A Most Important Note

(Just FYI, I have full permission to share this.)

My most darling spouse has updated their pronouns to they/them and I will be using those going forward.

And for the record, darling...

I'm pretty dang proud of you.

And I can't wait to see what these changes will mean for your confidence and happiness in the future.

Love you, nerd.

<3

Travel, Transphobia, and Too Many Colors

I've been wrangling with myself on how exactly to organize this post.

Do we do the usual and go chronologically, which means tackling a heavy topic in the middle of the post? Or do I handle that first? Or do I wait until the end?

I suppose chronological has served me well so far and will do so again.

So, going back two weeks ago, we had a special birthday party to attend. John's grandma was turning 102. I wasn't exactly thrilled about going because the majority of that side of the family... let's just say that stating that they "dislike" me is putting it mildly.

Quick aside, ever wonder why this blog is called "Black Goat Knitting"? Well, John and myself are kind of considered to be black sheep of the family due to our atheism. We've also been accused of being Satanists. Which, according to the highly reliable source of the "Satanic Panic" during the 80's means sacrificing goats or some other such nonsense. Put two and two together and there you have it.

Anyway, off to the party I went, if only to support my husband.

It did give me a chance to give my mother-in-law her birthday present.

Say hello the the Golden Tree Shawl.

Made with Malabrigo Worsted in colorway Butter. The pattern is the Lonely Tree Shawl on Ravelry.

This shawl is quite significant to my knitting skills in two ways. 1.) I finally learned and mastered the damn picot bind off.

And 2.) I knit the pattern exactly as written. No modifications whatsoever. It was scary.

At the party, things were going alright at first. I was being mostly ignored, just as I had hoped. I was giving off a "don't really want to talk to you" vibe and I think they got that. It just so happened that the party was same day as the Pulse tragedy, so we were weary of snide comments being made about "them damn homos and filthy Muslims." (That part of the family is just filled with the kindest people!)

Well, just as bigots are want to do, two of John's aunts started a discussion bashing transgender people and how horrible having to be politically correct is.

I looked at John, he glared right back. We both stood up and went to confront them.

I couldn't tell you exactly what I said. I don't think it was particularly coherent. As much as I'd like to think that I'm good at handling confrontation in person, it's much better for me to be able to write my thoughts out before presenting an argument. No such luxuries in this case! I do remember saying the phrase, "It's not being politically correct! It's being right!"

John spoke much more clearly and did a friggin amazing job. We shut the whole room down. Once we had spoken our piece, we turned and walked away.

We left not too long after that. We both were rather drained, disgusted, and wanting to get back to our home. Our safe place.

I doubt we've heard the end of it, but for now I'm proud that we stood up against these people.

On Wednesday, the lovely Allen came over for a dinner visit. Seriously, I cannot tell you how friggin jealous I am of their style. They were rocking this polkadot dress number that had me three shades of envious.

This past weekend, John and I went to Origins Game Fair. The original plan was to go Friday through Sunday, but the universe laughed at us and said no. We ended up just driving down on Saturday for a day trip. It ended up coinciding with the Columbus Pride Parade.

We decided to watch part of the parade before heading in to the convention. Rather than overload everyone with a bunch of pictures from it, you can check out my (terrible) photos HERE.

We were a little hesitant to attend due to recent events, but I'm so glad we did. Besides a few of the usual religious zealots swearing up and down we'd all burn in hell, the general atmosphere was one of happiness and oneness. There was the understandable sadness and anger as well. We didn't stay for the whole parade, seeing as it lasted for 3 hours. But I was happy to see what we did.

We had a great time at the convention. One of my dear friends was a volunteer, so we hung out with her quite a bit. I blew most of my portion of the fun budget on one thing. No regrets.

We picked up:

- The Sherlock Holmes RPG (that's where my money went) and it included the core rule book, a DM screen, a book of additional scenarios, case log notepads, and two special dice for the game.

- Playmat for Boss Monsters

- 6 new minis including a griffin, a dragon tortoise, a bulette, and a Cthulhu-headed shark

- A mini Om Nom from Cut the Rope

- A new dice set that I created

- A d30

- The commemorative Origins 2016 d6

- The expansion for a game that we went to buy, but was sold out

Not pictured:

- Said game that the maker ordered a copy off of amazon and had shipped to us

- My big ol' Bulbasaur plush

- The D&D tote bag that Kayla snagged for us the next day

We also had the absolute pleasure of meeting Mr. Chris Perkins, principal storywriter for Dungeons and Dragons.

He signed our Player's Handbook and we had an absolutely lovely chat. It wasn't until later that I realized that we forgot to ask for a picture with him. Oh, well.

Saturday was also Worldwide Knit in Public Day. I had packed my sock into my bag, but when I went to pull it out, I discovered to my horror that I managed to break one of my damn needles.

Here's a WIP shot of them, though.

I'm REALLY loving knitting these things. I already have plans for another dozen pairs.

I had John pick out some yarn from Destination Yarn since I promised that he gets the next pair. This is what he chose.

This is the colorway Desert Night. I'm excited to see what it works up like.

Until my new replacement needle comes in (shout out to Mikayla, who is an absolute dear and bought it for me because I was having a down day) I'm itchy to work on something else. Browsing through my favorites on Ravelry, I stumbled upon Foxy Paws.

Now, I haven't done a lot of colorwork, but there's something about this pattern that is just screaming my name. And the best part is I can do it all from stash yarn.

But that's the problem.

And where I need your help.

See, I've got too many awesome colors to use. And I need help picking out what combo to ultimately work with. Below, I'll show you the base colors I've picked and the colors I'm also considering adding. Please leave a comment below with your favorite. Whichever ends up with the most votes will be what I end up using!

Here are the BASE colors:

OPTION ONE:

OPTION TWO:

OPTION THREE:

OPTION FOUR:

So once again please leave a comment below with BASE, ONE, TWO, THREE, or FOUR below. Think you have a better idea? Tell me in the comments!

And do so soon. My hands are itching for some fun.

Orlando

Just fyi, this is more of a brain dump than a well thought out and reasoned post. I apologize for a lack of eloquence on my part. It's hard to write when your heart and head hurt.

I'm sure that all of you are already aware of the tragedy that occurred at the Pulse gay nightclub early this morning in Orlando, Florida. More than 50 people dead and just as many injured. Committed by a man with a vendetta against anyone who considers themselves a member of the LGBT+ community.

Senseless violence.

Wasted lives.

Just because you dare to love someone.

Or be someone different.

Or don't subscribe to antiquated notions of orientation or gender identity.

Or hell, even just allying yourself with these people.

How fucked up is that?

I won't even pretend to know exactly what it's like to be hated, shunned, and potentially harmed over my sexual orientation.

On the surface, I present to the world as a heterosexual person in a long-term, committed relationship with a man.

I didn't really come to terms with my bisexuality until a few years ago. And seeing as I've only ever really had one long term relationship and that is with my husband, I never had to go through bringing home a partner of the same gender.

But I am out as bisexual to most of my family. They have been accepting of it. Going so far as to say that as long as I was happy, that was all that mattered.

Sometimes I wonder if that would have been the case if I would have fallen in love with someone of the same gender instead. But my heart tells me that they would have loved me (and her) all the same.

I am extremely lucky in that regard.

But what if I hadn't been born into such a loving and accepting clan?

It's not too hard to imagine.

I've seen the news articles about the discrimination. The hatred. The violence.

I've heard the stories, told by survivors, some barely understood as they sob and choke on their words.

Others, spoken in a dead voice, with a long stare off into a terrifying memory.

And still others having to have their stories told by others, because their own voices have been forever silenced.

People have been thrown out of their homes.

Disowned by their families.

Lost jobs, lost friends.

Been threatened, been beaten.

Been driven to self-harm and suicide.

Been murdered.

For being themselves.

I could have been one of those people, if born in a different time or place.

By a fucking quirk of being born into the family I have, I have never experienced any of this firsthand.

And that is a sobering thought.

I don't have my usual light-hearted quips to try and help people smile through the pain.

I can only offer this perspective.

I'd like to think that this upswing of bigotry and violence are the death throes of a vile and dangerous ideology.

That maybe, just maybe, our generation can be the one to tell our grandchildren that we fought for and won equality for our LGBT+ brethren.

Then they can laugh at their silly old grandparents who knew people who actually thought that just because you were a different race, orientation, or gender meant something.

It's a very small, very tiny little light of hope.

To those of you who stand, once again, on the wrong side of history.

Love is going to win in the end.

Your outdated and backwards way of thinking is on the out.

You know deep inside that no matter how much hate and violence you spew, no matter how many of us you maim and kill, that You. Will. Not. Win.

We won't back down. We won't be silent. We will stand strong and we will fight.

For each other. For our future.

For equality.

For love.