It was obvious from my first visit to Main-Lee that this new mistress would require more of my attention than dart league. I had no idea that the hours would command such time though. At least I can spend Mondays and Tuesdays at the London Underground and see my friends there. (Or so I thought!)
Now I know it would seem disorganized, but I have to knit for my writing. Combined with playing darts, they do not give me any luxury on my wrists. For each night I had to play in a match, I needed to avoid knitting the day before and day of. Even then, the pain in my wrists became so great that one night I took enough aspirin to cause stomach pain. As much as I enjoy throwing a good game of darts, I love knitting and my work even more. Add the travel I will be doing, darts in public will be no more.
So it is with great remorse that I stop playing in dart league and start using the time for my new-found hobby in art. Note some of the consolations in store:
1) I still have Martinettes Happy Hour on Fridays at the Pub. I can play darts with Gary and other friends who happen to be there.
2) The new restaurant 622 North will feature a couple of dart lanes. Their wine and tapas bar beckons to me!
And finally…
3) My own dartboard cabinet has been set up at my new place, SomeBunnysLodge. Here I can play a quick game when I feel like throwing.
Missing darts? Maybe in public, but not in private! =:8
To those folks who have not figured it out yet, I have many interests that run the gamut in sports, hobbies, technology, food, and drink. In the last six months I have been more determined to have no regrets because I want to try all that I can even if doing so causes pain. A few recent events have happened, and each offers its own lesson.
- Getting back in the saddle has more meaning now than falling off the mechanical bull I rode with @ShepherdSusie. I have started back into yoga and aim to lose the weight I gained since moving here plus the ten pounds required by my diabetes. I am also doing all I can to overcome sudden financial barriers that have appeared to blindside me. At least my new career has developed into a dream job that I absolutely love, and that I am grateful.
- Folks whom I had thought are friends were never ones in the first place. I now am surrounding myself with people who are worthy of my trust. These local friends and acquaintances are fellow professionals that I cherish in my private circle with my fiber arts pals, bunny-loving friends, technology fans, social media cronies, and fellow sports mates throughout the world.
- Seeing death calmly and peacefully does not allow the emotional and mental anguish to pour out. The passive cuts are slowly bleeding my soul. I am addressing each one in my own way — nurturing and repairing constantly. Each healed piece fills the jigsaw puzzle of my normally “hoppy” self. In time what I feel inside will match the energetic smile I always share in public.
Recently to lift up my spirits I have been alternating “The Princess Bride” with “For Love of the Game” (another one of my favorite movies). Kevin Costner is the starring lead as the MLB Detroit player Billy Chapel who is pitching against the New York Yankees. During his game, he shows the same drive and selfishness that I require of myself to achieve my goals. In my favorite scene, it is towards the end when Billy feels that he cannot continue with the game, his catcher replies:
“Chappy, you just throw whatever you got — whatever’s left. The Boys are all here for you. We’ll back you up; we’ll be there. ‘Cause Billy, we don’t stink right now. We’re the best team in baseball right now right this minute because of you. You’re the reason. We’re not going to screw that up. We’re going to be AWESOME for you right now.
Just THROW.“
Still on the edge between failure and heroics, Billy Chapel pitches poorly in the inning. He notices that his manager has begun warming up the bullpen and gets antsy. He then hears his father’s words in his head:
“Billy… Billy, you can do it. Just calm down. Throw the ball to the glove.
Just play catch.”
Whenever I am feeling down, I recall this scene. The two words “Just throw” could be applied in so many ways. “Throwing” is a technique in both knitting and crocheting. “Throws” are also known as blankets or shawls. Marketing and public relations speakers “throw” out pitches and ideas. Weekly I “throw” darts at a board with my awesome Blacksburg Area Darts team, Perfectly Awful. My goal this spring is either to find a team to play softball or to play rugby (lots of throwing there!). I constantly am “throwing” out my thoughts and feelings on Twitter, Facebook, and Plurk. It is when I step back, think, and not “Just throw” but also “Just play catch” that I finally relax. =:8
As of late I have been dipping my foot (well, okay more like diving in head first) into areas that I have not been in touch with for years. My taking up of throwing darts has been a nice challenge. I find myself improving each week in every league match, and concentrating on form is paying off. The throwing motions seem to complement the ones used in knitting. While each dart must be precise to the target, each stitch must be knit to turn a pattern into a well-fitting garment. The latest result of that steady work is winning the “Luck of the Draw” tournament with Jack (my team captain) as my partner. We split the first prize of $50 and each received a tee-shirt from Awful Arthur’s.
Now that I have found a hobby to balance my awesome knitting-related occupation, the need to address my physical activity is next on my agenda. Early yesterday morning I received a phone call from Shannon, a co-worker of my friend Charlie. He had told her that I played rugby years ago, and she wanted to know if I would like to practice with the Blacksburg Rugby Club men’s squad. Before I could think about the consequences (aka a sore body from running in freezing weather and being tackled on the icy ground) my answer was “Of course!” She then forwarded me some information and I attended my first meeting last night at The Pub (London Underground Pub in Blacksburg). I look forward to getting back into shape with the crazy amounts of running. The improvement of body coordination is also a benefit I want. The one question to answer is “How can I convince ten women to form a sevens team to play this summer?” Stay tuned to see if I bite at the bait to recruit women in the area to play with me!
In case folks new to my blog are wondering how darts and rugby tie into the “Making Eggs” topic, please read “Making Eggs – Part 1” when possible. To “Let me sum up” (a skein of sock yarn to the first person who comments which movie that quote is from) I came back to Blacksburg to discover myself. Whether it be in going back to school, a new job, a temporary place to live, or a new group of friends, I am trying to figure out how I like my eggs. So far the Boys and I are doing okay, even with the downs from the apartment and low available funds. As for the latest favorite way I am making my eggs? I have been frying two in unsalted butter yolks broken with coarsely ground sea salt and black pepper. I then cover the seasoned eggs with melted shredded sharp cheddar and sprinkle bacon pieces on top of them. I have named it my “breakfast pizza” and yes, it is oh so good. How good? I ate the pizza before taking a photograph of it because I did not want to eat it cold! =:8
For those who know my little head, I am consistently changing my mind when the scenario calls for it. I tell folks that I am adapting to my surroundings by instinct. Others say that I am just being a woman. No matter what the topic, I do come back to the beginning, just like Inigo did in The Princess Bride. With the 2010 Winter Olympics kicking off tomorrow at Vancouver, Canada, it is only fitting that I do not one, not two, but THREE projects in the Knitting Olympics to ease my ever-moving thoughts. Yes I know that there are only two sports in which two events must be tackled. However I just could not choose one without impartially whining for the others. I humbly present a triathlon of Fair Isle, Cable, and Lace:
So I am a little crazy. But I have figured out a couple of things:
One is that the knitting will go faster when my mind is going from piece to piece instead of the entire project at the same time. The other is when I thought only professionals in the knitting world could try such a feat, I then realized that I have become what I have dreamed about! To make the whole scenario even more fun, I get to blog about these crazy challenges. 
My schedule will go as follows:
Simultaneously cast on and knit the Sylvi sleeves during opening ceremonies. As soon as the sleeves are done, the first Fiddlehead Mitten is cast on and knit. After the mitten is finished without its lining, the Pash-Greena will be cast on and two skeins will be used out of the allotted five. The rotation goes back to Sylvi…
Of course all of this scheduling is subject to change, especially if I decide to drive up to New England tomorrow. (I am still on the fence about that, but I dislike the idea of being alone for Valentine’s Day.)
If anyone can wish this crazy bunny luck, I will need it! (Or at least lots of wine, beer, and aspirin for the pain in my wrists…) =:8
There was an episode of Sex and the City in which Carrie discovers that Big has replaced her with a younger woman — Natasha is 26 years-old and screams “I am PERFECT” in droves. The following episode depicted Miranda becoming immensely upset when she runs into ex-beau Steve after he pragmatically dumped her. Both of these episodes discuss dealing with broken relationships and how they were handled by the characters. I likened these personal relationships to my work interests. Some are still unresolved under my belt, and I must address them sooner than later. I have a bit of an analysis already in place with some explaining to preface.
Years ago my addiction to surfing occurred because my sister wanted to learn the sport. Since I was the only sibling with a driver’s license, I would accompany her to Croatan Beach on a bodyboard. After easily boardriding the waves on my stomach, I decided to try riding a wave on one “dropped knee” on the board for fun. Seeing how I was able to ride the bodyboard, my sister handed me her surfboard to do the same. Instantly I fell in love from the feeling achieved in catching that wave and dropping down from the top of the crest. Later I spent hours (okay, more like YEARS) in the water trying to grab that bit of adrenaline, and would still be trying if I could.
Gary Busey’s Big Wednesday character of Leroy “The Masochist” Smith became one of my role models. Leroy had no problem going into the water no matter how dangerous the conditions were, and I dove into that persona with the water and in life (and still do in many ways). With each season in the water I learned a little about myself. I learned what to do when a shark swims straight at me (that happened during my first trip to OBX). I learned that the gorgeous greenish “Coke bottle” glow in the water during dawn was from an amazing combination of the light, water, and plankton. I learned not to dismiss the lack of booties when surfing in the middle of March. (There are folks who surf in these cold New England waters, but frankly I steadfastly avoid any chance of getting hypothermia again.)
What does surfing have anything to do with my analysis? Nature provided endless entertainment in the water because surfing each individual wave was consistently a new experience. My attention to work was dependent on its variety and possibility. When I was introduced to rugby, the newness of playing exhilarated me. I was able to get into “hunting” modes that fed my cravings for adrenaline once again. While I was at work, I listened for those cravings to speak, but all I could hear were muffled words spoken to me as if I had been underwater. I strained to comprehend the mumblings in vain and became lost. By the time I could understand the words it was too late. Interestingly enough, because of what I heard, the cravings are back. For the past several weeks ideas popped into my head that addressed potential issues for Verdasys. These anecdotes have been scribed and filed away for now. Meanwhile I hear mumbling from my knitting and house WIPs. They want me to attend to them immediately, and I will be giving them my rapt attention. =:8
Last year, Rich took me to a NASCAR race in Loudon, NH. Skeptical, I went knowing that the drive would mean great knitting time. I cast on and finished a pair of worsted weight cabled socks using Classic Elite Inca Marl Alpaca which reminded me of a checkered flag. I do not remember how I made them because they were “off the cuff” so to speak. BUT, I do remember that they were top-down and knit 2-at-once.
This year, I was looking forward to going to see a race. Luckily, Rich’s co-worker decided not to go and again offered up his tickets to Rich and me. Snatching them up, we planned our trip in anticipation. My anticipation was due to trying to figure out what to eat and to knit. Rich’s anticipation was to make sure we could carry everything without having to use the bulky cooler from last year.
The drive up was not so fun because the rain poured down on us like a hurricane. Rich kept reminding me that the more it rained during the drive, the less chance the race would be called off. Not believing him, I imagined that as soon as we arrived to the New Hampshire Motor Speedway (NHMS), an announcement would be made saying the race was being rescheduled for Monday. Fortunately my pessimism was for naught. By the time we arrived at the Montgomery County High School, the skies stopped their weeping. We joined all the other riders and climbed into our police-escorted buses and were sent along our merry way to NHMS. I knitted my Secret Pal’s socks the entire time from the drive in RI and only stopped when I needed.
Our arrival to NHMS was timely. The race was only delayed so that the track could be dried. During our wanderings around the souvenir trailers, we stopped to get something to eat and drink. Finding a table that did not drip directly on myself, I continued working on my Secret Pal’s socks. I even made Rich take my photograph while doing so, humidity-flattened hair and all! 
Ironically there is not much to really discuss on what happened that is worthy of being written. I kept taking photos of the pit crews because I thought it was neat how they were vigilant and always ready to pounce in front of a moving car’s path to work on it. Biffle did win the race, but I will let all the photos do the talking! =:8
Baseball is something I can obsess over besides anything knitting related. After playing my first game of softball, I find myself desperately wanting to improve so I can make those awesome catches that the professionals do so easily. To refresh a couple of memories, I adore baseball and HAVE to watch it daily. If I cannot watch a Major League Baseball game — does not matter who — I listen on the car radio and root for the team who has players that I like.
This past Sunday was a special treat. A month or so ago, I spotted an email from Red Sox nation saying “enter for a chance to win tickets for RI Day” and did so. I shared the links with other RI pals, but ironically, non-RI-native me won a chance! On the day allotted to purchase the tickets, I was sick in bed. If there was anything I was going to do while miserably sick, it was to at least buy those tickets! When noon hit, I did my best to grab the best seats as possible, and managed to get 4 box seats in right field. I had no idea how close the seats in the park, but I did not care. The original idea was to see if a couple of friends could join us too to share in the fun. Lo and behold, newlyweds Kerri and Mike were interested in the tickets and were up for a great afternoon.
To say that Kerri and Mike are Red Sox fans is the biggest understatement of a lifetime. They had looked into having their wedding at both Fenway and McCoy Stadium, but decided that the emptiness would feel too odd and offer a non “Red Sox” feeling. Plus, they told me that just to get married on the Fenway Park roof started with a $3000 fee — does not include the food/catering! In other words, to get married on field itself, be prepared to start the tab at $15000. FYI: Years ago in 1998 having a Disney wedding required spending at least $10000. Sorry, I would rather have that over Fenway. But I digress…
To say we had a blast at the game is an understatement. Though we could have done without the rain delay, the dark clouds that were in the sky were ominous. Add the lightning and the weather was not quite as nice. I took a ton of photos, so much that the camera’s battery died in the 7th inning! Hope everybunny enjoys them. =:8
Well maybe not everywhere, but this crazy bunny ended up playing in our fourth softball game Thursday night because of the “3 women must be on the playing field” rule in our league. What? I never mentioned that I play softball? Teehee, nobunny is missing much. I had never played before until a month after I started working at my new job and was told about a team being formed. Knowing that I lack the hand-eye-coordination to catch or bat, I warned folks that as much as I would like to play, I would not be a good player but would be a good cheerleader. With the first two games postponed due to rain, somehow I ended up in the batting line-up in the third game. I surprised myself by actually hitting the ball for a base hit and out-running the throw to first! Wow! Excited from being able to get on base, I called my (high school jock) sister “Ace” after the game. I could tell she was proud for me. Admittedly I think losing the extra weight helped in running around the bases. Now if I could only lose those last additional pounds… 
Clicking the photo of myself on base will show how badly I felt during Thursday’s game. I kept coughing up a storm, and my misery was evident. We did win 24 to 17, so at least my pain amounted to something! One of the coolest shots is of us after we said “good game” to the other team when everything was over. The three men in the middle consist of one of my co-workers Ron (#11), my boss Jerry (grey cap), and QA extra-ordinaire Mike (with glasses). The photos above are from a friend from work, Misha. He has a fabulous camera and is one of our team’s “official” photographers. The photo below shows the other photographer Rich M. in the background and Misha in the foreground. I remember taking the photo, but was getting agitated because I could not find it. Later I realized that I was using the coach’s camera, not mine. DUH! The other photo happened when I drove home on Thursday. Right after the game, it began to rain, then it downpoured. Driving on the newly grooved Route 128 highway was not fun. Attempting to Kinnear a rainbow in the downpour is also not fun! Please excuse the blurriness, but it was the only shot of many that shows the colors best.
Now with the title mentioning bunnies, I just had to post some recent photos that I took of my fur-children in action. Today Zydeco kept flopping on his side, so I just could not resist snapping the camera at him. The other is his “giving disapproval” look on taking his photo the other night.
For the crazy part, Julius is still pining for a girlfriend and keeps hoping Jessica Bunny will give in and be his. Unfortunately for him, this middle-aged biddy has other thoughts. By the way, that photo of her and him together is her biting him in an attack!
Teehee! Time for the Secret Pal 12 Question of Week 8!
What is your favorite supper for a hot summer evening? (For added “flavor”, post a photo or recipe link)
With this SP12 question, I had to think for a bit but only for a short time. My favorite meal ever during the summer was just over (gasp!) 13 years ago. My sister Ace, our room-mate Anita, their (now husbands) boyfriends, my “puppy” (that was what my rugby teammates referred to the hapless creature), and I cooked a bushel of blue-crab along with a couple pounds of butter. Pair that with cases of cold beer and white German wine, and that is a feast to remember! Lately I have a tendency to pick up 2-3 pounds of King crab legs or large shrimp. Somehow those and lobster salad sandwiches seem to be the summer treat in the house. However, since showing a photo is mentioned, I will happily show everyone what I eat about every morning. A two-egg omelet (well that day it was a frittata) of bacon, cheese, onions, and tomatoes paired with a parfait of fresh fruit, granola, and yogurt. Add my cup of tea and loads of water, that is what I eat daily for my diet! =:8
Take me out to the ball game,
Take me out with the crowd;
Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack,
I don’t care if I never get back.
Let me root, root, root for the home team,
If they don’t win, it’s a shame.
For it’s one, two, three strikes, you’re out,
At the old ball game.
Enjoy the photos! =:8
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