Lisa asked if anyone wanted a letter and I said sure. Here are 10 words beginning with G, and notes to explain why I chose that word.
Oh, before I begin, I’m going to tag some others with randomly chosen letters.
Crafty Mandy, you can have P.
Sarah on the Radio, you can have H.
And Furloughed Sandy, you can have F.
Don’t feel obligated, but it might be fun. Just think up ten words that begin with the letter I’ve assigned you and go from there. I’m more than willing to hand out letters to anyone else who wants to play along, so just leave a comment!
Gerald. My husband is Gerald and so is my son even though we call him Jerry with a J. But the Gerald I’m going to talk about is my husband’s father, the original Gerald. I never met him but Gerald always tells me we would have gotten on well. He used to drink coffee any time of day or night, so obviously we would have been friends. I can feel him watching over us, and that makes happy.
Greenwich Village. I spent a lot of time here when I went to NYU. I lived in dorms for all three of my years in New York. First I lived in a crappy dorm in the East Village, then in a somewhat less crappy dorm in Chinatown, and last a totally uncrappy dorm near the Seaport.
Galleria degli Uffizi. Florence, Italy. I spent one of the semesters while attending NYU in Florence “studying abroad.” By studying abroad I mean drinking too much, staying out waaaayyyyy past bedtime, meeting my best friends, and not doing much studying at all. I went to the Uffizi once, but I walked by it many many times in the wee hours with my friends on our way home from the bar. We called it the Halls of Justice.
Giants. I root for the New York Giants because my husband does. I used to root for the Buffalo Bills because I grew up in Buffalo. The other night, my husband taped Superbowl XXV and though I was only about 11 years old at the time, it still stings to think about it.
Garbage. I hardly ever take out the garbage. When I do, Gerald feels like he has to make an announcement, and this drives me nuts.
Ground Zero. From my dorm near the Seaport, I saw/felt/experienced/lived through the whole thing on Sept. 11. For a while afterwards I had bad dreams about airplanes crashing into buildings that I was in.
Goober. As in, I live in a house full of Goobers. The term is a word that we use around here to show affection. “You’re such a goob” means “I love you so much I could eat you.”
Two small goobers, one big ED. Ed is my brother and he is single.
Guero. An album by Beck. I have loved Beck ever since Loser. In college, I had this rad poster of Beck that was framed. When I moved out of my dorm room at the end of the year I left the poster in the room by accident, with a roommate that I had lived with for a year but never really gotten to know. We were roomies but not friends. Friendly but not buddies. I was so sad, but was able to cope with the loss knowing my roommate would take care of my poster for me. Erin Finnegan? Did you save my Beck poster?
Geography. I studied tourism in college. I imagined that I would be a manager at a large hotel chain and travel the world working in exotic locations and living a very grand life. Then in my thirties I would open my own luxurious, charming and profitable inn. Well, things don’t always end up how you plan them. After Jerry was born, I finished up my degree in Recreation Parks & Tourism at UNCG. One of the classes I was required to take was Tourism Geography. I loved every second of it and wished I had been a geography major all along. Someday….
Guage. I’m working on a sweater for myself. I actually washed my swatch, which was a first (GASP). Here it is.
Obviously I have more swatching to do, since the “shaping” above was unintentional. The guage ranges from 6.25 sts per inch to 7.5 sts per inch. The second swatch (also knit in the round, like the one pictured above) is currently on the needles. With Jerry’s sweater done, and a small interim project almost done, I’m getting ready to focus all my knitterly attention on this sweater – the first one I will have ever made for myself!