Sure, I've been quiet... but that doesn't mean I've been idle. Far from it. I've been knitting up a storm! I've even been quilting and stitching, too... it's been a productive time.
First off... admire these for a second.
Are they not divine? Are they not the best pair of mittens I've ever knit? (Disregard the fact that they're the only pair. Move along.)
They have a secret, too. Here's a taste.
Do you see that? Do you know just what that means? Here. Let me spell it out.
Each adorable, yummy mitten has an even more adorable 100% angora liner knit into it. It's like having your hands snuggled by baby rabbits. (And since they're mittens, the impaired dexterity is equivalent to wearing rabbits on your hands, as well, but this was about form, not function.)
ohmygod I love these mittens. Even better? You see that mulberry-coloured goodness that they are reposing on? Yeah. That's my new parka. It's almost as if I bought the parka to match, but I swear it isn't so.
My mom has requested a pair of these, so I get to make another pair for her, in a slightly different size and colour. I can't wait! I loved knitting these.
Other knitting goodness? Okay. Two pairs of socks in the making.
Lang Yarns Super Soxx, the Harlot's Basic Sock recipe
The first, and possibly last, socks I have knit for my husband. GODDAMN he has large feet. never realized exactly how large until the kazzilionth row came and went. The gentle variegations of the yarn is perhaps the only reason I can bear to go on.
Organic crunchy happy sunny waffle-y goodness. As you may have guessed by the colour, these ones are for me. Another half a sock to go on these.
Kate and I took a "Socks from the Toes Up" class last weekend at Wool-Tyme. It was a little confusing, and our sample socks looked like ass... well, at least mine did. However, when we met for our min-S&B on Tuesday, we figured it all out together. I've cast on for another pair of socks using the new techniques...
All that knitting! I have also put in a few hours on my wolf cross-stitch, which is a gift for DH whenever it actually gets done. I have also nearly completed another panel of the StoryBook Farm quilt... the Wooly Good Friends. Those sheep are adorable.
So now you know I haven't been lazy! (Craft-wise. Blog-wise... another story!)
It was a bad, mostly sleepless night, and when the morning came, although I was feeling a little better, I was pretty tired and wrung-out from the night. I told DH to go ahead and tour the next temple without me, and I'd see how I felt later that day for the next site.
So off he went to visit Dendera Temple. I stayed behind and slept, and by the time the group had arrived back, eaten lunch and were ready for the next site at 1630, I was more or less on my feet and had even choked down some dry toast. Damned if I was going to miss any more of Egypt's treasures. (It was bad enough that the group came back raving of Dendera. Many said, upon completion of the tour, that it was their favourite site. All the more reason to go back again.)
We visited Luxor Temple next. Dusk was falling, and although the temple was beautiful during the day, the columns and statuary lit from behind was a little other-worldly.
After we had a good crawl around the temple, we next visited a perfume shop. They made exquisite mouth-blown glass perfume vials on-site, and treated us to a showy demonstration before we got to sniff the many perfume oils. DH and I treated ourselves to some perfumes, and his sister treated us to one of the pretty vials.
Even the shop was exquisite. In the family for generations, every surface was intricately carved and inlaid with mother-of-pearl. It was a little overwhelming, actually... thousands of glass perfume bottles, each different, hand-painted and lovely; mirrors everywhere, and of course the thick scent of the perfume oils pervading one's nose. One of those "this could only happen in an Arab country" moments.
There's nothing pretty about having to get up at 0430 in the morning, and when you're on holidays, it seems especially harsh. However, we had a flight to catch from Cairo to Luxor and temples to see. No time to waste!
One thing we learned rather quickly in Egypt was that the rules, whatever they were, weren't applicable to everyone equally. The security guards at the airport carefully selected about half of the bottles of water that our tour was given that morning for disposal; the other half were allowed on the plane. Boarding passes were passed out as if they were party favours... if you happened to be given your own, then good for you, but it was pretty unlikely. And they didn't really care. Except for the one geeky little professor who went around to all 103 of the other people, looking for his own name, so that he could claim the Air Miles. (Dude. It's a half-hour flight.)
So, after enduring haphazard security and timings, we land in Luxor. Now, we are on a "first class" tour, which means we don't have to handle our own luggage. So we board the bus and wait. And wait. Finally, after 20 minutes or so, the skinniest guy that works in the entire city appears on the horizon, painfully and slowly pulling a mountain of luggage in the general direction of the buses. A few minutes later, and under the uncaring eyes of several other, more muscular airport workers, he unloads the luggage and goes back for two more laborious trips. My friends, we have just waited 45 minutes for this one scrawny Egyptian dude to haul 6 tons of luggage 30 meters. I was almost in tears by this point in time from the sheer freakin' INEFFICIENCY of the whole show. I personally could have hand-carried all the luggage in half that time.
DH and I think that perhaps Skinny Guy was being hazed. Or punished, somehow. Or maybe all the Big Muscular Men that Just Watched were once Skinny Guys, too. Who knows? Anyhow. Enough about the luggage.
We get to the ship, check in, get our room (for which DH's sister has slipped the front desk something extra to get a really nice room for us), eat lunch, and then bail back off the ship to go visit Karnak Temple.
Today I decided to wear hijab. There are few whites in Egypt, and as a white woman with an uncovered head, I really stood out. Yesterday I felt a bit squicked how the men looked at me as if I was dinner... I reasoned that if I observed modest dress (which I usually do anyhow, don't mistake me) and hijab, I would not stand out.
False reasoning, as experience taught. Once at the magnificence of Karnak (64 acres of temple, my friends. It is freaking HUGE.) I stood out worse than ever as a white hijabi. Conversations amongst both men and women would literally stop as I walked by, then continue, somewhat excitedly, after I passed. Very uncomfortable. This was the last day I veiled, except on the day we toured the mosques.
Karnak (Thebes) blew our minds. The row of sphinxes,
the hall of pillars,
the vast size... it would take a week to see it all properly. All we had was a couple of hours, so I don't feel like I did it justice. However, it was wonderful to see in any duration.
After the temple, we boarded the boat again for dinner and then sailed north on the Nile overnight. Whether it was the jet-lag or the guava I ate in its' entirety at the airport I'll never know. (I picked the guava up from the buffet because I thought it was a pear. Boy, was I surprised.) All I knew was that I didn't feel right at dinner, and by midnight, I was done. A high fever and vomiting kept me out of the game for much of Day 3. But that's a story for another time. (Not the illness. No-one needs more details of that.)
Maybe you just want me to get the heck on with the trip report, and I will, in good time... but for now, you get to share another joy with me.
"Oh Tannenbaum" has been one of those quilts that I love to hate. This project took me about a year and a half of steady working. It was the most picky, fiddly, detail-oriented quilt I have ever attempted, and I don't think I'll ever do one quite like this again. That being said, it's up, and it's lovely.
Finally.
Close-up of one of the intricate, paper-pieced German-style houses.
The tree, decorated as much as I could bear. The details were killing me in their profusion.
Cute gingerbread man button, just happy to be ornamental
The quilt didn't feel truly finished until it was hung in the place it was always intended for. Now it's home.
With the abnormally warm temperatures and deep banks of snow, my little corner of Ottawa is muffled in a thick fog. I can barely see the houses across the street.
While out running errands, I stepped out of a store and was taken away. The smell, the warmth, the fog and the damp transported me back to the West Coast, where my heart resides. I smiled, buoyed by the familiarity and welcome. It felt like anything was possible.
This little moment of joy was the last thing I expected from the fog. Thank you, God.
With the Pyramids staring us in the face when we wake up, it's only natural to get the obvious out of the way first as we begin Egypt Boot Camp. The bus ride was only 5 minutes, but even that small distance hides the true grandeur of these ancient wonders. They're bigger then you'd think, and they sent shivers down my spine to stand in the presence of such history.
We paid a small premium for a ticket and hiked up into the burial chamber of the largest pyramid. The intricate shafts and the masterful stonework awed as much as the sheer scale of the endeavor. Despite the barrenness of the King's Chamber and the stuffiness of the air, the energy there was amazing; I would have liked to pause there and just be, but time did not permit.
No time to enter the smaller pyramid, though we admired it and the jaunty cap of polished limestone it still wore.
Indiana Wayne and the Mrs.
Time for the obligatory Arab experience; the camel ride. It was touristy, gaudy, cheesy, and great.
Hanging on for dear life...
Oh yeah. The Sphinx. Smaller in person then in my mind's eye, but still amazing.
After Giza we travelled to Memphis, where a small courtyard is given the lofty title of museum. There were some spectacular pieces of statuary and a huge statue of Ramses II, carved out of a single slab of red granite.
I think he's a cutie. Smile for me, Ramses!
What's up your kilt?
Hopped into the bus to go the short distance to Saqqara, the necropolis (city of the dead) and the step pyramid. This site is much older then the Great Pyramids, and most of it is rubble that is slowly being pieced back together.
I think I'm a little jaded now about Saqqara. At the time, I thought it was pretty cool. However, having seen far more spectacular sites in the later days of the tour, the few columns and courtyards there seem pretty tame and run-down. Hard to believe I can be so blaseabout such wonders.
"Taxi, miss?"
We were supposed to tour a "carpet school" (either where they educate carpets, or teach people to make carpets... we'll never know, now) but we ran out of time due to a couple of people on the bus that couldn't keep timings.
Back to the hotel, with a warning that the next morning would be an early one (0430!) as we were flying down to Luxor for the beginning of the Nile cruise. We had an early dinner and an early night.
The fun started when we landed in Cairo. The Trafalgar reps met us at the airport in a mini-bus, and we pile in to transfer to our hotel, the Le Meriden Pyramids in Giza. I have a tendancy towards carsickness, so I sat up front with the driver. This was my first mistake.
The first, and only, rule of Cairo traffic is "there is no rules". Traffic lights are only ornamentation, as are the nice white lines painted on the roads. Speed limits are irrelevant, and pedestrians step off the curb and dart between lanes of traffic everywhere; a necessary evil as cross-walks are unknown. The two weapons that Egyptians battle the roads with is their horn and flashing head-lights (the meaning of which is either "please go ahead of me" or "piss off and die.")
I spent the entire ride to the hotel (45 minutes?) flinching, cursing silently and praying, despite the fact that traffic was deemed by our guide to be light due to the four-day long Islamic celebration ofEid al-Adha. I am a veteran of Dubai traffic, and I thought I had seen the worst, but I was proven wrong. The traffic here may be one of the reasons why Egypt is so very devout- I, too, felt closer to Allah as we veered through the insanity.
Our hotel was lovely, but far closer to the Pyramids then I felt comfortable with. Crass commercialism encroaching on ancient wonders... it just felt so wrong.
DH and I checked in, met up with his sister, had dinner, and fell into bed thankfully. Jet lag was kicking our butts, and we had a big day full of big sites the next day to prepare for.
It seemed a different world entirely this morning, getting up well before the sun, braving the snow-covered roads and extreme cold in order to get to work. (You know it's cold when your nose-hairs stick together everytime you dare to breathe.) Just a few short days ago, (or was it 3000 years?) we were basking in the Egyptian sun. The adventure is over, but now I get to share it with you and re-live the experience.
I had originally had hopes of blogging as I went, but the almost total lack of Internet access and time put the end to that pipedream. I was pleased enough to find access, such as it was, in Cairo, to let you know we had made it there despite the blizzard. I've spent these last three days since we got back just trying to get back into the hang of my life... not to mention celebrating our second wedding anniversary at Le Nordik Scandinavian spa. It was as perfect a day as I could have wanted.
I'm still downloading DH's photos, but I'll be putting up a summary of our adventures in the days to come.
On the knitting front, my airplane-and-airport knitting has netted me two socks- a lovely green varigated for my husband (done on bamboo needles so as to be acceptable to overly-paranoid airport security) and a Waffle sock for myself, done in a sunny stripy cotton-wool blend. Pics of those to follow, too, perhaps when I have a pair of anything done. (It took me twice as long to knit the sock for my husband as it did the one for me... large feet are, perhaps, his only flaw.)
I completely failed to find Egyptian yarn for a souvenir... my search was hampered by my complete lack of knowledge of the Arabic language (note to self: take lessons) and not a whole lot of time to look, either. The only yarn I spotted was some nasty acrylic imported from China. Ick.
I will try over the next few days to bring you a little relief from the bitter winter. Come travel vicariously with me. I hope that I can fill you with just a little of the awe and other-worldness of our experience.
No sleep for well over 20 hours, bad airplane food and service, but hot damned! We're in Cairo. First thoughts:
U.G.L.Y. Totally without character brick buildings, half-finished.
Sheep. Random herds of sheep in alleys. Goats, too; pegged beside apartment buildings.
Traffic. HOLY CRAP. Scary. No-one died on the way to the hotel, and I am amazed.
The pyramids at sunset. Sent a chill down my spine. Our hotel is practically on top of them; I don't know whether to be excited or cry at the encroachment of the new and cheap.
SLOW Internet. Gotta run before I run out of time. More when I can!
At noon tomorrow, DH and I have to make our way to the airport. I should be in a full-scale panic at this point in time, preparing to prepare to pack, but I just don't have it in me today. Operating under the "it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission" clause, DH and his ex planned a birthday party at our house for my youngest step-daughter. I didn't know about said party until a suspicious number of squeal-y girls had invaded the house mid-day. Had I known, I would have politely (or not-so-politely) requested the party be held at the ex's house, or at the very least bolstered my nerves with a couple of strong gin and tonics in advance. Hubby played it marvelously, though, and I couldn't even be pissed off at him after the seemingly heart-felt apology for "forgetting" to tell me. (This, to me, is like forgetting to tell me that I was on fire.)
Then, in the spirit of packing, I threw a few clothes on the bedroom floor. I don't know if they're the right clothes, but it helps me feel like I'm making progress.
I sat down in the bathroom and began braiding my hair, or at least, started. I got one gloriously long and perfect braid done, right in front. It took me 5 minutes, but I was having a hard time finishing it... my hair is much longer then it was last time I did this and was no longer possible for me to do myself. Here's hoping I can find someplace in Cairo and have it done for me, 'cause that's the only way they'll get done. Darn it.
The blizzard isn't really helping my temperament right now, either. The 37 cms. of snow that fell today has canceled pretty much everything in and out of the airport. I know it's supposed to stop overnight, but still. And for some reason Air Canada won't let me check in in advance. Argh.
I'd like to pour me a nice stiff "accident" (raspberry vodka with lime Perrier) but I suspect that will not actually help the packing process, either.
I still haven't heard how I did on my exam last week. I know it was damned hard and I felt like I bombed it, but that doesn't necessarily mean I did. Usually, that feeling means I got 80%. A feeling like I aced it means 89%. I am not a widely variable student... somewhere in the 80's, whether I try hard or not. Hopefully the teacher will email me the exam mark before I leave so there's one less thing to worry about.
I don't know if I'll get the chance to write again before I leave; probably not. So I will take this opportunity to wish everyone who celebrates a very Merry Christmas. I hope your holidays go just the way you want them to.
We will be back before New Year's Eve, but I'll most likely talk to you in 2008. Happy New Year!
When I went to LA in the spring for a work-related course, I was responsible for making my own hotel booking. It was no accident that I stayed in a hotel across from the biggest mall in Torrence. I wanted to shop guilt-free, so ate frugally in my room, saving my generous meal allowance for pretty pretty California clothes.
I met up with Victoria for the first time while I was down there, and she told me her Secret. Now, I have for my entire adult life been what Dar Williams charmingly calls a "braless wonder." I find bras uncomfortable, pointless and cruel. However, I walked into that store, determined to find out what the big fuss was all about.
I bought the first bra I ever really liked there. It's comfortable, it gives me a lovely boost, and I can forget it's even on. Why can't they all be like that?
Now that I've found a single bra that I like, I find myself wearing it more and more. Pity I only bought one as I feel a bit odd wearing the same one day in, day out. I went online and to order a single bra would be twice the price I paid in the store, by the time taxes and shipping are added on. I love that bra, but I can't decide if love is worth $80.
DH and I went to La Senza to try and find something equivalent. I bought some pretties, catching a good sale, but I find that I feel the under wires by the time a couple of hours have gone by. Dammit. I might just have to spend that $80.
They're pretty, though. I think DH is delighted that his wife is finally dressing like a lady underneath it all.
See? It's never too late to teach this old bitch a new trick. :)
I've been face-down in a calculus textbook for the last two weeks... my final exam is tomorrow and I am feeling the pressure.
In Grade 12 (many moons ago), I didn't give a rat's patootie... I knew I wasn't going to university, so what point was there in breaking my back for good marks? Now I know exactlyhow important this one single course is... it's the only required course for the program I want to take in university, so I feel like my entire fate is hanging on how well I do on it. Which kinda begs the question, "why am I blogging and not studying?", but I can't study 12 hours a day. I already feel pretty confident with the material but I also know my math-geek of a teacher will throw a curve ball or four just to make us extrapolate the material, and not just blindly plug in formulas. It's those that I worry about.
If I wasn't neck-deep in calculus, I'd be getting really, really excited about this. (ohmygodohmygod!!!) DH and I fly out next Monday to meeting his sister in Cairo for a 12-day trip to Egypt, including a week-long cruise down the Nile. (I say that like it's something I do all the time, but it sounds so surreal on "paper". I still can't believe we're going!) I haven't even really given a thought to packing, and that alone really says something about how mentally I am not there... I usually pack weeks in advance for everything and even draw diagrams and flow-charts to ensure full packing efficiency. (What can I say? I'm a little OCD at times.)
I've done two things so far... bought sunscreen and figured out how to wear my hair. The latter is a big one. I have hair down to my butt, and this isn't "jump out of bed and race to a tour-bus" hair. It's a high-maintenance thing, requiring gallons of conditioner and an hour of fussing after every casual dip in the pool. I don't want to have to worry about that while I'm lounging casually on a cruise ship, or hiking through ancient ruins. So I'm cornrowing it. I did it once before, during a similar trip (3 weeks backpacking Italy and Greece) and it was wonderfully low maintenance and stayed pretty throughout. Yes, this means I get to sit for hours on Monday putting 60-80 little braids in my hair, but seriously, the time and fuss that this will save during the trip will make it all worth-while. I'll have DH get some pics before and after... it's always fun.
We get back on the 30th of Dec, and 1 Jan is our 2nd anniversary. I found the perfect way to celebrate with my love. For our wedding, we rented a hot-tub and had a fun party in the snow... it was a perfect way to celebrate, as far as we are concerned. So, in homage to that party, I am taking DH to Le Nordik spa across the river in the Republic of Quebec. Outdoor Scandinavian baths, people. And massages. And tapas with Leffe. Are you hearing how perfect this is???! I will have a hard time keeping this a surprise.
We love thermal spas... we've been to a couple in Europe, in Terme Čatež (however you think it's pronounced, you're wrong (unless you're Slovenian)) and Bled. I have high hopes for this one, considering it's much closer then Slovenia. And, as far as these things go, reasonable priced.
So. Now I have no doubt made you feel like driving an icepick through my heart because of all the name-dropping of exotic travel destinations. I don't mean to sound snobby, it's just that DH and I love to travel! Egypt will quite possibly be the last really cool place for years, though; I can't see myself having the money to travel much while in university, to say nothing of the time. With that thought in mind, I am motivated to enjoy this trip to the fullest; from planning and packing to the adventure itself.
I look out the window from my computer room and I see this:
The snow is drifting up to my waist in places. I remember feeling quite confident that we wouldn't have any snow to speak of until just before Christmas... was it my bravado that did us all in?
The pictures on the inside of the house are nicer, though.
I am sewing the binding on Oh Tannenbaum... I may actually have this German Christmas-themed quilt ready for Christmas!
Something that is ready well before Christmas:
This happy little Christmas cactus is always early. And beautiful. Want another shot? I do.
I think a certain furry someone in the house has the right idea about what to do on a snowy afternoon.
There's nothing like two weeks of freakin' blizzards to light the proverbial fire under one's needles. I finished the Stripy Alpaca Scarf a few days ago, and immediately cast on for a hat. I'd like to say a matching hat, but the fates did not so decree. I was intending to do a Coronet hat, but use the brioche stitch for the body instead of the stockinette.
Easier said than done. The brioche stitch in the round is a bitch, no doubt about it, especially when you're holding two strands together. I couldn't make it work, despite three tries, and decided to make a hat I could wear *this* winter, not next. Stockinette it was.
The fact that I held two different colours of yarn together adds a bit of zing to this hat, I think. The random pattern of orange and brown look cryptic, like a hidden cypher. I like it, and I love how it fits and feels. Not to mention that I went from "cast on" to "finished object" in three days. Take that, "gosh you're a slow knitter" lady. (Yes, I still bear emotional scars from her comment... :) )
Bring on the snow. My hat and neck, at least, are ready.
