A Movie Meme and Sock Wars III

The Movie Meme

Saw this one and had to join in. Here are 10 lines from some of my favorite movies. Some are obscure. Kind of like me. All are on IMDB, but don't cheat and look them up. I'll post answers when someone posts a comment with the right movie. Some of these are painfully obvious, but still some of my favorite movies that make me laugh.

1. How much for the little girl? How much for the women?

2. Sometimes you gotta say "What the F*ck", make your move. Joel, every now and then, saying" What the F*ck", brings freedom. Freedom brings opportunity.

3. Badges. We don't need no stinkin' badges.

4. After all, the wool from a black sheep is just as warm.

5. Pick me out a winner Bobby.

6. Yippee-kay-yay, mother f*****.

7. You be careful out among those English.

8. Get off my plane!

9. No matter where you go, there you are.

10. Would you mind not shooting at the thermonuclear weapons?


Now for some knitting stuff. I made this shrug for my sister out of Shaefer Yarns Elaine in the Coretta Scott King Colorway. Looks completely different. The yarn is a joy to work with. It is a thick/thin yarn -- 99% merino with 1% nylon. Finished it on Easter at my sister's house where we had dinner.

The day before Easter, which was also my late father's birthday, was the Grand Re-Opening for Ewe and I. It was a bittersweet day. The customers were great -- we had great traffic. But I really wished he had been there to see it all. I know he was looking down on me and was proud, but I would have turned over everything in the register and more to have had him there.

Mom saw the shop for the first time. She picked out a colorway of Plymouth Baby Alpaca Grande for the same shrug I made my sister. I didn't have time to wind any of the yarn at the shop, so I had mom hold the skein around her hands on Easter night so I could wind the first skein into a ball. I cast on and now it's almost done.

My one regret about owning a yarn store -- I have less time to knit now than I did before. Hopefully, Mom's shrug will be done in the next day or so. I may have to knit a wedding shawl in the near future -- my niece is deciding if she would like some lace to wear with her wedding gown. I would be honored to knit it for her.

Finally, Sock Wars III. Some of you might know that registration is now open for Sock Wars III. If you don't know what Sock Wars are, try this article in the Wall Street Journal. For anyone who stops into Ewe and I with a copy of their e-mail showing they registered for Sock Wars III, they will get 20% off sock yarn and appropriate needles to "arm" themselves for battle. So long as you have not been assassinated, the discount continues. May the fastest fingers win. We are ordering some of the "official" Tofusties color, if that's your poison. Otherwise, we have tons of neat sock yarn for you to pick off someone with.

Well, it's taken me about five days to write this post -- better get it online.

Up from Under an Avalanche of Yarn

OK.  I can breathe a little now.  The shop is up and running.  My employees are great. I would die without them.  I have even had a day off  (Easter).  Most of the old stock and most of the new stock are out.  I even finished a shrug for my sister -- based upon the Plymouth Baby Alpaca Grande Pattern, but I knit it in Schaefer Yarns Elaine in the Coretta Scott King colorway.  Now doing the same shrug in variegated baby alpaca for mom.  She picked out the yarn at the grand opening.

There's the big news.  We had the grand reopening of Ewe and I on Saturday.  It was my father's birthday.  Sunday, was Easter.  This was a tough weekend for all of us.  We have my mom staying with us for the week helping with the girls who are off from school.  Keeping her busy is the main objective.  With an 8 year old and a five year old, that shouldn't be a problem.  

Maybe, I'll remember to take picture next time.

Well, I've been a bit busy

As many of you know, I am in the process of buying Ewe and I, a long-standing knitting and yarn shop here in the Philadelphia area.  Well, last week we moved from the Bryn Mawr location to the new location in Narberth.  Prior to the move, I was suffering from delusions.  You know the kind -- sure we can pack up a knitting store, take inventory, install a new POS system and unpack it (while the contractors are still painting) in four days and be open on March 1.

Okay.  I was on drugs.  

We opened, partially, yesterday.  

Some of the stock is out. We're getting there, but I haven't had a day of less than 18 hours in the last two weeks.  

I'm very tired.  I'm going to pour more coffee and put more yarn in the inventory system.

Begging the Yarn Harlot for a visit

Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, better known as the Yarn Harlot, has a new book coming out the spring and has just released the beginning of her tour schedule.  Generally, this would be cause for rejoicing, except that nothing in the Philadelphia area is listed.  So I have taken to begging.  I've offered up the new shop in Narberth for a book signing and event with Stephanie.  I'm not sure how far to go with the coordinated campaign of begging, but I'm thinking long and hard about it.

Too much construction going on for much knitting to be going on.  The HVAC guys are almost done at the new location.  I've chosen the carpeting and paint.  Drywall should go in next week.  Electrical is this weekend.  The phone guys come on Feb. 26.  Please continue to pray that everything is finished by March 1 when we open the doors to the public.  

No pictures lately.  I did knit a 4-skein Sinsations felted scarf for my Mom and promptly forgot it at home when I went to see her earlier this week.  I'll get a photo up this weekend.  

Cheers.

Knitter vs. knitter

Years ago, I read a story in the New York Times about the impostor syndrome.  Theory was that professional women were living with high levels of anxiety in fear that someone would figure out that they didn't know what they were doing.  The women who suffered from this the most were usually the best at what they did.  As a young attorney, I sometimes suffered from this syndrome, even though I was quite good at what I did.  The subject persists -- see this recent article in the New York Times.  

Similarly in knitting, there is the Knitter vs. knitter theory.  As explained by the Yarn Harlot has a theory.  We all start as knitters with a lower case "k".  At some point in time, some of us become Knitters with a capital K.  For some Knitters, the transition is steeking.  (See Vene, Vidi, Steeki in The Yarn Harlot.)  For some, it is colorwork, Fair Isle, or something else.  

I have wondered for some time know if I am a Knitter or a knitter.  Here I am buying a knitting, yarn and fiber store, and I don't know which category I fall into.  Kind of scary, eh?  

Well, today, while working at the shop, I realized that I'm a Knitter.  I helped a variety of people with what they considered to be huge problems (big enough to get into the car and come to the store for help with problems) and I was able to explain a variety of techniques and methods.  Even better,  they all understood what I was talking about.  I taught people about knitting today.  And I didn't even have to think about what I was doing.  It was all second nature to me.  

I had an epiphany.  (Cue the lightbulb over the head).  I am a Knitter.

Free At Last

Well, I guess I need to makes some changes at the blog.  I'm still a lawyer, but only practicing slightly part time because I'm buying a knitting and yarn store.  I'm so psyched.  My last day at the law office was Monday.  I worked the Super Bowl sale at the store on Sunday.  I worked in the store today.  I'm having too much fun.  Really.  I mean it.  :)

He's Gone

I never thought he would die first.  I don't know why.  My father was the rock.  He was strong and silent -- kind of like John Wayne, but in a first generation Italian immigrant kind of way.  He died on Monday with my mother and I at his side.  It was peaceful.  He was not in pain.  I guess that's the most any of us can ask for.  

We come into this world and are put into the arms of someone we love.  What better than to leave this world with the people who love you holding your hands.  

I think I have mentioned before how wonderful the staff at the Major University Medical Center were.  They showed compassion and kindness.  There are not enough words to thank them.  They have earned their angels' wings on earth.

As for dad, he's playing the best courses, probably with some of his favorite senior golfers and having a martini (half gin, half vermouth, please) at the 19th hole.

He turned for the worse so quickly.  Starting on Friday, he had a seizure.  We had another scare on Friday night.  He was holding on for Sunday.  We had a party to celebrate my sister and my daughter's joint birthday.  Many years apart, but same day.  Whole family gathered at the hospital for dad, since the party had to come to him.

Cannolis from Termini's.  Cake and Italian cookies from Termini's.  And a pitcher full of martinis so we could toast dad.  He had a few sips, with the doctor's blessing.  He sat up and while he could not sing out loud, you could see him moving his lips to sing happy birthday to my sister and my baby girl.  (Thank god for the niece to reminded us it would not be a good idea to light the candles on the cake since he was on oxygen.  I can see the headline now, "Family Blows Up Cancer Wing with Birthday Cake" - Film at 11.)

Monday morning, I dropped mom at the hospital, intending to go to the office.  It was supposed to be my last week.  I'm buying a yarn shop in a month.  I'm wrapping up my law practice.  I never got into the office.  From the garage at the office, the phone rang.  I turned around and drove back out across town to the hospital.

The chaplain on call was a rabbi.  I didn't catch his name, but there were too many tears in my eyes to read it.  Dad was Roman Catholic.  The Rabbi said a lovely prayer and read the 23rd Psalm.  My dad had his eyes open until the psalm finished.  He closed his eyes and was gone.  

Now, we have taken the show on the road and in far, northern New Jersey for the traditional Italian wailing fest known as the viewing and the funeral.  Mom was in no state to make the arrangements.  So I've been on the phone almost non-stop.  I think I've gone over my minutes for the month.  Oh well.  

We are going to celebrate his life.  He was a quiet man.  He was a humble man.  He was a source of strength and comfort to me throughout my life.  While he didn't go to church regularly, he was one of the best Christians I ever knew.  He never said an unkind word about anyone, no matter how terribly they had treated him.  He was ready to help anyone.  He was practical and sturdy.  He could fix anything.  He was my McGuyver -- give him some string, peanut butter, two sticks of gum and some paperclips and he'd build you a working car.  Nothing was ever too broken for him to fix -- especially my heart.  He encouraged us to follow our dreams and be true to ourselves.  

If I am half the parent he was, I will be doing one heck of a job.

I love you Daddy.

I'll miss you more than I can say.