Now Norma Knits

350. Are You Ready For This? A Special Stupid Tuesday Edition of Now Norma Knits, With A Little Book Review Added For Extra Fun

How to take part in the world's most stupid exercise:

Step 1.  Buy rather expensive laundry appliances from a reputable and trusted dealer. 

Step 2.  Pay money for them to be delivered and installed. 

Step 3.  Pay money to simultaneously have a licensed plumber available at the time of delivery because he has to unhook the gas from the old gas dryer and hook it up to the new one. (No one can touch gas hookups except the gas company or a licensed plumber. Preferably one with an IQ higher than 12.)

Step 4.  Discover, after the installers leave, that neither appliance works. 

Step 5.  Listen to the stupid Typepad-esque answer of "It's probably your fault."  Argue the point.  Demand that someone come make them work. 

Step 6.  Have them come, purportedly fix them, then leave, when you're gone. 

Step 7.  Return home to find them NOT fixed in the least.

Step 8.  Rinse and repeat (Not the laundry.  The appliances don't work, remember?  The process. It's a figure of speech.)

Step 9.  Return home after a stay away because of bad weather to find that one of the two now works (the water pipe threads were stripped by the first installers), but the other doesn't. 

Step 10.  Throw a tantrum and insist that the other one get fixed or they can come pick up their hunks of steel and "gimme my money back."

Step 11.  Wash tons of laundry that has been building up and hang it to dry on racks (At least it's economical, green, and probably the Right Thing To Do.  Except when one has just bought a $1,000+ appliance to do the same.)

Step 12.  Call the plumber and ask, "John, um...is it, um, possible you, um, did not turn on the gas?"  (You can see what's coming, can't you?)

Step 13.  Listen to the plumber reassure you, "Oh, yes.  I came back a second time to be SURE it was on. Your dryer is going to work, don't you worry.  All you have to do is turn it on and off manually four or five times.  Well, you might have to do it 12 times, because there is air in the gas hose.  And then it will work."

Step 14.  Stand there stupidly turning the dryer on and off for the next 2.5 hours, at least 1,009 times.  Still cold. 

Step 15.  Scream bloody murder to the sales place.  Get a call from the repairman, who says, "It must be that the igniter got cracked during delivery."

Step 16.  Go to work before the repairman arrives Monday morning.

Step 17.  Arrive home after work to get the message from spouse that......

have you guessed it yet?  Of course you have:

Step 18. The *&^%$# gas had not been turned on.

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It was only the extremely timely arrival of my copy of Franklin's book

that saved me from doing something drastic. I turned to page 1 and started laughing.  It was one and three-quarters hours later when I stopped to catch my breath, only to realize that I had completely lost the urge to disconnect the gas dryer hose and duct tape it to my mouth. 

Oh Franklin, you are a sweet, funny dear, and now you may add Suicide Interventionist to your already impressive resume.

If I had gone to Harvard, do you think we would have ended up married? 

Oh. 

Well, yes, there is that. 

Never mind, then.

This book is a delightful and refreshing little gumdrop.  Franklin's humor is smart and fresh and genuine, and you don't have to be a knitter to get it.  When I put it down briefly to stir the pasta sauce, I had to wrest it from my non-knitting husband's hands so I could keep reading it.  That, my friends, is an endorsement. 

If you don't already have the book, ask Santa to put a copy in your stocking -- it will fit in there so nicely.  Make sure you take a pee before you open it, though.  Honestly. 

281. Are Ya Woman Enough to Handle It?

I read that someone said it's too big.  Well, don't that beat all.  I guess some women can be satisfied with iddly-piddly, but, hm.  I kinda like big.  And hard[covered].  I was once told by some of my British friends, "Everything is bigger in America."  Who knew?  Perhaps it's true.  Well, and then there's the what you do with it, too, that matters.  I mean, it can't be big and just sit there, resting on its...you know...laurels. It's gotta have some substance to it.

Anyhoo. 

I got my copy of Mason-Dixon Knitting Outside The Lines the other day. It wasn't sent to me to review -- I ordered it -- and I wasn't asked or even authorized to write this review, but this blog is a monarchy and I'm a Vermontah.  I do as I wantah.

After reading that curious "too big" review and before the book arrived, I thought, "My GOD, what have I DONE?! Are we going to need a truck to deliver this thing up the driveway? A winch to pull it into the house?  Am I going to need to do more pushups with the mixed martial arts guys in order to lift this sucker? Get a back brace?  And most importantly, will I be woman enough to handle it?!" 

I got all goose-bumpy, wondering.

 

Huh. 

Nope.  Just a regular old knitting-book size, something like, I don't know, most of the other knitting books on my bookshelf.

But it doesn't just sit there! No, it doesn't!  It's chock full of the wonderful smart writing style and humor of Ann and Kay, and designs by them and by other wonderful designers like Bonne Marie and Anna Bell and others of that highly talented ilk.  It's overflowing with creative and sophisticated and timeless knitting designs like this stunner by Bonne Marie:

and soft-and-pretty and just-plain-adorable and rough-and-tumble little family-pleasers like these:

 

and Mason-Dixon signature-type home decor designs, too.  There are the beautiful, artistic, and practical things like, for example, these:

And what Mason-Dixon book would be complete without the whimsical?

(A felted advent forest. Martha would be so proud.  And couldn't you envision these with little googly-eyes, as ghosts, or with antennae, as Martians, for Halloween? Or garden gnomes? Or elves or as Harry Potter sorting hats at a HP-themed birthday party?  .... Well, apparently I have gotten entranced by these little buggers and I'm getting carried away.)

...and what Mason-Dixon book would be complete especially without the warshcloth? (...by any other name...)

(Careful, Mr. Jefferies -- you could become a mop if you don't behave!)

We got yer Stephen Colbert socks, too.

Can we tawk?  These might even make me a sock knitter, just because I think Stephen Colbert is sexy in an odd sort of "you are cute -- even with the weird ears -- and brilliant and hilarious" way.  Plus, Ben & Jerry's made a flavor for him, and Ben & Jerry's is made in my home town, so, you know, it's almost like we're buddies. And I imagine he has big *ahem* feet.  [Stephen: Call me! I like 'em big! Word!] 

Now, I am not the most prolific or talented knitter on the planet, but I have always had a thing for knitted coats. One day I'm gonna make one (or two).

  Maybe just like this one.  It'll either be the coat or the size (I can only hope!) that'll be the death of me.  But what a way to go. 

Nice.  I'm satisfied.

Hey...... you got a truffle?  (It's the new cigarette.)

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P.S.  The Red Scarf Fund total stands at $2,450 from 74 donors.  Is that another big milestone I feel coming up?  Or are you just happy to see me?