Monday, February 27, 2006

Reason #127 why I need to spend more time writing

I really need to fill up notebooks before I've carried them around so long they start to smell funny. I don't know what that smell is. It's not foul, just a bit stale. The first time I experienced it was after I was caught in the rain at the cricket, and the notebook that was in my bag that day got quite damp. Unsurprisingly, it smelled funny after that, and after a while I replaced it even though it wasn't full. But since then I've noticed that some notebooks seem to take on a lesser but distinctive whiff after a while, even without the dampness.

I get sick of them about half way through anyway. There is nothing more compelling than a new notebook. Who knows what might unfold in its pages. I have to watch myself because I'm always looking for excuses to start a new one, coming up with slightly different purposes for them and carrying them all around in my bag. Including sometimes the beautiful (not smelly) little one my sister made for me - can't put anything so pedestrian as a shopping list in that one.

This post brought to you from the pages of a notebook that is three fifths done and not smelling so fresh.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes

Taken 23 December 2005.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

How loose is your goose?

Of course the other day, the day that I discovered on the way to work that my book was defective, was the very same day I forgot my keys and had to kill about an hour on the back step waiting for Kam to come home. Luckily for me, perhaps not so for you, I had my camera and my dogs to entertain me.

"Mia! Did you see the pussy cat?"

"I've got it over here!"

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Every day my confusion grows

I often read for a few minutes before I go to sleep at night. It's never very long because I get sleepy pretty quickly. In fact I'm usually sleepy by the time I go to bed and I'm just trying to squeeze in a few minutes extra reading time.

Only occasionally I find myself so immersed in the world of a book that I spend part of that night dreaming about it. The other night I was nearing the end of the Time Travellers Wife. It's a fairly intense read and especially so towards the end. I woke up about 2am realising I was irritated because I had been in a cycle of dreaming I was somewhere in the book (and if you've read it you'll know that it has a cyclical way about it), half-waking to vigorously scratch three mosquito bites on my foot, and seeming to return to the dream. After what seemed like endless rounds of this I became alert enough to get up and stand in the bathroom, figure out why my foot was so itchy, remember that vinegar is supposed to help, go to the kitchen for some vinegar (and a glass of water).

Today I was onto a new book, one in a series that I really enjoy (Phil Rickman's Merrily Watkins books). I was reading on the bus this morning when this happened. Suddenly something didn't make sense and I realised that the next page wasn't really the next page. I hoped that maybe the sections of pages were just out of order and I would be able to find page 27 somewhere and keep reading. Sadly, it was not to be. From 59 the book wanders on all normal-like up to page 90, then it blows its cool and jumps back to 59 again. Pages 27 to 58 are nowhere at all. So frustrating. I'm just glad I wasn't further into it. And also that I didn't pay more than $10 for the book. Still. Grrrr.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Pull this thread as I walk away

Yesterday I was steamed. There was an ISSUE that had been PROVOKING me for YEARS and I was gonna BLOG about it. Then I gor sidetracked onto trying to fix the poxy layout of my previous post, and failing, and then I had a tantrum and then I went to sleep. Anyway, I suppose there is really not much to this great big issue. It's just bra straps. I think I was overreacting a bit. Fashion dictates that bra straps are acceptable now. I'm just old fashioned, prudish even. It's just a strap. Who cares! (well, me, but apparently no one else under the age of 35).

Most of the time I can put up with it. A spaghetti strap tank with the bra straps following the same line as the top is bearable. But I'll always think it looks hilarious when I see a skimpy halterneck top not at all covering a massive wide strap support bra. It's a good idea to check the back view in the mirror before going out. So, when we meet in a work situation, and because of the shape or strappiness of your top (or, God forbid, its transparency), I know what colour your bra is, I will always think that's not cool. I just can't help it. It just looks so sloppy. I think too-casual jeans and t-shirt is preferable to that.

This post is coming to you from the outside world. Yes I have finally freed my computer from the shackles of dial-up internet and logged on using free public access wireless internet at a local cafe. To celebrate, I remembered how to use the timer on my camera and took a kind of bored-looking photo of myself sitting here. Actually I'm not bored, let's call it pensive. Probably overcompensating for how excited I actually am to be using this free and faster-than-dialup internet connection, and how it's kind of embarassing to be taking a photo of myself, especially since I'm sitting right under an open window opposite where they make the coffee.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

There she goes, there she goes again

Before I launched into making all those felted bowls, I did an image search for others out there. I already had an idea in mind of how they would look and feel, having made a few felted pouches, but I was curious how others did it. It turned out to be really hard to find good clear pictures, even though there has been plenty of interest in felting and fulling of knitted fabric. (Actually today's search results are a bit better than they were a few months ago).

I think the reason I couldn't find many really delicious, clear pictures that capture the texture well, was because fluffy felt is hard to photograph. At least, that't what I've found in my limited amateur experience. It always looks a bit out of focus, and it sometimes reflects the light in a strange way too. Maybe one of these days I'll make one and shave the fluff off closely and see how that goes.

The 'before' pictures just seem much clearer

Okay, I concede that some of my modest, long-suffering audience may be a little bit over the whole felted bowls thing. How about I throw a cute dog into the mix? Happy now?

Saturday, February 04, 2006

Put it in your pantry with your cupcakes

I am working on a new knitting project, one I've been thinking about for years. I'm not sure I'm actually ready for it. So far I have painstakingly un-knit almost as many rows as I have knit. Knitters call this unkitting process 'tinking'. Another good word would be 'excruciating'. It's what you do when, because of the properties of the pattern or the yarn or both, you can't just pull the needle out, rip back a few rows, and successfully put the needle back in. The first bit of tinking I did on this project actually introduced another error. So several of the rows have actually been un-knit and re-knit twice. Glargh.

Below are some before and after photos of one of the Christmas felted bowls. I start by crocheting the bowl holding two or three varying strands together. The content is almost all wool, as this is the stuff that actually felts. You can get away with a bit of other stuff in there for novelty.

It's much like crocheting a hat then putting it upside down. I would like to knit some bowls but I haven't psyched myself up to knitting in a circle, yet.