Poll: on a scale of 1-10 . . . .

. . . . just how crazy would I be to cast on a new baby project? What if it were a blanket? And son-thingy were due in just three short weeks?

Keep the following in mind:
1) the blanket is made of light fingering weight yarn.
2) The three weeks before Sweet Pea's birth, I made an adult sized sweater, a whole lace stole, and a third of a second lace stole.
3) the three weeks before Sweet Pea's birth I didn't have a 2 year old to entertain.
4) the three weeks before Sweet Pea's birth I DID have to work . . . well, some of it, anyway.
5) Friday is my last day of work this go-around.
6) I have a history of getting sick of blankets and abandoning them partially finished - only to get guilty and finish them months, if not years, later.
7) This blanket is made of Lorna's Laces, in a really enticing colourway - Zombie BBQ. It makes it even more fun to work on. The yarn is delicious! Plus, wrapping my son in something called Zombie BBQ makes me gleeful.

So . . . I cast on for the blanket this morning. And I got 2 inches in, checked my gauge, and ripped it all out again. I've gone up a needle size - still don't have stitch gauge, but it's close enough at 24 st/4" as opposed to 22 sts.



I'm hoping to have it done by the boy's birth day. We'll see. The centre panel seems like it'll go quickly. I'm using some mods to make it half sized. That should help!

So, what do you think? Am I crazy??

Peeves: pet and otherwise. Warning: do not read if easily butthurt.

I think I'm going to have to avoid Facebook tomorrow. I'll explain why - Remembrance Day. Yup, it's important to remember the sacrifices of soldiers and civilians young and old. Yup, it's important to honour our past. Lest we forget? Don't make me laugh. We've clearly forgotten. Have a look at all the conflict and war in the world today. Lest we forget is about more than the graves of those who have lost their lives - it's about not repeating the mistakes and horrors of the past . . . and yet . . . Genocide? Check. Murder? Check. Inexcusable crimes? Check.

War? Lots of it? Check.

Makes me shake my head. Here are all these citizens wandering about with their token poppies, spouting off about their grandparents and their contributions to WW1 and WW2 - and completely neglecting to REMEMBER.
Please understand, I'm not out to disrespect our veterans. I'm not scoffing at my rights and freedoms. I'm just saying . . . who remembers anymore? Does anyone?
So tomorrow I may need to avoid Facebook, so as not to 1) lose any friends, or 2) start any flame wars. There are sure to be arm loads of trite and tired status updates. This here? This is my blog, I feel safe expressing myself here.

Other peeves lately include (but are not limited to):
1) Hypocrisy over obvious shit. Especially prominent in town on garbage day. We've just started a green bin program here in town. For those of you not familiar with 'green binning' it's a program where your household waste that isn't garbage (ie. facial tissues, food scraps, etc) is taken to a facility for composting. We're talking stuff that can't go in your back yard composter. Meat. Bones. Pretty much anything that isn't plastic. Good idea, right? Reduces landfill while creating a sustainable, green source of energy. What kills me is the sight of these green bins lined up along the streets all proud and smug . . . right next to the 'NO BIO WASTE PLANT' signs on some of the lawns.
Recently, a bio waste plant was proposed for the town of Elmira. It's meant to be right on the edge of town. People are freaking out about this. It's going to stink. It's going to promote lots and lots of noisy truck traffic. NOT IN MY BACKYARD WHARRRGRBL!!! The dude who runs the plant (or will be running the plant) has released a statement to the paper outlining that really there will be a handful of trucks a week, and that if the plant is smelly then they're losing the energy they're trying to harness - they'd be doin' it wrong. No dice. Elmira is still wharrrgrbl-ing. Seriously people - where do you think the contents of your oh so friendly green bin go? To a bio waste plant. Dur.
2) Smug-ass pregnant women. I am, as you know, pregnant myself. Nothing bugs the hell out of me like a smug-ass pregnant woman. The kind who won't get off her delicate tushy to get herself a glass of water if her fucking life depended on it. The kind who are more precious and important than everyone else in the world because they are creating life! Bitch, it's been done before, by countless women, countless generations and you are not so shit hot for getting knocked up. You're not special. I try, when pregnant, to have outside interests and maintain some semblance of an interesting life. When someone asks what I did on the weekend, I like to have something to say aside of 'admired my belly and considered the specialness of my fetus - have you seen this stretch mark over here?'. There are some boards/online groups I frequent that make me bananas. I had to leave all but one of them, actually . . . for fear of shooting my mouth off and making enemies. Now the one group I have left is making my eyelids twitch. They are 37 weeks along maximum (all due in December this year) and have been talking for about 6 weeks now about the contents of their hospital bags, what labour comfort measures they'll be taking, etc, etc. Some of their labour comfort measures include: bringing karaoke/video game consoles to their respective hospitals, and my favourite yet "making love" while labouring. Best of luck to you, ladies. I can tell you right now my hospital wouldn't allow any of that shit. It's too noisy - it will totally harass the other labouring women. Further, you probably won't even want anything to do with any of that . . . since these women want natural, drug-free deliveries. Cripes.
Also, from the second you pee on that stick and learn you are pregnant . . . you don't need to ensure every conversation includes a reference to your impending child. I get it, you're expecting. Hearing about it constantly is aggravating to me. Imagine what it does to someone who wants kids and can't have them. Or to someone who is child-free by choice and feels judged for his/her decision. Knock it off already.

T-MINUS:

6 weeks. Of work. Max. Because baby is due in 6.5 weeks.

(This is the part where I freak out and flail and go WTH? and perform a small piece of performance art I call 'where did the time go and WHAT is coming out of WHERE and do I HAVE to wait 6 more weeks?')

Know what this means? Means I'm getting nesty. And none too soon. 6 weeks to due date means 4 weeks to full-term, and we have an awful lot to do. Sort of. I have been somewhat nesty before, but I usually a) turn it on Sweet Pea and sort her entire wardrobe by colour and functionality - much to her confusion or b) sit and fret because I am too tired to get off my sizable pregnant ass and do something!! On the upside, Sweet Pea's wardrobe is fully sorted and quite functional! On the downside . . . she has to be moved out of the nursery and in to her big girl room. This means a closet re-do.

Since son-thingy is baby #2, most of the urgent stuff is already done. Lots of the stuff I'd like to do isn't so urgent.
Urgent stuff:
Create a nursery. Check. Now to get Sweet Pea out of it.
Buy itty bitty diapers. Check. Frequent squeeing over said itty bitty diapers is also paramount. They are less than half the size of Sweet Pea's diapers. Awww!
Obtain tiny clothes. Check. I won't have to buy a damn thing for son-thingy until he's in size 6 mos. I think. (Except more diapers. And maybe socks.)
Pack hospital bag. Too soon. I'm waiting at least 2 more weeks for this one. Provided I can ignore the urge long enough.
Pack home birth kit, in case of raging snowstorm, or labour on Christmas Eve. Still too soon. See Hospital bag.
Not so urgent stuff:
Clean all the things! Probably won't. I'm a wretched, horrible housekeeper, and a lazy pregnant woman.
Freeze lots of meals. I've frozen enough meals that we had to break in to a fresh box of Corning Ware. I don't think we'll starve. I've been doing a fair bit of baking too.
Create a birth plan. Meh. Didn't bother last time, probably won't this time either.
Knit some more stuff?

And of course, we must remember to load the Giftmas crap on the wagon too. Fun, fun, fun. Busy days.