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Diary of a Necromancer
Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense, you're just not keeping up
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Tags:
feeling: melancholy melancholy

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As of yesterday I'm caught back up on the Blanket Project after setting it aside for a bit to wrangle other knitting deadlines. (Yes, knitters encounter deadlines. Most of these were self-imposed "I want to finish this piece of $PROJECT_RELEASED_IN_PARTS before $NEXT_PART is revealed", of which I was following, oh, three at the same time, but one was a proof-of-concept piece that... also was being released in parts as the designer worked out how each part of it should go based on feedback, with occasional Hilarity as I kept out-knitting the pace of designing it.) So I'm now back to "only" having to work one of these each day, and should therefore be a little more patient about the patterns that have basically made their freakin' point already and not filling in half the block with plain knitting, as I did end up doing on a couple of particularly irritating examples during the catch-up phase. (This is much more likely to happen if A, the stitch-pattern is one or two lines, B, it's annoying to work, or C, I fail to see any point to what it does when it is worked; one of the skips on the first-half-of-July strip failed on all three criteria.)

I have also arrived at a point of knitting-fu where I am snickering behind my hand that two patterns in a row in the Source showed photographs of the wrong side of their swatch.

Tags:
feeling: accomplished accomplished

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...I apologized to it.

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feeling: CLOSURE!!

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Note that they are not on the same bed. Snip, alas, has made such a bad first impression of herself that a traumatized little Renfield is still living in protective custody in Mum's bedroom most of the time, only venturing out when we shut the Kraken Snip up in the bathroom for a while. We can only hope that time and getting a little more mass on currently-9lb Ren will help to resolve this impasse eventually...

Tags:
feeling: silly silly

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Day 44. I have fallen in amongst mad persons. They attempt to purchase my allegiance with trinkets and soothing herbs. The monster sniffs round outside the door to my fragile sanctuary, hungering, hungering.


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It is approaching again. I do not know how much longer I can hold out.

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feeling: silly silly

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Trevor and Jason, unsorted fragment:

"Now they legalize it." Max was somewhere between livid and heartbroken all over again, the last time we'd had this conversation; now he just seems bewildered, as if this sudden collapse of resistance has caught him out without a map for the road ahead. To be able to say, this was my family, this was my life, long after it's far too late for far too many.

The burdens of memory. Or the joys. I've never been able to work out which.

In the entryway the laughter of a child, Jason and the pup home from the park. Family is what you make of it.



Um. Yeah. Today happened. Today finally happened.

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feeling: indescribable indescribable

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Things the kitten will not eat:
  • Bacon
  • Tuna
  • Chicken shwarma
  • Gooshyfood

Things the kitten will eat:
  • Gyros
  • The acini de pepe in my chicken soup
  • Cottage cheese
  • Bugs


On the strength of that last entry we have decided that his really-seriously-we-mean-it-this-time-even-though-we-have-to-buy-a-new-tag name shall be Renfield, Ren for short.

These things occasionally take time to work out.


Snip is still camping his spawn sites and generally being a griefer about the entire thing. Given that she's a 12lb tuxedo-cat and he's an 8lb silvery-grey type, if you're picturing an orca cruising a beach waiting to take out a seal right about here then you have the general idea.

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feeling: amused amused

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For the record, even my somewhat-OCD-about-getting-the-right-underpants Muse doesn't quite make me drill down to this level of detail. But if she at some point decides that this information could be relevant, at least now I know where to look.

Inner Trevor is just thanking his lucky stars that creative dart landed somewhere else on the map, I think.

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feeling: amused amused

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Having gone through just about every name we could think of besides No Alcohol Lager and not had anything stick, the Kitten Formerly Known As Jasper has been formally dubbed the Gray Mouser, Mouse for everyday. It's a bit cliche and obvious, yes, but after two weeks the situation was getting a bit silly.

Snip has just about given up trying to wish him into the cornfield. Just about.

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feeling: exhausted exhausted

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So, this happened:

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His shelter-name was Jasper, which we obviously need to change ASAP for the sake of his dignity and ours, before it starts to stick. He is also, as the pronoun suggests, a dude-cat, which in near-forty years of welcoming feline overlords is a brand-new thing for our household; fingers crossed that they're telling the truth about early neutering taking care of the spraying thing, we've already got one cat with enough issues around here.

So far Snip is... unresolved about having a new flatmate; fortunately this time we have the luxury of having another room to shut the new introduction into, so we can take it as slowly as we can this time (unlike the Incident in which Snip ended up taking over a studio apartment from established-tenant Weasel, which may have had more than a bit to do with the subsequent 12-year standoff). We have two weeks' no-fault fostering-period to get her to come around...

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feeling: hopeful hopeful

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