Enjoy

Dude!

Welcome to my new fascination: hand spinning. It's not really new. I became interested in spinning a couple of years ago when my lovely friend Beth (More on her later) talked me into buying a drop spindle and some lovely roving. And so began a cascade of unfortunate spinning events marked mostly by intense cursing. I spun and spun. I was never satisfied with the finished product. I finally gave my spindle to a friend. I'd had quite enough, thank you.

But with the economy the way it is and my sense of impending cultural/economic doom weighing ever greater on my mind, I decided to give spinning another whorl. This time I wasn't fooling around. I would use a wheel. Now I know what you're thinking. Wheels are for girls. Or old crones. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Spinning wheels are a boyknitter's dream come true.

Our tree-trunk legs and hairy arms were made to spin. Big clumsy hands and over sized fingers really show that wool who's boss! And speaking of hands...how handy will it be when we're all living on that giant agrarian commune in a couple of years to be able to whip out pound after pound of enormous yarn? Think how fast the blankets and long johns will knit up!

I think any man would be proud to use a spinning wheel. Think about it. It's a machine...let me rephrase that...it's a really powerful machine. The first time you get behind the wheel your heart races and sweat beads up on your brow. Then you press that treadle down and you can feel the wind on your face. To top it all off your hands are full of wool! Nothing dainty about it. It's downright sexy.

I say all this tongue- in -cheek because my own spinning is really far from what I'd dreamed up in my head. Spinning reminds me that life is a comedy. Just look at this example:

(Please note the slubs, overtwist and inconsistency)

Even though it ain't perfect, I'm kinda proud of it. It is one contiguous strand of spun yarn. I was never able to achieve that on a drop spindle. And it was fun.

Here's the problem with spinning. Getting it right is a matter if instinct not knowledge. Oh sure, there are some rudimentary steps and basic methodology...but the technique, the finesse, these must be acquired at the wheel. In other words, you will know when you're doing it right, even though you may have trouble putting that into words. It's like trying to teach someone how to kiss. It's a little more than the simultaneous juxtaposition of the two orbicularis oris muscles in a state of contraction. But you know when it's right. And you know how you got there. And sometimes you just have to fly by the seat of your pants.

Boyknitters sometimes face a double whammy when it comes to learning. They must try to find a teacher (which is hard enough) who isn't bowled over by the fact that their potential student is a man. I think we've all ran into this type of yarn seller. They can't believe you're in a yarn store asking for help. (The best remedy for these people is to repeatedly go back to them dressed in camouflage, boots and a baseball hat.)

The best solution is to find a friend to knit with. You can work on each other's problems together. Should you ever find yourself knitted into a corner go to the yarn store or the prospective teacher together. That way, there will be two boyknitters at the counter asking for help.

There's strength in numbers.

No Apologies

I went to Barnes & Noble the other night, because a day is not complete without a trip to B&N.

I started looking at knitting books that were directed at men. They had titles like Knit Your Man A Big Sweater He'll Never Stop Wearing Or Talking About Or Thanking You For.

And of course there was also Son Of Knit Your Man A Big Sweater He'll Never Stop Wearing Or Talking About Or Thanking You For.

I kept thumbing through the pages admiring the models. There were some very good looking men in these books. Most of them were ruggedly handsome with chiselled features sporting ever so clever hand knit items whilst sipping lattes or changing tires or hanging out at the laundromat. Most of the books had the obligatory 10 page index on how to knit which always includes diatribes on bambo vs. metal needles. Some of the books even had sections on men's tastes and how to divine which project he would like and what kinds of yarn men would like to have next to their skin. Then there were the patterns.

Let me pause here to say that I am not out to knock any book on knitting. I am a book taught knitter. I think books are great and I love reading them. All of them.

But, I'm a little frustrated with what's out there masquerading as advice. What frustrates me the most is that practically every pattern or design for men is apologetic. They are apologetic even before they are knit. There is a foregone conclusion that the man is not going to like this so we better put a skull and crossbones on it or knit it out of some outrageously expensive chic yarn (which makes the knitter feel better) and maybe that gimmick will make up for the fact that this is hand knit.

As a man, I find this to be at best patronizing and at worst insulting to my intelligence. As a man who knits I find it maddening.

So without further ado and preaching I give you:

Top Ten Things To Consider When Knitting For A Man

10. Product is more important than process.

Men don't know the difference between brioche in the round and garter stitch back and forth. Nor do they care. Do not knit to impress them. Find a design that you can knit and that he will use. No frills. Nothing dainty. Remember, if I'm afraid of it I'll put it in a box and keep it in the back of my closet. Forever.

9. It doesn't have to be a sweater.

Think about how many men regularly dress. In the winter when knitwear is most applicable, they wear coats. They wear big coats usually. Please don't make me walk around, or, worse yet, drive around, in a thick sweater covered up by a thick heavy coat. It's like wearing a straight jacket and also it cuts off my circulation and it's hard to bread. Did it mention that it's HOT. It's hotter than ten hells. How about a nice set of mittens? Please make them in a non-girly color and for God's sake make them big enough. Make the thumb anatomically correct. Practice til you get it right. I'll love ya forever.

8. Beer Cozies?

Although easy and quick to knit, beer cozies are unecessary. Men don't hold a beer bottle long enough to necessitate a cozie. They will also invariable throw the bottle away with the cozy still on it. So don't bother. If your man is a Metrosexual you might want to consider a felted cozy to fit a Grande or Venti Starbucks coffee cup. (So he doesn't burn his fingers) Oh wait, they give you a cardboard sleeve for free when you buy the coffee. Scratch that.

7. Grey Matter.

In terms of color choice, grey makes everything manly. Don't make it all in grey unless he is an old man. Just sprinkle it with grey if you think it could even remotely be considered girly. Get a color wheel. If what you are making is even close to the pink section on the wheel...add grey.

6. Ribbed for his pleasure, no no.

Men don't like to be squeezed by their clothing. That's your job. Unless your man is painfully thin and freakishly toned (notice I did not say ripped which implies bulk) never knit a garment for him that is ribbed. Ribbing is a wonderful thing that should be relegated to Nineteenth century waistcoats or Merchant Ivory films. Ribbed sweaters just don't look good on most people. And they feel even worse.

5. Don't knit me a felted man purse.

I don't care what Noro is or what kind of deal you got on it for buying it in bulk. If your man wants a messenger bag take him to Eddie Bauer or J Crew or Old Navy and let him pick one out. That's all I have to say about that.

4. Men don't have sex in sweaters.

Never knit a man something that you think will make him look sexy. Knitting has nothing to do with sex. In fact, should the opportunity for sex arise, the sweater or scarf or whatever will be the first thing to be taken off and thrown on the floor. And how embarrassed will you be when you get out of bed or off the couch or dining room table to the collect said knitted object and fold it lovingly back into shape while he waits. Hardly the desired effect.

3. A Word on Arans

Aran sweaters are lovely. But only knit him an Aran if it goes with his hair. You know what I mean.

2. Size Matters

See #6.

1. Never give hand knits as presents for major holidays.

There is no greater terror, for a man, than opening a sweater on Christmas. The fear is deep-rooted in childhood when sweaters and other hideous hand knits were thrust upon us by overly perfumed and kinda creepy aunts and grandmas. There are no words to describe the feeling in the pit of your stomach when you open wool for Christmas. Choose electronics instead. Perhaps a GPS. YOU wear the sweater instead. He'll love you in it.

Plus Ca Change...

The blog is a year old. And I'm a year older. There have been lots of events this past year, but looking back things are still the same. We're still fighting over whether or not it's "pause" or "paws." The Ham Police were out in force again this year. (Really people this is such an amazing sight...and I'm convinced it could only happen in the South.) The weather is as funky as ever, and the scientists are urging us all to run for cover.
Christmas was spent with both our families in attendance. We had a wonderful meal thanks to MOMD. He stayed up about 985.7 hours in order to make everything perfect. (He's just that kind of guy) I got lots of really cool presents. (Bose earphones for the iPod...can you say spoiled????) The best present of all was being surrounded by the people I love. I can't say enough how happy it made me. It was wonderful.
One thing that has changed significantly is my knitting. I finally decided that it might be a good idea to take some chances with the needles. I'm following Elizabeth Zimmermann's advice, and, so far, I'm loving every minute of it.
It seems I have been knitting in circles. By that, I mean I was knitting the same projects over and over again because they were comfortable. I knew how to knit them from memory, they were all useful, and I didn't run the risk of failure.
Failure can be extremely instructive.
What I like about EZ is that she opens up pathways that I didn't even know existed. And she does it in the most subtle ways.
I'm currently knitting the Pi Shawl. I started knitting it because I thought it was cool that you start off with 9 stitches and from that grows this organic object with such potential for beauty. I didn't realize how many hidden doors this project would open for me. I've become much more attentive to what my hands are doing. I've learned that I really, really like lace. And when I screw up, I am forced to find my own solution to the problem.
I began knitting out of sheer boredom during an ice storm. I continued knitting because I realized that it was a fantastic artistic outlet. I am learning that the possibilities are truly boundless.
I understand now more than ever how little I know about knitting. I feel like a small stranger in a vast landscape. I believe, however, that this feeling of ignorance and humility is the beginning of wisdom.
So here I am back at square one. But I'm on a totally different grid.

An Evening With Elizabeth

Some time ago I complained that I do not know any shawl wearer thus I have no need to knit the PI Shawl from Elizabeth Zimmermann. I also lamented that I desperately wanted to knit the PI shawl. Quite the quandary.
I have since come the conclusion that my knitting, which I would desperately like to become more intuitive, much change from object knitter to process knitter. And devil take the hindmost! SO...I grabbed Ms. Elizabeth's book and some sport weight wool and took off. And I got so lost I couldn't go on.
Because I forgot something.
You don't go to EZ for a pattern to follow. You work your way through her books gleaning knowledge and insight as you go. You become your own teacher.
So I've tossed out everything I know about knitting, and I'm starting over with The knitting Workshop.
I spent last evening making a hat. I've made several hats. I like making hats. Now I understand hats.
I even ripped back twice because I just wasn't satisfied. (watches as the blogospherians FAINT)
I would really like to start on the sweaters next.
I just wonder if the world holds that much oatmeal colored wool.
I may make them in child size for the nephew.
Oops that was the old me...always thinking of a purpose for the knitted object....
hows this:
I'll just make em and I'll enjoy it and they'll be awesome because they are made of only yarn.
And I'm smarter than yarn.
At least that's what I keep telling myself.

Now That's Some Accordeon Playin'

Ambiguous

L'appartement
by Noir Désir
Attends-toi à c'que je me traîne
A tes pieds, Laura, j'ai constaté que même

Un silence de toi pouvait pousser mon rire à mourir

Attends-moi, toi tu es la reine,
Des sommets, l'orage sévit dans les plaines
Tu ne m'entends pas, je suis parasité malgré moi

Elle a su, simplement
Enfermer mon coeur dans son appartement

Avec ou sans toi, j'ai quelques problèmes
Tu t'en fous, Laura, j'suis désolé quand même
Si tu vas par là, ça me convient aussi dépose-moi

Encore une fois, c'est d'en bas que j'appelle
Elle se penche parfois de son nid d'hirondelle
Daigne me recevoir, ne me laisse pas de place pour m'asseoir

Elle a su, simplement,
Changer les clefs de son coeur et de l'appartement

Attends toi, à c'que je me traîne
A tes pieds, Laura, en attendant je sais
Que le jour viendra, où je pourrai en mourir de rire.

{Wait for me to drag myself
to your feet, Laura, I believed that even

your silence could cause me to die laughing

wait on me, you are the queen
from the summits the storm rages on the plain
you don't understand me i hang on despite myself

she was able simply to shut up my heart in her apartment

with or without you i got problems
you don't care, Laura, i'm sorry anyway
if you're going that way i will too drop me off

once again from below i call out
sometimes she leans out from her sparrow's nest
dare to take me in but leave no place for me to sit

she was able, simply
to change the locks of her heart and her apartment

wait, Laura, for me to drag myself
to your feet, Laura,until then i know
the day will come
when i can die laughing }

I really like this video. And I love this song. It's full of torment and longing and desperation. It's about a guy who's obsessed with a girl who won't have anything to do with him anymore. It's by my favorite band in the whole world, Noir Desir.

Translated the band's name means black desire. They rose to popularity in the late 80's and early 90's. I was living in France at that time. I cannot overstate how immensely important the band has been in my life. They reigned over my youth.

In college I specialized in post-modern French literature. I cut my teeth on Robbe-Grillet, Natalie Sarraute, Marguerite Duras. Then I went to France to study. And there was this band who wrote the most beautiful poems. Their songs were so intelligent and so engaged. They raged against people like Jean-Marie LePen and the Front National. And they did it all so deftly and their music rocked. And they were dead sexy.

The front man, Bertand Cantat, was for me the symbol of all that was right with art. He was committed and smart and excellent at what he did.

But I came back home to the states and started a new life that had so little to do with art and with political movements. I never forgot the absolute joy that I got from this music. I kept buying their albums. Finally around 2000 the band disolved. They moved into a distant part of my brain with lots of other marvellous memories of my youth.

Then earlier this year I came accross his name. Bertrand Cantat. And I learned that he was in prison. Naturally I was shocked. So I read further.

Here's what happened...

Bertrand Cantat was engaged to a beautiful young French actress named Marie Trintingnant. They were in Eastern Europe where she was shooting a film. After a party they returned to their hotel. A fight ensued. There was shouting and the sound of things breaking. The next morning Bertrand called his brother and asked him to come to the hotel to help him with a problem.

The fight had become violent. In a jealous rage he hit his finacee several times in the head. She was flown to France and died a couple of days later from a massive cerebral hemorrhage.

Bertand Cantat surrendered to the Bulgarian police and confessed everything. He was sentenced to prison. After serving half his term, according to French law, he was released late last month.

I feel like part of me has died. I also feel incredibly creepy for wanting to listen to their music still. I feel like my brother has died. I am enraged that he's a murderer. And I just don't know what to think about it all. The shock has still not worn off.

I just keep going back to these songs...songs like Tostaky...which perfectly expressed the whole decade of the nineties, its fin-de-siecle ennui coupled with the heart wrenching reality of world politics, growing European fascism and shattered youth. All so poetically and beautifully written in a three minute song that we used to dance to.

I just don't know what to think. It's one of the things that keeps bouncing around in my head. How do you continue to admire a murderer? Or do you separate the crime from the individual? How can you?

Cantat, how could you?

Word of the day

Womba.

It's an african word that means: the smile on a child's face while he is sleeping.

Does it get any better than that?

Isn't this blog about knitting?

Believe it or not amid all the vacating and falling into autumn exchanging....I have not stopped knitting.

Behold the Malibrigo

Of course no picture can ever do it justice. I knit it in brioche stitch. I just love the colors and it feels well...it feels like mmmm mmmm mmmmmmmm.

I've started another scarf the besotted scarf. It's an XO cable pattern. The cable is a 16 row repeat that's incredibly simple. I had it memorized after two repeats. I'm knitting it from Canadian Regal that I purchased from Schoolhouse Press. All I can say about this wool is that it's industrial strength. Hopefully it will condition into something a little softer in the wash. But the color is a nice gray and it's slightly heathered.

There has, of course, been sock knitting. I finished the Araucanian socks in deep red. Also a pair of fisherman's wool socks. They float.

Recently I have seen several books about knitting for men, men who knit, knit your boyfriend a sweater he'll wear, there's even a son of stitch and bitch book. I've been thinking a lot about how male knitters differ from female knitters. All of the basic instruction books until very recently have been written by women. Most of the men knitting today learned from women. But knitting cannot be the private property of women. And I don't think there are any women knitters out there who feel that way.

I find what separates us and makes us different is the choice of projects we choose to knit. It bothers me that most men spend their time knitting socks, hats and scarves. There's just more to life than that. I desperately want to knit EZ's PI shawl. But what am I going to do with it once it's knit? The problem must be this utilitarian approach I have to knitting. I want my knitting to be artful but also very useful and practical. I guess I need to admit to myself that this always isn't possible. I can't have my PI shawl and wear it too.

Charleston y'all

This year MOMD and I were treated by my parents to a week at the beach with them. It was such a nice thing for them to do. It was a week spent walking on the beach, playing in the lazy river and lots and lots of miniature golf.
Then MOMD and I headed south to Charleston.
I had no idea what a treat lay in store for me.
Charleston is an 18th century port town that has managed to retain not only an historical air but the whole place is just downright COOL. You enter the city accross one of the most beautiful bridges I ever saw. It's a huge metallic suspension bridge and in front of you lays Charleston with it's charming eighteenth century church spires.

There are over a hundred churches in Charleston of all denominations. Here's a lovely one

While in Charleston it's nice to take a carriage ride around the city. We chose to go early on Sunday morning. Everywhere around town as we drove by people were coming and going from church. Bells were ringing. Above are two lovely, lovely ladies coming out of the French Huguenot church. After the carriage tour we had breakfast at Joseph's. I had the sweet potato pancakes with pecan, brown sugar butter. I highly recommend!!

Charleston is an old city that is alive with hospitality and friendliness and style. Intimate courtyards abound

And then there are the houses.... And everywhere are the live oak trees.Charleston was such a pleasant surprise to me. There was beauty everywhere and the people were polite and charming. I can't wait to return.

Thank you Melissa

The first thing I have to do is to thank Melissa from the Fall Into Autumn Dishcloth Swap. She sent me a lovely green dishcloth and a nice bar of soap. For the first time I am actually considering using it as a washcloth.

Thanks so much for your thoughtfulness.

p.s. i LOVE the card.

spooky but also dancing

What's so special about a dishcloth

One of the first things I ever made was a dishcloth. They fit the bill when it comes to my idea of knitting: they are utilitarian, don't cost much money and allow for a wide variety of experimentation.
Here's my generic recipe for dishcloths:
Cast on 40 stitches on size 6 wooden/bamboo needles. Cotton is essential. Who would want an acrylic dishcloth? Knit every row. Avoid stockinette because after a wash or two it looks "slick." The thing must lay flat. Therefore good ole garter stitch is just fine. Seed stitch looks splendid.
Cotton shrinks in the wash so make the thing a little larger than you normally wood. I usually knit some kind of border around just for kicks.
It's a great way to experiment with new stitch patterns. You could even call it a swatch. And they're fast.
MOMD said he liked using hand knit dishcloths. So when we were first together, after I came out of the knitting closet, I made him a whole bunch. He felt like they were too pretty to use. How sweet.
The reason I use wooden needles is because I like the feel of them in my hands. And they warm as you use them, which is very important. I started off using wooden needles because the yarn tends to stick to the needles and doesn't go flying off the ends.
Nowadays I use metal needles for speed's sake. But I always come back to my bamboo straight needles for dishcloths. It's like coming home. It's like going back to that time when all I could knit was a dishcloth.
For everything else I use wool. I really like Knitpicks Wool of the Andes. It's a strong resilient fiber that lends itself to just about everything I want to make.
I'm a fool for circular needles. They adapt to any project. Metal ones don't break or get lost, and you can knit flat or in the round. They are a sound investment. I don't like interchangeable sets like Denise. They don't come small enough and the cable is so bulky it slows me down.
So there's my Dishcloth exchange post for the week.
Hope to hear from you all soon.

Grammar correction

In a previous post I wrote, "I have knit for five years."

Grammatically this is correct. The past participle for the transitive verb, to knit, may be expressed either as knit or knitted.

The usage, however, was gauche, and I attribute it entirely to my lack of sleep. I should have said, "I have been kniting for five years." This is the future progressive tense. It indicates a state or condition that began in the past, continues during the present, and is most likely to continue in the future.

What was I thinking.

Joke

It's so dry the Baptists are just sponging people off.

I'm In

1. Do you knit or crochet? How long have you been doing it?

I have knit for five years

2. Have you made dischloths before? Do you use them yourself, give them as gifts, or both?

I use them myself and give them as gifts.

3. What's your favorite cotton to make cloths from? What cotton would you like to try that you haven't before ?

Peaches & Cream

4. If you knit, do you prefer circular or straight needles? For all, do you prefer wooden, metal, or plastic needles?

For dishcloths I like straight bamboo needles. I use both metal and wooden. Never plastic.

5. What are your favorite colors? Any colors you don't like much?

I detest pink. I love russet, brown, green. Any earth tones.

6. What do you like best about Autumn?

Colors and the light changes intensity.

7. Pies: Pumpkin? Apple? Pecan? All of em? or No Thanks!

All of them, and can I have seconds?

8. When you were a kid, were you the one who couldn't wait to get started with school , or the one who overslept on the 1st day?

I overslept.

9. Do you celebrate Halloween? (The real key here guys is especially knowing if you have an aversion to the holiday or little goodies/decorations associated with it, given the timeframe of the swap)

Halloween's cool.

10. If you had to choose just 3 edible 'goodies' to eat for a full year, what 3 would you choose?

Espresso beans, sugar covered roasted pecans, chocolate covered peanuts.

11. Do you have any pets? Kids? Husbands who seem like kids? ;)

I'm a pediatric nurse. I have lots of "kids."

12. If you were to describe a particular yarn that shares traits of your personality, what would it be and why?

Light colored wool. It's plain and sturdy and versatile

13. Do you use your cloths mostly for dishcloths, or as facecloths?

Dishcloths

14. Favorite Fall Holiday: Halloween or Thanksgiving and why? (Feel free to share another fall memory if you do not celebrate either of these holidays)

Thanksgiving. FOOD.

15. Do you have any allergies or aversions your pal should know about?

I have a severe aversion to acrylic. No allergies.

It Rained!

Last night it rained two inches on my side of town. It was a sporadic thunderstorm because the south side of town got as little as .25 of an inch. Kentucky is in extreme drought. The Kentucky River is trickling. We have mandatory water restrictions. We get to water the plants on Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday from 6a to 10a then again from 6p to 10p. The fine for violating is 250 dollars.
Of course the car washes are exempt from this restriction. I can wash my care ten times a day if I want. Just can't water my plants. We have been extremely careful this summer more out of necessity than choice (we just weren't home that much) about watering outside. The plants on the back porch died when we were gone for a week. But three of them are coming back thanks to a little TLC (and being submersed in a gallon of water for a week non stop.)
The flowers in front are doing superb, and they've been watered very little.
I'm all for conservation. I think it's a good thing. I fear that water restrictions may increase consumption tho. (honey we better get out and water for four hours cause we can't water tomorrow..)
I finished the red socks made from Araucana. They're pretty. There was some random pooling of light red/orange on the instep. I like that.
Old Brown Sweater is also getting some attention. The body and one sleeve are complete. I work on him when I can. The filet is half done.
Sorry no pics today. I'm in a rush before work.

So Many Social Engagements...So Little Time

What a whirlwind of activity it has been the last week. We started our week off at the CIRCUS. I hadn't been since 1978. I had to make up for lost time. I think everybody looks better in a clown nose with cotton candy stuck on their face. Wouldn't you agree?

Long story short..it was fantastic. The greatest show on earth, even. My nephew who is three was delighted. His favorite part was the 7 motorcycles being ridden in a round metal cage. They made me very anxious.

On Friday it was off to the state fair...

I'm not sure what breed these sheep are...but they were soft.

These young people were so proud of their prized heifers.

The knitting display was so paltry we took no pictures of it.

Note to the State Fair Board:

Please display the hand knit aran sweaters UNFOLDED. Also the latvian mittens made of handspun should not be displayed folded up in a dark back corner of a glass case. These items are difficult to make and deserve to be admired.

On Saturday we were off to Dayton, Ohio for a birthday party of a very special boy who turned eight years old. We had cake, coffee, Frickers chicken wings and lots and lots of good times with family and friends.

Now it's time to head back to work. It's almost time for vacation.

Somehow it seemed fitting..

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Duke David the Inexorable of Happy Bottomshire Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Thanks Zabet.

Can I live here please?

Well I'm back in town after a lovely week in the mountains of North Carolina.
We have now driven the entire length of the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina. And it's worth it.
I was a bit troubled to learn that the trees on Mount Mitchell are dying partly due to acid rain (Mt. Mitchell receives about 200 pounds of acid rain per acre when it can only withstand 18 pounds per acre) but also due to the woolly aphid. Park officials have released beetles to eat the aphids but it's not working. There is, however, lots of new growth. Apparently the new trees have developed genetic resistance. The observation tower on Mt. Mitchell has been closed while they rebuild it. I kinda liked the old one. Oh well.
Of course there was tons of good eating. Let the dieting begin.
The weather is still hot. I never realized there was such a difference between 91 degrees and 101 degrees. It's been so hot that when you go outside at midnight your face burns. That's hot. Plus the humidity has been over 50 percent so it feels a lot hotter.
I'm working on the filet bag. I'm making it out of rug wool that I purchased for 1.00 dollar. I have lots of it and it's going to be big. Also the red socks are coming along. I'm up to the gusset decreases on the second sock.
On a personal note I would like to thank you all for your encouraging e-mails and comments following the post entitled 'I'm just pissed off.' It's all good as far as I'm concerned. I've been called names before. I'm over it.
Hugs to you all.

Another stretch over

I just finished my six shifts and am ready for the nice eight days off. We're supposed to go to North Carolina.
I'll get to visit Mt. Mitchell..which I love.
Today I'm getting my hair cut and Leah is selling me her Palm at an unbelievably low price.
I'm all excited about all the medical reference software I can cram on there.
Gonna get some sleep now.
good night.

I'm just pissed off

Last night at work someone whom I've worked with for years made a comment that upset me.
We were sitting together in a common area with other co-workers. Someone asked how my husband was doing. I said he was fine. In front of everybody this lady lashed out and said "I'm really sick and tired of hearing about this. He is not your husband. You are not his WIFE. It offends me. It insults the idea of marriage." Then she got personal, "You are a significant OTHER. Understand?..you are OTHER."
I really think it was her calling me OTHER..loudly..that made me upset.
I am not some alien.
I am a human being.
I get turned on by different things in bed than most boys.
That's all that makes me different.
Otherwise...I'm like anybody else.
I have feelings.
I love..most people all the time.
I am considerate.
I am generous.
I have a sense of humor.
I prefer laughter to cynicism.
I dream.
I hope.
I have fears.
I have sat beside him through THREE hospitalizations in the past year. I have grieved beside him for his loved ones. He has been there for me every single moment of every single day.
Most of all though, I lay beside my HUSBAND every day and watch him breath and thank god that I've finally found someone who is just as loving and generous and funny and wonderful as I am. And he loves me back. unconditionally.
Together we are a positive, creative, understanding, open minded unit.
I know that our relationship is not conventional. I know that a lot of people think that we don't deserve basic human needs. I know that a lot of people believe that we are morally reprehensible. I know that a lot of people are threatened by a love that strong.
I just really didn't want to be REMINDED of that, especially by someone I counted as a friend.
There
It's over I feel better.

le vent nous portera

pendant que la maree monte
que chacun refait ses comptes
j'emmene au creux de mon ombre
des poussieres de toi
le vent les portera
tout disparaitra mais
le vent nous portera

toujours a venir, jamais oublie


en route pour la joie

Helactites

Not much to report today. No flashy pictures to post. There probably won't be much wit either.

Yesterday was spent exploring a cave. There's nothing like going into the bowels of the earth to put things in perspective.

I've been to three caves in my life.

The first is Mammoth Cave. It lives up to its name. It's an enormous labyrinth of dusty, sterile caverns. T. S. Eliot would feel right at home. There are some formations, but it's the sheer size of the cave that makes the biggest impression. The word eon comes to mind.

The second cave is a little more interesting. It's called Merengo cave. It's found in Southern Indiana. It's a wet cave. What that means is there's more water flowing through the cave. Water flows from above ground through cracks in the roof of the cave bringing with it lots of mineral. These minerals (mostly calcite) lay down deposits....slowly...to form magnificent structures such as these. These stalactites form at a rate of one cubic inch per century.

I did learn about a new formation called helactite.
They grown out from the wall towards you. They seem to defy gravity. Scientists say that this makes more sense that the ones that follow the rules of gravity. It put me in mind of heisenberg's uncertainty principle. It's really reasuring when life throws you a curve ball. It reminds me that life doesn't follow the rules and it always finds a way.
That's the thought for the day. If you think that there's no way out of where you are remember ...life's unpredictable and the end result may be way different that what you think it will be.
It might just turn out to beautiful in spite of everything.

Hoopty be thy name

Oh my God.
I've said it a thousand times: gay boys and cars do not mix.
About a week ago my precious little car started making a grinding noise every time I turned the wheel or applied my brakes. I was very concerned. Anything mechanical scares me.
I drove the car three times in this sad shape because I had to get to work. (ok one time was to go buy cigarettes...but it was a short trip.
Today I took said vehicle to the dealership to get it fixed.
Something about wheelbearings..rotors...a stray rock...a groove...489 dollars.
And then they gave me the loaner.
Let's call her MOBY DICK.
Yes, the great white land yacht.
She will not safely fit in my garage.
You could put a stove in there and raise a family.
Throngs of girl scouts and kids in soccer uniforms followed me home.
I am afraid of how much gasoline this thing is going to require.
I just keep hearing over and over in my head Hank Azaria from The Birdcage saying.......
It all goes back tomorrow.

The First Flowers

Today I did chores and housework and got outside to commune with the newly planted flowers. The little Dianthus has made it back. It survived the torrid temperatures of January and hoary snows of April. It was so confused as were all the plants. But it made it back better than ever. The tree in the front yard just has wads of leaves clustered around dead wood.









The Rhododendron was also lovely this year..

The hanging baskets that I hung just two weeks ago have really taken off. This petunia looked particularly wonderful with the sun going down. Its was just dripping with color.

It's funny how easily I am amused by all this. I think I would rather spend my time growing flowers in the dirt than anything else.

Sweet Spring

I've been outside a lot the past couple of days. MOMD and I took a walk at a nature/wilderness conservatory and he took this wonderful picture. We had a great hike.
Next day, we went over to my sister's house and landscaped. Pictures will follow. I want the plants to grow in a little bit before I show them to you. I planted geraniums (pink,white) begonias (pink), petunias (pink,purple),lariope for border plants. We also moved two trees and moved some other bushes around and replanted them. My three year old nephew didn't know quite what to make of it. He kept asking what we were doing. When we moved one bush (using the truck and rope) he thought we were pulling the house down. Now he keeps asking have we come over to pull the house down again.
I have to go back to work tomorrow. Not really looking forward to it. MOMD is working days and I'm on nights...so we're like ships that never quite reach port. But he'll go back to nights soon and life will settle back down to hectic/normal pace.

I'll leave you with this most bizarre photo...sheep calling....
That's BAAAAD...
c ya later.

Knitting Drunk

Well I survived the storm.
April has been an interesting month. I've gotten precious little knitting done. I'm still working on that Irish Hiking Scarf. It's such an easy cable and so rewarding. (Have I said that before??...so if it's so easy why isn't it done???)
I have a few ideas for new projects, but I WILL complete the ones at hand first.
I really want to make some of these scarves. They allow you to use up bits and pieces of leftover yarn of which I have plenty.
I really like this one too...and then there's the besotted scarf These look really great to me,and I'm not a fan of bobbles.
We shall see.
I had a great time last Tuesday at the Stich-n-Bitch. My lovely friend Jane hosted at her apartment. We had some wine, told some stories. I met some new people. It was great! I really drank too much wine. It's hard to knit drunk. You make some strange mistakes...or design features...I was going to rip back but I think I'll keep the mistakes in there. It's a great memory of knitting with Jane & co. I'll think of her every time I wear the scarf.
Today I've spent the day cleaning and doing chores around the house.
I got my African Milk Tree replanted...it was languishing in the kitchen but now seems happier out on the porch in its new, bigger pot.
I also got some very beautiful hanging baskets for the back porch.
The next project will be to plant the front. Also, MOMD and I are going to be landscaping my sister's front yard. That will be an adventure unto itself. The flower has not bloomed that will suit my sissy, but we're gonna try.
Well it's past midnight, and I'm gonna do a little knitting and go to bed.

It was a dark and stormy night

WEll, it seems that mother nature has decided to wreak havoc right now. It was sunny not long ago but right now all hell's breaking loose. Huge winds, sky to ground lightening, and eerily...not much rain. The sky is that awful yellow color. I've lived through tornadoes in my life. An F2 came through the neighborhood three years ago...didn't even pull the leaves off my petunias but destroyed everything in it's path two houses down the street.
The cable just went out as the weatherman was giving ominous warnings.
Sturm und drang.
Man of My Dreams.....sleeping soundly.
nervous laugh..i'll be fine.
We just got back from my parents house this weekend. It was nice. We went fishing with my dad and my brother-in-law. I caught four fish..MOMD claims that I only caught three..he was too busy baiting his hook to see that first whopper that I caught.
We grilled out Saturday night for the folks..it was gooooooood.
My sister is recovering from surgery....get well soon.
I just love my little nephew!!!!!!!! He just turned three. He's getting a personality now. His vocabulary is incredible. He loves to tell stories...those kind of stream of consciousness three year old stories...they're hilarious.
Work is work. Not much different there.
I just started the second fisherman's wool sock (knit from your stash)..and I'm halfway done with the Irish Hiking Scarf..which is so pretty. I love cables and I love that oatmeal colored wool.
It sounds like hail outside.
Just read Terri's blog and now I'm starving for beef and cheese. Wouldn't you know it...i'm out of both..but I don't dare venture out in this weather...but it sounds so gooooood.

American Idol just came on...I just love Melinda Doolittle. If she don't win....i'm gonna be so mad. I'm still not over Chris Daughtry...

Ok time to watch TV.
c ya later

Therapy

I've been feeling under the weather the past couple of days..some GI bug I picked up in the hospital...I needed to get my hands in some yummy wool...

And look what happened:

And soon it will be:

The Irish Hiking Scarf

I have an insatiable need for mucous colored wool. It's as comforting and satisfying as oatmeal.

I need it. It's the ultimate therapy.

In other news...Spring has arrived. Jonquils are busting out all over. The trees have set buds and I can't wait til for the world to be mud-luscious.

I wish I were in DC. Was there last year at this time and I missed the Cherry Blossoms by ONE WEEK. I was so bummed...but a last minute deal is a last minute deal and I couldn't resist the price.

Currently OTN: vanilla socks in fisherman's wool. I've had the yarn for as long as I've been knitting. I originally bought it for a sweater. I soon discovered that difficulty of sewing together bound off edges and abandoned the project. I WILL KNIT UP THIS WOOL...it's lingered in the knitting closet way too long.

I finished about three pair of socks...pics to follow..for now I must do laundry.

I Quit

I quit my second job on Friday night. It was a combination of being overworked, over-stressed, exploited and under appreciated.
I will miss the money.....but there truly are more important things.
The straw that broke the camel's back involved getting "pulled." Let me explain to those of you not in the medical field. If a particular unit (A) is overstaffed and another unit (B) is understaffed, someone from unit A has to go to B.
The problem was...they were pulling a very competent, very experienced Neonatal ICU nurse (moi) to an adult medical surgical floor. I had never been oriented to this unit..didn't know a thing about it. Ask yourself this question..would you want your loved one cared for by someone who had never stepped foot on that floor???..someone who normally manages tiny infants??? Think about it.
I hope that in the future if you are hospitalized you will ask and make sure that NO ONE is caring for you who is not an experienced regular nurse on that unit. They have to honor your request. It's just plain dangerous otherwise.
I'm a little frustrated but glad to have some time off.
I'm knitting a nice little pair of socks in knitpicks "storm."
c ya later.

Eighteen Dollar Socks

If you haven't figured it out by now, I like to knit socks. Every knitter eventually falls into a category...most people learn to knit and they try a little bit of everything before settling into a comfortable groove. There are those who spend their entire knitting life hunched over size 0000 needles knitting objects so beautiful they defy description. Others just pick up whatever fiber is handy and churn out yard after yard of wearable art. Then there are sock knitters.
Socks are predictable and they are easy. They also involve mastering many, many knitting techniques. Best of all they are immensely wearable. ( no matter how much holiday weight you gain your feet don't get much bigger....and if they do you're wonderful socks somehow accomodate!)
Recently a post on the sock knitter group grabbed my attention. I believe it came from one rather new to knitting. She was debating if it was worth it to spend $18.00 on Cherry Tree Hill yarn for something as pedestrian as socks.

You can imagine the flames.

But she raises an interesting question.
My take on the whole situation is this: if I could find a pair of wool socks knit to my exacting standards at J. Crew for eighteen dollars I would snatch them up in a minute. Truth is , they are just not to be found. Neither are sweaters knit to a guage fine enough to be passed down through the generations. If there were, they would cost hundreds and hundreds of dollars. Nuff said.
But I kept thinking about that question: is it worth it?
Which brings me to the (drum roll).......

Knitting Manifesto

1. Knitting is a highly reciprocal art form. The value of the art object produced is inherently bound up with the skill and artistry of the knitter. There are people who can make a silk purse from a sow's ear...but they are few and far between. The quality of materials however cannot be overlooked. Yarn doesn't have to cost a lot to be of good quality. I believe it should be durable and pleasing to the senses. As my friend Jane put it ever so succinctly, "The material out of which something is made is the difference between handmade and homemade." So, the value of the object rests in the knitters ability to decide which material will let him knit the most desirable object...and in my humble opinion ...the most efficiently (and therefore elegantly).
2. Knitting is an ancient art. This tenet absolutely has me by the balls. I cannot get away from it. Wonderful, timeless and valuable objects were created in three or four shades of homespun. I like the Shaker belief that you should make something expertly to look as if it were made yesterday but designed to last a hundred years. In my mind this means natural fibers in earth tones. When I knit, somehow, I feel an incredibly linked to the past. I feel like I'm participating in a very sustaining ritual. I just don't have the same passion for fun fur. But that's just me. I feel like I should branch out...it's just hard.
3. Knitting is inherently logical and immensely practical. I like making useful objects that will last and that are aesthetic