New Knitting Moves

In order to put more flair in the “Mean Green” Scarf, I’m teaching myself some new knitting moves.

Don’t you dare laugh at me.

I’m learning how to Yarn Over. Which is odd because I most probably won’t use it for the scarf. Still, I need the working to get my creative juices flowing regarding the scarf.

I know it’s not much by some standards but, to me, this is practically Rocket Science. I’m still at a level where SSK and YO are speaking to me in a rapid staccato my untrained mind cannot as of yet fully decipher. Sure, some of the terms are familiar and, if I really focus, I can make out a bit of it based on the common rootwords involved but it’s really like someone dropping me in the middle of ancient Rome with only a rudimentary understanding of Quebecois French as my linguistic guide.

If you could only see how I study languages…

Still, I’ve got the new ball of “practice yarn” out and I’m determined. This ball (The Artist formerly known as “The scarf for my paternal parental”) will become a bag. That much is for certain. I’ve got my 29″ circulars out for just the purpose and I’m pretty much going to go in a circle making mistakes until I get it right. I guess I’ll have to learn Crochet for sure to make the bottom given how big this thing is likely to be. I figure if my melon head needs 80CO stitches for a well fitted hat then this bag should be at least 140CO to make a good sized shoulder bag. It’s acrylic, so it’s not like it’s going to shrink in the wash or anything.

Hopefully, by the time I get to “the top”, I’ll have learned how to make button holes or something. I’d like for this to be a “drawstring” bag if I can make it.

Nah, wrong language.

It will be one because I will make it.

Electra Complex…I Think Not!

Er…talked with the paternal parental again last night.

Oh, I’m so glad to be a bastard.

Oh, you’ve no idea how glad I am to be a bastard.

I consider it a mark of honor that:

1. My parents never got married.
2. My father was/is a very distant father, at best.
3. If nothing else, I inherited the stubborn streak from him which prevents me being like him in any way other than the stubbornness.

I love being a bastard. Capital B-A-S-T-A-R-D BASTARD.

Last night, while being forced on the telephone by the maternal parental, I was forced to endure had a chance to hear more of the “Life lessons”. Please note the quotation marks people. These are HIS words.

Apparently, the only good lawyer is a “Jew lawyer” and he won his case because of his “Jew lawyers” even though one robbed him as “They” do.

Oh, it gets better from there…

Ignoring all the successful black people there are in the world…my sister (his daughter) included…he then talks about how “The White Man” goes to school and starts a business when “he” comes out and that’s why “he’s” rich. In contrast, “The Black Man” goes to school and comes out buying a fancy car, big house, etc.

Then it went from ethnic group to ethnic group…religious group to religious group…

I’ll put it to you this way; he won’t be getting any invitations to the UN or any Ecumenical Congresses anytime soon.

Add this to his misogynistic view that all women should be spitting out as many children as possible for being “tainted by and descended from Eve”, he probably won’t be getting any invites to any family functions of mine either.

My family line starts with me. I’m not even giving any kids I have the surnames and that’s if I have them.