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Ask Me Anything #5: Other hobbies

Celtchick asks, “What with the quilting bug hitting, and then pottery, my question is:
Have you considered other fiber-related hobbies?”

I have considered ALL hobbies! Seriously. There’s nothing I like better than being seized by the passion of a new hobby. As a kid, I used to hang out in the hobby section of the library, looking for new hobbies. I was especially interested in hobbies that cost nothing, since I had no money. But I borrowed books on everything from fly-tying to matchbook-collecting, bird-watching and rock-hunting.

I spent the ages from 10 to 15 in Kinburn, Ontario, where everybody had the same hobbies: snowmobiling, step-dancing and embroidery. I didn’t have a snowmobile and I was too old to start step-dancing, but I did embroider a few pillowcases and hankies. (It’s been years since I last embroidered, but I’ve been collecting materials to make a crazy quilt, which involves sewing together scraps of fabric and lace with embroidery stitches.)

When I was 15, I moved in with my dad for a few months, and he and his wife at the time did needlepoint every night after dinner. They got me a needlepoint frame and I picked out a kit, and worked for months on a needlepoint of a little Indian child.

In my early 20s, I made about 50 rice-paper lampshades. I experimented with adding different materials between the sheets of rice paper, like japanese papercuts and leaves and so on. My signature rice-paper lampshade featured a big fat marijuana leaf in each panel.

I impulsively bought a used Nilus Leclerc floor loom about 8 years ago, at the Weavers’ Guild show. It’s huge. It folds up, but when it’s in its full weaving glory, it easily fills a small room. I’ve moved it twice, but I’ve never used it. I don’t know how to weave, and it looks complicated! (My friend Mary Jane teases me about it, but she’s a kindred spirit – she has a whole room dedicated to a huge harp which she bought impulsively and has never played.)

I also have a box of needle felting supplies which I’ve barely touched.

I tried my hand at spinning, but didn’t get into it.

Other hobbies over the years have included hunting for antiques, collecting old photographs, cameras, autograph books, buttons, vintage clothing, mannequins, boudoir dolls, antique playing cards, Victorian handbags, stamps and coins; birdwatching, geocaching, fish-keeping, fishing, creative writing, knitting, quilting, scrapbooking, playing guitar, camping, backpacking, dollhouses and miniatures, breadmaking, puzzles, macrame, journaling…

I’m sure there are many more, and they’ll probably pop into my mind as the day goes on. I know you asked specifically about fiber hobbies, Celtchick, and I’ve veered off course a little. But I think I covered all my fiber-related hobbies in this post.

Questions for Celtchick and everybody else: Are there other fiber-related hobbie you think I should consider? And what are your hobbies?


The Ask Me Anything series will continue for the next little while. If you have a question, ask it in the comments or by email at zoomery at gmail dot com.

Ask Me Anything #4: Romance, Part II

This is the second part of my response to Patti about romance. Part I is here.


My love life wasn’t always a bed of roses. Most of what I know about romantic relationships, I learned the hard way, by making lots of mistakes. (I think you can learn a lot from studying your mistakes, especially the ones you make repeatedly.)

1) When the initial wild rush of falling in love fades, as it inevitably must, it doesn’t mean you’ve fallen out of love.

2) If a relationship has run its course, it’s best to end it in a timely manner. If you catch yourself half-hoping he has a fatal accident on the way home, you’ve waited too long.

3) Put plenty of time between relationships. Otherwise, you run the risk of choosing your next partner solely on the basis of how they differ from your most recent ex. (For a particularly appalling example of this from my own catalogue of romantic disasters, please read Bad Luck Bob, in which I explain why I married George, the incompatible stranger.)

4) If you wake up next to someone you just met, do not say to yourself “I’m not the kind of person who has one-night stands, therefore this must be a relationship.” Do not let him move in, do not support him, and do not spend the next two years trying to make it work, especially if he’s not your type and you have nothing in common.

5) Force yourself to talk about the hard stuff. Do not sweep problems under the carpet and try to forget about them just because you dread confrontation. You won’t forget about them. The toxic accumulation of unresolved issues will ooze out from under the carpet and slowly poison your relationship.

6) After the novelty of a new relationship wears off, it’s easy to start taking your partner’s qualities for granted. You just get used to them, and you stop noticing and appreciating them. Keep a list of the things you love about them, and review it frequently. Even better, keep adding to it if you can.

Should a good relationship still take hard work?

Hmmm. I’ve read many times that good relationships are the result of hard work, but I’m inclined to think not. A good relationship is good largely because the partners are well-suited to one another. I think every relationship requires a certain amount of routine maintenance and compromise, but I don’t think a good relationship should require much hard work.

However, bear in mind that my record for a relationship is six years. In my experience, relationships are easier in the beginning and get harder over time. Maybe if I’d worked harder at them, they’d have gotten easier and they’d have lasted longer. (On the other hand, please refer to Point #2, above.)

Let’s face it, this is not my area of expertise. What do the rest of you think about Patti’s question? Does a good relationship require hard work?


The Ask Me Anything series will continue for the next little while. If you have a question, ask it in the comments or by email at zoomery at gmail dot com.

Ask Me Anything #3: Romance, Part I

Patti asks: “I would like to read your thoughts about romantic relationships. What has life taught you about them? What makes for a good relationship or a bad one for you? should a good one still take work, sometimes hard work?”

Such a timely question, Patti, because today is GC’s and my 50th anniversary! Fifty months, that is. We had our first “real” date on July 13, 2008, and it just happened to be televised. (You can see us at the 20-23 second mark.)

(Happy anniversary GC, and thank you for the happiest 50 months of my life so far.)

Patti, I’m going to address your questions in two parts. Today I will talk about what I’ve learned from (and about) good relationships. It’ll be the shorter of the two posts, because most of what I know about relationships, I learned the hard way. I’ve made WAY more than my share of mistakes, and some of those mistakes I kept making over and over and over again, even after I recognized that they were mistakes.

What makes a relationship good?

The single most important thing is choosing the right person to have a relationship with. I believe we’re each capable of loving many different people, so it’s imperative that we choose wisely. That would include, I think, trying to find a compatible match with respect to the following:

  • Someone you genuinely like and respect, and who likes and respects you back. You’ll never be happy loving someone you don’t like and respect.
  • Someone with compatible values and political views.
  • Someone with shared interests, or a willingness to cultivate some together. (GC and I  have taken a bunch of courses together, including mixed media, creative writing, drawing, pottery and quilting.)
  • Someone who is flexible (especially important as you get older).
  • Someone who is thoughtful and considerate. (I first recognized this quality in GC before we even started dating. We were walking down Bank Street at lunchtime one day when we encountered a pile of dog poo in the middle of the sidewalk. GC whipped a poo bag out of his back pocket and scooped it up. It wasn’t just that he did it, it was that he was so happy he had a poo bag in his pocket.
  • Someone you can laugh with – like really laugh with. (GC came back from a walk with Rosie the other day and said “Knock knock.” “Who’s there?” I asked. “Interrupting Cow,” he said. “Interrupting C–” I said. “MOOOOO,” he said. I’m still laughing.
  • Someone who can do voices, like Ernie on Sesame Street, or Cheech and Chong.

I’m sure I’ve missed a few things, so feel free to add to this list in the comments.

 


The Ask Me Anything series will continue for the next little while. If you have a question, ask it in the comments or by email at zoomery at gmail dot com.

Ask Me Anything #2: Marigold's Quandary

This question was sent by email from someone who prefers to remain anonymous, so we’ll call her Marigold.

Marigold recently won an overnight stay for two at a local hotel, breakfast included, valued at $160.

Marigold’s sole source of income is ODSP, which is Ontario’s social assistance plan for people with disabilities. It’s more generous than regular social assistance, but it still requires that one be unflinchingly frugal to make ends meet.

A friend of Marigold’s has offered her $40 cash for the hotel prize.

Marigold could definitely use the cash, but it would be a rare treat for her to spend a luxurious night in a hotel.

She has asked me to ask you for advice. Should she keep the prize or sell it for $40?

The voting booth is open!

 



The Ask Me Anything series will continue for the next little while. If you have a question, ask it in the comments or by email at zoomery at gmail dot com.

Ask Me Anything #1: Where's the knitting, Knitnut?

Yesterday, in response to Ask Me Anything,  Thatdarncat asked “Where’s the knitting, Knitnut?”

Excellent question!

Seven years ago I decided to blog, and since I was really into knitting at the time, I started a knitting blog.

I soon realized I didn’t have a whole lot to say about knitting. Some people, like the Yarn Harlot, can talk about knitting every day for years on end and still be interesting. I am not one of those people. I was neither a skilled knitter nor a prolific knitter. There was nothing that distinguished me as a knitter; I just liked to knit.

As with most of my hobbies, I was passionate about it for awhile, and then I  became passionate about something else for awhile, and then something else. And so on.

Of course, a wiser, more self-aware person might have considered this trait when naming her blog. She might have chosen a more generic blog name. For example, I always liked Abandoner of Hobbies’ blog. She shared that same trait with me, but she had the foresight to name her blog accordingly. (Eventually she abandoned her blog, just like she predicted she would right from the start.)

But back to the question: Where’s the knitting?

Answer: In my sewing room closet.

Let’s go visit it.

When I abruptly stopped knitting a couple of years ago, I was making a pair of socks for GC. My primary knitting affliction is that I can’t fix my mistakes, and I usually make things worse when I try. Three regular readers of this blog (Grace, Merle and Carmen) all fixed my mistakes on GC’s socks, which I never finished:

GC’s sox, with love in every stitch.

And here is my Central Park Hoodie, which I wish I’d finished because I would love to wear it. I knit 80% of it in a week, and then abandoned it:

Central Park Hoodie – all the pieces are done except the hood.

I fell in love with this basketweave vest, which I saw in a magazine. I went to great lengths to acquire the exact yarn, which is not sold in Canada and which was out of production everywhere else. My beloved basketweave vest has been 90% finished for about four years now.

Basketweave hoodie vest – I think all the pieces are finished.

This is a yoga mat bag that just needs a handle. Penelope says it also needs an inner lining, otherwise it will stretch from the weight of the yoga mat.

Yoga mat bag. Just needs finishing touches.

This was my sole attempt at lace knitting, which the woman at the store insisted was too complex a pattern for a beginning lace knitter, but I thought “I’ll show her.”

Ambitious lace shawl, barely begun.

Here’s a pumpkin hat I was knitting for my niece’s daughter, Chelsea, for her first Halloween. I completely forgot about this one.

Forgotten pumpkin hat

And here’s my stash:

My stash. I have excellent taste in yarn.

Thank you for your question, Thatdarncat. I was long overdue for a visit to the closet and a fondling of the yarn.


The Ask Me Anything series will continue for the next little while. If you have a question for me, ask it in the comments or by email at zoomery at gmail dot com. I’ll answer them roughly in the order they’re received, except when there’s a time-sensitive question. (The next question is a time-sensitive one, and the person who asked it specifically said it’s for everybody, not just me. Watch for it later today.)

Ask me anything

I would blog today if I could think of something to blog about, and I would have blogged yesterday too if I could have thought of something to blog about.  It seems I have reached the bottom of the blogging barrel. I assume it’s just temporary, but time will tell.

So, while I’m waiting for the ideas to start flowing again, let’s play Ask Me Anything. I’ve seen this on a few other blogs. I seem to recall that XUP used this method to generate blogging ideas to sustain her through NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month, in which one commits to blogging every day for a month. Also known as NaNoblahblah).

Here’s how it works. You ask me questions in the comments or by email (zoomery at gmail dot com), and I’ll answer your questions in blog posts.

Subject-wise, anything goes. Just don’t ask me about stuff like transhumanism and its relation to quantum computing, or the hardness of simulating Newtonian physics.

 

I have a drug problem

I have a drug problem.

I’ve been getting 3-day migraines roughly once a month for the past 15 years or so.  If you do the math, that means I’ve had migraines about 10% of the time.

I only found out a year ago that they were migraines. Before that, I just thought they were bad headaches. I took a lot of over-the-counter pain meds, which had only minimal effect, and mostly I just waited for them to go away.

It’s amazing what you can learn to live with.

About a year ago my doctor gave me some free samples of Relpax. Next time I had a migraine I tried one, and I was astonished and ecstatic when it actually worked. No more three-day marathons of pain.

Sometimes it works completely, other times it works partially. Either way, it’s a dramatic improvement in my quality of life.

My doctor was able to keep me supplied with free samples until recently. The last time I saw her, she only had a sample pack of two pills. My typical migraines eat three pills over three days, so she wrote me a prescription.

Tuesday I took the second-last pill. Wednesday I took the last pill. Thursday I went to the pharmacy and learned that the cost of 12 Relpax pills is $205. Or $51 a migraine.

I left without getting the prescription filled.

At that price, I’m forced to have a conversation with myself about whether Relpax is a necessity or a luxury. Since I managed without it for all those years, maybe it’s a luxury. On the other hand, since it dramatically improves the quality of my life, maybe it’s a necessity.

You know what really burns me? My drug costs soared at the same time my income plunged. Until I got laid off in 2009, I had a drug plan I barely used because I almost never had a prescription to fill. And then, practically the minute I lost my job, I developed all these health problems and needed prescription drugs that I had to pay for myself.

I’m down to just the anti-inflammatories and anti-cancer drugs and the optional anti-migraine pills now, but it’s still expensive. I feel like I can’t really afford it, but I actually can if I must.

What happens to people who literally can’t afford their prescription medications?

Compatible quirks

GC and I went to Haveli’s in the market for the all-you-can-eat Indian lunch buffet a couple of weeks ago. Before eating, I paid a visit to the washroom, where I encountered a woman washing her hands. She appeared to be doing a very thorough job, and was in fact still washing her hands after I’d left the room.

Out of curiosity, I kept an eye on the door to the washrooms, to see how much longer she’d be down there. She didn’t emerge until after GC and I had filled our plates and begun eating.

“Obsessive-compulsive disorder,” I said to GC.

It was our lucky people-watching day. She joined her husband, who happened to be sitting at the table next to ours. She wiped her cutlery carefully with her napkin, and began to eat. They ate in silence, as if they’d been together a very long time out of sheer force of habit but had nothing left to say to one another.

I wondered what it must be like for him, living with a woman with OCD.  I guessed he was used to it by now.

And then, just as I was thinking that, he took a little bottle of Purell out of his shirt pocket, squirted some into his palm, and meticulously sanitized his hands.

He repeated this procedure three times during the meal. Meanwhile, his wife made another trip down to the basement to scrub her hands.

There are some disorders where two people with the same disorder would repel one another – for example, a relationship between two narcissists would never work out. Even people with two different forms of OCD might be incompatible. A hoarder and a neat freak, for example, would be locked in a never-ending battle of compulsions.

But two compulsive hand-washers, on the other hand, would be completely compatible in this one unusual way.

 

The Terrible Twos

My son never went through the Terrible Twos. He breezed through two just as sweetly as he breezed through one. He was friendly and agreeable, and we got along happily almost all the time. (He was a very good negotiator though. His second sentence, for example, was “Not yet, soon.”)

He really was a nice little boy. Everybody who knew him thought so. And I assumed, rightly or wrongly, that my parenting style was working. I must be doing something right if my child was so nice and easy and happy all the time while all his two-year-old cohorts were being so Terrible.

This is the problem with raising one child. You give yourself credit for everything good, and blame for everything bad. You overestimate your influence. You don’t get to see, the way parents of multiple children do, that there are fundamental differences between children from the outset, and these fundamental differences interact differently with your parenting style, producing different outcomes. James just happened to be a sweet little boy who bypassed the Terrible Twos.

So imagine my surprise when Simon flew headlong straight into the heart of the Terrible Twos. I had heard that African Grey parrots go through it, but I guess I thought my parroting style would help him bypass it. No such luck. Practically overnight, Simon turned into a full-fledged Brat.

It started with biting me. At first I thought he was just doing it for fun, but now I think maybe he’s trying to make a point: “You’re not the boss of me.”

The next thing was flying like a madman all over the place. Up until now, he has flown as a form of transportation, to get from Point A to Point B. This kind of flying makes sense to me. But now he’s flying all the time, all over the place, every time he’s out of his cage. This would be okay (and in fact, it’s very nice on a hot day, since he generates a fair amount of breeze) but he seems to be using flight as a form of intimidation. He flies fast, whizzing by people’s heads. He flies at the other birds, averting course only at the last moment. He flies and swoops and freaks everybody out.

The third thing is that he’s picking on Kazoo. She’ll be sitting on a boing (a vertical spiral rope perch hanging from the ceiling), minding her own business, and he’ll fly over and claim the perch for himself and start lunging at her with his beak. Then they’ll have a face-off on the perch, with much lunging and counter-lunging. Generally Simon gains the advantage, and Kazoo ends up leaning way back, trying to avoid Simon’s beak, too off-balance to actually fly away, and I have to rescue her.

Even though Simon’s going through this brat stage, he still has a few moments of sweetness every day. I’ll give him a kiss and tell him I love him, and he’ll say “Wow!” in the most adorable little girl voice.

 

 

 

 

Only Pets

I still watch the Birds for Sale category on Kijiji, just in case. (In case of what, I’m not really sure. The last thing I need is another bird.) Last night we went to Critter Jungle for dog food, and of course I stopped by the bird section to say hello. Two birds – a cockatiel and a parrotlet – showed a great deal of interest in me. They were curious and sociable, which are both excellent qualities in birds. But GC dragged me out of there before I could fall all the way in love with them.

I have five pets, which should be enough for me. (Some days it’s even more than enough.) And each of my five pets has four siblings, so they’re not all alone and lonely when I go out. Unlike these guys, who are Only Pets.