December in the Maritimes

One of my big reasons for moving to this part of Canada is that the bitterest cold usually doesn't arrive until January and then only lasts for a few weeks. The down side, there's always a down side to winter in Canada, is that in exchange we have days like today--freezing rain is forecast to last for many hours with potential for dramatic icing of power lines and tree limbs with the additional happy thought of all roads as curling rinks. And then tomorrow, it'll be +12C, with of course, more rain. I can never quite decide what clothing or foot gear will work for the entire day. 

For you prairie readers, I admit to enjoying the rain. I know that's hard to understand in the land of 'dry cold' but trust me, the dry cold thing is a myth, -35C with a hefty wind chill factor is simply unbearable. Oh, and I wear my parka a couple of times a winter.

In other news, the web site and project work for my new venture are both beginning to take shape. I'm very excited about the direction my life and work are taking. It's under wraps yet, but expect an announcement and launch some time in early 2009--once I sort out all my funding issues.

The Xmas knitting list is slowly acquiring check marks for finished projects/objects. Yay! Now if I could just figure out how to set up for regular photos of WIP and FO's I'd no doubt be able to create a much more interesting blog experience for you all. It's on the list, with a gazillion other things, but closer to the top than otherwise.

Time to get the wood stove going, which requires that I dump the ashes first, something I ought to do before I have to skate to the ash bin (see freezing rain, above). Then it is lunch, some soup from a rich chicken stock, decision on what exactly still pending and from there we'll go to Xmas knitting for the afternoon along with note taking for project tasks for the new venture.

Ciao.

Beef and a sturdy red wine

For close to 30 years I have cooked under the tutelage of books by Marcella Hazan. If, as she urges, you do exactly as she directs, you are assured of excellent results. I don't always have access to the wines she wants in her recipes--like I can afford to cook with a Barbera or Barolo? I can't even afford to drink it. While she would not approve, I'm certain, I substitute much lower end South American wines and occasionally an Australian. These wines, in the price range I can afford, often don't have the depth and richness of their Italian cousins, but they're pretty damn good even so.

Today I'm in quest of a good beef stew and Marcella's Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking has the simplest and tastiest of anything I've made. Mine will be made with (gasp!) the heel of an Australian wine, but with the best beef I can buy at the butcher's (never the supermarket). It will be a stove top stew, as I still don't have a working oven. 

I do have a recurring but as yet unfulfilled dream of getting under the stove, via the drawer at the bottom, and seeing if I can remove the element prior to replacing it with a new one. It is one of those jobs that require contortions that make my 61 year old bones rebel at the very thought, never mind the reality. But I rebel even more at the idea of forking out a hundred and fifty bucks to find out that this still won't get the oven working. In truth I need a new stove. This very pricey unit, a mere 7 years old, now has a wipe off surface finish--a soft cloth removes the enamel (enamel I always believe adhered to metal, but now I learn what powder coat really means--that wipes off). 

A stove/oven rant could easily take up the rest of the day. I've been baking and cooking in a 'toaster' oven for 18 plus months. And yes, that's too much fun.

So, back to the beef stew in red wine and happier thoughts....all I need is 2 lbs of flank steak stew meat, a 'sturdy' red wine, onions, carrots, celery, peas and olive oil. Yum.

A white white world

First snow storm of the season arrived overnight and what a dump it was. Nothing is moving on the street, don't even think the plows have been through yet, or if they have it hasn't made a significant difference to the state of the road. I won't be getting out of the driveway any time soon either. There's a foot of snow blown up against the kitchen door which I opened (and got a face full of blowing snow) in an effort to see if I could make it to the ash can to dump a load of warm ashes from the wood stove. Nope, there needs to be shovelling to get to the ash can. Snow shovelling will ensue later in the day because I'll need to dump those ashes if I want to keep a fire going over the next few days. 

While it is very white, windy and surprisingly cold this morning I'm toasty beside the wood stove and won't be moving very far from it for the next five months or so. 

Ah, I hear a snow plow; there he is filling up the driveways as he passes and clears the street. How nice is that? Once I had a look, I'm not sure 'nice' even in a snarky way, quite covers the four foot high bank the plow deposited at the bottom of my driveway.

I can't actually shovel to any degree anymore, maybe make a little path to the ash can or remove an inch of snow from the back porch so I don't track it in when I fetch firewood. I'm hoping Doug my neighbour is still willing to do the big stuff, haven't talked to him in a while so I don't know if he's up for that this winter. Last winter he wasn't working but I think he's now back at work.

And there's no hope today of the lovely dinner I was invited to and so looking forward to at Trattoria della Nonna in Lunenburg. The weather's too icky and the roads will be a miserable slidey mess. Sadly it ain't worth the risk or aggravation. And neither Lisa or I have winter tires.

Meanwhile I'm knitting away on the arm warmers and little fingerless mitts that are really cute in left over Noro from the felted bag project of last summer. You know, my trombone bag. It has a role in my world as a stash bag, but would easily be useful as a trombone cosy. The proportions are all out of whack. Colour's nice though... Maybe I should make a hat from the Noro too?

Fibery decor

Today I propose to own up to the fact that all things fibre is my decorating standard. The sofa is completely overwhelmed with projects, there are baskets of yarn everywhere in my sitting room (the room with the wood stove). Slightly further afield, in the living room the spinning wheels, a drum carder, swift, ball winder, skein winder and rocking chair jostle for position with baskets of fleece or prepared fibre and more baskets of yarn. 

There's no way this decor could be considered tidy in my current application of it. I do live in hope of organizing the stash(es) one of these days, or perhaps simply creating space to move in each room. Every available surface in the living room holds fibre in some form: batts, roving, skeins, balls and bobbins. I'm a busy, and clearly very disorganized little worker bee. Oh, and do spider web swags count as fibery decor? And no, there will NOT be pictures!  

The kitchen is not immune from this decor style either. There's a bag of fresh fleece (fresh from the sheep!) by the door and a bucket of draining washed fleece by the sink. Gotta keep the supply coming, eh what?

Now if only I could figure out how to spin or knit in my sleep.

There's currently almost a sense of urgency to my efforts with fibre. I feel I've lost so much time. Time I've spent doing other things like making a living, and then not working on fibre projects. Then again, cruising to 62 and being a Capricorn messes with my sense of time anyway. Could be we need a bit of balance. And how bloody likely is that??? 

'Tis the season...

For 'startitis'. Oh but I have it baaaadddd! What else is a person to do with a lot of time attached to the sofa enduring a virus that simply will not let go? Come up with too many exciting projects, that's what. 

So far we have another version of the Eye of Partridge Shawl because the one I made last summer, and thought very little of at the time, has proven to be such a treasure in the wearing that I want/need to make another in a fun colour: purples, blues & lavenders. There's the Orkney Pi from a previous post.  There are three new pairs of socks, one pair completed. The arm warmers are making good progress, as is the Rhinebeck Sweater. A sweet little neck warmer in merino cashmere was done early in the week. The top down roll neck sweater in cochineal dyed merino has the neck portion done and miscellaneous other still orphaned socks get picked up and put down as I madly try to do a little of everything. It helps me feel that I just might live through this stupid endless virus. 

And just in case you are shaking your head at my knitting folly, please note that the Farmer's Almanac is calling for a 'numbingly cold' winter. I'm simply making sure that I have something to warm every single part of my person for the duration, with multiple layers should that prove necessary.

What I really want to be doing though is preparing content for my website project, but sadly there's nothing I can do to clear my head of virus & snot to make that possible at the moment.

I did spin on my Quebec wheel (aka Ida) for about 20 minutes a few days ago, but that was all I could manage for upright in several days. The new bobbins my friend Soren turned out on his lathe work wonderfully well and the wheel 'goes like stink'. Once we make friends a bit more, Ida and I, she'll be the dedicated sock yarn wheel because of her incredible speed. I'm still learning how to make my twist consistent, I think we need a good long draw technique--but she's a lovely old lady and we'll be fine once we spend more quality time together.  

Pictures of all of the above to be posted soon....

9 Gift Sock Scenarios

I recently forwarded a pair of hand knit socks to a friend, and for some as yet unknown reason I have not heard anything about how these have been received, except that the post office at least has done its part.  This leaves me with no reasonable option but to list the scenarios which have been running through my mind, namely:

1. Socks received, hated them on sight.

2. Socks received but feet have been abducted by aliens and socks don't fit the stumps.

3. Feet so precious now, married as they are, that hand knit socks from the past too embarrassing to own.

4. Socks have been wickedly 'short sheeted' so recipient can't get them on.

5. Sock recipient in a daze from recent pie eating event, can no longer find feet, so socks now irrelevant.

6. Socks immediately re-gifted (to the postman?) and original recipient too ashamed to own up to this.

7. Advancing age has made sock recipient forget that the postman brought a package, or where it was placed; possibly also forgot what socks are for?

8. Wearing socks on hands, so don't have to acknowledge socks, but will get around to saying something about the wonky mitts one of these days, working up to it.

9. Oh, those were socks? From you? Thought it was junk mail so put it in the blue box.  All gone now.

Knitting myself well

A blur of a week, what with trying to breathe past virus and the daily workout of coughing up my lungs. Significant improvement to my abs must result, as everything hurts enough.

A great week for mindless knitting to finish up projects however. Let it never be said that I do not make good use of my time, in whatever condition I find myself.

The down side of course is that as I begin to feel better, I have attacks of 'startitis' that are so frequent that more blurring takes place.  I began the Orkney Pi shawl in Zephyr wool & silk lace weight. In fact, I began it several times and may have to begin it again because I think the first round is a bit wonky and I don't want to knit thousands upon thousands of yards and millions of stitches only to see that the first dozen are wrong.  It's a ruddy trial to begin a circular shawl with ten tiny wee stitches on three needles that just won't behave.  Once I'm past the beginning it knits up beautifully.

I'm nearly done the Hemlock Ring blanket in blue mohair that I began in August.  I think I know who it will go to, but we'll have to give it a bath and make certain it 'works' before I announce the recipient.

Once I'm upright more of each day I'll finish the arm warmers, blend yarn with borrowed wool combs to spin for the socks that will go with them.  For now it continues to be sofa time in my household, so I can stay as close to the wood stove as possible without roasting body bits. It isn't as if I mind knitting time on this order, I only mind the virus and coughing all night. Hopefully the latter will be done soon.

Post-election blahs

Wouldn't you know it, all that exposure to electors made me sick! Not from them being electors of course, but because many of them were generously sharing viruses. My theory about a virus is that it won't leave me alone until I share it with you. 

The election itself was probably enough to make me sick. In the poll I worked the turn-out was, in a word, pathetic. Less than 50%. Either nobody cares that we have a democracy or as I also heard during the day, that people whose families have lived in the same place since before Confederation refused to vote if it required them to show picture ID. I mean really, people. What's the big deal? We show picture ID in lots of other contexts. Apparently elderly rural folk find this requirement beyond obnoxious. But while others in the poll knew these folks, I didn't. In an urban or any large poll you wouldn't know the people. A requirement for identification (and there were dozens upon dozens of options) hardly seems a good reason to stay home. I think what I find so appalling about the voter turn-out, whatever the reason for it is that in so many places in the world people pay with their lives to vote and we can't get our butts off the sofa to go do this? Sad, very, very sad.

And then there was the outcome. Not a surprise but a great disappointment to me. My wish (okay, fantasy) was for a NDP/Green party coalition to run the country, not a increased mandate (albeit still a minority one) for wacko Tories who don't get the urgency of environmental issues, and in fact deny there are issues at all. I was very impressed by the moxie of the Green Party leader. One of these days Canada will elect someone with vision. Meanwhile I promise not to hold my breath until that happens.

I took a jaunt to Wolfville on Friday to look for likely properties. I'd hoped to stay overnight in the valley but felt too rotten to inflict myself on dear friends, and didn't want to share my virus there. I prefer to share anonymously so you (whoever you are) can't track it back to me.  How very nice of me, eh?

One of the highlights of my day trip though was a view of a house that meets all my criteria in terms of cuteness, breathing space, location, size, studio and office space, but fails to meet the price range I'm working with by a mere $100K. Ah well, can't have everything I suppose--but it's good stuff to be dreaming on even so.

The other thing that was a spectacular first for me was apple picking. How is it I have lived 10 years in Nova Scotia and have never before been in an orchard to pick apples? We found a U-pick place where they had Northern Spy apples as well as the usual Cortland, Gravenstein, Macintosh, Ida Red, and Russet varieties. I now have 10 pounds of handpicked Northern Spys in my pantry and as soon as I share my virus with someone and it leaves me alone, I'll make something deliciously apple-y.

Finished the chocolate lama/mohair sweater coat and it is wonderful, everything I hoped it would be. I think there may be enough sunshine today to take some photos. The next spinning project: beige lama/mohair will make a good lap blankie. I have a pattern for one that uses a variety of gansey patterns. That might be fun. Need to track the pattern down so I can figure out how I need to spin the fibre for this. 

We had hard frost overnight so that's done in the geraniums I forgot to take in last night. Ah well, I felt too rotten to bother with them and believed the weather channel that the temperature wouldn't drop below freezing.

My only activity in the last 36 hours has been to throw logs into the wood stove to try to get warm. The ambient temperature is fine, but the virus tells me that I'm still cold. No amount of wool sweater layers seems to make a difference either. Some part of me believes that if I keep knitting sweaters I'll be warmer this winter. While that works once I'm up and dressed in same, it doesn't do a thing to get me out of bed on a morning when the house is cold. I still have the oil furnace thermostat set really low as it isn't winter, but I might have to reconsider for the duration of the virus.

In my quest to share my virus anonymously I believe I'll head to 'China-Tire' for a replacement wheel for my wheel barrow--one that can't go flat. Wish me luck?

Joblet

I have a joblet to do, as a poll clerk for Elections Canada. Who knew this was such a complex task that it required a 3 hour training session and a 100 page manual? 

It will also require considerable stamina. I must arrive at the polling station location, a rural fire hall, at 7:45 am and remain there until the ballots are counted, probably by 9:30 pm. To en-sure this, I will be called by someone at 6:15 (how nice is that?).  

I am required to bring sufficient food and water to get me through the entire day. I may have call-of-nature breaks but every time either I or the DRO are  away from the table, voting will stop until we are back. I have a long list of tasks, hence the 100 page manual. The only thing I don't have is the big responsibility and I'm grateful for that. For example I may not touch a ballot at any point in the process. That's the DRO's job. Thankfully I have plenty of other papers and forms to touch or I might have a problem with that (big grin!). 

I have already voted so I don't have to concern myself with my basic civic duty on the day, only the advanced version, aka poll clerk, which will make me the stunning amount of $167.00 which works out to what? $11-12 per hour? What I will say is that it is interesting to understand this part of the electoral process, and I expect to be a very, very tired old fart when it is done.

Okay, I have a 'thing' about....

...ripping out knitting projects. In the last few weeks I've ripped out three projects to keep myself on track with knitting everything twice. So far so good, eh?

...pens. As a writer I can never (never!) have too many nice, good, fancy, or expensive? pens. Same goes for notebooks, printer paper and watercolour paper.  Oh, and mechanical pencils (what's with that?)

...garlic. It's autumn. Winter isn't far away. One can never! have too much good garlic to approach a winter's worth of cooking and soup making.

...good olive oil. If I have several litres of the tasty stuff I'm rich, well olive oil, garlic, onions and chili flakes.

...blankies. I've been cold in winter, as a child and latterly as a younger adult. I have more blankies now than anyone requires, just in case.

...food in the freezer, even if it isn't edible. There's comfort in having a full freezer, even if it is mostly frozen compost now.  If push came to shove, I'd still be able to eat, I just wouldn't enjoy it all that much.

...the pantry. It should always contain plenty of canned tomatoes, tuna, beans and tetra packs of broth.

...having plenty of toilet paper on hand. Nothing worse than being too poor to have tp when you need it, that and tissues for one's runny nose.

...the fibre stash.  One can never have a stash of spinning fibre or knitting yarn too vast. I never know when inspiration will strike and in winter it can be days until the yarn store opens or the post-person delivers your project order.

...the wood pile and kindling.  Can you spell warm?

...hunkering down. As soon as the weather cools I knit sweaters, socks, hats and count my wealth in terms of all of the above.  Looking good this year, in spite of not having a job.

You know you're onto something, when...

It has taken about a month but with my +T3/-T4 experiment well underway I'm finally back to my project work.  Hurray! And oh, what a project this is proving to be: book, workbook(s), web site(s) and workshops. Everything I wrote this morning gave me another five items for my 'to do' list. The good news is, this is fun; okay, my idea of fun. And to have the brain engaged at long last as well as the motivation and energy to do the work--I'm positively dancing with glee.

Once I've had a run to the grocery store and a cup of tea afterwards, it's back to the desk(s) (laptop desk and desk-desk) to continue my progress today. Yowza, get outta her way!

Dyefest 2008...the first

Since the 60's or 70's I have been interested in natural dye materials and the beautiful colours they produce on wool and silk. My experience until now has been with onion skins (of which I have plenty as I usually go through 35 to 50 pounds of onions in a winter). Over the summer friend Pia and I bought a box of more exotic dye materials I'd only previously read about, never worked with. Our treasure box included alkanet, cochineal, tumeric, indigo solution, cutch, and logwood, plus a quantity of mordant chemicals. We were like kids in a a very big candy store.

Pia and her husband Soren set up a terrific dye workshop in the bottom of the barn. We had two gas rings, one was a turkey deep fryer in a previous life and I think the other was perhaps a sauna heater. There were four dye pots of various sizes to work with, at least a dozen plastic buckets; water from a long hose meant we didn't have to haul water to the barn from elsewhere. Given the number of dye pots we ran over the course of the event, a count I place at 16 give or take a few and not counting soaking baths or mordanting baths. My count is based partly on the amount of yarn and fibre I brought home and partly on memory of the number of cochineal, logwood and alkanet baths we had trying to exhaust the dye. Pia still has several buckets of usable dye liquor to work with, but we were exhausted and had to end the festivities so we could get back to the rest of our responsiblities and lives. Oh, but it was so much fun!

I now have the house festooned with brightly coloured skeins and fibre, while I wait none too patiently for it all to dry. Today anything that is still damp can go outdoors to finish drying, and I suppose I should get the dyepots out of the car and into the garage for storage. Though really I hate the thought of putting them away. I have so many more ideas of things to try, but as I now don't have any skeins left to dye, I have my work cut out for me this winter to get a lot of spinning done for the May 09 dyefest. Then again I could 'cheat' and order in a quantity of undyed yarn?

Perhaps now that my initial excitement has been worked through I can actually plan projects to dye as Pia did. All I wanted this time was colour, any colour, because it was all so exhilarating.

I do have 8 x 113 gm skeins of worsted weight merino dyed in the brightest cochineal we got (a vest perhaps?); 6 x 50 gm skeins of mohair for a shawl in another version of cochineal that was more purpleish and one skein of Polwar

th sock yarn dyed a soft lavender from the alkanet bath. I also dunked my Polwarth shawl into the purpleish cochineal bath and it is a lovely colour now.

So, there I sat in the lawn chair I had the sense to bring, crunching up alkanet roots into small flakes.  Then I ground the cochineal bugs to a fine powder in a blender for two different approaches, the bright and the purpleish.  Both were soaked overnight in jars to bring out the most colour possible from this rather expensive material ($45 for 225 gms of bugs!). Our entire treasure box, clearly, was a fabulous gift at $50 split between us.

The learning curve for this neophyte natural dyer was big, very big. I don't think I could have had more fun and I'm sure I haven't since my dear friend Kate Waterhouse (1899-1995) introduced me to natural dyeing from local plants (on the prairies) in the early 70's. The sense of wonder and magic she shared has stayed with me. I remember coming into her house and poking my nose into pots simmering on the stove, never sure whether it was a dyepot or dinner! We read then about things like cochineal and indigo but these materials were completely out of reach to us and we could only dream over the pictures or descriptions we read. I know that Kate was with me in gleeful spirit during the dye

fest and I thought often of how much she would have loved this experience.
Pia and I, once we had a dyepot ready and filled with fibre or yarn, would take turns poking it with tongs just to glory in the colour and watch it take-up into the fibre. I think we spent the entire time with great big silly grins on our faces. I don't think fun and delight gets any

better than that. 

And here's the help...aren't they lovely?

Beginning a Journey

For a number of years I have been living with a hypothyroid condition, as well as the jolly Addison's that manifested in 2001. Is there a relationship between years of untreated hypothyroidism and collapsed adrenals? All too likely it seems.

I have been taking Synthroid for the hypothyroid situation for a decade, but never really felt well, better definitely than before medication, but not what you'd call either energetic or happy. I have little enthusiasm except for knitting which requires very little movement or thinking. My approach has been if that's all I could do, at least I'd do it very well. And so I have.

But, what of energy, enthusiasm, clear, focused thinking and sustained work? Dream on girl--that seemed long out of reach and the best I could do was accept the situation and make the best of that too. Resignation has become my middle name (I don't actually have a middle name so I can use whatever I like as the situation warrants). When faced with something I believe cannot be changed, I do what every relatively sane person does--try to live with it and get on with whatever is left. After the Addison's diagnosis my world became significantly smaller as I learned to accept massive weight gain (50 to 60 pounds) and much less energy without any capacity for sustained work or movement (such as gardening or beach walking).

Recently help and encouragement from friend Pia has given me new hope in an area where I believed nothing whatever could be done. Synthroid you see is only one of 4 thyroid hormone components of a healthy thyroid. In the 70's the T4 hormone was isolated, synthesized and became the accepted treatment for hypothroidism. Thinking was that as long as we had T4 in our systems enough T3 would be converted in the body to provide the essential amount of that.  Before the 70's everyone with hypothyroidism was treated with desiccated thyroid from pigs and this contained T1, T2, T3 and T4. Enter the miracle of chemistry which believes that one component could stand in for the lot and if those of us taking T4 alone didn't feel well, continued to gain weight, have trouble concentrating, focusing, getting out of brain fog or being capable or motivated for any sort of physical activity, well--that was our personal moral failing and nothing to do with treatment protocol. 

Resources for thyroid information include The Thyroid Solution by Ridha Arem and this website.

I am now on the second day of a very low, introductory dose of T3. I cannot truly believe how I feel and don't yet trust it (why would I, given my history?). I feel awake. I want to move, I can focus my thoughts, I'm not lethargic, uncaring, or dull.  Who is that I wonder? And what can she do with her life now?

Today, the answer is, not that much. The weather is rotten with the remnants of tropical storm Hanna saturating the air and giving periods of deluge besides. There is little light, it feels like dusk, that's how dark it is. But it's the weather--not how I feel--that limits what I do with this day. Wind and driven rain, and my newly delivered firewood, uncovered as yet, is getting a thorough soaking. Damnation.

Hey, if my eyes are that open, I could give that microscopic silk another go--assuming I can actually sit still long enough! Actually I want to see about finishing a vest I began last winter which would be perfect as the weather cools into autumn. I only have a bit of the collar and trim left to do, but in worry that I'd not have enough yarn I put it aside. I've recently had a new idea to deal with not enough dyed handspun yarn so now I have the confidence to finish it.

Knitting with paper clips?

I have a quantity of very fine silk. Think fine sewing thread. The last use for this silk (oh, so many years ago) was in an 8 harness silk satin that I wove 55 inches wide at 90 threads to the warp inch and about 60 to the weft inch. The fabric was beyond glorious but of course without a market for this elegant stuff I had to cut it up and then painted on it; for a few years I sold it as small paintings until a gallery owner told me that nobody cared what I painted on. Sigh.

So I have had a few dozen of these massive cones of silk waiting for a project or two worthy of them. In my current knitting follies I am attempting to knit lace with this yarn. I'm knitting on needles about the diameter of paper clips, 1.75 mm, working on a sample from Sharon Miller's book, Heirloom Knitting. To say this is a challenge would be significant understatement; maybe not on the order of threading a loom at 90 threads to the inch, but challenge enough even so. I made a mistake on the first attempted yarn over and dropped a stitch so now must go in quest of a very very fine crochet hook to resolve that issue--if I can. Yes, thanks, I already know how nuts this is, no need to share that with me, I'll take it as given, shall I?

Will I ever make anything beyond a lace sampler? No idea. I have a serious stubborn streak where fibre challenges are concerned and a pathetic desire for bragging rights in this area as well.  So I may well persevere in spite of all the clear indications of folly, at least until my eyesight gives up.

On needles of much more sensible diameters (4 mm; 5.5 mm and 6 mm) I'm making excellent progress on the Rhinebeck sweater, the lama/mohair jacket and a mohair version of the Hemlock Ring Blanket; so perhaps the silk lace idea is comic relief?

Late summer thoughts

I have two sweaters on the needles which is sure indication that my hard-wired thinking about fall has kicked in as a result of several cooler nights. I'm grateful for the coolness because it is more pleasant to knit wool or mohair when I'm not suffocating in the heat and humidity. I've already mentioned the lama/mohair jacket which is coming along nicely. Thursday I began the 'Rhinebeck' sweater from A Fine Fleece in a superwash/bamboo blend, in a deep red-bronze colour. Yummy yarn and an easy pattern to knit. Pictures to follow as soon as there is a bit of sunlight. Which reminds me I need to set up a photo shoot place indoors soon for woolie projects and other things.

I'm having a lazy morning after several challenging and sleepless nights. Not sure what had me awake but I resolved many of the world's problems in the course of these hours, if only I could remember what I came up with. The entire week had a rotten smell to it, waking and attempting to sleep. Need some tweaking in my meds no doubt and I have a plan, perhaps even a 'cunning plan'.

Another cunning plan is underway to make not quite enough lama/mohair into a finished sweater. I searched the stash and found fleece that is dark and has a longish staple. I will spin that into a singles and then ply it with the last of the lama so I have enough yarn for sleeves. I think that will look okay. I'm loving the texture of the knitting for this piece, but it is most definitely a fall jacket. In fact I suspect it will be warm enough for winter camping in the high Arctic, but happily won't be required for that as I have no current plans to take me to the frozen north.

Since we're discussing my list of cunning plans I have one as well for a 50 year old sweater I own. It was made for me by my Oma van Veen when I was twelve and doesn't quite fit anymore. So here's the plan. I'm going to unravel the sleeves and use the yarn to knit panels between the front and back to attempt to convert this to a vest. I've always loved the colour of this sweater and refused to throw it away simply because it no longer fits all that nicely. The yarn is still beautiful after all these years. I think I now have sufficient knitting skill to pull this idea off; if not I'll unravel the whole thing and do something else with the yarn. Wish me luck.

I seem to have sweaters on the brain at the end of August (it happens every year). It isn't cool enough for sweaters and probably won't be for a month or more if we're lucky and have a nice autumn on the East Coast.

Yesterday was a sad day for CBC radio 2 fans when we heard the last of our favourite programs and program hosts. Disc Drive has been the sound track of my life for 23 years and Jurgen Gothe has entertained me with his witty rants and quips for all that time. Whatever CBC comes up with, they won't be able to match JG for content or audience loyalty, I'd bet on that. The Last Show yesterday was a lovely nostalgia piece that made it a tear-jerker finale for me. Those of us for whom CBC is the sound track of our studio/working lives take these things very hard. I wish I could believe CBC programming knew what it was doing, alienating such a loyal following of listeners in a misguided attempt to attract newer ones. I doubt it will give them joy and then there will be new calls to dismantle the Corp. Great work and vision guys, I'm impressed (not!).

Of All Things...

It is my son's birthday today. Thirty eight years ago he came into the world, ass-backwards and has pretty much, to my great delight, lived up to his entry potential. He has a wicked wit, lighting fast comebacks and is so creative and such a fine writer I'm envious and proud at the same time.

Happy Birthday G. Mommy is proud of you, always! I'm drinking a margarita in your honour today, hope to share a pitcher with you soon and be impressed by your cookery skills: I'm so looking forward to that.

The process

This is what I like.  I have an idea for a project, in this case, a sweater.  I have a fibre stash so I go stash diving to find something likely to make a sweater.  I start spinning a lama/mohair blend, do a swatch (yes, occasionally I do have some kind of fit and actually swatch).  I settle on a gauge and go back to the wheel and spin masses more yarn, ply it and knit.  In a month or six weeks I will have a sweater, made absolutely from scratch (well maybe not, I have this fibre as roving, not raw fleece); but for the sake of my argument I'll say from scratch.  It takes a while to spin enough yarn for a good size sweater but I'm making excellent progress.  Have the back knit and the yarn spun for the front so far; a couple more bobbins and I should have the yarn for the sleeves spun up.

No, it is not cheaper and certainly not faster.  But it is great fun and immensely satisfying to someone endlessly fascinated by what she can do with fibre. And I never stop dreaming of the next thing and the one after that...gotta try that; wonder what that will do; can I make that work at this grist or that gauge. 

Next project: excavate the stash and find the Border Leicester fleece I bought last summer to see what I need to do to it in preparation for the natural dyefest planned for next month.  I need a good think about what I want to make with this fibre as it is very yummy to spin; what I decide to make may influence the colour I'd like to dye it or not.  I now have half of what I need to do basic alum mordanting; tomorrow I need to find cream of tartar somewhere, hopefully at the grocery store.

Some nights I can't sleep for all the projects dancing in my head.  Go figure....

We may have a problem...not!

This morning I got a copy of A Fine Fleece by Lisa Lloyd.  I have now had a quick flip through this beautiful book and I want to make everything in it.  Not only that, but I want to start right this minute, allocating fibre stash to projects and deciding what will be dyed with natural materials and what will get the Magic Carpet Dye for colour.  Then I want to spend the next three months spinning that up and getting going.  I want to do this without the least bit of personal restraint or consideration of things like meals and showers.  I want to dive in and play and play and play until I have everything knit up and wearable. Oh for heavens sake, how am I going to do that?

It isn't as though I don't have a rather extensive WIP (work in progress) knitting queue mounded on the end of my sofa already and in several baskets besides. I wonder how many socks I have on the go? Six? Eight? More?  Shawls? Only 5, not to worry. Nor am I lax in terms of spinning queue--I'm currently working on a dark lama/mohair blend for a sweater which I've begun to knit; laceweight mohair for shawl(s); qiviut laceweight for a scarf or small shawl; sock yarn; and Gotland for my first gansey.

Okay I see the problem.  I need several more lives and need to be able to live them concurrently. What? that's not possible? Why-ever not? Somebody should get on that--and hurry will you.

Just because I stopped weaving (oh, so many years ago) doesn't mean I've in anyway lost my passion for fibre. And weaving, you're on my list for when I, umm, retire.

I can't possibly wear, or use all of this stuff I'm making myself so being on my friends list may prove quite beneficial.  You can start a wish list in the comments, but I can't promise anything by a specific date--I'm much too fickle a spinner and knitter for any such thing. You've figured that out by now I suppose?

Three months and counting

Oh the joy of paid unemployment! I'm having the best summer in five years, even though the weather has been too humid for me to get outdoors much, or move more than my knitting needles some days. Summer is a great time to knit socks, preferably with an oscillating fan nearby slowly moving air across my person. I don't even have to be upright to knit socks--bonus!

There is a bit of work being done of course. Not enough, but some. We'll ramp that up in the next few weeks and get the book draft done. I also have a web site draft and a couple of workshops in draft.  Stay tuned for that!

Wednesday I had an energy audit done on the house by a guy from Sustainable Housing. I knew I had a lovely wind tunnel effect going and that air leakage was so pronounced I did wonder if there were actual walls behind the wallpaper in winter.  Now I have proof!  Apparently I have all the energy efficiency of a tarpaper shack with paper windows.

So this perhaps explains why I spin wool and knit sweaters, shawls and socks at the rate I do--I need them to keep something approaching warm for at least 8 months of the year.  That said, I'd not be happy in a warmer climate as I do enjoy wearing wool sweaters and socks.  My biggest complaint about the air leakage and lack of any insulation is that it costs so much money to pretend to be heating the house.  I don't mind the thermostat set at 16C, but I'd prefer not to pay (or require help to pay) a king's ransom for heating oil to achieve that stupendous amount of warmth.  And the costs are rising at phenomenal rates: in 2000 I paid 54¢ a litre for heating oil; now it is in the $1.10 range (I'm afraid to call and ask for the official cost, and the tank is near empty).

Now I do have a wood stove, a very pretty and efficient blue Pacific Energy, and without it I'd be really cold.  This heating source works best when I'm home during the day so I can keep it going and I sit in the room where the stove is located.

My mind is on winter heating as a result of the energy audit, but today we've got a pleasant summer day, big fluffy clouds, a bit of a breeze and about 25C.  Too bad there was no way to store up summer heat for winter use.  

And just in case you thought that cobwebs had no earthly use (except for spiders of course) I can report that they do show air movement rather well as pointed out by the energy audit guy. That made me chuckle.  Good thing he wasn't looking at dust bunny drift, that might have been embarrassing.

Hemlock Do-Over

I decided that since I like the yarn so much, that once I ripped out 80% of the throw, I might as well pop it back on the needles, albeit larger ones this time and try the thing again. This is in progress and looking better, less bunched up around the pattern and slightly more stretchy. Does this mean we have an actual 'throw' in the making? Stay tuned, I just don't know at this point.



Today I received a surprise (thanks Jane!) of a pretty deep orange organic cotton yarn and Brittany birch needles on which to knit it. I believe this is destined to be an orange cat with perhaps a little white on the paws. If it turns out I have to knit it twice (see previous posts) the yarn will take it and not complain. Nor will I because the entire cat project (including whiskers!) will be significantly fewer than the 550 plus stitches of the recently frogged throw.

I'm still enjoying knitting the Hemlock pattern and for sure I'm better at it than I was in the first go-round. Oh, but what I'll do for practice. Maybe some day I'll be good at reading patterns and then following instructions; I'm certainly acquiring a reasonable facility with knitting.

The sky is falling...

Yes, it is. More than usual this humid summer. It has been falling (in the kitchen) for some years, but this summer it is a positive snow storm of falling sky. And this year the 'texture' that some folks I know like, is more on the floor than on the ceiling. Living in interesting times....

Hemlock, schmemlock

It never fails, I have to knit everything twice. Not because I'm so enthusiastic that I can't wait to start a pattern again as soon as I finish it. No, that at least would be understandable. I knit everything twice because I don't read the directions properly or through, the first time.

So that poor Hemlock Ring throw turned into a doily. A rather pretty and bumpy doily, I will give it that, but it ain't no where near being a throw. I tried blocking it. Hah! No way was this going to block to anything except doily size.

I resigned myself to taking it apart and using the yarn for something else because I now don't have enough yarn to do the thing properly on bigger needles. What to do, oh, what to do? No more yarn in the required colour is available.

I immediately went stash diving to find something else I could knit the pattern in. Success--I have a mohair that is knitting up nicely, on much bigger needles and so we're doing the thing again. Since the pattern is great fun, I'm not too upset about this. The mohair had an unfortunate time in the dye bath so isn't dyed consistently. I fancy this will not be a problem for me with a throw, but you never really know until the thing is done. So there's a possibility that I'll have to do it another time or two to get it right. Do I get bang for my yarn dollars or what?

Make-over follies, part the second

They're going to take away my girl-card, any second, I just know it.

How do I explain that while I was being primped, soothed with warm towels and slathered in potions and lotions, greased and parafined (hands & feet); my hair being done for two hours in something called multi-dimensional low lights, that I found it simply and utterly comical? Monty Python does make-over? 

I was asked several times: aren't you excited?  Well, no, not really. I'll own up to being somewhat concerned however, say about my sanity.  I rather felt like I was indulging a group of young children. You know, you're visiting their house and they want to play barbie, so being a tolerant and reasonably kind person you agree, but then spend most of the time wondering how you fell down the rabbit hole into barbieland.

Another way to describe the experience (which wasn't a bad experience by any stretch, just odd in my world) is that I spent the afternoon (four hours!) on a Star Ship which landed on a planet where all the 'aliens' are passionate about creating beauty or some geriatric version of it in my case, with the most amazing potions you can imagine.  And then, like the fiction it is, you look exactly the same to yourself but everyone else, perhaps knowing what this has cost, or because they are part of the mass delusion on this particular planet, says your 'new look' is beautiful.

As I said in the earlier post, I'm grateful for the gift I won, but overall I found it the most odd and comical experience.  And didn't I want any make-up, to renew my blush and lip gloss (renew what? I never wear make-up so do not have this blush or lip gloss thing).

So yes, I spent the afternoon down the rabbit hole on an alien planet.  The women there were very very nice and good at what they do.  I'm a lost cause, my girl-card will be revoked and that will the end of it.  It's okay, I'm resigned, think I can live with that much more readily than the alternative. For I'm not sure how often I can dance down the rabbit hole, no matter how nice the denizens of that planet.

I do, it should be said, have a blue streak in my hair and my grey now has 'definition'.  Oh well, I couldn't come away completely unscathed, or maybe it was the time travel I attempted that got me the blue streak.  We'll never know...so much for this particular folly!  The REVEAL! (in progress--wait for it)

Okay, now I need a martini!

Face-plant in the yarn/fibre stash

Oh, but I have a bad case of startitis--I have so many projects started that they are weighing down one side of my sofa and the better part of the ottoman.  Earlier UFO's (unfinished objects) have been removed to bags and baskets in another room.

I'd like to say this is a result of a great many brilliant project ideas but in fact I'm merely fickle. A new yarn or pattern comes to my attention and I'm off to try it this very minute  My current love is a Hemlock Ring Throw which I'm knitting in a merino/bamboo blend that is utterly dreamy in the hands and looks wonderful besides.  Of course I've been clipping along with this and have knit myself into a problem with the pattern--but that's not unusual for me.  

On the sock needles I have a yummy merino/alpaca blend in a colour called Wicked Witch--a great thrill to knit when I'm out and about (aka waiting in the doctor's office) for not only do I have five sharp pointy sticks in my hands but I'm thinking wicked witch thoughts to go with the yarn colours.  Be very afraid of this old lady!

Do you suppose it is time to take a bit of an inventory of fibre projects and perhaps even prioritize them?  I have qiviut I'm spinning and also a beautiful kid mohair, both being spun as a lace-weight (approx 880 yards per 100 grams).  It takes forever to spin up a bobbin at this weight, but that also means I'm getting a lot of bang for the buck.  Same goes for knitting everything twice (because I foul it up one or more times); how's that for economical? I've also plied some of the mohair with a strand of fine silk and knit a small test swatch to see what it looks like.  I'll now throw both a bit of yarn and the swatches (there are several) into a dye bath to see what I get.  Dye bath colour will be as deep a turquoise as I can make since I'm currently fascinated by a jewel tone turquoise and want it somewhere in my life!

Book project and web site development are moving along at a reasonable pace.  No wandering or coffee shop trips have been indulged in this week though I'm about ready for both as I'm feeling rather house-bound this morning.  Perhaps a beach walk is in order, as I've not had one for quite some time.  I'd better check the tide clock and see where the tide is then.  Good, the tide is on its way out.  Think I'm off to the beach for an hour's walkies and I'll take my walking poles and get a decent workout too.

The first of the broad beans were available at the market garden where I buy my summer veggies and I'm looking forward to having them for supper. These are an expensive treat, but oh so good.  Oh and the first raspberries were also available, now that's heaven.  I've given up trying to grow anything in my yard except a few herbs in pots because I would have to do so much to amend and build soil that it seems a rather pointless effort.  I may change my mind next year, but this year I'm buying from local producers again.

Make-over follies, part the first

Today I met with the Team who will conduct the make-over I won.  I am a very uninformed participant in this as in the past twenty years (okay, forty if you must know) I have only had haircuts and once or twice in my life I had perms and only once have I ever indulged in coloured hair.  So I am pretty much a 'salon virgin'.  

How will these earnest young women deal with someone who doesn't know what a facial is; who's never had a manicure or make-up done professionally? Being made up for tv appearances doesn't count, that's only enough war paint to prove you are an animate being rather than cadaver material.  I'm not sure they think that they've got a live one as it stands now.  But they gently fondled my hair so they could make recommendations on what they'd like to do to it.  I was next the subject of a skin analysis (big magnifier, bright light) by someone with a very soft touch.  The general tone of the experience was very reassuring, but so far I'm probably not responding as someone excited by the opportunities I'm being given (sorry about that).  I'm pretty unsure about this and whether I'll like it; worried I'll break out in a rash or come away either with something in the hair department too geeky to endure or so nice I'll have to mortgage my future to be able to afford it regularly.

Then there is the cranky feminist part of me that wonders why on earth I'd participate in something so obviously decadent and pointless.  I don't have a good response to this except to cite my curiosity to see what it is all about.  And for the record I'm not unappreciative of the fact that this is a generous gift.

They Rock, and then some!

Today I said farewell to an amazing group of women I've been working with for the last ten weeks as Cindy and I facilitated the PLA Portfolio program.  This has been a truly awesome experience from which I have learned so much.  It was a privilege to co-lead a process where the women reflected on their life experience and learned to recognize that they have the resiliency, courage and strengths to do whatever they choose to do next.  

Watching these women change as they grew stronger and more self assured--I'm not sure I can describe that adequately though I can say that being able to help in anyway gives me the most satisfaction of anything I do.  This is probably my 7th group at least and while every group is different in terms of individuals and the dynamics created in that group--I think that I've rarely witnessed such changes.  I've certainly never seen a more caring and supportive group of women.

So here I sit trying to capture how I feel in words, and all I can do is blubber in weepiness--you guys got to me, you really, really did and I'm going to miss you more than I can say.  I know I'll get updates on what you're doing, but it won't be the same as seeing you for three hours every week and hearing first hand what you're up to and the triumphs you're achieving as you build the lives you so richly deserve for yourselves and your families.

You rock!  Every one of you!  'Sisters are doing it for themselves...'

Stash wrangling and trash toss

I have (what is known in fibre circles as) a stash.  Perhaps, by some measures, even a rather significant stash especially if I include unspun fleeces.  Spring is slowly making itself known in this area and with it comes without fail the critters that enjoy dining on stash.  Something must be done.  

I read today that knitters and spinners are serious consumers of ziplock bags.  I did not know until recently that said bags come in very large sizes, including a 'Hagar' size lunch bag which is large enough to hold an entire 6 to 8 pounds of fleece.  Well.  Now we have potential stash management on a whole new order.  Fibre stored in ziplocks can be seen and that means that I can glory in my stash much more easily than when it is stored in plastic storage tubs.  And why have stash if you cannot spend time with it, fondle it, dream it into projects and if the need is great, roll around in it.  

Even more is possible however.  I can organize the stash, so that all the sock yarn is in one place; all the lace yarn projects are safely zipped up with their patterns; all the UFO's can now be bagged and so shuffled without the needles falling out or critical bits unravelling.  I can leave notes to myself in each project bag or go wild and actually write on the bags.  There's no end to how much I could organize: little bags in bigger bags for instance.  The mind boggles.

Trash toss also requires bags and boxes but happily neither are expensive, though they aren't much fun either.  Trash toss is fraught with much more angst than stash wrangling and comes with guilt too.  You'd think I'd be normal and have guilt about stash accumulation; but no, I have guilt about what I throw out; or need to toss and don't.

The trash toss is long overdue, and things are in such a state that I've felt the need to ask for professional help.  I cannot seem to get motivated for clearing or cleaning--there's so much stuff to do that is infinitely more entertaining.  So everywhere I look there is stuff that either ought to be shuffled into some permanent and practical home if it is living here; or tossed if it has lost its claim to usefulness in my life.  Anything I consider tossing though seems to be stuck to me with some boomerang quality.  

Why, for instance, do I need to keep a ten year old computer that I haven't used now for at least two years?  I've done my best to find a home for it and should not be surprised (but I am) that nobody wants it, even for free.  All this equipment has done in the last several years is take up way too much space in my office.  Now part of the reason it hasn't moved on is because some of it is so heavy I cannot move it by myself; but that's not the critical factor between me and the recycling.  No, the issue is, as soon as it goes, I'll find some wonderful use for it.  Or, as in the present case, worry that I have done something extraordinarily stupid by dumping perfectly useful plastic.  

Sigh.

What I really hate about trash tossing is all the decisions it requires of me.  I have to weigh each of these decisions in several bizarre manners.  Will I need this again in the next decade? Have I used this in the previous decade? Did I pay too much for it (or am I still paying for it)? What story does it represent in my life? Is it a story I'm willing to to live without (not, you might notice, the item)? Who gave this to me--and what's the story of that? 

I can see, theoretically, that if the item is unused and likely to remain so, it should not be taking up real estate in my too cluttered life/world.  But get rid of it, forever?  Way too hard to do or make a decision about.  Hence the need for professional help--someone who isn't wrapped up in the stories but, because I have asked her to help me get organized, sees things in terms of their real function.  Which is not to say that I'll give up everything with a story to it--that won't and doesn't need to happen.  I will however have less stuff that's just in my way and that I have to figure out how to clean around and/or not trip over when moving from point A to point B in my house.  Apparently where other people see a hallway as a passage, I see an area that can hold 5 or 6 book cases and stacks of boxes with yarn and fibre stash.  And what are stairs for except as a kind of filing system for things on their way up or down?  A bedroom is a sometime library, right?  For books to be read or books newly read, or books to be read again--the books I want to keep especially close for awhile.

Ah, the books.  I know it is time for a major cull--and with seventeen mostly double shelved book cases, is it any wonder that even thinking about this task makes me weary?  On occasion I have begun the cull only to find dozens upon dozens of books I want to read again to see if the experience is the same as the first time I read the book, or whether I or the book or both have changed in thirty five years.  So far only my favourite Victorians and pre-Victorians have any staying power.

On the needles this week:  the Pi Shawl, have knit it backwards several times (tink, tink, tink) and will do that again--I think I finally see what the problem is.  A lovely first Primavera sock, a Moss & Cable sock and a 'yarn over' cable sock.  Socks, as usual, well represented in the current projects pile; there are two other shawls projects on the needles and neither is moving forward. Now that I'm not so weary and beginning to realize that I am NOT presently employed, I hope to make progress on several of my languishing projects.

Cape Breton & Beyond

I have now returned from my very long drive to Sydney.  I drove up on Saturday (what? seven hours driving, no problem!) since there were 10-15 cm of snow forecast for Sunday.  And what a pretty day Sunday actually was--I saw the storm from my hotel room, where I was happily ensconced, napping and knitting.  I highly recommend the hotel Cambridge Suites as the comfort level was excellent; it was a clean, well thought out suite and I enjoyed the most comfortable bed ever in a hotel.  As I said to the front desk staff as I was leaving--most hotels I have to ask myself what the difference is between sleeping on the floor and sleeping in their bed.  Not here though--it was very cozy indeed. 

The two 'information sessions' I delivered, one in Sydney on Monday and the second on my way home, in Truro on Tuesday went very well.  Monday night's stay in Truro did not meet with my approval so the least said about it the better.  The place stank of stuff that some hotels seem to spray around to pretend to that 'fresh air' designation that gives me an asthma attack.  No such yuk in Sydney; and that's my new standard to measure any subsequent hotel experience.

It was again a long time without good coffee and I have a new theory about coffee in most restaurants.  I now think it is made by boiling stove pellets.  Disagree with me if you can!

Today was the second to last day of my contract and things are in nearly settled down mode--I'm still responsible for a final report and I'll do that later in June--after I've had a bit of a rest/break and can think clearly again.

The entertainment on my Cape Breton jaunt was funky business names:  Den of Antiquity, for an antiques place; I would have enjoyed visiting had I had time to stop, just to meet the folks who thought up the name; Herring Choker, a small cafe for great coffee and sweets; and Yellow Cello for a yummy pizza.  The Herring Choker is outside of Baddeck and the Yellow Cello is on its main street.

So, now that I have proven to myself that yes I can do that most idiotic of things, drive an 1100 km round trip in three days, I think I'll leave off setting endurance goals for the time being.   I have other options for goal setting that won't be quite as hard on my bones.  Although as I write that I wonder how hard the massive de-cluttering and cleaning project I'm about to undertake will be on the bones.  I may have to put out a call for reinforcements, and most certainly for heavy lifting help.

In a previous post I said I hoped to soon be at a place where I ate something other than pasta.  So what am I looking forward to tonight?--of course, pasta.  I need good pasta to remove the taste of too many days of restaurant food from my memory.  Onward to dinner then.... 

May Be

Maybe I will get to have a life after the 15th.

Maybe the endless edits will be over soon.

Maybe my brain will function in relax mode again some day, or just function.

Maybe earning is as good for the soul as it clearly is for the waist line.

Maybe I'll remember that I'm a writer of other things, some day.

Maybe I'll notice that it is spring--oh, that's sunshine?

Maybe I'll stop dreaming of edits and all the things I've supposedly forgotten (in dream time).

Maybe soon I'll have time to make a meal that is not pasta (good thing I like pasta, but really...)

Maybe I can sleep in on a weekend again soon.

Maybe I can not work on a weekend after the 15th.

Maybe I can move off the fast lane into the slow and pokey lane, which I definitely prefer.

Maybe when I'm done working today I can get my new Pi Shawl pattern to work out: Chart A doesn't seem to work at 144 stitches.  [Later note to self: read pattern in daylight rather than at midnight--it works just fine then]

Maybe I will stop posting complaints and get on to the serious business of RANTS.

Maybe.

May Be.

April sunshine

Startling in its intensity is April sunshine.  I'm beginning to feel like spring has arrived and with it, today, a warbler in one of the maple trees.  Not a leaf in sight yet, but the wee warbler was singing his heart out.  I wish I knew more about birds so I could identify this earnest little critter by his song.  I sat in a lawn chair, in sunshine, drinking a coffee and listening to him. Eventually found where he was perched and could see the swelling tiny breast as it prepared to give voice again and again.  Is this courting behaviour I wonder? Would it work for me?  What would I have to sing?

I'm knitting a pair of socks with a 3/3 cable pattern and moss stitch between the cables.  This pattern is fun, though not precisely fast.  

Still no word on how I'm going to recharge my digital camera battery or even how soon I might know about that.  And of course there's suddenly so much to photograph--buds on the cherry, peach and pear trees and the magnolia.  The daphne is in full bloom.  The roses are waking up. We had a good soaking rain on Friday and so the grass is greening rapidly.  Today I saw the rhubarb budding through the soil and the first fronds of lovage.  I need time to do some pruning and digging, but had to work today to prepare for a meeting tomorrow, so that didn't happen.  Soon though, soon.

Last night I went to C's house to drink wine, nibble cheese and work.  It has been rather a work focused weekend.  I didn't get home until after midnight, which is late enough for me, but will have been tough for her with a 6ish wake up call from her toddlers.  Neither of us noticed how late it was getting, we just kept plugging away at what we had to do.

As I was leaving C said, watch out for wildlife because in the past I've encountered deer on her road.  Last night I sighted something much more terrifying--a rubber chicken.  Now I don't know any more than you, what a rubber chicken is doing on the road at midnight in this town.  I can only imagine it was tossed out of a party and didn't have the wherewithal to umm, cross the road.  Trust yours truly to find the only post-partying rubber chicken in the country.  And, because I know you're all thinking it--I did NOT have that much wine, for between us we did not drink half the bottle in three hours.

I think I will go knit on my cable sock and meditate on the meaning of rubber chickens flaked out on the road at midnight.  There must be something important to glean from this, eh what?

And there she goes...

The days have been surprisingly sunny the last week or so and this is such a shock to the system that I feel like a mole just out of hibernation but not convinced at all that winter is over. I'm looking over my shoulder, perhaps even somewhat hunched over in the expectation of some major snow wallop. Perhaps the cold nights and brisk frosty mornings account for this fatalism, or perhaps just a relentless winter which I was strangely certain would NEVER end.

But there are crocus blossoms sprinkled about the house foundation near the kitchen door. The snowdrops are done for another year, blooming in the snow beginning early March. I don't know how many times they were covered by snow and just kept on going. A nice lesson here in resilience.

There was a meeting at work yesterday which in the space of a few minutes removed 90% of the stress I expected to have to wade through over the next month. I don't have to do 6 road trips in the first two weeks of May and have everything ready for the designer by THIS Friday. The fact that this is pretty much impossible didn't stop me from expecting to pull it off as I could see no alternative. The contract ends on the 15th of May, period. Everything must be done by that date as no money can be spent (according to contract requirements) after that date. Hence I believed I needed to go into overdrive to get all the commitments done.

Now the situation is this: a few more days at the editing end; later deadline if necessary to get everything to the designer; a bigger block of time to get things to and back from the printer and the CD burning folks. Then two trips the week of the 19th of May, one to Truro and one to Sydney. The other four will be done by and colleagues early in June. So, you know what? I feel so much better and I can breathe! Still have lots of work to do of course but without the added pressure of an impossible schedule.

Saturday the 26th I'm going to a Lace workshop in the valley at Gaspereau Valley Fibres.
I am looking forward to this, since I'm very new to lace knitting and would appreciate learning anything useful and meeting others with a similar interest.  The cost is $25 so it won't break the bank.  I'd hoped to have company for this jaunt but my friend isn't feeling well, so I'll go by myself.

Today I find out what my tax situation is--will I have to cough up more or will I get something back? Will what comes back (if it does) be of any real use in the travel fund?  I have to make a decision about the Knitaly tour in the next week to hold a seat.  Even with all my number crunching I'm still at least $3K short of what I need to do this.  And I'm going on pogie in a month, so my income will be less than half of what it has been for most of the winter.

In early June I will have a two week writing retreat, aka house-sitting gig.  I'm looking forward to being away from home with laptop, pens and notebooks and plan to make a concerted effort to whack away at the Boomer book project.  Between that and playing with the kitties it should be a very pleasant break.  Let's hope it will be a productive one as well.  I will be staying in Lunenburg

Lunenburg has many lovely cafes and is about 10 minutes closer to my absolutely favourite haunt The Biscuit Eater.  This is the best local haunt for writers, artists and interesting folk--you'll see everyone there, enjoy great coffee, delectable sweets, and monumental biscuits--of course I go at every opportunity!

I've saved the best news for last.  On June 14th we will celebrate the 2nd Annual Mahone Bay Knit in Public Day at the Biscuit Eater.  We meet at 11:oo and can knit through the afternoon if we like.  Last year there were some fascinating sock projects and wonderful company.  The B.E. provided a number of surprise draws, think books and cake and Have a Yarn offered a lovely discount to participants.  Great fun--join us if you can.

April glowers

Yes, I know that should be showers in the title but we don't have those today, just those glowering darkish skies that might portend rain but probably only mean that the day hasn't found the energy for sunshine yet.

There is glowering elsewhere in Dreamin Diva's life today, she (as in I, but I need some distance here) has lost the battery charger to the digital camera. Since the battery and charger are both proprietary, there's no possibility she can go to the local mall and just pick up something to resolve this situation. Therefore she's seriously pissed at herself for being such a doofus as to let the charger become separated from the camera. What's the camera case for if not to keep everything together, eh?

So all four pair of the marvellous socks I've so painstakingly knit in the last month can't be photographed because SHE can't keep her life organized enough to keep said charger where it can be found when needed.

Sigh...why can't we (she & I) get it together, eh? What's with this muddle in the life? Oh, yeah, it might have something to do with all the time I spend working, spinning, knitting or reading, which leaves little time for the routine tasks of cleaning, sorting and umm, putting things in their proper places.

On the desk today: taxes and the passport application.

On the needles: two shawls, one complex and very interesting, in a Faroese style, the other simple and endless but pretty so we continue; a pair of cabled socks in some plum coloured alpaca blend that's very lovely. Enroute to me: more sock yarn and a spectacular shawl yarn in sufficient quantity to keep me out of other mischief.

On the work front: the last or nearly last run through of the changes to the Age Advantage program that I've written; a phone meeting with the designer to see what format/form she needs the files in; bookings for the six road show venues for early May (and how gruelling will that be???); preparation for the first session of the first of ten Portfolio Development sessions to be facilitated in the next ten weeks (two groups so actually 20 sessions); and miscellaneous other bits and bobs to complete the work contract by May 15th. The Portfolio contract which I'm doing at the same time as my work contract by taking vacation 1/2 days, continues until June 19th. And this is in aid of building my travel to Italy fund. We'll see how that goes.

Five day weekend to veg

The Easter Bunny didn't come to my house, yet again. I don't know why exactly, lots of its friends live here, the dust bunnies you know. Perhaps they aren't on speaking terms for some reason. Some ancient family feud no doubt, wherein the EB looks down on the DB side of the family as a bit less than what they might be. The DB clan doesn't amount to much most of the time and no chocolate is involved, talk about your distaff side of the family.

Not to worry though, I still have chocolate left over from Xmas so I'm not in any distress.

I've spent four days of my five day weekend hibernating on my sofa--I've had a few phone conversations, no visitors or visiting. I was/am in need of quiet time to be by myself. Today I turned the heel on the second sock of the blueish pair and dyed a couple of skeins of yarn in a lavender shade that fades to some blues and soft fuschia--not on purpose, that's the way the dye struck the skeins. I'm calling it a design, because I doubt I'd be able to over-dye this and get much better in the way of results. Probably this is the fault of the bad vibes between the EB and the DB clan, creating havoc in my kitchen.

On another, um note, I've reloaded about 50 albums into my iPod so today I could listen to one of my favourite Hildegarde von Bingen albums by Sequentia--Canticles of Ecstacy via the Bose dock. Glorious, glorious sound.

Tomorrow, oh blessed day, I think I'll be able to hang laundry on the line. It's been such a long wet winter that I can't remember when I last got to hang out laundry so I'm really looking forward to this as some kind of major life event this weekend. Since I've been hibernating, it doesn't take much at all to create a major event in my world.

I did some spinning this afternoon. Working on spinning up the qiviut roving that came back from the mill earlier this month, I'm nearly through the first 'bump' and have about half a bobbin. I'm not impressed with the de-hairing as I still have to continuously pick out guard hair which makes the spinning a very stop and start process and takes some of the pleasure out of it.

No pictures of anything yet as I still haven't set up a photo shoot area that will handle the relevant tasks--nor have I begun organizing or cleaning my house, it's just been a long weekend to rest and try to find my way back to myself. I get rather lost in work related stuff and then feel so disconnected from my personal reality that it takes serious sitting still to find my way back. Thankfully I listened and sat still because i am feeling significantly better than I was Thursday when my weekend began.

Time to wander off to bed to read for a while--I'm reading Sir Walter Scott's Bride of Lammermoor and enjoying it very much.  It's been some time since I've read anything with a decent vocabulary, I mean beyond the 600 words we're apparently down to in most interaction, communication and writing.  When was the last time a tv or radio program used the word gaunt, and used it correctly.  I love the really chewy sentences and long detailed descriptive paragraphs of writers like Scott, Dickens, Austen, Gaskell, Trollope and Eliot and read them for relief after reading some of the weird contemporary fiction I also sometimes enjoy.  But more of that another time.  And so to bed...

Food Schill

How is that restaurant food so often doesn't taste anything like what it is supposed to be? How can a kitchen with trained chefs, sous chefs, specialized equipment as well as ingredients I can shop for in my local grocery store, produce coffee, tea and meals that have no taste? What happens to create this? Is it me? Do my taste buds refuse to cooperate once I'm eating some selection from a restaurant menu? I don't have high expectations, just possibly unreasonable ones. I want the food to taste like what it is supposed to be. If you purport to offer me French onion soup that has nothing approaching the flavour of said dish--how do you achieve that and consider it reasonable to charge me $6 for it? And in a dish so shallow that one cannot fill a soup spoon with the liquid? Are you, the chef, betting that I will happily dine on three drops of swill and be satisfied with my memory of what French onion soup ought to taste like? The menu claimed the soup was created out of broth, but for all the flavour in the broth it might as well have been the leftovers from the breakfast 'coffee' carafes. Do you as a chef (forgive my use of the term when it clearly doesn't apply) ever eat the food you and your staff make? Are you then all receiving medical treatment for digestive problems? Or for an overload of interesting unpronounceable chemicals in your bloodstreams?

And the coffee. Whoever decided that 'coffee' was merely a brownish liquid created from caramel and a toxic sludge of 'flavours' which have never even been in the same warehouse as a coffee bean; and then has the nerve to sell this as coffee?

No wonder North Americans are obese, we are forced to eat fried potatoes in some form or other merely to get something approaching flavour in an average restaurant. And I'm not talking here about my experiences in some greasy spoon off the main drag where surprisingly the food is often better and much cheaper. Oh no, my complaint stems from several days of eating in major chain hotel restaurants when compelled to do this while travelling for work.

To give credit where credit is due, I can say that even a hotel restaurant can do eggs over easy, but if I have to look at eggs any time in the next week, I'll probably cluck. End of rant!

The Ides of February

With official spring five weeks away, there's not a bit of relief from winter in sight yet. Okay so maybe getting more rain than snow counts but there's still snow with every precipitation event so I'm not sure if that counts toward springness.

The 'marmalade' sweater being done I had a look at how much handspun I had left. Is there enough to make a vest from this. My usual rough and ready guestimation process complete I believe I'm blessed with enough of the yarn.

Then I hear about the progress of my qiviut blend from the mill in NB where it has been sent for processing and I am now so twitchy and excited in anticipation that I'm even prepared to do some house cleaning (for which this is the perfect energy) while I wait. Don't faint dear reader, but hey I live in comfort knowing that you have no idea what that entails in my household. The qiviut will be a 60/40 blend with an oatmeal coloured merino. Alyson at the mill said it blends in so well that there's no noticeable colour change from the original qiviut down. There was 23.6 ounces of down when it was cleaned and de-haired. There will be 2 pounds of roving for me to spin.

I'm now considering what else I can afford to send to the mill this winter since I don't have time to pick and card my acquired fleeces due to work commitments and the weariness that ensues. So I'm dreaming of pretty fluffy roving from say a couple of Shetland fleeces and perhaps even the Cotswold.  Dare we dream?

Off to Sydney to do a two day workshop on The Age Advantage Program which I'm looking forward to, though much as I enjoy Cape Breton, it is not my destination of choice in February. Somewhere warmer might nice, but that's just about any place except my house, though the area right near the wood stove is toasty enough.  So I suppose I should consider myself fortunate to spend 3 nights in a hotel?

It's nearly time to prepare some chicken curry for supper.  I had my first ever taste of white truffle (or as close as I'm likely to get to that) when I put several drops of truffle infused olive oil on my scrambled eggs.  Not sure what to make of this very potent flavour, less than an eight of a tsp went into flavouring my eggs.  My early comment on the experience--haunting....

Wintery thoughts

Here's a lovely shot of Helene's Xmas shawl...


The wood stove is going 24 hours a day, and given the lack of insulation in my house, so is the furnace. Even with all that fuel consumption it would be wrong to assume that I was warm. Not frozen, unless I move away from the wood stove, but rarely warm unless I stay in bed.

But, this is near the end of January so one has hopes of warmer days soon. The days are certainly brighter and longer and that gives me delight. I haven't gone through my favourite list of winter soups yet so that's something. Today's plan is an Italian tomato bread soup to use up the last of a baguette and because I love tomato soup. I wonder if some roasted fennel seeds would be a good addition to this batch, I also have some fennel fronds for flavouring and will add a chili or two for extra punch.

A friend called me this morning and asked as we were wrapping up the conversation, what I planned to do today. Answer: as little as possible. As noon approaches I've done very well with this mission--haven't even had breakfast. Am toying with the idea of having brioche french toast, but the mind is not yet made up on that--and I'd have to move out of my recliner.

I remember when I lived out west that a day when it was a mere -20C seemed like a good day to go to town and do errands or just wander around for a change of scenery. Now, many years later of course, I figure if it is below -5C I shouldn't even have to go outdoors or maybe get out of bed. Some of this may be due to my bones getting older and colder, but I suspect I've lost my prairie hardiness in this softer maritime climate. Also, it is rarely very cold here while on the prairies it stays cold for months at a time.

This is my son G when he was four, and very cute...

Knitting report: the Pi shawl is making excellent progress and I'll have photos of it soon. The 'marmalade' sweater is done except for darning in ends so it will be washed and blocked today. Progress on the Seaman's scarf I began over Xmas has halted as I've been working on the Pi Shawl. Next finishing project will be the Sakori vest, the scarf and Ms C's thrum mittens.

Spinning report: two fibers being spun--one lot on the Little Gem, the other on the Schacht, but neither getting much attention. I don't have enough of anything now spun up to start a new project, actually not even enough for socks. That's not good. I'm spinning a charcoal fleece in hopes I have enough to try a gansey. The blend I'm spinning on the Gem is meant for a vest.

Weaving, 1974, Regina, SK, moi....

Beading report: I've been spending a great deal of time making the sweetest little stitch markers. I have several sets in the local yarn shop and will post pictures soon; today should see me cutting jump rings for the 30 or so sets that are ready for them.

Work report: Back to full time work for at least six weeks and probably longer. Bonus--it will make for better EI come spring. Meanwhile I have a lot less play time, or even time to keep laundry caught up. Hence my doing nothing on the weekend means laundry, cooking, knitting, beading and spinning. What of reading and writing you ask? What indeed.

Travel dream report: Have a stash of cash for a trip to Italy but still waiting for travel documents to appear--don't feel I should make definite plans until I'm sure I can get on a plane to go. This business is taking forever!