An Eye for an Eye

The damn universe has been flattening out my hubris again. After weeks of searching for the fourth button for my orange sweater I found it in, yes, the same (and only!) button tin that I had searched through nearly every day. It is a 5" wide tin; it is but shallowly filled. How did I finger through it at least a dozen times and not see it? Rrrrr. I was so angry that the buttons waited a week for attachment. Take that!

On the same day, Reader, both Kauni mittens disappeared. I have searched every pocket, every bag and baglet that i have ever dragged to work, every laundry basket and bin -- no sign of them. I have been extra paranoid about MittenAwayImmediately! when riding the bus, so I hope dolefully that they are in the house somewhere. But it seems certain that the day i find them I will lose something else.

In further proof that some sort of balancing act is out of control, I brought home that gem of out-of-print The Principles of Knitting by June Hiatt. I couldn't believe that the library lets them circulate. So far, the hype is deserved: the style is just chatty enough but still gang-busters informing. I wouldn't pay $200, but if they reprinted? definately $80 or so.

While enjoying this amazing addition to my library queque I leaned on my glasses -- "why is my pillow making a snapping noise? oh." This is my first broken frame since . . . 1997? when I took a left turn a little fast coming out of campus (it was sunny, you would have too) and the glasses slowly and smoothly slid across the dash, and zip! out the window onto a quite busy road. I pulled over immediately and got to watch them get shot around by the car tires. Good times.

I do maintain that despite my cluttered living habits i have a good track record with eyeglasses; and this incident with beloved and long-lived Diane Capt 44D02 happened two days before my eye appointment to fill two new frames. I think they hid under the pillow on Purpose, damn it!

She's lookin good, Verne

I hope a lot of other people get crippled when starting a blog post. I don't know why I think that I'll remember a clever post-title 8 hours later, but I keep believing it. Also, all the funny drains right out of me when I park here at the PC. That's why titles from The Far Side are just right. If I could choose God, he would be Gary Larson. Of course the world would be just as irony-infested as usual, only with more cows.

My knitting loops apace, but the blog falters before the mating ritual that is my stash and the Rav circling and hooting at each other. It's so hard to keep my lips on the air valve, blowing until I have a blowup cow girlfriend.

In good, non-self-flagellating news, I have organized my stash and there are decorative baskets involved -- and lots of (Ziploc we pray thee) moth-proof freezer bags.

Swatch for Norah G's Serpentine Coat has been alarming:

1. how does she expect abstract-shaped color patterns to go smoothly, knitted flat?

2. either the book's yarn is a very different dyelot or the photographer was a slick SOB because my brown mix Odyssey is loads darker and I haven't seen golden tones yet. which led to

3. blue doesn't rise above background -- cause purling back in crazyville is so worth it when invisible!

Swatching with my new Patou singles is charming. I tried the Twist Little Bird pattern:

It looks a little Christmassy. I can't quite walk past the cuteness. One problem is that the cream is the main quantity, so it will end up being background even though I don't fancy a lighter sweater. I don't have enough colors for a more traditional fair isle deal. Ack. So far the cream is a tad thicker than the others, too.

I've had a bitter feud/phobia with provisional cast on for years. Always ended up looking like I'd swirled the needles in a pot of spaghetti, so I had recourse to the crochet method a few times. A few weeks ago I watched the Zimmermann/Swanson Workshop DVD (seeing the technique live for the first time) and it looked a bit more reasonable. Then when reorg'ing the crafts closet I found a doomed old project and turning it about, what did i spy but a rather neat looking prov.cast on! What? I know no one else did it and it looked shockingly good. So this week when casting on the bird hat/swatch I fearlessly whipped up my nemesis and started up! Sooo not visible in bad photo.

At the top, birthday flowers from my bar. Awesome.

If only I still liked to drink :(

Viva November!

Wow, October was no party. I had strep for 3 weeks -- after which I accomplished my first perfectly executed cycle of antibiotics ever, so determined to not be sick AnyMore was I. Then, the very last day as a gleeful kick in the pants (after 3 days of "defrosting" during which I never thought to cock my ear for a running motor noise) I found out Halloween morning that my refrigerator had quit. Of course by then it had not been cooling for several days and I had a mess of dairy products as usual. It took 7 garbage bags and I didn't recycle most of the food jars. It was depressing enough to throw it all out. I didn't have the necessary to clean out everything as well.

A few days ago I got the new frig and it has a normal freezer instead of a shoebox and finally I can have half-gallons of Breyers like everyone else! And without the 2inch layer of ice. I do miss my egg holes terribly though, it was so nice to see the friendly eggs all in a row.

I am still hard at work on Christmas gift for the few, the chosen. I have one man's hat done and the red lace scarf is going well, though a bit slow. I finally got past the part of the doubled yarn that I had to rewind: changed my mind about pattern.

I have six straight days with no work! Lots of knitting!

Dahl=Valley=Derry=Dairy

I realized last night that I have a lot of milk on hand. From left: hemp milk, kefir, goat milk, buttermilk, reg 1%, plus assorted yoghurts off stage. I oughtta have the best bones around! I just used the kefir to make a milkshake. The TJs blueberry soda was not great for me, but it would make a great float, so the kefir went in with it - the tangy yoghurt taste cut the sugar of the soda very nicely and it was blueberries and cream. Pretty good.

I have to crow because I really rocked out an invisible bind-off on 2x2 rib yesterday. I didn't want it to end, it looks primo and I didn't even practice! I went to the LYS and then Border's to score a VK Fall (waited too long) and ended up finding the exact BO I needed in IK, so I snapped it up and started right away. Victory! Can't decide if I should repeat it on the cuffs or not.

Sleeves are underway so I can start getting an ulcer over what shoulder shaping I'm going to do and how I can't rip out the bottom.

Emergency! now with ferrets!

Getting a digital box for my TV has greatly expanded my vintage-programming experience. Having RTN: almost like having cable! It's no BBC America, of course, but seeing the first Kojak episode ever was a new experience. Then there are the siren-porn shows: Adam 12, Emergency! I had no idea that Battlestar Galactica was so old -- or so much cheesier than Star Trek. Who knew Buck Rogers was in space? not a ranch, space! Not me. Magnum PI? Oh, the humanity. Oh, the unholy manchesting. My favorite so far is definitely Emergency! The customer service is horrific:
Man having heart attack (now stuck on elevator between floors) worries oh-so-mildly. EMT response? "Buddy, can you calm down? Jeez, chill out will ya?" They always act like it is so rude, gosh, that the stupid people are not laying there silent as the dead instead of being, you know, concerned about dying while the medics chat about the chief's mood. A Riot.
Might have to catch some Mork & Mindy soon. That used to be one of my favorites as a kid. And Family Ties.

There was a ferret documentary on PBS Friday night and I ended up watching most of it. My opinion of the animals is now more favorable, but owner stereotypes were mostly confirmed. Ferrets seemed to be the JackRussels of the rodent pet world -- leave them alone at your peril! The ferret antics were pretty entertaining and it did make you want to visit with some ferrets, if not section off a custom-built floor of your house for them. The singing ferret owner was my jumping off point. As soon as they started the section on old ferrets dying, I knew there had to be a dead ferret song coming. There was one, but there was also a dead ferret freezer in her house (temporary to eventual cremation, to be fair). That's where you realize that you are not at the pet shop window laughing in delight anymore, no, you are in strange territory. Ferrets in the freezer, then bulk cremation, then she described how they portion out by teaspoonful the percent of ferret ash that each owner gets back. Um.
Yeah, so there were one or two that were vaguely normal, a few that were militant and dedicated, and the remainder were a little alarming. But the raccoon-faced ferrets? Adorable.

The series is noted Here. Very angry I missed the synchro-swimming installment. The film was really good, I'd like to see some of the others. Hope they get replayed.

I am making Buttermilk Cheddar Bread today. Been wondering: all the blogs where photo rights and pattern rights are so righteously defended, why do the intellectual property rights of recipes not concern any one? I often see casual references that the posted recipe is from a website that isn't free to join or a book (also for sale, ahem) that is unique to one author. Now, if the poster has significantly reworked the ingredients or method, I'll stretch that point. But if they have merely rephrased a few things, why is it okay to put that on your own site? Knitting stitches are discrete building blocks, just like ingredients and proportions are, right? My recipe is from Bernard Clayton's Book of Breads and it tastes just as good as my mom's old recipe for cheese bread. Now, if only my oven stayed at a steady temperature instead of rocketing up to 550 every time I set it above 400. That would be helpful.

Aprons Among Us

I have been ripping orange yarn and cheering Latvia today.

The Sunrise Circle Jacket proved to be very large when I started seaming. I had my boyfriend try it on, wanting to know just how huge it was -- and it fit better than I expected, even knowing it slumped all over my shoulders. I was close enough to stitch count, but apparently the row gauge was off, off, and more off. Strangely, I'm not ready to step off a cliff -- I am quite calm. It feels good to have knitted a whole sweater (I know I'm capable of finishing a large stockinette project without bailing or breaking out into cables now) and the practice in first-time seaming was surprisingly fun (great using a slightly darker yarn if you have to rip it out). So, this sadder-but-wiser girl unraveled the whole sweater while winding it around a big cake carrier, hung it off hangers and doorknobs, and weighted it down with mugs, glass jars, and trigger bottles of cleaner. My apartment is liberally festooned. The Rowan Pure Wool Aran stinks when wet. Yuck.

Despite that, I am swatching the hexagon texture pattern from Knitting Nature, to maybe make a cardi. Not Norah's asymmetrical one, but something simple enough. I'm going to use this yarn for something! But I also vindictively bought the Reynolds Odyssey to make a fractal cardigan from the same book. The colors are too pretty and I'm terrified they won't be around if I decide to buy them in the future. Binge after purging the other project?

I saw a production of the Synge play The Playboy of the Western World this week. I read the play for no good reason a few years ago and preferred it; it was wonderful to see it performed at last, and so ably. The PICT cast did a great job, I loved the leads, but the best moment was the apron. The female barkeep takes off her apron at the end of the night: does she put it on a hook to hang? No! There are two nails at the high corners of the window, she raises the apron, twirls the ties around the nails, and Presto! Curtain! It felt so right, I think it has to be historically accurate. And of course, I don't have curtains but I do have aprons. The solution has come to me from the 19th century through historical drama. Who needs the Home channel?

Requiem:

Ahh, wet sheep smell

Works in progress - and/or purgatory.

Right is my spinning -- I am almost done with my first bag of roving! Will it look terrible when i get the nerve to ply it? Of course! But I'm going to knit something with it anyway. I do dread the moths. Hand spun looks so much more insect-edible than store bought. Maybe it will decoy the moths away from more expensive skeins.

Center: my Sunrise Circle Jacket is now in Limbo. All of the pieces are done, but all of them need to be adjusted. I have a complicated and random system of row-fixing crochet chains either holding last rows or marking rows to cut back to. Since the pattern seems enormous on most people, I stopped before the end of the fronts, gave it a douse, and am drying it before making alterations. On each piece. At both ends.

I hope the wool doesn't smell this bad after each washing. I can smell the eucalyptus on the other items from the load, but the orange has a different flavor.

I did a seam or two to see how things are lining up, and it wasn't onerous. They didn't shrink any faster than the sweater body, so that's a success.

Yes, it is a perilous cliff . . . will dahlofwool's first sweater ever be wearable?

Left is some doomed thing I keep trying to turn into a market bag. The hemp, it wants to work with me, but so far we are struggling.