Mists rising is what we really wanted to title this book; so singular, so soft is our Mohair Plus: floating up halo upon halo from long luminous hairs.
Fact is we titled it Mohair Plus. Fact is – Bernat’s is the mohairiest of all such yarn – with a full 66% of finest Mohair fibers; not to belittle Virgin Wool, 17% (and, Nylon 17%).
We show all this splendor in sweaters that enrich a person’s life.
With the election talk taking up most of the airways on both sides of the border, I found this article particularly interesting. The commentary is true, of course, the current Conservative government has been pretty successful in completing what it set out to do, while the fact that they continue to operate as a minority has tempered them from heading towards any of those “scary” sides of Conservative policy that most centrist or left-leaning folk use to demonize Stephen Harper.
So with a productive government, this is the “perfect time” to close it down and for Harper to call an election in search of that majority. Naturally, in order to do this, his reasoning to the public becomes backwards, saying he can’t get work done as a minority, though he’s been doing a pretty decent job so far.
The Liberals are in shambles without a clear strong leader who could assume the role of PM, the NDP is irrelevant as they seem to have lost focus, the Green Party is fighting to be as irrelevant as the NDP but have a nutball leader. So the opportunity is perfect for a Conservative majority.
But let’s keep hoping for a minority. Keeping on the same course seems to be the best.
“When you go a resturant on the weekends and it’s busy so they start a waiting list. They say Dufrane, party of two, table ready for Dufrane, party of two , and if no one answers they’ll say the name again, Dufrane, party of two. But then if no one answers, they’ll move on to the next name. Bush party of three. Yeah, but what happened to the Dufranes? No one seems to care, who can eat at a time like this? People are missing. You people are selfish. The Dufranes are in someone’s trunk right now ,with duct tape over their mouths and they’re hungry. That’s a double whammy! We need help! Bush search party of three. You can eat once you find the Dufranes.” Mitch Hedberg
Down in my laundry room, there’s a bag of clothes with a note on it from the Assistant Super. “These clothes have been sitting here for a week, please claim them or they will be thrown out!” First off, let’s ignore the fact that the clothes should at least be donated to the Sally-Ann or something. Why throw out perfectly good (and freshly laundered) clothes?
But let’s look at this a bit further. Now, I consider myself a normal person with a normal sized closet, but how do you lose a load of clothes and just not notice? Like I would notice if suddenly I no longer had pants and only had five socks to my name. Same goes if all of the sudden I have a single towel.
Something more treacherous is obviously afoot. Maybe instead of making threats about disposing of clothing, perhaps we should be making sure that a random college girl from the seventh floor hasn’t been abducted or some old lady on the fourth floor isn’t dead in her bed and slowly being eaten by her cats (it’s a pet-free building but work with me here). Just when you think too much about this, it could be a pretty troubling scenario.
On a side note, which is perhaps related, by barely so: watching clothes spin in the dryer has to be almost as hypnotic as watching a fire. I don’t separate my whites from my darks (all in cold water, I’m not a total idiot), but the combination of the spinning colours and such is hard to look away from.
If I was at all sensible, I would be asleep by now, preparing, perhaps even steeling myself for a return to the office tomorrow. But naturally enough, I’m not sensible at all and so instead will capture some thoughts on my “summer job.”
In June, I was offered a job working for a national superbike (motorcycle) race series. Given the possibility of travel across Canada, some extra cash in my pocket and the offer to get out of the office and use up some of my vacation time, I jumped at the opportunity.
It has been everything that was promised and so much more. I travelled to Calgary, twice to Ontario and even did a local race. I got to “get away from it all”, which more and more is an appealing option.
I knew nothing previously of motorcycle road racing and have got to watch a number of great races, meet a load of great people and yes, witness a handful of insane crashes (they’re more frightening when viewed in person, less detachment from it then when you see it on TV or in a video). Being that much closer to the sport is a startling contrast to the office life, where, although I work in sport, so to speak, I’m far removed from the field or the court or the track and that distance adds layers of…bullshit? at times. Maybe that’s not the right word, but I always return to the lesson learned during my work term, that my position was to help others complete their job and yet, sometimes, we all get away from that, get away from the actual base goals of their job. I’m as guilty as anyone, but maybe I’m just tired.
The weekend past was our last race for the season and coming home, as always, is hard. Although the break from the office (and being busy enough while away to not be worrying about it) is refreshing (the same thinking could be applied to life in general), coming home to it all is a shift back to reality of sorts. But maybe I’m just tired.
So that was my summer, between the races, the work and my own life, the past three months have been a blur and there’s no sign of a break until maybe October, however, I feel at the same time that I’m getting a handle for this beast of busy-ness (on a side note, I originally typed that as business, which strikes me as being rather profound, but maybe I’m just tired).
At times I wonder if things will ever slow down much more then they are now, with me sitting here, my suitcase behind me, exploded with unloaded dirty clothes, as the night gets later and the day shifts from September 1st to 2nd (September! already!). At times, I wonder if that break will ever come, and then I wonder if I really want it to come, as I revel in this constant battle, this purpose.
But maybe, just maybe, I’m just tired.