Monthly Archives: January 2010

Pollyanna, Fabric Addict

Lyda here. Do y’all think I have a problem?

This weekend I found a fabric sale at a discount fabric store. They had discontinued fabric samples on sale – one dollar per grocery-store-sized bags.

I bought eleven bags.

Plus the stack of fabrics that I had already had cut which I’d found in another part of the store – 100% cotton on sale for $1 to $2 per yard.

And a quarter yard of $3/yard fabric for my word quilt project.

And another quarter yard from another bolt of $3/yard, because I liked it.

Yes, of course I already have a lot of fabric. What’s your point?

I opened about half of the fabric grab bags last night. The bags were clear plastic so I had a tantalizing glimpse of the contents while they were closed. But each bag contained lots of surprises. Most of the fabrics are drapery and upholstery fabrics, with silk embroidery or tucking or other embellishments. The fabrics vary from the tissue-thin to very thick. There are lots of colors and weird shaped pieces.

These are going to be great in crazy quilts and other projects.

I had a fun night, watching a chick flick – Alex and Emma, which I hadn’t seen before; it was just right for my mood – and playing with my new treasures. Guess what I’m going to do again tonight?

Yup. Only the movie will change.

Good stuff, Maynerd.

The only problem is that I know the store has a lot more dollar bags…

Danger, Pollyanna, danger!

My name is Lyda, and I’m a fabric addict.

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Pollyanna: Have Shovel, Will Splatter

Lyda here. It’s been weeks since I killed a zombie, vanquished an evil king, or defeated an alien horde. Life without video games is weird, but not as weird as life with the Sith Master living in different quarters.

So, I thought, gee, why don’t I knit something?

And the heavens rumbled.

And lo, there came upon her a great smiting.

In other words, my fibromyalgia has flared up and I can’t hold the needles for any length of time.

Poot.

I knit this weekend anyway. So there. I used the biggest needles I have (size 10) and a half skein of chunky yarn left over from the last scarf, and I just did a bit at a time. I just needed the feel of fiber in my hands. Y’all know.

What I need to knit is a huge blanket. The Disney House is charming and has many advantages – but heat isn’t one of them. My friends the Disney couple like the brisk arctic air blowing through the condo. Reminds them of their trips to Russia and Alaska and New York City, no doubt.

Okay, it’s not as cold as Ohio, or Colorado. But it’s been very rainy and windy here, and colder than usual. The mountains are covered in snow. There has been hail, people!

I’m sleeping with a blanket, a comforter, and the extra-thick quilt my grandmother made me – which I usually only use when I’m sick, as it is very heavy and very warm.

Grandma didn’t think it counted as a quilt unless you could barely move once it was on top of you. Maybe it was her way of making sure the children stayed in bed at night. But probably it was because she lived where it got very cold at night. Grandma was a busy woman, and she didn’t have time to chip ice off people’s feet in the mornings.

But I digress.

And I’m still cold for the first fifteen minutes in bed, until my igloo of fiber warms up. Fiber igloo!

I’m still not sleeping well – a combination of stress, new surroundings, and the fibromyalgia. And my right knee has decided to complain constantly. Rather like me, it appears. I’ve been putting it off, but I’m going to have to go to the doctor and find out if the constant nasty knee pain is part of the fibro or if it is something else. It seems more like arthritis – stiff after being still for a time, creaky (literally), and right in the joint. I have arthritis in my feet, and it looks like my knee has decided to jump on the bandwagon.

Or rather, crawl arthritically on the bandwagon.

Oh, I’m digressing again…

Compared to all this, fighting off a zombie invasion would be child’s play.

I miss my child’s play. I miss my child.

It is a weird time for me right now. I am so grateful, really I am. I have a job and a roof over my head. My son is safe and happy. I know I could be so much worse off. I know that so many people are suffering horribly, all over the world. I feel terribly guilty for complaining.

Not that the guilt stops me, as y’all have noticed.

Yet I am in a weird state, and I’m not fooling anyone pretending that I’m not. I am grieving the loss of living with my son, with my cats, in my own home. And I hate imposing on my friends. I hate that I have brought this on myself.

And on you, dear readers, who have to plow through all this whining drivel to get to the zombies.

Everyone keeps asking if I’m okay because there are circles under my eyes the size of a bull moose (I’m estimating here, people) and I’m limping like Chester and I’m thinking like Festus and I’m typing like a stunned turtle…

It gets me down.

Thankfully, I can read in my little igloo – I’m re-reading all the Harry Potters; I’m almost done with the fifth book – and I can watch movies in my room, and watch the TV in the living room. My friends are great, and they have a springer spaniel who keeps me covered in dog hair and makes sure my knees are never dry. Dry knees are apparently bad. Who knew? Fortunately Disney Dog has lots of drool to share.

And on Thursday, I’m taking the day off to move the rest of my stuff into the condo and to get actually settled. Except the stuff I’m donating – my couch and all of the kitchen stuff – and the fridge. Anyone need a refrigerator? I’m determined to have all my stuff out of storage by the end of the month, as I don’t want to pay for the unit for another month.

Most importantly, I am spending time with the Sith Master every weekend. Last Sunday we went to lunch and just sat there and talked for hours. It was bliss. He is doing well at his dad’s, and the three of us even had a good long chat yesterday.

During the week, I just keep plugging along.

And just like Scarlett, I can remind myself that tomorrow is another day. Bwahaha. I love Carol Burnett!

Somewhere over the rainbow… Sniff. I love Judy too!

The sun will come out… Heh. Funny.

Yeah.

Anybody want to hunt zombies with me? Anybody? Bueller?

Pollyanna Lights Up

Anna-Liza here … it’s been a rough week. Nothing bad, just a lot of little, annoying, stressful stuff. Without apparent end. A decent weekend will see me right. And what better to start off the weekend than with some lightbulb jokes?

How many folk singers does it take to change a light bulb? Only one, but you need three more to sing about how great the last one was.

For Knitting Sprite: How many hipsters does it take to change a light bulb? It’s a really obscure number, you’ve probably never heard of it.

For Lyda, a series:

How many Romulans does it take to change a light bulb? There are several answers:

  1. 151 – one to change it and 150 to self-destruct the ship for the disgrace.
  2. Two – one to change it and another to kill him and take the credit.
  3. Three – one to change it and two to guard him to keep the Federation from stealing the secret.

And for Lyda, take two:

How many Klingons does it take to change a light bulb?

  1. Burned out light bulbs have NO honour and a true Klingon Warrior is not afraid of the dark!
  2. None, they need a Cardassian to figure it out for them.
  3. None. Klingons can fight in the dark

And what happened to the Klingon who did change the light bulb? He was executed for cowardice.

How many Cancerians does it take to change a lightbulb? (This would be me)

  1. Just one. But it takes a therapist three years to help them through the grief process.
  2. Just one, and they’ll use a non-disposable diaper too!

How many Capricorns does it take to change a lightbulb? (Lyda)

  1. None. Capricorns can’t afford new lightbulbs — unless they’re a legitimate business expense.
  2. I don’t waste my time with these childish jokes.
  3. None: Why should I bother? It’s probably just going to burn out again tomorrow anyway.

How many Sagittarians does it take to change a lightbulb? (Darlin’ K)

  1. Look, ask me when I get back from India, okay?
  2. The sun is shining, the day is young, we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, and you’re inside worrying about a stupid burned out light bulb?
  3. A whole bunch: I can only keep them in the room long enough for them to give the bulb a quarter turn apiece.

And to go with what I was thinking about a large portion of humanity this week …

How many wizards does it take to change a light bulb?

It depends on what you want it changed into…

Pollyanna Salutes MLK

Anna-Liza here. There really isn’t anything anyone can add to the man’s own words, and how he lived.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies
hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction….The chain reaction
of evil–hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars–must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of
annihilation.

Martin Luther King, Jr., Strength To Love, 1963

Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice. Justice at its best is love correcting everything that stands against
love.

Martin Luther King, Jr., Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community?, 1967

Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted.

Martin Luther King, Jr., Strength to Love, 1963

(Quotes found here).

My wish for 2010 and the next decade is that we start to listen to him as much as we say we honor him. (I wish the same for Jesus).

Pollyanna’s Gonna Make a Lot of Bread

Hey, Anna-Liza here. I recently acquired a slightly used bread machine from Craigslist, and made my first loaf with it today. Which is already almost gone. W00t!!

To back up a bit, South African Knitting Buddy (hereafter known as SAKB) is a really good cook, and I especially admire her baking. In addition, she has superhero budgeting powers, and feeds her family of four (well) on a budget of $50/week.

I know.

Now, we’ve talked about how she does it, and a large part of it is her absolute lack of reliance on convenience foods. She makes almost everything herself. Okay, I think she probaby buys canned tomato sauce (on sale, of course), but she makes all their spaghetti sauce, salsa, stuff like that from scratch. And bread. BTW, I am not the only one asking her to blog about how she does this. She just says “But it’s SO BORING!” If you don’t agree and want her to blog, too, let me know.

Now we both agree that it’s not likely I’ll be able to go quite as far as she does with the “no convenience foods” lifestyle, but there are some things I can definitely do. No matter how tight our food budget has gotten, I’ve always bought good bread. I don’t want my kids to get addicted to the pasty cheap kind. Unfortunately, the kind of bread I like is $4.50 or more a loaf – usually about a one-and-a-half pound loaf, but still. And SAKB says she makes all their bread – just as nummy and healthy as what I buy – for about $1/loaf.

Geeminy Christmas. And I used to bake my own bread … back before kids. And I was good at it. But as enjoyable and satisfying as making bread by hand was, the reason I gave it up was because it was so very time-consuming. Hence the bread machine, which SAKB says she couldn’t do without for making bread on the scale that she does.

I think I’m going to have to wean myself and my family off convenience foods gradually, a few items at a time. Bread seems like a really good place to start, since with a machine all it takes is remembering to put the ingredients in the machine and set the timer. Sort of a convenience food after all, only better.

So I mentioned to Knitting Sprite (chatting on Facebook) that I wanted to find a good bread machine, used and reasonably cheap. And she immediately responded with a link to a Craigslist ad, for a used machine for sale in my own town – turns out, only a few blocks from home. Clever Sprite.

I brought it home the next day. It’s an Oster model 5839, makes up to a 2-lb loaf. Also makes dough for stuff like pizza crust , which I plan to try. I set it up last night to have fresh bread this morning, and it worked perfectly. I awoke to the aroma of bread baking, and the loaf was done at 8:30. I made a hearty multigrain whole wheat bread, and it came out perfect. And, as I mentioned, the whole 2 lb loaf is almost gone. In fact, as soon as I post this I’m going to go make another one, and I plan chicken stew to go with it for dinner.

Nom.

Once I have the bread-making rhythm down, I’ll add making my own spaghetti sauce. Another thing I used to do and was good at and gave up. What was I thinking?

Pollyanna Chases the Pig

Here piggy piggy. Time for your licking.

That sounds either kinky or violent. Or maybe both, which would be really kinky. Or is that just me?

Maybe to you it sounds like a drug reference. “Hey, buddy, wanna chase the pig?”

Kids, just say “no” to chasing the pig.

Anyway, quickly moving on…

To paraphrase (very loosely) The Thing, “It’s pig-lickin’ time!”

Ah, the Fantastic Four: Mister Fantastic, the Thing, the Human Torch and… the Invisible Girl. As if women weren’t invisible enough in 1961. And she doesn’t even get to be the Invisible Woman. Yeah. She got rooked.

She was always too goody-two-shoes for me anyway. Give me Wonder Woman any day. Or – dare I say? – Cat Woman. Don’t we all kind of wish we were Cat Woman?

Did I ever tell y’all that I did a paper and a presentation on superheroes and supervillains for my master of psychology class? Interesting stuff… Man, I miss school. Yes, I am that weirdo. I actually want to go back to school.

Wow. Comic geek and school nerd. Following the kinky innuendo and the drug references.

Can y’all believe I’m single??

But I digress…

Okay, other pig licking news:

Sadness. Marin lost three years of comments. Go visit your AntiM and leave her a bunch of new comments, y’all.

After that, cruise on over to The Panopticon where Franklin will frighten you, and cheer you in turns.

Pollyanna Learns Something New Every Day

Hey, Anna-Liza here.

Do you know the Australian slang term for a Speedo? “Budgie smuggler”. 

Did you know that eating pineapple is supposed to help induce labor?

I’m sure you’ve heard by now that the popular opinion of the logo for the 2012 London Olympics is that it looks like Lisa Simpson performing fellatio. The fact that the male partner is apparently headless makes it even creepier. Some say it’s Bart, but how can you tell?

My Canadian knitting buddy tells me that Canadians enjoy the doggie-style position because that way both partners can watch the hockey game.

My South African knitting buddy tells me the same is true of South Africans, except it’s rugby.

I told them that Southern Baptists don’t like doing it standing up because someone might think they were dancing.

I have to say, one of my favorite things about knit night, blogging, Twitter and Facebook is the amazing level of cultural exchange and the general broadening of knowledge they bring. *happy sigh*