Happy Fourth of July!

Happy Independence Day to everyone here in the United States. For everyone else… wish you were here to join the party. I love our country! I love that there are other nations where people take pride in their homeland too.  I’m not trying to belittle any other country by saying this.  I love that people have came here from everywhere and still take pride in their ancestry.  Many cities host a variety of languages, food, dress styles, etc. rather than displaying a homogenized, blandness.  We can learn lots from one another and enjoy these differences, but we also know that on this day we all share a sense of common identity, unity and camaraderie.  Eating barbecue and watching things blow up can do that ! 

So often people here complain, myself included. It’s good to sit back and reflect on how good we really have it. I may not always agree (okay, so I often don’t) with decisions made by the government. But I’m free to complain, to vote for others or to try and change things myself.  

I can go to any church, or none at all. Recruiters from various religions are free to come to my door and I am free to tell them to “go away.”

Medical treatment isn’t free for most people, us included, but my kids have access to vaccines, antibiotics, emergency treatement and other medicines.  Paying for doctor visits, etc. may be expensive, but it’s still optional.

Often  people complain about public schools, but the reality is that if families emphasize education at home and the kids put in the effort our children can get first rate educations. I find it ridiculous when people complain that their kids don’t learn anything and that the school’s suck when those same people’s children come home from school and turn on the television or play video games for hours, often without adult input or supervision. 

Food here is plentiful and still costs less per-capita than in many other developed countries.  Many of our nations’ health problems are self-inflicted because of poor food choices.  Ahem, cough, cough… I’m completely guilty of the sheer quantity and quality that lead to my current waistline.  Some people still have trouble stretching to buy food after other bills, but there are often government programs and many private organizations generously help.

There is no Utopia and life isn’t perfect no matter where you live, but I’m grateful and proud to be an American. Don’t worry, I’m not going to play a Lee Greenwood song.  Off to take the kids to the beach and watch things blow up. Cheers! 

p.s. posting away from home so no pictures

Childhood and a Birthday.

Thursday, while A1 played tennis in the baking hot sun the other girls and I sneaked away. A2, A3 and I roamed aimlessly. We ate ice cream. A2 rode around town with her head out the window. Finally we stopped to play on a the playground of a deserted school where the two of them were thrilled to discover a dandelion-covered hillside.

The girls delighted in running down the hill full throttle. Up and down, up and down. All the while exclaiming about the “pretty flowers”.

Eventually they ran out of steam.

Although I’ve cultivated a winning crop of dandelions in my yard I profess to not being a fan. When the weeds start getting out of control we know it’s time to mow the lawn again. It annoys me to no end that these things grow relentlessly in our yard, but never dare grace the neighbors’ lawns. However, watching the girls having so much fun made me appreciate them in a whole new way. Who decided that dandelions were weeds anyway?

In the afternoon I responsibly baked bread.

Unfortunately, intentions for making some healthy vegetable soup for a well-rounded meal were sidetracked. Sounds of the girls playing in the pool were just too darned tempting. I traded my apron for a bathing suit (mine has an attached skirt, thank you very much) and joined them.

We splashed, played and generally acted silly. We ate cold cereal with our bread for dinner.

Today we’re heading out to my parents’ house for Dad’s birthday and the Fourth of July. I think my dad is turning 39… I could be wrong, he looks much younger.

Happy birthday Dad!

A Finished Object

Meandering Vines Shawl

WTF Wednesday w/ New Contest Link

WTF When: July? Really? June was a lost month. Short as the month seemed there was no end to the WTF fodder. 

WTF Art: The first three offerings come courtesy of this past weekend’s Recycled Arts Festival. Imagine spending hours diligently transforming old metal into beautiful jewelry. The jewelry turns out so spectacular that you really, really want to keep it. The problem is that you’ve signed up and paid for a vendor’s booth in advance and darn it if the organizer’s don’t want you to sell your creations. The perfect solution: display said jewelry on an autopsied dead baby/zombie doll! If the putrid color and blank eye sockets don’t scare away potential customers then the pins protruding from the doll’s fingertips are sure to scream, “Don’t Touch!” 

Anyone can keep their creations near and dear to them with similar display models. Word of warning though, these little guys are expensive.

Have lots of scrap metal just laying around oxidizing? Well fire up the blow torch, add your old high school band instrument and voila! Instant lawn art.  

I’d put this in my yard! Seriously.

Finally, I catch a lot of flack at home for my lack of fashion sense. Nary a day goes by when one or more of my children, and occasionally even my D.H. doesn’t comment on my hum drum, dreary mom clothes.  What’s wrong with wearing kitty cat pajama bottoms and baggy t-shirts? Anyway, I’ve decided to spice things up and take a fashion cue from this young lady.

The contouring stripes stretched over my nether regions would shut the critics up once and for all.  I wonder if that tutu comes in green.

WTF Mistakes:  Yesterday my DH came home from work about the time that the smoke alarms went off. Even with the kitchen window open and the fan on high the dense, eye-stinging smoke lingered all evening.  I’d been making homemade baked beans and although the little suckers had been parboiled the day before, soaked all night and spent hours in the oven with molasses, ham, etc. they were still quite al dente.  This particular 25 pound bag of beans has given me nothing but trouble and they remain stubbornly hard no matter what I do. I never salt the water ahead of time and I’ve tried every trick in the book to soften them up.  Anyway, yesterday when I made a pre-dinner check they remained hard as pebbles. In desperation I pulled the dutch oven out of the oven, added some extra water to the beans and put it on the range hoping that bringing the pot to a boil might cook them.  It didn’t work. In fact, it failed miserably. The beans were already bubbling from three hours in the oven. Adding inferno-like heat to the bottom of the pan transformed the contents into a solid, hard, blackened beany mess.  I made sandwiches for dinner and then proceeded to soak the pan. The scorch job was so complete that I’ll probably have to scour and re-season the cast iron Dutch oven. Nuts. 

Anyway, during the soaking process my DH sidled up to me and said, “Bet you won’t blog about that, you want everyone to think you’re perfect.” 

Au contraire, Dear Husband, contraire. Not only will I blog about this, but I’ll even share a picture of the aftermath.  For the record, I do not think I am, nor do I ever intentionally try to make people think that I think I’m perfect.  Silly man, if he actually read my blog then he’d know that… but then he’d also know how often Sven visits and about my yarn acquisitions. Doh!  Rather than correct him, I’ll just let him think I’m pretentious.  I think I’ll $hit can those  unruly beans.

WTF Knitter’s Tan: Or in this case, knitter’s sunburn.  Two of my daughters are attending tennis camp this week so we’re at the courts from 8:30 until 12:30 each day.  Yesterday I decided to bring along my shawl and knit while waiting in the van. The shawl draped over my right leg, but the sun shone in directly on my left. Oopsy doodles!

Have a happy Wednesday!

ps, for all of you really into vintage linens, there is an amazing contest happening here!  Go check it out and enter for a chance to win some lovely flour sack dishcloths, patterns and floss.

If You Give A Knitter

new yarn, chances are she will want to immediately cast on with it.

Knitting the project will remind her that she wants to put a zipper in it.   She’ll go through a bag of clothes in the garage that have been waiting to be donated in order to get a zipper.

Which will remind her that she needs to clean the garage. The piles of clothes, etc. will remind her that a family friend is selling her wares at the Recycled Arts Festival in town this weekend so she’ll pack up the family and head down to find the friend.

Once at the RAF she’ll see the statue of George Washington (or some other old guy) holding flowers, which will make her want to visit the rose garden.

While looking at the roses nearby noise will remind her of the arts festival so she’ll resume walking to the vendor’s booths.  Once at the vendor’s booths she’ll be reminded of her own knitting and want to pull it out.

Until she sees a sign that says “Recycled Pets” which makes her (and her girls) go visit the animals, where there is a disturbing number of kitties looking for new homes.   She’ll visit the sad, hot kitties until her DH reminds her that they can’t afford a new pet.

Everyone will now want to go home and visit with their own kitties. While petting the family cats the knitter will see DD#2 playing with the kitty using a piece of yarn. The yarn will make the knitter  remember the newly-knitted bag.

She’ll decide to put lining in the newly-knitted bag

So she’ll go to the garage to pull bins of fabric from the shelves. While pulling out the bins she’ll stumble across quilting projects started 13+ years ago.

She’ll lay out the blocks to see that they look like and notice that one more is needed.

While looking for the missing block the knitter will find fabric left over from when her mother made her a dress when she was in the fifth grade.

Remembering that her mother used to make lots of her clothes will make her want to sew something for her mom so she’ll pull out some fabrics.

Seeing the fabric will remind her that she’s supposed to be finding lining for a newly knitted project. Which will remind the knitter that she has new yarn.

And chances are that if she sees the new yarn she’ll want to start a new knitting project. The End.

We never did find our friend, but I may drive down again today to look. The heat and a tired DH (he had a terrible headache) prevented us from staying too long.  Frankly, I was glad to leave too.  I can’t tolerate heat due to my M.S. and the place reeked of patchouli, was very loud and very crowded; all of which added to the chaotic atmosphere.  It was heartbreaking to see the all of the abandoned cats and my girls were a little upset over that as well.

On another note, I love the little bag (shown holding my ever-present tin of Altoids, a bottle of Advil and my cell-phone). I hope to make more in different shapes and sizes for Christmas presents. Personally, I need a huge bag because I always bring lots of stuff because you never know what you may need. It’s an OCD thing… I’ve made my peace with it.

Monogamy, Cheating and Portland

mo·nog·a·my  Function: noun Etymology: French monogamie, from Late Latin monogamia, from Greek, from monogamos monogamous, from mon- + gamos marriage, from gamein to marry

1archaic : the practice of marrying only once during a lifetime

2: the state or custom of being married to one person at a time

3: the condition or practice of having a single mate during a period of time

I believe all marriages, and long-term relationships between adult people, should be monogamous. Always.  If one partner is unhappy and feels the need to seek companionship elsewhere then he/she needs to either 1. seek counseling or 2. get a divorce. If the significant other has morphed into some unrecognizable monster that’s still no excuse. Chances are, there was never any morphing, just lovesick blindness to that person’s fault. Even so, all parties involved deserve the dignity of ending a marriage before infidelity occurs. *Now that I’ve made this point clear I can continue.

Knitting is not marriage.  I am not a monogamous knitter. I “cheated” on my shawl yesterday. Not only did I cheat, but I fell off of the “Not Buying any New Yarn” wagon in order to do so.   A spineless, cowardly cop out would be to blame Penny or the yarn fumes of the store for my weakness. But the truth is, I loved the petting, squeezing, smelling and other foreplay involved in choosing new yarn partners. These were my choices following yesterday’s trip out.

This is a mostly CASHMERE blend purchased at Knit Knot Studio. Knit Knot is a small shop with a delightfully friendly owner. The only other time I’d been there it was closed.  I fell hard in love/lust with this yarn, but this was the last skein of this colorway and it was already partially knitted into the embryonic scarf seen above. The owner generously pulled if off of the needles, marked it down and sold it to me. The fun bits of random color remind me of dried straw flowers. The remainder of the scarf will be frogged and this will be remade into a cowl for a Christmas present. It’s very squishy.

This Noro Daria is shiny, unique and completely charming. A knitted display clutch made using a single skein prompted me to buy some and start one of my own.  Sitting in road construction on the way home provided a perfect opportunity to wind it into a ball. This little bag will also go into the Christmas gift pile.

 

The final yarn purchase of yesterday was a skein ofNoro Silk Garden Sock Yarn in color number S292.  I absolutely adore the color gradations in Noro, but I cringe at the roughness of the yarn. Countless people, not just yarn store owners, have assured me that it softens up with washed. I succumbed and hope that it works. I plan to try two at once, toe up so the OCD part of me can make the colors match and still use as much of the yarn as possible.

Penny was delightfully charming as usual. I should have taken pictures of her, but we were so busy talking and walking that it just never happened. Our time was extremely limited because A3’s appointment ran long and Penny needed to pick up her husband in another part of Portland by 2:00.  We met up near Knit Purl.  Because that particular store is easy to find I’ve been there a lot. They were having a 10% off anything lace sale (patterns, yarns, etc.) but I really wanted to check out the afore-mentioned shop. This is a quick shot of a church kitty-corner from Knit Purl. 

While walking down to Knit Knot Studio we passed this store catering to dogs.  It just happened to be next to one of my favorite signs that appear randomly throughout Portland as well.  Wrong or not, the image of the little man flying over the handles of the bicycle always makes me laugh.

While walking we ducked into Powell’s to use the facilities.  Penny needs to come back again when she has more time and spend a day book shopping. This sculpture across from their main entrance always makes me chuckle too.  I don’t know if it’s supposed to be a representation of an actual object or just abstract art, but to me it looks like a giant camera lens brush. On wheels.

Penny bought some gorgeous yarn, but because some of it is destined for others I shan’t speak of it here.  I loved our brief jaunt through the city though. Portland is a wonderful place to walk in with lots to do (don’t get me started on the driving though). Hopefully we can do it again.

My Dh and the girls returned home shortly after I did. He got to see A3 in action on her final day of Wrestling camp. She’s very disappointed that it’s over and even knowing that tennis starts next week did little to cheer her up.  All three girls worked together to make the Friday pizza. A1,  made a happy pizza (who needed a few more minutes in the oven after this was taken).

A2 was more philosophical and chose to make a sad pizza. Her reasoning was that food should not be happy when it’s about to be eaten.

He was yummy!

*This is even true of imaginary friends. Sven and I only ever knit, talk and eat chocolate.

Good Friday Morning!

What a beautiful, sunny morning!  Just cooking pancakes

and spinning some of the recently-dyed fiber.

I want to make sock yarn out of this.

A little later A3 has a doctor’s but after that I have a “Get Out of Jail Free” card so I’m heading down to Portland to hang out with Penny!  We haven’t made definite plans yet, but they will probably include visiting a yarn store or two and getting a cup of coffee. Just a relaxing meet up. No pole dancing or wild men (at least that I’ll confess to). Cheers!

Quick and Dirty

Okay, so maybe not dirty, but definitely quick.  Yesterday I snagged some smaller portions of the wool and dyed/re-dyed them with much greater success than with the previous attempts. Now I want to spin. Unfortunately, no wheel time today.

One of my latest indulgences is Metromint flavored waters.  I’m partial to the chocolate.

Of course it will never really replace chocolate, but it does tend to make me feel less deprived.  This is also one of the only flavored waters I’ve found that doesn’t contain any sugar or artificial sweeteners. The latter of which wreak havoc with my M.S.  An ongoing addiction to Diet Coke has been mostly controlled in recent years. Having this as a substitute helps tremendously.

Elsewhere, my eldest has been exceptionally supportive of her youngest sister’s wrestling. She’s even volunteered to go in early today to help pass out team shirts.  Lest you mistakenly think her abnormally altruistic  I’d like to present some evidence for your consideration.

Members of the high school wrestling team serve as assistant coaches for the younger kids. For the last few minutes of each day everyone divides up onto teams and plays dodgeball. Thank heavens they always put A3 on the “shirts” side. Yesterday A2 joined the end of the day game (also on the shirts side).  Cheers!

WTF Wednesday

WTF Cats: I have never met a cat who didn’t jump at the chance to drop a stink pickle into a freshly scooped litter box. My current kitties are no exception.  Lately attempts to scoop the offensive waste immediately after each use to minimize the stench have been thwarted by Tasha. For months now she’s had problems with aim. Instead of  landing all of the “kids in the sandbox”  several turds inevitably end up stuck to the sides of the box or on the floor.  And as if that weren’t enough, this past week she’s been holding reserves for when I’m done. It goes something like this. I hear telltale scratching in the box, gather the garbage can and scooper then wait outside the sunroom until the transaction’s been completed. Then I swoop in, scoop the box, take the garbage to the outside bin (I don’t want that nasty smell under the kitchen sink) and put a fresh garbage bag in the inside can.  Tasha, however, has started waiting until I exit the house with the dirty garbage bag, then she gets back in the box and finishes off-loading.  This morning  I waited just on the other side of the garage door with the can so I could clean up round two without wasting a bag and having to make a second trip all the way outside. When I peeked in to see if she was done I discovered her poised on her hunches while dead eyeing the garage door.  She knew I was there. We had a stand off.  She sat in the box. I stood in the doorway. We stared one another down. I blinked first.  I finally left and went back to housework then rescooped the box later.  The old girl may have won this round, but tomorrow’s another day.

WTF Look-a-likes: I regularly check out Fail Blog  and Look-a-likes (both are part of the I Can Has Cheezburger group). Someone did a great job matching these two photos.

 

WTF Insecure, Sexist Parents: Okay, so today was day two of wrestling for my eight year old daughter.  Today we packed food, entertainment for her sisters and stayed to watch.  This day camp is operated by the Community Center where we live and it was open to boys and girls between the ages of 5 and 14.  A3 was/is the only girl.  My previous concerns for her safety had nothing to do with the fact that she was wrestling against boys. Another mom, who is wonderful and amazingly intuitive, stayed with them yesterday and gave A3 a ride home.  She was horrified at the positions and angles the kids struggled to achieve in order to stretch.  She was concerned that someone would injure their necks, etc.   Those fears were alleviated when I saw A3 in person.  The girl is like Gumby.  Just for fun I’ve seen her warp herself into knots that a pretzel maker couldn’t imagine. The warm ups were so not an issue.  

Not many of the parents stayed to watch because the practice sessions are three hours long, but several of us lingered along the mats. I was so proud of A3. She stayed focused, worked hard and listened to the coaches. She has ADHA with an emphasis on the H so her normal attention span would rival that of a gnat’s.  In addition to being flexible, she’s fast and never holds still. These factors put her on a fairly even playing field with the boys, many of whom were stronger.

I’ve never watched wrestling before, but it was fun. I cheered for her. I cheered for her opponents. I cheered for every kid out there giving it his (or her) all and having a great time. So I was surprised when one of the other mothers said to me, “The boys are just letting her win because they don’t want to hurt a girl.”  WTF? At this age they’re just kids who still think that members of the opposite sex have cooties.   Here is a very short cell-phone video of her with a partner (not one of the woman’s boys).  Sorry that it’s so blurry. She’s in the orange shirt.

 

You go girl!

WTF Fiber: Dave Daniels  is wonderful and talented. He loves all things fiber and is genuinely concerned for the well-being of the wool in my household.  True, I’ve committed some terrible atrocities while attempting to spin, dye and knit. He sent a link showing some wonderful pictures of wool similar to mine dyed lovingly by Spacekitty. With these as inspiration I’m going to break this

into smaller bundles and send it through the dyepots one more time. Hopefully I won’t end up with dreadlocks!  If I had one of  these, complete with extra cats, I’d get the yarn spun up in no time flat too!

Kid Day *Updated*

Monday shall henceforth be renamed “Kid Day” at our house.  Not only did we have two extras (we always have at least one) to entertain and feed we also had sports camps from 10:30 am until 4:00 pm.   Cookies never seem to last long in the summer so baking day (Sunday) now happens every other day.

Because not all of the children have scheduled activities at the same time that means lots of impromptu activities and entertainment.  I don’t want them sitting in front of the television having their brains turn to mush, nor do I want whining and fighting to break out.  Yesterday we  ran crafts in cycles. Earlier the girls gathered lots of wildflowers to make bracelets and there were enough flowers to supply several sessions. The flowers are  looking a little withered this morning.

A visitor tried her  hand/foot at spinning on Old Blue, but she soon became discouraged and joined the others in needle felting. All five girls thoroughly enjoyed transforming wool into various shapes. Luckily there weren’t any injuries. Those needles are vicious.  Here is the kitty in progress that my talented daughter (A2) is making.

The needle felting activity proved successful enough that I was able to sneak away and dye some yarn and wool.  This lace weight is actually more of a periwinkle color, but it didn’t photograph well.

The wool roving didn’t turn out as I’d hoped, but maybe it will spin up differently.  The brown wool really resisted taking the overdyes of red and green.

The white wool took the color, but it’s extremely fragile and hard to keep together. Maybe a trip through a drum carder would realign the fibers and make them stronger to spin. No, I don’t have a drum carder, just thinking.

Today I’m staying to watch A3 wrestle. I’ve some safety concerns because of the wide range of ages involved and some of the exercises (extreme neck rolls, etc.) worry me.  An 8 year old girl’s neck is much more delicate than a 14 year old boy’s. She seems to be having a good time, but I don’t want her to overdo it.  Yes, I’m overly protective at times.  It’s my job. I’m good at it.  Happy Tuesday!

*Update: Okay, organized people without copious amounts of extended stress may not get this.  Today on the way home from dropping off the eldest and her friend at Volleyball Camp I realized that I’M HAPPY!  Meaning that I’m not simply going through the motions of work and motherhood while smiling and constantly trying to hide feelings of anxiety and panic.  For months now increasing stress at work combined with  feelings of inadequacy at home for not being the end-all beat-all of mothers have taken their toll.  I scrambled just to remember activities, schedules, keep food in the house and enough clean clothes for my family. Any little road bump in daily plans set me off into fits of tears or maniacal screaming/cussing.  It’s not that I didn’t realize my behavior was teetering on the edge of insanity, I just felt helpless to change circumstances contributing to these feelings.  I’m not even sure at how successful I was at hiding my stress.  When co-workers made comments about being a “bitter old hag” that makes me suspect a certain degree of transparency. The first several days after school ended we all (meaning the girls and I) just decompressed from the past 9 months. Now that some control in life has been re-established I’ve decided that I don’t want to take a summer job. I want to be a mom. I want to go fishing. I want to do something completely wild like cliff diving or racing motorcycles… okay, so maybe nothing that wild, but it’s good to be back.  We may be forced to eat lots more beans as the summer wanes and I don’t have a paycheck coming in. That’s okay, sanity makes it worth eating beans.  Cheers!