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Note to self: make sure that next apartment is not, or at least not primarily, a western exposure. I think at least part of the reason my Muse is being so contrary lately is that the only time my "office" is even remotely inhabitable is late at night (when Mum is home, which kind of kills the mood because of the ever-present threat that she'll need something from the kitchen) and into the morning (which is generally the tail end of my activity-cycle, when I have been known to put random nonperishable objects into the fridge) -- during my primary productive hours, conditions are such that my options are limited to "sit in front of the fan and knit", and "bugger off somewhere that I can at least breathe the air". Not very conducive to Getting Any Real Work Done, or even much fooling-about on any of the Internets.
I did, however, manage to scan a few of the "...well, I'm not going to need the whole roll for this project" photos snapped during the process of preparing an entry to Knitty.com's upcoming calendar contest, so:
Weasel has apparently not heard the one about comporting herself with the proper dignity of a Siamese.
Snip watches me winding a hank of yarn (the pink stripe, upper left).
Snip did not want me to go to the Brandeis sale. (This year's excursion finally netted a copy of LotR... or two parts of it, anyway: my initial excitement upon uncovering three volumes that said "Tolkien" on the spines quickly turned to head-scratching when I discovered that for some mysterious reason they were one copy of book 1 and two copies of book 3. Bought 1 & 3 anyway, but still waiting to start reading until I can get my hands on the Two Towers... Anyone?)
The scene when Stooge, Stooge & Stooge came to repair a leaky pipe... that happened to be somewhere in the wall behind our kitchen sink.
I believe the next edition of the DSM plans to run this photo next to the definition for AD/HD. (For the record, there are only two people in this household.)
"Stretch him! ... That's it, stretch him!" The red lace scarf I was working on at WisCon being blocked to size. (Which procedure probably doesn't usually involve dental floss, nails, and references to Mel Gibson's torture kinks, but my apartment isn't large enough to pin things out on the floor...)
(The red scarf, BTW, is the subject of the above-mentioned photo-contest entry, although not that particular shot.)
I had some points to make about the bombing in London, but as the media appears to have decided that tragedies only count if they involve Americans and moved on to coverage of a hurricane instead, I suppose the moment's passed, hasn't it.
I did, however, manage to scan a few of the "...well, I'm not going to need the whole roll for this project" photos snapped during the process of preparing an entry to Knitty.com's upcoming calendar contest, so:
Weasel has apparently not heard the one about comporting herself with the proper dignity of a Siamese.
Snip watches me winding a hank of yarn (the pink stripe, upper left).
Snip did not want me to go to the Brandeis sale. (This year's excursion finally netted a copy of LotR... or two parts of it, anyway: my initial excitement upon uncovering three volumes that said "Tolkien" on the spines quickly turned to head-scratching when I discovered that for some mysterious reason they were one copy of book 1 and two copies of book 3. Bought 1 & 3 anyway, but still waiting to start reading until I can get my hands on the Two Towers... Anyone?)
The scene when Stooge, Stooge & Stooge came to repair a leaky pipe... that happened to be somewhere in the wall behind our kitchen sink.
I believe the next edition of the DSM plans to run this photo next to the definition for AD/HD. (For the record, there are only two people in this household.)
"Stretch him! ... That's it, stretch him!" The red lace scarf I was working on at WisCon being blocked to size. (Which procedure probably doesn't usually involve dental floss, nails, and references to Mel Gibson's torture kinks, but my apartment isn't large enough to pin things out on the floor...)
(The red scarf, BTW, is the subject of the above-mentioned photo-contest entry, although not that particular shot.)
I had some points to make about the bombing in London, but as the media appears to have decided that tragedies only count if they involve Americans and moved on to coverage of a hurricane instead, I suppose the moment's passed, hasn't it.