March 04, 2005
Mongolian 101
“Wow, it’s khüiten today. I’m totally daarch.”
Greek—or Mongolian—to you? Then click on over to Cuzzin Tom’s blog to start beefing up your Mongolian vocabulary. (Is it just me or, despite its Mongolian overtones, does the sentence cry out to be spoken in classic Surfer Dude?)
More importantly, go to Tom's blog for a satisfying and gratifying description of the F.I.R.E folks ooing and cooing over our Dulaan contributions! Which, if we read between the lines, means that they haven’t been able to resist opening the boxes, thereby breaking their own frickin’ rules. Ah, the power of knitting! Total world domination is indeed within our reach!!! (Maniacal laughter. Evil sneer. Twirling of mustache. Swirling of cape. )
Also on the Dulaan front, Dulaan-specific patterns are starting to pop up around the Net, which warms me cockles. So far there are two: Norma’s “Pinwheel Butthole Hat” (don’t look at me; let her explain it.) and Stephanie’s “Ken’s Hat.” The concept behind the “Ken’s Hat”—knitting something but contributing it to Dulaan under someone else’s name—opens all sorts of possibilities. Hell, if we all adopt this questionable approach to the project, why, I could double or triple the Brigade list! Only half of the people on the list would actually be knitting, but what the fu’. (I propose, by the way, that if anyone knits a Ken’s hat, that they contribute it under—or at least name it with—someone else’s name. I could knit the Stalker Angie Hat, Norma could knit the Lisa in Oregon Hat, Lisa in Oregon could knit the Bron’s Hat, Rachael could knit the Janine Hat, ad nauseum. Unless, of course, Stephanie, who has the final say, insists that they all be Ken's Hats, in which case he will instantly become the most prolific Brigade member of all time—without lifting a single dpn. Now, how does that work, exactly?)
Teasing aside, Norma, Stephanie, thank you for these great patterns. I will do my darndest to make one of each—once I get myself out of this awful hole I'm in now, where I have one project on the needles but have lost the pattern, another project on the needles but have realized I'm using the wrong needles and don't own the right ones, and one project where I have the right size of needles but don't have the right yarn and don't want to buy new yarn because I am trying to stashbust. My head is spinning.
This week we have also been astonished to learn that, despite its philanthropic and humanitarian goals, the Dulaan Project is, in fact, bad for your health. As you may recall, a couple of weeks ago, I made a fleece blanket. On a whim, and to occupy herself while she was watching the boob tube, The Mysterious K took the long strips of discarded selvage, folded them in half, and tied the two halves together over and over until she had a chunky, dense, worm-looking dog toy—which, as is the nature of dog toys, disappeared from and reappeared in a million different places in the house. Which is why she tripped over it yesterday and sprained her ankle. You know, that awful 90° sideways roll, complete with popping and crunching sounds? Yep, one of those. We I had a good laugh over this because, on the best of days, TMK is not the most graceful or sylph-like of creatures, which is why every night, when I’m at her house, I walk around and kick all the dog toys under things, under the couch, under the telephone table, under the kitchen table, under the recliner, so TMK won’t trip over them. I leave for one day...
Lastly, a note on comments: In my zeal to delete some spam, I may have deleted a legit comment from the last entry, so if you find your comment is missing, I’m vewy sowwy. Blame those dad-blasted spammers!
Knit on, Dulaaners!! Knit on!! And, not to leave out the folks who are making fleece blankets—Tie on, Dulaaners!! Tie on!