Well, diets of all kinds have been broken during this holiday season. And you know what? I don’t regret any of it. The Lindt candy, the piles of sugary, buttery side dishes, the enormous slices chocolate cream pie, the wads of cash lost at Foxwoods in a Christmas gambling frenzy, and the yarn oh the sweet, sweet yarn. Who knew that lil’ Jesus being born would be a great excuse for going hog wild and splurging with reckless abandon? His folks really should have gotten into the spirit by springing for a nicer hotel and worried about the bills later. There’s always room at the inn if you’ve got a little something extra for the front desk, know what I mean?

I hope a good holiday was had by all. Ours was pretty darned fantastic. Friday night, I made a gorgeous drunken rib eye roast rare (I soaked it in red wine for a few hours and it was great). Sides included honeyed peas with walnuts, butternut squash sozzled in butter and brown sugar, mashed potatoes whipped with butter and cream, green bean casseroled with fried onions, Pillsbury out-of-the-tube biscuits and crescent rolls, and fresh cranberry-orange relish with enough sugar in it to qualify as cranberry-orange candy. I think there was a salad, too. Poor, neglected salad.

Saturday, we headed to Foxwoods and hit the slot machines pretty hard. Unfortunately, they hit back. Jon was doing fairly well (meaning the hole he was digging was a bit more shallow than mine), but then I took some of his money and gave it back to the nice machine. When we got there, my parents went their way, and we kids went ours. When it was time for dinner, we met them by the giant fake ice sculpture of the Native American guy squatting precariously in a loin cloth. The buffet was too crowded, so we opted for a meal in one of the many restaurants. It was good, I had fresh linguine with clams in a white wine sauce.

My dad drove his giant old man car because the five of us fit more comfortably in there. He and my mom were in front while Jon, Charlene and I sat in back. Somehow I got stuck on the hump in the middle both ways. It was very odd sitting back there. I rarely ever sit in a back seat of a car any more. Even though the three of us are home-owning, career-having, fully-grown adults in our mid-thirties, sitting back there on a long car trip with Christmas carols playing made me feel like a little kid. I actually felt like I was being cared for, had no responsibilities and no say in how the day went. I guess at that point it was true. It felt good and strange at the same time. The helplessness of childhood is both liberating and suffocating. Of course, we didn’t help our position on the way home by giggling furiously back there. We were all tired and getting punchy. My dad couldn’t find the highway and had just about had it with us. You would think that being home-owning, career-having, fully-grown adults in our mid-thirties, we would be sensitive to his dilemma, having been there ourselves many a time. But no, we kept giggling (I’m telling you, it’s a nervous reaction. When people are upset, it makes me nervous and I start laughing). My father was always very patient with us and rarely loses his temper, but he hates getting lost and it totally unnerves him.

I did make it up to him by sharing the lovely apples and pears that came in the Harry and David Tower of Treats my boss (er, my boss’s wife, actually) sent me. Yummmm! I have forbidden Jon to eat the chocolates or baklava when I’m not around. He has been warned.

And now, for the unveiling of my new diet-busting yarn purchase. It’s from Danette Taylor, who does exceptional things with color. As much as I complain about variegated (why can’t I spell that the first time around yet?) yarn, hers colorways make me forget all about it. The Tropical Shawl I’m making is from her yarn and I love the way it’s coming out.

Please note that I haven’t received this yarn yet, so I will be gushing about it further when it arrives. The photos are the ones Danette provided on eBay.

May I present, for your viewing pleasure:

Loopy Mohair in colorway “Wacky” (I just got one skein enough for a scarf to liven up the winter doldrums)

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Superwash Merino in colorway “Cirque” (this will become a baby something-or-other for a coworker with a bun in the oven. 700 yds should be good for a baby blanket, right?)

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Fingering Weight Alpaca in colorway “Azaleas” (could you just faint from how pretty this is?)

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~sigh~ It’s just so beautiful. *wipes single tear from eye*

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Well, diets of all kinds have been broken during this holiday season. And you know what? I don’t regret any of it. The Lindt candy, the piles of sugary, buttery side dishes, the enormous slices chocolate cream pie, the wads of cash lost at Foxwoods in a Christmas gambling frenzy, and the yarn oh the sweet, sweet yarn. Who knew that lil’ Jesus being born would be a great excuse for going hog wild and splurging with reckless abandon? His folks really should have gotten into the spirit by springing for a nicer hotel and worried about the bills later. There’s always room at the inn if you’ve got a little something extra for the front desk, know what I mean?

I hope a good holiday was had by all. Ours was pretty darned fantastic. Friday night, I made a gorgeous drunken rib eye roast rare (I soaked it in red wine for a few hours and it was great). Sides included honeyed peas with walnuts, butternut squash sozzled in butter and brown sugar, mashed potatoes whipped with butter and cream, green bean casseroled with fried onions, Pillsbury out-of-the-tube biscuits and crescent rolls, and fresh cranberry-orange relish with enough sugar in it to qualify as cranberry-orange candy. I think there was a salad, too. Poor, neglected salad.

Saturday, we headed to Foxwoods and hit the slot machines pretty hard. Unfortunately, they hit back. Jon was doing fairly well (meaning the hole he was digging was a bit more shallow than mine), but then I took some of his money and gave it back to the nice machine. When we got there, my parents went their way, and we kids went ours. When it was time for dinner, we met them by the giant fake ice sculpture of the Native American guy squatting precariously in a loin cloth. The buffet was too crowded, so we opted for a meal in one of the many restaurants. It was good, I had fresh linguine with clams in a white wine sauce.

My dad drove his giant old man car because the five of us fit more comfortably in there. He and my mom were in front while Jon, Charlene and I sat in back. Somehow I got stuck on the hump in the middle both ways. It was very odd sitting back there. I rarely ever sit in a back seat of a car any more. Even though the three of us are home-owning, career-having, fully-grown adults in our mid-thirties, sitting back there on a long car trip with Christmas carols playing made me feel like a little kid. I actually felt like I was being cared for, had no responsibilities and no say in how the day went. I guess at that point it was true. It felt good and strange at the same time. The helplessness of childhood is both liberating and suffocating. Of course, we didn’t help our position on the way home by giggling furiously back there. We were all tired and getting punchy. My dad couldn’t find the highway and had just about had it with us. You would think that being home-owning, career-having, fully-grown adults in our mid-thirties, we would be sensitive to his dilemma, having been there ourselves many a time. But no, we kept giggling (I’m telling you, it’s a nervous reaction. When people are upset, it makes me nervous and I start laughing). My father was always very patient with us and rarely loses his temper, but he hates getting lost and it totally unnerves him.

I did make it up to him by sharing the lovely apples and pears that came in the Harry and David Tower of Treats my boss (er, my boss’s wife, actually) sent me. Yummmm! I have forbidden Jon to eat the chocolates or baklava when I’m not around. He has been warned.

And now, for the unveiling of my new diet-busting yarn purchase. It’s from Danette Taylor, who does exceptional things with color. As much as I complain about variegated (why can’t I spell that the first time around yet?) yarn, hers colorways make me forget all about it. The Tropical Shawl I’m making is from her yarn and I love the way it’s coming out.

Please note that I haven’t received this yarn yet, so I will be gushing about it further when it arrives. The photos are the ones Danette provided on eBay.

May I present, for your viewing pleasure:

Loopy Mohair in colorway “Wacky” (I just got one skein enough for a scarf to liven up the winter doldrums)

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Superwash Merino in colorway “Cirque” (this will become a baby something-or-other for a coworker with a bun in the oven. 700 yds should be good for a baby blanket, right?)

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Fingering Weight Alpaca in colorway “Azaleas” (could you just faint from how pretty this is?)

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~sigh~ It’s just so beautiful. *wipes single tear from eye*

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This was a post I started yesterday, but never actually finished. The death toll was at 44,000.

The recent earthquake and resulting chaos is mind-boggling. I mean, a tsunami? That’s the stuff that ancient myths are made of. I’m having a hard time imagining how large of a crowd 44,000 people is, and that’s the death toll so far. I did some googling to get an idea of how many people 44,000 is. It’s a hell of a lot. (search for 44,000 on these pages if you don’t see it right away)

It’s how many people showed up at a George W. Bush rally in Arizona
It’s how many people voted early in Georgia
It’s how many seats planned for the new Fenway Park stadium in Boston
It’s how many seats are in the new Comisky Park stadium in Chicago
It’s how many people went to see Bruce Springsteen in Finland
It’s how many NSync tickets went on sale in El Paso
It’s how many people die in highway accidents in a year
It’s how many people were expected to pass through Syndey’s airport on their way home from the Olympics
It’s how many people live in the city of San Luis Obispo, California
It’s how many people live in the city of Auburn, Alabama
It’s how many students there are in the Calgary Catholic School district
It’s how many students enrolled in Michigan State University
It’s how many students enrolled in Texas A&M
The death toll as of this morning is at 76,700 and I haven’t the heart to even try to fathom it. I want to say “How awful” or “It’s so tragic”, but words like awful and tragic don’t begin to describe the jaw-dropping magnitude. I think this is one of those times when only a visceral reaction accompanied by some indescribable noise from the back of your throat will suffice. It makes one acutely aware that in the end, despite borders and nations and ideologies, we’re all earthlings and live on this rock together. We see the same stars, the same moon, we breathe the same air, and are all subject to our planet’s shifting, shaping, rumbling, moving and changing. It’s downright humbling to know that we live on the Earth’s back on its terms.

Here is a list of organizations accepting monetary donations that I found on CNN’s website. Please do what you can to help your fellow earthlings.

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Good intentions gone bad isn’t that what the holidays are all about? Here at the Museum of Kitschy Stitches, we understand that it’s the thought that counts. What we don’t understand is just what on God’s Green Earth some people are thinking. Honestly, wouldn’t a simple card or a punch in the face suffice? We know we’d rather have our hamstrings sliced than get another lovely frock for the dishwashing liquid. But if there’s a not-so-special someone in your life that’s just not taking the hint from the restraining orders, perhaps some of the pieces in our Ho Ho Holy Crap Gallery will inspire you.

As ever, click on a picture to see larger version.

This festive wreath evokes all the charm and warmth of a toilet seat on a cold Christmas morning. Honestly, spend the $5 at the grocery store and get a real one. Or go into the woods to collect some fresh foliage and make one. Or steal one from the neighbors. Or buy a plastic one. Or hang a dead cat on your door. Anything but this.

Kids at the playground can be cruel sometimes. If you want to make sure they always are, knit your grandson a sweater that will earn him wedgie after wedgie. It’s yellow. It has a bear on it. The bear is a baby. The baby is wearing a diaper. A diaper. On a boy’s sweater. What the hell, grab a handful of underoos yourself once everyone is done opening their presents, perhaps it’ll be the makings of a beloved family tradition.

Pssst! When you told your sister that your wanted to make her a sweater for Christmas, she didn’t say “Oh, duck!”

Ding Ding Ding! We have a classic! For years, tissue cozies have darkened the doorways of people all around the world. Joyeux Noel, here eez a geeft for your tissues! Froehliche Weinachten, ve haf ways off making you keep your tissues cosy. Bono Natale, I hope-a you like-a the gift-a I bought for your-a Kleenex. Merry Christmas, I didn’t feel like spending any money on you or putting any thought into your gift, and I had all this cheap yarn to use up, so . . .

You know what this world needs? Fewer drunk rabbits in yellow pants ranting about the rising price of carrots and Medicare not covering the cost of his fake foot that those bastards thought was lucky – lucky for who, tell me that! – and another thing, I love you man. Merry Kizzm . . . kizzmu . . . kriszzmi . . . Happy Holidays ~belchhh~

So your nieces are well-adjusted and brimming with self confidence, eh? Makes you nuts, don’t it? Kids today need to learn that it’s not what’s inside that counts, it’s all about looks, baby. Size 0 clothing is on the rack for a reason, after all, and you’re not going to get on the Mtv by eating pizza. With this cool set of dolls, you can help them set those unattainable goals we all set for ourselves. This frumpy couple appears to be in love, but are they really happy? Do they look happy with those comfortably fitted clothes, oversized eyebrows, and outdated hair color? Click the picture to see what happened after they ate nothing but buttered beef for 6 months and subjected themselves to the ghouls at What Not To Wear. Zowie, now there’s a happy couple. Just don’t stand near them, they smell like rotting cows.

I am the Pom Pom King and you lesser Pom Poms will DO MY BIDDING! Go, my children, go into the night and bite the ankles of the unfortunate urchins who dared to receive me as a gift. They will rue the day they ever unwrapped that shiny, ribbony package and soon their delicious souls will be mine! Mwah ha ha ha haaaaa . . .

A lot of people thought it was cruel to conquer the planet of Floweria. Protesters were outraged when we captured and anally impaled its citizens for decorative purposes. But look how cute they are.

Live things are overrated and that’s why knitted plants are perfect. No challenge, no trying, no trying to try, no growth, no responsibility, no sense of accomplishment, no death. Isn’t that how life should be? Oh, and Happy New Year.

We at the MOKS were hesitant at first to include these Psychedelic Psnakes. They’re actually kind of cute. And therein lies their insidious nature. They’re almost cute enough to make. And when you give one to someone, you’ll do it out of genuine affection. They’ll even smile and say “How cuuuute!” when they open it. It will have prominent placement on the dresser for a while, but then it will start to be in the way. It will be moved to a shelf, but will keep rolling off because there’s not enough room. It will end up unknowingly kicked under the bed, where it will marinate in dust, old tissues, and toenail clippings. When it is recovered in 5 years during a frantic left-shoe search, it will be briefly mourned, maybe even dusted off a bit. And then it will be included in the next yard sale. To make it easier for everyone, please attach a price tag of 10 cents before wrapping to expedite the process.

In searching for items to enrich the Ho Ho Holy Crap Gallery, we came across a recurring theme among various craft patterns. It seems that whether you knit, crochet, sew, or just have a glue gun and some random offal around the house, you want to make a clown for someone. Yes you do. You do. Stop shaking your head and backing away and deal with the fact that because you are crafty, you want to make a clown. In just about every magazine we looked at, there are handcrafted clowns. Some happy, some crying, some evil, some disembodied, all wrong. And so in celebration of all things that would make the baby Jesus cry, we present for your dissatisfaction: A Very Clowny Christmas.

Hey, kid. When you go to sleep, I’m going to stuff you inside myself.

Now fussy babies can be scared straight!

Ooh, look! It’s Mr. Bear in his bow tie, Funky Monkey in his funny fez, and Conjunctivitis the Clown with his oozing eye infection. Let the puppet show begin!

At least some of these clowns are dead. And I have a pretty good idea who did it. Those live ones look pretty pleased with themselves.

This sanguineous fella is intended for decoration in a baby’s nursery. More specifically, for Rosemary’s baby’s nursery.

You may as well wrap a shiny new butcher knife with this lil’ treasure because when he comes to life, he’s just going to head to the kitchen to get one anyway. How else is he going to kill everyone in the house in a violent orgy of blood and screaming?

Thanks for dropping by, Happy Holidays!!

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It’s Christmastime and everyone’s abuzz in Blogland. There’s a distinct air of joyful stress. Or is it stressful joy? Either way, needles are flying, cookies are baking, hair is being torn out at the root. In the spirit of the season, here is my Christmas To Do list. Turns out I like making lists!

1. Adhere to marriage pact – avoid purchasing gift for Jon.

2. Adhere to friends and immediate family pact – avoid purchasing gift for friends and immediate family.

3. Purchase gifts for in-laws.

4. Make pact with in-laws for next year and all others.

5. Recall past years when decorations were still up in April.

6. Finish following calculation: 4 Cats + 1 Christmas Tree = ?

7. Take another look at Dot’s Santa.

8. Joyfully avoid decorating for the holidays.

9. Think wistfully about how nice it would be to knit gifts from the heart for loved ones.

10. Selfishly decide what to make for myself with All That Yarn.

11. Pat self on back for getting everyone on board for this year’s Christmas plans – ditching the whole fa-la-la thing altogether and heading to Foxwoods.

12. Think about what to have for Christmas dinner at the buffet.

13. Work on having Scroogey children so I never have to return to Christmas Stressland.

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