kmkat and her kneedles

Sunday evening, the golden hour.

Our sky was slightly overcast today but it was a beautiful day nevertheless -- perfect temp, light breeze. Heavenly, especially after the heat and humidity we suffered for several weeks.

I knit on the deck for a good while this afternoon, then came in to take care of a few things. Later I was at the computer and chanced to look out the window... and grabbed my camera.

The light was stunning.

Of course, I had help.

  
 

Wind! Rain! Crash!

As I sat at the computer reading my email this morning I noticed that the sky was getting dark. It kept getting darker. Then the wind started to blow and the black sky started spitting rain. I closed the windows on the windward side of the house and retrieved Lucy The Wonder Dog from her chain outside. 

Soon the rain was coming down in bucket and sheets and the wind was blowing at, I estimate, about 300 mph. The oak trees were leaning and tossing and I could not see the lake 75 feet away. Pretty darned impressive. The electricity flickered very slightly a couple of times and I thought I should shut down the computer, but I didn't.

Eventually I went to check that there was no rain coming in on the leeward side -- none, the wide overhanging eaves prevent that -- and noticed that there was a breeze coming in from the 3-season porch. Where there should NOT be a breeze.

You perhaps cannot tell, but there is a window missing there.

This the second time a window has blown out in that porch. I guess combination windows that big are meant to be used with inner sash windows; they are not strong enough by themselves to withstand sustained 50 mph winds. And we thought we were being so clever and economical back in 2001, using just the storms to create a 3-season porch.

Smokey has a lot of Lionel and other model trains neatly stacked on the ping-pong table just visible in the upper left of the second photo. I moved as much as I could out of the reach of the rain, but some of the boxes definitely got damp. Hard to believe, but sometimes the boxes are worth as much to a collector as the train car that came in it. Damn.

This weekend is the county fair. I am glad I am working there tomorrow and not today. I can only imagine how the tents and booths fared in this storm. Same exact thing happened last year, also on the day before I worked. I guess in some strange way I am lucky...

On a more cheerful note, I found this Shopped photo last week, the image manipulation done by #2 Son when he was in high school. (haslp was the screen name he used then, a combination of Half Life, a video game, and Slipknot, a heavy metal group.)

Remember that post about birds?

I forgot one.

The rose-breasted grosbeak was one of my favorites back in my coloring book days. Such fun to color that bright pink triangle on the white breast!

I forgot this one because we don't see them around here, even though we are smack in the midst of their range (right). I suppose this one is transiting to greener forest farther north. Too bad, I'd love to have him and his mate -- wherever and whoever she is -- hang around our feeders. We have the right habitat, too: 

HABITAT: 
Open woodlands near water, thick brush, large trees near open areas, marsh borders, overgrown pastures, dense growth of small trees, woodland edges, gardens, parks.

"Open woodland near water"? That's our front yard!

This guy was really, really, really persistent, too. I first noticed him as he attempted to perch on top of that thermometer attached to the window. He seemed to be trying to come into my office -- maybe he needed to check his email.

When he couldn't get into my office he tried getting into the porch.

(Photo taken through screened window, obviously. Sorry)

He was completely unafraid of the person (me) moving around in my office, getting out my camera, walking around trying to get good shots. He hung around for probably five minutes.

(Another screen-ed shot. As unafraid as he was, I doubt he would
have hung around while I rattled the screen out of the window frame.)

Perhaps it was the attraction of the feeder, or perhaps he is into interspecies homosexual relationships and was enamored of this male goldfinch.

Whatever. I hope he comes back.

Animal tales. We got 'em.

Beautiful sunny 60˚ish day here today. I carried some stuff in from the car and left the front door open for the next load... and forgot about it. 

Several hours later we realized that Lucy The Wonder Dog was nowhere in the house. She had found the magical open door. When she returned she had obviously been wading in the lake.

The upside of the winter fish kill in the lake is the eagles that have been feeding on them since March. 

The downside is a dog reeking of dead fish.

Smokey keeps a can of Febreze next to the bed for just these times. He toweled her down and Febrezed her, and she was once again welcome. On his side of the bed only.

* * * * *

Nice day, open window.

Cats.

Sit, sit, sit. Watch, watch, watch. Sniff, sniff, sniff. 

Omigod, what was that!?!?

Sit, sit, sit. Sniff, sniff, sniff. Watch, watch, watch.
::lather, rinse, repeat::

Sitting in the window makes a cat filthy. Filthy, I tell you! 
::asynchronous licking begins::

Ten on Tuesday, the avian edition.

Ten on Tuesday: Ten Favorite Birds.

1. The loon. There has been a nesting pair on this lake as long
   as we have been here, since 1991, and every spring we -- and everyone else on the lake -- watches and waits with anticipation for them to return. Some years they raise their chick(s) to maturity, some years the nest gets flooded out, some years the chick(s) perish in a storm, some years the chicks just disappear, probably dinner for some turtle or fish. They will not always come here; we are at the southern edge of their breeding range, civilization is encroaching, and global warming will eventually lower the level of the lake and shrink it too much for them. (Loons need a l-o-n-g runway to take off.) I hope that doesn't happen for a long, long time. That first haunting call heard every spring is magical.
   
   
2. The chickadee. I love their cheerful song (Chick-a-dee-dee-DEE!)  and their lovely two-note whistle. When I was very young my mother would whistle up the stairs to wake my father for breakfast; she did that in hopes of not waking me -- unsuccessfully, as it turned out. Her whistle was the chickadee's.
   
   
3. The cardinal. Who can resist that gorgeous red plumage on the male? I learned their whistle/call when we were camping in the Florida Keys and one perched above the microbus, whistling its little heart out and waking me every morning. Years later I would hear that same whistle on frosty but sunny February and March mornings in Minneapolis while I waited for the bus.
   
   
4. Woodpeckers -- red-headed (1, below), red-bellied (2), downy (3) and hairy (4) (the downy and hairy look so much alike I can only tell them apart by size -- downies are the size of a robin and hairies the size of blue jay), and we have even seen a pileated (5) a couple times here. So pretty, so busy. I love them even though they sometimes mistake our cedar siding for a very wide, very flat tree.
       
   
   
5. Goldfinches. I have a thistle feeder hanging on our deck railing, and have seen up to eleven of the bright little birds gathered around it to gorge themselves on seeds. Some spend the winter here, and their plumage is dull olive during that time. Come spring, they brighten to the beautiful yellow.
   
   
6. Hummingbirds. East of the Rockies there is only the ruby-throated hummer, but that just makes us appreciate them more. There is a constant stream of hummers to and from our feeder hanging from the eave during the summer. They are aggressive little buggers, though: you have not known intimidation until a hummingbird has hovered ten inches in front of your face and you have faced that needle-sharp beak, wishing you were wearing glasses.
   
   
7. The bluebird. They do not, as a rule, like the habitat here at this house -- too many trees, not enough open grass. But one of the first summers we were here, a bluebird pair made their nest in the martin house in the middle of the front yard. This was also against their usual nesting behavior -- the martin house was 15 feet in the air, they prefer to nest 6 to 8 feet above ground. But they did it, and when we sat quietly on the deck one afternoon we could hear the babies peeping and watch the parents come and go, bringing bugs to feed their babies. Another year they nested in a bluebird house nailed to a tree where I could see it from my kitchen window. But one night a predator -- raccoon, weasel, skunk, cat -- raided the nest, and we have never had bluebirds since, although I do see them flying across meadows from time to time when I drive into town.
    
8. Bald eagle. Have you seen the eagle cam*? The baby eagles are nearing fledgling stage, I think, but it has been fun to watch them grow. We have had eagles here, too, since early March. There was a significant fish kill in the lake, so there are a lot of dead fish on the shore. (Lucy has enjoyed rolling in them every time we let her go for a runaround. Ewww.) The eagles have been gorging themselves for two months. (Once again, ewww.) Once I was floating on an air mattress in the lake shortly after sundown, and a bald eagle flew low over me. It was so close that the way I first realized its presence was by the sound of its wings.
   
   
9. Barred owl. The special thing about the barred owl is that they live in the woods around here. Their call is not the Whooo! of storybooks, but rather more like the sound of a dog barking far away. Very rarely we might see one swoop across the road when we are driving home through the woods. At times like that I am always glad I am not a small scurrying mammal.
   
   
10. The flicker. This one became a favorite back in my
    coloring book days -- I loved the bright red stripe on the back of its head. They are in the woodpecker family, although I have mostly seen them pecking for ants in a humungous ant hill in a little rock garden on a hillside here. That ant hill was quite annoying every spring when I would plant flowers in the garde; it was destroyed when we put in the new septic system. Poor flickers had to find another place to feed. 

* I caught both the parents on the nest yesterday.

 

Catching up.

It is tough to find time to blog these days. I signed up to work 30 hours a week during this tax season. That was fine and dandy until we got busy a couple weeks ago. I have worked more than 60 hours in each of the past two weeks. This week will be not quite so bad, mainly because I took Monday off -- mental health day. It was marked as OFF in my original schedule, so I don't feel too guilty. (Until I look at my to-do list of 10+ returns that are waiting for me to review them, and fix them, and send them on to the next level of review, and fix them again, and do all the steps required to efile them, and, and, and...)

But I have a stash of photos from the past few weeks so we are gonna do Random Photos And The Stories That Go With Them, 'kay?

Random Thing #1.

Back in January a county board  committee of which I am a member toured the county jail. Interesting; I had only seen jails on TV.

The kitchen:

  

The county contracts with a food service to prepare the meals. They also prepare the meals here for the Meals-on-Wheels program.

Guess what this is:

The machine with the LED readout on the desk is the Breathalyzer. Happily, I had never seen one before.

A cell, this one for eight inmates. This one is in the less-restrictive area, to which prisoners are moved if they behave themselves. It was empty when we were in there because maintenence was working on the lights.

The uniformed man in the back, newly elected last November; he had been an investigator before his election (I voted for him because he was experienced and low-key; the other guy was experienced but seemed to want to build a paramilitary police force). The man at right is the jail sargeant who led the tour.

If your husband/wife/father/mother/sweetheart/brother/sister/son/daughter is in the Polk County jail and you come to visit, this is where the two of you will meet, you on the green chair on the far side and the inmate on the stainless steel stool:

Random Thing #2.

Remember the Spring Wine Sale? That beautiful and creative sign didn't last long. This was about a week later:

Random Thing #3.

A couple weekends ago I worked on a Saturday; my team took over a conference room that faced west.

The big building with the white rim around it just beyond the high-rise is Target Center, an indoor arena where the Timberwolves play. Beyond that and to the right is Target Field, where the Minnesota Twins play. The plume of smoke/steam just beyond that is... the city garbage burner.

Our office is on the 29th floor so we have a fabulous view. I'm not a baseball fan nor will I be here during baseball season, but with a pair of binoculars one could watch the action around home plate quite easily. If one were not too busy.

If you look carefully you can see the people lined up to buy tickets. That Saturday was the first day single game tickets went on sale.

Random Thing #4.

I really, really wish I had better photographs for this item. But I don't, so we'll just have to deal.

The aerator keeps some water open on our lake all winter, plus our groundwater heat pump outflow keeps a small area open next to our dock. A few weeks ago half-a-dozen raptors, mostly bald eagles, discovered the open water. They hung around for days. I don't know if they were finding fish or getting drinks or pretending they were ducks; I just know that we would see them swooping over the lake or over our house, and we had a great view of them.

You can just make out a bald eagle in flight through the tree branches:

Here's one sitting on the ice:

The open water by the dock:

The tracks around it were made by the eagles. (And probably other animals, but it's cool to think of the eagles leaving footprints in the snow.)

Random Thing #5.

There are always lots of fun little distractions at work during busy season. One Friday afternoon my neighborhood (the office is divided into "neighbborhoods" of twelve to twenty people, which are easily determined by the physical layout of the office.) There was beer and wine and snacks and... Jenga!

Pardon the photos; taken with my iPod.

 

We also have a daily trivia question that comes by email; s/he who has submitted the most correct answers by the end of busy season will get a prize. Last Friday's Happy Hour (beer, wine, snacks) featured a Name That Tune contest; winning team took away a mini-keg of Heinekin. There are email bingo games and guess-the-number-of-pieces-of-candy-in-the-jar contests, prizes being gift cards to Starbucks ro some such.

There are also impromtu antics. Look for the suction bup dart on the mirror. (Sorry, more iPod photos.)

Once they had the technique down, they attacked from afar, over cube walls.

And that is what I have been up to. Darned little knitting, and what there has been was never photographed. But there are only thirteen days to go!

Gulp. I have a lot to do before then.

Nest.

Matthew is here today to get new brakes on his car and to help Smokey do some other car stuff. A few minutes ago he came running into the house to show me what he had just snapped with his camera phone.

Behold: the biggest wasp nest we have seen in recent memory.

Hmm, guess we don't use that door much. Maybe when I was designing the house I could have left it out...

Watch out, little ladybu-- oh, wait, that's one of those annoying Asian ladybugs.

Kill!

For now, while the wasps are active, we will just let them be. In a few weeks it will be cold enough that they will be sluggish. Then we will knock down the nest and burn it. ::wicked laugh::

The bears are awake.

Taken Tuesday evening. Happily, all the cans were empty; otherwise, there would be coffee grounds, banana peels, and styrofoam take-out boxes scattered as far as the eye can see. Our trash pick-up is every Thursday. We have learned (through hard experience) that 1, they tend to come between noon and 1 pm, and B, everything works better if take the trash to the can that morning.

Note: I plan to move my compost pile to where it is more easily accessible from the house so that I am more likely to add to it. And yesterday we reorganized all the plastic icebox dishes so there is a unique pair dedicated to the knitting bag; that way they will ALWAYS be with us if we decide to eat somewhere and have leftovers to bring home.

Edited to add: Although there have been bears living in the woods around our lake for a number of years and we know they investigate our trash cans at the end of the driveway on a regular basis, we have never seen any evidence of them near the house. If they ever discover the compost pile...

Washout.

So THAT'S why the road was closed when I attempted to drive to the government center today after lunch. This is the township road that the gravel road that leads to the dead-end road that leads to our driveway. When I returned home at 5 pm, the road was open. There was some rip-rap lining the should just to the right of that piece of equipment you can see in the photo and some standing water next to the road in a couple places.

Excitement in rural Wisconsin...

Crow drama.

The scene.

A crow arrives.

Slowly they gather.

Anybody else coming?

Apparently crow #2 found a better branch. Good stuff under this bark, mate!

No matter how tasty the bugs are, the wise crow keeps its eyes open.

Sometimes it is enough to know your buddy has your back.

But when your lookout buddy leaves, it is probably time for  you to go, too.

The End.

A walk in springtime.

Sunday was a gorgeous day here, sunny and warm with a tiny breeze.  I knitted in the porch for the first time this year, even had the window open.

But before that I went for a short walk. Luckily, I had my camera along.

The round-lobed hepatica are in full bloom. Meet my latest wallpaper:

 

These little pretties are the first wildflower to bloom in the spring here, usually before anything else is green on the forest floor. They vary from white through lavender to nearly purple. I saw tons of them yesterday.

I didn't investigate this yellow flower -- it was off the road and up a hill (yay for 6x zoom and cropping!) but it looks to me like a yellow violet.

The odd thing is that the wild yellow violets do not bloom until after the wild purple violets, and those generally bloom in early June. They have barely shown their leaves yet. Further investigation is needed, as much as I dislike walking over rough ground.

Some kind of club moss, I think:

 

Partridge berries and more hepaticas:

 

Partridge berry is a low-growing ground cover whose red berries persist over the winter. They are edible but not palatable to humans (I tested this myself). The hill behind the house used to be covered with mats of partridge berry and club moss, but we lost most of it when we had to put in the new septic tank and drain field. :( 

All of that is a far cry from this, found last January somewhere on a bike forum:

 

That is not my boy but easily could be -- he has the face mask and helmet and headlamp and has biked over that bridge in Minneapolis many times.

I think I prefer the wildflowers of spring...

* * * * *

Perhaps you are curious as to what I was knitting on the porch? It was a potholder to be felted and added to the stash of stuff for sale at the Friends of the Polk County Libraries booth at local festivals this summer.

 

You get the artsy shot because there are all sorts of wonky stitches and ends not fully woven in (you can see one of the ends in the photo). Given that it will be felted I didn't worry about such details.

As you can see this uses the log cabin pattern; after the initial square of 10 garter ridges, work 5 ridges, bind off, pick up stitches along the next edge, rinse and repeat. Simple, eh? I am ashamed to tell you it took me four (4!) tries to get it right. Actually reading the pattern instead of just skimming it made the difference.

Loon!

Once again, the first loon of the season arrives less than 24 hours after ice-out. (Official ice-out was yesterday.)

This was the lake on Wednesday evening:

The lake report.

The unseasonably warm weather we had last week is gone, but it is still well above freezing every day. The opening that the aerator kept clear all winter has grown so big I can see it from my deck.

Hey, what's that on the ice? (Smokey and I have said that to each other several times in the past couple days.)

 

It's an otter, and I do believe it is snacking on a fish!

 

Buh-bye, Mr(s). Otter!

 

How did I get such ::coughcough:: spectacularly professional photos of the otter, you ask?

 

(Don't believe the thermometer on the wall -- it lies. The temperature was in the 40s today.)

This was my first chance to put my new GorillaPod to use.

 

The camera I was using, shown above, has a 10x optical zoom, great for snapping the otter, but just a bit too old to have image stabilization -- GorillaPod to the rescue! My small Canon that goes everywhere with me has IS but only a 6x zoom. But since there is a handy pocket in my purse/tote bag the flexible mini-tripod will go everywhere, too.

More photographic phun on the lake. Fish kill:

 

There is a small bay that is connected to the lake by a narrow channel. We are in the eighth year (I heard today) of a drought cycle, and all the area lakes are very low. Our water level is so low that the channel was impassable last summer, and these fish were trapped in the bay where the aerator was no help to them over the winter. Our lake association has been petitioning the state Department of Natural Resources for permission to dredge the channel, but the Powers That Be have so far said no. Maybe this will change their minds.

Sunny Saturday.

It was sunny and warm here all week. The temperature even climbed into the 60s (15˚C+) a couple times. Given that the average daily high at this time of year is in the 40s (5˚C+), that is AWESOME.

[digression] Definition of awesome: "Something Americans use to describe everything" [/digression]

Friday was cold, windy, and rainy, but today the sun returned and the usual sunny day activities resumed.

 

There is a tiny bit of open water on our side of the lake.

 

And Matthew's new hat is almost done. Just in time for warm weather...

 

Note: He said the one I gave him for Christmas was a tiny bit short -- didn't completely cover his ears. I think I may have overcompensated on this one.

Sunday. Random.

Claire asked where exactly that mysterious noise was coming from in my office. Here is the suspected area of origin:

There is nothing electronic or alive or capable of making a sound in that pile. Believe me, I have checked. The little black space heater, lower center, is unplugged.

Wait.

::light bulb over The Kat™'s head!!!::

I have an oil-filled heater under my desk.

Perhaps that is what makes the noise? I'd swear the sound is coming from elsewhere in the room, but perhaps... From where I sit the oil-filled heater is at twelve o'clock high; the apparent origin of the sound is at four or five o'clock.

I shall perform some experiments and report back.

* * * * *

Sun! The sun is shining today! Clear blue skies! Hallelujah!

After a week of fog and rain, the sun is very welcome.

 

At left, above, is our bathroom with its solar tube (no window). I know as soon as I open my eyes in the morning whether the sun is shining by how bright it is in the bathroom. This morning it was BLINDING! At right, the view out the solarium window toward the driveway and the woods.

It feels so mild outside one does not need a coat. (The thermometer above is in the shade; it is much warmer in the sun.)

The snow is nearly gone from our front yard.

 

The lake is still iced over, but not for long. No vehicles on it since last Sunday. Behold: rotten ice.

 

Spring fever hit Lucy today. She got away from Smokey and went for a runaround. You may not be able to tell, but her paws are wet and muddy.

...and there is a big doggy smile on her face.

* * * * *

When I set my watch forward today I set it to the second using www.time.gov.

I used to put this site up on my monitor every morning when the boys were getting ready for school. (At that time the page had a cleaner appearance, without all that text in the lower half, and the numerals were larger. The text is all about the change to Daylight Savings Time today, so tomorrow the page may go back to looking like I remember it.) The monitor was in the dining/living room and the boys could see it. I found it helped them remember to keep moving and lessened the need for motherly reminders to Hurry up! It's almost time to leave for school!

And that is my parenting tip for the year.

* * * * *

When Matthew was here a few weeks back I asked him if he had lost the hat I knit him for Christmas (STR Raven Clan, "Corbie") yet, knowing that he probably had. I was right. He was sad about the loss and told me of his efforts to find the hat. I know my boy; he has many good qualities, but keeping track of things -- even important possessions -- is often beyond his ability, so I didn't berate him for losing it.

We picked out more STR for a replacement, and it arrived on Friday.

 

Given the current weather situation he may not need this until next winter, but I am taking time off from the multicolored striped raglan to knit the hat. In my own experience, it is easier to lose a black thing than an almost-white thing; he may be able to hold onto this one longer.

Saturday sky.

This frigid image brought to you in consideration of the fact that you may be as bummed as I am by Cookie's and Squish's images of warmth and sunlight and buddin' and bloomin' trees.

The above is the first ice fisherman I have seen on our lake this winter. Usually there are several every weekend, some of whom leave their fish houses on the ice for weeks at a time. Weird, that lack of fisherman/houses. Maybe the fish have migrated to Lake Wapogasset, twenty or so miles closer to the equator.

One more photo to empathize with those of you who also are still suffering through the throes of Endless Winter. My deck, the snow carefully decorated by doggy pawprints:

* * * * *

I made the ball of yarn at left into the chemo hat at right. Hat has been mailed to the requester in hopes that it will complement the efficacy of modern medicine. Damn cancer.

* * * * *

The multicolor striped raglan progresses.

Yes, that is the same pink yarn in the current stripe as in the previous hat. I was, er, over-generous when I ordered the yarn for the stripes.

The Incredible Custom-Fit Raglan pattern is knit neck down. The knitter measures her neck and, using that measurement multiplied by her gauge, figures out how many stitches to cast on. After the neck shaping, the pattern says to increase 8 stitches every other row, two at each raglan seam, as is usual in raglan patterns.

Implicit in this instruction is the assumption that the wearer's body is in perfect proportion to her neck. Ahem.

You can see where this might pose a problem for those of us who: 1, are Amply Endowed, and B, have added more than a few too many pounds over the years. I was knitting away happily according to the stated instructions -- had, in fact, reached the end of the second colored stripe -- when this realization hit me.

Recalculate the rate of increase to allow for my different proportions.

Oops.

Frog back to beginning of first stripe and reknit.

At roughly that same point in the stripe pattern it occurred to me that perhaps my arms, and hence, sleeves, might not follow the exact same formula as The Girls.

Recalculate. Yup. Need a slightly different rate of increase on the sleeve side of the raglan seam.

Frog back to the beginning of first stripe and reknit.

I think I have it right now. (Surely hope so.) The good thing is that both yarns seem to accept frogging and reknitting quite well. The steel blue Phildar is particularly indestructible. It is also a bit scratchy, indestructibility and scratchiness seeming to go hand in hand. The merino in the colored stripes is soft and smooth, and I am hoping that there is enough of that surface in the finished sweater that I don't itch to death in it.

For the curious, the rate of increase for my body is 4 stitches in 6 out of every 10 rows. I made myself a little chart to help me remember that:

The rate of increase for the sleeves is 4 stitches every other row, so I am doing the increases on all even-numbered rows.

As long as I don't lose the row counter -- hanging from the needle in the first photo -- I should be golden.

Ice music.

cryingwolf06, December 8, 2009: A lake in Colorado was melting and I've never heard this so I decided to video tape it.

emjaycee1954, December 22, 2006: Sounds of ice expansion on our lake in northern Minnesota.

BufferedBrain, January 28, 2008: The lake ice singing. I put the laptop right out on the ice to record, using iVisit.

kmkat, November 27, 2007: Although it may sound like the wind in the video, the sound was the ice groaning. The day was calm.

2009: That was the year that was.

January.

Well, there was this (bad).

And there was this (good) (from left, Wendy, me, Chris, and Susan).

On the knitting front:


 

February.

Good intentions.

 

Snow and cold.

Knitting:

March.

Winter melted away.

Knitting.

April.

Spring arrived in earnest.

Yarnover.

End of tax season.

Taste of St. Croix.
 

Knitting resumed after tax season.

 

May.

I scored big at Macy's sale racks, I helped Norm go away, I celebrated Mother's Day in an eco-friendly way, the bears and the ticks came out of hibernation, I picked up trash, I enjoyed the Memorial Day weekend, I bid farewell to our local librarian, and Hannibal discovered the joys of catnip.

Knitting was primarily of a stealth nature, but did include scientific swatching and the F'ing of a couple of O's that had been OTN for nearly, and over a year, respectively. (I am rather proud of that sentence -- and its punctuation -- awkward though it may be.)

 

June

June was for knitting and vacation and celebrating that brief magical time that is summer in the north woods.

 

 

Lots of knitting.

 

 

July.

July was for more vacation -- the rest of the one in Wyoming and another on the North Shore.

And summer.
 

And injuries.
 

And knitting.

 

August.

It was a very good month. I turned 60, had a contest, and laughed. We went to a concert.
 

I learned the difference between eagles and turkey vultures, and I had surgery to remove some extra/unneeded bits and pieces and repair that torn cartilage in my knee.
 

Knitknitknit.

 

September.

In September I had lots of cats on the blog, it was my turn to give the prayer at the beginning of the monthly county board meeting, the county budget process blew up, and the most gloriously gorgeous month of the year was here.

 

The knitting, she continued.

 

October.

I became a biker by proxy,

more new-to-me music found its way into my iTunes, and we celebrated 35 years together

by not-camping on Lake Superior.

The kneedles continued to fly.
 
 

November.

The van that took us on some wonderful vacations met up with an unfortunate bear on the road and was replaced by an older but bigger and more customized van.

Cold weather arrived, and once more I cooked and baked.

 

Mostly, though, I knitted.




Apparently I can crank out hats like other knitters crank out... sweaters

December.

I continued to be thankful (there is a lot to be thankful for).

With the help of Matthew and Maggie, I decorated for Christmas. This decorating thing is never a given.

I showed you my ornaments, y'all showed me yours.

 

We ate well.
 

A bit more knitting* for others.

I pretty much finished my Christmas knitting. (Shhh, the Calorimetry is a surprise.)


The medical mittens are still OTN -- stay tuned.

*For someone who doesn't like pink, I sure knit a lot of it lately...

Monday is for ice.

Our lake iced over, or mostly over, four (4!) times before the ice finally stuck. Cold weather moved in last week, the lake froze over, and winter is officially here.

Monday is also for wondering why there are those weird, wandering lines across the ice. They are not snowmobile trails because it is too early for those noisy things -- I would know if they were around.

Thank you, and answers.

It has occurred to me that I ask things of you, my readers; you deliver; and I go on my merry way. So today I sat myself down here with the reminder that my mother raised me better than that.

Thank you!

...for your many ideas to improve the rules for county fair knitting.

...for providing me with the link to the hats for homeless men project in Minneapolis.

 ...for knitting ideas.

 ...for knitting solutions.

...for music new to me.

...for all your good wishes and sympathy during my ankle/surgery/wheel chair/knee/surgery travails in the past year.

...for the good advice on how to have my morning latte while camping w/o electricity ("Thanks a latte!")

...and for a thousand other things, including reading and commenting. You guys are the best!

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Sad day here.

 

WTF?

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Answers to yesterday's quiz. Many of you knew that the second was one of the Great Lakes and several recognized the waters and shore of Lake Superior. But only one reader got even close on the first photo.

1. South Atlantic coast, a few miles north of the Cape of Good Hope, South Africa.

 

Alida, who lives in East London, South Africa, got the first one almost right. She knew it was South Africa but guessed the Indian Ocean coast. So close and yet so far...

2. The North Shore of Lake Superior.

Sparrowgrass, who used to live in northern Minnesota, not only knew that the second photo was Lake Superior but also correctly identified Father Baraga's cross on the hill in the background.