Bouzouki-knees

One of Mr.Q's good friends got married yesterday at a rather posh spot in Point Grey - a bit swankier than one might expect for a bunch of rock'n'rollers. There was some angst about what to wear - which shoes were comfortable enough, yet suitable? The long skirt or the shorter one? Light top or dark? Ack! And some de-cat-hairing (of the long skirt, with the darker top) with a hastily-purchased lint-roller, beside the van before we went in. (I doubt that sort of thing is often seen in Point Grey - hah!)

The setting was beautiful, but a bit intimidating at first. Fortunately, the couple's 1 1/2-year-old daughter (and her yellow balloon) kept things real and light-hearted and funny. Especially during the ceremony and the speeches. It's hard to be all formal and stodgy when a cute little girl is trying to catch her balloon and laughing maniacally. The finger-foods were tasty, the beer organic, the company entertaining. (And I had a new sock to start, when it got to be a little much! Yes, I brought my knitting. If I was a smoker, nobody would think twice about my pack of cigarettes. So there.) And the after-party, featuring some mighty fine rock&roll at the Railway Club, was a blast. I don't know why Mr.Q thinks I don't like rock music. I do. A lot. As long as it's GOOD. None of this stuff that sounds like weasels being tortured with out-of-tune guitars.

After the events of the last week - hell, the last year! - a celebration of something new and bright and wonderful was long overdue.

Today, Mr.Q's picking up some extra time at work, so I have a Sunday afternoon to myself. Mmmmm! Some letters to write, and some grocery-shopping to do. I think I'll combine them and settle in to write at the coffee shop. The sun is threatening to come out. Or, it was 10 minutes ago. That could easily change! But I hope not. (pleasepleasepleaseplease!)

Since he's working a Sunday, I thought I'd make him his favourite pasta for dinner. Bouzouki-knees Pasta. (Zucchini. Don't ask me how he heard "bouzouki knees." Then again, he's a musician, and obsessed.) I think we'll keep the new name, though! In the meantime:

Before:

After:

This was my first experiment with felting, and I'm rather pleased with the result. Mr.Q is totally fascinated by the process, and refers to it as "dreadlocking the knitting." He wants to know if everything I knit can be felted. Fortunately, our washing machine has only cold water hooked up to it, so any "experiments" he might attempt on his own will be unsuccessful. Otherwise I would have to hide all the scarves and my new socks.