The downfall of handpainted, handspun yarn

is, simply, that once it's gone, it's gone. I bought one skein in NYC at the Greenmarket, and thought I could get a shrug out of it ... no, no. Well, let it be a hat instead. Maybe mittens. It's an appropriately wintry blue.

Obligatory news-related thing: the Kirkwood, MO shootings happened in the suburb next to my hometown, and one of the victims was a friend of my family's. We attended church in Kirkwood when I was growing up. Insane. Insane insane. That family ... they had two sons, and one of them committed suicide a few years ago. Suicide and murder both. I know this happens in more families than I can imagine. I know. I want to be knowing that all the time, not just be shocked by it when the names involved trigger my memory.

Work is swamping me. Beyond swamping, really; it was swamping two weeks ago, and now it's just beyond swamp. Beyond bayou. We're at sea, people. Under it, even. Deadlines are now irrelevant, because it all should be done already -- like weeks ago already. I am not slow; I am not lazy. I am simply swamped.

Today I made a list that I could have titled "things I need to do tonight so that I survive the next week." Let's call it that:

1.) laundry
2.) handwashing laundry, too
3.) dust and vacuum, or else face the wrath of the allergies
4.) groceries, I guess
5.) more freelance work
6.) sleep already

Wow. That good.

It got a little bit better.

A day for grunge

Or at least post-grunge, pirate-inspired fashion and music.

It is actually that bad.

The world has turned and left me here
Just where I was before you appeared
And in your place, an empty space
Has filled the void behind my face

Do you believe what I sing now?
Do you believe what I sing now?
Do you believe?

You know, I just want things to untangle a bit. Just let this one thing happen over here, and something else just delay, and not need to do them all and deal with them all and feel them all (most obnoxious) at once.

I did one of those wake up in the night dripping with sweat things again. No excuse for being overheated this time either -- cold room and few blankets.

How, friends, do you self-soothe? And how do you do it when you have 7 more hours of work, and then more this weekend?

My first idea is knitting and watching BSG again. And chocolate. And sleep.

In which she freaks out about snowfall

Maybe rapid snowfall is scary to me right now because

1.) I have a window that makes it easy to watch; an inch on cars in the last half-hour ...
2.) I wore my highest-heeled boots today for no good reason
3.) I did not wear a hat today
4.) climate change is always scary.

If I see a zombie bite you, I will shoot you in the head

My dad and I have been emailing this morning. Read on, read on.

MY DAD: We are fine...real foggy here this morning. I was in Danville IL on Friday...quick late trip for a demo...cold flat gray and desolate...reminded me of Fargo. If zombies ever live in rural Illinois...it might be there...so watch the eastern front and keep your powder dry.

ME: We're super-foggy too -- 1/4 mile visibility, and still people drive without their headlights on. My officemate Kyle was saying just this morning that it's zombie weather, and how he wished he had a shotgun, especially since we're in the corner on the second floor and have a good defensive position ... Made me think of you, as most apocalypses do.

MY DAD: For defensive use against zombies, a shotgun works well, but the concern is ammo capacity vs. number of zombies. A good 12 gauge pump with an 8 round extended magazine is a good choice. I would also recomend an AK-47 with several 30 round magazines.

Bottom line...any weapon beats no weapon, especially against zombies.

Be Prepared, my daughter, that's my motto.

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Of course, I don't yet own a handgun, but I can change that within the week, and yes, this is what fog does to me and my family. Actually we have a natural attraction to apocalypses and rusty metal. My mom is fond of saying "When the revolution comes, you'll be glad your dad is a land surveyor, because people will always be trading land."

So he has job security. Too bad I won't. I guess I could knit people post-apocalyptic sweaters, socks, fingerless mitts.

Maybe I'll name my fiber company "Post-Apocalyptic Necessities." Doesn't sound as good as "The Dead Potato," though, does it?

Naming a Yarn Company

Is it that hard?

Do over half of the names of fiber companies REALLY have to feature a pun on the word "dye" or "ewe"? A short survey on ravelry.com says yes, indeed.

And no, mine doesn't have a name or exist yet, but just to show them all, watch me name it Concrete Mixer Fluffy Stuff. Or YARN. Or The Dead Potato.

Maybe I will accept constructive criticism on this, when the time comes nigh.

Someday soon, I shall display some knitted lovelies, and a pattern I made out of several patterns and also my brain.

I also hope to, someday soon, stop feeling like crap. Green tea with honey, naps, and a great Noah all help to that end.

My latest obsession: what to wear to upcoming weddings. I have no funds to fuel this, but lots of wardrobe, and stashed yarn to make into lovely accessories. Brown and red, it's all about brown and red. For sure. And Rowan Kidsilk Haze, a mohair/silk blend.