H is for...

H is for HAMMIES!! Gotta love the little rodents. It all started my senior year when the biology class did their reproduction unit. Each year, they breed something different: duck eggs, chicken eggs, ostrich eggs, etc. Well, my year, they let the class hamsters loose together, and poof! baby hammies (no, I was not in Biology, I took Chemistry; thus "poof! babies"). One of my friends took a pair home for her little sister, and they were just the cutest balls of fluff, that I started begging Mom to let me have one. She kept saying no. A few weeks later, I was telling the Bio teacher my sad tale and she said that there was only one baby left if I truly wanted one. It was a sign. We russled up a box (latex gloves, I think, it was a lab after all) and I took her home without telling Mom. [kids, don't do that at home] She was so small and cute, I kept saying she was a little munchkin, and the name stuck. Mom wasn't amused, but what could she do? Munchkin was already home.

Our favorite game was to jump down people's backs or sit on their heads. It's really funny to watch someone with a hammie down their back, trying not to spaz out as tiny hammie claws scritch on their skin. Sometimes we would ride in a pocket and fall asleep there. Sometimes we would pee there, too. But she was just a little hammie, she couldn't help it. (John says hammies missed that gene where animals never pee where they sleep, because hammies always pee where they sleep!) Aside from a few humorous escapes and the accident that damaged some of her toes (ask Mom about having to soak a hamster's foot in epson salt water), Munch lived a ripe long life with us.

When she passed, the Bio class was breeding eggs, so I went to the pet store and got a panda. Her official name was Rogue, but because she was a biter, we often called her Vlad the Impaler. I called her Madame when talking to her, trying to be polite so she wouldn't bite. She wasn't as friendly as Munch, but she was a cutie all the same. I don't blame her for her biting; I chalk it up to pet-store-syndrome: kids tapping on glass, me getting her at an older age, not being handled much when she was young. She was still a good hammie.

Then, in college, I was searching Petfinder.com one day out of boredom. But I knew myself enough that I knew I would not be able to withstand the sad stories of the puppies and kittens, so I was looking in their "small and furry" category. It just so happened that there was a friendly hammie from the SPCA near where John lives. I made arrangements to meet the foster mom, but when I got there I was asked, do you want a baby too? Ginger Momma had come to the SPCA pregnant! So I took home Ginger and Baby... and had apparently used up all my creative juices in naming other things because they have stayed mostly "Momma" and "Little One." I did learn something new with them, though: hammies don't live together well. John said I had an illegal underground hammie fighting ring, because they would fight all night long! So I got a new cage and separated them, and Little Girl said thank you! She has probably doubled her weight since then, now that she doesn't have to fight for food. Bad me.

And now for some random hammie cuteness...

Like most animals, you can scruff hammies, too. But I feel so bad doing it!

We call this look, above, the Cobra Ham. When they stuff their cheeks totally full, they look like little cobra hoods all flared out. Very amusing.

Ginger Momma was intent on helping Victoria with her homework... or showing her the differences between a mouse and a hammie.

Munchkin was the sweetest hammie ever! She realized St Nick needed a bit of help at the holidays, so she offered to deliver gifts with her own tiny reindeer.

Munch was also very smart. She could do the crossword in pen (with some white-out nearby in case she really messed up).

New Motto in Life

Through random discussion with a friend, I have found my new motto for life:


DON'T WASTE CALORIES ON BAD PIE.


I think that it is applicable to all aspects of life, in a life-is-short-so-do-what-really-matters kind of way... but it mentions pie, so that makes it better.
Pie makes everything better.

:)

ABC Catch-up Part 2

D is for DDO! (Dungeons & Dragons Online game) John got me set up with my own account and everything (well, currently I am in the 10-day free trial, but still!) And we have the best guild ever: it's for Warforgeds only and we call it "Roll Out!" ... and we ask that you name your characters after any original Transformer character, or have some form of Autobot in your name. John is "Ottobot" and I am "Bumblebea." Yes, we are dorks. :) Autobots, Roll Out!



Currently I suck at computer / video games because I did not grow up with them as John did, but I am a good sport about it all. I run into rooms with enthusiasm, yelling, "CHOPCHOPCHOPCHOP!!" ... and then I die and John has to revive me. That's why I like to play tanks-- they have crazy amounts of armor that keep me from dying, and they have big whackin' sticks. :)


E is for Eeyore who often feels gloomy.




F is for Fwank. That's Mistah Fwank to you. And he's a Siamese cat, so he has the attitude to back that up. Currently, Mother has given him a rattly catnip ball and he is acting like a little fuzzy crack junkie. John calls him antisocial, but he's really not that bad. Frank just has his people, and if you are not one of them, he really doesn't care about you. He's not mean to you, just indifferent. Now, though, when one of his people are late home from work, let me tell you, THEN he cares... and he lets you know.

ABC Catch-up Part 1

A is for Asakusa, home of the Sensoji Temple (628 AD) and Asakusa Shrine in Tokyo. Well, this first picture is just the gate to the temple, the second is actually the temple itself. The gate, Kaminarimon or "Thunder Gate," has a huge paper lantern that says "thunder," as well as twin statues of the gods of thunder and lightning and of the wind.






If you can see it, smack dab in the middle of the road before the temple, there's a small kiosk type roof with several people gathered around. That is the incense burner whose smoke is said to have restorative properties when wafted over ailing bodies. I can't refute or corroborate fully, but I can say that my knees didn't hurt for several days after I paused here. :)


But what's a temple without a little shopping? Since the temple was first built hundreds of years ago, it has been a place for tourists and pilgrims. Any self-respecting merchant would thus put up shop near the temple to cater to these out-of-towners. Nakamise-dori is the name of the street that leads from Gate #1 to Gate #2 of the temple complex and it is slammed packed with vendor stalls. Everything from food to kimonos, from doggie clothes to cell phone charms, from weapons to wood block prints. (I actually got several calligraphy and wood block prints here. They are super nice. And I tried some nasty Japanese pastry.)



On my first night out of jet-lag, some of the people staying in my guesthouse invited me to "a little street festival down in Asakusa." On the way there, I was talking with one of the few English-speakers, and he explained that the Sanja Matsuri was one of the largest and oldest festivals pretty much anywhere in Japan! Definitely not the Pungo Strawberry Festival (though the food's better in Pungo). It was a fun way to start my time overseas.


B is for boots... of all shapes and sizes. Whether they be stilettos or steel toes, I love 'em!
'Nuff said.




C is for (the) College of William and Mary, alma mater of me, my sister, and my boyfriend (well, I had to meet him somewhere, didn't I?) Oddly enough, neither Lara nor I got scholarships for having parents named William and Mary. There should totally be a scholarship sponsored by the history department for people who have William and Mary parents. I mean, legacy kids get money and their parents only went to W&M; my parents are W&M.


Class of 2007, BA in Psychology and Sociology (which means I am looking for work! :P)
Tribe Pride!

C is also for caving! I got started back in middle school with the Girl Scout program, and I was hooked. Mom, Lara, and I all now are adults with the Scouting program (well, not so much Lara now that she's out in California). We take the girls twice yearly to West VA for a long weekend to go caving.



Each January, we put on a workshop for younger girls called Cracks, Crevices, and Crawlways. There they get to learn about caving through relays, obstacle courses, and slide shows. We stay up all night building the cardboard and plywood caves that the kids get to crawl around in; tiring, but worth it! The girls always say they have so much fun.

Lara and I also joined up with some other caving buddies and we formed the Grapevine Grotto. Grottoes are local chapters of the National Speleological Society- essentially, a bunch of people who get together and go caving. What more do you need?




... apparently, I have a lot of C's

G is for...

G is for gloves! So, working in a knit shop and all that, a few months ago I started this weird fascination with the sock yarns we had in stock. I swear you can't find more fun colors and patterns than in sock yarns (and you also get that really small knit stitch which I think looks so much more professional and smooth than chunky weight yarns). More specifically, I was in love with some Lorna's Laces and was desperate to use it. So, when a glove class came along at work, I jumped on board with both feet... mixing metaphors with each step.

First, I made myself a pair of fingerless gloves (which actually I am thinking of adding tips back onto, but still leaving the index bare, a la Knitty's Cigar Smoking Gloves) and then I got half-way through another pair before John demanded a pair for himself. Since all my family lives in Florida and has no need for knitted goods, I jumped at the chance to knit for someone else. So on our trip to Disney, I annoyed the heck out of him by making him try on the half-finished glove every few minutes so that the fingers would fit properly... but! he now has a pair of custom-fit gloves. So all the 13hours of grumbling was worth it. He also has a matching double-sided hat (basic cuffed beanie out of the Tofutsies sock yarn and black Misti Alpaca).

But wait! the glove saga isn't over! Mom and her running buddy thought it would be nice to have matching green gloves when they ran in the Shamrock Half-Marathon since "spring" in Tidewater VA is notoriously capricious. So I had to churn out a pair each for them as well (Pagewood Farms's hand-dyed sock yarn is so pretty). whew! Everyone at the store laughs that I know that glove pattern by heart now and don't even need to look at it anymore, or our ladies comment on how it must drive me crazy to work on such small needles (size 0). But it really isn't too bad if you are comfy with doublepoints to begin with.

So the moral of my glove story I guess is: if you want to impress people with what you are knitting, make up some gloves. They are on lots of tiny needles but they knit up fast which means they look hard but really aren't at all.
:)