It was a dark and stormy afternoon,

I meant to start the flower basket shawl. I don't know what came over me.

as always, please excuse the dark picture. If Mother Nature does not cooperate, you will either get a picture that is too exposed, or too dark.
Madli's shawl, Summer 2004 Interweave knits
NOT
Flower Basket Shawl, Fall 2004 Interweave knits.

All wound up!

Taking all your hints about winding yarn to heart, I decided to get started. No time like the present, right? I have no house elves waiting to make my day, so I have to do it myself.
After reading Greta's suggestion of challenging/racing the kids to a ball winding duel, I tried rounding up the teens.
Me: Come on kids, we are going to have a little race!
Derek: (brushing aside his earphones) WHAT? (sharply)
Bethany: .........(silence accompanied by a quick LOOK)
Me: I need help winding yarn and you two are going to help me
Derek and Bethany: laughing as they leave the room, eyes rolling in a way that will make all teens proud
Okay, I know that plan would have worked if they were younger.
Then I think about Emily's idea.
Nostepinne Also a good video here.
I start wandering around the house, looking for a nostepinne substitute. Luckily, I am always out of paper towels, the dowel being free. Why can't I remember to buy them, anyway? Is it denial? No paper towels, no cleaning? Is it loyalty to the planet and it's trees? My own personal crusade?
I digress.
I start the winding. It's fun. It's functional. My family think I am crazy. I am making an egg on a stick. Mom has finally cracked. They knew it would happen. They've been nursing it along all this time anyway.
BUT. It took me 1 1/2 hours. Which, coincidentally is the same amount of time it took me to roll up lace weight yarn. And THIS is my beef with it all. Not the winding. Not the process. Because, as we all know, we should enjoy the process. But at 1 1/2 hours per skein, needing 2 to double the yarn, that is 3 hours of rolling time that could have otherwise been knitting time.
I wish I had never had this realization because then I'd be blissfully winding up mounds of yarn, unaware that I could be doing something else.

Kind of cute, though, isn't it?
Finally a good use for that paper towel holder.
And I have to say, that I enjoyed the process much more doing it this way. Tonight, I'll roll up ball number 2.
I look forward to it.

One handed

Is this the cutest note card ever? Jenn, the KnitWitMomma herself surprised me with a pack of these and a starbucks gift certificate! Thank you, Jenn! What a wonderful surprise!
Onesies
Looks like I'm getting things done by the onesies lately. One mitten done:

A little freaky looking with the thumb trying to blend in and not really succeeding! This mitten is love. Songs could be written about this mitten. Or perhaps it's more about the alpaca yarn from Knitpicks. Cheap AND wonderful. A girl's dream, is it not?
I believe I have now sunk to a new low. Really. I have a hankering to begin (again, with 2 strands lace weight this time) the flower basket shawl. What's stopping me? This is the sad part: I have to roll up 2 skeins of alpaca lace weight. Roll by hand a mile and a half of skinny minny yarn. And the avoidance of such a task is making me put off knitting it.
Yes. I know.
I should invest in a swift and ball winder. Why aren't they cheaper for us FRUGAL gals??
I wonder if I can pay someone around here to do it for me.
Hmmm..
Since when has rolling yarn become such a dreaded activity? I even contemplated laying it across the back of a chair and knitting from it there.
That would be bad, right?

My Foot! (ie)

I spent Saturday in a post-party coma, napping and well, to be frank, sweating my way through the day. Oh, I'm sorry, us ladies do not sweat, correct? So, I PERSPIRED my way through the day. In the evening, with a cloudy head, not a thought to be had for miles, I picked up the knitting needles (putting a thumb on the alpaca mittens, one is almost done) and my head cleared. I could put 2 thought together! Was it a miracle? No. It was knitting. I never realized before how it focuses the mind. I had always thought that it unfocused me so my thoughts could ramble. I guess not.
Knitting! The sure cure for mind fog!
Sunday dawned hot and steamy, just as promised. I dug out some koigu long ago gifted to me by the wonderful Alison and thought that her footie sock would do the trick for the day.
I cast on at 11 am.
I knit throughout the day. Not exclusively. But often.
At 10:30 pm, I had this:

I am still thrilled beyond reason when it actually LOOKS like a sock!
Footies are a fun knit. No sooner have you started and you are knitting a heel. Instant gratification. As instant as it gets in the knit world. And koigu? I don't need to extol it's virtues, do I?
To sum up: Koigu = heaven. Simple. Nothing beats the colors of koigu either. Nothing. Except nature. I'll give Mother Nature the nod, when due!
Here's my thoughts after footie 1. The pattern called for a Short row heel. While my mind DID clear, it was not THAT clear. I cannot make heads or tails of that procedure. YET. It will not beat me. I will conquer. Someday. Just not this weekend. Perhaps I will have her give me a private lesson one of these days. For now, it's a regular heel for me. Footie is also a bit loose at the top. I need to fudge the numbers a bit to get a snugger fit. I also think I will change to a US2. What does all this mean for footie number 1? I believe it will be a loner. A trial. A sample.
Poor little thing.

Party planner

Am I still alive? Did I survive the party?
~~~
Party went off without a hitch. The couple of honor were pleasantly and totally surprised. There was plenty of food for the 55 or so attendees. And enough left over for another party of 55 to come through. Which, really, is a good thing.
We got compliments on the decorations.
We got compliments on the food.
We got compliments on our children.
We even got called some nice things.
Aw....shucks!
But today, I am a useless lump of acrylic.
Hee!
I don't have energy to do ANY-THING.
Plus, it's about 93 degrees (that's 34 to you Celcius fans!) and I feel like I'm melting. Andy and I have made the conscious decision not to have air conditioners blocking our precious windows. Living near the ocean, MOST summer nights cool off wonderfully. Most. Not all. Then there is about 2 weeks worth that I would sell my big toe to have cool air blowing on me.
So, no energy. My mind cannot concentrate on a thing. I keep taking naps. And all I can think of to make me feel better is, "At least I'm not Claudia!" Not a healthy attitude, though. I really am thankful that my ass is not on a bike today, tandem or not.
GO CLAUDIA!
How about a couple of pictures of the surprised couple?

Food anyone?

Picture table:

Tables decorated:

Cake:

Dancing:

Sis in law, co-party planner, all around sweetpea, Cheryl dancing with her Mom. It's the only dancing picture that I have that is not all blurry. Too much boogieing, I guess.
Looks like it was a party, eh?
Here's to another fifty years!
~~~~
Pssst: By the way, I'm off the shitlist! YIPPEE!
:)

Sweet!

Hersheys miniatures magically turned into cool par-tay fun! (Thanks, Barb!) (And, Thanks, Bethany for the endless glue action!)


My eyes are sleepy, my feet are sore, my assorted salads are made and chilling. As I was, you know, tasting all the foods being made, I had a thought that grazing ones way through an evening was probably not the best use of nutrition. So, I got myself out a yogurt smoothie. Strawberry. Yum. Delicious AND nutritious. I drink a large sized swig, wipe my smoothie mustache, emiting an "AHHHHHHH!", enjoying every taste buds worth. I continue my dicing, slicing, chopping, and such. I reach for the pepper mill and it happens. I hit the smoothie and it spills. Not onto the floor. No. That would have been bad enough. It fell into the pulled out drawer. The drawer holding all the wraps. Aluminum foil, plastic wrap, various ziploc type bags. Covered. In. Yogurt. Smoothie.
RATS.
AND.
It was the last smoothie in the house.
CRAPOLA.
Okay, that drawer was in serious need of a cleaning anyway, but just not on the party-eve.
The rest of the evening, I keep pulling the drawer open to gaze at it's cleanedness. (made up word)
I could go for a smoothie right now.

Pot farm

Knit? I have not. But my house has gone to pot. A regular pot farm, if you will.

MariGOLDs to be used as table centerpieces at the 50th wedding anniversary party, doubling as favors to take home.

Bethany and I glued golden lace on the edges and then wrote on the pot with a special terra cotta marker. Who knew they had such things?
My mind is filled with lists of things to buy and lists of things to do. Party is 2 days and counting.

How are YOU?

What a weekend!
~My mother in law is mad at me. Well, at all the family, really. She believes that we have forgotten their 50th wedding anniversary. Which is good, because we have LED her to believe that. Surprise Party is this Friday. Should be fun!
As an aside, now you know what I'll be doing all week. Party planning. Party worrying.
~Fig, the cat has the beginnings of kidney disease. It's tough getting old. This thought leaves me with a prickle of fear.
~I started (again) the Flower Basket shawl from Interweave knits, fall 2004 with some wonderful knitpicks alpaca cloud yarn, colorway stream, in case you are interested. The first awful realization was that I do not have in my possession the second page of the pattern. That will be one silly looking shawl with only 24 or so rows to it. Perhaps it will be a bracelet. A wrist shawl. They will be all the rage.
Second awful realization: How can you people knit with this eency yarn?? I struggled. Let's just leave it at that. I am not thrilled with lace weight yarn. Fills me with dread for the yarn and pattern making it's way to my mailbox as we speak.
~Darling college son stays up all night long and sleeps all day. This bugs the living crap out of me. I did not mind for a week. Or two. I understand. I remember. Okay, now it's time to GET A JOB. Mow lawns, deliver newspapers. ANYTHING productive.
sigh
~Seeing a great looking cake on Barefoot contessa, I plan this as my dessert for father's day. The website has all the other recipes for that day except that one. I rack my brain for idea number 2 and can't come up with a one. Then I get a brilliant idea. In retrospect, not so brilliant. The cake is a tartine. Apples lined up in a pretty row on the bottom of a pie plate, covered with homemade caramel, cake recipe on top. YUM, right? Okay. apples go in the pan. Sugar and water go in a saucepan to boil it's way to caramel land. Did you know that there is very little time between nicely brown and burnt in caramel land? Did I say "very little time"? I meant to say MINISCULE of a SECOND. Something like, "oooooh, is it getting brown? Take it out of the pan QUICK!". Okay, lesson learned. Pan number one is still soaking as we speak. I wonder how long it will take to chisel off black caramel that appears glasslike. Caramel batch number 2 goes only a bit better. I poured it over the apples, made a hot milk sponge cake from Martha and bake. Upon exiting the oven, I flip it over onto a beautiful cake plate, creating the desired stunning effect of apples and caramel on top. Everything was fine, until we TASTED IT. Ick. The caramel WAS burnt after all.
Never fear: we bought Andy an ice cream maker for father's day. More ice cream, family?
Other than that, I'm fine, how are you?

An exclamation of thanks, while getting a grip on myself

Lately, I've been feeling a little scatter brained. I believe this happens whenever we get a particularly hot and torturous stretch of weather. When the cooling happens, my mind goes into shock or something and I can't string thoughts together for a while. Fried brain at it's finest, I guess.
Knitting around here has been slow. One alpaca mitten is almost done. What have I been doing? Reading. The 4th Harry Potter, Goblet of fire, I believe. Bethany cannot wait until the new Harry Potter book comes out. In fact, she has joined Chappysmom in rereading the HP books. Now that finals are over for her, she can concentrate on the reading. Although, she could not reread the 1st book because we lent it out to someone who has not returned it. Don't you hate that?? They have had it for a couple of years now, I should really replace it.
I know that I cannot get that much read in a couple weeks time, so I am reading the 4th and 5th to catch me up. I fell behind on the Harry Potter. This seems as good a time as any to get up to speed.
I cannot read as fast as I used to. Fried brain, remember? Is THIS the joys of getting older? Not being able to read as fast? falling asleep on the couch when trying to watch a movie? (Sandlot 2, by the way. NOT as good as the first. Don't even bother to watch it. Just go watch The Sandlot again)
A Day of Thanks
Some big THANK YOU'S need to go out here. First of all to Norma and Cassie, who thought of me during the recent fiber fests and made sure I had a memento. Or two.

Does everyone's keys look like this? Store tags abound!
Sheepy keychain, from the Maryland fiber fest. LOVE IT! Thank you ladies! And they also sent along a wonderful program from the NH fiber fest. I have been poring over it so much that it's getting dog eared. I have visited all the websites. Twice.
Thank you Norma and Cassie for making me feel a part of the fun.
A big thank you to Julie! You made my day with this surprise:

Stitch Markers! Can a knitter have too many? I think not!
You knitters really are a great bunch. The best gift of all? Time spent with you.
sniffsniff. I'm so sappy today! I'd better end here before I start swaying, singing and exclaiming how much I love you guys!
Happy Saturday.

Haiku for a woolcentric blog*

*woolcentric: see Cassie's blog. Or any knitting blog, really!
Here is my haiku for her contest. Thought I'd share.

Wool Haiku:
It's 10:32
And here I have no poem
Wool is my hero
~~~
Gotta love the haiku.

Doctor Bombay, Doctor Bombay, Come right away!

Wild broomsticks couldn't keep me away from Salem, Massachusetts today to be present for the unveiling of the Bewitched Statue. Salem is the next town from me so I could not resist taking the day off from work and playing some hooky.

The man standing with the white coat? Dr. Bombay, himself!

Louise Tate waving. And between the two? Tabitha herself, all grown up!

The statue unveiled with Elizabeth Montgomery's real life husband, William Asher, also producer of the show (sitting in chair) Tabitha, waving on left side. I'm sure she's waving at me.
Every good celebration always has it's protesters:



The protesters thought I was supporting them by taking their pictures. Little did they know I wanted to tell them to get a life. I didn't.
Every good Salem celebration also has witches:

and doggie witches:

~~~
I was such a fan of the show when I was a girl, that I wrote words to the theme music. Yes, that's right. You did not know I was so talented, eh? Do you remember the music? Go here if you need to remind yourself the tune. (scroll down to "hear the streaming audio syndicated version from the dick york black and white years") And then I'll teach you the words. Sandy style.
Okay, here goes. Remember, I was under 10 years old.
ahem~
Bewitched, Bewitched, Bewitch is a witch.
Bewitched, Bewitched, Bewitch is a witch.
Be-witch is a witch, aaaaaaaaaaaaa witch
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewitched!
See? I had talent from way back.

I leave you with the image you may see tonight on your local news. I probably will anyway!

knit flowers?

Look What I knit~

Sure! I knit a whole vaseload of peonies in the dim morning light. Sure.
So now you know how MUCh knitting I have done in the past 4 freaking hot days.
Zilch.
Still love me?
Why can't I decide how to SAY peony? Pee-OH-nee. Or PEE-ah-nee?!

Cat loves Cooking Show!

Fig seems to love to watch Semi Homemade Cooking with Sandra Lee (Food TV). I am hoping this means that I will be coming home to a homecooked meal soon. Perhaps he has plans for that noisy cardinal.
I'm left with the feeling that I wish I had used a flash. I have asked him to pose again for the shot, but he flat out refused. Look closely at the bottom of the picture and you'll see one enraptured cat.

Twitterpation

We have a

That sits outside Bethany's bedroom window singing (to me) the most beautiful song in the animal kingdom. He is loud and demands your attention. But he is alone. I believe he is crying out his call to be TWITTERPATED. Also check this page for an actual definition of twitterpated. Beauty IS in the eye of the beholder though because Bethany does not appreciate this bird announcing his love interest outside of her bedroom window when she is trying to sleep. Add in some noisy crows, a neighbors bird who has learned how to wolf whistle and it is a raucous cacophony in the mornings around here. Who needs the country? I've got all the nature noise I need!
Nothing, and I mean NOTHING could wake the college son, though. He would sleep if the house was torn off it's hinges in a tornado, waking in some foreign land. He would.
One might accuse me of being twitterpated with the creatures of the reef shawl. And one would be right.
Indulge me in a proud parent moment:
Look what the daughter got in an awards assembly. Never mind that we all TOTALLY FORGOT TO GO. I take partial blame for that incidence of child abuse. The rest of the family, including daughter herself could have done some remembering.

Aren't we Proud of our little Elizabeth?**
~~
Right. There is no new knitting to show you. I am busy with perusing websites trying to find the perfect yarn for the creatures of the reef shawl. Can you say obsessed?
AND. Could it BE any hotter? Ugh.
**
For the memory challenged, our daughter's name is NOT Elizabeth, but Bethany. But we do call her Elizabeth now. How could we not? She is an award winner!

Critters under my sea

I blame Theresa. I saw her edging to her shawl and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind since. I'm a knitter obsessed. Is it serendipitous that I live near the ocean and this shawl has ocean critters?
My credit card needs a bit of a respite but soon I will be ordering. Not soon enough.
Danged this living on a budget crap!
~~

Tiny little bee-like thing in the rhodendrum.
And since I love other people's flower pictures, Iris this.

Is my beard showing?
Iris is being gently windblown, by the way, which made a gentle fuzzy picture.
And because I feel a need to sing a song about the ocean and the creatures of the reef,
Just look at the world around you
Right here on the ocean floor
Such wonderful things surround you
What more is you lookin' for?

Alpaca, baby!

The arrival of summer weather means, for me, the start of small knitting. Small in size, not interest of course.
Without further ado, I present you with Summer Alpacas

I got your alpacas right here!
Look at the visual interest of this pattern! It goes on and on. First you see diamonds. Then bigger diamonds. Then even a quiltlike designe. I'm in love. Starry eyed in love. Or perhaps Diamond eyed in love is more like it!
This is Knit Picks Andean Treasure yarn 100% Baby Alpaca, Baby! Colors are moss and fog, by the way. In case that question is burning in your brain. Which I'm sure it was.
I have had this yarn languishing in the basket. Waiting for it's turn. I wonder now what took me.
A while back, I tried (and failed miserably, if you must know the end before the beginning) using this yarn for a mitten pattern with alot of KTOG's. This ended pretty quickly in MUCHO frustration. (I am now a bilingual blog) The yarn is splitty. As all good alpaca yarns are. This is best left to a basic cuff. No fancy smancy braids or curvy edges here.
So, when used for something that it is SUITED for, it is HEAVEN. Believe me. Please. And such wonderful colors.
But let's stop beating around the bush and state right out loud the REAL reason we love knitpicks yarn. THE PRICE. Or lack of it. Can you imagine? 50 grams of cloud 9 alpaca for $3.79 a ball? I believe a mucho (again, with the bilingual) grande sooper dooper hugmungo latte cappucoffee will cost you that. And that is gone in a minute. Or 20. And this? I will have these till I AM OLD. Or even older.
Life really IS good, is it not?
~~~~~~~
For those mildly curious, the pattern is from Nancy Bush's Knitting in Estonia. Specifically Helgi's mittens.
And don't you worry, summer of socks** is coming right up too. I feel it, well, right down to my toes. Where else?
~~~~~
**Added later: The phrase SUMMER OF SOCKS lovingly/shamelessly copied from Wendy's summer of lace

Ever the optimist

When I saw this

Black and white THINGS on my car all spring long, in case you are wondering
I thought it was the tree dropping spring type things on my car, even though that same tree never did that in the past 17 years of living with it.
When I saw this

Stunted leaves with conspicuous chew holes
I obliviously thought it was the cold spring making late leaves.
I can be optimistic no longer. I believe our tree has been infested with a pest. Possibly a cutworm which have been plaguing this area.
Poor tree.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled knitting blog for some party planning

I am going to tell you a secret and you must not tell. I trust you.
Raise your right hand and promise to stay mum.
We are planning a 50th wedding anniversary party for my in laws. We have the hall, the DJ, the general food ideas, the guest list, the honorees. What I do not have is the ideas for decorating the place. I know that there are some kind of traditional ideas for this kind of thing but for the life of me I cannot think of a ONE.
So, come on. Come out of your Saturday hibernation from blog commenting and take pity upon me. Give me some party planning ideas!
Please?

What a wonderful world

cocky
Pronunciation: 'kä-kE
Function: adjective
Inflected Form(s): cock·i·er; -est
: boldly or brashly self-confident
Cocky. As in "I don't need no stinking pattern. I've got the pattern up here!"
touching knitting needle to head for empahsis.

See towards the bottom of this Retro rib sock? All of a sudden the 4 stitch pattern takes on a new look. Let's just call that "A Sandy original" shall we? Because it is not being ripped out.
Mood Swings
The great thing about hitting rock bottom in the mood department is that there is nowhere to go but up. Let's list the positive, shall we?
The Official List
It's Friday
The sun IS shining
It is not freezing outside
There are flowers growing in my yard
Yes, some of them are weeds, but I shall now refer to them as WILDFLOWERS
The Tostitos and Salsa are gone. No more siren call for me
It is Friday. Worth mentioning again. Just to make sure you were paying attention
The song, What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong. Makes me happy thinking about it
Yarn (obvious, wasn't it?)
Beet greens in my local market
For that matter, fresh beets
(see? We don't need salsa and chips to be happy!?!)
Snail Trails

Oh, all right! Snails do not technically make me happy. Especially on my house. But they DO leave cool trails. I would trade all the snails in my yard for some yarn though, make me an offer.
And you.
Of course.

menagerie of topics

Lately I have been craving something to sink my needles into. Something satisfying. Challenging, even. Then I remembered a pattern I have had for quite some time in my TO DO pile. blue jeans purse from Cabin Fever.
Like a kid on Christmas morning, I couldn't wait to start. I picked out some cascade 220 in what I thought was EXACTLY what I wanted.
Now I'm not so sure I like the colors. What do you think?

There is something I do not like about it. Is it the white? Is it the gold? Is it the faint resemblance to Christmas colors? I was striving for autumn coloration. I am not sure I succeeded.
I am going to gaze at it awhile and see if I can put my finger on whether I should continue or not.
Out of Sorts!
I am. Out of sorts. I feel as if I'm running to catch up and failing miserably. At home. At work. In friendships. I feel as if things are slipping through my grasp and I can't catch any of it. I wonder why this feeling is so strong this spring? I know this will settle down but it is leaving me exhausted and sick of trying.
I'll be better soon. I plan to get to bed early and sleep it off. That should help.
Step away from the Tostitos!
Fricking tostitos. I cannot eat just one. Or one handful. These and salsa are my trigger food. I will eat them and eat them until either one is finally gone. Do you have those foods that you can't control yourself with? If I am ever with you, please do not leave me in a room alone with chips and salsa. You have been warned!
You must remember this:
Do you remember the star of bethlehem flower that was my Mother's day present? The weed? I have not planted it outside yet. But in one of those universe coincidences that mean something but I cannot figure out what THIS is what showed up in my yard this weekend. It was not planted here. It has never grown in my yarn for the 17 years that I have lived in this house. ADDED LATER:As Susanne pointed out to me, much to my amusement, a Freudian slip was had. Of course, I meant YARD, but wrote YARN. Never catching it once during editing. hee! Thanks, Susanne. Still cracks me up! So, I am leaving it where it landed. Correcting only in afterthought. :)

What does it mean??!