Note to self

Do not open email after 5:00. Even if my conscience says that I am on three search committees this semester, and that I have students who might need to ask me questions, and that the responsible thing to do would be to check email, I should not listen to it. My conscience clearly took quite a few recreational drugs in its youth, and its opinions are not to be trusted.

Further note to self: if, in spite of knowing that this is a bad idea, I do, in fact check email and find horrible bomb-like messages waiting for me, I must not give in to the temptation to pour myself a stiff belt of Talisker and wander around the house ranting and raving about the family connections of the writers of said missives. They are, in fact, not misbegotten newt-spawn, and I should remember not to insinuate that they are. Furthermore, I should not turn over my email program password to my children, cackling madly, and suggest that they write responses for me. If I do manage not to take these dramatic steps, I should not take the alternative route of locking myself in the bathroom with a gallon of ice cream, a jar of chocolate sauce, and a spoon, to while away an hour or two sobbing into the frozen dairy products, only to be brought out by representatives of the local fire department. (Further note to self: planning to flirt with the aforementioned members of the fire department will not go over well if one is a bloated wreck covered in ice cream drippings and chocolate sauce.)

The good news is that these little hints to myself on the appropriate response to stressful events at my place of employment seem to have worked. After posting last night, and listening to my drug-addled conscience, and finding more hideous email yuckiness, I neither drank myself to distraction nor ate the lovely Double Rainbow vanilla ice cream calling from the freezer. I instead turned to two of the most soothing activities I could think of besides the drinking/overeating options. First, I made dinner. In my 12-inch cast-iron skillet. I don't know about you all, but nothing in my kitchen makes me happier than the combination of my cast-iron skillet and my stove. Nothing. So, I made a frittata, which is one of those lovely things that comes together quickly and makes everyone happy (I've put my "recipe" at the end of the post; it ain't classy, but it works). After that was done cooking, I cleaned out the skillet and made Irish soda bread. Mmmm....

While everything cooked, I sat down and began knitting my bracelet with my handspun silk yarn. Remember how I said that spinning was more fun than a basket full of kittens? Well, knitting with one's own handspun is more fun than a basket full of kittens with whipped cream and cherries on top. OK, ewww, but you know what I mean. Honestly, though, when it was knitted up, it kind of looked like, well, you know -- yarn. Real yarn, I mean, not yarn I made. This could get addictive.

I'm off to Clear Lake tomorrow for fieldwork, and then back again. With luck, Sunday will be a day to recover, get some grading done, and maybe do some more knitting.

Frittata recipe: Get out the skillet and some olive oil. Turn the oven on to about 350, or, if you're baking something else, to whatever temperature that thing needs (I am all about flexibility in the kitchen). Heat some oil in the skillet while you chop up whatever vegetables you've got that look good. If you're a meat-eating sort of person, you could also cut up some sliced ham or prosciutto, or a bit of bacon or sausage, or something else of that nature. Saute all of that, either together, or, if they have different cooking times, add the longest-cooking stuff first, and keep adding the rest until everything's in the pan. Cook until they're not quite done. While everything cooks, crack between 8 and 10 eggs into a bowl and mix. Grate some cheese and throw it in with the eggs (or crumble in some goat cheese or feta). Put in salt and pepper, or paprika, or herbes de provence, or whatever floats your boat. When everything in the skillet is done, turn the stove off and spread the cooked veggies evenly across the bottom of the pan. Pour the eggs and cheese in on top. Chuck the whole thing in the oven (see why I love cast-iron?) until the eggs are set and the top is browned. It actually took me longer to write this than it does to make it. And the kids like it. Sometimes I do potatoes and bacon and goat cheese. Last night I did broccoli and cheddar. Sometimes it's leeks and goat cheese and herbes de provence. You can chop up veggies like bell peppers to put on the side if you like, or make a salad. Buttered toast is a nice accompaniment.

"Cheer up, things could get worse...

so I cheered up, and sure enough, things got worse."
-- my mom

Mom clearly has a dark sense of humor.

Things at work just refuse to become better. I am working very hard not to give in to the temptation to storm the halls, shouting, "Behave like grown-ups! This is not kindergarten!" But as that would be a bit childish in itself, I'm guessing that it wouldn't make the situation any better. Alas. Because I'm thinking that it would certainly feel good in the doing.

The effort to control my baser impulses has been heroic, and has had several implications for my evening hours. The first is that I find myself avoiding my computer like the plague, as I never know what email bombs may lurk in its depths. The second is that by the time I get home, get dinner going, get the kids through homework and into bed, I'm done for. I've been crawling into bed soon after the girls do. This is not conducive to knitting, as I can't seem to lie down, read, and knit at the same time. It's also not conducive to taking pictures of anything, so I still have no photos of the silk that I spun over the weekend. Soon, soon...

OK, I decided that was a cop-out, and took a quick picture using the computer, just so you can see. Here:
This is the silk that Wanda sent me, along with a lovely spinning video that I haven't had a chance to post about (one more thing to get to). I'm still planning to knit myself an i-cord bracelet out of it, and as soon as Jan suggested finding a bead for a special closure, I knew what I had to use. These are two lovely greenstone markers/pendants that Stella sent me in the fall that have been waiting for the exact perfect use, and I've found it. The colors don't show as well here as they should, but the green picks up some of the darker greens in the silk and is a lovely complement. Now I just need to figure out in my head how to make a loop on one end to go around the beads at the other. Contemplating this has gotten me through several interminable meetings with cranky people lately.

Meanwhile, in other news, Older Daughter grows apace. Her school shoes became too small, apparently overnight, and in a fit of desperation I dove into my closet and appeared with a pair of shoes that I bought myself some time ago that just don't make my feet happy. They fit her. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about the fact that my not-quite-ten-year-old can wear my shoes. In looking for the silver lining, it occurs to me that this means that she will not be able to borrow my shoes when she's in high school. This is good, yes?

Warning: Actual knitting content

I had planned to post this all on Sunday, but with one thing and another, it's Tuesday, and I'm just getting to it now. I woke up Sunday morning to find a note on my bedside table from Younger Daughter, asking if I would make muffins when I woke up. There was even a line for my response (Younger Daughter is nothing if not organized in reaching her goals). She seemed very disappointed that I told her that I would make muffins, rather than using the line provided for my use in answering. I asked if she'd rather I wrote her a response, or got cracking on the muffins. She conceded that she would forgo a reply note in favor of quicker muffin-baking. The coffee, of course, got started first, but then I managed to throw together some blue cornmeal and dried cherry muffins (with buttermilk of course), thanks to the handy-dandy Tassajara bread book, without which life would be a lot less interesting.

As I had finished Gust on Saturday night, I wove the ends in while waiting for the muffins to bake, and looked at the usual heap o' lace that is a pre-blocked scarf.
(The bad light is the result of rainy weather and indoor lighting.) Lace never really looks like much when it's just off the needles, does it?

So, I chucked it into the sink for an hour to let it think about its behavior.
(Note the cup of coffee up there in the right corner. Nothing happens on a weekend morning before coffee. Nothing.) Muffins eaten and scarf thoroughly wet and chastised, I ruthlessly pinned it out and let it dry. The nice thing about silk is how quickly it dries (especially with the ceiling fan on), but there was plenty of time to play a new board game (Ticket to Ride Europe -- a gift from Rick's sister; it turns out to be great fun) with Rick and the girls while casting on for the second violets rising sock. Then I went to unpin the scarf. I have declared myself pleased with it, and wore it yesterday (and yes, I did again plan an entire outfit around one knitted piece) and again today.
I love the colors of this scarf.
And the geometry of the lace pattern makes me very happy. It's incredibly light and folds down to a very small size (ah, silk), but it's nice and warm around my neck, which is perfect for the slightly cool weather we're having. So, to recap. This is the pattern Gust, by Anne, knitted on size 4 Addis, in Ball and Skein Arequipa in the Atlantic colorway. (I can't seem to link to Anne's blog or shop right now, but if you go to www.knitspot.com, you should be able to find it.) I didn't use the whole skein, and am now looking at what's left trying to think of what interesting thing I could do with it. Something will come to me.

Speaking of silk, I also finished spinning and plying the lovely silk that Wanda sent me; I'll post a picture of that next time. I have some ideas for how to use it, but I need to let them ferment just a bit more before I start anything.

I never did get a chance to post any pictures of the knitting I did for the Loopy Swap, and looking back, I realize that I only took one picture of one of the things I sent, alas. But here it is.
These are Anne's zigzag mitts, which I knit in Louet DK weight yarn in a lovely bright red. I was a little worried about the red, but I liked the mitts so much in the solid color when I was done that I had some trouble letting them go in the end. I also ended up knitting a modified zigzag scarf, just one pattern repeat wide, and short enough to wear tucked into a sweater, out of the way. Part of the swap was to include something from where I live, so I packed up Peet's coffee, See's candy, and two Bacon avocados. Californians, did I represent us appropriately? (For those who are keeping track, it was the avocados that caused me to postpone mailing the package until a day after the last of the mailing dates; I wanted to get some from the farmer's market that would be underripe enough to ripen in the box on the way there.)

At this point, I'm well on my way down the leg of the second violets rising sock, which will go to Older Daughter when I'm done (in spite of the fact that they fit me; that child is growing!), and then it's on to the second of Rick's socks. I should get quite a bit of knitting done today, between a faculty meeting, and our on-campus knitting group meeting, and sitting through Younger Daughter's Irish dance lesson. Meanwhile, I'm already starting to contemplate what knitting project I should take with me on our trip over spring break...

I know it's cold when...

Gwilim spends the day following me around the house, meowing plaintively whenever I leave the room, and actually jumping into my lap and lying down. You have no idea how rare this is.
Can you see him there on my lap, curled up while I'm trying to work on the computer? Yup, that's Gwilim, the original not-lap-cat. Neither of the cats is really a lap cat, which I am still adjusting to, as my beautiful Simmer, who died two years ago at the age of 16, was the ultimate lap cat. She could sit on my lap by the hour, which served many purposes, not least of which was to pin me down when I needed to get reading or grading done (it would appear that I am congenitally incapable of disturbing a sleeping cat, or even a cat who is pretending to sleep so that I won't disturb her; I'm a sucker that way).

When it's cold, though, Gwilim decides that the warmth afforded to him by my lap (or by my legs at night), is worth the trouble of jumping up and settling down. And thanks to him, I did indeed have a very productive day. Yesterday was the first Friday I've had in weeks that didn't involve a three-plus hour meeting. What a relief. I spent the whole day tucked away in the house, alone, getting work done. It was raining and cold, which was perfect working weather, and I made the most of it. If I can get two more piles of grading done tomorrow, I might start to feel like I could actually catch up someday. Imagine that. I'm almost afraid to say it out loud, but with luck, the Universe is illiterate and won't notice that I'm tempting fate.

Today dawned sunny, and knowing that rain was coming again tonight, we made the most of it. We had a relaxing morning and then headed down to Balboa to go to the museums (museum entry is half-price this month at thirty museums in San Diego county). The only major disappointment was that we'd planned to go to the Copper Age archaeology exhibit at the Museum of Man, and in spite of the fact that it's still advertised on their web site, it had already moved on. However, we had a lovely time, and then Rick and the girls went to see an IMAX film at the Fleet while I read outside (IMAX makes me sick to my stomach). We even got Ethiopian food for dinner. Mmm...

I forget sometimes how much I love watching people in an urban setting like Balboa park. Anything that a person can be, someone is, in a setting like that. I watch all of these people around me, everyone doing their own version of this thing we call living, in all of the infinite variations that are possible, and I feel an overwhelming affection for all of them. And you know that if I met them all individually, there are probably some whom I'd really dislike, but there's something about seeing everyone together that just makes me so glad that people are different from me and from each other. It makes me happy to see all of the ways that there are out there to do life, some better than others, many of them really good, and every one unique. And, as I used to say about living in Berkeley, there's almost nothing that I can do that is stranger than what someone else is doing within arm's reach of me in a place like that. It appeals to the part of me that prefers to blend in; I'm completely unnoticeable when there are so many people who are out there performing life with so much more overt exuberance than I.

None of this, as happy as it all is, has been conducive to much in the way of knitting. I did get quite a few repeats of Gust done last night while playing a new game with the kids and Rick, and I'm hoping that I might be able to finish it tonight. If so, there will be blocking shots tomorrow, and with this one, comparing the before and after shots should be good fun. Then, it's the second violets rising sock, and on to Rick's second sock. I am not typically a person who takes a break between first socks and second socks, and having two seconds to finish is making me a little bit nervous, I must admit.

I'm so glad that I threw the Kestrel question out there to you people; I knew I could count on you. I got some amazing suggestions of yarn that's already out there, as well as an offer to dye a colorway like the one I'm looking for, which may be the route that I go, if it turns out to be possible. I'm feeling fairly picky about this one, as I know that I'll be putting a lot of time into Irtfa'a, given the fact that I've never knit a shawl this big before, and I've never knit anything with faroese shaping. But if I could finish it before our various travels this summer, it seems like it would be the perfect plane/cold summer evening shawl, so it will be well worth the time.

On the road again

I tell you, I don't think I can take any more meetings. Aren't I supposed to be a teacher? I mean, I'm pretty sure that was what it said when I applied for the job. It didn't say anything about endless meetings. Nope, definitely not. There's no way I would have signed up for that.

The worst is that many of these have been non-knitting meetings. So I don't even have a) the feeling of having accomplished something even during the meetings that involve talking in circles, or b) that little something that helps me to pause that crucial moment between thinking something and opening my mouth. I say far fewer stupid or impolitic things when knitting during meetings than I do when I'm not. This is especially true when I've been in four hours' worth of meetings in a row, as I was today, after which I had to impose an email moratorium on myself, lest I say something truly stupid in documentable form.

I have been making progress on Gust, though. It is a very nice knit; the pattern is memorizable, and the yarn entertains me with its color shifts -- I keep looking to see what will come next. I've decided to get a bit further with it, and then to cast on for the second Violets Rising sock for Older Daughter, and after that's done, to finish Rick's second sock. Meanwhile, I am on a mission, a mission with which you can perhaps help me. It goes like this.

I want to knit Irtfa'a. I still love the motifs, even after knitting Simurgh, and I have always wanted to knit a shawl with faroese shaping, and judging by the fact that I keep revisiting pictures of it and admiring the ones knit by others, this is the one for me. I want to knit it not in a ravenesque colorway, as I did with Simurgh, but in colors like those of a kestrel. I adore raptors in general, but there's something about kestrels that really captures my imagination. Maybe it's their small size and spunk (over-identification? see above discussion about impolitic comments). Maybe it's the way they are able to hover, mid-air, by beating their wings like figure eights in the air. Whatever it is, I think that finding a yarn with those colors would make a lovely summertime shawl, and I'm on a mission. What does a kestrel look like you say? Why, like this.

Lovely, no? There are more pictures here; I won't inundate you with them here. I have this theory that somewhere I'm going to find a laceweight yarn, more of the wool sort than the silk sort, with the same beige/tan/grey/blue shades of this bird. Wishful thinking? I'd like to believe it's not. But meanwhile, it gives me something to look for, eh? It's a way to prolong the knitting pleasure.

I also finished spinning the beautiful silk that Wanda sent me, using my turkish spindle. I'm hoping I'll get to ply it soon. It's a relatively small amount, and I'm considering knitting an i-cord bracelet for myself with it, which seems like a fun way to keep something beautiful and some of my spinning around me, all at the same time. I'll post a picture of it next time.

Meanwhile, I'm off to Fresno tomorrow evening and Thursday to do fieldwork, so I probably won't get to post again until Friday. I'll be taking some knitting with me, so maybe there will be time in the car to get something done. In the meantime, I do believe that a glass of port and a piece of dark chocolate are waiting for me next to my knitting chair.

Spinning my wheels

Yes, that would be what is known in the trade as a double entendre. Not a very good one, I admit, but I'm goin' with what I've got.

The brief story on work is that it's the same. The crises are the same, so the talk about them is the same, which is my least-favorite kind of situation: one in which we talk again and again about how bad things are, and how there's nothing more to do about the bad things than we're already doing, but what are we to do? (This is not unlike American politics, come to think about it.)

So, I worked my tail off all week last week with the stated goal of taking a few hours off on Friday morning to go to Encinitas before the next big crisis meeting. Why Encinitas, you ask? Well, because the wonderful women at Common Threads have decided to bring spinning to their store, and were having a spinning open house, complete with lots of women from several guilds from as far away as Orange county there with their wheels, some of which were even available for neophytes to try. I was there.

In fact, I was so there that I arrived some time before any of the spinners did. Apparently, I was a bit eager (I also wanted to be sure to be back in time for my meeting, while still getting maximum spinning time). So I poked around, and then watched happily as spinners galore arrived and began to unload wheels. The first to arrive was a Majacraft, and two travelling wheels whose names I didn't catch, made by a man in Massachusetts, which fold up into lovely little boxes that have carrying bags. Then two Ashford Kiwis arrived, and the owner had her Louet Victoria set up. Life was good.

I did my part, chatting to two other watching women who had been thinking that spinning was maybe interesting, but had never tried it, and who were shocked at the wheel prices that were being bandied about. I promptly snagged a spindle from a nearby basket (I so wished I'd brought mine, as they are much prettier), and told them that a spindle was a much easier entry point than a multi-hundred dollar wheel. I also pointed them towards the lovely roving that the store had laid in, after snagging the most beautiful one for myself (I'm an enabler, but I'm not foolish). Of course, in the interests of honestly, I explained to them that I only got my spindles a little while ago, and I love them, and I'm thinking it might be time to add a wheel to my collection. But I'm thinking I did my part to lure innocents towards the dark side. Janice, are you proud?

Then I got to play on a Kiwi. The woman who'd brought it apparently does demonstration spinning at places like Renaissance Faires, and clearly loves not only her craft, but also teaching people about it. I got a quick run-down on the parts of a wheel (which made me feel much better about approaching one; this must be the academic in me -- information first), and then I had at it. All I can say is what I said last time; spinning in general, and a spinning wheel in particular, is more fun than a basket full of kittens (and a lot less poky, to boot). I finally ceded a wheel to one of the other nice observers, bought my roving (in spite of the longing looks of another woman standing there who informed me that if I'd let it go even a little bit, she would have snatched it immediately), and raced to my meeting. The roving is an interesting merino/tencel blend, dyed in beautiful, almost goth-y, purples. Oh, do you want to see it? OK:
The picture doesn't really do it justice. It's quite lovely. Now, you could all say to me with some justice that it was rather ludicrous of me to buy more roving, given that I already have a small stash of gorgeous roving, and only two spindles upon which to spin it. You might say that it was a particularly senseless thing to do, given that it involved denying the purchase of the roving to another woman who might have very much enjoyed it (just so you all know I'm not a complete meanie, I will tell you that the woman who dyed the roving was there, and took an order for another one just like it from the person who wanted it; I just love a happy ending). You might be right but for one thing.

The woman who owns the store has decided to set up both of her Louet wheels in the store for customers to use, assuming that they're willing to buy the Louet bobbins to spin on. How very cool is that? And while she didn't say anything like this, it does seem to me that if one is going to use someone's wheel for free in their store, one ought to use it to spin roving purchased at that store, no? Hence the grabbing of the gorgeousness while the grabbing was good. And, as a matter of fact, I was back there yesterday with Older Daughter (with whom I was running errands that just happened to take us further and further south until, my goodness, there we were in Encinitas! And I just happened to have my new roving in the car! How providential!), and I spun for almost an hour. Which I should mention is a long time if you're new to this spinning thing. Here's what I produced:
Yes, it is uneven. But for my first real time spent on a wheel, I'm pretty pleased. Note the weird squiggles in some places, where the yarn didn't wind onto the bobbin right. I was sure that was me. For one thing, every time someone walked up to me and said something, I completely lost the whole drafting rhythm I had going, and a couple of times somehow got the wheel going backwards for a turn. But when I got home late last night, there was a message waiting for me from Nancy which said, call me, I've got an insight on your spinning. I called her today, and it turns out that the band which should have been on the spindle apparently wasn't, which meant some pretty wonky behavior. All she said was, if you were doing that well without everything set up right, you were doing well. Which was nice to hear. I told her I'd be back (apparently I'm a sucker for compliments, however untrue they might turn out to be).

Meanwhile, there has been knitting. I have been testing Anne's new Violets Rising sock pattern, and have completed the first sock. I made them Older Daughter size, but her feet are now so big they're almost my size, so I modelled them for the pictures. The different color toe is not part of the pattern; it's a reaction to my fear that I might not have quite enough yarn to finish the second sock. I'm using the Dream in Color Smooshy that I used some of to knit my SIL's Christmas mitts. This is such a fun pattern; it reminds me a little of the Marie Antoinettes, in that you do need to keep the chart handy, but it goes so fast because of that; there's just no chance at all of getting bored, and the results are so pretty -- I kept waiting for the next violet to appear, and was thoroughly charmed each and every time (apparently, I'm easily amused).
I love the violets on the top, and the vines towards the bottom, all very curvy and organic.
You've got to go see them knit up in the yarn that Anne's using; it's for a sock of the month club that allows buying only one month, and I tell you, I'm tempted. The colors and the pattern together are perfect. I'm really looking forward to casting on the second one. I finished the first this morning while at Older Daughter's swim meet (she swam all four 50-meter events, even fly -- I was very proud of her; then all the kids swam not one, but two relays, and a couple of them even went for a third!), and with luck, I'll start the second tonight, after I finish the laundry, and vacuum at least the main rooms. I'd far rather be knitting.

Tomorrow, I do not have President's Day off, so I will be teaching classes, as usual. Let's see how many students make it, shall we?

Coming and going

It's been a week for packages, one way or another. I'm about to leave to post my Loopy Swap package. I'm a day past the deadline, but in this case, it's actually because there was something I wanted to add that I needed to get this morning (well, to be totally fair, that I needed Rick to get; he's doing it now). I'll share once it's been received, but I'm hoping my swap partner thinks it was worth the extra day! Here's a picture of everything but those last things all packed up.
I'm rather pleased with the way all the coppery tones came together.

And, of course, I received my amazing Loopy Swap package. This is only the second swap I've ever done, but I seem to be very lucky in my partners. Here's everything unwrapped (each item was individually and lovingly wrapped up with a little label, but of course I ripped into all of them so fast that there were no pictures to be had).
Yes, that would be three, count 'em, three, beautifully handknit items all for me! I've only ever had one other thing knit for me (that's a story worth telling sometime; it was before I was a knitter, and I realize now how much I didn't adequately appreciate everything that went into it). The bag, which is felted, is long enough for a straight needle project, while being shallow and wide enough to find everything inside. And the lighter blue item is a gorgeous lace shawl, wide enough to cover my shoulders, and short enough not to get in the way. I can tell it's going to be my all-time favorite sitting and reading and grading shawl. And then right there on top, a pair of socks. Someone knit me socks!

The socks and the shawl are gorgeous; Jessica clearly knows her lace. Check them out.
(I'm so glad I waited for better light to take these pictures, by the way; these really deserve to be shown off.) And of course, the barbecue sauce is sitting on my counter, waiting to be used. I'm thinking I should plan a meal around barbecued pork something-or-other tomorrow night. What do you think?

I also received a surprise package from Anne, with some yarn that I'm dying to play with. But I'm promising myself I'll be disciplined and finish what I'm working on first. Sometimes I hate being a grown up. These two in particular are calling to me.
I'm starting to poke around Barbara Walker's books to see if I can find the perfect motif to use on that one on the right. It needs to be a lightweight shawl for the fall, doesn't it? For me. And look how fun these are.
The ones on the right may have to be something for my mother. The colors are right up her alley. And the yarn on the left is begging to be socks for Younger Daughter. I don't know why, they just are. (There's something about that child that screams future goth, or punk, or whatever the equivalent will be when she's in high school. I have known this since she was born. I'm scared.)

And so my plans get ahead of my needles. Such is life, no?

Anne commented that it seems odd to think of February as spring, and it's true. I'm about to go on a limb and publicly post an observation that is based on living in California my whole life. Rick (the wanna-be meteorologist of the family) laughs at me and tells me this is all in my head. But honestly, I've lived in the San Joaquin valley, LA, San Diego, and the Bay Area, and this has happened more than not in all of those places (all the rest of you out here, tell me if you think I'm right). So, here I go. As many winters as not, February does a very odd thing. For a week or two, everything warms up. And I mean, really warms up. I remember in Sacramento, it would go from 30-degree weather, tule fog every night, to 75 degrees or so. And everyone packs up their winter coats, and gets excited for spring, and thinks that they can believe winter has ended. And just as soon as we've decided that winter is really and truly ended, bam! We're back to cold and sleet. I tell you, it's February's little way of making us pay for assuming that as Californians, it's our right to have good weather.

All right, Rick is back, and I need to get to the post office before it closes. More tomorrow about my adventures with a spinning wheel.