Captain Grilled Cheese and the Vegan Lasagna.

For the first time in my life, please sit down, O Witty Funny Sweet Ones, I made lasagna.

As you have guessed from the title of this post, I made Vegan Lasagna, complete with non-cheese. We’re having a potluck lunch tomorrow at work and one of our buddies is vegan. Non-cheese is quite the funny product. The package says – literally – “it melts!” when actually, as I found out five minutes ago when I pulled the dish out of the oven, it does not. But the vegan lasagna making was very pleasurable. It entailed making spaghetti sauce without meat. Instead, I made green lentils to throw in for texture. I had never made green lentils, either. So, Younglings, massive amounts of newness were experienced.

I had a great evening, for a Thursday. After work, I took a different bus and went to my yarn store. Mmmm. Yarn Store. I hadn’t been in over two months. I went around every little nook and cranny, petted the yarn, caressed mohair and fondled silk. It was delightful. I was actually going to get a gift for someone. I bought bamboo needles and a nice ball of textured yarn for her to cut her teeth on. But you know me – I had to get some for myself. Mrs. Yarnlady has these nifty Ziploc bags you can buy. They contain different yarns, ends of balls of yarn and experiments gone wrong. So I just got two skeins of mohair and one skein of wool for $10. Not bad, eh?

Oh – yes – I had grilled cheese for dinner. Because I’m lazy. Okay, no…because it’s good.

Houston, We Are Go.

For those of you who are still following, I have not tried to crochet again. Just so you know. I’m looking for a specific book to help me out, which is probably still in a box. I’ll find it. When I do, I’ll try to crochet again. But for now, well, I’ll do other things.

I find myself at a crossroads of some sort. In fact, I sit there most of the day. I’m able to function in my everyday activities and go through the motions of work and food-making and sleeping and talking to other Human Beings, but in my mind, I am sitting on a gravel road, in the middle of nowhere. And I’m not even scared.

The peculiar thing about this place, if you’ll bear with me, is the incredibly blue sky and – more importantly - the grass. It’s so lush and green! I’m wearing my jeans, the ones I just bought that fit really nicely. And I’m wearing my sister’s t-shirt. I don’t know why, I just like it. So I’m wearing it. The blue one that says Valiquette. I am alone. Somewhere close to me, behind me, there is the sound of running water, a creek, I think.

I am sitting right in the middle of the gravel road, with my legs straight in front of me, slightly apart. My feet are bare. I am leaning on my arms behind me. My palms, flat on the road, are starting to hurt because of the small pebbles digging into them. But I stay. There is a long, thin shadow in front of me, and my eyes run the length of it very often. Over and over again. I do not know where the shadow originates from. Why is it there? What does it mean? Should I try to get there?

Today, I keep my eyes open a little longer. I feel rested, and I am able to follow the shadow for a longer period of time. It’s really, really long. I feel like I’m sitting at one end of Space, looking at the other end. It stretches right to the limit of what I can physically see, somehow. And at the end, I can see there is something, but I can’t make it out. I’ve been working on trying to stand up to get closer to it faster. It takes a long time just to think of getting up: my will is somehow warped. I decide to crawl. Getting up seems impossible at this time. Maybe somewhere along the way, I’ll find something to help me up. I can’t see anything from here – the landscape is perfectly flat and featureless. But you never know.

I’ve taken the habit of lining up the thin shadow to the side of my leg and I push myself forward with my hands toward its starting point, slowly. I will not lose my direction this way. It shifts, swerves, curbs the light and plays tricks on my eyes. So I’ve tamed it and it seems to be behaving now. Every time I come back, I sit back down and shift around until I line up the shadow perfectly on the side of my right leg. It moves a couple of times, I readjust. I start pushing myself forward. I’ve ripped the bottom of my jeans, the sand is sliding in between the fabric and my skin and it’s chapped.

This time, I’ve gotten so close to the top of the shadow I can see what casts it.

There is a post. It bears many signs, which point in different directions. I can’t read any of them, because they are all written in a language I do not recognize, with symbols I have never seen. All but one. I wish I could get up to make sure what I see is right: I can barely read it, for the sun is my eyes. But when I narrow my eyes and concentrate, I can make it out.

This Way.

Crochet, Dammit.

I sat there. I had the tool and the material; I had the video on You Tube.

I had the will and the couple of beer in me that would make me want to do it. After watching five tutorials and judging them all as interesting in their uniqueness as the last one, I decided I remembered what my friend K had showed me December 31st, 2005. I decided I remembered how to crochet. In fact, I decided tomorrow is when I’ll be making my first crochet scarf. Because if you did not already know, I mainly make scarves. Usually, I knit them. But I am looking to branch out. Who doesn’t?

I have this great collection of crochet hooks. Some are made of wood, most are aluminium. All are idle. They sit in my Boticelli Chocolate metal case of knitting knick-knacks, because I have completely ignored them for the past 4 years. But I bought them at a Christmas Sale years ago and have never, ever used them. Oh I tried. But to no avail.

So the You Tube instructors say slipknot, yarn over, pull through, and yarn over, slip through the two stitches. But I have four stitches on my hook. My yarn won’t stretch, it’s linen. I can’t see shit, it’s 11:30 at night and I spent all day doing stuff around the house. And I’m trying to crochet by the light of the monitor. Maybe I should turn the light on. I want to wrap the yarn over the monitor and strangle it. I want to burn the yarn with a blowtorch. In fact, if I had a backyard that belonged to me, I would. I’d march out there with the barbecue lighter, straight to the fire pit, because for damned sure I would have a fire pit, and I’d light the damned thing – yes, the whole skein of linen – on fire. I think it’s time I did something else. I know it’s time I did something else.

Like forget crochet and go back to knitting.

Tomorrow morning, when I wake up at 7:00, I’ll make spaghetti sauce, and strawberry jam, and banana bread. Then I’ll try to crochet again. Maybe. In the meantime, 8 things I know:

1. I have values and principles;
2. I can write;
3. It’s Saturday but almost Sunday;
4. There are 9 planets in our Solar system (…right?);
5. I have people who care for me;
6. There is always an answer;
7. Things aren’t always what they seem.
8. I can knit, but not crochet yet.