Everybody Loves Saturday Night

Props and many thanks to my mom, for giving me a gift certificate to Threadbear for Chanukkah. The envelope got here just in time for Chanukkah, and the yarn itself arrived yesterday! It was a mighty big order, but I'm only going to show you a bit at a time. First, I picked up several hanks of Cascade 128 Tweed in color 610 to make Banff. I wound up about half the hanks and immediately cast on for a sleeve:



This yarn is voluptuous, sultry, surprising. The colors of the tweedy parts are fantastic--including an olive green that I'm just in love with (the picture, per usual, doesn't do the colors justice--the yarn is not this dark). I'm concerned I didn't order enough yarn, though. The size I'm making calls for 770 yards of bulky yarn; I ordered 896 yards, and I have both stitch and row gauge with the recommended needles, but I'm not even halfway up the sleeve and I'm running out of yarn from the first hank. How is that possible? Unfortunately, I think I cleaned Threadbear out of this particular color/dye lot. I'm going to see how much yarn I use up for the sleeve--I may have to adjust the pattern for a slightly smaller size.

I also went ahead on the Cafe Bastille sleeves:



It's going fast, but it's hard to work with straight needles again.

Our plans for New Year's Eve are slowly coming into place. We've decided that we're going to a movie (maybe Big Fish--seems festive enough), and then...something somewhere. Neither one of us is feeling that great, unfortunately--it's like we're lobbing the same almost-cold back and forth, or at least pushing it towards each other like a bowl of Life cereal. We're not full-out sick, but we're not at full strength, either.

It's going to be an exciting day today. I'm going to go to the bank to deposit my last paycheck from New Jersey (I had a horrid dream last night that I registered for classes there), then to pick up my laundry, and then to pick up cat food and possibly to the post office. They've been holding a package that they should have redelivered by now--what's the point of filling out that "We Redeliver!" slip if they're going to ignore it? Will I be able to pick up the package without the slip? Can I get all of this done before it starts raining?

But best of all, tonight I am heading deep into the heart of Brooklyn, to knit with the divine Ms. Cari and Andrea, in Cari's new house. Woo!

It's amazing how little I have to say at this point. I haven't written anything here for a couple days so I feel obligated to pop in and say hi, but honestly...my life has been very slow, uneventful and sluggish of late.

The few exceptions: a surprise phone call from Rachael, as I was sitting around with the second Koigu sock (yeah, not knitting it, just sittin' around with it. Lord, I am imprecise with language today) and watching an ep of The Simpsons that I had most likely seen a gazillion times already. We talked about the past couple days--she spent a glorious holiday with her fam, I slugged out in my apartment and watched movies--and it was only after talking with her that I remembered: I have size 11 straight needles. The sleeves of Cafe Bastille are not worked in the round. I can work on the sleeves while waiting for the replacement needle and cable. I am an idiot.

On to yesterday: Mike and I wound up wandering from Tribeca to the Lower East Side, popping into the occasional odd shop. I bought six purple rose buttons that I'll use some day (this marks the first time I've added buttons to my stash. The only other time I've bought buttons I had a specific sweater for them). We wound up in the vicinity of Economy Candy on Rivington and...well...had to go in. Went slightly overboard on the mix 'n' match jellybeans ("OK, this bag is for beans flavored like fruity alcoholic drinks, and that bag is for beans flavored like various coffees"). Wound up at the Sunshine Cinema for a 5pm showing of Girl With a Pearl Earring. Solidly good movie. Like the book, I wasn't totally blown away by it, but I do think I am in love with Scarlett Johansson. The adaptation is good, the acting is fine, but the best things about the movie are the sets and cinematography--particularly the use of light. It's also a treat to watch a movie that just simply tells a story. The pacing is slow, looks are drawn out, sometimes nothing happens for a good minute or so--but again, in the age of action movies and jump cuts, it's a nice change. Besides, the slow pacing and long shots require the audience to pay attention, to look at what's going on the background...kinda like the way one looks at, you know, paintings.

I also put together Lazy Sunday, with help from Scout:



See? He's holding the sleeve in place while I sew up the shoulder seam.

I need to reblock the sweater before taking the live dancing picture of me in it (although with a sweater named Lazy Sunday I shouldn't be dancing in it) because somehow it's got Must-Have Bolero syndrome (inside joke--see Rachael's Must-Have Cardie story). I blocked it before I sewed it up and blocked it to huge proportions and it fits me, but it's not as big as I wanted it to be. It must be some kind of super stretchy yarn that just bounces back into place. Still, I'm moving it to the "finito" pile. So there.

I also finished the two gift scarves, which also need to be blocked--unfortunately, the whole "throw it in a bag" trick won't work for these. I feel a bit better about my "in progress" list now. Enough to start a whole new sweater once my yarn from Threadbear comes in (hopefully before Tuesday night!). Hee.

This one's for Rachael:

My poor students still need to face finals, but I'm done as of yesterday!

One of my students brought me a gift. A whole assortment of nuts (mmmmmmm...cashews) and candies (including what I think are little marzipan fruit candies? I have totally overdosed on them, whatever they are). He said, "This is from my parents, for putting up with me all semester." May I just say that this particular student was the sort of dream student every writing teacher hopes for? The one that actually learns stuff and applies it? It wasn't a bribe, I can assure you. Even so, I'm glad I told him he'd earned an A before he gave me the gift. The gift of nuts and candies. Isn't that sweet? And salty, too!

So, in addition to getting back to writing-work, I'm going to work on some online stuff. Adding some links to the blogroll (and feelin' the dilemma--do I remove the ones I'm not really reading as much?) Those of you who are doing the Manaic-al Legwarmer-a-thon, feel free to send me pictures of your work--remember, you gotta include at least one Flashdance/Maniac pose! (Footloose poses are also acceptable). I'm working on setting up a gallery through MSN Groups. Making Microsoft work for me. Huh.

My own legwarmers have stalled. It's just been too unwintery to justify working on them. I've been plugging away at the gift scarves--I thought I'd finished one in time, but when I looked at it again I realized it wasn't long enough to satisify me, perfectionist that I am. I've been working on the Pretty in Pink Koigu socks which have become never-ending. I worked up the geometric pattern part of the Vogue sweater and I can't decide if it's too small and needs to be redone or if I can stretch it out when I block it.

SLUMP!

Last night I wound up a hank of Mango Moon that I'd ordered from the T-boys months ago. This is beautiful silk yarn spun by women in Nepal* and I want to work with it but guess what? All of my circular needle cables are currently occupied! All of my other circs are in use (except for the missing 16" 8. I still can't find it). I guess this means I should finish something. Or...well, I guess I could put Cafe Bastille on holders until the replacement needle comes.

Just took a look at my "workin' it" list. I really should finish some stuff. I *still* haven't assembled Lazy Sunday (again, it's too damn WARM outside). Now that I've got some free time, I really have no excuse. It's time to prioritize! The socks need to come first (this will make their recipient happy). I'm also cooking up a little extra something to throw in the gift box that I hope she'll enjoy.

So, wouldn'tcha know, we're on Ernie alert. I don't know who came up with the Sesame Street Terror Alert buttons, but I've seen them on a number of blogs and they always make me laugh. Not that I'm trivializing the terror alert, but I have started referring to our nation's level of awareness in this way. "We're on Ernie alert. Nope, we've gone back to Bert Alert." I have more to say but it's all coming out jumbled and messy. It's just...what the hell does telling us we're on "orange alert" accomplish, exactly? What the hell does "be ready" mean? Haven't we all pretty much been ready for the last couple years?

I haven't gotten overtly political much on this blog. That might change over the next year. You've been warned.

* I just sent the company an email asking for more information about this relationship.

So we're fast approaching the fourth night of Chanukkah (yeah, I think that spelling is my favorite), but I'd promised a picture of the menorah on the first night, and here it is:



Like I said, I'm not the most religious person, but I love this Tree-of-Life menorah too much not to use it. I tried taking a picture with the lights out and no flash but they all came out fuzzy and dumb.

Presents were exchanged. Here's one of the gifts from Mike:



I can't tell you how exciting this is. Printed in 1945, this is the Pocket Book Complete collection of P.G. Wodehouse's Jeeves stories (many of which have been adapted for Masterpiece Theater and starring the immensely funny Hugh Laurie & Stephen Fry--oh, rent them if you've never seen them!). Mike said he found it in one of the bookstores on Bedford Ave months ago (seriously, this must have been October) and snatched it up because he knew I loved the stories but I didn't have any of them in print (a couple books on tape, yes). I love this book. The coolest thing about it, aside from the stories themselves, is the insert pleading with readers to conserve and recycle paper, from the U.S. Victory Waste Paper Campaign:

Paper packages medical and food supplies for liberated peoples, for the armies of occupation and for the fighting forces everywhere. Every article going overseas...each tiny surgical needle and instrument part...every tank or plane...is made, wrapped, or tagged with paper. Your waste paper is raw material for war paper.

How fabulous is that?* I love the image of a tank wrapped in paper. "Sarge, you got something in the mail. Gee Sarge, what do you suppose it is?" "Hmmm...it appears to be....tank shaped."

I haven't cracked the book open to read any of the stories yet. I'm afraid of ruining the spine and ripping the paper (precious, precious paper). But my heart thrills every time I see it. One of the best gifts ever.

Here's what Mike got:



I loved making this scarf. Even if I weren't using Noro for it, the short rows keep the garter stitch interesting enough. This particular scarf is 36 stitches wide, and I used almost an entire three skeins worth. It wound up having more drape than I thought it would (yay), and I got away with not blocking it. I don't know how, but somehow folding it up and leaving it in a bag for a month did the trick.

So, after a weekend of lying around, sniffling, coughing, knitting a little, watching TV, not going near the computer and not doing any grading of any sort, I now have half the final grades done, the short essay I wrote for Slant Review e-mailed off (hopefully by the deadline), the fridge partially restocked, and I'm slowing getting caught up on blog reading. Tomorrow is my last day at YC for the semester, and then, you know what time it will be?

Dissertation Time!

(No, not time to make the donuts. Tho' that ain't a bad idea.)

*Given, of course, that this is WWII, one of the "good wars."**
** Are these getting annoying yet?

I'm behind on everything. I'll be catching up today, and I'll put a longer post up later, complete with pictures.

Thanks for the Happy Chanukkah wishes!

Mwah!

I couldn't find them at first. Turns out they were in the box that houses the menorah I inherited from my grandmother (it's beautiful. I'll take a picture of it with the first night's candles when they're lit). Whew. I wasn't looking forward to taking a trip on the day of the first night to look for candles. Considering that I couldn't find a single store in my 'hood that sold Passover matzah, I knew I'd have to venture either into Manhattan or into the vast uncharted Hassidic territory of Williamsburg and neither one appeals to me right now.

When I announced that I was moving to this specific neighborhood, I got two reactions: people familiar with the area remarked, "Oh, Hipster Central." People familiar with the area 20-30 years ago said, "Oh, there's a large Jewish community there, right?" To both comments, I say "yes and no." Hipster Central is far from me (though it's been steadily creeping east, kudzu-style, ever since I moved). And the large Jewish community is ultra-orthodox (and not exactly in the same place as Hipster Central), as far from me religiously as you can get while still existing in the Jewish spectrum. One Jewish woman I met while I was still in Ohio told me that she'd grown up in Williamsburg, where the Orthodox women would walk up to any woman not "properly dressed" and cover her up. I can't imagine that happening today; today--as in the past, I'm sure--it's as if the ultra-Orthodox/Hassidic community and "everyone else" exist in different universes that just happen to occupy the same space.

But I found candles. I don't think I lit them last year. In the past, I've lit them on the first couple nights but then I'd forget (bad, bad Jew!) or I wouldn't light them because I was going out, or some such. But, you know, I've got the menorah, I've got the candles, I've got PRESENTS with MY NAME ON THEM--woo hoo! All I need is the latke recipe I can't seem to find.



It's time to get cracking on the Secret Cupid Exchange name-swapping. After much thought and discussion, I think it's best we do the name-drawing before the knitting. I've got a list of people who left comments expressing interest, but what I would like is for all interested parties to email me {click on the "email me" link to the left!} with necessary information:

1. Name/Addresses (home, email, and website)
2. Favorite colors (or conversely, colors to completely avoid--I find that easier to do myself)
3. Optional: head/shoe/hand size. This is not to make anyone feel obligated, it's a just in case type thing.

Does that sound OK to everyone? Have I left out anything?

I'm imposing a deadline on this: I should have everybody's information by the end of the month. I know Christmas is coming for all you Gentiles out there (heh) but seriously--it'll take five minutes to click on the "email me" link and type in your info. I'll check the list of emails against the list of those who initially said they were interested and if anyone from before is missing, I'll contact them. I'd like to do the name-drawing during the first week of January.

At the risk of coming across as too controlling, I'd like to make a few requests: first, if you're going to do this, you need to fully commit to it. I don't want anyone to be left hanging present-less. The gifts should be small, cheap, and quick so that they can go out in the mail no later than February 14 (seems appropriate enough, no?). Second, as I said before, you're going to be limited to $10 or under, if you must spend. This should be an excuse to use up stash yarn! I will leave it to your discretion whether using a $14.00 leftover ball of whatever is acceptable.

Third, and perhaps most importantly (and therefore the trickiest to word), I want to keep the exchange itself limited to the people who come here on a more or less regular basis and, perhaps, leave the occasional comment. I feel rather cliquish for saying that, but also completely in my rights. I wanted from the beginning to have this be an intimate swap with people I "know," the subsection of the virtual knitting community that I've come to love. What this means, at least to my mind, is that we all agree to keep discussion of this kinda hush-hush. No blazing buttons proudly proclaiming (a lot of alliteration...), no joyful, gleeful posts about the wee secret giftie in the making...sound fair? I'm open to suggestions.


I hit a landmark in Public Transportation last night: I got slept on. Mercifully, he smelled OK. It was a kid and I just kinda thought, "Oh, what the hell. Let him sleep."

I could've sworn, as my train sped past the 59th St. stop, that there was a woman standing on the platform in "I'm a Little Teapot" pose.

Return of the King is as glorious and majestic as it could possibly be. Halfway through the movie I thought, "Oh, crap, this is the last one! Does it have to end?"** I want to run right out and see it again. I want to talk all about it here but I don't want to spoil it for people who haven't seen it. So I only have a few things to say:

1. Eowyn rawks.

2. Sean Astin as Sam breaks my heart in all kinds of ways.

3. Both Bernard Hill (as Theoden) and Viggo (as himself) give the Henry V "St. Crispin" speech a run for its money. Karl Urban's (Eomer) "ride to ruin on the world's last day" bit wasn't bad, either. I'm so anti-war it hurts sometimes, but damned if I didn't get all choked up during these bits.

4. I continue to be amazed at the way everything came together for this trilogy. The right director, the perfect cast, the right time.

5. Deleted Saruman scenes had better be on the super-extendo DVD version, due to come out in 11 short months.

6. Saw a preview of the next Spiderman movie. Woooo!

I realized yesterday that there was no way in hell I was going to make it to the midnight showing. First off, I wasn't able to buy tickets online as I usually am. Second, since I fell asleep during Two Towers, I knew I was at risk for doing likewise--particularly since I wasn't feeling 100% yesterday (but guess what? I'm not sick!). Third, Mike wasn't totally up to it either. So we agreed to go see it today, early in the day, and make a complete excursion of it, because lo! Guess what's just down the street from the Union Square theater?

Knit New York!

Disclaimer: I am fairly easy to please. I really like this place, though. First of all, the coffee is excellent--if you like your coffee organic and very strong, as I do. As soon as I walked in, the man behind the counter gave me a purchase punch card (and I found out later that coffee + chocolate-filled croissant = two punches). They have sandwiches, too, but I didn't get one. The special of the day was buy a sandwich, get a free cookie. My kind of deal. Plenty of seats, but then, I was there on a Wednesday. I guess it got pretty crowded there over the weekend. They're open from 7am - 9pm during the week, though--one of the perks of having a yarn store combined with a coffee shop--coffee hours triumph. And, in fact, the store is right across the street from the Eye/Ear Infirmary, and the coffee counter saw a lot of business while I was there. Bottom line: even if I didn't knit, I would go there for the coffee and pastries. And then I'd probably wind up learning how to knit.

On to more important things: the yarn. First of all, I love the layout of the place--it makes excellent use of limited space. Single sample balls/skeins are arranged along the walls, some of which (or maybe all?) pull out to reveal closet shelves where more bags of that yarn live. Even more yarn is in the back. It's like a shoe store where you pick up the model and ask, "do you have this in an 8?" So everything stays neat, yarn doesn't get all mixed up. I wish they'd had all the yarn from one company together--that's my one nitpicky complaint. The Big Kureyon (yes, I got to see it live, and now I know what to order from Threadbear!) was across the room from the regular Kureyon and the Silk Garden. Debbie Bliss was scattered, as was Rowan. It's a small thing, one which may be changed when they're more settled--and to be fair, the Rowan Biggie was with other chunky/bulky yarns...maybe they're going for gauge?

Nice variety of yarns. It seemed heavy on the cashmere--or maybe it just seemed that way to me because I want some. Hand dyed cashmere, in glorious colors...couldn't get myself to shell out the bucks for that. I could only afford to make scarves, and I'm a bit off scarves right now. Of course, I did wind up buying some Trendsetter Dune for, yeah, a scarf for a friend, but that should go quickly. A nice mix of novelty yarns and ... what's the opposite of novelty yarn? Unfunny yarn? Serious yarn? They had a scrumptious bulky forest green tweed from a company whose name escapes me (wasn't familiar to begin with) that I thought about for Banff (from the most recent Knitty)--you can never have too many Lazy Sunday sweaters--but opted instead to get yarn for that from Threadbear as well--there are some Cascade Bulky Tweed colors I've been eyeing that I hope they have. KNY also had a Gedifra yarn that I was unfamiliar with--bulky, with a touch like that of polarfleece, but bordered on one side with gold thread. Would make a pretty scarf. I am inordinately attracted to scarf yarn and yet I do not wear scarves all that often and, as I've said, I'm starting to find them a bit tedious. Maybe it's just a slump.

The bigger purchase came in the form of delectable Manos.*** I'd seen an incredible, perfect-for-me colorway on Theresa's blog and had put out a feeler for some, but I'd been warned that supplies in Columbus were limited...I immediately spotted the same colorway at KNY, saw two nearby hanks in red and green tones**** and made up the beginnings of a sweater pattern that I'm very excited about. For when the present knitting and the Vogue sweaters are done. Yeah.

You know that feeling, that panicky feeling that you're going to run out of projects? That "I'm almost done with that sweater...then what I am I going to start?" thought--even though "that sweater" is one of FOUR that you're working on? Sooner or later they're all going to be done, and then what are you going to do? I think I've stumbled upon the psychology of the stash.

The women working there were very nice--once they realized that I wasn't just looking, after I'd been there for a good 20-30 minutes browsing, touching, playing with different color combinations. Most of the time they were working on unpacking boxes and setting things up, and when other people walked in (about four or five while I was there) they either took a brief look around and left, or had a specific question about classes or books. Most people who walked in wanted to learn how to either knit or crochet. So, a little aloof, I'd say, but once we started getting SERIOUS about yarn it was all good. The one thing I could see other people a little disappointed by is that I had to wind my own yarn. The other places I've been to in the city will do it for you. I was a little taken aback, but I was more grateful that I had the chance to get it wound up at all. A swift is on my wish list, that's for danged sure, but I don't have one yet.

The stools full of yarn? Incredibly cute and color coordinated but alas, the yarn is just for show. You can't get to it. I'm sticking to my belief that it's intended as metaphor.

The guy behind the coffee counter is learning to knit. (Aw)esome.

Oh, and the yarn shop also has a punch card of sorts: spend $200 and your next purchase is 10% off. Not a whole hell of a lot of return for the investment (oy, the tax in this city is going to kill me), but I'd use it for a hank or two of "the good stuff." I think the owner of this place needs to understand that the competition isn't coming from other yarn shops in NYC--it's coming from online.

All things considered, this is a place I can totally see hanging out in, which puts it slightly above the other places I've been to. I can see the bulk of my yarn purchases over the next year coming from Threadbear (especially considering the budget I'll be on), with the occasional trip to KNY for when I need to SEE and TOUCH the yarn. Or, in the case of the Manos***, when I have to have it NOW.


* Of all the Schoolhouse Rocks songs, I think this one is tied with "Sufferin' til Sufferage."
** Far be it from me to start or further any rumors...oh, what the hell am I talking about. Rumor has it that a Jackson/Walsh/Boyens-helmed Hobbit movie is currently being discussed. On the one hand, yahoo! On the other hand, why not move on? But if it's going to be done, they're the ones to do it.
*** I cannot hear nor write nor say that word without immediately following it up with "The Hands of Fate." MST3K fans, you know what I'm sayin'.
**** The irony escapes me not.

I'm NOT.

I spent much of the weekend avoiding work or exertion of any kind, which meant that yesterday was my big day o' grading. Third paper in...plagiarized. I'm not exactly sure what tipped me off--this is a student who is a decent writer, but something about the phrasing made me think about checking. So I went online and fed a phrase to Google and sure enough, a site on Sparks came up (Sparks is like Cliff's Notes). Just a couple sentences here and there, with some of the words changed but the basic structure intact. All things considered, a minor violation--it's not like he ripped off an entire paper . On a whim, I typed another phrase in...and got a different site, and this time entire sentences were ripped off. I have to report this to the Dean, and I am just pissed off about it. It's the end of the semester. He's earning at least an A- without this. He either doesn't know that this is wrong or thought he could get away with it. Because of my course policy, he gets a chance to revise, but I have to incorporate the penalty to his grade, so there goes his A. It also makes me suspect the rest of his writing. Then I have to report it to the Dean, write a letter, suggest appropriate punishment...I don't need this. I'm not up to the confrontation today. It's been a couple months since we've gone over appropriate forms of borrowing from sources, not in great detail, but we definitely went over it, and to the best of my knowledge no one else has plagiarized--or at least, they're smarter about it and don't go to online sites.

I hate feeling like a chump.

I came across a bit of writing last night that I want to share with all the other knitters/writers out there. It's from Adam Gopnik's Paris to the Moon. Gopnik moved to Paris with his family back in the mid 90s, and the book is a collection of observational essays. It's broken into four main sections, and at the end of each section is a "Christmas Journal"; these are more introspective and fragmented--yet they usually all come together at the end. Last night I was reading the journal essay primarily concerning leçons des choses, or lessons from things. He writes about the zen of cooking, how cooking is the transformation of "stuff into things," and then begins this paragraph:

The absence of stuff may be what makes writing so depressing and cooking so inviting to the writer. (To the yuppie-family-guy writer anyway. It used to be not cooking but its happy, feckless near relation drinking that writers looked forward to at twilght. Perhaps for the same reason; it gives you something to do with your hands at six o'clock other than typing.) Writing isn't the transformation of stuff into things. It is just the transformation of symbols into other symbols, as if one read recipes out loud for dinner, changing the proportions ("I'm adding fifty goddamn grams of butter!") for dramatic effect. You read out the recipe and the audience listens, and pretends to taste [...] Sometimes, if you change the proportions dramatically enough--nothing but butter! no butter at all!--the people listening gasp, as though they really could taste it. (This is the way Burroughs and Bukowski write.) Fortunately they never have to. Writing is a business of saying things about stuff and saying things about things and then pretending that you have cooked one into the other.

[for this next part, substitute "yarn" for "art supply," "knitters" for "artists," "Rowan wool cotton" for "Ingres paper," "Noro Silk Garden" for "oil pastels"...you get the idea]

This may be why I like this year to take a fundamental leçon des choses by going up to Sennelier, the beautiful art supply store and the quai Voltaire, and just buying some stuff that artists use to make things. Ingres paper, or oil pastels, or just a carnet, a notebook. How can artists ever make anything ugly at all? you wonder; just a black mark on thick white paper is so beautiful. I feel serene surrounded by paper [yarn], having learned that things give lessons enough.

Enjoy your day (and read this book).

Just a quick follow-up to Bobita's question/J Strizzy's answer: There are times when I answer the "what are you doing for Christmas?" question with "I'm Jewish," and then I realize that they're not asking if I celebrate Christmas, they're asking what I'm doing. So if I answer "I'm going to rent a bunch of videos" (which is, if I'm alone, which I will be this year, exactly what I'm going to do, except I may go out to a movie as well), the question was supposed to have been interpreted, "how do you celebrate Christmas?" I'm suddenly reminded of a friend of mine in college, born to Korean parents, who was forever trying to interpret the "where are you from" question correctly. If she answered "Milwaukee," the person asking meant her ancestry (or, perhaps, that her skin color indicated to that person that my friend couldn't possibly have been born in this country), and if she answered "Korea," the person asking meant "where were you born?" OK, it's not the same situation at all. Never mind.

Like Joanna, I'm not always interested in getting into a discussion of religion, and also like her, I want to disrupt the idea that there are only two religions (when I went to the post office last week I got into a lovely conversation with the Hindi woman behind the counter about this very thing). I guess that is a political stance, but not one that's against Christmas, at least not for me.

I'll say again that most people get it. I'm targeting the couple handfuls of times when they haven't because...it makes for better writing. Heh.

Some knitting content:



This is the first sleeve of my new sweater--the one I'm going to work on until I get my replacement Boye needles (Amber, thank you so much for your offer--I'd already sent out the replacement form!) Colors are slightly brighter in the picture, and the contrast between the raspberry and the bordeaux looks more pronounced in the picture than I think it does in real life. Oh, and the whole sleeve is done now. It went fast!

A note about the yarn I'm using. The Orchid Line Soft Spun is 70% wool, 25% mohair and 5% silk. The yardage is good: 245 for an $8.00 skein, and it took less than one skein to do the sleeve, in the largest size. I'm going to have a ton of this left over! The yarn is a little scratchy but I believe with washing the sweater will be one of the softest items of clothing I will ever own, and the drape is wonderful. I'd say that this yarn is a decent substitute for the Baabajoe's called for in the pattern. I do have two complaints about the yarn: first, it's very fragile. Once knitted, it's fine--but it's very easy to break the yarn. Second, there's a lot of "vegetation" stuck in the yarn, and pulling it out is tricky because the yarn is fragile.

A couple notes on the pattern. One of the reasons I said, a few days ago, "Why do I want to knit this?" is because once again, it calls for two-color flat knitting, and purling with two colors is one of my least favorite knitting activities. Not only that, but the way the colors are combined is rather insane. To wit: the pattern calls for me to cast on in color A, and then purl two rows, purl two rows with color B, then purl two more rows with color A. I am to start the geometric design then on row 2, which is designated in the pattern as the right side of the work. Um, no. Because if I started the design on that side, the rows I just purled look like this:



Clearly, the wrong side. Should I have cast on a different way? It still would have led to a clear right and clear wrong side with the purling, wouldn't it have? There wouldn't be that problem if I were knitting every row, which would lead to a slightly different look--but one that would still give the desired effect, I think. My solution: I started the design on row 1, which is a single row of color A, which essentially meant that I purled an extra row of A.

Next issue: There are a couple times in the pattern in which I am called to knit one row of color A, followed by one purled row of color B (or vice versa). Assume that both strands are on, say, the right-hand side of the piece. I knit with color A, turn the work to purl with color B...and it's on the opposite side of the piece than where I need it to be. I thought of a couple ways to deal with this (being the novice two-color knitter that I am). I could pick up a new skein of color B and purl back with that. In fact, I did that with the first swatch I made so that I wouldn't have to break any of the yarn. You know what happens with that solution, however: lots of ends to weave in later. I'm not having any of that, thank you very much. What I did instead was simply not turn my work and knit across with color B, so that when I started the next purl row in which both colors were required, they were both on the same side. I hope that makes sense. I could take step-by-step pictures if that would help. I guess this is a little like mosaic knitting? I wish I could use that technique for this sweater, but there are too many large blocks of color in the design for it to really work.

The third and final issue, thus far: not so much an issue with the pattern as it is a change in design that I wanted to make. The cable pattern calls for both cable twist borders to be left twists. I don't get that. Note in the picture below that we can't see the other side of the sweater to see how two left twists turns out. Coincidence? I think not. I like the mirror effect that twist borders have when one is a left twist and one is a right twist, so I changed the other one to be a right twist. It's just a matter of holding the stitches in the back instead of the front. I wrote "RC" in big letters at the top of the chart (which I had to scan in and blow up so I wouldn't go blind trying to read it) so I wouldn't forget.

Oh, yeah. Speaking of cabling...don't tell my mom, but I'm using a cable needle with this sweater. The yarn is not as easy to manipulate as Lamb's Pride Bulky is and I'm too afraid of breaking it.

Oh, wait--one more issue! The geometric part specifically mentions using selvage stitches. The cable design does not. It's my understanding that inconsistency in selvage stitches leads to messy seams, so I'm continuing the one-stitch garter selvage that I began in the two-color part. Now--the sweater is beautiful and I'm having an enjoyable time knitting it, but I am not impressed with the way the pattern is written. Interweave Knits does a much better job creating readable charts (to my eyes, anyway) and specifying cast-on/increase/decrease techniques. I've come to the conclusion that Vogue's schematic of "beginner," "intermediate" and "experienced" is not so much about the level of knitting required but rather the amount of experience one has in interpreting what is called for.

I'm going to do the second sleeve flat, but I would like to do the body in one piece up to the armhole shaping. Both sides are the same, with waist shaping. Is converting flat knitting to circular knitting a simple matter of knitting both front and back together, removing any selvage stitches from the total number? I'll look for info on the web/go to my yarn store, but if anyone reading has experience converting flat to circular and has advice, I'm all ears.

J Strizzy's post about Christmas decorations and spirit got me thinking about how I feel about experiencing Christmas as a Jew. A secular Jew, or "cultural Jew" if you will--that is, not one who goes to temple regularly or one who participates in the celebration of all the holidays--but a relative outsider to the whole Christianity thing nonetheless.*

Although I believe that it's fairly difficult for any non-Christian to be an outsider to Christianity in the United States. Especially at this time of year, when all the holiday decorations go up and all the holiday songs play ad nauseum.

They're not frequent, but I do have slightly bitter moments about this. I would just like to point out that "holiday" is a generic, all-inclusive term and yet most "Happy Holidays" cards are decked out in Christmassy reds and greens, as are most city street decorations, and all the songs are about Christmas (not including the songs that fall into the "Winter Wonderland" category).** It bugs me when Hannukah starts and the local news programs devote an entire story to it, putting Jews on display as some sort of curiosity. Yes, I want more people to understand the holiday, but the news inevitably treats the subject rather reductively. And yes, I understand that the local news leaves a lot to be desired in any subject and I shouldn't expect anything deep or thorough, and I always have the option of not watching. Which I don't. So there.

This gets old, fast: when people ask how I plan on spending my Christmas, I tell them I don't celebrate Christmas, and they look at me like it's 1952 and I'm in front of the HUAC committee (I'm a little fuzzy on the dates for that). It honestly doesn't matter that we're talking essentially about a pagan holiday that got co-opted by the Church. This doesn't happen often here in New York, which I consider another perk of living here. Most people get it here. Not all of them--there are still people who accept the information that I am Jewish and therefore celebrate Hannukah, and then immediately ask, "So you don't celebrate Christmas at all, then?" in a sort of pitying tone, as if I am truly deprived and worthy of charity. To them, I repeat: it's impossible to escape Christmas. To some extent, I celebrate the holiday just by existing in a place where the majority of people observe the holiday, either on a religious, cultural, or material level.

With that in mind, here are some things that I appreciate and enjoy about Christmas. They are in no particular order, and most of them are specific to Christmas in New York:

1. A Charlie Brown Christmas.

2. In New York City, I am not as frequently subjected to really tacky home decorating. Most people here only have a window or two that looks out onto the street, and so entire apartment complexes wind up looking like towering, twinkling gingerbread houses. That's pretty cool. People who have some sort of tree growing in their sort of yard will string lights around it (for Halloween one household strung orange, yellow and white lights around their smallish pine tree and made it look like a piece of candy corn). It's pretty, festive, and not at all overdone.

3. This city understands better than any other city the material aspects of the holiday, and acts accordingly. No pretense, no false piety, just "It's time to buy stuff. We'll make it real easy for you by setting up incredible window displays to intice you into our stores."

4. The food. Specifically, the candy. I know you can get those chocolate orange thingies any time of year now, but they appear en masse at this time of year and oh, I love them so.

5. The smells. I realized this last night. I love walking down the street and encountering a Christmas tree vendor and, for those brief seconds, the strongest smell of pine mingling with outdoor air...it's heavenly. I also love the fact that they all sell studio apartment-appropriate trees. They remind me of Charlie Brown's tree (see #1).

6. Speaking of trees...OK. I love the trees. I love decorating the trees. When I was a kid, I used to go over to Colleen's house to help them decorate their tree. Last year she called me up to invite me to do the same, with her cute little studio apartment-sized tree. I don't know what it is, unless it has something to do with experiencing something so totally out of my usual realm of experience, but it's something that I really enjoy.

7. The handful of times I have gone to someone's house to join in their Christmas celebrations, it has been truly enjoyable (OK, save for that one time that I was really put on the spot as the token Jew, not to explain my own personal experience, but the experience of an entire people). I am touched when families take the time to make me feel included, like by giving me my own stocking to hang up. I don't know if it's hypocritical or inconsistent to not like a lot of aspects of the holiday and yet feel sincerely appreciative when I do participate in it...maybe I'm making a distinction between the abstract and the concrete. Or maybe it's that when I have celebrated the holiday with other families, the focus has pretty much been on the food and the presents, and who can argue with that?

8. A Christmas Story. "It says 'Fra-jeel-ay.' Must be Italian."

9. On Christmas Day, it's really, really, really quiet around here.

Like J Strizzy, I'm not trying to Scrooge it up (anyone familiar with the speculation that Scrooge was supposed to be Jewish? If I recall, there's not much evidence--if at all--to back it up, and the accusation is meant as further support for the general claim that Dickens was anti-Semitic, an accusation for which I have no opinion). And like her, much of this post is rooted in childhood memories of public school arts & crafts projects and bearing the taunts of my peers (if you have seen that South Park episode featuring the "Lonely Jew" song, you'll know what I'm talking about when I say that third grade was EXACTLY LIKE THAT for me). I'm not trying to be bitter or querulous--just giving voice to thoughts that have been in my head for a few days.

* I went to see The Barbarian Invasions/Les Invasions Barbares last night--which I enjoyed immensely--and there's a brief little scene in which a Sister/Nurse in a hospital goes to take out communion wafers to give to the patients, and it took me a minute to figure out what that was all about. That I was able to figure it out on my own and yet still find myself having to explain menorahs, matzo and yarmulkes says something.

** On the other hand, I'd rather not have the Dreidl song included in the 24/7 stream of holiday songs, nor do I think that Adam Sandler's "Hannukah Song" should be representative (funny though it may be). Again, I'm probably engaging in "I want it both ways" behavior. Or rather, "I want it done MY way, dammit." Because if you haven't figured it out yet, I am always right. Always.

My last day in New Jersey could not have gone smoother. All transportation lined up and coordinated just for me. The L was not terribly crowded. The PATH QuickCard machine accepted my money. The #10 bus only sat in the terminal for five minutes before pulling up to accept passengers, instead of the 10-15 minutes it usually waits.

My grade rosters were already in my mailbox when I got to campus. I had expected them not to be, as Monday was the first day of exams and it would be typical for the people in charge of the rosters to not have their act together in time. I had prepared myself for a steely conversation with the Grade Roster People, in which they would feign ignorance and I would be screwed. That it didn't go down that way still leaves me in a state of wonder.

The exam packets were also ready for me to pick up. I brought them back to the faculty lounge where, along with another adjunct teaching the same course, I began filling out the grade roster and information sheet. I got to list the students I think are prepared to go on to the next level of college composition, so that if the Grade Committee doesn't approve their exam, the students will be contacted for a retest. I listed almost every student, all except the three that are still struggling with basic principles of the language.

There was a moment of panic when I read the instructions for giving the exam and turning all the material in, and got to this line: "You must deliver students' portfolios to the Open Writing Lab when you return the completed tests." Whaa? My sister adjunct and I looked at each other. "Do you recall ever hearing anything about portfolios?" I asked. "Nope," she responded. "Well, then...fuck it," I decided (if you will recall, this has been my Standard Decision for all things relating to this school). When I flipped over to the second page of instructions (seriously--all this for giving one friggin' exam), I noted that "portfolios" were mentioned once again, this time solely in conjunction with a special version of College Writing that neither one of us were teaching. So much for that. Never mind that the Grade Information Sheet was from last year, before they made the shift from Pass/Repeat to letter grades for the class.

{at some point during this process of filling out the sheets and grumbling about miscommunications, a new person came into the lounge to fill out employment forms--my replacement, perhaps? She kept looking over at us with interest. Better that she know what she's getting into, I think. Godspeed, new part-time instructor. Godspeed.}

I looked at the questions my students had to choose from and was delighted to see that one of the questions was quite similar to one of our practice exam questions, which we had coincidentally gone over step by step in class (from brainstorming to organizing to writing the introduction). Strangely enough, only one of my students actually wrote a response to that question. Most of them went with the first question on the list, although whether that's because they wanted to write about whether Bush should pull troops out of Iraq or whether it was the first question, I don't know. I was pleased to see that they were taking the exam very seriously, and some of them were even writing at a better level than they had been all semester (ok, that was slightly irritating, to be honest). Most of them took almost the whole two hours (instead of the 45 minutes they used during our practice exams, just so they could get out of class), and used the proofreading strategies I had given them the week before (e.g., take a blank sheet of paper and put it over your paper, and move down line by line to look for typos and errors)--that was gratifying. Must try that with other students.*

And just like that, it was over. As she was getting her stuff together, a student asked, "So after this, we don't see you no more?" Yeah, just like that. The Composition Instruction/Grammar Avenger in me cringed, but the part of me that understands the shift that many people make on a daily basis between Standard English and whatever version of non-Standard English they use just rolled with the punches. It's not like I use proper speech all the time either. I mean, who does? There are times when a double negative is necessary--as when I dubbed Monday's Happy Dance the "I Don't Gotta Go Back to Jersey City No Mo'" dance.** Besides, like I'm going to correct a student after she's just gone through the exam and is feeling vulnerable about passing? I think not.

* Yesterday I handed papers back to my Washington Heights students. Instead of circling or correcting errors--the same errors they make on every paper--I decided to just place Xs by the lines that contained the errors, forcing them to figure out what needs correcting, and how to correct it. They grumbled, but I like to think that it was good-natured grumbling, the kind one generally produces out of guilt. My response, palms up and arms outstretched: "How else will you ever learn?" {Grammar Avenger, in superhero stance, cape billowing out behind her: "Correct your mistakes, or feel my wrath!"} A student stayed behind to go over each of his Xs: "wait, what's wrong with this sentence?" He looks at it, then reads it out loud...and finds the "the" that should have been "they." And they scoffed when I suggested reading papers out loud during peer review workshop days. I shall be avenged.

** The House Re-mix is AWESOME.

Real quick, cuz I gotta bathe and hit the subway (I just realized that those things ought to be in reverse order, but waddaya gon' do, right?). Longer post to follow, in which I regale you with my Last Day in NJ AND Michelle's Nights at the Theatre tales.

Those of you with the luxury of cable, it is a moral imperative that you watch VH1 All Access: Awesomely Bad Videos. Therein you will catch a glimpse of my bestest bud trading off snarky bon mots with other local/national celebs.

For times, go here.

You'd think that anything with Bastille in the title would be...I don't know...liberating.

I have a Boye Needlemaster set. I like it. I don't mind when the connection between needle and cable becomes loose; I can feel it start to happen and I just tighten it up. This doesn't happen often, mind you. For some reason, however, it has happened three times on the Cafe Bastille sweater. Perhaps it's because I'm knitting so fast that the needles are coming loose from the momentum. I highly doubt that it's because I'm not using a cable needle.

The needles happened to become loose on Friday. I took out the grip pad that comes with the Needlemaster set and began to tighten them up, and...one of them SNAPPED OFF. Taking part of the cable with it.

Fortunately, I can order replacement parts.

Unfortunately, it's going to take 4-6 weeks for them to get here.

So my weekend was pretty much marked by an inward temper tantrum in which I didn't feel like knitting ANYTHING, since I couldn't knit what I WANTED to.

I thought maybe I would start making a pair of socks for myself. I picked out one of the balls of Opal I just received from Threadbear (Lollipop #1012--far more pastel than it looks on my monitor, but we'll see...), pulled out a huge barf glob of yarn as I looked for the end, and then thought, "why did I want to make more socks?" Back into the stash it went.

Then I thought maybe starting a new sweater would help.

      from Vogue Fall 2002 (Anniversary Issue).


I looked at the pattern and thought, "why did I want to make this again?" The charts couldn't be more confusing or hard to read. I looked again at the measurements and the largest size is still going to be cutting it close--and I can't remember if I was delusional and got the yarn for a medium or if I was feeling realistic and bought enough for the large. The colors I got--a deep burgundy and deep magenta, both Harrisville Soft Spun, a wool/mohair/silk blend--are gorgeous together and I think the finished result will look great--provided it fits. So I swatched, and my gauge was way off. I ripped it out and I haven't gotten a chance to reswatch. So yeah...that didn't help.

{just realized...I bought enough yarn to make the scarf, and I'm not going to make the scarf. I've got enough yarn, then.}

So I graded papers instead, since I really needed that feeling of accomplishment for SOMETHING. I didn't get all that far into the pile, but I did get the final grades tallied for my New Jersey students.

I've been thinking that a good companion to the 80s song lyrics quiz would be a 80s movie quotes quiz. Last night, Mike and I watched Out of Sight, and every time I see Albert Brooks in a movie I immediately think of his Broadcast News character. It was all I could do, the first time I saw Finding Nemo, to not blurt out "A lot of alliteration from anxious anchors placed in powerful posts!"

Out of Sight, for those of you who haven't seen it, is a fantastic movie. Yes, Jennifer Lopez is in it. And she's good. No, I'm not delirious. It's the Soderbergh Factor (cf. Erin Brockovich). That and the script is so excellent that it would be incredibly hard for anyone to mess it up. This was the movie that turned me around on George Clooney as well. Woof.

Next up on the movie viewing block: The Manchurian Candidate. I've never seen it. Did you hear they're remaking it? I believe Meryl Streep is playing the mother.

Speaking of Meryl Streep, Angels in America is going to start on Sunday on HBO (Streep plays multiple roles, including Ethel Rosenberg). Word on the street is that it's going to be incredible. I hope it is. I'm going nuts with anticipation, and I don't have cable.

I've been avoiding talking about knitting because...you know that saying, something about "pride" followed by something about a "fall"? Cafe Bastille is the first sweater I've knit that had a more intricate pattern of cables than a simple "left twist" (ala Lazy Sunday, which I am putting together THIS WEEKEND, because I can't stand not having it anymore). I started knitting with a cable needle and, as many of you have done before me, quickly abandoned it for the no cable needle method.

Mom: What you need is a cable hook, so the stitches don't slide off.
Me: It's really a lot faster and easier this way.
Mom: I'm going to get you a cable hook anyway.
Me: I don't need a cable hook.
Mom: OK, fine, have it your way.
Me [slightly bratty]: OK, fine, I will.
Mom [maintaining her title of Queen of Having the Last Word]: Fine. I still think you could use a cable hook.

I realize that the cable patterns for Cafe Bastille are not as complicated as other cable patterns, but it's still my first time following a chart, and my first time having to figure out when to do the twists for three different sets of cables--the trellis is a 16 row repeat, while the two twists are six rows. Instead of using two counters (since I only have two counters and the other one is currently tied up with Purple Rain, which I've been working on a few rows at a time, still on the front piece, almost done...maybe I'll work on that today?), I did the math and wrote down by each pattern the row number for each twist. Totally simple to follow, and I was just cruising along with that bulky yarn and those thick needles. I managed to get a decent picture of it when I measured it a couple nights ago:



This is about 11.5 inches; I have two more to go before I can start the armhole shaping. I worked on it last night, confident that I would get to the armhole shaping by the end of Survivor (I thought fish was supposed to be brain food. It's all they've been eating for the past month and I have never seen a stupider bunch of people. "Oh, sure, Jon's lied consistently throughout the entire game and we have total proof of that, but maybe he's telling the truth this time." Ugh). I hummed along cheerily, thinking "this isn't hard at all! I am a cable whiz! This is going to be done within two weeks! I RULE!"

Half an hour later, I discovered that I had missed a twist. Or rather, I had twisted two rows after I should have. I didn't write the rows down wrong or anything, I just wasn't paying attention. Too caught up in self-admiration. Gah! Fortunately, I don't have to frog too many rows.

It's pretty, though, don't you think? When it's blocked, the moss stitch sides are stretched down to meet the cabled front, so that the shirt-tail effect goes away.

So now I'm at the point where I have too many projects that I want to work on at once. I want to finish the legwarmers because it's COLD outside.

And it's SNOWING!! This is not the first snowfall of the season, however. It snowed on Tuesday morning as I left for the subway to take me to Washington Heights. That snowfall was kinda crappy--it was sunny, yet there was a huge dark grey cloud...it was cartoon-like, actually. The snow wasn't coming down very hard and it wasn't nice fluffy wet snow, either. Here's the kicker--my subway commute to Washington Heights takes about an hour. By the time I exited the subway station at 181st, it had stopped snowing, but apparently there had been a mini-blizzard while I was underground. The cars I walked by were covered in snow. It was a bit surreal.

But today...today it's a real snowfall. It's very pretty. Ah...you can take the girl out of Minnesota...

It's taking forever for pictures to download. They're not even that big. Blast this modem connection. I got spoiled at my aunt and uncle's, with their fancy-schmancy cable modem.

So, eventually, those of you who share my modem woes, you'll see the legwarmer knitalong button that Becky made (thanks, Becky!). If you use it, please follow SNP (Standard Netiquette Procedure), and save it to your own server, etc.

Yesterday I received the latest in a series of wildly incomprehensible memos about end-of-semester procedures for the class I teach in NJ. For the entire semester, I had been operating under the assumption that I needed to meet with my class at least once during exam week, which is two weeks away. I had arranged for my students to have a portfolio of their written work due on that day. It was going to be worth 200 points, a significant percentage of their final grade. I had planned on going in on Wednesday the 17th to meet them and collect portfolios, and then grade them all there, leave, and never ever go back. Yesterday's memo indicated that I am to submit the grades for the class along with the completed exams to the Grading Committee responsible for determining who lives and who dies (or rather, who passes the course and who gets kicked out of school). The exam is scheduled for next Monday. That means my grades are due next Monday. Are you following this? What's the point of continuing to meet with students and having them work if their grades are already in? That was my breaking point. Not in terms of stress--no, this was a liberating breaking point, in which I made a grand dismissive gesture and announced, "OK then, I'm DONE on Monday." No more class, no portfolio, and their last paper is due tomorrow rather than next Monday, so I can grade them and submit the final grades. What this means is I have two more classes, and only one for which I need to prepare.

This also means that I can attend the midnight viewing of Return of the King on the 17th.

Yes, I did think those thoughts in that order.

I am, otherwise, still buried under student papers. I knew that I wouldn't get much done over Thanksgiving break, and my students are just going to have to deal with not getting their papers back within a week. I deserved that break just as much as they did.

We've entered the Age of Static, my friends. The time of year when stroking a cat can be treacherous, and flicking a light switch can be deadly.

Ah, but Thanksgiving dinner was lovely. So good, we had it twice (and, I would imagine, my family is still eating leftovers today)! The Celebration Roast was indeed awesome. It had a nice peppery kick to it and was dense enough to mimic the texture of turkey. I recommend it. My aunt said she got it at Whole Foods, if anyone lives near one of those. I'll be checking the stores around here as well.

I also had no need to fear a shortage of wild rice. Yes, I do have the recipe for it, it's easy to make and I could make it any time. It's such a Thanksgiving thing, though, that it's weird to think about having it any other time.

We wound up not seeing a movie on Friday at all, but staying in and watching videos. This was a classic case of me being too lazy and unwilling to change out of my pajamas to go out in the cold and see a movie that I wasn't incredibly excited to see in the first place. I had also started a new sweater--Cafe Bastille from Interweave Fall '03--and I wanted to keep going on it. I'm using Lamb's Pride Bulky in Oregano--this fantastic olive green color that shows the cables off very nicely. I'm relatively new to cable-making and the trellis cable in the middle of the sweater is really addictive. I don't particularly like knitting moss stitch but I do love the way it looks against the cables. And I love that the body of the sweater is worked in the round until the armholes. I'm about three inches away from that point. It's a difficult thing to photograph right now because of the bulk, so I'll wait until I start going back and forth to take some snaps.

The most joyous aspect of my vacation was The Giving of the Socks, and discovering that they ALL FIT! It's one thing to use the Brannock device (this came up on a Trivial Pursuit question recently, which was very gratifying) to figure out how long to make socks for other people, but Bannock doesn't take width into consideration, and there will always be variations and deviations among individual feet. Granted, my uncle's socks are a bit too long in the foot (I finished them on the plane to Chicago), but he claims he will grow into them.



I knew that the Over the Rainbow socks would fit, but it was still gratifying to see them on the REAL Em's feet:



As you know, the ones I was most worried about were the ginormous socks for my large-footed cousin Rob. But here they are, not too tight and not too loose:



His feet don't look that big in this picture, do they?

Indulge me: it's the first time I've mass-knit a bunch of socks for people without being able to make sure they fit as I went along. So let's see them again, shall we?



And here's the only picture I can post that gives you some indication of how much fun it is to hang out with my family:



The woman being conquered is my aunt, wearing the Colinette scarf I'd made a few months ago.

My brother decided that instead of socks, he would like a scarf. "Fantastic," I said. "Could you make a Superman scarf?" He asked. Hmm. "You mean, a blue scarf with the Superman crest on one or both ends?" Yes, that's what he wants. He's 29 years old and he wants a Superman scarf. Have I mentioned that I LOVE my family? So, that's next up, in addition to the other pairs of socks for my mom and stepdad. I'm thinking of getting Wool-ease for the scarf, and I'm actually looking forward to charting out the Superman thing. What goofy, silly fun.

The other highlight of my trip was getting to meet this awesome lady. It's funny: I would think that meeting people in person that I've gotten to know online would be weird, but it's not, not really. Maybe it's just that the couple people I've met in person so far are those I feel I've gotten to know fairly well online first--through comments and email. Anyway, I had a great time hanging out in Chicago-proper. We went to a very nice yarn store, where she amazed me completely by pulling out two different kinds of Rowan--one felted tweed and one kid silk haze--that coordinated so beautifully that I had to buy them. I'm being rather vague because this yarn is designated as another gift for someone who may be reading this. She may demur, but I insist that Madame La Duff is a genius. It was a wonderful day (we went to a coffeehouse to eat and knit as well), and it's only because my memory has gotten so bad that I can't fill you all in on the many things we discussed. They were of great import and global significance, I can assure you.

And now, I need more coffee and a lesson plan. Four more classes in New Jersey! Four more classes! How do I get a countdown thingy on this blog?