On a completely unrelated topic I'd like to share something I've been thinking about for some time, the different way we knit. Continental, English, Combined, really it all is irrelevant in the end (barring what some people consider mistakes such as twisted stitches).

With that in mind I'd like to share some video clips of different knitters.

I'll go first. My knitting style was heavily influenced by Susan Gordon Lydon, and technique by EZ. I knit very loosely, usually requiring three or more needle sizes below the recommendation.

I loop the yarn over the needle for stitches rather than making an exaggerated throwing motion. Overall I try to minimize my movements as much as possible.

Next up is my blogless college friend, Cathy. She is a leftie and knits from the right needle to the left instead of the usual left to right. I'm fascinated and curious to see how her style will develop as she continues on her knitting journey.

Irish College Knitting is in the clip below, it's a fairly famous clip of the Yarn Harlot herself, and I find myself mesmerized by her knitting and that she can knit with a crowd around her.

It's said that the cottage knitting was developed by people who knit for their livelhood, and based on the knitting speed Stephanie employs I believe it.

And finally just for fun here's a clip of a Knitting Speed Contest.

These knitters don't mess around.

Rosewood Needles and 1,400 square feet of new (Rosewood) floor

Ikea Yarn Organization

Sohot Sahara

Tomato Babies

In my desperation for material I used my child to snap a photo of a man strapping 25 pounds (?!) of carrots to his bike.

He had &*%$ing resusable grocery bags too.

Having been suitably reprimanded by fate I decided to stay at home the rest of the week by the pool, where no Hummers (or Priuses) crossed my path.

Exceptionally cute babies who love silly froggy pools helped wipe the recent artistic failure from my mind.

Tune in next week for the adventures of Fickle "We're getting 1,400 square feet of new flooring installed and I haven't packed a thing" Knitter.

It is not however free free. If you'd like to become the proud owner of a shiny pdf of my Follow the Bouncing Ball knitting pattern for the low low price of $4.99 USD, you may click the link here (or on the sidebar).

I will now resume the thesis induced fetal rocking position. Thank you for your support.

Our first find were "Sun-San" sandals, these sandals are so cool! They can go in the ocean and pool. I'd never heard of them until I spoke with a salesman at the shoe shop who informed me the company had been making them for 60 years. Perfect for an afternoon hearkening to time past.

The best part is the shoes have a prehistoric kid proof buckle The second best part is you'll save enough dough for a few skeins of yarn if you normally prefer the robeez and pedipeds of the world.

I spent my savings on the coolest book in the Universe, "Pastimes, Hobbies, and Sports for Girls" by Mabel Kitty Gibbard.

I dated the book based on an illustration of the solar system, without Pluto. And since the book mentions "the War" and Pluto was discovered in 1930, the book must have been written between 1918 and 1930. Maybe as a reflection of the time, or bearing insight to prevailing society, the book does not cater to the lowest common denominator. Instead it encourages the use of hammers, saws, electricity, having wild dingos as pets, and entrepreneurial enterprise such as raising chickens (in your self built hen house).

I've included some photos of the photography box circuit, the Ship drawing with the inscription "A Ship always looks attractive, and may be used on a variety of objects", and my favorite the Hen House--the poultry as a hobby has the most amusing passage:

You will naturally want as simple a design as possible for your pen, because you are sure to build it yourself--all good poultry keepers do that. Of course, you may have neither the time nor the patience to do it; if the latter should be the case, it does not augur well for success with your hobby, and it would be better not to embark upon it.

I love the high expectations of the book. I'd like to see a return of these types of standards for boys, girls, and most importantly, adults. I'll leave the topic with the meager rose trellis the author suggests for construction by the rose enthusiast.

Heh.

Since I had a few pennies left and our banishment from the house wasn't over, I decided to pick up some summer vegetables for our container garden, in the spirit of self sufficiency, enthusiasm, and pastimes for girls.

Upon laying eyes on my hard work, Maya immediately ate dirt (in the spirit of self sufficiency, enthusiasm, and pastimes for girls).

I think Mabel Kitty would be proud.

If you really feel compelled to view my stash, you can do so here. You were warned.

Speaking of warnings you may view the controversial 12th Cylon below. No whining about the surprise being ruined for you though. Put on your big girl pants and suck it up.

I don't know how she managed to tape her toaster on her bike and learn the alphabet AND writing with the sharpie all by herself. She also wants me to tell you her other bike is a Cylon Raider. Personally I think she needs a bit more adult supervision.

We're recovering from a three day whirlwind Southern California tour. We met up with the Perl Goddess Fam (Mr Purl Goddess lent me Snow Crash, the best book I've read in the past decade. Two points, it was so good in part because it was based on a graphic novel, and two how in the world did I miss this novel when in was released in '92? That was the height of my sci fi reading. Ok three points. Now I totally get the steampunk/cyberpunk movement on Boingboing. Maybe the cyberpunks will get on board and mod their useless HD DVD Players for the future).

Back to our trip, we visited with the Perls who were vacationing in San Diego.

Our first stop was Seaworld which I enjoyed very much. Maya in particular enjoyed the whipped cream available for sale.

Watching the Killer Whales was a powerful and awe inspiring experience. I have seen commercials and pictures of performances but being there in the moment was really special. I did not however like the trainers hugging the whales, I felt it was akin to hugging a tiger. Otherwise? An amazing and affecting experience. Also the Atlantis water ride was totally awesome even if Col. Shepherd was no where to be seen.

We stayed the night at the Catamaran Resort which was lovely and beautiful, and reminded me of my honeymoon in Hawaii. (Have I mentioned lately I'd like to go back)? We ate dinner at the Big Kahunas which boats the burger with the same name as seen in Pulp Fiction. Of course I had to eat the burger. I plan on jogging this week, not that it'll help my over consumption, or the fact that I feel like the 50 Foot Woman.

If I were feeling fiesty with my bad 50 foot tall self, I'd most likely attack other people's yarn stashes. Roberta, I'm looking at you.

Finally the capstone on our weekend was seeing the Wiggles in concert!

Maya was beyond herself with excitement as you can see. And by Maya I mean DADDY.

We entertained ourselves pre concert by guessing what the Wiggles contract rider would be. We came up with Rosy Tea, Fruit Salad, Vegetable Soup, Milk, Inflatable Bounce Houses, Feathers for tickling, cricket equipment, and a whole lot of hilarity. Benny Bandicout was there, Katarina, Anthony, Jeff, Sam, Murray, and Captain Feathersword. Mommy and Daddy had a blast and decided it was the best concert we've been to since seeing Nina Simone on '02. And with that I'm off to make empty promises of running 20 miles recover from our vacation. Happy Monday!

Here's an example of my recent return to exercise.
Day One: Enthusiastically get ready for first run since July. Bound out the door and think smugly how I'm not in bad shape since I can jog through my old route with ease. Mark down distance and weight (I know) in a spreadsheet. Have giant piece of cake to celebrate.
Day Two: Meander around house while getting ready for run. Still feeling smug. Take measurements of Postpartum body and mark in spreadsheet. Indulge in french fries and some number of blueberry muffins.
Day Three: Reluctantly drag self out the door, cursing running, spreadsheets and postpartum physiques. Jog very slowly feeling out of breath and old. Remember the good old days of yore and plot more cake induglences in between gasps for air.

The Days of Yore

In my early 20's I practiced Aikido. I've been a member of a few dojos on and off since 1997, taking it up here and there when the inspiration struck. I became interested in Aikido by a requisite phys ed course and watching Seven Samurai and Akira a few too many times. Japanese culture still fascinates me to this day, particularly if some sort of comic book hero is involved. Fueling my Aikido nostalgia is the totally awesome (fan-girl praise also taken from days of yore) book I'm reading, Snow Crash (I mustn't forget my other favorite Comic-Inspired Hero, SuperHiro Nakamura). I love the Author's writing style and amazed by his foresight. It was written in 1992 and does a decent job of forecasting the cultural shift toward the internets, samurai swords aside. (In a whimsically insipid non sequitur confession I'd like to offer up my two week bender of Katamari Damacy The King of All Cosmos is responsible for this digression).

All this exposure started me thinking about the role of Japan in current Knitting Trends. It goes beyond the popular Knitted Kimonos of late. Check out some Information on Japanese ISBN Books. The stitch dictionaries are not the same recycled stitch patterns, there's some brilliant stranded knitting going on, and a resurgence of traditional style arans with some welcome changes. Which brings me to my last point, Habu yarn. After seeing some habu yarn up north I finally get it. The textures and yarn components (stainless steel yarn! And it's soft, totally brilliant. I had no choice but to give it a home) are really beguiling, and perhaps guiding the trends to come. At least I hope so since I don't want to be the only one wearing a stainless steel hand knit gi and wielding samurai swords by myself in the future.

Let's play a little game. Guess which person in this picture noshed on Dog food recently?

In other humbling experiences, I finally decided on the right plugin for comment spam. Being as I have a BS and nearly a Masters in Physics I ASSumed something that sounds so simple and easy like a plugin (Oh! You just PLUG it IN) was well within my range. I've done plenty of programming over the years, survived a year of Ada in college at the mercy of maniacal, powerhungry and vicious compilers while the TA's looked on my compiled humiliation with too much mirth. I've earned my programming badge, you know what I'm saying? So, back to the spam. My first soul crushing experience led to complete and utter failure, try as I might (and try I did for more hours than I care to name) Comment Challenge was not meant to be. But. Akismet worked. And it was much easier to install. The only thing needed after installation is the wordpress API key. Easy Peasy.

While celebrating my conquest over the machines this morning, I looked up at the TV and watched while Knitting was put to music on Higglytown Heroes. And it was done well! The episode is called First Snow; Snow Dazed, it's Higglytown Heroes episode 13 which originally aired 11-11-04.

I'm a grandma who knows how to knit
and make you clothes with a perfect fit
I can make you clothes from head to toe
so you can play out in the snow

Whale or snail or plane or train
I can knit them all the same
I'll knit clothes to keep you warm
Even in a Winter Storm

While I won't comment about where the size of my Sahara fits on the Whale or Plane scale of Postpartum Knits (How many years after Maya's birth will I get to continue blaming stuff on being postpartum??!) I did find the subject manner of the song to be appropriate.

I've had my doubts all along but it really does fit! Now I'm just procrastinating picking up sleeve stitches since I have an unhealthy dislike of set in sleeves.

Since I don't want to be the only ass in this post I decided to share a picture I took while yarn shopping with La on Saturday.

My guess is they parked like this because they have to mete out the gasoline as it's a couple hundred clams a tank these days. I'm thinking of starting a Northern-Hempisphere Only California Association of Stupid Hummers, or NO CASH for short.

We went to the Happiest Place on Earth today to see the grand re-opening of Playhouse Mouse-y. I should amend that statement. We and 10,000 other crazed parents and crying kids went on the off chance that they'd be the first 510 people in line to see the show. Aside: I'm not sure how a wee 15 month old can collapse into a heap more dense than a black hole, making it impossible to pick her up because her octi-limbs also become as slippery as a cuttlefish but she transforms at always just the right moment. And by right moment I mean precisely when I want her to devolve the least. After baking in the sun for 40 minutes and finding that the first show was canceled due to technical difficulties we bagged it and slunk over to Monsters Inc. Maya laughed at the Monsters, which restored my faith in the Walt (and I don't mean Whitman) Industrial Complex.

I've had a few other faith shaking experiences recently, involving crochet (I know!). Specifically I saw some lovely things popping up on various knitting blogs.

In my defense it all started when my Husband suggested I crochet some replacement pot holders since we've worn the ones Great Aunt Ruby gave us to the bare threads. (Eccentric Aunt Ruby is in her 90's, still plays the violin enthusiastically, and crochets the most lovely and efficient pot holders you ever saw). My new intrest was compounded by my indoctrination introduction to Whole Foods. I simply must have hand made produce bags, how else will I fit in with all the other psuedo hippies? PS If you're driving a Hummer in the Whole Foods Parking Lot and taking out shopping carts and the surrounding 5 parking spaces, I'm pretty sure that makes you a giant UN-PC NON HIPPIE. Even if you buy locally grown organic you're still a cephalopod of the highest order.

Restoring faith in Humanity One Blogger at a Time
Annie of the beautifully talented variety sent me the most magnificent package. Really, a photograph doesn't do justice to this mosaic.

The pieces have a real depth to them and gleam just they way they should. Maya will appreciate this addition to her jungle animal collection.

The music she sent soothes me in the car when I want to run over the Hummer drivers who take their kids to the happiest place on earth the same day I do.

Thanks Annie for the thoughtful gift, I love everything!

In other news I've cast on for two sweaters in search of the perfect sweater
The Sahara sweater by Wendy Barnard.

The Icelandic Yoke Sweater by Elizabeth Zimmermann.

I've also purchased the pattern for the Simple Bodice by Stefanie Japel (She's also a Physicst, yo. But I bet she doesn't eat girl scout cookies by the pound).

When I'm done I'll have three beautiful sweaters. One of which will become America's Next Top Sweater for me, Captain Tightpants. Stay tuned, Kittens.

Every man has them. For some it's alcohol, for other's it's gambling, for still others it's ‘roid rage, cyberporn, a predilection for almost-but-not-quite-legal co-eds or, Dog help them, the trannies or congressmen at the local shoe-shuffle airport-bathroom stall.

Those are sissy skeletons, every last one. I've got 'em all beat.

At no small risk to my parental credibility I share mine reluctantly with you here: I am the parent who lets his kid watch children’s TV shows under the veil of developmental benefit when in fact I know darn well it makes a better babysitter than an educator.

You know the type: "Oh, yes, I have the entire L1ttle E1nste1n collection and my child is way more advanced than the white-trash parents next door who let their kids watch TMNJ all day", while neglecting to point out that the kiddie-addiction elements that D1$ney puts into each cartoon are far more alluring than the supposed "educational" ones ("Can you say arabesque?" OF COURSE I CAN’T, JUNE, I'M FIFTEEN F*CKIN' MONTHS OLD!! Oooh, pretty yellow ducky!). Oh, and by the way, the eighteen-month-old across the street who has those not-so-white-trash parents is already speaking in polysyllables and they don't even have a TV. Go figure.

The thing of it is, I promised myself oh, ten, maybe fifteen, years ago that I would never be "that parent". Back then, the kiddie addiction was Barney the Dinosaur, and as an unmarried-but-free-thinking conscientious social semi-liberal individual at the time, I deplored all parenting masquerades of the Heliotropic Upper-Triassic variety. But the Moms and Dads of that time were stupefyingly unrelenting: "Got noisy kids? Pop in a Barney tape and you're good. Plus it teaches really good life lessons like sharing and cleaning your room. I love you, you love me."

Bullpuckey. I didn't buy it then and I don't buy it now. But somewhere along the way to being a parent myself I learned an inconvenient reality. The carpet still needs vacuuming. Mom and Dad still need to shower regularly. The dishes and laundry still need to be washed. Lawn needs mowing. The silly bosses at that job I have still expect me to work eight hours a day. And while split-shifting with the Wife helps us get sleep, it's still not enough to manage the daily routine.

So we have twenty-eight episodes of the Wiggles on the DVR, and when we need that half hour to get something done, we pick one at random and turn it on. We strive to keep the number of daily events down, but it's hard.

While saying this may betray denial of truth in favor of keeping my delusional-but-arguably-slightly-eased conscience intact, the fact is I think the show is quite a bit better than Barney: it has bright primary colors, singing, dancing, giant stuffed animals, the messages are simple and useful without being fluffy, plus it's also sorta entertaining for the parents (if for any reason to see that, yes, it is possible for your child's eyes to lock forward without blinking for a half hour straight). While the pedants out there will argue I could just as easily have been describing either show, it's also evident that there's almost no open criticism of the Wiggles, where Barney is rife with it. (Day of the Barney is well worth the hour or two it takes to read in its entirety).

In fact, the only beef I have with the show (and it's a small one) is that it's "all happy". I think reality for most well-adjusted kids is something closer to one-part trauma, three-parts joy, and arguably the kids might do better in the long run if their TV shows reflected that proportion than what's typically portrayed.

So to help balance the score I present, dear readers, Reality Wiggles, a collection of ditties written to the tune of popular Wiggles songs reflecting the perils of both childhood and parental reality. You're likely to recognize every tune if you and your babies watch regularly, and while you might be lucky to recognize one or two if you've never watched, it sure helps to know the show. So send the Wife an e-mail if you need an episode locator for a guideline and I'll tell you where you can find 'em.

Enjoy.

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Nursery School (sung to Nicky-Nacky-Nocky-Noo)

"Hoo! Hoo! Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo!" (repeat after every stanza)

Hands on my toys
Who is that here?
That is the toy-stealer, my Mama Dear
Toy-stealer, toy-stealer, nicky-nacky-nocky-noo
That's what they teach me in nursery school.

Tears in his eyes
who is that here?
That is the cry-baby, my Mama dear
Crybaby, toy-stealer, nicky-nacky-nocky-noo
That's what they teach me in nursery school.

Teeth on my arms
Who is that here?
That is the biting brat, my Mama dear
Biting brat, crybaby, toy-stealer nicky-nacky-nocky-noo
That's what they teach me in nursery school.

Barf in her mouth
Who is that here?
That is the carsick girl, my Mama dear
Carsick girl, biting brat, crybaby, toy-stealer, nicky-nacky-nocky-noo
That's what they teach me in nursery school.

Lips near my ears
Who is that here?
That is the tattletale, my Mama dear
Tattletale, carsick girl, biting brat, crybaby, toy-stealer, nicky-nacky-nocky-noo
That's what they teach me in nursery school.

Lips near her butt
Who is that here?
That is the teacher's pet, my Mama dear
Teacher's pet, tattletale, carsick girl, biting brat, crybaby, toy-stealer, nicky-nacky-nocky-noo
That's what they teach me in nursery school.

"Hoo! Hoo! Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo!"

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Strange Man in the Park (sung to Brown Girl in the Ring)

Strange man in the park (tra la la la laa)
Strange man in the park (traaa, la la la la la)
Strange man in the park (tra la la la laa)
He looks like a weirdo and a bum, bum-bum

Staring at the kiddies (tra la la la laa)
Staring at the kiddies (traaa, la la la la la)
Staring at the kiddies (tra la la la laa)
He looks like a weirdo and a bum, bum-bum

Hiding in the bushes (tra la la la laa)
Hiding in the bushes (traaa, la la la la la)
Hiding in the bushes (tra la la la laa)
He acts like a pervert and a bum, bum-bum

Offering them candy (tra la la la laa)
Offering them candy (traaa, la la la la la)
Offering them candy (tra la la la laa)
Oh my god! He's a pervert and a bum, bum-bum

Call a polieceman (tra la la la laa)
Call a polieceman (traaa, la la la la la)
Call a polieceman (tra la la la laa)
'Cuz that man is a pervert and a bum, bum-bum

Goin' to the pokey (tra la la la laa)
Goin' to the pokey (traaa, la la la la la)
Goin' to the pokey (tra la la la laa)
'Cuz that man is a pervert and a bum, bum-bum

Strange man in the park (tra la la la laa)
Strange man in the park (traaa, la la la la la)
Strange man in the park (tra la la la laa)
Oh, that man was a pervert and a bum, bum-bum

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Poopie Doo! (sung to Hoop De Doo)

Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap) Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap)
My daughter's bottom is all covered in poo
Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap) Poopie dee! (clap clap clap clap)
Makes changing diapers so much harder for me
Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap) Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap)
It's really got my kid uptight
So hold me down my breath and guts
It's time for me to wipe some butts
I'm Poopie-doo-'n it tonight!

(hey!)

When her bottom's blowing ra-ta-ta-ta-ta
I get a chill (and not the good kind)
I always will (he always will)
When I hear my daughter grunting while she waffles to and fro
I start to woe (he starts to woe)
She's "letting go" (she's "letting go")
When the kibble hits the middle of the diaper it's a riddle how the smell gets out so quick
It often smells so bad that I could die
But I suck it up and deal
So the contents don't congeal
cuz I'm a "poopie-doo-'n" kind of guy...

(hey!)

Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap) Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap)
(instrumental with clarinets, accordions and other polka regalia)
Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap) Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap)
(This is serious polka here, folks, think Lawrence Welk conducts the Schmenges)
Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap) Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap)
(What's the matter, you don't like polka? You try knitting a freakin’ accordion cozy)
Ho (ho) Ho (ho) Ho (ho) Ho (ho)
Poopie-doo-'n it tonight!

(hey!)

When her bottom's blowing ra-ta-ta-ta-ta
I oft contend (to FickleWife)
There's no impend (ing diaper change)
When I hear my daughter grunting while she waffles to and fro
I start to crow (at least "project")
"There won't be flow" (or so I think)
And then the kibble hits the middle of the diaper and I riddle how I never dodge the job
Wife catches me no matter how I try
She says Stop your girly squeal
Simply pull the tape and peel
And so re-luctantly I do comply...

(hey!)

Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap) Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap)
My daughter's diaper rash is rivaled by few
Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap) Poopie dee! (clap clap clap clap)
Makes keeping Desitin a challenge for me
Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap) Poopie doo! (clap clap clap clap)
The redness really is a fright
Still I must quickly clean the grime
Cuz in another hour's time she's
Poopie-doo-'n it with all of her might
"I need diapers! I need wipes!"
Find your head and stop your gripes!
Poopie-doo-'n it (clap clap)
Poopie-doo-'n it (clap clap)
Poopie-doo-'n it tonight!
(Poopieeee!!!)

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Lead-Paint Car (sung to Big Red Car)

Our child won a door prize
A little toy Jaguar
We checked the 'net for recalls
Turns out it was a lead-paint car.

Toot-toot chugga-chugga lead-paint car
Manufactured in a country afa-a-ar
Toot-toot chugga-chugga lead-paint car
They're breakin' laws the whole day long

We called the local manufacturer
They said the offshore plant was to blame
We called the Beijing authorities
There's no lead they loudly disclaim

Toot-toot chugga-chugga lead-paint car
This time the Chinese are going too fa-a-ar
Toot-toot chugga-chugga lead-paint car
We're gettin' mad the whole day long

Our boy was really intelligent
In school he should have been a star
But now he's riding the short bus
Because he teethed on the lead-paint car

Toot-toot chugga-chugga lead-paint car
The situation is kinda biza-a-arre
Toot-toot chugga-chugga lead-paint car
He's "getting slow" the whole day long

Economic sanctions
Are likely to fall flat
I think the best motivator
Is a pissed mom with a baseball bat

Toot-toot chugga-chugga lead-paint car
There's some lawyers out there that I hope they disbaa-a-ar
Toot-toot chugga-chugga lead-paint car
We're fightin' back the whole day long

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Rolling off the Bedrail (sung to Rolling Down the Sandhills)

Rolling off the bedrail, Rolling off the bedrail
Oof! Thud! Waaaahhhh! (wah wah wah wah wah)
Rolling off the bedrail, Rolling off the bedrail
Oof! Thud! Waaaahhhh!
Gotta call the doctor
Won't you fix the rail for me?

Rolling off the bedrail, Rolling off the bedrail
Oof! Thud! Waaaahhhh! (wah wah wah wah wah)
Rolling off the bedrail, Rolling off the bedrail
Oof! Thud! Waaaahhhh!
Gotta clean a head wound
Fix the f*ckin' rail for me!!

Now that that's out of the way I can extend a special thanks to Susie from
To Knit, Perchance to Dream for mentioning me as someone who occasionally makes her day. I'll tell you what makes my day, looking at her hand dyed yarn. If anyone buys the Hot Sox colorway before I do, prepare to be assimilated. Or something really, really bad.

Please enjoy my list of totally bitchin bloggers.
Desiknitter The Knitting, The History, The Rangoli Hat. So good. She makes my two remaining brain cells flail around in my empty head. I like that.
Samurai Knitter The Writing, The Goober, The Knitting, Sekhmet the Fucker. Four out of Five Dentists agree Samurai Knitter is good for The Healthy Blog Reading.
The Rainey Sisters The Knitting, The Writing about Knitting, The Designs. Entertaining and Informative. Good Knitting Karma.
Knittibell The Mosiacs, The Writing, The Unapologetic use of the Eff word and the her gift of self expression. When I look up the word "Bellatrix" in the dictionary her picture is there, kicking the asses of all those other wussy words.
Beebo The Writing, The Beebo, Her Knitting Journey, And More! Odes to Shiny Valves, Clipping Coupons, Artistic Expression for the low low price of FREE! Limited Time Only, Some restrictions Apply.
The Seated View The Photography, The Point of View, The Golden Poo. Yeah, I said it, but Lene blogged it first (TM).
Kuky Ideas The Crafting, The Isabelle, The Daily Drawings. I want to sew as fearlessly as Kuky. I want to take photographs as well as Kuky. Feel the Kuky, BE the Kuky.
TECH Knitting Where have you been all my life? I want to be TECH Knitting when I grow up. She tames the Rollingest Hems and whips rag tag knitting INTO SHAPE. All who know TECH Knitting you just got pwned!!!1!!!!1!!
Fear and Loathing in Los Angeles What Country will she blog from next? She sews, she knits, she draws, she ninjas. I'm pretty sure she is invincible with her bullet proof bracelets. She's got great assets, too.