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Monday, July 6, 2015

*Kermit Flail* Monday! June!


See, when I first started *Kermit Flail*,  more than a year ago, I did it because a few people had asked me nicely if they could use my blog.  I didn't really have a forum for other people to speak here-- it was mostly me blathering on and on and on… (Check it out-- I've been nattering on since Squish was two months old. That's nine years, peeps. I think I was more interesting nine years ago… don't know why…)

Anyway-- so, I thought I'd get one or two books a month, and some months have been like that, but I assumed I be doing it for people I was tight with because seriously-- who'd come to my blog for book recs?

But you all have surprised me-- and this month is that sort of an awesome surprise.  I've met the lovely Ms. Carole Cummings in person (loved her!) and hung with the supremely awesome Goddess of Baseball, Ms. Kate McMurray during this last RT (adored!) but we also have Deja Black and L.A. Parker and Felice Stevens-- the Felice Stevens who was recently on's top 100 Kindle sales PERIOD.  And of course, we have the AMAZING AND TREMENDOUS Rhys Ford, doing urban fantasy which she's wonderful at!  In all, we have some happy, some dramatic, some fantasy, some urban fantasy, some contemporary, and even some Amy Lane Lite!

So, this is getting to be a pretty awesome deal.  I am so proud of this months' line-up!  Please give a hearty HUZZAH for this month's *Kermit Flail*-- everybody here is both eclectic and HELLACIOUSLY BODACIOUSLY AWESOME!


Carole Cummings

Kimolijah Adani—Class 2 gridTech, beloved brother, most promising student the Academy’s ever had the privilege of calling their own, genius mechanical gridstream engineer, brilliantly pioneering inventor... and dead man. But that’s what happens when a whiz kid messes with dynamic crystals and, apparently, comes to the attention of Baron Petra Stanslo. Killed for his revolutionary designs, Kimolijah Adani had been set to change the world with his impossible train that runs on nothing more than gridstream locked in a crystal. Technically it shouldn’t even be possible, but there is no doubt it works.
Bas is convinced the notoriously covetous and corrupt Stanslo had something to do with Kimolijah Adani’s tragic and suspicious end. A Directorate Tracker, Bas has finally managed to catch the scent of Kimolijah Adani’s killer, and it leads right into Stanslo’s little desert barony. For almost three years, Bas has tried to find a way into Stanslo’s Bridge, and when he finally makes it, shock is too small a word for what—or, rather, whom—he finds there.

The Rainbow League: Book Two

by Kate McMurray

Mason made headlines when, after his professional baseball career was sidelined by an injury, he very publicly came out of the closet. Now he’s scratching the baseball itch playing in the Rainbow League while making his way through New York’s population of beefcakes, even though they all come up short. Plus, he’s still thinking about last summer’s encounter with hot, effeminate, pierced and tattooed Patrick—pretty much the opposite of the sort of man he has long pictured himself with.

Patrick hasn’t been able to forget Mason either, and now that baseball season is back upon them, he’s determined to have him again. Mason is unlike any man Patrick has ever been with before, and not just because he’s an ex-Yankee. All Patrick has to do is convince a reluctant Mason that their one night wasn’t just a crazy fluke and that they could be great together… if only Mason could get past his old hang-ups and his intolerant family.

Broken Bones

by Deja Black

Dan Tolliver, the adopted son of alpha pack leader Jeremiah Tolliver, has suffered his last moment of abuse by his lover Keith Mulligan and finds himself in the hospital. There he meets dark and sharp-tongued Dr. Aiden Kavanaugh, who believes Dan needs some of his straightforward kind of medicine. Still, there is something different about the doctor.

Aiden is a sandman, a weaver of dreams, and has been on earth far longer than even he knows. He's at the end of his time, ready to transition, and needs a human mate to keep him connected to the world he’s grown to love. Only he hasn’t found a special person who makes him want to stay. He doesn’t despair, because not every sandman has the chance to choose, but he knows if he doesn’t find a partner, he will soon lose his physical form and exist only in dreams.

When Aiden realizes Keith is a far greater monster than Dan has any idea, they grow and work together using the support of the pack—and Dan’s inner strength—to overcome impossible odds.

Saving Rainbow Falls

by L.A. Parker

The small town of Rainbow Falls is dying. Shops are closing, the major industrial employer is shutting their doors, and the town square is beginning to look as dilapidated and run-down as the townsfolk feel. Sam Monroe, the town’s attorney, puts forward a shocking economic solution – one which has the potential to divide the town right down the middle of Founders Street.
Despite a lack of support from the mayor and town council, seeing a glimmer of hope for their future, the remaining business owners take on the challenge, throwing unexpected support behind the idea. But not everyone in Rainbow Falls accepts Sam’s proposal.
 Can a former popular tourist destination bend to the winds of change? Can reluctant committee chair, Mike Murphy, convince the citizens to take this chance? Can a town really be saved…one kiss at a time?
 The answer hinges on the success of the newly founded and very colorful Rainbow Falls Pride Committee.


One Step Further

by Felice Stevens

Alex Stern has it all; good looks, charm, a job he loves and everyone calls him a friend. He lives life to the fullest at a breakneck pace, in the city that never sleeps. But Alex is also a master pretender; not even his best friend sees the pain that Alex hides so well. Alex himself isn’t sure who he is or what he’s searching for, he only knows that he hasn’t found it yet.

As a veterinarian, Rafe Hazelton loves each animal that crosses his path; they don’t care if he stutters a bit or that he prefers men. Their love is unconditional, but his life is still empty; they can only give him so much. New friendships convince him it’s time to break the wall of loneliness he’s hidden behind since childhood and discover what he's been missing.

Alex and Rafe forge a friendship that turns physical, and they both swear that the relationship will last only as long as the fun does. But when old heartaches come to light and secrets hidden for years are revealed, Alex and Rafe discover if they accept what’s in their hearts and take it one step further, the greatest reward is waiting for them in the end.

Ink and Shadows

by Rhys Ford

Kismet Andreas lives in fear of the shadows.
For the young tattoo artist, the shadows hold more than darkness. He is certain of his insanity because the dark holds creatures and crawling things only he can see—monsters who hunt out the weak to eat their minds and souls, leaving behind only empty husks and despair.

And if there’s one thing Kismet fears more than being hunted—it’s the madness left in its wake.

The shadowy Veil is Mal’s home. As Pestilence, he is the youngest—and most inexperienced—of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, immortal manifestations resurrected to serve—and cull—mankind. Invisible to all but the dead and insane, the Four exist between the Veil and the mortal world, bound to their nearly eternal fate. Feared by other immortals, the Horsemen live in near solitude but Mal longs to know more than Death, War and Famine.
Mal longs to be… more human. To interact with someone other than lunatics or the deceased.

When Kismet rescues Mal from a shadowy attack, Pestilence is suddenly thrust into a vicious war—where mankind is the prize, and the only one who has faith in Mal is the human the other Horsemen believe is destined to die.

Bitter Taffy

by Amy Lane

A Candy Man Book

Rico Gonzalves-Macias didn't expect to fall in love during his internship in New York—and he didn’t expect the boss’s son to out them both and get him fired either. When he returns to Sacramento stunned and heartbroken, he finds his cousin, Adam, and Adam's boyfriend, Finn, haven't just been house-sitting—they've made his once sterile apartment into a home.

When Adam gets him a job interview with the adorable, magnetic, practically perfect Derek Huston, Rico feels especially out of his depth. Derek makes it no secret that he wants Rico, but Rico is just starting to figure out that he’s a beginner at the really important stuff and doesn’t want to jump into anything with both feet.

Derek is a both-feet kind of guy. But he’s also made mistakes of his own and doesn’t want to pressure Rico into anything. Together they work to find a compromise between instant attraction and long-lasting love, and while they’re working, Rico gets a primer in why family isn’t always a bad idea. He needs to believe Derek can be his family before Derek’s formidable patience runs out—because even a practically perfect boyfriend is capable of being hurt.

Sunday, July 5, 2015

And for my day off I...

*  Fourth of July was marked by a landmark event. 

I cooked.  I made potato salad and big bowls of strawberries.  All stand in awe of my prowess and dedication to the holiday that Mate and I have mostly thought of as an opportunity to huddle in the air conditioning and watch movies.  *Amy bows*

*  The day after Fourth of July was Amy's and Berry Jello's Friendship Day.  This mostly means we got junk food and watched bad television-- or great television, depending on your taste.  Given that I mostly have TERRIBLE taste in television, but that I'm passionate about my terrible taste in television, I think I shall recap:

       *  Teen Wolf-- once again, this show specialized in dumping characters and resurrecting them with a cavalier regard for plotting or continuity, but, also per usual, they were really good at inserting angelic looking mystery characters with lots of chemistry into the mix.  What this means is that they get away with violating every law of storytelling I hold dear by distracting me with pretty, and while I'm still going, "Ooh… can we have two guys kiss again?" they fuck up any semblance of integrity the show has.  *sigh*  Fucking pretty.  It will bite you in the ass. 

     *  James Patterson's Zoo-- Okay-- they had GIANT CGI LIONS.  And a fuckton of cats in trees. And a handsome, scruffy guy who looks like he might live to the end of the season.  Right now, I'm calling it a win!  Oh yeah-- and Billy Burke and some hot chick with a tattoo.  Win win win win win.

     *  Humans-- This looked like a BBC production that has a startling resemblance to Robert Silverberg's Tower of Glass.  The resemblance is made even more disturbing by showing us vulnerable, sympathetic robots who deserve not to get thrown away or have their memories wiped.  If you've read Tower of Glass, and you get to the end where the synthetic humans are ripping the real ones apart limb from limb, you know it's not particularly reassuring to know these sympathetic creatures (all of whom were apparently designed from young, hot looking models, except the ones who aren't sympathetic at all!) now all have backstories, tragic love lives, and souls.  Still-- it obviously garnered my attention-- I may look into it again!


I've also been slipping some reading into my life.  Now, I usually give everything I've read on GoodReads 5 *, because otherwise, I fall into the abyss of politics and reviews and should writers review other writers and blah blah blah blergh.  My policy is simple-- if I like it enough to recommend, I recommend it.  If I don't, I don't mention it. I don't even mention that I bought it. I am well aware that I am A. Picky, B. ADHD, and C. Moody and fucking Capricious in the extreme. My highly subjective, easily swayed opinion for why a book doesn't capture my methadone squirrel attention for longer than five minutes is of no use to anybody.  The book that lost me at Hello may very well be someone else's guiding light.  

So, if I finished a book, I had to like it (or, often, ADORED IT) and the following titles have kept my attention to the end.

Murder and Mayhem-- by Rhys Ford

Forging the Future-- by Mary Calmes

Rebecca-by Daphne du Maurier 

Think of England-- by K.J. Charles

Good Omens-- Neil Gaimen and Terry Pratchett

So, you know.  My opinion is worth absolutely diddly/squat, but there you go. I just gave it on a variety of things--hopefully, I was at least entertaining!


Saturday, July 4, 2015

Some Things to Remember About Mom...

*  Don't send her out for donuts and expect her to come back with a measly dozen.
Danger: This movie will GUT you.

*  Don't show her a sad movie and expect her not to cry.

*  Don't leave her alone to work and expect there not to be a nap at some point in time.

*  Don't ask her why she quit cleaning the kitchen table when you were born
, because that gets the whole, "Well, writing," and suddenly you have to evaluate how screwed up mom is and whether or not she's raising you right.

*  Don't ask her to read your tarot unless you're prepared to get her an ice water. I don't ask for silver, but I do ask for ice water.

*  Don't ask her to make a side dish unless you expect it for five-hundred people.

*  Don't show her pictures of her offspring who is far away and not expect her to get all verklempt.

*  Don't torture her favorite characters in your story and expect her to not get very upset.  *glares at Mary Calmes*

*  Don't bitch about doing the dishes when she's fed you.

*  Don't ask her to sit down and watch a movie (or two) because she will flush her entire day down the toilet to chill with her family.

Friday, July 3, 2015

It's a Metaphor

Okay-- so it's no secret that I'm going under.

That I've got a stack of deadlines on my computer that leave me tearful at least three times a week.

That I've got kids in the house who need my attention, full time.

That everybody is staying up until one in the morning, and not just me, so getting work done then is not an option.

That my computer periodically decides that it's going to spazz out and that the cursor is just going to be possessed while I try to actually accomplish shit.

That the dogs have so much a run of the house that the cats have just fucking given up.

That my kitchen table is the slough of despond.

That nobody wants to clean the kitchen, least of all me.

That my bathroom is going to be declared a public health hazard, and I've given up.

And that I will drop everything to go with my husband anywhere he asks.

So, with all of this in mind--

Tonight, Mate took me out to eat with his friends, and we had a good time. We got home late, and omg-- there was Steve the Cat, in our driveway, and I was so happy I could have cried.  Steve!  We locked the dogs up so we could get Steve inside and proceeded to spoil the shit out of her.  No dogs, new food, fresh water, lots of pets.  Oh Steve! We're so happy to see you!

So Steve, after making much of the food choices, finally convinced me to get her a new bowl of food.  She eats on the kitchen table, on top of all of the shit that accrues there, in the far corner from my laptop, which is squatting in the disaster.

Finally-- finally-- with The Soup playing in the background, after sitting with Mate and Squish for some television and mom time-- I sat down to my spazzy computer, just as Steve wandered to her new bowl of food.

And then…

Fell off the table.

Seriously-- she turned the wrong way, and her back end slid off, taking a month's worth of mail with her, as well as some Target bags.  Her front legs flailed, like she was trying to climb the mountain of crap as it fell down on her head, and the food went tumbling down, spreading doggy treats everywhere!  (They're not supposed to eat the cat food-- ergo, dog treats.)

Chicken got here just in time to see Steve's mouth, opened in a silent meow, as she went under in the avalanche.

And she fell apart.

She started to laugh, and I fought tears, and she's all, "Why are you crying?"

I was looking at the mess, and she just picked it all up including the cat food (dog treats)  and swept it up.

"There.  Now can you laugh at the cat?"

"Yeah.  It was sort of funny, wasn't it?"

"It was fucking hysterical. God I've missed Steve."


Me too.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Wreck of the Menstrual Cycle

So, after hanging out with the girls today and going to the yarn store then coming home to watch Working Girl, I was ready to go with Mate for dinner and a movie.

But, well, you read the title.  We had to come home after dinner so I could change, and I just wasn't ready to put on a whole new date outfit.

Besides-- @Midnight was on, and that's always fun.

Seriously-- after RT and the pace I was running (or not running, because I was sick for two weeks!) hanging out to watch movies is just SO seductive. And Chicken is here. And Squish needs me. And…

And then, oh, angry heavens, Dirty Dancing was on!

I've been seriously trying to watch that movie from beginning to end for about two years.  Tonight was my night.

"Nobody puts baby in a corner!"

"That's a real grown-up name, Frances."

"I carried a watermelon?"

"I didn't do the lift…"

"Stay alive, no matter what occurs, and I will find you!"

Wait… there's something wrong with that last one…

Oh!  Yeah!

Last of the Mohicans.  

Heh heh heh…

Maybe that's a movie for tomorrow!

But for tonight, there needs to be lots and lots of writing.  And maybe more movies tomorrow.

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

A Little Homesick...

So ZB is in Paris, and this evening I got this call:

"Hi mom.  I'm a little homesick."

"Well, we miss you honey, but I hope you're having fun."

"I'm using my roommate's phone.  Can I talk to Squish?"

I handed the phone to Squish, and what was going to be a long convo started.  I got the phone back QUICKLY.

"Uhm, ZB, hon-- we love you. We miss you. We hope you have fun. And this phone call is costing your roommate's parents a LOT of money."


He's a good egg, ZB. And we miss him terribly.

* * *

Spent the day sleeping and chilling. Literally-- it reached A Bajillion degrees here today, so getting to the grocery store before it got so hot the ice cream would melt before I got it out to the car was the most pressing thing on my agenda today.

* * *

By the way, @midnight's hashtag wars was #addgoatruinagoat which I think is a game we will be playing for a very long time.  My favorite of the family offerings was the following from Chicken: "Goats and cows, living together, mass hysteria…"  From Goatbusters.

* * *

And I'm off to edit Bound and working Lollipop, which is the sequel to Bitter Taffy.  

Monday, June 29, 2015

A Very Big Day

We got up at 4 a.m. so we could leave Zoomboy at the airport at 5:30.

He looked really grown up, but his last hug was really tight.  Mama's been trying to keep it together all day.  It helps that we were REALLY busy.

We left the airport around 6:00 and drove straight to San Francisco.  We arrived around 9:10-- which was enough driving time for me to finish that wrap I talked about last week.  I think I am going to keep it, because… well, because I think it's good. I think it's pretty.  My artist friends are all nice and won't laugh at me behind my back when I wear it, I know it!

Anyway, we parked and napped for about half an hour.  Then we walked a mile to the Moscone Center so I could attend the RWA book signing at the American Library Association convention.

Mate and the girls went to ride the trolley-- and I signed books.

I met two fans--eeeeee!!!!  Amy Call, who hung out for a picture (not this one)  and omg… I'm sorry!  Forgot!!! Name!!! But she loved Clear Water!!!  I also signed 58 OTHER book for other people who were happy to meet me. I wanted to cry-- they were all so nice!  Carol Ritter and Steph Fry, the RWA Goddesses who met me were SO ORGANIZED.  But they also loved Harry Potter and thought Matt Lewis (thanks Steph!) got unbelievably hot.  They were nice enough to listen to me ramble (because sleep deprivation and, hello, a sort of FREAKING AMAZING two and a half weeks) so I adore them now. They're wonderful.

Anyway-- Mate called me and said, "Come meet us at Lou's Fish Shack on the wharf!"

I caught a cab outside the center… and the proceeded to look up Lou's Fish Shack so I could give the guy the address, and then watched as he drove me around the city in a very big loop to get there, and THEN gaped at him as he dropped me off with no Fish Shack in sight.

So I asked a local where it was.

And was directed the wrong way.

And then asked a guy at an info booth where it was, and turned around and walked back the block and then up another block to get there.

I'm like, "Holy God-- if natives don't even know their own city, we're all fucking doomed!"

So I was starving when I got there, but Mate had ordered me a sourdough chowder bowl, and we sat out on the patio and ate.  Then we walked down to Pier 39, where we walked into the puppet store.  They said, "What are you looking for?"

I said, "We're looking for something for Squish, who had to deal with the fact that mom and dad were too busy volunteering and dealing with college graduating and trips to San Diego and trips to Europe to remember flowers for her recital, and who watched her brother get on a plan to Paris without her at five in the morning."

They said, "So, basically anything in the store."

I was like, "Skies the limit."

She got an Arctic Fox named Magic-- who is beautiful and who can be brushed for real-- I have no pictures, but, well, Squishy and Magic. It only makes sense.

And I got these three zombies for my friend Sheela and her kids, because Zombies are here THING. Then we walked to the trolley, took the trolley to the end of the Embarcadero, and walked another couple of blocks to the car.  Yes. We DID go in a HUGE ASSED CIRCLE made of walking, trolleys, cabs, and tears, why do you ask?

Anyway-- Mate clawed his way out of the city using teeth and nails, and then we got home.  And I made Chicken pose for me with the wrap-- because all things are more beautiful with a Chicken in it.

And yeah.  It's even prettier on her-- not that she knows what to do with it but still.

All things considered, it was like our day-- a long road, and a long way around, but the end result was worth it.

Sunday, June 28, 2015

Oh Happy Day!

Taken by Steve Parris, of Seattle 
So, when I was little, my dad was a hippie-- I've gone on about Brother Bus elsewhere, but one of the details I neglected there was that strung between the front and back of the car, right where a chauffeur would have a window on a limo, were two giant peace flags.

My dad once got pulled over by men in black suits because they did NOT like those peace flags.

I suppose if there's anything a five year old needs in education about symbols, it's having a scary man ask her dad if he was ready to go to jail for defacing the American flag.  Of course, it was just a scare tactic-- especially when they realized that their young hippie had a little girl and a dog in the back of the bus, but it did make it's point.

Freedom to believe in the symbol of your choosing is so important.

So when a reader sent me this picture, taken from last year's Seattle Pride, I was enchanted.  Now the reader has sent me some ASTOUNDING photos of Seattle before this-- I love his eye and his take on the world.

But given the Supreme Court's ruling on Friday-- and how very much I like this symbol-- I asked if I could show this one.

Oh please, world-- let us know love, and some joy, and, in this matter of simple human dignity, a little peace.

Friday, June 26, 2015

Only YOU can prevent tragic ushing accidents…

So show one of the annual recital commenced tonight, and the following things occurred in no particular order:

A.  I remembered why I should never work retail, because customer service is NOT my strong suit.  Witness when the woman came in a half an hour late and got in my face because I was busy with someone else and didn't offer a program.  "We're you late?" I snapped, and she looked at me, as though surprised.

Yeah.  Don't piss off a volunteer.

And what I almost said to the asshole who--after watching me pick up trash for half an hour, cheerfully and willingly, in what was mostly just a bid to get us all the hell out of there as soon as possible-- snarled, "You are DRIPPING all over the FLOOR!"

It almost slipped out. I was JUST right there about to say, "Hey, asshole, maybe YOU should volunteer for trash duty!" when I realized that the public might not be served by this display of temper, and I turned around to go dump my trash bag.  Mate saw me marching down the aisle and said, "Is there a body?"

No.  But because I didn't glare at him to kill.

B.  I also proved that I can fuck up the mostly harmless duty.  So there I was, punching holes in tickets, when suddenly the hole punch jumped and BIT me. It drew blood. I had to ask one of the busiest dancers in the show to go back and get a bandaid from the first aid lady.

Seriously. Brought down by a tragic ushing accident-- don't let it happen to you!

C.  Don't pull petty tyrant crap on me either.  When an older woman asks for a bottle of water so she can down a painkiller for her back, don't give her shit about "These many hundreds of bottles of water are here for intermission ONLY!"

Especially if she's your mom.

And don't look at me dirty if I open a sacred bottle of water for your own mother because she's not feeling well and is really frickin' pale. I appreciate that you take snack bar seriously, but… you know. THE WATER IS DONATED. In fact, EVERYTHING on the table is donated. Which means that elderly women who need to wash down a Tylenol can pretty much "steal" a donated water.

And yes. I did donate four boxes of Oreos and two boxes of shortbread and an ice chest full of ice, and I AM going to donate the same tomorrow. So yeah. I'm taking a cookie for me and a cupcake for my daughter, who sat in the audience for most of the show because she only performed one bonus number (the father daughter dance) and her actual class performances are tomorrow.  She's been an awesome kid, I just spent half an hour filling ice chests when I didn't have to, and she's getting a cupcake. Your glare means nothing to me. Sayin'.

D. Chicken once again walked into a backstage situation and did her best. Zoomboy proved he is all hambone and was adorable during the boy's dance and the Wizard of Oz dance, wherein he buffed the Tin Man in rhythm. (That sounds… just wrong, but it was what he DID.)  Squish sat politely in a seat next to a complete stranger and watched the show until her time to go.

Mate did EVERYTHING including Security Dad, including help with the backdrop, including the father/daughter dance.  Yes. Watching him and Squish dancing together makes me tear up every time.

Well done, family.

We're back tomorrow--I shall do my level best not to get fired from volunteer work.

No promises.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Yes, there's still knitting...

So, I'll be honest. Jay (From Joyfully Jay's) posted an absolutely adorable picture on Twitter, featuring herself wearing a scarf she'd made in Dragonfly Fibers.  She had very kind words about me as a knitting inspiration, and I felt very inadequate, because the scarf was amazing and because…

Well, this is what I'm working on now.

Every artist I know has run away from this project screaming.  "Oh my God, the colors, the colors, the hideous colors!!!"

Everyone else gets shiny-squirrel syndrome.  "Oooh… I like that stripe, and that stripe, and that one… and the flow… and the ribbon… and the drape… and the…. ooooooohhhhh….."

So I figure, on the one hand, this would be a TERRIBLE project to wear in public and say, "Oh, yes, it's an Amy Lane original!" because it will make about 1/5 of the population raise their eyebrow and think to themselves, "Keep this woman away from knitting, yarn stores, and any sort of paint and draw program because… damn!"

The other 4/5ths will say, "Oh my God, it's an AMY LANE ORIGINAL!!! IT'S AWESOME!"  Because they're much like me and they're sucked into the four kinds of WOW present in what's going to be a very large, very drapey and formless sort of wrap made for summer evenings and airplanes.


You know.


I'd really love to wear this for myself.  I'd also really love to send it to someone else and disclaim all knowledge of aforementioned wrap.

We'll have to see.  If it shows up on your doorstep, feel free to say you got it from Good Will.

I DO need to finish it though, because

A. I just re-orged my yarn into drawers and dismantled several UFO's and turned them into newly wound yarn again.

 B.  I also saved some of those UFO's-- mostly socks-- and would like to finish them  and

 C. My beloved friend and editor wants me to knit her THIS-- and sent me some lovely Madeleine Tosh worsted to make that happen.  Now, before you wander off and ignore that link, I need you to take in two things.  One is that NEIL GAIMEN is modeling that scarf, and that I loved the idea so much, I went and bought THE BOOK that has the pattern in it.  And I also bought the yarn featured in the ad right above the Mr. Gaimen's handsome, pixieish visage.  Which leads me to

 D. Chicken would like me to knit her a cropped short sleeve cardigan with Say Nevermore, made by Blue Moon Fibers, the people who brought us Socks That Rock.

So see?  I've got to figure out what I'm doing quick and finish off that wrap!


E. I also have the wooby that Elizabeth North, Ariel Tachna and I all purchased in Dallas, so to make before the weather turned again.

So yeah-- I have SO MUCH to do in the writing front and the kid front--

But in case you were still wondering?

I'm still knitting.