Thursday, September 30, 2004
Spiderweb
I have a visitor. This afternoon, I discovered that this little guy has taken up residence in my bedroom window.
She's been very active while I've been cleaning up, working mostly on that little white spot right above her head. Her web is huge! It stretches the two and a half feet of my window pane and is probably just as wide. She's dancing all around, spinning her little heart out. Yes, this spider is a girl. I've been staring at her underbelly for the past 15 minutes, you don't think I know?
She weirds me out a little bit. It's the legs, the way they...flex. :::shudder:::
Spiders are the patron animal (familiar??? totem???) of knitters, I think. She makes this gorgeous lacework out of a piece of string...spun from her butt. If you think about it, knitters probably weird other people out. I know I have to weird my roommate out when all I do is sit in my easy chair and repeat the same motion, over and over and over again, extend arm, check length, lather rinse repeat until scarf/sock is formed.
Man, she's really working hard. I hope she's here tomorrow morning. She kind of reminds me of myself when I was finishing up THIS:
Yeah, I'm beaming with pride. :-D It's so silky, so shimmery, really, despite all of my idiot mistakes, suprisingly easy to make. :-D The fringe just seals the deal, don't you think? I really hated to let it go, but alas, like I said, I don't have anything that it would look good with.
I think I'm going to name my new friend Joan, for the best song that Joan Osborne wrote. A dream she had about Ray Charles and how he completely changed ("No Georgia on My Mind no more, I stay in bed with MTV") when he got his eyesight back.
"And then he took his glasses off
And I could look inside his head.
Flashin' like a thunderstorm
I saw a shinin' spiderweb...
He said 'the world is made of spiderwebs
The threads are stuck to me and you.
Careful what you're wishin' for
Cause when you gain
You just might lose
Your Spideweb.'"Never let the world or the culture you live in disconnect you from others, from the things that are full of beauty, full of life -- the good things.
See you all on Monday.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
Fiend
Hey, sorry about the lack of posting for a bit. Just remember, you used to have to wait WEEKS people, WEEKS.
Justin's coming out this weekend, so I'm scrambling to get at least a week and a half of work done, plus breaking up with all of my Chicago flings. Oh yeah, and cleaning up the apartment. For some reason, knitting has become the ultimate procratinatory tool.
I've been working on the Jaquard socks a bit. The Farmer's Market Bag dpn's are finally in! I starting picking up stitches from the base last night. Pictures when I finally do something interesting.
The biggest news is that I started a new stash project. From Interweave Knits Spring magazine, Waving Lace Socks. Too lazy to take pictures myself, I found someone else's finished ones on the net.
http://knit.blogspot.com/2004/06/all-laced-up.html
Mine are going to be a more tan/taupe color, but you get the idea. I'm about an inch down from the cuff.
A word about this link, this is why blogging is so great. Check out some of this woman's projects, including a baptismal shawl for her son. Gorgeous! It's really neat to see the progress of a lot of knitter's lives as well as their scarves. I think this new blog is one I'll add to my favorites. This woman posted some of her first pics of her son on her blog. I just think that's cool.
And the title of this entry? How many fiendish things have I mentioned/done in this entry? How many can you find?
Ok, huge Hebrew test in 4 hours. Gotta get crackin.
Monday, September 27, 2004
The Cynic
I'm often amazed by scholars who thing that Jesus was a philosopher in the pattern of the Cynics, someone who pointed out society's ills in socially unacceptable ways. While that pattern fits, I think about the modern day definition of a cynic and how the philosophies are difficult to mesh together.
I think that this is my current problem. I've become really cynical, and I think with good reason. I've gotten my hopes up for everything in the past several years. I was young and idealistic, thrilled each time to be joining communities that HAD to be full of people like me. At Pittsburgh Seminary and in the LVC, that idealism was crushed to the point that I had to leave or suffocate. Cynicism is the inability to experience hope, I think. As a cynic, you look at a hopeful situation, a wedding, a birth, religion, and you see the horrible irony in it. I go to an emotional worship service, and all I can see is how the red-headed soccer mom always raises her hands at the key-change. Her emotion is perhaps...manufactured? Cheesy? Fake? Dare I say it...hypocritical?
Right now, I'm listening to the Contemporary Christian station on Launchcast.com and I think about the blindingly brilliant positive outlook that these folks have. "You make All Things New" "You're all I need." On the one hand, I really wish I had that. On the other hand, I'm imagining the cast of the movie "Saved" prancing around in their perfect lip gloss. To add creedance to this, I'd like you all to know that I'm currently listening to "Heart of Worship" as recorded by JOHN TESH. Oy. A wonderful message in cruddy jars of clay? (2 Corinthians 4:5-10).
The amazing thing about contemporary Christian music is that it brings out emotions in me that I would otherwise be snobbish about. I listen to a song called "You were there" and I find heart stirred, despite my better and more cynical judgement. I don't want to call it my guilty pleasure, but it certainly is my unacademic one. Here I am, supposed to be thinking about the deep theological meanings behind baptism, God, Christ's role in the world and in salvation. Yet I listen to a cheesy song by a cheesy group called Zoegirl (yeah, Zoegirl) that pretty much is just a repetitive chorus and bad synthesizers and I find myself moved beyond any lecture notes. Perhaps it's because I wish I could shout it from a mountaintop (in PA) or across the plains (in IL) that I believe in God. No, more than that. That I LOVE God. That I DEPEND on God. I'll never wear a cheesy bracelet with a cheesy acronymn, but I will have it shoved in my glove compartment.
Yeah, I realize I'm looking at very narrow slice of Christianity, the American Pop Christianity, the Christianity that practices the McEucharist, where the bread and grapejuice come in little foil sealed plastic containers, like Lunchables. I realize I'm leaving out the Liberation theologians like Oscar Romero and Gustavus Gutierrez who are willing to die for bringing a fair economy to the people of Latin America through their religious beliefs. I realize I'm leaving out the Quakers who have been laboring for centuries to bring justice and equality to the world.
But each of these ways of expressing Christian belief contains HOPE, a deep-seated belief that things can change, that things can improve...perhaps the difference that I'm missing. There's a difference in believing that things can change and that things WILL change. What is hope? Is hope the belief that one person can make a difference? Is hope the belief that God will give us something better when we die? Is hope merely the indefinable thing that keeps you going? That lets you know that there is someone somewhere in the world beside you that is also keepin on. Is the goal attainable?
Can you be a Christian and be cynical? Can you be cynical and have hope? How do you separate hope from shallowness? From cheesery? How do we reclaim hope from what it has come to mean?
Sunday, September 26, 2004
And after the diet?
I'm mainly writing this to get it in the archives. It's a trick to prevent me from pulling out my little credit card and buying the stuff right now!
The first project on the post-diet waiting list is the Julia Stiles scarf from the Bourne Supremacy.
Any takers? Anyone want the scarf for Christmas? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE?
"But you'll never be able to find that yarn!" You doubt my abilities? Ha! I scoff at you! It's also here. And here.
And just in case the links are dead by the time I'm off the diet, it's Berroco "Medley" yarn in color way "Damariscotta." I'm waiting for pictures to be posted on Craftster to verify the color...I think it might actually be Nordic Mix, but I'm not positive.
"How can you tell what stitch to do?" Luckily, there's also this HUGE ASS pic. that shows that it's pretty thin, stockinette looking stuff. But regular stockinette would curl at all edges. Elementary, my blog readers! Therefore it must be a K1 P1 rib! The size needles are still a mystery. I'm going to have to do some swatching. Possibly 10s, 11s or 13s with about a whole skein's worth of fringe.
But now that you have all the directions and where to get the yarn, you could probably do it all on your own and you wouldn't need me to make it as a gift for you. Perhaps next winter when the diet is over.
Thanks, Justin for not spilling the beans about you pulling me back from the edge while checking out the Peace Fleece page.
Hey, don't give me that look. It's a daily struggle. And don't ask how Weight Watchers is going.
I miss em.
This is Gram (on the right in the bright red) and Pap. These pictures were taken about a year part. Gram passed away in between.
Ever since I can remember, we would gather at Gram's, in the basement, to watch the Steeler games every Sunday. I remember being yelled at for crawling in front of the TV during a big play. I remember the days before the TV time delay when you could turn down the TV volume and put on radio. The radio announcers were always much more animated, much more biased toward the home team. Myron Cope is and was legend. Only Pittsburghers can understand that unique voice. I don't even know where you can find a sample of it online. When you left, your clothes and hair would stink of smoke. A blue cloud hung from Gram, her friend Joey (Mrs. Johnson to us), Aunt Wendy, and eventually Aunt Wendy's daugher-in-law, Aimee. There was always something in the crockpot. Chicken soup days were the best. When I was four I burned my mouth on some chilly and remember Mom offering me her beer to cool my lips and tongue. Imagine the shock of THAT taste!! There's an antique looking bank of Uncle Sam. You put penny in his hand, push a button, and the penny drops down into a gaping red bag that says "U.S." on it. Always political commentary.
I remember in the extremely early days, a canvas, foldable basket right by Gram's recliner (back in those days, it was on the left side of the room) that had balls of yarn, and I remember vividly a giant knitting needle...it must have been a size 60 or something. Gram crocheted. We have several giant bedspreads distributed amongst the family. She also made those adorable sock monkeys for all the grandkids.
Eventually, Gram moved to a rocking chair on the right hand side of the room. But the crockpot was still on, and Myron's voice, along with that of Bill Hillgrove (the play by play announcer) still emitted from the tiny transistor radio on top of the TV as the grandchildren played with GI Joes, or Matchbox cars on the floor, or the Commodore 64 at the back of the basement. The biggest game of the year was always the first game against the Cleveland Browns. There has always been a huge rivalry in the NFL, but my parents went to high school with a woman who married a man from Canton, OH, a Cleveland suburb. Somehow this man corrupted my brother into a Cleveland Browns fan. Every time we got together with them, Jim, Kevin and eventually Kurt would all root for the Brownies, and the rest of us for the Steelers. It became just as big of a rivalry in the Morris basement, Kurt always bet against the Steelers for the Browns game. Nothing over a dollar, but it always had to be in before kick-off. Kurt was always impatient to leave church on those Sundays. "We gotta get to Gram's before kick-off!!"
The Basement became the place to bring significant others, folks you wanted to introduce to the family, but not have them be the center of attention. Judgment was always pronounced the week after, if the aunts could hold it in that long. Once I brought a friend, and he was truly only a friend, to football and he was so knowledgeable and so lively, so able to talk the football language of the Morris clan that on our way out, Aunt Wendy pulled me down to whisper in my ear, "Hang onto this one! We like him!" "He's just a friend!" I responded. The next week, he and I went our separate ways to college and I haven't really seen him again.
They've warmed up to Justin, at first questioning why a red-blooded 21 year old male would refuse a beer, but eventually he won both Gram and Pap over with his football and baseball knowledge. At first they called him Jason, but everyone has done that. :-)
Gram got sick. You can tell in the upper picture that her right hand doesn't look quite right. She had a mini-stroke, developed type II diabetes, had a real stroke the day that the relative rookie Tommy Maddox got creamed with a head injury a few years back, and shortly thereafter developed renal failure. She died almost a year ago, the Wednesday before the big Browns/Steelers game. There were visitation hours the day of the game. Kurt put a dollar in the casket with her, turned back to me and said "gotta get my bet in before kick-off." We all gathered at Gram's house that night, crockpot on, to watch the game. Pap kept asking us if this was right, to be watching a football game and cheering at a football game the day before Gram's funeral. I remember saying to him, "Don't you think she'd be more pissed at us if we WEREN'T watching the game?"
I went back to Baltimore and the family kept getting together every Sunday for football games. When football season ended, they kept coming. Pap insisted he didn't need baby-sitting. Aunt Phyllis said, "Well I like getting together. I like seeing everyone." Some weeks everyone would be there, some weeks almost no one. People took turns preparing the food. When I came back from Baltimore, I went every week and usually took Justin along (thanks).
I would never have anything to do with my hands, so I'd find myself downing a bowl of potato chips and dip. So I started taking my knitting along. I didn't know how to knit before Gram died. But everytime there'd be a lapse in conversation, Pap would look over and ask what I was working on and say how Gram's mother knitted, how Gram made those bedspreads. "Knit one, purl two, is that the way it goes?"
As I sit here 100's of miles away, I realize how much I miss them. I don't know how this football season is going for them. I don't know if it's sad, if it's bitter, if people can bear to watch the game or not. I don't know if it's the status quo that it has been for the past year, Gram being the inspiration for us gathering, her spirit mingling where the smoke would be now (Joey quit, Aunt Wendy and Aimee now go outside). I realize that I'm going to miss the whole season. I take steps to lessen that pain, I bought the NFL season pass so that I can listen to the games on my computer. I sit and knit and listen to the play by play and Myron's ecstatic interjections. I think about how I sat every weekend for the past six months in that basement, knitting socks, scarves, baby hats, dishcloths, started my first sweater. I think about my childhood. I think about pouring beer from the time I was tall enough to reach the tap. I think about where everyone sits, or lays, like a church we all have our spots. I think about what's cooking in the crockpot. I think about all of the family photographs that line the walls, all the way around the room. I think about Gram. I think about Pap. I miss em.
Saturday, September 25, 2004
Typing up Loose Ends
What a great feeling! Like finishing a massive cleaning project. I'm only four days into the Great Stash Clean-Up and I'm doing great! Shawl: finished. Mittens: finished. And now?
. 
I'm tying new balls of yarn left and right. My drawer of "project yarn" is evaporating quickly. Both Fatigue and the Impossible Scarf (for Justin's mom) received fresh transfusions of yarn in the past few days. YAY!
Friday, September 24, 2004
And the hits just keep on comin'
I finished the Weekend Knitting "Super Mittens" (I prefer to call them "uber mittens") today.
It's funny, I got this book when I was just starting out with knitting. I was still in Baltimore, for goodness sake! I had never knit anything on dpns, and never done anything with yarn-overs or k2tog's or short rows or "heel turns" or swing your partner round and round, now do-si-do til your pants fall down. You geth the idea. I thought a lot of the projects looked nice and if the title suggested anything, it was that these projects were easy enough to do in a weekend. When I got back to Pittsburgh, however, I noted that there were several problems with the book. 1. The yarns are usually hard to get. Even my LYS in Pittsburgh doesn't stock them. 2. The patterns look excruciatingly difficult on the all important, now that I've gotten my new pet home second glance. At the time, I didn't even know how to do a long tail cast-on, and these were talking about loopedy-loop dingus cast ons...in the round. I couldn't decipher anything!
The book has sat on the shelf, been packed into boxes, sat on the shelf again, packed back into a box and put on ANOTHER shelf, doomed to an eternity of nothing. That is until one day, a fellow stitchin seminarian had a copy of it lying around her apartment for a bag she was making. I voiced my disgust at the potential difficulty level of the patterns, and she said, "no, they're really easy! Like these flower petal washcloths...a friend of mine did a set of 5 of those in 2 weeks." The sheer stamina of being able to knit five of something without going to something else dazzles me. She went on to say that the Farmer's Market Bag some of the other projects really interest her. (I nodded zealous agreement to the Farmer's Market Bag, hence the reason I'm waiting feverishly for the size 11 dpn's to come in.) So the last time I was feeling adulterous, I pulled out my copy and skimmed through it with fresh eyes, the eyes of someone who has UPS and a constant internet connection at her fingertips...not to mention the desire for something new. You know the rest.
I have to admit, she was right and the book title is not the vicious mocking lie I once thought it was. For both of these mittens, all it took was one evening's good IM conversation with Justin, and a good movie in the morning and I was done. Had there been no week-long interruption to pamper the Spiderweb Shawl, I would have finished these in a weekend! Amazing! A watershed moment in my knitting life.
Pretty, huh? And the varigation even sorta kinda matches up! How bout that? No the one on top isn't any bigger than the other one, that's YOUR IMAGINATION. It is, really it is. I didn't screw up! Honest! It's forced perspective! Ask Peter Jackson! The other mitten is really 6 feet behind the other one. I swear!
I also wanted to show off the cord I made for them. These are going to be like those great mittens we all had as toddlers that had that string that went behind your back so that you wouldn't lose them. I think those are a great idea!
Check it out: my Scandinavian mittens on my Scandinavian (read: IKEA) chair. I CROCHETED that bad bad boy! Well, sorta, it was just a chain stitch, which is crochet language of casting on. But chalk another needle art up there on the ol' blackboard. There seems to be a trend in some knitting blogs of knitters turning to the world of crochet. I don't think I could. Crocheted pieces seem to come out to rough and nubbly...stiff. Ugh. But yeah, I CROCHETED!
Before I get on my high horse, check out Yarn Harlot's mittens. I bet she has charmed needles or something. A weekend's knitting for us both. It makes me want to weep in the fetal position.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Damn and Double Damn
I lost it. It's gone, completely gone. I had written this amazing post for today, but I went to include a picture, hit the wrong button and when I tried to go back to the window I had typed in, it was gone, "Wiped clean by the wrath of God." Oh it was brilliant. I cried while writing it. But I don't have the energy to do that again.
So I'll leave with you with simply this:
It's finally done. Better pictures to come.
I can't give everything away until the recipient...recipps it. Yeah, that was a blatant attempt to rescue some of the greatness of the previous entry. It flowed better before. Damn Damn Damn.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
The Great Famine
Before I start, something most of you would enjoy: http://www.thislife.org/, go to the "our favorites section." About half way down, "Simulated Words." In the third act, the host takes a Medieval Studies prof. at the University of Chicago to Medieval times to test out the authenticity of the chain restaurant. :-)
Day one: I sorted through my books and determined what stuff was needed and what stuff would serve as "inspiration only" and has to be tossed in the basement.
The Keeps:
The Keep Nots: 
I perused each book/mag with several criteria in mind. How many patterns did they contain? How many patterns had I already done in the book? Was I working on anything in that book at the moment? How many patterns could be put in the "just because you CAN knit it, doesn't mean you should" category? Most importantly: How useful was the book outside of the patterns that I was trying to avoid? I decided to keep Stitch n' Bitch because I find myself going to it any time I need instructions on anything. The patterns are no longer tempting and honestly, most of them are for either hip or skinny girls...of which I am neither. The other one has no patterns whatsoever but is another good resource for techniques.
Of course the magazines went immediately. They're full of patterns that you fall in love with immediately like that gorgeous, popular crush at a new school, but your excitement whithers quickly as soon as you realize that amount of effort it would take to actually start a relationship (vast improvement in grooming and style skills, suddenly becoming gregarious, etc.). The one exception is this bad boy:
When I got it, it was purely for the sock article and pattern. Socks step by step. It's the model for all of the socks I've ever knit (all three of them). The cover should be an indication of what's inside...nothing else worth knitting. And everything is knit with Lion Brand -- cheaper stuff.
The trickiest culling process was "The Folder." The Folder is a plain manila folder stuff with the patterns I've copied from library books and printed off of the internet. These are more dream patterns, things I'll probably never make, but am dying to. Most of them don't have yarn associated with them in the Stash, others do. Those that do were pulled. This is a potentially dangerous decision. I'm afraid that I'll suddenly despise the yarn in the stash but continue to love the pattern and as a result, go and get new yarn to work on that pattern.
The next step was copying any pattern currently in use in any of the books. Mittens, Farmers' Bag, huge ass cardigan that's barely underway.
Aren't you proud of me??? See how much work I'm doing to kick my habit???
When I returned from the library, I checked the mail.
Dammit. Someone is playing a cruel joke on me.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
No Good Title
Nothing comes to mind for a catchy number this morning, probably because it's so damn early!
I found out that This American Life has a page of its favorite shows that I encourage all of you to try out. It includes a "just staring out" section that offers a pretty good microcosmic picture of what the program is about. And the one from two weeks ago about the Republican Party: Party of Inclusion was pretty good too.
I had what I would describe as a pretty decent day yesterday. Got my education by attending class and scrambling to get reading done for the rest of the week (no, still not finished). Got my exercise by walking to the seminary with a 6 pack of Diet Pepsi bottles and lunch meat over my shoulder (I had also run to the grocery store) to make a second check on my final Mea Culpa UPS package of yarn.
I have a love/hate relationship with UPS. Everyone loves getting mail. Everyone loves getting their mail personally handed to them by a man in brown shorts even more. What I hate about UPS is the way in which they deal with apartment packages. They approach a locked apartment building, and instead of looking on the directory and finding my apartment and calling me, instead of calling the Res. Life number which is what the instructions say to do, they simply leave a note and declare the day a "failed attempt to deliver."
Instead, I have to have my packages shipped to the seminary where there is always a receptionist on duty to sign for packages. It also means that I have to make special trips up there if I want to get my packages on the day they arrive. Who says home-ownership doesn't have its privileges?
Now, I know you're all dying to see what was in the UPS package that I made two attempts to obtain yesterday, so here it is:
Yes, I suck at digital photography. Let's not dwell on this. Of course, there's the obligatory notes about color: The skein on the left that looks like it exactly matches my office chair? Well, it doesn't. It's a deep, dark, navy blue. The other blue skein is a very royal blue hue (tone? shade? tint?). There are actually 4 skeins of grey, one I've already wound into a ball. The picture of the bag is from Weekend Knits, and it is the Farmer's Market bag that I intend to conquer once I finish fringing the shawl...and the mittens...and the socks...yes yes I KNOW! I also have the added bonus of having to wait for more needles. The ones I sent back due to the size issue were for this project. So I CAN'T start on it until they get here at least.
Oops.
This brings up another issue. The credit card bill and the rent bill arrived on the same day a few days ago. I am officially declaring a yarn diet. If people want handmade stuff from me for Christmas this year, it's gotta be something for which I can use RedHeart or something from the stash. I am officially declaring a moratorium on all yarn purchases. If someone ELSE wants to buy me something when he comes out and we go to Arcadia Knitting, that's fine. ;-)
Here's my problem: I buy yarn for projects. Other knitters by yarn the way I bought fabric for quilts, "ooh, that looks pretty, maybe I'll use that some day." Not me. When I buy yarn, I have a specific project in mind, and straying from the monogamous commitment to that project is extremely difficult. So the skein of homespun that I bought to make Justin a pair of slippers before he could make them himself...I may never have the guts to touch that to make anything else but a pair of slippers for Justin. The 6 skeins of bright turquoise cotton that I picked up at the church rummage sale (what the hell was I THINKING?) can only be used for making dishcloths. Of course, what else could you make with them??
Upon reflecting on my credit card bill, I came to the conclusion that I have yarn in my stash for at least 20 different PLANNED projects. Projects that I have patterns for, projects that I have needles for. My roommate asked me how many projects I was working on. Actively? 3. Passively? About 4-6 more. The yarn shopping is done until I finish up the 9 of the 10 projects I'm working on now (the dress is going to take years, so that's just not feasible), as well as at least another 10 from the stash.
Now I need commitment from you guys to help me with this. If you get the hint that I'm starting to stray, I want an email, a comment here, an IM, hell even PHONE CALL to pull me back from the ledge.
Included in the plan is making xerox copies of the patterns I'll be using for said projects and then PUTTING THE BOOKS AND MAGAZINES IN STORAGE. I kid you not, I'm very serious about this.
The first step is admitting you have a problem. There's a higher power step in there somewhere too...I think I got that one covered. So, 10 more to go!
Monday, September 20, 2004
"Dear Diary..."
When I was going through adolescence and my teen years, I tried to keep a diary or a journal. However, much like this blog, my entries were sporadic at best. I would read the previous entry from months before and realize how "far" my life had progressed from that point. The new entry would consist of the following formula: Dear Diary, It's been SOOO long since I've written. SOOOO much has happened. I don't like X anymore and I can't believe I ever did. I'm not in elementary school any more...you get the point.
This entry is going to sound like that. Although it hasn't been that long since last I wrote, 5 days, I think, a lot has happened. And I have pictures to prove it!
On Wednesday afternoon, mere hours after my last post, the first of the adulterous packages arrived.
The Morehouse Merino in all of its' SeaCoast glory. I quickly wound the hank into a ball and threw it in the basket where I had hoped it would sit until I had finished the Spiderweb Shawl. Or at least until I got the proper needles for the mitten pattern I'm planning on using.
Wednesday night through Thursday afternoon provided no time for knitting. That's my most concentrated time for classes and it allows very little time for anything else.
However, on Thursday afternoon I received a package of needles. One circular size 11, and one set of dpn's, supposedly size 11's but really size 10's. They must be sent back. It was at this point that I realized that I had never ordered a set of size 10.5 dpns specifically for the mittens. I had planned on using the size 9's I already had!
Further helping with my downfall, I had also received two DVD's from Netflix, both documentaries, and I was ecstatic to be able to spend an evening roommate free, watching movies and knitting...
this tremendously unshawl-like article of clothing. This is by about 8 PM on Thursday evening. It's a mitten. Notice the Shawl watching helplessly from the left? You'd think that I would at least have the decency to PUT THE SHAWL AWAY before starting an adulterous project!
After a rather torrid and strenuous evening and early morning of adultery...
And I'm SPENT. And ready to go back to the Ol' Lacy Ball and Chain.
I went back happy, yet still begging forgiveness, swearing that I wouldn't even cast-on the other one until my beloved was finished. It was a one night stand. I invested nothing in the Mitten. I hadn't dedicated days and weeks to it. It meant nothing to me.
I spent the Friday and the weekend making it up to the poor emotionally scarred shawl. My attention did not go unnoticed as there were no dropped stitches, no TINKING. I was nearing the end of the second ball of yarn and decided that enough was enough. I was ready to bind off.
:'-) I have to wax romantical here for a moment. The rose and its' eleven brothers and sisters arrived on Friday night. A 6th anniversary (that's a quarter of my life! eesh!) present from Justin. They are all absolutely gorgeous. He's not one for the traditional schtuff when it comes to dating, but it makes it that much more special when something classic like this comes to the door.
I knew that if I took a break with the shawl, I might not pick it up again until the day before it's due to be delivered. I'm like that. If I'm that far ahead of a deadline, I tend to lose all motivation. But I would not be deterred. Ergo, by the time I went to bed last night, drifting off to the dulcet tones of A Prairie Home Companion,
FRINGE! I'm over half-way done with the fringing at this point.
Now, if only classwork were coming along this smoothly. :-)
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Happiness is...
Happiness is an imperfect picture of the perfect bowl of oatmeal.
My apologies for the darkish hue of the picture. The one WITH the flash was just sickly. Anyway, I woke up this morning and was listening to a back episode of a Prairie Home Companion and I was about to make myself some breakfast. But I thought, I don't want bland toast and peanut butter for breakfast. That doesn't fit with my Prairie Home Companion mood of Powdermilk Bisquits and ways to stay warm in Minnesota in the winter. Yes, it's mid-September, I know. Yes, I KNOW I'm in Chicago. So I thought, oatmeal! I haven't made oatmeal since the first or second day I was here. I was so excited that the grocery store had ol' fashioned rolled oats in bulk, that I snatched myself up more than I'll use in the rest of the year.
The oatmeal above is/was truly photograph worthy. This was by far the best bowl of oatmeal I EVER made. I can't let this secret of the world's perfect oatmeal stay under my hat. I'm a preacher, I'm a seminarian. If I hear good news I have to share it with the world!!!!...but not force it on them, of course. So here's my recipe for the best oatmeal I've ever had.
1 Serving:
Boil 1c water
When boiling, stir in 1/2c rolled oats (no quickoats)
Add 4 or 5 shakes of salt (my salt comes out at a slower speed, it needs to be teased out with great thrusts of the arm)
Let boil 5 minutes after adding oats, stirring about once a minute.
In a cereal bowl, while oats are cooking, place a dollop of peanut butter (about a Tablespoon). Use commercial stuff, not natural stuff. I used JIF.
When oatmeal is done cooking, pour oatmeal into bowl over peanut butter and stir vigorously until all peanut butter has melted.
Add 1/4 teaspoon of honey and stir that in vigorously.
Wow, it really tasted good to me, I hope you like it.
(P.S. I'm a salty person, so if you're more salt sensitive, adjust to your taste, but some is required.)
P.P.S. Why haven't I written about the Spiderweb Shawl in days? Well, it's too depressing. I had another TINKING evening on Monday back to 131 stitches or so. Now I'm working my way back up. Yeah, I know. I just need to trust that it'll come out alright.
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Christmas
Because I've been called to a life of suffering servitude in Christ, please put this at the top of my Christmas list. :-) Because I NEEEEEED it. That is all.
Monday, September 13, 2004
PREACH it!
If I can be a 10th of this guy someday, my life will have not been lived in vain.
Wow. Just...wow.
Confessional
Since last night, I've been feeling a sort of...urge. This is a knitting blog, so it stands to reason that I write about a knitting urge.
You'll remember that I wrote quite recently to update you about all of my WIPs. The Spiderweb Shawl, the Jaquard sock, the scarf for Justin's mom, Fatigue. Oh yeah, there's a giant-ass cardigan that I forgot to mention.
Well, last night -- FRIDAY NIGHT come to think! -- I went to bed perusing through The Purl Stitch, then Saturday, The Knit Stitch and the clincher, Weekend Knitting.
I should recognize the symptoms by now. I've been working on the Spiderweb Shawl for what feels like an age, and it feels like it's going to take another age before I get to fringe it. The Jaquard sock is going to be exactly like the first one, and the cabled scarf for Justin's mom is not something I can give half a mind too...it's knitting to do while the passenger on a 10 hour long drive. The grey cardigan is knit on a discontinued yarn and I don't want to face the prospect of running out.
This adds up to me getting antsy. By Saturday night, I ended up with several skeins of this, for the Farmer's Market Bag in Weekend Knitting that I've had my eye on for 6 months (yeah, remember that giant swatch of olive drab that I'm trying to turn into a bag???) as well as a skein of ![SPL400rev[1] (18k image)](http://www.empusa.net/rkm/archives/SPL400rev[1].jpg)
for a pair of mittens that I also found in Weekend Knitting.
As SOON as I hit the send button I knew I was being bad, naughty if you will. I feel so horrible and guilty to be wanting to start new projects when I have a bevy of old ones sitting in my basket waiting to be lovingly caressed.
Yeah, and that bluish-gray thing on the left, that's a mohair hat that's a little too short that I have dreams of Frogging and making a new one out of the yarn and a new skein I found in my stash while packing for school. One can dream.
I feel like I'm cheating on a spouse or something. Here I'm asking each individual project to live, harem style, with all the others, hoping that I will grace them with my desire to...knit. (GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER, IT'S YARN FOR CHRISSAKE!) I don't think I can bring the new yarn into the room at all. But then, I don't think I can put it with the stash either. Afterall, the skeins of unused yarn are living in a type of harem as well.
Well, hopefully I'll finish the Spiderweb before the yarn gets here and then I won't feel guilty about starting at least ONE new project. See, Justin, that's the REAL reason I feel like I NEED to finish it before the end of the month.
Sunday, September 12, 2004
Let the drooling commence
Need a napkin? Wipe your mouth.
That's what I'm hoping the mystery shawl will turn out to be. I put it on yarn again this weekend...and only dropped ONE STITCH when I put it back on the needles! YAY!
I'm up to 132 stitches in the row that I just finished. That's up from a starting number of 4. This bad boy's getting big. I'm hoping to get up to 210 stitches. And I had NO CLUE how wide shawls had to be before they fit properly. I'm aiming for 70" with this one. Yarnharlot tells us in her wisdom, "how can a shawl not fit?" Well, it can be too small and not drape across the shoulders properly. It can be too long with the tip of the triangle dragging along on the floor.
Yeah, I'm pretty scared about this one still. Hope it comes out like the above pattern. If not, I've got a link to the pattern in my webpage favorites. Even at this point, I'm not above frogging it and actually buying the pattern. Yes, I hear the gasps. Would it help if I said I'd consult you all first? Even if I don't accept your opinion? :-)
Friday, September 10, 2004
Sausage Links
Well, it's Friday evening. I'm sick of movies. I miss half of them because I'm staring at my hands. Incidently, The Bourne Identity is the worst movie to watch while doing any kind of craftwork. The first 10 minutes has no words...and it's RIVETING. I've found myself stuck in the middle of a row, not sure whether I was knitting or purling thanks to that movie.
So, the alternative? In Baltimore I was really into Books on Tape/CD. I worked my way through the whole Harry Potter and some of the Mitford series before I left. They saw me through many scarves and hats.
But those are really expensive at the B&N and I have yet to make contact with the local public library here.
Plan B: FREE Streaming Internet Radio Programs!!!!!!
Here are some links to some really great ones. Stacie, I'm sorry. You may need a fast internet connection to get these, but you could always try.
This American Life (Ira Glass is actually about 50 believe it or not!): http://www.thislife.org You gotta hunt around for the shows, but you can get them free on Real Player.
Prairie Home Companion:http://prairiehome.publicradio.org/programs/ Wholesome, but I still laughed my ass off.
Both of these have tons of archived programs.
Old Time Radio Now: http://www.otrnow.com/ Click on "Old Time Radio Webcasts." The quality isn't as good as the other ones, but there are the classic old timey radio shows, complete with cheesy music, cheesy effects and potential lapses in political correctness.
This one has two different channels that you can access from the site and it's always "live", meaning you can't pick what you hear next.
Back to the shawl. I'm almost done with the first ball and I thought I only had 2 more balls available. I actually have 3! Whoo-hoo! According to calcuations, I have 80 more rows to go. Breathe deep now.
P.S. This is a shot of my stomach. The shawl likes to leave droppings around, especially when it gets excited.
Constipated
Classes are fine, thanks. I don't think seminary is supposed to be academically hard.
Since every weekend is a three-day weekend this semester, I've decided to take Thursday afternoons off. Instead of journalling or working on those pesky ordination psych tests, I worked on the Spider-web shawl.
Net progress: None.
After I put this precious and weightless thing back on the needles, I decided to TINK the three or four rows that had extra yarnovers in them. With skinny yarn and huge needles...well, that took just about forever. Two movies to be exact. I kept TINKING, would notice that the row below still had the big gap near the middle that signalled a yarn over, would TINK to that spot, would notice a hole right below there, TINK to that, then start knitting again, notice a big whole, TINK back a row then start knitting again.
All of this vicious back and forth work finally took it's toll on the yarn and I noticed a section that was stretched beyond repair. Unfortunately, before I could TINK back to THAT, it broke and I had to frantically pick up stitches before the broken yarn unravelled all the way to the tail end of the poor shawl. It was a vicious, hair-pulling, wailing and teeth-gnashing experience.
I bet you're all drenched in the sweat of suspense by now, wondering if I gave up and decided to frog the whole thing and start over. Did I slowly and painfully TINK back to the cast-on row? "How did it resolve, Melissa?" I hear you cry! Suddenly I noticed that I had, in fact, dropped that stitch, and that every time I TINKED down to the big hole in the eternal "one row below", the stitch would sneakily drop down one more row, creating a new hole. Relieved to have found the problem, I started fanatically looking for more dropped stitches, and found two more that I hadn't noticed before. Phew!
So, having started at 4, by 8, I finally had reknit all of the yarn that I had spent the afternoon TINKING into a small pile on the four. Like I said, net progress, zilch. But I still love running my fingers over it, love how it hangs off the needle in glorious, sparkly waves. It's now too wide to fit on one needle with out scrunching. :-) The look of it keeps me going, even though there are times that I just want to throw it in the closet and forget about it. Alas, deadlines deadlines.
Gotta go read for class.
Monday, September 6, 2004
Labor Day's Labor
I was supposed to go to a picnic this afternoon. But it got rained out. I watched a bunch of movies, but decided that I didn't want to have the only thing tangible in my day be a couple of inches of knotted yarn. So I made these:
They're Weight Watchers. It was my first attempt at using the baking stones I got from LTD. They performed quite well, although I had to add an extra 5 minutes onto the baking time. They're not like the PB cookies I'm used to, but I'm blaming that on the weight watcheriness of them and not my baking ability. They're soft and chewy...mmm...
I spent most of the day working on the spidery shawl that I can't show you. :-) I probably added about 6 inches to it, impressing even myself. I second-guessed the way the angles were forming though. I thought they were too steep, too sharp. So I ended up giving myself a massive headache...
by putting the thing on scrap yarn to see how it would truly lay. Once again, I can't show you the whole thing. :-) But this is probably the best picture of the yarn I can imagine. It's so soft and weightless, I'm debating keeping this for myself. But I have nothing to wear it with. I bet there's someone out there who does.
Sunday, September 5, 2004
Oats
I went to my first Quaker/Society of Friends meeting today. It was really great. I think that, having been involved in the church so much, a service has to be extraordinarily different in order for me to truly get something out of it on its own merit.
There was no formal beginning, other than someone shutting the door to the meeting room. Then everyone assumed various postures and settled in for the silence. I felt most comfortable with my eyes closed because everyone is in a circle. It limited distraction and helped me focus on my breathing. I think it was the first time in my life that I've had my eyes closed for an hour and didn't fall asleep. That requires a lot of energy.
I started by thinking about my breathing, and then a small child, probably about 2, walked by outside and started remarking on all of the flowers, "PRETTY! PRETTY!" with mom responding, "Yeah, they are, let's leave them there for everyone else to find."
I should stop here and explain the basic premise. Quakers believe that every person has a bit of God/Holy Spirit inside of them called "the inner light." Because we all have it, we're all connected and therefore are all important. Hence, the no slavery, no war, no death penalty, because every human is important. During a Quaker meeting, you're supposed to sit quietly and "dwell in the light," patiently waiting for the Holy Spirit to inspire you to speak. They're like Pentecostal librarians. The Spirit is supposed to completely lead the service, but in a quiet sense, not the loud sense.
Anyway, I started reflecting on the child -- how as we get older, we lose our fascination for simple things. The way things move, look, taste, smell, behave are no longer items of interest. We take them for granted.
Then somebody stood up and started speaking about how the Divine affects him through everyday things. Having just been reflecting on everyday things, I immediately made a connection. But he was talking about watching the U.S. Open and how a United States tennis player whose parents are Russian immigrants was wearing a black ribbon on her tennis outfit. She's 17. She lost the match. When she was interviewed and asked the ribbon, she said, "It doesn't matter that I didn't win the tournament [and the multi-million dollar prize that went with it], what matters are the lives of those children and their families in Russia."
So I started thinking about that, and weaved around the ideas of empathy, how for some people the Hand of God prompts us to forgiveness (the theme of someone else's minute long contribution) and others the Hand of God prompts us to be willing to commit such horrible atrocities. What motivates individuals to run into a building and willingly kill many small children to make a statement? What is being withheld from their lives? What are they lacking that they are willing to execute others to get? Nobody talks about that. Even in the Quaker meeting. Someone talked about God prompting us and speaking to us. The final comment was someone who said that we do not have the God-like voice that says, "Thou shalt not kill", but the voice that can say "I shall not kill." That we have to start there, and if enough people start there...well, world peace is always the goal. :-)
The time was exhausting and refreshing simultaneously. Last night we went to Navy Pier, a popular tourist spot in Chicago. There were tons of people, lights, sounds, smells. It was amazing to me how much stuff we need these days to be entertained. Don't get me wrong, I'm not immune. I'm typing this, talking with Andrew on IM, listening to a movie, and have a fan blowing in my face all at once.
This morning was such a marked difference. How rare is it that we get to spend even a half an hour in almost complete silence. Or with a group of people in silence? Silent prayers in most churches last maybe 5 seconds. Having led prayers that contain silence, I try to count to 10, and by the time I reach 4 or 5, I get the feeling that people think something is wrong. After a person spoke, you had to get back in your meditative zone a little bit. It was jarring to hear even the softest of voices. You almost felt as if you were in the Spirit, dwelling in the light, and then the Spirit would leave, then when you opened up to it again, it came back. Really amazing.
I highly recommend it. There was no heavy or high handed theology present today, just people talking about forgiveness, how we should respond to tragedy, how we should try to change the world by trying to change ourselves. I think that we all need silence in our worship lives (I've fully entered preacher mode...bear with me). Worshipping God shouldn't be about entertaining us. Today was wholly unentertaining, but fulfilling nonetheless. I loved every silent minute of it.
And there was free vegetarian food afterwards. :-D Yum!
Saturday, September 4, 2004
Project Update
Well, I'll warn you, this post is going to be picture intensive, so just bare with the loading time.
I've been in Chicago almost 2 weeks now, getting adjusted to the new surroundings (love Hyde Park), new people (not too sure about the new roomie...why do I attract these people???). I'm starting classes on Tuesday. But today is a Saturday with nothing to do, so why not blog?
Last week was orientation. I spent a lot of time sitting and listening to various procedures and requirements, policies and panels. Orientation gave me my first real experience of Knitting-In-Public. I have to say, the response was mixed. During the first break on the first day, one of my classmates looked at the table that I was standing next to and said, "Someone's bored already. That doesn't bode well." I was proud that I claimed the knitting project on the table as, in fact, my own. And that the knitting helps keep me focused, thank you very much. I quickly found out that there are about 5 other knitters in my class and even a quilter or two. Even though one kept praising me on a daily basis for bringing knitting to orientation, every morning she also kept saying, "Oh shoot, I forgot my knitting today." RIIIIGHT. No guts, no progress.
This was the first triumph of orientation.
It was the only thing I had small enough to be inconspicuous and easy enough to hold my attention. I had turned the heel on the drive out, and was just about to start the foot when I arrived in Chicago.
Success is mine. I slipped on this completed beauty last night and was shocked by how soft the wool was and by how quickly my foot warmed up. Certainly a good sign for winter. :-) Now, if only I could get up the motivation to work on its twin. Ugh. Things that come in pairs, right Justin? ;-)
Behold the second triumph of orientation:
That's right. You all remember Fatigue. Fatigue was supposed to be finished by now, so that I would have a conversation piece to carry my books back and forth to class. Alas, Fatigue, as you all remember, is row upon row of single color knit every stitch, every row. Horrible for a car trip...wonderful when you have to be paying attention to something else and knitting in the background. Dusting off Fatigue was a big step for me. He had been off of the needles and on a stitch marker since June, I think. I had all but given up. Incidently, that ridge is where I tried to find a new stitch pattern to jazz things up a bit and keep me interested. It failed after 3 rows, but I didn't have the energy or the attention span to TINK during orientation, so in the ridge stays as a half way marker. Looks good, eh?
Other project updates.
I'm not really big on posting triumphs, I guess. But the First Socks got finished awhile back, thanks to the aid of Morris Sundays where I would just be able to sit and talk for a few hours.
Yes, I'm proud of my cankles. :-)
Ok, this is a bit of a daring project. I think I've established that I don't always make the best decisions in terms of knitting and life. I've tempted the Gods by teaching my boyfriend how to knit. (How's it coming, Justin? Yeah, I though so. ;-) Get moved in first.) Now I'm tempting them even further.
It's a scarf for Justin's mother for her birthday. I'm making a scarf for the most picky woman in the world without her knowledge or input (not that she'd give me any) who ALSO happens to be the mother of my boyfriend. Gulp. Somebody just shoot me now. I've already determined that I will not take criticism or lack of wearage personally. I'll be 10 hours away, how would I know anyway? But at the same time, when you spend hours on something and give it away, how can you not take criticism personally? I love it, though. It's my first real attempt at cable-ing and I think it's turning out pretty well. Cable-ing is really easy. I mean, REALLY easy.
On a more depressing note, I need you all to say goodbye with me. Sigh. Heavy Sigh.
I was online this morning and checking out the pattern for this bad boy, titled "Hush-Hush" and discovered that I could go online and get help for it. I want to cut out about a foot of length out of it along the way and wanted advice. I discovered many more problems along the way I thought the "chest size" was accurate as well as the hip size. Alas and not so. The chest size is not the number in your bra size, take note one and all. It is the measurement of...your most well endowed point. Damn. So this is going to be like 4 inches too small in the chest alone. Now, I've lost about 15 pounds thus far, but none of it off of my chest (as everyone else seems too). I don't think they're going to get much smaller. At least I discovered the problem now. But still, I cast on 320 stitches for it which took a good commercial free episode of the West Wing. Frogging it is going to be downright painful. :-(
I can't end on a depressing note of projects starting over, however. So I must offer this little teaser.
I won't let myself show anymore because it's a gift for someone. While that person saw it once, I will not let them see its progress til it's done. But I think this picture shows the shimmery quality of the yarn quite well. And it's fuzziness. It's so soft, I can barely feel it as it glides through my fingers. Yummy. (I really can't stand it when people use food descriptives to describe non-food things, so let that be an indicator of how much I like the feel of this yarn. Yeah, you'll never hear me talking about a "delicious novel." Cringe.)
Ok, on with the day! Happy knitting.
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