, watching "Cheaters" on G4.  As I left to pick up Mr. Cutthroat for a hot, diet friendly date, I picked up a note left at our doorstep.  To paraphrase, it said:  You guys get up early, yada yada yada, you are heavy walkers, I wished we lived on the top floor, blah blah blah, we should hang sometime if you stop being so loud, sincerely - condescending neighbors.  I don't jump out of bed everyday and do a jig.  I do, on the other hand, wear concrete slippers.  Maybe that's the problem.  But, I am not mad about the letter.  I get it.  I am slightly annoyed at the letter itself.  The margins were justified.  There were italics.  There were abbreviated names.  Bleh.  The most annoying, nails-on-chalkboard, terribleness of all is that they carved a pumpkin 2 weeks ago and it sits outside their door.  Amateur hour on the floor below.  It is too early to carve a pumpkin!  It is already molding.  I would like to write back some instructions on how to not be lame on or around Halloween.  It seems like they have bigger problems to worry about then my concrete slippers.  But, I digress.  I am going to take a cue from the video below and get going on some kitten mittens.

I Was Working in the Lab Late One Night

Boy, we have a lot to cover.  I have had thoughts running through my head this weekend and I will try to remember them all. 
1.  30 Rock fans out there?  Well, this past week, Alec Baldwin's character took up knitting and popped out with a shawl.  It reminded me of how many different movies and TV shows reference knitting and have little props to go with it.  How can I be a stunt knitter in the movies?  I will position yarn in aesthetically appealing ways in a kitschy basket.  And!  I can knit a mean shawl.  
2.  I finally finished my last sock.  Somehow, not as gratifying as it should have been.  I think I let that project ferment too long and it lost its luster once I bound off the toes.  And, I don't even wear socks.  The socks are officially out of my system.  The next time that I cast on socks, I want someone to remind me of this feeling right now. 
3.  This weekend, I went with some couples to a haunted farm situation for Halloween.  There was an unsettling phenomenon in the portrayal of scary ghosts dressed like old ladies with knitting paraphernalia.  One ghost was an old lady in a rocking chair, rocking about a hundred miles an hour.  Next to her chair, knitting needles.  You don't ever see creepy old men as golfers in a haunted house, just old spinsters.  There is apparently nothing more frightening than an old single lady.  Ooooh!  Spooky!
4.  The snickers is gone. 

Electric Youth!

The stocking-for-hire is going along quite well.  I am trucking through at a steady pace, as you can see here.  I really geeked it up today when I was trying to write a pattern in the middle of my stocking to spell out Merry Christmas.  I broke out an excel spreadsheet and graphed it out with colored cells.  Flipped it.  Reversed it.  Knitted it.  And, since I was never into playing musical instruments, it is physically impossible to "toot my own horn" but, it.. looks.. good.  To clarify, to look "good" means that it just needs to be legible.  I didn't want to make a stocking that said "Debby Gibsonas."  Knitting Rs are hard.  And, one better, knitting people into a stocking to the point where they don't look like aliens, also difficult.  I like having projects that are challenging.  I get bored pretty quickly with scarves and need to excite it up.  I may start making snowman sweaters, much to my mother-in-law's excitement.  By the way, she has been trying to get me to make a snowman sweater since I started knitting.  I just keep telling her I am allergic to knitted snowmen.  She is going to need to get her sweater from http://www.buyuglysweaters.com.  On that note, some of those sweaters are sold out!  My mother-in-law must have some kindred spirits. 

To Dream the Impossible Dream

Over the years, I have had a lot of goals.   Some are legitimate like start my own online yarn business and visit all the states.  Some are less than legitimate like become the world's first woman non-catholic pope and make out with Steve from Blue's Clues.  One of my new goals in life is to somehow find myself in the Cash Cab.  I know that I am going to have to work really hard or be really lucky to make this happen.  But, I make my own luck, much like the guy who made it on to a lifeboat in Titanic.  A few obstacles that I have immediately pinpointed are not living in New York City and the fact I would need to find one in 13,087 cabs.  When I get on that show, I am not going to speak superfluously.  Absolutely no jokes or cheering!  That is the number 1 problem with the people on that show.  Don't they understand he can ask more questions if they shut up!?  More questions equals more money.  To put this into motion, I need to take extended leave from work and relocate Cutthroat Yarn to the streets of NYC.  This isn't going to net any money, even if I make it into the Cash Cab.  They give out less than 2k.  But, a dream is a dream. 

Sometime, Anytime, Sugar Me Sweet

Today, I reached a low point.  The lowest point you can imagine, plus a few more feet down.  I am in the midst of a diet, and not one that includes forgetting to eat because I am in the midst of feverish knitting.  Today walking home and for the past few days, I have seen a half eaten snickers bar just carelessly tossed on the sidewalk.  I may have fantasized about what it would be like to eat it.  I have calculated the points in my head the past couple of times walking by it (3.5 to my best estimate).  I didn't pick it up.  I know that would be crossing the line.  But, I definitely thought about it.  A lot.  Now, I am going back to feverish knitting to keep me from baking something ridiculous and thus blowing my diet.   How will I ever get past this Halloween with fun size candy everywhere?  Maybe I could knit a picture of myself at my heaviest and it will keep my hands busy and at the same time serve as reinforcement.  This is an idea I need to explore...

If We Took a Holiday

God, I love Christopher Columbus.  There's nothing better than getting a day off of work to celebrate a guy who basically walked into someone's house and said, "Hey, I am discovering your place.  And, I am going to call it India."  Love it.  I will admit that today is probably the most ridiculous holiday that we get off.  To be fair, Mr. Cutthroat has a rougher gig than I do.  He is working hard under the florescent lighting.  Here I am-spending the time at home on a beautiful day rather than sitting in a cubicle.  Other holidays, ie. Veteran's Day, there is a legitimate reason for celebrating.  Columbus Day is literally celebrating some bully.  To celebrate this example of colonialism, I am going to knit the hell out of this Christmas stocking in the name of Columbus Day.  But, maybe after the sun sets.  It is way too beautiful outside that I can't sit still.  I could barely get this blog post done with the sun shining in my face. 

Cause That Was My Favorite Year

I am getting ready to start my first Christmas project of the season.  It seems like Christmas is so far off.  I guess we do have two more holidays between now and then.  But, if you don't get a jump on the red and green knits, you will succumb to the tryptophan and it is all downhill from there.  Last year, I was super ambitious and I made knits for all the ladies in my family.  This year, I have so much going on for Cutthroat Yarn on Etsy, and I am very happy for that.  I will barely have time to knit baby booties!  I am pretty sure the furry members of the Cutthroat family will be glad to hear I will not have time to knit them tiny hats and sweaters, as they are definitely not fans of my knitting.  I am anxious to get going on Christmas themes in my knitting.  Knit up some trees and Santas and break out the eggnog.  The year is almost over and it is hard for me to believe.  I feel as if I can remember every part of every day, although I am sure that is not the case.  I tend to leave the parts out of my memory where I have been embarrassed, wrong, or otherwise stupid.  And, although I am trying extremely hard, I cannot seem to forget the time when we rented Paul Blart: Mall Cop.  I am still working on that. 

Go On and Take It Off

I have had a lot of free time this week.  I mean, A LOT.  I have taken some naps, knitted some goods, and carded fiber.  Beyond that, I went to the grocery store 4 times this week.  I love LOVE love grocery shopping.  And, to a girl that has been on a diet for 20 years, it is like food porn.  During one of my trips this week, I was looking in the cosmetics aisle and ran across the scenario depicted here.  Why would they put Krazy Glue in the waxing section?  Is is possible to glue your eyebrow back on if you take off too much?  I have personally never tried it, but I seriously doubt it.  Is this what happened to Frida Kahlo?  Waxing is one of those things that once it's done, it's done.  Much like, for me, when I am knitting cables.  Once I screw that up, I might as well pull it out because I can't get back on track, as we have addressed in a previous post.  I am getting ready to start my first fair isle project and I am hoping there is a Krazy Glue option.  For those non-knitting readers:  fair isle is the type of knitting that incorporates a couple colors at once to make a groovy pattern. And, I say groovy because while some fair isle is beautiful, it is a fine line to walk before it looks very 70s.

Just One Sock, Now Baby I Believe

I can't remember the last time I commuted to work without hearing the song "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry.  It appears to be on everyday, at any point in the day, either on the radio or on my IPod.  I cannot remember what my commute was like before "Teenage Dream," and maybe I don't want to.  That's how I feel about knitting my socks.  I started this project several months ago.  The first one, I zipped right through.  I was so excited about my progress that I forgot to do the other one.  Now, I am stuck in the middle of this &*^$ other sock.  I cannot remember what my life was like before I was knitting this second sock.  And, that is something I would rather forget.  Knitting socks always seems like a good idea at the time.  Then, you remember you have two feet.  I know that if I just sat down and committed to the sock, I could make it happen.  But, I can never justify spending time on things that are only for me.  It is a crime that socks take this long to produce.  They seem so small, and it lures me in with the fancy sock yarns.  No one ever sees them, though.  I need to try out baby booties.  With those, I could get the thrill of making socks out of my system for much smaller feet. 

So Much for the Afterglow

I am riding high on the fiber festival afterglow.  Mr. Cutthroat and I drove to the local fiber festival, where I entered my saffron skein in the handspun fiber division.  I was very happy with my very first competition and my very first ribbon!  I won 3rd place, and I think I could have taken first had I not tied my skein with commercial yarn.  Next year, I will not be making the same mistake.  Watch out, because I will be taking the blue ribbon next year.
I bought so many treasures at the festival that Mr. Cutthroat looked like a pack mule.  My pride and joy was this bag of fleece I bought.  It will be my first time taking it all the way through the process from alpaca to yarn.  I'd love to have my own yarn booth at a fiber festival some day.  The people at the booths are really, how should I say this in a diplomatic way, eccentric.  We walked into a booth with beautifully dyed roving and fiber.  I noticed the woman holding down the fort was wearing very intricate slippers that appeared as if they were hand knitted.  "Love your slippers," I told the woman.  "Thanks, I traded these for meat."  As she said it her face was so serious that it was as if she didn't even find what she said at all odd.  That pretty much describes 75% of fiber enthusiasts.  I want to be her someday.  I want to be all crazy in a fiber/yarn tent making odd comments to my patrons.  And, although I am not positive, I think Mr. Cutthroat could get on board with that.  He could grow Chester A. Arthur mutton chops and make people uncomfortable.  This could be a viable retirement option.

Who Says You Have to Unpack? Been All Around the World and That's a Matter of Fact

We are getting closer to being unpacked.  Yes, it has been a week.  Yes, normal people would have been hosting dinner parties by now in a box-free apartment.  Yes, we have about a quarter left to go.  But, I'm working on it!  Stop judging me!  We got the staples unpacked like plates, yarn, and my Felicity box set.  We are able to function day to day with the things we have already unpacked.  It is just the other stuff that we don't immediately need that is just dragging on.  I  cannot justify unpacking my books when I could be knitting.  There's always have something else I would rather be doing.  I'd rather play Boggle, I'd rather paint my fingernails, I'd rather do laundry, I'd rather spin, etc.  Today is no different as it is Sheep and Wool time.  We are heading down to fiber festival this afternoon regardless of how this apartment looks.  Not to mention, the rains have lifted and the sun is shining, lighting the way to the Fall Fiber Festival!

What's Wrong Baby? Don't They Eat You Like They Should?

Tis the season for fiber festivals and my #1 goal is to attend as many as humanly possible.  Because of this, Mr. Cutthroat is trying to convince me to take him along.  He knows that left alone to roam through tents of yarn and wool, it is only going to be bad for our budget.  Mr. Cutthroat is feigning interest in the sheep dog trials and he knows this will pay off in the long run when I don't bring home an alpaca to live in my yarn loft.  And, believe me, I am not above having an alpaca in my yarn loft.
Lately, I have been keeping a journal of ideas, and as a result, I have a huge list of things to buy at the fiber festival.  I'd like to find a drum carder so I can start with a fleece to take it from the sheep all the way through to the finished product.  If I can keep my husband away from my purchases, I should be able to acquire enough to keep me in fiber all the way through to next year.  Maybe, just maybe, my husband will enjoy himself in the gyro and kabob section of the festival.  By the way, I was woefully unprepared for the gyro and kabob section of my first sheep and wool festival.  There is something totally morbid about a festival dedicated to every part of an animal, from raising it to wearing it to eating it.  Don't get me wrong, I am a gyro fan.  It's just that it is hard to eat a gyro while staring a sheep and carrying around bags of its fleece.  They look at you and you know they know.  I will power through the 'baa' sounds and eat that gyro with the best of them, and I will go home and enjoy my fleece.  

Uno, Dos, Tres, It's On

My favorite night to knit is always Tuesdays.  The key to being a productive knitter, at least for me, is to have something interesting going on in the background.  And, Tuesdays mean Teen Moms.  I sit down on the couch with my Crystal Light Fruit Punch, a knitting project, and a healthy dose of Gary taking naps and driving around in his van.  Teen Moms is not something you have to actively watch.  It can be on in the background while you are counting rows and still get the basic gist that Farrah is a total idiot.  (Geese not ducks!)  For the project I am making now, I am cabling.  Those who have done a cable project know that keeping track of your rows requires a certain amount of concentration.  Teen Moms is the absolute limit to what I can watch while cabling.  I have learned the hard way that I cannot cable at Ktog.  There is too much wine and conversation that requires my full attention.  I have definitely had to rip out a project or two during Ktog.  Never again.  I don't know what I am going to be able to jump into once this season is over.  I am open to suggestions that don't involve Cougar Town. 

Forty Two Stairs From the Street

With the move complete, I am sitting in my new space, surrounded by boxes.  This weekend, in a word:  overwhelming.  I am going to have to die in this new place before I move ever again.  To paint a picture of complete and total absurdity, we moved 36 wine glasses of varying sizes, types, and composition.  That doesn't even include high ball and margarita glasses.  Mr. Cutthroat and I hardly drink.  It seems as though these things accumulate.  Perhaps our animals are throwing wicked ragers when we are at work.  Or, at least I hope someone is getting use out of them.  It was a hard sell to Mr. Cutthroat as to why I required a patio set in a new patioless place.  It was even harder to convince him that we needed three gravy boats.  The move was not pretty.  But, I now have a fantastic place and a yarn room to take Cutthroat Yarn up a notch.  And, here I am blogging and knitting instead of unpacking.  A very wise FB friend once told me that I should knit until I hear my husband coming home, then I should race and pretend to unpack a box.  Very, very wise advice. 

I Don't Want to Wait for My Project to Be Over

I could never make it on the Jersey Shore.  My body isn't capable of staying out past 11:30 anymore, and I can't even imagine dancing until 6 AM.  If I am discovered in a bar at closing time, it is because I have died on the stool.  Other than that, I cannot compile a reasonable explanation as to why I am not at home in bed.  It is embarrassing to admit, but I am only barely past the quarter life crisis stage.  What the Jersey Shore needs is a wise middle aged knitter with wisdom who gives great life advice.  I could be the modern day "Grams" from the 'Creek.  I don't even need to make what the Situation makes per episode.  I would be content making half that.  Everyone could be "smooshing" and doing the "GTL" thing and I could be spinning yarn in a corner making witty observations.  I will say that being cast for the Jersey Shore is like winning the lottery for those people.  It requires no outright skill or aptitude, yet it yields big bucks.  I don't think I would be suitable for any show on television right now.  But, if anyone hears of a casting agent looking to cast any of the following, please let me know:  Who Wants to Be Taylor Swift's Best Friend?; Commuting Nightmares; Practical Jokes Gone Awry; Watching Someone Knitting For Hours; and Why John Adams Was A Terrible President.  I would be a natural, especially if a few of those were combined to where I would be knitting while knocking John Adams while Taylor Swift plays in the background.  Another million dollar idea!

It's A Difficulty and I'm Biting On My Tounge

Tonight I posted a skein I finished over the weekend as seen here:  Cutthroat Yarn on Etsy.  It was beautiful to spin because it was part silk.  It was my first time with a silk blend and it was so smooth and really made a gorgeous skein.  The best part of spinning and dyeing skeins is coming up with cutesy names for each.  It does require some major self-editing on my behalf, however.  Sometimes I would like to display the sarcastic nature of my personality, but I have to realize that not everyone would get the humor of a skein entitled "Rainbow Sherbet on Meth."  Is this what it is like when it comes time to name your children?  I have taken some creative liberties with naming the furrier members of the Cutthroat family.  But, the only embarrassing part is when you take them to the veterinarian.  I have to face facts that when the time comes and if we are blessed with having our very own baby models for bonnets and booties, I will have to rein it in much like on Etsy.  Farewell to our well thought out children's names Tecumseh Lincoln Springsteen III and Lady Debbie Gibson Snugglepants. 

Change Clothes and Go

It feels like it is still summer.  Yet, when I was out and about this weekend, I saw temporary Halloween stores popping up.  Halloween always seems like something that happens when it is brisk outside, and here it is supposed to be 89 degrees this week.  I am starting to see what kind of Halloween patterns are out there for the making.  I haven't been too impressed with what I've seen lately.  Then again, I am not sure what I am really expecting.  There are a lot of themed tea cozy patterns.  I know I definitely don't want those.  (On a side note, how many tea cozies does one person need?  If I just went by the old school patterns available out there, I would comfortably say that every knitter has 200.  What is a tea cozy really used for anyway?  Isn't it just a doily?)  Halloween always brings out a very indecisive person that I usually grow annoyed with in others.  I always have these grand ideas of elaborate, themed costumes and by the 11th hour when we are on the way to some party, I give up, change clothes and go as a risque ________.  The blank changes from year to year to whatever is easily accessible and clean.  Maybe I should over task myself and knit an entire costume in a month...  Then, if I get it halfway done, I could make it a "risque" theme! 

How'd I Turn My Meat Shirt Inside Out?

I have been interested in knitting with unconventional objects as of late, not anything too out of the box though.  I have seen yarn made out of t-shirts, jeans and those sort of things.  I need to do some research to see what the finish products look like before I go through the process of making t-shirt yarn.  It has got to be pretty durable for project, I would think.  And, I finally will have good reason to de-tshirt my dresser.  Maybe if this Lady Gaga meat dress takes off, I could always make a meat scarf.  I am not sure I could provide the refrigerator space to keep meat clothing past one wear.  I'm also unsure if I could sell a meat scarf to anyone other than the most die hard Lady Gaga fan. 

I Will Buy You A New Fleece, Perfect Shiny and New

This week I sent my saffron skein to be judged by the latest sheep and wool festival in my area.  I'm hoping for a good showing.  Maybe everyone who is competing, except for me, has had a really off year.  Anyone who knows me, knows that I am intensely competitive.  I would love to win against a bunch of tough entries but, I hope everyone sucks a little bit.  If I lose, Mr. Cutthroat is going to have a lot of comforting to do.  I am still going to the sheep and wool festival, though.  I am planning on purchasing my first fleece and going from start to finish in the process.  If I could shear the sheep myself, I would.  I will also spend a lot of time at the sheep and wool festival resisting buying a sheep.  There are no guarantees since I will be husbandless and extra susceptible to the cuteness of livestock.  Wish me luck on my yarn entry!

Sheep Go to Heaven, Goats Go to Hell

I have been working to formulate a solid argument for why it is financially sound for me to purchase a sheep.  There is so much technical information for clueless, would-be sheep herders like myself who think they can never have too much wool. But, a serious lack of dollars and cents.  This article is kind of my favorite:  Get Started in Raising Sheep.  The best part of the article is where it says you must be strong to own a sheep in order to "flip a sheep over for various activities."  Whoa.  This just got real.  Furthermore, I think I just want a sterile sheep.  I accidentally saw picture of a ewe getting ready to give birth and I'm not prepared for those bells and whistles.  An old lady sheep that isn't into doin' it would be perfect.  And, even if it is a lady sheep, I will name it Mr. Fidgets.  There's no way anyone can find a better name for a sheep.  But, I digress.  I'm starting to get a good background for what it takes to be a sheep owner, but no financial information.  Is this going to be as expensive as boarding a horse?  More research to be done, less graphic pictures viewed. 

Move Along, Move Along

My house is in utter chaos!  The Cutthroat family has started packing and it isn't pretty.  On a whim, we packed most of our kitchen utensils and spices.  We've also stopped buying groceries because it is less to move.  Our grand plan seemed like it was making sense.  That is, until today.  I cannot, cannot, cannot eat Hamburger Helper for two weeks.  This plan will need to be amended, stat!  I have prioritized my life and food is clearly at the bottom and my wheel will be the last to get packed.  I hate moving.  If I could die in the house I am currently in, I would, and not because I like it.  I wonder how heavy 10,000 yards of yarn is going to be when carrying it up an elevatorless building?  I wonder if I can train my cats to act as pack mules.

And, It Was All Yellow

Saffron, fiber, & water simmering 

 This weekend has been consumed with dyeing in the fiber.  I took some tips from Skeevy, a fellow Ktogger (see previous post), in dyeing with saffron.  What have I learned from this jaunt into hand dyeing  fiber?  Saffron is the most expensive spice in the world to harvest, a handcarder is a must, and my husband is employee of the month.  This picture doesn't really do justice to the beautiful yellow that the saffron produced.  I would recommend saffron for a natural dye in the future, although it isn't entirely economical to large amounts of fiber.  I ended up with a beautiful bright color that I spun and eventually plied with a natural dark shetland fiber.  It took about a day and a half before the skein was dyed, spun, plied, and washed before I finally finished.  I have decided to enter this skein in a sheep and wool competition.  I think this has opened up a whole new world for me with regards to dyeing fiber.  I like the way that it has depth and dimension in color when it is spun before the dyeing.  This fiber, on the other hand,

Finished skein drying

was actually pretty even in color.  Skeevy, the aforementioned Ktogger, has good recommendations for dying in Kool-Aid.  That is my very next project.  I feel like using natural dyes is so low maintenance that it is a no brainer.  I think Mr. Cutthroat is very happy to have this project wrapped up.  He was stressed on trying to help me wind my yarn and keep the yellow dye from penetrating everything in our kitchen.  He thinks the dyeing is done.  And, it is-until next weekend!

Girl Talk About the Knitting Too

I learned to knit a very short time ago by a small group of yarn savvy ladies at the end of 2008.  Before they took me under their wing at their Ktog meetings, I was totally clueless.  Although I am grateful they have passed on their knowledge, I feel like I should be upset that they have turned me on to a hobby that has taken over my life.  Now that I have moved, I have taken the Ktog spirit with me to my new home.  Every week, we get together to drink some wine, talk about relationships, then eventually knit.  East Coast Ktog has seen a number of breakups.  No relationship is safe under our mighty microscope.  Because of this, the men-folk are all up in arms about a ladies only group where they are often the topic of conversation.  They attempt to limit conversation with arbitrary restrictions on what we can discuss.  Mr. Cutthroat is seemingly immune to the topics of conversation because he figures everyone already knows everything anyway.  But, I always get the "What do you guys talk about?" and  "Did anyone mention me?"  from other significant others and crushes.  My lips are sealed.  Maybe fears would be quelled with a men's only party to discuss our relationships?  Actually, scratch that.  That makes me worry.

I'll Keep Yarn My Dirty Little Secret. Who Has to Know?

America seems to be totally into hoarders these days.  Every other channel has some kind of hoarding program or special.  And, I, like the rest of America, am oddly fascinated.  The best one, by far, is the Animal Planet's take on the hoarding situation with Confessions in Animal Hoarding.  I pull up my wheel to the couch and tune in.  Every other minute, I'm rewinding to do a double take.  How do you not notice the situation going on in your house when every thing you own is covered in cat urine?  I have a hard enough time trying to keep my cats out of my yarn.  If they peed on it, oh hell no.  These shows have put out the call for hoarding freaks and it has been answered 10 fold.  It's almost like a competition to see which hoarder can have the most desperate situation.  Mr. Cutthroat has accused me on an occasion or two of being a yarn hoarder.  And, that is the main reason I record them and force the recordings on him.  I want him to have a healthy sense that it could always be worse.  Watching that has made me anxious- I need to go declutter.

Don't Stop Til You Knit Enough

I am considering buying a rabbit.  Getting an angora rabbit will take this yarn business to the next level.  And, I am kind of using that as an excuse because angora rabbits are ridiculously adorable.  If I was in the country, I'd quit my job and buy a sheep.  But, being practical in the big city, I have to stick to a rabbit.  Everything I own could be made of angora.  Oh, the possibilities!  If I go this route, the animals will outnumber the humans in my household.  This is a scary prospect considering one of my cats would jump at the chance to eat my face if I took a long nap.  Rabbits seem less vicious, all except for Bunnicula. 

I've Got My Toes in the Water, Knitting in the Sand

This weekend, I took a break from Cutthroat and the world.  With family in town, we celebrated Labor Day like everyone else within driving distance to water--at the beach.  I brought knitting along, but I am always worried the sand will permanently invade my project, in this case socks, and I will forever be finding sand in my toes.  I didn't pull it out once I was parked under my umbrella.  I did get a great idea for a pattern though, sort of like a swim suit cover up, and I will be taking some time to write the pattern this week. Maybe a knitted bikini would be hot-literally and figuratively.  It would likely be see-through and it would most certainly need to be as light weight as possible.  A knitted bikini could serve a niche in the polar bear plunge community where you would need a warm suit.  And really, what's warmer than wool?  What an itchy concept for an article of clothing!  That does not sound lady part friendly.  I'll knit up one and have Mr. Cutthroat model it.  Yikes!

Let's Have Some Fun, My Husband's Sick, I'd Like A Pattern For Disco Knits

The plague!  The Cutthroat household has been having some health issues as of late.  I was deathly ill earlier this week and now Mr. Cutthroat is catching the same illness that is recycling through our central air ducts.  When I was laying on what I was convinced was my death bed, I didn't even have it in me to spin or knit.  That's the true sign of a sick knitter.  I had two days free of work that I could have easily spent making yarn, and it just went to waste.  I hope that this weekend makes a strong recovery so that the Mr. and I can have a solid Labor Day Weekend.  Ideally, I'd like to take my knitting beach-side while enjoying several cat naps and playing "who's probably peeing in the ocean" with members of my group.  If Pukey Mcsleepsitoff doesn't quickly get better, this is going to be a downer of a weekend.  Although, this may be an incident that I can extort in the future for cash and prizes. I will have to keep that in mind.

It's Like The More Roving We Come Across, The More Problems We See

Sometimes I have these projects that just wear on for what seems like decades.  Right now, I am (and have been) spinning 2 pounds of merino wool that seem to be reproducing at a rate that I cannot spin fast enough to stave off.  I can feel the downward slide coming as we start to approach the holidays as the other non-yarn aspects of my life start hitting me.  Like a shark, I need to keep moving, stay productive.  In a couple weeks, we'll be moving ourselves and the furrier members of our family into a new place.  The thought of all the tasks that come with moving is overwhelming.  But, on the upside, I have convinced Mr. Cutthroat to make the new loft space into my spinning, knitting emporium.  And, when I say convinced, I mean left my yarn all over the house until it became such an annoyance that he was forced into making the loft space all mine, kitty free.  Hopefully, this new loft will give me just the solitude I need to finish off the merino roving.  Or, maybe this venture will end up like when I played guitar in middle/high school.  I would sit in my room thinking about boys and then when I heard any authority figures headed up the stairs, I quickly strummed a note to make it sound like I was practicing.  60% of the time, it worked every time. 

Leave Me Alone, I'm Spinning All Night Long-It's a Family Tradition

I am formulating a plan to put my husband to work post election.  I am going to form a modern day sweatshop.  Mr. Cutthroat can learn to comb, card, and dye yarn.  And, maybe I can go one step further by getting that Angora rabbit I have been wanting so he can comb it while I am at work.  Our apartment can be a fiber factory.  Now, I need to subtly lay the groundwork about how manly it is to comb rabbits.  This could be a little more of an undertaking than I originally anticipated.  I have been talking up the Knitting Truckers like I personally wrote the article.  Surely, my husband might relate the burly, gruff testosterone nature of a long haul trucker on the go with a kickin' beret  on his circulars.  Perhaps not. 

Everywhere I Go, You Know, I Take Yarn with Me

I always feel like a willing participant in a freak show when I bust my needles out in public.  People I don't know feel compelled to stop and share knitting stories about someone they once knew who's grandma once made a pair of socks, or maybe it was a pair of mittens.  I love sitting somewhere with my knitting and someone gives me that nod and smile, as if to say, "hey, I knit too!"  Maybe I have gone a bit overboard in chosen venues.  Powering through that cable knit scarf at a water park was a tad excessive.  But, in my defense, it was Omaha and I was a new knitter!  I have learned some tough lessons from bringing certain patterns to inconvenient places, such as, never ever bring a project with specific counts to a barbecue--just bring your drop spindle instead.

But, I Can't Help Falling in Love with Yarn

When I started knitting, I promised myself that I would only commit to doing one project at a time.  As I came to know more and more knitters, I heard the horror stories from the ladies about rooms of unfinished projects.  Well, patterns cross your eye, you run across that once in a lifetime dye lot, or -gasp- a sale and it happens.  Right now, I've got socks, a cashmere scarf, and two skeins of yarn floating in the unfinished air.  Cutthroat Yarn has motivated me to finish all these projects and get back on track.  I have got to put my blinders on and bypass all that fancy fiber and yarn until I get some of these projects locked up.  No thank you, tiny baby sweater!  Not now, laptop cover!  And, not so fast, hipster tie! 

At Last, My Yarn Has Come Along

I spent the better part of my day watching my loving husband wind my pretty handspun skeins onto my niddy noddy.  As I get this business off the ground, I am realizing how lucky I am to have a supportive husband to counteract the unsupportive cats.  Which, by the way, the cat-yarn relationship seems to be more complex than I could have anticipated.