All My Friends Are the Bull-Riders

"If you ever start feeling like you have the goofiest, craziest, most dysfunctional family in the world, all you have to do is go to a state fair. Because five minutes at the fair, you'll be going, 'you know, we're alright. We are dang near royalty.'" Jeff Foxworthy

Successful knitting has occurred! I actually DID finish my Mystery Dishcloth in time with the group, and here is the shot:



Supposedly, it's a cat.

Also, thoroughly enjoying those gloves from Knitty. This is my first time trying cables and it's going awfully well, I think (until I see Knitty Yoda and she makes that kindly face and points out what I've done isn't cabling, there isn't even a name for it in knitting, and the only solution is a little thing we like to call frogging. And then Miz Knotty, shaking quietly with laughter I think, pats me on the back).

Made a strange Knitting Discovery on Wednesday, after spending the day at a hospital while my friend had "a procedure" (which I believe is the new P.C. lingo for "scary-as-all-get-out surgery"). First, she is FINE, ya'll, she is JUST FINE and we are all thrilled to pieces and I will probably sound extra-Southern in talking about her because I get Southern when I'm emotional and she is one of my favorite, full-stop. She's not blood, but she's like family, and she's good people, the best people, and I think anyone born south of the Mason-Dixon line knows exactly what I am talking about. Showing her roots, the best moment of the day occurred when ANOTHER nurse came in to tell Betsy her procedure had been pushed back ANOTHER 30 minutes and for a moment we all thought Betsy might rise from the bed, disregarding IVs, and heart monitors and the loopy drugs they had her on, and start snatchin' people bald-headed. It did not happen, but if they'd messed with her one more time, I'm certain she would have started channeling Scarlett and had a come-to-Jesus with many hospital staff that day.

Point is, while we waited at the hospital, I realized it is now nearly impossible for me to sit still empty-handed. I did my swatch to check my gauge for those fingerless gloves (Knitty Yoda is wiping away tears of pride) and that took about an hour, with me knitting and talking, and unraveling and starting over until I got it. And then I had- nothing. I didn't Knit-Plan the night before, because if I had I would have frogged the whole HP scarf and started that over. I couldn't start the gloves because I didn't want to play about with the cables yet and I couldn't work on the Mystery Dishcloth because I didn't have the day's directions and so- I got some cotton yarn and a pair of size eight Clovers and started doing the border to a dishcloth I've not tried yet. I didn't plan to finish it, I just needed to work on something.

I think I've officially crossed over to the otherside.

On to Off the Needles News.

So for those of you who wanted to see the pics (and I must say- for my little site- even if Knitty Yoda voted twice- that was quite a turn-out!) I'm posting them below. HOWEVER. They are not, exactly, as funny as first advertised. Since Ansel wasn't behind the camera but on the bull that left the photo-taking to someone else. So. In my mind, when I snapped the shot, you could Clearly see the bull. Of course, at the time my mind was a bit turned around from a Kendall/Jager/Bud combination.* While, to me, there is a big, crazed mechanical creature under The Hubba, to you, it might look like a very sad man having a very good time waving his arms around in the air and laughing, while waiting for some kindly orderlies to come put him back in his open-back gown and lead him to a nice game of shuffleboard. Trust me, there's a big fake bull under him.






That last shot, I was clearly compelled to get of him having been thrown off the bull and laying on the squishy mat. Can't explain it, ya'll, again I refer you to the Kendall/Jager/Bud combination.* Still. Doesn't he look happy? Even if it did last only four or so seconds and he limped for two days straight after.

*Must interject, I am STILL talking about the same night. I swear. The Hubba and I aren't actually raging alcoholics, this was STILL his 30th birthday evening. I realize some poor person will randomly get on this blog a few times, catch this series of posts, and say snidely to himself/herself, "Maybe she should call it 'Neighbordrinker', hahaha. Or 'I'll-soon-be-in-private-meetings-Knitter' yukyukyuk." I understand where this comes from, when I still worked in restaurants, I caught the tale-end of a story where the guy said "And then I woke up in my car" and then I heard him tell it twice more in the next two days. He tried to convince me it was the same night, but it didn't matter, from then on, to me, he was always, "Adam-and-then-I-woke-up-in-my-car." Anyway. Same night, folks.