Yeah, I swear every now and then. I guess that makes me a naughty little monkey. If you have a problem with that, more power to ya. Everyone needs a hobby.
WIPs
Gong Stampato
FOs
Hot Head x 2
Ribbed-for-Her-Pleasure-Scarf
'04
Hot Head x 1
Top Secret
Black Bag
Zeeby's Bag
Big Bad Baby Blanket
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Tuesday, December 14, 2004 |
You know, it's pretty tough to take a picture of a snake like that. They're always moving and you only have one hand to hold the camera steady. The end result can be a little blurry, as seen here. But that's my girl, nonetheless.
So, what got me into reptiles, anyway? I'm not really sure. I can remember exposure to snakes when I was in elementary school. The principal, Mr. Kent, had something of a reptile collection. Mr. Kent would bring a snake or lizard out sometimes and let us look at it while we were waiting for the bus. He would always answer questions and let us touch the animals, probably to prove that there was nothing to be afraid of. I'm sure that had a big impact on me.
The first time that I wanted a snake for a pet was also in elementary school. I saw a mom waiting for her kid to get out of class and she was holding this garter snake. She was showing it to the children and other moms and talking about how she got it a PETCO or something. She had a little carry case for it and everything. At that moment, owning a snake became a very attractive idea to me. I'm still not sure why. My mother's exact word were "Not while you live in this house."
When I was a sophomore in high school, I got straight A's for the first, and only, time. My parents asked me what I wanted as a reward. I said I wanted a snake.
Mom had to cave in.
Dad made me research several types of snakes before he let me make a purchase. I thought that a ribbon snake would be cool since they eat guppies which can be purchased for, like, 75 cents. The other part of the deal with my dad was he had to see me handle the snake before it was brought home. That's when I found out, in the middle of the store, that ribbons aren't too keen on being held and spray when they're picked up. Boo.
A customer in that pet store gave us the name of another store that had, supposedly, a good reptile selection. We trekked over there and zeroed in on a rough green snake. Rough greens eat crickets, stay small and don't have teeth. It seemed like a good match. I picked it up and we headed home with my new pet in a brown paper bag. This was just the beginning of strange things being brought home in brown paper bags.
Pandora was pretty cool, but she didn't last long. Actually, she died a month after I got her. I was young, inexperienced and maintaining a tropical humidity level in Tucson's climate was far harder than I expected. I was devestated, but determined. Pandora's legacy lived on.
I got Marc Anthony on sale for $45 from a more reputable in-town reptile store. He was a California kingsnake that I brought home as a hatchling in a deli cup. Marc had a bit of an attitude. I was still young and inexperienced, so handling him was no easy feat. I learned a lot from Marc, but it was not meant to be. I had been using my chem book to hold down one side of his cage and I turned it back in at the end of my junior year. Lo and behold, Marc escaped, but before I could find him, my brother's cat ate him. I was devestated, but still determined.
Though I was still learning loads about reptiles, keeping them wasn't working out. I let it go until last year when I got the itch...and bad. I cleaned up my old terrarium and tried to keep the set-up a secret from my mom, who still didn't like the idea. I anxiously awaited the reptile show and dragged Mike along with me.
I'm like a kid in a candy shop when I go to a herp show. It's almost embarassing. Finally, I picked out a breeder that I liked and settled on a beautiful baby cornsnake. I quized the breeder: "When was she born? Has she eaten yet? Frozen or live?" and gave the snake a good once over. I was inexpirenced no more. In fact, I knew exactly what I was doing. After I made the purchase, the breeder commented that I was the most prepared person he'd seen all day. Oh, hell yeah.
So, that's how I got Nora. I know a ton about reptiles now and I'm a member of the Tucson Herpetological Society. I love learning about herps and would like to increase my collection, but that's just not a possibility right now. Someday, I'll have a snake room with iguanas and boas and a gorgeous milksnake. Until then, I have my beautiful little Nora to dote on and that's plenty fine with me.
*On a side note, I'm big on herp issues. Reptiles should not be bought from pet stores! If you ever have questions about reptile care or keeping, please contact me or check out Kingsnake.com.*
Marc Anthony
"A reptile to Remember"
This is a tribute to my snake
Who, in the sunny month of June
Did from his charmers cage escape.
Not being satisfied with that,
He sped away with snake-like haste,
And was promptly eaten by the cat.
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Monday, December 13, 2004 |
I hate screwing up!! In fact, I work very hard to make sure that I don't make a mistake in my knitting because I'm terrified of frogging.
Well, some things just aren't meant to be..
I had to rip back *several* inches on my mom's sweater because I messed up on the armhole decreases. Bah! Then, I ended up with one more stitch than I was suposed to have. Do you think I knew how to remedy this? Oh, god, you're too kind. No, I didn't know how to fix it. Clueless. So, I did what I always do when I don't know something...I made up a solution (highly effective in driving, though not always safe or legal. Isn't that right, officer?). I tinked another row.
...still one stitch too many.
Then panic set in. Somehow, by an act of a demon, I'd cast on an extra stitch. And, somehow, I'd incorporated that stitch into the pattern. What horror! I'm not sure if what I did was the right thing, but I just decreased that stitch so that the pattern would still work out. No way I'm starting over. Nooooo way.
Mom's sweater is turning into a nightmare.
WIP update!
That's the first legwarmer for Bethie and the first slipper for dad.
I wanted to make dad socks for Christmas, but when it became clear that it wasn't going to work out, I figured that he would still love me if I gave him slippers. I tweaked the pattern a bit to accomodate for my dad's large (size 14) feet. I showed what I had so far to my mom tonight and told her that I was concerned that perhaps I was making them too big. It's hard for me to estimate and I can't measure dad's feet without giving the project away (I'm big on surprises). We decided that my brother might work out for a foot model and I asked my mom to tell him to see me. Two minutes later, she walks back out to the kitchen with my dad and says, "Oh, Leah, your brother is in the shower. But maybe you could use your dad's feet as an example?"
...
Is she totally dumb? I specifically told her to keep this a secret from my dad. Thank god he didn't know what we were talking about (and was totally distracted by making speculaas). I'm sure that I could have measured his feet and have gotten away with it, but the whole point was that I didn't want to raise any suspicion whatsoever. Is that so hard for her to understand?
The weekend wasn't a total waste. Here's a picture of Mike's adorable cat, Isis:
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Thursday, December 09, 2004 |
Look, guys, Nora shed!
Didn't I tell you that she was the best little girl ever?! I always know when she's ripe to peel. We both have our routines and if I don't see her for a day, well, that means it's time. That and she didn't eat last week. Thank god it wasn't a respiratory infection!
I seriously tried to snap a shot of her in the process of shedding, but it's pratically impossible. She is generally not down with the camera going off while she's undressing ;o) Can ya blame her?
I started on Bethie's leg warmers tonight. She's thrilled. I picked out purple and pink because I thought it would be fun and girlie. But, I want to make it perfectly clear that I would not wear these colors. Sorry, Beth. I almost bit the head off of everyone at JoAnn's. Is it so hard to organize the shelves so that people can actually find things!? Course, sometimes going to that place is better than dealing with the snobs at the LYS *coughPurl'scough*
What? Oh, yeah, the leg warmers. So far...
Wow, that's some crappy knitting. How'd that get in there? I don't know what the deal is. Maybe it's the large (US 13) needles. Maybe it's that I suck. I'm not sure. Hold on, hold on...I think something is wrong with the camera. You know what? I've got the fish-eye lens on, how funny. And if you don't buy that...El Nino did it.
A big round of applause for Kristine. She's a good sport even though I dissed on her style (just a bit!! It wasn't aimed at you!!).
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Wednesday, December 08, 2004 |
Ok, I need to lay this out in the open. I am very annoyed by dramatic bloggers. I'm sorry, it's stupid. Take your emo and sit with the rest of the goth kids outside of the lunch room. Course, no one has to read a tragically dramatic blog and I sure as hell don't. But, here's my number one pet peeve about the blogs I do browse through:
"The senseless rambling ranting musings of an obsessed whoever"
Pick apart that sentence and you will see what I see on 1 in 4 blogs. Does everybody have to use those words in their description? Because - and I hope I'm being offensive here - it's dumb and unoriginal. It reminds me of a 13 year old girl sitting down with her fuzzy pink diary and babbleing about her secret crush. Yeah, we know it's about your thoughts and feelings. Get over yourself! Look at your fellow bloggers! They're all saying "musings,"! If I see that word again, I swear to god...
I guess it's especially annoying when I see this in, I'm sorry to say, knitting blogs. I mean, is nothing sacred in this overly emotional world? Sometimes a knit project is just a knit project. It's not a reason to drip on about your sorry life. People, show some anger, some humor! Don't be a slave to the man! Do something different, something out there. And, if you can help it at all, don't 'muse.'
I'm going to go ahead and steal something from Dave Chapelle here. Since I went on a rant that will probably anger 1 out of 4 people who read this site, I'm going to polish this thing off with a picture of my cat. That way it will channel out the hate.
This is pretty silly:
Gangsta Knitter
Thomas P.: I've got lots of trouble on my mind
My knitting's smooth as ice
My yarn is spinning
The whole wide world knows I'm winning.
People like to call me Gangsta Knitter
And I work with the needles that are bigger.
When you're finishing your first, I'm two-timing
Hear the nasty knitting rap that I'm rhyming
See I'm rich, see I'm smooth and fast
Knit so well knock you on your ass.
There's a new line this season
See my gauge, so even
Knit and purl, make you stand when you're sittin'
Like a trip on some page in Vogue Knitting.
Chorus: Gangsta Knitter, Knit for me!
Doug E. Fresh: Word up – I'm a Gangsta Knitter!
Get back to your baby sitter!
I'm so good, see my scarf? Doesn't curl
Number One, gettin' jiggy with the girls.
If you see me coming better step to one side
A lot of men didn't, though not many tried
One fist of mohair, the other of wool
I'm gonna knit your socks off you slow-knitting fool!
Look there, can't you see? My ribs are nice and tight
You're too slow you knitting neophyte.
When I'm finished my hems never pucker
Unlike your sorry seams mother fucker
Chorus: Gangsta Knitter, Knit for me!
Knitmaster SSK: Stand back boys,
you should both take a hike
Master SSK is stepping to the mike.
Your gauge is wrong, you dropped a stitch
I can knit so well that you'll both be my bitch!
You two scrubs you knit like a jackass
Don't ya know? I'm knitting with alpaca.
Didn't weave your ends in, you bind off tight
Your sweater's always looking like they just lost a fight!
Chorus: Gangsta Knitter, Knit for me!
Knitmaster SSK: Go back to patterns, little boys,
We're freestyling here.
Doug E. Fresh: Owww!
Thomas P.: Ouch!
Doug E. Fresh: Oh man, that was harsh!
Thomas P.: That was harsh, Doug…
Knitmaster SSK: Rip it out!
Thanks to Tom and Doug, whoever they are, I'm not sure. All I know is the Doug E. Fresh in this song is not the Doug E. Fresh that I know of. I guess this little 'rap' is travleing the blog circut, so I thought I'd do my part in sharing the gangsta love. Granted, it's got nothin' on Snoop or ODB (may he rest in peace).
Just look at how the socks are coming along!
How fun! The hard part is going to be the heel gusset and toe and all of that stuff that I have no idea how to do.
I finished the back of mom's sweater and I'm - oh - about halfway done with the front. I decided that dad is getting slippers and a bitchin power tool from Sears for Christmas. I can make socks for his birthday in March when I have this technique down.
I picked out a legwarmer pattern for Beth and I think that I can have them done by showtime next Friday. Did I mention that I'm assisting with stage managing for my old dance troupe? Did I even metion that I used to be a ballerina? Oh well, it wasn't that exciting anyway.
I ordered yarn for Hot Head, yay! The boys are going to be so happy, I can already tell. The hard part is going to be figuring out what size to make. Well, I have a brother, I can always base it off of that, right?
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