frog street and other miracles

* Just a note about my last post...if you click on the photo of the circus tent, you'll see that there's a tightrope walker at the neighborhood circus. I didn't really realize it when I posted the shot, but found it by accident, playing around in iPhoto the other day. It's convincing me that life is full of strange and wonderful surprises, that we might just pass by.

Happy Ostara to one and all! I am off to celebrate in a solitary ritual in a wee bit, though I've already planted the 3 baby rosemary plants outside in the sun. It's funny how very SPRING it feels here in the land of balmy breezes and overgrown green. Rains feel softer. The sun is warming up nicely.

Stephanie asked in my last entry comments "what the heck is frogging?" and to answer that question, I provide here the remnants of poor mohair Kiri, mid-frog. I think the term "frog" came from the phrase "rip it".


So a half-knitted shawl becomes this messy pile of re-usable yarn:



I fell in love with that Jo Sharp mohair all over again, ripping out the Kiri shawl. Gotta find a good use for it. The colors enchant me.

Last week I was driving in the Liliha area, and I crossed a street entitled Frog Street. I wanted to turn up it, but was late for a school function. I've gotta go back and snap a pic of the sign. What a great name for a knit blog; Frog Street. Any takers? Michelle?

And now, in the category of Thrilling Me To No End, we have this award winner:


Each night, a tiny square, a wee glass of cabernet, and I'm in heaven. It takes so little, I'm telling you. That, and the new Netflix account, promising me "Little Miss Sunshine" and "Art School Confidential" within the week. That and my friend Leah's visit, coming up tomorrow, which should ignite a firestorm of tarot reading, hiking and general tasting of the rainbow anew. Yum.

Maybe I'll even get my knitting mojo back...

barbecue dreams and a lost mojo

In attempt to hunt down my knitting mojo, I took advantage of my 4:30am awakening to grind away on my second blue sock. No inspiration, but it was cozy in the bed, the coffee was cheering and I got a bit done. I am about 1/2 an inch from starting on the heel flap. I'm thinking my Friday night dose of tivo'd tv, and Boston's pizza (aren't I an exciting woman?) should render this puppy well on its way to being a pair of socks. The mojo's been MIA for a couple of weeks now, as I fret and pout and want to start new projects, but have so much stuff on the needles that I won't allow it til some things get finished. I am going to frog Kiri. I want that Jo Sharp mohair for something else and Kiri was never meant to be done in such a fat sheddy yarn. Mostly I just want the feeling of obligation to finish it off my back.

I was slated to join P in Portland, Oregon this weekend, for four fun-filled days, a kickoff to my 2 week spring break. But an airfare which raised itself $300 over its already splurgy price nixxed that conjugal visit. Sigh...I am alone for another week, but having no school frees me up to follow my bliss, so I am looking forward to THAT. Still, time off the island, bonding with the man, plus the general joys of Portland, and the promise of brewpubs, multiple swanky yarn stores, plus Target and Trader Joe's was something I was excited about. Last night I had a dream of being in a restaurant with my West Virginia cousins, and I was trying to decide what to order. It was a barbecue place and I was struggling to decide between sauces and styles. Texas style? Memphis style? Carolina style? Of course it was only a dream, because in Real Life I would always go for Carolina barbecue, with its vinegary mustardy bite betraying my southern roots. Funny thing about the West Virginians...we ran all over the Ohio/Kentucky border a few years back, trying to track down this very famous barbecue pit, as part of my family's rare and wonderful mother-daughter road trip.

Someone in my neighborhood is tenting their house for termites! It looks like the circus has come to town.

2 little rants

Bad menstrual migraine this morning, requiring excedrin, total darkness, ice pack and ginger and complete stillness to treat. Plus reiki, as best as I could give it, and the comfort of dogs. Hours later, and I am somewhat better. My health is giving me fits these days, with one damn thing after another, seems to point to an imbalance of sorts. I think I need to go see an acupuncturist, for some sort of major chi unblocking or something. Yick. Always headachy, I didn't used to get these headaches tied to my period in the past. Is this a part of growing older? Is it a perimenopause thing? I am normally philosophical about my changing body but this predictable monthly migraine thing is a pain in the ass, not to mention the head. Arrrgh. What's more, it's a time waster. I had a long hike planned this morning, and now it's off. Happily, I am feeling more like myself, my 2 days of complete silence are doing me worlds of good, and the house is clean, more or less, allowing me to enjoy today's diet of grading papers, dog bathing and knitting, not to mention the Sunday night cable fare of "Rome" and "The L Word".

And now for something comletely different...a "Pride and Prejudice" rant. Does anyone out there besides me think that the part in the story where Lydia runs off with Wickham is just a big useless distraction? Yeah, we know Wickham's a cad, and Lydia is a shameless flirt, but really, Lizzie and Darcy have already more or less made up, and this silly elopement on Lydia's part is bothersome. We don't need it as a plot device, Wickham's misuse of Darcy's sister has already convinced us that he's no good, and Darcy has redeemed himself by getting all wet in the pond and such...okay, it's clear that Jane Austen's efforts are pearls before swine, in my case, but I'm just saying...

So we all know what I did yesterday. Knitted, ripped (I made a big mistake on the intarsia of Rosedale and had to correct it)and watched the BBC's version of "Pride and Prejudice" in its entirety. I also made some most excellent split pea with ham soup, and brushed the dogs. In complete silence.

Now, I'm going quietly about my business.

voiceless

Still sick. No voice now. Doctor was encouraging, saying that I needed to live through it, but that she could prescribe me things to help me do that. So now I have a powerful arsenal of decongestants, codeine and painkillers to ease my way. I'm okay with antibiotics not being prescribed for something viral. I'm also fine with just laying around the house in a morphine-induced fog, though it does hamper my knitting somewhat. My co-teacher is fretting at my absence, though. I have to keep reminding her of her own various absences and spells of the vapors when she gets riled up. Gah! Besides, since I continue to do most of the actual teaching, while she does most of the recordkeeping/grading/admin stuff, my voice is crucial. I know it's the burden of teaching on top of that that bums her out, as my sub is not a great teacher. But she's gotta suck it up til I can speak again without sounding like an unhappy frog.

It's a nice sunny day for once here in Nuuanu. Makes me wish I felt like getting out in it for some more active pursuit beyond sitting on the deck drinking orange juice.

In honor of all this sunshine, I bring you my long-neglected, now recently picked-up Rosedale. Progress is slow, but enjoyable. Blogless Michelle likened this colorway to tropical fruits, and I can see that. Note the mango-colored intarsia block. I'm a little tired of the intarsia, and to be quite honest, am not sure it really adds anything to the sweater. I am happy to have tried the technique, but it isn't anything I feel strongly about. Maybe it's just the codeine that's making me feel like anything beyond straight stockinette is too much trouble. pleh....gonna go drink some more tea now.