Katherine the Great
I like to think of myself as a storyteller. Mostly I tell stories about knitting.

These socks are determined that I hate them. But, I will not be deterred. I love the idea of them.
and the yarn.
and the person they are for.
So I shall love them, despite their best efforts.

I was supposed to cast on 56 stitches for the second sock. You know. So it would match the first sock.

Night of the Living Socks

sorry for the repeat pic, but the pic of sock 2 was carried away in the night by tiny aliens (not really, it was a hard drive failure, but that's boring.)

As I got to the heel and was really happy with my dropped stitches, I realized that I was only working with 54. Rat on a stick! But, I talked to their soon-to-be owner and decided not to panic (read “she talked me off the ledge”).

Our conversation went something like this:
Me: I only cast on 54 for the second sock!….and the first sock fit well and it was 56 stitches!….and I’m just OCD enough to be bothered that they don’t match; it is all I can do to not just RIP!
Bonita: Wait. I will try it on.
Me: But they won’t be perfect.
Bonita: They’re perfect because they’re handmade by you.
Me: Well, one of your feet is probably 2 stitches skinnier than the other.
Bonita: Yes, that’s why I limp.
Me: you limp?
Me: …or are you pulling my leg?
Me: again.
Me: That’s why I limp.

She tried it on. She deemed it acceptable.

It was a smidge tight.

You know I ripped it out.

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Ran and walked the Zombie 5k last Saturday. To summarize, you are wearing 3 flags on a belt and you run through “kill fields” where zombies try to steal your flags and do obstacles (crawling under things, going through a building with live electric wires hanging down, wading through water/mud). If you get to the end with at least one flag, you “survived”. If not, you’re a Zombie! It seemed like a good thing to do just before I turned 35 to say, I’m hip, I’m young, I’m in good shape and if there’s a zombie apocalypse, I’m at least partially ready.

I was able to check a few things off my life list:
1. Shower in muddy water with 30 other mostly clothed people. The guy shampooing his hair in the muddy stream of water will forever mystify me.
2. Change clothes in a tent with 30-40 women I don’t know.
3. Use a port o’ potty in the dark.
4. Get electrocuted (I did not realize the very last obstacle was electrified, so, as I crawled on the ground under a fence, I felt something and thought, “was that barbed wire against my back?”. It happened again and I realized “nope, that’s what electricity feels like”)
5. Complete the majority of Zombie 5k with my plastic-bag covered wallet in hand (I just could not be comfortable leaving my credit cards, drivers license and cash at the gear check).

6. Make peace with the fact that I’m like that.
Run for your Lives Group

I also learned a few things:
1. If you’re running in mud and you want to pull your foot out without losing your shoe in the mud, turn your foot from side to side to loosen it/release the suction before pulling it out.
2. As a child, I climbed trees. I did not practice running up steep muddy hills where there is nothing to use for traction. If you plan to survive the Apocalypse, this is a skill you should work on. Also, cleets and gloves are not a bad idea.
3. I thought that I was going to be really competitive, but it turns out that when faced with the choice of giving up a flag and thus maybe not “surviving” the race, or certain bodily harm, I opted for “death”. Thus, I lost all my flags by the end of the second mile and finished the race having left no blood on the course.
4. I wore all red to try to hide my red flags. This strategy did not work. I think it attracted the zombies….just a little tip for the apocalypse from me to you.
5. Trying to meet up with friends in a place with no cell phone reception is no picnic. Thus, when I saw them (they were screaming my name), there are a lot of pictures of me running towards them looking like I’ve just won a gold medal. Also, they were nice enough to take my wallet prior to this.


Yes, I'm holding my nose. No, I did not need to be.

After a mud-shower and fresh clothes, we got a bite to eat. Turning into a zombie made me hungry…for BRAINS!!!

from left: Bonita (my zombie consultant), me, Adam (husband to my rocket scientist friend, Michelle -Thank You for letting me join your running group!!!), Erin (photographer extraordinaire)

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One fine day, I was driving down the road near my home admiring how butterflies were flying up my windshield and over my Nissan Leaf without splatting on the glass. I thought how lovely having an aerodynamic car was. Through my haze of bliss, I opened my garage, pulled in, and got out to plug in my car. There on the front bumper near the little charging door was a flattened butterfly. Well, crap! There goes my joy! oh well. I guess not all butterflies get to live happily ever after. So, I very carefully pulled it off by the very edge of its wings and went outside to drop it on the ground so it could maybe feed a bird or something…circle of life and all that.

As I released it, would you believe that it opened its wings and FLEW OFF! Now, I’m not talking about flew a few feet and then collapsed and died. It flew at least 50 feet and then landed in a field of wildflowers. At this point, all the facts about butterflies not being able to fly if you touch their wings flashed through my head. I squashed that logic right down and focused on how little I had touched it and I chose to believe that the butterfly lived in a land of unicorns and rainbows…you know, for like a day, cause butterflies don’t live that long.

But still, it was pretty freaking cool to have a butterfly that had been dead fly off into the flowers! WINNING!

Ps. In case you were wondering, it was moving much too fast to be a zombie butterfly. It was well and truly alive….I think. Happy Friday the Thirteenth!

Ps. I’ve logged over 12,000 miles on my Leaf!

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