Les Mains Vertes, II

Though the weather's glorious out now, am brushing up on my Rain Dance: the cistern's almost empty and I've been flirting pretty seriously with a sunburn. Such a far cry from a couple weeks back when no sun would be seen for days, the garden plots were all soggy, and we were huddled in woolens, seriously contemplating turning the heat on again.

Aah, but what a growth spurt said wet contributed to -



Am I a bit mossy about the edges?

The above was the result of a few not-at-all related projects: my taking up dyeing a huge mass of cream-colored wool, a stab at the May project (mittens) in EZ's Knitters Almanac, and the need to make folks on my day-to-day route smile a bit (hey, we need to get our sunshine somewhere). (Pattern Available Here.)




Have fun with these! (Am seriously thinking of making a few more pairs of these in Fall colors.)

Wanted to post some pictures from a recent Urban Expedition. Also wanted to talk about another added bit of fuel to my neurotic fire about returning to France in the near future. All this is getting put on the back burner, because Harry's back from Africa, safe and sound, and that trumps all.

Mind Over Matter.

I'm very happy to report that I've gotten past being Peed Off at knitting socks.



Turkish toe-up socks! Aren't they pretty? The color of the yarn, a worsted-weight acrylic, kind of reminds me of beach glass. For that and my change in attitude, am thinking of calling them "sea change."

With a bit of determination and a lot of help from some friends over at Ravelry, figured out how to do the Eastern style toe-up technique*, rather than work from the cuff down. Made all the difference in the world and I absolutely flew through these.

Don't know if I'm necessarily hooked on sock knitting like I've heard so many others to be. Will have to knit a few more pairs and get back to folks on this.

***

* I've heard it said that socks and (I think) mittens are knitted from tip to cuff, as the knitter always wants to be knitting towards the heart. I don't know if that's true, but it is awfully poetic.

Pho.

Am on a quarterly schedule with a lot of friends - not bad or good, just is so. Actually, I think that an awful lot of folks run on that sort of calendar due to life changes, etc. At holiday time, it gets worse. Family issues strike, even more so. Anyway, one of the brighter sparks in my life that'd been somewhat reduced to a distant glimmer, came back into the foreground lunchtime today*. Enjoyed the food, particularly enjoyed the company.

Generally, we opt for Asian food of some sort, so decided on the relatively new pho place around the block and down the street from me. Now, I like them; have found the basics that I like and that should be good to be perfectly fine**. He gets out a bit more than I do to such restaurants, so was curious about his take on things. Started off with the summer rolls and an order of tod mun***. Was first off charmed that the fish cakes were obviously made by hand, hot and fresh. The sauce was wonderfully perfumed with citronella and coriander. Could feel myself smiling automatically at the taste. Nothing to complain about on the summer rolls, either, save that we couldn't eat all of what they'd given us in order to save room for the soup.

My friend had the pho ga (chicken), while I had bo vien (beef with meatballs). I think he was happy with his; I know that I enjoyed mine. Heck, didn't even feel the need to spice it up with pepper paste or the sweet sauce. Just enjoyed it nature, with the fresh basil and sprouts. As we'd been debating pronunciation of the name, got the definitive answer from the waitress: [fə], just like the French feu****.

Lunch over, time to get back to life. Should get out more to see folks, to lunch in general. Glad that there's a pretty good so far Vietnamese place in the neighborhood. They're actually kind of few and far between north of the Charles.

***

* Am trying my darndest to not reference flickering shadows on a cave wall.

**Summer rolls, bun, Vietnamese crepe. The last is one of my favorite comfort foods, and I think theirs is particularly luscious.

***A serious favorite of mine, but always fraught with hazard. Have ordered this in much more expensive restaurants and have been served what seemed like fish sticks served with a dipping sauce.

****I've read that the pho comes from 'pot au feu.' Makes sense. Come to think of it, most of the soups I make tend to be less French soups than pots au feu; in fact, unless I make something specifically French like an Onion Soup or a veloute, we generally call it pot au feu.

As I'd mentioned earlier - had been reading a very interesting book on Ancient Rome by this fellow. The first couple chapters on the structure of the urbs as well as the distribution of domii to insulae (houses vs apartment buildings) and water rights was fascinating; it sort of gave lie to what I'd previously learned about these things in the past.

Where it gets *really* interesting, though, is when we break away from the urban planning study of the eminent Archaeologist and start to look at his interpretation of primary source materials to paint a picture of family life, education, religion, women's roles in society, etc. Even before learning of his placement in Vichy, had a Blink moment where images from Olympia were flashing behind the words. "Hmm, interesting," I thought. "Am learning an awful lot about the writer, too." Anyway, am about 1/2 way through, and am enjoying it on a number of levels.

This has kind of spurred me on to look again at works of the Progressives (the folks who, among other things, brought us the all-white, pro South view of Reconstruction among other things), some of the post-Progressives (like Hofstadter - love how he writes. He makes very clear his prejudices, and very entertainingly so. Will argue forever that The American Political Tradition is one of the best post WWII histories out there - take my praise with a huge grain of salt; I'm new to the History thing), as well as some of the older interpretations of the Middle Ages I'd read in the past life (namely Bedier, Huizinga - scored a copy of his Waning of the Middle Ages at a library sale recently for a quarter. Remembered loving that book as a kid.)

From there, it'd probably be good for me to check out a copy of Howard Zinn's People's History of the United States, if only to see how much I can pick up on him and what I think might be the modern equivalent to Fascist European interpretations of history. (Again, take this with a huge grain of salt; might be totally valid. Then again, fifty to 100 years from now, maybe there'll be another girl sitting reading her dollar copy of the book with the same bemusement that I feel lying in bed with Carcopino's Daily Life in Ancient Rome.)

Vrijdagmuziek.

Een mooi(e) verzion vaan deze loverly, but oh, so decadent adaptation of nasty stuff:



Happy Friday and vrolijke (een beetje spaatelijk?) nieuwjaar! (snort)

Spin a Yarn.

A number of years ago, I treated myself to a drop spindle, some wool and a spinning lesson. For all sorts of reasons (one major one being a back injury that the posture I assumed while spinning was aggravating), I stopped. Resolved this year to get back into 'the spin of things' so to speak.

Gorged myself on How To videos and actually sat down to read the two manuals I had on the subject. Ended up with this last night:



The twist is a lot looser and the resulting product is certainly bulkier than I'd like, but it's a start. I've got just short of 10 yards of it.



This is the second batch that I'm working on - still a lot of variation in thickness and still way bulkier than I'd like, but again, it's a start. Here, I started loosening up a bit. Stopped trying to control the twist and actually let myself feel the transformation of Potential to Kinetic up the strand to the fleece. Got a huge blister on the thumb doing this, but was worth it.

The most difficult part of things has been "drafting," or regulating the flow of fleece into the spin. This is going to take a lot of work. For the moment, I'm doing what's called "park and draft," where I spin the spindle, then stop it to conserve the energy until I need it. Then I move the spin up the thread as I need it. Have also been "pre drafting" or separating chunks of fiber into a more manageable thickness before spinning and wrapping it around my arm so that I don't have to worry about doing all this one-handed. It's clumsy and slow, but has been good for isolating the different movements my body needs to learn. Has also been cutting down on entanglements and my getting rapped by the spindle when I lose control of it.

Like with translating, Hanon and stomach crunches, am going to give myself a few minutes a day to build up strength. May not see the results for a bit, but then again, small bits do add up. Perhaps after a bit, as well, I'll be ruing not having the chunks and variations in my fine stuff, as a fine-spinning new friend tells me may happen.

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.

The Pale Flower of Spring Hill.



Daisy Magnolia. Daisy's what her original people called her. For whatever reason, the shelter she ended up at changed her official name to Magnolia. Pavel likes calling her Maggie, Mags or just Silly Maggie. I alternate between the simple 'girl kitty' and savoring the full four syllables of her pink flower name.

Brought her home last night with very little incident aside from a bit of totally-understandable miaowling in the car. First thing was to scope out a safe place under the bed, of course. After a minute or two, curiosity got the best of our heroine and she did a full exploration of the perimeter of the new living space.

Of course, the boys were fascinated. (This time around, I think that it's Tony who's got the crush. Trouble's interested, but not as obsessed with her as he was with Ampersand.) The girl is showing pointed disinterest towards them both.

Will be interesting to see how this all plays out. I know for myself that have had the heart hooked. She's really a dear. Hope she grows happier here.

I'm Getting/I've Got This Year's Hit:



A blast from the past, ca. 2002. Don't think that much of this is happening in Iceland nowadays.

Eg = ich (ego)
kaupi/th/i = kaufe
ploetu = plat/plate/disk
arsins = jahr/year, sins/dieses = this

***

Neither Pavel nor I speak Icelandic. He seems to think that Kau/pi/thi is the imperative and that the title's exhorting us to buy the record. Have no idea. Fun to lazily conjecture after a good, warm meal on a cold night, though.

Fall in the Boston Area means a lot of things for a lot of people. For us, though, it means library sales. Pavel's been doing his research and it looks like we've got at least one library to visit each weekend to the start of December.

Yesterday, only made it to one. This was because, between everyone having "town day" and all the lane closings for construction, we spent an awful lot of time in traffic. Still, at Bedford, found many wonderful things. Today, it looks like we're going to try to visit Wellesley, Acton and Medford. We'll see what happens.

Just read that Mary Travers of Peter, Paul and Mary passed away the other day. Remembered hearing this song as a kid and wanting to learn how to sing (and dance, laugh, have fun...all while keeping the beat):

I dig rock n roll music
Uploaded by dcck105. - See the latest featured music videos.

(Sad.)

There were so many thing in the Eighties that were so wrong; aesthetically and otherwise.

Patrick Swayze was something right.

(click here. Embedding's disabled.)

Rest in Peace.

"...For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)/it's always ourselves we find in the sea."



Ripples in the sand at Sandy Point.

Spent some Quality Time with the Pavel and his sister on Plum Island yesterday. I share the quotidien with Pavel, so often miss the forest through the trees in his case. Anna, though she lives so nearby, is someone I don't spend nearly enough time with. This is hammered home each time I do see her. Idem for the Sea. (More pictures here, if you're interested.)



I was trying for a candid shot of Anna, but Pavel ended up walking on scene. Love it when he does that. Adds interest.

Toured Hellcat Swamp, looked at* birds at Sandy Point, then had dinner at The Grog**. Really, could there be a better way to end Summer?



Off into the sunset.

***

* As opposed to "birdwatching." We see birds and identify them. We do NOT go out to remote places with expensive equipment and identify plastic shopping bags as eagles.

** For an appetizer, we had squash ravioli with a cranberry-apple-apple cider sauce. Anna had the Sole Almondine with a really nice homemade pilaf. I had the Meatloaf special (luscious!), and Pavel had the burgah of the day. Wasn't totally happy with it; said was kind of gilding the lily with the port wine cheese and rosemary ham. Oh well, two outta three ain't bad.)

Fourth of July, Salem, MA

A picture perfect end to what turned out to be a gift of a day:



Anna keeps insisting that her brother's adopted. I'm not convinced.



Flyover! The building in the lower left hand corner is the Salem Custom House, where Nathaniel Hawthorne (who, coincidentally, was born on the Fourth of July) worked for a spell.



Fireworks! Salem really put on a nice show. The moon offset rather than outshowed the rockets.

(More pictures here, in case you're interested.)

Sehnsuchten.

While Pavel and the Frenchie worked on a birdhouse (almost done! just needs to be finished. The Frenchie recommends canola oil.), I got the garden plot measured out, cut into and bordered. Got the soil mixed and heaped up in the center of things just before the rain started, so it looks kind of like a newly-dug grave. Pavel took a couple boards, nailed them into a cross and hammered it in. Ought to give the neighbor a bit more food for thought with tomorrow morning's stogie.

Not a big garden - only about 4' x 5' - but should be enough to keep me out of trouble this season. When the weather improves (hopefully by the end of the week; we'll see.), I plan on evening things out and planting the lettuce, pea seeds and radish seeds. After that, tomatoes, cukes, bok choy. Will have to get some more containers for the herbs (sage, thyme, oregano, tarragon, lavender, marjoram, mint) as I used my two big ones up on the strawberries.

***

Time now for a late tea, showers for everyone, an even later dinner, than some other work (reading on Fascism for class and this.) Pavel and the Frenchie are going to attempt this tonight. (Wish them luck).

In less than two weeks, Paris comes to Boston again. Can't wait.

Recent Stuff.

Pavel's valentine this year was a little cardinal.



He's sitting in his knitted nest in the kitchen window looking out on the yew tree. Maybe he's even daydreaming about finding a girl cardinal to cuddle with. (One of our regulars is a gorgeous, olive-plumed supermodel of a female. Don't blame the knitted boy if he's a bit smitten with her. I know I am.)

After I finished the Frenchie's scarf (and a hat from the leftover yarn), decided to pay a visit to my favorite market stall in Versailles for another treat. This time around, I got two skeins (at less than five euro a piece! For Alpaca, for crying out loud!) of Katia Andes Alpaca in a cool silver color. Told the lady that, since it was Spring, I wanted to do a bit of lace.



Ultimate Airplane Knitting. This lace pattern is so simple and so, well, gratifying, that it's practically knitting itself. The yarn worked out well with the airplane needle - an size seven plastic circular that I received one Christmas with a bunch of other old knitting accessories.

This really caught the eye of a few of the flight attendants. Received lots of compliments, both on the pattern and the yarn. Can't wait till it's done, blocked and ready-to-wear. Am keeping it for myself (for a change).