Knitting confession #1

Confessions
I've been under a fair amount of stress this week--between Sick Polly, Virgin Mobile Phone Hell, and just general run-of-the-mill BS like wondering if various reimbursements are ever going to arrive and allow me to have more than $20 in my checking account--which always leads to rather unusual knitting behavior. I don't always deal well with stress, which basically means I can't focus on anything and I turn into a raving banshee. Everything suffers--and I find that I begin to make peculiar craft-related decisions.

Although this may not be new behavior, I only really noticed it a couple of years ago when, during a particular rough patch, I was compelled to crochet potholders. Yes, potholders. Out of kitchen cotton. After I made potholders for our household (The Beloved hates them and refuses to use them. I don't think they're that bad.), I made some for my mother. And my aunt. And my sister. I also bought a truckload of Sugar 'n Cream and Peaches 'n Creme cotton yarn in various--mostly hideous--colorways. There are some solids in the mix, but honest to God I don't know what came over me. Ugly. Stupendously ugly. I don't even think I can knit baby hats or booties out of some of this yarn, it's so hideous. So, I put it in a box and tried to forget about it.

Lucky for me, this time my stress has decided to manifest itself in an insane desire to knit dishcloths. I don't know why--I'm not even knitting brainless garter stitch squares or Grandma's Favorite dishcloths. I am actually searching for new dishcloth patterns to try. I went so far as to join a Yahoo! group for knitting dishcloths. Tomorrow, the March Knit-a-Long (KAL) begins, and I'm a little too excited.

Currently on needles is the Ballband Dishcloth, brought to us by the fabulous Mason-Dixon ladies. (The pattern appears in their book as well--I found that out after finding the pattern online....and reading the credits at the bottom.) Naturally, I'm using yarn from my stash on this, which is a good way to get rid of some SNC in wine and midnight magic ombre. So far, I love it. The yarn doesn't even seem that hideous. Mind you, I don't plan on redecorating my kitchen around it, but I'm quite pleased with the way it's turning out. The Beloved says that it looks "intricate" and that it is too fancy to use in the kitchen. He is learning--this is a great improvement from "why do you want to knit dishcloths when we can buy them for under a dollar at the supermarket?"

I am a little self-conscious about what I feel to be slightly weird shifts of focus in my knitting, but perhaps I should just chill out. In fact, it seems to be going around. Yesterday, the Yarn Harlot wrote that she had put aside her current project in favor of garter stitch in plain wool on big needles: "the knitting equivalent of oatmeal." February and early March can be particularly ugly as the snow turns to gray slush and refreezes and we all wait in anticipation of spring. Whether dishcloths, baby blankets, garter stitch rectangles or socks, many of us need something to help get us back to a more comfortable and focused place where we create because we want to--not just because we need to.

Kitty update

Kitties
Last night I mentioned a bit of an emergency with one of our babies and a late evening jaunt to the vet. A brand new vet, mind you. Fortunately, the new vet is right up the street (location couldn't be better) and seems to be very nice. Plus, he could see my poor traumatized baby at 7:40 last night instead of making us wait till the morning.

Note: Kitty diarrhea is not fun.

She's doing much better this morning. The vet shaved her backside (the indignity!), gave her a shot, gave The Beloved and I a $25 salve to rub on her sore backside twice a day and a weeks' worth of amoxicillin. We get to go back in a week for a checkup and another shot. But, man--what an evening. And what a way to start the morning! This kitty is a big girl. According to the scale last night, she is 18 pounds of cat. She insists she's just big-boned.

The Beloved and I have four cats. Naturally, the sick one is my favorite. Now, I know you're not supposed to have favorites, and I would beg you to keep my dirty little secret, but she already knows. Polly came to live with us a couple of years ago with the hope that she would befriend our other female cat, Piper, who was being constantly tortured by our two male cats. I went to the shelter looking for a smallish, female, short-haired kitten. I came home with a three-year-old long-haired Norwegian Forest/Maine Coon cross. I couldn't help it! She was gorgeous--with her long hair (Well, sort of--she was in really rough shape when she came to the shelter so they shaved her. Half of her. Then the clippers burned out.), and her big, green eyes, and her double paws! How could anyone say no to that?

Her paperwork from the shelter said that she was ambivalent as far as humans were concerned and that she got along with other cats. This was all well and good because we had plenty of cat companionship, and her job was to be a friend to our scaredy-cat. However, when I got her home the first night, she performed some preliminary explorations, jumped up onto the couch behind The Beloved, and wrapped her front paws around him in a big kitty hug. Ambivalent, eh? She has slept on our bed every night since. And she has adopted The Beloved as her kitten--she grooms him frequently because obviously he is not grooming himself adequately.

She came to us with the name "Tiger Lilly," which was too unwieldy for us, so one of our first tasks was to find a new name for her. The shelter seemed to believe she knew her name (we didn't get much response to Tiger Lilly and felt that perhaps a new name would give her a fresh start out of kitty jail), so we agreed to give her a name ending with an "ee" sound. Unfortunately, that meant no Norwegian deity names. After an evening of discussion we ended up with Polly--which I think is short for Polydactyl and The Beloved thinks is short for "Miss Polly Prissy-Pants." It works. She is most definitely a Polly.

More importantly, she is my Polly, and I hope that she is on the mend and enjoying her day of rest in my closet, which is where I left her this morning when I had to take off my nursemaid hat and go to work.

What flower are you?

quiz


I am a
Daffodil


What Flower
Are You?



Unfortunately, I'm not feeling very sunny right now. One of the kitties is sick, so we are getting ready to go to the vet. Hopefully, The Beloved will get home from work soon. I wouldn't want him to miss any of the fun.

So, what sort of flower are you?

Virgin Mobile

camera
Generally speaking, I don't like the telephone. If I'm going to interact with someone, I prefer to do it face-to-face or in writing. I don't know why, but I've always been this way.

E-mail is a godsend. I can communicate quickly and effectively, and have a record of the conversation or information conveyed so if anyone needs to refer to what I said last week about printer cartridges at the library, it's right there. Perfect. Beautiful. Not so with phone conversations, which take place and are forgotten.

Anyway. Last week, I mentioned problems with my phone--a Kyocera Slider Sonic powered by my good friends at Virgin Mobile. Theoretically, this phone is great. Not only can I program The Beloved's number at work so that I can call and ask him to pick up orange juice on his way home, but I can also take pictures with this crazy thing. And listen to MP3s on it. This is way more than I need, but, hey, a girl has got to have her toys, right? And, while I wait for my paycheck to come in so that I can justify even looking at digital cameras, I figured I could experiment with the photo and video capabilities I paid for when I bought the toy. Er. Phone.

So I took pictures. Of the cats. Of The Beloved. Of my knitting projects. Of myself. And there they sit. On my phone. Because I can't upload the foolish pictures to Virgin Mobile's "My Pix" wonderland, or e-mail them to myself, or transfer them using a USB cable or the flash card. Now, I'm perfectly willing to admit that some things that are intuitive to everyone else in the free world seem to be to be written in Coptic or some other foreign and obscure language. So I gave the phone to The Beloved. He's a software engineer. He couldn't make the foolish thing work either. We decided there was one thing left to do before calling the help line--RTFM. So I did. It was painful. And not helpful at all.

Last week I think I glossed over my visit to Virgin Mobile's website and its not-entirely-helpful help page which resulted in my e-mailing customer service with a query (It's broken. Fix it. Please.) and their response (Bummer. Call us.). So this morning I had to pick up the phone--the land line, naturally, in case I had to try anything with the phone in question. My experience largely confirmed my avoidance of the infernal piece of communication equipment.

As with many customer service lines, this was fraught with menus. My menu guide was "Simone." She sounded young and hip, which fits VM's image wonderfully, but was not really what I wanted this morning before my second cup of coffee. What I wanted was someone knowledgeable who could maybe help me. After 4 minutes and 23 seconds on hold, I got Myron--who almost fit the bill.

Myron sounded like he was overwhelmed by screens--which may be endemic in his job as mobile phone troubleshooter, but almost sounded as though it was caused by a switchover to Windows Vista. Poor guy. The Beloved has dealt with that at home and it hasn't been any fun at all. But back to Myron. He walked me through all sorts of photo-sending troubleshooting tips--all of which I had already tried. He put me on hold (6 minutes and 17 seconds) while he asked his boss for what I can only assume was the "secret knowledge" not yet passed on in the help files. Myron's boss said it sounded like a software glitch and that since my phone is less than a year old and still under warranty, the best thing to do would be to exchange it for one that works. Well, OK. I'm not thrilled with that answer, but it works. The end result is that I will have a phone with all the capabilities for which I shelled out the big bucks back in July.

So they transferred me to Returns. But Returns was busy. So I hung out on hold with Simone for 10 minutes and 48 seconds. Not only was Simone not helpful--she was downright irritating. Every 45 seconds or so, she would interrupt the music (which really wasn't to my liking, but it was better than listening to her recorded voice) to let me know that someone was still on the other line, but that I should hold on 'cause someone would be here soon. I really wanted to hang up--I don't like waiting on hold. But, I wanted to follow Myron's instructions in order to cross this problem off of my to do list. He told me to wait and talk to someone in Returns and so that was what I was going to do.

Someone finally picked up. I don't think he gave me his name--or if he did, he mumbled it. I'm just going to call him Nimrod. Anyway. Nimrod asked for my name, phone number and secret key. He then decided to do his own round of troubleshooting. He was not impressed that I had done all of these things a) on my own and b) with Myron. In fact, the tone of his voice suggested that he thought I was not only a dumb girl, but an exceptionally dumb girl. Whatever. I ran through everything again. Still cannot upload pictures. It's like they're stuck in the Phantom Zone or something. Nimrod then asked me to reprogram my phone and then just leave it alone for four hours while it resets. He must have told me four times not to touch it while it's recalibrating. Just leave it alone. It's sitting on the corner of my desk. I hope looking at it occasionally is OK.

He grudgingly allowed that I could call back if it still didn't work (I didn't have the heart to tell him that resetting the phone was one of the first things I tried before calling Myron. Why burst his little bubble like that?). But that I should try the help page first. I hung up before Simone could come back to add any more enjoyment to my phone experience.

This made for a really long morning. And a rather unhappy customer (me)--particularly if in four hours I find that my phone still doesn't work and I've got to call them again in order to maybe have someone in the Returns department listen to me. I'm thinking, if wax tablets and styli worked for Julius Caesar, maybe they can work for me, too.

100 Things

misc.
I still don't have access to a camera. But--believe it or not--I did actually manage to stop whingeing long enough to e-mail Virgin Mobile concerning my inability to upload photos taken with my phone. Their response? It's probably something easy to fix, but I have to call them. Yes, they have 24/7 customer service, but......

So, until I can rebuild my energy level enough to pick up the phone and call them, I need to do something text-based. Many of the blogs I read feature this "100 Things" thing, so I'll jump on the bandwagon. What the hell. Seems a good enough way to introduce myself.

1. I am the oldest of three children.

2. My siblings and I were all born in hospitals that are no longer hospitals. The building where I was born is now City Hall. The former nursery is now the Mayor's office. The building where my siblings were born now houses a community technical college.

3. My parents are both professional musicians. My mother is the music director at the church we both attend, and she has taught music at all levels--from primary school through college. My father is the instrumental music teacher for a small school system in NH. He was a member of the Air Force Band for over twenty years and was the executive director of the NH Philharmonic before he returned to teaching....which is what he did before joining the military.

4. Everyone in my family sings. We joke about my dad's abilities, but he still does it. In fact, when my youngest sibling was born, my mother told people it was because she needed another voice part.

5. I have been paid to sing. It was the coolest thing, like, ever. I would love to sing in a paid choir someday. Or be hired as the cantor at a church.

6. I have sung in church choirs longer than I can remember. I will likely sing in church choirs until I die.

7. When I was in the fourth grade, I was cast in the children's chorus for a production of Evita. Also a member of that cast was the first boy I was ever in love with. I wasn't in love with him at the time--he was a nice boy and all, but I could take him or leave him.

8. I met him again years later when we were both working at the same grocery store over the summer. That's when I fell in love with him.

9. So I tried to set him up with my best friend. (Mature, eh?)

10. Later, we discovered that we had, in fact, lived on the same street as very small children--I think his family moved away when we were five or six.

11. My husband and I recently moved back to my hometown where we live four blocks away from this same guy and his wife. Fortunately we haven't run into him since we've been back, but our kids would all go to the same grammar school.

12. I think this is all a little bit weird and that it may "mean something" in a Close Encounters kind of way. Or it could be just a huge coincidence.

13. My husband and I live in my grandparents' house. I mean, it's our house, now--we bought it after my grandfather died. But it's the house my grandparents lived in my whole life.

14. It's pretty cool to think about raising my kids in a house that's "been in our family," even if only since the 1960s. Sometimes I feel like my grandparents are still around, keeping an eye on us--but not in a creepy way.

15. One wall of our living room is taken up with a built in bookshelf. It's filled to overflowing.

16. The shelving height, however, is irregular. This means I can't shelve things categorically or alphabetically by author, so it's very much a mish-mash. I pretend this doesn't bother me, but I often wake up in the middle of the night thinking about it.

17. No one in my family was surprised when I decided to become a librarian. Except for me.

18. My personal library is rather eclectic.

19. A college roommate once asked me if there was anything I didn't like to read. At the time, I said "math textbooks?" Since then, I've actually come across a couple of interesting ones, so I guess there really is nothing that I won't read.

20. My grandmother taught me how to knit about twenty years ago. But it didn't take. I picked up needles on my own when I was in high school, but, aside from producing a couple of sorry looking hats, didn't think much of it. Tried again maybe two or three years ago and haven't looked back! I guess that's what they mean about the third time being a charm.

21. My grandmother also taught me how to crochet. I did this pretty regularly during my childhood and early teen years, but don't enjoy it so much now. I only crochet if I feel like making potholders or adding borders to blankets or other knit objects. Although, someone recently sent me some links on amigurumi, so I may have to bring the hooks out of hiding....

22. I worked on my first political campaign when I was 13 years old. My first task? Being sent to buy $100 worth of doughnuts for the candidate's first stop the day he declared his candidacy.

23. I also spent that summer running around in a pink elephant costume on behalf of that candidate.

24. My parents brought me to the election night party the night of the congressional primary. I came directly from a cross-country meet. Between the physical exertion of the race and my nerves, I was sick for much of the evening. The election was so close that it resulted in an automatic recount. When I found out my candidate won, I cried. And went back to work for the election. Which he won.

25. My mother and I were invited to Washington, DC to see him sworn in. We got up at three in the morning, drove to Boston to take an early shuttle to DC, spent the day in the nation's capitol, got on a late plane back to Boston and came home around midnight. I went to school the next day.

26. Working that campaign was a fabulous experience. It taught me, at a very early age, that one person really can make a difference. In spite of all of my frustrations with the current administration, I still believe very deeply in "government of the people, by the people and for the people." (Thank you, Bill.)

27. I majored in Political Science in college.

28. The Beloved also majored in Political Science. At the same college. Nine years earlier. We had some of the same professors.

29. One of whom came to our wedding.

30. After graduation from college, I lived in Tokyo for over a year.

31. I taught conversational English for the Berlitz Language School. My hours were crazy, but I earned a good deal of money and learned a lot about myself in the process.

32. I also learned that I'm not really a city person. I love to visit the city, but it's nice to be able to leave it, as well. Tokyo was big and dirty and crowded and smelled bad. Plus, everything you've heard about packing trains and the roving hands of Japanese Salarymen is entirely true.

33. In spite of being big, dirty, crowded and smelly, Tokyo is pretty freakin' cool. I would love for the Beloved to see it someday.

34. I'd also like to see if my favorite restaurants are still there.

35. But I don't want to take the train at rush hour. Ever. Again.

36. I've taken the train from Seattle to Boston with stopovers in Chicago and Washington, DC. This was one of the best vacations ever.

37. I've stayed at the Ritz Carlton in Pentagon City. It was cheaper to stay there than at the Holiday Inn. They made fabulous crab cakes.

38. The Beloved and I met shortly after my return from Japan. My initial reaction was that he was an interesting guy, but not what I was looking for. It took a year before I agreed to go on a date with him.

39. On our first date, we went to the Spring Hill Tavern. I had intended to go only for drinks, but he bought dinner. I also insisted that it wasn't a date.

40. The bill from that non-date was something to behold. The Beloved always shakes his head and says, "you sure had balls" whenever we reminisce about that evening.

41. We've never been back to the Spring Hill Tavern.

42. For our second date, The Beloved invited me to his place where he made paella. We drank a lot of wine. And watched a movie. That one was actually a date.

43. I think I knew he was "the one" when he told me to bring my cat with me when I spent the night at his place. He didn't want her to get lonely in my apartment without me.

44. I think he knew I was "the one" somewhere around the first or second time we met.

45. This makes me feel just a little slow.

46. We were only together for four months when I agreed to marry him. Sometimes you just know. I think this surprised a lot of people.

47. I actually knew I wanted to marry him sooner than that. He bought me a ring the first time I met his mother and his sister. It's a lab-created opal set in sterling silver. The sales person at the jeweler called it a "Cinderella Ring"--because of all the detail work on the band, it can't be sized. It fit me perfectly, so The Beloved said I had to have it. In many ways, it's more important to me than my actual engagement ring, because I never would have accepted the gift if I didn't intend to "keep" him.

48. Our rehearsal dinner was at The Rosa. This was also the restaurant where my parents ate the night before I was born. My mother says that's why I like spaghetti so much.

49. For a long time, spaghetti was all I would cook.

50. My repertoire has broadened considerably. Being married to a guy who really likes to cook helps.

51. The first time I met The Beloved was at a dinner party he threw. A mutual friend invited me to even out the numbers. He made Peking Duck and Crab Rangoon. It was fabulous.

52. A couple of times a year, he'll make Peking Duck for me as a surprise.

53. I love jewelry. Rings, necklaces, earrings, whatever. If it's shiny, I want it.

54. I wonder if I was a raccoon in a past life?

55. My husband does not like jewelry and is baffled by my fascination with it.

56. I have my nostril pierced.

57. I have five piercings in my ears.

58. I have a tattoo of an ouroboros. I designed it myself--which is funny because I don't consider myself much of an artist. If I ever get another tattoo, I think I will be more comfortable in working with the tattoo artist in designing the artwork. With the first one, I really didn't know what I was doing, and didn't know that you should really trust your tattoo artist if you've found a reputable one. Nonetheless, I'm happy with it. It means a lot.

59. I got my tattoo on the same day I interviewed for a job. I showed up at the tattoo studio in a suit and heels with two of my girlfriends in tow. I got the job.

60. The Beloved was unimpressed. With the tattoo--he was happy about the job.

61. I had the nostril piercing done after I had worked for a year as director of a religious resource center. I was essentially a church librarian, and started to feel rather old and boring. I had contemplated the piercing for years, but was always rather wishy-washy about actually having it done. I love it. The Beloved was unimpressed.

62. It took him about two hours to notice it.

63. I once dyed my hair pink. It was different.

64. My hair is going prematurely gray. I now have a stripe like Rogue of X-Men fame.

65. I found my first gray hair when I was sixteen--on the night of my first date.

66. I find it extremely unfair that I have to worry about acne and gray hair.

67. After watching a documentary about the SuicideGirls, I wanted to be one. The Beloved thought that was cool, until he realized that other people would get to see me naked. He doesn't think it's that cool anymore.

68. I still think about it from time to time, though.

69. I love Lima Beans.

70. And Brussels Sprouts.

71. I think Tuna Noodle Casserole should be banned.

72. I love baseball, but prefer listening to it on the radio to watching it on TV. Going to the park is best of all.

73. I went to several professional baseball games when I lived in Tokyo. We saw the Nippon Ham Fighters play at the Tokyo Dome and we saw the Seibu Lions.

74. I saw Daisuke Matsuzaka pitch during his first season with the Lions.

75. I'm looking forward to watching him pitch for the Boston Red Sox.

76. The Beloved does not like baseball. He thinks it's boring.

77. He does, however, like musicals. And so do I.

78. I love opera.

79. I spent spring semester of my junior year in college in London. It was great.

80. I went to the British Museum almost every week during my stay. The Rosetta Stone is incredibly cool.

81. I was also a regular visitor to the National Gallery and the National Portrait Gallery.

82. I would go to museums every week if I could. Even now.

83. I lived in The Regent's Park and went running with friends every morning at 7:00. We called ourselves the Forrest Gump Running Club because "we just felt like running."

84. I've thought about pursuing an advanced degree at Oxford or Cambridge. It would be very difficult to uproot The Beloved like that, though.

85. If we could move to another country for a few years, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

86. But I wouldn't sell our house. I think our home will always be here.

87. I've never seen American Idol.

88. Or Survivor.

89. Or Grey's Anatomy.

90. Sometimes I think this means I'm horribly out of touch. But in all honesty, I'd rather read a book.

91. I'm a coffee drinker. Black. Occasionally, I'll buy some sort of specialty-mocha-latte-concoction, but generally speaking I prefer plain black coffee.

92. I won't go to Starbucks if I can help it. I'd rather visit an independent, locally owned coffee shop.

93. I also prefer independent bookstores. But sometimes Barnes & Noble is so convenient.

94. And I am a great fan of independently owned and operated restaurants.

95. My favorite color is yellow. But I can't wear it--it makes me look sickly.

96. I carried yellow roses at my wedding. My mother-in-law was appalled when I made this decision.

97. The flowers were beautiful--so what if they signify friendship? The Beloved is, after all, my best friend.

98. I am a card-carrying member of the ACLU. And of the ALA. The Beloved believes this will keep us on a watch list forever.

99. I can easily spend hours browsing around Wikipedia without getting bored.

100. If I could be anyone in the world, honestly, I would be me. It's taken a long time for me to be that comfortable with myself.

Still no pictures...

afghans
...and it's really starting to tick me off! I tried to use the phone last night but it decided to be difficult. The pictures are not being saved to the flash chip (which makes me wonder where they are being saved to?), and I can't upload them through Virgin's wondersite. And Virgin's help page is not terribly helpful.

I suppose I could e-mail them with my tale of woe, but right now whingeing is a bit more enjoyable. Poor me.

In searching the house last night I discovered that my sister has an ancient camera--the quality will probably be comparable to pictures taken with the phone. All I need is a scandisk and 4 double-A batteries. But, right now, that also seems like more work than I care to deal with. Maybe my mother will let me borrow her camera once a week until I can convince the Beloved that this really is an important thing for us to possess.... Hmm....

So, right now, you'll just have to settle for me telling you about my knitting projects. I know. Not nearly as fun. But, well, life is full of disappointments.

Last night I posted a list of projects currently "On Needles." Looking at that list, you might think that I like to knit blankets. Well, sometimes I do. They make good meeting knitting. All you need to do is pick a straightforward pattern and you're good to go while pretending to listen to your colleagues drone on endlessly about something that is probably important, but could better be expressed in a nice, succinct memo. Unfortunately, they eventually become a little too cumbersome to drag around. Which is the case of the Moss Stitch Baby Blanket. It's maybe a bit more than halfway done, and I still have to make some decisions concerning edging or binding because, well, the blanket looks boring. The yarn is pretty and looks really nice with the moss stitch, but, well, it's a big square of moss stitch. So, it sits in a bag where I poke at it every now and again. In theory, meeting knitting should also make good TV knitting (which, in fact, it does), but I have a very tiny brain and get distracted easily.

Blanket number two (the Blue Lagoon Blanket) was picked out by the Beloved. His mother gave me a gift certificate to AC Moore for Christmas, and so, among other things, I allowed the Beloved to choose yarn and a (free) pattern so that I could make a blanket intended for future progeny. He liked this particular one, I figured it would be easy, and the colors were pretty, so on we went. And the colors are pretty. But it's a blanket done entirely in garter stitch. So I get bored quickly. And, if that wasn't enough, the pretty color changes happen frequently. Like every four to six rows. Which means the knitting is boring and I have 5,000 ends to weave in. I've decided to weave the ends in as I go along--which means every time I finish a set of the color-change pattern, I stop and weave in the bloody ends. In theory, this is a wonderful idea. But I'm now at a point (about halfway through the blanket, I'd guess) where I need to weave in ends and I just don't want to do it! It hurts! So this also sits in a bag, next to the Moss Stitch Blanket, where it whimpers morosely. After all, it hasn't done anything to deserve such treatment from me.

This brings us to blanket number three. The First Cable Afghan. Now, I've done cables before. I don't need to do the First Cable Afghan to bring me up to speed. But. This summer I promised my friend, RA, that I would make him an afghan. And I allowed him to choose the yarn. He chose this in Dark Rose and Forest Shades. Now, because I was crazy-busy with school this fall, I didn't even start on this afghan until after Christmas. But, due to my experiences with Moss Stitch Baby Blanket and Blue Lagoon Blanket, I thought I would pick something a little more...piquant. But it had to work with this soft, nubby yarn. First Cable Afghan is designed for use with Lion Brand Homespun, which is very similar in weight and texture to the yarn RA chose. Unfortunately, I hate how it's coming out. Like, I really, really hate it. Even more unfortunate--I can't decide if it really does look horrible, or if I'm just being difficult. I'll try to get a shot of it this weekend so that you can tell me what you think. I'm thinking I need to frog the foolish thing and try again--I can't decide, though, if I should try it on larger needles (I do tend to knit a little tight), or if I should just give up the ghost and find another pattern.

The last blanket was cast on this weekend. The Beloved was very unhappy that RA was getting a blankie, but HE, the love of my life, was not. As Monday was a holiday and I wasn't doing anything anyway, I cast on for a modified feather-and-fan throw. The pattern comes from Knitting for Peace by Betty Christiansen. The pattern is simple enough that it can travel with me for now while it's small, but complicated enough that I really need to pay attention on the rows that aren't straight knit or purl. It should keep me occupied at least until it's too big to come to work with me any more.

The problem with all of the blankets I'm knitting right now is that, aside from failing to hold my attention till the end of the project, they are all made with cheap yarn. Now, for baby blankets, acrylic really isn't that bad because it's hardy and you can put it in the washer and dryer. The same holds true for afghans. For people who say things like, if you're going to put that much time and effort into something, you want to use a material that will last and be heirloom quality, I have this to say: Beloved and I have an afghan knit by my mother maybe thirty years ago. We have a picture somewhere of me, age three or four, wrapped up in this same afghan. It's cheapy acrylic yarn. And it's not pilling or showing any sign of giving up the ghost.

However. I really like yarn made of natural fiber. I also like expensive yarn. The Beloved neither likes nor understands my desire and need to possess fancy, expensive yarn. (This is why his blankie is being made of the finest Red Heart Acrylic. Shade: Claret.) This brings us to the Airy Scarf. I'm knitting this in the recommended Rowan Kidsilk Haze. It's actually the second one I've done, making it an almost economic project as the Kidsilk Haze is around $13 a ball and I can get two scarves out of it. I'm nearly finished with it (are you noticing a pattern here? I'm not.), but put it aside last week to knit a couple of small things for my sister's birthday (she got a handknit bag, a handknit washcloth, and a bar of all-natural soap from The Mustard Seed). However, we're going to see my Mother-In-Law to celebrate her birthday this weekend, so the plan is to finish Airy Scarf and block her on Friday night, or Saturday at the latest, so that she's good to go on Sunday.

Wow. I'm tired just thinking about all the unfinished knitting I have. So much to do. So, why do I have to leave this all to go to work again? Maybe we'll have a meeting today....

Excuse me while I get on my high horse...

ECUSA
So, last week all of the primates from the far reaches of the Anglican Communion met in Tanzania. Really. They're called primates. I can't make this stuff up. Anyway, for many years, the Episcopal Church, USA has been, well, the Anglican problem-child according to many of our more conservative brothers and sisters. This all took off in 2003 when we here in New Hampshire had the audacity to elect the Rev. Gene Robinson Bishop of our diocese. I feel as though I can take personal credit for this as I was a voting member of that election. It was pretty freakin' cool.

An Aside: As I say this, please let me make it abundantly clear that I don't believe the Episcopalians of New Hampshire were trying to "stick it" to the rest of the Anglican Communion by electing Bishop Robinson. He is a good man and he was a good candidate and we simply felt that he was the best candidate taken from a list of fabulous candidates. In all honesty, his sexual preference really didn't come into play at all. At least not for me.

So, what was I talking about? OH-Tanzania. Where the primates got together for their big meeting. And made some decisions. As Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori said in her Reflections on the Primates Meeting: "What is being asked of both parties is a season of fasting - from authorizing rites for blessing same-sex unions and consecrating bishops in such unions on the one hand, and from transgressing traditional diocesan boundaries on the other." It sounds so diplomatic in some ways....but I wonder.....

It sounds to me like we in ECUSA are being asked to put aside part of our commitment to radical hospitality by denying our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters opportunities based solely on their sexuality, whereas our conservative brethren are being asked to keep their bishops on their own turf and let us sort out our set of issues. This does not seem fair and equitable to me. The Great Commandment tells us that You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength...You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these. Unless, of course, your neighbor is gay. Hmm. I don't think so.

As for it being the lifestyle, ask me what I think is better--for two members of the same sex to be in a healthy, committed relationship with one another, or for two members of the same sex to lie about who they are and then run around and cheat on the wives they took for propriety's sake when they'd really rather be with each other. Or, ask me what I think was happening at the time the laws and proscriptions regarding homosexuality that appear in the bible were being written down and if we're even talking about the same think in 21st century America. Or, even better, ask me how I feel about casting the first stone. Of course, nobody's asking me--which may be for the best.

Do I want the Episcopal Church USA to leave the Anglican Communion? No way. Do I think that both sides need to take a step back and think about how the other party feels? You bet. Do I think that everyone is going to have to give a little--or maybe even a lot--for this family to hold together. Absolutely. Is that what I see coming out of Tanzania? Nope, not really.

Another Aside: Am I impartial and the right person to answer that question? Not on your life.

I teach Sunday school using something called the Godly Play Method, and before we begin a lesson, we need to take some time "to get ready." This is particularly important when working with three- to five-year-olds if you want them to sit still through a story, but is also really important for everyone. Often, adults don't know how to get ready (or, maybe they just forgot). So, what I would really like to see is this: I want everyone to take a deep breath (I'm doing it right now). And think about how they feel. And then think about the other side (because there always is another side), and how they might feel. And then just take those feelings and hold them for a while. And then, maybe, we'll be ready.

Because, really, what we're being asked to do is cast the first stone.

Hello World!

misc.
And Saiquoi earns a C+ for creativity on that title--alas, that is the way things work from time to time.

A few years ago, I learned how to knit. And then I started graduate school. This meant, of course, that I had limited time (and funds) for things I actually enjoyed (like knitting). So, practice and productivity waned while I decided to live the life of an intellectual. Or, more accurately, while I pursued a degree that had the potential to push me into the realm of earning a "living wage" while still working in my chosen field. In December, I finally finished my MLIS at the University of Rhode Island (and there was much rejoicing). Which meant, suddenly, I had all this time...I could read what I wanted, knit when I wanted, write what I wanted. The freedom was frightening and needed to be channeled. The Beloved and I discovered this last month when we found I had knit fingerless gloves enough to supply everyone who lived in our voting ward. Whoops.

After encouragement from Libby and much procrastination, I decided what the hell. Might as well chronicle my (mis)adventures for the amusement of others. The Beloved pointed out that one of my main procrastination points (lack of digital camera) was actually invalid--there is a camera on my phone. Unfortunately, that camera sucks, so there will be very few pictures until I can manage to work up enough motivation to rectify the situation.

Anyway. This was posted on the aforementioned Libby's blog this weekend. I'm reposting it so that she can answer if she wants. If anyone else wants to answer, good show! And if you repost it, I'll come by your blog and answer as well. Cheers!

2.Where did we meet:

3.Take a stab at my middle name:

4.How long have you known me:

5.When is the last time that we saw each other:

6.Have you been to my house:

7.What was your first impression of upon meeting me/seeing me:

8.What's one of my favorite things to do:

9.Am I funny:

10.What's my favorite type of music:

11.Can I sing?:

12.What is the best feature about me:

13.Am I shy or outgoing:

14.Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules:

15.Do I have any special talents:

16.Would you call me preppy, average, sporty, punk, hippie, glam, nerdy, snobby, or something else (what):

17.I'm hot? Am I not? Go ahead, you can say ... :

19.Have you ever hugged me:

20.Kissed me?

21.What is my favorite food:

23.Am I dating anyone:

24.If there was one good nickname for me, what would it be:

25.What's your favorite memory of me:

26.Who do I like right now:

27.What is my worst habit:

28.If you and I were stranded on a desert island, what is the one thing I would bring?

29.Are we friends:

31.Do I believe in God?

32.Am I family oriented?

33.Who is my best friend?

34.What kind of car do I drive?

35.Will you repost this so I can do it?

By-the-by, I know that question 1 is missing. It wasn't anything I wanted to post and make public at this point, so I removed it. You didn't want to answer that one anyway.

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