I haven't been blogging much. Haven't been doing anything much.
That's not true.
I've been doing so much that, in the few hours that I actually have at home, I've been ignoring everything except sentient life forms currently physically in my presence. And even then, the cat probably has some legitimate complaints.
I know a few people who are all up in arms about this article in the Huffington Post. I read it. It made me laugh a little. When you’re confronted with that kind of ignorance, often the only practical thing to do is to take whatever amusement you can out of it (that being said, if she had linked out to my blog in that piece of rubbish, I would have been pissed too; I’ve totally got your back, Stephanie) and then let it go.
11:55 p.m.
Wednesday, the Ninth of August, 2011
A lady sits in her kitchen, weaving in the last ends of a sweater, carefully reinforcing seams. The sweater is knit at five stitches to the inch in silk and stainless steel fiber, spun so fine it can’t be called other than thread. The sweater took ten months to knit. The sweater took ten days to seam. The sweater is due in the textile arts building of the exposition hall in twelve hours.
On my iPhone, I'm looking at a map with a dot on a road in a foreign country. The dot says 2480 miles. That's here to there. As crow flies, I imagine.
That's a long way.
I crashed my head down on my desk.
“Having problems with that export code?”
“It’s driving me insane. Is that a problem?”
“Well, don’t work too long on it. Go home. Go to sleep. It will come to you in a dream. You’ll wake up in the middle of the night with the answer.”
“I hate that. I end up dreaming about trying to program the toaster.”
I had my first 2nd Amendment debate with my son recently at the kitchen table. I was eating breakfast. He had finished his cereal and was shooting at invisible robbers with a contraption built of legos.
“You know, kiddo, I don’t think guns belong at the breakfast table.”
“But, Mommy, I’m... I’m... What’s that word that means ‘saving’ but it’s different. Like what Superman does?”
“Defend?”
“Yes! I’m defending. The robbers want your cereal. I’m defending you.”
Great.
I've been caught in the midst of a remodel environment.
Furniture these days, particularly of the office variety, is very modular. If the walls move on you, out pops the allen wrench sampler pack and furniture moves too. It's like being stuck inside a big game of tetris. I can almost hear the music. Its a shame that in real life you never get one of those big magic straight pieces dropping out of the sky that makes half your unwanted crap just poof disappear. 800 points.
“Okay, I have the pieces of eight. If you have the keys to the pirate ship, I think we’re ready to go”
“Don’t forget your sword.”
“Right.”
“Mommy, where’s my pop gun?”
“Daddy has it.”
“Okay, sword? Check. Dagger? Check. Pirate hat? Check. Pistol? Check.
“We’re ready. All aboard.”
“Wait! Wait, hold the boat; I forgot something!”
“What?”
“I need my knitting.”
I haven't done a finished object blog in a long time, but it's not like I'm not knitting. So let's have a parade.
A couple at my office recently produced a set of twins so I made a set of sweaters. Incidentally my task was less time-consuming, less messy, and doesn't keep me up at night.
