Another 'also ran'

Well the Ravelympics didn't work out for me. Watching the opening ceremonies, during the "parade of nations" portion, one of the announcers said something like, "of course the majority of these athletes come here with NO HOPE of a medal..."

What a jerk. I'm sitting there, with my endless knitting project, and my broken damn foot, and these people were AT THE OLYMPICS! It shouldn't matter that they may not be number one, two or three... I find it amazing that they can be number 25! Or 12! Or 18! Or moreso, 4!!! When are we going to learn to appreciate these "also rans?"

Well, I didn't even finish the back of the sweater. But I haven't given up, I hope to finish it for Christmas.

Right now, I have about four co-workers expecting babies. Maybe five. I can't remember. But I've found a really nice baby blanket pattern on line, which I have adapted and adjusted. It initially called for 2 strands of worsted yarn, size 10 needles, and a rather substantial size. I hate working with 2 strands of yarn (it's a waste, honestly!) and I really only wanted something that was small enough to be thrown over a baby or tot in a stroller or car seat. It's cold up here, and I remember tucking H into his carseat and wishing I had a smaller blanket than the ones I had.

So... I've adjusted it to 400 yards of worsted, size 9 needles, and a finished size of 22x28 inches. Once I finish the one I'm working on, I'll post a picture. I also dyed the yarn (Knit Picks Superwash Merino-BARE) with Kool-Aid to make each one more individual. It's really cute.

Gotta go now.

Anne

Summer of the Gimp

Regarding my last post, which was months and months ago... Ice Out at our house was officially May 12, 2008. Scary.

Well, here it is, August already, and what have I been doing this summer? Well, I started my summer like this:



Then moved on to phase two, which looked like this:



And now I'm in the fun ankle-brace, cane and physical therapy portion of the program. It looks like this and involves STEEL REINFORCEMENT. No, really.



Friday, June 13 (honestly!) I took the bottom step of the stairs (here at the house) just... wrong... and managed to sprain my ankle. Sprained it so well, in fact, that the tendon ripped a piece of bone off what they believe to be the "cuboid" which sounds more like a Lego than a bone to me. But the point is I broke a tiny bone in my foot and have spent the last 8 weeks recuperating. It's nothing I'd recommend, and fortunately it's been a very wet, very cool summer so I haven't missed out on too much. Bill had to chauffer me for five weeks or so (it's my driving foot, of course) and that was trying. But I've got my wheels back, and now the physical therapists are having their wicked way with me and leading me into new experiences of pain and torture (different than Bill's driving).

I'll do another update later this week, on my RAVELYMPICS 2008 event project. Currently, it looks like this:



I have until the closing ceremonies in Beijing to complete it. It's a sweater for Bill, so the odds are not good.

Catch ya later:

Anne

Effing Snow...

We live in the White Mountains. Here's a couple pictures. We have more snow on the way tomorrow. Soon we will be sub-arctic.





Last night as I was wandering around the supermarket, very excited about their phenomenal yogurt sale, I ran into a guy I know. This happens often, we all joke that we keep track of everyone we know by running into them in the supermarket (I actually ran into about three people last night, which isn't many, when you get down to it). Anyway, I ran into a guy I know, and I did my usual "Hi! How are ya?" like I do all day long--at work, or around town. He responded, rather tensely, I thought "I'm doing very well" and scooted past. I responded with a passing "Glad to hear it, hey, good to see ya!" and it occurred to me that his tone had been, well, rather unlike his usual friendly self. I thought that was odd, especially since I thought he looked especially well. Especially well for someone who's been fighting a rare and persistent form of cancer for some time.

Then it occurred to me: well-meaning though I meant it, "How are ya?" is probably something he hears all day long, from people who expect either a "very well" or "poor today," both of which have to be followed with explanation about good days and bad days, and even if he's having a totally crappy day, people want to hear "very well" even when he's not, and then, do you go into it with everyone in the supermarket, or the convenience store, or that you run into at work?? What a pain. Are they asking because they really WANT to know, are genuinely concerned, or are they just being friendly? How do you answer that when you know you have more bad days than good days?

What an idiotic greeting... "Hi! How are ya!" when I don't really expect to listen... if everyone did tell me the truth, I'd be stopped for hours a day. I'd be the region's "well, let me tell you how I'm REALLY doing..." person. I wouldn't ask "how are ya?" if I didn't CARE... or don't I? Do I go into MY litany of personal problems, financial stress, hip bursitis, allergies, etc. when someone asks me, casually "how are ya?" No, I don't. Then why do they ask? If someone says "I'm good! How are you?" the automatic reply is "great! Nice to see ya!" and then you move on by. But that's all crap.

A few years back, I went to a very busy, very crowded sheep and wool festival with a friend. It was one of those places that had a lot of displays, and booths, and you're always winding around people and bumping into them... I was saying "sorry, oops, sorry!" all day long, as I usually did. My friend, however, never said "sorry!" she said a very polite and sincere "excuse me..." I watched her do this all day. Wow, I thought, was I really SORRY--was I really apologizing to people in this situation? "Excuse me" seemed so much more proper... "sorry" should be saved for when you do someone a genuine WRONG. Since then, I say "excuse me..." if I need to reach past them at the supermarket to get the tomato sauce, and, oddly, most people reply "oh, sorry!" and I want to say "don't be sorry, just say, 'oh, of course!" and shift out of my way a little. No apologies needed. Unless you run over my foot with your cart, or drop a soup can on my head... feel free then!"

So what would be a better casual greeting than "how are ya?" I've been thinking about this long and hard since last night. "Hi, nice to see ya!" "Hi, great yogurt sale, isn't it?" "Hi, hope your doing great, but if you're not, I hope things improve...can't chat, gotta go..."

I think I'll try to go with "nice to see ya!" Thoughts, anyone?

Anne

Primary Season

Yes, we live in New Hampshire. Yes, we are both independents. No, we are not answering the phone right now, so please leave a message and if you're not a pollster or political "bring out the vote" caller, we'll get back to you.

Hooray for the fun, the craziness and the mayhem of the political season! Because we're non-affiliated in this household, we get double the fun, because both Democrats and Republicans are courting us. We have canvassers at the door most afternoons, one evening recently, we had 4 phone calls between 6:30 and 7:30 p.m. (that's a lot for us) and the first three of them were pollsters. The fourth was my mother-in-law, who lives in Maine, and I felt a bit bad that by then we were screening calls.

The other morning, I went out and found that the Edwards people had lined both sides of the Saco River bridge with beautifully spaced signs, all about 3 feet apart, down both sides of the bridge, it looked really pretty. Down the road at the intersection, I saw a group of Obama people putting up a humongous sign. This, mind you, was all at 7:30 a.m., and the bank said it was -7 degrees out, and I think it may have been colder inside my car. The fact that the Edwards signs were already there, all up and down the highway, means that they had been out in the frickin' freezing cold of night to put them up. You've got to admire that kind of political passion.

The primary is Tuesday (thank heaven) and here's what this Saturday's mail looked like:



There may have been a bill as well, but it's hard to tell. This represents 2 Obama, 2 Clinton, 2 Edwards, some PAC or other, a Richardson and a Ron Paul. Can't wait to see what Monday brings. I think it's cute, though that Obama actually has a LOGO... check this out:



I wonder if this is the wave of the future, instead of just having a company design a classy, eye-catching sign and color-scheme, now they'll all have logos? We'll see. You heard it here first, folks.

Well, I'm gonna go take a nap. Need the strength to hold up to this week's mail.

Ta,

Anne

Lordy, Lordy, I Ain't Even Forty...

It all started in September, when our family doctor closed his practice. Well, I suppose if you're a "big picture" person, it all started sometime in 1968... but whatever.

Anyway, in September, our family doctor closed his practice. My "new" doctor told me I needed to have a baseline mammogram. Okay. No prob. Bill's new doctor introduced himself with a digital rectal exam of his prostate. Okay. Starting to feel impending age creeping in now.

Then I went to get my eyes checked yesterday, and much to my combined dismay and relief... I need bifocals when knitting. I've had some eyestrain for a while, and have used those little half-glasses you buy for ten bucks at the drug store off and on, but over my "real" glasses I feel like an ass. Now, here I am, on the cusp of 39 (really! I'll be 39 at the new year!) and needing bifocals. Not for everyday wear, but when knitting, crocheting, reading, etc.

Bugger.

(Go Red Sox!)

Anne

Brother Sweaters

Holy Heck! I finished something! I finished TWO somethings! Here are H and Harris Bear in their "brother sweaters"--a pair of button-front hoodies.

The last time I knit a sweater for Harris (a beautiful "Superman Blue" cable front sweater) the bear wouldn't wear it because "it itched" him. It was done in Wool-Ease worsted. THIS time I went for a really cool-looking blue Bernat Camoflage, all... acrylic. I got the yarn during a New Year's run to Patternworks with my Homegirls. My Knitting Sisters, MJ & Sherri. Started the sweater in the winter. Finished in the fall. Not bad for me! The bigger sweater, for those interested, is from The Yarn Girls' kids book, for ages 4-12. The pattern is called "Supersize Me" and is designed for 2 strands of Koigu, which not only is expensive (although amazing) but would have ended up covered in yogurt, mud, ketchup and shrunk down to fit a baby doll after accidentally ending up in the washer (not that it's happened before or anything... I still mourn you, purple mohair cardi...)

Harris' was an afterthought. I whipped it up last Sunday during the Patriots' game. I hate football, but it's good knitting time. The boys agreed that they'd think it was cool to have matching sweaters, and that in the Camoflage, even Harris would wear it. H has never been a sweater kid, which is kinda tragic, but maybe my fortunes are about to change, he's been really interested and accommodating with this one, even when I've dragged him away from Bionicle mayhem for fittings.

Saturday we're doing the Walk for the Animals for the Conway Area Humane Society. Harris is coming. Hopefully we won't have any trouble with his new Baldness Ray powers with all those dogs around. Harris doesn't like dogs. Maybe I should get him some shades like Cyclops in the X-Men has...

Ta, I'm very tired tonight and now I'm gibbering.

Anne

Bionicle Thermopylae

So my baby brother and his family came to visit recently, and the discussion inevitably came round to movies. Since four of us were parents of Kindergarten-aged children, most of the films we see are on DVD. I mentioned that I had really liked "300" and my sister-in-law showed great concern that the film was horrifically violent.

Actually, I found "Braveheart" to be infinitely more violent. "300" is set up like its origin--the graphic novel--and although it is about a brutal, ancient battle, I didn't find it too violent at all... don't get me wrong, there is a fair amount of heads flying, but it's so thrillingly beautiful to watch, so visually amazing that it didn't prevent me from watching the film, utterly engrossed, to the very end. Of course, it could have been the buff abs of Gerard Butler and the tiny leather skivvies, too. Totally worth it.

We continued our discussion of films, moving on to H's most recent epic Bionicle battle. One of the plusses of having a daddy who's a videographer is that your childhood games can be caught forever on the miracle of DVD. H went into detail of the most recent battle, how Hewki did this and Jaller did that and who got limbs removed with a flying laser crossbow... My brother, who is in as difficult a position as I am, only in reverse--he has a 5-year-old daughter who would most like not appreciate his collection of Star Wars action figures in the same way H doesn't appreciate my Barbie collection-- asked if we yet had enough Bionicles in the house to do a re-creation of the battle of Thermopylae.

Hmmm. I thought. Interesting idea.

Unfortunately, H doesn't follow ancient, documented battle plans. But I must admit that some of his battles do resemble Thermopylae in some respects. A large army facing down a much smaller one, underdogs who fight like the odds weren't against them... in one of these pictures, you can see that even Harris the Bear has joined in, and yes, he was armed with both a squid launcher and a sword in addition to his usual superpowers--the laser beams that shoot from his eyes, his ability to control insects, and his newest superpower, the Baldness Ray (more on that another day).

Sadly, Bionicles don't have abs like Gerard Butler.

Anne

Baby Caps By The Dozen!

Okay, so, I love babies. Big babies, little babies, brand new babies, ugly babies, cute babies. Doesn't matter. Something my boy has inherited from me. Now that I'm working in the local hospital (albeit in a purely clerical sense) I walk by the birthing center twice a day on my way in and out of work.

Unfortunately, they don't let you just walk in and make goo-goo eyes at the babies anymore, something about security, blah blah. So, in my own way, to show my love of little ones, I've been making baby caps by the dozens and just dropping them off at the birthing center. That way the new parents can take the cap home, I use up little bits of leftover yarn (baby yarn, that is) and I get the satisfaction of occasionally seeing one of my caps bobbing along the hallway in one of those bucket carriers, on the way to a doctor's visit. It just kills me, though, to know those poor babes are about to get dozens of shots. Necessary, I know, but it drove me mental when they were doing it to my own little peanut... oh, to hear him cry! But, truly, it is way better than having to watch your kid suffer with whooping cough or diptheria.

Anyway, in the interest passing on my love of babies and their cute little heads, ears, fingers, bellies, and tootsies, here's my baby cap by the dozens pattern. It's sized for newborns, and CROCHETED. Go down a hook size for preemie, up a hook size for a jumbo (I made one for a coworker's sister--then she had a baby in excess of 9 1/2 pounds, so I re-did it with a G hook and it fit fine).

ANNE'S BABY HAT BY THE DOZENS PATTERN:
Materials:
SOFT acrylic baby/sport yarn (not fingering) I like Bernat's Softee Baby or Red Heart Soft Baby, because they're fairly nice to work with and washable. Sirdar Snuggly DK is also really, really super nice if you can find it.
Size F crochet hook

Round 1: Chain 2. Work 6 half-double crochets (hdc) in the second chain from hook, join with a slip stitch.
Round 2: Chain 2 (counts as first hdc). 3 hdc in first hdc. 4 hdc in each stitch around. Join with a slip stitch.
Round 3: Chain 2 (counts as first hdc). 2 hdc in each stitch around.
Round 4: Chain 2 (counts as first hdc). Work 1 hdc in each stitch around.

Repeat Round 4 until hat measures 6" from beginning. Fasten off. Weave in beginning tail. Fold up edge about 1". Voila! A super-cute baby cap! Model on nearest newborn and make endless googy noises (or, if you're from Maine or NH, cluck your tongue and state, "Oh, gorrie, ain't that cunnin'!").

Enjoy.

Please check out some of the new links, my crazy, super-creative, talented family has been hard at work. I'm so proud of them all!

Anne

Don't Fingerprint Me, It's For Sinus Trouble, Really!

Well, the boys both have tremendous head colds. The H-Bomb is doing okay, because he doesn't really have any comprehension of what "being sick" is. He's really boogie, has a headache, and his face is all chapped. Otherwise, he says he's fine.

Bill, well, he's suffering. Headache, cough, lots of boogers, run down, achy... the works. He sounds awful. Can't sleep, etc. So, in a state of mercy, I went to Wal-Mart to get him some meds.

So, let's have a chat about Sudafed. It's the only thing that works. Quite frankly, the pseudo-Sudafed they're selling now over the counter is utterly useless. Bill's been taking it all week, and he's as stuffed up as he ever was. I have allergies. The kind that manifest in sinus headaches, post nasal drip and non-stop congestion. I take Allegra-D, but it's an expensive prescription. Works really well.

This morning, I went into Wal-Mart. Quite frankly, I think it's probably a hell of a lot easier to buy a gun there than Sudafed. I went up to the pharmacy counter (because the hard stuff is not available on store shelves anymore), and told the woman I wanted the Tylenol Severe Cold and Cough tablets (non-drowsy daytime) and a bottle of the store brand Nyquil (with actual Sudafed in it). They only had that in a tw0-bottle value pack. I said fine, thinking that one bottle upstairs and one bottle downstairs would cut down on the inevitable ransacking the house in the middle of the night with no glasses on, stepping on Ben 10 toys barefoot part of being sick.

The lady asked me if I'd ever bought Sudafed there before. "Yes, but it was before it was moved behind the pharmacy counter."

"I'm going to need to see your ID." They don't even card me in the state liquor store anymore. ID?? She then entered about three pages worth of data into the computer system, and commented that "they may not even let you buy this much stuff," indicating the two bottles of Nyquil and the Tylenol Cold and Cough. Even though one is clearly for nighttime, and the other clearly marked for daytime. After about 5 or 10 minutes of her punching info into the computer, I had to sign a document stating that I was aware I was buying products with pseudeoephedrine in it, and that I was aware of the liabilities, blah blah blah.

I looked at the woman and said, "You know, in New Zealand, you can buy Tylenol with codeine over the counter." She said her husband had been to France, and there they have way more over the counter options. After signing twice and paying at the pharmacy counter, I went straight to the paper product aisle and bought a ton of Kleenex. I hope store security saw that.

MY HUSBAND HAS A HEAD COLD!! HE'S STUFFED UP!! HE NEEDS SUDAFED!! I'M NOT MAKING METH IN MY BASEMENT, I SWEAR!! SMELL MY CLOTHES, DO A CHEMICAL TEST!! NO METH!

What a world we live in. The picture shows my barely-legal contraband, and all the stuff I'm going to bring with me next time I buy Sudafed at Wal-Mart. Passport, birth certificate, license, immunization records, I've got to remember to also get a note from my mom and three character references, just in case.

Anne

Mixed Nuts

Of news, that is. It's been so long since I last posted I hardly know where to start. For Christmas, H became obsessed (and I mean OBSESSED) with Bionicles. We now have about eight hundred of them. No, seriously, they keep multiplying. The good thing is that he now spends hours setting up battles between the Good Guys and the Bad Guys. Some of the Bad Guys are so cool-looking that they are often Good Guys because we can't bear to have the really cool-looking ones be Bad.
* * *
My Other Half and I have been having deep troubles lately, so a lot of our time has been superceded by long intense talks and therapy sessions. We're doing better, I think, but it's a long road ahead. By "doing better" I mean, "I'm not crying so much." Which is good, because I think I was becoming dehydrated and it was further addling my perspective. He's a good guy, and I love him dearly. But, financially, we're skint, and it's my doing, and it's only understandable that he's resentful. Keep us in your thoughts.
* * *
Last night, I was reading a dinosaur book to H, and he told me he was very worried about meteors. What if one hit the earth again and destroyed all life? I told him that we now have telescopes and satellites and all sorts of outer-space search things, and that we'd know long in advance if a giant meteor was headed our way. Then we'd blow it out of the sky. Not to worry.

But, then I told him that meteorites hit the earth all the time, that they're usually just space rocks, and most of the time they burn up in our outer atmosphere. We call them "shooting stars," and when you see one, you're supposed to make a wish and kiss the person nearest you. He was quiet for a minute, then said what he'd wish for was to always be with Momma and Daddy, and to have all the Bionicles in the world.

Funny, that was the same as my wish, except for the damned Bionicle part.
* * *
Driving home from the supermarket tonight, I got to thinking about Contrails, only because I saw one overhead. We are nowhere near a major airport (Portland, ME is over sixty miles away) so a Contrail is a rare thing. Not unusual, but nonetheless, rare. I was out with the H-Bomb a while back, driving to Portland, coincidentally, when seemingly out of nowhere, he said "Momma!! I see Superman! And Supergirl, too!" I thought it was more of his imagination running wild, and after further commentary of the sort, realized that he was referring to a couple of Contrails.

Having grown up in a house with a NWS Meteorologist, I learned at a very early age what a Contrail was, what caused thunderstorms, about jetstreams, etc. If my son wants to think it's Superman, I won't deny him that right now. There's time enough for discussion of jet propulsion and water vapor in the atmosphere.

And when he was 5, Dad probably thought they were Superman, too.

Ta for now. I'll try to put some pictures up of my Philospher's Wool Traditions sweater later this week, if I don't have to tear it back again.

Anne

But the Red Lights are SOOOOO PRETTY!

Well, Happy Thanksgiving. Today I am thankful for Bill, Henry, all my loved ones, and that we didn't burn down the house last night. I'm also thankful for the local fire department who came out awfully damn fast.

However, I am not very thankful for the local plumbing and heating people who have not responded at all to our calls that our hot water heater was busted and needed to be replaced. Maybe now that it sparked into flame at 10:30 at night the eve of Thanksgiving will give us some more leverage. Sorry we're not a McMansion needing full expensive installation, but I haven't had a shower in three days and I'm getting testy.

Blessings on you all. Keep warm and clean.

Ta,

Anne

News from the Incredible Hulk

Today we have a guest blogger. I'm just taking dictation, so be warned:

"Today I have been crashing and banging. I've been crashing and banging rocks and houses cause I'm angry. I've been angry because when Bruce Banner is angry, he turns into Hulk. The gamma bomb made me angry because it makes me into Hulk. I talked to an angel, the angel said 'why do you look like the Hulk?' And I said, 'Because of the gamma bomb.'

"The angel could fly and she had a candle in her hands. Also the angel had a hundred toys. Toys like... a lot of Wonder Woman toys and Batgirl toys and superhero girl toys. That's because she's a girl. Angels like toys.

"Being the Hulk makes me feel very strong. That's all. Just very strong. And very mad. One more thing: I fighted a ghost and Dracula, and a skeleton, and I fighted Iron Man. And I fighted in a haunted house. And I fighted a humongous werewolf and humongous bugs. And a humongous, very hungry gorilla, and I beat all of those and that's the end of the story. Are you making a book of this? Actually, the Hulk fighted Sauron, and Sauron showed his butt. Can my dad make a movie of that?"

So works the mind of a five-year-old who found a package of green makeup Momma forgot she had when she was dressing as a witch for Halloween.

I'm sure there will be more from our guest speaker now that he knows that I can type as fast as he can talk.

Ta,

Anne

Halloween

Costume count: Three.
Final Decision: Vampire (again)
Total Number Trick or Treaters: 120
H's current ratio of total organic internal body fluid to sugar: 20:80

Final Halloween 2006 rating: 9 out of 10 (someone gave him raisinets and that skewed it)

Ta,

Anne

(He had been wearing his vampire teeth all night, and consequently drooled the chin makeup off)

A Feast For The Eyes

As my Dad would have said. I remember him driving the endless trip from home to Farmington, Maine to drop off my sister in college, then to Orono with me, each Columbus Day weekend, and glorying at the foliage and saying "It's a feast for the eyes!" It drove me crazy. Now I have a deep respect for that. How can you not love the autumn? The colors, the smell in the air, the apples and pumpkin pie, the cool air and knowing it's time to knit warm things for those you love!

In H's mind, it means Halloween. He's still torn between being a skeleton, a zombie or Batman. He's Batman most of the time anyway, so that's not very exciting. A skeleton would be cool, but he's thinking if he was a ZOMBIE SKELETON he could wear the zombie robe AND the skeleton costume. But then Daddy showed him pictures of a superhero called Ghost Rider who is a skeleton in a leather jacket who rides a flaming motorcycle and, well, who knows. We'll probably end up scraping something together at 5:30 on the big day, as usual. But at least that works up my creative juices.

Right now H is "fixing" my sewing machine. Turning all the knobs, taking parts off. So he'd better not need a costume that involves sewing. I may never find all the pieces!

Things went great at the Fryeburg Fair. MJ and Annette both won blues for their crazy shrug and nipple sweater, respectively. In fact, MJ, as usual, won a pile of ribbons. At least two blues. She's amazing. And Annette, I'm so proud of her as well! Her sweater was the first thing she'd ever submitted to the fair, and she hit blue first time! My fair isle vest got a blue as well. I went through the expo hall going "ooh! That got a ribbon! Great job!" and Bill was like, "how do you know all these projects?" and I told him that many of them were worked on this summer in our back room. Haha.

Enough for now. Enjoy what's left of October. I'll try to be more vigilant about posting in future. Maybe I'll finish Bill's socks sometime before New Years!

Till next time,

Anne

September Awareness

I've just got to add something here. September is Prostate Cancer Awareness Month. Men don't talk about these things like women do, so everyone on earth knows October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, but not many people out there know that 1 in 6 men will develop prostate cancer in some form during their lifetime.

This, like breast cancer, is an increasingly treatable, easily detectable cancer. In fact, early detection is key. Most men over the ages or 45 to 50 ought to be tested as part of a yearly checkup--if we can get them to have a yearly checkup. Women don't like mammograms, or especially pap tests (you know what I'm talking about) but we do them nonetheless because we know how important it is. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE take the time to encourage the men in your life to get themselves screened.

My Dad, pictured above at Christmas, 2005, passed away in June. We got five more wonderful years with him because he was sensible enough to have himself screened, and was courageous in getting treatment. So, do, talk to your menfolk. See if you can get him to do it for you, for your kids, for your grandkids, siblings, his mom, and also for my kind, brave, much-missed Dad. It's really important.

ta,

Anne

Long time, no write...

Man, am I ever falling behind! Plus I have a pile of pictures to post as well. So, here they are in order:

Jenn finished her first sweater! Isn't it gorgeous? She did all kinds of short-row shaping along the back neck, and had to pick up 200 million stitches for the band, and then stitch all those pieces together, and she's now officially no longer a beginner. My dear, you have been promoted to ADVANCED beginner. Good work, I'm so proud of you!! Here's hoping it fits the little guy.

MJ finished the Vogue cover cardigan/shrug knit in the round from the center out with some sort of insane twisted stitch. Here's a picture of the front and a picture of the back. It's stunning. Mindblowing. Also, she dyed the wool herself. I really need to come up with some sort of medal or something for these ladies. They impress me every time we get together!

We did a dying session at MJ's camp. Didn't make too much of a mess, thankfully, had a blast. This next picture is the spoils of the day. All dyed with Kool-Aid. Pretty awesome, huh?

That's pretty much it for now. I promise to be more on top of things in coming days. We're all gearing up to Fryeburg Fair and I know I'm trying to pull some projects of of...ehem... thin air (?) before the deadline the end of the month.

Ta for now.

Anne

Wildman, Nipples and My Friend Dorian Gray

I've been a little remiss in my entries lately. The hot weather (which for a dyed-in-the-wool New Englander like me is crippling) combined with employment and the exhaustion of life in general have left me a little, em, neglectful.

Anyway, We took H to The Basin today, it's a gorgeous glacial pond up in the Chatham area, and today was an especially nice day to go... bright, sunny, not too muggy, not too hot, lower humidity... clear visibility. Stunning. H had a great time. He was at his happiest. He spent most of the time in the water, or "having adventures" of one sort of another. I really think we're raising an all natural Wildboy. He'd be naked in nothing but a loincloth running through the woods if we didn't keep demanding he do silly things like wear socks.

However, on the ride home we discovered one thing about Wildboy: he's still a four year old kid, and there's no Freak-Out in the world than a four-year-old's Freak-Out when he discovers bloodsuckers attached to his person while he's strapped into a booster seat in a moving vehicle. Our perfect afternoon was officially ruined. He says he's never ever going back to The Basin.

So much for Superhero levels of bravery.

In other news, Annette has finally finished the Vogue Knitting "Nipple Sweater" and it turned out amazing. Well, it only took her what, three months? But it's in a beautiful fingering weight yarn and knit up on mainly size two needles. I think she thought she'd never finish it, but as you can see, Success Is A Beautiful Thing! Bright smile, Annette! Wear it proudly, and I sure hope it wins first at the fair!

Also this week, I met up with my old friend Shanti in Portland. She lives in Jersey, and I hadn't actually SEEN her in eight years. We first met when we were 14 and have been fast friends since. One of those people that even if you haven't seen them in, say, eight years, it seems like you were never apart? We all have friends like that. It was great to see her. I didn't take a picture of her, because it wasn't necessary. Much to my disappointment, she looks EXACTLY the same as she did when I met her, oh, over 20 years ago. She hasn't even got any gray hair (I do) which is very unfair because her hair is every bit as long and lush and BLACK as it was at 14. She sucks. But I love her. H was very taken with her as well... they became instantaneous buddies, and on the way home he told me he liked her because she's "cute." "Really? What was it about her that was so cute?" "Her face." He's always liked older women, but he has, until now, shown a preference for blondes. I could probably just post her high school graduation picture, but I won't, because she may not appreciate that!

All for now,

Ta,

Anne

Living With SuperGuys

This is Underwater Explorer. He didn't stick around very long, I think because his clothes were too cumbersome. But he was cool for an afternoon or so.

The things you learn when you live with a super hero... first is that there is a super hero in each of us. H has the super strength of his pure will. There is no bending it. Bill has the super power of determination. He cleaned out our hideous garage this weekend, in 90+degree heat, and actually finished the job, rather than doing what I'd do, namely say to hell with it after half an hour, and go inside into the air conditioning to watch Dr. Phil with a large bowl of ice cream.

According to H, I have super snuggly powers. I could have guessed this one, because there always seems to be someone in this house who wants to snuggle me. In the mornings it can get pretty frustrating (especially in this heat) because when H comes into our room and climbs (read "jumps") into bed with us, I end up with him, Bill and the cat all wanting to snuggle at the same time. Thank God we don't have a dog.

So, the other day, I dropped the Dark Avenger off at school, hot day, shorts, sandals, lots of exposed limbs on him, and realized that there was still a lot of duct tape adhesive on his ankles and wrists.

As I often have to do as a preemptive measure, I said to his teachers... "oh, um, let me explain the duct tape...before you call DCYS..."

His teachers, knowing H as they do, said "super hero thing?"

"Yeah. He was a Cyberman."

"So you weren't duct taping him to the wall?"

"Not this week. We discovered not long after that aluminum foil works much better if you want cybernetic parts."

According to H, removing duct tape from your extremities hurts "much much more" than removing the Power Rangers bandaid you put over the picked mosquito bite scab.

Sometimes I really wonder how Clark Kent's mom did it. I would have been worried sick every time he took off to fly to Metropolis.

Later,

Anne

So....

Dad passed away in the early hours of June 29. He went as he lived, peacefully, with great dignity. The past week has been consumed by details, planning, and tears. But we're all hanging in there, and thankfully, my father is now out of pain. Still can't talk about it, I'm going to miss him so much...

I've torn back the steeked vest three times. I think it's on the right track now. Good old vest. It's done it's job, and kept me preoccupied. I'll probably have a mental breakdown the minute I finish it--I'm beginning to believe it's all that's holding me together right now. But... if I keep tearing it back, I could theoretically hold back the flood of tears and anguish it's keeping, so maybe it's just going to be one of those been-knitting-it-20-years type projects. It's awfully nice, though, we'll see.

I might be fine.

Anne

Heavy-Hearted Hands

My much-beloved father is gravely ill. Bill and I were over to visit yesterday, arriving not long after the hospice people left. I guess that says all there is to say at this point. Dad's been struggling with prostate cancer for almost 5 years. And the past few months have been hard--for everyone.

I guess everyone has their coping techniques... some people like long walks. Some meditate. Some shop. Some drink. I knit. Some people want not to think... but I need to channel that nervous energy, distract myself... fingering weight fair isle vest with steeks... in shades of blue and gray like a November sky, adorned with snowflakes. When I realized I was up at 5 a.m. and there was no way I was going to get back to sleep, it seemed like a good idea to really get down to it.

Wish us all well. Grant us peace and patience.

Ta.

Anne