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.

Snapshot

Earlier tonight, John called his dad.

It was Father's Day, and he hadn't had a chance to call yet.

Because he had been busy all day.

Taking care of me. Taking care of Alex. The dogs. The cats.

He had mowed the yard, picked up after the dogs, and swept the sidewalk.

He had held me this morning as I cried in the shower and worked through my post-con emotional roller coaster. And insisted that I should just relax today and take care of myself.

He had drove clear to Canton and back to get us all dinner.

He stood in the hallway as he talked, letting his food get cold.

I heard his exasperated tone; saw him lean against the wall in exhaustion.

I heard his responses to heated questions.


When I looked out and saw him standing there, I snapped a quick photo.

Something about him standing there struck me.

I knew that when he was done with the phone call he'd be angry, upset, and hurt.

That he would be a little more broken than before.

Because he would have been told once again that one aspect about him made him into an uneducated and damned person.

That he would burn in hell for all eternity for daring to not blindly following his parents' lead.


His family doesn't see what I see.

The kind man. The thoughtful man. The selfless man.

Their son who does his best to help take care of his parents.

Who plays tech support to technology that belongs in a museum.

Who helps unload yet another piece of clutter or knickknackery in his work clothes because he hasn't even had a chance to make it home yet.

My husband who works full time to make sure that we are taken care of.

Who, after working that job, helps Alex with her homework every single night without a single complaint.

He patiently answers any questions she has about anything her brain can come up with.

He gives her his full attention every time she talks to him and strives to learn about what interests her. Just so he can have better discussions with her.

At her last teacher meeting, John sat beside me, listened to everything that her teachers said, and asked questions. He wanted to make sure that he was doing the best job possible tutoring her at home.


He takes care of me. And that is the biggest understatement that has ever been uttered.

He has stood by my side for nearly 10 and a half years as I've lived through and learned to deal with my mental illness.

He understands when I am out of spoons and need to step back inside myself for a while.

He doesn't complain when he has to pick up the slack in regards to housework because once again my depression has tackled me and left me in bed, barely able to function.

He deals with the panic attacks.

The outbursts of anger.

The good days and bad.


He is not perfect.

He does not claim to be.

In fact, he is often quite harsh on himself.

He has issues with self-worth.


I just wish I could make those thoughts go away.

I wish he could see what I see.

The strong, capable person.

Who overcame a background of hate and has since replaced it with a deep well of knowledge and compassion.

The man I have come to rely on and cherish.

Who has filled my life with laughter.

This beautiful person that I love.

Busy, Busy, Busy

This past weekend was nothing but a whirlwind of going places, doing things, and not getting a single moment to relax. I think I managed to maybe get 5 rows done on the Christmas triangle scarf.

Friday night was Harps and Thistles' monthly pajama party. When we drove past the shop on the way to the parking lot, Beaverly decided to come out and wreak havoc when I saw how many people were inside. I wanted to desperately to leave. I was doing everything in my power to convince John to just take me home. He talked me through it, for which I am forever grateful, and walked me inside. As embarrassing it is to admit, I clung on to his hand like a child.

Anxiety is so much fun, people.

I ended up having a lovely time, just as John knew I would. And I even came home with a couple of new beauties. Even though the party was supposed to be about getting your knitting done, I spent more time talking to people than actually knitting. I managed to get a whopping 2 rows done on my scarf. That's just downright sad.

I hid in the back by the snack table, figuring that people could come over to me to socialize. On top of that, I didn't want to try and drag a chair through the crowd to sit by Sarah.

It was nice sitting at the table because I could sit my pattern right beside me rather than constantly having to reach to the floor for it.

Some of the snacks. You can see my bowl and chart keeper in the back. As well as a whole wall of Three Irish Girls. Not good, people. Not good.

My triangle scarf that barely got touched, the poor thing. And I decided to be all fancy and bring along one of my beautiful bowls.

I wanted to find some yarn to make mittens for my mother-in-law for Christmas, and ended up coming home with this.

I apologize for the dismal pictures. I took these the other evening when I remembered that I needed to. The sun was setting fast. I would retake them, but it's a wet and miserable sort of day. I don't think they'll turn out much better.

Anyway, this yarn is actually a very pretty green heather. I wanted something that was cheerful, but wouldn't show dirt easily.

I also fell in love with a kit that Harps and Thistles had on display using some of their first Three Irish Girls custom colorway. I didn't care much for the pattern, though, and bought the components separately.

Isn't it beautiful? I think I'm going to do this pattern with it. This is the Adorn Sock base, by the way.

This is the shawl pin that was in the kit. It's so beautiful and lovely. I used it with my dragonscale shawl on Saturday and was so thrilled that I didn't have to spend the whole day fussing with keeping my shawl on my shoulders.

I also picked up this skein of Adorn Sock. I'd been eyeing it for a few weeks, and John foolishly left me alone at the shop. I have no control when it comes to yarn, people. I walk into a shop, a black veil covers me and I walk out later with arms full of beautiful fiber, not quite remembering picking up so much.

Maybe I'm multi-classing as a warlock and my patron demon has a thing for merino.

Saturday, John and I took our dear friend, Vi, up to the Cleveland Museum of Art. We stopped at Harps and Thistles on the way, though, because I forgot to get this.

More Three Irish Girls, this time in Springvale Worsted. It's the Blackberry Cobbler colorway. I'm planning on some Christmas presents with it, but I'm not sure if the intended recipient reads my blog, so you'll just have to see what it becomes later.

I have so many pictures from the museum that I've decided to make it an entirely separate post later this week. For now, I'll just say that we had an absolutely lovely time.

Sunday was a birthday party for my grandpa's brother. I didn't take too many pictures, but here's one of grandpa and Uncle Billy together. Grandpa is on the left.

They ended up sending me home with an almost entirely full vegetable tray, which is pretty damn awesome. My rats are especially happy.

And yesterday, Em (the middle sister, for those who may not know) and I went shopping. John and I hadn't had a chance to pick up essentials for the house over the weekend, for some reason, so I bullied Emmy into going with me.

As bribery, I took her to Books-A-Million. I thought I'd be good and just look for a stitch dictionary (which I did find) and maybe look for something for John. Well, I ended up with the stitch dictionary, Prudence by Gail Carriger, and the first two books in a new series called the Clockwork Daggers by Beth Cato. Apparently, my demon patron also has a thing for Steampunk-inspired fiction.

Lest you think that poor John didn't get anything special, I did buy him King of Tokyo and Forbidden Island to add to our ever-growing board game collection.

In fact, we played King of Tokyo last night. I was two points away from winning when my stupid bloody husband offed me and took the game.

I'm sure some of you are wondering how the Christmas knitting is coming along....

But first, can we just agree the whole red cup debacle is just frippin stupid? I mean, FSM forbid that Starbucks has a more simple cup design this year! Conservative Christians are starting the war on Christmas a little early this year. I mean, can we get through Thanksgiving first?

Seriously. though, get over yourselves.

Okay, so, Christmas knitting. Well, I only managed to get one and a half presents done over the week.

Izzy's gloves are done. And I once again remembered why I hate working with acrylic. *shudder*

I also managed to get one glove done for one of my commission projects. This took me bloody forever because I had to completely re-work the pattern. I think I've got it now, though, and am hoping to breeze through the second one today.

My anxiety is on the brink of going into overdrive because one present a week is just not going to cut it. On top of that, presents keep getting added to my list. Gift cards are starting to look like a better and better option.

Wooly gods, watchers of all crafters, give me strength to make it through this holiday season.