u.t. fasten to, attach.- af’fix n. addition. esp. to a word, as a suffix or prefix. [L. affigere, affix-, fix to]

(Amend to “fixation” and it soooooo fits.)

I’d like to talk about dreams, if I may. I’ll pause for any complaints…none? Good.

A few nights ago I dreamt that I was teaching my 17 year old sister how to cross stitch. I don’t know why this occurred…it’s not cocurrent with anything in real life, anyone knows 17 year olds don’t do much, and cross stitching isn’t one of the few things they’ll tolerate. [Aside to Laura: I’m just kidding. I know you do TONS of things. You are forever busy, and I apologize for saying you don’t do anything. What? She can’t hear me? She’s still sleeping? Ok, someone tell her when she gets up.] In this dream, she brought me a piece of Aida that she was working on. To her credit, she’d done something really cool with it, that I can picture her actually doing in real life (if, again, cross stitching was something a 17 year old would do). She’d painted the fabric first with the image she wanted, and was stitching over the little squares just for a subtle effect. It looked good, and I was impressed that she’d come up with it on her own. (Does anyone else find it strange that I’m impressed with my sister for something my brain made up that she did?) I can only image that this dream means I’d like to get her interested in my hobbies (even though I haven’t cross stitched since April) or that I’d like to spend more time with her. [Aside to Laura: This means you!]

Last night’s dream needs no interpretation. You know Oprah’s Favorite Things Show? Let’s just say that in this dream I was there, and it was Oprah’s Favorite Knitting Things Show. There were needles. There was yarn. The wools! The colors! It was a dream come true! There were passes for the entire audience to the next Stitches (which I think is a crafty cruise). I don’t know when it actually takes place, but Oprah had us all chanting “8 days in May!” over and over. People were fainting. I think I swooned a few times. And all I kept thinking is “see, I just admitted on my blog that I’m addicted, and now I’m here, this is perfect!”.

And then I woke up.

Let me just say that reality has never come crashing down on me in such a dissappointing way since the dream I had when I was 8 that Christopher Reeve proposed to me. (Bygones. Let’s not speak of this again).

Sigh.

u.t. fasten to, attach.- af’fix n. addition. esp. to a word, as a suffix or prefix. [L. affigere, affix-, fix to]

(Amend to “fixation” and it soooooo fits.)

I’d like to talk about dreams, if I may. I’ll pause for any complaints…none? Good.

A few nights ago I dreamt that I was teaching my 17 year old sister how to cross stitch. I don’t know why this occurred…it’s not cocurrent with anything in real life, anyone knows 17 year olds don’t do much, and cross stitching isn’t one of the few things they’ll tolerate. [Aside to Laura: I’m just kidding. I know you do TONS of things. You are forever busy, and I apologize for saying you don’t do anything. What? She can’t hear me? She’s still sleeping? Ok, someone tell her when she gets up.] In this dream, she brought me a piece of Aida that she was working on. To her credit, she’d done something really cool with it, that I can picture her actually doing in real life (if, again, cross stitching was something a 17 year old would do). She’d painted the fabric first with the image she wanted, and was stitching over the little squares just for a subtle effect. It looked good, and I was impressed that she’d come up with it on her own. (Does anyone else find it strange that I’m impressed with my sister for something my brain made up that she did?) I can only image that this dream means I’d like to get her interested in my hobbies (even though I haven’t cross stitched since April) or that I’d like to spend more time with her. [Aside to Laura: This means you!]

Last night’s dream needs no interpretation. You know Oprah’s Favorite Things Show? Let’s just say that in this dream I was there, and it was Oprah’s Favorite Knitting Things Show. There were needles. There was yarn. The wools! The colors! It was a dream come true! There were passes for the entire audience to the next Stitches (which I think is a crafty cruise). I don’t know when it actually takes place, but Oprah had us all chanting “8 days in May!” over and over. People were fainting. I think I swooned a few times. And all I kept thinking is “see, I just admitted on my blog that I’m addicted, and now I’m here, this is perfect!”.

And then I woke up.

Let me just say that reality has never come crashing down on me in such a dissappointing way since the dream I had when I was 8 that Christopher Reeve proposed to me. (Bygones. Let’s not speak of this again).

Sigh.

u.t. fasten to, attach.- af’fix n. addition. esp. to a word, as a suffix or prefix. [L. affigere, affix-, fix to]

(Amend to “fixation” and it soooooo fits.)

I’d like to talk about dreams, if I may. I’ll pause for any complaints…none? Good.

A few nights ago I dreamt that I was teaching my 17 year old sister how to cross stitch. I don’t know why this occurred…it’s not cocurrent with anything in real life, anyone knows 17 year olds don’t do much, and cross stitching isn’t one of the few things they’ll tolerate. [Aside to Laura: I’m just kidding. I know you do TONS of things. You are forever busy, and I apologize for saying you don’t do anything. What? She can’t hear me? She’s still sleeping? Ok, someone tell her when she gets up.] In this dream, she brought me a piece of Aida that she was working on. To her credit, she’d done something really cool with it, that I can picture her actually doing in real life (if, again, cross stitching was something a 17 year old would do). She’d painted the fabric first with the image she wanted, and was stitching over the little squares just for a subtle effect. It looked good, and I was impressed that she’d come up with it on her own. (Does anyone else find it strange that I’m impressed with my sister for something my brain made up that she did?) I can only image that this dream means I’d like to get her interested in my hobbies (even though I haven’t cross stitched since April) or that I’d like to spend more time with her. [Aside to Laura: This means you!]

Last night’s dream needs no interpretation. You know Oprah’s Favorite Things Show? Let’s just say that in this dream I was there, and it was Oprah’s Favorite Knitting Things Show. There were needles. There was yarn. The wools! The colors! It was a dream come true! There were passes for the entire audience to the next Stitches (which I think is a crafty cruise). I don’t know when it actually takes place, but Oprah had us all chanting “8 days in May!” over and over. People were fainting. I think I swooned a few times. And all I kept thinking is “see, I just admitted on my blog that I’m addicted, and now I’m here, this is perfect!”.

And then I woke up.

Let me just say that reality has never come crashing down on me in such a dissappointing way since the dream I had when I was 8 that Christopher Reeve proposed to me. (Bygones. Let’s not speak of this again).

Sigh.

a. defying imitation.- inim’itably adv. [imitate]

Damn straight!

I’d like to make a public announcement. I know that by doing this I am putting myself out there for ridicule, shame and embarassment, locusts, vermin and boils. But I don’t care. I am

Officially Obsessed With Knitting

I think I came to the realization today when my mom told me she was going to Plattsburgh on Friday and I asked her to bring me back yarn. I might even have specified “sock” yarn. I swear that last year I didn’t know such a thing existed, and now it’s all I can do to tear myself away from the bright or detailed colors. The lure of using said yarn to make a really cool pair of mittens is so strong that I have to actually stroke some skeins I already own to remind myself that there are other really cool things I could knit first (that don’t require spending more money).

Isn’t it amazing that some people actually take to knitting to save money? You just know that somewhere out there a young (or old) woman (or man) turned to her (or his) husband (or wife…or husband…or goat) and said “You know what honey? I’m not going to pay rediculous department store prices for sweaters any more! And look how much the Gap is charging for a simple striped scarf- craziness! I’m going to learn how to knit and I’ll save us money by making my own stuff!”. And somewhere up in the heavens above the Knitting Goddess looked down and smiled benevolently and folded her hands lovingly in her lap and thought “Gotcha!” (You just know she turned to the nearest God or Goddess, rubbed her hands together with glee and gloated about getting “another one”)

In time, of course, that new young (or old) knitter will look around what was once a house (and is now redubbed the Yarn Storage Facility) and at her (or his) husband (or wife…or husband…or goat) (who is now redubbed the Skein Holder or the Person Who Must Not Answer The Door When The Postman Brings Yet Another Package of Yarn or Related Books) and will go on the internet (which is now redubbed the Excellent Source of All Things Knitty) and post a warning to the next young (or old) soul to begin knitting to save money.

Consider yourself warned.

a. defying imitation.- inim’itably adv. [imitate]

Damn straight!

I’d like to make a public announcement. I know that by doing this I am putting myself out there for ridicule, shame and embarassment, locusts, vermin and boils. But I don’t care. I am

Officially Obsessed With Knitting

I think I came to the realization today when my mom told me she was going to Plattsburgh on Friday and I asked her to bring me back yarn. I might even have specified “sock” yarn. I swear that last year I didn’t know such a thing existed, and now it’s all I can do to tear myself away from the bright or detailed colors. The lure of using said yarn to make a really cool pair of mittens is so strong that I have to actually stroke some skeins I already own to remind myself that there are other really cool things I could knit first (that don’t require spending more money).

Isn’t it amazing that some people actually take to knitting to save money? You just know that somewhere out there a young (or old) woman (or man) turned to her (or his) husband (or wife…or husband…or goat) and said “You know what honey? I’m not going to pay rediculous department store prices for sweaters any more! And look how much the Gap is charging for a simple striped scarf- craziness! I’m going to learn how to knit and I’ll save us money by making my own stuff!”. And somewhere up in the heavens above the Knitting Goddess looked down and smiled benevolently and folded her hands lovingly in her lap and thought “Gotcha!” (You just know she turned to the nearest God or Goddess, rubbed her hands together with glee and gloated about getting “another one”)

In time, of course, that new young (or old) knitter will look around what was once a house (and is now redubbed the Yarn Storage Facility) and at her (or his) husband (or wife…or husband…or goat) (who is now redubbed the Skein Holder or the Person Who Must Not Answer The Door When The Postman Brings Yet Another Package of Yarn or Related Books) and will go on the internet (which is now redubbed the Excellent Source of All Things Knitty) and post a warning to the next young (or old) soul to begin knitting to save money.

Consider yourself warned.

a. defying imitation.- inim’itably adv. [imitate]

Damn straight!

I’d like to make a public announcement. I know that by doing this I am putting myself out there for ridicule, shame and embarassment, locusts, vermin and boils. But I don’t care. I am

Officially Obsessed With Knitting

I think I came to the realization today when my mom told me she was going to Plattsburgh on Friday and I asked her to bring me back yarn. I might even have specified “sock” yarn. I swear that last year I didn’t know such a thing existed, and now it’s all I can do to tear myself away from the bright or detailed colors. The lure of using said yarn to make a really cool pair of mittens is so strong that I have to actually stroke some skeins I already own to remind myself that there are other really cool things I could knit first (that don’t require spending more money).

Isn’t it amazing that some people actually take to knitting to save money? You just know that somewhere out there a young (or old) woman (or man) turned to her (or his) husband (or wife…or husband…or goat) and said “You know what honey? I’m not going to pay rediculous department store prices for sweaters any more! And look how much the Gap is charging for a simple striped scarf- craziness! I’m going to learn how to knit and I’ll save us money by making my own stuff!”. And somewhere up in the heavens above the Knitting Goddess looked down and smiled benevolently and folded her hands lovingly in her lap and thought “Gotcha!” (You just know she turned to the nearest God or Goddess, rubbed her hands together with glee and gloated about getting “another one”)

In time, of course, that new young (or old) knitter will look around what was once a house (and is now redubbed the Yarn Storage Facility) and at her (or his) husband (or wife…or husband…or goat) (who is now redubbed the Skein Holder or the Person Who Must Not Answer The Door When The Postman Brings Yet Another Package of Yarn or Related Books) and will go on the internet (which is now redubbed the Excellent Source of All Things Knitty) and post a warning to the next young (or old) soul to begin knitting to save money.

Consider yourself warned.

a. defying imitation.- inim’itably adv. [imitate]

Damn straight!

I’d like to make a public announcement. I know that by doing this I am putting myself out there for ridicule, shame and embarassment, locusts, vermin and boils. But I don’t care. I am

Officially Obsessed With Knitting

I think I came to the realization today when my mom told me she was going to Plattsburgh on Friday and I asked her to bring me back yarn. I might even have specified “sock” yarn. I swear that last year I didn’t know such a thing existed, and now it’s all I can do to tear myself away from the bright or detailed colors. The lure of using said yarn to make a really cool pair of mittens is so strong that I have to actually stroke some skeins I already own to remind myself that there are other really cool things I could knit first (that don’t require spending more money).

Isn’t it amazing that some people actually take to knitting to save money? You just know that somewhere out there a young (or old) woman (or man) turned to her (or his) husband (or wife…or husband…or goat) and said “You know what honey? I’m not going to pay rediculous department store prices for sweaters any more! And look how much the Gap is charging for a simple striped scarf- craziness! I’m going to learn how to knit and I’ll save us money by making my own stuff!”. And somewhere up in the heavens above the Knitting Goddess looked down and smiled benevolently and folded her hands lovingly in her lap and thought “Gotcha!” (You just know she turned to the nearest God or Goddess, rubbed her hands together with glee and gloated about getting “another one”)

In time, of course, that new young (or old) knitter will look around what was once a house (and is now redubbed the Yarn Storage Facility) and at her (or his) husband (or wife…or husband…or goat) (who is now redubbed the Skein Holder or the Person Who Must Not Answer The Door When The Postman Brings Yet Another Package of Yarn or Related Books) and will go on the internet (which is now redubbed the Excellent Source of All Things Knitty) and post a warning to the next young (or old) soul to begin knitting to save money.

Consider yourself warned.

(swa-nyâ) soignée (fem.) a. extremely well-groomed. [F]

Um…not at the moment since I’m about to jump into the shower, but let’s pretend shall we? Just imagine I’m sitting here, feet all toasty in a hand knit pair of socks, legs warm in the knitted sweatpants I will make (just got the pattern, yippee!), wrapped up in my landscape cardigan designed by DKNY, and even a knitted scrunchie in my hair. Yep, I’m soigné all right. Let’s go with that.

Note to all who might end up in Sainte-Anne-de-Belleview at any point in their lives: eat at Le Surcouf. Absolutely EXCELLENT French restaurant in a charming little home. It doesn’t hurt to make reservations, even during the week. And not too pricey at all. Be warned though, a meal there lasts at least 2.5 hours. Seriously.

Yannick took me there last night for our anniversary. I’d like to say I was soigné last night, but honestly? I went straight from work. Correction- I went straight from work to Bureau en Gros to have his gift bound, and then straight home to jump into his car and head off to the restaurant. I was a little un-soigné. Wanna get jealous? Listen to this yummy meal: he had a Heineken, croustade d’escargots (snails on a phillo bed with leeks), special du chef (chef’s special, in this case wapiti (elk) with a bitter chocolate sauce) and assiette du fromage (cheese plate, which we shared). I had an amaretto sour, soupe du jour (soup of the day, cream of tomato, zucchini and basil), carré d’agneau au jus (rack of lamb in its own juices) and i don’t remember the French name (cold prailine cake, which we shared). It was fantastic! (Oh, in case you’re wondering why we didn’t have any anniversary wine, well, I didn’t want to fall asleep during the meal.)

He also gave me a really sweet anniversary gift. I won’t get into it here, but let’s just say it involves him knitting. :]

(-a-) n. ludicrous descent from the elevated to the mean in writing or speech. [G. bathys, deep, sphaira, sphere]

I couldn’t resist sharing a link to this adorable set of bedsheets:

How cute is this?!? I think I want it. Do they make them for waterbeds? Hmmm…

Oh, and it’s not mean. Ludicrous maybe, but not mean. 🙂

(-a-) n. ludicrous descent from the elevated to the mean in writing or speech. [G. bathys, deep, sphaira, sphere]

I couldn’t resist sharing a link to this adorable set of bedsheets:

How cute is this?!? I think I want it. Do they make them for waterbeds? Hmmm…

Oh, and it’s not mean. Ludicrous maybe, but not mean. 🙂