About Me
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Firefly; Jayne's 'Cunning' Hat
I've been selling 'Jayne' hats via ebay during the past few years, and they never fail to sell. There always seems to be a continuing demand.
My hats are top-quality, and they sell for less than most other hats you'll find simply net surfing. They're awesome, affordable, and make great gifts for any 'flan.')
My hats are top-quality, and they sell for less than most other hats you'll find simply net surfing. They're awesome, affordable, and make great gifts for any 'flan.')
Monday, June 01, 2009
Free-Range Knitter
For the record, I'm no loyal fan of the infamous 'Yarn Harlot', I'm no dedicated blog commentor of hers, as for her books, I've previously only read bits and pieces, and I'm certainly no free range knitter.
On Friday, I attended a book signing in Dallas, purchased her latest book, Free-Range Knitter, well, my lovely April did the actual purchasing, and now I've read it.
What strikes me about her writing is her skill to tell a story, and how she captures the true essence of knitting and the knitters responsible for said knitting.
I was rather scepticle, as I always am, but as I read, the more she, and her writing reminded me of myself. Aside my blatant lack of an ungodly love for knitting, of course.
Or perhaps it's that she simply writes in such a way that anyone can relate to, because her stories tend to thoroughly exploit the embarrassing human tendancies we all possess.
Free- Range Knitter is quite readable, as her material generally has the habbit of being. It's the sort of book that you can't put down until it's finished, and a highly entertaining read, in my opinion.
I thoroughly enjoyed being able to witness she and her monologue, which I'd label as more of a 'performance' than anything, was at times, comparable to that of a stand-up comedian. Better, since you don't have to feign laughter at timely intervals.
Ironically, I have the greatest urge to knit. It could just be the vast amount of reading about knitting talking, but I may actually be inspired enough to pick up the needles, and plod my way back into the knitting world. One of these days.
Overall, the moral of my blog is that my personal experience has earned me some amount of respect for the woman that is Stephanie McPhee, and for all that she has accomplished. I know I don't have to go so far as to suggest that you all to go pick up a book, or read her blog, because a great most of the knit bloggers are already familiar with her stylings.
On Friday, I attended a book signing in Dallas, purchased her latest book, Free-Range Knitter, well, my lovely April did the actual purchasing, and now I've read it.
What strikes me about her writing is her skill to tell a story, and how she captures the true essence of knitting and the knitters responsible for said knitting.
I was rather scepticle, as I always am, but as I read, the more she, and her writing reminded me of myself. Aside my blatant lack of an ungodly love for knitting, of course.
Or perhaps it's that she simply writes in such a way that anyone can relate to, because her stories tend to thoroughly exploit the embarrassing human tendancies we all possess.
Free- Range Knitter is quite readable, as her material generally has the habbit of being. It's the sort of book that you can't put down until it's finished, and a highly entertaining read, in my opinion.
I thoroughly enjoyed being able to witness she and her monologue, which I'd label as more of a 'performance' than anything, was at times, comparable to that of a stand-up comedian. Better, since you don't have to feign laughter at timely intervals.
Ironically, I have the greatest urge to knit. It could just be the vast amount of reading about knitting talking, but I may actually be inspired enough to pick up the needles, and plod my way back into the knitting world. One of these days.
Overall, the moral of my blog is that my personal experience has earned me some amount of respect for the woman that is Stephanie McPhee, and for all that she has accomplished. I know I don't have to go so far as to suggest that you all to go pick up a book, or read her blog, because a great most of the knit bloggers are already familiar with her stylings.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
N'er Mind
I managed to adjust the content so that now my blog possesses a musical aspect, so I may not do away with it all together.
That Project Playlist music player is the end result of hours of searching, editing, and revising the muscial content, and Myspace saw fit to do away with supporting it all together. Needless to say, it disappointed me greatly, and Myspacing holds little joy for me now.
In other news, of greater importance, author Tad Williams has turned out the first eight chapters of his fantasy novel, Dragons of Ordinary Farm. Available to read in pdf format for all. How cool? While it's not quite my cup o' tea since I'm a little over the hill for this particular sort of story, I love his work, and it shouldn't go unappreciated.
That Project Playlist music player is the end result of hours of searching, editing, and revising the muscial content, and Myspace saw fit to do away with supporting it all together. Needless to say, it disappointed me greatly, and Myspacing holds little joy for me now.
In other news, of greater importance, author Tad Williams has turned out the first eight chapters of his fantasy novel, Dragons of Ordinary Farm. Available to read in pdf format for all. How cool? While it's not quite my cup o' tea since I'm a little over the hill for this particular sort of story, I love his work, and it shouldn't go unappreciated.
This particular work, is actually the colaborated efforts of he and his wife and partner, Deborah Beale. Judging from the blog they keep, which reads like a novel, she has a sharp mind, and just as talented as he. Were I half the author I aspire to be, I would kill for a man type figure that shared my interest. They certainly make quite the pair.
That being said, everyone who happens to have been born with a functioning mind and endowments of the ocular sort really ought to visit his site.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Spur-of-the-Moment Poetry
I am nothing
If there were any beauty in such a thing, I would have you find it
I am the sun
Still, I wish you to fill the emptiness encompassing me.
Would we only lust for things possessed; we would be complete
There would be no beauty in hope
Only in that which is
In that land, I would dwell
Suffering true contentment
Pitied by all creation, until all who live mourn my very existance
Yet, their collective sorrow stays my hand, for I now know beauty
If there were any beauty in such a thing, I would have you find it
I am the sun
Still, I wish you to fill the emptiness encompassing me.
Would we only lust for things possessed; we would be complete
There would be no beauty in hope
Only in that which is
In that land, I would dwell
Suffering true contentment
Pitied by all creation, until all who live mourn my very existance
Yet, their collective sorrow stays my hand, for I now know beauty
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
The Irony Is Overwhelming.
Okay, so I don't do much plugging, but here's a plug.
Subscribe to Delancy Place, or at the very least check out the site.
You get a handy excerpt, which is chosen from a variety of genres, e-mailed to you ever day. They generally look something like this:
In today's excerpt--organic, as it is used on food labels, while it still means chemical-pesticide-free, doesn't mean quite what it used to. And then there's the so-called free range chicken:
"Shopping at Whole Foods is a literary experience. That's not to take anything away from the food, which is generally of high quality, much of it 'certified organic' or 'humanely raised' or 'free range.' But right there, that's the point: It's the evocative prose as much as anything else that makes this food really special. ...
"With the growth of organics and mounting concerns about the wholesomeness of industrial food, ... it is Whole Foods that consistently offers the most cutting-edge grocery 'lit.' On a recent visit I filled my shopping cart with eggs 'from cage-free vegetarian hens,' milk from cows that live 'free from unnecessary fear and distress,' wild salmon caught by Native Americans in Yakutat, Alaska (population 833), and heirloom tomatoes from Capay Farm (S4.99 a pound), 'one of the early pioneers of the organic movement.' The organic broiler I picked up even had a name: Rosie, who turned out to be a 'sustainably farmed' 'free-range chicken' from Petaluma Poultry. ...
"The organic movement, as it was once called, has come a remarkably long way in the last thirty years, to the point where it now looks considerably less like a movement than a big business. Lining the walls above the sumptuously stocked produce section in my Whole Foods are full-color photographs of local organic farmers accompanied by text blocks setting forth their farming philosophies. A handful of these farms still sell their produce to Whole Foods, but most are long gone from the produce bins, if not yet the walls. That's because Whole Foods in recent years has adopted the grocery industry's standard regional distribution system, which makes supporting small farms impractical. Tremendous warehouses buy produce for dozens of stores at a time, which forces them to deal exclusively with [huge] farms. ...
"The question is, ... just how well does [today's organic] hold up under close reading and journalistic scrutiny? [Not that well]. At least that's what I discovered when I traced a few of the items in my Whole Foods cart back to the farms where they were grown. I learned, for example, that some (certainly not all) organic milk comes from factory farms, where thousands of Holsteins that never encounter a blade of grass spend their days confined to a fenced 'dry lot,' eating (certified organic) grain and tethered to milking machines three times a day. ...
"I also visited Rosie the organic chicken at her farm in Petaluma, which turns out to be more animal factory than farm. She lives in a shed with twenty thousand other Rosies, who, aside from their certified organic feed, live lives little different from that of any other industrial chicken. Ah, but what about the 'free-range' lifestyle promised on the label? True, there's a little door in the shed leading out to a narrow grassy yard. But the free-range story seems a bit of a stretch when you discover that the door remains firmly shut until the birds are at least five or six weeks old--for fear they'll catch something outside--and the chickens are slaughtered only two weeks later."
Michael Pollan, Omnivore's Dilemma, Penguin, Copyright 2006 by Michael Pollan, pp. 134-140.
Subscribe to Delancy Place, or at the very least check out the site.
You get a handy excerpt, which is chosen from a variety of genres, e-mailed to you ever day. They generally look something like this:
In today's excerpt--organic, as it is used on food labels, while it still means chemical-pesticide-free, doesn't mean quite what it used to. And then there's the so-called free range chicken:
"Shopping at Whole Foods is a literary experience. That's not to take anything away from the food, which is generally of high quality, much of it 'certified organic' or 'humanely raised' or 'free range.' But right there, that's the point: It's the evocative prose as much as anything else that makes this food really special. ...
"With the growth of organics and mounting concerns about the wholesomeness of industrial food, ... it is Whole Foods that consistently offers the most cutting-edge grocery 'lit.' On a recent visit I filled my shopping cart with eggs 'from cage-free vegetarian hens,' milk from cows that live 'free from unnecessary fear and distress,' wild salmon caught by Native Americans in Yakutat, Alaska (population 833), and heirloom tomatoes from Capay Farm (S4.99 a pound), 'one of the early pioneers of the organic movement.' The organic broiler I picked up even had a name: Rosie, who turned out to be a 'sustainably farmed' 'free-range chicken' from Petaluma Poultry. ...
"The organic movement, as it was once called, has come a remarkably long way in the last thirty years, to the point where it now looks considerably less like a movement than a big business. Lining the walls above the sumptuously stocked produce section in my Whole Foods are full-color photographs of local organic farmers accompanied by text blocks setting forth their farming philosophies. A handful of these farms still sell their produce to Whole Foods, but most are long gone from the produce bins, if not yet the walls. That's because Whole Foods in recent years has adopted the grocery industry's standard regional distribution system, which makes supporting small farms impractical. Tremendous warehouses buy produce for dozens of stores at a time, which forces them to deal exclusively with [huge] farms. ...
"The question is, ... just how well does [today's organic] hold up under close reading and journalistic scrutiny? [Not that well]. At least that's what I discovered when I traced a few of the items in my Whole Foods cart back to the farms where they were grown. I learned, for example, that some (certainly not all) organic milk comes from factory farms, where thousands of Holsteins that never encounter a blade of grass spend their days confined to a fenced 'dry lot,' eating (certified organic) grain and tethered to milking machines three times a day. ...
"I also visited Rosie the organic chicken at her farm in Petaluma, which turns out to be more animal factory than farm. She lives in a shed with twenty thousand other Rosies, who, aside from their certified organic feed, live lives little different from that of any other industrial chicken. Ah, but what about the 'free-range' lifestyle promised on the label? True, there's a little door in the shed leading out to a narrow grassy yard. But the free-range story seems a bit of a stretch when you discover that the door remains firmly shut until the birds are at least five or six weeks old--for fear they'll catch something outside--and the chickens are slaughtered only two weeks later."
Michael Pollan, Omnivore's Dilemma, Penguin, Copyright 2006 by Michael Pollan, pp. 134-140.
Friday, March 13, 2009
And Everyone Realized That the Characteristics of a Human Being Were Simply a Balance of That of Animal and Machine...
Sonnet IV: Of The Machinations of Anthropos
Steady manipulation of the mind-machines
Simply further the ongoing process
Inculcating sight miscalculation
Into the decorum of our conquest
Systematic slight, ungodly marvel
A medaled man, with metal man in hand
Who presumes to bear, alter, maneuver
A biological Automaton?
Endowed with syncretic, unthinking mind
Contemporary little humanoid
Would oblivion, be thy holy name?
Bless your shameful circuitry, Amnestia
Give birth to mankind's malfunctioning curse
Wholly corrupt, each, his earthly concourse
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Binary Scarf Adventures
Points to any one who can guess which band's myspace is in the background. I'll give you a hint. Their songs have been know to last 8-10 minutes long, and their older, more instrumental albums are so much better than their newer...
Monday, December 08, 2008
In Queue
I'm nearing 300 pages, which is usually the pivotal moment, where I pick up the pace and actually finish anyone of the countless books that I begin.
What's next? I begin the last book of the Otherland series. Really need to finish this one up.
Or perhaps I'll finish Fellowship of the Ring...
And lastly, here's a list of books that I highly recommend.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Hm, well...
You Are a Blueberry Muffin |
 You are a nurturing, domestic, homey person. Of all the types, you are the most likely to make your own muffins at home. You don't like to rock the boat, and you're most content when you're making everyone else happy. You are very loyal. You'll defend your family and friends, even if you secretly disapprove of what they're doing. You tend to be a bit shy and withdrawn. You don't make friends quickly or easily. But once you do make a good friend, the chances are high that you'll be friends for life. |
Sunday, November 16, 2008
This is Only the Beginning
I'm contemplating turning this blog into one that is less about knitting, and more about whatever I feel like writing about. I do so very little knitting these days. I suppose I'm just not in the mood. I did start a sock with my Toefootsies yarn, but heck if I feel like knitting on it.
I feel like attending a Coheed concert. Next weekend I'll be going to something of a Spazmatics concert, though, so perhaps that will suffice. The band Tyler Read is playing at Ridglea theater this evening, and I was thinking of going, but I doubt that I will actually go. A Litmus Test is my personal favorite, so I will be a great, amazing person and share it with you.
I feel like attending a Coheed concert. Next weekend I'll be going to something of a Spazmatics concert, though, so perhaps that will suffice. The band Tyler Read is playing at Ridglea theater this evening, and I was thinking of going, but I doubt that I will actually go. A Litmus Test is my personal favorite, so I will be a great, amazing person and share it with you.
Tyler Read- A Litmus Test
Three o' clock on your watch as you stagger out into the street
Whisky soaked, you light up a cigarette for the way it feels between your fingers
Hold the phone, no let it ring (She'll be there wondering)
It's been a long day but a longer night,and this has been a long(time coming)
This only the beginning, in the end you think you're winning
This is only a fake ending, making yourself a way out
In your room, in your room, where you pace back and forth
There were angels all around you now you can't see them anymore
You take this pill from the bottle and now swallow
Giving in is not the problem, no, it's the dosage that will do you in
This is only the beginning, in the end you think you're winning
This is only a fake ending, making yourself a way out
When you close your eyes to sleepIs the ending bittersweet?
When you close your eyes to sleep
What do you see
All the forgotten memories
From all the images you keep
But in the end it'd what you see
That tears you into pieces
Do you think you'll just fade away?
This sums up how I feel.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
November 6, 2008
I'm nineteen and I'm alive. What am I doing for my birthday? Not a thing, except, well, blogging.
Tuesday, November the fourth, author Michael Crichton died. As you could easily see from previous blogs, I appreciate his work. So, everyone should take the time to go read his biography, and perhaps even one of his novels.
Tuesday, November the fourth, author Michael Crichton died. As you could easily see from previous blogs, I appreciate his work. So, everyone should take the time to go read his biography, and perhaps even one of his novels.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Cold Weather
Yay, it looks as if the cold weather has finally arrived! I love fall, now perhaps all the hats and scarves I knit during the year's course can see some actual use.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Of Bombs and Stars
As For The Stars...
Mother, prithee, tell will the stars come out to play?
Child, I pray you would you not seek such answers!
May I catch a cloud who will whisper the way?
To the land the stars all play!
No, my dear, my shining one,
This night no star's light will grace the sky;
Emptiness set moon and sun,
And has taught the stars to fly…
But Mother, why?
Perhaps they have only fallen, sleeping upon a hidden bed
Awaiting moon’s great sun burnt cry
Summoning them home from the land they fled…
Child, night and day, they bore our pain
The moon looked down and mourned us; the sun sorrowed at our dying plea
Until the Great Hand let loose their ties
As for the stars; they were each cast into the sea...
I've been in a writing mood, as of late. Granted, it's not my best work, but that last poetic line popped into my head while I was typing away at a science fiction storyline, and so I had to write a poem to fit it.
Mother, prithee, tell will the stars come out to play?
Child, I pray you would you not seek such answers!
May I catch a cloud who will whisper the way?
To the land the stars all play!
No, my dear, my shining one,
This night no star's light will grace the sky;
Emptiness set moon and sun,
And has taught the stars to fly…
But Mother, why?
Perhaps they have only fallen, sleeping upon a hidden bed
Awaiting moon’s great sun burnt cry
Summoning them home from the land they fled…
Child, night and day, they bore our pain
The moon looked down and mourned us; the sun sorrowed at our dying plea
Until the Great Hand let loose their ties
As for the stars; they were each cast into the sea...
I've been in a writing mood, as of late. Granted, it's not my best work, but that last poetic line popped into my head while I was typing away at a science fiction storyline, and so I had to write a poem to fit it.
The Scarf is stockinette stitch, the yarn is just some I had left over from the many Jayne hats. I thought the bomb turned out pretty cute.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
New Post
The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things. I would go on, but sadly, that is the only remnant I've managed to recall, and this paragraph has so little to do with walrus' and carpenters.
I'm changing my name, cheeky wee knittee has evolved into a name I find more fitting of my knitting persona, Mindless Knitter. Most often the knitting I resort to is mindless, granted, when I'm in the mood, I'll write and knit my own patterns and momentarily qualify as a knitter, but I generally stick to that which is mindless.
I've managed to knit two Browncoat logo beanies, one brown, and one black. I knit the green triangle patch with yellow stripes separately; it turned out well. Especially since it was my first go at knitting a triangle, and I just knit it based on my knowledge of stitches.
As for the star in the center, I wasn't crazy enough to attempt leaving that to knitting, for I happened upon the perfect sized star iron-on patches. These hats are the first actual knitting project that I've worked on since I knit my first pair of socks back in April. I'm beginning to feel like knitting again, this calls for a slideshow. :)
I'm changing my name, cheeky wee knittee has evolved into a name I find more fitting of my knitting persona, Mindless Knitter. Most often the knitting I resort to is mindless, granted, when I'm in the mood, I'll write and knit my own patterns and momentarily qualify as a knitter, but I generally stick to that which is mindless.
I've managed to knit two Browncoat logo beanies, one brown, and one black. I knit the green triangle patch with yellow stripes separately; it turned out well. Especially since it was my first go at knitting a triangle, and I just knit it based on my knowledge of stitches.
As for the star in the center, I wasn't crazy enough to attempt leaving that to knitting, for I happened upon the perfect sized star iron-on patches. These hats are the first actual knitting project that I've worked on since I knit my first pair of socks back in April. I'm beginning to feel like knitting again, this calls for a slideshow. :)
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Random, Yet Great.
You are lucky to have stumbled onto this particular blog.
All the things I list here are pure and utter greatness; things that will improve your existance.
If you fail to see or experience any of those qualities, consider yourself wrong.
Read:
Seed To Harvest by Octavia E. Butler
Spend eight dollars at Barnes and Noble for the compilation, or if not, public librarys aren't rare.
Watch:
The Whitest Kids U'Know
All the things I list here are pure and utter greatness; things that will improve your existance.
If you fail to see or experience any of those qualities, consider yourself wrong.
Read:
Seed To Harvest by Octavia E. Butler
Spend eight dollars at Barnes and Noble for the compilation, or if not, public librarys aren't rare.
Watch:
The Whitest Kids U'Know
Listen:
There is no true description, you have to hear the magic.
In knitting news, I've just finished a hat, one of my own pattern and design. Nothing special, just your basic beanie type hat, ribbing here, straight knitting there, something I threw together. I plan to perfect the pattern and adjust it accordingly for smaller needles and fingering weight yarn. I had meant to knit this hat with what I expected to be size 6s and sports weight yarn, but I grabbed, what I guess, to be 8s, so the hat was a little more floopy than I had originally wanted. Despite that, I like the outcome.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
I Hate Blogs
Why do I insist on keeping them?
I talk myself into creating a few, post once, and forget my multiple passwords, multiple times.
I suppose I think that I'll look back and reread all of them one days, and instantly recall whatever it was I was doing whenever, but I never actually bring myself to do that.
All in all, I'm far to boring to maintain a public blog, and this one may or may not be around in the near future.
I talk myself into creating a few, post once, and forget my multiple passwords, multiple times.
I suppose I think that I'll look back and reread all of them one days, and instantly recall whatever it was I was doing whenever, but I never actually bring myself to do that.
All in all, I'm far to boring to maintain a public blog, and this one may or may not be around in the near future.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
A Sonnet
The Quest Of The Cynic
Love is the sole purpose of existence!
Our destiny wholly to seek and find.
Is that not the general consensus?
Such sentiments befit a simple mind.
Would you remove man from his pedestal?
Or appoint him a throne to rule on high?
"Rather blind men lead the way," laugh the fools.
As the men of the Earth march off to die.
The wise wish me to acquire wisdom.
The ignorant suggest I search for love.
The old say, look up, seek why you are come!
The young assure me nought exists above...
Cynics embrace; inhale and suspire.
Lovers; in their ignorance expire.
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