Now with 25% more randomness!
Hi! How are you? I am going slowly crazy!
The landscaping is healing from its encounter with Mister Backhoe. Our crabapple tree decided that it's going to bloom after all, now that the snow is gone. It's going to be SOOOO pretty. That tree and the weeping cherry tree that was a birthday gift are the only two bits of landscaping I'm going to miss when we leave this house. When we bought it, very little of the house was visible from the road. The first weekend we lived here my parents brought their his and hers chainsaws and we all got very busy uncovering the house. Unfortunately this revealed that the paint was coming off the shakes in sheets. We spent an entire summer scraping, priming, and painting the house since it was cheaper than new siding, and I ended up liking the charm of the old shakes well enough that we never sided. Sometimes I'm afraid that our (my) color choice is putting off potential buyers. The house is grey with purple trim. In certain lighting it has a tendency to look lavender all over.
I learned I hate painting and swore I wouldn't buy another house until I could afford to pay someone else to paint it. The new house needs painting, and I've yet to hit (or even play) the lottery. Good thing we saved the brushes.
The new house is 3.9 miles north of our current house. Ironically the sellers are considering a house down the street from us.* I love our neighborhood, but most of the houses here are the same size as the one we're in (or they cost 6 times more than ours - it's an odd neighborhood). This means that in order to continue throw rocks at Shaler, we'll need one heck of a potato gun. Even though we are not switching townships, our township has requested our names, social security numbers, and employers' information for taxation purposes. The fact that they already have this information does not matter. Mmmm, bureaucracy.
*May it please the gods of housing that the sellers might find alternate lodging so that we might take occupancy of the house we are attempting to purchase, and may the powers that be grant unto us a person or persons who wishes to buy an odd but cute not really lavender cape cod with all possible haste, or at the very least before May 7th. Amen.
I'm knitting a sock! I'm afraid I'm going to run out of yarn. This is why top down socks irritate me. It's making me not want to finish the sock, even though I'm not sure I'll run out. I can rip back past the heel and take one lace repeat out of the cuff (they're plenty long), but that makes me just a little mad. Every few rounds I keep squeezing the remaining yarn as if that will tell me if I'm going to make it to the toe.
At the Pittsburgh Knit and Crochet festival I picked up enough pretty variegated Brooks Farm yarn to knit a lace pullover I had fallen in love with. The pattern is Louisa Harding's Mandolin. I had seen a shop model of the sweater and fallen in love with it. It was done in two different variegated yarns that were a little rich for my blood. I thought I could sub the Brooks Farms yarn, but after knitting up one sleeve I realize that it's just not going to work. A new sweater is marinating in my head, one of my own design, but I haven't the mental energy to actually swatch, do math, and start it just yet.
I've got some rayon ribbon yarn from last year that needs to be knit in to something summery and shapely, but again that involves math and thinking and swatching even if I do find a pattern (and I've got a couple in mind) Right now what I need is mindless. Good old mind-numbing non-frustrating un-house-related knitting.
Or lots of liquor.
The landscaping is healing from its encounter with Mister Backhoe. Our crabapple tree decided that it's going to bloom after all, now that the snow is gone. It's going to be SOOOO pretty. That tree and the weeping cherry tree that was a birthday gift are the only two bits of landscaping I'm going to miss when we leave this house. When we bought it, very little of the house was visible from the road. The first weekend we lived here my parents brought their his and hers chainsaws and we all got very busy uncovering the house. Unfortunately this revealed that the paint was coming off the shakes in sheets. We spent an entire summer scraping, priming, and painting the house since it was cheaper than new siding, and I ended up liking the charm of the old shakes well enough that we never sided. Sometimes I'm afraid that our (my) color choice is putting off potential buyers. The house is grey with purple trim. In certain lighting it has a tendency to look lavender all over.
I learned I hate painting and swore I wouldn't buy another house until I could afford to pay someone else to paint it. The new house needs painting, and I've yet to hit (or even play) the lottery. Good thing we saved the brushes.
The new house is 3.9 miles north of our current house. Ironically the sellers are considering a house down the street from us.* I love our neighborhood, but most of the houses here are the same size as the one we're in (or they cost 6 times more than ours - it's an odd neighborhood). This means that in order to continue throw rocks at Shaler, we'll need one heck of a potato gun. Even though we are not switching townships, our township has requested our names, social security numbers, and employers' information for taxation purposes. The fact that they already have this information does not matter. Mmmm, bureaucracy.
*May it please the gods of housing that the sellers might find alternate lodging so that we might take occupancy of the house we are attempting to purchase, and may the powers that be grant unto us a person or persons who wishes to buy an odd but cute not really lavender cape cod with all possible haste, or at the very least before May 7th. Amen.
I'm knitting a sock! I'm afraid I'm going to run out of yarn. This is why top down socks irritate me. It's making me not want to finish the sock, even though I'm not sure I'll run out. I can rip back past the heel and take one lace repeat out of the cuff (they're plenty long), but that makes me just a little mad. Every few rounds I keep squeezing the remaining yarn as if that will tell me if I'm going to make it to the toe.
At the Pittsburgh Knit and Crochet festival I picked up enough pretty variegated Brooks Farm yarn to knit a lace pullover I had fallen in love with. The pattern is Louisa Harding's Mandolin. I had seen a shop model of the sweater and fallen in love with it. It was done in two different variegated yarns that were a little rich for my blood. I thought I could sub the Brooks Farms yarn, but after knitting up one sleeve I realize that it's just not going to work. A new sweater is marinating in my head, one of my own design, but I haven't the mental energy to actually swatch, do math, and start it just yet.
I've got some rayon ribbon yarn from last year that needs to be knit in to something summery and shapely, but again that involves math and thinking and swatching even if I do find a pattern (and I've got a couple in mind) Right now what I need is mindless. Good old mind-numbing non-frustrating un-house-related knitting.
Or lots of liquor.
