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August 2013
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October 2013

people are amazing

This, my friends, is what 31 pairs of mittens look like:

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Way back in January, when I had this kooky idea to make a mitten tree, I had zero idea what to expect. My fondest wish was to get 200 pairs, build the tree, donate the mittens, and raise some money for either a family-centric or gun control-centric charity. That was the "A" goal. My "D" goal, the reality-based one, was that I'd round up a few handknitted mittens, buy a bunch of cheap acrylic ones, and say I'd tried.

I'm starting to think the "A" goal is increasingly possible, however, because with only a little pushing on my end, mittens are a'comin' in. What will happen if I push a little harder? My hope is only good things.

So tell your friends. Tell knitters you'd like to have as friends. Tell your enemies, too, but manage your expectations.

I'd like to have as many pairs of green mittens as possible in my hands by October 31. Email me for an address, if you don't already have it.*

We can do this. We can warm the hands what need warming. 

*(If you're local and need yarn, I have some to hand out. Even if you're not local-local but might see me in the near future, holler. If you're stalking me, a) stop it and b) ask for green yarn.)


up with figs, hammock hang

Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective days mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch - either in illustration or word form - and the other would make a companion sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise might make both minds more nimble. Hopefully.


Hammock hang

Dear Lisa,

Your recent illustration (“hammock hang”) makes it clear that we couldn’t diverge more wildly when it comes to appreciating seasons. Don’t get me wrong; the piece is gorgeous. I’d put it on my wall if it didn’t represent “sadness about the end of summer laziness and a return to the hecticness of fall.” I can’t abide summer. By the end of August, I’m ready to chew through the heat and humidity and get some shit done already. 

If, however, this illo is a thickly veiled commentary on the plight of Syria vis a vis chemical weapons and Russian hanky-panky, well, then, I apologize.

Hugs, Kisses,

Me.

 

Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.


many things make a post

* I have had each of these crimes perpetrated against me, some more than once. Oh - and this.

* Which book would you add?

* Karl Seeley explains how economies are like ecosystems.

* What's killing poor white women?

* Helpful, I guess. Maybe. But also gross.

* The Guardian says what we're all thinking.

* A fundraiser I can get behind. (Disclosure: I am related to one of the organizers, which makes the cause no less worthy.)

* When we lived in Texas, I saw these every year and never understood what they signified. 

 


gratuitous corgi

I'm having one of those Mondays where I feel like I'm running very quickly in order to remain in the same place. Early today, I might have had a decent blog idea or two but they have since been drowned in the tsunami of the week. So, um, for Phyllis, who requested "more pictures of Lucy," I give you a picture of Lucy.

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Lucy, by the way, is being more helpful than the cats today. One of said felines just threw up all over my bed. Withhold your jealousy.

 


qotd, vocab lesson

"Fankle. He taught me a few useful, or at least good words, like fankle. Fankle is more or less a straight synonym of tangle, but it sounds better somehow. Particularly as applied to a fishing line that's got itself into a terrible, un-sort-outable mess, the level of shambles so extreme all you can really do is take a knife to it and throw it away. That's a fankle. Applies to lives too, obviously, though the knife approach usually only makes things worse."

-- Iain Banks, Stonemouth. So good.


the day has come

As of today, the kids are back in school. Can I get an amen?

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The Girl, who is now old enough to walk herself to her first day of middle school. (I know! Middle school.)

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The Boy, who is against the very idea of school but who will do it anyway because the consequences of not doing so are to dire to endure.

Hope your new year is moving along, too.


up with figs, nickelhenge

Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective days mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch - either in illustration or word form - and the other would make a companion sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise might make both minds more nimble. Hopefully.

Nickelhenge

Every couple of months, the kids spend some time with their grandparents up in the big city. We meet at a small town McDonalds that is almost exactly halfway between here and there. It’s in the pro-fracking part of the state and the many TVs in the place are always on FOX. 

Except today. But that’s not really the most interesting part of today’s drop-off.

There was an old guy parked at one of the tables. He was wearing old school hi-fi headphones and working on the New York Times crossword. Yes, in pen. Again, though, not the most interesting bit.

On the table in front of him were coins - mostly nickels but a couple of pennies, too - balanced on their edges with another coin flat on top, like some freaky change stonehenge. Which just goes to show you that wonder lurks everywhere or some such happy aphorism. Or that there is something truly weird with the gravity in that particular bit of the planet. Either could be true.

 

Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.




many things make a post

* A question I often ask myself -- What Would Willie Do?

* I love science that also involves day glow paint.

* Genre hopping with mandolin.

* "The world is big and full of best guesses."

* On parenting and choice.

* This cuts close to home. Guess which one I am?

* Ten simple points to help you understand what's going on in Syria.

* And that's a ride.

* Neat.

* John Oliver talks to Charlie Rose. Secrets are revealed. And laughs.


some labors

Today in the U.S., it is Labor Day, where we celebrate Unions and working. Because life is like that, I will be working, despite the fact that I am in a Union. My Union, however, will mark the occasion with snacks out on the quad. I shall grab my protest cookie between classes, hum a few bars of "Look for the Union Label," and teach. 

There were other labors this weekend.

One of the things I miss about Austin are the Czech communities between it and Houston. Specifically, I miss kolache. So I made some.

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Blueberry, this time. They turned out OK. The doughy part was a little tougher than I'd like but totally not a deal breaker. Maybe you have to know where Pilsen and Brno are in order to get the dough right.

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I've also been knitting. I'm surprised, too.

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This is the back of the Chimera Cardigan.  And, yes, there is a mistake in the cables, which I didn't notice until it was far too late to do anything about it. I can live with it, though. 

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Because how delicious are the rest of the cables? None more delicious.