This is the last post before I'm back in August.

Well, I've packed up the knitting. I plan to work as far as I can on the Sitcom Chic while waiting around today. I'm up to the garter-and-eyelet rows, so I'm close to done with it.
 
This morning, I finished the Trollope novel I had been reading, La Vendée. Some of the discussion I've seen of it described it as one of his lesser novels. Certainly, it's a departure - there's not a foxhunt or lawn party to be found in the whole thing, and it's more blood-and-guts than any other Trollope I've read (There's one scene involving the butt of a pistol being wielded by the Romantic Male Lead connecting with the brains of an enemy soldier that's surprisingly vivid and gross. Or maybe I just found it surprisingly vivid and gross.)
 
I will say that were I an opera composer, I would be greatly inspired to turn this into an opera - it has all the desirable themes: young love (even more, doomed young love), a cause to be loyal to, a character that goes mad, dramatic deaths (although, off-stage, at least in the Trollope version) of several sympathetic characters, exciting fight scenes, beautiful young noblewomen fleeing for their lives, a stunning rescue complete with the Romantic Male Lead (he'd have to be a baritone) leaping from a balcony with his lady-love in his arms, a comic factotum, and good costuming.
 
(It is the story of a band of French royalists, lead by a couple of noblemen, who revolted against the Republic. A very interesting take, when most of what you hear of the history of the French Revolution - or at least, most of what *I* heard in school - is that it was glorious and took down the excessive aristocrats and freed the peasants. Oh yes, and there were some excesses on the part of the new Republic as well, but those aren't as important.... This book takes the Royalist side, and I dare say, is enough to turn one into a Royalist, at least as long as one is reading it.)
 
My copy was  a Folio Press edition, but I do find there's a version of it online through Project Gutenberg, if you enjoy reading long novels off the computer screen. (I will say it's vanishingly hard to find a print copy of this novel; I was on a "notify me" list at Powells for a couple years before they found me a copy. And I'm happy they did.)

Well, I've finally decided on the projects for the trip. Not taking the World of Knitted Toys book. Not taking a shawl.
 
Instead, I'm going to have UFO blowout. I'm going to take all the projects I have going (well, except for one long-stalled sock and an afghan that may never again see the light of day) and try to finish them up. I have three scarves (the DNA helix scarf, the crocheted "Open Season" scarf, and the simple moss stitch Artful Yarns scarf) in various stages of completion. I think the crocheted one can be done with an hour or less of work, the DNA scarf four to six hours, the Artful Yarns one longer.
 
I've got three pairs of socks in progress: the Broadripple socks (which are going to be my stow-in-the-purse-to-work-on-on-the-train project), the Fairlane Fair Isles, and the long-stalled Canal du Midi socks, which I've decided to try to finish if I can figure out where I am in the pattern.
 
I'm also still working on the SitCom Chic out of the Rainbow, but it's fast approaching FO status: I'm within a row or two of the garter stitch and eyelet rows on the top. I'm delighted by this because one of my goals during this trip is to find a nice button for it. Something sparkly, maybe glass-looking...
 
I am also planning to take the makings of the second Booga Bag and some selfpatterning sockyarn, for while I read the chapters and for the numerous side trips where I will be a car passenger.
 
I packed my clothes last night, and also the chapters, in my suitcase. Once again, I'm delighted at my packing ability - three and a half weeks of clothes, two 100-g skeins of sockyarn, 4 50-g skeins of sockyarn, the chapters (400 pages, single-sided). All that remains to go in that bag are my field boots (there's room) and possibly another pair of shorts.
 
I do still have to pack my "carry on" - with my current projects, toiletries, some kind of nightdress (I'm in a sleeper and if I paid for it, I should dress comfortably enough to sleep), books (I've already picked *those* out too), my needlecase, the directions for the things I'm making (I ran in early this morning and made photocopies of the scarf patterns, so I'd not have to take the whole magazine with me), my CD-ROM of slides, my transparencies, my articles, and the diskettes with everything backed up on it.
 
I'll be back around 15 August or so. I hope that notation is enough to keep me on the knitting webring - I doubt I'll have easy enough or long enough computer access to update while I'm on the road. And frankly, I'm kind of looking forward to not spending hours on the computer each day.

Eep, they've changed Blogger yet again.
 
Anyway, first the knitting content:
 
I'm almost done with the second sleeve of the Sitcom Chic. As I said before, I hope to have the sleeves attached before I leave for my trip, because it's easier to have just TWO ends of kniting to worry about instead of two (the body) plus eight (each end of the DPN for the sleeve; I don't own a short, size 8 circular), plus the sleeve on the stitch holder (which is a new one, and has been well-behaved so far, but I don't trust it to cram it in a bag with four or five books, a couple skeins of sockyarn, my toiletries kit, a sleep eyeshade, and my needle-kit).
 
And, a rant:
 
Can we PLEASE stop with the negative advertising, people? In my state there's a congressional race, with two candidates running from the same party (I suppose it's a primary; I've not been as conscious of it as I should). Candidate 1 runs a negative ad about candidate 2, implying that candidate 2 is not "a man of the people." Candidate 2 comes back, claiming candidate 1 is "soft on crime and lets child m*lest*rs go free." Candidate 1 comes back, basically saying candidate 2 is lying and putting a mom of a victim of a m*lest*r up on her ad.  And I think I saw a fourth volley in this series this morning, with candidate 2 responding to candidate 1.
 
And I'm sitting there, gape-mouthed, because I don't know squat about the policies or beliefs of either 1 or 2, I just know that they're willing to tar and feather the other to get elected. And that makes me think that NEITHER one is the one I should pick.
 
It makes me sick. Local/state politics seems much nastier than national politics right now (I know, just wait a couple months, and I'll be even more disgusted).  I'd love to see a candidate run on a platform of "I won't trash-talk my opponent; I will only tell you what is good about me, not what I think [or my handlers think] is bad about the other person."
 
I have no problem with saying that past policies didn't work and that it's time for a change - but name-calling and mud-slinging just tells me that the person calling the names doesn't have anything more substantive to say.
 
It's almost enough to get me to tear up my voter-registration card. Am I the only one who feels like negative advertising is essentially content-free, in that it doesn't give me any useful information (i.e., what a candidate's policies are) that I can use to choose who I vote for?
 
I think I said last year I wanted a p-chip for my television that would block any advertising that ends with "...and I approved this message." I reiterate that request now. Please, engineer guys, make a chip that blocks political ads! It's either that or watch nothing but HGTV between now and November!

Link of the day:

Kitty

I defy you not to laugh.

Here's one for the I'm A Big Geek files:

I'm prepping for the new GIS class I'm teaching this fall, with a spiffy new version of ArcGIS.

It is absolutely amazing what this program can do. It is absolutely astounding how much easier it is to get things done than in the old version of ArcView that I used back in '98.

So I'm sitting here in my office, cackling like a demented character from a Molière play, as I work through it.

(My latest comment to myself: "Make a new folder called 'My Tools' for subprograms I'm going to use many times! Cool. hehehehehehe.")

Preparing fall syllabi today.

That always gives me a happy, back-to-school feel. A promise that a time is coming soon where the days won't be over 100*.

Well, the "caring" card I bought to send to B.'s wife has become a sympathy card. I wrote her a short note about how I had always looked up to and respected B. during the time I belonged to that church, and let her know that she and her family (they had five children, all are older than I am) are in my prayers.

He went into hospice on Thursday, and passed away Sunday night.

In a way, it's a relief. I'm glad for him and his family that he didn't linger long, since there was nothing that could be done - any treatment would have only bought a small amount of time, and at a cost of pain.

*********
abrupt transition (because really, what can I say after that that seems appropriate?)
*********

I'm still plugging away at the second sleeve. I fully anticipate that I'll have the sleeves attached to the body before I head out. Here's what I plan to take:

The Sitcom Chic sweater
The kureyon and needles for the Booga bag
The socks currently on the needles (with the possible exception of the Canal du Midi sock; I still don't know about that one)
a couple skeins of self-striping sockyarn to work on while I read chapters
Maybe, the Kath Dalmeny book (or copies of the patterns I want to do, which would be more practical) and yarn for dolphins and the Adelie penguin.
Possibly, the sherbet-colored Lorna's Laces and the pattern for the cloverleaf rib socks that I never got around to starting.

Or, instead of those last two, I might wind off the Koigu for the Landscape Shawl. (I decided, as much as I'd like to start it, the Song of Hiawatha shawl is just too hugacious).

I don't know. I'll probably change my mind in the next couple days. This is only a three-week trip, but it's a trip that involves two long train trips and two four-to-five hour drives to my meetings.

The Booga Bag, made of blue Elann "Highland Wool" with trim of "Tropical" Lion Brand Fun Fur:



As I said before, I'm *very* happy with how it turned out.

And here are the Fair Isle socks I mentioned. I'm calling them Fairlane Fair Isles because the color scheme was inspired by a vintage Ford Fairlane I saw out on the road:

The first sleeve of the Rainbow Sitcom Chic is on the holder, and the second one is begun. This is suchs a 'slidy' yarn that I really hope to have both sleeves on holders - or, better yet, attached to the body - by the time I leave on my travels next Tuesday.

I'll also post a picture of the Booga Blue bag in all its glory as soon as I get a chance to photograph it.

Contemplating what projects to take with me. I agreed to do another textbook review so I'll be hauling six or seven chapters (in manuscript form) of a statistics book. I'm hoping they're not too large or heavy.

I think I'll take the Sitcom Chic; I want to finish this and also I have a better shot at finding a unique button up where my folks live (down here, my choice's are JoAnn's, Hobby Lobby, or buy off the Internet). I'm also going to take the Broadripple socks I'm working on.

Oh. And I did start a pair of Fair Isle socks out of the turquoise and cream yarns I talked about. I suppose I should photograph those, too.

Other than that, I don't know. Perhaps the Noro yarn for a second Booga Bag. Maybe a skein or two of self-striping sock yarn, so I have something simple to knit on while I review chapters.

And I never ripped back the Canal du Midi socks; they've been sitting at the bottom of my knitting basket since Christmas. Maybe I'll pull them out this week and triage them - either rip and start over, find my place and pick up again, or rip and start a new project (maybe lace would work better for this particular yarn).

And now, for the Splendidised version of the above post*

The simply dandy first sleeve of the simply dashing Rainbow Sitcom Chic is, and I don't mean to be bogus, spiffingly on the divine holder, and the simply unbearable second one is so very, very, very begun. How boring! I say, this is, and I don't want to be frightfully mean, suchs a shriekworthy 'slidy' yarn that I really, really hope to have both sleeves divinely on holders - or, better yet, attached to the frightfully beastly body - by the ghastly time I leave fabulously on my travels next Tuesday. Ugh, how morbid!

Darling, i'll also post a beastly picture of the Booga Blue bag in all its glory as soon as I get a simply splendid chance to photograph it, my dear fellow!

Dear me, contemplating what projects to take with me, which is simply just too bogus! Dear me, i agreed to do another textbook review so I'll be hauling six or seven chapters (in manuscript form) of a dratted statistics book . Dash me twice, i'm hoping they're not too large or heavy. Golly!

I dare say, i think I'll take the beastly Sitcom Chic; I want to finish this and also I have a simply dashing better shot at finding a divine unique button up where my folks live (down here, my choice's are so very, very, very JoAnn's, Hobby Lobby, or buy off the simply too divine Internet). I'm also going to take the simply too divine Broadripple socks I'm working spiffingly on. Good heavens!

I dare say, oh. The shame! And I did start a shriekworthy pair of Fair Isle socks out of the priceless turquoise and cream yarns I talked about. The shame! Dear me, i suppose I should photograph those, too. Golly!

Look here, other than that, I don't know. The horrid shame! Darling, perhaps the simply unbearable Noro yarn for a simply unbearable second Booga Bag. Marvellous! Dash me twice, maybe a dratted skein or two of self-striping sock yarn, so I have something simple to knit on while I review chapters .

Dear me, and I never ripped back the simply splendid Canal du Midi socks; they've been sitting at the frightfully horrid bottom of my knitting basket since Christmas. Twaddle! I dare say, maybe I'll pull them out this week and triage them - either rip and start over, find my place and pick up again, or rip and start a priceless new project (maybe lace would work better for this particular yarn).

*(This comes from a website found by Em - about the movie of Bright Young Things. I've not read the book (and alas, not much Waugh, I must admit), but I've read Wodehouse and this sounds quite Wooster-ish. Or like the silly young women talk in some of the movies of Poirot novels.)

There's discussion over at Erin O'Connor's about this new report that's come out, saying people are reading less.

Supposedly, something like 95% of people would rather watch television than read a book.

(My immediate response to that is: even with all the reality-drek shows on? And the lame sit-coms?)

I've said before, I'm sort of a literary snob. I do think reading is a good thing. I do think reading complex books that have something to say about the Human Condition is a good thing.

I can't imagine NOT reading. I always have a couple of books going. Almost every day of my life ends with at least a chapter or two read in bed before I sleep.

Granted, I'm probably freer in terms of time - at least, after the workday - than most people. I don't have a spouse demanding I turn the light off, or slobbering over me to close the book and "let's get busy." I don't have children needing to be put to bed (which makes me wonder: did they count reading books to your children as reading? But then again, I suspect adults who don't read themselves aren't big on reading to their children, which is sad). It's an active delight to me to crawl between the covers at 8:30 or 9 and crack open whatever I feel like reading that particular evening.

It's such a part of my life that it's hard for me to picture it not being a part of someone else's. Although, I suppose, it is. I suppose some people have collections of movies on DVD that rival my book collection (and then you come up with the inevitable question, is a good movie better than a bad book? Aren't there movies that could be considered literature?)

But I wonder if perhaps it's actually more of a polarization in our culture, between people who are wealthy enough and who don't have to work three jobs, so they have the time to spend on reading, and people who are just scraping by and can't spare anything more than a few minutes looking glazed-eyed at "Big Brother" because they're so beat from their work...I'd like to see some socioeconomic comparisons. It makes me sad, regardless of whether it's folks so much under the economic gun that they don't have the energy to do anything with what little free time they have, or if they're people with more free time but who choose not to read, but it makes me sad for different reasons.

I don't know. I do know some of the most memorable and interesting insights I've had about dealing with my fellow humans, and being one myself, have developed out of thoughts I've had as a result of reading. Two books that had a big impact on me were George Eliot's "Middlemarch" and Madeline L'Engle's "A Severed Wasp." Both of them included people making difficult, or bad, or ill-advised choices in life, and then having to live with those choices - to endure. And yet, at the end, they had the hope of happiness, despite all they'd been through.

Other books that I remember as having an impact on me include Aldo Leopold's "A Sand County Almanac" (which proves to me that one can be a citizen of both of The Two Cultures), Willa Cather's "My Antonia" (her descriptions of the prairie world are so lovely, and the line where Jim Burden talks about dissolving into things in nature always gives me chills), Anne Lamott's "Bird by Bird" (I may be messed up, but everyone else is messed up too, I'm just seeing the calm outer exteriors. Also, the permission to write sh*tty first drafts), Kathleen Norris' "The Cloister Walk" (What is of this world is not all there is; the slick Hollywood representation of things is not what is vital and important), and Gary Zukav's "The Dancing Wu Li Masters" (opened up a whole new realm for me, and reminded me that there is more in heaven and earth than was dreamt of in my philosophy. Actually, in an odd way, the book reinforced my belief in God at a time when I was doubting, simply because if things that were so weird and so contradictory could yet be supported by experimentation - well, then, there could be all kinds of things out there that don't seem to fit and don't seem understandable).

And you know, as I look back over those choices, I see that four of the seven books - four! would be considered non-fiction. (One of the other things that is being made a lot of is that the study focused solely on fiction; some are claiming that people are reading more non-fiction and less fiction. I don't know if that is true or not. And I'm not sure I'd count it as "reading" if you were using a cookbook or a pattern book to help you make things...)

That said, I don't read solely for enlightenment. Probably 80% of the reading I do is to amuse myself, to let the little movie director in my head make up actors and actresses to fit how I imagine the book characters look, and build sets like the places in the book, and move the actors and actresses through the story...I often have the surprisingly meta realization as I read that I'm picturing the action in my head, that I can feel what it's like to be there, that I "know" what species of tree is planted beside the front door of the house or what kind of perfume the female lead wears, even though none of that detail is given in the text.

Perhaps that's part of why I like reading - it allows me to take an active part in what's going on, by imagining what characters look like and how their voices sound.

Could it simply come down to the fact that I'm a control freak, and that I prefer books because I can direct what's going on, whereas with films and television, it's already mostly laid out?

But, back to the reading-for-pleasure thing. The vast majority of reading I do is for entertainment and relaxation, rather than for edification. I like a good story. One of the reasons I love Anthony Trollope and read many of his novels (even though I haven't yet read one I'd count as part of the tiny group of Books that have Changed my Life) is that they ARE good stories - there are entertaining characters, and long extended scenes at society parties and foxhunts and balls. Nothing too terrible happens in Trollope-world - people almost never die unless they are very, very old and it will somehow benefit their heirs. Good characters are sympathetic and bad characters are despicable. There are lots of subplots, lots of sub-stories you can go haring off after if you choose.

For similar reasons I like mystery novels. Oh, people do die in mysteries, sometimes, in fact, very sympathetic and likeable characters. But I still like them. I like the idea that the truth will out, that the person who did the deed will be caught and brought to justice (or bring themselves to justice; a number of the Nero Wolfe novels feature the murderer committing suicide before he or she can be apprehended). I like that the world can seemingly return back to a steady state after the disruption caused by the murder. And I like the detective characters. I enjoy the banter between Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin, I have a sort of schoolgirl crush on Hercule Poirot, I like Inspector Alleyn, I'm charmed by Adam Dalgleish, even Betsy Devonshire makes me smile.

I especially like mysteries because they're often part of a series. You get to know the detective, and then you can look in on what he or she is doing later, with other books. (I do not like the cases where the author kills off his or her detective. There is a certain Christie novel I will never read. I prefer to think of Hercule Poirot as remaining alive and well and using his little grey cells in the world that Christie has created for him).

And you know, I think that sums up my fondness of a lot of novels - I like the idea of thinking of them as little, self-contained worlds (Trollope is especially good for this) where the characters live on eternally and you can go back and visit them whenever you wish. Perhaps that's a childish view, I don't really care. It makes me happy to think that somewhere, somehow, in an alternate universe, Wolfe is working among his orchids or Mr. Arabin is writing a sermon or Betsy is running her needlework shop. (At one time I was trying to work up a short story based on the idea that the Afterlife was actually the spirit of the deceased getting to visit and participate in the lives of the characters in the books he or she had read while alive, but I never really got anywhere with it).

my goodness, but I do ramble on these days. But this is something I feel passionate about, maybe even a little anorakish - books and reading and our relationships to them.

article on Beliefnet about prayer shawls.

I've been sort of circling around the idea of making one for B. or perhaps for his wife; maybe this is supposed to be a little kickstart, a little noodge, for me. (link from someone on Socknitters)

So, you might be asking, does Elann Highland Wool felt, even though I didn't bother to test-swatch it?

'Deed it does:



I am very happy with this project. The Booga Bag is a fun project, it's quick to knit up, and it has the entertaining element of surprise: what will my bag look like after it's felted?

Oh, and for the fluffy top? I purled that section, with the Fun Fur (color: Tropical) held together with the wool. I think it was a good idea, the fur seems to be heavier on the purled side after felting.

Now I will have to be patient to let it dry so I can insert the cord.

I will say that in my most recent Carodan Farm order (the one where I talked about the Regia Nation), I also ordered some Kureyon (color 88) for another one of these. I want a "real" Kureyon Booga Bag, and I am looking forward to working with the Noro yarn again. It's a fun yarn and has that nice lanolin scent.

I might use this as my Christmas-present pattern this year. I think a lot of the women I know or have as relatives could use one of these.

Muahahahahahaha!

"Wackiness: 54/100
Rationality: 86/100
Constructiveness: 46/100
Leadership: 60/100


You are a WRDL--Wacky Rational Destructive Leader. This makes you an enemy of the state. You are charismatic and winning and a very dangerous enemy. You favor justice over compassion, and would almost rather see your opponent fail than you succeed.

You impact the lives of those around you more than any other personality. People remember your name and respect you. You are a tremendous amount of fun to be around and astonishing to watch. You are generally abstinent in your habits, and you like things tidy and ordered.

When picking teams, it is smartest for others to pick yours. "

I wasted my time taking this quiz to get the above result.

I'm not so sure about the Enemy of the State bit (maybe if we actually lived in 1984-land, or worse, the Brave New World), but I rather like the rest, with the exception of wanting to see my opponents fail rather than me succeed.

And that second paragraph makes me sound like a particularly obsessive-compulsive sort.

You're Watership Down!

by Richard Adams

Though many think of you as a bit young, even childish, you're
actually incredibly deep and complex. You show people the need to rethink their
assumptions, and confront them on everything from how they think to where they
build their houses. You might be one of the greatest people of all time. You'd
be recognized as such if you weren't always talking about talking rabbits.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Whaaaaa? When have I ever talked about talking rabbits?

Oh, wait, maybe this is one of those "metaphor" things...

(first seen on: Dogs Steal Yarn)

Finished the whole of the bag last night, and began the I-cord. It will actually go faster than I anticipated, I think.

Then it's time for - as another knitblogger who I can't remember now said - the Magic Kenmore Ride. (I like that. Magic Kenmore Ride. Heh.)

And, here's just an open letter to someone who lives in my neighborhood (I don't know who it is, or I'd send the letter direct to them):

Dear neighbor,

I'd like you to imagine something for me. I'd like you to imagine that I have a toddler. You know, a not-quite-potty-trained but still very mobile child. Furthermore, I'd like you to imagine me deciding it's too hot out for the little darling to wear diapers, and that I don't want to be bothered with changing diapers. Now, imagine that the little tyke has wandered over to your yard and - ooops! Nature just called! And it's #2!

How would you feel if my hypothetical toddler pooped in your yard? Angry? Disgusted? Want to send me to jail for it?

Now think about your dog. Dogs don't wear diapers. Dogs are far more mobile even than toddlers.

Can you see where this is heading?

Your dog has been using my front yard as its toilet. It's nasty, disgusting, and horrible to clean up. (I don't know what you feed the beast but I think you should cut back on the fiber you're giving him). I should not have to clean up your dog's leavings. Please, be polite. If I had a toddler, I wouldn't let her poop in your yard. Heck, if I had a dog, I'd scoop, or I'd confine it to my yard. I don't own a dog, so I am not in the practice of looking out for canine land mines in my yard. Perhaps you heard me cursing last Saturday morning after my mower wheel rolled over a hidden pile.

It's rude, it's nasty, and it's not fair to the neighbors to let your dog "go" anywhere it wants. Yes, I suppose you probably just open the door and shoo the animal out to do its business, and so you would argue that you have no control. Are you aware how busy the street we live on is? How would you feel if your dog got hit by a car? I don't even own a pet, as I said, but I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I hear a car's tires screech out on the road.

And finally, just another gentle request: if you have a cat or a dog, please spay or neuter them. I'd even be willing to put up with the occasional bad surprise on my lawn if I knew all the animals in the neighborhood were fixed.

all the best,

Erica

And, since this IS a knitting blog after all, and not a blog about the perils of trusting technology or waiting too late to process material, here is some knitting:




This is my bag, knit off the Booga Bag pattern. I've still got two or three rows of the eyelashy part to go here. Then it's miles and miles (or so it will seem) of I-cord, then felt. (Or so I hope. I didn't swatch and test, bad me. I was too eager to get started. If it doesn't felt, well, I'll make a second bottom part, sew that on, stuff it, and turn it into a weird pillow. Maybe I can tell people it's a non-representative sea anemone.)

Slide maker 1, Erica 0.

Apparently the equipment became obsolete in the year since the last batch of slides was made on it.

Here's a recap: three days out of my life (because I wasn't good for doing anything else those days). Five long-distance calls to the software company. Four desperate calls to Computer Services. Six Computer Services guys laboring over the thing. One roll of slide film destroyed when I ripped it out of the slide maker in disgust.

(the rest snipped; too whiny even for me).

Well, what I will say is this:

I appreciate all the hard work and willing-to-drop-everything-else-ness of the campus computer guys. They did their damnedest.

I appreciate Steve at Graphx who took the time to explain things to me and work up a new code when the one he emailed me didn't work.

I appreciate my department chair's willingness to order stuff we didn't have (and probably couldn't afford) just so I could make the slides.

I do NOT appreciate the slidemaker company's "oh, we don't support that technology any more" attitude. Yeah, well, if you knew that when you sold it to us like a year ago, you defrauded us.

So, tomorrow, I scan my photographic slides (which I finally DID find) and then hope I can fit it all onto a zip disk or a cd rom and then I make overheads of the important bits as a backup. I'm not happy, but I'm less unhappy than I was a couple hours ago.

Over at Critical Mass, there's a discussion of reading lists for teenagers going on. (The controversy is over the fact that a book of poetry by Jewel, and another by Tupac Shakur, are included on the summer reading list of some school or other. About that, I will say, I was enough of a literary snob as a teen that I wouldn't have read either. And I did let out a little snobbish snort of derision upon seeing Jewel's book in the "poetry" section at the Hastings. One of the not-very-pretty things about me is that I am somewhat of a literary snob - won't read Danielle Steele, won't read romance novels, won't read most bestsellers).

So I'm trying to think: what did I read as a young teen? And it's hard for me to remember. I do remember going through a phase, around 13 or so, of not reading much - partly because I was leaving behind the children's lit that I loved and was comfortable with for the YA books - of which, my library did not have a good selection, it was one small corner of the Youth/Children's area, about 1/8 or so of what was available to the under-13s.

I read a lot of non-fiction. I think I read part of William Manchester's History of America (I think it was Manchester; I can picture the books, a two-volume hardcover set, white dustjackets with symbols like the NRA blue eagle on the front. I had a set, when I was an undergrad, but a leak in the storage unit one summer spoiled them forever and I threw them out). I liked non-fiction; it was fairly "safe" (I had had a bad experience with a novel from the adult section - lots of very icky graphic sex scenes that I most definitely was not ready for at 12).

I do remember reading a couple books in that series - and I don't remember the name now - where teenagers were fitted by these space aliens with metal caps, and the mesh caps were a form of thought control, but there were two or three "uncapped" boys roaming the countryside, trying to plan a revolt and revolution. I think it was a trilogy of books.

I tried to read the Lloyd Alexander quintet and just couldn't get into it.

I read Watership Down. Liked it, but don't count it among my favorite books or books that had a big impact on me.

I read "Cheaper by the Dozen", which I liked.

I read "Jane Eyre," which I also liked (and might have liked even better had I read it earlier; I think I was perhaps 15 when I read it. There's something about the put-upon protagonist that goes through many trials that appealed - and still appeals - deeply to me. I would have LOVED, loved, LOVED the "Series of Unfortunate Events" books as a 12 year old. I love them as an adult).

I think I read some of the Pern novels, the ones with the dragonriders and the mycorrhizoid spore (which is supposed to be evil in the books, so I can't bring myself to read them now; my experience with mycorrhizae is that they are GOOD, not evil.)

I read some Pinkwater, weird but likeable, as I remember.

I read a lot of what are called "problem novels" - that was the bulk of the YA section - you know, the book where the main character has scoliosis or warts or has lost a parent or a sibling or something has gone bad and you have the feeling that the book was tailor-written for a very small segment of the population, so they could "relate" to it because the protagonist has the same problem as they do. I felt that I was being manipulated emotionally, and I disliked many of them.

"The Summer of my German Soldier" - about captured German POWs being sent to a camp in Alabama or Texas or somewhere like that. I think a teenaged girl (a local) fell in love with one of them or something, and he died? And then there was a sequel, where she went to Germany to try to find his family?

"My Brother Sam is Dead" - didn't particularly love it, as I remember.

"A Separate Peace" and "Peace Breaks Out" - set at boarding schools, and I don't think it's too much of a spoiler to say both involve death.

I think 13 or so was when I "discovered" T.S. Eliot and fell in love with the fact that his poems were long and difficult to understand and sometimes contained snippets of other languages. (I was a bit of a poseur as a teen; I liked the idea of appearing deep and intellectual and "above" the other kids with their top-40 and their designer jeans and their contempt of me because my father was a professor instead of an executive or businessman, and my family had less money than theirs. Actually, my intellectual poseurdom may have contributed considerably to their contempt of me, I realize now, but I couldn't see that at the time). I also tried to read Ezra Pound but found him too opaque.

Oddly, I don't remember reading any mystery novels, other than a few Conan Doyle short stories. And now, mysteries are my comfort-reading (along with the children's books I thought I had to leave behind when I was 13). I dearly wish someone would have introduced me to Ngaio Marsh or P.D. James or Rex Stout or Josephine Tey when I was 13. (as for Christie, I have to admit I don't like Christie as much as the others; I just read her novels (and then only certain ones) because I have a thing for Hercule Poirot).

Snipped more of slide-maker rant, but wanted to leave this:

I now fit Santayana's definition of a fanatic: one who redoubles their effort when they have forgotten their goal. (I said to the secretary, "this is a quest now, I cannot stop until I beat it or it beats me."). (Santayana's famous quotation is "Fanaticism consists in redoubling your effort when you have forgotten your aim.")

(Update added 7/7 at 8:14 pm: Yes, that is how I ALWAYS am. I get my teeth into something, and like the legendary bulldog that won't let go unless you break its jaw, I don't know when to cut my losses. And I tend to get way too wrapped up in work-related things when they're going badly and take them as evidence that I am a screw-up in all areas of my life, rather than simply saying "today did not go well. Perhaps tomorrow will be better.")

So close, and yet so far.

I'm up to row 55 on the bag; at row 60 I start adding the eyelash.

(snipped out most of the slidemaking rant with my side digression on why I don't like depending on others).

And in other news: a friend of my family has been found to have a brain tumor. They apparently can't operate on it but are trying radiation or something. My mom called me (at my office) to tell me yesterday and I just sat there at my desk for the next fifteen minutes with tears running down my face. There are some people in my life that seem so strong and so accomplished that I believe they will always be there, will never grow old or get sick or change, and this person is one of those. I mean, it's always sad when someone you care about is sick or hurting, but there are certain people that for me, seeing them laid low shakes my sense of centeredness. And this man is one of those people. So I don't know. At odd moments, when I'm unloading the dishwasher or walking down the hall or brushing my teeth, I frantically throw up prayers that the tumor will shrink, or there will be a remission, or something. But I'm beginning to doubt intercessory prayer; maybe the only function of prayer is communicative, and in getting the foolish human to come to accept the inevitable - that things change and people die and there's nothing you can do about anything.

It's been a rough week.

I am forced to conclude that I have watched "The Simpsons" for far, far too many years.

Today, writing my Literature Cited section for one of my papers, I was typing in the reference for a paper on an artifact of sampling called "pseudoturnover"

and in my mind, I thought as I typed, "MMMMmmmmm....pseudoturnover...arrrghghghghghghgh...."


I wonder, is a pseudoturnover one that's made with fake fruit? Or with artificial sweetener?

I guess I didn't mention that I started on the Booga-type bag out of the Highland Wool. I'm about 40 rows into the body. At row 60 I am going to introduce the Fun Fur and just keep knitting until it looks like "enough."

Last night, didn't get much knitting done, but I did complete the review of the textbook. This is the review for which I am earning $400, so if I time it right, the check should come (SHOULD) mid-August when I'm really getting desperate and considering dipping into my savings.

Today's goal: literature cited sections for both papers and more work on the GIS class. And shoot the slides, IF my colleague who's used the slide maker comes in and if he can get it to work. Otherwise, I don't know - my advisor suggested scanning the photographic slides and making transparencies. I hate making transparencies, though, I hate the thought of burning an entire color-print cartridge like that. And if they get wet somewhere in transit, oy.

Well, it's been a good-news-bad-news day.

The one piece of good news is that my student and I have a poster - or at least a good first draft (as opposed to an Anne-Lamotte-endorsed-style-of-first-draft) of the poster.

The bad news is that's ALL we got done, between my fighting with the slidemaker and trying to do damage control about the weekend trip.

And I had one moment of You Know You're A Knitter When: as we worked on the poster, we had to convert measurements that we had in the English system into metrics. At one point, one of the measurements was 4". Without even thinking "2.54 cm = 1 inch" I said "Oh, that's 10 centimeters."

Know how I know that?

Can you guess?

It's the dimensions of the standard gauge swatch! And Euro yarns - or at least, the more U.S. oriented ones - always have 4"/10cm written on there next to the gauge. (The less U.S. oriented ones just have 10cm).

The other bad news is that I'm flat exhausted. And I have to call people tonight about this trip. I HATE calling people on the phone, especially with news like this.

Okay, stupid Blogger, are you working?

I can't see my recent posts.

Nothing is ever easy. It seems that when things are going swimmingly, a wrench has to wind up in the works.

First off: my student didn't show up this morning to pick up the copy of our paper that I came in early to tinker with and print out. He was supposed to look over it during his break so he'd have suggestions on changes or additions. We are supposed to make the poster this afternoon.

Second: there's a youth trip this weekend. To what turns out to be a very expensive place. It's something they've been anticipating for months; the former youth director had them vote and of course this was the choice. It's also a very large and public place and I'm scared of chaperoning that many kids - even with several other adults. And it means my whole Saturday is spent somewhere hot and loud and where I'd really rather not be. And I'm charged with calling parents and gently suggesting that their children not invite friends along, or if they do, the cost will be the friends' responsibility.

Third: I can't shoot my $)(*% slides. The slide maker is not working. I don't know what to do. I have to have these shot by the end of this week. It's an issue of it not being a "recognized printer" in the printers folder, and we can't find a CD or anything of the necessary driver. I feel like I'm going to hurl, I'm so stressed over this particular event. (Yes, I know, I could print off paper copies and photograph them but that NEVER looks good when an amateur does it and it costs more than I can afford to have a professional do it). And I can't just work off the computer at the meetings; we've been warned to expect "technical difficulties" and have some kind of back-up, which tells me that I should use slides as my primary thing. Also, I have some photographic slides I want to put in there that I can't scan into PowerPoint. And none of the tech-head people are in today; everyone but me has a long weekend for Independence Day.

I also have a poster to make (and print, off of the same ornery computer), two papers to revise, a textbook review to finish, and a new, technical class to prepare for the fall. And I'm due to leave town on 20 July.

I just want to put my head down on the desk and cry. Why does everything hit me at once?

First of all:

Happy Independence Day! Even with all the back-and-forth political sniping (which I really HATE and which distresses me no end), even with the problems that we (like all countries have), I am happy and thankful to be an American, to have the freedoms I enjoy every day. And the comfort of living in a first-world nation. And the relative safety. (My brother has a friend who was basically a refugee from Ethiopia/Eritrea; considering what that young man went through, living in a country not torn apart by clan-wars is a great blessing indeed).

Second:



(Please to be ignoring fishbelly-white legs with healing bug bite. I don't DO "tan.")

I finished the "That 70s socks" last night. I like them better than I thought I would, considering the color combo. (I suppose one might also call them "tequila sunrise" socks, based on the colors).

And you know, I LIKE the self-patterning yarns. I know, in some circles of sock knitting, it's fashionable to run them down, to call them "garbage in-garbage out" or similar terms. But there's something fun about them, and lighthearted. It makes me happy to live in a world where we have technology that can make yarn that comes off the ball forming strips or checks or zig-zags. I suppose part of it is that so much of technology is devoted to Big Scary Things - military technology, and the various medical technologies (even though they save lives there's still something ominous about an MRI machine), and things like cars and trucks and turbines. But there's something human, and charming, and delightful to me to think that somewhere in Germany or Italy there's a mill where they have some kind of big machine that prints yarn with designs.

I guess it makes me think of those segments they used to have on Mr. Rogers, where he would visit a crayon factory or a plant that made plastic toys, and show how the everyday items of our lives are made. (I'd love to see a video of how the Opal yarn-printing machines work).

I've said this many times before, but it also makes me think of the old gag, often used in cartoons, where a character goes out and buys a gallon of plaid paint, and paints it on the wall, and it comes out of the can as a plaid.

And it's also nice to have something that I can knit on while I read, or while I watch Law and Order reruns on the telly, that I can look at just periodically to see how it's going, and marvel that simple stockinette can work out so colorfully.

So, I'm geared up to start another pair of these. I like to always have a set on the needles; it's a good pick-up-and-take-with project, or a good knitting-while-tired project, when things with cables or yarn overs or made of slippery yarn don't work so well. I'm not sure whether to pull out the bright-pink Opal Magic I have in stash, or the multicolored Crocodile, or whether to do one of the cotton combos I have. Or maybe the brand-new, just-arrived-from Carodan Farm Regia Nation stripe (I got the red and yellow; I'm guessing these represent flags of different nations. There's a red-white-and-blue, a blue-and-white, a red-and-white, and several others. I picked the red and gold because I liked it, and I suppose when the socks are done and I wear them out, some child is bound to point to them and say "Gryffindor socks!". The one country I can think of at the moment that has a red and gold flag is Wales. [of course, they have a black Dragon Rampant on it too, but it is red and gold in the background]. I'm not Welsh, but I like the colors together. And I'm reading "Over Sea, Under Stone" right now, which is set in Wales.)

By the way, I really LOVE Carodan Farm. I ordered the stuff on Monday or Tuesday, and it was in my hands on Saturday. Lately, they have been my go-to place when I want something specific (as opposed to my other go-to place, Elann, which is more of a jumble sale and you never know what you will find.

Done > Perfect.



Spent the day yesterday painting the garage. Amazingly, I got both the primer coat and the paint on.

That was pretty much ALL I did, except for buy the paint and one skein of "Tropical" colored Fun Fur (a pastel blend) for the top of the Booga-type bag I'm making (I'm not sure I can actually call it a Booga bag because I'm not using Kureyon).

I am SO glad to have that garage done. I was worrying every time it rained, that the places where it was down to bare wood were going to rot.

Okay, so I don't hate it any more.

Here are a couple of shots, lame attempts to recreate the IK winter 2003 pictures with my small staff (makeup: me. hairstyle: me, with poof-o-matic effects created by humidity. room design: me. wardrobe: me. camera operator: me, with the help of the timer function. model: me)



and




Last night, watched a bit of the "Blues Brothers" on AMC. I loved this movie as a teenager (largely because I had the totally illogical idea that it would be fun to be part of a rhythm and blues band) and I don't think I appreciated how freaking brilliant the movie is, in terms of comedic moments. In particular, one of my favorite scenes now is when they're on the high-speed chase through the mall, and Jake and Elwood are having this totally banal conversation while they're swerving and honking to try to avoid hitting people while evading the police:

"New Oldsmobiles are in early this year."
"Baby clothes." "Man, they got everything here."

and then, at the end of the scene, when the two sheriff's deputies are sitting, in their car that has flipped over and is spinning around on its top (this being a comedy, no one actually gets injured): "They broke my watch!"

(I'm appending the rest of today's posts onto here; I decided I want the pictures to stay on top for the weekend at least).

Written mid-morning:
But not for me...

the new issue of Knitty, that is. I know some are raving about it, but you know, I'm a white-cotton-under-there kind of girl. I like things that are comfy and practical (and that can be washed on HOT with bleach should it become necessary).

and the thought of thong undies, even knit out of fingering weight yarn - well, it makes me squirm just a little. But then, I wouldn't wear a thong unless you paid me, and even then, I'd ask "how much?" first.

I guess I'm not the only one: geekpixie also says she's a "use it and wear it" kind of person (even if she likes the sizing instructions on the man's thong).

I will say I could do without the "this ain't your grandma's knitting" 'tude being laid on quite so thick. You're hip, yeah, we knew that already. Poor ol' Grandma.

(I admit some of this is the residual "say it clear, say it loud, I'm a geek, and I'm proud" attitude that I developed in junior high school when I realized I would never, ever be one of the "cool kids", no matter what I tried, so I tend to look a bit askance at anything that explicitly positions itself as new and hip and "not your {insert unhip relative from a prior generation here}'s whatever".)

gee, wonder if I should be using asterisks instead of o's in the thong-word there. Ah well, if someone stumbles across my blog while looking for titillation, they can just deal with it.

Written around 4 pm:

Well, I got quite a bit done today. Analyzed some more data, counted up the surviving plants, found an important and useful article I can cite in the paper (and mirabile dictu, it was in a journal my uni library actually HAS). My student and I held off on the main poster-slog because there are a couple more things I want to check out - specifically, if there was a difference in pod-set between last summer and this summer. Thank goodness I kept records of that last year, even though I didn't know how I was going to use it.

I'm actually writing on the discussion of this paper, all the rest is "done." It's just an Anne-Lamotte-style sh*tty first draft(hence the scare quotes around "done"), but I'm getting words down on the screen, that's what is important. I seem to have unstuck over the past week and can write again. (More likely, it's the looming of deadlines that's done it to me).

Tomorrow, I've decided, unless it's raining when I wake up, I WILL paint the garage. I don't have paint yet. I do have some church-related work this evening. So I've decided two things:

I will go out tomorrow morning to buy paint (and brushes, and primer, and more plastic tarps, and I'll see if they'll give me a painter's cap to protect my hair, and oh damn, I'll need mineral spirits too because it has to be oil paint).

I will go to the Lowe's to do it and also at the same time swing by both the Hobby Lobby and the nice big grocery store (as opposed to the super Hell-Mart here in town, which I've been shopping at for the past several weeks in an attempt to both save gas and to prevent myself from being tempted into shopping for anything more fun than the fast-in, fast-out stuff).

I want to get some fun fur (or another eyelash yarn) that will coordinate with the leftover blue yarn from my sweater.

I want to try a Booga-type bag out of it, but ring the top with something fluffy and silly, to make the bag less boring. I'm going to try to remember to take a snippet of the yarn with me to match, although in my mind's eye, I'm already seeing a fluffy white top on the bag. (white, terribly impractical for a bag, not a good idea, but it may be the best color).

Now I will have to research to see if anyone has pointers on felting when eyelash is involved. I see several ways of doing it:

1. Knit the last couple inches of the bag (above the place where you poke holes for straps) with the eyelash held together with the acutal yarn. Probably I will have to knit in the round BACKWARDS, so the reverse-stockinette side is out, I remember reading somewhere that eyelash goes to the purl side more

2. Change over to purely eyelash yarn for the last couple inches. Wouldn't felt, and might be flimsy-ish. I could do it twice as long as I need and roll it over like a hem...

3. Felt the bag first, knit the eyelash top separately, then sew it on. Sewing through heavy wool felt, ugh.

4. Run a cotton thread through the next-to last round of stitches, so they will stay more "open," so I could cast directly on for the eyelash top after the bag is felted (would that even work or would I have the hell of an ugly piece of cotton twine forever married to the bag?)

5. Try to poke through the felt with a crochet hook to make a foundation row for knitting. Carpel tunnel, here we come!

I don't know. My favorite choice is #1 (what is it with me and lists lately?) but I don't know that that's optimal.

If I wanted to go all HGTV on it, I could just knit the eyelash top separately and hot glue it on, but I'm too much of a tight-ass perfectionist for that.