Organizing My Knitting Stash

Part of this whole knitting process has been to pare down my stash, but the disorganization of it was driving me crazy. I didn’t know what I had and was blindly grabbing when starting a project. Also, I’m not well-versed in textures. I know what worsted and fingering weight are, but I was a little unclear on sport and DK, and the difference between chunky and bulky when it came to matching yarn with a pattern.

On Saturday night, I finally pulled my stash out to organize and catalog everything in my Ravelry account. I haven’t utilized Ravelry much in the past, but it occurred to me that if I had a record of all my yarn, figuring out what to knit would be a whole lot easier.

A mess of yarn: my complete stash as pulled from my closet.

When I first piled it on the bed, the project seemed daunting. I realized that my stash is nowhere near as big as those of some knitters. Mine fits in my closet, and I know people who have whole rooms dedicated to their stash. But I’ve developed a minor aversion to clutter, so even this little bit feels like it needs to be used.

The process really didn’t take as long as I thought it would. I found a process that worked for me, which included pulling 5 skeins at a time, taking pictures, logging them into Ravelry, then fitting them into one of my 2 bins. Some of the yarn, like the the scraps and acrylics, went into their own plastic bags and then into a cloth bag I had available.

The “after” picture.

Talk about feeling accomplished. The whole process took me about 3 hours, but there was also some time I spent winding some yarn, which, in hindsight, I probably didn’t need to do (and also triggered the idea that perhaps I could use a swift and ball winder sometime in the future). The challenge now will be to find projects to knit with the scrap yarn that I didn’t catalog, as I only put yarn I had information for in the Ravelry stash.

My organization project also yielded a bittersweet moment. Going through my stuff meant finally pulling out an afghan my grandmother started before she passed away. The partially finished granny square project and remaining yarn had been given to me, but I’d stored it away. At the time, the loss of my grandma was still tender, and I wasn’t ready to work on this.

It’s been several years since she passed, but strangely enough, the afghan still smelled like her perfume. It brought back some good memories, but it also made me really sad and brought to the forefront how much I miss her and my grandfather. But now that the hard part of facing the project is over, it’s now in my plans to finish it up and keep it as a reminder of her.

I’m setting a stash goal for the year. By the end of the year, I’m hoping to have all of my stash pared down to just the 2 tubs (no bags), and that includes anything I pick up at yarn hops and our new yarn store, which I’ll talk more about after it opens up. Let’s hope my current knitting frenzy evens out but keeps steady so I can use up some of that yarn.

A.

Writing at 9 Years Old

The year continues to be challenging, but I’m hanging in there.  This past weekend was spent  avoiding snow and cold temperatures and pretty much staying inside. We also stayed home on Monday, partially because of the conditions and partially because we were both feeling under the weather. Today was my first day back at work, and it felt like a Monday. Jon also got news of a wrench thrown into our budget plans for the next few months, so that was pretty disheartening. I’ve been depressed anyway, so I’m having a hard time going with the flow right now.

On a positive note for the night, it was chilly but not horrible, so Jon and I took a walk down Poyntz. I was in a funk, so I didn’t really stop to enjoy things, but being outside was somewhat therapeutic. We also attended a geocaching event at the mall. It was just a quick flash mob, but it gave me a chance to wear my jersey, which still doesn’t fit well, but I can put it on now. Progress!

One interesting thing I did this weekend was to read some of my old journals. Blogging really isn’t new to me, I just did it using pen and paper for years. Oh, and I kept it secret. Which is good, because the first journal I picked up to read was from my second semester in college, and boy…was I strange. I was angry and stressed, my priorities were completely out of whack, I had mean thoughts about everyone and everything, and I spent a lot of time “having fun.” I always remember college fondly. When anyone asks me, I truthfully say that I had a blast in my time at Lake State. But my journal reminded me that not everything was sunshine and roses. Of course, it was only a short time frame I was reading about because I tended to write pages and pages for just one night or one event. Still, it was a bit uncomfortable.

After traveling back to freshman year, I went even further back and pulled out my diary from third grade. Hilarious!  I talk about all kinds of important things, like what I had for lunch, who I hung out with at recess, the recap from the latest episode of Jem (because she was, and always will be, truly outrageous), and the boys I thought were cute (2/3 of the list was actors).  My favorite thing, though, was a story I started writing. Besides the content, it was funny to see that I’d very carefully written out every word, like I wanted it to look like it had been typed.

To perk myself up and to show what a goofball I was at such an early age, I’m going to share my story here. Feel free to skip if you’re not into the (word for word, I kid you not) creative writings of a nine-year old.

The Stranger – by Amanda S. 

A man in a black suit walked down the street. His pants were tight-fitting. His shirt hung loose around him. His black jacket was slung over his shoulder. His black boots were dusty. His shirt was tucked into his pants and his pants were tucked into his boots. His hair was black, and he wore dark sunglasses.

Nobody in the small town of Alonta, Michigan had ever seen him. Little did they know, he would become their worst nightmare.

Sue Antonio was daydreaming as usual on the job in the “St. Luey” coffee shop. She was an unmarried woman of 23. She was tall and slender. She had frizzy, strawberry-blond hair, and bright blue eyes. On either cheek, she had a small sprinkle of freckles. Sue worked in the St. Luey coffee shop from 9:00am to 12:00pm. She lived with her boss, also her best friend, Maria Maio.

Sue got payed well enough to buy herself a house. But she had come to think of Maria’s house as home, so she never left. 

Sue was the first to ever see the man. She was working late one night when he walked in. 

“Hello. May I help you?” asked Sue. 

The man sat at a stool near the counter. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll have a coke.”

She got him his coke, then leaned against the counter.

“What’s your name?” the man asked.

Sue was too wary to give him her name, so she said, “What’s yours?”

“I asked you first,” said the man, without even flinching. Sue didn’t like the way the man was looking at her. “Sue,” she replied, hesitantly. 

“Just call me Wolf.”

Epic, right?? Besides the fact that I think I’m describing Danny from “Grease,” I have no idea where I came up with this stuff! Also, do baristas really make enough to buy a house? Especially when they only work for like four hours a day? I really did spell it St. Luey, and I love the melodrama of “He would become their worst nightmare.”

I kind of want to write this as an adult, now. I’m pretty sure I already have some ideas of where to take this.

On that note, I’m cold and tired, so I’m going to shower and sleep. Hoping tomorrow is a better day all around.

A.

 

Reflections and Resolutions: 2013-14 Edition

It’s that time where we say good-bye to one year and welcome in a new year. I’ve seen posts on FB and Twitter of people hoping that 2014 is better, and I do know that some of my friends had a really horrible 2013. My heart goes out to them and I’m sending lots of good vibes and prayers that 2014 makes up for it.

For me, 2013 was a great year.

The biggest thing was that my health and fitness levels improved about 110%. I know I’ve gone on about this a LOT, and I’m sure anyone who reads this is kind of tired of hearing it, but I’m damn proud of myself! Seriously, it sucked trying to get back to the level I’m at now. The pain sucked, the frustration sucked…it was not a happy time. But once I got a few things figured out, things eventually started happening, and now I feel great. Granted, it’s a daily process. I still have pain, but I can usually work through it. And when I can’t work through it, I’ve managed to fight the all-or-nothing mentality that used to say, “Well, you couldn’t make it to the gym today. Time to give up completely.” I would say that besides the physical improvement, I’ve gotten a boost in mental and emotional health as well.

I also got to travel, visit some cool places, see some cool things, and I gained a love of being outdoors. Jon and I took several trips and developed a love of museums and zoos. We started geocaching, which was a huge factor in getting us out and getting us active. Some of the scenery we’ve seen while caching has been breathtaking, and taking pictures of our adventures has been fun. These experiences often meant getting out of my comfort zone and doing something I probably wouldn’t have done in 2012, like attending Becoming an Outdoors Woman and hiking big hills.

I also successfully organized our local gaming convention, wrote two novels, won a set of knitting needles, started attending a local knit night, and accepted a new position at my job.

Going into 2014, I’m feeling optimistic, even though for the first time in a few years, things are a little bit unsure. With Jon graduating from college this month, his job plans are still undecided. He’s had several interviews, but nothing has been solidified yet. We don’t know if or when we’re moving and we have no idea where we’re moving to. We don’t know what he’ll be making. For all we know, six months could pass with no job offers. Any big travel plans will be have to be put on hold, and at some point we’ll probably have to tighten up the budget and let go of a few things. Still, I’m not anxious. I’m just excited to see what happens.

I’ve never been one for resolutions, but I have some definite goals for 2014.

1. Be able to run a mile by the end of the year

2. Walk or run a 5k

3. Do strength training at least twice a week

4. Try a spin class and/or Zumba class again

5. Finish novel revision and submit for publication

6. Read 70 books (Goodreads challenge)

7. Make it to Gen Con

8. Maintain organization

9. Attend more events and social functions

10. Do more Random Acts of Kindness

These might changes, and other things might be added, but this is my kick-off list. I want to get as much out of life as I can. I want to have experiences, and I want to be strong when things don’t turn out as expected. I want to get older and wiser, and I want to see as much of the world as I can…even if it’s just things in my backyard.

To 2014…I hope it’s the best year yet.

A.

 

Happy Christmas Eve

I hope everyone is having a great kick off to the holiday season. I know a lot of people don’t do much on Xmas Eve, but in my memory banks, the eve is just as important as the day itself. It was the day we celebrated with the extended family when I was young. We’d go to my grandparents’ house, and my uncles and aunts and cousins would be there. We’d have a big Italian dinner and lots of snacks and homemade fruit punch. There was homemade sweet cannoli for desert, and we’d spend the day watching TV, playing games, and at some point singing Christmas carols. I wasn’t always excited about the caroling, but I loved my aunt and grandma for getting us all to try it.

Christmas now is very different. My family is mostly in Michigan and with the coming of the next generations (and the loss of my grandparents, who I especially miss during the holidays), the extended family doesn’t come together anymore. This year, Jon and I will be spending Christmas together with no big plans and no gift exchanges. While this sounds sad, it’s really not. First of all, I love spending time with Jon, and this will just be another opportunity to do some fun stuff together.  Second, because we don’t know what the near future holds, we’re opting out of giving each other gifts, but since we gift each other little things through the rest of the year, it doesn’t feel like a loss.  In fact, when we find out where we’re going to end up, I figure we’ll be gifting ourselves with local museum, gym, and zoo memberships anyway.

I miss my family, but I’ll talk to them on Christmas Day, and I’ll be honest: I’m sometimes not the best person to be around when I get anxious. Even though I don’t spend holidays with them, when we visit during non-holidays, I’m much better and not so stressed, and without the stress of the holidays, I tend to think the quality of our time together is higher.

So that’s my Christmas Eve story, and though it sounds like a bit of a downer, I’m actually really okay this season. Which is a plus, because the holidays can be a sad time for a lot of people. Now…onward to what I’ve been doing.

Yesterday was another bitterly cold day, but we braved it to make it to the gym. I got a much better workout in than I did on Sunday, doing treadmill walking intervals and finishing out with some of the sit down stepper (which is what I’m doing for my arms until I get my nerve up to get back into strength training). I started Season 2 of Zombies, Run and completed the first mission. I’d like to run the chases, but I’m barely comfortable walking on the treadmill, much less jogging it. I’ll wait until I can walk outside again.

Back at the Fortress of Forsh, we had a pot roast dinner and caught up on American Horror Story. Later, Jon watched The Man with the Iron Fists, which I found amusing, though I was trying to watch bits and pieces of it and read my book at the same time. I managed to finish my book before calling it a night. It was good, but I thought it had a sad ending.

Work today went by fast, partially because there was a lot to do and partially because they let us out early. Though we had big plans to go out and look at lights, we just stayed in. I have no regrets. Tomorrow is Christmas and we’re seeing a couple of movies, so our window for light gazing is still open. Plus, it’s supposed to be warmer tomorrow. Tonight, I’m on a reading kick. I finished one book and will likely finish another one before I fall asleep. I tend to get in a reading mode towards the end of the year. There’s no way I’m going to meet my 2013 Goodreads challenge, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be signing up again for the 2014 one, still aiming to read 100 books (even if I fail…again).

Hopefully I’ll have some fun light pics to share tomorrow! Until then, Merry Christmas!

A.

Road Detours and Farm Memories

I’m behind a couple days, but I will get everything posted. Tonight we’re chilling with movies at the house, and we’re currently watching Cabin in the Woods, one of my favorites. Mom hasn’t seen it, so she’s getting her first viewing in exchange for her showing us the movie Frankie Go Boom. It was hilarious. If you’re a fan of Sons of Anarchy, this will either make you laugh or deeply disturb you. But now, since I’ve seen CitW, I’m going to get the Saturday post up while it’s on.

The drive to Oklahoma was long, as expected, and geocaching made it longer. I welcome the stops to stretch my legs and keep my tailbone from hurting, but sometimes it just makes the day longer.  We started with a DNF, then recovered with 2 finds in Tonkawa.

Later, after getting on the turnpike, we attempted to find another one (it turned into another DNF). We thought it would take us back to the turnpike, but instead, it took us through a series of small Oklahoma towns. I was a little cranky about this at first, but the random change in route lead is through some great scenery and an impromptu stop for some peanuts at a roadside stand.

Look at that Oklahoma red clay!

We tried coated Israeli peanuts that were delicious. We also picked up some buffalo flavored and Japanese peanuts. I’m not a fan of buffalo flavored anything, but I helped put a hurt on those other two.

The wildlife was out that day. We saw a coyote, a deer, and a road runner.  I’d never seen one before, and he was adorable. My mom had seen one that day too, and my grandma said they’d been more social lately. I would have got a picture, but he took us by surprise and was pretty quick.

We relaxed at my grandma’s for a little bit and had some dinner before heading out to see my aunt and uncle on “the farm.” The farm isn’t a family farm anymore, but I have really good memories of visiting there when I was a young kid, of spending time with my great grandparents, helping my grandma collect eggs from the chicken house, and playing with the farm cats that ran around the property.  I remember a mean rooster than attacked me and my grandpa’s cattle dog who didn’t like me very much (though older family members say I wasn’t nice to her as a child, so I think that was probably understandable).

The farm house and several of the buildings are still standing, so we took a walk around to look at everything and take some time with the memories.

  

One of the local farmer’s still farms cows in the fields, and we were able to walk right out into the field with them to take some pictures.  Whenever we’d turn around, there was a group of them keeping an eye on us, like they were just daring us to make a sudden move. They were cute.

We also visited with my aunt and uncle for a long time. Visiting the farm is always bittersweet. There are so many good memories, but they’re of lost loved ones, so with the reminiscing always comes sadness.

After we were done there, we decided to try to find a nearby cache, but like some of the other caches in Oklahoma, it wasn’t as “nearby” as we would have liked. We didn’t end up finding it. It got dark, so we headed back to grandma’s to get some sleep before the drive back the next day.

A.

The Smell of Snowmobiles

Today, I had a scent-memory moment on my way home from work. I was behind a vehicle that had the distinct smell of gas mixed with oil, and it made me remember snowmobiling when I was a kid.

I remembered riding snowmobiles on the acreage owned by various members of our family. I rode with my friends, my siblings, my cousins. I was young, but I could usually handle myself. Unless I got stuck, which happened a few times. Or unless I tipped the snowmobile, which happened a few times. But mostly it was just fun. I’d ride around the property, using the long trails to open it up and go faster.

When it was a family thing, we’d end it by watching movies or having a hot dog roast with hot cocoa and marshmallows. On holidays, we’d play games or cards afterwards, but even later at night we’d suit up and head out again for a night ride. I remember one of the coolest things to do was to be able to go riding with my dad and my aunts and uncles. I was a kid, so anytime I got to stuff with the grownups I was excited.

It wasn’t just the good memories that brought about the feels today, but it was also the realization that it wasn’t just summer that gave me great memories. Winter did, too. I just lost them over the years and in the scramble of all my other feelings for winter, mostly ones of hate for the cold, snow, and ice, and in seeing winter as the enemy.

Winter gave me a lot of things to love: snowmobiling, hockey, sleepovers with friends (I remember more winter ones than summer ones) a chance to cool off during college parties. Even remembering snowy nights at college where I stood outside smoking with friends gives me a happy feeling of nostalgia.

I don’t hate winter anymore. Sure, I complain about the snow and ice when it stresses me out while driving, and I’m known to swear at the cold (though I could help that if I’d break down and wear a hat and gloves). But in the past few years I’ve learned to appreciate the beauty of it and the natural order of time that brings the season.

And being able to remember the past happiness winter gave me makes it that much easier.

Ode to a Woodchuck

Okay, this isn’t actually going to be an ode or a poem or anything creative. I just wanted to post a picture of this bottle of Woodchuck Hard Cider (Granny Smith). This was the first of a six pack. I have three left and plan on actually drinking them before they go skunky, something I sometimes forget to do when I buy alcohol.

Woodchuck reminds me of Michigan, but I don’t remember ever drinking it in Michigan. If I did, I never went through a phase. There were other phases: Amaretto and Coke, Amber Bock, Triple sec and OJ, anything with grenadine added. Malibu. But Woodchuck didn’t happen for me until I moved to Oklahoma, and then it only happened once.

I’m still not going through a phase. I just picked this up for drinks and gaming with friends. But that nostalgia is still there. I don’t know where the connection comes from, but I’m loving it. Definitely worth a six pack of good feelings.