The Book, The Knitting, The DNC & More...

 Oh my. So much going on. So I'm writing a book - well, a CHAPTER in a book. And it's done; this weekend, we finish the last revisions. Then it goes to the publisher and in October-ish, we have a book. A. Book. We're keeping the cover a closely guarded secret for right now. This is Volume 3 - and there I am - Pat Perrier...  

I'm so tickled to bring this to you, and as soon as it's available, I'll let you know. I have Volumes 1 and 2, and they're great resources to use during these chaotic times. Laura DiFranco has organized all of these for us and I can tell you that writing the chapter was a great experience. I've been writing since I was a kid. I've written stories, I've written articles. I've edited textbooks. I've written columns, both in the "traditional" newspaper and in the e-zine elephant journal (yes, no caps in the title). My dream has been to write a whole book. And I feel like a chapter is a good start. 

Maybe the whole book will come. I've looked here, and I've been on Blogger for 14 years. Fourteen. Years. So of course, Blogger just recently changed its format. 

The new format sucks. 

SUCKS.

And nobody will help or answer you. They've made it infinitely more difficult to blog. To select pictures. To manipulate the way the pictures work in the blog. 

Now, I'm perfectly willing to tell you that I am not the center of the Universe. Blogger (for that matter, Google, which owns the company) doesn't have to accommodate my process. Usually, I have a topic in mind. And I have pictures. I write the first paragraph, then dump all the pics in. Then write the rest. 

But now? I can't dump pics in; they don't play well with the text. Text doesn't wrap properly. You can load one picture. At a time. For a photo-heavy blog like this one, that's a major pain in the patoot. The "new" Blogger? FUBAR. F-U-B-A-R. 

*normally, "f'd up" but in my clean version: Fouled Up Beyond All Recognition. Anyone in the military will know this one...

I hope that they listen to the multitude of us who've used the platform for over decades - and take it back to the "legacy" version. Don't fix what wasn't broken. 

The Knitting...

It's a baby binge. No, pets -- no announcements are imminent. Though I do have a few "parents to be" - none of them are actually related to me. 

I've done a stash into the "Oddments Bag" - which is where I keep the scraps from FOs (finished objects). So, left to right, the stripey one is Encore Worsted. The center teal one is the leftovers from The Dreaded Teal Sock (bet you thought I'd burned that yarn, didn't you??) - Trekking XL. And right, the other Encore Worsted, with a lighter yellow held double there. Not sure I'm really jazzed about that, but I like the I-cord top knot. All of these are free patterns, from Rav. The two worsted weight ones are Julie Taylor's Tegan Baby Hat, which for the striped one, I just omitted the top knot. 

The teal one is Sesia Bimbo (don't even ask, I have no idea) - Plymouth Yarn's rolled brim baby hat. 

The next one is a combo from a baby blanket I knitted where the yarn was held double - but this time, I separated them and did this rectangle hat. It's from Katinka Knits, on Ravelry, and called "Easiest Baby Hat." Truth. 

The pompoms were my idea. I finally found a pom-pom maker that works. So I'm addicted to them. But not to worry - they won't show up on anything but hats! 

And the final baby hat is a pretty obnoxious green. But that's ok. I'm sure the recipient will adore it. It's the Emergency One Day Hat, which in my case takes more than one day. This is the pattern I used for the 4 Christmas hats I knitted last year. Also free on Ravelry. 

Lest you think I'm a cheapskate, I do actually BUY patterns. I've got a few Wooly Hooligan tee shirts and a few others. They're in the line for production soon. Like Long Sands, which is set aside for a minute till I finish this hat. 

I'm enjoying whacking out these hats. A few will go to definite babies. I still have to work on that one Feather & Fan car seat blanket. And Kid #2's afghan has GOT to get finished this year. In 2020, with all the crap floating around, the Kid is GETTING that afghan this year. 

I Do More Than Knit...

Which you all knew. But here is a shot of just a few of my needlework projects. And a new mask for tomorrow's yoga training. I'm futzing with the elastic and it needs work. But it'll do for the weekend training. 

So, upper left, upper right and lower left are counted cross stitch. Lower right is crewel embroidery. 

This kind of needlework had been my main crafting for decades. Of course, BB (before bifocals)...when I could bring these small projects to work and stitch during my lunch breaks. Now, not only do I have a few that are on big stretcher bars, but I don't see well enough anymore. Not like it's fatal - just being in my 60s has changed what I can easily see in "office lighting." So I keep those home, and pull 'em out every so often and put in a few stitches. 

I couldn't resist this fabric. I went into JoAnn Fabrics SPECIFICALLY to buy pizza-themed fabric for Kid #2. More masks needed for when they go back to the classroom. Right now, that district is remote for the first quarter. But eventually, there will be a wardrobe of masks. 

I'm doing that for myself, too. Because it looks like we'll be doing this for a while. Our rate in our county is 7.9% and 8% is the threshold for going back a phase or two. Time will tell. But I'm not happy about the prospect of closing my yoga studio again. 

Ahem. Back to masks. So I saw this flamingo fabric and got a half a yard. I already had the plain muslin for the back and I did a "ring" of elastic. I need to tighten that up a bit. It has to sit kind of high on my head. But that's ok. I also bought seam binding, which I can stitch up and use as ties if I need to do that. 

They're not exactly heirlooms. And I'm still making the 3-pleat ones for a fundraiser. I believe the fabric is multiplying in the dark because the pile doesn't get shorter. But then, I need to stop shopping... 

Perception is Everything...

I love chocolate covered graham crackers. If I have a "vice," this is it. So I bought some and I didn't pay attention to the package. Normally, I don't buy Keebler - the store brand is usually good, but they didn't have any of those. 

Look. A scandal. Normally, they're about 2.5" square. 

These are not. They are tiny. They aren't "grahams" -- they're "snippets." You can see my index finger as an example of scale. What kind of trickery is this? What bamboozle is being played on unsuspecting fans of chocolate covered graham crackers?

Reminds me of sugar. Used to be, you'd buy sugar in 5-pound bags, but about 5 or 6 years ago (could be more, I'm not sure), they squidged the bags down to 4 lbs. Same price, of course... just less sugar. 

Just didn't make my day. In spite of the fact that they were, actually, pretty good. I really love the dark chocolate ones I can find at Starbucks, but I don't love the price. So, these were a good choice, because they "fixed" my craving. But still. The size. 

Size matters.

The DNC...

For the first time in a long, long time, I actually watched most of the Democratic National Convention. Full disclosure: Biden/Harris wasn't my dream team. Warren/Harris was. Or Warren/Duckworth... 

But. It is a ticket I can live with. Like you read on social media: This isn't a marriage. It's a way to get us from Point A (#MangoMussolini) to Point B (actual reality, rule of law, and progress). 

It's COVID time, so of course it wasn't IRL (in real life). So while that took away some of the energy, it substituted something better: You could actually concentrate on the platform. On the speeches. You could hear everything. 

Some highlights, in my opinion: Tammy Duckworth's speech. Just listen. And of course, Michelle Obama's speech. And Barack Obama's dire warning. It's not "over-done." It's right on target. And if you're not scared, you're not paying attention. Listen here.

Then there was the music. John Legend and Common. The Chicks. The kids singing the anthem. Jennifer Hudson. 

Joe Biden did the best job on his speech. Ever. I've heard him speak for years. But this? He nailed it. 

Kamala Harris did a good job doing what she did: introducing herself to us as a human being. A friend said, "I was afraid they'd label her An Angry Black Woman if she went after anyone." Yeah, she could have. But Barack did it for her. So she could show us that she wasn't just a prosecutor. 

And besides... She made Brett Kavanaugh cry. That's perfect. She doesn't have to prove herself as "the attacker." She's proven that with Barr and Kavanaugh. I'm good with it, and I'm anxious to watch the show over the next 70-some days. 

Please check your registration. Vote. Our democracy depends on it. Go here to do that. Takes less than a minute. Do it now; I'll wait...  

Random Picture...

So in the spirit of a new day.... This is a picture out the back door of the studio from 2017, of a beautiful rainbow. 

During the Obama years it was about Hope and Change. 

Then, it was about .... I'm not sure, but hate and discontent happened and then the rich got richer. Then xenophobia. 

Then a pandemic. And chaos. 

We need a rainbow. We, as a culture, are a rainbow - a blend of people, ideas, cultures. We need to begin to celebrate that again. We've lost it and in the process lost what was good and kind about our country. 

Let's work to get that back. 

Yoga Online Subscription Service

www.just-breatheyoga.com

Two levels: Senior ($85/month till September 15 - after that, $95/mo) and Premium (access to over 150 hours of classes) for $125/month. 

Random Ramblings...

1.  When you have an idea for a blog, you should blog. Don't assume you'll remember it. Because you won't. 

2.  I wrote a song in my head at 4 a.m. this morning. I don't write songs...For some reason I thought I'd remember THAT too. 

3.  I haven't. 

4.  Could the US be any more embarrassed? The Nectarine Nitwit just said, in POLAND, for God's sake, that it must've been "tough" to be invaded by the Soviets and Germany. Oh good grief! And they're apparently having to pay crowds to show up for him. Because, you know...tiny hands, large ego.

5.  Illinois...The Board of Elections says it's taking a "long, slow" look at the demand from the Fraud Fruitcakes. Oops - I mean the "commission" to look for "fraud" because, you know...tiny hands, large ego. They finally got the letter because the "commission" sent it to the wrong department. We've flooded Springfield with our very strong suggestions that they tell the "commission" to go jump in the lake.

6.  Illinois, #2...the legislature has voted to increase taxes. No surprise. The governor has sworn that this is a "2x4 in the face." Madigan needs to lay down and actually die - he's been in power 30+ years, and kinda reminds me of a zombie. Rauner needs to understand that, until and unless Madigan lays down and dies, he (Rauner) isn't going to get what he wants. The state has taken one small step to avoid being the first in the nation to have "junk bond" status. Lucky us. Jailing governors and being broke...it's a legacy of sorts. I think the taxes suck, but if you look at the taxes around us? We're just about on par with neighbor Indiana - who also told the "commission" (see above) to take a hike. Yes, there's a better solution. No, I don't have a clue what it is. Yes, we've dug our own hole here. No, I have no idea how to get out of it. Yes, I'd like to leave the state. No, I probably won't. 

7. Back to reading Faulkner. I just can't get on with "It Can't Happen Here." That one is by Sinclair Lewis, and I've been plowing through it since January. And I just can't. I really. Just. Can't. If you wonder why, pick it up. Sinclair Lewis is amazingly relevant. Berzelius Windrip reminds me of someone. Someone Nectarine. Read the parts about the 15 promises. If it doesn't send a chill up your spine, then you're either a member of "the base" who'll believe the swill coming from the un-drained DC swamp, or -- you're dead. Or - you may be very wealthy and above the fray we mere mortals have to deal with. Either way. Check your pulse and your privilege. 

8. The vanilla sock is coming along. It's great to have a mindless knitting project. I was jacking with my sister, who has to go to a shower (neither of us are much on baby showers, and particularly the games - we love to give the mommies the gifts, but we'd rather skip the whole "let's taste and identify the baby food" stuff). I don't have to go because I haven't been invited. And I'm not heartbroken. And I'm tickled that I don't have to crank out baby knitting. So I can concentrate on the socks and the sweater. And maybe crank out a few washcloths this summer. I'm still trying to get through some of the stash, and these projects will help. 

9. I have at least one more sweater I want to try. It's a plain, more of a t-shirt thing. It's a cotton-silk blend yarn, and I have a lovely chocolate brown for it. That will be nice - it's where the seams are "showing" as an element of the design. I started it a while ago in a beautiful grass-green, but I "outgrew" the size (I got heavier). I'll have to pull out the green one and see what it looks like - maybe now I can actually fit in it. If I remember, the green one is about 2/3 done! I set it aside when I gained the weight. 

10. Hubby got a bumper for the "heart phone." When we got it, we did get the gorilla glass, but there wasn't any kind of case available, and I have the heart monitor on the back, so I couldn't put an Otterbox or anything on it. Well, I dropped it one too many times, and the gorilla glass did its job. It shattered, not the screen! Hubby did find a bumper made for this model, and I can still do all the stuff with it. And still record the daily EKGs. Everything's fine. I'm just making sure it stays that way. It's cute and it's such a bright red that even I should be able to find it at the bottom of one of my more bottom-less purses! It's a small phone, and it tends to disappear in the nether regions of whatever bag I'm currently carrying. 

11. I switched to a slightly smaller purse. Let's see how this works! It'll fit my Kindle, but not my knitting. But I needed to lighten the load. How did I imagine I actually needed all of that stuff? And how am I going to function now that I'm not carrying it?

We Interrupt Our Regular Program...

...because LIFE. 

I'm sorry to have been gone so long. It seems like I dropped off the face of the earth after vacation. The truth is, I'm spinning madly and I wish I meant that in a fiber-related way. Instead, I'm spinning plates in the air and trying to keep them all going. And not always doing so well. 

Nothing Serious...

Nothing serious - heart's fine, family is cool. Just that I'm over-scheduled and upset with the fact that I'm too busy to do much of what I'd prefer and am instead, doing things I'd rather not be doing. 

I did resign from a board of which I was a member for over 15 years. It was time. I'm a firm believer in enabling others to take over. I'm not the be-all and end-all of anything. It's very much "to everything there is a season" and I had found an able replacement for my seat so I didn't worry about it too much. 

I'm still involved in one group, but I've let up on myself. If I miss a meeting, I miss a meeting. That's the way life is. 

In short, in some ways, I'm burning out. 

Writing...

Because of the busy-ness, I haven't written in a long while. I'm out of practice. I did try a poem... I was reading far too much Plath and thought I could do a poem. Turns out that I don't do so well with poetry. No surprise there. Kid #2 critiqued it and said that I needed to work on cento styles - where you take various lines from different poems and basically rearrange them. 

I thought about it. I thought about trees. Do you KNOW how many poems there are about trees??? 

So I'm thinking and planning and trying to find time to write. It's hard to come by. But I think I need it. I'm starving here for putting words together. 

Knitting...

Two projects on the needles, not counting the WIPs. 

Here is the Sally Melville "Shape It" scarf, in baby alpaca, on larger needles. I'm working on the "wings" of it. It's a pretty one, and I think that if I can get myself moving, it'll be ready for the cooler weather. I'm really liking the way this is knitting up and I think the "bouncy-ness" of the resulting fabric will not only block out nicely but will be almost "thermal" with the little halo of the alpaca fibers. 

I have another hank of baby alpaca in fall-ish colors which I could use to do another one, and this is really a "traveling" project, much like the Before and After scarf. Once you've done the triangle part in the beginning, the wings are the mindless knitting part. 

The other is seriously something I might re-name -- my favorite baby sweater. A friend is pregnant, and she loves orange. So this is on the needles as well. I have brown buttons with a cartoon-like giraffe figure on them. It'll work. This looks a bit bright, but it's a very lush autumnal orange. It's the "New Arrival Cardigan" and I'm thinking of re-naming it (even though it's not mine to re-name) "My Usual" because it's actually my go-to baby gift lately. I'm stashing them with unnamed yarn thanks to my friend Doris (not the Franklin Habit "Doris" but a real person who handed me over several large balls of acrylic - good acrylic, but acrylic nonetheless) and I'm just knitting them up as I go. I'm trying to do matching hats, but that depends on the yield I get from the yarns. I can use buttons from my button tin and they don't have to match or be "baby-themed." It's kind of a grown-up baby cardigan with the asymmetric front. 

So I have a knitting gripe... I bought two yarn bowls from Darn Good Yarn, and I'm disappointed at them. The sweater yarn is Cascade 220 Superwash wool. And it's spilling over the yarn bowls. I measured them, and I didn't take into account the thickness of the base of the bowl. 

So I have one for a Christmas present, and I have to decide what to do. I got them on sale. They're stunning. But they're small. Maybe the Arne & Carlos 50 gm skeins would fit more nicely, but this large cake isn't cutting it.

Anyway, I've got to get my stash under control (go ahead, laugh) and see what's what. Start knitting my way through stuff and getting my act together. 

Really Ironic...

At the Fresh Thyme, I saw these two things and I was gobsmacked. S'mores kits. Seriously. 

In full disclosure, I've never had a S'more. My kids think I've missed something essential - like water or consistent meals. But I never had one. And this apparently is a great way to experience that. Notice that they even have the firewood there. A complete family evening. 

Maybe one day I'll experience them, but right now, I just thought that was a very odd thing. I've see the usual thing: Buy a box of graham crackers, a dozen Hershey bars and a bag of jumbo marshmallows. I'm not sure about this kit. I guess I think "It could have been sitting in a warehouse for months. I wonder how fresh the contents are?" 

Food snob much?

And this was the other abomination. Look at the middle shelf there. And tell me how hard it really is to make "infused water" at home. I mean really - glass bottle, cucumber, water. Assemble. Chill. Done. It would be different if they were at least in a glass bottle, but they're in plastic. I just can't imagine the laziness. 

I totally get convenience; but this is just one step too far. Just think of the increased number of plastic bottles that'll be tossed because of this "convenience." Boggles the mind...

Yoga...

Well, the studio is humming along; I wish I could devote even more time to it. These are two pictures that Kid #2 did for me. I wasn't sure where I was going to hang them, but the saying is on the far wall, and the Om is on the dark blue wall over the altar. It's really amazing how the blues in his stencils do so well with the blues on the wall. Blue is notorious for being difficult to match and coordinate. These really look good. 

When I first saw the saying, I misread who said it. I thought it was Gandhi...but it's Malcolm Gladwell. The students are enjoying both pieces and while I was thinking of framing them, the consensus is: No. 

We just had a great workshop, and another one is coming up in October. We've found that we really do need to have one workshop per month. Our market won't stand more, but we do need to do something special every month. So we'll work on 2017 and see what happens. 

So the plan going forward is to do what I can to start building that up - it will mean even MORE busy-ness and even LESS time to actually have a life, but if I want to reach my goal, I need to create a situation where I have reliable income from the studio. 

It's definitely a work in progress. 

Random Picture...


This Buddha was at the window, and now he's occupying my desk. 

The two stones are from Lake Michigan. I love the vague heart-shaped spot in the rock on the right. I use them as paperweights when I need to. My desk is pretty much a disaster, and often I need to hold things down, since I have a fan running all day in the office. 

When Buddha was in the window, the light shone through the blue and white and pearly stones; he looked as if he were floating. 

It's a nice touch. For some odd reason, Buddha in a sugar bowl on glass rocks - it's soothing and makes me slow down and breathe. The Lake Michigan stones remind me of my friend's vacation place, the crashing waves, and the power of the lake. And the peace. Of water, of silence, and of the space - the horizon stretching almost to infinity as you gaze across the lake. 

And breathe. 

The Portable Faulkner...

As in William. 

Here's the thing. It's a tradition, once you've made it through Faulkner's novel Absalom, Absalom! that you plan a pilgrimage to his grave. 


The tradition includes taking a swig of whiskey (he favored Jack Daniels) and leaving the rest of the bottle on his monument... 

So, Kid #2 and I did that. I mean, we both read Absalom, Absalom! And I promised him a trip to Oxford, MS. It was initially to be after he graduated from college, but life got in the way, and for that I'm sorry. But we're planning it for this July. 

Who in their right mind goes to MISSISSIPPI in July?? Well, I guess we're going. I've looked at the Southern Living version of the trip, and we'll get together to plan the logistics. I'm going to drive, because my Edge is wayyyyyyy more comfortable (and larger!) than his older Focus. And no, I'm not planning to drink the whiskey! 

So in preparation for the trip, I've started to read the book that the Kid gave me for Christmas, The Portable Faulkner. It's a compendium of all of his novels - little snippets that show the arc of his writing and how he progressed through his version of the South and its culture. 

Faulkner isn't an easy read. But here's the point: once you get into it? You're automatically drawn into the prose. I could say "soaring prose" but it's been said before. What I will say is that the rhythm of his words and the pace of his writing gets to you, once you muscle up your literary courage and dive in. Like a dip in Lake Michigan before August -- it's cold, dude!! But once you're in there, you kind of like it. 

Instead of working on the flyer for my studio's upcoming workshop with Gabriel Halpern, I'm dashing off this blog. I'm also avoiding laundry... Ahem.

If you've never read Faulkner before, or have dim memories of A Rose for Emily from high school, let me refresh your synapses. I'm at the point in the book where we're talking about "The Courthouse" -- how Jefferson got its name. Here's a little taste:

  That was Ratcliffe's trouble. But they didn't even listen. The heard him out of course, but they didn't even listen. Or perhaps they didn't even hear him either, sitting along the shade on Holston's gallery, looking, seeing, already a year away; it was barely the tenth of July, there was the long summer, the bright soft dry fall until the November rains, but they would require not two days this time but two years and maybe more, with a winter of planning and preparation before hand. 

You will notice, if you're a grammarian, that this man never met a form of punctuation he couldn't gleefully ignore. Many of his paragraphs end with a semi-colon. And many of his sentences...well, they just kind of meander like the Mississippi River itself. But once you've caught the pace, you're enthralled. He uses words that you rarely see. When was the last time you saw a sentence like this one? (This is actually the last SENTENCE of the PARAGRAPH before the one above...and yes, the paragraph ends with a semi-colon.)

 It was he - they: the settlement (town now) - who had thought of charging the lock to the United States as a provable lock, a communal risk, a concrete ineradicable object, win lose or draw, let the chips fall where they may, on that dim day when some Federal inspector might, just barely might, audit the Chickasaw affairs; it was the United States itself which had voluntarily offered to show them how to transmute the inevictable lock into proofless and ephemeral axle grease - the little scrawny childsized man, solitary unarmed impregnable and unalarmed, not even defying them, not even advocate and representative of the United States, but THE United States, as though the United States had said, "Please accept a gift of fifteen dollars," (the town had actually paid old Alec fifteen dollars for the lock; he would accept no more) and they had not even declined it but simply abolished it since, as soon as forever lost it; as though Pettigrew had put the actual ponderable fifteen gold coins into -- say, Compson's or Peabody's - hands and they had dropped them down a rathole or a well, doing no man any good, neither restoration to the ravaged nor emolument to the ravager, leaving in fact the whole race of man, as long as it endured, forever and irrevocably fifteen dollars deficit, fifteen dollars in the red;

    
See what I mean? That's ONE sentence. When was the last time you read or used the word "emolument" in a sentence? What I love about his prose is that he's really painting with words, and you have to be at the top of your game to get what he's laying out on the page. You have to - in your own defense - grab onto your vocabulary and have a dictionary handy. You have to - I've learned - have a pencil handy. I don't normally write in books. But Faulkner? He begs for annotations. He baits you. He forces you to go back and read - and re-read - a passage for the nuggets he's buried in the vast landscape of a simple sentence. Of course, "simple" in regard to a sentence he writes? Well, that's relative. 

There is, of course, the famous one-sentence chapter in his novel, As I Lay Dying. I believe it's Chapter 19? "My mother is a fish." 

Yep. That's it. I read that novel, which was relatively short, on a plane trip to Texas. I'm sure that the title put my fellow seat-mates slightly on edge. But I hate flying. I needed something to really engage my brain in case knitting didn't do it. 

Faulkner may even persuade me to set aside The Pickwick Papers, which has been my bedtime reading. Dickens does have a habit of putting you to sleep, except that this Kindle edition has some odd markings - like someone didn't know how to format the document. They're annoying enough to make me lose sleep!

Knitting...

Worked on Sock #2 of "Bowties" last night. I think I might play with the "travel project" of "Before and After" scarves, just to give my hands a break from the endless small needles. 

I think I have something going here with "pairs." Because the travel project is a PAIR of scarves... 


As you can see, I'm a fan of stitch markers. I use a solid one for marking my "needle 1" and then I use a pin-style to catch the tail of the cast-on and that one will move up once I get the pattern established on the leg. I love the pin-style markers for their versatility and because they're really fairly secure. The split-ring markers have their use, of course, but I've dropped those little suckers a couple of times!

And I really don't like the rigid triangular ones. I know - they're supposed to work wonders by snuggling up to your needle. But for me? The yarn always goes around them oddly, to my eyes, and creates a loose spot. So I don't use them unless I can't find the ones I really want to use. 

Stitch markers are both the bane and benefit of a knitter's toolkit. We need them. We buy them. We lose them. We buy more... It's kind of like our version of Lego blocks. You'll find them in the oddest places when you least need them. 

Before and After Scarf  #1

I'm really coming close to the finish line with the "Before and After" scarf - the first one of the pair. I can't wait to block this out. The only worry I have is the provisional cast-on. Like an idiot, I did it with a worsted weight yarn. Soooooo - it'll be interesting because the beads that go on that lace-weight yarn may not be as snug as I'd like them. The beads for this peacock-toned yarn are...well, peacock-toned themselves. They'll add needed weight onto the bottoms of the scarf. 

I've never knitted with beads, so this will be a new skill to learn, and I'm looking forward to it. I think that, if I knitted on this for a solid month, I'd have this one done, beads included. I'm not sure that I actually WILL knit on it for a solid month, but I do have to get cracking on it. Lord knows that its solid-colored mate will be dead boring, so I need to just figure out a system for alternating projects. 

Go ahead, laugh. Because you've heard this before, right? 

I'll know for the second one, a really rather interesting shade of lime-ish-green (what was I thinking????), that you should use a similar weight yarn when you use a provisional cast-on. I'll grab some spare sock-weight yarn. I don't keep much lace-weight around, and I'm not burrowing into the stash to clip some off of the few hanks I have. 

Finished look

The beads for this lime-ish, pale avocado yarn are a pretty, slightly deeper shade of green - rather like a peridot. They look good with the yarn. The idea is that you wear these as a pair. See the picture - which is the one on the pattern itself. I've linked it up a few paragraphs. 

I love the layered effect, and I think this is totally do-able with just about anything in my wardrobe. When (if) I get another full-time job, it'll be a great pair to layer in the air-conditioned space - just enough to keep the draft off your neck, but not too much, since I'm having my own "personal summers" lately! 

The alpaca lace yarn is wonderful to use; it's so fine that you - or at least, I - worry about the strength, but the ply is nice and firm and I can see how lovely it'll be once it's blocked out. Yep, it's a hot mess when you look at that "before" picture. But the "after" will be well-worth it. 

It'll probably take every square of my blocking panels, and I'm really happy that at the Knitting & Crochet Guild expo a few years ago, I splurged on lace blocking rods. I'll need them. 

Speaking of a Job...

I was lamenting to my brother that jobs for people with my skills are just NOT happening. The state Department of Employment Security (ha) keeps sending me notices for job fairs, and most of them are of the "forklift, material handler, assembler" variety. 

I am absolutely not saying that I'm not "worthy" of such jobs. 

I just can't drive a forklift. Somewhere in all my education, I've never had a chance to learn that. 

So, Brother says, "I'll teach you."

And you know what? I may take him up on that. I'm handy. I can at least take a stab at this. He taught me to shoot a handgun and drive a stick-shift. I taught him to write a coherent memo and how to interpret a musical score. This could work...

In an interview I had recently, I was asked the question, "Where do you see your career going?" In my head, I answered, "I want to ramp down and not travel all over God's Green Acre, and have a job with some security." 

But what I answered instead was, "As you can see by my resume, I've had some interesting twists and turns in my career. I've always thought that my best career opportunities came when I opened my mind to different possibilities. Since I've never worked in this sector, but I have the skills and competencies you're looking for, I thought that this would be a very interesting possibility for me."

Oy, the schmaltz... 

But it's true. My best jobs have come when I've thought, "Hmmmmmm. This sounds interesting." I'm hoping that this interview comes to something, but you just don't know. 

Otherwise, I'm gonna learn to drive a forklift. 

Random Picture...

Do you get it? 

How To Write...

Odd title, right? Well, no. Not exactly. It came about because of a conversation I had yesterday at a fundraiser.

I'm promoting myself as an editor, copywriter and voice-over artist -- all of which I do, and I do them all quite well. As I was leaving (and managing to get the zipper stuck in my down coat, and it was freezing out, and someone had left me exactly 3" between my truck and their car - on MY driver's side...), she and I were chatting about writing. 

She said, "I wish I could write." I said, "It's as much a skill as it is an art." And it is. There are people who can string words together in absolute poetry even when they're writing prose. There are poets that can, even if you don't "get" poetry, make you weep. There are people who can write a grant to give your organization funding beyond your dreams. And there are people who can write up directions clearly enough so that you, too can build an airplane in your back yard. 

I know this. Because I can do some of it, but I know what I can't do. I can write decent prose. I can write compelling copy. I can write you the directions to build that airplane. 

I can't write a grant. I've tried. I have not been successful. But that's ok. Each of us has a gift with the written word - I'm sure of it. We just need to find it, hone it, and keep at it. 

For example, my brother is a very smart person. Seriously - he builds planes. For fun. But when we were in college together, he couldn't write a paper to save his soul - or his GPA! So I was able to help him on a couple of levels. First, he's my brother so I can say with brutal honesty that his writing was awful. To his face. And he was wise enough to know that if Big Sister is telling you that "you sound totally stupid," you should listen to her. 

He would panic when it was time for a paper to be written. So I helped him develop a method that I'm sure has a technical name, but I call it "BARF" -- there's no fancy acronym here. What I told him was "barf all of it out on paper and we'll clean it up after you're done." Which is basically what happens when you barf, right? 

He got more and more comfortable just dumping piles of information onto paper, and watching what I did to edit them. He learned the rhythm of words and phrasing, learned and grasped the finer points of structure, and got comfortable with his own writing voice. 

I remember how proud he was when he said, "Hey, I wrote a memo at work and I got really good feedback!" 

No, I'm not being patronizing. I'm being realistic. We went over and over this - for 2 years. Like I'm not familiar with the inner workings of a small airplane's engine, he was not familiar with writing something without a net, if you will. He had to learn. And I was happy to teach him. 

That trick also worked for my own kids and for Kid #2 when he teaches - he tells his students, "just get it on the page." 

I write, sometimes, when I have nothing to say. Just to keep getting the words on the page. It's practice. Just like I'm practicing 'Ode to Joy' on the guitar. I have to keep working at it to "get it into my hands" as my guitar teacher says. Getting the words on the page keeps the juices flowing. 

One of the best places to look for writing prompts is, surprisingly, Pinterest. Here's one. What would you say about this? Sit with it a moment. 

Think about it. Where does this lead? What does it stir in your soul? What sings to you -- or even better, what does NOT sing to you in this picture?

All of these questions lead to your putting pen to paper (or fingers to keys) and starting. Just start. Get it on the page. 

Then, my suggestion is to let it marinate a bit. Don't immediately grab your red pen or slam on the "delete" button. let it sit with you. Close the journal. Save the page. Go do something else. 

Then come back to it later. Maybe the next day. Set a time to sit with your writing. Look at your writing kindly. Give yourself credit for getting the words onto the page. Then, turn on a slightly critical eye. Did your words transmit your thoughts? Do you see where you might tweak it a little? Clarify a little? How's your structure? Look at the mechanics later... For right now, just get the words down and then review them with a sense of wonder for the ability to get it out there. 

And then try again. And keep trying. 

Healthy Sense of Irony...

Yes. This is what was on my dashboard the other day. You will please note the title of the song on Sirius and in the lower left hand corner the outside temperature. 

Yeah, I know it's all computer driven and this song just happened to come up on the rotation. But the sense of irony is quite delicious when you consider that I came to a sliding stop at the end of the alley on my way to a meeting. I wasn't exactly speeding either - I was making my way down an alley that had, a day before, been mushy. Then it iced over, care of the next round of deep freeze. 

I just had to laugh. 

It May as Well be Pretty...

If you have to eat celery, it may as well be on the nice china. Yeah, I'm not exactly a paragon of health these days. Thanks to Quinn, I had a minor altercation with 50 lbs. of Elkhound whamming into my knee. My knee lost the battle. I'm going to the doctor on Wednesday. 

In the meantime, I'm cleaning up my eating habits yet again. Sugar is a real stinker, and I have to cut way down on it. Now, mind you, I do like celery. And I love cream cheese. But I was in a mood the other day, and I thought, "If I have to live like this, at least I want to make it look nice." So I dragged out the china, which we got for a wedding present and have used a total of what? Five times? Maybe? 

It didn't make the celery taste any differently. And it wasn't any more satisfying. Hubby laughed. But at least I can say that I'm using my china. And I did enjoy the celery anyway. 

My Year in Socks...

No change here. Working away at the afghan and I haven't picked up the sock in a while. 

Knitting...

I'm onto the garnet red section of the afghan. Just plowing through a bit. It's a very easy pattern to memorize, and I can do it watching TV or in the evenings when I feel the worst temptation to chow down on a jelly sandwich (see the "gotta cut out sugar" thing above). 

Random Picture...

Just a little taste of spring for those of us suffering in the latest wave of "oh, man is it cold!" 

These are the bleeding heart from the monster that lives on the northwest corner of my yard. I love these. They're nearly 35 years old. They come up every spring like clockwork, and I wait for them every year. This year is no exception. While I love winter (stop - I really do), and I would like at least another 5" or so of snow (without the bone-chilling cold) so that I can get out on my snowshoes (if I haven't totally wrecked my knee, thanks Quinn), I look forward to spring. 

The bleeding heart is the harbinger for me. When it comes up, I know that life is all good.

Perhaps a Reboot?

I'm not looking to be the Yarn Harlot. Not even the Pioneer Woman. I'm just looking to exercise my writing chops, perhaps inject a little humor into someone's day, and natter on (and on and on...) about things I like, such as my dog, knitting, etc.

So I'm thinking of a reboot of sorts. Some sort of structure to The Blog. I think I tried this a while ago and it failed somewhat spectacularly when I just didn't blog for months on end...But I have been looking at what other folks are doing, and I like bits and pieces. And I prefer to adapt things to my own way of doing them. Who doesn't, right?

So I was thinking that perhaps each post should have ONE THING about knitting. Or maybe one specific day could be my "Randomly" day. I feel like I need to talk more about reading. It's seeming to me that this is generally a "knitting blog" which is fine but when you use The Google, you see about 20,500,000 entries for the term "knitting blog." Seriously. I just did it. 

But I'm not going to do that now. I'll probably start next week. I like the idea of "starting at the beginning" and technically, this being Saturday, it's the "end" of my workweek. So we shall see how this shakes out next week. I'm still committed to not losing sight of the blog. Maybe not a daily entry, but at least 3 times per week. 

Heart...

As expected, nothing showed up on the 24-hour monitor. And because we have The Big Trip coming up, the doc didn't want to do a 30-day monitor. That would no doubt cause a crap-load of trouble with the TSA and its foreign equivalents. "No, seriously, here's a note from my doctor. It's a HEART MONITOR." 

When we get back, I'm to have an ultrasound for some reason: mostly so my doc can make sure things are doing what they're supposed to do.

In the meantime, he says, basically, mazel tov - have a wonderful trip. To my question about a tandem parasailing adventure, he said, "Even if you keeled over, it's not life-threatening, and there's a doctor in Bordeaux who's done more atrial ablations than anyone else. Ever. He's fantastic." 

Thanks, doc. So there's no problem with me strapping myself to a parasailing expert and flinging myself off a minor Alp, gliding along at thermals approximately 10,000 feet up. Gulp. 

Here's a video of what we're thinking of. Problem is, Hubby wants to do one at a higher elevation (go for it, dear - you've got excellent life insurance coverage), but he's thinking of us doing them on the same day. My idea was the lower elevation, mainly because I'm not all that physically fit lately, and I don't want to climb up the mountain! Which is a problem for 2 reasons: First, we end up in two totally different cities, and I'm not planning on taking my cell phone. I don't speak French. Second, we're only bringing the one camera and the GoPro. We can't both be using them at the same time. So we're still negotiating that. We'll be in that area for 2 days, so my thought was one each day. 

Dear Mother Nature...

Of course, leading up to the trip, I'm having "periodic visits" after being a long while without. So, Dear Mother Nature: Could you please just shut off and STAY OFF? While I will, with great regret, miss your monthly (sometimes MULTIPLE times a month) visits, I will try my utmost to adapt. What? You caught that great steaming pile of snark there? Sorry about that. I'll try to be more sincere. 

Please, please, PLEASE don't make me haul a ton of "sanitaries" in my luggage. I just would rather you confine your visits to -- well -- to NO visits, thanks. I'm 55. When does this shut off? Thanks, but I no longer wish to be a hormonal over-achiever. 

Knitting...

So I do have most of the stash photographed (including the new stuff) and then yesterday, Doris hauled off and handed me some more. What? Say no? Who are we kidding here? I have some lovely bright red cotton - a sweater's worth, if not a little more, and some fantasy yarn that I have no idea what to do with. I will get them photographed before the Obligatory Birthday Party Appearance and up on Ravelry. Perhaps Ravelers will have an idea; they usually do!

Along with that my friend Joan is doing a project which will require Sonda's Hand-Dyed. As you know, my friend Sonda is no longer with us, and Joan is her mom. Her project is to knit something for each of the kids/grandkids from what remains of Sonda's Hand-Dyed. Doris gave her some purple and I have the yellow/orange in stash. So I'll go rooting today or tomorrow to see what I can find - I think it's a good thing and even though I had something planned for my last hank, this is a better place for it. I'll adjust and grab another Lorna's Laces or something for the shawl I was planning. 

Obligatory Birthday Party Appearance...

So I have a friend that I've known for nigh onto 45-ish years. We used to be close. Then we drifted. Then we rebooted. Now, it seems that we're re-drifting. Her daughter produced a grandchild, which is fine, even though I have fairly strong (surprisingly conservative) views on this. Actually, let me explain. I have no problem with single mothers. Stuff happens. I do have a problem if, when you're of an age to actually support yourself and perhaps the child you produce, you summarily decide that your mother can raise the kid. And I have a truly large problem with said mother, after herself having a mini-stroke, saying to me, "Oh, they're living here rent-free, she's not working, we're paying for the lawyer for the daddy to pay support, and yeah, we babysit a lot because, you know, Sally needs her social and recreation time." 

No. She doesn't. OK, every parent, to the best of their ability, needs a break. But dumping the kid on your mom every single weekend isn't a break. It's obnoxiously annoying and depriving your mother of a life of her own. 

Now, perhaps the friend LIKES this. She's (in my opinion) lived vicariously through her kids ever since they've been born, cloaking it in "being an involved mother." And perhaps I'm looking at it from my own standpoint of "the kid (daughter) is nearly 30 and maybe she needed to take responsibility BEFORE there was a baby." Or maybe, as my kids have told me, I'm looking at it from the lens of how I raised them: "I will do my utmost to support you in whatever you choose, but I raised you, and barring a medical issue, I'm not planning to raise your kids." Yep. That's what I told my kids. And no, my kids don't hate me for saying that. They kinda like the clear communication. 

Anyway, the OBPA is because I'm really seriously thinking of terminating the friendship - for a number of reasons, including the fact that she doesn't call till she needs something from me, and when I call, there are vague "Oh yeah, we need to get together sometime" mutterings. But there's no time or effort in this friendship anymore. 

The OBPA is for the grandbaby. Every year. I'm the geeky one who brings books. No electronics and no toys. Books have an on/off switch. And they have bright colors and pictures. And I love books. So there. 

In truth, one part of me is sad about how this relationship has devolved, but the other part is actually kind of relieved. It's too much work to resuscitate something that's not willing to breathe on its own. We have, over the past few years, only been able to get together at Christmas Eve - an open house at her place. We used to get together for walks in the neighborhood (hers or mine), shopping jaunts, lunch on each one's birthday. The annual girls' weekend away. Random but regular phone calls. Each one of us initiated these things more or less equally. The work of the friendship was shared. 

Yes, I know, friendships change. But I'm of two minds here. This person has known me longer than anyone else except my immediate family. But I really don't want a 90/10 friendship. It would be different if it was a fluctuating division: you all know there are situations where every friendship waxes and wanes. Times when YOU feel like you're carrying the load and then other times when you NEED to be carried. 

But this is just so much less. At one point, we were communicating through e-mail, but "I can't do that anymore because Georgie is always with us and he likes to pound on the keyboard when I'm at the computer." Notwithstanding the fact that the kid needs to learn how and when he can "pound on a keyboard" --- there's the issue of when it's ok for you to have an adult friendship of your own. She has a habit of whining that she's got no friends.

Well, it happens when you don't participate. And I don't know what to do with this. I guess we'll have to see what develops today. There were, to paraphrase Simon & Garfunkel "mumbled such-are promises" of getting together prior to this party, but nothing happened except a short text exchange. That's not a friendship. That's an energy-sucking relationship.

Soooooooooooo.... We shall see, I guess.  

New Prince George...

Congratulations to Will & Kate. Now, can we please learn some basic biology? The female (yes, FEMALE) British correspondents were announcing breathlessly that Kate was "FABULOUS" for birthing a boy. 

This is, I believe, 2013, though some of our more regressive conservative politicians would have us believe that it's actually 1813 as far as women go. But I digress.

Biology 101, courtesy of Sister Faith at my high school: The MALE determines the gender of the fetus. 

Just pointing that out. Now you may resume gazing at the adorable baby pics. And please stop bashing Kate because she "hasn't lost the baby bump." Good God... She's all of 105 pounds and delivered an 8 pound+ baby. It took 9 months to grow that bump. Leave her alone.