kmkat and her kneedles

Catching up, vol. 5: knitting party at Amy's.

Way back in January Amy had a party for Twin Cities knitters and knitbloggers. I finally put together a post about it.

Sadly for me, I was late getting to the party. Although there was lots of yummy food and drink sitting about, the knitters had finished in the eating arena and had moved to the knitting arena by the time I got there. So I joined them and skipped most of the food, much to my eternal chagrin (although anyone who has seen me knows that I am in no danger of starving to death). I know it was all delicious, Amy, as I fully expected it to be, having drooled over your Friday Food posts for months.



Here is Amy handing out prizes to everyone. Prizes that included Deb's hand-dyed yarn, mmmmm...

From the left, above, we have Connie, Christy (the name of whose blog escapes me at the moment; Christy, sing out in the comments if you are there), and Deb. I think that is Marge whose face is hidden by the prize bag Amy is waving about. At the extreme right you can see a tiny bit of the lovely purple Shetland Triangle worn by Miss T. She insisted that day that her face not be included in any pictures, and I thought I had obliged her when snapping photos. But when I was gathering the photos for this post I found that her lovely face had mysteriously appeared. So I cropped it out. Your secret identity is safe with me, m'dear :)


On the other side of the room are more knitters -- blogless (I think) Deepa, Anne, and Heidi on the couch; Renee, in the red sweater, has a knitting and movie review blog that is a lot of fun. Be sure to check it out.

Most of the rest of the group:

I think that's Guinifer at the bottom with her glasses on top of her head. Shame on me, I didn't get the names (or I have forgotten them, even worse) of the others, even though I chatted with several of them.

The best part of the party, though, was finally getting to meet my new BFF Deb.

Thanks, Amy! Same time next year?

* * * * *

In other catching up news, last Friday night Deb and I (and her daughter Kathryn-who-spells-her-name-like-me) had dinner with Cathy-Cate and The Gothlet, who were in the Twin Cities for the Knit-Out and some family get-togethers. I never expected that knitblogging would so dramatically increase my social life :)

"It's like there's someone missing."

Front page article in Tuesday's Wall Street Journal.

THE DECIDERS
White Men Hold Key for Democrats

Contest May Hinge
On Blue-Collar Vote;
Opening for McCain?

By JONATHAN KAUFMAN
February 19, 2008; Page A1

YOUNGSTOWN, Ohio -- In a Democratic presidential nomination race that pits a black man against a woman, the victor may well be determined by white men.

The working-class white men who toil in the steel mills and auto plants here are part of a volatile cohort that has long helped steer the nation's political course. Once, blue-collar males were the bedrock of Franklin Roosevelt's New Deal coalition. They became "Reagan Democrats," helping to propel Ronald Reagan into office in the 1980s. Bill Clinton won many of them back to the Democratic Party in 1992. Two years later they were "angry white males," resentful of affirmative action and the women's movement, who helped Republicans capture Congress.

Now this group of voters is set to help determine the Democratic nominee, and the next occupant of the White House. Working-class white men make up nearly one-quarter of the electorate, outnumbering African-American and Hispanic voters combined. As the Democratic primary race intensifies, some of these white men are finding it hard to identify with the remaining two candidates, Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton and Sen. Barack Obama.

"It seems like someone else should be there," says Dan Leihgeber, a smelter in a steel plant here, who is supporting Sen. Clinton. "It's like there's someone missing." *

As the Democratic race moves toward primaries in blue-collar strongholds -- today in Wisconsin, Ohio on March 4 and Pennsylvania on April 22 -- the allegiance of blue-collar men is up for grabs. While Sen. Clinton runs strongly among working-class women, she and Sen. Obama are perceived equally favorably among working-class men, according to a January Wall Street Journal/NBC News poll. The two candidates have seesawed among blue-collar men in the primaries: Sen. Clinton won them in Georgia, Missouri and New York, while Sen. Obama captured the working-class male vote in New Hampshire, California, Maryland and Virginia.

Blue-collar men could also emerge as an important swing constituency in November -- either backing the Democrats' eventual nominee, or shifting to some degree toward Sen. John McCain, the presumptive Republican nominee, whose war record and straight-talking approach could make him appealing to many working-class men.

Marc Dann, Ohio's Democratic attorney general, frets about the reluctance of some of these blue-collar Democrats to embrace either of his party's candidates. "I worry about [the appeal of] McCain," says Mr. Dann, who lives in Youngstown. "It's not like watching an episode of Archie Bunker -- but there are real issues" that white male voters here have with Sen. Clinton and Sen. Obama.

Working-class men are generally defined as those without a college degree, including union members and workers with service and technical jobs, typically making less than $50,000 a year. They are especially crucial in Ohio, where they make up about 28% of the vote, as well as other battleground states including Michigan (about 27%), West Virginia (33%), Missouri (27%), Minnesota (27%), Pennsylvania (27%), Wisconsin (29%) and Iowa (34%).

In Youngstown, many working-class men say they will vote according to issues, especially economic ones including health care, free trade and the loss of manufacturing jobs. But in conversations in union halls, bars and factories, race and gender are never far from the surface.

"I don't think the country is ready for a woman president yet," says Duane Tkac, a burly vocational instructor at a prison here and a member of the local branch of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters union. "The country is in too much turmoil. I don't think she can handle the pressure, the terrorists." He plans to vote for Sen. Obama.

Don Pompelia, retired from the Air Force, supports Sen. Clinton. "I'm hoping Hillary gets the nomination. But if she doesn't, I'm not voting for that guy. I'm going Republican," he booms as he picks up his morning coffee at McDonald's. "There are going to be a lot of people crossing over to the Republicans because he's black."

Back Into the Fold

After decades in which Republicans often successfully wooed blue-collar men, many Democrats see 2008 as a chance to bring them back into the fold, motivated by the worsening economy and their disaffection with President Bush. In the 2006 midterm election, union members and other working-class men voted for Democratic candidates by a margin of almost two to one, helping the Democrats win control of Congress.

Youngstown has been battered over the past 30 years by job losses and plant closings. Buoyed by unionized steel jobs that paid as much as $20 an hour, the city once had one of the country's highest per-capita incomes. But as companies have shuttered steel and auto plants, outsourcing jobs to nonunion parts of the country and overseas, the city's population has fallen by 50% since 1960, to about 80,000.

Few young people stay here; the average age at one steel plant is 55. Families survive because women have poured into the work force out of necessity, changing the dynamic within traditionally conservative families where women used to stay at home.

'Poster Child'

"For a lot of blue-collar guys over 40, Hillary Clinton is a poster child for everything about the women's movement that they don't like -- their wife going back to work, their daughters rebelling, the rise of women in the workplace," says Gerald Austin, an Ohio political strategist.

Mr. Leihgeber, the steelworker, says he supports Sen. Clinton for her experience and positions. He carries a book bag to work every day with his lunch and a newspaper inside and a Clinton button pinned to the outside. Some days, he says, he turns the bag around so the Clinton button doesn't show; he says he doesn't like dealing with his co-workers' derogatory comments. Mr. Leihgeber says he wouldn't be heckled so much for an Obama pin.

"People don't want to speak out against Obama because of the fear of being seen as racist," he says. "It's easier to say you want to keep a woman barefoot and pregnant....You can call a woman anything."

In national polls, white men overall have been more favorable than white women toward Sen. Obama. In a survey done in September by Pew Research, white men overall gave Sen. Obama more positive ratings than did white women, in categories including whether he was tough, smart, friendly and honest. In the same categories, white males gave Sen. Clinton consistently lower marks than white women did.

For some women, that confirms that sexism runs deeper than racism among many men. "My mother, who was the first woman lawyer in a big D.C. firm, always said that blacks got in before women," says Caryl Rivers, a professor at Boston University who supports Sen. Clinton. "Then the white guys figured everything had gone to hell anyway, so they might as well let the women in."

In Youngstown, Sen. Obama is seen through the prism of the city's changing racial makeup. Over the years, as Youngstown has become poorer, many whites have moved to surrounding towns and the minority population has increased. The Youngstown area is now one of the most segregated communities in the country, according to the 2000 U.S. Census.

Everyday racial tensions and animosity run high. A white cook at a local bar says he won't bother voting in this election. "What's the point," he says, rubbing his skin. "We're already a minority." **

But for some white men here, Sen. Obama's appeal is that he is different from many black leaders they have seen in the past. "The guys I work with, they know Jesse Jackson and they know Al Sharpton. They call them all sorts of terrible things," says Robert Hagan, a locomotive engineer and a state representative, referring to these politicians' sometimes-inflammatory rhetoric and focus on black causes. "They don't talk about Obama like that."

Those here who dislike Sen. Obama tend to criticize what they call his empty rhetoric, his lack of experience and the fear that he would favor blacks and other minorities.

Many working-class men here say they are being lobbied by their teenage and young adult children to vote for Sen. Obama. And some of the area's newer businesses, such as its growing hospitals and the privately run prison, break down some of the racial and gender barriers found in the mills and auto plants that are still overwhelmingly white and male.

At a Teamsters hall here, a dozen burly men in gabardine jackets and baseball caps gather over coffee and overstuffed donuts for a union meeting of prison workers. "There is a misunderstanding that older white guys aren't going to vote for a black man," says Jim Marcum, a job counselor at the prison. "That's not true." Mr. Marcum says he voted for Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush. This time he plans to vote for Sen. Obama. "He's a breath of fresh air."

Natalie Grant, a black woman who works with Mr. Marcum at the prison, walks in and grabs some coffee.

"You really voting for Obama?" she says.

"Yes," says Mr. Marcum.

Ms. Grant laughs. "I knew there was some brother in you," she says. Mr. Marcum smiles.

Three years ago, Youngstown elected its first African-American mayor, Jay Williams, a 36-year-old with little political experience who ran as an independent promising to unite the city. Mr. Williams won with the heavy support of the city's black community -- about 40% of the vote -- but also drew white votes from working-class and college neighborhoods.

"A lot of people thought Youngstown was 20 or 30 years away from this kind of change," says Mr. Williams, who has endorsed Sen. Obama.

Women, too, have made inroads in local politics. In 1994, there were no women elected at the county level, where real power lies. Today, women serve as county commissioner and treasurer, and hold several elected judicial seats.

"We deal with women at work," says John Lesicko, a teamster official. "We deal with HR people. She might be a" -- he raises his hands to form imaginary quote marks and silently mouths a slur -- "but we deal with her."

Leaning Toward Clinton

Across town, 14 steelworkers brought together to talk about the election say they predominantly supported Sen. John Edwards before he dropped out of the race. Now 13 of them say they are leaning toward Sen. Clinton. They praise her experience and toughness in withstanding the Monica Lewinsky scandal. Former President Bill Clinton remains enormously popular here, with many blue-collar men saying that they like the fact that he would be in the White House as well.

"I think she has the right person in the bedroom with her," says Joe Marion, who works at the local prison.

Betty Ingramn doesn't buy it. The lone African-American in the room full of steelworkers, she works as a secretary in the steel mill and is the head of the clerical workers union.

"It's a race thing," she says of her colleagues' support for Sen. Clinton. "They can't handle it, an African-American being over them." As an African-American union official, Ms. Ingramn says she has battled constantly to be included in meetings and decisions.

Both Sen. Clinton's and Sen. Obama's campaigns say race and gender shouldn't be a consideration, and that they are targeting blue-collar voters with appeals to economic issues that hit working-class families.

"Some may call this the 'rust belt,' but that's not what I see," Sen. Clinton said in a visit to the General Motors plant here last week. "I see some of the hardest workers in the world. I see great universities and strong communities. I see a 21st-century manufacturing belt. An innovation belt. An opportunity belt."

Sen. Obama, in a visit to a GM plant in Wisconsin, similarly laid out plans to help workers and create jobs. "I won't stand here and tell you that we can -- or should -- stop free trade. We can't stop every job from going overseas," he said. "But I also won't stand here and accept an America where we do nothing to help American workers who have lost jobs and opportunities because of these trade agreements."

The real test will come in November.

"I think if we nominate one of these two, we are talking about McCain as president," says Bob Rodkey, a firefighter who doesn't like either candidate but plans to vote for Sen. Clinton in the primary. "I talk to a lot of my Democratic friends and they are going to cross over in November or not vote at all. We don't have a viable candidate. Neither of them is one of us."

Mr. Rodkey says he will vote for a Democrat in the fall. He plans to urge his friends to do the same. "Hopefully they will listen to the message, and not who's delivering it," he says.

* Somebody is missing? Gee, do you mean the white guy(s) who pretty much ran the world for the last 500+ years? That guy? Yeah, it's a real bummer he might have to share the power.

** You are a minority? You mean like the half of the U.S. population that didn't get the right to vote until 1920? Or the minority that required three constitutional amendments, plus another hundred years of denial of their rights, before they gained free access to the polls? You mean that kind of minority? Yeah, right, bro.

*** Not one of you? What, we are not all human? We are not all Americans?

Sheesh, some people make me so mad I just have to laugh.

We don't see this much.

Pictured below is the footwear worn by the stylish companion of Miriam from the Netherlands, one of the contestants in the World's Fastest Knitting Competition that I blogged about on Sunday. It is difficult to tell because of the angle of the shot, but that shoe was about 18" long, all of the excess length in that extreme pointed toe.

We don't often see shoes like this in Minneapolis. In fact, we seldom see much beyond parkas and scarves and snowboots. It's good to know that fashion is alive and well elsewhere.

Knit-Out @ Mall of America: an eyewitness report.

Film at 11. No, wait, there's video below. Keep reading.

When one goes to the MoA on a Saturday afternoon, one ends up parking on the topmost level of the parking ramp, which gives one the unexpected benefit of some nice camera angles when one reaches the rotunda, where the Knit-Out was happening.

The publicity for this event all talks about how there were 50,000 people attending the Knit- & Crochet-Out. Do not believe it. The rotunda was more crowded later than it was in the above photo, but 50,000? In your dreams nightmares. There may have been 50,000 people in and out of the Mall on Saturday, but I think the knitters and crocheters numbered somewhere between 500 and 5,000.

On stage at the moment of the above photo, about 3 p.m., was an assortment of local knitters competing in a speed-knitting contest. Someone had alerted the media.

The winner of this heat was our own local-since-last-year Annie Modesitt, shown here whippin' out the knittin' at 172 stitches in three minutes. She was blazin'!

Earlier there had been demonstrations and giveaways in various locations around the mall, but I had to work earlier in the day so I missed all that.

But I was there for (ta da!) the World's Fastest Knitter competition.

This lady, Miriam from the Netherlands, held one of the previous titles:

The lovely woman at her left in the stunning hand-knit shawl is The Domiknitrix.

Apparently there is more than one fastest-knitter-in-the-world title. Here is Miriam's, being displayed above:

I was lucky enough to be sitting next to a woman who knew a lot about this stuff. She is an author from Ithaca, NY, and is writing a book called Wound Up about various over-the-top things that knitters do. The book will be published next year; she told me who the publisher is, but the rotunda was noisy and I didn't catch it. Tragically I didn't get her name, either. Whoever you were, ma'm, I am indebted to you for your knowledge and enthusiasm and willingness to share.

She told me that the title of fastest knitter on the planet varies, depending on whether the contest is based on knitting garter stitch or stockinette or something else. The certificate above doesn't specify, but I think she said it was for stockinette. The contest I am about to describe featured garter stitch, done with "...size 4 yarn..." Neither I nor any of the knitters around me knew what that was. Since then the internets have informed me that size 4 yarn = worsted weight. Okay, whatevs.

The contestants:

 

 

(clockwise from upper left) Adrienne (or something like that) from France; Lisa, representing the US but originally from Germany; Hazel, from the Shetland Islands and representing the UK; the aforementioned Miriam from the Netherlands; and Juanita Wannietta (Wan-ee-ta) Prescod from Canada. Notice Juanita's Wannietta's earbuds; they will be important later.

I learned there are certain procedures that are de rigeur for a speed-knitter.

Unwind a suitable length of yarn, being sure to eliminate any potential tangles:

 

Those sweet ankle warmers and prim feet at right belong to Lisa, from the US/Germany.

Apply the hand lotion:

Don't want no snaggin' on the yarn.

Okay. It's time. Three heats, each one three minutes long.

.

Ready! Set! Go!

Truly, the needles were a'flyin'! You are not going to believe these videos.

* * * * *

ARGGHHHH! My computer is giving me fits. Even though I can see the videos in iPhoto and watch them in QuickTime, I cannot find the files on my hard drive. I'll put up this post and continue to futz around. Wish me luck.

ETA: I give up. But here is a video I found on YouTube of Hazel. Watch and be amazed.

Oh, remember Juanita Wannietta's ear buds? Apparently she cranks up the music when she speed-knits because she was rockin' out in her chair while she competed. She was fun to watch.

* * * * *

In the meantime, here are a few other shots from yesterday.

The folks overlooking the action in the rotunda.

Wait! What is that woman in the red jacket in the center doing?

Yeah, you guessed it.

Hazel from the Shetland Isles, who won the competition handily. Hah! Get it? Handily?

Her husband handed her the Scottish flag. The clock -- plus, of course, world-wide bragging rights -- was her prize for winning the competition.

Her knitting speed? 240+ stitches in each of the first two heats, faster than anyone else in those heats, and 260+ stitches in the third. The other knitters' speeds in the three heats ranged from 170+ (Adrienne) to 240+ (Miriam, maybe others). Hazel blew them out of the water.

Four of the five competitors used straight needles; one, Lisa of the US/Germany, used a circular. Interestingly but probably not surprisingly, the four straight-needle knitters each wedged her right needle somewhere -- under an arm, in the crotch, in the crease between her leg and groin. I seem to remember the Yarn Harlot mentioning that she uses that first position, having been taught by her grandmother, who was a production knitter.

I could not tell easily whether each knitter was a picker or a thrower because their hands and fingers made such tiny movements. (After studying my photos I see that Adrienne from France was a thrower and that Lisa from the US/Germany was definitely a picker.) Each knitter confined her movements to about two cubic inches of space. No extraneous motions. Astonishing.

The author had chatted with Hazel and shared some of what she had learned. Hazel started knitting at age 7 or 8 and began knitting for money at age 15. She told my author that none of the young people in the Shetlands are interested in Shetland-style knitting; the only people who still know how to do it are over 50 (like her) or over 70 (more commonly). These women are national treasures who won't be around much longer.

The husband of Hazel the Winner Miriam Tegels, the speedknitter from the Netherlands, was wearing a lovely Fair Isle sweater that she had knitted for him.

Probably took her about 30 seconds.

C is for...

 

There is no excuse to be sleepy at work.

If I am feeling extravagant in the morning, or a colleague and I are in need of a mid-afternoon break, we have our choice of nearby caffeinated establishments.

 

 

 

Those are just the places within 90 seconds of my desk. I swear there is a coffee shop in every building downtown.

At home in Wisconsin I have a little Krups espresso maker with which I brew myself a grande latte every morning. My version is roughly equivalent to a Starbuck's nonfat quad grande latte (quad = two extra shots). But I am such a plebian; my milk gets hotted up in the microwave, not frothed.

The Kat™ after her morning coffee: 8-)

This coffee shop is popular with the folks in my office.

 

After I took that photo, I turned 180 degrees and took this one:

 

For some unknown reason most of the folks in my office walk right past this Starbucks to go to the Caribou that is 20 feet farther away and down four steps. Maybe these accountants are rebelling against megacorporations? Maybe because Caribou is a local franchise? Just one of those unexplained phenomena that bedevil us at 2 a.m. when we can't sleep..

All those coffee palaces are after I get to work. On my way to the freeway every morning I pass this one (recognize it, Dale-Harriet?)

 

I also pass a Starbucks that is even closer to my house, but I didn't think to get a photo. You'll just have to imagine a corner Starbuck's in the Lynnhurst neighborhood of south Minneapolis.

And now it is time to get busy.

 

Eye candy Friday.

 

Thanks to Cursing Mama for the quote. And some unknown artist for the picture*.

* Scanned from a book of cat art from the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC.

Laughing all the way to the bank office.

Commuting is not the favorite sport of The Kat™. Driving is okay; I like to drive. Riding is better, of course, because it allows for the knitting, but one cannot always ride. Sometimes one is forced to be pilot, navigator, and Occupant In Charge Of The Radio And Heater, all rolled into one. Oftentimes the occasion for being forced into such an arduous role is the necessity of getting oneself to the place where, glory be to FSM, one is paid just for showing up and twiddling numbers for a few hours.

In other words, I have been driving myself to work for the past week and a half.

Others may rail against the accursed and demented drivers they encounter on their daily commute. Still others may glorify that concept called Work From Home Wednesday. Not for me the cursing nor the working in pjs; no, The Kat™ serenely navigates the traffic and courageously weathers the elements in order that people who live in various attractive venues around the world and have way more money than might be good for them can rest assured that their tax returns will be correct, elegant, and done on time.

Last week was my first week back at work, and so it involved a certain amount of settling in: moving the box of office stuff from home back to my cube, unpacking and installing all the accoutrements of cube life -- pictures, back massager, fan, Ikea vases, radio, handy snacks, various mugs and insulated tumblers. One of the necessities was to purchase a bus pass so that I might consider myself honorable and righteous and Green, but for some reason I didn't accomplish this until Thursday. Since I leave directly from the office on Friday afternoon to drive back home to WI, taking the bus the next day was right out.

But I was looking forward to beginning my bus commutes this week. The morning ride, on the express bus, is almost too short to bother getting out my knitting (although I always do it anyway). But after work the last express bus leaves at 5:10, and no tax accountant in the known universe can leave work every day during tax season at 5 p.m. (Right, Carrie?) I shall take the local bus home -- that's about 45 minutes of excellent knitting time, w00t.

And then fate intervened.

I told you last year about all the little things they do at work to keep us entertained and racing happily on our little treadmills: dinner brought in on Wednesday nights, happy hour every Friday afternoon, contests, a multitude of drawings for little and not-so-little prizes. Last year I won a firm-logo-adorned brush to clean my monitor (again, w00t), a snazzy highlighter with integrated post-its (Be still my heart!), and a $50 gift certificate good anywhere Visa is accepted (Yes!! Now we're talkin'!).

My luck continues to hold. Last Friday I won free parking in our [downtown Minneapolis] building for this week. Hee hee! Valet parking! For a week!! I feel just like... a partner in the firm. They all park there.

Frankly, though, I had mixed feelings about the whole thing. First, I was gonna start my bussing-to-be-green-and-knit campaign this week; now, I continue to burn gas and clog the freeway. Second, when I do drive I park in the ramp next door to our building, so valet parking in the basement doesn't really save me any time (although it certainly is cheaper than the $11/day I'd pay next door!) -- in fact, it probably takes me longer to leave at night because the exit dumps me on a one-lane, one-way street that is permanently backed up with traffic and that goes the wrong way and so takes me way out of my way through downtown. Third, and worst of all, it eliminated that 45-minute bus ride at the end of the day when I was going to knit ::pout::

Stop grumbling, Kat™, it's unseemly.

But something happened this morning that made me smile. I handed my keys to the valet and he handed me this:

 

* * * * *

But that lovely rose has gone to a better place -- the desk of a co-worker who just stopped in my cube to show me the first ultrasound of her baby-in-waiting. She's been worried since her first prenatal appointment three weeks ago when the midwife couldn't hear the baby's heartbeat, so worried she hadn't revealed her pregnancy to anyone else at work except me. Today she is just... glowing. So I gave her the rose. She deserved it. And she got the best Valentine's Day present one could hope for.

En Esch has something to say.

From today's Minneapolis Tribune: Knit-Out @ MoA next weekend!

 

Thousands caught hook, needle and skein
KIM ODE, Star Tribune
Last update: February 11, 2008 - 10:40 PM

The knitters are coming back inside again. For years, the Craft Yarn Council of America hosted "knit-outs" in urban parks nationwide, attracting thousands of people who knitted and purled beneath trees, beside lakes, under clouds. Last year, they wanted to come to Minnesota, in February, so they had their first indoor event at the Mall of America, hoping for the best.

Estimated attendance: 50,000.

"We were so delighted," said Mary Colucci, the council's executive director. "We taught 1,200 people how to knit and crochet."

Knit-Out & Crochet returns to the MOA this weekend with celebrities, authors and instructors. And more: the international finals for the fastest knitter and crocheter, pitting the current world's fastest crocheter, Lisa Gentry of the United States, against the world's fast knitter, Miriam Tegels of the Netherlands, whose record is 118 stitches in one minute. "You can't even see their fingers; you just see fabric emerging," Colucci said. Gentry wants both titles. There will be blood.

Just kidding.

There will, however, be lots of needles, skeins, hooks and looms. There will be discussions about felting and wrist strain, the construction of wash mittens and bobbles. There will be a Dog Gone Cute & Crazy Fashion Show, and also one for kids similarly described.

The marquee guests include Debbie Macomber, a bestselling author of romantic novels known for setting her books in yarn shops or writing about knitting groups, and Vickie Howell, author and host of the DIY Network's Knitty Gritty series. (Check out the full weekend schedule at www.knit-out.com.)

Colucci said that for all the talk of the knitting "trend," it's really an affirmation of a generations-old craft that had waned. "We brought back a lot of older women who thought it had become tacky, who saw the newer yarn designs and were amazed," she said.

Younger knitters were swayed by the sight of Julia Roberts or Cameron Diaz happily knitting on TV programs or in People magazine, as well as by the forthrightly named "Stitch 'n' Bitch" clubs.

Teen knitters actually constitute the title of a current book, "Microtrends" by Mark Penn and E. Kinney Zalesne (Twelve, $25.99). Penn writes that needlework is beating back the old image of fuddy-duddy reclusiveness, instead stating that "knitting is like MySpace, with groups gathering to do it communally." Knitting, like video games, offers the chance to take on increasingly harder challenges, he said. Colucci agreed, noting how teens avidly take on ever-more-intricate patterns.

But all ages point out the relaxing nature of knitting and crocheting, how the repetitive stitches ease the stress of a day -- or a life.

Colucci said that interest in knitting soared after Sept. 11. "It just made everybody stop in their tracks and say, 'How am I going to spend my time, and what am I going to spend it on?'"

Kim Ode • 612-673-7185

* * * * *

Wouldn't you think they could have found a better photo for this article than a ball of Knit-Cro-Sheen? But to her credit, the author of the article never mentioned grannies.

Great Frozen North, redux (again).

I spotted this sign on Sunday afternoon on Main Street in Luck, the little town north of us.

The sign was next to this.

 

I wonder if the ice palace is lit from within like the ones that grace the St. Paul Winter Carnival on select years. Probably not; St. Paul has around 280,000 residents, and Luck has about 1,200.

Still, I wish I could have watched when the good people of Luck were building it. Did people make the ice blocks in their home freezers, or did the local butcher shop offer the use of their walk-in freezer? Who assembled the blocks? Did the village hire professionals, or was it a community event, with beer in the streets and a cherry picker for the upper levels and everyone in town offering advice? Or was it accomplished by a dedicated team of local ice nerds fantasizing their previously unknown architectural talents, who held meetings and drew plans and built scale models and argued about buttresses and fanciful colored ice? And how many times did they have to put that cross on top before it stayed?

The Great Frozen North, redux.

My WI deck, 8:30 a.m., Sunday, February 10:

Time to send the slave #2 son out to blow the snow that fell yesterday and last week. Our driveway is 300+ feet long. Happily, he only had to blow away 1-2" of snow. A walk in the park, really.

I thought he was signaling OK, meaning he was all bundled up and ready to attack the driveway. Turns out he was throwing a gang sign, a "b" for Bloods.

A while later he looked like this:

Let's have a close-up of that face.

This is actually pretty mild. Smokey, who seldom wears a face mask, used to get some really, really impressive icicles in his beard and mustache back in the day when he was Head Snow Blower. Remember Dr. Zhivago? Yeah, those kind of beard and mustache icicles. But Smokey is in Minneapolis right now, and besides, what good is having a teenage boy around if you can't send him to do the cold nasty work you don't want to do yourself?

I didn't really say that, did I?

So.

Anyway.

The photos above show how #2 minimized the amount of exposed skin that would be subject to potential frostbite while he blew the snow for about hour.

This is how he accomplished same when he was loading stuff into his van in preparation for driving to Minneapolis to clean up the sewer backup in the basement of that house. (see "benefit of having teenage boy," above; we do pay him for this stuff, though, we aren't completely heartless)

After that photo he obligingly showed threw me the full gang sign.

Yes, that spells "blood." Why an upstanding boy from rural Wisconsin should know that is something I prefer not to explore.

This, however, is a gang sign we all should know. And use.

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As I was readying this post for publication I realized that I need to knit a hat with attached face mask, maybe from some nice mid-weight STR -- soft, washable, super warm, fun to knit. Really, if it is cold enough to need a face mask, how can one send acrylic to do wool's job?

Eye candy Friday.

The island in our lake, taken on 12/30/07, the day we started the aerator.

Quote for the day.

Many thanks to Cursing Mama for this sentiment, which she expressed in an e-mail exchange. I printed it and hung it on the wall of my cubicle. It completely encapsulates the character of so many things -- accounting, computers, knitting, life...

Random Wednesday.

It's the first week of February, ergo, I am wearing my CPA green eyeshade once again. The people I work with tell me that it is a mixed blessing to see me again every year. They very kindly say it is good to have me back, but it also makes it officially Busy Season. Ouch.

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Andrew's laptop. Tell us what you really think, Andrew.

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Does Your English Cut the Mustard?

Not quite as well-educated as I thunk:

Your English Skills:

Vocabulary: 100% Grammar: 80% Punctuation: 80% Spelling: 60%

Thanks to Cursing Mama for the link. And thank FSM for spell-check.

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The dog blanket that Amy asked me to knit for the Rolling Dog Ranch Animal Sanctuary has been my mindless knitting since I finished the preemie caps. An unexpected benefit of the Mason-Dixon ballband dishcloth pattern as interpreted in double-stranded acrylic is that the resulting objet d'knit is thick and squishy, just like a cushion. Perfect for a pooch's nap.

When finished it will be ~30" square; it's about half done now. Smokey has remarked that our dogs each need a blanket like that. To paraphrase EZ the Great, another opportunity to do more of our favorite hobby.

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Bonus Tuesday post: from today's e-mails

Frozen Grand Central

The Victim: Passersby and staff at Grand Central Station in New York City.

The Pranksters: The folks at

Improv Everywhere who brought you the shirtless shopping extravaganza at Abercrombie & Fitch not long ago organized their best mass prank yet. They gathered over 200 people and asked them to freeze in place on cue. We are impressed at how professional all of the pranksters acted -- no one moved or laughed.

If It Happened to Us: We'd think that they were filming an episode of Heroes.

He's gone.

Andrew flew out 6 am Sunday morning. He was here for three weeks, a week longer than originally planned because he caught a cold and wanted to recover and he was enjoying himself here and he didn't need to get back right away; so he gave up a week of sightseeing in Mexico to spend the time with us instead. Say it with me now: awwwww.

I've told you about our visit to Chicago to visit his aunt and uncle. He also spoke at the local library about the Zapatistas and Chiapas and what he is doing there. The total of nearly 20 people was a very good turnout for our little library.

He will be in Chiapas until mid-April, then home -- or possibly traveling to see friends around the US and the world -- until June, when he goes back to New York to start med [summer] school.

When Andrew was in Chiapas, eating beans and tortillas and on special days rice, he lost a pound every 64 hours for 2-1/2 months. As part of our parental obligation we fed him well while he was home.

Vegetarians, look away. This photo even grosses me out.

From the left, that's three New York strip steaks, four T-bones, and six Porterhouses. Smokey hit a sale on steak at the grocery store, this was all <$6/pound.

Here's how a couple of the Porterhouses looked when grilled.

He said that one of the steaks was at least the equivalent of the amount of meat in the average Chiapan's diet in an entire year. Yeah, we totally used his being home as an excuse to eat huge steaks.

Part of the fun of having steak is that Andrew always makes a huge production out of feeding the fatty scraps to the dogs. They have to work for their treats. First, they must wait politely.

Sometimes he teases the dogs by offering the treat to a cat. Cats, being the cautious types they are, sniff it all over just to be sure we haven't nurtured them and raised them and housed them and paid the vet bills and snuggled them and cleaned their litter boxes all these years just to use this opportunity to poison them.

Bear is an old, old dog. All she has to do to get her treat is to say please. Lucy, however, is required to dance on her hind legs for 10+ seconds and s-t-r-e-t-c-h to get her morsel.

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I'll leave you with some of the funny things people said to Andrew in Chiapas.

Do you wear your hair like that because of your religion?

(On seeing a jet plane way up high in the sky) Where is that plane going? Is it going to Mexico [City]?

How fast do planes walk?

(He asked one of his students if he knew what snow was.) Sure, you buy it at the stand in Ocosiningo. It comes in strawberry and orange and mango.

One of the books in the school referred to ice. The students asked what ice was, and Andrew was at a loss to explain it in terms they could understand. Subtropical climate, no electricity, no freezers.

So he is bringing back these pictures -- ice, frozen lake, snow, pontoon boat*, dock.

 

* I told him to tell them that this is the simplest, cheapest, most bare-bones pontoon boat one can find in the US, to which he added, It still cost $2000. That will blow their minds.

Christmas and job loss.

So after watching for a while to see what you were supposed to do I walked in to find a pareja and dance, and for the first couple seconds it just felt the way dancing normally feels for me, like an unpleasant obligation that never would have been invented if everyone in the world were me. But this time was different: I caused a  panic. When the local girls saw me walking toward the big group of dancers they said "El gringo, el gringo" in high squeaky voices and scooted away en masse. I tried twice with the same result, so then I thought, Hey, now this is mighty fine,  I've just gotten myself a gold-plated Get Out of Dancing Free card, I can't be expected dance if everyone's afraid of me, now can I?

The latest dispatch from Andrew, this one written while he was home for three weeks.

Photo above is of the former airstrip he talks about in the dispatch. Click on the following links to see the chicken heads. (Warning: not for the overly squeamish)

B is for... bleu.

I am addicted to bleu cheese, the tangier the better.

I generally buy a semicircular hunk whenever I am at Sam's Club. It weighs about a pound and costs less than $10. That's a lot of yumminess for not a lot of money.

When there is a chunk of bleu cheese in the fridge, it calls to me when I am reading in bed. Kaaaaaathy! Eat meeeeee! I'm taaasty! With craaackers and wiiine!

With such a strong-tasting cheese, my palate wants a plain cracker. Whole-wheat saltines are my favorite, but Stoned Wheat Thins are also good (and cost about 3x as much). Either red or white wine will do, but red is better, imho.

There have been bloggy indications in the past of my addiction: this post and picture

and this one.

I don't care for bleu cheese dressing, and I seldom use bleu cheese in a recipe, but the other night I made this salad for Andrew and I to eat with our steaks. Romaine, pears, pecans, and bleu cheese with a sweet-ish vinaigrette. Mmmmmm.

After all this arranging and slicing and photoing and thinking of bleu cheese, I had to have a little snack. And tell myself sternly that 2 pm is too early to have a little glass of wine to go with it...

A public service announcement.

Want to see [parts of] the commercials that will air during the Super Bowl tomorrow? Check this out. Some are the entire commercial, some just a teaser. Fun, nevertheless.

(I don't do ASL, my bad, so anyone who wants to interpret this for me, feel free.)

ETA: lime-dragon has kindly interpreted: "Basically, Amy is excited about PepsiCo working with Enable and Deaf people and making a commercial that features a joke well-known in the Deaf community. Oh, I see she added a transcript; you can read it on the youTube page for the video. : )"

This public service announcement has been brought to you by the Council For Better Knitting During Football Games.

Eye candy Friday, the catching up edition.

This is the huge bouquet that was sitting on a high counter in the center of the information booth at the entrance to the Art Institute of Chicago. I don't know if the flowers were real. They certainly looked real. And forsythia -- the long yellow sprays -- are an easily forced late winter/early spring flower. The contrast between the spring-like flowers and the zero-degree air outside the doors just a few feet away was breathtaking.