Saturday Box Report

I'm at that point where it seems like everything is complicated.  In all my knitting projects, but also in the whole transition process.  I also feel like all I ever blog about is boxes.  But that's all I seeeeee. 

All the easy boxes have been unpacked.  The easy boxes are the ones where you know exactly where everything should go, or maybe there's only a few things in the box, or the contents have the same place they had in the last house.  And of course, I am positively furious that THIS box has followed me here:

The stupid "blinder" box.  Why?  Will I never get rid of this box?  And now I really have no idea what is in there.

All that's left are boxes full of stuff and crap.  I open them and think, "What is all this crap?  Where am I going to put it?"  We've filled 2 boxes for Goodwill and several trash bags.  There is nothing like moving to make you question your material possesions.  While part of me trembles at the idea of doing this all again in a year, part of me looks forward to getting rid of even more stuff with the next move.

I've decided I do love this house.  It's crazy with closets.  Now I just have to find new places for our things.  In the old house, DH had built shelves in each of the kids rooms for their many, many books, stuff, and treasures.  I had thought we'd get some of the cheapo, build-it-yourself shelves for each room like these:

DH grudgingly built one and hated it.  They're particle board, flimsy, bookshelves, but they are cheap and moveable.  We already have 2 of them that are easily 10 or 12 years old.  I don't know if he was just having withdrawal symptoms from being away from his powertools, but he decided that he'd make bookshelves in the kids rooms.

Awesome.  Umm...the shelves are awesome, too.  Now the kids can finish unpacking and putting away their things.

Unrelated mention:  I bought everyone their own bag of Hint of Lime Tostitos. 

There were mild accusations of certain family members bogarting the chips and others not getting their share.  The children are foolishly trusting us not to pinch out of their bags when they sleep.

On Thursday night, I drove over the mountains to the west side of El Paso and met Michelle at Starbucks for some knitting.  It was so great to sit with another knitter and get away from the boxes and the mess.  But that was when all my projects reached the complicated point. 

I reached the end of the Moving to El Paso Guacamole socks and have used every bit of the yarn.  However, I didn't split the skein evenly and one sock is shorter on the ribbing than the other.  That'll teach me to be all "whatever" when weighing the skein.  At least I didn't weave the end in of the first one so I can rip back a few rows and use some of that yarn for the second sock.  I don't need the socks to be all that long, but I WOULD like them to be the same length.

The Soleil tank is at the point where the pattern says to begin the separation for the Vneck.  But I remember that a common Ravelry complaint on this project is the neckline is too low, so I need to figure out how to modify it a little higher.  It seems like I don't want to split the neck before I begin the armholes, but that's more thinking than I can think these days.

I even worked on Alex's socks a little.  But now it's time to do the color work, which means finding the book and two strands of yarn right now sounds stressful.

Those Pale Spring Rose Shirred Rib socks?  I was working on them way back before we moved, the day that Indiana Jones opened.  Remember them?

Sitting in the theater waiting for the film to start (which, aliens?  C'mon, Indy.) I dropped one of the purl 3 together stitches.  I salvaged the stitches I could grab and stuffed the thing away, knowing that this was going to be a pain to fix.  Yesterday at the swimming pool, I took them along with a crochet hook and after some tinking and muttering, managed to get them going again.  I had to, because right now, they are the only project that doesn't require some sort of fixing or concentration.

That's why I did the best unpacking this afternoon.  I unpacked my sock yarn.  What a soothing task.  So many beautiful colors, so many soft skeins, so many possibilities.  Time to get new pair started.

Comments

[Krista at AfternoonMoon]

Congrats on having a husband who can use his power tools correctly! And is willing to do so! I love my DH's ability to make me things! congrats on yours!

[Carly]

OMG, I'm glad I'm not the only one who HATED the Aliens. When we walked out of the theatre, I turned to Jake and said 'Really, THAT is what they could come up with after 20 years?'

Good luck with the blinder box. It took a full year after moving for us to get rid of that one box that hangs on with everything that is undecided. The only reason it got done that quick is we had to pull the carpet out of the room the box was in :)

[Ava]

I still have three boxes in the attic that are unpacked after ten years. I think - THINK - they are little knick-knacks of the girls but I can't be 100% sure.

I liked Indy for what it was: a mindless bit of fluff on a hot summer day. They didn't "youngify" Karen Allen, who was great, but the aliens were a bit much . . . just a bit.

[weezalana]

Hey, wanna loan your hubby out to make some kitchen cabinets?

[Marie]

Best of luck unpacking. It's been over 9 months since we moved into our new house and our living room is still full of unpacked boxes, mainly because I have no idea where to put all this stuff.

[Jeannie]

Those shelves look so much better than those cheap pressed wood kind. Yummm...I love those chips. I've now lived here for 9 years and we still have stuff in boxes. Okay, it's old college stuff that I can't part with yet, but I just don't want to put it somewhere either.