Jeremy buys yarn

    The last ten days since the previous post have been quite the wild ride here in the "Mel" household.  As a result, I have only been able to accomplish one quest, and Jeremy has managed to crochet three rows, but those are stories for later.  Today, I bring you the not-quite-captivating tale of one husband, one wife, three children, and a point and shoot camera on video mode, set loose upon the super-duper-mega-monster craft store's yarn aisle.  Between the camera and the yarn fondling, it's a wonder we didn't get tossed out.

    The super-duper-mega-monster craft store was amazingly empty when we went. Good news for Jeremy. No one had to witness his ultimate discomfort of standing in the yarn aisle. Well, not entirely true. He has spent many hours in yarn, craft, and art stores, usually wearing a blank expression, looking the part of the beleaguered husband who has found his happy place inside his head.  However, this time, he had to actually participate in the choosing of color and yarn type. After all, it is his scarf he's making. 

   Most likely, Jeremy figured he'd walk in, grab the first skein off the rack, in whatever color he thought was manly enough, and walk out.  I wasn't about to make it that easy.

     "You plan on wearing this, right?" I asked as he held up the hunter green acrylic yarn.
     "Maybe," He said.
     "Then you should feel it, not just look at it. If it's scratchy, you won't like working with it, and you won't enjoy wearing it."
     "Oh-kaaaay..." he said as he rubbed the yarn on his face.  Not exactly what I had in mind when I said "You should feel the yarn", but I wasn't going to say anything more. I had the camera in my hand, and watched as he rubbed the yarn on Joshua, Ruth, and Hannah's faces.  Taking a unanimous decision that the hunter green was, indeed, 'too scratchy' he proceeded to pick up another skein.  "I like this color. How about this color? And look it's soft. Now can we go?"
     "No. You need a hook."
     "What's a hook?"
     "The thing you use to crochet with. It helps pull loops through loops. Let me see the yarn. It will tell us what size hook. I like to go up a size or two when I make a basic no-pattern scarf so it's more open and has more drape."
      "Bwah bwah bwah bwah bwah bwah." Jeremy said, imitating Charlie Brown's teacher.
      "Here." I said handing him the correct hook.
      "It's PINK!" he said. "I can't use a pink hook!"
      "It's red, " I said. "It's not pink."
      "I want a different color." He said.
       "They don't have that size in a different color. Each size has its own color. You won't be any less manly with a RED hook than a silver or blue hook."
      "I really don't want pink." He reiterated.
       "It's already a size larger than recommended. You'd have to go up to yet another size to have a different color than RED."
       "It's Pink. Isn't that pink, Josh?"
       "Yes. It's pink." Josh said, in the never ending quest to defend masculinity for all man-kind.
       I groaned. "It. is. NOT. Pink. But fine. here. Have this hook." I took the next size up off the rack.
       "That's better," Jeremy said. And we wandered to the check-out. The camera continued filming, and I'm sure the check-out clerk thought we were quite batty.  But then again, this is the family that drives through the city wearing multi-colored wigs.

So, come along to the super-duper-mega-monster craft store with us, and maybe afterward, the soundtrack will loop continuously in your head as badly as it is stuck in mine.

In which, I began my slippery slide downhill

For the record, I feel absolutely ridiculous. But, I kept up my end of the bargain.  After we got home from purchasing yarn, I made a character. I even did my first 'quest' and freed some hobbitses. 

Having every intention to make an elf, I sat down with Jeremy and loaded up the game.

    "You can't be on Silverlode. I'm on Silverlode, but there's no more room.  This one here would be a good one, or this would be a good one," he said pointing to two other "worlds."
    "Um, is that like a server?" I asked. 
    "Yes, exactly." He said.
    "Okey dokey."
    "I don't know if I'd be an elf if I were you," he said.
    "Why not?"
    "Well, unless you want to be a girl, because all elves look like girls. The male elfs are very effeminate."
    "Hmm, so the choices are, I can be a girl and make her the opposite of me, tall, gorgeous, and pretend that's what I look like. Because, after all, this whole concept of role playing games is to pretend to be something you're not, right?  OR I can make eye candy?"
    "Um, yeah. I suppose so." He said, not sure what else to say.
    "Ok. Maybe I won't be an elf. Maybe I'll be a human guy, Instead. Because I don't want to be a hobbit or a dwarf and you've said I probably won't like being an elf. All I really know is I want to be a hunter because you said a hunter's main weapon is bow and arrow." 

    I didn't mind making the character so much, because it wasn't too far off from playing one of the girls' fashion plates kind of games where you design the model from head to toe before making cool designer outfits. Or, I suppose making a mii on the wii. 

    "First you have to come up with a name," Jeremy said.

    "Oh, I'm so horrible at coming up online names," I said with dismay.

     "Well, they give you suggestions," He pointed out. "See?"

Throwing together a few of the prefix and suffixes the game suggested to me,  I sighed. "This is silly, " I said. "I feel silly. Maybe I should just borrow your schtick of putting 'Sham' in front of it instead."

     "No, you don't want to do that," Jeremy said. I think he was feeling a little possessive of his prefix. With a few exceptions, several of his characters have "sham" in front of their names in honor of his birthday gift of a "Sham-Wow" which was wrapped up along with the Lord of the Rings Online game box.  Our brother-in-law had even written a lovely little birthday message that went something along the lines of "Say good-bye to eating, sleeping, working, etc. Happy Birthday"  I don't remember if there was an evil laugh, a "Muhahahaha" written after the message or not,  but it definitely was implied.

    "But I don't know what else to do, and at least, if I get tired of this character, you can keep it."

    "You won't get tired of your character," Jeremy said with all confidence of an addict,  "And besides, I already have a hunter."

    I looked at him with my sad eyes, and said, "Ok. But I'm at least putting 'Mel' in there somewhere. I just thought I could use Sham and Mel together." 

    Jeremy pondered it for a moment, and then said, "Ok. That's not bad. I guess that would work."

     I changed all the features, and found myself slightly embarrassed to have made a character with swarthy skin and longish hair. Hmm.  Looking over at my husband, I said, "Maybe you should grow your hair out." 

     He laughed and said, "Uh, Maybe not."  He made me feel better by showing me that he has one character named after me.  Aww, how sweet. I've been immortalized in an interactive multi-player online role-playing game. "So," he continued, "Do you want to start a quest?"

next... Jeremy's shopping trip...

Raising the Stakes (or why we haven't bought yarn yet...)

    I won't lie. I'm really not looking forward to playing this game.  Well, ok, maybe unconsciously I've kinda sorta been putting off yarn shopping. Alright, Alright.  I admit...perhaps it hasn't been so unconscious at all.  We made a deal: I won't create "my character" until Jeremy has yarn and crochet hook in hand. 

    Tuesday, Jeremy was all set and ready to run out to the super-duper-mega-monster craft store to pick out yarn, however, Joshua had to raise funds at the local chain restaurant for his Youth Group.  By the time the evening concluded, the super-duper-mega-monster craft store was closed.  I was so sad.

    Wednesday, he had to prepare for his second job: teaching computer classes at the local institute.  Rats.

    Thursday, he was teaching.  Too bad his classes ended long after the super-duper-mega-monster store closed. Man, was I ever bummed.

    Friday came and went, and neither one of us can remember what happened, that's how memorable the day was  But obviously, we were too busy to go purchase necessary yarn and hook. What a shame.

    Saturday, I was at some things looming, brainstorming, and doing a little prep work for the closing of our most recent exhibit: TeXt/TeXTiLe.  I ran home around seven in the evening, hoping we could make it out, but unfortunately, there just wasn't enough time.  Jeremy had been working in the yarn and needed to clean up.  Scattered throughout the neighborhood, our kids were running around screaming like banshees, clothed in a days worth of dirt and sweat, and completely unfed.  By the time they ate their supper, and Jeremy was sparkling clean, well, I just plain lost my energy for such energetic endeavors such as shopping for yarn.  Plus, we only would have had about fifteen minutes til closing by the time we arrived at the super-duper-mega-monster craft store's yarn aisle.

    Darn.

    "You know," Jeremy said to me, "You could just start your character. I don't need to have my yarn yet."

     "Oh no. I'm not taking that risk," I said. "You'll have yarn in hand, and THEN I'll start my character."

     "Ok. But if I'm making a scarf. You have to get to at LEAST level 20 before you can be released from this challenge."

     "Level twenty?" I said in a very very small voice.

     "Yeah. I think that's fair. Level twenty."

     I let out a big sigh.  Suddenly the tables have turned. Or rather, maybe the playing field has just become more level.

     I wonder how much longer I can find excuses to purchase yarn.

Be Careful what you search for... (or it never pays to cheat)

     The other day, Jeremy emailed me with this attachment. He said, "in trying to search for crochet tutorial, I inadvertently skip the "t"...

     Maybe I'm slow, but I was trying to figure out what had happened. OHHH, the "T" in tutorial. And good ol' Google starts putting suggestions in it's drop down box the minute you start typing. Too funny.

     I'm not too sure about crochet underwear. And why would someone want a pair so badly they'd be Googling for a pattern? Come to think of it...who decided to come up with the pattern in the first place? I do suppose that it's a good idea to put a pattern up on the internet for anyone else with a hankering for some hand-made crochet underwear.

     As I was musing over how uncomfortable crochet underwear might feel, especially in scratchy wool, I had a sudden flare up of indignation. HEY! How dare he try and cheat! Looking up tutorials before the challenge truly began!  So I emailed him back:

               "BTW, u r not allowed to cheat and look for tutorials. Are we yarn shopping 2nite?"

    To which he replied:

            "yes, we're yarn shopping tonight.

            OK...no cheating however i did watch one video on chaining and now im scared."

     I laughed, evilly, if I must confess, to myself. Making a crochet chain is the first step to a project, and even our girls, ages 8 and 11, know how. In fact, they make long crochet chains all the time to use as leashes and collars for their stuffed animals.

     Good. I've got him nervous now. This is all working out better than I had hoped. This is most excellent. Most excellent indeed. 

    Of course, I still have to make a character and play this game. I have a bad feeling I'm going to lose this challenge.

Crochet V. Knitting,

    "Great," he said, "Where's the yarn? I know you have yarn."

    "No, you don't get off that easily," I told Jeremy. "I'm taking you to the mega-monster-super-duper-craft-store and you're going to have to pick out your own yarn. I'm even going to have one of the kids video this."

    He looked undaunted.  "Can we go today?"

    "No, maybe tomorrow."

      Tomorrow came and nearly went by the time we were sitting at the restaurant waiting for dinner. Positioned opposite Ruthie and me in the booth with Joshua and Hannah flanked on either side, Jeremy decided to pass the time by explaining our challenge. "So your mother is going to play LOTRO, and I'm going to learn to crochet."  

      Joshua's expression looked as if he'd eaten something extremely sour. He started to laugh. "Seriously? No. Really. Seriously?" His precious foundling manhood seemed threatened by the idea.

    "Yeah, sure, why not?" Jeremy said, firmly secure in his own masculinity, that, or he's pretty sure I'm going to back down out of the challenge and he'll get out of learning to crochet.

    "Um, Okaaaaaaaaaay," Joshua said dubiously. He infused those words with a wealth of meaning in the way only a teenager can do.

    "So Mama is going to be an Elf hunter with bows and arrows," Jeremy continued as if his monologue remained uninterrupted.

    "Oh Oh OH!" Joshua exclaimed in the way he does when he has a revelation or something he desperately needs to share. At least he doesn't raise his hand anymore like Horshack from Welcome Back, Kotter. "You should be a..."

  I cut off his well-meaning advice. "Do you want to learn to crochet?"  He sucked in his breath and scrunched up his face, biting his lips to keep from saying another word.  "Because if you want to be allowed to give me advice, you have to learn how to crochet as well."  Josh shook his head, let out his breath and said,  "Nope. That's ok."

    At that point, Jeremy looked back at me from across the table. "So, uh, what exactly is crochet?"

    "You use a hook and draw it through loops."

    "A HOOK!?" His eyes widened with whatever he was imagining. Honestly, the man just watched me crochet an entire afghan this winter. I'd have thought he was paying better attention. I don't know why I continue to deceive myself in believing my husband is observant.

    "So uh, what's the difference between knitting and crochet?" Jeremy asked.

    "Crochet uses one needle, a hook, and knitting uses two."

    "Two needles?" He asked.

    "Yes, two needles."

    "So, uh, what am I going to be making?"

    "A scarf."

    "A SCARF!?!? I thought I could start out with something easy."

    "A scarf is easy."

    Ruthie piped up, "You could show him how to make a washcloth."

    "Yeah, a washcloth. I could make a washcloth."

    "You're not getting off that easy. You're making a scarf, " I said. "And besides, I usually use the dishcloth pattern to teach basic knitting.  Would you rather knit? You can do a dishcloth if you knit."

    "Which is easier?"

    "Well, it depends on who you ask," I said. "Some will say knitting, and some will say crochet. I find crochet easier than knitting, but I learned it first, and I've been doing it longer than knitting. And some have more trouble working two needles than one hook."

    "Does this require a lot of dexterity?" Jeremy narrowed his eyes as he looked at me, sensing a trap.

    "A little, but hey, if Hannah can knit, you can crochet."

    "Daddy has dexterity," Ruthie championed his cause. "Wait. What does dexterity mean? Like hand-eye coordination? Daddy has lots of that." Joshua, shaking from holding back laughter, began to shake his head no. "Yes he does!" Ruth insisted.

    "Actually no I don't," Jeremy said. "And dexterity, in this case, means good or skilled with your hands."

    "And if you look at Daddy's handwriting," I chimed in, "You'll know he doesn't have too much dexterity." I looked back at Jeremy, "But as I said before, if Hannah can knit, he can learn to crochet. After all, he has more dexterity than a seven year old, one would hope."

    "I think I'll crochet. So uh, after dinner, can we go to the mega-monster-super-duper-craft store and pick up my yarn?"

    "I think it will be closed by the time we're done dinner. But I don't think we have anything going on tomorrow night."

    "Excellent. And then you get to start your character."

Yippee.

I might have made a deal with the devil

     My grandmother used to give this piece of advice, "Never threaten what you don't mean to carry out." She meant it in the context of disciplining children, as in, don't threaten to take their television privileges away unless you truly mean to take them away. I've discovered that issuing a challenge falls under the "be sure you want to follow through with this" warning label.  Never in a million years did I imagine my husband, Jeremy, would take up the gauntlet I threw down.

    Since his birthday a year or more ago, Jeremy has been horribly obsessed with Lord of the Rings Online.  He can easily spend several days (if he's on vacation) playing. He gets up in the morning: LOTRO. Right before bed: LOTRO. Home for lunch so he can play...yes you guessed it, LOTRO.  He's tapered back a little, because, well, real life intruded, and gosh, those bills don't pay themselves.  But mostly, if he can squeeze in a little crafting, or some tedium that lets him keep his hooks in the game, he's there.

    That's my biggest complaint. I'm a computer widow, or have been, in the past.  As I said, he's doing better. My other large complaint? He wants me to play along.  Like a religious fanatic who proselytizes non-stop, Jeremy sings the virtues of the game to me on a daily basis.  To say he's determined, would be an understatement. 

        Him: "You know there's a Grandmother who plays LOTRO."

        Me: "That's nice. I'm still not playing your stupid game."

        Him:"And some wives actually play with their husbands."

        Me:"Lovely. I'm not some wives."

        Him:"You could start your own character."

        Me:"I really have no interest."

        Him:"If you wanted a character, what character would you be? Dwarf? Elf? Hobbit? I think you'd like to be a Hobbit."

        Me:"Go away."

If we weren't having that conversation we were having another.

        Me: "The house is on fire."

        Him: "Huh? Um. I've just got to finish this quest. Give me thirty minutes." (It's never just thirty minutes. It's usually two hours.)

    We've had some serious arguments over this game. And over the last year or so, I've come to LOATHE the game withe a capital L. All the moreso once he indoctrinated The Boy.  Dinner conversations have become limited to, all things LOTRO ( For those of you hard-core LOTRO players, be reassured, I'm making the following conversation up, as I never pay attention to these conversations).

         Josh: "So the other day I was on this quest. I found the mineral deposits I was looking for, but couldn't find the rune stone."

         Him: "You need to go through the valley of Bibbidy Bop first, fight off the giant spiders. Make sure you have 50 health and use your fire skill."

         Josh: "What about my bowie knife?"

         Him: "No, that won't do it. If you can't throw fire at the Orcs you won't ever make it through the spiders."

What it sounds like to me:

        "Bwah bwah bwah bwah bwah"

    Last night Jeremy informed me, "In the Fall, LOTRO will be free for a basic account. You could have your own account. Make your own character."

        "No thanks."

        Undaunted he continued, "We could do quests together. Give Josh his own account. The three of us could do all sorts of things."

         Knowing how long he could keep this going, I decided to issue my challenge. "Ok, Fine. I'll have an account. I'll make a character, as long as you learn to crochet."

         "Great! Where's the Yarn?"