East + West Divided by two = Mid, Right?

I made some fingerless gloves, and I tried to either upload or embed the picture...but failed miserably when trying to use the fancy buttons I've been given in this lovely and updated blogger.

Good thing blogger hasn't completely given up on letting us have the html window.

So last year, I made a smoke ring out of some super soft Regia Silk sock yarn.  But I had some left over.  Just enough to make something matchy and girly and ship it to the middle of the country.  I used the same first part of the pattern, which I'm realizing I never actually articulated, bad blogger!  It is "Vent d'est vent d'ouest" by Marie Adeline Boyer; which translates into East Wind, West Wind, hence the post title.  And then tacked on a made-up fingerless glove pattern based on the different sites that helped me cobble together fingerless gloves that I made my niece and nephew...which I'm thinking I also never mentioned...okay, more on that later, then...

For now though, I wanted something my February birthday girl could wear under big bulky mittens as she waited out her kids' Spring sports practices, or walks outside, or treks to the grocery store for that matter, in the environs of the Midwest. Which is why I chose some hardier yarn, Dale of Norway "Falk" in a matchy gray for the tops of the knuckles and the thumb, as they'd get chafed by the mittens or gloves that would be pulled on over them.

It's hard for me to look at these and not be smug.  Yeah, I used an existing pattern for the cuff but wrist up? ALL ME!  Okay, just a tube with a thumb sticking out...but I figured out how to make the tube!  And make it three dimensional!!!  I feel like a little kid that just learned to button up all her buttons ALL. By. My. Self!  But even more so after going to the Madrona Fiber Festival Shopping area and seeing some pre-made fingerless gloves for sale and how they decided to shortcut their thumbs.  I did not get a picture cuz, well, I didn't think about it soon enough, but their construction was odd and would be comfortable only if you didn't actually plan to DO anything that involved opening your hand all the way while wearing them.  Okay, smuggy nature off.

For future referencing:  I used US #2s.  CO about 56 stitches and wound up with 44 at the end of the cuff, so I slowly added them back to make and add on the thumb.  It was a wonderful puzzle to solve, and kept me from getting bored.  I'm currently working on socks for my nephew and have reached the foot...and am soooooo le bored.  So much so I started another smoke ring, this time for me!  Out of some Socks that Rock Medium weight that I procured at the aforementioned fiber festival.  I'm going to try to take a picture and will post that as well...it is rather gray out, as the gloves above are proof, not the best picture-taking weather.

I need these more complicated things to keep my brain from wandering and wondering about my previous posts...and thus far all I can share is that I've gotten an email instead of a phone call.  But a good one.  Well, how about not a bad one.  Wait wait wait some more...le sigh.  Such is life.

I Need A Better Watch

I had to physically stop and take a deep breath and look back at my posting date a couple times this week.

Really, brain, it has only been one week.  One looooooooong and stressful, and achingly mind-scarring week.  One week that seems like a LIFETIME when all you can think of is "call me." "Call me." "DAMN IT, please call me..."  It's like I'm sixteen and dateless all over again.

Tie that together with the "close of year" (yes, in February) deadlines.  Or I should say DEADlines, no exceptions what so ever(!), and my sense of how much time has actually passed will grow or contract depending on what computer screen I'm looking at.

Sanity has come from a fellow coworker and the East coast sayings her mom is chock full off.  I love them in how positive and so not-Mexican-mom sounding they are.  I don't think I'll ever hear my own mom say something even remotely close to "Don't even take that class, girlfriend."  Like, ever.

So I made some fingerless gloves that I may have to put in the dryer if they're not ready to go by tomorrow AM...more on that, later.

Everything All At Once...Again

I'd like to blame the hormones.

Not necessarily my hormones, either.

How is it we can go weeks, months, possibly years (please, years is nice) with the same ole' same ole' and then all of a sudden, shot-in-the-dark-style, everything right is wrong again (to quote my favorite alternative 90's band.)

Maybe it is just me.  I am an ever-changing, adaptable, personable, professional (wait, that's the kind of stuff I put on cover letters, never mind...) But I have to admit, when I get this way, I look for new things.  It takes a LOT to get me to this point...I am in love with safe zones and comfort, maybe a little lazy at heart, easily amused, willing to let things slide off of me like juice off washable yarn...yet somehow?  It's happened.

NO!  Calm yourselves, it's not knitting that's brought me to this point.  That would be the exact opposite.  I know, I never post ANYTHING anymore, much less pictures of all the things that keep me from exploding.  Even the site that I joined that's wholly dedicated to all-things-yarn, well, it has my profile, but I'm just too quick at giving stuff away to document it.  Maybe what I need is a twitter for crafts?  Critter?  (OMG if I just came up with the next million-dollar social media site idea!!! Yeah, no. Way too many of those already.)  And it's not Seattle.  It's not friends, nor even family.  I know you're all intelligent stalkers/readers, so I'll not insult you and just keep going.

Anywho, parts of my life got ummm dull, and very soon started grating against me.  First extremely minor, but slowly building up into big whopping against the grain/nails on chalkboard/in the car with your sibling for way too long kind of ways.  And seriously I can't tell if it's me being overly sensitive, or if there really is a conspiracy going on against me!  You know, so I can be made an example.  Be shown "my place." At every-day-that-much-closer-to-forty*, I've learned I can't stand that BS.  I graduated high school So.Very.Long.Ago.  I do believe 2012 might actually be one of those "significant" years even.  Suffice to say?  I play very well with others, but I hate silly games.  Especially when people are only out to "prove something."  So I've officially taken steps.

As my mom said just yesterday when I let her in on what I needed praying for (What?  Doesn't everyone ask their religious-bent folken to intercede with their deities on their behalf at times when you think "A little more can't hurt?") we all have to keep moving forward.  Cuz, otherwise (thank you A.H. in whose little boy mid-west twang I will always hear this in my head)  you're stu-uck.  And now it's all about "hurry up and wait."  Either this will be a wake up call for them....or me.  It goes both ways.

I think I just need to know where I stand in the world.  Like I said, significant time has lapsed since I was fresh and young and had a whole life in front of me.  I refuse to become a bitter old mature woman.  I let a lot of things pass me by and sometimes do wallow in the "what could have beens" I will not lie to you, that would make all of this useless to me,  but you don't win the lottery by just watching the adverts.**  And I guess I just bought my first scratcher in four years. (Did that metaphor go to far?)

And thank you blog, for being here like an old friend so I can at least let that much out.  It's like taking an enormous cleansing breath.  I started you so I wouldn't make my housemates go stark raving mad about all the yarn and patterns and WIPs and FOs and rants like these...and I miss you.  And I'm trying to come back.  Again, taking steps...though some might be itty in comparison.


*I know, I know, I've got a couple years yet to go.  I think I hold forty as the new 25.  Or something. You know, that "age" that we used to make lists about?  "When I am 25 I will have a nice haircut."  Or is that something only I used to do?


**I have no idea where some of these sayings are coming from...I blame the creeping anxiety + maybe a little more coffee that I usually drink on a Saturday morning.