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Double knitting. For a blanket.
This only works if you are a size 32.
There are so many versions of Daybreak. Here's another one.
A nice little stranded sock pattern.
Nevermore, quoth the raven.
It is difficult to come up with an original afghan pattern. This one is.
KIP bingo.
This is frickin' fabulous.
Found this at, appropriately enough, MadameDafargeKnits.com.
photo credit: dongga BS via photopin cc
Another clarification on the Starbucks/scholarship thing.
Rabbit #1. Rabbit #2. Compare and contrast.
Kevlar was invented by a woman.
Kittehs were... cloned?
I want both of these women as friends so they can text me.
The best TV commercials from 2013.
Anyone have a prepubescent daughter? You need this and this.
I would like to work with Shane.
The best TV catch phrases, part 1 and part 2.
* Extra points if you can sing this to the proper tune.
This is my [former] iPad. Those three playing-card-sized flat black thingies are the batteries. The one on the right? Toast.
Smokey, my I-can-do-anything guy and a former naval electronics technician, ordered a kit online to replace my iPad battery. Battery life had been degrading noticeably in the past couple months, and we thought it worthwhile to try a new battery before springing for a new iPad. He was prying the battery out of the shell -- they are glued in -- when it suddenly there were flying sparks, and the battery burst into flames.
Apparently, lithium-ion batteries are as much fuel as electricity.
Happily, he was not burned, nor did the house catch on fire. When I arrived home from running errands he had several windows open, a fan exhausting the smoke, and the batteries removed from all the smokey detectors.
Now to decide: buy a new iPad just like the old one, except the current model has the retina display? or wait until September when the new iPad Air is released, with a faster processor, iOS 8, and a $100 higher price tag? Younger Son's advice is to go to a store and handle both an iPad and the current iPad Air; then decide if the feel of the lighter one is worth the wait and the $100.
Any advice from the peanut gallery out there? All comments welcome.
On Sunday another woman and I from the local Dem party did campaign and political stuff in the parade in a nearby village.
A magnetic sign on each side of my car. I am Jared's campaign treasurer.
Sign was not necessarily waterproof so we just propped it inside the car.
Ann walked the parade, passing out Jared's campaign flyers while I drove and threw candy out the windows and sunroof. (It had stopped raining during the actual parade.)
Here is what I had blasting from my car:
This was the most fun I have had in years!
Knitting... glass?
This is sooo strange.
Another way in which knitting is therapy.
Reminds me of an array of jewels in a treasure chest.
This looks like something Caitlyn Stark might wear. This, too.
Knitting is good for the brain.
.
photo credit: n.stauffer via photopin cc
Let's see some kittehs. And a few more. Another. One more. Oh, heck, one more.
ICYMI: links from Chris. And more.
The CIA... tweets?
What is described here is just so wrong I cannot even speak.
I may need to try this.
Pro tip for travelers: avoid this airline.
Pro tip for campers: don't do it this way.
Why your earbuds cords are ALWAYS tangled. A couple remedies.
It's a hard "g". More here.
Bribe your kids into eating healthy.
Work at Starbucks, finish your degree for free.
We saw this as we were driving out from the dead end road to which our driveway leads.
This is Mrs.* Painted** Turtle laying her eggs.
In the middle of the road.
Not the most ideal place for baby turtle to hatch. That is, assuming no one drives over the nest and squishes the eggs before they hatch. Painted turtles always lay their eggs in sand. Or gravel, as the case may be. One year she, or one of her distant cousins, laid her eggs at the end of our driveway. So sad.
Push, Mrs. Turtle, push!
::cleansing breath::
Push!
* I know she is a Mrs. because painted turtles are nothing if not conventional.
** You can tell she is a painted turtle because the edge of her salmon-colored underplate plastron is showing. Here is a better view I found on the web:
I have noticed that any number of [non-fiction] books have a premise that would be perfect for a long article or a pamplet*, but which do not warrant an entire book. Not that that stops the pundits and analysts and socio-political commentators from writing them. In that vein, I present any number of my recent thoughts and occurrences that do not warrant an entire blog post but which are perfect for the blog equivalent of a not-book.
* * * * *
We have been taking care of Elder Son's new dog while he is at Bonnaroo. Said dog is bigger (105 pounds) than our own two dogs put together (45 pounds + 55 pounds). This means we are buying twice the amount of dog food and cleaning up twice the amount of poop. This dog's name is, most appropriately, Moose. In the photo at left, he is standing on the floor with his paws on my chair. Notice how I am eye to eye with his collar. When he wants to get on the bed, he doesn't need to jump -- he just walks onto it. Happily, he is a big softie who wants nothing more than a head rub and to be told he is a good doggie. And to be fed.
He also drinks what seems to us to be an incredible amount of water. Smokey and I marvel at how frequently we find ourselves filling the water dish; Elder Son remarks, "Wow, I wonder what his medical term that was gobblety-gook to me rate is?"
Moose was a bed hog the first couple nights after Elder Son left. I would wake up at 3am and find him occupying the entire lower two-thirds of the bed. Then I would discover that moving a 105-pound inert mass of canine was not as easy as I might have hoped. But after rolling him out of his spot those two nights, he seemed to understand that his place was between Smokey and I, not in the place where I wanted my lower body to be.
* * * * *
On Father's Day I saw several gifs and posts about things people were taught by their fathers. My dad was a very shy and insecure man not much given to being a father, although he tried. What he taught me was never to walk on ice with my hands in my pockets. Not exactly a life-altering lesson, but not a bad one, either. It has saved my butt -- and wrists and probably hip -- any number of times.
* * * * *
I was out running errands one sunny day last week and saw four convertibles with their tops down. The next day was stormy and Younger Son reported he saw four accidents on his way here from Minneapolis, one of said accidents requiring an ambulance. Coincidence or enemy action? Hard to say, really.
* * * * *
Haven't done the unconscious mutterings for a while. Time to re-start my tradition, albeit on a different day than before.
* * * * *
I think I mentioned I have been binge-watching House for the past few weeks. His character seems to me to be a medical version of Sherlock Holmes, right down to his affinities for music and drugs. (I realize that this similarity has probably been remarked upon years ago by TV reviewers, but I just noticed it. Never read any reviews of the show when it was new.) Imagine my delight when there was an exterior shot of his townhouse, showing its number: 221B.
Smokey was watching it with me last night and pointed out that the House character also has a lot of similarities to the Doc Martin character in that PBS series. Both are arrogant and abrasive, but other characters put up with them because of their life-saving brilliance.
* * * * *
Smokey had an appointment last week with his ortho's physician assistant to get shots of rooster comb in his knees. This PA is the one who started and did much of the CPR that kept him alive when his heart stopped just before his knee surgery in March. He brought her a bouquet of flowers at this appointment. She was quite touched. I told him he should bring her flower at every appointment from now until the end of time. She is our hero.
* Does anyone besides the Jehovah's Witnesses write pamphlets any more? Save some trees! Bring back the pamphlet! I say.
Bouquet photo credit: anne arnould via photopin cc
photo credit: Patrick Q via photopin cc
We are defined by our knitting.
Dood.
No one is born knowing how to knit.
I am dazzled by the possibilities of this design.
Yarn bombing across from the Fargo Theatre.
These socks would be fun to reverse engineer.
I think this is a great idea, although I might have structured it a bit differently. Love that last photograph.
Let's celebrate Flag Day... not.
The wild geraniums are blooming along the roadsides here.
A closer look.
The hardy geraniums in my garden. Notice how well they are blooming. Not.
My hardy geraniums and their neighbors, labeled. You know how you never notice
the wonky stitch until you photograph your objet d'knit? Same with the weeds.
* * * * *
To keep you from being too impressed with my camera skills.
The view from the iPod/Phone holder on my dashboard.
Do not ask why I have a photo of it. I know not.
* * * * *
As long as we are looking at things that are green, let me show you another. I have been knitting a gift from some Black Bunny Fibers suri alpaca/merino fingering weight yarn I won from Webs back in...
:::much searching of blog and Ravelry:::
The long delay in using it was due solely to my thinking it not suitable for socks but not having another idea for it. Luscious stuff, but I don't have enough green in my wardrobe (yet!) to justify a scarf or cowl for myself. So it was with great joy that I chose it for this particular project, the recipient of which specified blues or greens.
I am not going to give you a full viewing of the FO today, though; you will only get to see my yarn-carrying hand.
Need to give that FO a good vinegar bath before gifting it.
* I am so damned clever with searching out the html.
photo credit: MTSOfan via photopin cc
Words of wisdom from J.K. Rowling. via Chris
Detroit goes back to nature.
Calvin and Hobbes cartoonist secretly returns. The backstory.
A little something for math nerds.
Widespread toilet use = better child mortality.
A Tumblr about rainbows.
A bumper sticker for the ages.
Two words: lawn dinosaur.
Australia regulates everything.
.
The Kat™ to hackers: Get a legitimate job already! Quit messing with our internetz!
Rays of yarn!
Wikipedia on knitting.
Hypnosis to overcome your knitting fears.
This is... interesting. Here is how it works (scroll down to the 15th photo).
I love this.
And this.
It's all fun and games until...
This is our motto, right? Right?!?
Problems? He ain't got no problem (with yarn).
I love that she made a gif (I use the hard "g") of her sweater progress.
Waddiya mean, you gotta baby and you don't have time to knit/crochet?
Starry night socks, meet starry night yarn.
.
I think I mentioned that Younger Son started a new job last November with a small company that designs, builds, and installs storage network systems, specializing in the media and entertainment industry. Companies like Netflix and HBO have huge storage needs. (One or both of those may even be clients. I don't remember.)
He has progressed from being the tech flunkie to doing solo installs around the US, lately in both LA and DC. Proud mom here.
Anyway.
Back when he was a wee young thing helping Smokey fix our cars or install the wiring in our addition, he had no interest in the aethetics of the operation. Smoke tried to impress upon him the value of tidy wiring: easier to troubleshoot if there is a problem, easier to upgrade if necessary, and generally just all-around better. YS was having none of it. Just get 'er done was his motto.
Some of that fatherly advice may have embedded itself in the youthful brain, however, because in recent years YS has demonstrated his belief in tidy wiring. There was the time he installed the magical electronic thingie wall-mount patch panel to clean up our internet router nook. And the time he cleaned up the cables in the server room at his old job.
Observe the progression.
Why, yes, he DID send me photos of the whole process.
On a visit a couple months ago he told us how cable management has become a bit of an obsession with him. Beyond just tidying up the cables, he has been researching new and improved ways of doing it.
The cable in the photos above are secured with cable ties, a modern invention. Back in the day cables were held in bundles with a particular kind of waxed string. When YS found out that Smokey had nearly an entire humungous spool of it left over from his days in the Navy as an electronics technician, he was in awe, especially when Smokey let his have nearly the entire spool.
This is the small spool he wound off to leave with his dad.
Did you know there are two schools of cable lacing, using either the Chicago stitch or the Kansas City stitch? Did you know Wikipedia has an entry on cable lacing?
He is fully aware that cable management as an obsession is laughable, and he laughs at himself for obsessing about it. But that does not dampen his enthusiasm for it.
I told you all that to tell you about what I got him for his birthday.
After he got it he sent us this photo of his latest creation.
Success!
photo credit: EraPhernalia Vintage . . . (playin' hook-y ;o) via photopin cc*
Remember this, about woman's campaign to get Turkish men to stop streading their legs in public? Try this.
Wisconsin family opens 50-year-old fallout shelter in their yard.
Never let your friends label your moving boxes.
Bill Murray is one crazy guy. Click on the little arrows at side of image.
Want to know why Wisconsin has so many DUIs?
Speaking of drinking coffee... (When he was an undergrad at NYU, Elder Son told me about a game students would play, which I think they called "Bucking". They would go to a Starbucks, buy something, then walk out the door and go to the next Starbucks in view. The game could go on for hours.)
The truth about insect repellent.
The most adorable thing you will see this weekend.
Best use of a Kit Kat evah.
Best e-mail exchange EVAH.
Da Bears have a positive effect on the crime rate. lower crime rate during the game.
"The dependence on men...is ridiculous. When they are at hand, make them useful..."
A link from Elder Son.
* This is one of the photos that came up when I searched for "tanning links". Before that I had searched for "melanoma links" and all the photos were of plants and flowers and green fruit. What is this world coming to?
One thing that happens when Elder Son is home is that when I do the laundry I get to see what interesting t-shirts have been added to his wardrobe. Since last week's laundry contained everything from the two-week road trip, plus presumably everything he had worn in the previous month, I got to see a lot of t-shirts.
If you thought he might have forgotten his leftie roots because he graduated from a fancy-schmancy East Coast medical school on Fifth Avenue on the Upper East Side of NYC, may I present Exhibit 1 (the shirt's strange grammar notwithstanding)?
Exhibit 2:
Also:
And then there was this:
As you read this, I am attending for the first time the state Democratic convention. This is a new experience for me, and yes, I am bringing my knitting.
I declared, back in January 2013, that I would not buy any yarn EVER until I had knitted down my stash to a level wherein it contained only random onesie-twosie balls of yarn. Although I have not been completely faithful to that resolution, having purchased a skein of laceweight mink yarn at Yarnover 2013 and several skeins of DK to go with stash yarn and make a promised baby sweater, I feel I have done pretty well. Oh, yes, there were those 17 balls of red Gedifra wool cotton from I bought from Cara's destash to make the Fairfield sweater. But I started it immediately; the yarn never really hit the stash. As if that matters...
Otherwise, using stash yarn, I have made:
In reviewing that list, I see that it is easier to knit up one- or two-skein projects than it is an entire sweaters' worth of yarn. Big surprise there, no?
My latest stash project is this:
What is it? It is this:
...which can be worn an number of ways:
No, your eyes are not going bad. Several of those photos are distinctly blurry; it is really hard to focus on Kid Silk Haze, aka Crack For Knitters.
Pattern: Mohair Bias Loop by Churchmouse Yarn & Teas.
Yarn: Rowan Kid Silk Haze, color 5221 Meadow; 302 yds in stash.
Needle: Knitter's Pride Bamboo US#11 circ.
Notes: The pattern calls for 350 yards, but I had only 302. To compensate, I used a needle one size larger than called for in the pattern and cast on 72 st instead of 84. The cowl is almost big enough to wear around my shoulders as shown on the Rav pattern page. Kym made this cowl a couple-four years ago, and I was fascinated by the idea that she could wear it around her shoulders. Knowing that I had about a skein and a half in the stash, I resolved I would make it... someday.
The Yarn Harlot calls KSH "crack for knitters", and I can see what she means. This stuff is light as air, soft as a kitten, and knits up into a delightfully warm garment. When I started the cowl, I was a bit skeptical about knitting with a yarn roughly the same diameter as [thin] sewing thread. But I got used to it -- even Kitchenering the stitches together at the end went smoothly! -- and I love the finished product.
