Wow, can you believe Kelp! put me in the 12th Yarnival? A very kind thing to do. Rick was a bit surprised to find himself nominated the hunk of that issue of Yarnival (go, baby!), but has decided to be provisionally flattered (I explained to him that knitters have very good taste, and it is definitely a compliment). Thanks everyone who read and commented on that post -- I really appreciate it (and especially thanks for the good info on Kitchener; at some point, the issue just must be resolved so we can give credit where credit is due -- can you imagine socks pre-grafting?!).
We have had some interesting avian goings-on in our yard this afternoon; two red-shouldered hawks have been going at it with a murder of crows. One hawk will fly to a telephone pole and sit, screaming defiance at the world, whilst crows fly around, cawing their corbae brains out. Then, the hawk will fly to a tree, and sit there, shouting "mine! mine!" while the crows land on the telephone pole and laugh. Then they swap. This has been going on, loudly, for hours. The other hawk sits on various branches, supportively adding to the cacophony. It's freaking the cats out no end. I tried very hard to get a picture, but a hawk on a telephone pole looks like a brown lump through my camera, and do you have any idea how fast those babies fly?! So, no go. Rick suggested I record how they sound, but I'll spare you that.
P.S. Submit to Yarnival! The next one is being hosted by Stitch 'n Sue, and she's got a link for submissions there.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Ribbit
So, remember Friday? Day of hope, Kauni looking like this:
Then, I sat through five hours of meetings (truly, I am not kidding or exaggerating here -- five), and, whilst I didn't take another picture afterwards, imagine another two beautiful, clearly defined squares on top of what you see in that picture.
I took it home. I looked at it. The squoodgy, smooshy, foggy bit looked a lot more smudged by comparison to clean-cut, delineated squares both top and bottom. I look at it some more. I looked at the picture on the pattern, I went on Ravelry and looked at every single Kauni project there (btw, everyone -- nice work!). None of them had smudgy bits. Mine most definitely did. My bubble burst, and I realized I was going to be seriously bothered by the smudgy bits. A decision was made. By the end of the evening, it was back down to the checkerboard, and one set of squares. Weep.
Rick was a huge help here. I think this might have been strategic. We've been dealing in mutual annoyance for the past little bit (a lot of overwork is contributing to this). But his engineering soul was engaged in the problem of figuring out how to line up a new set of colors so that I'd have a maximum chance of avoiding this problem again (I just don't think I could face it). So we sat on the couch, Kauni on my lap, surrounded by balls of yarn, and plotted. Then, (and here's the bit where I'm pretty sure he was trying to mitigate annoyance) together we ripped. He managed one ball of yarn, and I managed the other (he is a Master Knot Wrangler, fifth rank, after years of kite flying and sailing), and after an hour of work, my hours of work were gone (weep). Also at least a large part of the annoyance -- it's hard to stay annoyed at a person who willingly sits on a couch playing with yarn and saying consoling things during the process of ripping out my heart -- oops, I mean my knitting.
I couldn't post about this yesterday, the pain was too fresh (just kidding, I was actually really busy). But now I can say that I have joined the yarn of one ball in such a way that the color change continues to flow without abrupt shifts, and I have finished one set of squares, and the colors are resolutely staying away from each other, as they should. I know that, after another five or six hours of work when I'm back where I started, I'll be glad I did this.
On better fronts, Tess' soccer team won resoundingly yesterday (4-0). It has been so much fun to watch them play this season (it's also great fun to watch Rick coach -- he's doing an amazing job with them). In spite of the fact that, for the first three games, they had only 0-1 substitute (instead of the 3-4 they were supposed to have), they played their hearts out, and even won one of those games. In some ways, I think that they came together as a team because of it (they were all playing all the time out there on the field). And now, watching them play is pure pleasure -- they're really looking good (note: this is also by comparison to the years when I was watching them play four on four, in a version of soccer that really didn't look very soccer-like at all). Tess is seriously considering trying out for the competitive team next year; she wanted to do it this year, but said that her big regret about playing rec was that her dad had never coached her -- Rick took that hit for us, and saved us the driving and expense of competitive for another year. I'm not sure she was ready this year, but the way she's going, she might be next year.
Yesterday was productive in terms of getting ready for the invasion on Friday night (assuming it happens; there may actually be enough funding leftover to get some hotel rooms -- would that be inhospitable of me? I keep thinking it would be, and then people point out that more bathrooms is never a bad thing. This is true. Whaddaya think?). I cleaned and vacuumed the living room, kitchen, and dining room (this sounds so impressive, until I tell you that they are, for all intents and purposes, one big room -- as a complete aside, my students now habitually write that phrase as "for all intensive purposes"; language change in progress). Also, the kids' playroom and the guest room. Today is for the den and our room, and then things will be in order, assuming we can convince the kids not to move for the next five days.
I'm in a good mood because I am caught up on grading and class prep, at least for this week, and therefore don't feel compelled to work today. I also have been getting enough sleep, which means that tomorrow can be a very productive day, which helps with the not feeling compelled to work at home today thing. If Rick gets my bike fixed and the rain holds off, we might even get a family ride in. Now, if I could only stop lying awake at night before I go to sleep, worrying about what needs to get done in the next two weeks, that would be good. Maybe it's time to invest in a nice bottle of Talisker for some small sipped prior to sleeping. Heh.
Then, I sat through five hours of meetings (truly, I am not kidding or exaggerating here -- five), and, whilst I didn't take another picture afterwards, imagine another two beautiful, clearly defined squares on top of what you see in that picture.I took it home. I looked at it. The squoodgy, smooshy, foggy bit looked a lot more smudged by comparison to clean-cut, delineated squares both top and bottom. I look at it some more. I looked at the picture on the pattern, I went on Ravelry and looked at every single Kauni project there (btw, everyone -- nice work!). None of them had smudgy bits. Mine most definitely did. My bubble burst, and I realized I was going to be seriously bothered by the smudgy bits. A decision was made. By the end of the evening, it was back down to the checkerboard, and one set of squares. Weep.
Rick was a huge help here. I think this might have been strategic. We've been dealing in mutual annoyance for the past little bit (a lot of overwork is contributing to this). But his engineering soul was engaged in the problem of figuring out how to line up a new set of colors so that I'd have a maximum chance of avoiding this problem again (I just don't think I could face it). So we sat on the couch, Kauni on my lap, surrounded by balls of yarn, and plotted. Then, (and here's the bit where I'm pretty sure he was trying to mitigate annoyance) together we ripped. He managed one ball of yarn, and I managed the other (he is a Master Knot Wrangler, fifth rank, after years of kite flying and sailing), and after an hour of work, my hours of work were gone (weep). Also at least a large part of the annoyance -- it's hard to stay annoyed at a person who willingly sits on a couch playing with yarn and saying consoling things during the process of ripping out my heart -- oops, I mean my knitting.
I couldn't post about this yesterday, the pain was too fresh (just kidding, I was actually really busy). But now I can say that I have joined the yarn of one ball in such a way that the color change continues to flow without abrupt shifts, and I have finished one set of squares, and the colors are resolutely staying away from each other, as they should. I know that, after another five or six hours of work when I'm back where I started, I'll be glad I did this.
On better fronts, Tess' soccer team won resoundingly yesterday (4-0). It has been so much fun to watch them play this season (it's also great fun to watch Rick coach -- he's doing an amazing job with them). In spite of the fact that, for the first three games, they had only 0-1 substitute (instead of the 3-4 they were supposed to have), they played their hearts out, and even won one of those games. In some ways, I think that they came together as a team because of it (they were all playing all the time out there on the field). And now, watching them play is pure pleasure -- they're really looking good (note: this is also by comparison to the years when I was watching them play four on four, in a version of soccer that really didn't look very soccer-like at all). Tess is seriously considering trying out for the competitive team next year; she wanted to do it this year, but said that her big regret about playing rec was that her dad had never coached her -- Rick took that hit for us, and saved us the driving and expense of competitive for another year. I'm not sure she was ready this year, but the way she's going, she might be next year.
Yesterday was productive in terms of getting ready for the invasion on Friday night (assuming it happens; there may actually be enough funding leftover to get some hotel rooms -- would that be inhospitable of me? I keep thinking it would be, and then people point out that more bathrooms is never a bad thing. This is true. Whaddaya think?). I cleaned and vacuumed the living room, kitchen, and dining room (this sounds so impressive, until I tell you that they are, for all intents and purposes, one big room -- as a complete aside, my students now habitually write that phrase as "for all intensive purposes"; language change in progress). Also, the kids' playroom and the guest room. Today is for the den and our room, and then things will be in order, assuming we can convince the kids not to move for the next five days.
I'm in a good mood because I am caught up on grading and class prep, at least for this week, and therefore don't feel compelled to work today. I also have been getting enough sleep, which means that tomorrow can be a very productive day, which helps with the not feeling compelled to work at home today thing. If Rick gets my bike fixed and the rain holds off, we might even get a family ride in. Now, if I could only stop lying awake at night before I go to sleep, worrying about what needs to get done in the next two weeks, that would be good. Maybe it's time to invest in a nice bottle of Talisker for some small sipped prior to sleeping. Heh.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Quick update
The Kauni colors are finally starting to separate again; watching this has been like watching a photo finish in the Tour de France -- will they come apart, will they stay together until the end, what will happen next?! However, we have finally achieved separation (I'm clearly anticipating the trip to Houston I have to make next month), and all is well again. I'm still a little peeved by the section where the pattern doesn't really show, but I'm telling myself it's subtle. Yeah, subtle (and no, I do not need my bubble burst, thank you very much).
I am quite enamoured of the inside, as well. I think that the tension is looking pretty good (especially considering that my previous stranded colorwork experience has consisted of knitting exactly 3/4 of one mitten). I think I can tolerate bubble-bursting here, if anyone has comments or suggestions.
I haven't touched the Boudica socks lately, since I've been waiting with bated breath to see what this sweater was going to do, and finishing washcloths (which will, universe willing, be mailed to Janice today). I think I'm going to go by my LYS this afternoon to get yarn for me and Tess to knit Red Scarves. It's hard to imagine leaving Kauni for the time necessary to knit a scarf, but I'll just have to manage. At least I have a 2 1/2 hour meeting this afternoon that is knitting-compatible. Woot!
I'd planned a longer post today, about privilege and having to see oneself through others' eyes. I'm not sure I'm up to writing it quite yet (and that pile of grading is not getting any smaller). The short of it is that one of the people I do fieldwork with is bringing 11 dancers down here to dance on our campus next Friday night for California Indian Day. This is extremely exciting (although I'm already lying awake in bed at night, trying to figure out how I'm going to introduce them, what I'm going to feed them, what I'll do with them between the airport and the performance, ad nauseum). They'll probably stay in my house Friday night, and that's where the privilege comes in, because the fact is that, by the standards of most folks living on a reservation, I am extremely privileged. I know this. Feeling grateful for what I have gets me through a lot of things in life. But it is a strange thing to see my life through the eyes of others. I have visited some of these dancers in their homes, and stayed with one of them several times, and I want very much to reciprocate that hospitality. This is not a bad situation, just a bit strange; it's a mirror thing, you know? Like the time I was working with a speaker and her granddaughter started reading my fieldnotes about going to a ceremony, and I was watching her, as she, essentially, watched me through my notes, watching the event. It's a part of being an anthropologist that I think is more honest than the distanced observer, but it's always an exposed feeling. Of course, it's only fair to disrupt the studier/studied position as often and as explicitly as possible, but that doesn't make it less strange.
I am quite enamoured of the inside, as well. I think that the tension is looking pretty good (especially considering that my previous stranded colorwork experience has consisted of knitting exactly 3/4 of one mitten). I think I can tolerate bubble-bursting here, if anyone has comments or suggestions.
I haven't touched the Boudica socks lately, since I've been waiting with bated breath to see what this sweater was going to do, and finishing washcloths (which will, universe willing, be mailed to Janice today). I think I'm going to go by my LYS this afternoon to get yarn for me and Tess to knit Red Scarves. It's hard to imagine leaving Kauni for the time necessary to knit a scarf, but I'll just have to manage. At least I have a 2 1/2 hour meeting this afternoon that is knitting-compatible. Woot!I'd planned a longer post today, about privilege and having to see oneself through others' eyes. I'm not sure I'm up to writing it quite yet (and that pile of grading is not getting any smaller). The short of it is that one of the people I do fieldwork with is bringing 11 dancers down here to dance on our campus next Friday night for California Indian Day. This is extremely exciting (although I'm already lying awake in bed at night, trying to figure out how I'm going to introduce them, what I'm going to feed them, what I'll do with them between the airport and the performance, ad nauseum). They'll probably stay in my house Friday night, and that's where the privilege comes in, because the fact is that, by the standards of most folks living on a reservation, I am extremely privileged. I know this. Feeling grateful for what I have gets me through a lot of things in life. But it is a strange thing to see my life through the eyes of others. I have visited some of these dancers in their homes, and stayed with one of them several times, and I want very much to reciprocate that hospitality. This is not a bad situation, just a bit strange; it's a mirror thing, you know? Like the time I was working with a speaker and her granddaughter started reading my fieldnotes about going to a ceremony, and I was watching her, as she, essentially, watched me through my notes, watching the event. It's a part of being an anthropologist that I think is more honest than the distanced observer, but it's always an exposed feeling. Of course, it's only fair to disrupt the studier/studied position as often and as explicitly as possible, but that doesn't make it less strange.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Goodbye, Robert Jordan
I found out that Robert Jordan just died this week, at 58, after a long hard fight. He wrote the Wheel of Time series (among many other things).
I feel differently about this news than I did when I heard about Madeleine L'Engle. When I heard that she'd died, I felt sad in a somewhat selfish (and unrealistic) way, in that I would have liked to have met her -- I think I would have liked her very much personally. I don't know that I would have gotten along with Jordan personally (I don't think I ever really thought about it), but I know I would get along with his characters, and that's saying something.
Whatever I think I would have felt about him upon meeting him personally, I owe him a debt of gratitude for writing books that I thoroughly enjoyed every time I read them (and some of them I read a number of times). His characters are real; if Heinlein was right, and there is a world where fictional characters live beyond their authors because of the love and loyalty of their readers, then Jordan's characters are there. His world was so detailed and so well put together, that it feels like a place that I could go visit anytime, like it exists outside of its books. To be able to conceive and convey like that is a form of magic for which I have a deep respect. I can't imagine being able to write like that; hell, I can't even convey what my real world is like with any grace or style -- I can't imagine creating a world first and THEN having to tell people about it. I know that his work will be missed by thousands of people, many of whom will now try to figure out what was going to happen in the last book of the series. Whoever tries to finish it, I know it won't be the same without his authorial love for his world.
I feel differently about this news than I did when I heard about Madeleine L'Engle. When I heard that she'd died, I felt sad in a somewhat selfish (and unrealistic) way, in that I would have liked to have met her -- I think I would have liked her very much personally. I don't know that I would have gotten along with Jordan personally (I don't think I ever really thought about it), but I know I would get along with his characters, and that's saying something.
Whatever I think I would have felt about him upon meeting him personally, I owe him a debt of gratitude for writing books that I thoroughly enjoyed every time I read them (and some of them I read a number of times). His characters are real; if Heinlein was right, and there is a world where fictional characters live beyond their authors because of the love and loyalty of their readers, then Jordan's characters are there. His world was so detailed and so well put together, that it feels like a place that I could go visit anytime, like it exists outside of its books. To be able to conceive and convey like that is a form of magic for which I have a deep respect. I can't imagine being able to write like that; hell, I can't even convey what my real world is like with any grace or style -- I can't imagine creating a world first and THEN having to tell people about it. I know that his work will be missed by thousands of people, many of whom will now try to figure out what was going to happen in the last book of the series. Whoever tries to finish it, I know it won't be the same without his authorial love for his world.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Baby steps
I am slowly feeling better. This cold, though, is causing that sort of lingering fatigue that makes it hard to get moving. I'm skipping lunchtime yoga today. Part of me feels bad, but most of me feels like I don't need to work that hard (Ashtanga is great, but not when you're exhausted). I think a walk with Kivrin and Kia tonight while Rick and Tess are at soccer will be a much better thing.
I am also slowly getting some knitting done. I have finished some washcloths to send to Rabbitch for her pile, and I'll actually try to get to the post office to do that this Friday. This is the hardest step for me -- I truly hate going to the post office. I'm not sure what it is, but I have so much trouble with it that I have STILL not sent the scarf that I knitted for my former advisor for her retirement party in June (the knitting was done on time, but I couldn't face the post office). I also seem to have trouble wrapping things; I have three different belated birthday presents in my house right now that only await wrapping. What IS it with me? However, the post office it is on Friday, and I will be mailing the scarf at the same time. And, now that I've finished knitting the washcloths, the plan for tonight is to weave in the ends, and to wrap everything that needs to be wrapped, instead of knitting on Kauni, which I had set aside to finish these. Oh, do you want to see the washcloths? Here they are:
Pretty, no? I love yellow and blue. They always make me feel cheerful.
Other than that, things are quiet. So little to post about (other than griping about the insanity that is my work for the next several weeks, and I think that we've had more than enough of that, thank you very much). I'll try to be interesting today so I have something to say tomorrow. Wish me luck!
I am also slowly getting some knitting done. I have finished some washcloths to send to Rabbitch for her pile, and I'll actually try to get to the post office to do that this Friday. This is the hardest step for me -- I truly hate going to the post office. I'm not sure what it is, but I have so much trouble with it that I have STILL not sent the scarf that I knitted for my former advisor for her retirement party in June (the knitting was done on time, but I couldn't face the post office). I also seem to have trouble wrapping things; I have three different belated birthday presents in my house right now that only await wrapping. What IS it with me? However, the post office it is on Friday, and I will be mailing the scarf at the same time. And, now that I've finished knitting the washcloths, the plan for tonight is to weave in the ends, and to wrap everything that needs to be wrapped, instead of knitting on Kauni, which I had set aside to finish these. Oh, do you want to see the washcloths? Here they are:
Pretty, no? I love yellow and blue. They always make me feel cheerful. Other than that, things are quiet. So little to post about (other than griping about the insanity that is my work for the next several weeks, and I think that we've had more than enough of that, thank you very much). I'll try to be interesting today so I have something to say tomorrow. Wish me luck!
Monday, September 17, 2007
Brighter Monday
First, thanks to everyone who weighed in on the ripping question. It's nice sometimes to be given permission to do what I want to do, which in this case was to not rip. I really appreciate the support.
So, I did not in fact rip. I also didn't knit Kauni at all yesterday. Instead, I played with washcloths. I have a few to send to Rabbitch for her collection for a women's shelter, but when I looked at them I realized that they were much smaller than I'd remembered. Sort of embarrassing really. So, I'm pounding out a few more this week. It's a rather relaxing sort of knit, really, and I'm hoping to have at least a few to send with the teeny ones; maybe they can go together in pairs; you know, one for washing the body, one for washing something smaller, like say, a nose.
I did actually make it through most of my list yesterday. The laundry all got done (except the beach towels, but it's not like we have time to go to the beach anytime soon!). Including clean, matching (!!) sheets for everyone. A miracle. I got a small nap, I read my two articles, I made soup for rush dinners this week, and I roasted the tomatoes that Rick got at the market on Saturday. I read some nice relaxing trash, and folded the laundry (I know, who am I?). And I finished the shopping. Oh, and returned late library books, paid my fines, and checked out new books with the girls. It's amazing how much better it feels when things at home, at least, are calm.
Now, don't get the wrong idea. Work is still total chaos. In the less than two weeks before October first, I need to finish planning (and execute) all of the events for California Indian Day (which, the way it happens here, is really California Indian WEEK), write a sabbatical application, get together a final draft of the center proposal, edit a paper with a co-author that needs to get out, make it through several meetings of various sorts, and prep this darned new class. And grade. Right, don't forget the grading.
However, being able to see an end date really helps. Knowing what I really want to get out of each of these things also really helps, since it keeps me from doing more than I'm willing to do to get that result. I just have to hang on to my "no", y'know? I am resolved to be a bit more cheerful about it all, and to at least attempt to take care of myself while I struggle through. Blog a little, read other people's blogs, knit. Walk with friends (I have three walks and a yoga class scheduled with folks this week; I'm so much less likely to cancel when I can tell myself that I'm supporting someone else's mental and physical health than when I'm just supporting my own. Sad, but true. At least by recognizing my psychoses I can trick myself into moving in the right direction, right?). Eat well. Read with the girls. And, happily, my two big meetings this week are both knitable, so that will help a ton.
In the end, the big stuff is good. The girls are happy. Rick is managing his insane work stuff. The weather is (finally!) cooler -- fog this morning, yay! The vet says that my adored dog is doing very well for a 12 and a half year old shepherd mix (we're trying to dodge the old age bullet as long as we can), and the new kitten is starting to let me sleep most of the night. And, best of all, I don't have to rip the Kauni. How good is that?
So, I did not in fact rip. I also didn't knit Kauni at all yesterday. Instead, I played with washcloths. I have a few to send to Rabbitch for her collection for a women's shelter, but when I looked at them I realized that they were much smaller than I'd remembered. Sort of embarrassing really. So, I'm pounding out a few more this week. It's a rather relaxing sort of knit, really, and I'm hoping to have at least a few to send with the teeny ones; maybe they can go together in pairs; you know, one for washing the body, one for washing something smaller, like say, a nose.
I did actually make it through most of my list yesterday. The laundry all got done (except the beach towels, but it's not like we have time to go to the beach anytime soon!). Including clean, matching (!!) sheets for everyone. A miracle. I got a small nap, I read my two articles, I made soup for rush dinners this week, and I roasted the tomatoes that Rick got at the market on Saturday. I read some nice relaxing trash, and folded the laundry (I know, who am I?). And I finished the shopping. Oh, and returned late library books, paid my fines, and checked out new books with the girls. It's amazing how much better it feels when things at home, at least, are calm.
Now, don't get the wrong idea. Work is still total chaos. In the less than two weeks before October first, I need to finish planning (and execute) all of the events for California Indian Day (which, the way it happens here, is really California Indian WEEK), write a sabbatical application, get together a final draft of the center proposal, edit a paper with a co-author that needs to get out, make it through several meetings of various sorts, and prep this darned new class. And grade. Right, don't forget the grading.
However, being able to see an end date really helps. Knowing what I really want to get out of each of these things also really helps, since it keeps me from doing more than I'm willing to do to get that result. I just have to hang on to my "no", y'know? I am resolved to be a bit more cheerful about it all, and to at least attempt to take care of myself while I struggle through. Blog a little, read other people's blogs, knit. Walk with friends (I have three walks and a yoga class scheduled with folks this week; I'm so much less likely to cancel when I can tell myself that I'm supporting someone else's mental and physical health than when I'm just supporting my own. Sad, but true. At least by recognizing my psychoses I can trick myself into moving in the right direction, right?). Eat well. Read with the girls. And, happily, my two big meetings this week are both knitable, so that will help a ton.
In the end, the big stuff is good. The girls are happy. Rick is managing his insane work stuff. The weather is (finally!) cooler -- fog this morning, yay! The vet says that my adored dog is doing very well for a 12 and a half year old shepherd mix (we're trying to dodge the old age bullet as long as we can), and the new kitten is starting to let me sleep most of the night. And, best of all, I don't have to rip the Kauni. How good is that?
Sunday, September 16, 2007
To rip or not to rip
that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of colors gone wonky, or... OK, I've lost it, but you get the picture. I should say at the outset that I am inclined not to rip, but I am happy for input from any and all.
Here's the problem. I'm knitting merrily along on Kauni. Getting a row done here and another two there, generally feeling pretty good (I know that this is not killer progress by the standards of many knitters, but remember, sweaters are my nemesis, so I'm feeling pleased with any progress at all). I even started two-handed knitting (!!), and I'm kind of wondering whether I might start doing the left-handed yarn-control gig more often. As I knit, I take great pleasure in wondering which colors are going to come up next, so I look at those happy cakes of yarn I created to try to predict. And I tell you, I saw it coming: orange. Orange on the left side, orange on the right. And apparently, I'm the clown in the middle who is going to be wearing a sweater with one pattern repeat that isn't particularly distinguishable, because both balls came up orange. See for yourself:
See there at the top, where the pattern sort of fades out? That's not just overexposure because I'm taking the picture with the camera in my computer on the bar in my kitchen because I'm too darned lazy to wait for my camera to upload new photos (wow, I am SO going to make my students draw a sentence tree for that one!). That's orange, and lots of it. Of course, if I rip it back, I have to decide where in one of my balls of yarn I'm going to start, and worry about whether the colors will just come together again later. I'm tempted to stay with it as it is (the colors on one ball are moving towards yellow, and the other is headed for purple, so my torment should end soon). The whole point of this sweater was to mindlessly enjoy the color changes, taking what comes, even if I would never usually choose to juxtapose, say, purple and green. Or orange and, well, orange. Besides, after the week I've had, I don't think I can bear negative progress.
I'm having a similar dilemma with the Boudica socks. I think they're going to be too big around the arch of my foot. The question there is, rip and start over, or decrease now and figure that this is a custom fit, since my feet are, frankly, some of the widest feet ever across the ball (strange-looking, but very useful in doing balancing poses in yoga). I'm leaning towards the decrease option, not only because of the negative progress issue, but also because casting on for toe-up socks isn't my favorite thing to do. (Note the avoidance issues here; I'm trying to limit them to non-vital areas of my life, and I figure knitting is one of those -- no-one is going to die if my socks are a bit too big.)
So, on other fronts. The book club I belong to, in an attempt to make up for a run of books that we all, frankly, hated (the last one was so bad -- and by a nobel-prize winning author, no less! -- that I could NOT make myself read more than 120 pages, and I bitterly resented almost every one of those; I kept waiting hopefully for someone to kill off the main character -- I only found out later that someone does, at about page 200), has chosen to go a slightly different route, and we're reading The Golden Compass. We were all dithering, until I said (I've read the book before, but not for years -- since it came out), "I just want to LIKE a main character", and everyone said, "We'll like her, really?" and the vote was in. Is that sad? So, having seen the "find your daemon" function on Anne's blog, I told the group about it, and we've all agreed to find out before our next meeting, and then try to match daemons to members. My whole family did it, and it was kind of fun. Rick's is a spider (very much matches his engineering soul), Tess is a gibbon, and Kivrin is a hare. I put mine up on the blog for a while, for fun (a snow leopard), since no one in the group knows I have a blog and so won't find out before our next meeting. In any case, it's nice to look forward to reading a book for this group for a change.
Right now, I'm in mindless reading mode; it's good to get away from real life by reading a book where you can count on the author making everything come out right in the end. I'm also waiting for an order from Amazon -- I had to get a present for someone, and decided that, since I had free shipping, I should just get the EZ book I've been wanting, right? Maybe it'll come today...
I'm trying to enjoy my day at home, after this past week of hideousness. I spent several hours yesterday napping; I think I'm fighting off a head cold, and being stressed and losing sleep isn't helping (my big one right now is figuring out how I'm going to sleep 12 extra people in my house for one night, plus getting them all to and from the airport -- especially since we have to leave for the airport at 4:45 on a Saturday morning, and I just don't feel like I can ask many people to help with that!). So, this morning Rick kindly let me sleep in ('til 8:30 -- oh joy!; he even killed and cleaned up the ants who had invaded the pet food -- good man), and when I got up, I made cinnamon rolls.
They weren't pretty (they're a quick-bread version I found in the latest Fine Cooking, and the dough was a bit stickier than I'd anticipated), but clearly no one minded particularly. They're mostly gone now. The plan for the day: read two articles to prep for class; do laundry; make some soup for dinners during the week; roast some tomatoes to freeze; take a nap; knit a few more rows of Kauni to see what colors come up. Maybe read a little more mindless trash. Does this sound good?
Yes, it does.
Here's the problem. I'm knitting merrily along on Kauni. Getting a row done here and another two there, generally feeling pretty good (I know that this is not killer progress by the standards of many knitters, but remember, sweaters are my nemesis, so I'm feeling pleased with any progress at all). I even started two-handed knitting (!!), and I'm kind of wondering whether I might start doing the left-handed yarn-control gig more often. As I knit, I take great pleasure in wondering which colors are going to come up next, so I look at those happy cakes of yarn I created to try to predict. And I tell you, I saw it coming: orange. Orange on the left side, orange on the right. And apparently, I'm the clown in the middle who is going to be wearing a sweater with one pattern repeat that isn't particularly distinguishable, because both balls came up orange. See for yourself:
See there at the top, where the pattern sort of fades out? That's not just overexposure because I'm taking the picture with the camera in my computer on the bar in my kitchen because I'm too darned lazy to wait for my camera to upload new photos (wow, I am SO going to make my students draw a sentence tree for that one!). That's orange, and lots of it. Of course, if I rip it back, I have to decide where in one of my balls of yarn I'm going to start, and worry about whether the colors will just come together again later. I'm tempted to stay with it as it is (the colors on one ball are moving towards yellow, and the other is headed for purple, so my torment should end soon). The whole point of this sweater was to mindlessly enjoy the color changes, taking what comes, even if I would never usually choose to juxtapose, say, purple and green. Or orange and, well, orange. Besides, after the week I've had, I don't think I can bear negative progress.I'm having a similar dilemma with the Boudica socks. I think they're going to be too big around the arch of my foot. The question there is, rip and start over, or decrease now and figure that this is a custom fit, since my feet are, frankly, some of the widest feet ever across the ball (strange-looking, but very useful in doing balancing poses in yoga). I'm leaning towards the decrease option, not only because of the negative progress issue, but also because casting on for toe-up socks isn't my favorite thing to do. (Note the avoidance issues here; I'm trying to limit them to non-vital areas of my life, and I figure knitting is one of those -- no-one is going to die if my socks are a bit too big.)
So, on other fronts. The book club I belong to, in an attempt to make up for a run of books that we all, frankly, hated (the last one was so bad -- and by a nobel-prize winning author, no less! -- that I could NOT make myself read more than 120 pages, and I bitterly resented almost every one of those; I kept waiting hopefully for someone to kill off the main character -- I only found out later that someone does, at about page 200), has chosen to go a slightly different route, and we're reading The Golden Compass. We were all dithering, until I said (I've read the book before, but not for years -- since it came out), "I just want to LIKE a main character", and everyone said, "We'll like her, really?" and the vote was in. Is that sad? So, having seen the "find your daemon" function on Anne's blog, I told the group about it, and we've all agreed to find out before our next meeting, and then try to match daemons to members. My whole family did it, and it was kind of fun. Rick's is a spider (very much matches his engineering soul), Tess is a gibbon, and Kivrin is a hare. I put mine up on the blog for a while, for fun (a snow leopard), since no one in the group knows I have a blog and so won't find out before our next meeting. In any case, it's nice to look forward to reading a book for this group for a change.
Right now, I'm in mindless reading mode; it's good to get away from real life by reading a book where you can count on the author making everything come out right in the end. I'm also waiting for an order from Amazon -- I had to get a present for someone, and decided that, since I had free shipping, I should just get the EZ book I've been wanting, right? Maybe it'll come today...
I'm trying to enjoy my day at home, after this past week of hideousness. I spent several hours yesterday napping; I think I'm fighting off a head cold, and being stressed and losing sleep isn't helping (my big one right now is figuring out how I'm going to sleep 12 extra people in my house for one night, plus getting them all to and from the airport -- especially since we have to leave for the airport at 4:45 on a Saturday morning, and I just don't feel like I can ask many people to help with that!). So, this morning Rick kindly let me sleep in ('til 8:30 -- oh joy!; he even killed and cleaned up the ants who had invaded the pet food -- good man), and when I got up, I made cinnamon rolls.
They weren't pretty (they're a quick-bread version I found in the latest Fine Cooking, and the dough was a bit stickier than I'd anticipated), but clearly no one minded particularly. They're mostly gone now. The plan for the day: read two articles to prep for class; do laundry; make some soup for dinners during the week; roast some tomatoes to freeze; take a nap; knit a few more rows of Kauni to see what colors come up. Maybe read a little more mindless trash. Does this sound good?Yes, it does.
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