I'm Actually Working

Just thought you'd like to know - Hide and Sheep has been updated.

New vendors will be added throughout the afternoon and evening, as well as tomorrow.

Should you place an order on Saturday for vendors which I listed on Friday, I will extend the discount to you. The sale will officially be turned off Saturday night (even though it technically ends tomorrow night).

Is that clear as mud? Good. :)

SALE EXTENDED THROUGH FRIDAY

What the title says.

You'd Think I Had More to Say

But I don't.

I wanted to thank all my fantastic friends who left congratulatory comments and sent me notes about getting our house. Both Hubster and I really appreciate them. :)

I also want to thank my lovely SP12 pal, Heather, for the incredible package she put together for me. She put all kinds of goodies in there, including a hand-knitted pair of socks and knitting bag/purse. I'll be posting pictures of the loot as soon as Hubster gets the camera set up again.

Speaking of cameras, here is tonight's gratuitous shot of the pot roast.





Emma thinks she's human.

Mrs. Q, this little story is just for you. When I went cross-country skiing with my ex, we went to Yosemite to accomplish this feat. John had also grown up in Colorado, had climbed every peak in the Rockies, and also taught skiing at Copper Mountain. I figured he would be the ideal person to teach me how to do the old cross-country. He started out by getting me to layer my clothes. Then he got me the proper boots and skis. Finally, he brought along a bota bag of wine and a bunch of cheese. Good thing we brought those last two items - a snow-clearing machine had skidded and gotten stuck - sideways - in a snowbank. Since it stretched across the road, there was nothing we could do but wait for it to be towed out. After draining the bota bag of wine and eating all the cheese, we snuggled under a couple of blankets to wait it out. Finally, the beast was extracted and we were on our way.

After we arrived at the place he wanted to ski at, I saw all this pristine snow on the ground. Flinging my car door open, I was already in mid-flight as he yelled, "Don't jump in ... ". Too late. As gracefully as a hippo, I soared through the air, fully expecting to land on the snow and run around like an idiot. Nope. Since you, Mrs. Q, were raised in the Rockies, you know what happened.

I sunk down to my waist in powder.

Hm. Snow didn't act in real life like it did on TV.

After getting me pulled out of my snow grave, John sat me back in the car and got my skis on. Of course, I was three sheets to the wind from all the wine I had consumed, so I didn't feel a thing. Off we went, John carving out a path for me to ski in. Then I toppled over to the side (it felt like it was all in slow motion) and landed flat on my back in a POOF! of snow. It was also actively snowing, so little snowflakes were dancing off my face. I remember thinking how lovely it all was. John told me to plant my ski pole in the snow and use it as a lever to push myself out of my new snow grave. No problem. I pushed so hard that I not only catapulted out of the hole, I shot straight upwards and fell on the other side. Now I was laying there laughing so hard that I wasn't capable of doing anything other than getting buried in my new snow grave.

We finally got back on our way, and I understood why he had me layer my clothes. This was hard work! Apparently, cross-country skiing wasn't like it was on TV, either. People on TV glided across the snow with their snowflake and reindeer-decorated sweaters, hats, and mittens with nary a bead of sweat on their brows. I was huffing and puffing like an ox pulling two laden carts. He saw that I was in distress, showed me how to do some maneuver which I've forgotten the name for (it's turning on your skis), had me jump down a mini-hill (it was about 5" high), and we headed for the car.

I think you know what happened next. He got my boots off and snow spilled out of them. The dude at the store hadn't fitted them properly. My feet were frozen to the point of being absolutely numb. He turned the heater on high, wrapped my feet in a blanket, and frantically looked for something for me to drink. I didn't understand what the fuss was all about until my feet began to thaw out. OW OW OW OW OW. At least when I was potted, it didn't matter that my feet were about to turn a hideous shade of black and blue and fall off.

Thus ends my one major experience with snow. The other times, I saw it falling on our car as we tried to get to Reno before I-80 closed down or we lost traction and flew off the side of the mountain.

Think I need some practice in both driving and walking around in the stuff?

The only other thing I wanted to tell you is that I've posted a new vendor, "Fuzzy Fiber", and added acrylic needle cases to Craftiness. Tomorrow, I'll be adding a lot of items to Hide and Sheep, as well as adding the rest of the vendors Hubster has photographed. Check back in the late afternoon to see what's going on. Remember that the sale ends Wednesday at midnight.

I guess I had more to say than I thought. If I get another artist listed in the shop tonight, great. But I'm getting tired and think I might sit down to knit for a while. Maybe I won't break another DPN like I did last night. At least I didn't drop any stitches.

Now that I've said that, you all know what's going to happen tonight.

I'm going to wake up drooling all over my sock which will be dangling from the stump of a previously 6" DPN.

Just a Quickie (Not a Nooner)

As you all know, Hubster and I have been trying to get a house in Idyllwild since we were last there. Many people, including ourselves, believed that I wasn't really meant to cut a CD or even play in the concert; rather, we were put there to find our dream home, the home that we would grow old in. As you also know, we found that house and have been waiting and negotiating to get it. We got the phone call yesterday from the realtor:

WE GOT THE HOUSE!!! WE GOT THE HOUSE!!! WE GOT THE HOUSE!!!

(sorry about yelling - I'm a little excited)

I've never seen Hubster so happy about moving. He's usually blase about houses, but he loves this one and loves the area. We're looking forward to it, but I'll miss San Francisco and my family (I'm a born and bred Bay Arean - Northern California is my home, and if you told me that I would be living in SoCal, I would have said you were full of shit). At least we're not all that far away and can fly up here in an hour or drive up in eight hours. Besides, Disneyland is less than two hours from our new home. I can deal with that.

In order to celebrate, I'm having another sale - a "We Got The House!" sale. Everything in the shop will be 20% off, and the sale will run from next Monday through Wednesday (October 27th - 29th). This time, I'm playing it smart - all orders will be filled the following week.

Anyway, that's all I wanted to say. Now I'm going to continue doing the happy dance. :)

Still Waiting... and Waiting... and Waiting...

Don't you hate it when you think something is yours, only to find out that there is more involved than you thought?

Such is the case with our new home.

When we accepted the sellers' terms to rent for the first year and then enter into a "lease to own" agreement, we thought it was over and done with. We were just waiting to hear how much they wanted for first, last, and deposit, or if they were going to waive some or all of that because we were buying the house at the end of the year. When our real estate agent called, we though that was what he was going to tell us. Instead, he told us we had to fill out a form giving them permission to run our credit (along with sending a $35 check for the privilege of doing so); a few days later, he emailed me a form to fill out which was essentially an application to rent. What the fuck? Then he told us we would get an answer today. It turns out that the sellers are on vacation and, while they are in contact with their agent, we haven't heard a word. We called our agent, and he said that we would definitely hear by tomorrow. It sure as hell won't be later today - it's after 5:00 p.m., and the office is now closed. I barely made it through the weekend; now I have to wait until tomorrow. My anxiety level has gone through the roof, and I have to get through tonight somehow. Thank you to everyone who is keeping us in their prayers. Pray extra hard tonight, will ya?

Then there's Emma. We took the pot roast to the vet on Wednesday morning to get spayed. She is the only dog I know who loves going to the vet, even though by now she knows that the vet isn't a fun place. She just loves all the people there - and I think she knows that she gets yummies from everybody in sight. We handed her over to the assistant, kissed her goodbye, and went home to wait and worry. When the call came later that afternoon saying she was just fine and had come through it with flying colors, we were VERY relieved. I went to pick her up because Hubster was busy with work and dragged my mother along (I never know when I can't drive, so I wanted her with me in case I went weird). Mom uses the same vet, so all the people there know her. We were sitting in the waiting room when one of the ladies came up to us carrying a velvet bag and an envelope. She sat down beside me and said, "Cheyenne has come home". I didn't hear much of the rest of what she was saying because she opened the bag and slid it down to reveal a box which had Cheyenne's name on it; both Mom and I burst into tears and were too busy making a scene to hear much of anything. Another of the staff promptly brought over a box of Kleenex for us. It turns out that they did the same thing they did for Monkey - there was the box with Cheyenne's cremains, a certificate stating that she was cremated alone so there was no chance of mixing ashes, and a plaster cast of her paw print with her name embossed on the side. It was just too much, so I handed everything over to Mom. Mom hugged the box to her chest and rocked back and forth while she wept. If I could have walked out of there, I would have, but Emma was about to make her grand entrance.

And what an entrance it was! She came bounding into the room, wiggling all over the place and wanting love from everyone in the waiting room (there were two other women who were looking at me like I was an alien and staring with that imperious look that says "you're a piece of trash"), but the poor thing had one of those lampshades around her neck that kept getting caught on the floor (while I didn't have a lampshade around my neck when I got spayed, it HURT - I wasn't bounding anywhere). Emma isn't that high, and she usually walks with her head down and swinging (unless she's scored something good, in which case she holds her head high and prances). I was given instructions on how to care for her, pain killers, tranquilizers, and a bunch of paperwork; then I held up the cone so Emma could walk to the door. Even so, it caught on the doorframe, causing her to stop in fear. The assistant picked up Emma and put her in the carrier in the truck. Emma promptly laid down and began to whimper. Was the day going to get any worse?

I had to think that. We got home and cut off the cone (Emma can't fold that solid body enough to get at the incision), after which she began running all over the place, jumping off the couch, and doing everything she wasn't supposed to do. We gave her a tranquilizer (which didn't do a damned thing), and tried to keep her quiet. It was like trying to keep a bear from shitting in the woods. So I called the vet the next day and found out that I could give her up to three tranks at a time. We gave her two, and it knocked her out. However, I had to be sitting in my chair so she could cuddle up next to me (she manages to wrap her body around my hip). While I've gotten a lot of knitting done, I haven't got much else completed. She's asleep in her carrier right now because when she comes off the tranks, she turns into Cujo's first cousin. We ran out of them this morning, but the vet refilled them. After I shower and get ready, we have to go to Mom's and pick them up. Then it's over to Mervyn's to buy some clothes. After all these years, they're going out of business (they opened their first store in 1945 right up the street from where I live). It's truly sad - my family knew Mervyn Morris, the man who started the chain. In fact, he wanted my grandpa to be head of security for all his stores. Grandpa turned him down - after all, he was a cop, not a door shaker. Anyway, Emma is doing fine - she just needs to calm down. A LOT.

I also have signed up for a motorcycle instruction class. It's a two-part deal: the first night, I go to a five-hour class where I learn all about riding one of the beasts. I think I take a test at the end of the class, too - we're given a workbook when we arrive. Then that weekend, I actually ride for five hours each day, rain or shine. That part of the class is on the blacktop of the school which is right next door to my junior high school. It'll be weird to see it - in fact, I'll be able to see my old locker from where we'll be riding. If I'm able to complete that part of the course to the instructors' satisfaction, I get a certificate which waives the riding portion of the DMV test. I just have to take the written test in order to get the designation on my license which allows me to ride them on the street. All this for a scooter. But it's approved by the CHP, and I felt it was necessary to learn how to ride correctly, especially since Idyllwild has changeable weather conditions. Besides, I'll ride the scooter for a few years and then get a motorcycle. Those Victorys are awfully wicked. ;)

Both Hubster and I went through illness last week, the above-mentioned items, and a number of other things which ate up all our time. The sale was a huge success, and we got a bunch of orders which we're still filling. They'll all go out tomorrow for those of you who haven't received them yet. I'm hoping the business really takes off after the IK ad; if it does that, then I'll hire someone to come in and help me with it. That way, orders will go out immediately and Hubster won't have to interrupt his work in order to help me.

So now it's off to get ready, slide on some nice warm sweats, and go get the tranks from Mom. We're going to need them tonight, especially since Emma will be charged up and ready to roll when we get home. I hate to dope her up, but she has to rest. It hasn't even been a week. I will admit that it's funny to watch the back of the couch from where I sit and see toys go flying into the air from one end to the next as she races up and down, gleefully grabbing everything in her path and demolishing them. She's got to lay down, though, or she runs the risk of popping her internal stitches. Besides, neither one of us can work if she's running all over the house.

I think I'll ask the vet if they also prescribe human tranks.

Sale Continuing Throughout the Evening

I just wanted to remind everybody that the 15% off sale is continuing throughout the evening with new vendors (and updates to existing vendors) being added at intervals. I thought it would be more fun to do it this way instead of listing everyone at once. Where's the fun in seeing everything at one time?

I also just found out that we have to submit a credit application for the house which we thought was a sure thing. We should hopefully have an answer by the end of the week. If it's a yes, then I'll be having a "We Got The House!!" sale!

Thank you to everybody who has made purchases or come to look. Your patronage is greatly appreciated by both myself and the artists I represent.

Bad News, Good News, and General Chit-Chat

What a couple of weeks. I can't believe that it's been so long since I last blogged. But boy... do I have dish for you.

First of all, Yarny Goodness will be having a one-day, 15% off sale on Monday, October 13th from 12:01 a.m. until 11:59 p.m. Everything in the shop is on sale, and we have a LOT of new artists and items to show you. I won't list anything - you have to go see for yourself. :)

Our vacation was wonderful - except for one thing. I'm no longer going to be putting out a CD or even participating in the concert. The man I was recording with had a shitfit over who knows what last night (he says it was because I didn't remit my half of the money due immediately; I don't believe a word of it) and sent me a really nasty letter, telling me that the whole thing was off, not to bother contacting him (even if I had a really good excuse, read: begging), and that he was through with me and both projects. Personally, I think he didn't want to share the limelight or display his shitty playing. That's okay. I'm over the tears and anger. He'll get his, and a lot sooner than he thinks.

That's a nice segue into my next bit of news. We just got the word that we're moving in January to Idyllwild (yes, that's the place we vacationed at and where that fucktard lives). He doesn't know we're moving, nor are we telling him. We'll wait until we run into him in town. It's not that big a place; we're sure to meet up sooner or later. Anyway, the house we're getting is incredible. It's three times the size of this one and sits on a half-acre. It's a tri-level (although it's listed as three stories, the stairs are short). There's an entertainment room downstairs with a fire pit, three decks which are tiered down the back of the house to the backyard (which is fully fenced so Emma can run around; one of the decks also has a carved wooden eagle sitting on it), a rock fireplace which goes from floor to ceiling (it's HUGE), a kitchen with all new appliances (again, it's HUGE) and two greenhouse windows, five bedrooms, up to four bathrooms (the one downstairs is unfinished, so that's something for us to work on), an incredible master suite, new hardwood and carpeting, some furniture (including two really nice couches - we need those - all the beds except for the master, and a dining room table with six chairs), skylights galore with shades that draw across them should you not want sunshine, built-ins in the two largest bedrooms (an office for Hubster and a studio for me), a wooden driveway (too cool!), a garage with a workshop area for Hubster's woodworking tools, a mudroom which you enter through the first front door with a stained glass door that leads into the house (it has an eagle soaring over the local mountains depicted on it, and the entire door is stained glass, not just an insert), blah blah blah. Houses up there seem to be named; the name of ours is "Eagle's Nest". And the best part? We've been negotiating on this house since we were up there the last time, even going so far as to put in an offer. We've been dealing with counters and re-counters since before we left for home. What we're doing is renting it for a year and then entering into a lease with the option to buy. Considering that we have a foreclosure on our credit, the owners have bent over backwards to accommodate us. Our rent is $600 a month less than what we're paying here. There is indeed a higher power who has guided us to this paradise. It will be the first time in almost 20 years that Hubster and I have truly been alone together with no family or friends nearby. We so need a change, and this is it. I think we're going to love it. As for the business, this doesn't affect it one bit. All that will happen is that the shop will be closed for about a week while we move and get settled, and then my mailing address will change. That's it, and that's part of the beauty of having a home-based business. We can do things like this, not being tied down to a brick and mortar. Whew!

Aside from leaving my family (even so, it's only an hour by plane out of Palm Springs to get home), I'll miss my boys at the prison. I must have finished my work with them, though, because I've been going less and less. I'll always remember them and love them, but it's time to move on. It's time to think of me and Hubster. It's time to concentrate on my marriage, my business, my life. This is definitely the place to do it. Hubster will telecommute like he does now, but if he does have to go in to the office, he'll fly there for a week and then come home. I'll be fine - I just have to learn to lay in enough groceries to last, since it does snow up there (and I've seen more snow on TV than I have in person). I also have to decide whether I want a scooter (like a Vespa) or a golf cart (they're legal to drive on the city streets as long as they're modified and are tricked out like a car). The cool thing about a golf cart is that this guy in town will customize it to look like any car you want, including a Vette. I may get my Vette yet. :) The T-Bird is for sale as we don't need two cars. The truck is far more practical because it has four-wheel drive.

Enough blathering about the house. As the time to move nears (January 1st), I'll be talking about it more, but we're two months away from it. Let's see... what else has been going on...

Emma is in heat. I found this out in a rather unpleasant way. There I was, sitting in the Monster, and she was wanting to lay next to me. Fine. So I let her up. She began licking my leg (nothing new), got a bit wound up, and began sucking the back of my knee. The next thing I knew, she was humping my thigh. ARGH!! NO NO NO NO NO!!! I had NO idea that female dogs did that kind of thing. Hubster was in hysterics; in fact, he had to leave the room because he was crying from laughing so hard. A couple of nights later, I extended my hand down to her to scratch her on the head. What I didn't realize was that she had raised herself on her back legs so I could scratch her tummy. Next thing I know, she was humping my arm. ICK ICK ICK!!!!! Not only is she doing those lovely things, she's barking a lot, having to pee like a racehorse, doesn't feel too good, and is a bit aggressive. Oh.. let's not forget her also humping my foot. Sigh.

She's getting spayed next Wednesday. If I live that long.

I've been working on a couple of pairs of new socks (now I'm going to need them - this is the first time I won't be able to wear sandals in the winter), and doing a lot of sleeping again. At night, I've been working on the shop. Hubster is Mr. Photographer; I'm Mrs. Fill In The Forms and Upload His Pictures. I don't mind it, even though I like to bitch about it (but then again, I like to bitch about everything). I might even knit a... a... (I can barely speak the word)... SWEATER. Holy shit. I haven't made one of those in ages.

I'm also selling the vast majority of my stash. It's all indie, all top-name labels. I'm going to list them in the shop rather than use the "destash" pages. They'll be cheap, too. I'm trying to unload as much as possible so we can use a U-Haul rather than a moving company. I still have to list that Creatively Dyed yarn - the ones I'm selling for $12 a skein. I know I said I was going to list them a few months ago, but... well, you know. I seriously doubt I can list everything before we go, but I can make a dent in it, anyway.

I also broke my Kindle. For those of you who don't know what it is, it's an electronic reader which you can download books onto from Amazon. Anyway, I kept falling asleep on the deck during this last vacation, and I dropped it just right on my ashtray. The screen got dented, the print on the screen went all wonky, and I couldn't turn it off. So I had to spend another $350 for a new one. I'm being a lot more careful with this one - Hubster won't buy me a third, and rightly so. He loves his, too, and since I don't think there's a bookstore in town (all the shops are small and funky - my kind of place), they'll really come in handy.

I think that's enough for one post. I'm exhausted and need to sleep before tonight's marathon shop-posting session. I'm not releasing any new work until the sale on Monday. I was going to do it on Sunday, but that sort of defeats the purpose of having it all be a surprise.

Besides, I'm a lazy bitch at heart.