Hey, Look What I Found!

baby things
My camera! Woo-hoo!

Now I can show you pictures of my baby socks and the finished Calamity socks. Can you stand it?

babyrr4

Baby Socks
Pattern: A variation on the Magic 28 theme (I think they were Magic 36)
Yarn: Yarn Pirate 100% merino sock yarn in the "Rum Runner" colorway
Purchased from: Yarn Pirate "Booty Club"
Needles: Susan Bates US size 1/2.25 mm (5-7 inch DPNs)


Cute, aren't they? But a little small for me. These fit a bit better:

calamity

Plain vanilla with a side of picot socks
Yarn: Yarn Pirate BFL sock yarn in the "Calamity" colorway
Purchased from" Yarn Pirate "Booty Club"
Needles: Knitpicks US size 1.5/2.5 mm (5-6 inch DPNs)


The lighting is crappy. I apologize. I miss sunshine, but am too lazy to use the photo editor right now...

calamleg

calamtoes


I like them. They're cute. They took forever to finish, but I blame the Alpaca Silk Shrug. No pictures of that one, yet. I'm on the ruffle, which means it is almost done. The ruffle is supposed to be six inches long--I've knit three. It's killing me. The 5x5 ribbing may be more boring than the miles of stockinette. But I try to keep going because the end really is in sight.

I also started a pair of socks out of the "Butternut" colorway. I'm not thrilled with them. I like the colors and I like the texture of the yarn, which is a merino/tencel blend, but the colors are pooling funny. Now, I'm generally not bothered much by pooling, but, thus far, my sock just looks goofy. I can't get a picture that even approximates--I'll need sun for that one. I'm not ready to pull it out yet, because I can't be sure that it won't get better. I can live with a goofy looking cuff it it evens out eventually, but... (whine).

In other knitting news, I got a Ravelry request to use one of the photos of my Epiphany mittens (this one, I think) as a featured photo for the pattern I used (Basic Pattern for Children's Mittens by Elizabeth Durand). Neato, eh?

Otherwise, there isn't much else to report. Work is, well, work. I had my 90-day review last week, and they're letting me stay, so, that's good. They're happy with my work; I just need to get faster. Which I already knew, so...

The Beloved and I are refinancing the house. I'm sure it will be fine and it's the right thing to do and all, but just thinking about the large amounts of money involved just makes me feel ill. When the papers are all signed and its over, I'll be fine, but until that point I think I'll just hide under the bed or something.

PFC Sibling is still in medic training in Texas. She called last week to report that her orders now state that she will be shipping out for Iraq in June. It's not a surprise, but it's still a rather jarring reality. Last Sunday I was at a church brunch and someone asked about my sister. Another woman sitting with us said in shock and horror, "well how old is she?" My sister will be 28 next week. "Oh, well that's OK. At least she's not a baby."

Excuse me? Fortunately for everyone, I had a seven-year-old sitting next to me so I couldn't tell her what I really thought. Like it's somehow less horrible for my sister to go to war since she's "older." Like if her transport gets blown up on the way to some tent city hospital it'll be OK. You know, they should serve liquor at church brunches.

On that happy note, it is frickin' freezing here. I need to see why my fire isn't warming up the room. Maybe I should put my new socks on?

What ONE can do

church
Busy weekend. It may even have bolstered me out of my low-energy-I-don't-feel-like-writing-and-you-can't-make-me mood. Maybe. There was so much....stuff....that I think I'm still processing, and I may be processing for quite some time. You're just dying to process with me, aren't you?

On Saturday I opted out of my graduation. It was a hard decision, but arrived at after much soul-searching and an inability to locate my student ID coupled with a phone call to the URI Bookstore where they emphatically refused to sell me a cap, gown and hood without the piece of plastic. After much grousing, I was relatively pleased with my decision upon awakening Saturday morning to find that the weather flat out sucked. The drive to Kingston is loathsome on a good day--it is nearly unbearable in the rain. So, I followed through with "Plan B," or attendance at the NH Episcopal Diocesan Event, One Hope, One Heart, One World: Keeping the Promise. In all honesty, I was dreading this. Since leaving my job at the Resource Center, and then returning in a "consulting" capacity, I really haven't felt much like "networking." Originally, I thought if I heard, "I'm just so very sorry..." without an accompanying action plan one more time I would be driven to radically unChristian acts. Eventually, it got to the point where I just wanted to disconnect and disassociate and didn't want anyone to know where I had gone or what I was doing. Healthy, huh? This was compounded by my recent ambivalence toward the subject at hand: the day focused on the Millennium Development Goals, which are noble and laudable and very important--and I just wasn't in the mood.

If you're not familiar with the MDGs, here they are for your edification:
  1. Eradicate extreme hunger and poverty
  2. Achieve universal primary education
  3. Promote gender equality and empower women
  4. Reduce child mortality
  5. Improve maternal health
  6. Combat HIV/AIDS, malaria and other diseases
  7. Ensure environmental sustainability
  8. Develop a global partnership for development
See? Noble. Laudable. Extremely important. And precisely the subject to which you all want to devote a Saturday in May. Right? Particularly when the day features a U2charist. That'll get you out of bed in the morning, right?

I should explain myself a little bit here: I grew up in the church. My mother is an organist. I have always sung in the church. The only reason I can tell you anything at all about my faith is because I enjoyed singing the hymns--OK, that might be a little bit of an exaggeration, but seriously. It is one of the few venues in which people are routinely exposed to live music. It's important on so many levels, and really not the point of my post (I'll pontificate on the importance of church music another day, never fear), so I'll just end with the fact that the idea of church accompanied by CD--any CD--makes me want to retch. Violently.

A U2charist is a mass accompanied by CD. Instead of standard hymns or psalms, the service is accompanied by selections from the U2 canon. Now, I really like U2. I respect Bono and his work on behalf of the Millennium Development Goals. The use of this type of service in this venue made perfect sense. However, the mere thought of having to attend this service kind of made my skin crawl. I was hoping, as is often the case with church-sponsored events, that Eucharist would be the capstone--right at the end, and skipped by everyone who wanted to hightail it home, possibly salvaging at least some of their weekend.

I was wrong. This was our "opening act," so to say. And, in spite of myself, I actually almost enjoyed it. In context. It is an interesting approach to "doing church," and, if you're familiar with the lyrics to many a U2 song, you will note that they make appropriate points and connections. Sometimes you need to squint a bit to make it work, but it can all come together. And, more or less, it did. I say more or less because the average age of attendant at this sort of event makes one wonder if they are at an AARP convention. That's me--bucking the demographic. While many of the participants appeared to enjoy themselves, the man in the ascot in front of me shook his head morosely for the duration.

But here's the Rev. Canon Tim clapping away and enjoying himself immensely:

Please forgive my photos. Lighting was bad in the auditorium/sanctuary and this was just as good as it was gonna get.

The altar party preparing for communion. If you look really close, you can see the lyrics to Sunday, Bloody Sunday on the screen behind them. A different sort of offertory hymn...

So, not nearly as odious as I feared it would be. Not something I would choose to do every week, but moving and different nonetheless.

We were also graced with an excellent speaker during the sermon. The Rev. Irene Monroe , a Ford Fellow and Doctoral Candidate at Harvard Divinity School spoke to us about our responsibilities to act for change--about being a thermostat instead of a thermometer--about changing the temperature, even if that means causing trouble. And about remembering actions, no matter how small they seem, may lead ultimately to the change you seek: "After all, if Rosa Parks had not sat down on that segregated bus, Martin Luther King, Jr. would not have had the opportunity to stand up." I cannot do her justice here, but if you ever get the opportunity to hear her speak or read her work, I highly recommend it.

We heard from Cynthia Grissom Efird, the Ambassador to the Republic of Angola. Of all the words we heard throughout the day, hers have really stayed with me through the weekend, and though I'm sure I misquote her slightly, this is what I remember:

She began her presentation saying that she knew we all came expecting to see pictures of starving Africans and decimated fields and dying babies. But that wasn't what she came to show us, because it really wasn't the whole story. You see, when we think about people living in extreme poverty around the world, we tend to think of them as victims. Poor them. All the things they lack. And this view is wrong. This view will not get us anywhere regarding the Millennium Development Goals. Because in viewing people as victims, we do not put ourselves on equal footing. We do not believe that we have anything to learn from them. And we do not open ourselves up to relationship--which is really what the Goals are about. Particularly as we approach them from a religious stance--the Anglicans living a working and praying in Angola are not victims; they are our brothers and sisters in Christ. And while we can certainly help provide money and medicine, food and education, they can give us a warmth and welcome and spirit that we have largely lost here in the West. It is truly a two-way street, and we must never forget that simple fact.

The Bishop echoed that sentiment in his closing remarks. No matter how hard it seems--no matter how many door seem closed (which is particularly true when talking to Episcopalians from NH--many Anglicans around the world would like to forget we exist or write us off entirely)--relationship will trump policy every time. If you take the time to build the relationship, it makes the actual work of doing justice and loving mercy seem less like work and more like the right thing to do.

The Millennium Development Goals are overwhelming. I went to a workshop on Goals 4 & 5--reducing child mortality and improving maternal health. And by the end I was overwhelmed and depressed. How do you change cultural views that contribute to poor maternal health? How do you combat child mortality when the leading cause of death is directly related to an absence of clean water? Where do you start? I ran into an acquaintance who attended a workshop on infectious disease (Goal 6)--and all he could think of was how many people would die between the end of the workshop and the time we left for home--and that there was nothing we could do about it. It's enough to drive you to complete and total inactivity. But the moral of the story and the lesson of the day and the thing I'd like for all of you to remember is what one person can do. Think about the things you already do that help further these goals in your neighborhoods, your city, your state. Think about the organizations to which you contribute that work toward these goals in the wider world. Think of the pieces you knit for Afghans for Afghans, the Dulaan Project, Children in Common, or any other organization. And then think of one more thing you can do. You can vote. You can pray. You can rally your friends and colleagues as The Yarn Harlot has done with Knitters Without Borders, or Wendy has done in support of the Heifer Project. Only you know what you can do--but I urge you to think seriously about the Millennium Development Goals and to make a goal for yourself. It doesn't have to be huge--think of Rosa Parks sitting down on the bus. And think of what can happen if each and every one of us actually do one thing.

Check out The ONE Campaign for ideas and inspirations. Leave me comments about ideas you have. I'm off to knit some more Magic 28 socks and think out my game plan for making my goal a reality.

You wouldn't think it would be this difficult....

Magic 28
In December, I finished work on my MLIS. It was a long and arduous process spanning several years and three states. There were times I didn't think I would finish, didn't care if I finished, didn't necessarily want to finish. But, with The Beloved's support and quite a few threats, the journey came to an end.

Well, mostly. Today I got an invitation in the mail for the Graduate Commencement Ceremony at the University of Rhode Island. I hadn't planned on attending. It's two-and-a-half hours away. I did much of my coursework through distance courses online or in Massachusetts and New Hampshire. I don't have much connection with the campus--in fact, I can only find a select few buildings on campus.

But...

Part of me really wants to don the cap and gown and hood (Lemon for the MLIS). To march. To shake some complete stranger's hand and receive an empty diploma cover. (The Diploma is at home. It came in the mail several weeks ago.) I love ceremony. I love the goofy things we do to mark milestones. And while desperately wish I didn't want to go to URI in three weeks, I'm starting to get a little twinge. It's almost like pre-guilt or pre-regret. If you don't do this.... what? What will happen if I don't go? Logistically, I have no idea how it will work out. What happens if the bookstore is all out of regalia by the time I get there at the last possible second? (I really don't see how I'm going to get there earlier to buy my stuff.) What happens if we get stuck in horrible traffic and I miss it anyway? What if, what if, what if?

This shouldn't be a hard decision. Yet....I don't know. Should I stay or should I go? The Beloved is no help. He doesn't want to go, but feels this should be my decision. Naturally, I'm paralyzed and finding myself incapable of making one. I will vacillate until it's too late and the decision is made for me. Or, maybe I'll find a spine or conviction or something to push me into action.

In the meantime, I'll knit some more socks. Finished the Magic 28 mate yesterday--aren't they cute? They're the same size and everything!

Polly helped. I think she's happy with them as well. Next time, maybe I'll be brave and try stripes or a pattern stitch!

My weekend in knitting

baby things
As promised--photos of my weekend knitting:

Dishcloth in Diamond Drop Lace. Unblocked. Knit in Sugar 'n Cream "Yellow" on US 7 needles. Here it is up close:

It's a pretty pattern and would likely make a beautiful scarf or baby blanket--two types of knit object I am currently avoiding like the plague.

The Dream Swatch. Coming along. There are miles to go before I sleep.... But it looks pretty, doesn't it?

Haiku. Progressing nicely. The right front and the armhole are done. I've knit about an inch or an inch-and-a-half of the back. You can see a bit of the Dream Swatch in the corner. What a drama queen!

Magic 28 sock. It's lonely and needing a mate. Hopefully I'll have time to make one before the end of the week. It's cute, isn't it? Here it is a little closer...

Here's a confession--this is my first-ever sock. When I took up knitting again, a couple of years ago, I did it with the goal of making socks somewhere in the back of my head. For some reason, I thought it would be hard and that I didn't know enough to be able to attempt the fine art of sock-knitting. Lo and behold, it wasn't that bad! There are some things I will probably change the next time around, but all in all, I like it. I hope it will serve its purpose well. And now I'm not nearly as intimidated by the Cherry Tree Hill yarn in my stash waiting to become something gorgeous.

And now, for the final round-up:

I think our models deserve a nice round of applause, don't you?

Here comes the sun

baby things
Spring has sprung--I think. Today it seems a bit more like we skipped over spring and went straight to summer, but since it isn't cold and rainy, I don't feel as though I should complain.

To celebrate, I did what any red-blooded American girl would do--I got a haircut and bought shoes.

Aren't they cute? I went in looking for sandals. But these were on sale. They were calling to me. They're green and pink and absolutely oozing spring-ness. They're also imminently more practical for work. (Have you ever dropped a good-sized book on your foot whilst wearing sandals? Take it from me--it's not fun.) And, did I mention, they were on sale? OK. I'm done rationalizing. However, the fact that I really don't have any sandals to speak of since the cat puked on my Tevas at some point in the past month and I've only just discovered it is plaguing me just a little. I've got to have another pay period coming up soon, right?

Since I haven't mastered the art of photographing myself, you don't get to see the haircut. Too bad! It's actually not any different from how I've been wearing my hair for the past four months--it's just two inches shorter, which managed to get rid of all the dead, fuzzy ends. If I was together enough to blow dry my hair before work, it would look sleek and straight. Instead, it looks acceptable, and less crappy than last week. The haircut was a bit of an adventure. I went someplace new, which was only a little terrifying. My previous hairdresser is a wonderful woman. She's been cutting my hair for about five years now. Unfortunately, we've moved, and it just seemed silly with the price of gas to drive half an hour away, particularly since, as The Beloved so eloquently stated, we moved to "the cultural center of New Hampshire."

So, I made myself an appointment at Portsmouth Spa, "Portsmouth's fun spa." It's a cute enough little place, and the woman who cut my hair was not only competent (which is always wonderful), but a good listener. Now, I'm not one who talks and pours out my life story to the poor soul charged with cutting the disaster that is my hair (that's why I have a blog, you see), but there are few things that drive me crazier than being granted a lovely hairstyle that requires more upkeep than washing it and drying it straight. Particularly when I say, "I am hair-challenged. Please do not ask me to do anything more with this than blow dry it." She also listened to my growing concerns regarding my current color--or lack thereof. And provided multiple options. So, next month I will go back and, God willing, she will use her magical skills to make my gray less obvious.

Regarding the spa itself, I will likely go back and avail myself of some of their other services. Once my hair color is determined, I'll get my brows shaped and tinted--an expenditure that The Beloved feels is equivalent to my flushing money down the toilet, but I insist makes me look "polished." The only downside? One of the hairdressers is a guy with whom I attended high school. This is one of the hazards of moving back to your hometown, I suppose. No matter where you go someone knows who you are. Anonymity no longer exists....which, ordinarily, is a good thing. But sometimes a little anonymity is a good thing when your head is covered with chemicals and foils in the never-ending fight against premature signs of age....

The weekend wouldn't be the weekend without knitting. I knit on the Dream Swatch. Outside. In the center of town. While drinking a latte. And shooting the breeze with the other locals (seriously--I saw a guy from my church, the priest from the other Episcopal church in town who filled in for us while ours was out on paternity leave at Christmastime, and a couple of other folk who have known me since I was knee-high to a grasshopper). It was pretty sweet. Then I finished a dishcloth. I also did a little work on Haiku, particularly since its future owner came to dinner on Saturday night and allowed me to measure her arms and torso. If I finish the sweater soon, it may actually fit her. And, the baby cardi/kimono finally went off to its new home--right in time for the 80 degree weather. Last, but not least, I knit my first "Magic 28" sock. It's very cute...but a little pointy. I'll need to do something different with the toes for the next pair. But, it makes me happy to think of this sock keeping some little child's foot warm. I think it was just what I needed to get me out of my slump. I'm now ready to finish off some of my languishing projects (I'm talking about you, Dream Swatch)--if only to knit more teeny-tiny socks.

Pictures to follow...I am currently sans camera, but will rectify the situation with a nice picture-heavy post later today or tomorrow.

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