The Un-Gorey Dyeing Adventure

I've never deliberately dyed anything. Ok, that's not strictly true: I tried to dye a really ugly, faded black dress darker black. It didn't work. I've also dyed my hair. Black. That worked. Trying to put purple on top of dyed-black hair, however, did not work (I'm sorry to say that I have never had purple hair and now I'm too old. I'm keeping my figures crossed for my nieces and nephews to dye their hair crazy colors. I promise to encourage this behavior).

Last night, I finally engaged in some deliberate dyeing behavior. Several years ago, I came across a recipe for Penny Dye, in which you combine 1 part ammonia, 3 parts water and a bunch of pre-1982 (higher copper content) pennies in a jar, let it sit for a couple of weeks, shove in some wool, let it sit and then pretty colors happen. This summer I bought 3 or 4 skeins of a merino/silk lace weight yarn with this dye in mind. I wasn't entirely convinced that it would work, since the recipe calls for wool and I had a 50% silk combination, so I used a small cone of Jaggerspun Zephyr (which is either the same stuff or pretty damn close).

A couple of weeks ago, I combined my ammonia, water and pennies and came up with this:
Pretty, stinky, blue water.

Here is the yarn before dyeing. The recipe says to shove it into the dye and leave it there for 30 minutes, or until the yarn reaches the desired shade, or until the water becomes pale....



....which happened pretty much immediately. I left it in there for a while and swished it around.

In case you are wondering: ammonia is really stinky. Just sayin'

Finally I gave up and took the yarn out of the stinky, not-blue-at-all water and rinsed and rinsed. And finally had this:
The two skeins on the ends went into the stinky blue water first. The color changes were really interesting: while the yarn was in the stinky water it was a really pretty gray-blue. Once it hit the air it turned gray-green (that's the color this is, even though you can't really see it). My thinking was that the color difference between the skeins was so different that I would overdye all of them, or one or two of them. Then the color started to even out. At least it seemed like it was evening out, so I decided to live with it and throw everything into a vinegar bath (which I guess sets the color). At which it all turned sea green. (I don't have a picture of that, because, well, my camera sucks and doesn't represent color well anyway.) The dark skeins got a little lighter and the light ones got a little darker.

I wouldn't be surprised if the skeins have turned purple by now. Strange strange stuff that Penny Dye. I think I will wait until this summer before I decide whether I'm going to dye the rest of the yarn. God knows I don't need anything more to knit!

More Judy, you ask?

Of course we're obsessed with Judy...





Who wouldn't be?

Horrible Edward Gorey Death

Too bad it's not the gin death, but "fits" work too:


You will perish of fits.
Repeat this to yourself: "Things can work out even if I don't get my way. Things can work out even...."

What horrible Edward Gorey Death will you die?
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Missing Pictures & Jarhead

Drat! I was planning to have progress pictures today, plus Judy pictures (who can resist?), but my crummy camera was wiped clean. I did manage to bring my woven shawl with me to work, so I'll just post some pictures of that:



Doesn't that last picture make you a little dizzy? I can see some treadling mistakes, but...meh. Who cares?

I'll try to have other pictures tomorrow. That is, if I'm here. Len was really sick yesterday with some sort of stomach flu. Stomach flus are usually food poisoning, but I've heard of several people having been down with the same thing (nauseous, hot flashes, chills, achy joints, etc.), so I'm thinking flu. And now I'm starting to feel the same way. Might just be sympathy stomach problems, though.

Jarhead
Carrot wanted to know what I thought of Jarhead (which I finished quite some time ago, just so you know I am not the world's slowest reader, just the slowest reviewer).

Mostly, I thought it was very good. The parts I didn't like so much I think were editing choices I didn't really understand. Swofford tells a fairly long story of an affair he had with a Japanese girl; by this point in the book he has established his girlfriend back in the States as a cheatin' 'ho. I couldn't help but feel that the story was to say that maybe he was a bit of a 'ho too, but at least he was romantic about it, and anyway, he was overseas, so it didn't count the same way as a girlfriend cheating while he's overseas. Whatever. I found that whole story pointless.

Otherwise, something I find interesting about war novels/memoirs is how similar the experience is from war to war. Ultimately war is utter boredom, broken up by moments of sheer terror. The first Gulf War wasn't an exception. What was an exception was how bloodless on the American side the war was. Swofford makes it very clear, gruesomely clear, that wasn't true for the Iraqis. He has some interesting speculations about the effect that difference has on him while he is there, then later when he is writing the book.

He is a smart guy and it is a smart book.

Odd trivia bits

Mostly geaned from that paragon of the odd moments in the week's news: Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me (why yes, I am an NPR nerd).

1. NASCAR and Harlequin Romance have teamed up for a licensing agreement. Why not? NASCAR (and really, most sports) always struck me as a bit of a soap opera anyway..

2. Bush is against human/animal hybrids (first paragraph). That's nice.

3. This one is from This American Life: Do you remember that "Chocolate city" broohaha from New Orleans Mayor Nagin. Apparently, he's down with the funk, 'cos that was a Parliament quote:
"Ah, blood to blood
Ah, players to ladies
The last percentage count was eighty
You don't need the bullet when you got the ballot
Are you up for the downstroke, CC?
Chocolate city
Are you with me out there?"
(see also the Wiki entry. Not that I endorse Wiki, but I'm not doing anymore research on this little piece of trivia).

4. Because this one is the best one of all: In his former career, Jack Abramoff was a Hollywood producer. He produced (and co-wrote!!) that Dufus Lundren shlock-fest (ok, I didn't see it. Maybe it was great. I don't know. I don't really care.) Red Scorpion. Yep. Rippling muscles, blonde brush cut fightin' them evil commies in Angola. What's not to love? Better yet. The studio fired him because he used South African (Apartheid) army as a source of extras and equipment.

5. It seems like there was at least one other thing, but I don't remember what it was

Fun with weaving

I'm convinced (or I am trying to convince myself) that someday weaving will be fun. Maybe with my very next warp! Because my last warp? Not. Fun. At. All. Beginning to end, there was nothing fun about it, except the colors are pretty. I have no pictures of this warp because, 1. it didn't deserve to be dignified with documentation, and 2. I keep forgetting I can take pictures.

Here is a list of what went wrong:
1. Mismeasured one pair of warp ends. I was following this very nice zig zag pattern on the measuring board and discovered when I pulled off one set of the warp that I hadn't bothered to follow the pattern for one pair, just went to the end of the first set of pegs and back. Even I knew it was easily fixed, but I should have been forwarned.

2. Missed a dent. Luckily it wasn't that far from the edge, so I didn't have to move half the warp.

3. I decided to throw in a couple of repeats of the weft color into the warp (ivory warp, pale teal weft). I had planned on using a 22 end (or whatever that's called in weaving) repeat, had calculated out the number of ends, plus 2 floating ends. When it came time to measure the warp, I did 13 ends ivory, 12 of teal, a whole bunch of ivory, 12 teal, 13 ivory (in two parts since there were lots of ends). Only when I pulled out the draft did I realize that the stupid repeat was 22! Not! 12! @%!#$!!! Fine. I'll choose a 12 repeat.

4. A couple other things went wrong with the threading, resulting in discovering I had miscounted my ends. All easily fixable (because of going from the 22 repeat to 12 I had come extra ends hanging off the front end of the loom).

5. Had a terrible time getting the tie on to the front apron to come out evenly.

6. About 6 inches in, it turns out, I may not have miscounted the warp ends. I just had !$%#$ing threading errors. At least three. Whatever. Too late now.

7. About halfway through weaving, one of my floating ends began fraying and pulling apart. I finally had to abandon it and throw it off the end.

8. Finally! Here comes the back apron rod! Almost! Done! Nothing more can go wrong now! Ha! The warp started untying itself from the back rod. First one bundle. Got that tied back on. Then another. Got that back on. Weave fast so it doesn't have time to happen again!

Whew! Done. Now I'm braiding the ends. Will wash it tonight. Maybe I'll set Len loose on it with his bb gun. He'll probably refuse.

And Stef? I measured another warp last night. Be proud.

Cotton dishtowels. Plain weave. What could go wrong?

heh.

Knitting Agenda

See, I'm making up for not posting in a few days (and then only whining).

Now that I've finished the sweater and scarf, my knitting line-up has changed. Here are the major projects I'm working on right now (any and all of these are subject to abandonment at any time). I'm just posting little pictures because they are really crummy.

This is a scarf I'm making for my Mom. This is proof of how much I love her: I don't like knitting scarves, and I despise intarsia (the squares). The yarn is some kind of baby alpaca (if I were a better person, I would have remember to bring the label and tell you what kind exactly). I thought random squares would be more interesting to knit (and to look at) than stripes, so there you are. Squares. A note on the needles: they were my grandmother's. I don't think she ever used them (unless she put them back in the package (possible with Brittanys). Actually, they are the best Brittanys I have, the tips are sharper than any others I've had.

This is the very beginning of a cardigan called Storm. Why is it called Storm? I don't know, it's from Rowan, the names for their patterns are generated randomly, I think. I can't find the book the pattern is in (again, bad blogger), but the yarn is Jo Sharp DK wool, Maple. I don't know how I feel about the color (which you can barely see), sometimes I love it, sometimes I hate, but the yarn was half off, so it had to be bought.

Socks for Len. The color on this picture is really bad: they are not this bright, and are much more green.




And finally, we have a very crumpled up, sad looking Daffodil. This gets knitted on when I need something to keep my mind occupied; also, because it is cotton, when Len gets the temperature in the house over 75 degrees (due to the vageries of our wood burning stove). I'm pretty sure I'll be knitting on this until I am 80.

Two Finished Things

Ok, you've seen them before, but I'm really happy with them:

Here is the Arabesque, being all graceful. The edges still have a slight tendency to fold over, but the scarf isn't curly anymore, and it doesn't bias they way it did before blocking. Blocking is insanely boring, but so very crucial to lace.

Proof that the River Grass Gansey has two sleeves and a collar.






Here's a close up of the collar. This is the best collar I have ever done. Had I been thinking clearly when I started the shaping for it, I would have done it differently. I usually don't do well at picking up the stitches for collars -- I end up with gaps and stretched out stitches -- but this time, it's beautiful.

That sound you hear is my creaking bones as I pat myself on my back.

The Tragedy...

...is that I am allergic to the two cutest creatures ever. They aren't wrestling, they are passed out. On each other.

Allergies

"Maladies
Melodies
Allergies to dust and grain
Maladies
Remedies
Still these allergies remain"
--Paul Simon**

About five years ago I found out that I am allergic to cats, dust mites, and ragweed (whatever that is). Now, if you spend any time at all on this blog, or talking to me at all, you may realize what a tragedy the cat allergy is (and frankly dusting is a pointless exercise in futility, so I have quite a lot of dust mites in my house as well, and I imagine that ragweed, whatever it is, will survive nuclear war and is unavoidable). Luckily, salvation was found in a pill. Claritin-D 24. It can be hard to find, especially now that everyone is afraid of the key ingredient (pseudoephederine), it can be expensive, but it made my dusty life with felines possible.

Until lately. In the last few weeks I have been headachy, had a slight sore throat, painful sinuses, something gross, and I've been *exhausted*. It has slowly dawned on me: The Claritin-D 24 no longer works. At. All. Ever.

I have an appointment with an allergist on Tuesday. Let's all hope for a fast resolution because I can't live like this (and neither can Len).

** The above quote is from "Allergies" on 1983's "Hearts and Bones", about which a friend of mine once called "the standard by which I measure all songwriting". Maybe a bit of an overstatement, but "Trains in the Distance" might one of the greatest songs ever written about love and loss. And what else is there to write about? Besides allergies. "Two disappointed believers/Two people playing the game/Negotiations and love songs/are often mistaken for one and the same" and "The thought that life could be better/is woven indelibly/into our hearts and our brains". Which is why, after all of the heartbreaks, the disappointments, the bad dates, the sorrow of it all, we keep falling in love. We keep coming back for more.

Could be masochism, too.

Finished!!

And I didn't run out of yarn!


And here is Simon trying to help me block it. Actually, he thinks that there is a lovely green bed available to him, it will take him a few seconds to discover that it is soaking wet and not at all comfortable. I left the picture small because enlarging it doesn't improve it, it's a crummy picture, but it shows that there are two sleeves, so that's something. When the sweater is dry (since it's mostly cotton, I have my doubts about it happening anytime soon), I'll take better pictures.

Remember my knitting goals? So far I have finished the sweater, the scarf and have fixed the two pairs of socks. That's three out of five, not bad, eh? I've also started a pair of socks for Len and will work on starting a hat for him soon.

More knitting

Progress on the River Gansey continues. I'm not posting a picture because, well, not much has changed, looks-wise. Just click on the link and imagine the sweater with another sleeve, and there you have it. I'm about an inch from the cuff, then I have the neckline to do, then some weaving in of ends (not many, I have been doing that dreaded task all along), then I'm done. Love those seamless sweaters!

The problem is that I might not have enough yarn to finish. I'll stop by the yarn shop today in hopes that she has the Cotton Fleece in Jungle Green (and that the dye lot will be close enough). I have enough to get through the sleeve, but probably not for the neck. I figure if the dye lot is close, it won't be very noticeable (it's shadows, not a different color!)

Other news
Well, not really, more like non-news. There is still no word on the reporter kidnapped in Iraq. Jill Carroll is from Ann Arbor, I didn't know her -- she graduated from Huron (the "other" high school) and is about 10 years younger than me. It turns out, though, that my step-mother Linda worked for her father many years ago, she and my dad knew her and her sister as "cute, giggly teenagers". That detail along makes the story more than just a rotten news item.

Negotiations

Len is a social-phobe. There might be a better way to put it, but I don't think so. He is a very friendly, and in many ways very agreeable man. When you meet him, it's hard not to like him. But the thought of meeting new people or of being in a crowd (even of those he knows and loves) fills him with horror. He gives a lot of excuses -- he doesn't like people to see the house while it is less than perfect, he had to work 14 hours today, he will be dirty from his "toilet cleaning job" -- and while all of these excuses will be true to one degree or another, they don't really get to the heart of the matter. He finds being around People extremely difficult. There are a few exceptions, but very few.

He can be talked into gatherings, but it takes some delicate convincing, some putting up with complaining and moaning. At the end of it, he may say that it wasn't so bad, fun even. But it will be just as hard the next time. I hope that over the years, the process will become less difficult, that he will become less sensitive to the company of strangers, but I'm not really counting on it. He is who he is.

And the thing is: I wouldn't be with him if I weren't like him. I generally get my social fill at work and don't have a great need for more. I don't like parties, I'm not especially good at meeting and greeting, I don't know what to talk about. It can all be very taxing, and I am happy enough to hole up in my house and not go out for long stretches of time.

As it turns out, I am an exception in my family (my father is another). My mother and my siblings are all very gregarious and very social. My brother and sister-in-law have been known to host 15 people at the drop of a hat. Until Len, I've only had my own boundaries to protect, and I wasn't always good at it, but now I have his boundaries, too. This can leave me in a very difficult, very vulnerable place, one in which there is no right answer, and I am the one who ends up miserable.

I don't know how to mediate between the two. I don't know how to say "no, that isn't possible" without Len coming off as an asshole. I don't know how to say "yes" without Len's fears being masked by anger. How do I not be in the middle?

Random Judy Picture

Just because she's so cute!!

Arabesque

I took a short break from the sweater to finish my lace scarf. I'm quite proud of it, my mistakes are limited to those I can barely see (a few extra pairs of yarn-overs - the holes), otherwise I think this ended up being a really nice marriage of yarn (silky merino from Blackberry Ridge) and pattern (from Marianne Kinzel's Second Book of Modern Knitting).

This is before washing and pinning out (blocking). It's all scrunchy and the edges are curly.

This is partway through the pinning process. I worked pretty hard at pinning it out evenly: I determined the width the scarf wanted to be (about 11") and drew a very long rectangle on brown paper (I have rolls of this stuff lying around from Christmas). I then decided the squares wanted to be 5" and pinned that interval. Then I pinned the center edge of each square (at the top of the leaf)....

...then I pinned pretty much every row, resulting in a lot of freakin' pins.

Here is Gwen "helping". Gwen usually thinks of blocking time as "love mememememe!!!" time. It should be sweet. But it isn't.

And here is a close up of the lace. Pretty, huh? (Happily, I managed to not take a picture of one of my mistakes!)

Mr. Karr's Rules

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that the mark of a great teacher is when a student remembers what you taught 22 years later, and applies it every day. In my case, this was my driving instructor. Mr. Karr. Need I say more?

Today I found it necessary to apply the "never trust anyone who is waving you through" rule. My route to work includes a left turn off of a five lane road (including a left turn lane) which can occasionally be dicey. Today I got to the turn just as on the on coming traffic got very heavy. A couple of people tried to be nice and stopped to let me through. The problem was that the lane on their right wasn't stopping for anything. The second guy actually blinked his brights at me to indicate that it was fine for me to turn, meanwhile cars are whizzing by him on his right. He threw me a pretty withering look as he passed. Whatever. I might survive someone smashing my passenger side at 40 MPH, but my car wouldn't, and I like my car.

Some other Mr. Karr rules:
+ Don't go where you don't fit.
+ Use your turn signal, and use it correctly: don't turn it on halfway through the turn or a block and a half away from your turn.
+ Don't trust someone else's turn signal. They may not know the above rule.
+ Don't run red lights.
+ Pay attention to what is going on around you (my sister remembers him asking what color the car behind her was, while covering the rearview mirror).
+ Pay attention to the speed limit.
+ Don't tailgate.

If more people followed Mr. Karr's rules, driving would be a much more pleasant experience. This is not to imply that I am a great driver, my attention span is really bad and I do make some boneheaded moves, but I try to follow Mr. Karr's rules.

A Boatload of Books

My mom gave me a gift certificate to Barnes & Noble. I think she muttered something about not knowing what TV Series to get me for Christmas so she went with a G.C. (I think the "C" actually stands for "Card", but, whatever...I still buy RECORDS forgodssake!) I thought their media (dvd and cd) were pretty outrageous, so I bought books. Lots of books:


(Click on the picture to see B&N's information about the book). Zadie Smith was on the Diane Rehm Show 12/29/05 (this was a rebroadcast). I actually wanted to get her first book, White Teeth, but neither B&N or Borders have it in stock (I had the same problem with another book: the author has a new book out, and I can't find previous paperbacks. Very irritating.)



I bought this one for Len (at his request). He hasn't made it through Infinite Jest (I'm pretty sure the title is a play on the length, it's over 1,000 pages!) but this is a collection of essays. Maybe I'll pick it up, too, but I doubt it (I have way too many others to read).




I love Jane Austen. This one looks like a pretty light read (which, after the carnage of Jarhead, might not be such a bad idea!)





I also bought Kurt Eichenwald's Conspiracy of Fools (Blogger isn't letting me upload the picture, for some reason). I'm looking forward to reading about the moronitude of people who have way too much money and think they are a whole lot smarter than they are (to their own downfall, and tragically that of their employees and shareholders).

There was one more, but I can't think of what it is at the moment. So now I am buried in knitting and books. What could be better?

Christmas Boot

How cool is it that I have a boyfriend who can pick out the prettiest boots on the planet? So cool!

Sweater Progress

Ok, I know you all have been waiting with bated breath: yes, the sleeve looked fine on it's owner (the cuff was pretty tight, so I took that out and re-knit it on larger needles), so I have now picked up the sleeve for the other sleeve. I guess that's sort of hard to see from the picture taken with the Not-So-Wonderful-but-FREE!!-Digital Camera.

Here is a picture of the finished sleeve. Gwen's feet are in the far upper right corner. By the way, if something goes terribly awry and my Dad can't wear the sweater, the cats will be very happy to make it their bed. Especially Judy. Judy loooovvvees the sweater.

Random Object

I found this outside of the Law School right before Christmas. And no, I am not too young to know what it is...and I am old enough to know better than to stick it in my ear!

Simon's Little Adventure

Simon (the big one in the picture) doesn't usually ask to be let outside. He likes to sit in windows and smell the air, he likes to greet us at the back door when we come in, and he spits at birds and squirrels in some demented effort to act like he is still wild, but he doesn't act like he realizes he could actually be outside. Outside doesn't seem like it's a place to him, it's a picture.

On the other hand, when presented with the opportunity, out he goes, where he likes to pretend like he knows what he is doing. But he doesn't really. 'Cos he's kind of a dumbass.

All of the cats had disappeared on New Year's Eve, what with the people and the dogs and the noise. Around 2:00 the next day, Len decided they had been in hiding for long enough and managed to get Gwen and Judy to come out and play. He could not, however, find Simon, and we finally determined that he must have gotten out; we searched all over the property, up and down the road (the main reason we don't let the cats out is because of the road), where he was not, thank god, lying dead. No where. He was not to be found.

Len was freaking out. While Simon has never been out for very long before, I wasn't as concerned because I have had cats who have disappeared for long periods before, so I knew he would come back. Len was blaming himself, since he invited the friends with the dogs and he thought they had chased Simon out. We had to go to my parents' house for dinner, while there we made Missing Cat posters, even though I fully expected him to be waiting for us when we got home (poor Len was not to be appeased).

And of course he was. As I walked up to the porch, there he was, crying pathetically underneath. I had to drag him out, but he was home, safe and sound.

Gwen yelled at him all that night and most of the next day and Judy...Judy was more enamoured than ever.

It's Judy!!!

It seems the kitten's name is Judy. This was actually the second name Len came up with, then we spent a week running through names. The other night I started calling her Alice, at which point he decided he really preferred Judy. We don't know how she feels about it, she ignores us. Except when we are eating, then she channels The Kitty.

Tower of Cats

Kill the Fish!

Gwen's Reaction (Why? whywhywhy?)

Simon's Reaction (I crush you, you are a leeetle bug...right after I wash my leg)

Sleeve

Here is a picture of the sleeve.

Something you should never do

You should never. EVER. go running at night, on a country road with no sidewalks, when the shoulder is covered in snow, in a dark purple running suit. You are the color of the road. The tiny, dirty reflectors on your wrists? They don't help.

Just sayin'.

Progress on River Grass Gansey

Last night I got to the point on the sleeve that I can start the cuff. I am having some issues.

(This is someone else's picture of the finished sweater {it's from the book}, I'm using it to illustrate what is going on.)

The sleeve is supposed to be 16 inches from where it meets the shoulder (which is actually a little way down the upper arm) to the cuff -- by this point, according to the pattern, I am to have decreased to 79 stitches. I am just over 16 inches and have decreased to 83 stitches. I can live with having extra stitches: I need to decrease a bunch of stitches when starting the cuff and can throw in a few more. The big problem I am having is that there are two rates of decrease: on the upper part of the sleeve (where all of the patterning is), I was to decrease two stitches every 8 rows, in the lower part (where there is just the braid), I was to decrease two stitches every 3 rows. This creates a very steep angle at the lower part of the arm and makes a very sudden transition between the two halves.

What I am thinking is that I will finish the cuff and then have Dad try it on. It may be that the rates of decrease just look stupid when lying flat and will actually be fine when on (I could find a photo that shows the inside of the sleeve, so I have no way of knowing). I'm not really counting on it. If it does look bad, I will figure out a more evenly distributed rate of decrease and test it on the second sleeve, before... ripping out the first one and re-knitting it.

Why yes, that does mean I'll be knitting three sleeves. And trying to recall High School Geometry (a sleeve is a modified triangle of some sort after all).

Oh well. This sweater seems to exist to be ripped. Last winter I ripped it back to the ribbing after I'd gotten halfway up the body (I either screwed up the cable crossing and tried to maintain the mistake, then screwed that up. Or I just thought I did and then freaked out and ripped it out. Whichever.)

The Kitty

The Kitty was not the epitome of feline grace. She had been rescued as a young cat by a former co-worker of Len's many years ago, her left eye having been shot out b.b. gun. When Len took her over about five years ago she developed a tumor, which turned out to be cancer. An X-Ray taken at that time turned up a b.b. in one of her hips. She was stone deaf, de-clawed, and she didn't weigh more than 4 pounds.

The Kitty liked great heights, but regularly fell off of them: she would have preferred to sleep on top of the television (about 3 feet off the ground), but the sound of her hitting the floor was so sad that we put a small stack of books on top of it, so she slept on the DirecTV receiver instead (about a foot lower, but a little wider, so she didn't fall off as often). When she died, she took the receiver with her: it seems she couldn't get down in time when she had to....mmmmm...evacuate. So she did it on top of of the receiver.

Her original name was Cleo, but Len didn't like it, so he always called her The Kitty. She was deaf so it didn't matter much to her. The Kitty seemed to fit her better anyway, she always believed she was The Only One. Neither of the other cats in the house were worth anything. If they got too close she would try to rip their faces off. Simon (the 16 pound football player cat) shrugged off her attempts. Gwen (the neurotic 14 pound cat) was afraid of her. She would attack visiting dogs, as well.

When it came to food (especially pizza), she could muster the agility of a gymnast and the speed of a sprinter. Since we don't have a dining room or eat-in kitchen, we eat sitting on the couch. We had to guard our dinner vigilantly, lest she run off with it, she would stand with her tiny little paws on our chests looking for an opportunity to steal food from the fork. She was relentless.

The Kitty died in October. She waited until we left for vacation and made our friends, Keith and Stef handle the details.* We buried her in the garden, next to the greenhouse and planted daffodils on top. Cheerful flowers for a not-very-cheerful cat. We miss her very much.

*They did this with grace and tact, and we are eternally grateful..

Stanley Tookie Williams

Stanley Tookie Williams was executed at 12:01 this morning. I don't know whether or not he was innocent of the murders for which he was convicted -- he and his supporters say he was, the prosecutors, judges and jury say he was not -- he certainly was not innocent of unleashing the violence of the Crips.

There are a lot of arguments against the death penalty. That it is inherently racist. That it does not prevent crime. That it does not really provide closure for the victims' families. That it takes too long and costs too much. That a society that kills people cannot take the moral high ground. Etc. etc. (see especially Dead Man Walking by Sister Helen Prejean).

But, for me, what it boils to is this: are human beings ever capable of redemption? Or are we only as good as the worst thing we've ever done?

I hope Arnold Schwarzenegger is visited by ghosts every night for the rest of his life.

But Will She Eat Pizza?

Dad's Sweater -- A Progress Report

The River Grass Gansey

I'm actually a little further along on the sleeve than when this picture was taken, but this is a pretty nice picture of how it looks (the green is a little brighter).

And, yes, that is Black Label beer next to the sweater, and no, I was not drinking it, I have much better taste than that! The boyfriend has the lousy taste in beer. I do have to say, though, in defense of Black Label: the logo design is Classic. Too bad the contents are swill!


Here is a close up. The pattern is from Jamieson's Shetland Knitting 2.

I'm knitting this with Brown Sheep Cotton Fleece using #5 needles. I chose the yarn because my dad find wool sweaters very warm (even though he and my stepmom keep their house quite cold), and I was hoping the cotton/wool blend in the yarn would counteract the weight and "stringy-ness" of 100% cotton. It is, however, pretty heavy, which makes me nervous (will this sweater eventually stretch to Dad's knees? Tune in later..) The shoulders are already put together, and don't seem sturdy enough to support it, so I intend to reinforce them. Otherwise, I really like the sheen of the yarn and how well it shows off the patterns.

It looks to me like the sleeve will done by Christmas. I love knitting them from the top down because the number of stitches are decreasing, which always makes the knitting go faster!

Wool Scarf Heresy

When I got to work today it was 8 degrees (and now it has gone down a degree, so now it is freakin' *7* degrees). It was just as cold yesterday, so I decided to pull out my wool scarf.

Here's the thing. I've been avoiding getting this scarf out, not because it's ugly, it isn't -- it's really quite beautiful (if I do say so myself). I made it out of a Berroco wool/rayon (and if I were a better blogger, I'd go research exactly what yarn it is, but I'm not going to do that now), in this really deep, dark steel gray. It's a very long, cabled scarf (my yarn shop had a sample of a Berroco-designed cabled scarf, and while I liked their scarf very much, I just can't pay $10 or more for a pattern when I can pick my own cables, thank you very much), and I knitted this thing for years (I hate knitting scarves, remember?) I love this scarf. I really do.

But....here's the heresy: it itches. Yes, I said it. It *itches*! In Fiber Snot-head World those are fighting words. Well, arguing words, because I *did not* say I am allergic. I don't get welts, I don't swell up, in fact, I can wear wool next to my skin below my waist without a problem. But sweaters, scarves, and hats? *Itchy*!

Now, hats have the additonal "hat-head" problem, so I don't tend to wear them anyway (except in the most dire circumstances), and sweaters can (and generally should) be worn with a layer underneath (although, I do have a sweater that itches even with a layer under it, but I suspect the wool isn't great). But, usually this means turtlenecks. I hate turtlenecks. And scarves have to be worn next to the neck, or they just don't keep the cold out. So they itch, and I suffer.

Truly this is a sorrowful state of affairs. Because I love wool, I want to wear it easily, I don't want to avoid my scarf. But there you are. I'm a heretic. Wool itches.

A Bit on Jarhead. And knitting

Would last comment be....hmmm..The Flaming Carrot????

I haven't seen the movie yet (I also have a little thing for a GOOD war movie, and "Platoon" doesn't count). The New York Times main complaint was that it is "cold", the way "American Beauty" is cold. And since I didn't find "American Beauty" cold, at least not in a bad way, I suspect I may like the movie of "Jarhead". In any case, if you haven't already, you must see "Three Kings". That's a great movie.

In the book he hasn't gotten to the war yet. My irritation with Swofford's writing I think has to do with his inexperience as a writer (and editor). He doesn't seem to keep a consistent voice and sometimes gets weirdly romantic.

Knitting

I got a few inches done on the sleeve for my Dad's sweater on Saturday, but didn't get any knitting done on Sunday. Nothing. That's just wrong. It worries me that I won't get the sleeve done by Christmas. I'd post a picture of the sweater, but I'm stuck in the dark ages of film, so I haven't anything current.

Instead of knitting I started to measure a warp for a loom. This warp should hopefully eventually become Something. Like a shawl to keep me warm when my office is cold. Maybe.

Gratuitous cat picture
Because we miss her...

The Kitty
????-2005

More books

I had said yesterday that I would post about what I am reading now, and so early in this blogging thing, I should try to keep my promises!

So right now I am reading two books: Jarhead by Anthony Swofford and A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson. I'm not far enough into either of them to render very much of an opinion.

However, since I am an opinionated gal, I'll say a couple of things. First, I always like a good war memoir, and so far I am liking Jarhead, for the most part -- sometimes the way he uses language rings a little tinny. I like the way it is constructed, in very short, sharp chapters. I could use this as an opportunity to bash the current war, but I won't. At least not right now.

Second, I'm only through the introduction to Short History, but Bill Bryson is always worth reading. And it seems to be about evolution. So that's controversial! (Hi Cindy! That was for you!)

I'm going away now. Maybe some knitting content on Monday? Hopefully, if I make progress...

Comments!!

How fun is this? I'm getting comments from friends (hi Sarah!), family and even complete strangers! Yay!

Krista -- yes, well, I learned housekeeping skills from our father so my attitude is a bit...relaxed. Of course, I am not without compulsive tendencies: just watch me try to get our shower doors clean! Ugh, glass doors on a shower? Whose stupid idea was that?

Cottage46 -- I agree, The Waltons held up much better. It was so much more genuine than Little House.

As far as where I live: Len (my boyfriend) and I are between Ann Arbor and Jackson, near a small town called Grass Lake. I grew up in Ann Arbor, but lived for several years in SW Michigan in White Pigeon and Centreville (and was the village idiot....um, I mean secretary, for Constantine), all in the same county as Sturgis. Actually, a big part of why I love where I live now so much is that it reminds of St. Joseph County -- soybean and corn fields, old fart farmers, crummy diner food, bars and churches in equal number, and lots and lots of pick-up trucks. It's all very comforting.

Lee's blogging lesson of the day
I only have a vague notion of this blogging thing, so I am learning as I go. Today's lesson will be inserting links:
Marianne Kinzel's First Book of Lace Knitting can be found here. (Please note, even though I linked to Amazon, I don't necessarily advocate buying your books there, I'm a big fan of buying locally as much as possible, but they do provide a very good service, especially when your favorite local bookstore was bought out by K-Mart. I'm just sayin')

Ha! I just learned how to move a picture and insert a link (at least I think I did)! I might figure this thing out yet (though you might not want to hold your breath)..

Books!

Despite much evidence to the contrary, my life isn't all about knitting. Occasionally, I read. And as it turns out, so do most of my friends and family. Wacky, how that works.

I just finished re-reading the Little House on the Prairie series, which I haven't read since I was much younger. TV Land has been playing the series as well. I loved both the books and the series, so I was really curious about how each held up. The books continue to be wonderful (though not exactly P.C. when it comes to Indians or gender relations), and in some ways they are even more interesting and richer now, as an adult, than they were when I was much younger. The series...not so much. Treacly 70's crap. Though it might interest you to know that Mary really did go blind and Nellie really was a spoiled rotten adversary (though her circumstances were rather different).

I'll try to post about what I'm reading now tomorrow...