kmkat and her kneedles

Sunday random.

1. Waste :: excess.
2. Excess :: baggage.
3. Play :: -book.
4. Heartbreak :: Hotel.
5. Purchase :: ebook.
6. Fear :: Aggression.
7. Ages 2+ :: toddlers.
8. Conform :: clay.
9. Reduced :: calorie.
10. Change :: the oil.

* * * * *

Younger Son's new phone, a Sony something, does tricks.
My phone did something similar, but for a much shorter time.

* * * * *

I don't think I ever showed you one of my adventures during the yarn-caking marathon. I had read on Ravelry that Zauberball was impossible to pull from the center without massive tangles, so I pulled from the outside.

It was not entirely successful, although by the third ball -- I think this one was the second --
I had figured out how to minimize the tangles.

* * * * *

I took a class on brioche stitch from Mercedes Tarasovich-Clark at Yarnover this year. Of the 20 or so people in class, nearly everyone had attempted brioche before ::raises hand:: but were unable to master it from a book/handout/pattern. ::nods sheepishly:: 

The class was an excellent idea for all of us. We found that brioche stitch is easy and that the knitter develops a rhythm with it after a bit, just like ribbing. 

The two swatches I made during class.

On the way to Yarnover that morning, I suddenly remember that I had left the two balls of required worsted weight yarn on the seat of a different car. Oh well, I thought, I can probably mooch some yarn off someone else in the class. People always bring more yarn than they need.

When I walked into the Yarnover venue, which was filled with yarn vendors, I had a good chuckle at myself. Gee, do you suppose I can find some yarn here?

Actually, it was not as easy as I first thought. Most vendors bring lace- and fingering-weight yarn and/or fiber. I was more than halfway through the place before I found some worsted weight.

 
What you cannot see in the photos is the wonderfully woolly-but-soft-squishy texture of the yarn. 
50% CVM/30% alpaca/20% angora, oh my!

I bought the one on the left first, but after the class I went back to buy the second, contrasting one. They are in the process of becoming a cowl that is a larger version of white and green swatch. The best way to cement a new stitch is to make something immediately to get the process into muscle memory.

* * * * *

 

Sunday, silly -- and random -- Sunday.

I started this post several weeks ago. You get to read my Unconscious Mutterings (or not) as I catch up.

1. Language :: teacher.
2. Obvious :: -ly.
3. Skull :: -duggery.
4. Insidious :: sneaky.
5. Struggle:: class warfare.
6. Unspeakable :: mysteries.
7. Orchid :: fuschia.
8. Fish :: oil.
9. Annoyingly :: patronizing.
10. Payroll :: tax. The tax accountant scores!

1. Astrology :: utter crap.
2. Funeral :: black.
3. Candor :: refreshing.
4. Dynamic :: IP address.
5. Oh my god! :: O.M.F.G.
6. Cancer :: Aries.
7. Ross :: Perot.
8. Heroes :: TV.
9. Rachaell :: Friends.
10. Effortlessly :: aahhh!

1. Greatness :: Grand Canyon.
2. Struggling :: underway.
3. Noise :: white.
4. Doorway :: to happiness.
5. Soap :: in the eyes.
6. Cancer :: ewww.
7. Sipping :: coke.
8. Stacks :: computers.
9. Perfect :: cake.
10. Test :: run.

* * * * *

Things you might have overheard at our house recently:

Smokey, reading the answers to an online trivia quiz: The marine creature that has no bones is, yes, the shark, just as we said.

Kathy: Neither does ice cream!

Smokey: ...

 

Younger Son: Me and Daryl* are  gonna be going to Kuala Lumpur for two weeks!

Kathy and Smokey, who had just last evening had a discussion about whether the Petronus Towers in Kuala Lumpur were the tallest man-made structure(s) in the world: Will you be going into the Petronus Towers?

Younger Son: There is no such thing as the Patronus Towers. A Patronus is summoned by the, um,... patronus...

Kathy: ...spell?

Younger Son: Yes.

Younger Son, after hearing the backstory of the Petronus Towers reference: Okay, but the tallest man-made structure is still Mt. Everest.

* Daryl is his boss. And, yes, Younger Son DOES know proper grammar, he just doesn't bother to use it all the time. 

* * * * *

Elder Son had to get an actual mailbox at his house. There was a mail slot in the door and he hung a bag inside to catch the mail before Moose The Ginormous Dog could trample it, but he was getting SO MUCH MAIL FROM BIG PHARMACEUTICAL COMPANIES INVITING HIM TO FREE CONFERENCES IN TAHITI that it overflowed the bag.

And that is why my prescriptions today cost me $97.13.

* * * * *

It may be SuperBowl Sunday, but we may or may not watch. It's just a bunch of overpaid, over-ego-ed, over-steroided, wife- and child-abusers running around after a funny-shaped ball.

Not that I am stereotyping them, no.

* * * * *

I went into the Twin Cities on Friday and Saturday: got my eyes checked, ordered new glasses, had dinner with soxanne, knit with the Knit Night Orphans at Starbucks, stayed overnight, packed many boxes of stuff from our bedroom at the rental house, had Younger Son carry them to my car, and came home. Now that neither Smokey nor I work in Minneapolis any more, we will rent out the third bedroom in that house. By a stroke of luck, my friend Julie's son was looking for a place to live right when we decided to rent it. The bed and dresser and desk and bookshelf will have to stay there until spring, but we are busily emptying the rest of our stuff out of the room. 

ETA: Younger Son brought up another load of stuff on Saturday, including the LazyBoy rocker. He said that when he moved the chair he found a circ and a crochet hook under it. Funny there were no stitch markers; I seem to move through the world strewing them wherever I go.

On a slightly related note, did you know that a person can pay their rent via PayPal? Welcome to the future!

 

 

 

 

 

Navel and foot gazing.

1. Note :: -worthy.
2. 2015 :: year of the cat.
3. Earlobe :: pierced.
4. Sunburn :: ouch.
5. Hashtag :: #.
6. Special :: snowflake.
7. Spacious :: loft.
8. Happening :: now.
9. Blank :: page.
10. Humid :: summer.

* * * * *

I added four -- FOUR! -- pairs of socks to my sock bin in one weekend. Lest you become terminally jealous of my lightning-fast, mad knitting skillz, let me clue you in: I finished knitting one pair and f-i-n-a-l-l-y mended three other pairs which have been sitting unmended for several years.

These are the socks I just finished knitting.

Yarn: Country Classic Yarn for Sox (Aran, 80% wool/ 20% nylon)
Needles: Addi Turbos US#3 (feet and ankles), US#4 and #5 legs.
Pattern: Pattern? I don' need no stinkin' pattern! I knew I wanted to knit these on 44 st; I cast on 22 st and divided them onto the two ends of my circ, alternating 1 st on left tip, 1 st on right. Work in the round, increasing 2 st at each side every other round until there are 44 st. Short row heel, 1x1 ribbing at the end. Easy-peasy.

These are good and thick and will keep my tootsies warm this winter.

The other three pairs have languished in various to-do piles for years, the victims of wear, moths, and procrastination. This new year has prompted a small bout of finish-itis, that wonderful condition that comes far too seldom.

Remember these?

Now they look like this.

The colors are a bit misleading. The original Colinette yarn was mainly olive green, but it faded terribly over time in the wash. The mending yarn is olive green and matches the reinforcing thread in the heels -- you can see a tiny bit of it on my left foot. Gee, do you think maybe I should have reinforced the toes instead of the heels?

The first darn looked pretty messy, the second one looked better. When I finished I told Smokey that I was glad that I didn't have to darn socks because it was not any fun.

Then I was on a roll.

ly

Who says the darn has to match the socks? (That is Swedish ivy blooming in the photo.)

This darn was better, maybe because I could see the bright colored yarn better. Or maybe because we were watching Columbo, who knows? This was the second or third pair of socks I ever made, so I am very glad to have them back. Also, I needed another pair of bright blue socks.

 

This is the first pair of socks I ever made. I loved them. Whenever I had a challenging day ahead,
I would wear my red jacket, black pants, and these; I thought of them as my power socks.

The dark blue darn is pretty darned tidy (see what I did there?) if I do say so myself. But check out the bright red darn on the toes. All the wool had worn away from the yarn, but the 25% nylon remained. Using some bright red Lang Jawolle sock yarn, I chain-stitched up the ladders of nylon on each side of the the toes on both feet. Back when I first started knitting socks, I used US#1 needles, which accounts for the severe wear on the toes. Now I always knit the feet on US#0s so they wear better.

...and that, children, is how you get four *new* pairs of socks in one weekend.

 

Mutterings. And new socks.

You lucky people, you get to read twice as many of my mutterings this week. Please contain your enthusiasm.

1. Stuck :: in the elevator.
2. Elevator :: stuck (see above).
3. Vaccine :: measles, mumps, rubella.
4. Pepsi :: yuk. Give me Coke [Zero] or give me death.
5. Rotund :: round.
6. Wonder :: Woman.
7. Solo :: Han.
8. Voodoo :: economics.
9. Sticky :: peanut butter.
10. Summarize :: executive summary.

 

1. Disappointment :: sadness.
2. Searching :: for my stitch markers.
3. Counters :: row.
4. Snippet :: of conversation.
5. Carol :: Christmas.
6. Tiresome :: bore.
7. Booger :: eww.
8. Freak show :: circus.
9. Summarize :: executive summary.
10. Heartache :: not getting gauge.

* * * * *

Now that I am done with all promised knitting, I cast on a pair of super-warm socks for myself. Aran weight sock yarn on US#3 needles.

Crappy photo in artificial light. I didn't bother with jogless stripes on the bottom of the foot.

 

A more accurate depiction of the colors.
The new socks will use rest of the yarn from these.

 

The previous socks weighed 155g. I had 180g of yarn left: 92g of the brown, 47g of the teal, and 41g of the white. Since I had a limited amount of yarn I had to do some fancy schmancy math to figure out the stripe pattern. I knew I wanted to do contrasting white toes and heels and possibly cuffs, which meant the body of the socks had to be all brown and teal. How to figure out a stripe pattern so I wouldn't run out of one color?

My calcs. Literally, back of the envelope.

 

The blue and teal together are 88 g: 53% brown and 47% teal. If I did a 100-row pattern, I could do 53 brown rows and 47 teal rows and it would come out exactly right. But there is no way a 100-row pattern was feasible. A 10-row stripe pattern would need 5.3 rows of brown and 4.7 rows of teal. Still a no-go. I settled on a 20-row pattern:

• 8 rows of brown
• 4 rows of teal
• 2 rows of brown
• 5 rows of teal

Rows that narrow mean I can carry the yarn, which means (yay!) no ends to weave in. I think it will be okay. Lying in bed this morning I realized I could have tried to use some section of the Fibonacci sequence, which might have been more eye-appealing, but that would have meant ripping back a couple inches of the foot. Not worth it.

Warm feet, here I come!

Mutterings on a Sunday. And yarn and yo-yos.

1. Fantasy :: land.
2. Square one :: beginning.
3. Impostors :: fakers.
4. Hydrate :: drink!
5. Card :: games.
6. Respects :: pay your.
7. Big city :: bright lights.
8. Alert :: DefCon 5.
9. Scrabble :: game.
10. Neighborhood :: These are the people in your.

* * * * *

I forgot to show you the other ball of yarn I bought on Friday.

This will be another pair of fingerless gloves. The final library craft sale until next summer will be next Saturday. I will have eight more pairs to sell (FO pictures later this week), then I can go back to knitting other things.

::whew::

* * * * *

One of the original Duncan Yo-Yo factories was in the next little town north of us. One night last week their historical society showed a movie about the factory, and Smokey and I went to see it. He has always been charmed by the fact that we live sort-of near the site of the Duncan Yo-Yo factory.

What we saw was not the movie you see above.

What we saw had been filmed by an amateur back in 1948 -- 1950. Silent, black & white, hand-held, unedited. Grainy, jumpy, occasionally unfocused. It was a fascinating 20-minute film that lasted an hour. Maybe it is our shorter attention spans now in the 21st century, but the film really could have used some editing when it was converted from 8mm to DVD.

photo credit: Vox Efx via photopin cc

 

Fun facts about the factory:

• Much of the film was devoted to building the original factory, and, two years later, adding on to it.
• Construction techniques have really changed since the late 1940s.
• The film followed the construction process right from the beginning: cutting down a tree for lumber.
• Logs were cut into boards and planed onsite.
• The factory was a one-story building of cinder blocks laid by hand. (Everything that passes for a factory nowadays around here is a metal building, aka a pole barn.)
• When it was time to seal the flat roof, the tar went up one five-gallon bucket at a time, raised on a rope via a pulley.
• When it was time to pour the concrete floor, the concrete got there by wheelbarrows.
• Wheelbarrows of concrete were raised to the roof (no, I don't know exactly why there was concrete on the roof) on a platform jerry-rigged onto a front-end loader on a farm tractor. A workman had to ride along with it to hold the barrow in place because it was such a bumpy, jerky ride up to the roof.
• Later on, a forklift was used to raise the platform. This ride was much, much smoother.
• The workmen all looked like local farmers in their bib overalls and caps.
• No one ever wore a hard hat.
• None of the machines in the factory had any sort of guards over the spinning belts or whirling blades, nor did anyone ever wear any sort of breathing mask even when spray-painting.
• No information in the film about the number of fingers/hands/arms/other limbs lost per workday. Nothing about respiratory ailments or lung cancer later in life, either.
• Cigarette smoking was common, even when there were piles of sawdust everywhere.
• All the cutting, planing, lathing, and spray-painting was done by men.
• Assembly, attaching the string, and packing was done by women.
• The women all all wore dresses. 
  
  

photo credit Tom Simpson via photopincc

• There were two yo-yo tricksters in the film showing their stuff.
• People in the audience, many of whose parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and/or older siblings had worked in the factory, kept mentioning that one of the tricksters must be Tom Andersen.
• Apparently Mr. Andersen was well-known locally for his yo-yo expertise.

In spite of my snarkiness above and the fact that the grainy, jumpy film gave me a headache that verged on nausea by the 45-minute mark, I did enjoy seeing this bit of local history. Many thanks to the historical society for preserving and sharing it. 

Q: How long has it been since I did a post on Sunday Wenesday?

A: Roughly... forever. Yes, I wrote this on Sunday, but Typepad locked up and I walked away and didn't get back to it until Monday. When the knit links post went up. So you get this on Tuesday  Wednesday. Please hold your applause/tears/whatever.

* * * * *

1. Equality :: yes.
2. Strappy :: sandals.
3. Kitten :: YES!
4. Program :: library.
5. Inventory :: take.
6. Choice :: pro-
7. Scuba :: dive.
8. Purchase :: YARN!
9. Promotion :: advertising.
10. Organization :: lacking.

* * * * *

Today I must clear some of the debris from my desk. Also from the table by my chair. And my bedroom. Maybe start the laundry.

Life has been so frickin' busy the past few weeks that my mind is basically fried. Just trying to hang in there and not miss anything that I committed to -- library, farmers market, humane society, political (mostly political), not to mention family.

Retirement? Sheesh. I am over-committed and actually said NO to something last week. Yay for me.

* * * * *

And now, because what is a blog post without photos, a view of my revolving desktop wallpapers.

Sunday, Sunday!

1. Fish:: eyes.
2. Dreaming :: love.
3. Living :: dying.
4. Expectations :: unmet.
5. Mug :: china.
6. Jacket :: denim.
7. Bowl :: pipe.
8. Confession :: true.
9. Socks :: hand-knit. Duh.
10. Tank :: top.

* * * * *

Things are a-changin' in our living room. First there was the new TV.

Old.

New.

Yes, there is a lot of crappe in our living room. Smokey's knees are so bad he walks as little as possible, so all the paraphernalia required by whatever project he is working on are scattered around his chair. And the rest of the living room. Such is life.

Next, new (to us) chairs.

When I drove a carful of books and stuff to Sioux Falls to help Elder Son move, I stayed for a couple days. One thing we accomplished was to get him some furniture from the St Vincent de Paul thrift store. Said store is a block from his house and was having a 50% off sale on furniture. He was adamant that we needed to check it out. For $47 he became the proud owner of a couch (later exchanged for a smaller love seat because we couldn't get the couch through his 30" front door), a glider rocker and matching glider ottoman, and an end table. That glider rocker and ottoman were wonderfully comfortable, and it was I who insisted he buy them. 

When Smokey and I visited a couple weeks ago I spent almost every minute in that chair, rocking/gliding and knitting. On the way home I announced that I had liked it so much I was going to get one for myself. Being the wise husband he is, Smokey agreed that that was a fabulous idea.

We checked out some furniture stores and looked online, but didn't find anything properly comfortable. But yesterday while I was serving my turn at the Dems tent at the county fair, he searched Craigslist and found a pair of glider rockers with matching ottomans. Which are now nestling in the back of his Trooper (oh, yeah, he bought another car a couple weeks ago) waiting to be carried up to the living room.

His beat-up leather chair, purchased new in ::counts on fingers:: 1983 will be offered to each son and donated if neither wants it. My powered recliner will go to the basement family room for the next time one of us needs it. It was invaluable when my hip was bad and after his back surgery.

 
Old. Note the delightful cat-scratching-post nature of my recliner.
The other side of the leather chair looks the same way.

New(ish). X2.

If you need me any time in the next ten years, I will be gliding/rocking in the living room with my knitting and watching Netflix on the big screen. 

If this is Sunday, it must time for another parade.

This was our group in the last parade. Lady in light blue shirt is
Kelly Westlund, running for Congress from our district.

Gonna drive in the Lucky Days parade this afternoon. Got a big bowl of candy to throw to the kids along the route. I tell myself all through every parade, "Don't drive over a kid. Don't drive over a kid. Don't drive over a kid." It's a good rule. 

* * * * *

Mutterings.

1. Joke :: practical.
2. Away :: game.
3. Reaction :: time.
4. High :: times.
5. Movie :: times.
6. Decide :: later.
7. Afternoon :: delight.
8. Contrarian :: Smokey.
9. Understand :: grok.
10. Zone :: no parking.

* * * * *

I continue to knit on the fingerless glove project. Four pairs mostly done, and cast on for a fifth pair last night. Only one pair is completely done; the others all need thumbs, one pair needs its hems sewn down, and most need their ends woven in.  I am saving all that finishing for some night when I am watching TV. 

In other TV-related news, we just joined the rest of the US and* got a flat TV. I think it is 46", maybe 42", plenty big for our cozy living room. Younger Son set it up for us on Saturday morning. It took me roughly 30 seconds to get used to having a bigger screen. The viewing experience changes a little -- I find I am more aware of the rest of the picture, not just the main action/actor. Our old TV, a 32" digital CRT model, will go to live in Elder Son's house. 

 

* I have found it a little disconcerting to see huge flat-screen TVs in the living rooms of pretty much every house that leaves its curtains open. Why does everyone else -- even people whom I know are on a severely limited income -- have a fancy-schmancy TV and we don't? Well, because we were waiting for the prices to come down to cheap. And they did. 

 

 

Random because I am lame.

I haven't done the mutterings for awhile.

1. Onion :: cry.
2. Greek :: salad.
3. Construct :: -ion.
4. Crunch :: time.
5. Bottom :: feeder.
6. Cream :: cheese.
7. Slamming :: crowd-surfing.
8. Jerk :: chicken. I seem to have food on the mind this morning.
9. Closed :: mind.
10. Texture :: -d stitches.

* * * * *

Younger Son sent me a photo that a friend had taken of Ser Percival The Energetic.

Look at the size of that mouth. Now imagine your leg in there. Beware the pit bull.

* * * * *

Smokey figured out that it was the 20+ year-old sunscreen I used on Saturday that had caused the allergic reaction and made my eyes swell to monster size. So much for trying to use up old stuff -- that sunscreen is going in the trash. I don't look quite as bad as I did on Sunday, but I would still scare small children. Sheesh.

* * * * *

Earlier this week I had to drive through Lindstöm. Remember Lindström? Anyway, I got myself a small Blizzard at the DQ (mint chocolate chip, thanks for asking) and looked for a shady place to park while I ate it. (I hate having to get out of the car. Drive-through, every time.) A block or so later I found a cemetary, lots of shade. Perfect.

As I drove around looking for my ideal spot -- level, shady, not too obvious -- I came across this tombstone.

The inscription says, "T-REX / Made by Frank".

 

T. Rex says, "Whachoo lookin' at, mofo?"

* * * * *

In other Lindstrom Dairy Queen-related news: last weekend Smokey gave a co-worker a ride home to Lindstrom after work. During the ride, co-worker disclosed that Robin Williams had been spotted at the DQ earlier this summer. What was Robin Williams doing in a tiny rural village in Minnesota? Presumably, the same thing as Ozzie Ozbourne, Eric Clapton, and any number of other celebs. 

* * * * *

Have I been knitting? Yes. Have I been taking pictures of my knitting? No.

I have been busily making fingerless gloves to sell at the farmer's market later this summer and fall in support of the new library. The library building committee is sponsoring the market and gets the booth fees. They also have a table to sell dog blankets and other crafts, all proceeds going to the building fund.

I finished my third pair yesterday, then discovered that Ser Percy had snatched a glove from the second pair -- 100% alpaca*, no less -- and had mangled it a bit. I grumbled and fumed as I wove in the ends on pair #3, then inspected the pair #2 damage more closely. Glove turned out not to be salvageable, but the yarn was. Frogged and 1" reknit so far. Will finish this weekend.

Damned alpaca-chewing dogs...

 

* Apparently dogs prefer alpaca to wool. Go figger. 

 

 

Clarification.

Claire gave us the full scoop on the Starbucks/barista/college story to which I linked yesterday.

Starbucks isn't actually paying its employees' tuition costs. They aren't actually paying anything. Not one thin dime. Management today admitted that all they had done was to get ASU to lower tuition on on-line courses for Starbucks employees, who are then supposed to apply for Pell Grants and other federal funds to cover the rest of the costs. If they make it to their Junior year, when ASU will require full tuition, Starbucks will lend them the money. At the going rate. Creative Accounting should be a required course.

Thanks, Claire. Creative accounting, indeed!

* * * * *

1. Closed :: for repairs
2. Tourists :: money. Our county gets a good chunk of its tax revenue, both property taxes and sales taxes, from cabin people.
3. Footsteps :: in the hallway. Creak...
4. Ginger :: -snaps.
5. Way :: out.
6. Designer :: graphic.
7. Mattress :: pad.
8. Disaster :: ship.
9. Chips :: chocolate!!!
10. Campaign :: literature. Parades. Signs. Hard work. Election. Primary. Yeah, I am kind of an expert on campaigns.

* * * * *

Speaking of campaigns*, it is time for me to load my car with sandwich board signs and go march in a parade. High today will be 88˚.

::sigh::

* Not my campaign. I am campaign treasurer for a candidate for county sheriff.

Randominity and navel-gazing.

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.

1. Today :: is Monday. I wrote this yesterday.
2. Lips :: that long to be kissed.
3. Seethe :: rage.
4. Desired :: under the elms.
5. Patrol :: plane. A P3, to be exact.
6. Nails :: long and red.
7. Pastry :: chef.
8. Jacket :: potatoes.
9. Button :: -hole. The Lion Brand blog just posted a little tutorial on making buttonholes. I need to get on that, stat.
10. Feel :: good.

* * * * *

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

Springing Sunday.

As usual, first you get the mutterings.

1. Steady :: boyfriend.
2. Sleep :: deprived.
3. Thumb :: and forefinger.
4. Straighten :: up.
5. Wake up! :: NO!
6. Diminish ::  -ing returns.
7. Scarred :: for life.
8. Horn :: of plenty.
9. Pace :: car.
10. Correspondence :: writing.

* * * * *

As you may remember, earlier this week we got a foot (12"! 30cm!) of snow. Today the temp is 70℉ (21℃). Ah, spring in The North. Will we get another dump of snow? I say no. Let's hope I am right. 

photo credit: Bill Gracey via photopin cc

On Friday I saw two wood ducks on the lake. In all my life I don't think I have ever seen one in the wild, although I have seen dozens, if not hundreds, of wood duck houses erected by hopeful bird enthusiasts. They are a beautiful bird, as you can see in the photo. Sadly, this pair seemed to be transiting on their way north, gone the next day.

Beside the wood ducks, there have been Canada geese (many, many) and trumpeter swans (two) (the ones in the photo below may not be trumpeters because Wikipedia informs me that the latter generally swim with a straight neck; a lake neighbor more knowledgeable than I identified the ones on our lake as trumpeters),

photo credit: Peter aka anemoneprojectors - camera busted! via photopin cc

and coots (aka mud hens).

photo credit: TexasEagle via photopin cc 

No loons yet.

* * * * *

Remember the 600 stitches I cast on for the linen stitch scarf, then ripped out because the colors did not have enough contrast? And re-cast on 600 stitches with completely different yarns? I knat and knat upon them for a couple weeks, but last night I screwed up an entire row. The thought of tinking that row set me back a bit; upon further reflection -- and realizing just how long that scarf was going to be, somewhere between nine and eleven feet (2.7 and 3.3 meters), just as a commenter remarked a few posts ago -- I decided the best thing to do would be to frog it and start over again with fewer stitches.

While I was at it, I rewound the three yarns into new cakes. I love doing that. I will rewind center-pull balls/skeins into cakes just because I like them. We takes our fun where we finds it.

Today I re-cast on, 420 stitches this time, and I am halfway through the first row. My knitterly friends have rescheduled our linen stitch scarf tutorial for next Friday. I should have an inch or two of progress to show by then.

Netflix has provided me with some excellent knitting viewing:  The Inexplicable Universe with Neil DeGrasse Tyson. Because the presentation is 95% NDT talking, with very few visuals, it is perfect for knitting. The subject matter so far, astrophysics and cosmology and relativity and quantum physics and string theory, has always fascinated me, even though it is beyond my understanding*. I love this stuff the same way Smokey loves the Sunday morning talking heads shows and the PBS nightly news hour.

* In the words of John von Neumann, "In mathematics** you don't understand things. You just get used to them." So true.***

** And quantum physics.

*** While googling to be sure I had that quotation correct, I found this. (Scroll down to the Foot Shooting Agreement.)

Sunday as usual.

1. Shame :: anguish.
2. Business :: as usual.
3. Cats :: yes!
4. Green :: Green Party.
5. Politics :: sooo tired of.
6. Boston :: driving.
7. Healthy :: as a horse.
8. Pint :: ale.
9. Owner :: car.
10. Sorrow :: sad.

* * * * *

Elder Son had his last day of medical school on Friday. This was a red-letter day, one he has been waiting for for a l-o-n-g time. Finally he can escape the Evil Upper East Side Medical School Dedicated To Wealth And Prestige. When he went to retrieve his car from a friend's apartment parking lot in Jersey where it had been stored for two months, he found it had a flat tire. 3am call to me, asking for Smokey's phone number at work: always call Dad for car advice. He had planned to drive into Manhattan during the wee hours so as to avoid traffic as he picked up his stuff from the dorm. Didn't happen. He did manage to have the car towed to a tire place, get the tire fixed, drive into Manhattan with somewhat less traffic than on a weekday, get his stuff, and escape, all without any tickets or accidents. He is now back in Ann Arbor and is finishing his grad school thesis.

Graduation ceremonies for med school and grad school are both in early May. Which means, for us... road trip!

* * * * *

Younger Son is back from Las Vegas and here for the weekend. Ser Percy was very glad to see him. I haven't seen that dog's tail wag that fast ever before. The reunion reminded us of YouTube videos of returning vets being reunited with their dogs.

YS said that, yes, he did gamble while in LV -- one dollar into a slot machine. "I lost the whole thing!" he reported.

* * * * *

Both the back and sleeves of Fairfield are done to the armhole shaping. I haven't had the undisturbed time to knit that that will require so I started a mindless project.

The first six rows of a linen stitch scarf.

The knit get-together that would have taught three of us how to make a linen stitch scarf got postponed until later this month because of a blizzard. I had cast on the 600 st required for a long narrow scarf and had knit the first three rows from the pattern before the blizzard, but I decided my colors did not contrast enough with each other (yellow, pale blue, and pale green -- Easter egg colors). So I frogged and restarted yesterday with different colors. The new one will be a regular riot of color -- NOT! -- dark gray, light gray, and this:

Marks & Katten Fame.

of which I used the first half of the skein in my Daybreak scarf:

Right now I seem to be in the blackish part of the skein so it doesn't show up well, but that will change. Aside: 600 stitches takes a lot of yarn. This scarf may be narrower than I expected..

 

Muttering on a Sunday.

1. Rabbit :: Hop.
2. Judged :: American Idol.
3. Produce :: Lettuce.
4. Bank :: Money.
5. Standard :: Normal.
6. Mister :: In-Between.
7. Tissue :: Kleenex.
8. Summon :: Court.
9. Selfishly :: Mine!
10. Chatting :: Online.

* * * *

Last weekend Younger Son got into cleaning my kitchen. (Be still, my heart!) When he got to the stove, he decided I needed new burner pans and rings; not only did he decide that, he went onto Amazon and bought me some.

I still can't figure out why he thought I needed new ones.

* * * * *

He is currently at the NAB show in Las Vegas, as I mentioned in an earlier post. He sent some photos from his first day.

Airport? Conference center? Hotel on The Strip? Doesn't matter -- palms and sun and 60˚!

 

Pre-show.

 

Where to start? (Not YS in photo.)

 * * * * *

In other fabulously fascinating news, I watched The Avengers yesterday. Having seen numerous references to Tom Hiddleston, Loki, and Thor on the 'net, I decided I wanted needed to know what it was all about.

Actually, I lie. I watched the first hour, got interrupted, and decided I didn't need to watch the rest. I know who Loki and Thor are and what Asgard is now.

Edited to add: Looks like I watched that movie just in time. Or I wouldn't have understood this.

* * * * *

In knitting news, I am up to the armholes on the back of Fairfield and nearly to the armhole shaping on the sleeves.

As usual, red yarn is impossible to capture accurately.

There is a faint possibility that I may knit my way straight through this sweater, which would be a first for me. I always get distracted by smaller projects -- scarves, mittens, hats, what-have-you. Let's keep our fingers crossed...

Sunday stuff on Thursday because Thursday is the new Sunday. Or something.

1. Wine :: cooler.
2. Cooperate :: -tion.
3. Dropped :: like a hot potato.
4. Painter :: drip cloth.
5. Binger :: drunkard.
6. Knot :: -worthy.
7. Collar :: button.
8. Barefoot :: in the Park.
9. Town :: -house.
10. House :: in town.

* * * * *

Progress continues smoothly on the baby sweater. I coerced En Esch into modeling it last weekend.

Clearly, En was entirely bored with my knitting and picture-taking.
I told him to shut up and model or I would cut off the cat food supply.

 

He reluctantly and sullenly complied.

It is, of course, much further along now. I am done with the body and nearly done with the sleeves. Still need to find the perfect button. And perhaps a better model.

* * * * *

Smokey's knee replacement surgery that was scheduled for last Monday was rescheduled for March 3 because he had a URI that was not fully cleared up. I emailed the boys to let them know the status, which prompted the following email exchange.

Elder Son, the almost-doctor: Good.  You don't want infected hardware. (He went on about how Smokey has several of the risk factors for post-surgical infection.)

Younger Son: I can provide my fridge for secure storage, if need be.

Elder Son: I also volunteer [Younger Son's] fridge.

* * * * *

Last weekend we participated in the first Trivia Night at a local coffee house.

It was surprisingly well-attended. All the tables were filled. I cannot tell you
how many events of one kind or another that I have attended here in Polk Count where,
counting me, there were fewer people than you have fingers.

 

My team was poised and alert and ready with answers.

 

Example of a question in the presidential trivia category: Which president was featured on the $500 bill from 1928 to 1934? (Click and drag to see the answer.)McKinley. Smokey knew that one.

Musical trivia: What two-person French musical group had a hit in 2013 with Random Access Memories? Daft Punk. Younger Son knew that one.

Science and nature trivia: What bird is this? (audio of a bird song) Cardinal. I knew that one.

Sports trivia: What year was the first SuperBowl and who was the quarterback of the winning team? 1966 and Bart Starr. Smokey knew the quarterback but was off by one year.

Events in 2013: Name the musician who died in 2013 and opened Woodstock with a two-hour set. Richie Havens. Smokey had to think about it for awhile, but he knew that one, too.

It was a lot of fun. We were ahead most of the night but ended up in second place.

Wait 'til next time!

 

It's a Sunday in January and it is snowing. So, what's new with you?

1. Vex :: Hex.
2. Ghost :: Spirit. 
3. Detail :: Devil is in them.
4. Furthers :: No, farther.
5. Foxy :: Vixen.
6. Hybrid :: Prius.
7. Maximum :: Prime.
8. Wonderful :: Wonderful.
9. Munch :: SVU.
10. Organize :: I really should...

* * * * *

I just read Cookie's latest blog post, wherein she says, and I quote: "...we're not having much of a winter this year..."

That is what is happened in the far western part of the county. 

In the East and South and Midwest, the complete opposite is true. Cold, more cold, and still colder cold; snow, more snow, and then a little more.

I read somewhere recently that one is not supposed to blog about the weather. 

Oops.

* * * * *

Yesterday was the strip-quilting fundraiser for our new library. There were six of us participating, two teams of three. The instructor gave each team a pile of fabric strips, each individual strip 40" long and 2-1/2" wide, and all sewed together into a l-o-n-g strip.

1600" l-o-n-g.

The first person in the team took the two ends of the 1600" strip and started sewing them together along the long edge.

 

The helpful instructor was helpful.

 

There were quilts on display.

 

At the end of an hour, my team had created this.

 

Half an hour later, the other team -- which did not have the benefit of Super Jennie, who had made strip quilts before and ran that sewing machine at blinding speed -- produced this.

 

Thanks to y'all -- and a few others subjected to relentless arm-twisting and unmitigated begging -- I raised over $300 for the library. 

THANK YOU!

Sunday random.

1. Voice :: activated.
2. Counter :: sales.
3. Marked :: man.
4. Loving :: cuddle.
5. Coat :: fur.
6. Pounce :: cat.
7. Dehydrate :: tomatoes.
8. Desire :: in the elms.
9. Concern :: related.
10. Broth :: chicken.

* * * * *

Now for the truly random...

• I cleaned up one of my email inboxes yesterday. It had over 600 messages; now it has 3. The rest all got filed appropriately or deleted. I feel very good about this.
• One of these days I need to do the same thing with my Gmail inbox, which has 341 messages. At least none of those are unread.
• It was 6 above on Friday. Today the snow was almost melting. I was too warm in my wool sweater.
• High on Wednesday is predicted to be several degrees below zero.
• On a somewhat related note, I am loving this winter. Lots of snow = a gorgeous sight, and ultra cold weather just means piling on the hand-knits. 
• I was discussing this winter with a colleague on a committee last week. We agreed that this is like winters used to be back in the Good Ol' Days.
• Yes, I occasionally find myself being one of those who refer to times past.
• But I still like a real winter. None of this wimpy stuff with not enough snow to keep the septic drain field from freezing, not enough cold weather to be able to wear wool.
• ...and it was uphill both ways.

* * * * *

From Neil Gaiman's blog:

My not being currently on Twitter meant that you did not have to endure any grumbles from me about Federal Express leaving packages at houses they were not addressed to, or, alternately, handing over packages to the US Mail service, who then stoutly maintain that the house I'm in does not actually exist and returned said packages to the sender.

I can sympathize. We ordered a new color laser printer/scanner/fax from Amazon on December 27. FedEx delivered it about January 2 or 3, but left the 70-pound box by the mailbox. Which is ~300 yards away from the house, up the hill and through the woods. I guess I can understand why the delivery person did not want to venture down our semi-plowed driveway, but anyway. Smokey found it a day or two later. This was all during one of our extended periods of below-zero weather. Guess what? The toner cartridges -- all four of them -- were damaged by the cold, so the printer prints really, really badly. 

I contacted Amazon and they will exchange it, but new ones are on back order, yada yada, so the whole process is going to drag on. I predict that at the end of that process, either 1, that item will no longer be avaiilable, or b, the price will have doubled to what it was from any other vendor on the planet.

The alternative is to keep the machine and order new toner cartridges. The three color ones are >$100 each, the black is merely $70. New toner cartridges would cost more the the entire machine.*

::grumble::

Speaking of FedEx, they also decided to leave another package from Amazon at the local post office, who said they sent me a notice -- which I never got.

::grumble x2::

* * * * *

Discussion of all the viewpoints is nice, but when an organization is supposed to stand for something, eventually we have to stop airing our individual viewpoints and decide where we take our stand.

And that is all I have to say about that.

* * * * *

Tomorrow I plan to blog about knitting. Remember knitting? It is a wonderful hobby that we all enjoy, and I have been doing a lot of it. Smallish projects, but still knitting and still enjoyable.

* * * * *

And now, because what good is a blog post without a photo, here is what I was doing at 6:30 tonight.

Percy's and my handknit sweaters were getting acquainted.

 

 

* Writing this made me realize I should recontact Amazon and see if I can get replacement toner cartridges instead of trying to exchange the entire thing. It also made me realize that if I had bought the machine locally (not even possible, and even if it were I would have paid ~4X what I did), I would be dealing with someone I know instead of someone in Cambodia or the Maldives or Tierra del Fuego or wherever Amazon's customer service center is located. Oh, well, first world problem, right?

Reading on a Sunday.

1. Funk :: -delic.
2. Marketing :: survey.
3. Standards :: norms.
4. Best friend :: Pritch.
5. Search :: and find.
6. Pizza :: oven.
7. Jeans :: tight.
8. Singapore :: tropical.
9. Executive :: decision.
10. Find :: and go seek. Yeah, I know that's dumb, but it's what my mind came up with.

* * * * *

I am not currently reading the two books I want to talk about today. I finished one on Thursday night and the other Saturday afternoon. But they both stuck with me, so I want to talk about them briefly. I have been having rather a dull run with books lately, so it was nice to read two back-to-back that grabbed me.

This one, The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer, is probably going to get some mixed reviews, and I can see the flaws in it, but I still found it fascinating. It is a bildungsroman, but unlike most coming-of-age novels, this one follows the characters until they have college-age children of their own. If you read the reviews on Amazon, you can get an idea of the plot and the themes. The one that struck me was the jealousy, the feeling of never having as good a life as your friend(s), and wishing you were in their family. I remember that as a child, although now of course I know that no family is as wonderful as I imagined others to be when I was 10. The author examines the some of the characters' feelings in depth, which rang true to me.

The other book, the one I finished yesterday, is The Dinner by Herman Koch. Once again, the Amazon reviews can tell you a lot about the novel. I found it fascinating -- started it at 9:30 Friday night and forced myself to put it down at 12:30 because I needed to go to sleep, however unwilling I was not to keep reading. It is dark, satirical, disturbing, a bit mysterious as snippets of information about the characters are slowly revealed. Set in the Netherlands and originally written in Dutch, it was translated to English in 2012.

As always, I have no idea where I got the recommendation to read these -- I request books from the library whenever someone mentions them favorably -- but if it was one of you, thanks! 

Interholiday Sunday.

Oops, I forgot to hit Publish yesterday. It's a two-fer Monday!

1. Business cards :: overrated.
2. IT :: lifesaver.
3. Liver :: pâté.
4. Rugged :: truck.
5. Destruction :: Eve of. Child of the '60s here.
6. Cast :: signed.
7. Gratification :: instant.
8. Pizza :: sausage and mushroom.
9. Cutest :: guy ever.
10. Best :: dressed.

* * * * *

That cold front rolled in last night, the kind of cold front variously known as Alberta clipper, arctic clipper, or jesushf*ckingchristitscoldoutthere clipper. Yes, that kind of cold front.

High today predicted to be -3˚F, -19˚C for those who roll that way. (That would be the entire rest of the world, I think.) When I let the dogs out last night the door wouldn't stay shut afterwards -- wind was so strong it kept blowing it open, even when I swore I had latched it. I even thought about throwing the deadbolt, but eventually I managed to get it latched firmly.

Actually, the forecast for this cold front was worse a few days ago. Now it has moderated.

Yes, that is moderated. A few days ago the weatherpeople were predicting highs below zero forever nearly a week.

Never fear, however; I am wearing a wool sweater -- handknit! -- and wool socks -- handknit! -- and will don a wool hat -- handknit! -- and wool scarf -- handknit! -- fleece-lined gloves before I venture out today.

For comparison, yesterday I was out gathering signatures on my petition to have my name on the ballot in April (20 signature of registered voters in my district, required by law in WI) I shed my parka early and wore only a cotton sweater with long-sleeved cotton t-shirt under it. Still too warm.

Enough.

* * * * *

And now...

it's time for another rousing game of...

SHOW ME YOUR WALLPAPER!

Here's mine, found on a knitting site I can't remember Madame DeFarge Knits:

 

It replaced this image, cheerfully lifted from Ryan's blog:

That's a rock on a frozen skein of yarn.

 What is decorating your screen these days? Phones and tablets allowed ;-)

If this is Sunday, it is time for the Sunday Stuff.

1. Games :: Hunger. Duh.
2. Younger :: woman.
3. Propose :: marriage. To a younger woman? Sheesh, I must be feeling insecure.
4. Closer :: to heaven.
5. Cleaned :: and polished.
6. Fresh :: produce.
7. Crunch :: Cap'n.
8. Centers :: of interest.
9. Shiny! :: Firefly!
10. Horrific :: nasty.

* * * * *

A friend just posted this on Facebook:

So [husband] just told me that the useless dude we had to see 27 years ago for pre-marriage "training" (<-- parent-pleasing move) was one of those named on the recently released Mpls/St. Paul Archdiocese list of abusive priests. I thought that guy was terrible back then, just on general principle, and now I'm glad we walked out of there and did pretty much the opposite of everything he suggested.

My friend is a GREAT judge of character.

* * * * *

 
While writing Friday's post about South Africe I found this photo that Younger Son
took in the men's room at the Madrid airport. Love it!

* * * * *

Winter arrived this week... with a vengence.

Actually, the above reading on our (internet-connected!) thermostat represents a slight heat wave. Yesterday at about the same time it was -12˚F (-24˚C).

Yup, winter. I have been making good use of my warm woolly scarf-y shawlettes  and hand-knit socks and LLBean flannel-lined jeans. For some unknown reason, the power company has not seen the need to turn off the interruptible power yet this winter, plus -- unlike last year -- the heat pump seems able to maintain the desired indoor temp. All in all, the house is balmy :-)

Speaking of hand-knits, the cabled hat I blogged about a couple weeks ago is coming along swimmingly. I know, I know, I complained about it in the original post, but I managed* to get the actual pattern -- Celtic Bunny Hat. Now, the knitting is slow -- lots of cabling -- but not difficult. Good pattern! This cable chart is much more logical than the one for the Saxon Braid. I actually experience joy when knitting it rather than anxiety and dread. 

The horizontal panel has short rows to duplicate the effect of the first decreasing rounds as a hat approaches the crown. I have not seen short rows in a cable pattern before, but they work just fine here. As some long-ago cooking program host used to say, Very simple very easy! 

* We shall not discuss precisely how I got the pattern. Just know that knitters are delightful people.

* * * * *

Younger Son just did a customer service call on the land line behind me. (Computer service people are never off duty, apparently.) Lots of technical jargon. When he hung up, he said,"You understood all that, right?" Then he smirk-chuckled. And proceded to explain to me what he had just told his client, which involved terms like "kernel panic" and "LUNs" and "disc arrays". Before he started I tried to tell him that I didn't need to know -- because I knew I wouldn't understand -- and he insisted, "No, this is fun!" Um, sure. But it makes me happy to know he loves his work.