Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Dinosaur Jr

So I went ahead and attempted a brimmed beanie again.

Considering that my Homefront girls Twoseasidebabes and Beth rock at them, but don't do appliques I figured I wasn't stepping on any toes.

Well the beanie came out ok, not perfect, but hell is works right?

BUT.... when I went to put the blue dinosaur applique on it I discovered it was way too big. Trying to position this applique on the hat to where it didn't resemble some sort of alien foot was impossible.

Thus a miniaturized version of this new applique design was born. I think it turned out ok, but I'm going to have to figure out what to do with it's big brother version.

Oh crap


That's pretty much sums up what I think about my house right now. I can't figure out how it got like this or even where to start the whole decrapping process.

I'm one of those people who can't focus, think, or much less distinguish my ass from my elbow when I'm surrounded by a sea of clutter.

And considering that Moose Threads is dependant upon my sense of creativity, staring at a mess that looks like Geoffry the Giraffe from Toys R Us went on a three-day bender and used my house as his toilet is a bit counterproductive.

(can we say run-on sentence?)

Anyone else ever feel like this?

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Attack of the applique's

So I had some time finally to sit down and figure out some new boy designs. I have so many girly hats and not too many boy ones. I figure it's about time I even everything out.

Here are the two designs I came up with. A dinosaur and a snake. I decided to add the eyeballs to give them a more cartoony look.

I still think I need a few more designs. If you have any suggestions for what I can try to make let me know. I love challenges

Friday, July 25, 2008

Moose Musings

When crocheting with Navy Blue wool yarn it it probably best to not do so with a cat in your lap. This yarn attracts cat hair better than Britney Spears' crotch attracts the paparazzi. It's everywhere.


Nothing is more hysterical than watching your husband get....ahem...."cock-blocked" by a "pussy" aka Zsa Zsa Gabor.
All my poor husband tried to do was put his arm around me when ZOOM!!!! ZZ - with her super hearing - was up the stairs, through our door and on our bed in what seemed like 10 seconds. She then proceeded to plant herself directly between us, with her nose pressed to mine and her butt shoved in my husband's face.

"Kiss my ass Mr. she's MINE" I could almost hear her saying.

Laundry is not meant to be folded for the purpose of being put away neatly into drawers. Instead it is meant for toddlers to lay, roll, throw, dump and scatter, thus allowing the now empty laundry basket to be used as a fort, step stool, race car..... you get the picture.

Technology is a wonderful thing. Cell phones I believe were made for one purpose - to warn people of your impending arrival upon their doorstep.
If you wish to pay me a visit please call first. Otherwise I can't guarantee that you won't find me sans pants, chasing David while attempting to find my car keys and shoes.
With my child's recent facination with laundry, getting dressed in the morning, especially if I don't want to look like I'm color-blind and cross-eyed, is more like reenacting a scene out of an Indiana Jones movie.
Obstables abound if I want to find the perfect outfit.
The other day I actually found one shoe in the bathtub, with the other hidden under the office bed.

My husband made a comment last night that made me feel so proud that my head grew larger than J Lo's booty after a five-day brownie-fest. I was sitting in the recliner, attempting to create a helicopter. My first attempt sucked, my second just looked like I put it together after an all-night bender. My third, however, I think looked pretty cool.
Upon looking at my third attempt my husband proceeded to look at his parents and say "Isn't she freaking talented! She can make anything. It's amazing!"

Poor guy, breaks out a comment like that only to be "cocked-blocked by a pussy" that night.

Sorry it's so funny I had to say it again.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Can you tell me what this is?

If you think it's a helicopter WHEW!

This was one request that was driving me nuts.

I need opinions on this design. What do you like? Suggestions?

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Ahoy Matey!

So I had the wonderful request from my dear girl Tulip to make her daughter a sub hat. Yet the coolest part was that she wanted the sub to be black and the rest to be hot pink.

I think this turned out amazing!

What do you think?

Saturday, July 19, 2008

How do I love thee.....

Let me NOT count the ways.....

Ok so I picked up this sock yarn about two months ago at my local LYS (little yarn store). It was being clearanced out and was the same company as who made that crazy artist yarn my sister-in-law picked out. A nice wool from Germany.

I thought the color-way might be interesting etc and I have two huge 400 yard + skeins of this.

Well and let's face it... it was discounted crack.

Last night I didn't even use half a skein (dispite losing some yarn from a failed frogging) and I whipped out these pair of socks.

The yarn isn't as giving as the merino wool and I found that while it worked great when I made the adult socks for some reason when I shrunk the pattern down it was a pretty snug fit. There isn't a lot of room for stretch.

I then decided to try a different cuff and added 6 rows of a shell stitching at the top, which I then folded down into a cuff.

Needless to say I'm not thrilled and am not sure where to go from here.

Do I list it on Etsy? Do I ask a friend to have their child test-drive it? I'd hate to sell it only for the person not to be able to get it over their foot.

Plus I'm not sure the socks are even cute. The colors just don't "do" it for me.

Friday, July 18, 2008

The pen is mightier then the sword?

I must say that although I have always been one of those annoying talkers -- you know the ones that tell you their life story within 2 seconds of meeting them. The ones that talk to much you want to staple their lips together -- that I am NOT someone who can verbally explain my feelings.

My mother always said that on paper I had a way with words that was incomparable to anything or anyone she's ever encountered. My sense of humor and perspective on the world are so different from the norm that if I were to express some of the thoughts that come to my mind out loud I'd either be labeled a geek, freak or sent in for a psychiatric evaluation.

I mean come on, who else (other than Two) uses the phrase Monkey Butt as much as I do?

I write this now because while I have an appointment next week to receive a referral to a counselor, I wonder if "talking" about my feeling is going to really help me.

In the past month or so I've been writing on this blog, I have had more relief, laughter, tears and support than I think I ever had in my life.

The people who read my crazy ramblings "get" me.

There aren't any fake smiles with blank eyes. Smug looks meant to say "she is such a loser" There aren't the people who claim to be here for you only to be the first to gossip.

But the one thing I love most about writing is there is an edit button. I can go over my thoughts before letting the world know them. Thus saving me from some pretty embarrassing moments.

Have you ever witnessed someone erupt in a display of verbal sewage?
It's quite a site.

It's like pulling the cork out of a farting elephant's rear. You're not quite sure why you did it, but all of your attempts to correct the situation either leave you stinking so bad even the flies won't touch you, or backpedaling so fast you find yourself in another zip code.

That's perhaps why I've never felt "at home" with any type of women's group. Despite claiming they are here to support and accept you I feel they are a lot of times a front for those who have nothing better to do than label, manipulate or ostracize anyone who isn't part of the "norm." The people who never left high school behind.

One wrong move, one awkward pause after an awkward sentence and the damage is done.

So in the end I DO think the pen is mightier than the sword.
Why? Because while I may in person sounds like Gomer Pyle's "special" cousin, on paper I'm kicking monkey butt and taking names.

On a lighter note, David decided to pursue his dream of becoming the next Picasso/Miami Ink protegee.

Luckily it wasn't permanent.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Just a few new pics

Ok so I really don't have a post but since I needed a quick way to show people what David's new socks look like in action I decided to throw them on here.

For a child I can't keep regular socks or slippers on he just loves these. Notice how he's "posing" for the camera.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Moose Musings

Here's another round of stupid thoughts that run through my head.

Strep Throat and air travel don't mix - unless you want to feel like your head is going to pop worse than a zit on Britni Spears bikini line - just don't do it.

How is it that days worth of 2-mile hikes and drinking tons of water makes me gain weight, when mindless junk-food induced eating causes me to lose a few? Maybe I should write a book titled "The iced tea and chocolate covered gummy bears diet - lose 10 pounds in 10 days" Well duh! With that amount of sugar I'd be more wired than a fly drowning in a sea of Red Bull.

Who needs a guard dog when I have the ultimate guard cat.
Kathy Bates character in Misery had nothing on my cat ZZ. I was gone for two weeks and since we've been home, not only does the booger practically try to smother me every second she's sadistically subtle about it.

1. At night she buries her head in the crook of my neck, purring adoringly, only with her little paws on either shoulder- claws out - just barely digging into my skin (Just enough pain to provide a silent warning)

2. If I try to get up and go to the bathroom, she's right there with me, even going as far as getting onto my lap while I'm attempting to do my business. I don't pee well with an audience, especially one that meows during the entire production.

3. If I'm walking down the stairs she's right at my heels. I secretly think she's trying to trip me as payback for being gone so long.

4. A stranger comes to the door she's growling, fur on end before they even reach the front steps

5. If I try to type of check my e-mail she gets either on the keyboard so I can't type. In my face so I can't see or lays on my hand and then gets in my face so I can't do either.

If I go missing interrogate the cat.

Somehow my son had developed more fashion sense than Paris Hilton in a dark closet.
Not only is he obsessed with picking out his own shoes and clothes, half the time he ends up resembling a color-blind Picasso. It sure doesn't match but hey it works right? Or at least that's what I tell myself amid the odd looks.

When I die forget burying me in a coffin. Just wrap me up mummy style in all the yarn I own. Now wouldn't that be a site? Not only would I be recycling but let's face it..... I'm Sicilian and married to a Jew...... CHEAP

Sometimes the best products come from the oddest color choices. The picture I've included is the pair of socks I made for my sister-in-law Tara. She picked this wacky colorway of a nice wool sock yarn from Germany. The company dyes its yarn based on the color patterns of famous painters. This one was an abstract artist. Looking at the skein wound you would never have known they'd much such fun socks.

The other is of my little guy sitting on my parents front porch in the foothills of Amador County. He's watching a group of deer eat on the front lawn as well as a pack of wild turkeys.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

When all you can do is wait

Last night was one of the most frustrating and worrisome experiences of my life.

We spent nearly 4 hours in a small ER in a small hospital in a small town on one of the busiest weekends of the year.

I'm not sure what it is about the 4th of July but it tends to bring out the people who don't know their brain from their bum. Independance Day does not mean "act like a moron and expect people to understand you were 'just having fun'"

At 3 a.m. July 5 David woke up screaming and crying. He was warm with a slight temperature. We've been here before and so we gave a bit of tylenol and he went back to sleep.

However, throughout the day his temperature never broke. Instead it just rose. He was hotter than Angelina Jolie in a string bikini (or so my husband says) and very lethargic.

At 9 p.m. his temperature was over 101. It was at that point we realized that a "Trip to Tylenol Land" was not going to help this situation.

It took nearly a half hour to reach the ER and it was a zoo. The tiny room was packed with what looked like the remnants (and I apologize for writing this) of a home-tattoo and dentistry convention.

The poor nurse behind the desk was appreciative of three things when I approached her to sign in.

1. Even though I was out of state I had been there before, thus making the admittance process easier, including having all my insurance info just in case.
2. I spoke english not profanity
3. Though I was worried I was kind and respectful, knowing that me acting like I had a bug up my ass would no sooner get my son help then if he had the bug up his ass himself.

While we waited here is what we witnessed.

A very dirty, very young couple with a a one year old girl dressed in just a dirty diaper and no clothes. The dad was drunk and the girlfriend started yelling at him to just go sit in the "f-ing" car. The girl's mom was no better since she managed to have enough forethought to pack 6 cans of soda in her purse and a pack of cigarettes but not bring any diapers or clothes for the little one. It made my heart hurt for that little girl as her mom just sat there shoving magazines at her daughter in an attempt to not deal with her.

There was the group of dumb teen and twenty-somthings who thought it was an amazing idea to drink and then go "cliff diving" in the dark. How the heck were they to know there were rocks down there?

The young teenaged girl (and I feel horrible for her), who was with her father and sister at a remote campsite for a bbq. She bent down to pet the pitbull someone had brought and it proceeded to rip a huge chunk out of her upper lip and chin.
Not only did it take them an hour to reach the ER but unfortunatly, because of how slammed they were she was also not high on the priority list.
To watch her sit there for three hours with an icepack to her face, tears in her eyes was heartbreaking.

I do have to give credit to her father for his quick thinking as well as cool head. As his daughter apologized to him he said with tears in his eyes "This is not the time to be sorry. That's not important. What's important is making sure you are ok."

There was the teenager who was so hungover she needed an IV, the twenty-something who as she walked out of the ER, bragging about how she convinced them to give her pain meds, which she only wanted for a high. Her friend then shouted "awesome whoo hoo as she lit up a cigarette before they even made it out the door."

The pregnant teen wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt saying "I'm not fat, just knocked up."

Do I need to go on?

I never realized how much a trip to the ER can really open your eyes to what's going on around you. We too often tend to gloss over the things we don't understand or don't want to see. We don't want to acknowledge the poverty, the ill education, the heartbreak around us. But when you are in a situation where all you can do is wait... and wait.. and wait. It makes you really look around you and pay attention.

Finally we eventually were called back to an exam room where we discovered David's temp had skyrocketed to 104. A huge dose of Motrin helped bring it down, but we were still left waiting in the room for over an hour.

In the meantime they had placed this contraption over his wee-wee to get a urine sample. It hurt me and I don't even have the same plumbing.

When he finally did go pee and the nurse ripped the thing (which was adhered to his beans and the area just below his belly button) off, I thought my husband was going to pass out. Thankfully David took it like a champ.

As were waiting we heard a horrible retching noise coming from the next room. A nurse started yelling to a doctor...."Room 4 is vomiting uncontrollably." only for the doc to yell back "So.... turn her on her side. What do you want from me?"

Lo and behold he said his as he was walking into OUR room.

He took one look at David, said "it's probably viral but I guess I can check his ears."

What do you know he had an ear infection.

The doc then said he doesn't understand why parents bring thier kids in for stuff like this. He had three of his own and if they get like that he doesn't even take thier temp he instead "gives them a trip to Tylenol Land."

He then wrote a prescription for an antibiotic and before we were even out of the exam room they were arguing over who they would shove in behind us.

It was one of the oddest moments of my life.

David still had a temp this morning but after taking a dose of his medicine - which I can only akin to being somewhat similar to wrestling a spitting, greased pig - is feeling better.

Thank God.

Friday, July 4, 2008

When life hands you stress....make socks!

Every since I discovered you can crochet socks I've become that lady.

You know the one you see either on the bus, the subway, the local little league game...driving down the road....holding knitting needles with a ball of yarn trailing behind her.

I'm hooked literally on this new discovery and I can't stop.

If I didn't have enough other types of yarn already I am now collecting sock yarn faster than my belly button collects lint.

Luckily, my family and friends aren't annoyed with this latest obsession. Instead, they love it. Because instead of the boring socks everyone hates getting for Christmas, these socks are what my sister-in-law Tara deemed "funky and fun."

It's amazing how many textures, colors and color combos true sock yarn comes in. My friend Kim received a pair featuring calming shades of greens and browns. My friend Beth picked out some funky yarns in bright hues of orange, green and blue complete with odd squiggly appendages woven into the yarn.

I just completed a pair for my mom that she is in love with. Bright pinks with a smattering of white, lavender, light green and yellow adorn these tootsie toasters.

And the list goes on.
I have so many people who have asked me to make them socks I'm not sure when I'm going to have time to make some for me.

Luckily though I still have a sensible (scrooge) side. I realized that I can't afford to "foot" the bill for all of this sock yarn and instead have agreed to make socks in exchange for the purchase of sock yarn.

It's amazing what we yarn-a-holics will do for a little taste of what we like.

It's not going away overnight

One thing I'm realizing with depression is that it's not something that just magically goes away.
You can't just wipe the slate clean or erase the things that hurt you or make you upset.
Though there have been events and people who I have met or encountered in the recent years that have left me bruised and wounded I would never choose to erase these events.
The scarring left behind is part of me. It's who I am. These experiences have become a reminder of what I want and don't want out of life.

I have also realized that I do not want to be someone who blames everyone else for my problems or miserable moods.
Relationships are two-fold.
My inability to handle stress or to stand up for myself have played just as much a part in my recent moods as the people I have failed to defend myself against.

When did I become such a people-pleaser? Why do I care how people view me as a mother - a friend? When did I become a giver and never a taker?

If you give everything away without taking anything in return eventually you have nothing.

In reality the only person who really matters in terms of me caring what they think is my son.
If he grows up to be a well-adjusted respectful adult, who knows he is loved unconditionally by his parents, then I have done my job.

There are going to be mistakes made along the way. I'm not going to do everything by the book and I don't care if you think my child is a bully or a baby.
So what if you do things this way or that. Who cares if you hover more than a UFO in a cornfield over your child's every move.

I am my child's mother and will do what's best for him.

That includes getting healthy both mentally and physically.

And I'd like to think that by acknowlodging that I need to fix these things in my life, is a HUGE step in the right direction.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Moose Musings

Just random thoughts.....

I can find a yarn store in the middle of nowhere better than a dog can find his own beans. Thank god my sister in law was with me, otherwise I would still be there.

Nothing makes a chubby girl run faster than coming face to face with a coyote at 7 a.m. I think the glare of the morning sun off my white legs scared it off.

The best dog training for a hyperactive terrier is a visit from my son David. Just one hour of my Moose chasing that yapper around the house screaming "PUPPY!!!! PUPPY!!!" was enough to quiet the poor beast for three days. I don't think he crawled out from under the couch the entire time we were there.
Well yeah he did, but as soon as David woke up, he booked it across the house faster than me running after a bag of chocolate covered gummy bears.

David can walk farther than David Carridine's character in Kung Fu. My poor sister-in-law got sucked in by his baby blues and thus got the workout of her life. The image of the two hand in hand walking into the sunset is still fresh in my mind.
Although this sunset wasn't so romantic given it was set against the icky backdrop of Tracy, CA in the summer, rundown houses, cracked sidewalks and dead lawns.


Two 20 oz Creme' Brulee iced lattes in the span of 4 hours is NOT a good idea.

How is it that my son can sleep like the dead while visiting relatives, but wake up 10 times a night at home?

If the Binky Shotput was an event at the Olympics David would hold the world record. I must take this time to apologize to the poor man on the other side of the coffee shop who received a Bink to the back of the head during one of David's "episodes"

Lastly, getting away does wonders for helping you realize just who you want in your life and who you can live without. Amazing.