Star Shaped

I thoroughly enjoyed myself this weekend. I spent time in a car driving to a yarn shop in Bremen with a few friends; I did not buy any yarn, much as I wanted to take home the beautiful pink and green yarn I kept on admiring. I pretended I was at the Cape and played mini golf, rode go-carts, and ate ice cream, and burned the tip of my nose being outside so much. I sang in my car, wore a t-shirt outside (yes, it was THAT warm), and bought our groceries for the weekend. We ate wings and drank rum and cokes and slept in both days. The only thing I did not do that I wanted to do was take my spinning wheel outside and fill a bobbin full of handspun goodness. Life is good.

Today I leafed through a few notebooks I kept while in high school. Starting my sophomore year of high school and continuing until I graduated, I filled a few books a year. I initially used these notebooks as a place to doodle and draw in the summers with my cousin, and later on I drew out website designs and wrote bad poetry within the covers I decorated with pictures from magazines, fruit stickers, and used bingo card sheets. I’d draw people, make lists of songs I liked and bands I was getting into at the time, and of course, I’d write poetry. Bad poetry.

I cringe when I read my old poetry. I wrote about boys, boys, boys, and how different I was from everyone else around me; typical angsy teenager fare. Still, I am embarassed. It’s funny, thinking back to my teenage years, back when I’d sit in my room for hours, listening to music, waiting for that one song to come on the radio so I could record it on one of my many mix tapes. (I still deem mix tapes superior to mix CDs and even playlists, mainly because of the love and care that went into a 120 minute tape. Everything had to fit just so; it sucked when a song would get cut off because you reached the end of the tape. But, I digress.) I’d write my poetry and keep my bedroom door closed, listening to the Beatles and thought I knew it all, man. Again, typical teenager stuff.

I am glad I did keep some sort of record of my life back then. I’ve been writing in a paper journal since the age of ten, though I didn’t start writing longer, more in depth entries until about ten years ago. (Before this, I’d write roughly once a year about my crush of the moment. Riveting, yes.) Though I didn’t write a masterpiece while sweating in my non-air-conditioned bedroom on the first floor of my parents’ house, I did keep an accurate record of my life. It’s funny, looking back at things.

Spring inspires me. I feel more awake and alive today than I did a month, two months ago. January and February are my least favorite months, and while I don’t like March much either, it’s when things start warming up a little bit, a sign of things to come. But I love April. I love flowers and leaves and hearing birds outside, taking walks around the neighborhood, driving home from work at 6:30pm, windows down, sun still shining. (Yes. Today I left work at 6:30. Not too happy about staying late, though I honestly don’t have to stay late much, so I’m not too too mad when I have to at times. But still.) I’m looking forward to traveling and being near the ocean, sitting outside and drinking beers with my husband and friends, talking and laughing and enjoying ourselves.

I just love this time of year.

Both Lisanne and Laura have done this recently, so I’m going to jump in. Ask me some questions, anything you’d like to know about me. Ask as many as you want and leave your questions in the comments of this entry. I’ll answer your questions in future posts. I definitely need some new things to write about!

Today, my beautiful Pomatomus socks went from this -

to this -

all because of this -

and now I am sad. I knit these socks last summer while camping in Missouri with Scott’s family; I don’t believe the temperatures dipped below 95F so I spent the weekend in the shade or in the water, trying my hardest to stay cool.

I love this pattern. However, I knit these socks slightly too big for my small feet; I ripped both so I can knit them a bit smaller next time around. Of course, I’m totally knitting this pattern again because I love it so much. I’m hoping I love it even more with the socks fitting my feet this time around.

Of course, these won’t get knit until I finish my Jaywalkers. (On a sidenote, I’m glad I printed the pattern when I did, as Magknits has been taken down. Which is too bad.)

In other news, I’m very psyched it’s the weekend. Oh, glorious Saturday and Sunday mornings, how I covet you so.

This weekend, I randomly went to Kentucky. I also spent an insubordinate amount of time in a car, driving the interstate between Louisville and Cincinnati, happily gazing outside the windows to see mountains much like the mountains near my hometown in Massachusetts.

I’ve been drawn to blues and blacks and whites recently.

Scott’s mother, our sister-in-law, and Scott’s aunt embarked on a trip across southern Indiana and northern Kentucky on Saturday for a shop hop; the three of them purchased ‘passports’ from one of the shops, then had to get the passport ’stamped’ at eight different shops in the area. Eight. I was along for the ride during round 2 of the hop, which took me to five different shops throughout the area. I was interested. I like driving around a state I had only been to twice prior; once to Louisville about five years ago, and again to help his grandfather move into his old apartment a few years ago. I love new states.

I knit. Everyone knows I knit. What everyone does not know, however, is that I quilt. A little. Scott’s mom taught me how a few years back and got me a basic sewing machine for Christmas that year, but I haven’t devoted much time to it so far. I have a few quilting books, even, and I’ve put together a few tops. She said I did a good job for not having done it before, and I had a good time figuring things out. I think I like quilting because of the mathematical parts; measuring, fitting things together, finding a way to put the pieces together. It’s like a puzzle, somewhat.

But now I want to do more quilting. I saw some patterns I liked (how could I not; I did go to five different quilt shops, each with their own assortment of quilts adorning the walls, of course I’d find a pattern or two I liked!), and I’m pretty sure I can improvise a pattern and figure out what I need to do without buying a book. It’s pretty fascinating, the art of cutting up fabric and sewing it back together in patterns. I always liked geometry and tesselations as a kid, and I do have a minor in mathematics, so it’s no surprise I’m drawn into quilting.

001.365. I hope I stick with this.

I believe I’m going to attempt the 365 project again. I tried taking a picture of myself once a day back in August and again in October, failing after about thirty days both times. This time, I hope to take pictures every day, even if I loathe the photo immensely. I want to stick with it.

I wanted to mention this in my last post, but my husband started a blog, titled Zero Comments. Please, don’t let his blog live up to its name and leave him some feedback! He’ll be writing about politics, gaming, and life in general, and he has a post now about who he’s backing in the 2008 US Presidential election and some reasons why. I’m looking forward to reading more of his posts.

As much as I like the Tarski layout, I needed a theme of my own to grace my site. Maybe I needed to see something different for a month or two, because I like my green layout again. I want to tweak it a little bit more, but tonight I am tired.

I will hopefully write more about my weekend tomorrow. I spent most of my time in a car in Kentucky, knitting my sock and looking at fabric. I had a good time.