Blue Rose is done!

There are no words for how pleased I am.  Squealing, though.  There's lots of happy squealing.

WIP picture, pre-pocalypse

1. Blue Rose

2.  Blue Moon (not started, no picture)

3.  Lady of the Gingkoes

4.  Lily Pond  This is my travel project, so it will probably get done soon.  Ish.

5.  Stitcher's Favorite Fob (not started, no picture)

6.  Companions

7.  Gingerbread House (not started, no picture)

8.  Little Goose

9.  Hannah's Hummingbird Knot Garden

10.  Poor Jack

11.  Celandine (my colors)  See?  I told you ten projects were just the beginning!

WIPocalypse

I'm going to be participating in the WIPocalypse this year.  I'm super busy working on Blue Rose, so this list will be slim until I have more time to pull things from my shelves and make a real determination of what I want to do.

1.  Blue Rose, HAED SAL.
2.  Blue Moon, HAED SAL.
3.  Lady of the Ginkgoes, HAED
4.  Lily Pond, Elizabeth's Designs
5. Stitcher's Favorite Fob, Sweetheart Tree
6. Companions, Teresa Wentzler
7.  Gingerbread House, Victoria Sampler
8.  Random Small Goose Design, Kit Swiped From My Mother
9.  Hannah's Hummingbird Knot Garden, Liz Turner Diehl
10.  Poor Jack, Birds of a Feather.

Yes, ten projects is light for me.  Very, very light.

Lady of the Ginkos update

Just because. 

Things which annoy me in books, Part 1

This one, to me, is very basic.  It's a classic trope, and it annoys me every single time I run across it.

I truly loathe it when a writer shows that her character is an independent female by having her loudly and obviously eschew any sort of handwork.  "Oh, I don't do samplers, I don't do needlepoint, I hate embroidery." 

I get why it's such a nice and easy shorthand.  Fine needlework has been a woman's craft for centuries (and let's not get into when it was a guilded craft and the providence of men).  Doing it well takes time, which made it the province of upper class women and those who aspired to be like them.  And yes, in the past few decades there has been a cultural backlash against things that "women do", and especially things that "women do" that take a great deal of time.  I have no issue with that.  Not everyone needs to like to sew, or bake, or clean, or embroider.  Everyone should be free to do what pleases them.

But here's the thing.  I am an independent female.  And I love doing handwork.  I don't think that it's overly girly and shows my enslavement to the patriarchy. 

When reading a book it's a fine character trait if your lady likes to bake.  Robin McKinley's Sunshine has her main character be a baker, and it's awesome.  It's a fine character trait if your lady knits.  If she sews her own clothes (or her own design, natch), or if she gardens.  Gardening is a perfectly acceptable independent lady-trait.  But pick up a needle for anything more than sewing on a button?  Heavens, no!  Not our independent heroine!

I was reading the Soul Mirror by Carol Berg.  Let me preface this by saying that I adored this book.  I truly, truly did.  But it was so jarring to have our heroine (who is, perforce, not full of completely feminine or anti-feminine traits, but a nice mixture of being human) talk to the man she'll end up with about hobbies and such, and see the off-hand comment that she hates embroidery (of course) and that this validates her to him as something better than a normal silly woman.

Really?  Seriously?  If I wasn't enjoying the book so much, that right there would have been enough to have me put the book down and walked away. 

I enjoy embroidery.

I am not silly.

The two are not equivalent or equal, and I am TIRED of always seeing it so. 

P.S.  And this doesn't even touch on the fact that there are men who enjoy embroidery.  What does it say to their masculinity when an entire craft is the purview of "silly women"-ness?

Totally was rear-ended on the freeway this morning.

The section of freeway in question has a reputation for going from 60MPH to a full stop in no time flat.  That happened, it went off ok, but I realized that the guy in front of me stopped... really quick.  So we get up to about 35MPH, and it's again with the nigh-instant stop.  I stop.  Lady behind me... well, to be fair, she did stop.  But hitting the back of the work truck certainly helped that for her.  I had enough time to make sure my foot was firmly on the brake and to fling my arm out so my bag wouldn't go flying before impact.  Thankfully the seat belt in the work truck is on a hair-trigger (ok, normally that's annoying, but it's like it is for situations like this morning) and I keep the headrest up, so whiplash should be minimal.

So we limp to the side of the freeway, I call work (get my sister, tell her to tell the boss [dad] that there's been an accident, where it was, and that I got hit fairly hard), call 911 to get the police out to the accident scene, pick up my water bottle from where it was flung into the footwell and spilled water all over, take a call from my dad wanting to know what has happened, call him back and ask for paper towels.

Next I get out of the truck (on the passenger side, eep, freeway!), grab the insurance card, close the door, and walk towards the other lady's car.  I pick up two pieces of headlight casing and a clip, then go to put them back in the truck (no littering!), realize I don't have the keys, see that the driver's door is unlocked, go around to get the keys (eep, freeway SO CLOSE).  The other driver saw me get out of the truck and took the pieces from me as I pondered having to walk around the truck. 

I grab the keys from the ignition then go back around to talk to the lady who hit me.  She gets a hug.  She's been crying, she apologizes sincerely and profusely, and I try to make her feel better.  She gives me a business card, and we talk (mostly about how this was not something either of us wanted, but me not wanting to make her feel worse than she does).  The state patrol officer shows up at this point and asks for license, registration, proof of insurance.  I go back to get the registration (fumbling to find the right one; not the best plan to keep four year's worth of registrations) and there's more commiseration.  Her car... well, the antifreeze was leaking all over the freeway, so hers wasn't drivable.  The work truck has a well dropped bumper, some cosmetic damage to the back hatch... and some severe dents/paint cracking where the bed of the truck slammed into the cab.  But it drives just fine, so that's a bonus on my end. 

Dad and my brother showed up at about the same time as the second state patrol guy.  I collected hugs and we looked at the car and made sure that things should work ok.  Time passed as we waited for the report to be generated, her best friend was driving on the other side of the freeway and saw the accident, circled around, and hugged her friend before she continued to work (nice of her, I thought).  Eventually the report was done, we were firmly advised to go to the doctor and get checked out (>.>  Um.... ) for possible damage.

My neck was a bit sore after the accident, and after driving off the muscles on the right under my jaw seemed a bit swollen.  I held my tea mug by my neck, and by the time I got to the customer's I couldn't tell any difference between the two sides.  I did end up taking the afternoon off to go shower/bathe/nap/relax to try to get ahead of any swelling/unhappiness.  My right shoulder is a touch sore, but not to the point where I could tell if that's due to the accident, or due to stitching over-much.  I've not stitched since Monday which makes the second option unlikely, but it could be tight just because I carry stress in those muscles.  So I'll keep an eye on it, and if it gets any more unhappy I'll know.  Ideally I'll be fine and happy and all, but I'm still coming off the whole adrenaline thing and as that recedes I'll see what it was masking and might no longer be able to live in the happiest state of all (denial!)

Quick re-post for a friend

http://taterviking.tumblr.com/post/3915512606/oh-gods-guys-oh-gods-the-heatsink-on-my

She's broke, interning, and her computer threw a rod.