I’ve been tagged again to list six weird things about myself. I found this difficult the first time, because I am — I feel sure you will have noticed — a really normal, ordinary person with no particular weirdnesses about me.
Has it been long enough that I can list the same things? Hoping so, I offer you these weird, or at least statistically unusual things about me:
1. I went to college at 14, and finished my MA when I was 21.
2. I suffer slightly from agoraphobia. This leads to some specifically weird behaviors. My sons suggest that not answering the phone is the weirdest. Really, I answer it a lot more often than I used to. However, I still do not like talking on the phone, so just email me, okay?
3. I read a lot of books. I don’t think I actually spend more time reading than other people, so I suppose I read faster.
4. I don’t chat with my animals. My daughter tells me this is weird.
5. I get up early, even on my days off. My daughter tells me this is weird too.
6. I started getting gray hair when I was eleven years old.
Mayflower has some more interesting ones up, if you found these too dull.
I am now supposed to tag six more people. Rachelsent tagged me, so she is out, and I do not want to retag anyone. So I think I will tag universehall, rampaige, craftymommavt, dingus6, lostarts, and knitsteel. Tell us your weirdnesses!
The concert was a qualified success. I say a qualified success because there were some real errors. Some people were singing wrong notes. In the church choir, there is a widespread belief that if you all sing the right notes, it is a rousing success, but my view is that anyone who sings in public has to, at minimum, sing the right notes. I was shocked that people were standing up there singing the wrong notes, and I don’t know what was wrong with them.
There was also one tenor who kept singing loudly, even in the pianissimo sections, even when the director specifically pointed at him and shook his head and frowned and did everything but yell, “Shut up!” Perhaps this is an odd form of stage fright.
A couple of the poem readers messed up, too. I am thankful to be able to say that I was not one of them. The director introduced my poem by saying that, once love was gone (we had just sung a set of lovely sad madrigals about broken hearts and breaking up), we turned to friendship.
This suggested to me that he did not intend the poem I was reading (by Walt Whitman) to be understood as sexual, so I read out the verses about high-towering manly love with Boy Scouts and hunting buddies firmly in my mind.
It was fun, in spite of the flaws. Thinking about it, I realized that, last time I sang a concert with the Chamber Singers, it was a completely different group of people. Same alto section, and we were singing the right notes as usual, but there have been a lot of changes in the other sections. Perhaps these other folks get nervous and make errors in performance. Or maybe they’ve been singing the wrong notes right along and the acoustics in the room made it more obvious. Anyway, The Empress said that there were “some nice moments,” which is either damning with faint praise or praising with faint damns.
Here is a Fuzzy Foot, with pen alongside for scale.
Yes, I am using a circular needle. I am using the “Magic Loop” technique, which is an irritating quirk which slows a person down and probably messes up the knitting as well. I don’t even think it deserves to be called a technique, personally. Double pointed needles are much better. However, I just never use giant needles, except for felting — and not even then, always. I’ve felted several things made on size 8 needles. Sizes 1 to 6, that’s my range. I have lots of needles in those sizes, and just can’t bring myself to shell out for dpns in a large size just to make one or two felted objects a year.
Instead, I knit things slowly and crossly with this one oversize needle, pulling on its cable all the time and keeping it looped around so that it wouldn’t straighten properly if I ever wanted to knit something large on it. Am I being unreasonable?