Books

I need to finish getting my handouts printed and my workshop samples and materials together for the Winter Retreat in Asheville, so I can get them sent. I haven't even started wrapping presents. Hell, I mostly haven't started *buying* presents yet. I could be doing Christmas baking. I could be working on tonight's supper. The bathroom needs cleaning...

So, what have I been doing instead?

Reading.

 You know how Writing Pundits always say: show, don't tell? There's nothing but telling in this book. The notion intrigued me- Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII working out their differences as they are reincarnated in different lifetimes. Sounds good, right? Wrong. Pages and pages and pages and pages of descriptions of life, with nary a bit of dialog. The descriptions in Threads were at least interesting. But when the author went back in time, with Henry and Anne sometime being lovers, sometimes being mother and son, always soul mates even before that whole Tudor Debacle, I bailed.

 I wasn't tempted to bail on The Warlord of Mars, the third installment in Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter saga, though I did sigh in frustration as time and time again in these books, Burroughs made it clear that John Carter could read minds, and then NEVER EVER HAD HIM DO IT WHEN IT COULD ACTUALLY  HELP HIM! Sorry, I had to get that out of my system. Other than that, this was another satisfying, rip-roaring tale of masculine superiority, derring do, scantily dressed damsels in distress, mighty enemies who sometimes became mighty allies, with interrupted reveals and amazing coincidences up the ying-yang. Burroughs was a visionary, he predicted fax machines, GPS, auto-pilot systems, and Jabba the Hutt.

 I've only just started listening to Thuvia, Maid of Mars, which takes up a year or so after the ending of Warlord. In this book (at least so far), John Carter is a bit player. His son, Carthoris, is the star. Well, I'm thinking that feisty Thuvia, Princess of Ptarth may be the actual star, but we'll see. As with Tarzan and Korak, the only real differences between Burroughs' fathers and sons are the names of their sweethearts.

 I think maybe only Christopher Moore could write a book about a lonely sea monster who causes an entire California coastal town to become horny. Well, maybe he's not the only one who could write it, but surely, he's the only one who could not only make me believe in the monster, but laugh out loud repeatedly throughout. And be sorry when I finished because I wanted to spend more time with the characters.

Luckily for me, I started The Stupidest Angel immediately afterward. Set about five years after the ending of Lust Lizard (I'm way behind on Moore's backlist, and mostly trying to read them in order), and in the same locale. In fact, not only are many of the characters from LL here, but a few from other Moore tales as well (including from Lamb). It's not a full length novel, and I'll be sorry when I'm done with this one too.

Next up? Fool, another one by Moore. I have no idea what it's about. I don't care- I'll happily follow wherever his twisted little mind leads.

Thursday Tab- Roy Rogers and Dale Evans

... or as they were known in an earlier incarnation: Leonard Slye and Frances Octavia Smith.
By any name, this cut set (shared by a friend), is amazing.

The BT'oKT

Well, it's time to dig into the Big Tub 'O Knitted Things, and get them ready for distribution.

I think at least eight pairs of socks will go to new homes, and easily fifteen hats, including these two new ones:

 This hat was knitted from leftover Opal Harry Potter yarn (I think this was the Dumbledore colorway). I had just enough to make a nice, adult-sized hat.

This one is made up of leftover bits and bobs. It's smaller, for a younger person. I like how it came out as well.

I have another hat on the needles now, though it's not going to anyone specific. Yet.

 These hats are going in the mail tomorrow. The white one was a special request, and I still need to crochet a floppy flower for it. That's tonight's goal.

These socks all stay in the general vicinity, but they need wrapping. The fun part is choosing who gets which pair (though a few are size-specific and were knitted with certain persons in mind). The fact that nearly all of these socks and hats were made from leftover yarns tells you #1 that my stash was/is obscene, and #2 they were all *free* (and yes, I know that my time is worth something, but using up the leftover bits of yarn makes me feel virtuous and thrifty).

On another note altogether- take a peek at the hit counter at the lower right of the main blog page. I am awed and honored that you all put up with my blather, and (evidently) keep coming back for more. Thank you, each and every one!

Sock Songs

I have a dentist appointment this morning, continuing my amazing streak of finding a cavity during each routine checkup... sigh... Since I won't feel very perky when I get back, here's something cool to hold you over, a book of Sock Songs,  poems written for a weekly contest held by The Sun, of New York, to promote patriotic sock knitting for WWI soldiers. The contest was held, and the top three winners were published every week, between May and November 1918. The winners got sock yarn, so they could knit more socks for soldiers. I really wish that wasn't relevant now. Thanks to Tammy Domike for the link.

Wordless, except, you know, for the words

 Before...

 We bought this glass tree topper for our first Christmas together. It was 1971. We were 18. It's been on every tree since. Why didn't we choose a different color? Surely, there were gold tree toppers in 1971. Or Silver. Or White.

 My friend Melanie gave me this Martini Mermaid. She always goes front and center. (Side Note: Hipstamatic takes cool phone pics, no?)

Done.

 From my Folk Art Carving stage.

 .

New Toy

Yesterday was my knitting group's Christmas Party, which is always fun. And I came home with more than a cool holiday cheese plate and knife- I also picked up this:

I wasn't exactly in the market for another wheel- I love love love my Ashford Joy, and I already have my old Ashford Traddy (which I had shipped over from New Zealand back in the late 70's). But, a couple of months ago, a good friend let me know that another acquaintance had a Babe wheel for sale, at an exceptionally reasonable price (read: one of those deals that you can't pass up). It took us several months to get together since Facebook insisted on stashing her messages to me in a spam folder. But finally, yesterday, we met up, and I brought Babe home.

I gave her a test run last night. I have to say that she's not a wheel that I will spend a lot of time with- she's noisy and there aren't very many fine controls. But, she's a fully functional wheel, light, sturdy, and best of all, pretty much indestructible, which means she's perfect for The Grandgirls (my Joy is adjusted exactly to my liking and I am loathe to let others, even my most darling others, fool with her).

So, when The Girls are ready to move on from their spindles, I'll be ready!

Thursday Tab- Modelos Recortables Part 2

Here's the rest of this lovely set. Part 1 was uploaded last week.

I'm very afraid that the above skirt is really a pair of Extreme Hammer Pants...