Prickly

Another day, another cowl?  Perhaps.  It seems to be a thing for me lately.  Because, you know, this, my second cowl makes two, which is a thing?  Oh Jenna. Anywho ...

At our annual Knitting Party, this year's swap gifted me with this yarn in the Christmas Cactus colorway.  Now it is sock yarn, so one might think making socks with it would be logical.  I, however, am not logical.  Also, I recently unearthed (in my husband's car's trunk ... weird, right?) a pair of half, or perhaps a quarter, knit socks still (obviously) on the needles.  Those socks are somewhat brain-requiring and I didn't want to start another pair so I did a little search of the yarn in my colorway on Ravelry.  It is not the most popular colorway out there, but I saw this, and even though the dye lot there is a lot more red than mine, I decided to give it a go.  Also, I am currently addicted to cowls. 


The yarn was easy to ball up and had not a single knot.  Sadly this is worthy of both note and excitement.  What the hell happened to quality control yarn makers??  Anyway, the big down side of this yarn was the fact that knitting more than a row turned my fingers a lovely reddish orange.  I was able to wash my hands each time I finished working on it and the dye came off.  But it was annoying. 



The dye leaching was annoying.  And perhaps a smarter person would have not only remembered that, but thought about it before starting the blocking process.  I did remember it, and not wanting my neck or my collars to turn colors, I gave the cowl two good washes in Eucalan.  And then I let is soak in a third batch over night.  In my sink.  Which is some new age product and not porcelain.  The next morning the water was reddish orange and so was my sink.  NOT WINNING!  Several serious scrubs with Bar Keepers Friend and the sink was once again white, but I was annoyed.  Even with all of this washing and soaking, the cowl left reddish stains on three consecutive towels as I rung it out in prep for blocking.  Also annoying. 



As noted in these instruction, the actual pattern used was this one.  I used it too.  My only deviation was due to my inability to pay attention.  In mine, the garter rows between the yarn over rows vary from three rows to five.  Reddish orange fingers and all, I am happy with this cowl.  It wraps around my neck three times and is more snug than loose, but not too snug.  That being said, one of my CiF folks seemed to really like the yarn at our Knitting Party, so perhaps I will CiF ... I'm undecided right now.

Yarn: Done Roving Frolicking Feet, Christmas Cactus, 1 skein
Needles: Addi Turbo Circs, size 3.5 mm (US 4)
Pattern: Garter & Eyelet Cowl
Modifications: Varied the number of garter rows between lace/yarn over rows.
Time: 18 days.
Care: Machine wash, gentle cycle, cold water. Dry flat to block it out.

#48293

J1 was telling her little sister that she didn't want to play with her. But she was doing it in a nasty tone and making J2 cry. So I was trying to explain to her other ways she could deliver the message without sounding like a snot and hurting J2's feelings. And this is why, two days later, my kids keep saying, "Please leave me alone, I want to play with myself." Parenting fail.

Toilettes

This morning, I had the pleasure of taking mes bébés to The Cheesecake Factory for brunch.  We met up with some awesome friends, the girls got some awesome Christmas presents, and we had an awesome meal.  Sadly, due to Schikabibble's (the current in vogue name for Baby #3) placement directly on top of my bladder, and having a companion who is three and a half years old, there were a couple of not so awesome trips to the loo.  And each and every time, I, or we, were faced with the automatic flushing toilet. 

Now, in principle, the automatic flushing toilet is brilliant.  It cleans up for people who are too dirty, lazy, or germaphobic to actually push the flusher themselves.  In reality, well, in reality, it is never that nice.  For some damn reason, the automatic flushing toilet will never flush, not even once, for the person before me.  When it is my turn, however, the thing will flush a half a dozen times.  Now, let me be clear, I am not a twitchy person, I don't have Tourette's, and I'm not wiggling around when I'm in the stall.  Nonetheless, that toilet flushes like I'm marching a band in there with me.  Inevitably it flushes once I've lined the seat with paper before I've even managed to sit down.  Then once I re-line, it flushes again.  A flush or two while I am going and then another when I stand up.  Each flush, of course, mists my rear end.  So basically I am using a public bidet.  Which, quite frankly, is probably one of the grossest things out there, if there exists such a thing.  A quick google search reveals that though there a lot of complaints about public flushing toilets, there is no technique which prevents such misting mishaps.  I suspect that most people do not feel a need to, proverbially, build a better mousetrap, which is why I am converting, flip flopping, switching alliances.  No longer will I be a line it, sitter.  Nope, from this day forward I shall always be a squatter. 

Not As Intended

Despite the insanely warm temperatures  (Damn you Global Warming!), I knit myself a warm and bulky cowl.  In my mind I knew EXACTLY what I wanted.  I wanted it to stripe, but not too obnoxiously.  I want it to be neutral, but not boring.  I wanted it to wrap around my neck twice, but not have too much extra play.  I wanted it to be seamless and soft.  Sadly, that which is in my head is not necessarily one with reality. 

  

I used Jared Flood's Noro Striped Scarf as a jumping off point.  But I did jump off quite a bit. Which is to say I knit two rows per color, and did so in a 1x1 rib.  I didn't do any of his pretty edging, or use his pattern numbers.

  
The knitting of this baby was pretty darn quick. I enjoyed watching the shades of the Noro pop in and out. I did not, however, enjoy picking the twigs out of the Noro or dealing with the random breaks and knots in the yarn. In fact, that part was really friggen annoying. Not as annoying as trying to seam this monster together though. While my provisional cast on seemed quite normal, it wasn't. I used a crochet chain. Used the bumps and started my 1x1 rib. Which, I learned at 11:45pm on New Year's Eve, was an epic fail. It looked normal before I took out the chain, but it wasn't.

    In fact, it was almost as if it was not actual knitting.  This may have been daunting to some, but not me.  Oh no.  I was sure it would be fine once I got to grafting. Ha!  And HAHAHA.  I had about 10 resources on grafting in a rib, none of which were actually spot on, and tried to cobble something pretty together.  I tried.  Over.  And over.  Never really stopping.  Well, that's not quite true. I did take a quick break to ring in the New Year with a smooch for my husband and a chug of some iced tea, but that was it.  And that is perhaps why, at 1:00 a.m. I said 'to Hell with you' and weaved in my ends.  I wasn't thrilled, but I was tired and I wanted to be done. 

The next morning, I was still tired, but I was also horrified.  What awful crap was this?  What happened to the perfectionist yarn cutter I once was? At the (smart) urging of a friend, I ripped, and cut that shit out.  And then I started again.  I had to reknit several inches because my end weaving was that damn good (unlike my seaming) and so the stripes are now no longer perfect.  This irked me.  And it still kind of does.  But I am going to pretend it doesn't.  In any event, I reknit and then, using my pea brain, decided to use the tried and true mattress stitch instead of some new age grafting stitch I made up out of frustration.

  

I do have a seam, but it isn't too unseemly (hardy har har).  If you put the seam in the back, you can't tell my stripes are not in perfect colorlogical pattern order.  So, good enough!

Yarn: One and a quarter skeins of Noro Big Kureyon and one skein of an unknown grey yarn I received as a gift from a friend
Needles: Addi Turbo Circs, size 5.5 mm (US 9)
Pattern: Noro Striped Scarf
Modifications: Cast on 55, knit 1x1 rib, bind off, mattress stitch
Time: Two weeks
Care: Dry clean (as if)

One of Four

So remember when I mentioned that cruel, cruel mistress, Craft It Forward (CIF) 2011, which incidentally has not been seen anywhere in 2012 because people learned their lesson?  No?  Did I mention it?  Well if not in short (heh, as if) there was a status on facebook that read something along the lines of:

It's time to Craft-It-Forward!  Would you like me to make you something special in my oh-so-abundant-free-time?  I have had way to much wine and am feeling friendly.  I also smoked crack and dined on magic mushrooms.  Life is a rainbow, experienced on the back of a unicorn.  I will plan to craft something for the first five people that write a comment AND re-post this status on their own walls. Even as I type this, I suspect it isn't going to end well but I want something awesome from someone else.  I am selfish.  I will pay for this selfishness. Eventually your craft will get done, but only after I feel so guilty for being a slacker and have received a craft from you or someone else.  Please pass the dutchie from the left hand side.

Perhaps it was a bit more succient.  In any event, I had CIF well under control (read: no one had crafted me so I felt comfortable not having crafted someone else).  But then.  But then I was having a crochet issue with the Sweet Pea Shawl and joked that a friend could crochet my shawl for me as my CIF gift ... AND SHE DID.  But then my other friend randomly appeared with an awesome felted gnome bag, with the gnome modeled after a real life one, well real life statute, obviously.  So then my feet were to the fire.  I am working on something for the crocheter, but in the meantime, gnomey said she saw a bandana cowl at a LYS and wanted to make one some day and I thought to myself I AM ON THIS.  Except this is me we are talking about and so by on this I mean I had a month to feel guilty for not going to look at the cowl or picking yarn or starting the knit.  But somehow I got off my rump and got to knitting.

It took me a week and a half to get her done, but I did it.  I followed the pattern EXACTLY but because my yarn wasn't bulky, I doubled it.  While this makes the fabric warm and dense, it does inhibit the drape to some extent.  Having never seen the thing in real life, I was constantly checking other people's versions on Ravelry and kept thinking mine looked loooonnnnnggggg.  And now that I have seen the one in the LYS, I can say my version IS long. 

But my friend swears she likes it, so I am going to assume this is true. When she tried it one she gave it a little swagger. A swish and a wosh. Or something.  It does not look as long and about-to-get-caught-between-the-boobs on her, as it did when I tried it on.  I consider this a good thing. 

As an aside, the yarn I used, Rios, while lovely to knit with, SUCKED BIG MONKEY LIPS to wind.  Before I realized that CIF was a really stupid idea, I bought this yarn with various CIF ideas in mind.  The first skein was twisted and knotted and took me an hour or so to wind due to having to manually untangle the shit.  I figured it was a fluke.  WRONG.  The second skein?  A FUCKING NIGHTMARE.  There were so many knots and twists and tangles, I had to cut the yarn to get it out of the skein.  I had to ball it by hand because it was so tangled on the swift that every turn made it worse.  It took me DAYS to get it into a manageable ball. I have NEVER EVER NEVER NEVER seen such a disaster of yarn in a normal unassuming looking skein.  If, and that is a big if, IF I ever buy this yarn again, it will be with the insistence that the yarn store ball it for me.

Yarn: Malabrigo Rios, almost 2 skeins, 52 Paris Night
Needles: Addi Turbo Circs, size 6.5 mm (US 10)
Pattern: Bandana Cowl
Modifications: Doubled the yarn
Time: A week and a half.
Care: Machine wash, gentle cycle, cold water.  Dry flat.

Foggy

I've been so damn slow at blogging my knits, in this case more than two years, that the details of what I did are some what ... foggy.  NOT THAT I AM OLD AND LOSING MY MIND. I'm not.  Advanced maternal age my arse.  I'm a spring chicken dammit.  Now, what was I talking about?

So, another Christmas stocking.  I've blabbered on about Christmas stocking knitting.  A lot.  The stuff about the first stocking was useful.  The stuff about the second stocking was not really present so I guess I can't say it wasn't useful. Anywho, I am going to shake out the cobwebs and hope for the best.  I plan on knitting a third stocking next year for our third baby, who is due in April.  A boy child?!?!?  I go forth optimistically thinking I will remember something useful.

The stocking.  It was fine to knit.  No surprises or deviations. I started at the top and worked my way down, like the pattern calls for and unlike I did for the first one, where I went from the toe up.  Once the stocking was knit, I went ahead and bedazzled it.  I DID NOT BLOCK IT.  Short of a tsunami, that sucker is never going to see water. 

I have an "In Progress" knitting photo and an "In Progress" post-knitting, pre-seaming, damn what a mess photo.


  
These are of no help, and I am not exactly sure why I took them.  Though the bedazzling was not difficult, it, combined with my inexpert color work, made for quite the train wreck on the oh-so-very-wrong side of the stocking.  Also, I am not the best bedazzler ever.  Or, maybe I *meant* for the boy snowman's arms to have muscles ...

What?  Snowmen aren't JACKED?  Well mine is.  So there!  Other than some creative bedazzling, the only other issue with the stocking that I had was its length.  Having actually loaded that sucker up with goodies this year, I can say that the thing is HUGE.  It is at least an inch longer than the first stocking.

It's the second to last one on the right.  The one practically dragging on the ground. To fill it seems like a MASSIVE undertaking.  I thought I was going to have extra stuff sticking out of the top.  Instead?  Instead it was like a cavernous black hole.  It looked sad and kind of gaping in the middle.

There was another slight hiccup with the lining.  As in the first one I cut, and a sweet friend sewed for me, was too small.  I didn't account for the space the seam would take up.  Duh.  Not winning.  My second go around turned out fine size wise, though my seaming it into the stocking itself was a little ghetto-riffic.  Sometime I will tell you about the story of my sewing machine, the five+ year belief that I had lost the power cord, and the startling revelation that I actually didn't.  In the meantime, I like the stocking a lot.  It was not nearly the pain in the ass that I experienced my first go around and I am glad I knit it and hope my daughter enjoys it.  If she doesn't, I'll just pinch her.

  
Yarn: Elegant Heirlooms, Googleheims Stocking Kit purchased from Angelika's Yarn Store
Needles: Addi Turbo Lace Circs, size 3.25 mm (US 4)
Pattern: "Moonflakes"
Modifications: Added extra stripe around white name band so both top and bottom had a red and green stripe. This matched the first stocking I knit.
Time:  Ummm, two years total.  EMBARASSING.  But also due to my sewing, or lack thereof.
Care: Only use it once a year and don't let anyone touch it.

I Got Nothin

So two out of three of my last posts have been about ... clean laundry? Christ on a cracker! Can you say boring? This is what happens when you are home all the time with two midget tyrants and a third on the way. You start relishing things like clean laundry. Someone needs to have an intervention. And perhaps, it could involve some prime steak, chocolate and a Louis Vuitton or two? Hello? Anybody? Damn.

Last week I did have the pleasure of slipping on some black ice and landing into a position known as Tebowing (going down on one knee with your head bent forward in your hand), NOT to be confused with teabagging, that is a whole 'nother kettle of fish.  Anyway, me, black ice, Tebowing.  Oh, and did I mention it was right in front of about a gazillion people at ESPN?  Yah. Awesome.  Also, I am still immature enough that I jumped up "laughing" in an attempt to mitigate my humiliation and did not instead start crying like a baby because HOLY! SHIT! my Tebowed knee HURT.  And, for the record, STILL DOES. I fear I will be that 70 year old lady who falls, breaks a hip, and insists on walking away thus causing more damage, and ends up quadriplegic.

Anyway, other than my bimonthly fall, things have been pretty quite here.  There has been a bunch of finished knitting ...

Like Juliet's stocking.  Which, actually, I finished knitting two years ago, seamed up last year (and made a liner that was too small) and just this year finally made a new liner which was sized right. 

Like a cowl for a friend.  Which I did for "Craft It Forward" a most AWFUL idea, and something that one year later I have yet to complete.

Like a different cowl for me.  In which I learned that the power of my mind can not affect physics.  Or, alternatively, I am an idiot. 

I have put them up on my Ravelry page but have yet to blog them.  Which I will.  Soon.  I think.  In the meantime, I need to go upstairs and make sure my two year old has not dismantled the child locks on the window and attempted to scale the roof.  What?  That isn't normal for a two year old girl?  TELL ME ABOUT IT.

Smile

Starting the New Year off with happy feet in clean hand knit socks!

Annual

As you may recall, I like to name my Christmas trees.  So, without any further fanfare, behold this year's Christmas Tree: CHARLIE SHEEN.

Yes, he looks just fine.  Handsome.  He's not as tall as I'd prefer.  But still.  Seems good looking. Suave. HA! When you get all up in his business you realize he is CRA-ZY.  His branches grow every which way, up down, right, left, hell, some even grow back into the trunk of the tree.  He randomly sprouts HUGE GAPING HOLES.  And ...

And an ENTIRE branch just fell off.  FOR NO REASON.  Like I said, this tree is bonkers.

Winning!

This morning I went to check the laundry situation and was greeted by the most heartwarming sight ... My husband had washed my hand knots and then smartly, correctly, awesomely left them out to air dry! Score!

Done!

My version of the Moderne Baby Blanket is dooooonnnnneeeee!

My pictures leave something to be desired (to put it mildly), but I am so done with this baby, that I can't see me waiting for nice light and doing another proper photo shoot.

Yarn: Knit Picks, Swish Worsted, White, Sugar Plum, Amethyst and Parrot. Less than 3 skeins of each.
Needles: Knitters Pride Nova Circs, size 4.25 mm (US 6) ** These are a lot less expensive than Addi Turbo Circs and were just as nice **
Pattern: Moderne Baby Blanket
Modifications: Made MUCH smaller and improvised on squares once I figured out what I was doing.
Time: Less than 2 months.
Care: Machine wash and tumble dry low.

Armageddon

First the freak snow storm. Then 12 very long days without power. Now on day 14 of no cable/internet/phone. As of those alone weren't signs ... It is 11:11 on 11/11/11!!!

Progress

One more (quite) large block and it is on to the border!

Fancy Schmancy

I, without waiting in line (because I'm not a kid anymore), got the brand new iPhone on Friday! And I just figured out that I can blog from it. I also, assuming this works, can add pictures. Like the following screenshot of a conversation I had with Siri, the phone's artificial intelligence, last night.

Moving Along

Slowly but surely I am making progress, and a few modifications, on the Moderne Baby Blanket.

And, truthfully, I am enjoying this. It is pretty brainless knitting I can do while I am catching up on bad television, but at the same time, the blocks are small enough that it keeps me interested. I had mapped out how I was going to knit the various colors, but I already changed that twice ... and am probably gonna do it again. Am I crazy fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants knitter or what?

Show & Tell

This week's Ten on Tuesday is Ten Things You Did This Weekend and guess what? I actually did ten things ... you know, other than sitting on the couch and catching up on the DVR!

1) Indulged in some Starbucks Shaken Iced Green Tea, caffeine and all!

2) A family field trip to Magic Wings, a butterfly conservatory in Massachusetts. Now, I suspect I might have mentioned it, oh like a gazillion times, but I really, Really, REALLY don't like bugs. At all. So why in the hell did it not occur to me that I might not like being swarmed by butterflies? It was like Hitchcock's The Birds, only with bugs. Kind of pretty, colorful bugs, but bugs nonetheless.

Despite the fact that my skin was crawling, I sucked it up for my kids. This is what is called AWESOME PARENTING (and probably the only example of such this weekend).

3) Next to the Bug House 'o Horrors is the Yankee Candle Flagship Store. We stopped there, where, it seems Santa is fond of the knitter folk as he decorated the top of one of his trees with yarn.

4) Late lunch/early dinner at Red Robin. Specifically, a Teriyaki Chicken Sandwich with a salad ... delish!

5) Cleaning up regurgitated Red Robin. Come on now, you didn't think it was all kitten and candy over here, did ya? Take one little girl with a hacking cough which leads to coughing fits, and throw in a belly full of food, and well yeah.

6) Knitting and unknitting a Moderne Baby Blanket,

7) Harvested all of the carrots in the garden. Which, even though they average about four inches long, is way more than we'll ever eat. Ever. Want some carrots?

8) BJ's ... the store, not the verb. Y'all ain't nuthin but a bunch of pervs!

9) Outfitted my eldest with el cheapo shirts from Old Navy. There was a sale. So now she has forty-three hundred long sleeved t-shirts. Of which she will probably only wear two. Despite proclaiming her love for each and every one in the store and again before I washed them. Because she totally likes to bust my chops. Of the joy of being three years old.

10) Repaired the stroller tire that EXPLODED in the car as we were driving to the Bug House 'o Horrors. What? Stroller tires don't explode? Bullshit! It sounded like a bomb went off as we were driving down the highway. I almost messed myself. But the kids were there in the car too so I kept it together. Oh, wait a minute, why I do believe that is another example of AWESOME PARENTING. Go me!

Ribbit MDLXXXVII

SONOFABITCH! So you know how people say, "READ THE PATTERN, IN TOTAL, BEFORE YOU START KNITTING!" Yah, well I did do that. Even so I still started knitting the WRONG &^%@!$^* blanket. There is a big, adult-sized, blanket on the left page and a smaller, child-sized blanket on the right page. Some dumbass (yours truly) cast on the stitches for THE ADULT SIZED BLANKET. All that knitting I finished ...

Rrrrriiipppp. That 'swatch' up there was basically two squares, instead of one. I could have finished block two already if I was paying attention, but no, I wasn't. Dammit! I couldn't figure out why I was using up so much yarn on the first square and then it hit me that perhaps I should check the pattern again. So, note-to-self, if something seems hinky, it is!

Being Nice

So a friend, my old personal trainer, asked me if I would knit a baby blanket for her so that she could give it to her best friend as a baby shower gift. She offered to pay me, but it seemed weird since I had just asked her an exercise question and well, now, let's say I find myself knitting a baby blanket. For a friend's friend. For free. And I need to finish it like, yesterday. Mind you, I don't knit for other people. Ever. So I had to really search far and wide for a pattern that seemed quick. And easy. And interesting. Or at least not boring. Though let's be honest here, quick was more important than interesting. So now I have this ...

And I am hopeful that it is going to turn into a Moderne Baby Blanket. Like yesterday. Oh boy.

The letter B

For some reason blogger has taken to hatin' on me. Holding posts in limbo for a month or more or just refusing to publish them. Hatin. On. Me. Perhaps from my lack of use? I'm sorry. Geez. Get over yourself. Someone else might go and block and copy and try to publish the fuked posts that way, but I am, apparently, not that someone. Which you know. Sad for you. They were AWESOME posts. Not.

Anywho, I am trying again to post. In a timely manner. So we'll see. And this post is brought to you by the letter B. As in ...

Juje and I were driving in the car and I hear her sweet little voice perk up from behind me, "Mom! I have a Bug!"

Me: You have a bug?

Juje: Yes! Wite he-uh (Right here).

She holds out her hand: Bug!

Me: You want me to take the bug?

Juje: Yes, take me bug!

Me: Uh, ok ...

I use my Go-Go-Gadget Gumby arm and reach my hand back behind my seat and body and blindly aim for her direction. We make contact, and I feel something in my hand. I bring my hand back to its normal position and realize ...

Me: JULIET! THAT IS A BOOGAR! NOT A BUG!

Juje: Yes, mommy! Bug!

Perils of Gardening

Time marches onward. Apparently without my words of wisdom littering the information super highway. Who'd of thunk it? Even so, I do feel the need to tell you, no warn you, no WARN you, about the deadly dangers of gardening. What? Gardening you say. Pushaw, gardening is for little old ladies with little hats, hardly what one would call dangerous let alone DEADLY. Yah, I thought so too. Lies I tell you. All lies.

This year Jillian decided she wanted to plant carrots (thank you Curious George) and so when she got carrot seeds for her birthday, well one thing led to another and BAM we have a garden with things like basil and chives and oregano and mint and eggplant and broccoli and tomatoes and lettuce and parsnips (snuck under the radar as "white carrots" when someone was a whiny pants) and of course, carrots. Well the garden has been going along swimmingly. Sort of. There have been many animal intrusions on my tomatoes including one that took the fence down and ripped my fence polls out of the damn ground. A bunch of acrylic yarn later and that bad boy was back in business. Since then neither deer nor Hurricane Irene were able to take down the fence again. All hail acrylic yarn ... well for all things not knitting.

Anyway, I was weeding this garden of our when I almost died. Every day or so when we'd be outside, I grab a weed or two and relocate it to the "forest" that borders out property. As I never was a formal weeder, I never did formal things like "wear gloves" so it was with a bare, virgin, hand that I grabbed a weed. A weed which immediately sent pins and needles into every place in my sweet little hand that it touched. Fingers, palm, thumb, zowie! A weed so painful to touch, that when I looked down at my hand, I expected to see raw, open, bleeding flesh. A weed so deadly that it caused two of my fingers and my thumb to throb and then go almost numb. HOLY SHIT, RIGHT? This all happened in less that a minute of touching the little bastard. HOLY FRIGGEN SHIT, RIGHT?

Obviously I dropped the weed immediately, but at that point the damage was done and I planned the last words I was going to say to my children and located the perfect place to lie down and take my last breath. I took a picture of it so that when I was found dead in a heap, CSI would view my pictures and be able to determine which foul biological weapon had attacked me.

Instead of say, being SMART, and calling 911, I texted my Garden Savvy Friend Michelle. Her response to my dire predicament, "Duh, you should have worn gloves." To which I was all, yes, thank you Captain Obvious but how long until I DIE? Her response, "Well, you're not dead. Yet. Don't worry about it." In hindsight, now that I have lived, I know to never contact Garden Savvy Michelle regarding matters of life and death. So, anyhow, as my afternoon progressed, I did not in fact "die" though I did continue to have ridiculous pain in my hand. Every time I examined my hand, I expected to see slices and cuts, but there was nothing was visible. It was so damn weird. I was having a nerve damage paralysis thing going on inside where you couldn't see it. I googled the hell out of everything I could think of (like to know if it was safe for me to sleep or if I would be sleeping an eternal sleep) but nothing came up. Bizarre.

The next day, the pain had mostly gone away, but there was still some residual nerve tingleyness that I DID NOT LIKE. Which is why, that night, when I met with my knitting ladies, I relayed my near death experience. At the end of my tale of woe, my LEAST garden/plant/landscape savvy friend, was all, "Ohhh, you weeded a stinging nettle." And LO AND BEHOLD SHE WAS RIGHT.

So there you have, my near death experience. With two important lessons. First, stinging nettles (which apparently have medicinal value ... SUUUURRRREEEE) hurt like a mofo. Second, when you are about to die from an unknown plant attack, ask a knitter for info, she will know more than Google.