10/31/05
Favourite New Thing
I can't get enough of the North American Halloween Prevention Initiative's Do They Know it's Halloween. It's been stuck in my head for three days.
10/27/05
Carbing up
OK so since there's no more gardening or weddings or anything, I've decided I'm going to write about food and knitting. Gennyland loves food, and gennyland's really into knitting.
Right now I am loving the following foods:
dried prunes (or fruits of any kind, really)
baklava
Mediterranée yoghurt (it's like pudding) - peach flavour
chewy chocolate brownies
Montreal-style bagels
...and I'm putting sundried tomatoes in everything.
What are your favourite foods right now? (I know there are maybe one or two of you out there who might answer this...)
Right now I am loving the following foods:
dried prunes (or fruits of any kind, really)
baklava
Mediterranée yoghurt (it's like pudding) - peach flavour
chewy chocolate brownies
Montreal-style bagels
...and I'm putting sundried tomatoes in everything.
What are your favourite foods right now? (I know there are maybe one or two of you out there who might answer this...)
10/26/05
Drizzle in my bones
I think there has been one sunny day in the last 3 weeks.
Being that it's the latter half of October, and being that we live in Canada, a nation not known for it's moderate climate, it should not surprise me that the weather lately has just sucked eggs. But man, it's hard to handle.
When I get up in the morning (at 6:30 or, ahem, um 6:50) it's dark. So dark that I have to feel my way down the stairs in a room full of windows. By the time I get out of the shower, feed the cats, fiddle with the woodstove and shuffle upstairs to get dressed, the sky is indigo. Or more of a dark cornflower. Whatever, it's dark and it's cold.
Then we leave the house at about 7:50 and it's just gray. And it stays that way for the rest of the day: gray and drizzley and chilly. The leaves long ago turned brown and yellow and fell off, and now it's plain ugly outside.
Oh and did I mention that it's dark when we get home too? Oh we can usually make out the path, unless we stop somewhere to buy something and are a bit late, in which case we have to feel our way into the house.
Did I also mention that we live in the woods? There aren't any streetlights, and we have been remiss in putting in adequate lighting on our property. Trick-or-treaters must take their life in their hands walking the 100 feet into our yard. I know I know, it's irresponsible, but we're working on it.
The drizzle seems to have set into my bones and is making me sick. I can't shake this cold that I've had for upwards of 2 weeks. I am cold. I am grumpy. The drizzle is bad for my marriage.
I think it's going to be sunny tomorrow. I am sure that I'll enjoy it from my office window.
(sigh)
Being that it's the latter half of October, and being that we live in Canada, a nation not known for it's moderate climate, it should not surprise me that the weather lately has just sucked eggs. But man, it's hard to handle.
When I get up in the morning (at 6:30 or, ahem, um 6:50) it's dark. So dark that I have to feel my way down the stairs in a room full of windows. By the time I get out of the shower, feed the cats, fiddle with the woodstove and shuffle upstairs to get dressed, the sky is indigo. Or more of a dark cornflower. Whatever, it's dark and it's cold.
Then we leave the house at about 7:50 and it's just gray. And it stays that way for the rest of the day: gray and drizzley and chilly. The leaves long ago turned brown and yellow and fell off, and now it's plain ugly outside.
Oh and did I mention that it's dark when we get home too? Oh we can usually make out the path, unless we stop somewhere to buy something and are a bit late, in which case we have to feel our way into the house.
Did I also mention that we live in the woods? There aren't any streetlights, and we have been remiss in putting in adequate lighting on our property. Trick-or-treaters must take their life in their hands walking the 100 feet into our yard. I know I know, it's irresponsible, but we're working on it.
The drizzle seems to have set into my bones and is making me sick. I can't shake this cold that I've had for upwards of 2 weeks. I am cold. I am grumpy. The drizzle is bad for my marriage.
I think it's going to be sunny tomorrow. I am sure that I'll enjoy it from my office window.
(sigh)
10/20/05
Cozy Feet
I am knitting socks.
I am the kind of person who would learn stonework and then immediately set out to build the great pyramids.
I learned how to knit last January after convincing myself for about 15 years that I was somehow unable to knit, or that I hated it too much or found it too boring to want to try it again. I made my grandfather a red knit tie (on his request - don't ask) back in the day, and I cursed every stitch. The pattern and the groove of the knitting never stuck in my brain, I have virtually no memory of making the thing, just that I hated it.
So when everyone in the world took up knitting last year, and because my mother had been harrassing me for ages to pick it up again, I decided to ask my mom for a tutorial over coffee one Saturday.
She quickly taught me the basic garter stitch. Bo-ring. I asked to learn the knit-purl stitch, so that was a bit of excitement. Within 20 minutes I asked her how increase and decrease, so that was a quick lesson. Then I was onto patterns in contrasting colours, which took another 20 minutes. My mom is a fabulous teacher, we know each other so well and speak the same language.
I went home and started messing around. I made experimental cat toys filled with catnip and stuffing, including one vaguely mouse-shaped thing. I started to knit something that had no form yet but which I was convinced would become a baby sweater with striped sleeves and a black cat head on the front. Ha.
I bought a bit of soft green acrylic at the local Giant Tiger and started on a sampler using a book of stitches mom lent me. I did cables. I did a basket weave stitch (my favourite). I learned all of those little tricky devils at once, and how to read patterns. Please note that I am not still talking about the same day, but rather a span of about 3 weeks. My mom gave me my paternal grandmother's collection of 1950's plastic psychedelic-coloured knitting needles so then I was really off to the races.
Then I bought the Stitch and Bitch book. I am a bit disappointed in it because most of the patterns are nothing that I'd ever wear or use, and I find many of them to be sloppily done (that bunny hat for babies sticks in my mind. The ear flaps are nowhere near the kid's ears). But the instructions are very helpful for beginners.
Next I made a baby sweater using an old pattern of my mom's, and it turned out fabulously. I made a variety of booties out of scraps of yarn. Then I used the S n'B book to make a little red baby beret featuring a black skull and crossbones on the front. I have discovered that the best routine is to use old patterns with new wools in new colours and switch it up a bit.
The next thing to tackle: Socks. My Waterloo.
My maternal grandmother is dutch (her name is Oma). She is a human knitting machine who can practically do one perfect sock in a night. She has been making socks since she was 7 years old, and she's now 80, so that's 73 years' worth of socks. I am terrified of the day that the flow of socks stops coming. But I wanted to surprise Oma with my new sock fixation, so I stubbornly bought a book. Well. None of the book patterns can match up to hers, and so I ended up having to call her to talk me through the turning of the heel. She did it without batting an eye, without even picking up her own knitting at the other end of the phone line. She's amazing and the heel turned out perfectly. The socks ended up coming out two different sizes, but at least the stitches are all perfect.
I've now decided that I'm going to knit Oma a pair of socks for Christmas. She gives them to us grandkids every year, but I've never seen her wearing them herself. I think it'll be hilarious to present her with her own lovingly-knitted pair. I am a stubborn little curr so plowed ahead on my own. I got pretty far - I only needed a talk-through on the second part of the heel-turning (I lied and told her this is a practice sock) - and I think I'm finally getting it. Although hubby did affectionately ask me what sizeS these are going to be.
Next year, everyone knows what they're getting for Christmas.
I am the kind of person who would learn stonework and then immediately set out to build the great pyramids.
I learned how to knit last January after convincing myself for about 15 years that I was somehow unable to knit, or that I hated it too much or found it too boring to want to try it again. I made my grandfather a red knit tie (on his request - don't ask) back in the day, and I cursed every stitch. The pattern and the groove of the knitting never stuck in my brain, I have virtually no memory of making the thing, just that I hated it.
So when everyone in the world took up knitting last year, and because my mother had been harrassing me for ages to pick it up again, I decided to ask my mom for a tutorial over coffee one Saturday.
She quickly taught me the basic garter stitch. Bo-ring. I asked to learn the knit-purl stitch, so that was a bit of excitement. Within 20 minutes I asked her how increase and decrease, so that was a quick lesson. Then I was onto patterns in contrasting colours, which took another 20 minutes. My mom is a fabulous teacher, we know each other so well and speak the same language.
I went home and started messing around. I made experimental cat toys filled with catnip and stuffing, including one vaguely mouse-shaped thing. I started to knit something that had no form yet but which I was convinced would become a baby sweater with striped sleeves and a black cat head on the front. Ha.
I bought a bit of soft green acrylic at the local Giant Tiger and started on a sampler using a book of stitches mom lent me. I did cables. I did a basket weave stitch (my favourite). I learned all of those little tricky devils at once, and how to read patterns. Please note that I am not still talking about the same day, but rather a span of about 3 weeks. My mom gave me my paternal grandmother's collection of 1950's plastic psychedelic-coloured knitting needles so then I was really off to the races.
Then I bought the Stitch and Bitch book. I am a bit disappointed in it because most of the patterns are nothing that I'd ever wear or use, and I find many of them to be sloppily done (that bunny hat for babies sticks in my mind. The ear flaps are nowhere near the kid's ears). But the instructions are very helpful for beginners.
Next I made a baby sweater using an old pattern of my mom's, and it turned out fabulously. I made a variety of booties out of scraps of yarn. Then I used the S n'B book to make a little red baby beret featuring a black skull and crossbones on the front. I have discovered that the best routine is to use old patterns with new wools in new colours and switch it up a bit.
The next thing to tackle: Socks. My Waterloo.
My maternal grandmother is dutch (her name is Oma). She is a human knitting machine who can practically do one perfect sock in a night. She has been making socks since she was 7 years old, and she's now 80, so that's 73 years' worth of socks. I am terrified of the day that the flow of socks stops coming. But I wanted to surprise Oma with my new sock fixation, so I stubbornly bought a book. Well. None of the book patterns can match up to hers, and so I ended up having to call her to talk me through the turning of the heel. She did it without batting an eye, without even picking up her own knitting at the other end of the phone line. She's amazing and the heel turned out perfectly. The socks ended up coming out two different sizes, but at least the stitches are all perfect.
I've now decided that I'm going to knit Oma a pair of socks for Christmas. She gives them to us grandkids every year, but I've never seen her wearing them herself. I think it'll be hilarious to present her with her own lovingly-knitted pair. I am a stubborn little curr so plowed ahead on my own. I got pretty far - I only needed a talk-through on the second part of the heel-turning (I lied and told her this is a practice sock) - and I think I'm finally getting it. Although hubby did affectionately ask me what sizeS these are going to be.
Next year, everyone knows what they're getting for Christmas.
10/19/05
Shifting Priorities
I have been a terrible blogger of late. As with everything I do, I'm really enthusiastic about it for about three weeks then I let it drop. I'm thinking that the dip in enthusiasm on this particular project is due to the fact that since we returned from the wedding (a shocking two-and-a-half months ago) I have neglected my garden to the point where it feels like someone else's yard. The lawn is about two feet tall and I am not exaggerating. I've let vegetables go bad on the vine and gave up on weeding ages ago. I am a bad blogger and apparently a bad gardener too.
In other news, fall is here in full force and it's been a wet one. Hubby and I are trying to hunker down and get our fall chores completed but we're being waylaid by travel plans and a lot of rain. Our to-do list this month includes stacking the remainder of our 10 cords of firewood into the shed, replacing the door in the basement, and building an awning/small overhang over the main door upstairs. When the snow starts to fall, I'm also going to remove the eavestrough on the north side of the house. We had a lot of leakage last winter, it was hellish and threw me into the depths of despair for about a week. I hate putting bowls down to catch water falling from the ceiling in my own kitchen. Whoever designed my house should be kicked in the shins.
So far Eric has managed to get 2/3 of the wood into the shed, and we've bought a new door, which is sitting in our basement. We've also designed and argued over the overhang. I figure it's a day project.
To thwart all of my plans, since the middle of September I have been to Vancouver (4 days) Toronto (2 days) St. John's Newfoundland (5 days) and Toronto again (2 days). Friday I'm off to Montreal. I don't put my suitcase away in the closet anymore. I am sick of airports and of Tim Horton's. My friends all think that the travelling is very glamorous and exciting and I will tell you that it's not; it's dirty and exhausting and makes my back hurt. The food is bad and I come home with an inch of grime on my face. I end up sitting in badly-lit airport waiting rooms, eating unhealthy things and talking to strangers at hours when I'd rather be cuddling in bed with warm cats and my knitting.
This weekend, i will probably mulch a bunch of plants, rip out a bunch of plants, and try to put things to bed a bit. Our focus now has to be on the inside, and on making sure our house is sound and warm for the winter. Soon we'll get the woodstove cranked up and we'll be off to the races for another season of frosty hijinks. At least I'll have warm blankets, good food, soft cats, a lovely husband, and my knitting.
In other news, fall is here in full force and it's been a wet one. Hubby and I are trying to hunker down and get our fall chores completed but we're being waylaid by travel plans and a lot of rain. Our to-do list this month includes stacking the remainder of our 10 cords of firewood into the shed, replacing the door in the basement, and building an awning/small overhang over the main door upstairs. When the snow starts to fall, I'm also going to remove the eavestrough on the north side of the house. We had a lot of leakage last winter, it was hellish and threw me into the depths of despair for about a week. I hate putting bowls down to catch water falling from the ceiling in my own kitchen. Whoever designed my house should be kicked in the shins.
So far Eric has managed to get 2/3 of the wood into the shed, and we've bought a new door, which is sitting in our basement. We've also designed and argued over the overhang. I figure it's a day project.
To thwart all of my plans, since the middle of September I have been to Vancouver (4 days) Toronto (2 days) St. John's Newfoundland (5 days) and Toronto again (2 days). Friday I'm off to Montreal. I don't put my suitcase away in the closet anymore. I am sick of airports and of Tim Horton's. My friends all think that the travelling is very glamorous and exciting and I will tell you that it's not; it's dirty and exhausting and makes my back hurt. The food is bad and I come home with an inch of grime on my face. I end up sitting in badly-lit airport waiting rooms, eating unhealthy things and talking to strangers at hours when I'd rather be cuddling in bed with warm cats and my knitting.
This weekend, i will probably mulch a bunch of plants, rip out a bunch of plants, and try to put things to bed a bit. Our focus now has to be on the inside, and on making sure our house is sound and warm for the winter. Soon we'll get the woodstove cranked up and we'll be off to the races for another season of frosty hijinks. At least I'll have warm blankets, good food, soft cats, a lovely husband, and my knitting.
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