OMGWTFBBQ!

I just looked - I mean, really looked - at the calendar. And I'm leaving for Sock Summit in two weeks!

Which means that in three weeks, it's all going to be over. All the build-up of the last 6 months. It's going to be worse than any post-show letdown, I'm sure! (Fortunately, all those years doing community theatre have taught me many coping skills in that regard. Mostly involving beer, 'tis true, but...so?!)

But in the meantime...there are going to be cyber-friends in Real Life, and so much yarn, and maybe a world record, and banners on the streetlamps, and the rock-stars of the Knitterati, and it is going to be So. Much. FUN!

And I have sooooo much knitting to finish between now and then! I wonder if I could convince work to give me a few more days off.....

And what colour is your neck?

Finally sitting down to blog about last weekend's getaway to the East Kootenay. Every year, a whole whack of our friends and family, and their friends and families, get together for a 24-hour par-tay, the likes of which you just don't see in the Big City. There's singing, swimming, camping, potlucking, singing, visiting, star-gazing, singing, occasional skinny-dipping (it was too cold this year!), some mosquito-swatting, pancake-breakfasting, and more singing.

In other words, it's one heck of a good time! (Did I mention the singing?)

We started out with some Cabo Wabo on my parents' deck - please note the very classy A&W mini-mug:

(Even better was the swig of Don Julio a friend shared with me, right out of the bottle! How's that for getting in touch with latent redneck tendencies? High-end tequila, no glass required.)

Then, out to the festivities - a friend's property a ways out of town. There was playtime with the kidlets, who were most excited to see Mr.Q. There was running and chasing and tickling, and some scrambling around on old farm equipment:

I'm not actually sure who had more fun with it all, the kids or Mr.Q.

Then, there was playing with the grown-ups: music, and lots of it, well into the night (and a good part of the early morning, as well!) My baby sister & I got together onstage with our pal Beth, in our "Mad Cows" incarnation (I love, love, looove Beth's hat!)

Mr.Q and I did a set, too, but I gots no good pics of that one. There was further quality time with fambly:

That there is my baby sister on the left. Can you tell? No family resemblance at all, nosiree. What cracks me up about the pic is that neither of us knew the other was sticking out her tongue. A class act, we are!

After hours of singing, and enjoying a lot of fantastic music well into the wee small hours, I had to crash. Not wanting to haul a lot of camping gear, we went for the minimalist approach:

It was a mite cold when the dew settled...thank FSM I'd packed my Malabrigo toque and some hand-knit socks! But it was delicious, laying in the sleeping bag, listening to the music from the stage bounce off the mountain behind me. Watching shooting stars and satellites.

(Oh! Oh! Oh! And we saw the ISS go over - waaay cool!)

Though the early sunrise was very...bright. And my back is still a bit achey after sleeping on the air mattress. Still, it was worth it. And my very clever and resourceful parents had coffee on first thing in the morning:

(Again, with the high-class setup! Spiked liberally with Baileys, it was nectar of the gods, it was.)

And somewhere between coffee and breakfast and "omgifIdon'tgetoutofthesunI'mgoingtomelt" and really, really wanting a shower, there were a few more tunes:

That's me on the left, in the blue T-shirt, desperately clutching my coffee mug. My sister is sitting on the far right, and between us are 3 very dear friends. Does life get much better than that?

Nope, I don't think so either.

(For the record, the gal with the guitar is the one who started me knitting. It's all her fault. And gosh I love her for it!)

Fish heads, fish heads...

So I wanted to title this post "Into the Great Wide Open" - had it half-written in my head today, about how we're flying home for the weekend, and how weird it was to realize that we've never flown together. Driven, or taken the Greyhound together, many times. Flown separately on numerous occasions. But never been on a plane at the same time. And since we travel pretty well together, I'm quite excited about this new chapter in our relationship. Etc. Etc. Etc.

This was the post I had planned. But then it got high-jacked by Life.

We're cleaning up the place a bit before we leave - for the sake of the cat-sitter, for the landlord who's coming in to do some repairs while we're away, and for me, coz I'm coming back a couple days before Mr.Q. He was rooting around on his side of the bed earlier, looking for some record sleeves, while I was taking the sheets off the bed. (The thought of coming home to clean sheets is almost as exciting as anything we've got planned for the weekend!)

So I'm about to put the clean sheets on, and I'm on his side of the bed, and I notice a slightly-crusty, grass-infused hairball. Two, in fact. Right in front of the bag of record sleeves. I call him into the bedroom. I ask him to help me with the sheet. And I notice that he doesn't bat an eye when he steps over the hairballs. The following conversation ensues:

Me: "How can you be working over there on your side of the bed and not notice the hairballs on the floor?!"

Him: (looking down) "Eeew! Yuck!"

Me: "How did you miss those?"

Him: (looking sheepish) "Actually, I thought they were fish."

Me: "You thought they were fish? On the bedroom floor? And you didn't think to investigate?"

Him: (shrugging, wanders off to put on a Billy Joel record.)

I think Douglas Adams may have written the script to my life.

Saturday night's alright

Mr.Q and I went out for some Saturday adventuring today (well, he had a dentist appointment, and I had a hot coffee date with a new sock-in-progress while I waited for him!) And it got off to a most auspicious start: I managed to fall UP the stairs leaving the apartment, and stubbed the shite out of my toe. Bent the toenail almost all the way back.

Good news is, I'm pretty sure the toe isn't broken (knowledge gained from previous experience falling up stairs...it's a special talent, I tell you!) I don't think I'm going to lose my toenail, either, thank FSM. However, it hurts like a bitch, and put rather a crimp in our afternoon walk-about plans.

So. What's a girl to do, with a sore toe, a husband at the dentist, and a new sock to celebrate? Why, hit the most Italian of the cafes on Commercial Drive ("little Italy") and console herself with an affogato di gelato (espresso poured over vanilla gelato):

That right there is a little bit of heaven on earth. And the sock next to it is a design of my own devising, using my brand spanky-new Sockgate yarn from Blue Moon. I'm calling it "Nox." (If you're a science fiction geek like me, you'll get it. If not, I'll spare you.) Anyway. It's very colourful yarn, much more so than I usually go for. But it's just so interesting, watching what the colours do next, that I'm having a really hard time stopping. I was actually knitting and walking today. (And knitting while trying to get off the bus. Not my brightest moment. Possibly even less bright than falling up the stairs.) I've had to bribe myself - trading off a few rows on the cardigan, then a few rows on the sock.

When we got home, I had a wee nap. Then got Mr.Q going on something that we've been putting off for, oh, a year. There was a little of this:

And then a little of that:

(Isn't he sexy with the power tools and stuff? You should see him in his new Carhartt work pants...nom nom nom! But I digress...there was this, and that, and then...)

Voila! A shelf for my knitting books:

Now. The question is - am I surprised by all the books I seem to have accumulated without really realizing it?

Or does it just accentuate the paltry state of my "library"?

I'm not spending a lot of time on the question tonight. Instead, I am feeling sorry for my sore toe (though it's much better since I lanced the blood blister under the nail. Aren't you glad I shared? Aren't you really glad I'm sparing you a picture?) I am self-medicating with grilled cheese, Strongbow, and the first season of Torchwood. In short, being about as productive as these guys:

Happy (belated) Canada D'eh!

(For the record, I tried to post this yesterday, but Blogger was being as asshat and I couldn't get the photos to work...)

So yesterday was Canada Day, and I celebrated it like the patriotic Canuck I am: Sleeping in, French toast with maple syrup for breakfast, and then a play-date in the sunshine. Mr.Q was offered a day of work, so I was flying solo. I decided to take advantage of the day to myself, and the very fine weather, and head to Chinatown. There's a classical Chinese garden down there that I've never been into. The lovely park outside the walls, yes - but not the actual garden itself.

I can't believe I waited so long to go! It's wee. But full of turns and crannies that make it seem a lot bigger than it is. It's a veritable oasis - though it's only 2 blocks from the heart of the Downtown East Side, it feels like it's a world - and centuries - away from the noise and chaos of the city.

I spent a perfect, quiet, ambling hour, poking about the garden, listening to classical Chinese music, drinking green tea while looking at calligraphy scrolls, watching turtles sunbathe among the lotuses...there's definitely something to that Feng Shui stuff...want to see?



After an hour of that kind of scenery, it was quite jarring to turn around and see the city over the walls...
Much nicer to look the other way!

I came home with some sexy-smelling tea that I'm about to brew up just this minute....There will definitely be another visit in the not-too-distant future.