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January 15, 2003: Playing with string

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The good news is that I've finally gotten back on my bike again. The not-so-good news is that going several months without once touching the pedals means that I can't go quite so fast as I once was able.

We did a short ride (about 5 miles) on Monday to and from the grocery store (which then turned into an interesting lesson in physics as I attempted to strap a refill bottle of fabric softener to the rack of my bike for the ride home). Tuesday somehow twiddled by and we never did get out on our bikes, so this morning we gave it another go.

I'd hoped to do the 11 mile circuit that goes over the freeway and back, but I've apparently become the biking equivalent of a snail so there was only time for 6 miles before I had to hastily change back into regular-people clothes in time to get to the blood center for my platelet donation. So the grand total for the year so far is only 11 miles. But I suppose that's better than nothing. And there's still time left in January to keep racking up the miles.

I actually passed the iron test this time around, which meant that I actually got to donate blood and thus earned my certificate for a free pint of ice cream. Plus I got to watch most of Kate and Leopold while sitting there with the tubes hanging out of my arms (since platelets take longer than whole blood). I picked this movie because the previews had made it look predictable but still cute (because, after all, it has Meg Ryan). Unfortunately I didn't get to finish the movie. So if some kind reader out there has seen the movie and would be willing to fill me in on what happens after Leopold films the commercial, I'd greatly appreciate it!

I am excited to report that as of this afternoon, I now know how to knit. Um. Sort of. We have not yet progressed to purling, whatever that is, but after today's lesson I have a chunk of knitting a few inches long, with only a few random floopy bits sprinkled amid the stitches. The floopy bits, I should point out, are those places I accidentally dropped a stitch, or did something equally dumb that ended up with some kind of weird hole or extra loop or something. The woman who is teaching me, however, has cleverly declared that my first project is to make a cat toy (she knows me far too well - heh), so by the time the cats are done with it, no one will notice how well it was originally constructed, floopy bits and all. And perhaps I'll get all my missed-stitch issues out of the way with this thing so that I can progress on to more useful things like scarves and mittens and possibly a sweater that I might actually be willing to not only wear in public, but admit that I made. However, I suspect I'm jumping way ahead of myself here, and should just stick to my little pale-green cat toy thing, chock full as it is with the floopy bits.

And now that I write this, I am struck with the urge to go play with green yarn and see how effective knitting is going to be in a house with seven cats who never caught on to the fact that they're no longer kittens and are supposed to be calm and quiet and not pinging madly around the house like crazed elephants. If I get enough of this thing done, on Sunday she says she'll show me how to finish the edges so we can move to stage two of the cat-toy creation. Plus it will keep me occupied and far away from the upstairs guest bathroom where Richard is currently replacing the toilet flushing mechanism, with much muttering and strange sawing noises. I probably don’t really want to know. Hmm.

Today is my journalversary. Three years ago today I posted my very first entry.

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