FO... Again.

I have a knitting disorder.

Specifically, I have a mitten knitting disorder. I cannot, for love nor money, turn out two consecutive mittens of the same size. My needles and yarn don't change, but lo and behold, the second mitten is invariably larger than the first.

For the first pair of "Warm Cozy Mittens", I had to knit three to turn out two the same size. The pattern held true for the second pair, as well... and they were a gift, so I needed to crank that third true-to-size mitten out in a week. Fortunately, I am getting good at these mittens and nearly have the pattern memorized. There's something to be said for excessive repetition.

Here's the second pair in all their glory.







And here's the recipient, enjoying them. Again, excessively. I am hoping Alberta has a rather bitterly cold spring, because her hands will be way too warm otherwise... :)





My mum is a freak. That's okay. At least I know where I get it from. :)

These People Have Met Me.

The Recipe For Susan

3 parts Mania 2 parts Enchantment 1 part Shrewdness Splash of Flair Finish off with an olive

What's the Recipe for Your Personality?

5 More Days

Though spring is persistently absent, I have begun to turn the house upside down and shake it out. Saturday I picked up the paintbrush for the first time in a long while and painted the trim in the upstairs hallway, main bathroom and got a start on the ensuite bathroom. The trim includes no fewer than 7 doors, two of which needed to be painted on both sides.

I hate painting doors, as no matter how smooshy your roller is, there are invariably textured lines that didn't get the paint. I'm a little obsessive about my painting. That's what today was for... travelling all over the house with a tiny paintbrush, touching up the assorted nicks, gouges and dings the walls have taken over the last couple of years. They (and the people who so carelessly inflict them) drive me mental.

All this frantic painting-cleaning-patching-decorating has absolutely nothing to do with the fact my mom and dad are coming on Friday.

Momma Has New Shoes!

Can anyone guess what sort of naughtiness I plan on getting into with these babies strapped on?



It's actually a whole range of trouble... from Foxtrot to Salsa, Waltz to Tango, Swing to Rumba... bring it on!!!

I have a deep, abiding passion for dance. It's been on hold for years as I recovered from knee injury and surgery, but there is nothing stopping us now from getting out on the dance floor!

DH and I have had two seasons of Ballroom/Latin lessons a few years back, but have nicely forgotten everything. We're now enrolled in private lessons and intend never to forget anything again. Dance is just too life-affirming to let slip away... we may never be very good at it, but we will always have fun.

I am so blessed to have a man who is as passionate about dance (and life and love and everything else) as I am.

Day 7: Abu Simbal

Christmas Day.

A side-trip via airplane to Abu Simbal. This tour was an add-on, since it encompassed an hour's flight south of Aswan to nearly the Sudan border. That being said, I don't think you've properly seen Egypt without seeing this site. "Amazing" doesn't begin to cover it.









The sheer scale of these monuments boggles. The faces of the Pharaoh are 4 meters broad. In a couple of the shots, you can see an Egyptian man with white robes near the bottom left... that might give you a sense of scale.

This was another massive UNESCO rescue site. They essentially cut the mountain into pieces, moved it and rebuilt it outside of the flood zone.

The most amazing thing about this place was the amazing motifs and paintings inside the temples. Never before had we seen such colour, detail, relief and artistry. Unfortunately, photography was forbidden inside.

A truly exhausting day. So much transportation- ship to bus to bus to plane to bus to bus and reverse that for the trip home. Anything less spectacular than Abu Simbal and the day would have been a total disaster. However, when your ultimate destination is this amazing, it kind makes all the crazy travel worth it. Not that I wasn't exhausted, dehydrated and travel sick by the end of it; just happy to be back on the boat and have nothing to do the next day but sail.

Birdie Num-Nums

I love my little backyard birdies. However, the Howling Gale (TM) that roared in last weekend buried, and I mean buried, the feeders. What used to be at my eye level, was now nearly lost beneath the snow. I felt sorry for the little guys, and applied some good old Canadian technology to the problem of how to get to the feeder for a dig-out and refill.




The gal next door came outside, ostensibly to let her dogs out, but really it was to ask her crazy neighbor if she was *really* snow-shoeing in the back yard. Why, yes, I am.

Mission accomplished! The feeder is full and accessible again. And, as I whispered to my cat later that evening, I fed her TV. :)

A reminder of what the yard looks like in summer... bird feeder is at extreme left.

Bonus points to anyone who tells me in a comment where I got the title of this post from... without the use of a search engine.

No Affirmation Here

I received offers of acceptance for college this week. Far from being the overwhelmingly exciting event that university acceptance would have been (even though it's now almost a moot point), being accepted into the college program of my choice was pretty much a non-event. I think it's commensurate with the effort required.

For my university application, I arranged for roughly ten assorted documents, from 7 or 8 different academic institutions (!) and wrote an essay. Although they have receieved a mountain of paperwork from me, the status of my application still apparently hangs pending on a transcript for a course I'm actually taking now. I'm jumping through hoops; I feel like quality control on who goes to university is high. You get in if you deserve to get in.

College? Well. I supplied them with my not-too-bad high school transcripts from 20 years ago. The transcripts for the night school courses I have been slaving over for the last two years hadn't even made it there when they made their offers. Subtext? You probably have a pulse, and you're not a complete idiot, so you're in.

It's not at all the benediction or affirmation I was longing for. That being said, practicality trumps all (this time) and I'll need to continuously re-adjust my expectations.

Balancing the Universe

I was reading the Tsock Tsarina this week and almost blew a gasket... she has posted pictures of crocuses about to bloom on her yard. I need not say anything to the Ottawa people, you all know why this almost drives me insane, but for the rest of you, here's why.



I cannot believe that grass even exists at this point in time, to say nothing of crocuses.

To instill some small edge of balance into my world, I have cast on for the most spring-like sock you can imagine.


Another round of Monkey, in luscious Arequipa, Lily Pond colourway. Toe-up, Turkish cast-on.

These socks are appropriately called "Dreaming of Crocuses", and they will grace my feet long after the Tsarina's ts-crocuses are gone for the season. A small victory, but I'll take it.

A finished object: the first and maybe last pair of socks for DH. These took SO LONG to knit!


His pant-leg is cleverly concealing the fact that they aren't really the same size. I think that happened when I was working to finish them off and watching "The Motorcycle Diaries" at the same time. I know the Harlot cautioned against watching sub-titled movies while knitting, but, well, I need to learn every lesson the hard way. Hubby swears he doesn't care. That, my friends, is true love in action. :)

Sure Feels That Way

A couple of days ago, lulled by the scent of March and the brief time it was actually ten degrees above zero (!), I booked my bi-annual hair appointment. My hair doesn't need a lot of attention but twice a year, like it or not, I have an inch or two hacked off the bottom to keep the split ends under control. I enjoy the whole ritual of the shampoo, too, though I usually forgo the blow-dry as I don't heat-treat my hair at all.

The appointment is at 1300 today. My hair salon is maybe a 10 minute walk away... but I called and canceled. I was betrayed by my premature thoughts of me walking back from the appointment, freshly-cut hair drying in the (soon-to-be) spring sunshine. Instead, I get this.


Snow; about 4 inches overnight, and ice pellets. Not to mention the high winds. It makes me want to weep or scream or both... I am so sick of this whole winter business! It's been long and brutal.... I think that we've had well over ten feet of snow this far (over the entire season.)

So. No haircut, no nice shampoo. My consolation prize? Studying for a calculus test tonight, and then if I have a little spare time, I'll see if I can crank out an essay on political philosophy. The next six weeks are guaranteed to be nasty while I wrap up this philosophy course and struggle to wrap my feeble mind around Calculus and Vectors.

There may, however, be a consoling pot of pear green tea and a little knitting along the way. It's not all suckiness, all the time... but at times it sure feels that way.

Sideways

After confidently stating a couple of posts ago that I'd be okay no matter which way the balls fell and my future was decided, my bravado was sorely put to the test this week. It seems I was more invested emotionally in the university idea then I had thought... although it's still very much a possibility, I have been denied funding through work. The program under which I am applying has a cap at two years: I need a diploma or certification in my hands within that period or no funding. Of course, a five-year co-op program is completely out of the question.

Now I face a difficult decision. I can still go to university (providing I get accepted...) but it's on my dime. (And, as my husband joked repeatedly, with a pained look on his face, we'd be eating KD every day for 5 years to swing it financially.) Or, I can take advantage of the truly amazing benefits package by toning my plans down and going to college.

I was crushed on Tuesday when I found out. Now that I've had a little cry, a lot of talking with my support crew (DH, mom, friends...), a glass of wine or two with afore-mentioned friends, and a little research under my belt, I'm more or less okay with this. This doesn't have to end the dream; just a speed bump along the way. There's a course I can take at a local college, get the damned piece of paper in two years, transfer the credits to Athabasca and get my degree from them. Not quite what I had pictured. I loved the Carleton campus so, and had daydreams of me being all studious and geeky there. College just doesn't have the same panache... but it has turned out that it's impossible for me to turn down free education, lacking panache or not.

I Couldn't Wait

I have been logging in to my application at the university every five minutes this week to see if anything was new. Okay, not *quite* every five minutes, but far, far more then is called for. They finally received my last bit of documentation early last week, and I know I'm expecting miracles to think that any decisions will be made anytime soon, but the suspense is killing me.

I went on a tour today of the computer lab and listened to the director of the game development stream give a talk. You don't know how badly I'd love that stream, but I know that time pressures for game coders are pretty extreme. I'm taking this degree to claim my life back and live on my own time, not to be up for 48 hours straight coding to meet a production deadline. Sure sounds interesting, though.

It was a great week for goodies from Canada Post. (Okay, I bought them all myself, but when I see a parcel in the mailbox, it just plain feels good!) On Monday I got a rather delicious package from Knit Picks. I bought some pretty lace-weight that was on sale, a set of the Harmony 6-inch sock needles, and a set of those absolutely divine Harmony interchangeables. These are the most beautiful tools I have ever had the honour to work with. I don't think I'll ever have to buy another knitting needle ever again... I actually gave away my small trove of Addi's because they were, well, just unnecessary.

I popped my Etsy cherry with some rather spectacular soy simmering tarts from Ficklefaerie. I've got the Egyptian Licorice one on the go right now, and you would not believe how delicious the house smells. She's in Ontario, too; though strangely this doesn't save you anything for postage. However. I like shopping local when possible, and I love the idea of being able to support local entrepreneurs.

Finally, I was randomly flipping through my Knit Picks catalogue (endless hours of fun) when I saw a rather spectacular shawl on the cover of a book. Having just bought lace needles and laceweight merino, I was feeling more then ready to venture into lace shawls. I checked the book out online, fell in love, and bought it; it came in yesterday's mail. The book is beautifully written and photographed, and includes charts as well as written patterns.


Select "View more images" underneath the picture on the Knit Picks page to see more divine patterns in the book. It's a brilliant idea- shawls that are full circles, but with an opening so they fit the shoulders and don't require folding or endless adjustments. I love how they drape! Who wouldn't love wearing one of these.

Plus, the author is a lovely, personable woman. I dropped her a quick note to tell her I loved and bought the book. She responded immediately, offering ideas for a good beginner's shawl for me to cut my lace-making teeth on. I love having that kind of rapport with the author of a book. It's more then a book then; it's a personal experience.

I can't wait to get started on something of hers!

Actually, I couldn't wait. *grins* Although not one of Alison's creations, I cast on some lace this week; the simple but lovely Wisp from Knitty, Summer 2007. I think it's coming along nicely, and my inevitable mistakes are concealed nicely by the very nature of the beast (hairy and holey.)


Filatura Di Crosa Superior (cashmere and silk!!), a gift from DH.

What fun! I so need more hours in the day to knit.

A question for other Etsy-ers out there. What are your favourite shops and products?

FO: Sneaky Socks

For the first time I knit a pair of socks for someone whose foot I did not have access to. I had three measurements, the right colours of deliciously springy merino yarn, not a little trepidation, and a plan.


Mock Smock Socks, Knit Picks Memories yarn in Rocky Mountain Dusk

They went in the mail on Monday and the recipient got them on Tuesday. She says they fit perfectly.



They are my first kick at toe-up socks, and not the last. This is also my first short-row heel; I've always done heel flaps before.

Happy Homemaker

I love to spend time puttering in the kitchen, but have really got out of the practice of slow food lately.

I believe that most every food is good, in moderation. However, I noted an alarming tendency in my diet... too much sugar, too much coffee, too much booze. I was reacting to stress with unhealthy diet, and that it a vicious circle I want no part of... for me, I know that bad diet leads to poor self-image and depression, which leads to eating more sweets and drinking more... it needed to stop.

I have declared a one-week moratorium on sugar, coffee and alcohol, beginning last Thursday. I will extend as desired... frankly, after just four days, I feel ever so much better already. Except for the sugared vanilla syrup in my London Fog this morning (or, for the uninitiated, a non-fat vanilla Earl Grey tea Misto, if you're ordering at Starbucks), and a tiny bit of batter ingested when I, er, "accidentally" licked a wooden spoon (or three) this afternoon, I've been faithful. (Let's call that quality control, shall we?)

Yesterday just before dinner, I realized that if I wanted dessert, I'd have to whip one up. The gelato in the freezer, non-fat though it was, was out of bounds due to sugar content. Rescuing a handful of withery Mac apples, I whipped up an apple pie. I won't use shortening or excessive butter in my pie crusts, and have long become comfortable with the knowledge that my pie crusts will be... how shall I say it... robust. This was no exception. You don't need a plate to eat my pies on... they stand up for themselves. On the plus side, they're high in fiber, low in fat and good for the development of one's jaw muscles.



Today was destined to be a baking day, too. Mom Linda, who has spent her entire life hating fruitcake, loves mine. So we struck a bargain this year... when she came to visit, she'd bring apple pie (I am green with envy over her crusts, though I won't think of the high fat content requires to make them so perfectly flaky.) In exchange, I'd have a ready supply of fruitcake for her.

What with travel and all in the fall, I didn't get a chance to make my fruitcake. It seems a little odd to be doing it mid-February, but all the same, that's how I spent the afternoon. It will be perfectly marinated in brandy by the time mom arrives, a little more then a month from now.



Then, for tonight's dinner, I have a pot of Thai fish soup simmering fragrantly on the stove.


There's something supremely satisfying about healthy, delicious food, made by one's own hands. Despite the fact that I didn't spend the kind of time in the sewing room I had looked forward to, I cannot by any means call the weekend a loss.

I hope your weekend was as satisfying as mine was.

If you are lucky enough to have a long weekend, allow me to a) be green with envy, and b) live vicariously through you. Us Feds get stiffed out of Mr. McGuinty's grand new holiday. Thanks, whoever is responsible for that. Love ya.
(Family Day? When our kids are out of school but we're not off work? Call it "Babysitter's Day", 'cause that's what it is.)

Sweet Deception

DH and I celebrate Valentine's Day every single day of the year. We have a rule that we shall not celebrate the actual day... no observances whatsoever. No flowers, chocolates or cards... just carry on and love each other ridiculously as we do every day.

I was at home on Thursday when I got a call from a local florist, saying they had a delivery for DH. I assured them I'd be at home to receive it. I hung up, thinking how cute it was that DH's mommy sent him flowers.

Then I got to thinking. What if it wasn't from his mommy? What if, inconceivable as it sounds, he had a mistress and the flowers were from her? I waited impatiently all afternoon for the delivery.

Finally the doorbell, and the delivery guy asked for DH. I accepted the delivery, and rushed to the kitchen... if I had to hunt down and kill his mistress, I was running out of time before DH got home to stop me.

I ripped open the plastic and tissue paper and hunted amongst the glorious blossoms for a card.

You're probably way ahead of me. It was for me, from him, in blatant defiance of our no VDay observance rule. Although how can I possibly get mad at the man for such sweet deception?!

Today, Half-Empty. Tomorrow...?

Today, I don't so much feel like that graceful dancer, poised and ready to catch whatever falls her way. Today, I feel like that tragic clown who throws everything up and makes fumbling attempts in floppy shoes, but pretty much misses everything.

Nothing has changed in essence... it's still me, it's still the same situation. I just find I am handling it not so well today... the kazillion unknowns caught up with me and I just want to sit in front of the fireplace and drink wine until everything is all sorted out. Preferably by someone stronger and more capable than I.

I am not in the least helped by the requirement to sort through the complex layers of administration that are called upon in situations like this. I sat in on a seminar today to learn about some of the advocacy groups that are in place to help medically releasing members, and was overwhelmed by information. I have more questions tonight then I did this morning, but at least now I am armed with business cards... I have an array of contacts to employ to help me deal with all this.

And half a sock to show for the day, too. I suppose any day I can knit on government time is a good day, after all.

Knit-night tomorrow, my fellow guildies? (Brief pause to check on weather. DAMMIT!!! More snow called for tomorrow evening... (a bout of quiet sobbing ensues)... All right. Knit-night tomorrow, weather permitting?!