A late Wedding Shawl or a Knitted Ghost or

Lucy back with some pictures: Here is the sister-in-law's Kristin's belated shawl supposed to have been part of possible options on the festivities on 7/7/7, but not finished until -- oh, yeah, still not finished, but bound off and just a few ends to be sewn in and then blocked. It is pretty fabulous, if in fact filled with mistakes. The pattern came from Knitpicks "Rectangular Cover Shawl" (http://www.knitpicks.com/Rectangular+Cover+Shawl_PD50473220.html ). And the yarn was also knitpicks: Merino Wool in lace weight - "jewels" color since she said something about lilacs and I thought about the "color blue" myth: http://www.knitpicks.com/Shadow_YD5420127.html

Maybe because knitting this sweater haunted me through the spring and summer (and another relationship break up), I've portrayed it as ghost here. It also matches this pretty japanese wood block from my grandfather.

And then here is the baby sweater, but without baby. It was actually begun for another friend, but has now been received in Duluth to be worn by Sky Johnson, son of Kirsten Aune and Chad Johnson and baby brother to Forestasia Aune -- it apparently fits, though I've used a chapstick to show you how tiny the thing was:

Also from knitpicks sock yarn and a knitpick pattern, but I converted it to the round, and I don't remember much else about it. The buttons came from the button box. Yeah.

I love the blog already because Chelsea has already followed up about my missing pattern. Hope everyone is happy.

Lucy

p.s. here is Kim and Curtis in my guest bed:

[Kim appears to think the picture is unflattering and it may be deleted if she protests enough]

Without a Vote or a Pattern

Kim recently flew into what she calls the "old country" and convinced me to join the festivities on Knitted Brow. It is somewhat appropriate since I think my ex-boyfriend came up with the name for the blog before it existed. So here, I am, Lucy of the District of Columbia, where we don't have the vote (call your senator and representatives and suggest it would make me happier if I might have one since I have to live with all of them).

Like Kim, I have a dog. Indeed Ella probably met my dog Curtis before I met Kim, but they became fast friends and so did we. That was back in the glory days of Sacramento -- but now we and the dogs are about as far away as we can be. A picture should appear somewhere of Curtis in front of the marine memorial. Unlike Kim and Ella, Curtis and I rarely compete except over couch space. He did come in third place for cutest senior dog this spring.


As to knitting, I tend to knit in the round (I hate seaming) and I buy yarn on sale whenever possible. My knitting gure is Jaqueline Fee and her sweater workshop book (http://www.amazon.com/Sweater-Workshop-Jacqueline-Fee/dp/0892725338) Apparently it just got mentioned in a podcast, because all these people are joining the related yahoo group about it. The group is not that interesting if you don't have the book, so buy first and then join.

I just finished gifts: a little baby sweater made from Knitpicks sock yarn that is cute (and done in the round despite the free pattern). If pictures of baby arrive, I shall post. I also finished a lace shawl for my new sister-in-law. It was supposed to be for the wedding on 7/7/7, but it took a bit longer. Her birthday is Friday, so I can quick sew in the ends and block it and pretend it is her gift. Hurrah. Now I need to get back to the aran sweater for my father, but I've lost the pattern which I copy out of Knits for Men and then converted to the round. Anyone have that book and want to copy the pattern for an aran which has patterns for both a man and boy? I can find the name, if you have the book. I'm looking around for a project to make ME something, but . . . haven't found it yet.

Otherwise, Kim and I had a fine time at Crafty Bastards -- she bought t-shirt, wool, and ?. I bought two pillows. At a store across the street I bought a new funky dress. Then we both got spa pedicures -- fabulous and returned to our new favorite bar, Bar Pilar.

Likely themes for me here will be: not knitting, attempting to go the gym and/or cook dinner, and what book I am reading. Just started a book called Miles and Me about Miles Davis.

I do get a gold star since I went to the gym last night -- I don't know how to insert a gold star but imagine one!

Aloha, Lucy

in the kitchen and a glimpse of cedar

It was, is, and may still be a rather satisfying weekend, offering up an air show on the beach, decent dog training, and the homemade brownie, courtesy of Cook's Illustrated:
I have to say, these brownies absolutely rock. They are simple, intense and moist. I am a big fan of Cook's Illustrated, the magazine and the cookbook. I like Christopher Kimball's little editorial letter each issue, extolling the virtues of Vermont's rural lifestyle, and I like the fact that the magazine is all about the test kitchen. And these brownies, well, I'm all about the baking from scratch.

In an unprecendented flurry of domesticity, I also made this Moroccan Chickpea Chili, from this month's Cooking Light magazine. Warm and rich, with cinnamon, turmeric, cumin, this promises to deliver some heavenly lunches this week.


I lost no time in bouncing back on the knitting horse after the debacle that was Clapotis. I am nothing, if not resilient.
So I've started Marilyn's Not So Shrunken Cardiigan from the inimitable Knit and Tonic Wendy. I have to say, this is one well-written pattern. I'm a bit of a baby when it comes to reading and understanding just what the knit designers are telling me to do, but Wendy...she gives good pattern. I'm using Jo Sharp Silkroad DK, in a beautiful color called "Cedar", and it is, indeed, the color of cedar trees after a rain, but it's a fickle color, at times showing black, sometimes showing a blue green cast, sometimes just a grey green. This shot, I think, on this monitor I'm using, is fairly true to sunlight. The yarn is soft, squishy, crispy and tweedy, all at once. Satisfactory stockinette, of course, with just a few increases ongoing, to keep it interesting. A veritable love fest, thus far.

i can't get no satisfaction

Okay, this is a painful thing to say, but I am gonna rip that Clapotis. In my desire to "norm" the 3 different dyelots of the colorway (screaming bright, jolly bright, and faded bright) I was alternating between skeins; knitting 2 rows in one, then 2 rows in another. I liked the color effect, but it was hell on the texture and balance of the edges of the scarf; as the side with the alternating skeins, where I was changing and picking up, was lumpy and tight, due to my tight-ass gauge - no doubt trying to make the thing in too little yarn to begin with.

So. Once I started dropping stitches, it started to look even botchier. I probably wouldn't worry about it, but I've knitted enough Clapotis (clapoti?) to know when something doesn't look right. And the silk/merino combination of the Lion and Lamb should have been so very drapey, but the tight-ass edge was grinding away at me. So. The plan is to rip. Only not now. Because unraveling all that knitting in 2 different skeins (read tangled and twisted around each other, no doubt) is gonna suck nickels. I need something happier on a Friday night.

It would seem that I am a process knitter after all. Even though the product was unsatisfactory, I'm unphased by the intimation that there will be no product at this point.

I am not as sad as one might expect. In fact I'm a little glib about it all. You see, I was tiring of all that pepto pink, and kinda jonesing for a break in the Clapotis horserace. I'm actually wondering if I dare to OVERDYE the yarn? Be still my beating heart. Giggle.

Just to end on a happy note...

Dog zen continues.

sacrifice

I observed 9/11 by going to yoga class, much in the way I did in 2001. It's good to be present. At the end of the class, the instructor, an amazing yogini, gave us a "Namaste for your hard work and sacrifice, tonight." It has me wondering about the nature of sacrifice. During the inversions part of the class (before the mention of sacrifice) I found myself doing the "hanged man thing" with my legs:

Then later, considering the meaning of that card, among other things; sacrifice. Mine, that of others' and the notion that it need not be huge, to be counted.

Work has been odd lately. I've had to cancel a lot of my groups, due to special classroom visitors, field trips, etc, leaving me enough downtime to de-stress, catch up on paperwork, and generally lay low at school. I am, after yesterday's awful depression and teariness (which I am attributing to the waning moon) calm and happy. The elusive phantom of sanity seems, for a moment, closer.

Clapotis continues. I am now dropping stitches on the straight rows, and alternating between 2 differently colored dyelots of the same colorway, to keep the colors reasonably uniform.

On Saturday, my friend from CA, Hawkheart called me. She's been summering in Costa Rica, and was calling to announce her return and to check in. We had a 4 hour phone conversation, catching up on everything under the sun. Hawkheart is a teacher, dog trainer, brainiac, pagan and all-around sister to me, and we have a lot to talk about, in the words of our other friend Clary, we had ourselves the "long jaw." In the course of this extended exchange, I mentioned to her about my nascent handspinning pursuits, and asked her if she still had her spinning wheel. It has occupied her living room, as long as I've known her, and she used to bring it to school, I think, for demos, many a long year past. She responded with "K-brow, if you want my spinning wheel it's yours." After repeated attempts to convince her she was crazy and that she'd wake up regretting it, we agreed that I'd take it off her hands when I could, and she'd hold it for me til I could do so. It's a Louet, maybe 20 years old? In good condition, though maybe in need of a tune-up. Thing is, I'm in no hurry to get it, though a spinning wheel is one of my dreams, for the future. I will try to visit her next year and pick it up, when I can. Meanwhile, I'll continue to spin away on my little drop spindle. I'm amassing a number of lumpy little balls of Corriedale yarn.

sore wrist and a rude awakening.

Trying to ride this moon's energy, as it wanes out of sight; cleaning and purging my house, closet, fridge...I think we call it the anti-spring cleaning. I've really been feeling the moon, lately, maybe because I've spent more time than usual at the beach, wallowing in the bathwater-temperate sea.

This won't be a long post; my wrists hurt from knitting. Clapotis does that to me every time! It's some deadly combination of knit/purl, in just the right length to bang out several frenetic rows. The relief knitting I have is a sock, not so cool for the wrists either. I'm giving it a combination of ice, reiki and aspirin, but I think sleep will help.

P is back from Samoa, with no real travel plans in the upcoming future.

Just because there's been no "Wild Kingdom" news on this blog, recently, doesn't mean there hasn't been something going on on that front around here. I was being a good worker bee, vacuuming the bathroom, this afternoon, and slammed the vacuum into a baseboard...only to have it crumble like so much sawdust. Termites. Bloody hell. A closer inspection revealed a fair number of the wood features of the bathroom to be disentegrating to the touch. Ugh. I don't know when it started. I usually clean the bathroom with a broom and swiffer, easier on the baseboards. A call to our friend Geno will give us some idea of how to proceed to get rid of the buggers; I fear it's a tenting of the house (circus season, anyone?) and then some replacement carpentry, but maybe it won't be so complicated...sigh. I hate to tent the place. On the one hand, it would show the cockaroaches who's boss, once and for all (not!) but it would take its toll on the geckos, not to mention the effects on us and our animals, living in a place that's infused with chemicals. ugh.

Here to dispute the assertion that Hawaii is paradise, and the assumption that owning a house is any kind of picnic. Wish I had a landlord...well, sometimes.

Off to lay in my termite riddled bathtub and pout now. At least there's chamomile tea.

home

It's the end of summer. Even though Mabon isn't here, summer, for all intents and purposes, is done. Our tangerines are turning the faintest yellow, the plumeria's blooms are sparser, but the gardenia's blooming hard, still, as are the hibiscus, and the plumbago.
Two years ago today, I landed in Hawaii; a new resident. In the course of that eventful day, I picked up my 2 cockatiels out of animal quarantine, had a joyous reunion with Ella, met a new friend - a coworker of my husband's, who picked me up at the airport, as P was off-island. I had the car overheat and die on me, I took a horrendously expensive taxi ride back home, ferreted out gin and spaghetti sauce in the fridge, made dinner, met our local UPS guy, who has become a friend, as well, and spent hours just sitting on my top step, watching grey pearly clouds move across an indigo sky, thinking "home...I'm home..."

Am I home? I was so tired of traveling, preparing to move, back then. Then, later, came the ambivalence, the loneliness, the isolation that Hawaii can bring to the haole stranger, accustomed to living at the crossroads of the world. Later came more friends, new adventures, time exploring this place, surrounded by wind and sea. A new dog, employment, diversions. I am home for the time being. It's not always good, it's not the love-fest that living in Arlington was for me, but it is home base now.


This was taken in a Nuuanu restaurant, the Hungry Lion, the site of the NRN's recent outing. It is like a glorified Denny's, local style. Outlandish paintings of savannah surround the inside of the place, and there's a big tree, like a kapok tree holding up the center beam of the restaurant, if I recall. Decent food, comfy booths, a nice waiter. Another thing to make me feel at home.

Clapotis has had a hard week, and has, after endless dithering, a redesign and consult with knitting folk, been ripped and is being re-knit in a more satisfactory way. Many thanks to Blogless Michelle, who coached me through my drama, and then gracefully came over tonight to hang out to watch "Jesus Camp" with me.

I am up too late, waiting for my sheets and bedspread to dry. I might just sleep in the guest bedroom, with all my yarn stash.

a peek at clapotis

Clapotis is one of my favorite patterns ever. It suits my criteria of having miles of stockinette, along with little bits of oddments, like increasing, decreasing, dropping stitches, but for the most part, it's an easy-peasy knit up.

This is my 4th Clap, and I'm savoring it, though I'm not entirely convinced that I'm in love with the colors anymore. But the yarn, Lorna's Laces Lion and Lamb, is just lucious and yummy.

My hope is that I'll finish this in time for my trip back to my Olde Country at the end of September. I think it'll be just the cozy comfort on that 13-hour flight...

Tonight is dedicated to the furthering of mundane tasks. Scooping dog poop from the backyard. Washing dishes. Recycling. Stealing and re-formatting my husband's iPod shuffle, as he has run off to Samoa with my iPod. It makes sense, it's just a game we play with those funny little nuggets of technology, continually swapping my preferred playlist for his and vice versa.

Interesting in relationships, who is perceived to "own" what in the household...even for things that were bought communally. I have a lot of trouble sharing a computer, though we have done so for the past year. I've worked out a lot of my problems with it, and the upshot is that I spend a lot less time on it, now, which isn't a bad thing, entirely. The power tools are somehow designated as "mine" even though I rarely use them. Ditto the leaf blower, the weed wacker and the lawn mower, which is currently on loan to my friend Marie, as I've hired a lawn service, like all the people in my neighborhood. (I'm not proud of this, but our property is steep and rocky and I'm damned if I'm gonna mow it, and I think that's the attitude of most of the neighbors, here, too.) Of course the blender and mixer are also mine, yet P somehow gets the tv, though I am the hardcore user of the tivo function. The digital camera...I'm the only person who ever uses it. I do not ever touch the 2 electric guitars in the house, though I have been know to use the sewing machine a time or two.

I have a dvd to watch: "Life is Beautiful", and leftover tandoori chicken and roast veggies. Oh, and cherry jello. Ahhh, dessert.

forbidden pagoda

I grew up playing in the graveyards of rural Virginia churches, and old overgrown family plots that my sis and I used to stumble upon in the woods. I don't fear the dead, as a general rule, though I have a healthy respect for ghosts and spirits. During the brief time that P and I lived in Falls Church, our apartment overlooked a cemetary. I remember telling a friend in CA about our location, and he asked me "So, are you taking long contemplative walks through the graveyard at dusk, now?" and I had to laugh, because it wasn't far from the truth.



Ella and I took a walk to our local cemetary, er, "memorial park" yesterday, to view a big pagoda on the grounds. The access road to the pagoda has been closed for the whole time I've been here, but I was going to go take some pix of it anyway. We were pleased to find the road open yesterday, and we could go down to it. It featured this graceful moat around a smaller temple, with koi, and even smaller pagoda sculptures.

Of course, then, the whole expedition became an exercise in keeping my water-lovin' dog out of the moat.

Today, the husband flies to Samoa for a week of work, while I stay behind and hold down the fort. As I wrote earlier, I welcome the routine and mundane, right now, so this suits me. The order of the day, alas, is housecleaning, as I do not like to be home alone in a dirty house. Knitting? Comfort knitting, of the latest Clapotis (this is the ONLY pattern I've ever knit more than once - I'm on number four) in its called-for yarn of Lorna's Laces Lion and Lamb. Now I understand the allure of this yarn, as it is buttery soft and ever-so-slightly fuzzy and shiny and is keeping me going through what is a somewhat boring pattern, except that I'm in love all over again with miles and miles of stockinette stitch.

crawling out of the suck

I don't know when I started calling mid-August "autumn", maybe since I started working in Hawaii's year-round school system? At any rate, Det and I used to joke about my August Malaise, triggered by school starting, but really, the month of July, the last days of it, anyway, sucked so monumentally, that I have totally re-thunk my August tendancy toward depression and overwhelm. I can't go into a re-live of my fast forward summer; suffice to say, we are all safe and sound and well on the other side, now, and I welcome the relief of the mundane, the comfort of friends and routine, and this particularly outstanding pizza which I am eating as I write this. P went downhill to fetch the pizza from Domino's, but the clerk dropped it off the counter and had to make a fresh one. Really...it's the little things.

New school year - new sock, and yes, incidentally, I did get re-hired at my smug little school, with its high test scores and contentious staff. I am no longer a classroom teacher, but am now working as a resource teacher; doing reading and math support. The rules concerning how children having academic problems are referred for Special Ed testing have changed, and now before a child can be tested, they must be taught in an 'intervention program' and data collected on their progress. I am that intervention teacher at my site. I have to say, I'm enjoying this job a lot more than I enjoyed last year's exercise in tolerance and compromise. I like doing my own thing, and while I'd never say this to someone in a position to hire me, in an interview, I don't think I'm much of a team player. The small group work, the data collection, the autonomy of working with the whole school, rather than sharing one classroom, pleases me. I am replacing a very talented teacher, who, last year, ran afoul of the law in an unfortunate way that ended her teaching career. Good person, bad decisions.

The sock is merino/nylon, from Spirit Trail Fiberworks; a small Virginia-based dyer, and purchased at last year's Fall Fiber Festival, in Orange, VA. I figured, since I'll be attending that again, I'd better be knitting and spinning up my stash in preparation. It's a simple garter rib, and mindless enough.


In spite of the appearance of canine harmony, my Life With Dogs has been difficult this summer. I'm becoming a devout student of NILIF approach to taking my pushy Ms. Bossy down a notch, and firming up my leadership for Mr. Juvenile Delinquent/Anxious Headcase, with improving results. Both dogs are being exercised and worked separately, now, and getting a lot more action, and I'm hoping it puts them on the right track.


I hope to write more. I'm feeling more chatty, more like myself than in some weeks.

delay of gratification

I got an email from Amazon Saturday telling me I wouldn't have my copy of "Deathly Hallows" til July 30-31. I was absolutely gobsmacked, at first. I thought it would be a few days after release, but ten days?! I tried to cancel the order, but it's not elgible for return. I thought about just buying a copy at Foodland, where I went to buy tea yesterday morning, but then decided against it. See, here's what's going on...I'm only frantic like this, because I don't want to encounter spoilers on the web, or run into people who want to talk about it. Even at Foodland, the checkers were talking about the book, though they kindly respected my request for no spoilers while I was in line.

Other than the worry that it'll all be blown for me (and it won't really - I just want to savor the deliciousness - knowing what happens will put me in a race to get to "certain events" in my reading)I will enjoy my leisurely re-read of "Half-Blood Prince" and spend less time on the computer. That can only be a good thing,no? Funny, one of my favorite lj blogs is very Harrycentric, and I so have to avoid reading her for a couple of weeks. Then, though, the after-the-fact catchup will be an added pleasure.

So what am I doing with myself while I wait for Amazon to get my book to me? Much of it focuses on getting myself ready to be no longer on vacation, alas. The baking and freezing of bran muffins and mini quiche thingys for on-the-fly breakfasts. Laundry and the ironing and mending of school clothes, as I've lived my past few weeks in the rattiest of paint-stained shorts and holey tee shirts. Today I'm going in to the classroom (or my rather large cubicle) to wash the place down with Murphy's oil soap, as it's covered with a layer of dust and grime. Being in Kailua, being sweaty and dirty, will give me an excuse for a quick swim at the beach, though recent shark attack and drowning on the Windward beaches is a bit of a damper...

I might try and do a bit of sewing later this week, as my knitting mojo has up and left me with a big stash, a lot of patterns and no itch whatsoever to knit. Might as well do other things.

the door blew open

It's been swinging between opressively still and stinkin' humid, and briskly breezy around here, the past few days. I was walking Cricket yesterday morning, and it was raining, and I was sweating anyway. Ugh. I do like the brisk breezes better.

Last week, though, a big gust blew our front door open and I went out to take a look at what the hillside was offering.


Bouganvilla is my new favorite flower. I love the papery, delicate petals, and the real flower, which is the little cream center. We only have these lipstick red ones, but I've seen a combination planting of this color and magenta, that's heartbreakingly gorgeous.


Some potted jade, hardy stuff, that jade, resisting my neglect, and tinged with a little blush. Little Rainbo, the deceased cockatiel used to love nothing more than to get out of his cage and chew our indoor jade plants into oblivion. I guess that succulent plant was a tasty treat to him.



Our mystery citrus, which has refused to set fruit up to this point, in spite of blossoms. I was hoping for a lime, for the cocktails and cooking, but it's thrown its full effort into making one orange.

Finally, the plumeria tree, which is my great Hawaiian botanical love. Fragrant, shady and proof enough that sometimes, it's downright paradisical around here.

Other breaking news...Eleanor is off the needles but unfringed and unblocked for now. Pictures coming soon. I got a job at my same old school (hmmmm...) as a reading and math resource teacher. No problem, I'm okay with it. My own space, and working with much more collaborative teachers than last year. Still...my summer vacation ends in a week. One week!!

After all the swirling drama of my headachiness, I was diagnosed with arthritis of the cervical spine - not very advanced, my course of the muscle relaxants went well and I've been pretty much pain free. Of course I'm also kind of stress free these days, so go figure. I've been getting massage, and am feeling pretty fine - hoping to maintain it for awhile.

Summer has flown by, a flurry of snorkeling, clacking needles, and lots of dog training; today I had a private obedience lesson with Cricket, in which we worked on aggression issues, focus and general compliance. He was pronounced "trying very hard, he's so responsive, he's in the game". Ahh, Cricket, with his funky charm, Dogtor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde himself. The private lesson was well worth the cost, and we have some things to work on for a few weeks.

I am submerging with the ongoing re-reads of the Harry Potter books, books I meant to be finished with last week. I'm starting "Half-Blood Prince" tonight. Fortunately (foolishly) I ordered book 7 from Amazon, and I seriously doubt I'll see it here before mid week, so I'll be off the internets til all this is resolved. Til then, it's all Harry, all the time.

state of the ark

I'm home alone this week, enjoying the pleasures of deconstructing my kitchen, interspersed with knitting and dogness. It's all Eleanor, all the time around here. Since I decided to finish all my UFO's this summer, I am only concentrating on knitting one thing at a time. Believe me, it's killing me, with my slightly ADD tendancy and great love of multitasking. Still, I continue to love Lady E. She grows slowly, but the drama is there. It's funny, you never know what color is going to be adjacent to another, and even though it's a tiny little universe you're working in; ie, 8 stitches, knitting and purling and picking up and knitting 2 together, the effect is huge. Eleanor is an epic knit. I do love it when a shawl can cover my legs while I'm working on it. I had hoped to be done with her by tomorrow, but I don't see how it's going to happen.

One of my summer projects is to get my body straightened out. This year, I've had such a bad run of infections and migraines and general malaise. I think much of it sprang from my unhappiness at work, which made me weak on some level, susceptible to infection. I'm proud to report that I've been sore throat and cough and sinus pain-free for about a month now, following the antibiotics and absolutely religious use of the neti pot.

I continued to have the headaches into the summer, so I'm working with my doctor on that issue this week. I've had x-rays and tomorrow I'll have a CT scan. The doc's hypothesis (and I'm willing to see it through) is that some of these are tension headaches, not migraines, and so we're treating the tensed muscles. The x-rays and CT scan were to rule out arthritic condition and stroke or other brain anomalies. So now, I'm sleeping with muscle relaxants, and a hot towel compress, and I've stolen P's orthopedically correct pillow, with pretty good results. A day of pain-free, today, which is saying something, as I've been entertaining the low grade headache for a long time now.

The good doctor did not renew my scrip for Fioricet, however, and lectured me about treating the cause, not the symptom, and reminded me that it was a controlled substance. A little too controlled, if you ask me. Arrrrgh. It was like I'd asked for Oxycontin or another shot of Dilaudid or something. Fioricet is the sure headache stopper in my life, but my last few personal physicians have been reluctant to prescribe it. I went online to research it a bit, and came across a message board on which folk talked about addiction, and taking up to 18 Fioricet a day and what a bitch it was to kick it. Harrruuumph! This is ruining it for my innocent usage of one or two at a time to tame a headache.

At any rate, I'm down with treating the cause, and if it be a muscular thing, well, hopefully I can clear it up.

Now I know it's just wrong to write about alcohol and drugs in the same post, but we have a drink around here at Chez Nuuanu Estate known as "Island Sangria". This from the same folk who brought you the Pomegranate Mudpot and is a good way to use up red wine that has seen its time. I do not believe this Hawaiian Sun nectar is available on the mainland, but I'm pretty sure you could use Kerns nectar as a good substitute, or just oj. Mix, half and half, or in whatever proportions are available. The lazy person's sangria.


Next week, our good friend Det arrives for a week. He is perhaps, the best friend P and I have, one that we share equally. Oh yeah, P has his friends and I have mine, and we have the 'couples friends' and the mutual friends. The Det bridges the gap between P's friends, my friends and "our friends". I'm looking forward to the diversion. He has family here, and knows Hawaii well, so we'll be continuing our ongoing (from last visit) research about truly good plate lunches, snorkeling spots and no doubt obsessing over the Tour de France a little too much.

berries and a spicy sweater

Summer is here, and the time off work that I never thought would get here has finally kicked in. I have been on a bit of a blog hiatus, as I've been working hard to finish projects, catch up on sleep and just enjoy the newfound freedom. In my quest to eat at home more, (I've decided to postpone the denial of a cleansing diet at the moment, in favor of the indulgences coming out of my own kitchen) I've been cooking hard. These lovely berries became a cobbler that was breakfast and dessert one day last week.

In addition to the cooking (risotto! cupcakes from scratch! red beans and rice!) I have also buckled down HARD on knitting up the UFO's, and have completed the Rosedale cardigan at long last! Behold the splendor, lounging on the 31 steps...


...and the not-so-splendid pic, taken in my messy bedroom mirror. Clearly the unblocked Rosedale is not the most flattering accent to my scruffy flowered sundress, but you get the idea.


I have never been so tired of a sweater in my life as I was of knitting this thing. The last part; the collar in corrugated ribbing, was the crowning touch, requiring all kinds of concentration and 2 balls of yarn and some ripping and re-knitting. Nevertheless, I think it's a cute enough knit, and actually cozied up in it the other night at Mocha Java. It is spectacularly unsuited to our climate here, and I can only imagine it'll get its major use on trips to the mainland, or on the Big Island, up at Volcano, where the night temps regularly hit 40's.

On to bigger and better things!

some randomness

I was tagged by Acornbud for this seven random things meme. I wrote it up, and Blogger ate it a few days ago. I'm giving it a new and improved shot...no one's tagged, but if you feel inspired and you happen to have some time, please feel free to jump right in and do it yourself.

1. I grew up in a hunting family, and probably ate more wild game than domesticated meat, as a child. Venison, rabbit and squirrel were regulars on our dinner table throughout my childhood and teenaged years. My dad no longer hunts, and while I support his reasons, (he was tired of taking lives) I do admit to missing the wild meat a little bit. Squirrel is hard to come by and quite tasty with gravy and biscuits.

2. I am a self-taught knitter. I knit left-handed, moving the work from the right needle to the left. Please do not ask me about picking, throwing or whether I knit continental or english style. I do not understand such things.

3. I am madly, passionately addicted to Jamba Juice smoothies. I drink the Coldbuster with protein boost (though a lot of good it does me)Saturday after I attend my dog training class. At home, I put peanut butter in my homemade smoothies, which nearly always draws protest and "what the hell is this?" from anyone who happens to be sharing it with me.

4. I have known my husband for 23 years, though we've only been married for 7.

5. I had a terrible math anxiety in school, and did badly in math classes throughout my education. Strangely, I really enjoy teaching math, and my graduate research is on how children solve math problems without using the traditional algorithm.

6. I have never owned a new car in my life. Currently I'm driving an 8 year old Honda CRV. It is a total workhorse, and has never had any problems, so it'll be around awhile, I imagine.

7. My media creature boyfriend is Daniel Day-Lewis.

illin' and chillin'

I had a great meme-y post all written, a week ago, and Blogger lied to me and didn't save it automatically, so it was lost, as was my meme mojo. Nevertheless, I may try again.

My week has been consumed by, in this order: strep throat and missing 3 days of work, a day of face painting, including some work on adults and some of the best artistry I've ever done on the human face (it helps to have extremely good-looking co-workers), and a vicious migraine that landed me in urgent care this morning for 3 hours, culminating in an iv bag full of fluids and a shot of Dilaudid.

Wow. That Dilaudid is something else. I felt like Matt Dillon in Drugstore Cowboy.

Despite the scary illin' tone of the week, it hasn't really been too bad. The strep is being taken care of with amoxycillin, and after one feverish day, then a visit to my trusty doctor, I'm in no pain any more from that. The 3 days off work were only mildly sickly, but consisted mostly of me puttering around the house entertaining my dogs and reading Dodie Smith's most wonderful novel, "I Capture the Castle". Cooking and cleaning and listening to a lot of music. Doing surprisingly little knitting.

The face painting gig was one I'd had lined up to do for my school's field day. I have not painted faces since my move to full-time employment last August. It took me about 10 faces to find my groove, but once in, I had fun. After the field day, some co-workers came around asking if I'd paint their faces. It was lovely and fun to work on adult faces (I almost always do children) in a quiet air-conditioned room, with no long line waiting for me to hurry up. Hence the nice work. Alas, I've no pictures, but trust me, it was good work!

Now I'm here, P is on a pizza run (because I can always eat spinach and garlic pizza from Boston's North End Pizza) and I'm just a bit shaky, but pain-free. The migraine was a nightmare of sobbing, puking and inability to stomach the very thing that would put it to rest. I went in to urgent care for the iv, some anti-nausea drug and the Drugstore Cowboy cocktail. I've never had an iv in my life, and was a little scared. P was assuring me that I wouldn't have an embolism when the iv ran out, which was something I hadn't considered, til he mentioned it. He's helpful like that, my husband. I am much better now, and am just taking it easy. I went on a walk with Ella this evening, mostly to move my body around. Ella is the ultimate pleasure walking dog. She is calm, a bit slow, methodically reading and responding to the pee mail along the way. Sort of the anti-Cricket, whom P walked, as I was not up to it.

I have done a bit of knitting, unispired though it may be. I present to you the titillating shot of Eleanor's backside:

It's kinda ruffly where you pick up stitches as you knit along the tiers and altogether cute in its rustic way. Eleanor grows, though slowly; clearly a sign that I'm not watching enough tv. She's my "Battlestar Galactica" knitting. I've been metering out my episodes and am now midway through Season 2.5.

Lest you think I've given up sock knitting entirely, I present a rather poor shot (my camera isn't what it was back in 1998) of my first Child's First Sock. Knitting on these #1 needles is too slow for me. I like this pattern. It's intuitive, and cute and even forgiving, as this here sock is full of mistakes. It's a very snug fitting sock, and I hope I get it right to fit me, otherwise it'll have to go to someone with itty-bitty feet.


I hear the car in the driveway, so the meme'll have to wait.

dogiversary

Perhaps you are getting tired of dog news in lieu of actual knitting in my life? Move along, then, as we have another milestone in Chez Nuuanu Estate.

It's Cricket's first dogiversary. We've had him for one year today! In contrast to Ella, he was the biggest pup in his litter, and has always been a sort of a hulking, oafish fellow, though pretty smart.


The breeder was calling him The Buddha, but we thought it seemed kinda disrespectful to name him that, as we had so many Buddhist friends and co-workers here...and besides, he isn't very serene, and tends to complain incessantly about whatever is on his mind...not so Buddhist, if you ask me. So we changed his name to Cricket, because, well, he was sporty, and black and bouncy like a cricket, but mostly because we liked the sound of it.


It's been shortened to Crick, but sometimes he gets the long forms; Cricket Cricketovich, or the more middle eastern sounding Crickmanistan.


He's a dog with 'issues' as one puts it politely. A little aggressive with other dogs, not so focused and driven as Ella, even when she was that age. Not one to sit peacefully in the corner for long, either. He snores, drinks from the toilet and digs up roots in the yard. He brings lava rocks the size of softballs into the house through the dog door. Maybe the canine equivalent of pumping iron?

vignettes and a birthday

Happy Birthday to my lovely Ella, couch dog extraordinaire, fetcher of frisbees, queen of carrion-eaters, champion finder of treats tossed in the grass, sometimes agility dog, always a beloved companion. I remember, 9 years ago, when the breeder phoned me to tell me the litter had been born, and she remarked that the runt, half the size of the other pups, was really active, scrambling over the other 8 pups, with a powerful will to live. I didn't realize that the runt was going to eventually become my own, 2 months later.
At 9, she is still lively, a serious watch dog, and the boss. Time has flown so quickly, my love.


It wouldn't have been knit night without some silly shennanigans at Ward Center last week. Here is a bit of fun with Blogless Michelle's gift of fantastic purple possum yarn from New Zealand, in Goma Tei Ramen restaurant. I am being silly while the Blogless One eggs me on. I think we were good for business, what with the yarn modeling, and enthusiasm for their food. Not to mention their excellent Kirin draft beer which is cheap and delicious. Video courtesy of that clever Acornbud


Did I mention I'd completely let go of work? I have just 2 little vignettes for you, both taking place at my job...

Vignette #1: I cleaned up and recycled 33 empty water bottles drunk up by my co-teacher, who never cleans surrounding surfaces; they were lined up on our metal counter by the sink. When I asked her about them (thus dropping a HUGE hint that they were cluttering up the area) she said "Oh yeah, you'll have to get a trash bag from the custodians and haul them down to the recycling dumpster." Uh...never mind that I've been drinking from the same water bottle all year, and that this mess was NOT mine. I was so surprised by her response that I just did what she asked. Later she remarked to me "I"m so glad that you're a person who cleans, I feel badly that I'm not..." I shook my head in marvelling wonder, and continue to count the days til we do not have to share a classroom, negotiate curriculum, and do grades together.

Vignette #2: I'm eating fruit salad at my desk during recess. I put the bowl down on the desk, and go across the room to assist a student who's staying in to finish work. I'm gone for 5 minutes. When I return, there are 3 little cockroaches in my fruit salad!" Needless to say, this got tossed. Yick.

Ah, well, it's getting to be that summer time feeling, even here in the land of the endless summer.

slam!

Spring has slammed me with allergies, spring fever and a general unwillingness to work hard on anything except for, wonder of wonders, housecleaning. I dunno, there's been something satisfying about scrubbing and vacuuming and picking up and putting away, recently. It can't last. I'm not really that domestic. Nevertheless, it is nice to wake up to a clean house, these days. I've been getting up early, 5:00 am, and journaling, knitting, reading tarot and just puttering around the house. I don't get to work any earlier, but things seem to work better for me when I get out of bed at the crack of dawn. It does require some machination to get INTO the bed at a decent hour, though.

Lady Eleanor is growing, tier by tier. I am enjoying this knit, even though the repetitive zone of 8 stitches back and forth is wrecking my wrists and hands in a way that they haven't been wrecked since I first learned to knit. I'm almost willing to believe the aches are a product of my ongoing general malaise, rather than any repetitive stress injury triggered by the knitting. The malaise of sore throats and drag-ass and itenerant aches and pains is undiagnosed by my doctor, who prescribed exercise and decongestants. I'm thinking massage and a detox diet as soon as school's out. Til then, it's tons of sleep, which IS helping, and exercise, which at least feels great when I'm doing it.

Anyway, here's Eleanor:

Isn't she lovely?

I spent some $ at the annual Webs sale on some DK yarns: Jo Sharp Silkroad DK in the color "Cedar". I love this color, which is pretty true here in the shot. This is slated for Marilyn's Not-So-Shrunken Cardigan eventually.



Here's some Elsebeth Lavold Silky Tweed, in a remarkable rust color that closely matches my cherry wood dining room table! This yarn, with its small percentage of wool, and mostly cotton and silk, will be the Lotus Blossom Tank when it grows up.


The employment situation is still nebulous. That said, work is pretty enjoyable right now, given that I'm making lemons out of lemonade. I think it's proof positive that I've made the break from work obsession, that I'm not eating myself alive over not having a job for next year, yet. Perhaps another taste of the rainbow is in order.

soy silk struggle

Isn't this pretty? It's something whose name eludes me, but is doing well, in spite of my current policy of benign neglect.

Little peek in here. I have some soy silk, Southwest Trading Company's Karaoke, that I got in a yarn swap months ago, at Aloha Knitters. I was sitting on it, unsure of what to do with it. I thought it was so pretty, and soft, and the yummiest warmest French Vanilla color. I contemplated mixing it up with some Rowan Calmer, in Annie Modesitt's corset top, but after a swatch, realize they aren't quite the same gauge and look funky together, and not funky in a good way, either, but mismatched, like something I'd wear to walk the dogs on a Sunday morning. I thought about a washcloth, because, really, I just wanted to rub that soy silk all over myself. But the pattern I was trying to knit wasn't working for me, and I was mighty damn tired of ripping and re-knitting and getting the wrong number of stitches after that silly bobble row (oh accursed Mason-Dixon seductive washrags...)and suddenly I realized that I am done, finished, completely over that soy silk. It's going to Knittybird on Thursday, because it seems it's haunting her from a distance, too! She asked about it the other night at knit night, and I gave her an iffy answer, and then went home and tried to make something out of it, just to see if it would work for me. Since it's obviously not working for me, it's time for it to fly the coop. Adieu, soy silk! Blessings to you in the creative hands of Ms. Bird!

The weather has been all over the map here. Windy as all get-out, and rainy at nights, hard, warm rains, with huge drops that fall horizontally and end just at dawn, leaving a nice cool sunrise. The wind has provoked my usual case of spring-driven brainfog, and I'm fighting it with Claritin and giving myself extra time and caffeine to accomplish just about anything.

Little knitting (see the aforementioned soy silk struggle) has been done that hasn't been ripped. I'm taking a knitting break this week, as I concentrate on other things, namely, my backlog of ungraded student work, dog grooming and cooking. I made dolmas, oatmeal cookies and lentil soup the past couple of days, in a domestic frenzy. Somehow that's a balanced diet, I guess. The cookies had chocolate chips in them, too, making them more complete.

turn of the moon

Such a sad week. The shootings at Virginia Tech were so shocking and horrific. I consider myself a Virginian, despite not having been born there, and despite the fact that I live thousands of miles away, now. My father's family is from there, long rooted in the Shennandoah Valley, and it's the seasonal change, the trees, flowers and animals of the Blueridge that inspire me most in this world. I did not go to VA Tech, but have a very dear friend whose husband is a professor there, and have spent my share of days in Blacksburg, and surrounding Montgomery County.

It has taken awhile to digest the news of the shootings, and the shooter's sad history, and all these events coming so close to the anniversary of the Columbine event, which of course, changed school security and our (misguided?) perception of school as a safe place. The news, later this week, that a parent of a kindergartener walked into her child's classroom, brandished a toy gun and started saying "bang-bang" to the students, in a copycat event, was the apalling icing on the cake. What is it about our culture that breeds such a disconnectedness and lack of empathy?

That's a rhetorical question, and does not require an answer, by the way. I've just been pondering all week.

Mercifully, the moon has changed, which always gives me the strength to crawl out of my funk and count my blessings, to try new things and to put on the witch hat again. Funny thing, after Leah departed, at the end of March, I was seized with a profound loneliness for the company of other pagans. It was so nice to casually talk about ritual, energy, tarot, and our spirituality, without having to consider putting anything into context, or edit myself in any way. I live and work in a very tolerant community, right now, but for the first time in 17 years, am not a member of a working pagan circle that meets in realtime. The one group I visited here on Oahu meets too far away, and were philosophically different enough from my own orientation to have me driving off to meet with them on a regular basis. I've been enjoying the solitary practice since I moved here, for the most part, but Leah's visit made me realize anew, how much I missed those folk and all the facetime we used to enjoy.

So it's been a troubled few weeks, in large ways and small.
But time moseys on, and the kolea - golden plovers, are getting ready to migrate for their summer in Alaska. These birds are pretty nondescript in the fall and winter months, but in the spring, they put on their jaunty black bibs and turn a nice golden color for breeding plumage, and then disappear for 3-4 months. A nice life, splitting your time between Alaska and Hawai'i, if you can get it. I took this picture at school, but we have a resident kolea in our back yard, too, who eats well, picking bugs and slugs out of dog poop. I think he also makes the occasional snack out of the lizard, as well. He is Ella and Cricket's would-be prey, they always launch off the deck steps in hot pursuit of him when they go outside.


I had occasion to join the ladies of the NRN at Pauoa Chop Suey, the other night. This was a delightful, unknown-to-me Chinese restaurant that isn't too far from home. I continue to be thrilled by the hidden, hole-in-the-wall local restaurants in Honolulu. We totally tasted the rainbow, in both company and food.

Of course no taste of the rainbow can compare with this one:


2 chocolate and 2 vanilla cream puffs from the Beard Papa, that crazy Japanese purveyor of ecstasy. I love the yellow carrying case they come in.



Ella is hoping that one will fall off the counter and into her waiting mouth.



Funny thing...Ella is the most energetic beggar that ever lived. She firmly believes that effort, in the form of soulful looks, sotto voce moans, and repeated sitting, downing, and offering up all of her scanty repetoire of tricks, will get her a handout. She would never dream of taking anything off the counter or stealing food - that's much more Cricket's game. He's a do it yourself kind of guy, and as such, rarely puts much energy into a beg. I don't know which dog is more annoying in the presence of food, really.

Knitting. No new pix to show. Eleanor slugs along, beautiful, soft and easy to knit. The Child's First Sock creeps along on its tiny #1 needles, too. Both are satisfying, but I'm kind of itching for a short project that will crank out fast. I have a couple of things in mind, and may dedicate some Battlestar Galactica time to the quick fix...

...will they ever stop barking?

My neighbor has 2 mean little chihuahuas, one of whom actually CHASED MY CAR down the driveway last week. And they are barking, incessantly; have been for the past half hour. They are barking so incessantly that I put my own dogs in their crates to stop their ongoing commentary on the up-the-hill bowwowwow...perhaps not entirely fair, except that I paid them off with kong toys stuffed with salmon jerky and biscuits to enjoy in their crates, so I don't feel too guilty. Still, I wonder why they're barking so urgently and constantly. They usually don't bark unless someone's walking past their enclosure.

In lieu of any actual updated content, I offer images from a Friday evening.
Cricket, looking regal on our back steps, surveying the backyard.


My dinner of roast veggies and red wine.


The lastest object of my fascination; the halting beginnings of the Lady Eleanor Entrelac Stole, from"Scarf Style". The yarn is Noro Silk Garden, in color #226, a mix of greys, blues, and browns. I love this yarn, color and texture. I read complaints out there in Blogland about the amount of vegetable matter, sticks and straw in Silk Garden, but I don't find it excessive or offensive. Knitting so recently with Noro's Kureyon, though, and now Silk Garden, I find myself wishing for a single-color project, and contemplate what's next in the pipeline for me. Not to be shared just yet, mostly because I'm trying to wrap up some WIPs before committing to something else new. Eleanor was just something I couldn't put off anymore. It is an easy, amusing project.

In other news, as of this June, both my co-teacher and I are out of our jobs. The district has transferred 2 teachers from another school that's downsizing into our positions, because we didn't have tenure. So we are back on the "to-be-hired" list, and while chances are good that we'll be employed, come August, it's not a sure thing. Fuckety-fuck. I am a bit over crying and angsting about my employment situation here in Hawaii. In my 13 years of teaching prior to my move here, I had excellent evaluations, and had no problem finding and keeping work. This system, with its combination of rigid, bureaucratic structure, and old-boy cronyism is not one I support, nor one that I want to give one whit of emotional energy to. I am determined to breathe deeply, ride the winds of chance and see where they drop me. If the work situation is impossible, come the new school year, I will sub, paint faces and walk dogs again for a living. Sigh. I like my paycheck. I like my benefits. I like my students and their families. But this system is corrupt and ineffective, and I am giving it no more than is absolutely necessary of my emotional investment.

Detaching is tiresome, though, and it seems like I am having my share of motivational problems.I think a personal day is in order.

The rain has begun. The chihuahuas have stopped barking. Silence is golden.

run ragged but happy

I've been silent, but frenzied, the past days, as my spring break wound down. My friend Leah came to visit, and while it was great to see her, she ran me a bit ragged. Leah's an ardent tourist, who travels a lot, and doesn't take easily to sitting around doing little while I knit and do housework. So we ran around Oahu, tasting the rainbow in great big bites, with helicopter rides and hikes and drives to the far reaches of the rock, and funny umbrella drinks and lots of shopping, and the sighting of sea turtles up close and personal. Nice, but I was so pleased with my weeks of silence and solitude prior to her visit that it was a bit of a shock to me to have all that followed with nonstop action. It's feast or famine around here at the Knitted Brow, and who's to say what's what? We also devoted inordinate amounts of time watching season 1 of Battlestar Galactica, thanks to my recent Netflix join. I got Leah hooked, and her parting shot to me at the airport was "I'm updating my queue..." to feed her own need for the cylon vs human struggle. Yum.

Such geeks we are. After Leah departed, I devoted some time to making a container herb garden. I planted basils, sage and cherry tomatoes in pots to live along our rock walls. Our actual soil is very thin and rocky here, and we have so many plant-eating creepy crawlies around that I am trying a container approach to growing things I actually want to eat. I'm trying not to get carried away with visions of my summery pesto just yet, but so far, everything's doing fine. I repotted the euphorbia, too, as it had nearly died away in its sad little rootbound pot. I'm feeling very much the gardener these days, though with spring break's end, my time is not my own again.

Spring break did result in the completed blue socks; not entirely matching, due to Trekking's rambling rippling colorways. I was calling them fraternal twins, but now decided that sock #2, the left one, is the Brother from Another Mother to sock #1. Thanks to Blogless Michelle (Ms Frogstreet? hint?) for that phrase, which I've taken every opportunity to use since I heard it a week ago.

Thanks to Cricket, for being the tolerant model for the perfect sock contrast. The colors are pretty true, and I'm happy with my work. I'll be making more socks from Sensational Knitted Socks, after a digression into Knitting Vintage Socks for a KAL of the Child's First Sock.


In other news, on Saturday, I went out thrifting at the Salvation Army. I don't particularly care for the thrift stores in Hawaii, but I tend to only shop at Salvation Army and Goodwill, so there may be better, smaller ones out there that I don't know about? Still, I had a good day, and $7.69 got me quite a haul of groovy booty. (I shudder to think of how the use of the phrase 'groovy booty' is going to repercuss on google and site hits)


The Haul:


A swanky green sarong for the beach and my hippie moods:



An incredible buy of some of my favorite soaps, including the much-loved olive oil and chamomile flavor that is so hard to find:


Not shown very well was a stunning white t-shirt, suitable for work and showing off my tan, should I ever acquire one.

Now, I'm back at work again, feeling tired and put-upon already. I need a spring tonic, I think.