FemiKnitMafia

The mitten-in-progress learned some Economics tonight

What mitten, you ask? Flying under the blogdar, it’s Austermann Step (the yarn with Aloe Vera and JoJoBo Oil in it) that was intended to be a sock for those first couple inches of ribbing, and suddenly screamed out to be a mitten. What can I say? I do what the yarn tells me.

How’s this for sexy?

It’s especially sexy when you note the pile of crap on Wifey’s bedside stand (I’m not trash-talkin’ here. mine is equally gross), the half-scraped wallpaper behind the lamp (which represents every wall in our bedroom), the Wall Street Journal on my computer, and lesson plans on Wifey’s computer. Yeah, we’re hot.

1. Bats

Not rabid. Which makes feel guilty for having them killed tested. Before my town would finally agree to have them tested for rabies, I had to trap them. This is no small task, but I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar!

Clearly I’m a tough chica, because the local Health Dept. guys were still jumpy when I handed the bats to them in sealed tupperware containers. Pansies.

The Bat Exclusion company says we have a colony in the attic, and they’d be delighted to help me part with several hundred dollars to evict the colony. Shit!

2. Friends

Seriously, Fiber Revival was the best day ever. Go see Maryse, Cheryl, and Adrian’s beautiful photos. I taught a woman to knit, and while I was teaching her to cast on, she told me that she wanted to learn because her 3 year old son has muscular dystrophy, a degenerative disease with a terrible prognosis, and she needs a hobby to keep her mind off his health problems. Whoah. All hail the power of wool.

3. Grad School

I got a decent score on the GMAT. I got in, as of today. They offered me a merit scholarship, and I negotiated for a shitload more. Classes start on Saturday. Yes, as in 4 days from today.

4. Wheel

I bow to the beauty of Craigslist. Antique wheel - $50. She’s wicked cranky but functional, and she has a story to tell (like me!).

I returned from the seller’s house with a fresh bantam egg, german shorthaired pointer paw prints on my capris, slate-colored arabian horse drool on my shoulder, and baby chick pee on my left hand. Her home is idyllic! More details later.

*so sorry that i’ve been so terrible about emailing lately.

Last night.

11:45 pm: Wifey wakes up to our docile kitty Grace growling and jumping around in Little Man’s bedroom. Then she hears the tell-tale sounds of a bat.

11:45 & 30-seconds pm: Yours Truly, self-appointed leader of The Feminist Mafia, and protector of pansy-ass-Wifeys worldwide, discovers TWO bats in Little Man’s room. One under Grace’s paw. One circling the new light fixture. I scream like a little girl, grab the boy, and run back to our room.

11:55pm: Heart still racing, I re-enter the war zone. I gather my courage and perform a Xena-howling-back-flip (watch from the 1 minute mark). While the cat holds the bat down, I throw a plastic washpan over it. Yes, Batilda is trapped! But where is Stellaluna? I return to base camp to assess the situation.

12:05am: After creeping around the entire house with my sword held high a broom, I hear the cat again. She’s standing on Little Man’s bed, and meowing at his curtains. If she could, she’d be standing there rolling her eyes, pointing to the window and saying, “dumb ass, it’s right over here.”

12:05-12:30am: Wifey is practically pissing herself with laughter on the -outside- of Little Man’s door while I’m engaged in mortal battle with Stellaluna. The bat circles my head, I swing the broom and shriek. The bat circles my head, I swing the broom and grunt. The bat circles my head, I swing the broom and curse. And so on. Finally, I stare deep into Stellaluna’s beady little eyes and say “I’m gonna kick your ass.” Thankfully Wifey is laughing so hard that she doesn’t hear that line.

12:30: There’s a glitch in Stellaluna’s sonar and I finally knock her out of the air and trap her under a basket. Yes! But what now?

Our local Police Department, entirely unhelpful (as usual).
Me: Can I get an Animal Control Officer over here to pick up a couple bats that I found in my son’s room so I can get them tested for rabies?
PD: Ma’am, did the bat bite your son?
Me: I don’t know, he was sleeping.
PD: Well, did you wake your son up and ask him if he was bitten by a bat?
Me: No, he was sleeping. If a bat bit him and he realized that a bat bit him, the entire neighborhood would know it.
PD: Can you see any bite marks on your son?
Me: No, but do -you- know what a bat bite looks like? [resisting the urge to say, "well let's see, there are two small circular wounds on his neck that are swollen and oozing a slightly green substance, and there's a tall pale man standing in the corner."]
PD: Ma’am, did you see the bat bite your son?
- - ad nauseum - -

Long story short, the bats are still alive and trapped in Little Man’s room (11:30 am). The local Police, Animal Control and Conservation Offices were all complete a-holes when I called them this morning, so I called the State Department of Public Health, who assured me that I did the right thing, and that Batilda and Stellaluna should both be tested for rabies.  Supposedly someone will come to my house to get the bats today.

I made an appointment with a Bat Exclusion company for Monday.

And I’ll be buying some lumber to make a bat house this weekend. I’ll even apply a fresh coat of paint, pay for utilities, and provide free parking if they sign the lease.

And docile kitty Grace, the hero of the house, got an extra scoop of Cat Chow this morning.

She’s Baaaaaack! And happily snoozing away. Or is she a new friend?

Stay tuned … the dusk is near.

ETA: Apparently WordPress won’t let us embed You Tube videos either. If you’d like to see more of Stellaluna, click here and tip your head to the left. [sorry, I'm a first time You-Tuber.]

This is for Mel, and anyone else who’s interested in bats. Here’s what I learned tonight:

1) If you turn the light off, bats will move around. Light on: stillness. Light off: movement. and so on.

2) Bats don’t understand that bloggers need light to take pictures and video.

3) Bats wake up like the rest of us: twitch, stretch, bathe (aka lick various body parts), eat, and fly out of the house.

4) Bats clean themselves just like cats. They lick, lick, lick, and then do that cool lick-my-foot then rub-my-head thing.

5) They have five fingers on each hand/foot. Each finger is opposable. Think about that.

6) Their wings are almost translucent, and crinkly - exactly this shirt I almost bought at J. Jill.

7) My bat is named Stellaluna.

7) She’s a brunette.

I intimidate her. I left the room for one freakin’ minute and she was gone. I should’ve left the spotlight on.

G’night Stellaluna. Go find your Mommy.

Every once in a while, I long for a job that requires physical labor. I dream of leaving my cushy desk job to pursue carpentry, landscaping, or my favorite fantasy job — masonry, specifically stone masonry. Perhaps it’s the quilter in me, but I love building something beautiful out of small ordinary items. I love the process of selecting the next piece, and of moving pieces around until the colors and shapes blend just right.

The problem is: while I’d love being a professional mason, the business would fail horribly. I’d spend way too much time standing back and squinting at the job, and my projects would take forever to complete. And as I discovered this weekend, I do not enjoy horizontal stone projects.

First stop — Saturday evening — the entire clan of Wifey’s gay sisters (there are now 4 out of 4 on that side of the family) plus partners (me & one other) gather to install a small flagstone patio in my step-father-in-law’s teeny Boston backyard. Yes, that makes 6 lesbians, one small urban backyard, several shovels, dirt, stones, one tamper, and several tattoos.  [stop drooling]  With little or no drama, a couple hours later, there was a patio. We still have to buy and plant a truckload of irish moss to fill in the space between the stones, but that’s a project for another weekend. Even without the moss, it’s pretty.

Next stop — Sunday — It’s 10am and I’m already bored. All spring, we’ve discussed putting a stone patio underneath our pergola, but haven’t had the time or inclination. Yesterday, for whatever reason, we decided to install the patio. I started digging and Wifey drove off in search of stones. We dug and leveled and toiled and measured and arranged and re-arranged. Many hours later, Wifey went back out for 4 more stones, and I was left to work on leveling everything. Perhaps I was sun-fried, but I could not get the stones level. Under any circumstances. It was horrible. After an hour, I nearly threw myself on the stones. Luckily Wifey came home, sent me inside with Tylenol and Diet Pepsi, and Little Man asked me to play with blocks (mainly I just laid on his bed, moaned, and encouraged his castle building). While I wallowed, Wifey finished the job. We still need to move the excess dirt and plant a flat of creeping thyme that will grow the fill the space between the stones, but for now, I keep standing back and staring.  Isn’t it pretty?

Perhaps I’ll stick to vertical stone masonry from now on.  Anyone need a retaining wall?

* if you’re interested in our veggie garden, there are tons of new pictures in my Flickr garden set.

It wouldn’t be fair to tell this story without starting with one simple fact — I am absolutely terrified of spiders and Wifey always kills them for me.

Okay, with that out of the way, Wifey discovered her own phobia tonight: she’s terrified of bats. The scream that came out of this woman’s mouth was un-freakin-believable. Poor Little Man was just finishing a long sit on the toilet too, so he jumped up with his jammies around his ankles. Wifey was practically crawling up the wall.

[ insert hero music here ]

Mafia to the rescue!

*yes, I wear men’s boxer shorts to bed. shut-up.

Of course, I had to take a close-up before the terrified little creature of the night flew away. Thankfully little Batilda held still for her centerfold shot.  Isn’t she cute?

I can’t say for sure, but there may have been one or two “I vaaant to suck your blood” jokes tonight.

On Sunday, Little Man turned 4 years old, so we threw a big party. While the primary purpose of my vacation last week was to prepare for visitors, I was less productive than I planned. Perhaps my list was too long? Anyway … here’s the story in photos.

Handmade invites by Wifey

What do you do the night before a party?

You don’t remove a toilet? Well why not? Doesn’t this look like fun?

Since that last photo was not terribly flattering, this is simply proof that MafiaBro has a nice rear:

How many Mafias does it take to paint a bathroom?

The next morning, we hauled a$s to finish the castle. For those who are interested, I present:

How to Build a Castle in 10 Steps or Less

1) Rebuild your pergola: those rotting beams that are broken and sagging in the middle under the weight of that ancient grapevine will not win the hearts and minds of other parents. [new pressure treated wood=$90]

2) Buy white sheets from Goodwill. [$6]

3) Dye them with “pearl gray” RIT dye. [$8]

4) Cut a stencil out of poster board. [$2]

5) Buy 4 cans of gray spray-paint and use the stencil to paint the block imagery. [$8]

6) Cut the castle top out of cardboard & spray-paint it gray.

7) Send your Bro to the ‘Po to get a staple gun and don’t let anyone else play with use your new toy tool as you staple the sheets and cardboard to the pergola. [$20] Borrow an artistic soul (MafiaMom) who feels that colorful flags are necessary. Stand and watch while they paint two pieces of felt with Elmer’s glue to stiffen the felt, cut the triangles and attach the flags two small dowels.

9) Cut windows in random places.

10) Sit down and drink a beer while your kid goes nuts.

Ta Da!

** if you do this project, I have one suggestion — start early! When you wait until the last minute, your family will be stressed, and you’ll owe your Mom and Bro something big!

In any case, it’ll be a big hit.

Even the dog will think it’s cool.

To further the notion that Wifey is Martha Stewart [have you ever seen them in the same room at the same time? yeah, me neither], here’s the spread that she prepared while I was dicking around in the god damn yard building the castle.

Do you see the Little Man hiding under the table with his Tord Boontje t-shirt? The cycle of favorite t-shirts [freezer paper stencils + Mombian’s “one of my moms is blogging this” t-shirts) makes a crafty blogging mama proud.

Speaking of Mombian - we were delighted that Dana & Co. came to the party, had a blast, and brought a brilliant present. Seriously. Go make a PVC pipe construction set.

And speaking of kids presents, I made a new freezer paper stencil for Grace’s 4th birthday. Most of the design is free-hand, but I traced the outside flower lines from What’s This?, a beloved Barefoot Books book. If you don’t know Barefoot Books, go now. Quickly.

Her t-shirt was part of a garden themed gift. I tried to find What’s This?, but it’s not available at the big box bookstores near my house, so Eric Carle’s The Tiny Seed was a great substitution.

It was a fabulous weekend of happy people all around!

Stay tuned for a knitting & fiber update tomorrow.

Perhaps I’ve mentioned that I’m a tad destructive. I LOVE demolition. Just ask any of the 500 new homeowners that I regularly beg for a spot on the DIY demo team. Perhaps my enthusiasm is scaring them, ‘cuz I’m never actually invited.

This week. This week of vacation. Of lists and goals and priorities. Yeah, right.

On Day 1, I ditch the list and start tearing up the back yard. Wifey came home from work and said “oh.my.god.what have you done?” After hiding in the house for about 20 minutes, I crawled out, ready to face the storm — and blamed it on our elderly neighbor. “Well he said that our vegetable garden would get more morning sun if we thinned the back a little…” Who could resist such temptation? I couldn’t.

This is one of 3 piles

This is one of 7 trips to the recycling center. It’s a Passat wagon, and I can fit 5 of those tall brown paper yard waste bags in there. You do the math.

Mind you, while I’m paying penance hauling brush, Wifey’s happily chopping and tying. From my piles, she fashions a woven fence and a garden gate.

Thank god she’s around. She creates beauty from my destruction.

Knitting = a couple rows here and a couple rows there.

Spinning? Only if you call this spinning:

Note to self: you don’t know how to spin, so you’re not ready to watch a movie and spin at the same time, not matter how stupid the movie. Signed, The Mafia.

Last night, I dragged Danielle to NH with me to meet a wheel, get a spinning lesson, and play. Terry brought two wheels for me (Cheryl’s Ashford Traveller and Julia’s Ashford Joy), and since Danielle won’t get her loaner wheel for a little while, I decided to share. Upon arrival, Cheryl & Terry got to work setting up the wheels, pulling out practice fiber, and guiding us through those awkward first moments. Cheryl sat with me, drafted while I treadled, treadled while I drafted, and reoriented me when I made spirally telephone cord. Apparently I’m a little high strung [who knew? read: deep sarcasm], so I was treadling too fast.

I got to watch a bunch of very experienced women spin, knit and chat, but I was completely awed at the little tiny charka that someone brought along. I’ve never seen one in use before, and it was very interesting.

After playing at the wheel for 2 hours last night, I burned through 2 ounces of beautiful Ward Brook Farm roving that Cheryl shared with me, and after another 1/2 hour today, I burned through nearly an ounce of Ward Brook Farm roving that I bought last year.

See … my first handspun yarn! At the very right edge of the bobbin you can see the beautiful red+purple that Cheryl brought for me, and the forest+pink+maroon is my roving that I spun this morning.

At this point, I wonder how long it’ll take to work through my miniature fiber stash.

Long before I knew the wheel was coming to my house, I planned to use some vacation time this week, so I’ll be home home home for the next 10 days with a new toy toy toy. Hip hip hooray!

I got a little light reading for the vacation. We LOVE the library at ChezMafia.

Because I love the cover afghan of Cables Untangled, choices for my SockPal, to pick a swatch for The Walker Treasury Project, and to help me with the finishing details on the Baby Dale (a lofty goal).

Other plans for vacation:

1) finish the grape arbor/pergola before Little Man’s birthday party on the 27th.
2) spin every day (i.e. zen it up)
3) work on the Dale
4) photograph the stash for Ravelry
5) work on the downstairs bathroom before visitors arrive and need to use it (eek!) — finish painting walls; paint ceiling; paint beadboard; disconnect the toilet, remove remnants of old flooring & replace wax ring; sand & paint floor (a stop-gap measure).
6) post an update to the upstairs bathroom saga (since I’ve heard from more than a couple people that they’re anxiously awaiting the end of that story — who knew?)
7) post the “dick swinging at the plumbing supply house” story.

Now that spring has finally graced us with her arrival, I come home from work to find Wifey and Little Man lounging in the hammock below the flowering pear tree.

And on the other side of our yard, the apple blossoms have appeared.

This is perfection.