Argh, Ivories

piano Yesterday all the bipeds in the Casa visited the dentist. No cavities; all three of us are religious about brushing and flossing. Our dentist has become accustomed to us, and knows to warn me before he brings anything sharp near my mouth. Mostly because of that one time he came at me with a needle and I almost levitated out of the chair. (I think he probably tells that story at parties.) Then it was grocery shopping–again, with every biped in the house. The kids actually asked to go shopping with me.

I suspect some of that is because whoever comes with me gets to lobby for a treat or two. But I’ll take it.

The day ended with pizza and me banging my head on the keyboard because the next piece in my piano book is a lead sheet. And I do not get chords. The Vs and the 7s in particular, I just DO NOT GET. And intervals–there seems to be a few different sets of interval values, and I can’t tell when to use which one. Even with a teacher explaining it, I didn’t get it. It seems like it’s something very simple I just haven’t found the right way of explaining to myself yet, so my frustration mounts accordingly. Someone suggested Musical Theory For Practical People, so I suppose I’ll give that a whirl.

My frustration reached such a pitch I almost cried, so I finished my practice and got out all my old knitting supplies, organized them, put together a bag of unfinished projects to frog, and started an infinity scarf for the Princess. (The dogs had no idea what to make of THAT particular burst of activity.) Once I figured out casting on again, it was extremely satisfying and calming. (I signed up for Ravelry a couple weeks ago, so I knew I was getting the knitting bug again.) Since I don’t have time to get into weaving (eventually I will), knitting will have to be my relaxation. Plus, the needles double as stabbing implements, so I can be armed and relaxed at the same time.

Add to that the mass shootings–that’s plural, of course, because the gun lobby profits each time bodies hit the ground–and I just want to crawl back into bed, possibly with my knitting, and turn off every goddamn electronic except my iPod. Bonus for canine snuggles.

But I have to write, or we don’t eat. So it’s Steelflower today, and opening up the third Gallow & Ragged so I can begin revisions. Maybe I should write the next combat scene in Steelflower to get a little aggression out.

Back to the salt mines, then.

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Justin Gustainis

Knitting needles are even better weapons when you coat the tips with fugu poison (scientific name Tetrodotoxin), a substance garnered from the sexual organs of the Japanese blowfish (I’m not making this up) which acts similarly to curare in that it paralyzes the central nervous system and causes the victim to stop breathing. For its use on knitting needles, see the last chapter of Ian Fleming’s “From Russia, with Love.”

Just sayin’

martianmooncrab

buy the knitting needles in multiples so you wont run out if you break a few.. grin.