How Big is Your Stash

Cable Madness

2012-01-19T00:46:00.000-08:00

But in a good way! This sweater is fun to knit. A couple evenings after this picture was taken ...

... both sleeves were done. And, as long as I had both sizes of needles out, I cast on for the body. The cable chart looks like a football team's secret line of attack, but after the first repeat, it is easy enough that, with the exception of a couple of very busy rows, reading the sweater is almost all you have to do to know what's coming next. Notice that I said "after the first repeat," which is what I had finished, plus about 15 rows more, when I noticed an errant cable. One of the big ones that couldn't be ignored. My reaction? Suffice to say that my dog left the room.

In the interest of setting a good example -- for just who, I don't know -- I decided to dive down and repair it. What did I have to lose? If it didn't work, I'd have to rip back. If I didn't even try, I'd have to rip back.

Technically, the dive-down-and-repair was working, but it looked, well, saggy and nasty. Anyway, the ripout, repair and recovery have disappeared in the rear view,

as has my secret goal of having it finished to take on vacation in a couple of weeks. Yeah, yeah, I know. It wasn't realistic, but man, I wanted to make it happen.

She Likes It. She Really Likes It!*

2012-01-09T10:17:00.000-08:00

This book -- its patterns range from fabulous to you-can't-be-serious -- has been keeping me company for maybe a year, stacked next to The Knitting Chair. So, with the Christmas clock ticking and finding myself a gift short, it was time to get crackin'. I'd seen the "Buttoned Up" knit in some Baby Alpaca Grande Handpaint, and who was I to quibble? Imitation being the best form of flattery -- or lazy thinking, take your pick. I'll own it -- I did the same, but at least struck out and used college girl pink. What a yummy way to spend a couple of evenings! It's nice, nice yarn, so wonderful in the hands and around the neck, I'll be making one for myself, in the burgundy/brown colors.

Consumer tip: The pattern called for a 10.5 needle, but I found it a bit loose, especially after blocking. Will definitely try a 10 the next time.

Consumer tip redux: If your local shop does not have the book any more, it is available here. But please ask at your shop first.

It looked a little limp and sorry as she unwrapped it, so it was amusing to watch her put on her game face and a robo-smile. But it looks pretty genuine now!

* apologies to Sally Field -- OK, not really

He's a Sweet Kitty

2011-12-28T11:35:00.000-08:00

I found a couple of pictures of BoingBoing in my phone the other day. They were taken in the last few months, I couldn't really say when. But I like them, so here they are.

He can be an imp, but he's the sweetest thing since honey. He purrs and squeaks, but doesn't meow, howl or any other usual cat sounds. His best friend is Henry -- they wrestle and chase and ambush each other, it's pretty funny. I only break things up when the dog drags Kitten by the tail.

Yes, he has an odd name. Nothing really seemed to fit, and we didn't want to keep "Lucy" after we confirmed the boy bits. He was spring-loaded when he was small, which is how we got his name. These days, ballast issues may prompt me to change it -- to Thud.

Time Out for Sheep Cuteness

2011-12-06T17:50:00.001-08:00

And, for the curious, this is how they got those sweet lambs to sing ...

Reclaiming my Needles

2011-12-04T10:53:00.000-08:00

Its given name is the Jo Sharp wide collar vest, a project that, according to my Ravelry page, I started in ... 2007! Yes, Henry, that was before you were even born. It soon became known as the project with interminable ribbing.

Also known as too tedious for words and the only justification for a knitting machine. And as of last week ...

It's also known as finished! Kvetching aside, I like this vest a lot. It's warm but not bulky and fits nicely whether belted or not. I hope others like it, too, because they will be seeing it alot.

I have indeed reclaimed my size 6 Addis, which I thought were 5s, which I need to start the body portion of this. I thought briefly of taping together all the 16-inch 5s that aren't busy and make do, but sanity quickly returned and I opted instead to fetch some 7s and make the first sleeve:

Berroco refers to it as Blackstone Tweed, shade 2635, but I call it medium teal -- it reminds me of Jo Sharp Silkroad Aran. I've heard one complaint that it breaks, but I have had no issue with it. I am falling in love.

I haven't decided what to do with the two leftover balls of the Felted Tweed, but I should be able to find something here, don't you think?

P.S. If you're Christmas shopping for your favorite knitter, be sure to read the Yarn Harlot's last few posts. She knows what she's talking about. Just sayin' ...

Hip-Hip Hoofbeats

2011-11-16T21:39:00.000-08:00

This is not your grandmother's dressage freestyle:

Something is Not Right

2011-11-15T13:13:00.000-08:00

I saw this item from the Los Angeles Times. Am I the only one who is disturbed?

Infants and toddlers are spending twice as much time with screen media as they are with books, according to a national study by Common Sense Media.
Forty percent of 2- to 4-year-olds and 52 percent of 5- to 8-year-olds are using smartphones, video iPods, iPads or similar devices, the study found.
Among the study’s other key findings:
• Forty-two percent of children younger than 8 have a television in their bedroom.
• In a typical day, 11 percent of kids up to age 8 use a smartphone, video iPod, iPad or similar device to play games, watch videos or use apps. Those who do such activities spend an average of 43 minutes a day doing so.

Compare and Contrast

2011-11-13T11:47:00.000-08:00

This weekend has been nothing short of miraculously mild for this time of year -- riding outside in shirtsleeves in November? Yes, really. Everyone is talking about it. What I keep thinking about is a year ago this very weekend, when not only was Dr. Denney bird hunting in South Dakota, as he is now, but it was considerably less lovely.

Speaking of less lovely ...

This is what it looks like the third time a Christmas ornament gets frogged. Why? Because the knitter hadn't read fair isle charts with increases/decreases for ... longer than she realized, clearly! After making probably all of the mistakes that can be made on a small globe-like object, it finally got sorted out. Among the five or six of us who chipped in to help get the shop ready for the holidays, this was the result (The hapless tangle is now the rocking horse, just left of center):

Then there's this little odd bit,

which grew up to be this sweater, a shop sample.

Cordial, a cropped little number from Rowan's 50th anniversary magazine. It isn't my favorite color, but it isn't my sweater, either. It's a large, which fits more people than the teensy sweaters that Rowan sends around! It's a Big Wool special, so it knit up quickly, all that seed stitch notwithstanding. I gotta say, though, that several skeins of the Big Wool had a knot in them, one had four! Let's hope it was a fluke bad batch and not an indication of larger problems. I want to keep loving this yarn.

Today's parting shot is, you guessed it, more yarn. Rowan Colourscape, in bracken, found fabulously on sale here on Saturday. Its spotty reputation precedes it, but four skeins came home anyway, which means a return visit for three more. My first impulse is to make this, but I'm open to suggestions!

Not Like This!

2011-11-09T17:07:00.000-08:00

I totally stole this from masondixonknitting. It's very funny. Knitting for muggles:

Welcome, wee John!

2011-11-07T09:06:00.000-08:00

For the new buckeroo, cowboy booties:

Congratulations Holly and Todd! We're thrilled for you!

Wyoming is Still Wonderful

2011-10-21T18:49:00.000-07:00

In case there were any doubts, that is. I can't believe it's been four weeks since we were there (again!), but so it goes. With a third visit under our belts, I noticed a few things: I'm learning my way around the Salt Lake airport, as well as the freeways in and out. The exit at Park City for lunch and groceries? The empty exit that takes us north? Four hours later, the turn off the county road that takes us to the ranch house? Check, check and ... check (grateful for daylight on the last one!).

We spent the first full day riding on the ranch, which was plenty swell. There was alot of sky, alot of grass ...

... and alot of sage.

See that white sliver at the middle-right? That's Kara's house. Yes, We're still on her property:

We had a tagalong that day, a cutie-pie pony, who was energetic enough that he surely put on a couple more miles than we did. He ran way ahead at first, and then thought better of it. I think he was secretly relieved to be haltered and then ponied along for the rest of the trip.:

The heck with Waldo. Where's the moose? Right there in in the scrub -- that smudge of brown and the glint (the paddle of an antler) -- a cow and yearling were to the left of the frame. I'd not seen a moose before, so this was cool.

We worked our way to the top of Merna Butte -- funny how it's always a steeper climb than it looks at the bottom -- I made it handily in no small part to this guy, Big Red.

This is lunch with a view. Looking east and north-ish from the top of the butte. That's the Wind River range pressed against the horizon. Pretty swell, eh?

On Saturday, it was off to Glimpse Lake with a bigger group. A friend of ours who lives on the other side of the Winds drove down and around 'em to spend Saturday and Sunday with us. We hadn't seen him for a few years, so it was a fun surprise. The teeth-jarring drive to the trailhead became worth it early on. This was minutes into the ride. Those are the Winds, much closer this time:

Twisting slightly to the right after taking the photo above, a clear view of Fremont Lake, which we followed for awhile up high, until dropping back down and into the trees.

So, Michelle. I have some major hat envy. To say nothing of your handsome horse. Hi, Wizard.

This would be a parking lot, back-country style.

Nice place for lunch and a beverage, don't you think?

The Fort Robinson bunch. My dirty knee is a nice touch.

Next stop? Trapper Lake, where it was easier for the horses to cool their heels. Or knees. Valentine, there on the left, wasn't so keen on the idea, but Sage/Steve and Wizard/Michelle didn't even break stride till they got where they wanted to be.

Somewhere in the Bridger wilderness, between Trapper Lake and the trailhead, there is a tube of my favorite chapstick. If you find it, uh, leave it be. I might or might not have dozed off on the way back to Pinedale. This was looking out my window of the truck:

On Sunday, off to Hoback Junction, then a right turn, a left turn and a couple of rocky miles before parking the trailer. Not long after we got in the saddle, we came across a couple of hunting parties packing out meat. We tried to invite ourselves for dinner, but we couldn't get anyone to agree. Funny that ...

So, on we went, through the brush -- willows in Wyoming -- rubbernecking, chatting

and following Shoal Creek headed for Shoal Falls.

Yes, this is real. And yes, it's difficult to fit into a camera frame.

We tied the horses deep in the woods in the background and hiked and scrambled and scrambled some more to the spot near the falls where we had lunch and, um, more beverages.

We tackled the world's problems -- glad we got that all sorted out! -- and yes, it was pretty funny. Michelle isn't the only one who can rock a cowboy hat!

A few more pictures, for good measure. It's difficult to see, but the slabs were lined up like slices in a loaf of bread.

We won't talk about our misadventure getting back to the horses. We were not lost. We weren't! Let's say we took a walk before riding back out. It was just as beautiful heading out as it was heading in.

We kept trying to cram it all into a camera frame, of course.

Kara came close with this one. If I had to pick a single favorite image from the trip, this would have to be it:

Thanks, Kara, for another great weekend. Happy Trails.

A New Dog Toy

2011-09-13T00:07:00.000-07:00

What could possibly be better than a kong with peanut butter? A woodpile with a chipmunk:

They do this for huge stretches of time.

It has never occurred to either one of them to jump the fence and visit with Titan, the dog next door.

The woodpile is getting a little ragged looking and Henry tends to lose his head.

But, try as they might, Chippie always wins.

AzGym's Turn to Sparkle

2011-09-09T10:02:00.001-07:00

Everyone's favorite Grandpa horse had his turn to shine last weekend, when he delivered the groom to his wedding at the Hindu temple in Maple Grove. Yes, he's wearing the headpiece upside down -- it was way too big and he couldn't see, so we spun it around. No one seemed to notice or care. A quick test drive to make sure he wouldn't mind his new clothes and that lurking umbrella:

Check and ... check. Next up? Load the groom. It was a bit easier said than done, but we made it. A last-minute addition of earplugs -- loud music! fireworks! -- and off they went.

For being such a good boy, he got a little extra grain in his bucket when he got home.

Pure and Simple, Another Sweater

2011-09-07T12:08:00.000-07:00

Clearly the yarn still looks gray, but I swear it's still navy. And, it's been reconfigured into this sweater, which has been done for a month or so, but I, uh, forgot about it. I know. What kind of knitter forgets about a sweater. One who finishes it during the 95-degree, 95-percent humidity days of July, apparently.

No extra charge for the silly model, who was a good sport in agreeing to pose mid-hairstyle! Even she noticed how nice the yarn felt, especially after it had been blocked, when it got even softer and more against-the-skin friendly. The next time I use this pattern, I will make the V deeper than written -- ventilation being an utmost priority these days. ahem ... -- but it fits its recipient flawlessly, which is what counts. Also in the done pile? This:

Is now this! I love it!

Even Mr. Denney noticed ... and asked for his own. Not being a bright-green kind of guy, he quickly added that he'd rather have gray. Or brown. Have I mentioned that he is the King of brown and gray? He will have to wait because I've recently dove into this wee assortment of Rowan yumminess:

We'll see what happens.

Yarn on the Hoof!

2011-08-21T20:35:00.000-07:00

This is college move-in weekend for my favorite sophomore, but that doesn't mean there hasn't been time for a couple of side trips for Mom and Aunt Donna, who very graciously did the legwork so we could spend a Saturday afternoon ... where else? In a barn. Or two.

Barely 10 minutes from the house -- dangerously convenient! -- and we wove up the driveway at Tryphon Farm, near Waynesville. Owner Marian Davis introduced us to her herd, who were quite curious. Perhaps they'd never seen anyone from Minnesota before. Funny how courage grew in direct proportion to the quantity of snacks being offered, including by this guy with the blue eyes. Quite striking!

Marian had a few sweaters as well as some roving -- "It's like a cloud!" Donna said, with her arm buried up to her elbow -- as well as some aran or maybe even light-bulky yarns. She also had a sturdy dark grey worsted weight that would be perfect for a man's sweater. Inquiring minds might like to know that her property is for sale, so this could be the perfect opportunity for a lovely little farm and a fabulous way of life. You're welcome.

After a quick trip home to check on the dogs, it was off to Stewart Heritage Farm. We spent at least an hour with owner Brenda Hanes, chatting in the barn and feeding more snack-happy alpacas, and then dodging some curious chickens as we visited the boy-flavored alpacas in a nearby paddock. The fleece on the animals, including Mr. Pushy Boy, was very lovely and the colors were so rich! All that brown and grey! Kinda made the knees go weak, says the queen of ... brown and grey.

Brenda took these pictures in the third paddock, which was all girls, except for one little boy who probably will be moving to the other dorm soon. Some of them were a little stand-offish but most were very friendly, especially after they realized we had some feed in our hands. And, we found out quickly who was the mom of Mr. Pushy Boy. He comes by it naturally. By the way, want to start a small alpaca riot? Bring out some sliced carrots.

There were some beautiful animals in this group, too, and it was fun to hear them hum and click at each other. One of my favorites was the one with the speckled neck -- Brenda said that she has friendly days and not-so-friendly days and Saturday was definitely a friendly day. She. Liked. Me. And I liked her, too. Check out the little black one with the white brow. How cute is that!

Brenda had been to a farmers market over in Yellow Spring in the morning and it sounded like she'd gotten a fair lot of business. She carries yarn and mentioned some rugs that I would like to have had a look at, but it was getting late and we didn't want to wear out our welcome. And, my favorite college sophomore was waiting for us so we could go to dinner.

By the way, if you're looking for some brain candy, have a go at some books by Sally Goldenbaum. "Death by Cashmere" and "Patterns in the Sand" won't change your life, but they're a fun read. If you like them, they are part of a series.

How Hot Is It?

2011-07-18T11:28:00.000-07:00

In case you haven't heard, it's hot. It's humid. It's beyond humid. No kidding, it's steamy:

Behind the fog is some Sulka, a single-ply from Mirasol, one of two recent (small) cheats on this summer's yarn diet. It's on sale, so how I could resist? This is what it looked like before the humidity and before it visited the ballwinder:

It's lovely and I can't stop squeezing it. And, it matches Kitten's eyes.

Four hanks -- about 55 yards each -- should be quite enough for a cowl, this one, in fact. One skein into it and I could be in love. Think Lopi gone uptown.

Equally uptown is Rowan's Cocoon. It was another departure from the yarn diet -- yes, again -- but it was just a couple of skeins. (Don't start with me. Two skeins is not 10-plus, which is what I'd get for a sweater) It raced through its WIP phase and is quite happy as a hat. Moon, from Kim Hargreaves' "Cherished."

The only reason I blocked it was to flatten out and accentuate the pattern. I had no idea it would get even softer! Kitten was most pleased with the result:

Somewhat Knitting Related ...

2011-07-06T10:57:00.000-07:00

Two links came across my screen lately that are worth sharing. The first builds the case that sheep aren't dumb.

The second is today's dose of cleverness. Because a sense of humor is always appreciated. No squinting.

This is included here because I was sitting on the back step when I saw it and took a break from my knitting to get it into a vase:

Aubrey's Sweater

2011-07-06T10:19:00.000-07:00

The neighbors had a baby about a month ago, so of course, they were the target of recent enthusiasm. Some Calmer -- you say kiwi, I say apple green -- had been taunting me at the shop, and at last! A Genuinely Legitimate Reason to break this summer's yarn diet! It was nice in the hand, minimal snagging, just a bit of stretch. Yum. And, it was perfect for my go-to, most-excellent pattern.

Knitting rarely goes without incident, and this time was no different. No names, of course, but a certain knitter forgot to put in the buttonhole. Thank heaven for large snaps, just sayin'. In addition, it didn't occur to said unnamed knitter -- whose own babies could only be described as, well, jumbo -- that this baby might be tiny, er, normal. In other words, this is a big baby sweater. Or a big-baby sweater. Hyphenate or not, your choice.

Anyway, little Aubrey might be 2 or 3 before she doesn't drown in it.

Smiley Riley

2011-06-27T10:28:00.000-07:00

Today was a difficult day.

Sweet Riley. We tried to make sure that the last eight years of your life were better than the first two. Wait for us. Good boy.

Any Stephen Wright Fans Out There?

2011-06-14T15:28:00.000-07:00

I don't know about about you, but I've been needing a good laugh. Happily for me, someone sent me these gems from Stephen Wright, odd and hilarious:

The World According to Stephen Wright
• I used to work in a fire hydrant factory. You couldn't park anywhere near the place.
• Last week, I went to a furniture store to look for a decaffeinated coffee table. They couldn't help me.
• What's another word for "thesaurus"?
• When I get real bored, I like to drive downtown and get a great parking spot, then sit in my car and count how many people ask if I'm leaving.
• When I was a kid, we had a quicksand box in the backyard. I was an only child . . . eventually.
• I bought some batteries, but they weren't included. So I had to buy them again.
• For my birthday I got a humidifier and a dehumidifier. I put them in the same room and let them fight it out.
• I have a switch in my apartment that doesn't do anything. Every once in a while I turn it on and off. One day I got a call from a guy in France who said, "Cut it out!"
• I replaced the headlights on my car with strobe lights. Now it looks like I'm the only one moving.
• I wrote a song, but I can't read music. Every time I hear a new song on the radio, I think "Hey, maybe I wrote that."
• I got my driver's license photo taken out of focus on purpose. Now when I get pulled over the cop looks at it (moving it nearer and farther, trying to see it clearly)... and says, "Here, you can go."
• I went to a general store, but they wouldn't let me buy anything specific.
• I turned my air conditioner the other way around, and it got cold out. The weatherman said, "I don't understand it. It was supposed to be 80 degrees out today." I said "Oops . . ."
• I put contact lenses in my dog's eyes. They had little pictures of cats on them. Then I took one out and he ran around in circles.
• I spilled Spot remover on my dog. Now he's gone.
• My neighbor has a circular driveway. He can't get out.
• I bought some powdered water, but I didn't know what to add.
• I put instant coffee in a microwave and almost went back in time.
• I have an answering machine in my car. It says, "I'm home now, but leave a message and I'll call when I'm out."
• I bought a house on a one-way dead-end road. I don't know how I got there.
• I have a hobby. I have the world's largest collection of sea shells. I keep it scattered on beaches all over the world. Maybe you've seen some of it.
• I Xeroxed a mirror. Now I have an extra Xerox machine.
• Last week I forgot how to ride a bicycle.
• My school colors were clear.
• I stayed in a really old hotel last night. They sent me a wakeup letter.
• I'm taking La maze classes. I'm not having a baby, I'm just having trouble breathing.
• When I was in high school, I got in trouble with my girlfriend's Dad. He said, "I want my daughter back by 8:15." I said, "The middle of August? Cool!"
• My girlfriend's weird. One day she asked me, "If you could know how and when you were going to die, would you want to know?" I said, "No." She said, "Okay, forget it."
• I went for a walk last night and she asked me how long I was going to be gone. I said, "The whole time."
• My buddy got busted for counterfeiting. He was making pennies. They caught him because he was putting the heads and tails on the wrong sides.
• He's in a minimum security prison now; he's on a whiffle-ball and chain.
• Hermits have no peer pressure.
• Whenever I think of the past, it brings back so many memories .
• There's a fine line between fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot.
• How much deeper would the ocean be if sponges didn't live there?
• Did Washington just flash a quarter for his ID?
• I just got skylights put in my place. The people who live above me are furious.
• Imagine if birds were tickled by feathers.
• I remember when the candle shop burned down. Everyone stood around singing "Happy Birthday".
• I accidentally installed the deer whistles on my car backwards. Now everywhere I go, I'm chased by a herd of deer.
• I got stopped by a cop the other day. He said, "Why'd you run that stop sign?" I said, "Because I don't believe everything I read."
• It doesn't matter what temperature a room is, it's always room temperature.
• Yesterday, my eyeglass prescription ran out.
• I'm a peripheral visionary.
• I make my own water - two glasses of H, one glass of O.
• Ballerinas are always on their toes. Why don't they just get taller ballerinas?
• The other day, I went to a tourist information booth and asked, "Tell me about some of the people who were here last year."
• Why in a country of free speech, are there phone bills?

Clever is the Best -- Always

2011-06-09T13:36:00.000-07:00

This wee video is making the rounds today. It's by Lorna's Laces. (I think I will have to finally get some of that yarn.) Enjoy:

Shades of Pink

2011-06-08T10:56:00.000-07:00

A couple quick fixes of spring! At the barn:

And in the backyard. If only they were ever-blooming.

Mini Adventures of Mini Mochi

2011-05-31T11:59:00.000-07:00

As knitting detours go, this one was nearly ideal: one free pattern plus two skeins of minimal expense, in this instance also known as Mini Mochi, (#307 storm clouds -- I was not in a bad mood, honest) equals a lovely diversion. Don't let the example on the website put you off -- it would peel paint. Consider yourself warned.

It was fun to knit, but nearly didn't happen.

It was the classic MO of my inhouse yarn vandal, who simply couldn't leave it alone!

A quick trip back to the shop to snag the last skein (!!) and I was back on track. Being a person of some extra size, I went for broke and did an extra repeat, which added just enough length to the shawl and pretty much took care of that left-over yarn problem:

Perhaps the best part of this was the sawtooth edging. I'd not done it before and it's terrific!

The yarn vandal returned, lurking for an opportunity. Hi Boing!

Knit, blocked, tried on and photographed ...

... And I don't know whether I even like it. Sigh.

The Power of Flowers

2011-05-16T21:26:00.001-07:00

I found this photo in my phone the other day. I'd forgotten about it -- but not the flowers themselves. They appeared on my desk about a month ago during some awkwardness over a job reshuffling. The gesture meant alot. Thanks, Judyrs. You're grand.

Blogger Ate My Post

2011-05-10T11:18:00.000-07:00

And I'm right peeved about it. Not that it was Pulitzer material, but it was a nice chat about moving my favorite college freshman-now-sophomore out of her dorm at the University of Dayton. I remember thinking that afternoon that I should've had that irksome pedometer* along, for all the walking I was doing.

She was remarkably organized with her packing, so while she filled bins, I schlepped the full ones out to the truck. Back and forth, back and forth and back and forth some more. I got very lucky when I scored a parking spot close to the door. This was the view from where I parked:

The line went past the horizon and filled the two parking lots that are just out of view. For all the commotion, there was little to no chaos. And not one bit of crabbiness! People held doors, shared vacuums, helped pick up a tipped luggage dolly (thanks again, everyone), and eventually we made our last trip out of the building. We drove back to Mamaw's house, and it felt so good to sit down. And then ... o-o.

My favorite college-freshman-now-sophomore had forgotten her fish in the lounge. This wasn't just any ol' beta -- it was a gift from her Pi-Phi big sister. So back to the dorm she went.

The next morning, I decided that my reward for being such a good helper mommy would be a quick field trip:

In Centerville's historic district, it's a cozy place -- two customers are company, three a crowd -- and arranged a bit differently than most shops I've been to. Instead of being arranged by weight, most of the shelves were arranged by color. It reminded me of the rows of paint chips at [insert your favorite home improvement center here]. Being on a strict yarn diet these days, I didn't buy anything, but I nearly caved when I saw a basket of this.

There wasn't a soul there when we arrived, the door wide open. I had just started poking around when the owner returned. She'd been next door finalizing her bets on the Derby. "I only bet on the Triple Crown races," she said. "I win just enough to cover my losses."

------------------------------------

* we have to use them as part of a pantywaist, ridiculous wellness program we have to complete to get a discount on our health insurance.

A Bind Off Requires a Cast On or Two

2011-03-07T10:34:00.001-08:00

Finishing Mr. Denney's sweater left me nearly giddy with options for what to do next. Most urgently, there is the Gaelic Mist, which, um, I can't find. How bad is that?!? Normally, I would be a bit panicked, but it will show up. And then, there's the perpetual project — the red Jo Sharp vest, which technically is not withering on the vine because i do want to finish it, but it sort of is. I really dread sewing that collar/front panel. Dunno why, really, other than that it will take forever. It certainly shouldn't be difficult. So, opting for the path of least resistance — oh, come on, you do it, too — I cast on for two/II/2/ii/ sweaters. The first, the V-neck pullover from Knitting Pure and Simple. The yarn, purchased here, is soooo nice. I know what you're thinking. It is not gray. It's navy:

The second cast on? Hamish, from this book, which I can't find anywhere on the Rowan site. There are several lovely, gotta have 'em patterns in this book, and thanks to LaurieM, who sent me a few leftovers a couple years ago, I am finally getting started. For some reason, there were passersby when I was trying to take pictures:

This last photo best represents the colors. I am going to try the blue/grey as a thin stripe around the hems and near the bottom of the body.

What do you think? Suggestions welcome!

In the Pink

2011-03-06T11:54:00.001-08:00

The good news is that Mr. Denney's sweater has not fallen apart. The better news is that I liberated another set of needles over the weekend. This:

Became this. Or, uh, these:

I promised to send them to my favorite college student, but they're pretty swell, and I'm tempted to keep 'em. The pattern is available here and also on Ravelry. The pattern calls for size 8 needles, but I used 6s, perhaps because I didn't have my glasses on when I cast on? I can't say for sure. They knit up nicely, regardless. The only intentional change I made, and this is pretty small beans, was to use a lifted increase instead of the M1 for the thumb gussets. If I make another pair (and I like them well enough to do that, by the way), I might change how the main cable ends. The yarn is Malabrigo worsted, which I got on sale here, one of the two swell yarn shops within five minutes of my house. The model? My favorite high school sophomore. Thanks, Laurel! Love you! Now, go finish your homework.

Scenes from a Snowy Day

2011-03-01T10:50:00.000-08:00

Last week, while certain someones -- Barb! Ruth! Lynette! -- were frolicking in Scottsdale at the Arab Nationals, I stayed behind and soldiered through another 14 inches of fresh snow. I can complain about the weather with the best of them, but there is nothing else like a crisp, sunny winter day:

Queen Keltie, in repose:

A mysterious heap o' snow in paddock 3. There was absolutely no clue how that got there:

Mickey, missing Ruth desperately. cough.

And Finnegan, thinking that maybe I'd forgotten to take his picture:

Christmas in March

2011-03-01T10:31:00.000-08:00

It took long enough, but it's done! Woot! Woot! The tardy Lopi sweater! I overshot on the sleeves a little, but Mr. Denney will just have to cuff them. I'm not ripping. He doesn't seem to mind. In fact, I think he likes how it turned out. Now, just turn down the wattage of that smile, woodja?

Here is today's Henry photo, at no extra charge. He loved napping as close to the working portion of the sleeves as he could:

Ah, March ...

2011-03-01T10:27:00.000-08:00

I thought it would never get here. March, that is -- not that the next cold blast will pay any attention to the calendar. Neither did a copy editor, apparently. Or maybe next week really will be peculiar:

How About A Droid App?

2011-02-18T19:15:00.001-08:00

Still slogging away on the Lopi sweater -- the new joke is that it would be finished by now if Mr. Denney only had one arm. He doesn't think it's funny. The good news is that there are only six inches left on that second sleeve. The bad news is ... there is six inches left on that second sleeve. Here's what happens when one plays with a new-found Droid app: Retro Camera, using the pinhole effect. Behold a sleeve:

Here's what happens when one is chatting with the farrier and doesn't really feel like driving home just yet:

It's Finally Looking Like a Sweater

2011-01-23T23:52:00.000-08:00

Word on the street is that Christmas, New Year's and MLK Day have all come and gone. Which is too bad, because this was supposed to have been finished long before the holidays:

Considering that the front and the collar — which is pretty darn thick, and might have to be simplified — didn't exist four weeks ago and that no vacation time taken to work on it, it's come a long way. It's far enough along now that we've entered the dark time:

Yes, the sleeves. The nice thing about Lopi is that it knits up fast. The nice thing about this pattern is that it doesn't take long and it's obvious what's coming: right cross, left cross, cha-cha-cha. The pattern is an old Reynolds single-sheet that also is in The Best of Lopi, which has many classics and — this is the editor in me, I can't help this — one big typo. On a display page, no less. Ouch.

On those days when the only thing grayer than the sweater is the January sky, I've turned to this, continuing the new-found tolerance for p*nk. It should grow up to become a pair of fingerless mitts.

The technicals: The pattern is "Echoes," purchased on Ravelry, but also available at scknits.com. The yarn is yummy goodness, a k a Malabrigo worsted, purchased here back in the fall.

One parting shot. Henry couldn't quite believe I wasn't trying to take his picture. I must say, the only thing key-yooter than his long nose is his long nose peeking out of his little purple coat. Woof.

Happy Saturday!

2010-12-18T13:17:00.000-08:00

It's a week until Christmas, and what am I doing? Uploading videos, of course. This is a couple years old, but that's OK. It's still funny:

Now, back to holiday madness.

Pink? Me? Who Knew?

2010-12-09T10:35:00.000-08:00

I tend to think that pink is for hives, but these mittens were a pleasure:

Can't rave enough about the pattern. It fit, it fits, it fits! And the yarns — this one and this one — are lip-smacking good. This pair is for my favorite college girl. Love you, doll!

Baaa. Love These Sheep!

2010-12-06T10:06:00.000-08:00

I don't know whether this is live or animation. But I guess I don't care:

sheep 0001 from paul taggart on Vimeo.

Glad That's Over

2010-11-15T10:22:00.000-08:00

It was bound to happen. November. Minnesota. Moisture. And it all started innocently enough, late Friday/early Saturday:

Saturday mid-morning, it was quite lovely:

Minutes after that picture was taken, poof! it turned on us. No lights, no computer. But ... no problem! I would miss Hunting Widows Knitting Weekend (Julie! Judy! Pat! Jean!), but sitting by a window, I could see quite well enough to pick up some knitting. To help keep myself entertained, I stole an idea from the Yarn Harlot from last week. Her readers sent in Haiku; mine can best be described as hack-u. These are the ones (barely) worth repeating:

The power is out
I have my knitting and pets
Things could be much worse

It's warm by the fire
Mitten knitting up nicely
It can keep snowing

Once the cadence gets stuck in the head, it won't let go, even when it's time to go outside:

I have to shovel
Slushy driveway is a mess
Can't let it freeze up

Snow, mostly water
When did driveway get so long?
I want to be done

Still no electricity, and word on the street — from next door, anyway — was that it would be Monday (!!) until the crews could get it fixed. Not listening! Not listening! I headed for the woodpile, not to crawl underneath it, but to carry most of it into the house.* I forgot about the flue — I don't want to talk about it — but, at last:

Apparently, camping by the fireplace does not appeal to 16-year-olds. Mine took all 1,000 of her fleece blankets and went to bed, leaving her mother, the dogs and one clingy cat on the couch with candles, some Dr. Pepper and a promising novel.

I might have squealed a little on Sunday when the lights flicked back on at about noon. I am newly grateful for a warm house and electric lights. I might have to hug a lineman the next time I see one, whether he wants me to or not.

*Who needs Little House in the Prairie -- "Pa! We need more wood, Pa!" — when you can have Little House in the Suburbs -- "Mom! There's power at Xxx's house, Mom! They have a hot tub!"

A Makeover? Hardly. Just a New Template. And a Video.

2010-11-08T20:49:00.000-08:00

This is what happens when you click a button to see what happens. Viola! A new template. Don't be surprised if more fiddling occurs. In the meantime, some very clever people made a brilliant wee video, knitting content included!

What Do I Know?

2010-11-08T00:03:00.000-08:00

As I was knitting away on this, I loved the yarn — Blue Sky Suri Alpaca, what's not to like? — but the pattern? Well. This was time I wasn't going to get back. But my newly minted 16-year-old gushed over it — "Hmmm. Not bad. Warm." — and when we put it on a mannequin at the shop, people couldn't leave it alone! Several skeins of suri left for their brave new world that day, complete with the alterations to the pattern: knit with 9s, not 6s, cast on 160, not 150 stitches and knit the whole skein, not just 3-1/2 inches (that's one short neck!).

As for this early-fall favorite-in-waiting?

Love them, love them! I reach for them nearly all the time. For holding on to a cold steering wheel, mostly, but they're great when I'm hanging out in the barn, getting a whole lot of nothing done. Consumer tip: When the pattern says to cast off loosely, that means ... cast off loooos-leeee — or have a lobster claw where your hand used to be. Ask me how I know.

Guess who's getting some whiskers. Hint: barkbark barkbarkbarkbark barkbarkbarkbark barkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbark barkbarkbark barkbarkbark barkbark

I Have, Have You?

2010-11-02T10:08:00.000-07:00

Today's the day. Do it for yourself, do it for your neighbors, do it for your country. Just do it.

The Day I Made It Happen

2010-10-26T00:29:00.000-07:00

Ever have one of those days? OK. Ever have one of those days lately? You know the ones. In the morning, things are clear to the horizon: no errands, no vet appointments, no oil changes. Nothing until 3:30. Plenty of time to cast on and get going on something fun and new.

So ... how did it get to be 7:30 tonight before I could sit down and pick up the needles. And not even start the new project? Not complaining, just diverted to the seed stitch portion of something else, some stealth knitting during the band concert. (CRHS bands are terrific, by the way. Especially the symphonic band. Especially the oboe player in the symphonic band who played a solo)

Fast forward three hours. Dogs fed, cat fed, late dinner simmering, that new project back on the radar. Started casting on and — wait for it — the lights went out. (Really now. How could I make that up?) Dinner got cold, but I was not to be denied:

Technical details: The pattern is this. The yarn is this.

My Baby is ... 16!

2010-10-23T12:07:00.000-07:00

You might have the birthday, but your dad and I received the gift:

Happy Birthday Punkin Pie, Laurel-b'naurel.

Love you.

This is Not An Endorsement of Anything. Meow.

2010-10-08T19:24:00.000-07:00

A kitty fix — this is wonderful.

Three Lucky Dawgs

2010-09-18T22:33:00.000-07:00

I've dug up pictures of my three yahoodlers tonight, not just because I think they're so darn cute — which they are, natch! — but because I just learned about a promotion by Pedigree® dog food, an Adoption Drive, that expires Sept. 19, which is tomorrow.

There is an ongoing campaign on Facebook: Get a dog a free bowl of food by clicking here.

But that isn't the end of it. If you happen to have a blog — better done than mine, I hope! — please launch a quick post before midnight tomorrow (Sunday) and mention this effort. Your reward? Pedigree® says it will donate a 20-lb. bag of food to a shelter. Enter the link to your blog post here to get it done.

I would like to juice up the challenge: When you're running your errands, any time in the next several days, buy a bag of pet food — dog or cat — and drop it off at your local shelter or rescue organization. Doesn't have to be the fancy stuff. Shelter animals are notoriously grateful for whatever kindness they receive.

And then go home and give your pets an extra squeeze — because they're some of the lucky dawgs.

Seriously Orange

2010-09-14T21:01:00.000-07:00

Signs of Fall

2010-09-13T12:23:00.000-07:00

I know when autumn is coming because this tree always announces the news. Sometimes it's the middle of August; this year, it held off until the first of September:

I know when autumn is coming because a pair of fingerless mittens becomes my project de rigueur. This year, it's times two.

Top, pattern and yarn, Blue Sky's brushed Suri, purchased here. This pair is finished and already with its new owner.

Bottom, Frog Tree's alpaca worsted, which I found on sale here. It appears to have been discontinued, so if yer interested, buy now, buy often. The pattern is from the book and is, so far, smartly done. Perhaps this pair will stay closer to home.

A Couple of Takes on the Day

2010-09-11T21:17:00.000-07:00

As far as I know, our local fire department didn't get much attention from the media today, but they were a class act, unlike some others this week— cough that fruit loop in Florida cough. There was nothing ostentatious, no phony piety, no reporters camped out. The crew simply parked one of their trucks on the highway bridge, manned it all day (as in from early in the morning) and flew the flag from their cherry picker, which was fully extended. Whose motives were more genuine?

I don't always care for The Onion, but it clearly has some highly placed sources: They reprinted an interview with God, and wrangled an update on the hijackers. Searingly brilliant.

Of course, the sacrifice that began nine years ago is nowhere near finished. That is what I think we should remember. I wish I could say it as wonderfully as this clip does:

Off to School ... and Back to School

2010-09-09T20:07:00.000-07:00

Ours was but one of countless families who've gotten a fresh serving of bittersweet in the past few weeks. Sending a kid off to college is not for the feint of heart. So much pride. Anticipation. Bubbles of worry. That little voice that promises they'll be fine. And then, what can you do but step aside (and take Dad by the ear because, yes, really. We have to leave now). But first, one more photo!

This is the first time in 13 years that the girls were not together for the annual First Day of School pictures. But, while we left a freshman at the University of Dayton, we had a sophomore ready for her second year at the high school:

There's a new rhythm, a new normal. Welcome September. Here's to a good year.

An FO, a new UFO. Ee-i-ee-i-o

2010-09-01T08:58:00.000-07:00

It took way longer than it should have — darn those interruptions —

but here it is, at (very) long last. The Isager sugar jacket. Knit exactly as instructed in the book, except for starting the sleeve increases an inch sooner:

There is a ton of knitting in it, but it should be — except for overly busy people such as the person at the keyboard — a fairly quick project. The short-row shaping at the shoulders and in the collar is very smart, as is the way the increases are worked in the sleeve. A word of caution to the large-boned: apparently Danish women are toothpicks. Just sayin'. Anyway, the object is over at the shop, if you're curious.

I'm glad that I made that sweater and I'm glad it's finished — it feels like a logjam has broken. Or at least a log has been removed. It isn't like there aren't any other UFOs on the shelf. Just to be sure, however, I took this from the stash pile:

and moved it the UFO pile. It's Theresa Gaffey's Seaweed Stole, made with Louet's Kidlin lace weight. As with many things, it isn't difficult, the key is to *pay attention and count.* Repeat between *.

Some thoughtful soul (Laurie, was that you?) left this book on my chair at work the other day. There are several projects that I really like, and am nursing a small crush on the scarf by Jared Flood, who also did the photography for the book. At last, I have the perfect reason to get a little something from Beaverslide Dry Goods. I've been wanting to try their yarn for ages.

Yes, really. Don't give me that look.

Suggestions, Please

2010-08-01T22:11:00.000-07:00

I stopped in at Amazing Threads a couple of weeks ago. The fall Debbie Bliss magazine wasn't there yet, but this was:

Trabajos del Peru from Plymouth Yarns. 4 st/inch on a size 9. It rode around in the truck with me for several days, but never once told me what it wants to be. Feel free to help out.

June. The Highlights Reel.

2010-07-12T11:32:00.000-07:00

Every parent knows about The Time Warp: Where minutes drag like days, days take weeks and years flash by in minutes. How did we end up here?

Graduation night. Mariucci Arena — the first time ever, by the way, that commencement was not held on school grounds. It worked out fabulously, but never mind. Here she comes. That's her there, bringing up the rear:

That's her sister, the one playing the oboe in the band, just behind that white splotch, to the left of the stage:

Thank heaven for the Jumbotrons.

There's more to June than graduation and the 5,247 parties, of course. Show season goes into full tilt. This is the summer of limited tilting at our house, but we're making it to a few rings. The big boy is showing 4th level and Prix St. Georges this year, for the curious. When people ask what happens at horse shows, it is easiest to compare them with track meets: lots of waiting around broken up by bursts of commotion. Guess which part this is.

Some of us manage to get a few things done, say filling out those infernal show forms (4-2? 4-3? PSG? I either need a quarterback or a vowel), with healthy diversions of ... what else? Reading about knitting ...

... and even actual knitting -- this is the first sleeve for the Isager sweater.

Plus one gratuitous dog photo.

Dressage Rap. No Kidding.

2010-07-06T21:41:00.000-07:00

It's been busy: Work. Commencement. Work. Graduation party. Work. Horse shows hither and yon — O.K., Iowa. Work. My camera charger is MIA. Work. The computer is shutting off randomly and wantonly. Work. It's too humid to think. Work.

Did I mention work?

But my sense of humor? Intact:

Carry on. Next time, there will be knitting. Promise!

Big Is as Big Does

2010-06-15T21:30:00.001-07:00

Who says that dressage horses have to be big to be fancy. Not this guy:

My Knitty Kitty

2010-05-24T09:51:00.000-07:00

Winding skeins? A fairly simple job, most of the time:

Except when you have help.

Letting Go

2010-05-20T23:07:00.000-07:00

It started out as most projects do: Drawn by the yarn or perhaps by the way it draped when knit into a duster. Then, cheered on by the yarn shop committee, an eager cast-on -- 200-plus stitches? bring it on -- and enough enthusiasm to get through the first 6-8 inches. Of stockinette. Relentless. Stockinette. O look. More stockinette.

The love flatlined, but good intentions tapped at the conscience, so the drone, er, project waited. UFOs intruded: Mittens, a couple of scarves, a few hats and a vest. A few months later, a check of the pulse. Nope. Still nothing there. The thrill was good and done gone. We weren't even friends anymore. Time to take out the needle and pull. Frog.

Keep ripping.

One more good yank.

Help has arrived. Fresh from digging in the dirt.

Ok. That's quite enough help. Ja, we're good. Thanks.

Not all is lost. It's a linen blend, after all. There could be washcloths in its future. It might even get its picture uploaded to Ravelry! But until then, it's back into the yarn library. ... What's this? Right here? Oh, nothing. Just a little something that fell off the shelf. And then followed me around the store. It was really embarrassing.

We're just friends.

Quiet Morning in May

2010-05-17T12:18:00.000-07:00

At last, with May having finally(?) turned its back on cold weather, this is finished. It was my, um, winter olympics project: a braided cable scarf using Kid Classic, both yarn and pattern picked out at All About Yarn, which is all of five minutes away (a blessing and a curse). It was soft before I blocked it, but it got even softer and bloomed just a tiny bit, not enough to fuzz over the cabling. This will be wonderful tucked inside my winter coat, but I can wait.

Taking pictures of out-of-season knitting? That's about as exciting as it gets around here some mornings. Just ask these guys:

A Short Birthday Tale

2010-05-12T12:15:00.000-07:00

I didn't sleep well that night at the hospital, but when the doctor arrived the next morning and said something about "non-productive labor," I had to disagree: I'd painted my toes — quite the feat, considering I'd been pregnant for about 10 years — tried to read (not much luck with that), confirmed my suspicions about late-night television and had chit-chatted the life out of every single topic with Mr. Denney, who has never been that shade of pale again. Ever.

Four hours later, the doctor put you in my arms and my heart was full.

When you started your first day of kindergarten, I watched you march through the doors and my heart was full.

You're 18 today and my heart is full.
Happy Birthday, Sweetpea. Love you.

Shepherd's Harvest Festival — A Confession

2010-05-10T10:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Callum, Derry, Niamh, Capri, Schnecke, Retro, Phoenix, Charlie Brown and Ernie,

I went to the showgrounds this weekend without you. It was odd, seeing your barn with the doors closed and your favorite arena empty (It looked to be in pretty good shape, by the way). No evil trailers with you-know-whats inside, nor anyone in the office to pop into that big window all scary-like. This was the weekend for Shepherds Harvest. Goats, yarn, sheep, yarn, llamas, yarn, dogs — and did i mention yarn?

It isn't as large or as well-known as the big boys out in Maryland and New Hampshire, but it's ours and it's great fun.

Since my last visit, two years ago, the organizers have spread everyone out across four buildings — more elbow room for all! — this is great for browsers with large shoulder bags (ask me how I know), but it makes it more difficult to show how many people were there. Apparently, the only thing more confounding than herding cats is herding people for a group shot:

There are judges here, too:

as well as down time for the riders, er, handlers.

Yooz guys aren't the only ones who have to learn to handle new situations. This little girl is learning to deal with it. Sound familiar? *cough* Callum *cough*

While I think you all have horns sometimes — or at least the attitude — I bet you can't match these. If I call you "Jacob," you'll know why:

Your cuteness and handsomeness and snarfle-y noses can not be beat. But these sweet things are giving you a run for the money:

The next time you're feeling inconvenienced, please think of this mama (um, perhaps it's time to graduate to a sippy cup):

And there's no reason to ever feel foolish in those pansy braids. This fella has a poodle cut!

And then, there's this:

Kinda puts a getting a bridle path in a new light, doesn't it.

This is for All The Moms

2010-05-08T19:10:00.000-07:00

Thanks, Pam, for sending this to me and the others:

On Being Mom
by Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist and Author

If not for the photographs, I might have a hard time believing they ever existed. The pensive infant with the swipe of dark bangs and the black button eyes of a Raggedy Andy doll. The placid baby with the yellow ringlets and the high piping voice. The sturdy toddler with the lower lip that curled into an apostrophe above her chin.

All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like.

Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.

Everything in all the books I once pored over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton., Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education, all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories.

What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations --what they taught me, was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all. Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.

When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing.

Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.

Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the, "Remember-When-Mom-Did Hall of Fame." The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, What did you get wrong? (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?

But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs.

There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.

Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their trueselves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be.

The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.

Clover

2010-05-06T20:59:00.001-07:00

Today was a difficult day.

Don't let the scowl fool you. He was a big mush bucket.
Sweet Clover
Sept. 1995 — May 6, 2010

How To Fill A Calendar

2010-05-05T23:34:00.000-07:00

Take two teen-aged girls. Add one prom, one horse exhibition, four softball games. Sandwich between a full-time job, a part-time job, three dogs, two cats, a bit of riding and various household duties. Allow sediment to settle and viola! This is what remains:

It was a glorious weekend. Except for the sunny/cloudy, hurricane/calm, cold/colder part. Yes, this was me:

Watching the games and keeping an eye on this:

It was slightly drier, but still cold, at the State Fairgrounds for the Horse Expo. The horses and their riders, I think, were oblivious:

Arty or just blurry? Decide among yourselves. Callum and Meredith in the Colliseum:

This team was one of the featured attractions — the Priefert Percherons. I kept thinking 'horses of the apocalpyse,' but really. These were slack-jaw gorgeous horses. 18.2 hands:

Look at this little cutie-patootie, behind Angie and Sally the prettiest mule ever. That little darlin' and her pal are there every year:

This one is my favorite. No horses, no bats, no gloves. Just my beautiful babies, all dressed up:

Love you.

A Wee F.O.

2010-05-05T10:36:00.000-07:00

I might not believe it either, had I not witnessed the whole thing: A knitting project, made for the season* in time for the season:

It looks good with jeans, over a white blouse as well, so it might stay in the closet all year — after it's done at the shop, where it will be spending the summer.

Tech talk, if you're curious:
The pattern is from the Easy Breezy summer booklet from Nashua Yarns.
Size large
3 skeins of Creative Focus Linen
size 6 needles

Now. What to do about the ongoing crush on this:

which is from this booklet. It seems odd that I haven't seen the yarn in many shops. Is there something I should know?

Get this. I think that this pet bed would be fun to make. Size 50 (!!) needles would be a challenge for these ache-y hands, but the staggering factor is the yarn: Bagsmith Big Stitch, sold by the "bump." Check the price! I feel a different yarn coming on.

*Not today, though -- I half expect Dorothy to blow by the window. And her little dog, too.

Good News and A Lucky Find

2010-04-03T21:35:00.000-07:00

He's home! Seems he spent the week trapped behind some carpeting or some such in our new neighbor's garage — or some nook on the porch. I was so happy to get him back I might have missed that detail. He was hungry and thirsty, but in good shape. Yay!

Earlier in the evening, I was at the grocery picking up odds and ends, when I found this odd end in the magazine rack!

It looked like it had been sloshing around in a box for awhile. It's scuffed up, but for:

I don't care! The hairdos are dated, but pattern for the Kilim Jacket is in there, in case you were wondering. In case you might want to make it for me. I'm off to do a little knitting and hold my kitty.

Happy Easter!

Where Can He Be?

2010-03-29T22:22:00.001-07:00

Please come home, Boing. Please.

I Love This!

2010-03-24T10:46:00.001-07:00

This YouTube clip has been making the rounds. It's charming:

What a ton of work — here's a warm round of applause to the creators.
Want to see how it was made?

Catchin' a Wave -- Too Cute!

2010-03-24T10:08:00.000-07:00

I wouldn't have believed this, had I not seen it. They're soft, sweet, adorable and ... very brave. I love these little guys even more. I'd like to know the man's story. Is this his pet?

Still Lifes (Lives?) With Pets ...

2010-03-22T09:02:00.001-07:00

... Or: All right. Everybody outside while I try to take these pictures. The first is called "Tank Top with Kitten Foot":

It is going to be another sample for the shop, a Nashua tank top. I'm using their Creative Focus Linen (50-50 linen and cotton) instead of their 100 percent cotton, which has gotten, uh, mixed reviews.

Project No. 2 is "Cable Braid Scarf with Nosy Puppy":

This was (is still) my unofficial Winter Olympics knitting project. Using a shop pattern from All About Yarn, it uses four skeins of Rowan's Kid Classic, strands held double, so net yardage is two skeins (huh?). I will probably get one more skein and work from both ends to make it a titch longer; nitpicky me might make it a bit wider next time, but I'm sticking with the Kid Classic. Yum. This is also very nice worked single strand with Big Wool or a similar super bulky.

Isn't he just about the cutest thing? (Don't tell Henry I said that)

He was tied outside the auction barn in Hinckley a couple Saturdays ago. I'd tagged along with the horse trainer, who was trying to sell a pair of saddles. I didn't buy him — or anything else, for that matter — but someone did. $32.50 and ... sold! I have to say that there is a whole lot of cr*p at these gatherings, but there were a few gems, too: a brand new Carhartt jacket comes to mind. Mostly what I was thinking, however, was why hadn't I brought a little project along?

A Quick Trip to Florida

2010-03-15T12:45:00.001-07:00

This little outing came up rather quickly a few weeks ago. Mom has Parkinson's disease and, for whatever reason, it was giving her more problems than usual, so my parents decided to come home from St. Petersburg early this year. They were under some time pressure to get home for a doctor's appointment, and they asked my sister and I to help them close their little place for the season.

They have the ritual down to a very exacting routine, actually, from emptying the fridge — "leave the beer for Fred. He likes that kind" — to slipping the panels behind the sliding door — it helps reflect the summer heat — to leaving small pans of kitty litter all over the apartment -- apparently it helps absorb moisture. It works for cats, so why not?

It wasn't all about vacuuming and covering furniture. We had a day to get the short tour of some of their favorite haunts. This bridge will haunt me, that's for sure:

We were already on the water, four lanes of traffic, and we weren't even at the bridge. I stayed calm and didn't throw up. I stayed calm and didn't throw up. I stayed calm and ... We crossed it coming and going to Ellenton Outlets, where I did a wee bit of shopping at the Birkenstocks store (the best part — the clerk didn't smirk when I told her what size).

Of course, we stopped at the beach -- Madeira Beach, about 10 minutes from their place. This is my sister — we both were a little stunned that we were actually here, barefoot on powder sugar sand.

This is me — maybe those smirking clerks have every right to purse their tight little lips. I do have big feet!

I like these pictures of Mom and Dad. Get a load of the bare-chested wonder in the background. It was a cool, 50-55 degree day; even us Northerners had a jacket on.

And, one can't hardly go to the beach and then not bore others with pictures of the water. ...

You're welcome.

A Little This, A Little That

2010-02-03T12:18:00.000-08:00

Now that January has morphed into February, we've entered the longest half of winter. One remedy? A quick bit of knitting. If not the cowl from She Shoots Sheep Shots, there's this, a free pattern from Blue Sky Alpacas:

They are weightless and surprisingly warm. Knit with size 5 double points -- the few that Henry hasn't eaten -- and cast off with a size 7, to ensure an elastic top. The yarn? Blue Sky's Brushed Suri, plucked from one of the irresistible walls at Shepherd's Choice, at the new store in Anoka. I'm thinking that, for the next pair, I'll add a small ruffle around the bottom.

If you can't be knitting, nothing says you can't be reading about knitting. There's this novel,

published last summer, but which found its way into my hands a few weeks ago. If you love Ireland, or all things Irish or Aran sweaters or all of the above, you will probably enjoy this — even if you aren't a knitter, but the book is more fun if you are. Unlike some other novels with knitting threads (sorry. had to say it), this book rings more real: no wooden conversations, for example, and no discussions among the characters about their 'relationships.' eee-yeewww. Full disclosure, however: I found the main character a bit too shrill and paranoid, but I have never had her emotional baggage, either. The book is available here or at any bookstore or library.

I am at least two years late to this party, but I'm having a great time anyway:

If I ever knit a washcloth, please check whether my meds have gone bad, but there is so much more than that in here. The authors are just so darn funny — and realistic — did I mention that there is some fabulous work? I want to make ... alot of the projects. I picked up my copy here, but it is also available here, of course. Haven't seen it in any yarn shops lately, though.

Surfing on a Thursday

2010-01-28T19:12:00.001-08:00

Look what I found, clicking around the Web. I'm not usually fond of these kinds of things, but this one is kinda sweet. Find it here.

Then there's this cowl, at She Shoots Sheep Shots. It has the ever-popular two-fer of being lovely as well as feeding that wee craving for instant gratification. (You know you want some. It's January.) She used Silk Garden Chunky and Misti Alpaca Super Chunky. Very nice.

Goldilocks, the Holy Grail and the Impossible Dream

2010-01-25T10:03:00.000-08:00

That's right. It's time to paint the short hallway from the front door to the kitchen. Anyone who's been to a [insert favorite home improvement store here] knows the number of color choices is staggering, even after ruling out the horrid ones. After guessing how the colors might shift once they left the well-lit paint displays and hit the shadowy walls at home, these were my best guesses — I mean the finalists (all are Ralph Lauren paints). Palette A, which looked lovely next to the canoeing poster, but totally not so good otherwise:

Palette B, warmer and more of what I was thinking in the first place but still iffy. In their favor, the colors also coordinate with the wallpaper in the kitchen.

Nothing said I'M IT, ME ME ME, but three samples went on the walls on Saturday night. It was either do that or do laundry.

Pay no attention to that Grandma wallpaper. That is coming off posthaste, hopefully as part of this project. But I digress. Sample No. 1, Mango Gold, at the top, is, um, very mango-y. Nearly radioactive. Can't do it. The middle one, Composed (no joke!), is the best of the three, but not quite there. As for contestant No. 3, Chamois. Hopes were high, but hmm ... well ... golly. Come to find out, our Home Depot is tossing Ralph Lauren over for Martha Stewart, so maybe I'll give the ol' gal a try. Her color sense is pretty good.

Then it will be time for the gloss, semi-gloss, satin, eggshell, matte or flat dilemma. I'm throwing in with satin. Or eggshell.

Today's head-scratcher: The most common of reference books is now illegal in one school district in California. You'll have to read it to believe it. I'm slack-jawed.

A Great Day for a Race

2010-01-12T00:19:00.000-08:00

We could've hunkered down for the day, the temperatures were on the underside of zero again on Saturday. But there we were, up at Giants Ridge, near Biwabik, for my other favorite child's heat in the high school invitational nordic races. There were more than 1,300 skiers over two days, so I knew there would be a lot of people there, but I was surprised at the crowd of spectators. The lodges were packed and the start/finish line area was frequently shoulder to shoulder as well (Non-racers were not allowed to scatter out along the course). You'd think all the body heat would help warm things up, but no such luck. Not having up-to-date, high-tech cold-weather wear, I went the onion route: layers, layers and layers. The woman working in the coffee shop looked a little taken back. "Oh, I see you aren't skiing today," she said.

Nope. So I didn't have to get pre-race jitters, either. Unlike a certain daughter, who got some coaching while dropping her drawers and snapping in:

Then it was time for the warm cape and funneling into the starting gate and some encouraging words from the other coach.

Always a last-minute equipment malfunction, natch. Nothing a good hard stomp on the binding didn't fix, however.

And then, there she was, just her and her butterflies. No warm cape, just her UnderArmor and her school colors (notice how 15-year-olds can wear skintight blocks of color and pull it off). A pair of skiers were beeped onto the course every 20 seconds (it sounded just like the Olympics).

A good launch and then she disappeared for 5K.

As a mom, a k a an embarrassment to my children, I was so proud of her. I only wish my camera battery hadn't frozen — I don't have any photos of her crossing the finish line, which was on the other side of that green fence. I had just enough juice left to get a quick photo of these kids from Northfield, who would start dancing in a huddle from time to time. It was pretty funny.

A few things worth mentioning:

• I haven't seen that many pairs of mukluks in one place ever. They truly are the best boot ever. I love mine.

• It was great to see how all the kids cheered each other on. They'd watch the clock and dash back out when their 'mates were due back at the finish and scream just as loudly to get them across the line as they did when they set off at the start.

• Controlled chaos is an amazing thing. People were coming, going, coming, going and it all worked.

• Look both ways — and again— when crossing from the lodge to the spectator line. It's nuts out there.

No More Waiting

2010-01-07T00:35:00.000-08:00

Driving to work yesterday, it felt like I was going to an execution -- it was the day everyone knew would bring the announcement. We've known for several weeks that it was coming, but it was still awful. Less an execution than a sad, reluctant divorce, actually — because when you spend your evenings, weekends and holidays with the same folks for years and years, they become a bit like family: the squabbling, hilarity, compassion, inspiration and brilliance, all on deadline no less.

Now begins the 10 days of speculation* and dark humor: Who will take a (very meager) buyout? Who will wait to be shown the door? Who will get the handful of new jobs that are supposed to blunt the hemorrhage? (Who thinks it will work?) Who is going to do all the extra work (for less pay, less time off and frozen pensions)? Who needs a cabana boy who would pour good gin and dark beer, but who would never, ever split a prepositional phrase in a headline?

Because this is a smart group, they will manage the change just fine and I hope that, next year at this time, they wonder why they didn't leave sooner. I offer them the shooting star I saw on New Year's Eve. Here's to possibilities.

*no whispering, please. that is rude.

Scenes from the Living Room

2009-12-28T12:32:00.001-08:00

Not much holifrazzle this year, thanks in part to Macy's, which was open around the clock the few days before Christmas. Who'd have thought that shopping at 1:30 in the morning could be so peaceful? The store was certainly not crowded, but there were more people there than I would've thought. The clerks were in a friendly, chatty mood, there were some great deals and parking was a snap. If it hadn't been for the snowstorm, it would've been perfect.

Speaking of the storm, even ye ol' Christmas village took a hit. Trees were uprooted:

There were straight-line winds:

and one abominable snow kitten.

What is 'I am Fly'?

2009-12-21T09:08:00.001-08:00

I don't know, but this will make you smile. It's from Knitting Daily, let's hope you don' recognize any of them:

This is Not A Commercial, But ...

2009-12-16T23:52:00.001-08:00

This poor yarn can't catch a break, either by Henry the Hambone ...

... or by knitters, as far as I can tell. It's called Old Western, a seemingly nice worsted weight, wool and acrylic (eek! the A word!) blend by Artful Yarns/JCA. It's been sitting quietly on the shelf, where I see it every Friday when I'm at the shop. It has only just a little bit of that giveaway waxy hand (fiber content: 65 percent wool, 29 percent acrylic and 6 percent nylon) and is knitting up quite nicely into a beret whose pattern is on the ballband. In other words ... if you need a last-minute Christmas present, this might be your answer.

By the way, if you are one of the lucky ones caught up on your gift list, please consider adding just one more evening's effort. Knitters are a charitable lot, and I can't think of a better cause. Pass it on ...

It Is (Way Past) Time

2009-12-14T10:16:00.000-08:00

In the words of the great Rafiki, it is time — to finish a couple of things that have been hanging around a bit too long. As much as I love the Isager sweater,

and it's coming along nicely, it's at one of those points -- about 7-8 inches up the back -- where i have to sit by the table with the book open while I work on it, so it's been set aside for just a week or so. Or three. It's difficult to find that kind of time just now. But! This is what you get when you multiply 36 stitches by 450 yards of sock yarn. Look what is finally finished, all 7-1/2 feet of it:

I don't know what happened here, but the scarf is not shaped like this. It's supposed to show how the color and pattern are nice together, not that I laid it out crooked. It looks good worn over a white blouse and jeans:

When traveling for the Thanksgiving weekend, and in the middle of two 14-hour drives (and Illinois ...), there was plenty of time to turn this:

into this:

And this:

into this (except for the felting part, natch):

One more distraction to the sweater, the excuse is that it's a Christmas gift. That odd pompon 'yarn' that is this season's lukewarm novelty? I decided it was worth 2-1/2 skeins and an evening. It's from Lana Grossa, called Ginocchi. The blue-and-brown is my crush color combo this year.

By the way, be sure to check out the new storefront for Shepherd's Choice in Anoka. The owner has changed a ratty my-junk-is-your-antiques store into a cozy, friendly shop. There is a lot of Blue Sky Alpaca, some Cascade, some of the owner's handspun and, of course, her soaps, lotions and even the fresh eggs she had out in East Bethel.

I Know. I Know. I Know.

2009-12-14T00:35:00.000-08:00

It's December. It's snowing. Traffic will be a mess tomorrow. But isn't it lovely?

Pictures of Patience

2009-11-24T00:24:00.000-08:00

Riley is the sweetest, most patient dog in the world.

I rest my case.

Who Needs Mice?

2009-11-18T21:56:00.000-08:00

A certain someone has been busy. He's very clever — the crimes tend to be committed when no one is looking — and he's enlisted an accomplice, who double-dips as an accessory after the fact.

About three weeks ago:

This is a great hat from Nashua Handknits' newest magazine. I used Kid Silk Aura (one skein of each and several additional repeats, all on size 8s, for those who might be inclined). This hole reveals a hole in my knitting skills (what? another one?) Um, would anyone be willing to fix it for me?

Two weeks ago Friday. Another hat, this one out of the Creative Focus Kid Mohair:

It was a mess, but the stubborn in me wouldn't quit picking and pulling and untwisting. With a little, um, doggedness, I knit, untangled, knit, untangled and viola! no yarn was broken in the salvaging of this fuzzy project (which is waiting for the decreases and it, too, will be finished).

I was ironing a blouse one day last week when I heard the sound of merrymaking. Someone had taken advantage of a bag of Silkroad DK:

Who is that little dark spot in the upper right? Perhaps he knows something. All of it had been in bags, safely — or so it seemed — out of danger. Silly me. It's all rewound and, while it might never be the same again, it is now suspended from the ceiling.

OK, it's just in the basement.

Some Mindless Knitting, Please

2009-11-10T00:08:00.000-08:00

Maybe we should get more bad news every day. My house would sure be cleaner -- I've been dusting for the better part of 30 minutes and I'm still so unsettled. It was silly, I guess, to think that emerging from bankruptcy meant the end of this and that we could relax, even if only a little. The mood in the newsroom tonight was grim, the humor dark. There was only one topic of conversation.

Newspapers are struggling -- death throes? I don't think so, but clearly they have to change. For now, I just want to clear my head. Where's that Isager sweater? Some low-stress knitting is just the ticket. Garter stitch. Knit-knit-knit. There's nothing to be done tonight about what the future might bring. Stay tuned.

Try This at Home. I Dare You.

2009-11-02T21:26:00.000-08:00

I guess double-dutch just doesn't cut it anymore. This takes a few minutes, but it's worth it. These kids are amazing:

Trick or Treat

2009-10-31T15:39:00.000-07:00

Happy Halloween!

Not a Total Wastrel

2009-10-24T23:07:00.000-07:00

I have no more sweeping mountain vistas to offer, but, to show that knitting hasn't been completely tossed aside, here is evidence that a row here, a row there in stolen moments starts to add up. This wavy item had several inches ripped out a couple of months ago.

Happily, what was lost has been restored and even a few extra inches tacked on for good measure. Consider the color shift an example of daylight vs. incandescent bulbs:

Say what you will about the flu*, when I was able to sit up, I was able to put some mileage where it mattered. Before illness:

After illness, one front is done and we're marching up the back. There is some short-row shaping at the shoulder, by the way. I am eager to see how it fits:

I would guess that normal people get spring fever. I got Lopi fever, and started this sweater, sure that I could crank it out by fall. Last spring (um, move over, Gunnar):

It's fall and ... well ... at least the back is done. I"m grateful that Mr. D. is a patient guy:

Please keep the family of Ann Swanson (one of the Two Old Bags) in your thoughts. She died Friday in Rochester. Knitting was the least of her talents. Thanks, WoolyJooly, for passing this along.

*It couldn't have been The Flu. I was only laid up for five or six days. Do not doubt the restorative qualities of a nap in the sun.

What I Did on My October Vacation

2009-10-23T19:58:00.000-07:00

Viewer discretion advised: Today's knitting portion of the show has been pre-empted by travel pictures.

It's been three weeks ago, already, this little getaway. I can only blame [insert all the usual reasons here] for not posting before now -- I'd rather think that I've been in one of those post-vacation time warps. You know, where it seems like forever ago, but really it was just last weekend and there just hasn't been time to post. I don't buy it, either, but I'm trying.

Not being able to go on our yearly trip to Fort Robinson, Neb., we were invited to visit by some friends we've made over the years at the park, and instead go to Wyoming, where one of them is a cattle rancher. Heck ya. And ride, too? Double-heck ya.

There are a few advantages about Wyoming that are, at the same time, disadvantages, such as the four-hour drive from Salt Lake to Daniel –– it allows one to settle in. There are a few advantages to being tall that are, at the same time, disadvantages, such as height. Especially when wedging into a rental car and wondering whether you will be able to get out. Hunkering over the steering wheel did, however, allow me to point and shoot through the windshield. It's OK. I was steering with my belly button. This is near Kemmering along Hwy. 189:

There's a lot of sky in western Wyoming. This is the view from my bedroom at the ranch. Those black dots are cattle; the horizon is Kara's property line:

The first day's ride was at a place called New Fork. When we saddled up, it was 10 degrees, I assume above zero. The weather rallied nicely, and it was nearly 40 by the time we clamored up on a snowy rock for lunch. There aren't many people in these pictures because a) there weren't that many of us and b) I got tired of taking pictures of the backs of heads.

Nothing arty here, just blurry. But it's clear how narrow the trail was at times. That chestnut ear was attached to a very smart mountain horse named Herbie. He was my boyfriend for the weekend.

Copper in the water is behind this loveliness:

The next day's ride was just as fabulous! And we had a larger group, so I had a larger audience when my horse jumped and I had a spectacular crash. After playing it over in my mind a zillion times, it was probably for the best that I came off right away instead of trying to manhandle him back on the path. It would've been a long way down and he already knew what to do to regain his footing. Look at that smart boy – that's him on the right in both photos, carrying the load:

Look! It's the native species! Yes, they really wear chaps.

We're almost done, I promise. On Sunday, given that I was "stove up" –– to use the lingo –– and that it was snowing, we drove up to Jackson for the afternoon. We ate well here and dined like fancy folks here. Trout filled with mushroom and crab stuffing. O. My.

Between meals, we strolled round town and hit some of the shops –– when a stranger walks up and says you look great in a suede jacket, you buy it –– and took a short drive north, past the Elk Refuge. It's where they gather the shed antlers to keep all four of these astounding structures in top form. There's one at each corner of the park in the middle of town.

I would like to think that it was Mother Nature encouraging us to stay another day, but it was merely a fall snowstorm overnight. Come Monday morning, the most difficult part of the drive back to Salt Lake, and our real lives, was the 50 feet of driveway out to the gravel road. Before squeezing in and hunkering around the steering wheel, this was my parting shot:

With luck, and another invitation, it won't be my last one. Thanks to Kara and her family –– and to J.B., keeper of the Advil, to Melanie, keeper of the camera and to Michelle, keeper of good humor and gossip. It was a grand weekend. And now, I know where you live.

It's Fair Time!

2009-09-03T09:56:00.000-07:00

It's one of the most enjoyable evenings of the year, when we go to the Fair. I told someone the other day that it is kinda like a date, only I don't get nervous. We took a round trip on the Sky Ride this year:

We might miss a few things, but we never miss a stop here. These are the best!

It's the Fair. Of course we found one of these. Note the little sign that reads "No Transfats used here." Does anyone in line look concerned?

The keeper of the camera tripped and nearly disappeared into these, the largest hostas on the planet:

This is why people go to the Fair. After making the rounds, it's time to rest the bones, kibbitz and linger. Summer will be over too soon.

It's a Good Thing They're Cute

2009-09-02T13:15:00.000-07:00

Remember this?

It's, um, not that long anymore. Imagine my surprise -- well, not really -- when a HUGE loop appeared on one side, about 6 inches down. Sigh. So, I did what had to be done ... it's nearly all reknit, in fact. And, it wasn't as if it was difficult knitting. It's just YOs, for heaven's sake. Requires a little counting, but that's about it. The likely culprits don't seem to have much to say about it.

The puppy is the newest addition to the zoo that is my house. He's a miniature wire-haired dachshund, about 4 months old now. Henry seems pretty big already to be a miniature anything, so I've been calling him my Tweenie Wienie. He has a bad case of cute:

Yes, there's some cat hair on the dog fleece. That makes me smile:

I gotta thank WoolyJooly for this link. Stunning. Simply stunning.

The Acorns are Falling!

2009-08-20T10:48:00.000-07:00

Nature's BBs is what they are. Get beaned with one or two -- it smarts!

It also means that it's the middle of August. Even if I didn't have a calendar, I would know this: hailstorms of acorns means school will be starting soon, the State Fair will be sooner and that means that summer is nearly over. Already. Too soon! Especially this lovely summer, with its warm sun and lovely breezes. These were sprawled across the back fence a couple weeks ago. I like the bug:

And, my handsome boy. Is that gray in your brow?

Too Many Projects?

2009-07-26T00:08:00.000-07:00

Celtic Memory talked about this in one of her last posts, that the hangover had arrived after (over?)indulging in startitis. If she's like me, she perhaps had reached that point of too many projects, not enough time and if you work on this one, it means you can't work on that one, but maybe you should be working on this other one, in this basket.

If this has never happened to you, a) I'm not sure I believe you, b) but actually, I admire your discipline and dedication; nevertheless c) you might have to offer some verification.

Unlike Celtic Memory, I am not pledging in front of God and the entire Internet to finish all of them before starting another, but I will lay them out and show them for who they are:

First, the Lopi sweater, begun for David this spring. The back is now an inch or so from being done. The poufy crease betrays where it's been folded for the last month or so:

This nondescript clump is going to be this duster, made with Tahki's Quartz, a linen blend. Mine will fit a bit looser and will be left open. This photo picked up a greenish cast — who knows why — the color is similar to honey or straw:

Tah-dah! This is the body of the Gaelic Mist; I've just finished the cable portion, and knocked off part of another row while waiting for these pictures to load.

This bring-along project is the best use I've seen for sock yarn (says the non-sock knitter). It's a skein of Chugiak, a tightly twisted merino from Pagewood Farm. They call it ArmyGirl, but I call it every color of apple that you've ever seen. The colors are so fun! And this pattern is a perfect indulgence. Gotta pay attention, though, with all those YOs.

When I want something soft, soft in my hands, there is this:

The Sugar Jacket, from Marianne Isager's book, Classic Knits. There is not a clunker in this book, and is worth having for that reason. With the size 2s, the garter stitch is saving the day. Can't quite see the colors here, either. I'm using two shades of yellow-green that are just a tick apart. The plan is to make it for the shop. I'd best get crackin'.

But, there is this little diversion:

Meet BoingBoing. He's very busy, except when he's crashed and having a growth spurt. Clover, the grumpy old kitty, has another name for him, but I can't print it here.

Been Gone Too Long

2009-07-23T22:21:00.000-07:00

Oh! It's been longer than I thought. I got distracted by, well, just about everything, I guess. Suffice it to say that the layoffs, contractions and other
bloodletting plagueing the newspaper industry also have been eroding the workings of my employer. The unpleasantness and tension are not interesting to write about, let alone read, so let's consider it a vacation, shall we?

This picture of one of my favorite urchins arrived a few weeks ago:

That's NiNi! Modeling the sweater I made for her several years ago, when she arrived at her new home. Alice Starmore's Mendocino, it finally fits! Clearly, I overshot on the size, but that's all right. Thumbs up to you, too, love.

I found this link in an email buried down in my inbox. Maybe everyone has seen it already. According the message I got, this was filmed on March 23 at the train depot in Antwerp, Belgium. The 200 dancers had rehearsed ... twice. I have no way of verifying this, but it's fun to watch, nevertheless.

Do Not Try This at Home

2009-04-16T22:05:00.000-07:00

No knitting content today. Just this jaw-dropping video (it's about 8 minutes long):

The Easter Bunny Bandit

2009-04-12T18:08:00.000-07:00

Guess who ate the chocolate Easter rabbits.

At least he didn't get sick, even if he probably deserved to.

Some Lopi Love

2009-04-06T11:15:00.000-07:00

Well, here I go again. Another a) cabled b) sweater. It isn't my fault! Whoever gave me the gift card that I've been carrying in my wallet — and they know who they are! — share the guilt. Luckily for one of them, he will also get the sweater. It's an old Lopi pattern from Reynolds. I'm not the only one who likes it; it's also in the Best of Lopi, which in addition to a big ol' juicy TYPO in some display type (not that I noticed), has some lovely things in it.

Knitting notes: There are a couple of errors in the pattern which are easy to sort out. Also, since no one in my house needs to be grabbed around the rear, I skipped the size 9 needles for the ribbing and went straight for the 10.5s. Hang on, I'll show you. I seem to be dogged by some technical difficulties:

There. That's better. Lopi is hardy stuff!

A Recount of My Very Own

2009-03-27T21:02:00.000-07:00

Al Franken and Norm Coleman have nothing on me. I, too, have been counting and counting until I get the result I want. In my case, 298 stitches to set up the body of my Gaelic Mist sweater. Who thought it would be such an ordeal — their situation or mine — to get the necessary number. Unlike them, however, I seem to have gotten on with things:

I was knitting merrily away when I got distracted by a ... book: "The Beach Street Knitting Society and Yarn Club." Unlike others I've read that have knitters as main characters, it's, um, novel, in that neither the characters nor their conversations are wooden and might even border on realistic. They're certainly likeable. The bonus is that the reader does not have to be a knitting knerd to enjoy it (But you do get extra credit if you can identify the yarn and needles on the cover).

This video is making the rounds. Most certainly enhanced in places, but it's worth the work of slogging through this post:

Have a Look at These

2009-03-18T10:45:00.001-07:00

As if there weren't enough distractions from knitting and other important matters. I tumbled to this site the other day while — imagine this — avoiding my long to-do list. wordle.net. It's kinda fun and the results can be cool. Here are two quick ones, using old blog entries:

This video was entered in a contest sponsored by the AARP and won second place. It's brilliant.

Back in My Own Time Zone

2009-03-16T10:31:00.000-07:00

... And having a difficult time resetting the body clock, I must say. But who cares! What a week -- it was fabulous! I could go on for hours, but I will spare the hardy souls who might drop by to read this, so, as I told Judy A., my favorite enabler, here’s a Reader’s Digest version:

The first few days were in Prague. The astronomical clock, Prague Castle, the Jewish Quarter, a concert in the Spanish synagogue, a rabbit warren of an Old Town. We walked everywhere -- and I'm in love with my cowboy boots all over again. Miles every day. Cobblestone streets, uphill, down hill, me and my Ariats. By the way? When you get scolded in Czech, you know you've been scolded. Trust me on this.

A Saturday afternoon in Prague:

The Astronomical Clock. Marionettes of the Apostles rotate through the doors at the top at the strike of the hour. Huge crowds gather and cheer:

And then head off to do whatever it was they had planned.

They do churches and graves very well there. This is a small portion of St. Vitus Cathedral. It's quite pointy.

These two names might ring a bell. Their graves are in the cemetery at Vysehrad, near the Sts Peter and Paul Church.

Naturally, just when I was starting to feel comfortable navigating the streets, it was time to herd everyone into the bus and head for Salzburg. But first, a night in a village called Cesky Krumlov – i had a brief “Under the Tuscan Sun” moment when I saw a few For Sale signs, but came to my senses quickly – Czech makes my brain hurt and I had to admit that, really, what would I do there. Besides, everywhere you go, it's uphill both ways …

This is the WinterReitSchule, on the grounds of the castle overlooking the town. It was the royal indoor riding arena. Wow.

Looking out across the town from the castle. With the exception of electricity, indoor plumbing and cars, not much has changed here for hundreds of years. It's now a UNESCO World Heritage site.

When in Cesky, have a cup of hot chocolate on an outdoor patio, especially on a chilly March day. In the U.S., we have hot milk with some chocolate syrup poured in, there we had melted chocolate with some milk poured in. To. Die. For.

Look how green this ivy was and it was the first couple days of March.

There were a couple of times on the trip when the kids were quiet. The stop at Mauthausen was one of them. The Nazi officers' swimming pool is in the foreground.

The camp is a museum now. The displays were in German, but sometimes translation wasn't necessary.

More than 100,000 people were killed at this camp, worked to death or sent to a gas chamber such a this or executed or tortured -- some prisoners were made examples of by being stripped of their pajamas and killed by being sprayed with cold water on a frigid day. Ice rocks, they were called.

The walls of the room that had the ovens were full of memorials to lost loved ones. This humble display spoke volumes.

The last day or so was spent in Salzburg. I marveled at Prague, but I loved Salzburg. It, like much of Europe, is as old as the hills around it. The city got its name from the nearby salt mines -- but its fame from Mozart and OK. The Sound of Music. The younger brother of Joseph Haydn, Michael Haydn, an accomplished musician himself, also lived here for many years.

We stayed in a family-run pension, a few minutes outside of the city. A room with a view? O ja.

Want to boggle the mind of a teenager? Ask them how many times they think that Mozart used this same tunnel.

He was born on the third floor (4th floor, counting American-style) and lived there until he was about 17. W.A. was on the road alot, so didn't get home much. The guide said he spent half of his life traveling.

There she is, one of my favorite children, striding down the Getreidegasse.

Doe a deer, anyone? This is the lane in the Mirabell Garden that they ran along in the movie. And yes, I did run around on the fountain that Maria and the kids did. No picture, though. Sorry.

This angst-ridden woman was just to the left of the lane. Statuary is another thing Europeans do very, very well.

Recognize this? It's where, in the movie, Maria, the Captain and the kids hid from the Nazis.

And this is where that weenie Nazi wannabe, Rolf, betrayed them:

As for strikke action? Very little. I found one shop, in Salzburg, but it was smoky and the owner didn’t appear to have anything that Sheepy doesn’t carry, not counting the cute Westie napping in the corner. But I did find a couple of knitting magazines, in German naturally, at the Munich airport, and yes, I bought them. Other than one of the other chaperones -- Hi Avis! -- , this woman was the only knitter I saw, in action anyway. She was sitting in a small park between the Prague Castle and the Charles bridge, cranking out a doilie, presumably for sale -- 3 euros, I believe. "Italiano! Italiano!" she said, pointing at herself. When I indicated that I, too, am a knitter, she smiled. It's one of my favorite pictures from the whole trip.

I was glad to get home and squeeze my other favorite child. And now? Back to my real life.

Off Topic, But Important ...

2009-02-26T23:47:00.000-08:00

Another newspaper is going away. Good? Bad? No big deal? It's a discussion for another venue. A sign of the times, certainly, but this one breaks my heart.

— 30 —

Officially on Vacation

2009-02-25T23:49:00.000-08:00

At last. Out of the office for 10 wonderful days. Not only do I get to go out of town, but I get to go here and here as a chaperone on the high school band trip with one of my favorite children. I wish my other favorite child could go, too.

The leading contender for bring-along knitting is this slog:

It's the front edge and collar of my Jo Sharp vest, which will run from the bottom of one edge up and around to the bottom edge of the other side as one (very) long piece. It's a lovely vest, but I gotta say that K1, P1 ribbing gets, um, old. Nevertheless, it will fit nicely into my carryaround bag, so it's coming along. I have these two phrases taped inside my journal:

Existuje přízového shop blízkosti? (Czech)
Gibt es ein Garn-Shop in der Nähe? (German)

I'm leaving room in my suitcase in case the answer is yes. :-)

In the interest of testing my new camera batteries, I intruded on two of my favorite subjects. They're so handsome, even when they're snoring. And I love the afternoon light in the hallway:

We leave Friday night for a packed eight days. I can hardly wait!

OK. I Give Up.

2009-02-24T19:47:00.000-08:00

I've never understood the penchant some knitters have for making odd things: food, Superwoman costumes, reproductive organs.

It isn't a big deal, of course, but I'm curious. Why anyone would waste their time making stupid crap?

Missing In Action

2009-02-15T22:09:00.000-08:00

I can't believe it! I've lost my most-favorite pair of mittens. Blue-green-gray, woolly. Handknit OF COURSE.

And just a bit felted -- the tip of the left hand a slightly different color (insert dye lot speech here).

The horses loved to snuffle them and occasionally tried to eat them. (Hey! Give that back!)

Gone. Since Friday. Pffift! I hope that whoever might have found them wears them in good health.

Brace Yourself

2009-02-04T21:30:00.000-08:00

I spent the day with one of my favorite children, in and out of dentist offices. This is what I have to show for it. It's my last one, I promise. Before:

After:

This is what she has to show for it. Before:

After:

Beautiful smile, honey! Love you!

p.s. I promise to get the car washed this weekend. You should see the other windows.