I Tried...

...to come up with something eloquent and original to say about Robin Williams. And I've failed. Indeed, perhaps the most eloquent tribute to this man came from his daughter, Zelda. Find it here. And read it. She's a stunningly clear-eyed young woman. 

I can, however, say that I was shocked to find that he was in the early stages of Parkinson's Disease. My FIL died from that disease. It's a bugger. My FIL was a musician, mechanic, raconteur.... And Parkinson's stole that from him. I don't know what makes a person have this disease or not. The doc speculates that FIL was exposed to a lot of heavy metals. He was in the Army Air Corps way, WAYYYYYYYYY before OSHA and any reasonable safety standards. He worked around heavy machinery and aircraft all his life. Was on the Pipeline for years. Toxins abound in those arenas. 

But no real answer to the "is it genetic?" question. Believe me, I asked. 

For a person who's prone to depression and whose mental state is precarious - or not even precarious, but perhaps not necessarily (why am I having such a hard time formulating this sentence???).... Let's try again.

For a person who's in a fragile mental state, a disease like Parkinson's is truly something that shakes your already shaky core. It's a horrible, HORRIBLE disease. And while there are great strides being made, most people who have this will die a nasty death. 

My FIL was one of the lucky ones. He took a nap and never woke up. Seriously, no ill-timed jokes here. He was in the nursing home. The doc had just been to visit. He was going to have dinner, and it was about a half hour or so prior to the trays being brought. He was napping. And thankfully, he just slipped away. It was a peaceful death. 

I don't know much about living with a terminal condition - other than watching others do it. But I can honestly say that I think I can imagine the angst and the fear. 

And maybe that was just "one more thing" too much for Robin Williams. Thanks to The Internets, his memory will remain eternal.

Health...

Speaking of "conditions" - my labs came back. Urgh. I am definitely anemic. "Normal" iron levels are around 35 - 119... Mine is 19. The nurse says, "You must be weak and tired." Well, tired, yes. Weak? Not so much. 

Sooooooo - doc says 325 mg of ferrous iron supplements THREE TIMES A DAY. Not gonna happen. Let's just say, to be polite, that that much iron will turn me into an INCREDIBLY crabby woman. Particularly due to the effects that'll have on my digestive system. 

So I found a supplement at the natural foods store, that they say is "not constipating" (there - I said it). And I'm taking Vitamin B supplements. 

And I guess I'd better learn to make liver... I have it in the freezer. But it was set aside for the dogs. Luckily, I now have permission to eat dried fruits like prunes (which I really do like, by the way). 

We shall see how this all turns out. It does make me wonder what's underneath all of this. Iron deficiency can be the cause of irregular heartbeat. So was all this heart stuff "fixable" by adding more iron? Or did they find the anemia because of fixing my heart?

It's a puzzlement. 

Knitting...

Yes, it's Teal Sock #2. And yes, my system of "knit on this awhile till you can truthfully say you've made progress" is working. I have about 2" to go till I can start the toe decreases. 

The Fluro sock is still in the realm of "gusset decreases" and the baby blanket is coming along. The "ladders" aren't as bad, but it is, after all, 100% cotton, so there's no fudging this one! I'm hoping the added ruffle cancels out some sins. 

I got word from Jimmy Bean's that the rest of the yarn is in transit. Then, I can start on booties, then hat, then cardigan -- going from smallest-to-largest project. 

Oh, and my LYS just FB'd that there's MORE of the Opal "Little Prince" colorway. You're killing me, Kelly!!!

Raisa...

Well. I'll be dipped... She did it! Hubby and Raisa made it through Advanced Obedience. Next week is the CGC. Sometime in there, I have to go to the AKC and register her as a PALS dog. That's a pure-bred dog without papers. We did it for the Elkhounds, so we're doing it for her. 

At some point, I'll go forward with the TDI test. But I think at 11 months old, it has strong "disaster potential" and I'm toying with whether I should wait or not. 

I can tell you one thing. She's not going to stand for "dress-up" like Tippi does. She's not liking the hat, and the last headband I tried to get her to wear? It almost got eaten. 

But I can see that, as she gets older, and a bit calmer, she will do well in therapy work. She just has to mature a bit. And we're not in a rush. Tippi's only 7 - we have a long time till we have to worry about a trade-off of dogs. Actually, with Raisa, the longer we wait, the better it'll be anyway. I can take the time to socialize her a bit more and get her used to my handling her. We've had complications what with my recuperation, etc. so I haven't been handling her as much. I need to get her to take walks at MY pace and get used to MY style. It's all a work in progress. 

I'm sure it'll happen, and I'm sure she'll be fine. I'm also sure that the first several walks will be ... interesting. 

She views walks as a time to catch deer and play around. Not on my watch, thanks! But she'll get used to it. She's a very smart cookie. Right now, it's covered in puppy-stupid, but it's there. If you watch. 

And there are days you NEED to watch, because that mind does NOT stop whirling!

Art...

So here's the story to match the picture: River Weaving -- I've been wanting to get a picture of this, so finally Hubby and I stopped before church to grab a shot. 

It's not Native American fishing devices. It's not an anti-pollution device (though it does catch a lot of stuff that's floating by). It's nothing functional, folks. It's art. And it's cool. It's just sitting there, for the most part, and it's just "being." And in our daily 24/7 lives, with so much "connectivity" and always being "plugged in" -- well, this is unplugged at its finest. 

Come down, find a bench, sit and watch the ducks. Shut your phone off. Enjoy. Yes, you'll hear traffic, but buy yourself an ice cream cone and sit and contemplate the canal, the ducks, the weather. Just "be." 

Like art. 

Random Picture...

And then there's "Not Art"...

Really??

From the sublime to the ridiculous, right? Had to laugh because two FB friends are having an "ick" war. One keeps posting these antique ads, showing "fine dining" and munchies from the 60s and 70s (auuuuuuuuuughhhhh - antique???). These things include the finer points of spam on toast, ham with fruit cocktail (yeah, that picture), etc. 

Yessirreeeee... Those folks in the swinging 60s sure ate a lot of crap. Jello with stuff floating in it like shrimp and apple slices. All kinds of cakes, Bisquick casseroles, a jelly ring with cucumber slices for dipping?? Ick. I don't know. But it's gross. 

Lunchbox

So anyhow, MA has been grossing out D and I - so I just had to have Hubby take a picture of a gag gift he got this past Christmas. 

See, he's in computers. Spam. Get it?? Well, apparently, our friend thought it was funny. Hubby, a practical sort of guy, is kind of "Huh???" but I think this is cute... And now MA has to have it. And she can't - ha ha! The only thing missing is the thermos. 

Nick & Steve...

Yesterday, at church, something totally cool happened. As you may remember, Hubby and I changed over to the Episcopal Church - for a variety of reasons, which I'll someday enumerate, but suffice to say that we had had it with the Roman Catholic Church, just about the time they started telling the nuns how to do their jobs...

Anyway, our organist, Tom, has been sick, so last week we had a "said service" with no songs. This week, there were 7 of us - which was most of the choir - and we thought we could muddle through most of it a capella. 

I looked in our service bulletin and saw what I thought was a baptism. Nope. Well, yes, but MORE. We had a "Blessing of the Adoption" AND a baptism. 

We have a lot of lovely families in our church, and as usual, everyone's baby-crazy. From Fr. Matt's youngest, to the most adorable Emma who sits and gurgles at the choir, to Oliver. 

And yesterday was Oliver's day. His dads, Nick & Steve, had their whole family in the pews to celebrate, with us - their faith community - the adoption of Oliver and his baptism into the church. 

In the RC church, to my knowledge, we never had a "Blessing of the Adoption." Well, RCs usually are good at keeping things in the closet, so I didn't ever expect such a thing. At St. John's, we blessed the adoption. That was the segment before the actual baptism. 

At the baptism, Fr. Matt invited everyone in the pews to gather round the font. He did warn those close that they were likely to get wet! And when it came time for the actual baptism, Oliver, good baby that he is, gurgled and kicked his feet. Not a peep as Fr. Matt poured water over his head 3 times, baptizing him. 

We sang a beautiful hymn for the baptism, and we did a lovely 4-part hymn in Latin for Communion. And at Communion -- Every. Single. Person.... Each one came up to a beaming Nick, Steve, and Oliver, and chucked Oliver under the chin and congratulated Nick and Steve for adopting Oliver and bringing him into our faith community. All three of them just glowed with happiness.

Maybe an over-used word. But here it is: Awesome. Awesome how we embrace everyone. Every. One. No matter who you are. All are truly welcome at St. John's. That's what makes us such a mighty community. Not large, but definitely mighty. 

And This Makes Sense How??...

So this happened:  Looting after a shooting. 

I'm having a concept problem here. I'm hoping that the comment by a resident of Ferguson, MO is correct: That (sadly) these were outside agitators who took advantage of the community's sorrow. During a candlelight vigil for a shooting victim (investigation ongoing), there were incidents of looting, stealing from a cash store, a cell phone store, and a tire rim place. There were also people taunting the cops -- standing atop the squad cars. 

I mean REALLY? Seriously? 

The community came together to mourn a victim. Who did what to whom and when is currently under investigation, so we won't even get into that now. Because all the facts aren't being reported to us and they're still investigating. Best not to theorize prior to the facts. 

But the basic sociological trend of looting in response to violence by cops? What kind of sense does that make? Because I'll tell you now that this just reinforces stereotypes. "Look at those animals." 

Right or wrong, that's what's running through a LOT of peoples' heads today. I know all the arguments: the cops are armed to the teeth. The cops are too violent and haven't been adequately screened and/or trained. The community has no respect for authority. The poor are desperate.

Ok. Fine. That's not without merit on a number of levels. 

But really...How would MLK have handled this? How would Gandhi have handled this? How is this a good way to resolve these kinds of community issues? 

Yes. We have an enormously unequal society. Both racially and economically. And the divide hasn't been this big in a long, long time. Sad to say that in 2014, we're no better than during the times of slavery, when a small percentage of the rich held all the money and the rest of the population either worked for them or belonged to them. 

But it's how we face up to this and how we make the system change that will be our legacy. Do we do it by this kind of criminal behavior? Does that make us "better" than those who responsible for the shift in power and wealth? 

I don't think so. The community of Ferguson came together for a vigil. Now, whether it was outsiders or not, LOOTING IS NOT THE ANSWER. No matter what the question. 

The Silence...

Yesterday, in the Chicago Tribune, John Kass wrote about his twins going off to college and leaving him and his wife as empty-nesters. I've corresponded with him off and on, and spoken to him over the phone. And his column resonated with me. So this is what I sent him yesterday via e-mail. 

Dear John:

It’s the silence that gets you. The silence and the sudden space.

I read your column this morning and you encapsulated what I’ve been writing about for the past few weeks. You see, we too are empty-nesters (albeit a bit more suddenly), and like you – I’m not buying the “freedom” song.

Our turn came on with a confluence of other events: I had an atrial ablation procedure that rendered me in “recuperation” mode; The Kid had to move because he obtained a teaching gig about 50 miles from the house and Fall Semester is upon us; Older Kid has been gone for a little over 5 years now.

See, the plan was that Kid #2 would move out eventually. He was teaching at a local school, and he planned on buying a house somewhere in the neighborhood. Instead, this opportunity presented itself, and before I was out of the hospital, he was ready to go.

It’s the silence.

Nobody playing random riffs on the bass guitar. Nobody laughing on the cell phone. Nobody playing with the dogs. Neither kid would qualify as a “big talker” – being boys, they’re inherently more quiet than girls are. But once you wound them up, then just sit back and enjoy the conversation. Older Kid is a welder. Kid #2 is an English teacher. Both of them are brilliant (ahem, I think so, and so they are!) and can converse on a variety of topics from “the state of the music industry” to literature, to politics, to sports. And both have pretty strong opinions.

Nobody comes home late at night; the dogs feel a bit bereft of their duty to guard the house. Nobody really “needs” dinner. Nobody asks your opinion. Nobody needs to borrow your guitar or your reference book, or ask you how to do something.

And as for that whole “reconnect as a couple” thing? Well…I’m not sure about that. Hubby works from home. I work at a local university. We notice that it’s a lot quieter because neither of us are big talkers either…And after dealing with people all day, the quiet is our “recharge” time. Like you, we’re not going to be taking art lessons or ballroom dancing lessons. We’re not even big “go out to dinner” folks.

But it’s that “other” silence. That’s the one that gives you pause.

Kids take up a tremendous amount of real estate. Not only the physical kind. Not only because of their stuff. But because of what they bring – and take – emotionally. Verbally. Dimensionally on many planes. And now, that’s gone. It’s us and the dogs.

I realize 50 miles is a piffle. Other families have sons and daughters continents away, whether for education, work or, God help us – war. My own mother-in-law has a daughter doing mission work in the mountains of Peru.

And maybe it’s because it’s the youngest one who’s gone. Maybe it’s because it was, in my opinion, pretty quick. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to face the empty nest, in spite of years of proclaiming, “You raise ‘em to let ‘em go.” And I truly believe that. But still.

It’s the silence. And the space. 

Knitting...

Worked at my new system for a bit yesterday. I knitted about 8 rows on The Teal Sock. Then I worked on the Fluro sock for a while. Still haven't tackled the afghan, and I have to get on that ASAP.

I was kind of hoping, though I knew differently from the order I placed with Jimmy Beans, that I could start small and work up. I wanted to do the booties, then the hat, then the cardigan and THEN the blankie. Oh well... 

Anyway, in with the knitting, we did this.

Canning...

We are officially pickled out. Well, the vines are still producing, but we're now overrun with pickles. Yesterday we did 21 pints of Bread & Butter pickles, and 15 pints of Hamburger Dill Chips. 

Cucumber overload!

This is what it looked like: 

We got 16 lbs. of cucumbers off the last picking. Yes. SIXTEEN pounds. So Hubby ordered them roughly by size, and grouped them on the table. 

Then he went out to buy onions. I must say, the Ball Blue Book, usually my bible in all things canning, has a strange proportion in regard to Bread & Butter pickles. There seemed to be a LOT of onions in ratio to the pickles we were using. Hubby went by weight, though, and so off I went while he took Raisa to training. 

Prep

Oh, I learned how to operate our food processor. Scoff. Go ahead. My idea of a "food processor" is a good set of knives and a cutting board, but I succumbed to technology when it came to cutting up pound after pound of cucumbers and onions. 

So I got the totes ready. It's layering the cukes, onions and salt and then using ice cubes over the top for about 90 minutes each batch. 

This would have been a good time to have an ice maker... But I digress. I set the batches to marinating and went back to the Carole Lombard movie marathon and my knitting. 

Marinate

While off topic, it's worth mentioning that it's tragic that Ms. Lombard was killed so young. Her talent was amazing and it was a lovely way to while away an afternoon since the weather wasn't cooperating and I couldn't get outside -- unless I wanted to be rained on. 

After the time expires, you drain them, rinse them and drain again. And then you assemble the liquid in a large pot. Bring it to a boil and then dump in your veggies. 

That has to come back up to a boil and then you're ready to stuff the jars and plop them in the boiling water bath.

I wasn't sure yesterday whether it would have been an advantage to open the house up. While it was around 70* outside, it was beastly humid what with the rain. We had fans running and the A/C was on. But it was still a steam bath in the kitchen. 

The first batch cooked up fine, but we were short on liquid. Again, following the recipe, it almost seemed like "Pickled Onions with a Few Cucumbers Tossed In" and we were DEFINITELY short on liquid. But it was all weighed out, so it had to be reasonably accurate.

Bread & Butter cooking

Lucky for us, I had set aside and canned some of the liquid from a previous batch. It was similar enough so that it wouldn't totally confuse the pickles. So we tossed a couple of half-pint jars of that into the first batch. 

Hubby came home during the finish of that and helped with the second batch. We adjusted the vinegar and sugar for that batch so that we did have a little more liquid, but even with weighing out stuff, we had much more than the 7 pints the recipe called for. 

Cooling off

While we had the kitchen heated up and in chaos, we figured we'd finish off the second round of the pickles. We had intended to do a "garlic" variety of Bread & Butter, but I found a Hamburger Dill Chip recipe in Ball which would take far less time. And no onions.

So I guess I can make more Vidalia Onion Conserve this week. 

For the Dill Chips, we couldn't use the processor because our slice-thingie was too thin. They needed to be 1/4" so Hubby did the cutting. On the bias, even! So fancy! Only wish I had a "ruffled" slicer. 

For the Dill Chips, you pack the slices into the jar, add the spices, and then you ladle in the liquid. We did essentially a double batch, though we went over by 1 jar. And we sadly had a TON of the pickling liquid left. We did discard that, though. And the waste annoyed me. I should, if I do this again, go one-and-a-half times instead of a double batch. 

I was able to use dried dill. Our dill in the garden went pfffffffffthhhhhhh and the butterflies and bees enjoyed it. I have to time the growing better - needs to coincide with the proliferation of pickles in our patch. 

Dill chips prep

So I fiddled with the recipe (no surprise there), adding more peppercorns than called for. If you're interested, it's about 1/4 teaspoon of dried dill to equal one head of dill. 

Since I'm such a Pickle Pro, let me proffer a product for your perusal. It's Heinz Pickle Perfect apple cider vinegar. It's a nice apple cider vinegar perfect for just about any kind of pickling and any oil & vinegar recipe you'd like to try. Nice tang. Crisp taste. 

Anyway, the brine for these dill chips was 50/50 water and vinegar. The only bad thing about the bias cut is that you have to be careful how you stack them in the jar. But Hubby is a big puzzle guy, so this was the perfect task for him. 

We were on a "10 minute boil" roll for the Bread & Butter, but Dills done in this fashion (where the pickle part is raw and the brine is hot) need a little more, so that was a 15-minute boil. In 2 batches, we were done. 

As they cooled, you could feel the heat radiating. 

Here are our finished products... A sight to behold, and we've already been asked, "Do you ship??" My siblings are lining up with their hands open for any of the varieties we have ready to go.

These have to sit for a month for everything to fully develop. Hubby is designing labels today and we'll be ready to go. 

Dill chips done

Bread & Butter done

We really do love to do this. In spite of the grumbling, it's fun to see your creativity come alive. And it's been a great garden year, too, so we may as well take advantage of it. 

Hubby has been muttering about ripping out the vines, but we figure we see at least a dozen more pickles developing, along with at least 2 dozen more blossoms. 

I would just start handing out cucumbers, but these are mixed up. We didn't differentiate between the salad cukes and the pickling cukes enough... Now, when we do this 5 years from now (!) we will know that one variety has to go in one bed and the other variety has to be completely opposite. We thought we'd remember which was which, but honestly, after they grew like kudzu, we couldn't tell where one variety began and the other ended. 

I almost wish the tomatoes were that prolific. But it looks like there may be enough for green tomato relish. Or my friend Doris will take the green ones... she likes fried green tomatoes. 

Random Picture...

Because everyone sits on the couch this way. Of course. 

Isn't this how you sit on the couch?

I'm in doo-doo with our trainer! I've had to skip a couple of classes because of the heart thing and Raisa is almost ready to attempt her CGC. Which, I'm sorry -- I think she'll likely fail. 

Not that she's dim. Though she is. Sort of. But she's still a puppy. And a SIBERIAN HUSKY puppy. They don't get smart (a/k/a "stop acting like a lunatic") till they're a lot older. 

Anyway, this was a shot I captured when she and Kid #2 were playing with her bone. 

By the way, if she's in the mood to play, she will toss the bone at you. And she usually hits what she's aiming at. 

Nothing says "Love you" like being clocked by a slimy rubber Kong bone. 

On "Old"...

Wasn't sure if I was going to entitle this "Growing Old" or "Getting Old" or some permutation thereof, but I guess "Old" covers it.

Old...

So as you know, we're empty-nesters now. It happened quite suddenly (at least to me, and I knew it was coming), over the time I was recovering from the atrial ablation. Kid #2 is gone. 

And you realize, after they leave...just how much SPACE kids take up. Not only the physical space. But the emotional space, the verbal space, the space of just knowing at night that eventually, all your "little chickies" will be in their nests. 

It's been hitting me in waves ever since. I mean, yeah - I knew it was inevitable, and not just for the "he's getting older" thing: Hubby's one sister didn't leave home till she was 42. Yes, forty-two years old. 

Kid #2 just got a job 50 miles away from the house. And as a teacher, you've got to be there at something like 7 a.m. - there's no way anyone with any sense would NOT move closer so that you wouldn't have a potential 2-hour commute both ways. That's just insane. I mean, had he still had the teaching gig closer to home, he'd have moved sometime this year anyway - but it would most likely have been within the neighborhood. 

Fifty miles is a long way, particularly since the job is in the middle of "corn-country" and the commute for the winter would be a real bugger. Go ahead; snicker. I know there are people -- including my MIL -- who've got kids a COUNTRY away. And yes, I'm perfectly aware that he could very well be in Afghanistan or one of the other places we're at war with (whether legitimately or not, but that's another topic for another day). 

So last night -- or rightly, this morning, about 3 a.m. -- the side light goes on. It's on a motion-sensor. Tippi wakes up and starts woofing. She toddles her wide self out to the kitchen and starts woofing at the back door, most likely expecting Kid #2 to roll in. But nobody's there. So either the neighbor was out back with his dogs or something was climbing in the trees next to the house that would set off the motion sensor. She finally decided that nobody was coming in and walked back to her sleeping spot: right in front of the bathroom door. 

It's stuff like that - it hits you that no, you really have no idea where EITHER kid is. Kid #1 has been gone for a number of years; he's now settled in with the GF and they couldn't be happier. Oh, and my VERY fat grand-cat Larry... Come to think of it, I should have taken a picture of her when we were there for dinner on his b-day. Dang. Larry's sweet. And huge. Trust me. Huge. 

I have to think about why I'm more OK with Kid #1 being "out in the world" and why it's bothering me a bit more that Kid #2 is now gone. Maybe it's that he's the "baby" of the family. Maybe because ... well, I don't know. Other than him being the youngest, I shouldn't be affected; at least I don't think so. My brother has been an empty-nester for a while now because his oldest is now married (he's younger than both of mine) and the youngest is away at college. My sister still has one chickie in the nest because Nephew J is still at home. Her oldest is the parent of K and The Twins. So she's not shed of kids, but is the first of us to be a Granny... 

And then I got word from my mom that a young lady I used to babysit for is expecting her first child. She's older - about 4 years older than Kid #1, so it's kind of a "wow" - we never expected that she'd even have kids. 

I decided to knit a layette for her to bring the baby home. But it hit me that I was really in sort of a unique spot. 

Old School

Kid #1 started the lament on the weekend of his birthday. He's teaching his goddaughter guitar, and she wanted a place to keep her picks. He said, "Go get a film canister and that will work well." She says, "What's a film canister?" In case you are also wondering: these are them. Kid #1 says, "Oh mannnnnnnnnnnn." Then I tell him about the new baby and he says, "Well, ok. You ARE old." Thanks. Snot.

Anyway, I'm adjusting to the new configuration of the house and it's been weird. Hubby seems to be adjusting better than I am, but I do think that the moms have it a bit harder. 

It hasn't really changed many of our habits. It'll put a crimp in some of them, to be sure, because we'll have lost our live-in dog-sitting service. 

And really, he's not all the way out yet. He's still got laundry here...

Knitting...

So this is the start of the layette. It's from "itty-bitty nursery" by Susan B. Anderson (I wanted to type "Anthony"...). It's the "Pure and Simple Layette" -- specifically designed for bringing a newborn home, and then if you're really crafty, you'd put the cardigan, booties and hat into a shadowbox frame for perpetuity. 

Pure & Simple Layette - Afghan part only

I just looked, and there are no images for the layette. It's a ruffled blanket, which will be done in this color. And I'm waiting on the rest of the order, in Atlantic (a slightly bolder blue) for the cardigan, hat and booties. I'm using Rowan Hand Knit Cotton. This is "Cloud." I got it at Jimmy Beans Wool and I also got the Kollage needles. 

And this was frogged yesterday. I didn't realize that, while I love the "hand" of the cotton, I'm NOT loving the lack of stretch. This is 100% cotton, and I had ladders in my blanket. Bummer. 

Anyway, the blanket is small-ish - 28" square in basket-weave. And then you do a 4 or 5 row ruffle that you knit on after you do the main part. The cardigan and hat have some embroidery on it - done in the same yarn, so it's really subtle. I love the "Bleach" color they had in the book, but since we know it's a boy, I figured a blue set would be lovely. Once the Atlantic color comes in, I'll start from the booties up. 

In the meantime, I'll cast this thing back on and see what happens. And I'm plugging away on the Fluro sock. I'm a few rows shy of being able to turn the heel, which I'll likely do at work today. 

I've set aside the "Super Simple Go-To Layette" -- and you'd think I'd just whip that one out, right? Well, I have a couple of categories of "The People for Whom I Knit" and this gal is in the "buy special yarn" category. The Super Simple is in an acrylic, so I'd rather do this cotton one for her. They live in NC, so I think wool would be a little much. And honestly, with this being a newborn size, I don't know how long he'll even wear the clothing. The blankie is one he can hold onto till the thing falls apart. If I can get past the ladders as you switch back and forth from K to P on the pattern... Urgh.

Canning...

Conserve

Yesterday, I got a bug in my rear end and wanted to go visit the new Mariano's store near where I work. Aside from sensory overload and Hubby going his usual 100 mph in the store, I can see that this will be interesting. Mariano's bought a bunch of old Dominick's stores here. 

So in terms of canning, I needed onions for the newest batch of Bread & Butter pickles, and I was looking through the new canning book. I came across Vidalia Onion Conserve. For the uninitiated, a "conserve" is a sort of spread. It's usually a mash-up of things, like the recipe next to this one: Blueberry Pecan Conserve. It's not quite a jelly and not as stiff as a preserve. 

This one, which you see in the pan, is actually EIGHT CUPS of sliced Vidalias, along with maple syrup, marjoram from my garden (didn't have thyme like they wanted, but this is close enough), pepper, and at the finish, some vinegar. The way they suggest to serve this is in a puff pastry, like a small tart, with goat cheese. 

You'd think we'd have what? Six or seven jars, right? Nope. Three. Half-pints. Yep, you read that right. I will likely do this again because aside from the fact that their calculation for the cooking off of liquid is somewhat wildly wrong, it smelled heavenly and it's one of those "wow" kinds of gifts. The recipe actually called for smaller jars, but I was unable to find anything smaller than the 1/2-pint ones. Which is the other reason the yield was skimpy. 

The garden is still producing madly, though we're not sure how many more cukes are actually going to have time to grow. Who knows? At this rate, we MAY have enough for a batch of gherkins. And we still have sage and parsley coming in. And carrots. 

Reading...

Plowing my way back through Jane Eyre and also through Rod Stryker's The Four Desires. Not sure whether I'll actually participate in the yoga class' reading club, since I'm the one farthest away from all the action, but I'll read the books, if they interest me. 

I'm also reading more about different practices in terms of what I want to teach my students. At this point, they're still in "I need the stretch" mode, and I don't know if or when they'll get to "I want to learn more about the philosophy" -- and if they don't, that's fine with me. I still slip it in there every so often. 

Otherwise, it's still the newspaper. I see our local paper is advertising for stringers, but Hubby and I decided that for this year, since I'm president of our local free clinic's board and there's upheaval like you wouldn't believe... I just need to sit still and think on what I want to do. I've struck a moratorium on doing anything more just now. 

Random Picture...

It's my nook. My chair (occasionally occupied by Raisa if there's something interesting at the window), my favorite mug, and my sock. 

Knitting Nook

Like Virginia Woolf said, a woman needs a room of her own (rough, ROUGH paraphrase!). And while this quote of hers actually touched on the societal expectation that women were dependent upon husbands and had no resources of their own, and they were tied to housework and unable to really do much exercising of their own creativity muscle, I'm taking it at its most literal and indicating that I need space of my own. It's important to have that space. Woolf thought so too, though for a different reason. Her quest was to have the room AND the money to be able to write fiction. Her quote has to do with the importance of women's work. And women's work IS very important. 

But so is down-time and the requirement for space for our own internal life as well. 

When I took over Kid #1's room, it was to be my office and yoga room. Well. Not so much. It became the family "dumping ground" for stuff that had to be stashed. Now, I couldn't even roll out a mat in there. Hubby has his massage table in there. I've got totes of things that just accumulated. The crowding in that room has actually impeded my own creative process. 

I'm planning what I want to do for Kid #2's room. He'd like to leave his bed in there, but I'd like to get it out of there so the massage table can go there. We have an air mattress in the event we actually have an overnight guest who's not terrified of our dogs! And I'd like to put our big maple rocking chair in there, with a little throw rug. 

But for knitting, I just need a nook. A little space where I can be "in" the family, but all the while, doing my thing with sticks and string. 

Wow -- 400!!!

Just as I zipped on over here, I see by the stats that I've got 400 posts on this blog already. 

Wow. For the folks that follow me, please feel free to share away -- most of us who write are kind of inherently a bit "full of ourselves" and we like it when other people read our stuff. It's a creative thing, I suppose. 

Keeping a Secret...

Well, I shouldn't have been keeping this a secret. Here's one of the coolest Etsy stores. I was introduced to these bags through a Facebook group, Addicted to Sock Knitting. I'm in the category of "mildly addicted," I think. There are folks in this group who can knit a pair of socks in a couple of days. 

Whew. 

Drawstring bag

Anyway... meet Chicken Soup Designs. Carrie makes some seriously adorable and useful bags. I'm telling you: if you have an interest, she's got a fabric she can whip into a bag for you. Here's just ONE of the bags I have - the puppy print. I have the rose bag (which I won in one of Carrie's frequent drawings), and I have a set of the tea-print - but those are in stash because they're destined for Christmas gifts. Oh, and I pre-ordered the Dr. Who bag set. And ordered the knitting sheep.

I'm telling you: knitting sheep AND Dr. Who??? Who can resist? Not me, obviously. I love the drawstring bags for portable projects. They've got a square bottom so they sit nicely, and they're nicely lined. The drawstring is nice and sturdy, too. She also has matching stitch-marker keepers, too. They beat my current system of grabbing a big zipper bag! 

Anyway, go check her out. You'll love what you see. I guarantee it. 

Knitting...

Heel detail

As long as we're on the topic. The week off for recuperation from surgery brought with it knitting, but I really didn't get to this sock till I was feeling more human. 

This is the heel detail. One of my instructors just came in to admire them, and she wants to learn how to make socks. I can teach her!! As long as she wants to learn with DPNs, that is. 

I think I'm going to adopt a strategy to deal with The Dreaded Teal Sock. I will knit a few rows on that (though I'm not carrying it to work today, because I just decided this) and then reward myself with something I really do want to work on. I'm so sad that the Teal Socks have become jinxed. If I wasn't so sick of the yarn, I'd frog the first one and start over on both of them, but I just don't have the energy to do that. I just want to plod on through and get the second one done. Done. And DONE.

New stash

And you see my most recent stash acquisition... Yep. That certainly IS Trekking XXL in the upper left corner there. I've learned, though. I have to use smaller needles (probably size 1; Teal is on 2.5, I think). And this is actually a very pretty color, so I might do something not-so-plain, but definitely NOT the Nice Ribbed Sock pattern. No offense to the pattern, but like I said: Teal has encompassed me in such dread. 

I think the only thing worse will be if they don't fit me. Because of my own idiocy, the heels don't match (note to self: NOTES TO SELF are helpful!!), and so I can't even give them away. 

That Fluro in the upper right, Ocean, I think, will be in the Hermione sock pattern. It's a free download on Ravelry, so if you are a knitter and NOT a Ravelry member (and how could THAT be???), get on over there and join up. 

Now that I see how the Fluro works, I think I can be a bit more adventurous with the patterns on the leg. So maybe that lime-and-yellow in the middle will be a swirl rib with a plain foot. Even knitting this at 72 stitches (which my knitting friends gasp at) -- I've got plenty of yarn so I could make the swirl ribbed leg a bit longer than I did with the Madeline Tosh Robin's Nest. 

So many projects... But I have a job. 

If anyone's interested in Harry Potter projects, here's a link. I'll definitely be doing the Deathly Hallows hat. I loved it when I saw the movie. And I need another hat. 

Recovery, and Lunch...

Like I think I mentioned, I've been diagnosed as anemic. Joy. So I have to eat more protein, and the doc just called. I have to have labs way earlier. 

Here's the low-down. I was diagnosed by the cardiologist; called my primary care guy. My physical was initially set for the end of Sept. and then 2 things happened at once. I had to change the appointment and the nurse wanted to talk to me about the anemia thingie. 

The "earliest available" appointment is 10/6/14.... He said that he wanted to see me "earliest" and I told her that October was apparently what it was going to be.

Well... not so much. I have to go get the labs on Monday, pick up a test kit for fecal occult (yeah, poo test) and then I'll get a call back to see if "earliest" is actually earlier than October. 

I was wondering why my sister was freaking out about it. I suppose I should Google "anemia" to see what's going on, but actually, aside from being tired from the surgery, I'm not showing any other symptoms. And it's normal to be tired from the surgery. 

Eating more protein is turning out to be a chore. I don't like meat much. I have no philosophical differences with eating meat. I do try to buy locally farmed stuff as much as I can, and I don't like the factory farms; and ethically I am not jazzed about the cruelty that goes into "Big Farm." But I just don't like meat a lot. It's heavy. Makes me feel sluggish. 

But this is apparently more serious than I think, since yesterday she was saying, "I don't think he'll want to transfuse you unless you drop below 8."  What? 

What??? 

Ummmmmmmm. Guess I'll eat more spinach, beans and yeah - beef. 

Speaking of which, this was lunch. Spinach, baby kale and arugula blend, mushrooms, a quarter of a chicken breast, cucumber from the garden and the avocado dressing I made the other day. Oh, and raw pumpkin seeds.

And I couldn't finish it. I ate most of it. Ate the mushrooms, cukes and chicken. But I am just full. 

The nursing instructor here today suggested that I eat garbanzo beans. I love garbanzo beans. I can do that. Will keep you posted on that. Anyone out there with experience in anemia, holler. I probably would make myself frantic if I did a Google search. 

The Garden...

Pickling continues. We've got 2 batches of Sweet Pickle Chips under our belts. There will be more this weekend. I'm thinking that since Bread & Butter need to be sliced, we could perhaps beef up that stock. 

Our friend Bill just had a knee replacement. I think a Pickle Basket is a good get-well gift!

Pickles make everything better. 

At least that's my story.

I've also picked up a magazine from Better Homes & Gardens with lots of interesting chutney recipes, jams, spreads, etc. 

This preserving of stuff gets addictive. I haven't made jam in a few years, and I'd also like to do more tomato sauce, though I didn't plant the right tomatoes for sauce. 

But I could get some flats of berries and make a mixed-berry preserve. Or a pickled garlic, or a nice onion jam. 

The mind reels. 

Random Picture...

This is slightly doctored. Just cropped, actually. Quinn was napping and I love the way the sun shines through the blinds and makes her striped. 

She was worn out. She and Raisa are mostly at a truce now, and while Raisa plays with Hubby, Quinn will come play with me. They also do play together, but we're still watchful because Raisa is an idiot and doesn't always see when Quinn's had enough. 

She seems to know when Tippi has had enough. And there have been some pretty fearsome-looking "tooth fencing" battles. I can tell when it's just play because both Elkhounds are "snorters." They snort rather loudly as they play.

It's when the snorts turn to a growl that you have to be in a hurry to call a halt to the madness. 

Otherwise, it's a ball of whirling fur and teeth. 

Never a good sign. 

We go back to finish obedience this week. I think Raisa will actually have to repeat Advanced Obedience. She's not anywhere near ready for her CGC. She's still not quite a year yet, and anyone who knows anything about huskies knows that a young husky is just not going to do much but be a gigantic ball of whirling dervish. No way will she do the long stays or even a passable "heel" or "come front." 

No use stressing about it. I think we may have pushed her farther and faster than she was ready for. I know we were used to River-the-Robo-Dog, but I think we're realistic enough to know that Raisa isn't there yet.