Crisp and sweet
Just for this afternoon, I needed a project I didn’t have to pay attention to for the doctor’s office and I was fresh out. (Routine appointment, no worries.) Grabbed some violet merino/cashmere/silk Diamante I’d had Colourmart six-ply for me and cast on an hour beforehand and got enough done that you could tell what the pattern was going to be (and so it would be long enough that the curling bottom wouldn’t bug me–blocking will fix that later.)
I found myself sitting next to a fellow grandmother and knitter, a woman from India who loved watching my hands work as we delighted in each other. She was a treasure.
The doctor was the ENT whose love for taking care of his fruit trees had triggered my planting mine, and look where it got me now. Enthusiasm is contagious that way.
So I brought him a gift in a small Penzey’s box: one perfectly ripe, slightly funky-shaped rather small apple that had grown to fit the produce clamshell that had been squirrel-proofing it. I told him it was my final Fuji of the season.
He laughed in wonder, saying he’d picked his last Fuji in August!
Microclimates R Us, I guess.
It smelled perfect. I hope it was. There had been two, and we can tell you that the other had made it clear how good they were now.
Big and cuddly
Just had to hurry up and get that baby alpaca Chalet off the needles to be freed for that next project. Took two skeins.
Now for a good dunking on the thing.
Handknit warmth for the survivors and bereaved
A yarn store not far from the Tree of Life synagogue that was attacked is collecting squares to be made into afghans, with a deadline of December 1st and a request that you not weave the ends in (I imagine they want to use them for sewing the squares together in yarns that match.) Note that there are three synagogues that meet in the same building and all were affected.
Yarns By Design got permission from Nickie Epstein to share her Tree of Life pattern and posted it here.
I’m hoping I can find enough people in my area for us to finish at least one afghan in full.
I’ll let the shop tell the details of what they want. I’d love to hear any other ideas on designs.
Pattern: any and all designs and skill-levels are welcome
eg. Stars of David, trees, hearts, doves, plain, etc
Size: 9” horizontally by 8.5” vertically with a 5 row seed stitch edging
Yarn: Dk or sport weight (3 on the standard scale), super wash wool or other washable fibers only. Please make sure your yarn won’t felt!
Gauge: 6 stitches/in stockinette
Needle size: 5-7, or whatever you need to get gauge
Style: knit or crochet
All samples can be dropped off at the YBD boutique by December 1st, or mailed to us at:
Yarns By Design
622 Allegheny River Blvd
Oakmont PA 15139
For Pittsburgh
Sunday October 28th 2018, 9:43 pm
Filed under:
History,
Life
I wanted to say something yesterday but it was just too close. People I love knew people who were in the synagogue (link to their stories) where so many lives were taken and so many were hurt.
Here in our local Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, we have two wards that share the same building, switching off morning vs afternoon meeting times. We’re in the afternoon time slot this year.
Seats in the classrooms are set up by the morning crew for both wards to use and then put away by the afternoon one so that vacuuming can happen.
But there are not normally plastic chairs on the stand in the chapel. And they most especially are not left there for the second ward to deal with if there are–I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. It was startling to have a random set of them facing the audience that no one was using and that there seemed to be no reason nor plan for, at least as far as we were concerned.
And yet.
I have no idea if someone realized that this is what they were doing, and no mention was made of it.
But there they were, off to the side of the rise from where the choir sings and the speakers speak, some stacked, some single: somebody’s subconscious had apparently insisted they remain there.
Eleven empty chairs set before the congregation.
There could have been more below the table for the wounded, including the police who had tried to protect, but those eleven were the ones seen.
Eleven empty seats in that house of worship facing us, silently asking us throughout the meeting what we will do now, what we must do, so that someday there might be no more chairs emptied by hate.
Love and kindness, one simple human interaction at a time. We must.
Birdie trampoline
After connecting up the wrong rods while it was in a heap on the ground and having to undo and needing Richard to get the side supports but he had to duck way down to get in and only he could reach to screw that top support in… We did it!
Well. I’d measured three times before ordering. We did want the mango to have room to grow. It’s, um, big. It’s 53 pounds, ergo it has not been hoisted over the tree–yet.
I sent up a bat signal.
And said to Richard, Can you see that thing with the Cooper’s hawk’s talons?
Wouldn’t survive it, he thought.
Or the Great Blue heron landing top and center?
There be Dragon
Friday October 26th 2018, 10:38 pm
Filed under:
Knit,
LYS
Spent part of the afternoon hanging out at Green Planet: I had decided that the way to get this baby hat finished that I’d been avoiding was to spend some time with knitters. It had been too long. My hands don’t love the small needles, but in the context of a good conversation there were enough pauses and breaks without even thinking about it. And it was a simple knit.
It worked!
They had the most perfect rendition of Malabrigo Rios in Solis and I believe in supporting the yarn store that offers me their table and time with good friends.
Plus some Classic Elite Chalet baby alpaca/bamboo, one of my favorites, because that company has closed its doors and when the stock is gone it’s gone. For anybody who hasn’t heard.
All you need is love. Purple Piuma helps with that.
There was a phone call, there was news, it’s temporary (you know, one of those learning experiences), but for the moment it’s painful for the sake of the person going through it.
Man it felt good to sit down for an hour afterwards and make more of something soft and pretty to put out into the world. To do what I can to speed up the healing.
I really needed that.
More than a blurb on the ballot
A friend threw a potluck tonight to go over the ballot issues via a lively 15-way discussion.
And…voices stayed understated, everyone was a grownup, but it definitely felt lively there for a few minutes after one person quietly texted her friend the candidate, who showed up and was promptly peppered with questions. (The hostess was, um, a tad surprised, but invited her in and took it in stride very graciously.)
Turns out another woman there was dead set against her (I was a bit stunned at finding out why)–and after hearing the three of them each speak their piece, that candidate very much has my vote. She’s the equivalent of Christine Blasey Ford’s mom’s friend, who in our local case spoke up for the raped 14-year-old for 18 months, hounding school board members and the superintendent, telling that other woman’s kid on the school newspaper that using the defendant’s lawyer as your source for saying it was consensual and not interviewing anyone who said otherwise is so not cool and you must publish a retraction. This is a criminal case and you are contributing to the continuing victimization of the victim.
There was a second assault.
She kept on pushing until she got justice and the school instituted some changes. And now she’s running to be on that board.
The principal who kept trying to brush her off, who put consequences on the victim alone and none on the perpetrator, no support whatsoever for the girl, ended up fired.
Yeah. You bet I’m voting for this woman. She’s got nerves of steel and she will do the right thing no matter who or what power stands in her way.
I’d been debating doing early voting but had wanted to hold off till that dinner was over, and I can’t tell you how glad I am that I did.
I had no idea when I planted it what it would ever look like later
Tuesday October 23rd 2018, 9:46 pm
Filed under:
Mango tree
Another mango tree picture, for the sake of the wonderful folks at the county extension service and the UC Master Gardeners who helped me with my question re the Sunbubble and the type of heater.
You can see one of the smaller mangoes at the middle, front and bottom.
It’s just beginning to set more fruit in those clusters at upper left.
Don’t dill-y dally
Monday October 22nd 2018, 9:31 pm
Filed under:
Food
Pelmeni, it said. Russian-style dumplings filled with chicken, mushrooms, onion (so far so good) and…dill? (That last word nearly stopped me but I was curious.)
Poor little noodle. It was glorious in Italy but as it marched north its pace slowed and when France was no longer in sight its flavors jumped out the train windows in despair. A prisoner now in its Siberian surroundings, it did what it could.
And now you know the inspiration for the great Russian novels and why they’re always so mournful.
Their pasta is in a pickle. And the pasta is prologue.
Bok, bokbokbokbok
Sunday October 21st 2018, 8:37 pm
Filed under:
Knit
That was the closest game of yarn chicken I have played in a long time. Six inches–less than the leftover length from the long-tail cast on. Definitely put that full skein to use.
Now for the quick soak and shake to let those stitches relax.
Searsiously
How hard is it to find a thing that works.
Plenty, turns out.
I spent several hours today researching and looking and trying to find a good heater for a small greenhouse. All I could find was cheap Chinese knock-offs that looked like the old tried and true but had dismal, awful reviews. Whatever happened to the ones built to last? To even work?
It finally hit me: Sears used to make good tools for the working man. You didn’t want to freeze in that garage with the door open to the world while you worked on that car.
And so I tried them, knowing full well their vulture capitalist CEO is trying to kill the company as fast as he can for what he can skim off the top and he’s certainly not putting any money into improving product lines.
Lo and behold. One color left: bright red. I can handle that. Stellar reviews. Hey. Happy reviews. One said, I tried all those others but this one actually works and actually keeps working.
So it will be my wistful wave good-bye to what once was, both Sears and decent appliance manufacturing standards, and it is on its way. Wish me luck.
All by way of saying, I’m going to have to let Eli gently down and tell him that (hopefully) I’m not going to be needing him to cover and uncover the mango tree when I’m out of town anymore: my husband told me he thought I should order that Sunbubble greenhouse and a good heater and not to have to worry about being here at the right time every single morning and night, flu or not.
Get the big one, he said. You know it’ll grow into it.
I finally let myself feel just how freeing that will be. The tree can just…quietly, on its own…do its own thing.
Christmas is coming early.
My husband’s the best.
Don’t read this at bedtime
The little sugar ants love the sweet-selling mango blossoms. Individually, they’re kind of their size. It’s a toss-up whether trying to pick them off damages more of the fragile things than they do–but sprinkle some cinnamon on them and they fall right out of the tree.
Which has cut down on their numbers, but still, just about every day right now I’m out there taking care of a few more. Get the scouts to keep the hordes from ascending.
There were floral clusters in nine places now, the biggest at the top where there’s the most sun, smaller and newer ones below. I checked those out to be sure.
And had an impulse, as I walked back in the door, to check my hair to make sure I hadn’t picked one of those up while looking through the branches. Yeah, no, I’ve checked before and there never is–quit being bug-phobic.
A few minutes later Richard had no idea what I was shrieking about but he did what I said and instantly went running and came back with a fistful of eye drops. I couldn’t see. There was this left arm over my face and I wasn’t about to move it.
Just one? Take the lid off for me? I was desperate.
Then, You want another?
Please yes.
It had fallen out of my hair onto my eyelashes and tumbled straight into… I’d suddenly had an ant walking across my eyeball. When I instantly closed my eye it was literally six feet, under.
(This got me to go look it up: ants have not just stickiness but claws at the end of each of their legs. Oh joy.)
I promise you next time I will check my hair. Promise.
New neighbor
Thursday October 18th 2018, 10:24 pm
Filed under:
Friends,
Life
I happened to come home from the grocery store exactly as she was coming out.
I have always waved to the neighbors and been the one to step across the wide street to say hi for a moment, letting them know they’re welcome anytime. Thus the memories of two moms and their small children following me to go see the dove’s nest on top of our ladder leaned against the back of the house, holding the little ones high so they could get a view of the baby dove peeking back at them from under its momma’s wing.
Today it was someone new stepping out of the house across the street who waved to me as I waved hi to her–and she’s the one who promptly crossed the street, holding her hand out to introduce herself.
I instantly liked her. No, she told me, the widower hadn’t sold the place–he was renting it to them, but with some work to be done first so they’ll be moving in the first of December and she was quite excited about it. The kids could walk to their school. She loved the neighborhood. She was clearly glad to meet a friendly face right off.
We chatted a moment. It there still a pool in the back yard? I wondered out loud.
Yes, there is!
I told her that the then-ten-year-old living there (the not-yet-a-widower’s son) had been in it when the Loma Prieta quake had hit and it had whooshed him right out of the water.
Omigosh! Her eyes got big and she laughed. Surf’s up!
That house has been quiet a few months now, with a worker’s truck in the driveway by day and emptiness by night.
I can’t wait till they move in.
Katherine now
One week ago, a name popped up in the comments on a Facebook post and I did a double take. We instantly friended each other, and I got to read about a few of her experiences with Catholic Relief Services in Africa. (Do you still go by Katie? I haven’t gone by Katie for 35 years! …I’m behind…)
Then yesterday she posted a picture inside San Francisco airport–because the airline had lost her bag and she was going to have to go fast to buy some clothes before the meeting tomorrow in…
And I went hey, that means you’ll be driving practically right past my house!
Which is how Katherine, my friend since junior high and whom I had not seen since high school graduation, carved two hours out of her very busy trip and spent them today with me and we caught up on forty-one years of life.
“You kind of disappeared,” she told me. I did. I married at 21 and then school and grad school and being broke and kids and distance and we simply didn’t get home for a long time and have never been there for long when we are. I have not seen my favorite mountain laurel in bloom but for three fading tiny blossoms on a single cluster since I was 18.
She married late and no children came, but he was the great love of her life. To describe his generosity, she described his knitting: she was one of six children and there were all these nieces and nephews on her side. One Christmas he knitted them all mittens.
Double knitting mittens. Twenty-four pairs!
Twenty. Four. Pairs. Of double knitting??
I was completely boggled.
He was completely adored.
Ten happy years. Then his cancer. Even in hospice, right to the end, she said, he was knitting for others.
And he loved my friend Katherine and that alone would have been good enough for me. I so wish I could have met him.
I told her, My memories of you from junior high is that you were always nice to everyone. Without fail. At a time in life when kids are so easily snarky and mean you were unfailingly kind.
She was someone I wanted to be a lot more like. Still do.
I sent her back out into the world with a copy of my book and some knitting (thank you for the gorgeous yarn, Lisa!) of my own.
Alaska Air reimbursed her on her clothing purchase.
It was their baggage handling that sparked us those two marvelous hours.