tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70271041370078033712024-03-13T14:45:35.235-07:00My Love As DeepShannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.comBlogger184125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-88514244670573817452009-08-01T14:48:00.001-07:002009-08-01T14:53:04.337-07:00My new tattoo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SnS5N5_6eoI/AAAAAAAAALc/hP_T-udje6k/s1600-h/tattoo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SnS5N5_6eoI/AAAAAAAAALc/hP_T-udje6k/s320/tattoo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365116704663435906" border="0" /></a><br />Based on an Alphonse Mucha painting called "Winter", drawn by my father-in-law and done by Indelible Ink. Soooooo in love with this.Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-25599615937876110362009-03-28T06:52:00.000-07:002009-03-28T07:10:47.174-07:00Swapping BlorpI signed up for the Crafty Detective swap on Craftster..this entails filling out a detailed questionnaire and having your partner "stalk" you to make you the perfect gift. I filled mine out, but later realized I left a lot of things out...so here's a few more for my partner's stalking pleasure!<br /><br /><ul><li>My dog, Annie. We call her Annie Dog, so any items with that on them would be great! She is a rescued Basset, and she weighs about 36 pounds. The length from her neck to base of tail is 17", and her width for sweater purposes is 12". Her neck is 17". She likes chewy treats only..she ignores crunchy ones because she had some teeth trouble when we got her and still thinks she can't eat hard things. I love pink and brown things for her, but a superhero-type jacket would rock! She's not big on toys either, unfortunately...but we do have to bathe her a lot, so if you know how to make doggie shampoo we would sure use it! Oooh, or a special towel just for her!</li></ul><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/Sc4tk7tpWQI/AAAAAAAAALE/PkOe9uDc6OM/s1600-h/annie3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/Sc4tk7tpWQI/AAAAAAAAALE/PkOe9uDc6OM/s320/annie3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318238322498820354" border="0" /></a><br /><ul><li>My three cats. They love catnip mice, especially furry ones. I crave a spiked collar for Violet. She is just your average smallish cat size. I would LOVE this silhouette of Bowie cleaned up and framed! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/Sc4u11zmtzI/AAAAAAAAALM/NymmeighD18/s1600-h/bowiesilhouette.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/Sc4u11zmtzI/AAAAAAAAALM/NymmeighD18/s320/bowiesilhouette.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318239712482604850" border="0" /></a></li></ul><br /><ul><li>My husband and I are both very into cryptozoology and dinosaurs. He wears a size XXL t-shirt and prefers black, I wear a size M and prefer black and pink. T-shirts that say "RAWR means I Love You in Dinosaur"; "Cracka Please" (with a parrot) would be most appreciated.<br /></li><li><br /></li></ul>Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-48988145535742942282009-01-05T20:32:00.000-08:002009-01-05T20:36:18.497-08:00The classiest thing I've seen all day.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SWLfUhb0YEI/AAAAAAAAAKo/qVIK6_BEcrc/s1600-h/adrienne-landau-fox-stole-741401.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SWLfUhb0YEI/AAAAAAAAAKo/qVIK6_BEcrc/s320/adrienne-landau-fox-stole-741401.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288034456151810114" border="0" /></a><br />Of course, most of my day was spent attempting not to think about the small runny noses I was wiping, so it wasn't much of a contest.<br /><br /><a href="http://wkdesigner.wordpress.com/2009/01/03/fox-neck-boa/#comment-478">Free tutorial</a> via <a href="http://blog.craftzine.com/">Craft</a>Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-1561754714465513222009-01-04T09:37:00.000-08:002009-01-04T10:04:21.425-08:00Making SpaceMy craft room before New Year's Day:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SWD0S3NibKI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/lhKwaboZ1ZU/s1600-h/roombefore.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SWD0S3NibKI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/lhKwaboZ1ZU/s320/roombefore.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287494567428517026" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SWD0m7GGDhI/AAAAAAAAAKA/R-GGysOSMQg/s1600-h/roombefore2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SWD0m7GGDhI/AAAAAAAAAKA/R-GGysOSMQg/s320/roombefore2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287494912068423186" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SWD0wAhq8oI/AAAAAAAAAKI/Z7jaYjkEzMk/s1600-h/roombefore1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SWD0wAhq8oI/AAAAAAAAAKI/Z7jaYjkEzMk/s320/roombefore1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287495068145087106" border="0" /></a>My parents will recognize this as the natural state of every room I have ever occupied since birth.<br /><br />"After" pictures to come when I have finished compulsively labeling everything in the hopes that this will help. I am optimistic! Yes!<br /><br />I spent the morning alone with the snow falling outside, knitting myself something:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SWD1jneCzDI/AAAAAAAAAKY/SOfRsSQPtog/s1600-h/cowl.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SWD1jneCzDI/AAAAAAAAAKY/SOfRsSQPtog/s320/cowl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287495954772184114" border="0" /></a><br /><ul><li>Stockinette tube to be used as cowl. Yarn: Mystery ball of something pretty from the thrift store. From the very lovely and unexpected color changes, I suspect it of being something expensive. It is almost definitely wool, and very soft wool too. I'm using big old size 15 needles and it is just mesmerizing. I love it. </li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SWD5Yd8iu5I/AAAAAAAAAKg/EbBUg1bkIBU/s1600-h/pig.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SWD5Yd8iu5I/AAAAAAAAAKg/EbBUg1bkIBU/s320/pig.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287500161283701650" border="0" /></a><br />This pig is something I made this week. I wanted to write up a pattern for my old <a href="http://www.craftster.org/forum/index.php?topic=19985.0">Aerial Pig</a> crochet pattern (I just now realized I still haven't replaced those pictures from the <a href="http://myloveasdeep.blogspot.com/search?q=pig">Slimy eBay Incident</a>; better get on that) for knitters. I have the notes and everything written down for the pattern....but then I did a few searches, just on a whim, and guess what? I'm not the first the think of it. There are already some lovely, and very similar, patterns for small knitted pigs out there to be had on Ravelry and Knitting Pattern Central. Some are free and some are not.<br /><br />This spearheads a dilemma I ponder often. The crafting world has absolutely exploded while I was out of the loop. It has grown from a small, badly photographed and rabidly enthusiastic community to a mangrove swamp of gorgeous designs, books, and talented, dedicated people. This is AWESOME.<br /><br />It does, however, lead to a lot of overlap and it's part of the reason I hesitated to get back in. What do I have to offer anymore? If there are already many similar designs, is it a waste of cyberspace to offer up my own, even when mine was created in complete ignorance of the already existing one? This is really a moot point when it comes to selling, and it is definitely worth the time to research what's out there already before putting work into an idea you have for a product. That's happened to me several times already; someone else came up with it first! For free things, though, I'm not sure. I think it's worth it. Maybe mine is just exactly what someone was looking for, someone who's not quite willing to fudge things yet and would like some really specific instructions. I don't mind putting some time in for that person. After all, others did it for me.Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-19114166825855928732009-01-04T07:05:00.000-08:002009-01-04T07:09:04.612-08:00Business TimeJust a janitor note to say I've packed up and moved the old blog over here now, so all the old posts are in the archives and can be reached by the sidebar. I'm also in the process of moving all my free patterns to Ravelry, although if anyone has a better suggestion for how those should be hosted I'd love to hear it. Geocities won't be cutting it for me anymore. Geocities! Land of my first teenage webpage! My, my.<br />I'd prefer something for pattern hosting that a. has no bandwidth issues and b. doesn't require membership to view.<br /><br />Should I just put them into blog posts here? Eh? Opinions?Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-21764473404379736142009-01-02T17:16:00.000-08:002009-01-02T17:19:26.211-08:00Vinni PuhThere is probably nothing more adorable on earth than this Russian ripoff Winnie-the-Pooh video. At least for today.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EuBzKV6XgvA&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EuBzKV6XgvA&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-91285909566646816622009-01-01T07:17:00.000-08:002009-01-01T08:01:35.197-08:00The Kim Hat<div style="text-align: center;">To celebrate the new year, the husband unit and I went up to Denver to our friend's brand spanky new loft apartment. It is super-swanky, all original 1940's pipes and molding and ceilings that go up for miles. It almost made me want to be a city girl, but I'm pretty sure the honking light rail at 3 am gets old fast.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />So obviously this was a New Year's Eve Party, so naturally I spent it with my face in yarn. I believe there were salsa dancing lessons happening at one point, and I know there was Rock Band because I helped carry the drums, Xbox and other accoutrements up the parking garage stairs, which underlines the point somewhat.<br /><br />But I worked on and finished a hat just minutes before midnight, because I promised this hat to my friend Kim at the Guy Fawkes Day party on the 5th of November, and it's been sitting neglected since then. Now it is on her head, and I have pictures, and a free pattern for you all!<br /><br />There is a reason these pictures are all sepia'd up. They are unquestionably party pictures: you may rest assured there is somebody holding champagne, strawberry margaritas, and/or something my husband calls a "beer-garita" and I call "incredibly ill-advised" cropped out of every one of these. And party pictures always come out sickeningly dark or overexposed, which bugs me more than it used to.<br /><br />Pictures now. This one here is of the one I made for myself first. I used Brown Sheep Bulky and Size 13 straights.<br /><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVzguaaXx6I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/f6oWSoAOrPw/s1600-h/kimhat4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVzguaaXx6I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/f6oWSoAOrPw/s320/kimhat4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286347150594656162" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVzhO0CFLlI/AAAAAAAAAJY/BLh7OIcAiTk/s1600-h/kimhat5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 305px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVzhO0CFLlI/AAAAAAAAAJY/BLh7OIcAiTk/s320/kimhat5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286347707227909714" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVzhcxVBagI/AAAAAAAAAJg/3ZVDJ5-mvfg/s1600-h/kimhat3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVzhcxVBagI/AAAAAAAAAJg/3ZVDJ5-mvfg/s320/kimhat3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286347947020216834" border="0" /></a>There you can see the color, which is one of my favorites and whose name I cannot recall. Grass Green, possibly.<br /><br />Now here is Kim's version: She likes her hats slouchy and more loosely knit than I do, so I used double-stranded Red Heart Worsted in Tan and size 17 straights.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVzh68GjE3I/AAAAAAAAAJo/7KmY7au6Gis/s1600-h/kimhat1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVzh68GjE3I/AAAAAAAAAJo/7KmY7au6Gis/s320/kimhat1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286348465308373874" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVziDpD6XlI/AAAAAAAAAJw/S4SwGCb30CQ/s1600-h/kimhat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVziDpD6XlI/AAAAAAAAAJw/S4SwGCb30CQ/s320/kimhat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286348614815866450" border="0" /></a><br />I love making things for these people. Their appreciation knows no bounds and I am always a little overwhelmed by it.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: courier new;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The Kim Hat</span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: courier new;">Materials:<br /></span></span></span><ul style="font-weight: normal;"><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: courier new;">I use straight needles, but you could do this in the round with a nice 16" circular and some double points in the same size, which should complement a bulky yarn. I recommend anything in the 13-17 US size range.<br /></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: courier new;">Bulky yarn or double-stranded worsted.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: courier new;">Yarn needle or crochet hook for seaming</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: courier new;">pompom maker or your fingers for the making of pompom if desired.<br /></span></span></li></ul><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family: courier new;">How To Make It:</span><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;">1.Figure out your gauge. Most heads are 21" around, and it's important with berets to have a good tight band fit so they don't fall off. I figured on a 20" band for Kim's hat, and my gauge with the double-stranded worsted and the 17 needles was 2 st/inch, so I cast on 40 stitches.<br />2. Knit in 1x1 rib (k1, p1) for about 5 rows or however long you like your hatbands to be.<br />3. (right side) Increase row: Increase every other stitch using your preferred method. I did this row: *K1, Kf&b* to end, turn.<br />4. Purl.<br />5. Knit.<br />5. Now, for me that would be slouchy enough, but Kim likes hers really poofy so I used my little ridge row I stuck in there to do another increase. You're going to knit a row here even though you're on a purl row. This creates the ridge on the other side. I did this as an increase: *K2, kf&b* to end, turn. If you don't want yours any more slouchy, just knit this row.<br />6. Knit.<br />7. Purl.<br />Continue in this manner, knitting a purl row every three rows for that little ridge, until your total knitted length measures 6 or 7 inches.<br />8. Start decreasing.I fudge this big time. Starting on the right side, *k3, k2tog*, then a purl row, then a row of *k2, k2tog*, then a purl row,then a row of *k2tog*, then a purl row.<br /><br />9. Break your yarn with a looooong tail and thread that through a yarn needle. Use your yarn needle to gather up all the stitches you have left on your needle and pull them into a tight ring. Tie off and sew up your seam. Add pompom. You are done, and odds are it took you less than three hours. Hooray!<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span><br /></span></div>Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-70538985241060913052008-12-31T12:50:00.000-08:002009-01-04T07:04:16.066-08:00I'm Moving<div style="text-align: center;">to a new blog for a new start on crafting! Come have some tea and cupcakes with me at<br /></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" ><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://myloveasdeep.blogspot.com"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >my love as deep</span></a><br /><br /><br />Thanks for being here for the journey and I hope you'll join me for the new adventure; my free patterns will be joining us later, but will hold down the fort here for the time being.<br /></div>Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-38908000296039729312008-12-31T11:15:00.000-08:002009-01-01T08:41:50.288-08:00A Brand New Beginning, Smelling of MintWelcome to my new blog! If you've followed me here from <a href="http://catwings.blogspot.com/">Lucky Wings</a>, welcome and I'm glad you're here! If you're new, you can still get my free patterns at <a href="http://catwings.blogspot.com/">Lucky Wings</a> until I get them all moved over.<br /><br />Well, kids, it's been awhile. As I look back on this past year off from crafting, it is laid out like black ink on white canvas how the choices I made decided the course of my life...and yet, I didn't think those choices through particularly hard. I think a good list is in order to clarify.<br /><br />Top Choices of 2008 and Their Results<br /><br /><ul><li>I stopped blogging. Reason: I got engaged and had someone to talk to who appreciates and admires my work, filling that attention hole I have in my chest. Result: Nobody checks the old blog anymore. It is on life support. Thus, my fresh start here.<br /></li><li>I stopped designing almost completely. Reason: I was BUSY planning a wedding (OMG the wedding, here are some pictures for you, and I would like to point out that my AMAZING mom and aunt made my dress by hand. Themselves. From a pattern. ) and that sort of took up all my time. Then I started teaching kindergarten. I know, right? Just what you do with a degree in English Education 7-12 and a longstanding feud with little kids. It has actually worked out really well, because through making all my classroom materials I've been inspired in ways I never would have been otherwise, and developed an appreciation for children's books.I guess that's the result for that one. Also I am married.</li></ul><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvId2qdZJI/AAAAAAAAAHU/eIE5BpsMsLk/s1600-h/finalc%26s4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvId2qdZJI/AAAAAAAAAHU/eIE5BpsMsLk/s320/finalc%26s4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286039002864772242" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvHdMDLAsI/AAAAAAAAAHM/sGmHWgyh7o0/s1600-h/c%26s6final.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvHdMDLAsI/AAAAAAAAAHM/sGmHWgyh7o0/s320/c%26s6final.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286037891914072770" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvJj65wFaI/AAAAAAAAAHk/9CUkXdgPNGQ/s1600-h/finalcongoline2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvJj65wFaI/AAAAAAAAAHk/9CUkXdgPNGQ/s320/finalcongoline2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286040206593496482" border="0" /></a><br /><ul><li>I let my Etsy shop sit empty and stopped posting on Craftster. I fell out of the loop completely. Result: Every time I went to those sites, I felt guilty and strange watching the parade of craftiness move on and evolve without me. Then I wondered why I felt that way. Not too long ago I read an interview with Yokoo, who makes super-huge scarves that are like crack they are so awesome. Here is what punched me in the chest and made me GET IT.<br /></li></ul><div style="text-align: center;">"Artists are jealous enthusiasts. We are privately vain depressants. If we see something admirable, we feel rather overwhelmed to take some sort of action against it. Be it productive or barren."-<a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5219973">Yokoo</a><br /><br />Ohhhhhhhh....<br /><div style="text-align: left;">Result: It's okay for me to feel mad that I didn't make the choice to keep crafting through my life changes. My frustration means that I am an artist, and watching other people fulfill their potential makes me want to take action. So what's stopping me now?<br /><br /><ul><li>Primarily, House. Like the show. And how I watched all the seasons. Oh, how I love House. But it ate up all my after work time and by the time Amber kicked the bucket I was so stunted creatively that I felt even worse. And then I read a list by blogger Anna Borstad (I don't know if you guys use StumbleUpon; it's how I found her blog, and while I'm happy about that, if you can't handle another thing in your life that eats time for breakfast, don't do it). Here is number 5:<br /></li></ul></div></div>"5. I have prioritized creativity in my life, and made time and space to honouring that pursuit, and I feel richer and clearer for it"-<a href="http://freeplaycraft.wordpress.com/">Anna Borstad</a><br /><br />Result: I wanna do that. So I did. I asked for a sewing machine for Christmas, got one, battled that damn bobbin until I finally won, and started filling the Etsy again. Not with things I think will sell, but things I want to make, based on sketches I've done and daydreams I've had. I'm not underpricing and I'm going to advertise. I am making time every day to work on my designs and I am taking my time and working carefully.<br /><br /><br />Wanna see some pictures? I am so freaking proud of this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvPWoAkLRI/AAAAAAAAAHs/F3bJC2UmyxM/s1600-h/100_0635.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvPWoAkLRI/AAAAAAAAAHs/F3bJC2UmyxM/s320/100_0635.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286046575253269778" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvPpPF7j7I/AAAAAAAAAH0/LbIy_I2barg/s1600-h/100_0633.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvPpPF7j7I/AAAAAAAAAH0/LbIy_I2barg/s320/100_0633.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286046894982401970" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvP-0cBEZI/AAAAAAAAAH8/CTJHrNsX03A/s1600-h/100_0644.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvP-0cBEZI/AAAAAAAAAH8/CTJHrNsX03A/s320/100_0644.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286047265784402322" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvQZDuZ7NI/AAAAAAAAAIE/fi8sv0PxIkQ/s1600-h/100_0637.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvQZDuZ7NI/AAAAAAAAAIE/fi8sv0PxIkQ/s320/100_0637.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286047716564659410" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvQpHRq39I/AAAAAAAAAIM/Wb7fxoKMXuY/s1600-h/100_0642.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/SVvQpHRq39I/AAAAAAAAAIM/Wb7fxoKMXuY/s320/100_0642.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286047992395784146" border="0" /></a>Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-47573767848156019272008-01-10T13:00:00.000-08:002009-01-04T07:04:16.086-08:00For all the time I've stored upHere it is.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/R4aIUm82fqI/AAAAAAAAAEo/UitoGMuZPos/s1600-h/Engagement+pictures+002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/R4aIUm82fqI/AAAAAAAAAEo/UitoGMuZPos/s320/Engagement+pictures+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153956711206649506" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />See this? This is me, and my Cuyler, and the scarf I made him...and a very sparkly ring on my left hand.<br /><br />I'M FREAKING GETTING MARRIED, KIDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />P.S. The cable on the scarf is from <a href="http://girlfromauntie.com/patterns/simple-celtic-cable">here.</a><br /><br />I felt like that was all I wanted to say, it being the big event, the disco ball of life at the moment, so to speak.<br /><br />But there's more, right? Never mind not blogging all this time, I haven't even journaled. It's been a really, really busy time...Mostly because I now work 40 hours a week and there's no such thing as Christmas break anymore.<br /><br />But also I haven't felt it. I know there's a lot going on in my subconscious, but for some reason I don't feel inspired to lay it out in neat little rows. I'm sure it's coming..<br /><br />Getting married means...wow. It means the rest of my life goes this way, and I have to get my shit together and quit wasting money, quit putting off the paperwork for certification, get some interviews and make my life really start. Maybe that's why 'm not thinking about it. I've always looked forward to the future after college, always knew it would be painful and hard but worth it.<br />Now that it's here I'm scared. So I'm plugging through it, even though this 22-page teaching application gives me an automatic stress headache just to think about. Not that it's that tricky. It just seems so intimidating. Why? I think it's my fear of failure, that I won't measure up. I won't get a job, I won't be able to teach effectively. I know the fear is separate from me, and I won't let it keep me from trying. I was really enjoying not thinking about it, though.<br /><br />I went home to New York and visited my family a week ago. I saw my dearest Heather a few times and on the way home, I cried. It really struck home that I chose to move so many thosands of miles away..for good. Or at least for the future I can see from here. Instead of seeing her whenever I like, it will be twice a year if I'm lucky, and she is such a huge part of my soul.<br />I found my husband (it makes me shake inside just to say that) and he will be my best friend. He is like steel, like a rock, like everything safe and right for me. He loves me absolutely unconditionally and calls me on my shit unmercifully, which is exactly what I always wanted.<br /><br />I will still miss my Heather. I hope life gives me a few new twists so that it doesn't turn out to be as hard as it feels right now.<br /><br />It generally seems to turn out right. I don't underestimate how lucky I am.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/R4aTQG82frI/AAAAAAAAAEw/YxoYs4dDE2Q/s1600-h/Engagement+pictures+005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/R4aTQG82frI/AAAAAAAAAEw/YxoYs4dDE2Q/s320/Engagement+pictures+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153968728525143730" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/R4aTkG82fsI/AAAAAAAAAE4/oEtcB2_Io4o/s1600-h/Engagement+pictures+046.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/R4aTkG82fsI/AAAAAAAAAE4/oEtcB2_Io4o/s320/Engagement+pictures+046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153969072122527426" border="0" /></a>Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-71152900576228115072007-09-28T11:42:00.000-07:002009-01-04T07:04:16.097-08:00And Carl says I'm introverted.<a href="http://myloveasdeep.mypersonality.info" target="_top"><img src="http://badges.mypersonality.info/badge/0/2/22156.png" alt="Click to view my Personality Profile page" border="0" /></a><br /><img width=0 height=0 style="visibility:hidden;" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/counters/dBFII5RbVxUc8nBdc3bMDTvNxh8YPCZT0EgEosybDqrLskA4EC3ALCbmnANDadljiVoGXNX91mCBp7D2a_oiyx6J75mTRpAywQo79JDb8dUAMz8qwx95uWVvhb7fQC_TjOPDRT2Gwv3dlxBop-IFJw==.tif" >Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-29148152495503597522007-09-28T09:14:00.000-07:002009-01-04T07:04:16.109-08:00Check that off the list.Well, last night I met my number-one hero. Terry Pratchett, author of the Discworld series and the world's greatest comic genius, and a damn fine human being. Of course, I was only able to get pictures on my camera phone, so until I figure out how the heck to upload those, you'll have to check him out at terrypratchettbooks.com. I was able to get my advance reader's copy signed, thus ensuring my retirement fund. Working at a bookstore is sweet.<br /><br />Best quote of the night: "I read books that support my pre-existing view that the world is a very interesting place."<br /><br />Also.."No-one seems to have caught on yet that in Wee Free Men, there is a toad. The toad is yellow. He says he is yellow because he has been ill, and for a lot of the time, the toad is leading Tiffany....and yet no one seems to bring up the phrase, "Follow the yellow sick toad"."<br /><br />To my shame, I'd never caught that either.<br /><br />Oh, what all is happening...all sorts of stuff. I guess in knitting news, I made my very first boyfriend scarf that was actually appreciated...and when I say appreciated, I mean I am blown away by this man's level of commitment to keeping the scarf within two feet of his body at all times, and it hasn't even snowed yet. I think I hit the jackpot, ladies and gentlemen. I will get pictures as soon as possible.<br /><br />It provides such a contrast to every other knitting I've ever offered to an object of my affection. In fact, want to hear a story that will make blood come out your ears? I know you do. It's sort of funny in retrospect, it being such a fantastically yarn-based tale of betrayal.<br /><br />I made a scarf, oh, two years ago for the fellow I'd been with for two years. It wasn't much, a simple 1x1 rib, but I picked those colors carefully and knitted it carefully out of beautiful brown Lamb's Pride and presented it with love, as we all do with our knitting. He liked it okay but my knitting was always sort of an object of resentment for him. I think it had something to do with his mother, or some such foolery. Anyway he wore it for awhile, and then he stopped, and then as we continued to fall apart it lay in the backseat of his car covered by Wendy's bags. I had a health scare one day and showed up on his doorstep for help because at the time he was the only one I could go to. He opened the door and THE BASTARD WAS WEARING A SCARF. Not MY scarf, no, but a badly-crocheted hunk of PURPLE ACRYLIC Lion Brand Homespun. I eyed that for a minute. Who made that for you? Carolyn! Oh, of course it was Carolyn! Naturally! How silly of me! I guess that settles the question of our future!<br /><br />Now, in non-knitting circles this might seem sort of, well, not as bad as it could have been, but you all understand, I am sure, that to wear another girl's knitting (or crochet--even worse) is a slap in the face to everything you are, and rather worse than actually discovering him doing the dirty with the tramp in the living room. The fact that I did not come in the night and slash his tires was owed solely to the fact that it might jeopardize my student teaching.<br /><br />The point of this story is that the fact that I have found a man who thinks my knitting is "bitchin' righteous" (direct quote) is enough to make me want to tie him to the couch to prevent him escaping. Did I say that? Woops! I mean...I feel lucky. Really lucky. I am.Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-10649824061553344402007-09-15T18:09:00.000-07:002009-01-04T07:04:16.120-08:00NDK 2007<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyC0S_SvjI/AAAAAAAAAEg/QLDhFI3_7O4/s1600-h/shanandAl.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyC0S_SvjI/AAAAAAAAAEg/QLDhFI3_7O4/s320/shanandAl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110603512120786482" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCwy_SviI/AAAAAAAAAEY/CUVBT9aDRT0/s1600-h/san3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCwy_SviI/AAAAAAAAAEY/CUVBT9aDRT0/s320/san3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110603451991244322" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCti_SvhI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/jNvoXNs7_eU/s1600-h/san2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCti_SvhI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/jNvoXNs7_eU/s320/san2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110603396156669458" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCqC_SvgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/WYIKQ77vjmQ/s1600-h/san1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCqC_SvgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/WYIKQ77vjmQ/s320/san1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110603336027127298" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCnC_SvfI/AAAAAAAAAEA/WQ1LvOz71rA/s1600-h/alan6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCnC_SvfI/AAAAAAAAAEA/WQ1LvOz71rA/s320/alan6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110603284487519730" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCjS_SveI/AAAAAAAAAD4/ypbpA10Yc0g/s1600-h/alan4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCjS_SveI/AAAAAAAAAD4/ypbpA10Yc0g/s320/alan4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110603220063010274" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCfy_SvdI/AAAAAAAAADw/yu_O1ENj5Q4/s1600-h/alan3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCfy_SvdI/AAAAAAAAADw/yu_O1ENj5Q4/s320/alan3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110603159933468114" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCZi_SvcI/AAAAAAAAADo/edHji1_nCpY/s1600-h/alan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RuyCZi_SvcI/AAAAAAAAADo/edHji1_nCpY/s320/alan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110603052559285698" border="0" /></a><br />I made my Mononoke Hime costume totally all by myself, and I was not detected by anyone at the convention as the anime enthusiast poser that I am. My cousin decreed me a perfectly acceptable San. It was fantastic. And we are totally hot.Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-11545760281121694762007-08-31T12:01:00.000-07:002009-01-04T07:04:16.138-08:00Juxtaposition<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RtiDjFiLEwI/AAAAAAAAADI/W6xUWr2Bxdk/s1600-h/IMG_2026.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RtiDjFiLEwI/AAAAAAAAADI/W6xUWr2Bxdk/s320/IMG_2026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104974816428626690" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RtiCz1iLEvI/AAAAAAAAADA/A6-ZfRNHL8g/s1600-h/IMG_2014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RtiCz1iLEvI/AAAAAAAAADA/A6-ZfRNHL8g/s320/IMG_2014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104974004679807730" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RtiCIViLEuI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jUMh5KSe8h4/s1600-h/IMG_2018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RtiCIViLEuI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jUMh5KSe8h4/s320/IMG_2018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104973257355498210" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RtiEZ1iLExI/AAAAAAAAADQ/ETIlph1-6h0/s1600-h/IMG_2025.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RtiEZ1iLExI/AAAAAAAAADQ/ETIlph1-6h0/s320/IMG_2025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104975757026464530" border="0" /></a><br /><ul><li>Sweetheart Sweater</li><li>Based on Stephanie Japel's top-down raglan recipe</li><li>Circular size 7</li><li>Caron Simply Soft, Wool-Ease and wool scraps</li><li>Buttons from local yarn shop</li><li>Heart chart: http://www.soxie.com/valentine.html<br /></li></ul><br />I think this is the best fit I've ever had in a sweater, and it's definitely going to get more wear than any sweater I've knit before. I did a bunch of increases for the bust, and in retrospect I clearly have no idea what size I am. I need to learn to make darts.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />So in local news, I'm in Colorado and feeling at home, for the first time in my life. I'm working in a bookstore and Terry Pratchett is coming to Boulder next month. Life is very, very good.Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-77424074661333860922007-06-13T11:02:00.000-07:002009-01-04T07:04:16.152-08:00A rant.<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RnA1wYW3-sI/AAAAAAAAACw/KRYA_VZlWZU/s1600-h/chivalry.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RnA1wYW3-sI/AAAAAAAAACw/KRYA_VZlWZU/s320/chivalry.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075615885334936258" /></a><br /><br /><br />I've been browsing an online dating website lately. It's great entertainment. Only one out of every 30 guys seems to have any ability to use words. There are a few stock phrases that you see over and over...I really think they just copy and paste each other's profiles."Chivalry is not dead"; "Do nice guys finish last?" "Part teddy bear"...Good god. One of the phrases you see in almost every single one is, "I know how to treat a woman." <br /><br />This fascinates me. How, in fact, is a woman supposed to be treated? I have two theories as to why they are saying this.<br /><br />1. They think that "being treated like a woman" means flowers, candy, door-holding, being given presents and inane flattery. They also think that women like this. So if they say they know how to do that, women will like them.<br /><br />2. It's some sort of ############ innuendo.<br /><br />Regardless, I just can't imagine saying anything like, "I know how to treat a man." What, bring him his beer while he watches the game and swan around the house in a negligee? I know how to treat my man! Could anything sound more archaic?<br /><br />How is it possible to be a human being living in the world today and not realize that the "way to treat a woman" is to treat her as a friend? With respect and kindess? Treat her as a unique human being who is not to be put on a pedestal nor put down for your amusement. I would treat any man the same way. <br /><br />How is this not obvious?Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-75163812399347187672007-06-09T17:04:00.000-07:002009-01-04T07:04:16.164-08:00where troubles melt like lemon drops<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RmtAVoW3-nI/AAAAAAAAACI/1Um-rOFuM0k/s1600-h/dresscrop.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RmtAVoW3-nI/AAAAAAAAACI/1Um-rOFuM0k/s320/dresscrop.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074220145517787762" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RmtA1IW3-oI/AAAAAAAAACQ/yB_kxgyGw5A/s1600-h/bo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RmtA1IW3-oI/AAAAAAAAACQ/yB_kxgyGw5A/s320/bo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074220686683667074" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RmtBQYW3-pI/AAAAAAAAACY/hw4TTABfUPE/s1600-h/bo2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RmtBQYW3-pI/AAAAAAAAACY/hw4TTABfUPE/s320/bo2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074221154835102354" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RmtB14W3-qI/AAAAAAAAACg/uaBkr8ysgoY/s1600-h/sun.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RmtB14W3-qI/AAAAAAAAACg/uaBkr8ysgoY/s320/sun.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074221799080196770" /></a><br /><br />Dress: Vintage with the original tags, $2 at the Salvation Army. Cat: Fat and fluffy and entertaining, $30 at the local shelter. <br /><br />I just read an amazing book which I'm prepared to bet you haven't read. The librarian tells me that I was the first one to check it out since it was purchased..six years ago. Did you know that a man named W.C. Minor, a primary contributor to the first edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, did it all from inside Broadmoor Insane Asylum, where he lived as an inmate? Because of schizophrenia manifesting as extreme paranoia....and guilt...not to be a spoiler, but the man felt that perhaps God would forgive him for certain spicy thoughts if he..well. Too bad that eighty is a bit old to start a new career as a castrato singer. A thrilling read! *bright smile*<br /><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RmwZ3IW3-rI/AAAAAAAAACo/YpA2yRA9gX8/s1600-h/madman.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RmwZ3IW3-rI/AAAAAAAAACo/YpA2yRA9gX8/s320/madman.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074459315066632882" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Professor-Madman-Insanity-English-Dictionary/dp/0060839783/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/104-9701455-1562326?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1181489663&sr=8-1">The Professor and the Madman: A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary</a>Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-52908879741576215142007-06-07T12:55:00.000-07:002009-01-04T07:04:16.185-08:00Hey Ma, I gradyeated!<a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/Rmhjh4W3-mI/AAAAAAAAACA/_U57kqeA3UQ/s1600-h/gradl.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/Rmhjh4W3-mI/AAAAAAAAACA/_U57kqeA3UQ/s320/gradl.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073414413948025442" /></a><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RmhjTIW3-lI/AAAAAAAAAB4/mlvp1qQtjek/s1600-h/momgrad.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RmhjTIW3-lI/AAAAAAAAAB4/mlvp1qQtjek/s320/momgrad.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073414160544954962" /></a><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/Rmhi_IW3-kI/AAAAAAAAABw/yYdv_TE_DR8/s1600-h/dadgrad.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/Rmhi_IW3-kI/AAAAAAAAABw/yYdv_TE_DR8/s320/dadgrad.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073413816947571266" /></a>Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-56700292046318193872007-05-30T20:55:00.000-07:002009-01-04T07:04:16.205-08:00I just watched The Squid and the Whale. It was so real and hit so hard. The characters were so true..and the issues so powerful. Your parents and their love, sex, what potential these things have to be land mines..they are like the giant forces, the squid and the whale, battling it out. They are so huge and dark and powerful that just witnessing the fight can make you do things you can give no reason for at all. What makes us lash out and why in the way we do? I read The Stranger by Camus the other day, and it was clear to me there was something I was missing..and this is it, or part of it. In the face of death, sex, and love, people do destructive things that make no logical sense. Why? Why? Because nothing we do matters in the face of death, or because the breakdown of love is overpowering, or because sex is too frightening a concept, outside of love, to handle? And if love dies, then where does that leave us?Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-44353691944075212642007-05-22T09:11:00.000-07:002009-01-04T07:04:16.222-08:00Rocky mountain highI passed student teaching! There's a whole passel of thought and growing and pain and stories in that which I am not yet ready to discuss. I'm moving to Colorado in 11 weeks! They use sheep to mow the grass by highways in Colorado. This was at least 50% of my decision-making process. <br /><br />Knitting!<br /><br />I finished this in four days during my vacation to Colorado. It's a modified Forecast by Stephanie Japel, free pattern on her website and Knitty. I used size 10.5 needles and good old dishcloth cotton. I didn't actually follow the pattern, I started off with it and then sort of went my own way. It's getting a lot of oohs and aahs! The ribbing hits me above the belly button, so it's a sort of bolero thing. Anyway it's cute and light and it makes me happy! Enjoy!<br /><br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RlMXE6QSQfI/AAAAAAAAABY/fZMUspHf1BU/s1600-h/forecast1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RlMXE6QSQfI/AAAAAAAAABY/fZMUspHf1BU/s320/forecast1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067419378846417394" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RlMXa6QSQgI/AAAAAAAAABg/5_fBL340_JU/s1600-h/forecastfront.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RlMXa6QSQgI/AAAAAAAAABg/5_fBL340_JU/s320/forecastfront.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067419756803539458" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RlMXtKQSQhI/AAAAAAAAABo/UDq_QQKf6-M/s1600-h/forecastback.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RlMXtKQSQhI/AAAAAAAAABo/UDq_QQKf6-M/s320/forecastback.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067420070336152082" /></a>Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-15686451871369242682007-02-11T09:47:00.000-08:002009-01-04T07:04:16.238-08:00A full lifeWell. This will be my first single Valentine's Day in many a year. In theory I'm not upset--I've had more than my fair share of not-alone valentine's Days, and it's time I got to take the other side. <br />Still, I'm not kidding myself. It's going to be tough. Really tough. I expect there will be many a moment when the tears are going to come. But I'm determined not to mope around, or go on a date with someone I'm not in love with and deal with all that pressure. I'm going to enjoy it like I did when I was a kid! I've gone through an awful lot of manifesto days, when I swore to be a stronger person from that moment on. It doesn't work. I've accepted that you can't call love hate and have it really be hate just because you want it to. You can't stop feeling pain because it's inconvenient. The harder you deny your own feelings, the harder you will fall, and you will break bones. I accept that I am healing, that I will feel differently all the time, and that moving on isn't something you can force. A rebound is not the answer. I'm sort of pleased to find that I get no kicks out of using men. That's a lot more mature than I ever thought I was. So there's that at least.<br /> I'm even amazed to find that my teaching is filling up the gaps in my life, and that I even get joy out of it. That I don't feel lost anymore. At least, not most of the time. <br />On the other hand, I'm developing more old-maid habits and preferences by the day. I'm not sure if it's being a professional husher for loud kids, or if it's not having a man to impress. I prefer medicinal herbal scents, pajamas with discreet stripes in sober tones, and the highlight of my average week is Tuesday, because House is on. My heart actually beats faster when I think about it.. my ideal man, apparently, is a crabby Brit. I'm twenty-two and I knit obsessively. I'm an English teacher who enjoys puns a lot more than is actually healthy. I smell of lavender and basil. The other day I even heard myself say, "Have some respect for the Word of God!" And so, my friends, I will die alone. Except for my cats. They will still love me.<br /><br /><br /><br />Here is my game plan for the Day of Doom:<br /><br />1. I will make extra-special personalized heart cookies for my students, cooperating teacher and principal. <br />2. I will buy myself flowers. Probably Gerbera daisies in red, yellow and orange. I really always liked them better than roses.<br />3.I will make funny, irreverent Valentines and mail them to my friends and family back home. When I'm in a relationship I forget to be generous to the people who really love me and are really, truly committed to me. <br />4.I will buy a Veggie Lover pizza from Pizza Hut: I haven't had one in years, a bottle of the cheapest, sweetest red wine available, and watch American Idol with my cat at home. Also some chocolate. I can spoil myself better than anyone else can.<br />5. Next weekend, my dear Heather will come up to visit, we will go see the Vagina Monologues and go out to dinner.Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-14671840994935526052007-01-12T09:58:00.000-08:002009-01-04T07:04:16.255-08:00Beautiful Spy Sweater<a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RafM9nngbRI/AAAAAAAAAAk/6hHz5Oe8RIA/s1600-h/spyhead.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RafM9nngbRI/AAAAAAAAAAk/6hHz5Oe8RIA/s320/spyhead.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019205668706479378" /></a><br /><br /><br />After three months of work on size 7 needles, it's finally here. I shall seduce very important people and obtain very important papers and be generally sneaky, in a sexy sort of way. I shall also wear big sunglasses.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RafN13ngbSI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Z2qialxdN2c/s1600-h/spyfront.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RafN13ngbSI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Z2qialxdN2c/s320/spyfront.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019206635074120994" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Based on <a href="http://zeitgeistyarns.blogspot.com/2006/10/stick-fork-in-her-baby_04.html">the Fern Diamonds Cardigan</a> , but with 6/2 ribbing instead of lace. Yes, it's Red Heart Super Saver. I'm okay with that. Sorry, I was totally unable to get a good picture of the stitch definition..that's black for you, but you've all seen seed stitch before. Here's the best I could do of the front.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RafPXXngbUI/AAAAAAAAABI/pToUvAveVPI/s1600-h/spyseed.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RafPXXngbUI/AAAAAAAAABI/pToUvAveVPI/s320/spyseed.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019208310111366466" /></a><br /><br /><br />And the back:<br /><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RafOQHngbTI/AAAAAAAAAA0/59GaYvaEmZA/s1600-h/spyback.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RafOQHngbTI/AAAAAAAAAA0/59GaYvaEmZA/s320/spyback.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019207086045687090" /></a>Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-32537035809013672122007-01-08T12:38:00.000-08:002009-01-04T07:04:16.274-08:00Survey...YOURSELF - The Survey <br />Eye Color: Green <br />Hair Color: Brown<br />Height: 5'<br /> Right Handed or Left Handed: Right<br /> Your Heritage: Irish <br />The Shoes You Wore Today: High-heeled brown boots<br />Your Weakness: Red wine, and Internet surveys that allow me to answer questions about myself and feel important.<br />Your Fears: Sharks, loneliness and becoming jaded<br />Your Perfect Pizza: Thick, chewy crust ,veggie lover from Pizza Hut<br />Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: Doing a good job student teaching and being a hero.<br />Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger: Ha!<br />Thoughts First Waking Up: Oh good, there's coffee.<br />Your Best Physical Feature: Smile. I think. I have quite nice eyebrows..<br />Your Bedtime: 10<br />Your Most Missed Memory: Playing in the woods as a kid. We made all these paths...<br />Pepsi or Coke: Neither. I dislike all soda.<br />MacDonalds or Burger King: Wendy's, they have spicy chicken.<br />Single or Group Dates: I've been on very few dates. I really don't know. Probably single.<br /> Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: Can't I just have some coffee?<br />Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate, and if it's 80% cacao, so much the better.<br /> Cappuccino or Coffee: Cofffeeeeeeee...<br /> Do you Smoke: No. It is yucky.<br />Do you Swear: My favorite is "Rats bloody rats!"<br />Do you Sing: Well, yes. Everyone sings.<br />Do you Shower Daily: Most of the time. I make no promises when I'm home on vacation and never leave the house.<br />Have you Been in Love: Yes.<br /> Do you want to go to College: All the way through Masters...<br />Do you want to get Married: Very much so.<br /> Do you believe in yourself: You know, I think I do!<br />Do you get Motion Sickness: If I read or knit in the car, I do.<br />Do you think you are Attractive: Yes. Yes, I do.<br />Are you a Health Freak: Mmmmm....not really. Not a freak, per se. I'm not opposed to health.<br />Do you get along with your Parents: About 75% of the time.<br />Do you like Thunderstorms: Yeah! <br />Do you play an Instrument: I can sort of play the guitar a bit. I know four chords!<br /> In the past month have you Drank Alcohol: Yes.I drank a bottle of sangria whilst making spinach stuffed shells on Christmas Eve, and they turned out great. Best shells I ever made. <br />In the past month have you Smoked: No. That is yucky.<br /> In the past month have you been on Drugs: No. Never, ever, ever. I am a total square.<br />In the past month have you gone on a Date: No. I don't know what else to say to that. What an unpleasant question.<br />In the past month have you gone to a Mall: Yes. But I didn't have any fun.<br />In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos: No..it's been at least two months.They were the mint kind.<br />In the past month have you eaten Sushi: No. And I don't see why I should.<br /> In the past month have you been on Stage: No. Not since Heather's play at GCC, I think...<br /> In the past month have you been Dumped: Not quite; it's been a little longer officially, but muuuuuch longer in reality.<br />In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping: No..it's January..I haven't gone skinny dipping since that party at Sally's when I was sixteen.<br />In the past month have you Stolen Anything: No.<br />Ever been Drunk: On occasion. Probably five occasions. I mean Really drunk.<br />Ever been called a Tease: No. I am a hermit and I do not tease.<br />Ever been Beaten up: No!<br /> Ever Shoplifted: Yes.<br />How do you want to Die: Can I pass on the dying? Thanks.<br />What do you want to be when you Grow Up: A shepherd. No, really.<br />What country would you most like to Visit: India.Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-7656803623512535312007-01-08T06:29:00.000-08:002009-01-04T07:04:16.312-08:00People are stinky.First of all, THANK YOU to all of you at Crochetville who alerted me to the person selling my aerial pig pattern on eBay. I wrote to the seller asking them to remove it, and reported it to eBay as well, so we'll see what happens.<br /><br />I didn't envision this happening when I put my patterns up. I certainly wouldn't mind if someone made some pigs and sold them. That's what I meant when I said you could make money from them...but reselling a free pattern without crediting the author? Sliiimmmmmmyyyy. <br /><br />If anyone would like to express their feelings to the seller, the listing is here:<br /><br />http://search.ebay.com/_W0QQsassZdcQ5fphotographyQ5fstudiosShannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-39644263508678189792007-01-04T14:43:00.000-08:002009-01-04T07:04:16.325-08:00Fabulations.<a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RZ2ETuyzXTI/AAAAAAAAAAU/BA1HWWNBK3o/s1600-h/16139white2-med.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016311034474093874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RZ2ETuyzXTI/AAAAAAAAAAU/BA1HWWNBK3o/s320/16139white2-med.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RZ2D3uyzXSI/AAAAAAAAAAM/2i_2IBRXHkY/s1600-h/16139white1-med.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016310553437756706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Cs22XrDTRDA/RZ2D3uyzXSI/AAAAAAAAAAM/2i_2IBRXHkY/s320/16139white1-med.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br><br /><br><br /><br><br /><br />Here's a new hat pattern for ya'll: <br /><br><br /><br /><a href="http://geocities.com/thelibrarian18/classic_tan.html">http://geocities.com/thelibrarian18/classic_tan.html</a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong>The Post Office Hat</strong></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">by Shannon Murphree, 2006</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Please don't use this pattern to compete with my sales on Etsy. Anything else is fair game, 'kay?</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">I saw this gorgeous old lady wearing a hat like this in the post office the other day. I'm pretty sure hers was knitted, although I didn't get a really close look. The distinguishing features are the little tail on top and the glorious puff-stitch.<br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><br />------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><br />I'm also working on some writing about my kidhood...nothing is quite so therapeutic as making fun of yourself on paper. It really makes the drama seem a lot less important...tell me what you think. This is my original material and may not be copied or borrowed from.<br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><strong>Lies</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>By Shannon Murphree</strong></div><strong></strong><div align="left"><br />When I was a kid, I used to be a compulsive liar. Trust me. Ha ha. No, really, I lied about everything, on general principles, although I’m not sure which principles in particular dictated that a lie must be told in every circumstance where the truth would do just as well. Certainly I was punished for lying, when I got caught, but the problem was that most of my fabulation took place outside my parents’ earshot, usually for the benefit of their friends and relatives. Charming, eh? Often, at 2 a.m., when a red-hot humiliating memory plays on the wide screen in my head for the six hundredth and eighty-seventh time, I scream to my parents of ten years ago, “Why didn’t you STOP ME?” But the obvious answer is that I was too damn good. I probably lied my way out of punishment more times than I went to church in my life, and that is no mean feat, really. </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><strong>Lie Number One: The Lie of Ignorance-Defending </strong></div><div align="left"><strong><br /></strong>I read a stunning number of books per day in my childhood, since we didn’t have television because it might corrupt our minds.* The books were primarily to do with animals. I was a big fan of books on pet care, and I educated myself thoroughly on the housing, feeding, varieties and training of every domestic beast from guppies to Guernseys. My repertoire was amazing, although really quite useless, since due to my little brother’s allergy-induced asthma, I did not succeed in twisting my parents’ arms for a cat until I was twelve. I had a tank of fish, which died like flies from, according to my fish book, Ichthyophthirius.**<br /></div><div align="left">The one blank in my encyclopedic knowledge concerned the small, yet vital, area of sex. We did not, and do not to this day, allow such things as reproduction into our home. I may have been protected from knowledge too heavy for my eight-year-old shoulders, but know this: The day I told my Sunday School teacher (who owned a horse farm) that my great-aunt Lenore had a beautiful black stallion named Samantha, who had just given birth to a colt named Daisy, lives on in my memory with all the horror of an illicit glimpse of ###########. </div><div align="left"><br />Sunday School teaching is not a job for the timid, and my teacher had little patience with me anyway, due to my pompous insistence that I knew more than anyone else, including the teacher, on any subject you cared to name, including Bible stories. I got a look of flesh-withering scorn as she informed me that it was impossible for my stallion to have borne a colt, especially a female colt, since these were terms for the male of the Equine species.<br />I was crushed, but physically unable to be gracious about being wrong. With increasing volume, I insisted that Samantha was a stallion, just like Black Beauty, until I was crouched in a corner, tear-stained and snuffly, for the duration of that day’s service. In years to come, I would repeat my performance on such subjects as male calico cats, whether my street tabby was a purebred Abyssinian, and the multiplication table. </div><div align="left"><br />*This is Irony.<br />* *I also kept pet flies in an applesauce jar. </div><div align="left"><br /><strong>Lie Number Two: The Lie of Supernatural Powers </strong></div><strong></strong><div align="left"><br />When I was four I thought I could remember being in the womb. I told my daddy so, and he insisted that I could not possibly remember such a thing and that I was making it up and it was wrong to lie. I was so sure I did remember it that I expanded my story to include conversations heard through my mother’s swollen belly and playing checkers in Heaven with baby Jesus and Grover from Sesame Street, my personal God. My insistence that I was in possession of supernatural powers continued through the years, and ranged from super-speed due to my one-16th Indian heritage, to talking to trees and moving things with my mind. It ended when I was twelve and told some neighbor boys that I was one-half cat and could see in the dark and walk over dry leaves without making a sound. I stuck to my guns on the subject for forty-five minutes, as they staggered around the yard, laughing until snot came out their noses. Finally it was just too embarrassing and I laid my Feline Secret Identity to rest. My cat, Marbles, felt betrayed. She told me so.<br /><br /><strong>Lie Number Three: The Totally Unjustified Lie </strong></div><strong><div align="center"><br /></strong></div>I really can’t explain this one at all. I lied when there was absolutely no need to embroider the truth. My personal favorite of this variety happened when I was eleven.<br />My dad had given me a toy cat for Christmas. She had lovely peach-and-white fur, and was the most beautiful, most magical thing I had ever owned. She was perfect. I took her to a friend’s house to show her off, and my friend’s mother commented on how pretty she was. My mouth opened and I heard myself say, ”Well, my dad got her cheap because she was the last one and she was a mistake because the factory made her wrong because her fur wasn’t supposed to be this color and you see how she’s got this funny eye, so she was made wrong and that’s why she was so cheap.”<br />As my friend’s mother’s expression changed from polite interest to raised-eyebrow puzzlement, I realized that I had no idea why I had just said that, and also that I had a problem. All of my small lies about horse’s gender, stolen cookies, hitting my brother, cheated-on math tests and peeked-at Christmas presents had added up until I was lying for no discernible reason.<br />As I think about it now, there were several types of lies, all very devious in their own special way, but all based on the premise that the world really ought to be better than it was, and anything I said to contribute to that result was vital. My world was so frightening, so confusing, and so often totally wrong that any sort of lie was bound to be better than being held responsible for what was really true. I know now that the truth is the only thing worth being responsible for, the only thing that allows you to take the consequences knowing that you are in control.<br />However, I really can walk through dry leaves without making a single sound.Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7027104137007803371.post-47809171837966231462006-10-18T11:13:00.000-07:002009-01-04T07:04:16.339-08:00A survey.This is from Crazy Aunt Purl, and I haven't done one in a long time. <br /><br />Four jobs I’ve had:<br /><br />* Cashier at a Save-A-Lot grocery store ("We Don't Waste Money on Advertising or Any Sort of Cleaning Supplies, and We're Passing The Savings and ########### on to You!")* Waitress at the Silver Lake Restaurant. <br />* Work-Study at the college library.<br />* Pizza Hut waitress. This is depressing.<br /><br /><br />Four movies I can watch over and over:<br /><br />* All the Muppet movies except for Muppets Take Manhattan. <br />* The Philadelphia Story<br />* All the Harry Potter movies<br />* Toy Story<br /><br />Four places I have lived:<br /><br />* Perry, New York<br />* Warsaw, New York<br />* Batavia, New York<br />* Fredonia, New York<br /><br />Four television shows I love to watch:<br /><br />* House<br />* Blind Date<br />* Family Guy<br />* American Idol<br /><br /><br />Four places I have been on vacation:<br /><br />* Susquehanna, PA<br />* Cape Cod, MA<br />* Someplace in New Hampshire<br />* Boston, MA<br /><br />Four of my favorite dishes:<br /><br />* Broiled eggplant and spaghetti with a rich marinara.<br />* Roast chicken and stuffing<br />* Summer tomatoes with salt, pepper and fresh basil<br />* Cheese and crackers<br /><br />Four websites I visit daily:<br /><br />* Facebook.com<br />* Etsy.com<br />* Craftster.com<br />* crazyauntpurl.com<br /><br />Four places I would rather be right now:<br /><br />* At Rhinebeck Sheep and Wool Festival.<br />* Drinking a glass of wine at 41 West.<br />* Making dinner with a good friend.<br />* You are not allowed to know about this one. Heh.Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08046852777978787006noreply@blogger.com0