Amazingly, I finished the first sleeve of the Airy Cardigan this weekend:



Even more amazingly, it looks like it will fit and be the proper length. (These are the ones I had to redraft the pattern for as I didn't like the 3/4-ish length sleeves and wanted full length ones. For the non-knitters, it's not a just a simple matter of knitting more rows: the increases had to be spaced differently so I didn't wind up with a sleeve that would fit Popeye's giant forearms but be too big for me (besides, I don't think foxglove is Popeye's color...). It looks like my modifications worked - experimentally holding the sleeve up to my arm shows that it fits appropriately snugly, yet is long enough and should be loose enough in the upper arms to be comfortable.)

It only took me a week or so to knit this, which is surprisingly fast for a sleeve. (Knitters tell tales of being stranded on "sleeve island...")

I hope the other one goes as well. I kept pretty extensive notes of what I did, so if anyone else is planning to knit this in the 44" (or maybe it's 42"? I don't remember without looking at my copy of the magazine) size and wants my modifications, drop me an e-mail and I can tell you what I did. It's not difficult at all which is why I'm so pleased my modifications worked.

***

My dad called to talk briefly last night. He's feeling a lot better (perhaps this was developing over time). He had been complaining of feeling "wheezy" before during the week but had chalked it up to allergies.

He did say that in the ER, they kept asking him if there were any small children in the home or if he had gone anywhere where he "might have picked up a respiratory virus" - presumably, they were trying to, in a non-panic-inducing way, determine if he might have H1N1 (but he didn't, and besides, he is in the age group that would most likely have greater immunity/resistance, having lived through the prior swine flu mini-epidemic and also the Asian flu epidemics of the 60s).

So my concern was relatively unfounded and I should have taken my mom's "There's really nothing to worry about" to heart. It's just, I think, because I'm a fundamentally healthy person, I tend to over-react when someone I care about has serious-seeming symptoms and ESPECIALLY when an ER visit is involved (but where else would he go on a Saturday afternoon? And with the way he was feeling, it was wise not to wait until his doctor was back in on Monday).

***

Still, I did get the start of a new Clapotis out of it. The nice thing about this is it can be a "put it aside to work on more complex things" project because it's easy to determine by counting (even without a row counter) where you are in the pattern.

The yarn is Louisa Harding's "Impression," which is mostly a polyamide ribbon yarn with a thin strand of mohair wrapping it to give it a "halo" effect.

I think I said before I generally don't like ribbon yarns, but I take that back for this one. It behaves well (doesn't fold up on itself like some ribbon yarns) and it feels nice, and it's very very lightweight (which will make for a nice summertime stole). And it's a very pretty color.



Alas, the pictures don't do it justice. The colorway was what Elann described as "rose garden," it's a mix of several greens (one that shows up as almost turquoise in this photo) and pink and a deep purplish red.

And it's shiny. It has an iridescence to it (which doesn't show up in the photo) that reminds me a bit of the plumage on ruby-throated hummingbirds. So it's a really lovely yarn to work with, and may make the best Clapotis yet.

I had originally bought this yarn, very cheaply, from Elann (which actually I think has been the main source of yarns I've used over the years - again, for the non-knitting audience, this is a mail-order place in Washington State/Canada (they have dual offices for customs reasons) that does deep discounts on close-out or overstock yarn, plus they have their own line of "basic" yarns (I like their Highland Wool. I know some people complain about it and it does pill a bit easily, but it comes in such a huge range of colors). The stock changes fast and they post new stock on Mondays and Thursdays (and sometimes Tuesdays) so it's worth checking it out often.

I had originally bought the "Impression" (about 750 yards' worth) for a scarf and winter hat, but decided against that idea later on. Then, a while back, while sorting through the stash, I found it and realized, to my delight, that I had enough for a Clapotis shawl. (Which I have made two of before, but there are some patterns that are just so good that it's worth having multiples in different colors. I feel the same way about the SitCom Chic sweater - I have knit three, and I have yarn put aside for at least one more).

So Saturday night, when I needed some comfort knitting, it was the first thing I thought of. And I'm happy I did, because I think it will be particularly nice when it's done. And that initial bit of knitting did help me to remain calm (Well, at least until I went to bed. Any time I have something weighing on my mind, the worst possible time is that first 15 or 20 minutes after getting in to bed - and also that time around 2 am when I usually wake up for a while (actually, the 2 am time is almost worse, because if you first get into bed and your brain won't shut up, it seems reasonable to get up and watch some cartoons or Weather Channel, but getting out of bed at 2 am feels like throwing in the towel on sleep for me).

No news. My mom told me that if she (or if both of them; I have no idea if the problem was severe enough to warrant a hospital stay) got home at a "reasonable" hour last night, she'd call. (I normally go to bed around 9:30).

I tried calling shortly before 11 and got no answer, so I guess they were still there (some 4 1/2 hours after she called). I'm hoping it means that the conclusion was it was something relatively minor, and the Big Scary Problems that Happen To People on Saturday Evenings took precedence in triage.

I'm HOPING that no call = it's a relatively minor thing. (I suppose it could have been bronchitis instead of pneumonia. Or two totally unrelated things - asthma and kidney stones coming back, for example (he had kidney stones earlier this summer)

I'm HOPING she calls this morning. (If she hasn't by 8:30 or so - I think that's late enough to be kind, even if they were out very late - I'm going to call).

I did not sleep well last night. Or rather, I slept, but had bad dreams. Not dreams related to illness, but dreams like I was a spy trying to escape people who wanted to kill me, and was trying to find a place to hide in a crowded laboratory (it finally wound up being one of the cabinets, but just as I closed the door to it, I saw the door of the room open...).

I did start a new project last night. I had been knitting on the sleeve of the Airy Cardigan but as I was approaching the point where I had to pay attention to sleeve length and start thinking about sleeve cap, I didn't want to be distracted and trying to work on it. And for some reason, I couldn't pick up any of the (many) other current projects.

So I dug some Louisa Harding "Impression" out of my stash (this, my children, is why you HAVE a stash) and started yet another Clapotis. Because I can practically knit that in my sleep. And I can pray while I knit on it.

And I admit, it was also a fairly superstitious choice. The first Clapotis I ever knit, I was working on when my dad was diagnosed with early-stage cancer - and he wound up being cured of that....



Oh, thank God. She just called (7:15 am). They're home. My mom sounds really tired. She said they didn't get home until 11:15 pm. But it's THEY - they are both home, he did not have to stay at the hospital. He had a nebulizer treatment, and lots of tests, they found no signs of pulmonary embolism (he's on coumadin so they worried about bleeds in the lungs) or advanced pneumonia.

But they think it might be "beginning" pneumonia or bronchitis, so he's being treated for that (treatment is the same). They gave him antibiotics and put him on steroids to help him breathe (which also helped him be able to walk out to the car). He's got an inhaler and all kinds of other stuff to treat the symptoms.

Oh, man. Oh, I'm grateful this turned out to be minor. I managed not to start crying while talking to my mom, but I think I'm going to indulge in it a little bit now.

"Knit on, with confidence and hope..."

I hope.

My mom called a bit ago; my dad is going to the hospital with severe wheezing and a temperature (without the temperature, the assumption would be asthma attack). They think it might be pneumonia. This apparently came on pretty fast.

She tells me not to worry. I almost certainly still will.

Their 50th wedding anniversary is Monday; I hate to think of him being in the hospital for that. (Or, of me making a fast run up there because it's something really serious).

If I don't post for several days during the week next week it's that I've had to make an emergency trip to Illinois. But I hope and pray it does not come to that.

Oh. Just two more things*:

1. I guess I should be glad that the vast majority of the papers are literate. The students, even if their critical-thinking skills aren't perfect, CAN at least write coherent sentences. And some of the papers are pretty well organized. And some of them did find decent research - even if I don't necessarily accept that something tried in Sweden will work as well here, or that eliminating a few cupcakes at school will undo the harm of a large many meals from a drive-through window, still, they did go looking for stuff.

2. I decided to order an electric kettle from Amazon. Found one that was cheaper and yet nicer (in terms of features) than the one I rejected at the Mart of Wal. It should arrive Tuesday.

Amazon "Prime" is one of the best investments in my own happiness that I ever made.

Probably I should also consider getting a second water-filtration pitcher to filter the tap water; it seems very hard in this building.

(* I may wear a rumpled trench coat but I will never carry around an unlit cigar. And yeah, I've been known to dig around in my pockets looking for notes I wrote to myself.)

Argh. Apparently it was a UPS screw up. When the package reaches New Hampshire, it will be re-sent USPS.

So now I get to wait another week, maybe more. Sigh.

(And now, if I ever order from Keepsake again, I have to REMIND them to ship USPS. Powell's Books, back when I was having UPS issues when I lived in the apartment, put a NOTE IN MY FILE so I didn't have to remind them. Is it really that hard to do that?)

Customer service person does not know. Insists package was sent USPS. I am now listening to Boccherini's "Minuet" (Professor Marcus and others pretending to play their instruments...) as hold music.

Gah. how frustrating.

Oh, and the nice* cherry on the sundae** of this week?

The quilt fabric I ordered from Keepsake Quilting made it as far as Hugo via UPS and NOW IS BEING SENT BACK TO NEW HAMPSHIRE.

What the heck, UPS? I hope it wasn't a "but she wasn't home when I came by" issue; you leave my Amazon packages with no problems.

Grr. I guess I have to e-mail or call Keepsake (when they open up) and find out what is going on. But, crud. I was looking forward to having that on my doorstep this afternoon.

(*being sarcastic)
(**being EXTRA sarcastic)

And yeah, yeah, intellectually I know: I'm not a cow. But the intellectual and the emotional are not always 100% in accord.

And at the risk of being a bit TMI, it does seem - or at least to me - that there's some kind of a relationship between the shifting levels of lady-hormones and perception of one's body as "ok" vs. "not ok."

I became very self-conscious of my shoulders (it sometimes happens for an isolated body part) yesterday afternoon, and was all, "Why do I have such giant shoulders? Why? Why do I have to look like a 1950s era linebacker? It makes me look so butch; I don't want to look butch, waaa"

Lynn: I also HATE that phrase. Because it seems like it comes mostly from the lips of insufferably smug people who are SURE they are right, even when they probably aren't.

And dangit, I forgot to wear lipstick again today. I set it out to put on when I went to brush my teeth after breakfast and then forgot it.

And Charles, on the whole position paper issue: this is a service class, meaning my opinion counts only 1/5 or so of what we should do. Given my druthers, I'd not have 'em. The AIM is for the students to research and provide supporting evidence and write a reasoned argument; what we get is half-baked opinions and citations from websites like TMZ. (I also have issues with the attendance policy and have already told the students I will not count them absent if they have H1N1 and do not come to class. I don't want to get sick).

The problem is, 18 to 20 year olds are, by and large, pretty ill-informed about the world but are exceptionally sure that they know just what's right. I remember being that age. I was going to make over the bad old world and it was going to be BETTER. But eventually you mature out of it. Or at least one hopes you do. But reading these papers - I just got done with one that makes me wonder if the guy in question sees me as a giant cow worthy of ridicule - there's really not a lot of LEARNING that goes on there.

(I suppose really what it is, is they just don't know how to do this. They're doing the sort of "look into the mirror of your soul" paper they were taught in high school and it is my unfortunate task to try to snap them out of that mindset by bleeding all over their papers and hoping at least a few will read my comments and take them to heart. But it's not pleasant.)

(interestingly, all of the papers so far that have said, "It is kind of ridiculous to ban birthday cupcakes in school; children need to learn that occasional treats are OK and we should not be setting our kids up to fear food" OR papers with reasonable research and evidence for their position have all come from my "non-traditional" (over 22 years of age) students.)

I used to give factual homework assignments: "Here are some genetics problems. Figure them out." or "Here is a name of an endangered species. Research it and write up where it lives, what its ecological role is, and why scientists think it became endangered." Personally, I think those worked better, but the general way of thinking is we have to "engage" students more, which apparently in some cases means allowing them further omphaloskepsis and allowing them to persist in whatever preconceived notions they have.

So, grr. I'm having to pace myself on these papers to keep from feeling a certain despair.

And I have to say - while I'm dishing about a class - I'm really not a fan of the textbook. It's issues-oriented, and likes to do things to "grab" people. So it's almost like every chapter, there's the question: "Are we screwed?" And the chapter answers: "Yes, yes we are." The one on diet and nutrition (with its pages of loving detail about Teh Diabeeetus and heart disease and BMI and its briefer mention of "oh yeah, if you're an anorexic you could die too") is the worst one, but the next one (global climate change) is not much more cheerful. I suppose perhaps the students are reflecting the book's general pessimistic tone in their papers and that's what I'm getting. I'll be happier once we move on to genetics.

I also pulled one of the big muscles in my upper back this morning. While trying to de-cow-if-y myself on the cross-country ski exerciser, I had an allergic coughing fit. Because of the position I was in (and because I was foolish enough and driven enough to keep going), I pulled a muscle. So now every movement hurts.

(OK, I take part of that back. It was probably actually a muscle cramp because it is considerably better now. Or the Advil I took kicked in and is doing a better job than it usually does.)

(and yeah, yeah, I know: but I go through periods of probably over-active self-consciousness about my body. Right now I do feel kind of like a giant cow. I wish I was one of those tiny women who looked so delicate and ethereal, like the fairy princesses in paintings, instead of looking like the peasant goatherd who clomped on the scene.)

And I'm still coughing. I guess the cold front that finally came through stirred up some pollen.

And, while I'm complaining: I tried to buy an electric kettle yesterday. Tried. I went to the Main Purveyor of Such Items in my town (a/k/a The Mart of Wal).

They had 15 varieties of coffeemakers, including 2 espresso makers. They had one electric tea kettle. Not one brand, nor one variety - ONE. One box on the shelf. And it looked like it had either been dropped or returned - the box was all bashed up and the stuff inside was kind of jumbled up. So I didn't buy it. And I didn't buy the tea and new-for-my-office tea mug I was thinking of buying either.

There's not really an Alternate Purveyor of Such Items in my town - I won't buy electrical items at the dollar stores, heard too many stories of stuff imported on the gray market that has dodgy safety features - so unless I drive to Sherman or mail order, I'm out of luck.

I guess I'll try ordering one off of Amazon. But somehow that incident just confirms something for me about The Mart of Wal: It's great if you're a mainline-taste sort of person. But if you want something even a bit unusual, forget it.

I'm slowly working through "Jacquard's Web" (a book on the history of computing, drawing links between the Jacquard loom - a loom that used punched cards to weave figured silk - and more modern machines, up to and including the computer).

I have to admit I like the sciency stuff and the "how these things work" part better than the gossip about the inventor's lives.

(Did you know Ada Lovelace - Lord Byron's daughter and a fairly bright woman [though, according to this book's author, not the super-genius she is made out to be by the Steampunkers] was fond of sex? Trufax: "And there was the physical side of marriage. Ada took to it with relish. Several letters she wrote to [her husband]...make clear how much she enjoyed love-making." Um, yeah. I think I could do without knowing THAT.)

Right now I'm about 2/3 of the way through, reading about the early days of IBM (and its precursor. I would LOVE to be able to see a Hollerith Tabulator - used to compile information in the 1890 census - yes, there was a mechanical computer of sorts used that early - in action, because it sounds both beautiful and fascinating.

And then there's Thomas John Watson, one of the early leaders of IBM. I knew nothing about the man. He is presented as a master salesman, and comes across at first as perhaps the original Pointy-Haired Boss:

"Hollerith [the originator of the tabulating machine] regarded engineers as backroom boys who worked best when they were left alone. Watson, on the other hand, was quick to take engineers out of the laboratory and into customers' offices to find out precisely what functions and features customers needed...Watson chased his engineers back into customers' premises again to deal with any problems the customer might be having..."

I dunno, but based on the (small number of) engineers I have known, many of them went into that field precisely to reduce interactions-with-customers.

Watson also ran C-T-R (a precursor to IBM) in a way that is eerily reminiscent of some of the "modern" corporate stuff that I am so eager to avoid by being in academe:

"There were company flags, endless group photographs of everybody being cheerful together, a daily company newspaper, banquets at horseshoe tables, and even company songs" (emphasis mine)

AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHH! Jean-Paul Sartre, I may have just found an alternate version of Hell for you to write about.

(Watson also required all employees to have the word "THINK" posted on placards in their offices. The Think System?)

But, just as I'm hating him for being pointy-haired, he redeems himself: In the Great Depression, rather than releasing all his engineers and salesmen and others to the bread lines as many other corporations did, he chose to keep them working and on the payroll. They kept building machines because of Watson's belief that things would turn around. (And when they did, he was one of the few equipped to provide customers - including the US government - with tabulating machines). Perhaps this is in part the origin of the much-lauded and now-long-gone "loyalty" of companies to their workers. (It wasn't so much an altruistic decision - at least not how the book's author presents it - as a canny gamble that paid off very well. But still).

But my favorite parts of the book remain the descriptions of the machines and how they worked. There were electromechanical calculators and computers before there were electronic ones! There were things like adding machines where you set cogs to the values you were inputting and then turned a crank to make it work the arithmetic! There was a thing called an arithmometer, and another called a comptometer! It's such a vanished time - one you never hear about in a "typical" history class, and yet it was not so long ago. And what if electronics had not been discovered? Would we be accessing the internet on room-sized machines that we had to (maybe) power with foot-treadles like old-time sewing machines? It boggles the mind.

There's a book out there called something like "The Victorian Internet" (I think it's about the telegraph). I want to read that some time. I find the history of modern technology pretty fascinating.

Argh. Reading student "position papers" on "should sweet treats like cupcakes be banned from schools, in light of childhood obesity issues" is playing on all MY issues right now.

How can people so young be so blue-nosed? Honestly? Children should NEVER be allowed to eat cupcakes? Lunch ladies who are overweight should be fired b/c they set "a bad example"?

It's always good to have a simple project going on.

It works for times when you're too tired to worry about counting or shaping. It works when you're trying to pay attention to something else. And it also works for reading, if you can knit and read.



The textbook I'm supposed to review a chapter of came. (They were supposed to e-mail me the chapter, then their e-mail tanked for a couple days, so the person in charge just sent me a book by overnight UPS. I don't know if they'll want it back so I'm not writing my notes about the chapter in it. If they don't want it back, I'll keep it - it's more advanced than what I would use with my intro class, but if I ever got called upon to teach either a graduate-level Advanced Ecology or a graduate-level Community Ecology class, it might work. We don't have enough advanced/grad students for a class like that now, but that doesn't mean we never will.)

So I'm reading and knitting on yet another pair of simple socks. These are by Deborah Norville's (yes, that Deborah Norville) sock yarn. A new line called "Serenity." (I'm sure it's designed to compete with the Vanna inspired line that Lion Brand has).

It's actually pretty nice yarn considering how economical it is. It has some bamboo in it, which makes it very soft (and allegedly bamboo has moisture-wicking and antibacterial properties). There's also some wool (the majority is wool) and some nylon for strength.

These are just simple socks - 2 x 2 ribbing down the leg, and then on the top of the foot. I know that finished sock looks very skinny, but 2 x 2 ribbing is stretchy. And I have to admit I prefer socks that stretch, because of the ribbing, to fit just right, over plain-knit socks that bag. Even if the ribbing does take a little longer to knit.

I started these back earlier this summer but didn't work very much on them, being more drawn (when I had time and attention) to more complex projects.

The color is called "Paprika" though it doesn't really make me think of paprika. (There is one place - you might see it on the finished sock - where the pink stripe is really super narrow. There was a knot in the ball of the yarn and it also had a "blip" in the color sequence. Oh well. I had that happen in a ball of Noro sock yarn that I paid a whole lot more for, so I'm not going to complain.

Seen on anther knitblogger's website: 15 rules (They say "for girls to live by" and I suppose some are female-specific. Unless you're the type of chap who wears lipstick, that is).

Not sure I agree with all of them, but a few selected ones:

"4. If more than three people are rushing off to do something and it’s not an organized sport, stop, take a minute, and decide for yourself: Do you really want to do anything with this pack of people?"

Yes. I have been served well in life by not automatically going, "Yeah, sure, I'll come along too! It'll be fun!"

"8. It is not possible to be too funny. Don’t envy others’ abilities to make people laugh. Work on your own funny voice. You have one."

YES. I've said one of the traits I find most attractive in a person (as a potential friend, or a guy as a potential guy-friend) is the ability to make me laugh. I don't mean the kind of mean, snarky, "If you don't have anything nice to say...well, sit next to me, honey" attitude, but a genuine humor, an ability to realize that life is pretty much absurd and sometimes the best way to survive is to laugh at it.

"10. If it seems like a bad idea, it is."

Trusting my gut has saved me from all manner of bad trouble.

(But conversely: "6. If you fear it, try it. And we don’t mean merely piercing. Try out for the play, speak truth to someone in power, get help for a problem, say no to someone who wants to do something with your body that you’re not sure you want to do." Sometimes I do tend to be a bit too passive or avoidant)

"15. Here’s the secret to self-esteem: It begins and ends in how you are spoken to. And the fundamental voice you need to listen to is your own. Speak to yourself the way you would speak to your best friend."

I am so guilty of not speaking to myself like I was speaking to my best friend. So guilty of mentally yelling at myself while exercising for not going faster or working harder. So guilty of telling myself "you could have been working on something meaningful" when I was daydreaming or knitting or writing on the blog. I don't always know how to be kind to myself. I'm more prone to speak to myself like a DI speaking to a raw recruit than a friend speaking to a friend. Perhaps that's why I so much seek the approval of others: because I don't always give it to myself.

"3. Wear lipstick. It feels great, and it’s fun, and all too often we depend on other people to make us feel good and show us a good time. Get yourself some lipstick, and every time you apply it, remember that this is one of your rules of life: to show yourself a good time, in your shade, on your terms."

This probably fits in with #15 somehow. I often forget to wear lipstick, even though I know it does make me look less pale.

Thanks all. (Illyrsdaughter: thanks. I had kind of figured that's what they meant. I probably do do better than a lot of people. I probably still exceed the "guidelines" on added sugars, but not greatly. Especially since I don't really care for pop - so I usually drink water when I'm thirsty.)

Hopefully today will be better. Actually, it reached the point midafternoon yesterday where all the mess-ups and missed communications ceased to be annoying and began to be somewhere between funny and surreal. Kind of like one of the old Laurel and Hardy shorts where you can't quite BELIEVE that stupid thing is going to happen to them, yet you also KNOW that it is - and it does. (Or sometimes something even WORSE happens)

Perhaps I got my quota of stupid annoyances for the next two months out of the way yesterday. One can only hope.

***

Anyway. One of the best ways I know of dealing with having had a frustrating day is to go home and cook something nutritious and good for dinner. This seems counter-intuitive, as it does take time, and it dirties a lot of dishes, and it makes more of a mess than a simple salad or a bowl of cereal would.

But there's something therapeutic for me in chopping vegetables or mixing stuff. And there's the thought that the world can't be too badly messed up if I can still successfully cook dinner.

So I tried a new recipe last night. This is a modification of one from the most recent Eating Well magazine. I like Eating Well fairly well - I could maybe do with a bit less smugness in some of the editorial writing, and I'd like to see more of the recipes readily made cut-downable (Oh, and fewer "exotic" ingredients I'd have to mail-order). But most of the stuff I've tried from the magazine has been good, and, as you might guess from the title, you can be pretty assured that the food meets nutritional guidelines.

What I made was a stir fry. I'm calling it Protein.* stir-fry (in light of the old Windows search convention). The original calls for pork. I used chicken breast, which was good. I think tofu would also be excellent in this dish. You could probably use lean beef, as well, but I'm not sure how it would work with the sauce - I think you need something a bit more neutral flavored.

I also ate mine over rice rather than the recommended rice noodles or soba noodles. (I'm not even sure I've SEEN soba noodles at my local grocery stores). Rice just seemed easier somehow.

I also used Napa cabbage rather than the called-for bok choy. Because I could not find bok choy in the larger of the two grocery stores I usually shop in (and I assume the smaller one - being even more provincial - would not have it). But the napa seemed a reasonable substitute. Though, next time, I'd use a greater amount, as I was not prepared for how much it would cook down.

So. Here it is, "for two," though I dished up half the amount it made, ate three-quarters, and decided "no mas" - any more and I would have been too full (so I put it away with the rest of the leftovers). I think you could easily get three servings out of this, or four, if you served something like a nice fruit salad along with it to fill in a little.

First, prepare the noodles or rice so it will be ready.

1/2 pound to 3/4 pound protein item of choice, cut into slender matchstick pieces

1/2 pound Napa cabbage, cut similarly (including "ribs." The "ribs" of napa are actually pretty good)

a small onion, cut similarly.

(I have read that in some forms of Asian cooking, there is a principle called "harmony of cut" - where it is considered aesthetically pleasing for food to be sliced into similar sized and shaped pieces. So for once, I resisted my tendency to dice the onion into near microscopic pieces - because I normally hate big globs of onion in stuff. But this time, the bigger pieces were OK, because they did cook thoroughly.)

1 chopped clove of garlic

3 T water
1 T reduced-sodium soy sauce
1 teaspoon corn starch
1/8 cup dry sherry (you can also use rice wine, it says. I had sherry on hand)

Mix the water, soy sauce, and sherry in a bowl and stir in the corn starch. Set aside.

Heat about 1/2 T oil (I used "light" olive oil) in a large skillet or fry pan (you may need more oil if it's a large pan. And a wok would work even better if you had one). Put the onions in. Cook, stirring, for 3 minutes or so. Then add the napa cabbage. Cook and stir for 5 minutes or so. Next, add the garlic and the protein.

Finally, add 1/2 Tablespoon of "chili garlic" sauce. (a/k/a sriracha*)

Then, cook and stir for 3 to 4 minutes until the protein is cooked through. (Tofu, you'd probably cook less time. Maybe 2 minutes).

Re-stir the cornstarch mixture, add it to the pan. Let it come to a boil and stir until the sauce thickens, maybe 4-5 minutes.

Serve over rice or noodles.

(*I actually used a brand called "Aroma Kitchen" (heh). I bought it because, I admit, the "real" sriracha scared me a little. The difference between the two...the real sriracha, sitting on the store shelf, looked to me like the tomcat snarling in the back of the cage at the animal shelter, and the Aroma Kitchen brand was the kitten falling over its own feet. Or maybe, it's like when a girl first starts noticing boys and thinking about dating them, she goes for the nonthreatening, kind-of-nerdy guy with glasses and a forelock of hair that falls down over his face and who has a silly sense of humor, instead of the brooding wanna-bee delinquent who wears a denim jacket he's written band names all over on in Sharpie and who is saving up for a motorcycle. Or maybe that was just me. Anyway, I bought the less-threatening looking brand**.)

And I have to say: sriracha, where have you been all my life? I know, I avoided you because you were "spicy," and I didn't like "spicy" things. But really - used judiciously, it is incredibly good - yes, it's spicy, but it is also garlicy and not-quite-tomatoey-but-sort-of (I think that's the chilis) and it just adds something to food. So I think I will use it again, and not just for this recipe.

Because this recipe - well, it was outstandingly good. I figured it would be fine, I can usually judge a recipe by reading it. Though I have had a few Food Defcon 3 adventures where something came out just "wrong" and I couldn't finish eating it.

But this one...oh, my goodness, delicious. Definitely one I will make again. And it's not that hard or time-consuming.

(**truth be told, I still prefer the sort-of-nerdy guys with silly senses of humor to the brooding types)

The original recipe can be found here.

Argh, what a day.

I had a student come in all freaked out at me because another faculty member was not where he was supposed to be. Because I apparently have sufficient mind-control powers to (a) know where all my colleagues are at all times and (b) can make them show up when they're not here.

Then I had a colleague (my newest colleague, new this fall, so she gets a pass) come with the issue of a student who had been enrolled in a class after the official add deadline. Except, whoops, the person (not in our department) who enrolled her didn't enroll her in lab, too. What to do? I tried the on-computer override but it wouldn't let me, being after the add period, so (with TWO MINUTES before my class) I took her down to the office and helped her get the stuff she needed to go beg tell the registrar to let her in. (And went running into class a minute late, out of breath, and distracted).

THEN I took the AAUW yearbook over to be copied. Got the LAST parking space anywhere on central campus, but had to wedge myself between two cars that were on the line of their respective spaces (luckily, no one came out and "doored" me while I was in the copy shop). THEN I dropped the cover of the booklet. And, mirabile dictu, even though there had been NO breeze up to that moment, a puff of wind came, grabbed it, and started carrying it across the parking lot. So, to the amusement of the construction workers behind me, and saying some rather unladylike words, I chased it down (without stepping on it to secure it; I didn't want to explain to the ladies why there was a size 7 1/2 footprint on the cover of their yearbook) and took it in to copy it.

And THEN I realized as I was eating lunch that if I wanted to have a prayer of getting a 50th anniversary card to my parents in time for their anniversary, I better send it today. Unfortunately, the card shop is on the street where they are now doing construction. But at least I got a card and it's on its way now.

Finally, on my way back to campus, I managed to secure a spot close to the campus health service (I'm supposed to get an allergy shot today). "Please please please," I prayed, in direct contravention to my You Should Not Pray For Piddly Stuff dictum, "please let the campus nurse not be at lunch, or let her be back from lunch. You know how much easier this would make my life."

Nope. I missed her by "just five minutes." So I get to try going back at 3:30, when sports practice has started, and there's no spot within 300 yards of the health service. (And it's really miserably sticky and humid here; the kind of day where I begin to wonder if my physical fitness is in retrograde because I get winded walking up a small hill.)

So, argh. I'm still cranky. And I caught myself measuring the sugar I ate at lunch because of that stupid AHA guideline I heard about. I had a total of 7 grams in the peanut butter sandwich (2 each from each slice of bread; at least the bread I use claims to be HFCS free, and 3 from the peanut butter). One teaspoon (um, four grams, I think?) in my tea (Dammit, I am NOT giving that up. Sorry. So I won't live to be 95.) None in the pickled baby corn, but they contain Demon Salt, not Demon Sugar. An apple - I have no idea how many but I'm not counting it because surely they don't want us to eliminate fruit from our diets? (But I'm bound for another Nutritional Purgatory there; it was an out-of-season apple which means it's trucked in from God knows where. And it wasn't that good, anyway. I miss "real" apples, like the new crop that comes in the fall)

And, um, yeah. A couple pieces of toffee. Probably another 2-3 teaspoons there. But I had to make a Semi-Scary Phone Call, and I felt like I needed it.

I don't know. Maybe if I actually did sit down and measure I'd find I actually do better than most people. I don't drink pop (Well, ALMOST NEVER drink pop - I might have a ginger ale once or twice a month). I generally eat fairly plain food. I tend to avoid much processed stuff. But yeah, I like a spoon of sugar in chai tea, and I like a piece of candy or a cookie now and then.

And I don't know. I see these guidelines and stuff, and how they make it sound like we're all one slice of pizza away from keeling over and needing an XXL coffin, and I just wonder. I wonder about my grandmother, who ate PIE for breakfast. And who always took sugar in her coffee. And who lived to be 92. Or my great-uncle, who made it to 101 and who loved candy.

And I wonder, is it preferable to me to make myself crazy and listen to and try to follow every dang recommendation to the point where I'm eating food that tastes like nothing, because all of the typical "flavor enhancers" we've used for 1000 years or so have been taken out? Or would I rather live a shorter life but one where I'm not obsessing about everything I put in my mouth?

(And no, I'm not going to use artificial sweetener. Perhaps it's illogical of me but I do not trust it. I expect they'll find in another 10 years or so that it's about a million times worse for you than sugar is.)

I mean, heck, it's probably too late for me anyway. I will admit, as a child, that I occasionally sneaked the sugar cubes my mom kept for when friends came over for coffee (she takes her coffee black) and ate them, whole. Straight, pure, white sugar. (It's a wonder I'm not dead yet, I guess). And I ate all manner of disgusting penny candy, including Gobstoppers, which I think I only liked because I was intrigued by how they changed color. And sweet-tarts. And those rings that had a big "jewel" that was a giant lump of hard candy - artificial color AND flavor. And Bit-O-Honeys, even when they'd sat in the warm car all afternoon and I couldn't quite peel all the paper off. (And I still ate them even after my friend Trina told me a story about how one of her friends found a dead bee stuck in her Bit-O-Honey.)

Besides, I think, when I have to put up with all that I enumerated in the first part of this post, really, it's asking too much of me to worry about the fact that yes, I still do like (and occasionally eat) Bit-O-Honeys.

(And secretly, I admit it: I'm hoping someday to find a bee smashed in mine. Because that would at least be proof they're using real honey in it. And maybe if I sent it to the company, they'd send me a free one.)

I'm cranky this morning.

A big part of it was that I took part in A Volunteer Effort last night and as I was the youngest/most able-bodied (there was another woman not that far off my age, but she dislocated her shoulder a week or so ago) person, I wound up doing most of the heavy lifting. So now my shoulders hurt, because a lot of it was not just lifting, it was lifting and HOLDING or lifting over my head.

It's also still hot - or perhaps I should say, hot again, here. Somehow heat indexes of 110* feel hotter now than they did earlier this summer.

I also received AN IMPORTANT DOCUMENT that I must read in a Word 2007 format - after having expressly told the sender I still have Word 2003 and cannot open 2007 documents. I tried downloading the "compatability pack" but it's giving me an error message. And I'm loath to screw too much with my computer. So I'm going to have to go down to the student computer lab with it on my flashdrive to read it. Argh.

(ETA: it was a letter stating, "If you have official acceptance of your paper, congratulations. Otherwise, please get the revisions in by such and such a date." No new information. Here I thought - from the tone of the e-mail accompanying it - it was going to be something like a "sign this form to sign copyright over to us" or one of the other bits of boilerplate without which a paper cannot be published. Well, that was a waste of five minutes.)

I'm also cranky because - well, I just need to stop listening to local news, because this morning it featured both "Oh noes! Women should eat NO MORE THAN 100 calories worth of sugar in a day!!" (hello? Does that include sugar like naturally occurs in fruit, or sugar like what you put in coffee or tea?). Of course, men get a whole 50 calories extra. What? I'm taller and more muscular than some of the men I know, yet they're allowed more sugar just by virtue of their Y chromosome? It's not fair.

I am so flipping sick and tired of every day being told that yet one more of the little comforts of life is going to kill me dead and it's somehow my duty to avoid it. We'll all look pretty stupid for having scourged and flagellated ourselves, and run five miles a day, when an asteroid hits the earth in 2014 or whatever and takes us all out.

Just you wait. They will find some way to make reading hazardous to your health. Or doing crafts. Or singing in church. Or something.

The other thing that makes me cranky is that there's a big scandal in a police department in a city to the west of me. And one of the local news channels thinks it's cool to show how bad this scandal is by having one of their reporters camp out in the offices of the police department for like five minutes of nearly-dead air just looking at the door that's been slammed in her face.

I maintain that local news could be cut down to a 15 minute segment - the local headlines, weather, and maybe sports scores- and cut out all the junk, and then show 45 minutes of cartoons for the rest of the time that's devoted to local news, and we'd all be happier.

Except cartoons are probably bad for your health.

If I trusted the Weather Channel's forecasts (I don't; they're often wrong for my area) I'd just watch them.

Thanks for the advice.

I think part of the issue Sunday night was that those two boys are good friends - they have a history of getting in trouble together (I think they have to be put in separate classes at school), and it was just a messy critical-mass sort of thing.

My co-leader and I tried to force the one kid to go to hear the band but finally gave up, realizing that we could have continued to argue with him the whole time they were playing. His grandmother - with whom he lives - is aware of the issue and will deal with it. (I trust she will. She has before).

It's probably also back-to-school craziness; they have been in school just over a week and I suppose things are still settling down.

The other thing is, I have to remember not to take stuff personally. Typically, when teens are being thoughtless, they are LITERALLY being thoughtless - that is, they are NOT THINKING of the other person.

(And I have verified that, when we've had discussions about thoughtless behavior before. Eventually they will learn).

The problem is, sometimes I interpret "thoughtless" behavior as "intentionally" thoughtless, rather than "literally" thoughtless - as in "this person knows what pushes my buttons and they're doing that thing specifically because they know it bugs me."

And I don't think it's that. I did enough stupid literally-thoughtless stuff as a teenager - even as a very obedient, generally-pretty-compassionate teenager, I did stuff that now makes me want to dope-slap myself and go "Why? Why did you say that thing to that person?" or "Why did you do that thing? That was idiotic and hurt that person's feelings." But that's what teenagers ARE sometimes, I'm afraid. They don't think.

(Sometimes, college students even don't think. When I've gotten on some of my students for doing something monumentally unsafe in lab, and in my frustration blurted, "What on EARTH were you THINKING when you did that?" at them, they kind of look startled, shrug, and go, "I guess I wasn't thinking." Thank God we haven't blown the building up yet...)

But anyway. Two steps forward, one step back. And I really don't think I could talk anyone else into taking it; when I've made noises about that before people all talk about what a "wonderful" job I'm doing (which is really code for, "Let's flatter her as much as possible because I don't want to take on the job")

As for other volunteers, I've pretty much given up. It's me and my co-leader. We've had others help along the way, but something always "comes up" and they stop coming. It's never that "the kids are awful and I can't stand them" or "I don't feel like I'm doing a good job." It's always, "I'm tired." or "I have work stuff." or "But I get so few evenings off otherwise." What-ever. So I stop asking. Because it's almost worse to have someone act all excited to volunteer and then stop showing up after a month, than it is to know you are pretty much doing it alone.


So anyway. Sometimes I think the only way you know you're doing volunteer work "right" is if you want to quit it periodically.

****

I finished another little thing. This was in the bag with the Airy Cardigan. I had tucked it in there after hitting a dilemma with it.

It was supposed to be the One Drop Scarf - knit and knit and knit in 1 x 1 rib, and then in the last row, drop the seventh stitch and ladder it down.

But as I progressed, I realized I couldn't bring myself to "ruin" the symmetry of the ribbing by dropping that stitch. And then I decided I didn't really NEED another plain, grey-ish scarf - seeing as I already have a nicer one knit of some long-discontinued Noro yarn that has both camel hair and angora in it.

So I tucked it away.

Then, when I found it again, I remembered the "Red Scarf Project" (and the fact that the scarves need not be RED, as long as they are a nice unisex color)

Well, this scarf fits the dimensions (at least 6" wide and at least 60" long) and the color requirement. But, two things may be sticking points:

1. it is exceptionally plain. Just 1 x 1 ribbing. It's not a nice cabled scarf or one with a fancy stitch pattern. Might not someone be disappointed getting this plain of a scarf as a gift?

2. It's a fairly heavy chunky wool, and I know the Project prefers worsted or thinner.

So I don't know. I suppose I could e-mail Norma or whoever-it-is that is the blogger that kind of has this as her personal project, and see if the scarf is even acceptable. (I don't want to sent it in and have them not be able to use it). If not, maybe I can find some group that can use it. (Locally, they don't do things like scarf drives; it rarely gets truly cold enough for that. So I probably will wind up mailing it off somewhere).

Here it is, for what it's worth. (Maybe I should have dropped that stitch. But I just COULDN'T.)

This is going to be kind of long and rambly. I will put the most difficult stuff at the end, I think.

****

I did make the Senate Bean Soup this weekend. (I also made bread, but used the bread machine. I've been having some elbow issues - overuse, I think, coupled with the high pressure we've had - so I thought kneading might be unwise. The elbow is better this morning; I think all of the mouse-and-click needed for revising a paper on Friday was what stressed it).

The soup was good, but perhaps a bit bland compared to what I'm used to.

Here's the recipe, I will note possible modifications at the end.

Senate Bean Soup ("for 2*")

(*Despite all the hysteria about PORTION SIZES HAVE GOTTEN TOO BIG AND THAT IS WHY PEOPLE ARE TEH FATZ, I find when I cook from older cookbooks (this one is from 1959) a lot of the "serves howevermany" suggestion actually seems like pretty huge portion sizes. I'd say this could serve four pretty easily).

1/2 lb small white navy beans
1/2 lb. ham hocks (or, in my case, 1 t "ham soup base")
1 small onion, chopped finely
1 quart water.

Rinse the beans well, discard any "bad" beans or stones. Put the beans and water and either hamhocks or soup base together in a saucepan, put on the burner. In the meantime, saute the onion in a little olive oil. When the onion is cooked, add it to the beans.

Bring to a boil. Turn the heat down and simmer until the beans are done (done = can be mashed with a fork). In my case this was about 2 hours but I think I had new-crop beans; older beans will take longer. If you used hamhocks, pick the meat off and add to the soup.

Add pepper and salt (if needed) at table.

Like I said, this was a little bland. I've seen other recipes calling for adding chopped celery (I have a food intolerance to celery, so I wouldn't use it, but you could) and instant mashed potatoes (for texture).

I think, though, next time I make something like this, I'll make a couple changes.

First, I'd use some kind of more flavorful bean. Navy beans may be traditional but they are kind of bland. Pintos might be better, or black turtle beans. (Call it maybe, "Senate with Diversity Bean Soup"? Seeing as Pinto beans are more typically used in Hispanic/Southwestern cooking, and black turtle beans in Caribbean cooking?). I do suspect pintos or turtle beans would necessitate longer cooking, or perhaps a pre-treatment of the "quick soak method" (where you boil the beans a couple minutes, then soak an hour before cooking)

I also think adding a can of those "petite diced tomatoes" (with the juice substituting for some of the water) would be better too. And maybe some fresh parsley added at the very end. And maybe adding a can (or part of a can) of corn.

One thing I like about soup is that you can play around with the recipes. Another thing I like is that you can stick a bunch of vegetables in there - and vegetables I might either never eat together, or might not even be that inclined to eat on their own (rutabagas), I will eat in a soup.

****

I've been looking at another recent-purchase book: Nancy Bush's Knitted Lace in Estonia. (Nancy Bush is a genius. But I think most knitters know that.)

She talked a little bit about the different cultures where lace shows up - the Shetlands, of course, and also parts of Russia and countries like Estonia. And it makes one wonder: What is the phylogeny of knitted lace? (or at least, it makes ME wonder).

Did it develop in one culture, and then spread via trade? Did sailors bring back these new unusual knitted items for their mothers or sweethearts, and those mothers and sweethearts look at them and think, "Why didn't I come up with that?" and then try copying it - or try coming up with their own way of doing it?

Or did it have what we would call in evolutionary biology a polyphyletic origin, where it arose independently in several different cultures?

One thing I've noticed is that some of the Scandinavian colorwork patterns (the eight pointed star, for example) resemble some of the traditional Islamic designs. Brought in by traders from the east? Brought back by returning Crusaders? (Did the Scandinavians even participate in the Crusades?)

I don't know. But it's something that intrigues me - where did all this knowledge come from? How did things we think of now as "traditional" first develop? In a pre-Internet, pre-jumbo-jet era, (even a pre-printing-press era), how did ideas move from place to place?

I think you could say that about almost any type of craftwork - lace, turning the heel on a sock, crochet, quilting, metalwork, carved designs...

****

Now the more difficult topic.

I do not know what to do about the Youth Group. Have I run my course as its leader? How will I find a replacement, if I'm not doing a sufficiently good job?

I had two kids last night. Two boys, friends, who giggled through the lesson. I stopped several times, my co-leader spoke to them. I was THIS close to getting up and saying, "I'm sorry, but if you're not interested, I can't keep teaching" and walking away.

(After group, I went home, washed my hair, played piano for 1/2 hour, read, watched some tv...and still had a hard time sleeping because it was weighing on my mind).

I interact OK with younger teenagers, I guess - or pre teens. When this current group was younger, they could be pretty adorable at times - they answered questions, they asked good questions, sometimes they said funny stuff, they interacted.

Now that some of them are older, I have certain issues:

Texting. Good God, I hate whoever invented the text message. It gives people such an easy, such a tempting way to "check out" of a group. Even a "no texting" rule, even a "phones off" rule, I'm still having to harp on people every single week.

It wears me down.

I'm also fed up with the random giggling. Did I say something funny? Is there some word I'm using for its "straight" meaning that now has a sexual meaning to teenagers? (I tend to immediately assume that the kind of barely-suppressed giggling is "She said .... uh huh, huh, huh")

I don't know. I presented the ideas of what we could do this fall (find a curriculum, do an "issues based" study where we come up with a list of issues and discuss them, do a "historical" study (what was life like in Biblical times?), do an in-depth study of a book or books of the Bible, have more interactive stuff). I'm TRYING to make this interesting for them. I'm trying.

And I realize, yeah, it's not about me. But there comes a point where you just get so worn down by the horsepucky that you want to quit.

The biggest issue I think I deal with is people not wanting to participate. In anything. When they were younger, we could do anything - go out and play kickball, play charades, sit around and talk - and everyone wanted to be a part of it. But now - people wander off to do their own thing. And what's the part of HAVING a group if they are scattered among different rooms doing different stuff?

The biggest thing that got me last night was this: some of the late 20s-30s members of the church have formed a small "praise band." They meet on Sunday nights to play together (the aim, as they point out, is NOT to take the place of hymns in Sunday services, but to have some fun on Sunday evenings). They were playing last night and suggested that we all come and take part.

One kid would NOT go. He didn't want to. He just didn't want to. Even though everyone else was in there. Even though, I felt like it was sort of impolite of him to balk so much. Even though I've pointed out that there are more people here on Sunday evenings now, and we have to learn to share our time. But no, nothing worked.

I doubt the band noticed and had their feelings hurt by his absence, but I admit mine were a bit.

I don't know. I'm not good at dealing with teenagers in the "separation" or "rebellion" phase. I was NEVER rebellious (like you would never have guessed that, eh?). I didn't go through very much of the pouting or the refusals or whatever.

I think part of it was I felt like I was SO unpopular with the other kids, and that the adults still seemed to like me, so I figured I'd throw my lot in with the adults, rather than try to fit in with the kids and have the adults mad at me and the kids still continuing to ridicule me (as they would have, I know, if I had tried to "fit in" more).

So I don't quite know what to do. And I wind up beating myself up for not being "more interesting" or "more relevant" or whatever the heck it is that teenaged kids want.

If there were someone who could do this better than I am doing, I'd give it over to them in a heartbeat. But there's no one willing to take over. It's my job for life. (One of the dirty little secrets about volunteering).

So I don't know. Maybe this week was just a bad week. Having only two people - both of whom are close friends, and so, have a "history" outside of the group and in-jokes and all of that contributed. But it's just a frustrating thing.

Maybe I just need to be patient for some of the Adored Little Kids to mature a few years...though by then I bet one of their parents takes over the youth group...and does it totally different and "so much better" than what I did.

I don't know.

The main thing I did this weekend was to pull out the long-stalled Airy Cardigan and finish the little bit left on the back shoulders.



It looks wide here but when it's on, it stretches lengthwise. The body is done except for the button band/buttonhole band and neckline edging.

I also spent a lot of time Friday night figuring and drafting and came up with what I think is a workable way of lengthening the sleeve - I started out using the number of stitches from the smallest size (I am making the fourth of I think seven sizes) and then increasing at a slower rate than I would for the 3/4 length sleeve (increasing every 5th row rather than every 4th). It seems like it's working, at least, the sleeve so far fits and it doesn't seem like it's going to be too long.



It's about half done here, if you don't count the cap as part of the sleeve. The edging - which is knit sidewise and then stitches are picked up at the top of it - is at the top.

I do like this kind of kid mohair; one of its nice qualities is that it weighs next to nothing but it is very warm. I'm motivated to finish this because if I work diligently on it now, it should be done by the time it's cool enough this fall to actually wear it.

So, I did wind up ordering the "Country Weekend Knits" book.

And now I'm glad I did. They use the funny sizing method that some "older" books use: they say "To fit chest size" and then give the finished size. And in a lot of cases, the finished size is 6 or 8 or even 10 inches greater than the chest size it is alleged to fit. Meaning something designed for a 38" (or in one case, 36") chest will fit me fine. Either the patterns count on far more positive ease than what most knitters use now, or British sizing is different.

So it's like "bra band size" sizing. Where the actual number is smaller than the greatest diameter.

Most American patterns, they give the "finished size."

A few things may be a bit small for me as written, but happily the Polperro pattern jacket, the Tree-of-Life Aran jacket, and most of the ganseys - my favorite things in the book - will be the right size.

I really like the Polperro pattern jacket. Pity I haven't any yarn on-hand in sufficient amounts for it. (It's knit of "aran weight" - which is close enough to worsted - held double, but it takes a LOT of yarn to make it)

I also find myself seized with the desire to knit an 'authentic' Guernsey sweater - that is, with the actual "five ply" yarn in that blue color, and in yarn from Britain. But I have to work down the stash a bit first before I think of that.

(Edited to add: Schoolhouse Press in Wisconsin has the "authentic" Guernsey wool in what I think of as the "authentic" marine blue color. Hm. I may have an item to put on the "Christmas wish list" my parents ask me for every year.)

Yay, the weekend. (Well, I have one more class today first).

One thing I think I'm going to do is make some bean soup. I found a recipe in the old "Cooking for Two" (I think it's Betty Crocker? 1950s-ish, spiral bound, blue cover, illustrations by Charley Harper? (Yes, I realize I'm probably one of the few people who remembers a cookbook based on that fact)) It's for a version of the famous Senate Bean Soup, and while I have no delusions of going into politics, the recipe still sounds good.

The one sticking point was that the recipe calls for either hamhocks or salt pork. Neither of which is readily available in my town for some reason. And I can't see driving 1/2 hour to go to Kroger's for ham hocks. (Especially not on "Texas Sales Tax Free Weekend." You could not pay me to go to the malls this weekend, they're going to be mobbed with helicopter parents, Alpha moms, fussy elementary-school aged kids, and bored snarky teenagers)

But I found that my beloved Penzey's spices had a "ham soup base," so I ordered some in my last order, and it's sitting in my fridge, waiting to be tried out.

I hope it's good, because if it is, that means it will be so much easier to make tasty beans - most of the ham they sell now, if you cook it in with the beans like the old recipes say, it kind of becomes tasteless meat-cubes over the cooking time. So I prefer to put any meat into the beans at the end - but then you don't get the cooking flavor.

(And salt pork and bacon - I'm really not "doing" either of them any more. Even though I've learned it probably wasn't bacon that gave me that bad stomach upset last fall, still, I think just to be safe I probably better steer clear of fatty pork).

As always, I'll post a recipe if it's good. Especially since this "Senate bean soup" is a recipe-for-two (all the others I've seen make larger amounts, and while leftovers are nice, sometimes it does get to be a drag to eat the same thing every day for a week.)

I also might make a loaf of bread, I don't know. (Perhaps my desire to cook, like many other desires to do something useful and energetic, will drain away when I think about actually pulling out the mixing bowl and figuring out a place that's comfortable to stand at and knead - my counters are a bit high for that and my kitchen is too tiny for an island)

I'm up to the heel-flap on the first lace sock (The pattern is Angee from the Cookie A sock book). I like the yarn - it's a Fibra Natura 100% wool sock yarn, it has a very tight twist to it. The yarn feels "firm," which suggests to me it will make socks that wear well. (Yarn that is too soft is not so good for socks; it can wear out faster).

I still have the three skeins of green-and-purple Lorna's Laces and the shawl pattern sitting by my computer. Not sure if I will start it this weekend.

I DO think I will pull out the long-stalled Airy Cardigan and see if I can re-start it. I've had the buttons I intend to use (vintage Czech buttons made of white glass, like milk glass) sitting on my coffee table for over a year now. The main thing that stalls me from pulling it back out is the thought of having to redraft the sleeve patterns (the original has 3/4 length sleeves, which I maintain look silly on someone of my age and build). And the fear that if I mess it up, it will spoil the sweater.

The secondary thing is that it's mohair, and it's been hot and sticky again here.

Something else I did start - I cut all of the "cute" dog prints and sewed up the strips to make the 4-patch blocks for what will eventually be either one larger or two smaller Linus quilts. (Right now I'm leaning towards doing two smaller ones - I think I have enough fabric to get 2, 36" by 48" quilts done). I've cut a few of the segments to make the 4-patch blocks but I want to get back to that.

I've decided when I get these done I am going to get them quilted. I know that's a largish monetary investment on my part but I'd rather turn in completed quilts for the group to use.

I'm also contemplating doing a scarf or two for the Red Scarf project. (Especially since they don't absolutely have to be red - they can be any "unisex" color and I think I have some nice brown on hand that would make an attractive scarf). I enjoy knitting scarves but there are only so many a person can use themselves. The deadline for getting them in is not until December, so I should be able to do at least one scarf in that time. I may pull out the copy of Reversible Scarf Patterns that I have. (I know, maybe some of those aren't "totally hip" or whatever, but surely there are some college kids who would like a nice, traditionally patterned scarf?) As I remember, the Honeycombed Ribbing one is quite nice.

(Mistake rib, seen on this site, is also nice).

There's this cute thing folks on Ravelry are doing - making little cartoons of themselves in 50s style (it is related to the show Mad Men, which I admit I don't watch).

But I decided to waste a few minutes (I have to go to a meeting at 3:30 and I didn't really have time to do much else). I tried to make it look as much like I think I look as the choices permitted.

And yes, darnit, I'm wearing gloves. If 50s style were back in style I'd totally wear gloves, at least when I wasn't in lab. (And I'd wear hats, too, though none of the ones on offer at that site would work with the hairstyle closest to my own)

(Want your own? here)

If a Katie Perry song were being rewritten to describe me, it would be something like,

"You start new projects, like a girl changes clothes."

(Yes, I happened to hear that song yesterday and now it's an earworm. Ugh.)

I want to start yet another shawl, even though I'm plugging away (two more rounds completed, WOO!) on the Rosy-Fingered Dawn shawl. But going through some of my patterns and yarn I found the pattern for the Scotch Thistle Lace Stole and dug out the yarn (Lorna's Laces in "Purple Iris" - the closest to "thistle" colors I could find) for it.

And darn it, now I want to start that. Even though my level of concentration at this point is really probably only good enough for one shawl (plus the cabled vest). But I've got it sitting out next to my computer at home for now, where I can look at it and be tempted by it.

I also found the bag of silvery grey yarn, and the bag of leftover (and then plus-some) Tardis yarn (1500 yards of the Tardis-blue, I think 1000 yards of the grey) that were bought with no project in mind. And I get to thinking about gansey sweaters, and the big thick cable-rich sweaters like Melissa Leapman designs.

And I'm thinking again about pulling out the long-neglected Airy cardigan, and finishing up the bits of the shoulders I need to do, and then doing the necessary redrafting to make the sleeves not look ridiculously short on me.

(I think you have to go through your "stash" periodically, just to remind yourself of what you have. And yes, my "stash" is big enough that I forget some of the things I have. Don't judge me.)

I take this as a good sign; when I'm happy and generally on an even keel, that's when I want to start lots of things, when I have great enthusiasm for projects, both at work and out of work.

Thinking about starting new projects is as much fun as actually doing it (and you don't have to worry about whether you have the right size of needles free). It's also as much fun (but much less expensive) as shopping for yarn. (And considering how much I have stashed-up, I should probably "shop the stash" exclusively for a few months).

****

Lynn linked this today, but I'm going to link it too: Knitting Spies. I particularly like the mental image of the French grandmas collecting information on German troop movements and coding it into their knitting.

We have been invaded by squirrels!

Oh no, they're in my back yard:




And in my house!




And even in my OFFICE! Oh noes!





(Want to make your own? Go here).

The shawl of 1000 stitches starts with the first yarn-over, or something like that.



I did start the "Rosy-Fingered Dawn" shawl (Subtitled: Knit Yourself a Classical Myth. The shawl has patterns inspired by various Greek myths; the pattern-writer refers to Homer.)

The shawl won't literally have 1000 stitches at the end (though it does apparently go to somewhere over 600 in the edging). Right now it's at the "small" stage - it's one of those that starts from the middle and works outward. Luckily I have a long-cable size 6 circular needle for when it gets really huge. (And an intermediate series of shorter needles for along the way).

I will admit this stage is a bit annoying because many of the rounds have a yarn over at the end - you have to be careful not to drop it off, and you have to be sure to start the next round right away so it doesn't get lost.

I am also working on Honeycomb right now. I really like this project. The color is lovely, the cabling isn't too involved, and I think the finished project will really be nice.



For what it's worth, Flickr says this is the 1000th picture I've uploaded.

This is shaping up to be a REALLY GOOD week. Would that it continues.

So far:

Saturday: Did a bit of home-repair/improvement (getting BIG HONKING BRANCH off the roof ALL BY MYSELF and figuring out how to fix the gas vent correctly).

Yesterday: Got word that my paper from last summer was accepted pending revisions. So I WILL have a publication for this year.

Today: (a) Had my new grad student come in and start planning her research with me. (b) Realized I could write a mini-grant to help fund the grad student, and my chances of being funded for the project are greatly enhanced because the money is going to help grad student research. (c) Had a textbook company contact me with an offer of reviewing a chapter ($75 in this case, but that's definitely not to be sneezed at) and (d) FINISHED THE REVISIONS.

And, if I may brag on myself a little: this paper really is one of the better ones I've written. The Introduction, in particular, is darn good. And it takes a lot for me to say something I've done is darn good.

If I were superstitious, I'd say all this good stuff was happening because I had taken time to clean my office. (Well, the cleaner office DOES make me more productive: I am happier to do work in a clean place)

I heard on the morning news "New evidence: drinking tea after a stressful situation can help people recover from that stress!"

And I was all happy and amused. Because, one thing, I'm always happy when Something I Learned From British Golden Age Mysteries seems to actually be true, and for another, it's so NICE to for-once have a "medical news" story that's not "Here's yet another horrifying way you can die from something you have little control over."

So I looked it up online, curious whether it was some compound in the tea that helped, or if it was the act of making tea (stopping and taking time to do something "normal" in a stressful situation).

Turns out the "study" was actually a stinking poll. Possibly not even a "scientific" poll, as it does not say whether it was an "opt-in" situation (as in: call if you feel strongly about this) or it was a randomly selected group of people who were asked (which is more scientific).

At any rate, the conclusions that Brits find tea comforting was largely attributed to "cultural factors" - as in, it might not work for Americans. (And the news story I saw had the predictable person-on-the-street commentary, including one woman who proclaimed, "When do we have time to drink tea? We all have to work for a living!" Good grief, woman.)

That said, I am thinking of buying a new electric kettle (even though such things are technically taboo in the building where I have my office; we've been told alternately that "someone might forget one plugged in and start a fire" and "it has a heating element, and that could overload the electrical system" but water boiled in a microwave does not seem the same) and making tea again over in my office.

Incidentally, a current favorite among teas is Adagio's raspberry black tea (I have the decaf version). It is very light, the raspberry doesn't overpower the tea. And it's good "plain" (without milk and sugar - in fact, I don't think milk would be so good in this one). It has bits of dried raspberry and what look like raspberry leaves mixed in with the black tea (for years, some herbalists have used raspberry leaf tea as a way of treating certain "female complaints")

A question: Does anyone own a copy of "Country Weekend Knits" by Madeline Weston? (I know this is a reprint of an older British book). If you do, could you check the range of sizes given for the sweaters and let me know in a comment? (or: if you are on your way out to a well-stocked yarn shop or bookstore that has it, could you check for me?)

I love some of the pictures of stuff I've seen that's in the book. But I don't want to buy it sight unseen without being sure that the sizes go up to a 42"-44" for most of the sweaters (including the women's sweaters).

I say this because the book is from older patterns (older patterns had less of a size range) and it's British (it seems Brits are slimmer than Americans, or at least they are less flexible on sizing sometimes). I do not want a repeat of a few books I bought where the "extra-large" size was a 38" finished bust size - which is a bit too small for comfort, especially considering that the shoulders and arms are proportionally smaller, and I have broad shoulders.

I really like the book and would like to order a copy. But if I have to "size up" patterns, even a couple of inches, to fit me, I'd rather design my own. Because it's time consuming to size-up, and it's also somewhat disheartening to be told that a size several inches smaller than me is an "extra large" (So what does that make me, a "ginormous"?)

Not Martha linked to a museum show called "Suffer for Beauty" - highlighting some of the uncomfortable things women have done over the years to fit in with the (whatever was current) standard of beauty.

I don't really have a lot of commentary on that (I think we have it a lot easier now, even with Spanx and the ads for botox), but I will observe from looking at the photo of the woman there...something that's been going around in my head for a time...I have a late-19th century sort of face.

For years, when I'd look at celebrities or the women on the covers of fashion magazines, and then look at myself, I'd be puzzled or a little bereft: they really didn't look that much like me. At the height of my appearance-insecurity I felt like a different species from those tanned, high-cheekboned, pouting models. (And yes, I did feel that way. And at an embarrassingly mature age to feel that way, I will admit)

But now, seeing some older photos and also looking at some of the "Pre-Raphaelite" era paintings by people like Dante Gabriel Rosetti, I've concluded that I simply have an atavistic face. One that's not currently in fashion. So that's why there aren't women who look "like" me acting in movies, or showing up on magazine covers. Not sure what to make of that, other than "not being the current fashion" is preferable to "having a look no one found appealing, ever"

(Perhaps that's partly why I've always like Pre-Raphaelite paintings...)

First off:

My Lespedeza paper was accepted! My Lespedeza paper was accepted! My Lespedeza paper was accepted!

(well, OK, WITH REVISIONS but still: My Lespedeza paper was accepted!)

You will have to imagine me dancing in my office.

Second of all:

Another finished thing from my vacation time.

This is Oscar:



Oscar is not a grouch, but he is a crab. (Heh.).

This is the "Deadliest Crab" from the most recent Knitty. I used some Wool of the Andes I had on hand, and bought a skein of Encore in a cream color for the underside.

I left the mouth off mine because I kind of prefer the more "neutral" expression with just the eyes.

I will say that the pattern does require considerable concentration, at least on the upper body - there's a whole bunch of shortrowing to try to make the shape of the "face." (I may have messed it up a little, mine doesn't look quite like the picture). The legs are not hard but they are very tedious because you are doing six of them (plus the two legs-with-claws)

I do think this would make an amusing baby toy if you embroidered the eyes (even lock-washer eyes are not really that safe, especially on a knitted thing - they can pull out) and if you enclosed a pillbox with a couple pebbles in it in the crab's middle so it would rattle when shaken.
Or a squeaker in the crab. (Heck, that would even be amusing if you were an adult. I wish I had thought of that when I was making the crab up. Then again, I don't have ready access to squeakers).

Of course, the crab lends itself to all kinds of bad puns, like



"What's the matter, feeling a little crabby?"

(Except I'm NOT, today, what with that paper acceptance.)

A success of a different kind.

While I was out of town, apparently there was a minor windstorm. One of the large branches on my pecan tree snapped off and wound up on the roof (luckily it did not damage the roof but it was hung up over the ridgeline). It also knocked the cap off of the gas vent - meaning, if I didn't get that cap back on, leaves and junk could fall in and clog it up.

I wasn't sure what to do; from the ground the branch looked big and heavy. I asked a colleague if he knew someone I could hire to get the branch down and fix the vent. He didn't know but volunteered to come out if he had time this weekend and do it for me. (He built his own house so he knows how to do such things).

Well, by 4:30 this afternoon I got sick of waiting for him to call, so I decided to try to do it myself. Besides, I wanted to sweep the accumulated catkins from the pecan tree off of the flat part of the roof - both because they're unsightly and over time can build up and damage the roof, and also, I figured if I did wait for my colleague to come out, they could be kind of slippery.

Well, once I got up, I decided the branch didn't look so big. So I crawled up to the ridgeline and managed to unhook it. Well, it was heavier than I expected, but I managed to sort of "roll" it down the steep part of the roof (following it slowly, sliding down on my backside). Once I got it to the flatter part of the roof it was fairly simple to roll it off (except, I had to be very careful - the electrical line connected to the garage is up there, and I wanted to be REALLY sure no side branches hung up on it and snapped it. (In retrospect, it probably would have been smarter to temporarily shut off the house electricity from the breaker box as a precaution. Luckily, I did not need to have done that).

Slowly I got the tree off the roof without snapping the line or damaging the gutter (well, damaging it TOO much). I will admit to saying a few not entirely ladylike words during the process, but I don't think anyone else was around.

But I managed to beat the branch; it is now down off my roof and in my backyard until I can find someone with a chipper who will get rid of it.



See? It's almost 12 feet long and probably 3" in diameter at its base. I couldn't get all of it in the picture.

I took my picture with it (still all grubby and dirty from wrestling with stuff on the roof) partly to show the scale of the branch, but also because, well, I don't hunt or fish so you'll never see me standing next to a big dead elk or holding up a swordfish.

But I can field-dress a tree branch, so there. Not bad for a 40-year-old, somewhat citified, overweight, female college professor.

There was also the matter of replacing the cap to the gas vent - the real concern, as it might rain in the coming week and I have no idea whether rainwater getting into a gas vent is a Bad Thing or not.

I was afraid that the vent cap had sheared off, and replacing it would be involved and that the best I could do was jury-rig something until I got a pro out. So I had gone out this morning and bought a roll of "real" duct tape - the kind that is a metal foil material with a heavy, mastic-like adhesive, not just the silvery-grey fiber tape kind of thing.

The good news is that the cap, though it had been held on by something like caulking, had actually just "popped" off, so it was a simple matter to reseat it over the flange.

But I used the duct tape just to be sure.



The vent got a little bashed up in its fall, but it still does what it needs to. (I did NOT climb back up on the roof for this photo - I went up on the ladder and used, I think for the first time ever, the telephoto function on my camera.)

And yeah, I know, some of you are probably thinking that it's foolhardy to go up on a roof alone. And yeah, it kind of is. But you do what you have to. And if I had fallen off of the steep part of the roof, I would have wound up on the flat part - a fall of only a few feet. (And I probably would have slid down the roof instead - skinning myself up but not doing serious damage).

I figure I probably take comparable risks driving out on the highway; I know I've evaded a few accidents in the past year (thanks to my fast response time) as a result of some other driver yakking on a cell phone. So I figure going up on the roof is a calculated risk; the worst that would be likely to happen would be that I'd inadvertently kick over the ladder going down and be trapped on my roof until one of my neighbors went outside and I could holler to get their attention. (I get off the roof by keeping my center of gravity over the roof - using my upper body strength, which is actually pretty good these days - until I'm sure my feet are firmly on the ladder step below that one where they tell you, "Don't step on this step.")

So, another thing successfully done, along with replacing a wax seal on a toilet and removing large branches that were threatening the power line into my house before an ice storm. I may wind up as a "cowgirl" after all.

Perhaps my next car should be a small pickup truck...

YouTube never fails to amaze me. Yes, it's the source of lots of odd funny stuff (like the Darth Vader video I posted a while back) and nostalgic stuff (old commercials). But there's also some nice peaceful stuff.

If you search on "peaceful" you can turn up a variety of videos of just landscape video with or without quiet New-Age style music.

Some of them are quite long - nearly 1/2 hour. This is one of the shorter ones but it's also very pretty. I'm going to keep these in mind for times at work when I'm close to losing my cool, if I can go in my office and shut the door and watch one of these videos it would probably restore my balance. Or for when I feel like I need a pseudo-mini-vacation.



The person who took the video said it's a 10 mile hike in to actually see these. And I'm not sure how easy it is for non-Havasu to get permission to go in that area (When my dad was taking trips through Colorado and Utah with students, there were certain places the tribes really didn't want people going, as they were sacred to the tribes, and my dad and his students always respected their requests). But if it were possible to go there...well, I'd like to go there someday. Even if it means a 10 mile hike in hot weather.

Another thing that got finished over break.

I didn't do the largest part of the work on this quilt: I pieced it and bound it, but I hired the quilting group at my parents' church (which my mother is a part of) to quilt it for me.



They got it done shortly before I went up for the last visit so I was able to bind it while I was up there and carry it back with me.

The ladies quilted it, and my mom marked it (as much marking as was done - just the borders). The "houndsteeth" are outline quilted, and the borders have a fancy pattern, almost a bit like Celtic knotwork. Here are a couple of photos that try to show it:





My mom said she had done "most" of the border work - and I can tell, I can recognize her quilting (it is kind of like mine - fairly small and even, but even more even than mine is).

One of the ladies in the quilt group who worked on this is now starting cancer treatment, really with only the hope of prolonging her life a while longer. Which is sad. So when I look at this quilt I wonder if maybe it will be the last one I have that Faith worked on.

There is something nice about having a quilt that people you know and care about worked on (besides my mom, I know all of the ladies in the group - I belonged to the same church when I lived up in Illinois and I even went to the quilt group a few times when I was free on a Wednesday). It's a way of remembering someone and thinking about them when you see the object. It's almost more meaningful to me than photographs - I have a few things my maternal grandmother made (my paternal grandmother didn't do handwork other than very utilitarian things like making curtains) and I treasure those items now that she's gone.

I can totally understand the appeal of the old "signature" quilts, where a group of people would sign squares of fabric to be made into a quilt - either for a minister who was leaving for a new congregation, or someone taking off for a new life as a pioneer, or a young woman marrying into a family far from where she grew up. There's something very tangible about the quilt.

One of my mom's good friends back in Ohio, with whom we exchange small (preferably handmade) gifts at Christmas, once commented that whenever she used or looked at one of the things that we had made for her, she would quietly say, "Hi, Gail" or "Hi, Erica" in recognition of who made it, and that that bond was still there, even if we were separated by (in my case) over 1000 miles.

THAT'S why I like handmade gifts. And why I continue to give them to certain people (who appreciate them)

Well.

Since I (apparently) won't have my paper back to revise yet this weekend, and since I already cleaned my office (that was yesterday's between-meetings task), and since I have the necessary prep done for teaching next week, I think I may start some new project this weekend. (I have to be in town Saturday; I have a meeting at 10 am)

I'm just not sure yet what it's going to be. I think it will be one of these three:

a. Start the Linus Project quilt out of the cutesy-poo dog fabrics. This is going to be a simple cut-then-sew quilt and it's made of a limited palette of fabrics, so I won't have to lay it out to get the "right" arrangement - once the blocks are made, I can just sew them together in the predetermined order. Once it's done, I think I'm going to pay to have it quilted (Yeah, I know. But I like the idea of being able to deliver a finished quilt even if it costs me something, and doing machine quilting myself: meh.). I may even have enough of the fabrics to make two smallish identical or similar quilts.

b. Start the pi shawl that I've put some of the Noro sock yarn aside for. I don't like Noro sock yarn for socks, but it should be OK for a shawl. (Provided they didn't mess up the color sequence with a big knot in the skein like in the previous skein I had)

c. Pull out the Rosy-Fingered Dawn shawl kit that's been sitting in my stash for several years (since 2004, I think - I think that was the year of the trip to see Blackberry Ridge Woolen Mills), wind off the first color, and start the shawl. (The colors are subtle enough that I think I'm only going to wind them off as I need them, so I don't get confused and use the wrong one.

Yes, I know. I had talked about a couple other shawls earlier but seeing the Noro sockyarn and the Rosy-Fingered Dawn kit in my stash the other day made me think of starting them.

I'm actually leaning towards the Rosy-Fingered Dawn - while it's lace, it's not tee-toncy yarn lace, it's the slightly beefier "handspun feeling" Blackberry Ridge yarn. And the kit was a gift from my dad so it would be nice to actually let him know I'm working on it.

Well, I found out why I never got my paper back to revise.

The editor is still waiting on one of the reviewers to send back his/her comments.

Seriously? This person had JUST UNDER A YEAR to do this. I was taught, when I was in grad school, that you return a review in NO MORE THAN three weeks. I know my adviser was a stickler for doing things the "proper" way, but I think a year is a little excessive to wait.

I was also taught that if you didn't think you'd have time to do it, you tell the editor you don't have time and ask them or help them to find someone else who can do it.

(I mean, seriously: who doesn't have a couple hours some weekend to read a stinking 12 page paper and make comments on it?)

Oh well. At least it sounds like it's still accepted. Or at least I hope so. I hope this last reviewer's comments don't sink the paper.