The housemate has a sore throat; I feel like my head's a big bubble. (Also feels as though I'd been grinding my teeth in my sleep; understandable but not wanted.) Looks like it's going to be a day of not too difficult reading, tea-drinking and dumb knitting. Oh yes, and a big pot of soup. Need the soup.

Last night, used up the last bit of pork cutlets that I browned with some baby onions, garlic and fresh ginger. Decided to make a broth of tamari, mirin, chili and basil to simmer it with. Also added the peeled and julienned leftover broccoli stems still hanging around from last Saturday's dinner. Oh yeah, threw in a few preserved black beans, too, for good measure, since I have a ton of them anyway. Wasn't bad - was light, comforting. What it really could have used, though, was some Asian pickles of some sort to add some zing. Thought of adding some pickled ginger, but decided against. Would have loved some daikon or whatever vegetable the folks at my favorite Chinese restaurant in the neighborhood put in their pork and pickle soup. (Where to find, or should I just read up and make my own?)

Today am far less disposed to being so adventuresome. Maybe will toss some beef or chicken, whatever broth I have laid away in the freezer, some mixed vegetables and the first herbs that come into view into a pot, apply some heat and leave it at that. Too tired and ech to put much thought into this right now.

Pavel offered to fry some cutlets and steam some frozen veggies. Just came upstairs to ask me if he should let onions cook to transparent or to brown them a bit (suggested the latter - but over slow heat). Also asked what would go better with pork: rosemary or thyme. I suggested both and also recommended throwing them, along with some garlic, in with the onions first.

Anyway: Dinner was loverly. We had pork chops with carmelized onions, garlic, thyme and rosemary. As a side, broccoli and green beans. Everything was perfect! He kept trying to say that it wasn't Great. My response was, well, maybe Great is a lot easier than you might think?

Skippy and Fabio are no longer. Am trying to figure out if I didn't add enough anti-chlorine treatment or if there was too much. If the water temperature was too high or too low. Gave them both a seaman's burial last night. (Sob!)

Almost Forgot:

Modular Lace using Short Rows.

What this means, essentially, is that you treat the circle like a pie and you treat the spokes like individual, but attached, pie pieces:



Knit from Lion's lovely organic cotton string. I think I used almond here. The doily didn't turn out as I'd wanted - meaning, there were a couple too many rows, so it looked like a princess with a cleft palate or something. Ended up giving it away to someone who seemed pretty happy with it, though more for the time spent on knitting it than anything else, I think.

Couple things came to mind while I was knitting this one. First, that favorite verse from the Tao Te Ching that I'm always quoting. Second, Sunshine:



How much are the guitar's arpeggios and arabesques like the above's knits/purls/yarn overs/k2togs?

Lace.

I'm smart, but feel dumb most of the time. Far more adept manually than what I give myself credit for, am easily intimidated by anything that looks 'too hard.' What is too hard, though? Especially in terms of knitting.

Started knitting some basic lace patterns back in the day when we could bring knitting on airplanes. I liked that it both occupied my hands and kept me focused mentally when nervous fatigue would make reading, for example, impossible. Last year, got through two gorgeous scarves: Falling Water (first lace ever!)



Katia's Alpaca. This languished for nearly a year before I got up the energy to block it. It's currently on pins and wires in my room as I type.

and Nancy Bush's Stork's Nest.



My version: knitted with some lovely-looking, but kind of difficult stuff from Vermont. The color name is "antique brass." Love that.)



Where's my closeup?! Close up!

Both took forever because I saved them for flight/airport time, but both were incredibly satisfying and made (in my opinion) lovely gifts.

Was really pleased with the flat-knitted results (especially when, after Falling Water, I figured out how to do purls without twisting the stitches. This may seem obvious to 85% of the population, but I'm left-handed, so was a bit of a casse-tête.)

Anyway, based on all this success, decided to take thing further and try a circular (yes, like a doily) bit of lace. The joy of this is not having to purl every other row unless it's germane to the pattern. Decided on Brooklyntweed's interpretation of Hemlock Ring:



My dad was kind of nonplussed by this project as, during a difficult family time, I was cursing like a stevedore late at night when everyone was trying to sleep. Found some errors in the pattern, y'see, and was having a hard time resolving them/'reading the lace'/concentrating in general. Lace problems: solved! Family ones?: Not so much yet, anyway.



Finished knitting in Fray-ance chez le Frenchie. Kind of fitting that I end up with a cabbage flower for un petit chou, non? (snort)



Aah, the magic of blocking!
Am so pleased at how this turned out. The Frenchie, also, as one can see.

You all saw what I did for me as a Birthday gift. Was down and out enough to not leave the house for a bit, but could still knit. Decided to try the little bird spreading its wings on the needles construction, as that's kind of what I'm feeling like right now. A new friend's fearlessness and a free pattern (not to mention a huge stash of lace/sock yarn) are what's fueling the latest project:



The Journey of 400m Begins with But a Single Cast-On. It's called Mesange Bleue because "Blue Tit" is something that the 12 year old boy in me won't allow me to call it (snort).

I'd like to do a new lace project a month. Something that'll challenge me technically, hopefully, too. As I'm working on a new physical body as well (more later), would like to make some nice Summery stuff for me.

(We'll see, right?)

It's That Time of Year Again.



Many of these are in the process of being knitted/sewn together/stuffed. All will be revealed a week from Sunday; don't want to ruin the surprise.

Found my next knitting project. (Hint: it ain't this.)



Is up and keeping with my goal to knit a lace scarf/stole/shawl a month this year. I have other goals, too. Will talk about them soon enough.

Sister Moon.

Climbing up to my squirrel's nest last night, caught a glimpse of the moon peeking out through the maples.



From my little perch high atop Spring Hill. Really, you had to be there.

She seemed more demure, less blowsy than while in her Wolf phase the other night. Still very radiant, though. Anyway, brought to mind that bit from St. Francis of Assisi's Canticle of the Sun:

Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures,
especially through my lord Brother Sun,
who brings the day; and you give light through him.
And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendor!
Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.

Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars;
in the heavens you have made them bright, precious and beautiful.

One thing I'm noting: even when down, am not necessarily out, as there's too much beauty about for me to completely lose interest in life.

My fat cat diet and laser pointer therapy seem to be working, too. Since last March, I've lost 22 lbs. The goal is to lose another 15 and to get myself back into decent athletic shape. I think I can get the weight lost by mid Spring - just in time to start some serious hiking again.

***

Am still trying to decide if I'm a Happy Cat at heart, though, or too sad from too much bad. I know I try to be happy, just doesn't always happen, though.

Am noticing something interesting: Ampersand was not a happy cat. Her early life was rough and she was just too traumatized to really ever be at ease. I think she was thankful to have a warm place to sleep, people to keep her company and decent food to eat, though. The best I could do in her case was to make the end of her life better than the beginning.

Magnolia, on the other hand, seems to be a happy cat at heart who just went through some recent tough times. As the shelter folks thought might happen, she is starting to blossom into a more confident, strong animal. On watching her break up a fight between the boy cats today, I got the impression that she just might end up the boss of the house.



The Good Ship Maggie. Just got word from the vet: aside from some bad tartar and gingivitis, she's in good shape. Need to get a tooth cleaning scheduled soon.

Apparently, like me, she's a nervous eater when she's unhappy. Have her on a diet and am exercising her a good bit with the laser dot. She's going to be okay.

A Happy Birthday

This evening, I sat by an open window
and read till the light was gone and the book
was no more than a part of the darkness.
I could easily have switched on a lamp,
but I wanted to ride this day down into night,
to sit alone and smooth the unreadable page
with the pale gray ghost of my hand.

-Ted Kooser

Early Birthday Present and a Nice Memory From a Past Life.



Sorry for the bad posture. I'm hunching because it's cold! Should have dressed warmer.

I've been bitten by the Lace Bug, which has sort of caused me to rearrange my knitting goals for this year. Made the above shawl from a pattern on Ravelry called 198 Yds. of Heaven. I didn't use anything luxurious, just a bit of my favorite workhorse wool. Am really pleased with the results; was so fun to watch the triangle form itself on the circulars.

As I did stretch myself a bit to learn a new skill, the yarn's color reminds me of the North Atlantic and I *did* buy the yarn near a reach, decided to name this first, happy attempt simply 'reach.'

Finch Brunch.

This morning, we counted six goldfinches (three males - I think, three females) and four house finches (two males, two females) on the seed feeders. Mealtime was civil save for a bit of a dogfight between two of the male goldfinches.

The sparrows kept their distance for a while.

Pavel was so pleased, as he'd feared not seeing any goldfinches at all this year.

-Wouldn't it be nice, he asked, if we'd just get a bluejay in for the color? He could come swooping in yelling "global warming! Global warming!" at everyone and the regular working class finches would continue eating and try to ignore him best as possible. Kind of like everyone else around here does.

(snort)

Did get our wish: a bluejay swooped in a bit after, but kept silent and to himself. Saw him grab himself a good bit of suet (takeout?) and settle down to eat on a fencepost on the other side of the yard.

Full Moon and Frost Flowers.

Last night, was out in the elements for a good stretch (nearly three hours, I think). Sure it was cold and the wind was strong, but gosh, it felt *good.* Natural for this time of year. Really enjoyed it.

On the walk home, saw the sun fade out and the sky turn that glorious royal blue that one only really sees in the Winter. Craned my neck to the right (had to crane it, the joints were freezing!) and caught the Wolf Moon shining brightly just above the horizon.

At home, saw that it was playing with the frost in interesting ways on my upstairs window:



This does no justice to the view from the back window. The frost was acting as a prism and it was quite a colorful display.

Since I sleep under a roof that has windows in it, felt a bit like I was in more northern latitudes during Summer, as everything was lit like twilight for a good bit of the night.

This morning, checked the frost patterns again and found that they'd grown some overnight.



Not quite the sort of garden I'd like to be fussing over, but for this time of year, it'll do.

Cravings.

Probably dream every night, but just don't remember it. Since getting back from France this last time, though, have been remembering an awful lot of long (meaning movie length), coherent ones where I can actually follow the plot and figure out the source material for certain elements. For example: maybe four nights ago, the dream was a pastiche of various nasty things from the old job intermingled with scenes from Julien Sorel's first attendance at the de la Mole salon. (I was Julien, of course. Certain members of upper management were the courtiers. Instead of mid 21st century office furniture from Approved Dealers, the office was decorated in Second Empire style. Makes sense, actually.) Another dream from a week ago was my mind clearly hashing over how I was going to struggle through my mother's taxes.

These have been interesting, but not so interesting as the dreams I had over the past couple nights. The stories weren't much, but a new sense was introduced: taste. I was actually eating and enjoying what I was eating - the textures, the flavors, everything. Even remembered what I'd wanted so badly that I had to imagine it. The first night, it was fried chicken. Real fried chicken like a friend's mom used to make with seasoned flour and milk and served with mustard greens. It was perfect, too - just the right texture, fresh, not too salty, not greasy at all. The greens were a nice, bitter counterpoint to the chicken's buttery-ness.

Last night, I dreamed that my father and I went to an Italian pastry shop in Buffalo, I think, though people were paying in Euros. I was trying to decide between torta di ricotta and some sort of pecan pie thing. Ended up with this amazing chocolate cheesecake with preserved cherries on top. Actually woke up chewing and salivating.

The funny thing about both these lovely new experiences was that I don't much care for fried chicken or rich pastries in my awake life. Wonder why the brain chose them to get excited over?

The latest indignity inflicted on the new girl cat came from the vet and was itemized as "Express Anal Sacs."

Pavel's response being of course, "when they absolutely, positively have to be there overnight. (No third class for this girl.)"