My Life in Cartoon

In other news:

I suck at knitting (except plushy bunnies)

Knit One Pearl Two - continued

Yesterday's post got me to thinking about when I learned how to know. At first blush of the memory my mind went back to a late teen years - or at least this is when it really took off in me. This was alluded to yesterday.

But in fact my very first knitting experience was a Christmas in the late 60's when I was 7 or 8 - my parents bought me a knitting machine. Not the kind that they have for kids now - round with a crank, but the kind that was straight across and you had a handle that you went back and forth on. If you can imagine an iron and ironing board - except you spat out knitting, not flat sheets.

Upon deeper reflection - although I was thrilled with the present (much more than the ski's I received the following year - but that's another story), it was a toy that required initial parental assistance. I didn't get that part, and as any excited youngster would do - I launched into my attempt with glee and gusto and .... broke it.

You would think that you average parent would see the error in their ways and assist a young thing in distress, but no - the knitting machine was returned and never spoken of (or replaced) again. (The same cannot be said for the above mention ski's - but again I digress).

I've never forgotten that knitting machine, and to be frank - I'd seriously like a second shot at it. I know I wouldn't need parental assistance this time. Or at least I think I could handle it on my own.

After the return of the machine that Christmas I went back to my tried and true system of an empty wooden spool of thread with nails hammered in around one end and I made oodles and oodles of long knitted snake coats.

Funny how I never met a snake that would wear my creations. Thankfully I had Barbie dolls to dress up in knitted boas, fingerless gloves, and long scarves.

Something to keep my hands busy

A couple of weeks ago I alluded to having a slightly addictive personality. At the time I was referring to my penchant for spending time with "Shaun" my virtual sheep. One of the other things that I have recently been delving into is the ancient art of knitting.

My mom was a furious knitter, and I still have many of her odd creations. Colour schemes where not her thing.

I digress .....

On and off over the years I've picked up my needles and carried on the tradition. However, for the first time in all my knitting experiences, I've knitted something that wasn't a sweater or scarf.

I knitted bunnies - in sweaters.


I was amazed at the joy of being able to start a finish a project within a couple days. Not weeks like a sweater would take me.

I am presently at the finishing stages of a sweater I started post-bunnies, but I'm already looking for my next 'animal' object to divide and conqueror. But no matter what I chose you can be 'darn' sure it will never, ever, ever be socks. On this ground I firmly stand - I will never knit a pair of socks.

The Box Said "Golden Blonde"

Who knew there was so much red in "golden"? Who knew my gray hair would take red so well?

I came to the decision it was time to update my colour, but that I also wanted to go just a tich darker, warmer, blonder ... So I chose the box, in my regular brand, a number or two higher. "Yes!" I thought to myself, "This will be a nicer, warmer, dark blonde."

It's official - for the next few weeks I'm a red head!!

Four years ago or so, I purchased another colour with - what I thought would be - burgundy or auburn highlights. Little did I realize that I would be channeling Lucille Ball in her hay days. It was a shocking bright red.

Thankfully today, as I look in the mirror, its still red, but a nicer, warmer, dark blondey red. I can deal.

And thank you Lord! I never use 'permanent'!!!

Nocturnal Technicolours

I've warned you before about my crazy dreams. Last night was no exception. It's really a good thing I like dreaming, regardless of the contents.

Picture this - a large theme park atmosphere - crazy rides - lots of people - and me .... in a long full skirted red satin ball gown and red stiletto heels. I'm trying to negotiate myself around the park (with friends, none of which I have in waking life) and on to a variety of rides. Only I find that its taken me so long to walk in my dress and heels that by the time I make it to the next ride, they've just closed it because it was full. So then I would attempt to make it to the next ride - only to not make it on time.


Although - I did make it into a virtual helicopter ride type thing. The pilot kept making the helicopter do loop-di-loops, and my dress spent most of the time up over my head - crinolines displayed loudly!

What is my mind trying to process with stuff like this going on?

A Product of Too Much 60's TV

I don't know what's going on in my brain, but each day that I pop home for lunch a TV commercial ditty from the 60's or 70's come to my head and out of my mouth.

One day it was:

My Bologna has a first name,
It's O-S-C-A-R.
My Bologna has a second name,
It's M-E-Y-E-R
And if you ask me ....
(can't remember the words but ends with)
O$car Meyer has a way with
B-O-L-O-G-N-A ....

Then the next day I was singing:

I wish I were an O$car Meyer Weiner.
That is what I truly wish to be..ee...eeeee.
And if i were an O$car Meyer Weiner,
Then everyone would be in love with me....

Then on the third day is was it was something about Beef-Aroni, a Chef Boyardi product, but at this exact moment I can't remember the tune.

Obviously I have lunch on the brain, but were do these little songs get stored for 30-40 years that they just pop out like that. Does anyone else remember these commercial songs??