losing sleep counting sheep

muddy paws

2012-01-27T20:37:00.000-05:00

The weather this winter has been beyond odd. Today it was almost 60 degrees, and rainy (again). I hesitate to complain too much, as we haven't had to battle frozen water tanks, but I am starting to get worried. No frozen ground means no hard frost, and no hard frost means that nasties such as sheep worms and garden fungi are not getting hit hard enough to reduce their numbers. I hate to think what this means for the coming summer.

The other problem with no frozen ground and tons of rain is: mud. Mud everywhere. It is definitely more like March conditions out there.

This means that Dusty can't come along for chores in the morning because he just ends up covered with mud from head to toe, and then we have to rinse him off outside. He takes that cold water from the hose like a champ, but he reserves the right to feel very sorry for himself once inside.

See? See how sad the poor dog is, tied up while he dries off and reduced to using a smelly pair of boy shoes as a pillow?

In case you need a close-up to really appreciate the pathos:

Oh, the (in)humanity! Try not to feel too sorry for him. No chores means he gets a two mile walk/run every morning, so things are quite as bad as he'd have you believe.

by halves

2012-01-26T20:08:00.000-05:00

Today was Halfway Day at Terzo's school: the school year is officially halfway done. The kids were encouraged to dress in a way that celebrated the spirit of the occasion.

He was quite proud of his outfit: half day wear, half night wear. Half camo, half plaid.

And the hair, of course, which he had come up with himself and I helped him execute (although he did try to quit halfway through the process).

I thought he looked like a maniacal leprechaun, but he was well pleased.

time out

2012-01-25T21:21:00.001-05:00

My knitting is in time out.

I know I shouldn't be so angry at an inanimate object, but my current project is really ticking me off at the moment. Two separate starts, two minor rip-outs, and it still isn't right and must be ripped out yet again. All for a project (mittens to match my new red hood) that should have been easy-peasy-quick-and-breezy. Well, there was my FIRST clue, if only I had remembered to know better.

Rather than look at it, I shut it up in the pattern book and let it (and me) stew for a bit. It took me three days to look at it again.

See? See how annoyingly wrong it is, in ways too numerous to count? Perhaps you'll have to take my word for it. But trust me. It is. Or rather, it was. While I was distracted on the phone this morning, I pulled it out from its corner, bit the bullet, and unraveled the whole thing.

Take that, you stinking piece of knitting.

I guess this makes us officially ready to start again. I hope we manage to get off on the right foot this time.

red riding hood

2012-01-22T14:12:00.000-05:00

I am trying to do better blogging about projects as I finish them—I missed so many last year!— but I need to find a dedicated fashion photographer. Things just don't look that great lying on the floor, and there's only so many pictures I can take in a mirror or by holding the camera as far away from myself as possible. The problem is that getting someone around here to take the pictures in a spirit of cooperation and assistance is nigh on impossible. When I do manage to coerce someone into the task, I find that they have taken pictures of me with my eyes closed, or with the actual knitted item halfway out of the picture, or (true horror of horrors lately) focused on the skin of my chin/neck instead.

As ~~payback~~ compensation for the Ethiopian boondoggle, I forced Secondo to come outside yesterday and take a few pictures with what I hoped would turn out to be a lovely snowy backdrop. Instead he took many many pictures of me with the garbage can right behind me, all the while assuring me that the blue spruce was all that could be seen.

I was able to trim out the garbage cans for this project. It is a hooded scarf with cables that is perfect with my dress winter coat, which suffers from a lack of hood.

The buttons came from a great vintage button merchant who vends at the NJ Sheep and Wool Festival. I didn't have a project in mind when I picked these up, but I couldn't resist the different patterns.

You know that when your seven-year-old boy looks up (because he has the perfect perspective) and says, "Wow! Those are really pretty buttons!" that you have some winners.

Speaking of the seven-year-old boy, he managed to convince his father that his foot was well protected in a snow boot, and would suffer no harm from a sledding expedition to the golf course yesterday. He had received a super duper sled for Christmas that was burning a hole in his imagination.

The crew had a great time, and the sled met and exceeded all expectations, until this happened:

And then this, when he fell off the sled and went face-first down the icy slope:

The foot is doing just fine, but his face looks even worse today:

With the bruises and missing teeth (unrelated to sledding), he now looks like he went ten rounds with Tyson. We told him to tell anyone who asks at school tomorrow: "You shoulda seen the other guy." The fact that he is still limping will only add to the mystique.

no snow for you

2012-01-20T21:38:00.000-05:00

It seems our kids have taken a pact not to allow a quiet night on the premises until they all leave for college. Tonight, Secondo and Terzo were playing "hall football" upstairs—a game my husband and I have forbidden on numerous occasions, to obviously no avail. In a sequence of events that is still not entirely clear, Terzo became upset at Secondo, and in revenge, kicked one of the spindles on the hallway bannister so hard that he split the webbing between his fourth and pinkie toe.

It took him a little while to realize he was bleeding, but once he did, he began running in circles while I begged him to stand still. Primo finally caught him so my LSH could take a look—and when he mentioned the word "stitches" the poor kid lost it.

I was in charge of holding him down while they assessed the situation. (Primo was only too happy to assist. The kid has an ironclad stomach.) The dialogue went something like this:

Me: "Take deep breaths. Look at the ceiling. Don't look at your toe."

Terzo: "Help me Mommy, please. No stitches. Please no stitches."

Me: (heart breaking)

LSH: "Gauze please."

Terzo: "Gauze? What's gauze? Is that stitches?"

Me: "No, it's a bandage. Breathe deep. Hold still."

LSH: "Cotton swab."

Terzo: "What's that?"

Me: "A Q-Tip."

Terzo (in complete and total panic mode): "A Q-Tip? What's that? Is that stitches?"

Me: "No. It's what you use to clean your ears. Breathe deep."

LSH: "Put this in the sharps container."

Terzo: "SHARPS??!?!?!?"

My LSH took pity on him, because who wants to stitch up their own kid if there is any way of avoiding it? (Though I should mention it wouldn't have been the first time.) He ended up sterilizing and taping the toes together, with strict instructions to keep weight off it and keep it elevated.

There will be plenty more tears tomorrow when it sinks in that this means he can't play in the first snowfall of the season.

In other "thank goodness that's over" news, a picture of Mr. Ethiopia and their project:

Amy's comment to yesterday's post was eerily omnisicent. The parents of one of Secondo's teammates thanked me today for "all I had done," noting that they had kept asking their own son what he was responsible for on the project. The response was always that my son was taking care of it. Unfortunately, my son failed to communicate that to me. In retrospect, I should have just called Amy.

around the world

2012-01-19T22:55:00.000-05:00

One of the big seventh-grade projects to help them learn geography is a "World's Fair," wherein teams of kids are assigned to represent a country, research the heck out of it, and present it to the entire school.

My son was assigned Ethiopia. (He had asked for the Yukon, but I think he got demerit points for not knowing the difference between a territory and a country.)

This is one of those projects that has dragged on, seemingly forever. I kept asking when the actual World's Fair was due to take place, so I could make sure I did my motherly duty by showing up, and he kept giving me vague non-responses in return.

Until yesterday, that is, on the way to the funeral. We were stuck on the NJ Turnpike in the mother of all backups—we nearly missed the funeral service as a result—and my husband and I were doing our best not to freak the frack out. It was at this well-timed moment that Secondo said, as an aside, that the World's Fair was due to take place Friday. As in tomorrow.

When I questioned him as to the status of his costume and food preparation (because of course they need to bring along a dish from the country), he promptly hit the panic button. My husband begged us to save the crisis for later, once we got through the current crisis, and so we tabled the panic for that afternoon.

There was only one choice for the costume, of course: the thrift store. Lord love the thrift store, I don't know how I would make it through a middle-school education in this town without it. Three brown nehru shirts later (because each kid on his team needed one) and we were somewhat in the ballpark, or at least as close as we were going to get.

Then onto the injera bread. I asked him to bring me the recipe so we could look it over. Thirty minutes later, I tracked him down watching sitcom re-runs on the iPad.

"Oh," he said. "I thought you were looking up the recipe for me."

No jury of my peers would have convicted me for the possible actions that ran through my mind at that moment.

I tackled the ingredient list this morning, calling around from specialty store to health food store to locate teff flour. While I was on hold with yet another place, my eyes skipped down to the instructions, which started "Mix all ingredients together, then allow to ferment for three days."

I knew I was beat. I called the Ethiopian restaurant in New Brunswick, after thanking my lucky stars that there is an Ethiopian restaurant in New Brunswick, and ordered plenty of injera bread to go.

Mama didn't raise no fools. I ordered dinner at the same time. Thank goodness, because I have spent the last three hours correcting such gems as "Addis Adada, the capital city" (it's Addis Ababa; so what's a few flipped letters) and "Gondor, with its castles and ruins" (actually, it's Gondar; Secondo was quite fascinated that they kept turning up images from Lord of the Rings, which does have a Gondor, during their research).

I can't wait to see what the rest of the world looks like.

much sadness

2012-01-17T23:04:00.001-05:00

It has been a very melancholy week here. My husband's beloved aunt lost her long battle with lymphoma early Sunday morning. (This shawl was hers.)

Her loss has been a deeply felt one. She was a true gem of a person, with a gift for making you feel like you were exactly the person she wanted to talk to, just by the way she smiled and said "how are you?" with the emphasis such that she really cared to hear. Her natural warmth and enthusiasm meant she was the life of the party, and I mean that in a good way! My boys were always happy to hear that she was going to be at a family shindig. It didn't hurt that she would talk and play with them as if they were the highlight of her attendance. The card game Mille Bornes was a particular favorite, and I doubt my kids will ever play it without thinking of her.

Her gracious touch in life—and most especially her wonderful smile—will be sorely missed.

lucky me

2012-01-14T21:57:00.000-05:00

Yesterday my fiber group held their annual Yankee Swap, which was postponed from December due to various illnesses and schedule conflicts. I have never made it in December -- unfortunately, I am an occasional member at the best of times -- but January's meeting I could get to! I left with a box of knitting novels and stitch markers... and came back with the most beautiful fiber to spin.

Gale's Art Alpaca 70% Silk 30%

Colorway "Color-Proud Peacock"

Clearly, I got the best of the deal. Now I need to screw up my courage to spin it. I am in the doldrums with my spinning abilities at the moment, and I have never spun alpaca or silk, so this will be a new one for me.

I'm not even putting it away in the storage bin for fiber. Before I can lose my nerve, I am going to just dive in and do my best with it. It's definitely too gorgeous to sit around for long, plus I think it would be the wrong way to treat such luck.

happy babys day

2012-01-12T08:41:00.002-05:00

Today is the baby shower for Terzo's second-grade teacher. Every child was asked to make a card for her. Here's what Terzo came up with:

If you look carefully at the letters,

you can spot little babies cavorting about.

The inside says "I hope you like your present. I made a few of the stitches."

And he did! A few on both hats (before he lost patience with the process; didn't take long). A little bit of second-grade teacher love, knit right in.

a spurt of sprouts

2012-01-08T19:35:00.001-05:00

Terzo's second grade teacher is expecting twin baby girls next month, so off to the Little Sprout pattern I went, this time in pink:

The first one, on the right, seemed a bit too big for a twin, so I ended up making two more in a smaller size. Luckily a friend just got her first grandbaby so it found a home very quickly!

Now I am off to do some truly selfish knitting tonight. I have been giddy all weekend at the thought of the second season of Downton Abbey starting on PBS Masterpiece tonight. Two whole hours of Edwardian era goodness! I have spent every spare moment this weekend reviewing last season on Netflix, and as of 9 pm tonight, I am settling in with a sweater for me on the needles, in front of the big TV, and I don't care what football game I am interrupting. I told you I am being selfish!

selfish knitting

2012-01-07T19:56:00.002-05:00

Again with the knitting jargon: in knitspeak, a selfish knitter is one who knits exclusively (or at least preponderantly) for herself.

I see selfish knitting in a whole different light. To me, selfish knitting is the reason that I am able to retain my sanity on a day to day basis -- and I will be the first to admit that it's a tenuous hold at best. I spend quite a bit of time waiting for people to do this, or accomplish that, or finish whatever. I am very rarely without a knitting project in my bag, and whenever I am presented with a spare moment, I say a silent thanks to the person who gave me the opportunity, and knit away. I can transform any moment from one of frustration at demands imposed upon me, to one reserved just for me and my personal pleasure. Knitting allows me to carve out a tiny bit for myself no matter what craziness is going on around me.

If it weren't for knitting, I suspect I would be a seething mass of resentment and annoyance. As it is, I am able to handle all sorts of delays and dalliances with a spirit of acceptance and aplomb, thanks to knitting -- provided I don't accidentally lose one of my needles under my car seat.

Drive my high schooler and his girlfriend to a semi-formal dance, then wait around for them (because it's too far to go back and forth)? Not a problem. Dance the night away, my lovelies, or at least until the local Barnes & Noble closes.

A comfy chair, hot peppermint tea and knitting:

what more can a girl ask for?

Watch a bunch of second graders chasing basketballs around the gym? Bring it on! I will try to mind when my own child is shooting a basket. Though apparently I don't do as good a job as I might think, as Terzo told me today that I hadn't watched him play yet because "you had been knitting." For the record, I hadn't watched him play yet because I hadn't been there, being otherwise occupied with ferrying the other two around.

That is Terzo with the basketball;

I do pay attention!

As for the selfish knitting part, seems it applies only in terms of my time. The little pink project in both photos? Baby hats for Terzo's second grade teacher, of course, and I wouldn't want it any other way. A mom can only be so selfish.

clear the roads

2012-01-05T20:29:00.002-05:00

It's official. Or rather, Primo is.

The little red decal means we now have a teenage driver with a permit.

I took my first ride with him this afternoon. My LSH and Secondo were very supportive as we pulled out of the driveway.

After my first gentle correction and the not-so-gentle rebuke I received in return, I made a rule: he is only allowed to say "okay" and/or "thank you" in response to my suggestions, or else I won't take him driving. His response (through gritted teeth) was "okay."

Actually, he did pretty well and was such a cautious driver that my biggest concern was that we would get rear-ended. We arrived at our destination a little late, but in one piece. He was highly pleased with himself.

Me, I am making an appointment with the hair salon to cover all the newly-sprouted grey hair.

first f.o. of the year

2012-01-04T20:33:00.000-05:00

(FO = finished object in knitspeak)

I was itching to do some selfish knitting after my Christmas rush, and this Chinook scarf has the distinction of being the first off the needles!

It was from an orphan ball of yarn that I had no idea what to do with... but one of the fun things about trying to knit exclusively from what you already own is that it forces you to view your stash in new and novel ways. And it's hard to tell from the picture, but all points were present and evenly accounted for, so I managed to get that monkey somewhat off my back as well.

The scarf is knit from end to end, starting with 9 stitches and then increased to a midpoint. Thanks to my awesome Christmas gift of a new kitchen scale -- which of course I have only used to weigh yarn -- I was able to figure out exactly when I was at the halfway point on the yarn and start decreasing. The scale was so accurate that I ended up with only about 1 foot of yarn, just enough to weave in the end. But I can truly say that particular yarn is all gone now.

here we go again

2012-01-01T21:10:00.003-05:00

Another year, another list of resolutions. Feel free to skip on to the next post, hopefully not ten days from now (see new resolution number 3). But as I find myself checking back from time to time to remind myself of my goals, guess I'll keep it up.

First to review my progress on last year's goals:

1. Knit more sweaters: I did pretty well on this one. Funnily enough, I knit four sweaters again this year, though unfortunately I only manage to share one on the blog. Two haven't even had pictures taken yet, though I wear them all the time. The other two were gifted away.

2. Buy less yarn: I did okay on this. Not great, but I did manage to knit up about 700 more yards than I purchased, so technically I was in the black. (Hey, my favorite yarn ever was discontinued. What choice did I have but to purchase a few sweater's worth on clearance? Plus I took a little tumble on sock yarn, also my favorite, also discontinued.)

3. Taking better care of the farm business: Nope. I did very little on this one, unfortunately. I actually suffered a bit of a setback as my local outlet went out of business.

4. Keep more organized sheep records: Yep! This was one of those things whereby the year was running out and I still didn't have it done. Rather than having to make it a goal YET AGAIN, I buckled down and got them thoroughly organized. They are now a thing of beauty.

5. More published articles: I managed two more in Piecework magazine, then I ran out of time. Maybe in the future though.

6. More regular exercise: I did pretty poorly on this one until I had my rear end handed to me on a platter by my kids while hiking during our vacation in August. I was so appalled at my lack of ability to keep up with them that I doubled my resolve to get in better shape. The dog and I manage a couple of miles, mostly running, about two out of three mornings. I ran four 5Ks this year, and just today I managed to run a five mile race -- which I still can't believe I did.

So for this year:

1. Knit four sweaters. That seems to be my ideal output: a sweater per quarter. Should also help me with goal number...

2. Continue with the stashdown. I loved how it made me more mindful about what I was adding to the rubbermaid container, and how it forced me to be creative with what I already have.

3. Blog more regularly, or at least back to previous levels. I barely made 100 blog posts this year, which is quite a bit down from prior years.

4. Improve the farm business. This one is crying out for my attention. Third year's a charm.

And last but not least, a traditional one:

5. Eat more healthily. I am doing OK with the exercise end of things, but I need to get better at making healthy choices about what I put into my body as the flip side of that particular coin. So more raw carrots, fewer Wendy's fries with sea salt.

That's it for now! How about you?

antidote

2011-12-30T21:31:00.001-05:00

an-ti-dote:

(noun)

(1) a remedy to counteract the effects of poison

(2) something that relieves, prevents, or counteracts.

I have found the perfect antidote for frustrating lace knitting. Turns out, it is cotton washcloths.

You can churn a finished product out in less than two hours, they are so quick and easy.

You can choose a different stitch pattern for each one.

You can reassure yourself that you really do know how to knit and purl, and follow a pattern.

(Except for when you can't and then their size makes it dead obvious. I had no time to rip this one back and correct it because it was my last gift to finish, literally done one hour before it was gifted.)

Best of all, you can recover from a stressful couple of weeks finishing Christmas knits in a way that doesn't produce a headache, restore your faith in your own knitting ability and eventually contemplate casting on a slightly more difficult project.

Yes, this one is a scarf with little points, though these are worked at the same time that the scarf is knit. Little points, I will master you yet.

a most frustrating knit

2011-12-28T20:40:00.002-05:00

(Before I begin, let me emphasize: the following discussion has nothing to do with the pattern in question, or the yarn in question. It is solely limited to my own boneheadedness and lack of lace knitting experience. The products in question are without fault.)

At the Garden State Sheep Breeders Festival this year, my mother and I had a lovely time strolling around the vendors and admiring their wares together. I may have bought too much sock yarn at the same point, but that is a post for a different day. Brooke, at Twisted Fiber, had a beautiful red shawlette hanging up, made of red alpaca lace, which my mother admired. It so happened that I had that precise yarn in my stash (purchased the previous year, and of course not used yet) and I decided to make the same shawlette for her for Christmas.

I cast on in very good time, around the end of September. My progress was quick and encouraging, as progress on things that start with instructions such as "cast on three stitches" tend to be. You get through those first thirty rows so rapidly, it seems as if the project will be done in an instant!

The pattern is elegantly simple, and right there is where I ran into problems. It seems that after I had 100 or so stitches on the needles, I lost all abilities to (1) follow a simple pattern; and (2) count to any number greater than 100. It got to the point that I began to question whether I really knew how to knit and purl. I finally wrote out every line count of the pattern, all the way to the 99th (and final) row, and obsessively counted each row as I knit. It didn't solve all the problems but it did cut down on them significantly.

At long last, round about December 17th, I got to that fabled 99th row, and my count was correct. I did a little happy jig of Christmas completion (with a week to spare, even!) and turned the page...

And saw that 75 little points had to be knit onto the border.

Lacking lace knitting experience, I neglected to put in a lifeline (i.e., extra thread that will hold your place so you can rip back if necessary without dropping all the stitches) and just plunged in, determined to be done by the end of the weekend. With Bramwell playing away on Netflix, I doggedly worked my way through those darn points. I tried not to cry when I finished, and found that I had 37 points on one side (correct number) and 38 points on the other (incorrect, and errors easily spotted). I thought about ripping out, but due to the lack of lifeline and lack of time, realized it was a fool's undertaking.

I was stuck with what I had. I contemplated my spit of red dog barf, which is what all lace projects resemble prior to blocking, breathed deeply, and finally went ahead with the washing and blocking.

Stretching it out to block it was when I discovered not one, but two, dropped stitches, as they merrily unraveled their way up the shawl. Of course. And of course the errors were that much easier to spot, once I had it all pinned out.

Once again, what choice did I have? It was December 23 at this point. Dropped stitches were repaired. Shawl was wrapped and placed under the tree, once it dried.

And after all that... thank goodness... it still looks perfectly lovely on my lovely mom. But Mom -- whatever you do -- resist the urge to count those blasted points.

falling off the needles

2011-12-23T20:33:00.000-05:00

Irreconcilable differences between my computer and me did not permit a post yesterday... but it did give me more time to get a few more projects done! I have spent so many days working on a bunch of projects, a little bit at a time, that it is nice that they are hitting the "finished" stage, one after another.

First up is an easy-peasy pattern that I made up, "Patch Pocket Scarf." Just little stockinette stitch pockets, sewn up after the fact, with a garter stitch scarf, for my little nephew, which is why it's a bit small on my model.

This one is for a huge Diego fan, can you tell? Unfortunately I couldn't find Diego patches, or even Diego fabric to make patches out of, so I made my own using clip art and the fabric that you put in your printer.

I am a little worried about the effect of rain on the patches, because I used an inkjet printer, but at least I have something to put under the tree. His brother is getting a black scarf with Batman (or as he calls him, "Bacmac") patches. I have about two feet to go. Argh. (I should note that I would never have proposed a scarf as a gift, because holy crow, those things go on and on and on. The scarves were a specific request, however, though the personalized touches were my own.)

Also finished today: another pair of socks for Secondo.

Part of his Grand Champion prize for his felted fruit basket last year was a gift certificate for a very high end yarn vendor. Lo and behold, their sock line shares his first name. It was meant to be. I picked up the yarn at Rhinebeck this year.

And yet another project: a Lego hat for my Lego fan.

You have to squint a bit to get the idea but it is supposed to be Lego bricks with little Lego man faces. I discovered that it is very difficult to make Lego bricks using knit stitches, because they tend to look like castles or little crowns instead. Not sure if this one will get any wear but if not, it can keep the dead fish hat company in the "never to be worn" pile.

I probably won't fit it another post before Sunday, so let me take this chance to wish everyone a very merry Christmas. See you on the back side!

fast and furious

2011-12-21T21:28:00.000-05:00

The title refers to the state of my knitting this week, though thankfully progress is being made! Most gifts are off the needles, a few even have the ends woven in, but the majority still need me to take time off knitting to wrap them.

I did manage to finish one, from start to finish. I was a bit stuck on a gift for my lovely sister-in-law. I had originally planned felted French Press Slippers, but I don't know what I was thinking. Me and felted objects so close to the holidays are a disaster waiting to happen, as evidenced by the four felted tote bags, in various stages of completion, that have yet to be gifted five years after that particular Christmas debacle.

Last night I was helping Primo shop for his girlfriend, and I came across this beautiful soap:

Yes, that is soap, and it smells as wonderful as it looks. Turquoise is her favorite color, so that was a no-brainer. Now, what to put with it? Another no-brainer: hand-knit washcloths, of course. I had the perfect cotton yarn in my stash. Two different patterns, a few hours, a little ribbon, et voila:

Another project to be revealed tomorrow!

red kettle day

2011-12-18T19:34:00.001-05:00

Since the holiday crafting continues more or less nonstop around here, in the faint hope of having it all done in six short days, I find myself planning my day around knittable occasions. My thought process during the morning dog walk/run is all about how I can work on current projects throughout the day to make the most progress.

Complicated knitting? Early morning when the house is quiet.

Sock knitting? Must be done when the intended recipient is nowhere in sight.

Straight garter scarf? Keep that sucker in my bag and knit it everywhere I go: music concerts, in line at the bank drive thru, waiting for kid pick-up, any occasion works.

Yesterday was no exception, part of which was spent watching the 4-H kids take shifts ringing the bell for the Salvation Army. This was the second year in a row for them and I think they enjoy it but at the end of the shifts their feet are so cold that it can be hard to tell.

This was definitely garter stitch conditions, to the extent I could get my fingers to move, but we did get to see Santa drive by in his spiffy red convertible, which definitely added to the holiday cheer!

OK, enough chitchat. Back to knitting. Hopefully I'll have some progress to report in the next day or two.

the slouching trombonist

2011-12-13T22:17:00.003-05:00

We attended the middle school band/chorus holiday concert tonight, and I was interested -- but not entirely surprised -- to discover that my middle child has the worst posture in the entire 7th grade band.

Note the stylish white socks and black shoes combo, too.

I have no idea how he has any sort of lung capacity slouched over like that, let alone how he keeps the trombone slide from hitting the floor.

As an aside, I found this joke when I was checking the correct term for a trombone player:

Q: What do you call a guy who knows how to play the trombone, but doesn't?

A: A gentleman.

brrr-yay!

2011-12-12T22:13:00.000-05:00

It finally feels like the season around here, with hard frosts over the past several days. Just in the nick of time too, because of course I am busy knitting my fingers to the bone for the holidays. It just doesn't seem like Christmas to me unless the ground is hard... clearly I will never be able to live in Florida or Australia.

The knitting has picked up as the cold weather has set in. The current count is:

Two projects (that cannot be named) done.

Four projects (most of which cannot be named) on the needles.

Two projects still to be cast on.

Typing it all out like that... it looks a little grim, seeing as how there are only 12 more days until Christmas. That would mean finishing one project every other day.

Hmmm. All the cold weather in the world may not be enough to save me from my own particular brand of insanity.

bittersweet

2011-12-06T10:12:00.002-05:00

While I was in Rhinebeck, my friend Mel admired the gloves I was wearing.

The yarn, Lana Grosso Chiara, had been a birthday gift from my brother and sister-in-law, along with a suggested pattern. I decided to honor their choice and work it exactly as intended when gifted. The yarn is not something I would have normally picked out myself, and that made it all the more wonderful. I loved working with, loved its slight sheen and halo, and adore the finished result. I even made a cowl to go along with it:

(Pardon the blocking picture, but it is the best way to see the lovely pattern:

Eleanor from Knitty Deep Fall 2010.)

Mel like them so much that I decided to make her a matching pair to thank her for bringing her sheep along for the breed display, two years in a row now. I chose orange because her son goes to Virginia Tech, and she wears a lot of orange and maroon to commemorate that!

Just after I finished the mitts, I heard some very sad news from Mel about her farm. Long story short, she probably won't have sheep to bring next year, which has understandably made her quite sad.

Now the color seems the perfect shade of bittersweet.

telling the story

2011-11-29T20:59:00.000-05:00

A few years ago, I started making digital photo albums for my kids for Christmas, of the previous year. I make one for each boy, and one for Curt and me. This way, I figure, the boys will have a copy to take with them as they (sob!) move on in life.

They have become a tradition in our family. The kids mention each year how much they look forward to seeing them, and during the year I find them paging through the ones I have already made to revisit those memories.

I have been busy working on the album for 2010 this month, in the hope of getting it done by Christmas. It struck me how much this is a labor of choosing how to show them, each year, what I am trying to say: I think this is a good life, and I hope you agree. Your life is full of blessings. You are loved. I hope that is enough.

Like this one I came across today, of my eldest son and his youngest brother in Maine last year:

As they navigate the rocky shores of life, I keep wanting to repeat these messages to them over and over again: Your life is full of blessings. You are loved.

I hope that is enough.

seeing double, knitting double

2011-11-23T22:25:00.000-05:00

It has been a rough week in these parts. My LSH and I have spent every waking hour on a campaign against a new business ill-suited to our town, and I am seeing double with exhaustion. We had a town meeting last night that was somewhat encouraging, but it's hard to know just where this will end up.

Political action is not my usual mode of operation. I am very much a "you have your views, and I'll have mine" sort of person -- though my children may beg to differ -- but that's what happens when you are married to a person who belongs to the opposite political party. I was hoping that, at the very least, the boys would be inspired by my civic engagement. Instead they complained non-stop about the lack of clean clothes and home-cooked meals.

So let's talk about knitting instead, shall we?

I finished my first double knitted project last week, which I think is destined to be a Christmas present for Primo, because it is in his school colors. Double knitting is a technique that allows you to knit the front and back of an object at the same time, producing a reversible item that is actually two layers of knitting.

This was one of those projects I couldn't put down. It was so much fun to watch the pattern develop, even when I had to rip out rows due to mistakes when I wasn't paying enough attention.

Please excuse crappy knitted object photos.

Exhausted, no time, blah blah blah.

But at least the kid is cute.

It took me a while to figure out how to hold the yarn most efficiently for my knitting style. I finally ended up with the picking method recommended by StitchDiva but you can see problems with my tension on the reverse (red) row and I gave up on getting jogless joins on the stripes.

The switch in tension is pretty obvious on this side,

especially the bottom band.

I don't think it really matters though. Secondo and Terzo, both of whom had to lend their heads for sizing, really liked the hat. Of all the hats I have made, this one is definitely my favorite. If you want to try the technique yourself, I highly recommend this pattern, with this explanation of how to work the decreases at the top.

Since this is a late Wednesday pre-turkey post, I'll go ahead and say: Happy Thanksgiving to one and all! I hope you have many things to be thankful for tomorrow.

great little shed

2011-11-20T20:27:00.000-05:00

At the beginning of the summer, I tried to head off the inevitable claims of boredom (as if that's possible!) by suggesting that the boys build a little shed in the one fenced field lacking shelter. I was embracing the 4-H "learn by doing" philosophy, perhaps a bit too naively.

They enthusiastically ordered me to take them to the Home Depot, picked out their own lumber and supplies with great excitement, and assured me they (mostly Primo) had it "all planned out in their heads."

A few days later they marked the boards and got their father's help to cut them up.

There was much enthusiastic hammering and drilling and such, and they managed to get three sides up in pretty short order... and then they hit a brick wall, planning-wise.

In other words: the roof.

It sat there for a few months, and as the end of summer approached, I started to panic a bit. I suggested they consult our building guru, aka my father, to get some advice on getting a roof on the darn thing. My dad, initially thrilled to be asked, had no idea what he was getting into.

He came and took a look at their first effort and told them to take the entire thing apart. Because he is their grandfather and not their parent, they obeyed without one word of protest. Plus I think they realized that they really, really needed his help.

He returned for quite a few days to guide them in the proper construction of a little shed.

They even shingled the darn thing!

Today the weather was finally dry and warm enough -- and more importantly, we weren't running all over the state from activity to activity -- that they were able to get it painted before winter hits.

I even caught Kali and Kevyn in it the other day when it was raining. I wouldn't swear by my kids' ability to build another one on their own, but I sure am grateful for my father's rescue on this one.