Okay. Birthday roundup.

I will start off with the "not so awesome" in order to get it out of the way:

1. The traffic in and around 380 (University) in McKinney is a nightmare right now; they are rebuilding (?) the exit and they have random lanes of 380 blocked off. And despite Texas' "Drive Friendly" admonishments, they're not very "friendly" about letting you know about lane closures: the worst one being that the lane I was in was suddenly coned off, under an overpass, with no sign any distance back to say, "Hey, guys, you might wanna think about merging" like they have in Oklahoma. (And we also have, a few hundred feet before the closure, another sign that basically says, "Hey, fool, merge now or you'll be violating a state law and you could get a ticket.")

2.There are more empty storefronts in McKinney. One of the antique malls is gone, "120" is gone, The Abode is long gone (and is going to become yet another restaurant it looks like. I suppose restaurants - especially those with liquor licenses - do better even in leaner times. I guess. I'd give up eating out before I'd give up, say, buying quilt fabric though.)

3. What I thought was just really bad allergies turns out to actually be a cold. I guess in a way it's good I didn't realize that before last night, or I might have chosen not to go. But last night I started feeling chilled and took my temperature: 100.9. Ugh. And now today I have that sore/dry feeling throat. I didn't go to church - part of it is that talking is kind of painful at the moment (and singing would probably be worse) and I want to save my voice for teaching tomorrow. But also, I didn't want to expose anyone else to the cold; I know there is at least one person there taking a medication that can have immune suppressant effects. I also talked with my youth group co-leader and she's getting a sub to help her tonight so I don't have to go. Which is good, because if the kids were their usually somewhat giggly selves, I'm not sure I'd feel well enough to be very patient.

The better stuff:

1. Thanks, TChem! The gashopon toy came yesterday. (Along with an explanation of the name: Gasho is the sound it makes rattling around in the vending machine, and pon is when it lands at the bottom of the chute.)

It's a tiny food thing - little parfaits (? or maybe glasses with melon balls in them, it's a little hard to tell). It's a lot like the Re-Ment stuff that I already have.

I love not just the little food and the fact that it arrived ON MY BIRTHDAY (good timing, USPS!), but also that she carried it all the way back from Japan for me.

2. Once again, the quilt shops in McKinney were the busiest stores. I'm guessing that either (a) quilters have more stable incomes/sources of disposable cash, (b) people who quilt are willing to cut back in other areas if they have to economize, or (c) In a lot of ways, it can be a small indulgence: most fabrics are less than $10 a yard, fat quarters are cheap. I bought a bunch of fabric: some fat quarters in sort of acid greens and pale magentas to match some fabric I have on hand, some just-cute fabric that I'm not sure where it will end up, and a big piece of the Goodnight Monkeys fabric (the one with the monkeys jumping on bunk beds; that one was my favorite, the shop was closing it out at a good price, so I bought what was left on the bolt - a little over 6 yards - to use as the backing on that eventual quilt).

Oh, and Quilt Asylum's new location is really easy to find, as it turns out. And a lot closer to the old downtown. It's not as "pretty" a spot (IMHO - mainly because they no longer have the lovely large front windows) as their old location, but it is larger and has a much better classroom space. (The store is in a former "Steak Kountry" restaurant. I've never eaten at one; I admit I'm irrationally suspicious of restaurants that do the K for C substitution in their names...)

3. The single biggest purchase was something I'd been wanting: a small area rug to put in front of my big chair. I had been thinking of getting one of those flokati-type rugs, but decided against it, partly because a flokati rug wouldn't match with the style of the room, but mainly because, if I had another carpet beetle outbreak, they'd eat the thing whole (flokati rugs being wool). And it would be too sad to spend that much money on an area rug and have it eaten up.

So I got a woven cotton one instead:



I admit it doesn't match PERFECTLY, but the colorways that the store had that would have been a better match, I did not like so well as I liked this one. (And even at that...there are very subtle purple grapes in the upholstery of that chair that kind of pick up the bluish purple stripe on the rug). I may eventually cycle this out and put it next to my bed instead, except the rug that's there now doesn't look like a living-room type rug.

4. This is the Carolina Yarn Bell:



When I do get back to the Rosy Fingered Dawn shawl, it will protect the yarn from dust (and presumably, bugs, if any get in here again).

5. There was not a lot of great antiquing (I skipped a couple places I sometimes go into because I was getting tired by that point), but I did find one cute thing:



This is a little half-timbered cottage that I found at one of the little shops. There is no real mark on it so I don't know when or where it was made but I like it. (Those are photos of great-grandparents - on my dad's dad's side of the family - behind it).

6. Morningstar Treasures was still there, still nice, still had the little corner devoted to yarn (of which I bought some). I also got this, I could not resist it:



It's a "vintage" bunny (again, I don't know how old, but I've seen similar patterns that were described as being from the 40s or 50s). It was $16, which would be cheap enough even IF it were newly made from an old pattern.

I couldn't resist it, both because of the face and because of the little teal corduroy jacket.

The bunny is going to be the centerpiece of my Easter decorating this year:



I was originally going to do St. Patrick's Day first, but I have no St. Patrick's Day stuff, really, and didn't see anything that was so cute I had to buy it. So I'm kind of skipping ahead to Easter.

But not totally:



Yeah, I have two "Irish-y" (neither actually MADE in Ireland, though) bears: the Aer Lingus bear my mom brought back from her London trip, and then a beanie baby for St. Patrick's Day. So I decided to put them on the other end of the mantel.

7. Also, Loco Cowpoke (the Texas foods store) was still there and still fairly busy. I think part of it is his strategy: he has free samples of just about everything he sells, and will open up something he doesn't have open if you ask. I bought a (rather pricey, but at the time I thought it might also work anti-allergy - as I was still thinking this was an allergy problem) jar of local wildflower honey. And a bottle of plum chipotle basting sauce - I tried it on a cracker but could tell it would be really good on chicken. (If I get the energy up this evening, I have chicken breasts - I stopped at the Kroger and was actually able to get some with the bone in and and the skin on - which I usually can't find in town - and I really think those taste better after they're cooked). So I might do a baked chicken breast with plum chipotle sauce for dinner tonight.

The sauce would also probably be good on broiled tofu. It had kind of a fusion Tex-Mex/Asian flavor to it.

I rather wish we had a place like that in town, where there were all kinds of different foods. The Texoma Peanut Inn has some things, but what they have are mostly different varieties of pickles, and they don't have quite the diversity of different companies' food that Loco Cowpoke has.

Well, no electrician. But that's OK. (He warned me that he didn't know if he'd have time to get out yesterday or not). I have a floor lamp in there I can use for now.

And I now have a clean house - I cleaned yesterday afternoon while waiting on him.


AND today is my birthday. I already received a couple of presents - in addition to the books and dvd I talked about earlier (thanks again Angie), my mom took out a subscription to Cook's Country for me. And she made a small quilted mat (which I should photograph maybe) that is now on my coffee table.

And I got one of the Carolina Yarn Bells. It actually came last month but I didn't open it 'til now. It's the bright blue one. I'm thinking it will be best for lace-type knitting (always my "at home" knitting) because once you install a ball of yarn in the bell, there's no taking it out to carry it off to invigilate an exam or something.

(Speaking of lace knitting, I really need to get back to the Rosy Fingered Dawn shawl sometime).

But today, it's MY day. It's one of the few days that I take where everything I do will be just for me and for fun...I'm going to go to McKinney. I have directions (I hope they will make sense once I get there) to the new location of Quilt Asylum. And I'm going to the little old downtown for antiquing and whatever shops may be there (things tend to change or close unexpectedly and I try not to be disappointed when an old favorite is gone.) (But a quick check online shows that Happiness is Quilting - the second quilt shop in McKinney - is still there, yay).

I'm also going to go out to lunch somewhere - maybe The Pantry, maybe somewhere else. I don't know. I tend to do the same thing (go to the Pantry) every time - I tend to be a creature of habit and am actually happier, I think, doing something familiar. In part, I think it's because by going there, I remember the prior happy memories - the other times I was down there on my birthday, the day with Diann and Ken, the year my mom was down over my birthday weekend and we went there.

I'm not exactly a "novelty seeker" or whatever they call that personality type. Quite the opposite: when I have good memories of something, I like to bring them back to the front of my mind by revisiting that thing.

I haven't been "out" (not even to Sherman) nearly as often as I have in the past - part of it is that I just seem to be busier these days, but also, I've been trying to spend less. (And with a more extensive downtown now, some things that you just "need" are more readily available in town.)

I got paid yesterday so I got some cash - at least, for some of the purchases. I expect the bulk of the money I spend will be on quilt fabric.


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A long time ago, I was talking about my anxiety in re: teaching styles. About how I'm a "chalk and talk" kind of person: I'm good at organizing knowledge and conveying it, but I'm not always so good at the kind of spontaneous "active" student-driven stuff that is the fad now.

And I get anxious about that - especially now, as we're to have "peer reviews" coming up - where our colleagues sit in our classes and later on tell us what they think our strengths and weaknesses are (and it makes me feel vaguely ill even to think about that...). And I worry, because we are all different people, and one person's "strength" might be another person's weakness. And I worry about getting conflicting advice, and trying to follow all of it, and winding up doing worse than before.

It's like an old story, called The Animals' School. I referenced this before (in that earlier post I was talking about), but could never find an online version to share with you, and now I have.

I LIKE that fable. I think it is pretty representative of the problems you get when you try to shove people into one-size-fits-all solutions. And my problem is that I tend to listen to everyone's advice, and I wind up either like the duck (tolerably OK at everything, but no longer good at what I used to be good at) or, worse, the squirrel (trying too hard to be something I am not).

I have to admit, philosophically, I cheer for the prairie dogs, even if I personally tend to react most like the duck.

I first saw that fable in Ann Wiseman's "Making Things" book - one of those great messy sprawly craft-and-art books that came out of the 1970s. (I've been slowly finding and buying copies of the books I loved from the library as a kid: I have "Making Things," and both the Woodstock Craftsman's Manuals, and a very 1970s book on toymaking, all ones I remember fondly from my childhood. There's an interesting ethos in those books: the emphasis is more on having fun and expressing yourself than making stuff that's PERFECT, and I wonder some times if some of the whole Martha Stewart thing (where stuff has to be "just so" and where skill and perfection trump self-expression) has taken some of the fun (and maybe some of the therapeutic value) away from making stuff.

The Woodstock manuals, in particular, are pretty wonderful: very 1970s crunchy back-to-the-land, but lots of good information on how to do stuff yourself. And very empowering, in the sense of saying: if it works for you and makes a pleasing product, right on! That there are no "rules," no "quilt police" or "printmaking police" or "needlework police" or anything like that. And there's also a stronger sense of making do with the supplies you have at hand, rather than having to run out to Chain Store X for This Particular Brand of Glitter in That Specific Shade of Green. And I wonder if we've lost some of that...if the rise of commercialism (for lack of a better term) in crafts has taken away some of the sense of independence.

For example: you rarely see any more a person making a quilt out of patches from worn clothes. Oh, I'm sure it's still done, but it used to be much more common. And it used to be common to piece patches themselves...if the green you wanted to use was in two small bits, you sewed them together and then cut the piece you wanted. And you didn't worry about the bias or straight of grain - you just used what you had.

And don't get me wrong - I LOVE the wide availability of fabric. I LOVE being able to take a fresh new piece of fabric where I'm sure I'm going to have "enough" for what I want to do. I LOVE being able to mix and match colors at will, not as dictated by what's in the scrap bag. But I also think that old "make do and mend" philosophy is an important part of our heritage as crafters, and I think perhaps we need to honor that more...and maybe go back and read the older books from time to time. And be grateful for what we have now, but also realize that if we had to, we could go back to the way before...)

Anyway. This has been kind of rambly but I'm sure there's a link between not pushing yourself to be something you're not (and losing the good parts of yourself in the process) and also celebrating that really, craftwork is at its best (IMHO) when each person does their own thing, whether that's making super-matchy perfect quilts, or making vibrant exciting quilts like some of the quilts I've seen by Black women in the Carolinas, or by making simple soft quilts that a baby would love, or making incredibly complex quilts with a million pieces, or making quilts out of old wool samples from suitmaking...

Tomorrow is my birthday. Plans are in place. I am going to get money out of my account tonight (I am SUPPOSED to be paid today, but the date-stamp on my online pay stub says the last day of the month. That is new. I suppose it's a way for the state to hold on to its money a bit longer. (But that's OK. I have enough in the account - I always try to have at least a $1000 padding in case of emergency - so I can go ahead and get my couple hundred dollars of spending cash).

***

And, from the It's Always Something files: The light switch in my bedroom failed. This is the one that controls the overhead light/ceiling fan. It's one of the old-style light switches, the kind where you feel a resistance when you flick it on or off. Well, the switch just hangs now, it has no resistance any more. (There are any number of horrible jokes I could make about my droopy light switch...especially considering the Michelangelo's "David" switch plate I saw once, where the switch went in a, shall we say, significant place). I'm going to call an electrician (I have the name of a well-respected one here in town) after I get out of class and set up an appointment.

I know, this is the kind of thing many homeowners do themselves but a. It's an old switch and may need some rewiring, b. I've never done it before and c. I'm not entirely sure which breaker on the breaker box shuts that circuit off. (So I may need to turn off the entire house circuit, and have the guy work using a battery powered light).

I suppose it will be expensive but meh. I need to have it done. I should have done it earlier when I was first having problems with the switch but I tend to be avoidant about things like that, as I always fear the "OH NOES! You still have THIS old set up? That is NOT UP TO CODE and you cannot stay here any more until we do an expensive and time consuming re-do."

I suppose that rarely ever happens, but I tend to assume the worst.

At least I have a floor lamp beside the bed, so I can still have some light in the room, until I can get the guy out.

***

I'm still fighting through "Castle on a Cloud." I think my natural stubbornness has kicked in; like many other times and many other things in my life my feeling is now, "I'm not going to let something this stupid beat me." Which is actually a good thing; when I get to that point that usually means I am close to succeeding.

Oh, and the minor second resolves to a third, and from there to a fifth.

I got a laugh in class today.

I was handing out exams, and going through my usual spiel (if you have a question, ask me, etc.) I talked about how if people got a "defective" exam (it's rare, and with this one I didn't have time to look through every single copy, and sometimes an exam will be missing a page) to alert me.

A couple of the kids in the back mumbled something, and guessing what their remark was, I said, after a brief pause, "...and the exam is NOT defective if you just can't answer every last thing on it."

Some of the students groaned and some laughed. That was gratifying because I almost never get laughs - either because my jokes are a bit too esoteric, or because they're ones only I think are funny (I dropped the bit about Mrs. Potato Head asking if a pair of jeans made her butt look "starchy," even though I kind of like it because it shows the analogy between starch as a storage tissue in plants and fat as a storage tissue in animals), or because the students are just kind of afraid to laugh.

Since it has arrived (and been cooed over), I can now show the picture of the gift I made for the swap on Ravelry:



It's one of those "feather lace stoles" from the Exquisite Little Knits book. (From the section on kid mohair). I have one of these, made from some red Jaeger not-quite-pure mohair. For this one, I used the called-for yarn: Kidsilk Haze.

It's a nice yarn and all, but I admit I get awfully tired of working with it after a while. (And if it's cold in your house, don't pull out the space heater that pushes warm air using a fan; it blows the super light yarn all over the place and makes knitting annoying).

I got a PM from the person who is supposed to be sending to me; they got behind and it will be a while longer. I am trying to be grown up about this and not feel even a little disappointed but I admit I'm not totally succeeding..

It's been a busy day - it was soils lab day in my ecology class, which is the most involved lab (on both my part and the students' part). But now it's complete, and next week there is no lab (because of assessment testing).
***

I guess I have to be very careful about pizza "from out" any more. I don't eat commercially-purchased pizza often; I find it cheaper (and at times, almost as fast) to make my own. But yesterday, after a rather harrowing* piano lesson, I decided to run to the new "Hot N Fast" Little Caesar's in town.

Apparently, Little Caesar's uses a seasoning that no longer agrees with me. I almost toyed with the idea of not coming in today, that was how bad my stomach felt at 4:45 when I woke up. But I soldiered through (even did my workout) and it got better over the course of the day.

(I think a boiled egg and a salad are probably best for tonight. And right now, my favorite salad is this: spinach with a few drained mandarin orange sections, some toasted walnuts, and all of it dressed with a dressing made from 4 parts walnut oil to 1 part balsamic vinegar, with maybe a teaspoon of Penzey's "creamy peppercorn" dressing seasoning added for every 5 T of oil plus vinegar).

****

*I know my teacher did not intend for it to be harrowing. I am working right now on an arrangement of "Castle in a Cloud" (from Les Miserables), and I'm just not feeling the love for it. For one thing, it has a lot of discordances: there are places where there is an F in the right hand and an E in the left and that kind of thing - a minor second, I guess? - just sounds bad to me.

I'm much more into classical or baroque music, I guess, where that kind of thing happens rarely.

At one point she had me playing a couple measures over and over and over again to try to get my hands synchronized and I just got really frustrated because I couldn't do it right. Like, almost fighting teary frustrated.

I'm too much of a wuss to petition for giving up on the song, and I suppose it has something important to teach me, but right now I'm just kind of fighting through it. Hopefully there will come a point where it will "click."

***

I've been working on a pair of Kew socks but am not very far, so no picture. I made a mistake last night and wound up having to un-knit some of it and redo it. I've been trying to work on a different project each night in the hopes of clearing the backlog of works-in-progress.

Last night, I finished sewing up all the four-patches for the current quilt, and matched the "borders" or "frames" for all of them. And I sewed a few more together:



I really like the colors in this. I think it's going to be a very cheerful quilt. And I think the pattern (the framed four-patch) was a good choice for them.

I particularly like these two blocks:

This being my birthday week, I've decided it's OK to relax my usual frugality.

And even though I'm going to be AT a quilt shop the end of this week, I took some time to scan eQuilter.

And wound up buying a bunch of fabric. But that's OK. Really, it is. Because it's my birthday week.

And, they had "World Traveler Gnome" fabric. World traveler gnome*. I love those kinds of crazy novelty fabrics. I have a few fabrics with other world landmarks on it. And I love gnomes. I'm seeing it as maybe 4" or so squares, framed with narrow strips of coordinating colors....just simple "framed" blocks, but simple is best with really distinctive fabric. (Oh wow, if it comes in time, I could take a snip of it...or the selvedge with the color-dots on it - and get coordinating fabric, if I don't have just the right things already, when I go out to the quilt shop. I could see just getting a bunch of that "Dimples" fabric that I love so in colors that would go and using it as the bordering fabric)

(*and yes, I'm aware that it's very possibly inspired by a travel website's advertising campaign...but again, I don't care. Those are actually among the few ads that crack me up these days, so the whole thought of world-traveler gnomes makes me smile. And anyway, that series of ads was itself inspired by the phenomenon of jokesters taking garden gnomes and photographing them near world landmarks...)

I love novelty or conversation fabrics - stuff that makes me smile, that is cute or funny or even just ODD (I have some fabric in my stash with things like forks on it. I suppose it was sold for things like tablecloths but I am going to make some kind of a quilt out of it). I admit that that's why I bristle a bit when the quilt-snobs roll their eyes over novelty fabrics - I know there are people who think it's somehow "less creative" for someone to take and make their quilts out of distinctive fabric. But I really don't care...it's what makes me happy.

I did get one thing done this weekend:



The back of Honeycomb. Once you divide for the straps (casting off the part that will be the back neckline, here), it goes fast. One nice feature of the pattern is that both straps are knit at the same time using two separate balls of yarn - so you don't knit one strap all up, and then get hit with (a) The dreaded, "Knit other side the same, reversing shaping" instruction (which I dislike. I know, it's done to save space and all, and I AM smart enough to figure out how to reverse the shaping, but it still annoys me - and when I'm tired, and afraid I'll make a mistake, I usually have to write out the implied section of the pattern, reversing the shaping on paper before I try it on the garment) and (b) you don't have to worry about writing down what row you had just completed out of the pattern when you started the first strap.

I cast on for the front, but of course have not gotten very far on it yet.

I did finally figure out a way to cable without a cable needle on this - I can pinch the stitch to be held "in front of work" between my left thumb and forefinger and hold it while I knit the next stitch in line, then put that stitch on the needle and knit it. It's not quite the daredevil method that the 'true' cablers-without-cable needles (and yes, that's yet another bit of inexplicable craft snobbery I've encountered: people who look down on people who "still" use a cable needle to knit cables, and remark like they are "training wheels" and stuff. And it's kind of annoying to hear. I suppose it's that the person deep down in a little insecure - I think most snobbery stems from fundamental insecurity - and probably what the person making the comment really wants - though they might not admit to it - is for the other person to cave and say, "Oh, yes, you are so much better than I am". Pfui.)

Anyway, not using a cable needle is perhaps marginally faster for this pattern, I don't know. I'll have to see how the front goes. (And if I were knitting on this, say, on a moving train, or in a crowded place where I might get my elbow jostled, I'd still use the cable needle, just for the extra security. I think picking up a dropped stitch in this pattern and with this yarn could be a real frustration.)

***

Added, later:

Thanks for the validation on the not-ditching-my-own-plans thing. I think I maybe need to learn to be better at self-care. I'm getting that way - once or twice lately I have called to ask to be let out of a meeting I didn't absolutely have to be at (once, because the plumbers had been out and had taken several hours and I knew I wouldn't have time to do everything I needed to do for the next day AND go to the meeting). But I am kind of bad about going, well, gee, these plans I made were just for me and they were just something fun, so they don't take priority.

it might be the result of my not having been invited to many parties as a child: I never got to experience the rule of "you go to the person who invited you first; you don't bail on them just because someone 'cooler' made plans later." (Or it may be because I had a few experiences, later on, of "I know you're my friend and we had plans to go to lunch/out shopping/whatever, but I just met this GREAT guy and he asked me out to a movie, I know you'll understand..."

I need to get better at not standing myself up, just because I accepted being "stood up" a few times by other people.

***

Also: you know how I often talk about how, as a child, I sort of expected I would get an instruction manual on How to Be a Grownup when I hit 18 or so? And how I didn't, and so I often feel like I'm making it up as I go along?

This is a quotation from this morning's installation service:

Like Abraham and Sarah before us, we have accepted your call to journey into unknown territory. We wait for your Spirit to show us the way

And that struck me kind of funny...because really, perhaps that's it. Adulthood - every new stage of life, really - is unknown territory to us. We can look at other adults and try to learn from them (or learn not to be them: "If you can't be a good example, you can at least be a terrible warning"). Or we can read about things others have done. But when it comes down to experiencing it for ourselves, it really is unknown territory. What I think and feel about things is not what I expected to as an adult, not what I think my parents or the other adult "role models" I know think and feel. My reactions to things are not what I expected. ("And you may tell yourself: this is not my beautiful house"?)

So really, I do feel a lot of the time like I'm making it up as I go along.

And while I suspect I've been "shown the way" in a lot of ways more than some other people have - and I really am grateful for that, and I think all the background and training I got have helped make the moral and ethical decisions relatively easy for me - still, there's an awful lot of stuff I don't feel a lot of guidance for (maybe that's the stuff that really doesn't matter. Maybe it really doesn't matter that I, as an adult, eat the occasional bowl of Fruity Cheerios or wear pajamas with sock monkeys on them or entertain myself on long car trips alone by talking in funny voices).

It's just, I thought, when I became an adult, that I'd be, well, more ADULT.

I'm making a supreme effort not to feel guilty about this. I know I have no justification to feel guilty, but I still do.

Okay, so here's the deal: I just got back, not very long ago, from making an quick run to the local Mart of Wal - realizing that "tonight is movie night and the only "snacks" I have is a bag of popcorn to pop that's over a year old." So I ran out and bought some cookies (I WOULD have baked some, but I had the Honors Day thing all morning). And some chips. And pop.

Oh, and a little plea to the coupled people of the world: Though it might seem a perfectly lovely idea to you to go to the wal-mart on a Saturday at 4 pm, and walk slowly side by side down the aisles, arms about each others' waists, and stop periodically to snog, trust me, the bitter single people who are out trying to quickly get food so they may get back to whatever semblance of a life they have will not feel happy for you and look longingly at you wishing they were you.

Rather, they will mutter, "Get a room, already" under their breaths and push past you to get to the cereal aisle.

But that's not what I feel guilty about. It's this:

I was not home ten minutes - I had, in fact, just washed up a little spinach so I could have a bit of nutritious food before the snacks tonight - when the phone rang.

It was my co-leader.

"Was movie night supposed to be tonight?" (oh, crud, no. don't let everyone be sick or something)

Yes, I said. It was.

"Oh, well, they've already got all the decorating done for the installation tomorrow, and there's already food for tomorrow out on the counters and stuff." (I hope none of it was food that was supposed to stay hot or cold...) "If we go down there now it might be a problem."

Yeah, I can see that. I can see getting raked over the coals because there was a 1" square piece of potato chip bag on the floor the next morning. Or someone will very spectacularly spill a pop and we won't get it perfectly cleaned up.

Yeah, I sighed, maybe we better not do it tonight (Luckily it was a movie I owned the dvd of, not a rented movie).

"We could do it next week!"

next week is my birthday. I did not mention that. But I said, "I already have plans for next week. I can't be there."

"Well, I guess we'll have to find another time at youth group tomorrow night."

But now I feel guilty...how much easier it would have been for me to have just caved, and said, "Yeah, I'll be there next Saturday evening." And then either not have gone to McKinney, or gone, and looked at my watch the whole time, and maybe rushed back a little earlier than I would have otherwise in order to set up and be on hand.

And I can never enjoy myself fully when I have some "big" responsibility the same day to look forward to. (And yes, keeping the teen youth corralled during a movie, and making sure they clean up after themselves, can be pretty big).

I'm telling myself I have no justification to feel guilty: that I deserve to have a fun birthday, that I should not have to change my plans (even flexible plans that involve only me) just to accommodate other people.

I would feel totally no guilt if, for example, I had (say) a sister in town for my birthday, and we were going to go do something. Or if I had a significant other and he and I were going to go do something. But when it's just me...I make it too easy for me to say, "Oh, okay, I'll change my plans" or, if I don't, I feel guilty. And I know I should believe I merit enough to make plans and be able to keep them.

And yes, I'm posting this in part to get verification that I'm OK in keeping my own plans, especially since my birthday RARELY falls on a weekend day when I can actually go and do something...

On the upside: there's an NCIS marathon on tonight (apparently) and I can now sit down and do some hand quilting. Which I wanted to do today but really didn't have time for. On the downside: now we will have to go through another round of trying to schedule a movie night. (And I have two 8-packs of pop, and chips, and cookies in my car...if we can schedule the movie night in the next month or so that will be fine, but if not, they might not be fresh)

I also forgot to mention: The Adagio Tea's ButterBeer tea is very good. It is not as strongly flavored as the scent would suggest, but the tea itself is good - it is mild and has a nice subtle caramel-and-cream aftertaste. I tried it first black, but I might try it next time with milk and sugar to see if that makes the flavor seem more intense.

Incidentally, another Adagio Tea favorite of mine is the chestnut tea, which is strangely not listed in their list of "regular" flavors but is one of the "holiday" flavors. (The "Candy Cane," also a holiday flavor, is good, too, if a little bit gimmicky.)

And I see now they have a hazelnut flavor, I'll have to remember to try that next time I order. (I'm working down on the Chestnut, so it will be not too far off that I place my next order).

Yesterday I (finally) got the rest of the windows put in. (The installers were supposed to come last Thursday; mid-morning - in the middle of the snow storm - the woman called, very chagrined, to tell me that they had left their home in Bonham but had to turn back around, as the roads were too bad. Well, I doubt I would have wanted them to be trying to install windows in all that snow anyway).

It took them longer than expected. Because, these were the infamous painted-shut (not by me; by the previous homeowner) windows. They were really hard for them to get out. (I was home for the installation and didn't really have anything to do; so I watched them work*). But, even though it took more than 4 hours, they got the new windows in and trimmed up and insulated and everything. (Just in time for our next cold snap next week, it looks like).

I was somewhat surprised to find that Lowe's was only paying them $35 for the day - they didn't mention that but when they gave me the contract to sign off on, I saw that's what Lowe's was giving them. I remarked that that was a terribly small amount of money for as much work as they put in, but the woman kind of shrugged and said, "Well, we already got paid for the installation; that's really just the cost of our mileage for today." So I guess it's all right, but I would have liked to have seen them get more for the extra day of work, considering it was Lowe's screw up. But whatever.

(*It strikes me that doing stuff like window installation, or drywall work, or that sort of thing - IF you are strong enough (I had a friend who did drywalling to help put herself through grad school and she talked about how built up her arms and back got during the jobs) and if you know how to do it, really wouldn't be that bad of a job. Oh, I suppose, in some cases you would have to deal with difficult homeowners who complain and are demanding. But the "tear down" part of it, while it does require some ingenuity and patience (especially getting painted-shut windows out of their frames), it seems it would be kind of satisfying.

One thing I'm struck by when watching Dirty Jobs - and I really don't think it's put on for the show - is by and large, how happy a lot of the folks are at their work. I suspect that, doing demolition, particularly, can be very cathartic. Not that I would necessarily want to be a toilet-removal technician from condemned buildings or such, but it does seem like the jobs featured, though they have unpleasant parts, are not any worse - and are probably are better, in some aspects - than the standard desk job in the corporate world. (Or maybe I'm prejudiced, my main view of the corporate world being my brother's fairly short and not very happy tenure at a rather large insurance concern, and multiple watchings of "Office Space," which my brother declared 'creepily reminiscent' of his own experience. Well, except for the part about hacking the computers to skim a few cents off every transaction...)

But the windows are done. It will be really nice to have windows that OPEN, when we get those nice warmish-but-not-hot spring days, when it feels like it would be good to air the place out. (Yes, I know, with my allergies I really should not have the windows open too much...but there are some days when you just HAVE to have a nice breeze blowing through the house, and the sound of the birds.)

****

And while I was home, watching the installers, I opened my packages.

Wow. Thank you, Angie! What a nice surprise - a dvd of the Wallace and Gromit movie I have not yet seen (the newest one), and a copy of "The Shuttle," and the Knitted Gifts book - which is a wonderful book and has quite a few things in it I want to make - the little "kind of like a shawl vest" is one of them, and the his-and-hers socks are another. And there are some neat felted potholders, and my mother was bemoaning over Christmas break about how all her various potholders were getting old and worn and grimy...

I appreciate it very much. "The Shuttle" will probably be my take-it-with-me-over-Spring-break to read book.

And the other package was not, as I expected, the swap-package (so I have that still to look forward to!). It was a couple packages of one of my favorite candies ever - Buderim Ginger Bears - from a friend on CPaAg, thanking me for "turning her on to" them. (I can't find them for sale in my area: most "World Market" stories carry them but of course I do not have one of those anywhere near me).

I like spicy candies, both ginger and cinnamon. I don't like "hot" things per se - at least not hot peppers in things - but I do like the heat of ginger or cinnamon. (I remember once I bought some Jelly Bellies from one of those places where you can get the kinds you want. My mom ate some and then told me to warn her the next time I got a mix with the "double cinnamon" ones in it).

I also got FOUR magazines yesterday. (I wonder if many of them originate on the East Coast and were delayed by the bad weather). Already read through the Spring Interweave Knits, and wow, it's a nice issue. Lots of pretty things in there and I'm definitely making the Wasabi Pea socks - I even have the exactly right color of yarn (the one used in the original) in my stash, just waiting for the right pattern.

****
This is going to be a busy weekend: tomorrow is Honors Day (we interview prospective Honors College students as part of a scholarship competition) (Though I don't have to be here until a bit after 9, which is later than I usually do during the week). Then Saturday evening, it's Movie Night for the Youth Group. Sunday is also busy; on top of the regular stuff it's the installation of our new pastor (and yes, there have already been the requisite light-bulb jokes made concerning the term "installation"), so there's a lunch after church.

So I am taking this afternoon off...I already wrote the exam I need for next week, and besides, I need a little free time (and I need to get out and get the swap-package together for my swap partner). Sometimes it's really nice, when you're busy, to just take a couple hours and do something different, not work related.

Leaving the house this morning (previous post was written at home), I found three packages on my doorstep. (UPS sometimes comes quite late in the day, and while I think the guy did knock last evening, I heard it and thought it was something else - a neighbor's dog doing something, or the silverware drawer "shifting" (If I leave it open, sometimes it unbalances and makes a noise).

I didn't take time to open them; I was already running a little bit late (as it was, I had to be careful as I got behind a school bus. I'm preternaturally scared of not stopping far enough back when they stop and getting a ticket)

One was (I'm guessing) my Mod-Swap stuff from CPaAg. There are also two things from Amazon...and now that I think about it, my last backordered book came a while back. So, hmm....wonder if that means my birthday is starting early this year? (It's next Saturday. And thank goodness it's NEXT Saturday and not THIS Saturday; this Saturday is Honors Day and I also volunteered to help run a movie night for the youth group kids - and so would not have had time to go out and do something fun).

I think I will go ahead and open them, though, when I get home. Thanks in advance if you were the one who ordered something for me. I can't wait to see what they are...

Friday afternoon I've designated as "go out and get the rest of your mod-swap presents for your swappee, and get the box sent off." I think I'm going to go to the Texoma Peanut Inn and see what kind of peanutty things they have, and also see if they have some kind of fun souvenir thing. I was really thinking originally that a rose rock would be a super-cool "something from my part of the world" gift, but I'm not sure where you can get one on short enough notice. And I may take a run to another shop I know, that I think I saw chocolate bars from Bedre (which is in Pauls Valley) at.

And NEXT Saturday, I am going to McKinney. It's been a long time since I've been there - it's been a long time since I've really been out anywhere, I'm trying to limit my shopping pretty strictly because (a) I really have all the craft supplies and stuff I need and (b) I really need to be saving money, especially with the plumbing stuff coming up. But I'm granting myself a reprieve from being frugal for that one day (and oh, I get paid the day before...so my account will have an infusion) and just go and enjoy. Definitely a trip to the new home of Quilt Asylum is in order, and lunch out somewhere, and spending time in the antique shops.

I was originally waiting until I had finished the pair of these socks to photograph them, but as I finished the first sock (in a matter of days) over break, and the second sock is taking weeks (multiple), here's the first sock:



The difference in completion times is entirely related to how many responsibilities I have and, in particular, how many evening meetings.

The pattern is "Grandiflora," which I think I ordered from The Loopy Ewe. The yarn is Black Bunny, the blue-faced Leicester (from that breed of sheep). The color is called "How Now," which I assume has something to do with brown cows.

They're not colors I would have thought to put together but having seen them together, I really like them.

One thing about the pattern, though: it's very tight. If I were going to make these again I'd probably go up a needle size for the leg and foot, and use a slightly thicker yarn. Or try rejiggering the pattern with another repeat. Or something. I can JUST get it on my foot, but I always worry about tight socks, especially tight socks with lots of yarn-overs, that the strain of pulling them on and off will wear them out fast.

Because I am waaaaaay too pointy-headed and have more education than is good for me:


moar funny pictures

Another LOL recaption.

I'm in a better mood now.

I got the "galley proof" (a .pdf file. Not quite as romantic as how they used to do it) of my most recently-accepted paper this morning. It's always so...I don't know, so heartening, or something, to see the thing you wrote finally typeset and in "real" form, rather than manuscript form.

I printed off a copy and tacked it up on our "bragging wall" - where we put up things like grant acceptances and newly published papers. I'm not QUITE self-promotional enough to stop people and go, "Hey, did you see my latest paper?" but hopefully someone will notice it up there.

This one was nearly 2 years in going to press, thanks in part to reviewer delays. (That said - I was spared Reviewer 3's comments, because Reviewer 3 never got around to it. And supposedly the old legend is that it's Reviewer 3 who always screws you over in the paper-acceptance process.)

Crud. Why am I so good at letting one person's upset-ness color my whole mood? I'm not good at looking at cases of people upset about something and going, "Ok, you have a reason, it's valid" or "No, I'm sorry, you're being kind of a baby about this." I tend to give everyone's upsetness credence. And it wears me down.

I was in a good mood when I came into work and now I'm not in such a good mood. I know I need to work on not being unduly influenced by other people - especially people who are being kind of a big baby and complaining about something I would just shrug over - but there you have it.

Forget "insufficiently aggressive." I'm just plain too easily bullied.

Last night, I got on a Shostakovich kick. I always forget how much I love his compositions when I've not listened to them for a while. There's such humor and warmth there (or at least that's what I get from a lot of them).

This piece is an arrangement of a well-known tune (In Russia, it's apparently better known as "Tahiti Trot," which is, I think, Shostakovich's renaming of it). This was the outcome of a bet: a conductor who had worked with Shostakovich bet him 100 rubles that he could not (a) arrange the piece from memory, having heard a recording of it and (b) do so in under an hour.

Shostakovich won the bet handily, and we have this lovely confection as a result:



Shostakovich, at least in the earlier photos of him I've seen, was also quite cute in that studious/rumpled way that I like. I suppose it's partly the glasses that do it.

The Enormous Project is done! I didn't use up every last inch of the yarn, but it came pretty close. Close enough for me to feel like I wasn't flaking out on it (making it shorter than it really should be). Now I have the fun of finding a couple of the other items specified in the swap:

- something good to eat
- something from my local area.

As my swappee has not noted a nut allergy (but did note other allergies), I'm considering driving to the local peanut shop and buying them a bag of in-the-shell nuts. That's local. Or I might look for either a t-shirt or a ballcap with my university logo on it - it won't be locally made, but it will represent the local area.

I'll photograph it before I send it out, and post the photo after my swappee has received the box. I'm pretty proud of the project, it was a big project and I really pushed myself to make the deadline.

(Though I have to admit I prefer the more desultory sort of knitting-for-myself where I can pick up and put down projects on a whim, and work on what I feel like working on).

***

Although I've been making an effort to spend less money, I did order myself one little thing recently. It came too late yesterday afternoon to try it out, though.

Adagio teas- a company from which I've ordered a lot in the past, they sell all kinds of wonderful loose teas - has a "blending" service. You can either make your own blends, or look at what other people have come up with. I had seen a comment made on Twitter about a tea called "ButterBeer" (inspired by the beverage in the Harry Potter books). It looked interesting and I wanted to try it out. It came yesterday but arrived late enough in the day (after 4 pm), when it's not safe for me to consume caffeine (sometimes if I even drink a cup of tea after 4 pm, I don't sleep well).

I'm looking forward to trying it though; it smells marvellous. The strongest note is butterscotch, but there also seems to be some vanilla and maybe a nut flavor in there as well.

I know, probably some of the "serious" tea people look down on the flavored teas, but I really enjoy them. Partly, it's because I can't drink coffee (it's not just the caffeine, something else in it doesn't agree with me), so I'm closed out of all the mochalattechino things that other people drink. But also, it's fun. Some flavored teas are not so good, but some of them - Adagio's almond flavored and chestnut flavored, and also the "Bavarian Forest Berries" teabags I keep in my office - are good.

(Incidentally, Adagio has all kinds of blends...you can search them by "group." They actually have Dr. Who inspired teas, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer inspired teas...yeah, kind of twee, I know. But the ButterBeer tea does smell very good. And it has a cute, Hogwarts-inspired label.).

They also have a "Cow Plant" tea from the Sims 2. I don't think it confers extra life, though. (Nor does it eat your neighbors).

Hm. Tea as fanfic. Or fanfic as tea. Interesting concept.

They also have Zodiac teas, but I will never be able to try "mine", as it contains chamomile, which I am fairly allergic to. (I can use bath products with it in, but I think drinking it in a tea would not be good for me. I once had tea with the (closely related) safflower flowers in it, and I got a headache every time I drank it).

That said, some of those Barnum Statements on there about Pisceans are rather flattering. (Not sure how "flexible" I am, though. Both physiologically and emotionally.)

****

I would like to finish a few projects up sometime. I saw the blue sky today and thought of the lovely, bright turquoise yarn I have in my stash for the Basketweave pullover, and got itching to start that. I'm always happiest working on a new project.

Thanks, dragonknitter! I kind of suspected it was you.

I think my favorite track on the album (and yes, darnit, I am going to continue to call these things "albums," even if they are on CD) is probably either the Willie Nelson version of "Good Night, Irene" or the Chieftans' take on "Cotton Eyed Joe" - that one starts off as you would expect it, but then 10 or 15 bars in, it metamorphoses into an Irish step-dance tune. I laughed and clapped with delight the first time I heard it. It's really wonderful how seamless the change is: the meter stays the same, it doesn't seem to change key (and I'm getting better at noticing things like that, now that I play the piano some)

Really, it does make sense to mix "trad" country (I don't care so much for country "pop," but I do like some of the traditional stuff. And I like Willie Nelson (and Dolly Parton) even though I don't typically care for most country music) and Irish music, because a lot of the people through whom what we now call country music developed were Irish or Scots-Irish people in the "hills" of Appalachia. There's a definite kinship between things like bluegrass and traditional Celtic music.

The final track is also interesting, in that everyone who performed on the album (even Bela Fleck, who is there, but you didn't really notice him before) gets their turn - it's 12 minutes long and a big messy (in a good way) compilation of stuff. And there's laughter in the background, and whoops, and comments - it sounds like they're having a good time.

I suppose "how you do anything is how you do everything." One thing that interests me is the "phylogeny" of music types, how different forms grew out of other forms. And also foods...I was reading my big funny (it's burlap-bound and looks VERY 60s-counterculture) "The People's Cookbook" and they were talking about how ravioli and things like Pierogi could really be traced back to the steppes of central Asia and China. And it's interesting to think about: most cultures have some form of filled dumpling. And they have some form of flatbread. And I wonder how much of the similarities are due to cross-pollination (dumplings apparently being introduced along trade routes, and also possibly to Italy by Marco Polo) and how much is what we could call "convergent evolution" if we were speaking biologically (there are only so many ways you can cook an unleavened bread if you do not have an enclosed oven...which many people in India did not have, nor did most Mexican farmers have...hence the chapatti and the tortilla)

And also many cultures have a donut-like object. And today is Fat Tuesday, a/k/a Pancake Day, a/k/a Paczki day (ah, to have access to a REAL paczki. If I were willing to drive to Dallas, I'm sure I could find a bakery with them, but I'm not willing to do that just for a donut). I may have to do a little something to mark the day. I don't do the full-on Giving Up Stuff for Lent (my brother and sister-in-law went vegetarian one year; I know people who give up sweets. And it used to be traditional to not use eggs or butter - which is why the pancakes and donuts the day before: to use them up and also have one last big blow-out of the good stuff before the 40 days of abstention.) I suppose the local Episcopal church is doing their Pancake Day again; they usually do, but I never seem to make the time to get down there.


****

Still haven't finished the new "Neverending Project of Neverendingness." I'm down to about 1/8 of the ball of yarn left, but for small balls, the yarn I'm using has lots of yardage. I'm going to make a push to finish this tonight, so I can assemble the rest of the swap-stuff so I can send it off soon.

I find these days I can really only concentrate on one "big" project at a time. I think next up after this one is finished is to work more on Honeycomb. (Especially since I realize that to do the sleeves for Thermal, I will need the shorter size 3 needle I am using on Honeycomb. Or buy another one, which would also be an option...)

There's an interesting - if perhaps slightly macabre - discussion going on in ITFF about the shootings in Alabama.

And an odd thing that it makes me think of. (And I almost hesitate to post this, but, whatever. Accuse me of being a Pollyanna who tries to see the good in any situation). For years, after a negative experience in graduate school at the University of Michigan, I believed that I was "insufficiently focused" or "not quite smart enough" or "too much of a dilettante" or whatever to be "cut out for" a Research I school. That, if I were "good enough" I'd wind up teaching and doing research at a Research I school, but I wasn't, and so I was best off accepting what I could do.

In light of some of the things I've read - comments about the "Harvard attitude" and such, I'm coming to realize it's NOT that I'm "not good enough" for a Research I school, it's rather that:

a. I prefer to have a life outside of my work

b. I am almost certainly insufficiently aggressive to survive at a Research I place.

And both of those things are just who I am: they are not bad things or good things. They are me, and I need to honor them more.

And, once again, I realize that the place I did wind up fetching up was probably the best sort of place for me: most of my focus is on teaching, but I LIKE teaching and I think I'm at least reasonably good at it. And what research I do is not the sort of get-up-at-2-am-and-truck-into-the-lab-to-check-cells kind of thing; it's the kind of thing I can fit into my life, rather than fitting my life into my research. (Fitting your life into your research is fine for some people, not for me.)

So again: rather than berating myself for not being more monomaniacal about research, I should perhaps be grateful that I was wise enough (even, perhaps, without even thinking about it) to wind up in a career somewhere that is a generally good fit for me. That I am not, as I have sometimes accused myself of, "wasting my life" (because I don't have more publications or more prestigious research), I should rather be happy that I have a diverse life, where I can make time to read books (not about biology) and knit and quilt and play the piano and try to get a room full of snickering teenagers to focus on what the Parables are trying to teach us. That my role in this world must be intended to be something different than someone who generates grants and research almost to the exclusion of everything else.

I am SO close to being done with the gifty-present (this is for a swap). I'll be glad when it is: it's something bigger than I should have taken on and I admit I'm coming a bit to resent the time I have to put into it to get it done. But I might get it finished tonight.

Today I give the exam that I would have given Friday; I have to grab my knitting bag as I go out the door so I have something to work on while I invigilate. (I've taken to carrying both the current "simple socks" and Thermal in it).

This is the little valentine's day present to self I referred to. Really, it was more a gift of taking the time to do something I wanted to do, rather than working on the gift-project or any of the ongoing things. I completed it this weekend.

This is "Cuddles."



Cuddles is knit using the Hugs and Squoze pattern from Mochimochiland. I just made the main "big" toy (called Hugs, there), because (a) I just didn't feel like making the little one and (b) I kind of wanted the "hugs" all for myself.

Cuddles is very affectionate.



He seems to love me.

He also loves tea.



And he loves Charmaine-the-Monster, though she's not entirely sure what to make of him:



I knitted Cuddles from some Moda Dea "Cartwheel" from my box of undesignated-but-purchased-for-toymaking yarn (I will buy yarns when there is a small amount on a good sale - like there was with this - if it seems like it might be used in the future to make a toy out of. I have a nice little stash of yarns like these. Which is good, because my one "local" option for yarn (the Mart of Wal) seems to be eliminating their craft department. Which means having a stash is even more important).

The "ears" (They are called horns in the pattern but I think they are really ears; such an affectionate creature must be a good listener) are knit of that Bernat glow-in-the-dark yarn. But they don't glow that well, so I didn't try taking a picture.

The yarn I used - the Cartwheel - is actually a bit heavier than worsted (though it's marked "worsted") and is a thick-and-thin yarn. I used size 6 needles, and so, Cuddles came out a bit bigger than the pattern predicted.

I also made the face different from what the pattern indicated, I wanted more of an "anime cute" face. I think it turned out very effectively; Cuddles makes me smile when I look at him, which is really part of the raison d'etre of a toy, anyway.

The name - Cuddles - is actually taken from the nickname of one of my mother's favorite "character" actors, S. Z. Sakall (Though I see, from that page at least, he apparently disliked the nickname. His "first" name (actually a stage name) was not one I think many Americans could pronounce correctly, though). I think of him first as "Uncle Felix" (the restauranteur) from "Christmas in Connecticut" but I also know him from "In the Good Old Summertime."

I also made double-corn cornbread to go with the beans. It was VERY good and almost laughably easy to make: you take a prepared "Jiffy" cornbread mix (mix, plus egg and milk), add a drained 12 ounce can of corn (actually, less corn would be more ideal: that amount made the bread break apart very easily). Cook it the usual time.

I almost always use a Jiffy mix when I want cornbread. They are inexpensive, they are easy, they are good, and for me, they have the little nostalgic punch of coming from Chelsea, MI - not far at all from where I used to live (Ann Arbor. And to my amazement - that's almost 20 years ago now.) I think a few times going out of town on field trips or to visit friends in the area I drove past the mill, I remember seeing the big towers (probably grain silos) with the Jiffy logo painted on them.

(The cornbread is probably the best mix they make. The pizza dough is not too bad either but I find that the cakes leave a little to be desired. Then again, I don't care for most "box" cakes.)

They announced the names of the dead and injured in the campus shooting on CNN. None of them were people I knew (When you have attended several different universities, gone to lots of professional meetings, and served on committees, you often get to know people briefly and then lose track of them).

It's still one of those sad and freaky things but I've concluded that the shooter HAD to have something else going on... I have been in a couple situations where someone on my campus failed to get tenure (or if they were TFT [temporary full time - edited for clarification], they didn't get their contract renewed). The worst that happened was one person who went around and told everyone EXACTLY what they thought of them. Though I think their perceptions were skewed; they said several people I regarded as brilliant were "idiots who should not get tenure" and I was told I had "anger issues" because I got irritated with the person ONCE when they didn't uphold their end of a promise.

(And I went home and felt bad about that for three days. And then concluded it was bunk and sour grapes on the individual's part. Because I'm actually pretty good at not expressing anger to other people, even when I am angry with them.)

Anyway. On to happier things.

I have a pot of beans done on the stove (I am keeping them warm, I need to get off here and make the cornbread I said I was going to have with them for lunch). Just simple pinto beans but it makes me happy to be able to take something so simple and relatively cheap and make good food out of it. I used basically the recipe from my Texas cook book: the beans, cleaned and rinsed, in water sufficient to cover them plus 2", an onion cut in chunks, two cloves of garlic. I also added about a teaspoon and a half of cumin (because I like cumin in beans) and a couple pieces of cut-up bacon (Because I didn't have salt pork, which is sometimes more traditional).

It's easy enough to do - just bring the beans to a rolling boil, then turn them down and check every hour or so to make sure there's still enough water in the pot. They're done when they're soft enough to eat. (The old trick from "The Long Winter" works, too: take a few beans out of the pot, blow on them, and if the skins split, they're done)

I made the whole 1-pound bag, which makes a lot, but I might freeze some, and I'm thinking of using some of the leftovers to make homemade frijoles refritos later this week. (Refried beans are one of my favorite things to eat, now. It's funny because as a kid, I would not touch dried beans in any form, but now I use them a lot - they are probably my second most widely used source of protein, after dairy)

I'm also knitting on a funny little thing...my Valentine's day gift, of a sort, to myself, using a Mochimochiland pattern. (And I got another couple valentine's things: my mom sent me a couple of homemade whoopie pies (the church my parents belongs to sends goodie boxes to college students...so she made extra of what she made for them and sent some to me and some to my brother and sister in law). And one of my friends on Ravelry - and this is one of those things that just blows me away about the generosity of people - sent me a valentine (one of those funny ones that kids exchange - hers had Captain Jack Sparrow on it) AND a bag of sweet and salty pecans, and some dark-chocolate pomegranate seeds (both from Trader Joes. I've never even BEEN IN a Trader Joe's.) And a couple skeins of yarn, enough for a scarf. And a beanie-baby version of Manny from the Ice Age movies. (Which cracks me up, given my Twitter comment of the other day about wanting a mini woolly mammoth. And I'm also reading a book on the end of the Ice Age right now.)

I'm also thinking about doing something for the youth group kids. If I can find a version on line of the "love letter from God" that one of the ladies read as a "devotional" at one of our meetings, I might print out enough copies so each kid could get one, and put it in an envelope, and give it to them.

No. No, no no no! Another campus shooting.

Apparently it was someone who was not granted tenure. Even worse: a biology professor. And a woman. Someone like me - and yet, obviously, profoundly UNLIKE me in some very important ways.

I don't know. These kind of things make me profoundly sad. I remember my own tenure-seeking days and how stressed I was. But had I not got tenure? My response would have been very different: I would have started scanning the job ads for positions opening up somewhere else. I would have cried, and gone home and raged to my empty house, beat my fists on the walls, screamed and cried and cursed in private. I would have called my family and wept on the phone to them. But I would never have dreamed of hurting another person.

I know that universities are workplaces like everywhere else. But it's a horrible thing to think that your workplace might be unsafe...and not unsafe because there's asbestos in the building or you do research with pathogenic bacteria. The thing that I find so scary about these shooter incidents is that there is nothing you can do to take precautions...with hazardous bacteria you can wear a respirator and gloves, and work in a laminar flow hood. With things like snakes and alligators good training and care and attention can protect you. But a person bent on doing evil....you're defenseless. You can't plan for it, you can't foresee it, you can't try and prevent it.

And what an awful way - what a horrible, unspeakable way - to lose someone you loved. To have them suddenly taken from you like that, without a chance to say goodbye. Just, poof. My thoughts and prayers are with the families of the victims.

And with every one of these that happens, I can feel my campus inching closer to restrictions like metal detectors and requiring us to wear our IDs on a lanyard at all times (though in this case? That might mainly be to identify the bodies; it looks like it was a professor who failed to get tenure who did the shooting).

I know lots of workplaces have those restrictions, but I really like the relative freedom of my campus - where you can come and go at will, where no one has to check you in or out or inspect the bags you are carrying. I hope that doesn't wind up going away in the fear over keeping us "safe."

Because I think if a person is really bent on doing evil, no amount of restricting the movement of the innocent is going to truly keep the innocent "safe."

I have my stack of research reading, and my new pair of "simple socks" to knit on, and I have a couple CDs queued up in the stereo (I can only listen to instrumental music, and that has to be fairly quiet and "familiar" - I have some Debussy and some Roger Quilter right now - to be able to read and listen).

Speaking of CDs, I realize I've been remiss. A couple days ago (agh, they all run together when you're busy), I opened my mailbox and found a little CD mailer in it.

I was puzzled, as I hadn't ordered anything. I opened it, and there was a copy of the Chieftans' "Another Country" (which had been on my Amazon Wishlist) in there. No invoice, no note. So I'm assuming a reader here arranged to have it sent to me.

Thank you, I appreciate it. (And I admit with embarrassment I haven't had time to listen to it yet. But this weekend I will.) If you want to reveal yourself that's great, or if you prefer to remain anonymous that's fine.

It almost embarrasses me a little...and sometimes I think I should take the wishlist down - because I feel like, I don't know, people sending me stuff...for my not really doing anything other than what I'd otherwise do...it's sort of humbling that people want to do that. But I do appreciate it.

Well, that's surprising.



That's the view out my front door about 40 minutes ago. This is more snow than I remember us EVER having, and I've lived here 10 1/2 years now.

Driving home was not fun. We don't have plows and we don't have salt. We do have sand and "chat" (and, having a student doing a research project on the Tar Creek site, the thought of "chat" being applied to our roads worries me a bit. But surely they wouldn't use the heavy-metal contaminated "chat"...). It was very skiddy, even in second. I took the "back way" home, the longer way that doesn't involve a steep hill with a blind curve, and I think I'm glad I did.

The surprising thing? They already closed campus for tomorrow. On one hand, yay: I don't need to set my alarm and I can spend tomorrow either relaxing (it's been a stressful week) or doing research-reading at home. On the other hand: I was supposed to give an exam tomorrow, and so will have to reschedule that.

I am doing laundry right now. Every time I hear a spin cycle start, I jump up in alarm and stare at the tub drain. So far one large-ish load has successfully drained twice, and the second medium-sized load is getting ready to do its first drain.

(Second load has now done its first drain successfully. I guess I am in the clear, drainwise.)

I know, I should trust that the plumbers fixed it based on the experiences of yesterday. But I've lived with the problem long enough that I can't quite relax and accept that it's gone for now.

I'm going to put the "teal deer" up front, so you don't have to read the whole thing if you don't want to.

tl;dr: The good news is the blockage is gone. The bad news is that I will probably need the line to the sewer replaced this spring or summer.

Okay. So. The longer version: I got home, saw the two cleanouts installed. Called the plumbing company to see if that meant they were really done or not. "Oh, they need to come back now that you're home." Turns out they needed me there for the "cabling*" so I could turn on and turn off taps and do things like flush large quantities of toilet paper for them.

(*The knitter in me is thinking: this is not like any kind of cabling I am used to.)

They first cabled with a grabby thing (kind of like on those claw machines) on the end. They cabled for a while, then the two plumbers (there were a total of four there) who were closest to the cleanout made a noise indicating approbation, looked at each other and nodded. "You hear that?" they called to me. I was standing up on my little side porch so, no, I hadn't. "The clog just broke up," he explained.

They cabled a while further, and then retracted the cable. It came up empty. "That's strange," mused one of the guys.

So they got out their camera thing. (I did get to see the "colonoscopy" of my drainage pipes after all). That's when the bad news came.

The pipes have roots in them. Quite a lot of roots at one point, where the clog had formed.

Now, I always wondered how roots GOT in pipes. I had visualized drain pipes as a single continuous length of cast iron or whatever.

"See that?" the plumber asked me. "These are the old clay pipes and every junction between sections has got roots." He kept snaking the camera on down, and by golly, yes, every junction had a little collar of roots growing into it.

So: old clay pipes (I presume like the terracotta things that are used for farm-field drainage? Which actually, some prairie restorationists, when they get a plot of drained land, will go through and break with a heavy metal probe so they can restore the original hydrology to the site...). The gaps let stuff in.

This also explains why once in a while I would find an earwig blundering around in my bathtub. They probably got in through the junction in the pipes, wandered around until they saw light, and then came up the lowest, easiest drain in the house. The house has largely been re-plumbed indoors (at least, the tub has), but they never did anything to the old drain lines.

The plumber said they could replace the clay pipes with a single length of PVC, which would eliminate the roots-growing-in problem.

Dismayed, I remarked, "Those roots are a big problem. They'll probably start another clog right away. I guess I better arrange for the new drain line. I know you won't be able to do that right now, with as wet as it's been."

"Well," the plumber said. And then, "Darrell, get that cutting blade and put it on the cable."

They ran the cable through again. Ran it really far. It did hit pretty big resistance in a couple points. They cabled it out - as they said - pretty much to the join-up with the sewer. When they pulled it out, there were just a few roots hooked on to it.

"All that work," I said, "And almost no roots."
"Oh," the plumber responded, "It cut the roots. It just pushed them down into the city sewer is all."

They didn't offer to re-camera - and at that point it was nearly 4 pm and I had errands yet to run so I didn't press the issue. They did bring out another of their "toys" (I think they enjoy showing homeowners the technological stuff they have). It was kind of like ground-penetrating radar combined with a metal detector - they used it to outline the path of the old clay pipe, and find the "tap" where it joins to the city line.

The bad news is, if I want to make things the best they can be, is that the city will need to replace the "tap" and the line up to my property (which, they warned me, the city charges a lot for - more, it seemed to me, than they seemed to think they should) and then they could come in and put in the new line.

I may wind up losing my forsythia and Japanese quince; they are right in the way. The plumbers did offer to try digging them with a root ball so I could transplant. And I figure, if the bushes die, I can get new ones. I think forsythia is pretty cheap. (And maybe I can wait until after they flower for this year to have them taken out. I don't know.)

Anyway. I need to call M and O (which is the sewer department) in my city and start making those plans (I figure: I have the money now, it's better to do something like that sooner rather than later). My avoidant side is saying "Oh, think about that later on, you've just gone through the stress of trying to get the line cleared" but the side of me that foresees problems too well says, "No. Get it done NOW before more roots grow in and you have another clog."

And, I don't know. I think I'd prefer just getting the new line put in to having to get the thing rooted out periodically and maybe suffering the same (or worse) problem in the future. (Because now that I think of it, I was incredibly lucky. I could have had sewage backing up into my sinks and stuff and be facing all kinds of horrible cleaning and sanitizing jobs. As it was, I did once or twice run some bleach through the tub because the water that backed up looked iffy)

I don't like spending the money - and it will be a lot, like, upwards of $2000 including the city stuff, but I remind myself that this is exactly why I live "below my means" - so that when something like this happens, I can go to my savings account, take out what I need to pay for the fix, and then gradually build the account back up over time.

I did also find out why it was so hard to get them out. The city hospital had a plumbing emergency last week...apparently the old cast iron drain pipes had corroded. The plumbers said they were working 32 hours straight on the problem. Because, unlike with a homeowner, where they could go to a motel overnight, or stay with friends, if a job couldn't be finished, you can't close down an entire hospital.

So anyway.

I figured they had fixed the problem- they had me fill the washing machine drum and make it empty, and flush the toilet multiple times, and open all the taps. But I am an empiricist, so I decided to test the drainage later that night.

I thought of doing laundry, but meh, I was tired.

So, I decided to do something I had not been able to do since the problem first cropped up in November: I drew a hot bath. And took the bath, and read in the bath, and tried to put the, "eventually you are going to have to see if this will drain" out of my mind.

And then, as the water cooled, I got out, opened the plug, and watched.

There were a few tense moments: at first, a full tub looks like nothing is happening as it drains. I actually set my hand at the water level just to assure myself that the water was receding.

But recede it did, and eventually the little vortex formed around the drain, and all the water drained out.

I estimated (measuring my tub later, it is just shy of four feet by two feet, and the bath was not quite a foot deep - so let's say just shy of 7 cubic feet. And there are about 7.5 gallons in a cubic foot (I had to look that up, it's a lot more than I would expect) that there was just over 50 gallons (wow. Baths DO take a lot of water) in there.

And it all drained. And it didn't take an unexpectedly long time.

And I decided to gamble, so I flushed the toilet. (Heh. Like pulling the lever on a slot machine). The water went down. The water refilled the bowl. Nothing happened that should not have happened.

So, it's fixed. For now. I'm going to do laundry tonight without too much fear.

In honor of this (And as maybe a reward for those who read this far), a little cartoon:



"Water go down the hoooooooooooooole!"

(And of course, you all know: don't flush anything that's not meant to be flushed. Well, unless you have a really attractive plumber, as was the premise of an ad I saw once...but even then, I'd rather have functional plumbing than watch a cute plumber...)

Sometimes, stupid things make me laugh.


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As I said on the CPaAg group, apologies to real hillbillies. (And I know, it's an old joke, but seeing it in LOLcat form made me laugh.)

speaking of things I think are beautiful

Now I'm really itching to start another pair of those overlapping leaves socks.

I kind of wish I could dye yarn. Or rather, that I had the time and the set-up to do it. It seems fun, and when you get good at it, the results are lovely.

Another thought:

I'm not sure how I feel about the idea of the idea of there being a specific guild for "modern" quilters.

On the one hand, I like the idea that a style of quilting I enjoy doing - and often like the finished product of - is getting bit of recognition. And that maybe people who don't go to a "traditional" guild could find a home there. But on the other hand, I twitch a little when people start divvying themselves up into smaller and smaller groups. A couple of reasons for that:

1. If you only meet with people who do the same style as you do, you don't learn as much. Or you might miss out on inspirations you would otherwise see. I've said many times I don't care as much for applique - like the big Baltimore Album quilts - both to do and in a quilt, as I do for geometric patchwork patterns. But I also recognize the artwork and the skill in doing applique, and I like being able to see examples of it from time to time and watch appliquers at their work.

2. (and I think this is the one that concerns me most) When people split off into factions, it gets faction-y. People begin to judge each other. "Oh, she does (sniff) TRADITIONAL quilts." Meaning, oh, she's an old stick in the mud. Or "She does that modern stuff." Meaning: I don't think she's bothering to develop her skills doing something challenging. Or "He does what he calls 'art' quilts." Meaning: the stuff he makes is just plain weird. Or: "She likes...novelty prints." Meaning: She doesn't have very good taste; her choice in fabrics is frankly kind of tacky."

And we don't need that. We. Don't. Need. That. Like what you like, dislike what you dislike...but it bugs me how some folk judge other people on the basis of choices that are personal. I understand the fact that some people get a feeling of something like superiority - or they allay their insecurities - by trying to make someone else look bad, but really, it's not helpful.

If I see something - say, a quilt - that I really love, that I think is beautiful, that I think is interesting, regardless of the technique, I'll link it here. And comment about what I like about it. If I see something I don't like, or that doesn't appeal to me, I tend to remain silent. Because, for one thing, I realize that what I like isn't what everyone likes, and second, it does seem kind of shabby to run down what someone else has done, when you could just as well either feature stuff YOU did, or praise the stuff people have done that you like.

(It's kind of like political ads, in a way. I'm far more prone to listen to an ad where the candidate says, "Here is my experience. Here is what I think I can do for the citizens" then if the candidate is merely saying, "My opponent is a big doody-head." Which, when it comes down to is, is what most negative ads essentially ARE).

So I express a little concern. Perhaps the idea of a new series of guilds is a good thing, it might let in people who don't feel welcomed in a "traditional" guild (but again: that should not be. Quilt guilds should - if they want to stay alive - welcome a diversity of people and a diversity of experiences.) But on the other hand, I don't want to see some bizarre Sharks vs. Jets rivalry spring up in the quilting world.

People are strange. They seem awfully good at seeing how other people are "different" or "weird" or "wrong" and not so good at seeing that at the most basic and important level, we are all pretty much the same.

As I was getting dressed this morning, I realized, "This is Old Knitted Stuff that I never had a photo of on the blog."

In fact, I think this was something I knit even before I had the blog. I sort of remember working on it over Christmas break, 2001.



It's yet another vest. This one is from a long-ago issue of Knitters, it was a pattern designed for the Lion Brand "thick and quick" chenille (which I think is no longer being made).

I wear a lot of vests - and I knit a lot of vests. Part of this is that vests are a little quicker, and take less yarn (a consideration, cost-wise: especially since I am not TINY, it takes more yarn to make things for me. It's also a consideration, amounts-wise: Often I see something like 850-900 yards of a nice yarn, but there isn't any more of it (not enough for a sweater with sleeves), but I want to make something with it).

But also, I find if my torso is warm, I am warm. And in some of the classrooms, sleeves are actually a bit too much (one of the rooms I teach in is chronically overheated). And without sleeves, there's less chance of getting chalk dust, or soil, or some random chemical on something I've knitted and spoiling it.

One thing I like to do with the clothes I knit - or sew, when I do sew for myself - is to put a little time and effort into finding nice buttons. I think they are one thing that makes the difference between a nice handmade item and a commercially purchased one. (I also know people who don't sew, but who do go and replace the "meh" buttons on purchased clothing with nicer ones from a dressmaker shop so that they can have more distinctive buttons).

The ones for this vest came from the dressmaker shop in my parents' town:



(Actually, that one's a bit off true; the three center leaves should be on the bottom. But I didn't feel like twisting the button and re-photographing).



***

And here's hoping the plumbers can finish the task today. I left the garage door open just in case they needed access to an electrical plug. (I wasn't going to go off leaving my house unlocked, even though I know people in town who do).


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I rescind the previously whiny post I had in this place. It seems entirely possible that the plumbers loosened or moved part of the blockage with their probing. I took a shower and washed my hair, and while I did turn the water off while lathering the shampoo and while putting in conditioner, it was not a notably shorter shower than usual.

And the water drained fine.

And I flushed after showering (ready to dive for the water shutoff if necessary), and that drained fine.

So at least I can still shower, which is a consolation.

Also: you do what you have to do:



That's my dinner - which I will hie to in a moment - set up on the little step-stool I use to reach the kitchen cabinets. So I can eat and watch NCIS. (I have to admit I kind of like Tobias with a beard.)

(Dinner: tortillas, refried beans, a glass of milk. Not quite balanced but I don't care at this point)

No joy. They either didn't find the drain line, or found it too late to install the cleanout tonight. They are supposed to return tomorrow.

I suppose this is some kind of cosmic lesson to teach me patience. It is not working very well. Patience I can learn by knitting a sweater on size 3 needles. I actually feel like my stores of patience are less now than they were.

The plumbers are here. I am in near disbelief.

The one guy said they can run a "feeler" from the little kitchen cleanout, find the line, put in a cleanout TODAY, clean it out, and I should be good.

I am not a great enough optimist to believe that all will happen until I actually see it, but I also have hope that the problem is on its way to a resolution.

I will also note that a City M and O (Maintenance and Operations?? I don't know) guy was looking in my neighbor's cleanout, which makes me wonder if multiple people on my street are having drainage issues - suggesting it is a larger, neighborhood wide issue that (I would hope) the city will fix soon.

Even if it IS a city problem, I still need the cleanout for the future.

The surprising thing? I was anticipating something like $5000 on the cleanout; turns out it should be less than $500. It seems a much more minor operation than I thought it would be.

(Unless I need a whole new drain line. I suppose that could be what happened to my neighbors, where their whole entire yard was torn up and even part of the street. I hope that's not it.)

And Charles, I wonder if we are somehow fatalistically linked; did you not have a failure of a water heater or gas line to same shortly before or shortly after mine?

Maybe I should have your cell # to warn you just in case my house ever blows up or something.

Well, at the very least, I now have a clean house.

(My plumber's name is apparently Waldo. Because I don't know Where he is.)

I came home at 11:30 or so, ate a quick lunch, decided that if he had to look in the drains the kitchen and bathroom better be clean, so I cleaned them. Then decided that I had a surfeit of nervous energy (I always do when I am waiting on something where its success or failure is not yet defined, or where it is not clear when the thing will happen), so I cleaned most of the rest of the house. (The guest room/office is not perfect, but as there is no plumbing access in there, there is not much point in doing it).

At 4:15 I am going to call them again and gripe at them. And tell them I have a piano lesson at 5, so I cannot sit around and wait any longer. And then tell them the afternoons I am free, and tell them to call my office when and if the plumber is on his way, as I live 5 minutes from my workplace.

I cannot AFFORD any more afternoons away from my office or lab without some guarantee of the plumber coming. This is, I fear, hurting me - I'm not getting research done and I look inaccessible, both of which are Very Bad Things as far as getting Full Professor is concerned.

Adult life is more complicated than it should be sometimes.

I did wind up sleeping last night. I think what I did wrong Sunday night was stayed up later than I "should" on a night when I didn't have to, and also spent too much time online right before bed (in part, trying to diagnose the slow-drain issue and see if there's anything I could do as a homeowner to fix it. The answers are most likely: roots, and no, unless I want to risk damaging my pipes.)

I also didn't take the usual 20-30 minutes to read before trying to go to sleep (because it was "already too late"). I think I need that actually to make myself stop thinking about the stuff that went on during the day.

And of course I did the thing every insomniac is counseled not to do: I would look at the clock and think, "Okay. If I can get to sleep NOW, I can probably get enough sleep to function normally tomorrow." And of course it never works that way, and at some point (around 3 am for me) it tips over to, "If I fall asleep now, I won't have very long before the alarm goes off anyway.")

It is very cold out this morning (Or so I am told; I am still home and have not been outside yet). They're telling us (on the local news) to "dress in layers," which they normally never do.

These are probably not warm enough by themselves outside, but depending on the temperature of my office over at work, I might be wearing them in my office:



This is the last finished project from over Christmas break. (I feel I have to specify "Christmas" now, seeing as it's been that long).

They are fingerless mitts, knit out of Austermann Step in one of the "Cocktail" colors (I forget what this one is called. I think of it as "yellow" rather than the cocktail name).



The pattern I used is "Porphyria," which is a free download from Ravelry (but you must be a member to have access). It's a simple and rather neat stitch pattern - it starts out as 3 by 3 rib, but then in the "pattern" row, you first knit together the 3 knitted stitches, and then immediately increase so that you have three knit stitches again - it looks ALMOST like a cable but is a lot simpler. (I could see using the same stitch pattern in socks).

I'm not sure why the name of the gloves, unless it's designed to be like the "Bella's Mitts" that are everywhere now. (Bella being the star of a rather popular book series featuring vampires that sparkle). I'm guessing this because porphyria is a disorder that supposedly was at one time linked with vampire legends, apparently because of the photophobia of people suffering with it. (I think that hypothesis has since been debunked...that it wasn't porphyria sufferers that gave rise to vampire legends).

I kind of forgot about the mitts when it got warmer for a while, but I think I'm going to pull them out now. They're a lot warmer than the lace mitts I have (they are longer, and also, no lace-holes to let the wind through). And the Austermann Step does have a bit of aloe vera embedded in it, it is supposed to soften the skin.

And the mitts match with my heavier winter coat, which is kind of a camel-hair color. Which I think I am going to have to be wearing today.