Been There, Done That, Bought the Shirt...

literally.

What we didn't buy was a lot of yarn.  This was our fourth year at SAFF, so I guess we've become more blasé or selective or something.  

I bought yarn for just one project:  The Shetland Garden Faroese Shawl:

knit from The Unique Sheep's Tinsel Toe yarn, gold to green gradient colorway:

This shawl has eight charts.  And all four of us bought a kit.  What WERE we thinking???

(Yarn fumes.  It's the only answer.)

My only other purchase was some bison yarn for older daughter:

I have, over the years, purchased yarn made from llama, alpaca, sheep (of course), mink, cashmere, mohair, possum, and now bison.  

So that was the Fair.

Random shots from the weekend:

A trucker with a good Halloween sense of humor...or a trucker we don't want to meet---

 Some well-packed dogs.

Our little rented house in Weaverville, NC.  It's a lot larger than it looks thanks to an addition on the back.

Welcome to Weaverville!!! They are such kind and generous folks.

Really, they are.  We spent some time in greater downtown Weaverville.

Some truly great decorating.

And that's all, folks!

Ooops. No it's not.  I forgot our mascot, provided by Sallyknit!

That's all Blogger would let me transfer from my phone, but I'm sure you remember the rest of the lyrics.

Listen to them enough, as we did, and you may never forget them.  

SAFF

Tomorrow I leave for a long weekend at SAFF (the Southeastern Animal Fiber Fair), in Asheville, NC.  Four of us have gone there the past few years and had a great time.  It's literally everything from sheep to shawl, although we have sworn off any yarn-buying this year.  Right?

The past couple of years, we've had the use of an apartment, but it is not available this year, so we have rented a house.  The apartment came complete with celebrity gossip magazines last year, but I think that the house will not.  So I bought these today when I went to the grocery store.  Yes, I was kind of embarrassed and I did feel as if I should explain to the teenaged boy checking me out that I don't usually buy this sort of thing, that I know I am the wrong demographic for them.  My proof is that I don't even know who Emily is!!!

But then I decided that he probably really didn't care.  I bought them and moved on.  Last year we took turns reading them aloud; whoever just couldn't knit ONE MORE STITCH would read to the other three knitters.  We're stocked up for this year.

Traditions are important!  

Oh My...

I hope I'm not a corpse.

It IS almost Halloween.

I had turquoise polish put on my fingernails a few months ago, and when it was time for it to go, it went.  No fuss.  No muss.

But this on my toes?  I CAN NOT get it off.

I hadn't planned on trick or treating, but maybe I should.

Maybe I should be a zombie.  Corpses can't walk.

Crisis Averted!

The threat level can go back to ...... orange?  blue?  chartreuse?  Do we still do that?  I don't know.

On my recent trip to Austin, the ever-diligent TSA agents at the Atlanta airport found my Swiss Army Knife---AGAIN---and confiscated it.  We are all safer now.

I always carry one (except for the few days after the TSA confiscates it).  Who knows when I will need a toothpick, tweezers, a knife blade, a nail file or, most importantly, a corkscrew?  Because I always carry one, I never remember that I am carrying it.

But have no fear, travelling public, the TSA is here to save us all from whatever evil deed I might have in mind using my Swiss Army Knife.  Knitting needles? Those I can carry.  And really, they look more potentially dangerous to me than the knife.

But shhhh.....don't tell the TSA folks.

And Then There Were Two

Socks.

Hmmmmm.......

I just saw a commercial for this on television.   

It's a vacuum cleaner for ears.

I'm speechless.

But wait.  (There's more.)

Christmas is coming....

Just Random, Mostly

Well, first of all, I do not like the new Blogger interface.  Just for the record.  Just in case Blogger even cares.

Secondly, I am knitting away on this project:

By knitting away, I mean I am on row 22 of 200 rows.  This should be an easy project, but it didn't start out that way.  It required using a provisional cast on of 395 stitches.  doG help you if you lose count along the way, which is even possible when using markers. So when I made multiple mistakes in the first several tries I made to get going on this, there was no way on this green earth that I was going to just rip it out and start over with the cast on.  No. Way.  That would be, I swear, as bad as doing a prep for a colonoscopy when you aren't even having a colonoscopy.  It is just that bad.  (I apologize for the thought, but I realize I am still offended by the stuff I had to drink for the prep.  Bleaghhh..)

But once I got going, I realized that I was going to have to count 395 stitches on each and every row.  Are you #$%^&;* kidding me?  I moaned and whined, and then I learned that the now Knittergran-certified genius Lucille had found a way around counting all those stitches.  It does involve markers and genius.  

So Lucille, this is for you:

Thirdly, I have learned that Baxter still likes yarn, LOVES yarn, as in chewing and eating yarn.  And Molly likes, LOVES the movement of the needles.  Yarn + moving needles= knitting.

So, yay.

However, I did make a mistake on a recent row and I counted the stitches to be sure.  There is nothing I can do about it, and it won't show since it's at the edge, so it is what it is.

Who's counting?  I'm not. Not any more, no matter what.

Le Pauvre Chat (with subtitles)

UH....no.

Detente....maybe

Wook at dat widdle face. How could you not wuv dis kittee?

Even Baxter might be changing his mind on this. He and Molly seem to have reached a sort of detente. They take turns chasing each other---no hissing---and then Molly retreats to the basement and Baxter remains upstairs.

Yesterday, Baxter had pretty much stopped hissing; instead he just ignored Molly's presence. I see nothing. Today he is paying much more attention. I think that Molly is having fun but I don't know what Baxter's take is on all of this running around.

I am assured by everyone with experience in bringing a new cat into a home with a resident cat that this will all work out, that they will end up snuggling up together to sleep.

Again, I'll believe that when I see it.

This is not going well.

I have written occasionally about Baxter, my mischievous cat. He loves to play, and play, and play, and then, play some more. But I am older-ish. dH is older-ish. And we can't play ALL of the time.

What better solution could there be than to adopt another rescue kitten?

So we did. Her current name is Molly; it's her third name and I think this one will stick. But for the first 24 hours we didn't even see her. She was hiding from us and from Baxter. This morning she finally came out of hiding---she had found an access hole through a wall in the basement that allowed her to get into the area under the bathtub in the basement. We can't fit in there, so we had to wait. And wait.

But she has come out of hiding and she is limited to the basement for now. dH's office is there so she is not alone, and she has gotten friendly (or desperate) enough to climb on our laps and allow us to pet her.

Baxter, on the other hand, is very put out. He is hiding in our closet, the same place he hid for two days last summer when our older daughter and her four children came to visit. He eventually joined the fun, so I hope that he will join us again this time. But he is p*ssed!!! And he lets us know it by hissing any time he hears or smells Molly. He even hissed at ME when I petted him after petting Molly. At ME!!! His favorite human!

I am told that all of this is normal, and that in days, or weeks, or months (months?!) the two cats will settle down and be buddies.

I'll believe it when I see it. And I am hoping that Molly won't like yarn.

Los Angeles

I'm back and, as Delta is my witness, I will NEVER take a red-eye flight again. I left LA at 11:55 pm and arrived in Atlanta at 7:30 am. And no, that doesn't mean that I had 7 1/2 hours of sleep. It means I had 4 1/2 hours of constantly interrupted light sleep, and I still feel drugged. Blechhhh...

But we did have a great time, and we had sort of a whirlwind tour of sights. The most unusual was this huge rock at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. It was paid for by donations and cost about 10 million dollars. I'm not sure how a museum gets patrons to donate for a rock but donate they did and this is the result. It's fun to stand under it....really! But we had a 2.2 earthquake our first day in LA and I did wonder a little how this rock would fare in a large earthquake. It's considered by the sculptor to be an art installation. That is accurate, I suppose. We, art critics that we are, decided that it doesn't qualify as sculpture since the only part carved away was on the bottom in order to make one side of it fit squarely on the brace. A very strong brace, I hope.
I love the palm trees, all planted in a row.
And the collection of old street lights, all installed in rows.
A strange shoe in a shop window.
Oil bubbling up on land near the La Brea tarpits.
Oil near the tarpits that has somehow formed a cone.
The heat shield from one of the re-entry capsules; all of the streaks are from the extreme heat experienced during re-entry through the earth's atmosphere.

This is the Gamble House, designed and built in 1908 by Charles and Henry Greene, famous during the American Arts and Crafts period. It is spectacular. The house, both inside and out, is almost entirely wood. The heir who was the last of the Gambles to own the house put it on the market in the 60's, but when she heard prospective buyers discuss painting the entire interior white in order to make the house brighter, she changed her mind and donated it to Pasadena and USC.

Below is a part of the Berlin Wall. It is covered with art, both official and the usual LA street art.
We also went to the Huntington Library, which is so much more than the library I had expected. It comprises an art museum, over 125 acres of gardens, a library (we saw an original Gutenberg Bible), and a research facility. It merits a return trip because in the time we had, we could only see a small portion of what is there. (So watch out, Sarah and Ben!)

But of course, the best part of the trip was spending time with Sarah and Ben. They were enthusiastic and generous hosts. I did whine a bit about not getting to the ocean, but Good Golly Miss Molly, we saw almost everything else...and...we'll be back.

Now, I just need to get them to visit here so I can return the great hospitality.

Amazing!

Even if separating eggs isn't a tortuous task for you, watch this how to. It's amazing---so amazing that I want to go separate eggs that don't even need separating.

It's not in English, and I knew this before I started watching it. However, when I couldn't hear it, I TURNED THE VOLUME UP. Did I think I would understand it if it was louder???

Today

I call this My Pool this time of year, when all of the kids have gone back to school. I guess the moms have had enough of pool time and just don't come here without their children. 

If I swim during the summer, I come earlier in the morning so that I avoid the pee soup that I assume the water becomes as the day goes on. 

But all I hear today are some crows racketing about and a sole red-shouldered hawk  gliding overhead. There is a cloudless blue sky in spite of the hurricane that is slowly working its way north.  I suspect that for now, its only affect here is pulling all of the moisture out of our air in order to deposit it elsewhere.  

So I am at the pool alone.

Perfect.....

But I am writing this post on my iPhone.  I need to learn to leave the electronics at home.

If Wishes Were Horses,

I would knit a Fair Isle sweater.

Or ride a horse, which I know is a lot easier. (my apologies to Shakespeare)

Even if I never knit anything from this gorgeous collection of gorgeous patterns, I will still love looking through the magazine.

When I returned to knitting about ten years ago, my goal was to make a Fair Isle sweater for my oldest granddaughter. As I did more and more research on stranded knitting, I became more and more intimidated and have never even started to knit such a sweater. dH says I should make one for myself, that grandchildren grow out of sweaters faster than I could make one. Good point, but that makes it literally an even larger challenge.

According to this Rowan magazine (#52), Fair Isle knitting comes from one of the Shetland islands and uses two colors on each row. The two strands of wool running across every row make for a very warm sweater, necessary in the climate. The style was popularized by the Prince of Wales (Edward VIII, who abdicated the throne in order to marry Wallace Simpson) when he was seen golfing while wearing a Fair Isle vest in 1921.

I had sort of written off ever knitting a Fair Isle sweater but when I look at these designs, I sigh and wish..........

Aren't they beautiful?
Hmmmmm....maybe some socks?

Or a horse.

Chipped

Baxter----isn't he cute?!

This photo was taken by Mrs. G during her visit. He was hiding from her.

He had his annual physical this morning, after a hairy ride to the vet's office. I could not get him into his carrier and called the vet to cancel the appointment. Instead, the receptionist told me that if I were comfortable doing it, I should drive to the office (only two miles away) with Baxter and the carrier in the car. When I arrived, I was to call the office from the parking lot and they would send a vet tech out to help.

That's what I did. The vet tech opened the back car door while I held on to Baxter; I was sitting in the driver's seat. I handed Baxter to the vet tech and she quickly loaded him into his open carrier on the back seat. He was happy to get into the carrier to get away from this stranger.

His appointment was a breeze. He weighs nine pounds and is perfectly healthy. I had him chipped so that if he ever gets outside again, whoever finds him can have a vet scan his neck area, and the vet will be able to track us down. I hope we never need it.

Now he is back home---after willingly riding IN his carrier for the return trip---and is busy licking all the vet and vet tech cooties off of his fur.

Don't Let Anyone Tell You

That knitters don't save money. This Capelet by Oscar de la Renta costs $2,990.00. It is probably knit by machine and the ad doesn't specify what it is made of. It had better be kiviat.

I don't understand the garment either---it looks like something that would annoy me. Every time I reached for a door handle, for something from a store shelf, for the steering wheel, the capelet would ride up to my shoulders. I won't be making one, no matter how little it would cost to knit it myself.

(And I don't know how to get rid of the those editing marks. Mac help anyone?)

Curse You, NPR!!!

I bet you think that the part of this project in the right top portion of the photo is a sleeve

You would be wrong. This project is a vest. Vests don't have sleeves.








Sorry for the delay. I was eating a popsicle.

Now, for the vest. I learned a very cool and neat way to cast off (sewn cast off---brilliant!) and once I finished doing that, I turned on a podcast to listen to while I sewed the side seams of the vest. I clicked on (by accident. I thought I was turning on Wiretap) Radio Lab and the participants were talking about the very interesting Argentine ants.

Yes, interesting. They migrated via ships from Argentina to New Orleans during the 1800's and now can be found all over the world. How do the evolutionary biologists know this?

Well, I'm glad you asked: they put some Argentine ants into a jar, add some mystery ants, and once they sniff each other, they either get on with whatever they had been doing (trying to escape from the jar, I suppose), or they fight to the death. The Argentine ants always win which is why they now live even in Australia. That is pretty amazing since they can't swim. The ants love our freeways and our ships, apparently, and use them to take over the ant world!

While I was learning all about Argentine ants, I was sewing the sides of the vest together. The problem is that I sewed the two side edges of the back together, making a tube and not a vest. And I did such a good job of sewing the seam, tying up the ends, and weaving them in to the fabric of the vest, that I CANNOT get the seam un-sewn.
I'm nothing if not stubborn, however, and I hope to get this problem solved before I have to take the so-called vest to knit night on Thursday and beg politely ask someone to help.

And no more listening to NPR podcasts while I knit.

Why I Don't Often Swatch

Reason 1: I don't want to. That simple.

Reason 2: I believe it was the Yarn Harlot who said:  Swatches lie.

And before I give you Reason 3, this is what I am up to:

I have just started working on this v-neck vest for my grandson. It is the Fundamental Junior Vest #F07 published by Figheadh Yarnworks and designed by Jen Hagan. The pattern includes instructions for each of four weights of yarns, and I decided I wanted to make the one for 5 stitches/inch since I am working with yarn that is slightly less thick than worsted weight.

The yarn I found in my stash (Euro Baby Sweetness) works up to 5.5 sts/inch on size 5 or 6 needles. So for once, I decided to make a swatch to see which size needles to work with and which size vest to knit.

I knit the swatch with size 5 needles, figuring that they would be right on the 5 sts/inch that I needed. But it came out to 5 and one thread of the next stitch/inch. Close enough, I decided.

Uh, NO. That one thread of the next stitch is the ONE HALF stitch that I don't need. But since I ignored the swatch, I started knitting on size 5 needles and had a HUGE sweater back.

So, Reason 3: Even if the swatch does lie, I don't listen anyway, so it doesn't really matter.

I ripped out the knitting I had done and started over using size 4 needles. Now I am on gauge (I assume, haven't measured but the fabric looks nice) and I'm on my way.

I read some of the comments on Ravelry about this pattern from other knitters, and several people mentioned knitting this in the round. I thought: How on earth would I convert this pattern to an in-the-round pattern? and kept knitting. A few inches in, a lightbulb went off in my puny brain and I realized just how easy it would be to do.

And then I decided to just keep going. Next time, if there is a next time, I'll knit it in the round.

(But I'm having second thoughts...)

This is the skirt I made for Lily and I am happy with how it came out, even though I wasn't sure that the Knit Picks Cot Lin was a good choice for the pattern. It worked out well enough, and it's twirly and swirly, just like Lily.

I am skirted out. No more skirts.

Generous! That's What I Am!

And yet my daughter just can't bring herself to accept my generosity.

See all these strands of yarn left on Lily's skirt? Well, they all need to be tied off and woven into the skirt's fabric. I generously offered to send the skirt as is to my daughter so that she could enjoy doing this, but she said "No, thanks."

I can't think of a more perfect task for her. It's easy and she could do it while watching her four children. And yet she says No.

On an unrelated subject, yesterday I had a procedure the name of which starts with a "c" and ends with "oscopy." It was everything everyone had said it would be and even more. And my friend who might be named Kathy and who has been nagging encouraging me for about a year to have one done, is relieved that I did. And while I can't say I am happy about finally having it, I will admit that it is a good thing that I did.

Oh, and my prescription for the stuff I had to drink the night before says this:
Gosh, and I had a few hours I was looking forward to filling on Saturday.

Lily's skirt

I have finished Lily's skirt and it is currently blocking. I haven't put in the elastic yet either.

It is the Hip in Hemp pattern, made from five colors of CotLin yarn from Knit Picks. I am apparently bad at math: the pattern called for THREE contrasting colors and one main color. I bought FOUR contrasting colors. I don't know why.

And I bought THREE balls of each color. I have two left over of each of the contrasting colors, and one left over of the main color.

Again....poor math skills, although using too many colors does explain some of the leftover yarn, but not all of it.

Other Ravelry knitters used CotLin for their Hip in Hemp skirts and that's why I chose it, but I'm not altogether happy with it. It's a heavy cotton/linen blend. Perhaps when it is dry, it will drape nicely and the weight will help with that----I hope.

Irony Perhaps?

Not really sure if this qualifies.

But anyhow, my Texas daughter finds the all-too-occasional tarantula in her house. For whatever reason, she doesn't kill them; she relocates them to the great outdoors. (Scorpions she kills. Yay.)I would have hoped to never see a tarantula...but,

my neighbor is out of town for three days and she asked if I would feed her various pets: 1 cat, two birds, two turtles, one supposed hermit crab-I have never seen it, and one TARANTULA.

Get OUT!  A pet tarantula???

I don't have to feed it (what on earth does it eat?); I just have to spray it with special water so that its exo-skeleton won't dry out. If it does dry out, the tarantula won't be able to move. To me, and probably to Martha Stewart, this is a GOOD thing. My neighbor says no: the dry exo-skeleton might cause the tarantula to shed said exo-skeleton ahead of schedule.

They SHED their exo-skeletons? Blechhh....Gaaaaaag....

She says not to worry, that chances are, the tarantula would eat it.

Oh, even better.

Who Knew?

There is knitting music!

Found on Ravelry.

Yes, I had too much free time today.

Something There Is

that doesn't love the outside, and it's currently living in my house.

All day yesterday I heard odd knocking and thumping sounds from my kitchen. I would listen, shake my head and decide that it was just the house/cabinets/whatever? settling. After all these years?

But this morning, Bad Boy Baxter was clawing at an area under the dishwasher that goes to the basement. I don't know why that opening is there, but it is. Baxter clawed, meowed, scratched and meowed some more. Now I KNOW something is there. It's not the house settling. It's probably a chipmunk.

There is a room in my basement we call dH's "workroom." However, it is sometimes a workroom, but it is mostly a hoarder's dreamworld/landfill/toxic site. And there is a door to the outside which is occasionally open when dH goes in and out while doing yard work. I believe that is when something got IN.

dH is going out of town for the week, so I'm going to ask him to set the havahart trap in his workroom/hoarder's world/landfill/future EPA site and hope that whatever is in the house gets in the trap instead of running around the kitchen. Granted, Baxter would be happy to chase it around, but I would not.

If it turns out to be a chipmunk, I'll say hi to it and set it free. If it's a rat, I'll scream like a girl and run.......

Tinking. Tinking. Tinking.

That's what I am doing.

I think I will stop knitting skirts after I finish (if I finish) this one. Skirts have the weird ability to sabotage me. I would swear that I had picked up the correct color for this round, but when I had finished FOUR rows in the light blue, I saw my mistake.

So now I am taking four rows out, stitch by stitch, because I am too certain that I would lose stitches if I just ripped the rows out.

Knitting is fun. Knitting is fun. Knitting is...oh, rats. It is FIVE rows......

It Worked!!!

The orange yarn in this picture is from the provisional cast-on. I've done crocheted provisional cast-ons before, but this is the first time that it just pulled right out when I needed to take it out.

This is the waistband for the Hip in Hemp skirt I am making for Lily. It won't take over a year as mine did!

I promise, Lily.

Attention Wal-Mart Shoppers

Or: truth is stranger than fiction.

Senior Citizens Flash Mob!

For more on their group: go here.

Dear Black and Blue Salvia,

Yes, you.

When I bought you and brought you home and planted you, I had such high hopes: beautiful flowers, butterflies, bees and hummingbirds swarming around you, and the contrast of your color with the other colors in my garden---it all sounded so wonderful.

I planted you. I fed you. I watered you. I pruned you when you needed it.

But did you cooperate? No, you did not. You rarely flowered. You spread all. over. the. place, putting other flowers in complete shade. So I worked and worked and worked to put you in the perfect spot for you.

But did that work? Were you happy with the space I provided?

No, you were not, and this year you have taken over way too much space.

So you are gone. I have pulled every bit of you OUT. The other flowers rejoice.

And if you dare show even one bit of green above the ground, I will carpet bomb you.

With Roundup.

You have been warned.

Innocence Lost

Poor Baxter.Until last Thursday night, Baxter has had a dream life. Everyone is nice to him; he doesn't have to share his kingdom with any other four-legged animals, and lately we have even allowed him to go out on the deck, with the steps blocked off and with us out there with him or just inside on the sofa by the windows. He loves to go out and sniff whatever it is he sniffs. Along with the garage, it's his only wilderness.

The world was a wonderful and kind and safe place.

But last Thursday night, when I was at knitting, dH forgot that he left the door to the deck open. He went upstairs, turned on the Tour de France, and forgot the rest of the world, including Baxter's wilderness world. After dark, he heard the sudden crash of the gate and the yowling of two cats. He ran downstairs and saw the orange cat that wanders the neighborhood and Baxter running after him around the to the front of the house. The orange cat ran across the street and Baxter hid. dH went inside to get a flashlight and searched for Baxter. Eventually he saw the reflection of the flashlight in Baxter's eyes but Baxter would not come out of the shrubbery.

I came home to find dH sitting at the edge of the driveway with a flashlight and a container of Baxter's treats. Baxter wouldn't come out. I took dH's place and talked to Baxter while dH went inside to get some tuna fish. Baxter cautiously emerged from the shrubs (he loves ME the most; it ain't bragging if it's true), and I grabbed him.

For two days Baxter hid in his cube, not even coming out for food. He is skittish and even now (Tuesday) mostly hides. He is a little more active when he appears and he is eating, but he is not back to his normal bad boy self.

Maybe Prozac for cats?

And the orange cat? HE needs to have a chat with his owners, who in cold weather, put a PINK quilted vest on him. I don't know for sure that he IS a he, but based on his behavior and Baxter's reaction, I'm pretty sure HE is.

Yarn Bombing Gone Bad?

Mrs. G Has Left the Building

but her shoes remain!

Perhaps this means that Mrs. G (of the Women's Colony) will be back!

Or she was running so fast to escape from Baxter that the shoes couldn't keep up.

Either way, it sure was lots of fun to meet her----Safe travels Mrs. G!

Wow!

This boulder is a relatively new installation at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

It must be a little weird to walk under it, but it's very cool.

My LA daughter can probably guess where we're going next time I visit.

And BG

(Before Google)From The New Yorker magazine

Did it used to be OK to not know something? I'll have to Google that.....

Are We In H*LL?