In all my spare time

When I was hired at Cultured Purls Shannon, the owner, explained that any classes they offer are free to me as long as I'm not scheduled to work. A fun perk, and practical, since I truly would like to learn how to knit socks on 2 circular needles as a way to prevent impaling myself again when I toss my half-finished socks into my purse with my size 1 double pointed needles, and then am painfully reminded of them as I dig for my keys.

We have a new instructor, Shiori, at the shop and she is an extremely gifted knitter and teacher. She is teaching a sweater design class and Shannon wanted to make sure all of the employees had a chance to take this class. So she conveniently scheduled the employee class at 8:00 on Saturday mornings. Mara, my manager, made a point of telling me that the class is optional, but since Shannon cheerfully waved to me with a "see you in class!!", I decided it would be in my best interest to go.

After returning from a full day of work, which was preceded by my first 2 hour sweater design class, Mike naively asks "how was your class?"

Me: well, we need to talk about that.

Mike: uh oh

Me: this class is way more than I thought it would be. Half way through the class Shannon started suggesting types of yarn we should select for our sweaters.

Mike: you have to knit a sweater?

Me: apparently

Mike: what about that pattern you just bought? Can't you just use that?

Me: you mean that Paton's Must Have Cardigan pattern that I bought from the Pacific Fabric's going-out-of-business sale for $4.00? I don't think that would go over very well.

Mike: but didn't you buy the yarn for that one already?

Me (thinking to myself): you mean I could have already purchased the yarn for this and he wouldn't have known? Why am I even having this conversation with him?

Me (outloud): no, I bought hat yarn for Venue. And I can't take a class on designing my own sweater and then use a store bought pattern.

Mike: what do you mean you're designing a sweater? I thought that meant you just picked out the color.

Me: I wish. Apparently I have to draw the whole thing from scratch and then actually knit it. And I'm suppose to show up to class next Saturday with my swatch all ready to go.

Mike: why are you taking this class?

Me: because Shannon said "see you in class!"

Mike: and how much is this going to cost?

Me: about $80. Our customers are paying $175, before materials, for this class. So this is a bargain...when I will actually find the time to knit my swatch, let alone design an entire adult sized sweater and then knit it, I don't know. But how do I not actually do this class?

Mike: [mutters something unintelligible and shakes his head as he walks away]

To Do

Jen's To Do list for Thursday:

1. Write blog entry as a way to avoid the rest of To Do list.

2. Put away the rest of my Christmas decorations that are in a big heap in the dining room.

3. Change everyone's sheets. Often an optional task; NOT optional anymore.

4. Put away clean laundry/gather dirty laundry from all corners of the house. Didn't I just do this?

5. Walk into the kitchen to attempt to clean it. End up standing in the middle of it all and cry tears of frustration because there is no point to cleaning this sesspool of a room that immediately becomes contaminated the second anyone of the male species living in this house walks into it and fails to notice the crunching sensation under their feet.

6. Feed Eric. See #5.

7. Try to convince Eric to change out of his pajamas. Ok fine. Then at least put on clean underwear. No, seriously, you MUST wear clean underwear. Look! Here is your glow-in-the-dark Darth Vader underwear! Aren't those fun? No, don't turn the lights out so we can see them glow right now--I have things to do. I said to leave the lights on. PUT YOUR PANTS BACK ON. I CAN'T CHANGE YOUR SHEETS IN THE DARK. Yes, I can see them glowing. Can we please turn the lights back on now? Thank you.

8. Try to decide if I should actually vacuum or just put the vacuum away that has been sitting in the living room for 3 days.

9. Pick Ryan up from the bus.

10. Tell the boys they can play the Wii, but there will be no fighting over who is Player One, who gets to go first, which game they are going to play, and whether or not Eric is allowed to talk or breathe during Ryan's turn.

11. Take away Wii controllers 4 minutes later when #9 fails.

12. Try to knit 49 hats.

13. Leave for work at 4:30. Revel in my first moment of solitude since 6:30 this morning.

14. Return from work at 7:30. See #'s 1-12.

Liars

Yesterday the big story in Seattle was snow. They interrupted our regular programming several times throughout the day to remind us of the impending storm coming our way that evening. They interrupted Ellen (and by the way, her segment on the Hawaii Chair was just about the funniest thing I've seen her do in a long time. It's on her website...)which really annoys me. 4 inches of snow heading right for us. Last night as Mike and I sat watching Two and a Half Men there was a ticker that ran across the bottom of the screen for the entire show reminding us of the snow advisory. At least two different local stations ran special "weather shows" at 9:30 last night to explain the hazardous conditions, show that the Department of Transportation had 100 trucks waiting to sand the roads, how to drive in the snow, which areas will be hit first....

You would think that we would have seen at least one snowflake. At all. IT DID NOT SNOW. It's not like we got less snow. Or that it showed up a little later than expected. It did not snow. What we did get was a big windstorm, which I am experiencing right now. You know, they weren't even close with that one. Even Ted Baxter could have figured this one out.

Honestly, it's like Seattle is the internship for people fresh out of Meteorology School. It's pretty typical for the meteorologists (and I use the term loosely. Just because they assign that title to themselves, doesn't make it true) on each of our local channels to report pretty different forecasts. Mike and I often will look at a few different channels, then average them out. And for a couple of them, I think it's their first tv experience. Really, I don't think the weather is suppose to be goofy. And what is with people submitting pictures of their pets to the weather guy? Why am I looking at someone's kitty playing with a ball of string when I'm trying to plan my outdoor bar-b-que party for the weekend? Once a weather guy gets really good, they leave Seattle and move on to the big leagues where they can accurately predict the weather in Boston. But no one actually moves on to Seattle for this job. That has got to be the walk of shame for weather people.

But as inaccurate as each local channel usually is with the weather, yesterday they were all completely in sync. They were all so so so so wrong, but they were all wrong in the exact same way. It like they all copied their test from the class dunce, thinking he knew the answers. Tip: when you steal the other team's playbook, make sure it's better then what you've got.

Maybe my dad knows something after all?

Maybe my dad knows something after all?

Mike saw this at the grocery store today. Perhaps we'll be saying a sad farewall to Paul sooner than we thought? Whatever you do, don't show my mom!

Well, this day sucks

All weekend long the news has been promising/predicting/threatening snow. Cultured Purls was a tomb all weekend long because people were so freaked out by the snow that never was. Ok, I understand you not wanting to go out in the snow. I get that. But this weekend it did not snow. And it was about 40 degrees, so it was not going to snow. A quick trip to the yarn shop was not going to kill you.

And then late last night it snowed and all of Seattle ran shrieking for cover. Now I know there are areas that received a few inches. Those areas are not near my house. We received a dusting. And by a dusting, I mean I could still count my blades of grass and all of my mole hills. And yet, schools throughout Western Washington are closed. And I am home with my kids. There is not enough snow outside to make it fun and, I repeat, I am home with my kids. At least the big grumpy one finally went to work after stomping around and insisting that he was not in a bad mood (self employed people particularly hate the snow. Like it's MY fault it "snowed").

And here is the kicker: Tonight it is suppose to seriously snow. They're already talking about it. We're suppose to get 4 inches and all of this slush we're dealing with right now will turn to solid ice. Clearly there will be no school tomorrow. That is two, count 'em, two days home with my kids. And the big grumpy one will probably have to stay home too. And the amount of solitude I will get in the next two days is zero.

And I need the solitude for some serious hat knitting. I was contacted this weekend by a new shop owner in Fremont who is just about to open up her new store, Willow and Bloom. Apparently she has been shopping and shopping for just the right baby line and thinks I am it. After emailing back and forth a few times and talking with her on the phone, I am really excited to get some hats to her by mid-February. Now I hesitate to tell all of you about this because I'm afraid you may react like my husband did, which was to shake his head and start to mutter to himself. And honestly, I'm not sure how I'm going to pull all of this off because I still have this Artist of the Month business for Venue to work on. I am thinking about dropping Happy Delusions. I have 3 months left on my lease, but my stuff is moving so slowly that I don't have to knit much for them. So that sounds like it might relieve some of the stress, but I guess it really won't. But how can I say no to this? This is what I've been working toward, isn't it?.

I have started Leah's convertible mittens, which are adorable. I'm working on a pair of socks for my sister. Cinderella--not touched. My scarf--slowly growing. And then there are the things I want to begin knitting: the Woolly Snowmen, Paton's Must Have Cardigan, my socks, and new baby Blake's what-ever-I-decide-on. I finished one of my convertible mittens, declared it a disaster, made notes of everthing I did wrong, then took it apart. I think I can fit in a few dozen baby hats into this schedule, don't you think?