Fibre is good for you

First it was like:

Then it was like:

And this afternoon it was like:


To be continued.

For knitting geeks, the orange shit is Silk Garden Lite, colour 2047, I guess, with strawberry red, pinkish and brown bits cut out, and it will be on the shoulders. There's a hole for the head somewhere in that mess pictured.
The next yarn is Malabrigo Rios, colour Arco Iris or Indiecita.
The teal-with-things is Noro again, Ouchou, colour 8, closely followed by Silk Garden, colour 8, whose blue bits are happily used for another sweater I may or may not show sometime later.

First world problems

My feet are size 42. For most of my grown up life I wore 41 and it wasn't exactly comfy. I still sometimes get something in size 41 (Yes, I'm talking about those Beverly Feldman shoes from fleabay, but BF fits okay and one pair were thongs.) The Marc Jacobs ballet flats were cheap and 41. I decided they would work. They worked although it cost quite some effort to stretch them - and they are rather narrow than short as such.

When summer came, I started wearing thongs and sandals. Now I'm in Prague, I need to go to some discussion panel at the Ministry of Education so I took decent shoes with me. Said Marc Jacobs. On the first day, I decided that less than comfy is not a problem, I won't do any major walking etc. Today afternoon, I was highly inclined to go buy shoes NAO but it's rainy and I'm wintery-depressed and I had a problem with dragging my tired body to the metro station to go home.
During the Pilates class, my feet grew a few more blisters so I plastered and band-aided them and stumbled home, thinking that there's a shopping hell on the way so I'll act spoiled and go shoe-shopping at 9 pm. Shopping hell was open but the boutiques were closed. I fail to see a point of open mall with closed shops but I'm not your typical consumer.


The report on getting size 42 shoes in a country when normal range ends at 41 and the existence of abnormal is denied will follow.

I'd better be working.

Instead, I'm listening to some quarter tone jazz, shopping for fabrics and generally http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifprocrastinating.

And trying not to poke the roadrash on my elbow.

I'm taking the wager seriously, or at least halfway seriously, regarding my ever-enormous consumption of chocolate. Around a month ago, I scratched my toes against the curb and there're still some pretty thick scabs. Yesterday I cycled for a while. I wanted to ride across a small wooden bridge to see what's on the other river bank and in the middle, my brain caught up, screamed Eeeeeep, I iz scared of falling into the big scary river and I leaned against the railing. Railing made of un-de-barked wood. The problem of jeans with huge pink spot (it was wool dye, it shouldn't dye cotton, damn) and the question of spot removal was solved by tearing said jeans, I proudly showed my battle wounds at home, which mom commented that I should be getting band-aid in bulk.

I couldn't find the something-cain ointment in the morning and now I'm hurting.

But, I've lost some two kilos since the last time I checked. So what.

The pasta chronicles, part 427

For your own mental safety, do not ask for more.

I had a pasta lunch and then I went for a cycling trip and had to stop for emergency vomiting. I swear that I'm going gluten-free for real*.

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* At least until the next yummy cake.

My inner self

Yay for technology. Now the whole world can see my knees. Should there be a person of medical persuasion, I'd love to get a clarification on what 'patellar dysplasia' means outside the veterinary realm (Wikipedia, source of all and sometimes wrong knowledge, mentions something related to dogs) and whether it is related to my left patella being out of place - I guess that the left one is wrong because my left knee hurts.



There's also a heel available.

Eeeep.

I found a picture of yours truly some six years and 30 kilos ago.



Disheartening, isn't that.

In fact, it may be only 27 kilos ago. And I thought I was fat, then. I might have a pic from the times when I was anorexic and thought I was fat.

Random strangers

On Friday, I was sitting on the train, minding my own business and knitting a sample of something striped.
Then I pulled out a hank of Rios, untangled it, placed it on my knees and started winding a ball. A lady two seats away gestured that she'll hold the hank for me. I though she was a knitter, too, but she said she wasn't - she only used to hold a hank for her mother. Hi, friendly stranger, there'll be pics of said sweater in distant future, stay tuned.


A day later, on a bus, two Korean ladies were utterly fascinated by the fact that I knitted and stared out of the window. And that I knitted, for that matter. As it happened, a while later, two Japanese guys filled the other seats around me and expressed something between wtfitude and amazement.


I wonder, is the meme that only grandmas knit spread in Far East, too?