knit and tonic

Trying to Laugh it Off

It is hard to find nice looking reading glasses, you know, the ones that don't necessarily make you look like you are blind as a bat or ones that magnify your eyes to the size of melons. Usually, the reading glasses I find at the drugstore give me that middle-aged look, not that being middle aged is bad, or that cross-dressing is bad, or that someone who puts pink rinse on their gray hair rather than the usual blue is bad, either. It's just that I need to hang on to whatever thread of youth I have, and wearing reading glasses on the stationary bike at the gym sort of smacks of being middle aged, especially when they keep slipping off the tip of your nose when you are trying to read your large print best-seller novel.

Speaking of the cross-dressing reference, I thought that I wouldn't mention it, but I'm listening to Ru Paul's music at the moment and I just have to say that I went to the gym at my not-usual time. I didn't run into the interesting guy who always eats Hawaiian food out of a container whilst circling the cardio area, and I wish I did--just to mention it in passing and good old fashioned reverie. Instead, I happened upon the guy with the french manicure. He was walking out and I noticed he was wearing his gym shorts, a cute top, and sensible black heels. So, I quickly searched my gym bag for a few seconds, and coming up with nothing, I grabbed my Blackberry and texted HWWV. I wrote:

"I was just thinking that guys who cross dress normally don't have very good taste in shoes."

And he wrote: "Let me guess . . . You don't have your little memo pad with you today."

Then I wrote: "You're right; but I just had to say, that guy who does the female impersonator stuff just left the gym with a guy outfit and heels."

And he wrote: "Oh yeah; I've seen him. He does have bad taste in shoes. But he sure has a mean hair-do, even after a gnarly spinning session. I know this."

It is good to have someone in your life who understands you.

Back to the new glasses. The good news is, I finally found some reading glasses that I really like at Target for only a buck in the dollar bin. (Score!) I actually managed to wear them all day without losing them or sitting on them and I even chit-chatted with a nice and cute checker at the Whole Foods Market for a few minutes. You know, all in all, I could say I had a five-star day.

The thing is, I managed to wear these new specs the entire day without anyone pointing out that the sticker that said +2.00D was still on one of the lenses, and this sticker was stuck over my good eye, to boot.

BTW: I'm working up a pattern using the Damask, and I'm thinking a cute cardi, something you could throw on over a tank or even a bathing suit in a pinch. I'm sort of stuck right now, though because it is a lot like linen and other natural fibers and I want to put something lacy at the bottom, not necessarily lace, but something airy and I'm sort of not quite at the crossroads with the idea, if you know what I mean.

But at Least I can Pedal

It's hard not to feel sorry for yourself when you are sitting outside of the yoga joint, watching Girlfriend through the window doing her practice without you. It's hard because the hip, well, it ain't so good and all one can do without making things worse is the stationary bike or the elliptical trainer. And who likes those things? Especially when those are the only two choices. I mean, let me tell you, the stationary bike sure loses its zing when that is the only thing one can do.

So here I am, sitting in the tearoom at Yogaworks, the best yoga gig in town. HWWV is inside there taking pictures of all the kids doing their yoga and I'm typing this. I feel like I'm complaining, and I guess I am.

And I know someone will say, "but you have it good, I've had a hip replacement and I can barely walk." And then a next person will say, "barely walk? Barely walk? It would be a dream to barely walk! I can barely crawl." And then the next person will say, "hah! That'll be the day when I finally crawl again! Most of the time I just lay there."

"Yeah, but I have to lay under a volcano! One that always erupts! Right on my face!

"Volcano? You're lucky! A volcano! Just think of the beautiful sight of an erupting volcano! I have to lay on the asphalt and one of those asphalt rollers rolls over me day after day! I'm absolutely smushed!"

And so on and so on and so on and so on.

Now that I have that off my chest, I just bought 10 balls Rowan Damask and I think I shall make some sort of cover up for the beach/pool/yoga outfit (since I'm only a poser these days). I've started to write down the pattern and we'll see how it goes. The yarn is just beautiful. It looks even better when near a nice cocktail. But we all know that knitting and drinking don't go together, right? [Hah!] Which, reminds me of a funny story my friend Scout told me the other day. She told me she was talking to a close knitting friend and I guess he had a few beers. Anyway, he was knitting away and realized that he made a mistake and had to rip back a ton of his work.

And then, after he finished ripping, he discovered that he hadn't made a mistake after all, that he ripped back for nothing. That's what you get when drinking while knitting.

Off to drink and knit.

Preventive Swatching

Most days, I'll be sitting in the LYS, and if I am there for more than, say, 10 minutes straight and paying attention to the conversation, invariably two subjects will be discussed even for just a second. The first one is aches and pains or whoever is sick, has been sick, feeling like getting sick, or managed to miss the latest breakout of the flu, the runs, or chickenpox or who has a suspicious rash. The second subject is swatching.

Usually, the swatching conversation is carefully sprinkled throughout whatever other conversation is going on. It's a subtext, the elephant in the room, the one question that begs to be asked and answered whenever someone's project goes awry, doesn't fit, or doesn't turn out like the one in the picture.

(Whenever someone asks my favorite LYS gal: "Do I need to make a swatch?" She always answers: "Only if you want it to fit.")

So, yesterday, when I walked into the LYS a couple of the gals were actively ripping a garment. The first thing that popped out of my mouth: "Did you . . . "? and after a couple of glares in my general direction, she said she did but the thing stretched as she knit it. Then I said, but did you make a big enough "one" so you could see if it stretched before you cast on? (No answer.)

Now that is the kicker, isn't it? To make a swatch large enough to see how it behaves when washed, hung, or shaken? To see how it acts when it is steamed? To see if it shrinks? To see if it drapes, bags, or sags? Trust me; I know how it feels to really want to cast on a new project, but having been burned too many times to name, I make a swatch pretty much no matter what, except for when I make socks.

I guess swatching, even though it's difficult to make yourself do it, pays off in the end. Plus, there are multiple uses for swatches if you hang onto them. Just think of all the wonderful things you could use them for.

No Sense of Urgency Here

Don't you hate it when you buy some new yarn with all sorts of sugarplums dancing in your head whispering to you about how glorious it will all be, how that scarf will make you look once you finish it in an absolute flash, how that market bag will feel in your hands all stuffed with the stuff you should stuff in a market bag, especially since the yarn probably must be totally organic and all, why else would you make a market bag out of it? I mean, you wouldn't be making a market bag out of the stuff that probably must be organic unless you're going to be greener than any of your next door neighbors (or at least look greener).

If you ever get around to knitting it, that is.

So that's where I am today. At least in my head. Remembering how I felt when I bought this stuff. Remembering what I planned on making with it. Remembering  all the emotions I was sure I'd feel when the projects were finished.  Beating myself up for never getting around to starting the projects. Beating myself up for not even winding the yarn yet. Beating myself up for beating myself up for all the projects I wanted to make but never got around to.

Now I'm wishing I could knit with my toes. Wow, that is really stupid. Who'd want to knit with their toes? Especially since the person in question has perfectly good fingers. Perfectly good fingers that haven't knit a stitch in days. Perfectly good fingers that haven't knit a stitch in days and that haven't even touched the new yarn except to take a picture of it.

Time to shut up.

BTW: Here's a picture we took at the studios last week. From left to right: Shay Pendray, Me, Eunny Jang, and Kim Werker. Lot's of fun and a really great group of people.

On Travel and Hamburgers

There's something about getting out of town that is ever so slightly cooling or heating, and whichever way it goes, there is something healing about it.

Anyway. When I was sitting and waiting in the Green Room for the Knitting Daily TV show (taped in Oh-Hi-Oh!--See your PBS listings for the first show in July) with a group of gals who I can only say probably get out a heck of a lot much more than I do and are much more composed than I am, when I got called by the make-up artist so she could give me a look-over for the shoot, turns out, she had to re-do my make up from square one because the age spots were showing and, anyway, the eyebrows were a little thin and did I know that I could use a bit of brown powder under the jowls to make them disappear?

I told her, "yes, I know that the brown powder is supposed to work because, after all, I try the trick everyday to no avail and that the thinness of my eyebrows is something beyond my control since I have been in the habit of plucking out every white one that pops up."

"Well, that explains it," she remarked. "You'll have to start tinting them unless you want to be bald in a year or two. I'm thinking you can do the job whenever you tint your hair; you know, just dab some of the tint you use for your hair onto your eyebrows."

Then I said, "The thing is, my drapes don't match my valences." (Or, should it be: My valences don't match my drapes? or, The shades don't match the valences? . . . )

I suppose things could be worse.

We got home safe and sound, to honks and horns and birds flipped here and there on the freeway. Boy, what a difference. And can I just say that I won't be ordering hamburgers here anymore? I'm convinced all my talk about the great burgers in Cleveland has stunted whatever progress I've made on the establishments west of Ohio. Take a look at what they tried to serve us on the plane over Albuquerque.

To think I was a vegetarian for over 10 years until I got over it. Now I'm wondering if I should re-consider the deal.

On knitting news: If you are ever in the Cleveland-near-Avon area, visit Birds of a Feather. This is a wonderful shop. (They actually have nesting birds in the eaves of their barn [not that they'd be happy to hear this].) I absolutely loved visiting. The setting is amazing, and if you happen to quilt, too, the entire downstairs is devoted to quilt fabrics and I tell you what, it all makes me think of my grandma Helen and how she's about 94 these days and doesn't remember me or recognize me anymore (she's the one who taught me to knit and has lost her sight.) The second-to-last conversation I had with her was about how she wished she could knit again. The last conversation I had with her was about how much she missed her daughter--my mom--and how hard it is to be nearly blind. If only I could take her to a place like this so she could feel all of the fibers and see all the colors again.

BTW: If you are in the Cleveland area, I would also suggest you see some of the many cemeteries. They are abundant and you just might see a burial or two from the Civil War era. Amazing and dashing and sad and morbid and wonderful all at the same time. Girlfriend, when I told her about it all, said that she didn't want to get out of the car. I asked her why, and she said she didn't want to step on dead people.

Ohio

Ha. This morning we were the last ones to go downstairs and get breakfast. This afternoon, we were the first ones downstairs for free cocktails. Thing is, we read the sign wrong and we arrived one full hour early. Ohio.

I like Ohio. Well, I don't know if I really, really like it yet because I've only been here 20 hours, but there are things I've already noticed about Ohio that I think I like. First thing I noticed is, even the real old guys help you put your luggage on the bus. They smile at you, too. Second, road rage, at least on the few freeways we've encountered, doesn't seem to exist. At home, at three in the morning someone will show you the bird if they knew you could see them. Third, no one seems to be in that much of a hurry. In the beginning, we got to thinking the service was just bad. Then, we realized that the whole pace of the place is slower than Los Angeles, and that is something I could get used to.

But the very best thing I have discovered about Ohio so far is that you can order a hamburger medium rare, if you like. In Los Angeles, they have laws against such things. I mean, you could kill yourself eating a medium rare hamburger. And gosh knows, they wouldn't want you to sue them after you kill yourself eating a medium rare hamburger.  They'd much rather you sue them after you choke to death on a hamburger with the texture of a hockey puck, instead.

I managed to knit almost half of two socks. I love this new Regia Cotton Color. It is softer than the last iteration and the colors are amazing.

BTW: After tomorrow, I'll have a half-day to check out some yarn shops.

When it's Sad to Say Goodbye (Put the phone down already)

I woke up this morning feeling lousy. HWWV says it's stress but I think it is because the weather changed drastically. It's windy and hot, nearly 90 degrees, and sometimes when the weather suddenly turns I get really achy and flu-like and can't manage to even walk up the stairs. So that is how it is today, or that is how it was today, until I got an email from a reader who told me about a woman who was in her step class at the gym and took a number of phone calls while huffing and puffing and waving the one hand to the music while holding the phone to her head with the other. You gotta love that sort of thing or you gotta hate that sort of thing because I honestly can't stand it when people use their cell phones during times they shouldn't. I mean, the other day, a friend and I ate lunch at a bar in a restaurant and a woman sat directly across from me, ordered their finest Chardonnay, and proceeded to talk on the phone for more than an hour, eyes glazed but fixed directly on me, never wavering.

Yeah, and in Los Angeles, June will mark the month when a new cell-phone law comes into effect that states you can't talk on the cell phone while driving the car unless it is hands free. And you know what that means, for the months of June, July and August, car accidents will rise due to people frantically searching for their little earphones or fumbling while trying to plug the suckers in, and worse, those dorky Blue Tooth devices will be worn more than ever in public and in restaurants, making all of us non-Blue Tooth lovers wonder if, as these things rise again in popularity, a similar rise in delegate attendance at Star Trek conventions all over L.A. will be documented.

So, tomorrow I'm off to Cleveland--I'll be missing Rocko, that's for sure. I decided I will bring two pair of socks to work on (am packing some lovely Crystal Palace bamboo double points along just in case those nasty agents steal my circs), some orange cotton, a crochet hook and a pattern for boxer shorts. Yeah, I know, it's nuts, but at least I'm not crocheting a bra. (Hey: have you ever used those GoKnit Pouches??? Fab for travel. I also got some of those Pattern Tamers. I can't wait to put them to good use!)

BTW: Good news. I have worked out a deal with a distributor to make my patterns available to yarn stores, so that means they will be available soon in a nice hard copy format. I'm starting off with three Spring type patterns, Sizzle, Flair and Fad-Classic. As these are reformatted, I will reformat the patterns available on my site at the same time to update their look, etc. See the right hand sidebar for more information and a link to the distributor, Deep South Fibers.

Don't Tell Anyone About the Secret Life of Circs

With all the talk on forums and such about what sort of implements you can take on a plane for knitting or other pursuits, you'd think I'd actually go and check to see if metal circular needles would pass security. Thing is, instead, I could not decide which yarn to bring. I mean, really, one must have at least a few projects to choose from when they travel. Why limit? Why? (I think I will limit my choice to two types of yarn.)

But, after finally checking the TSA about what type of items you can actually bring onto an aircraft without being shushed or taken aside for a frisk, I realized, that you can, in fact, or at least they say this online, take knitting needles onto a plane. I will say, however; they were very specific in mentioning that one cannot take a sword on board.

I mentioned this to HWWV the other day in the car, on our way to a fancy lunch out (Chili's--they give out crayons and don't go crazy when Girlfriend spills her Shirley Temple all over the joint) and he said, "So, what do you think one can actually do with knitting needles, anyway, especially the circulars? Threaten to knit the pilot's hair so tight their eyes pop out? Or maybe force them to try and jump rope with them while the onlookers jeer?"

And so, I said: "Ever hear of a garrote?"

Oops. I guess I shouldn't have said that. Wouldn't want to give any crazy-terrorist knitters any ideas (or the TSA for that matter just in case they might ban the circs).

But here is my real dilemma: I'm off to Ohio to do a couple segments for the show, Knitting Daily TV, and I'll have five hours of knitting time, give or take, each way (except for the sipping of the vino out of little plastic bottles). What yarn do I take with? Some of it? Only one skein of it? All of it?

And a little confession: When I read other peoples' blogs and they say the same type of thing, like "Oh noooo! I just don't know what yarn(s) to take with me!" Usually, I huff and puff and scoff a little bit and declare they're a bit silly but now, upon reflection, I'm realizing I just don't get out much.

Next question: Are there any good yarn shops in the Cleveland area?

BTW: My chiropractor, last Friday, gave me the go-ahead to do a few minutes of cardio each day since my back and hip are improving. So what do I do in response? Buy a foot-long tuna sandwich with extra cheese.

Another Name For it: The Ten-Second Rule

Ah, the Do-Over. The Mulligan, the good-ol' Re-do. The ever-loving Return or Backspace key. If only all things in life offered a do-over, a Mulligan, a re-do, a return or backspace key. If only.

I mean, imagine all the things you might do that could use a do-over. You could be a chef or a cook or even a random person in a kitchen and screw up the banana bread. There aren't any do-overs, Mulligan's, re-dos or reverses in cooking. Once it's cooked, it's done, dear. It is done, done, done (unless you're lucky enough to under cook the thing and slip it back into the oven before it's too late.) Same for dropping freshly barbecued steaks onto the cement like HWWV did a couple years ago during a dinner party. Good thing no one saw it. Talk about the ninja moves he rocked to get those suckers onto the serving dish without anyone spotting him.

Oh, and there definitely aren't any do-overs when you cut your own bangs over the sink! This, I know for sure.

But the blessed hand-work. There are do-overs. Plenty of them. And you can pretty much have as many as you like unless you're working with, say, unplied silk or something of that nature--it'll pill like crazy--or maybe mohair (but pity for you if you are). In general, though, you can rip back, or tink, or if you're sewing, you can get out a seam ripper. There are probably limits to how many times you rip, but in general, if you realize what you're doing isn't working, and take a step back and look at the project with an unemotional eye, you'll be able to decide how much to rip, if it is worth it, or if you should bag the project altogether, roll up the yarn, and give it to an unsuspecting stranger.

In my latest case of frogging, I bought some sale yarn without making a gauge swatch and ended up with a Spring Spiral Hat that could fit Ronald McDonald on an extra-good and fluffy hair day. After taking a deep breath, I ripped back and abandoned the instructions after round 9 and held steady at 80 sts on the main color rounds until round 28.

Pattern: Spring Spiral Hat - Interweave Crochet Spring 2008

Yarn: Gedifra California (on sale, 40% off) in colors 3167 and 3178, one ball each

Gauge: Who Knows? I didn't do a gauge swatch and my crochet skillz aren't all that.

Needles: Crochet hook size F (3.75mm)

Mods: Worked as instructed to round 9, then continued working with CC for 40 stitches and MC rounds for 80 stitches. Worked my way until round 28 and then followed the printed ones to the to end, not paying attention to the stitch counts, which is liberating to be sure.

Difficulty: Simple; appropriate for someone who has worked single and double crochet.

Time to complete: Pre-rip, about two hours. Ripping took 30 hot seconds. Re-crocheting took about 1.5 hours. It was so fast, I didn't even bother to weave in the ends. I just stuffed them inside the cap and plopped it on my head.

Why Crochet is Easy and . . .

Girlfriend found an old harmonica and is wandering around the house blowing into it. I took it from her just a moment ago and played something akin to "Home on the Range," which she didn't recognize, but I was surprised that I could do it. But after a second or two and with a mid-line snarky look, she grabbed it back out of my mouth and wandered off gumming a tune closer to that of the lead singer and wild harmonica player extraordinaire, John Popper, from The Blues Travelers.

Thing is, I knew, back in the day, like in the late 70's, if dad pulled out his harmonica (I think he had a few diatonics) that the night would be good good good. Dad has always been like that, true to his heart and although the heart can get in the way sometimes, a harmonica player like him can always fill the din with something other than a dog barking, a child crying or a giant fat frog croaking under your window. What I mean to say is, it's good to have someone around who turns off the news, has a beer, and plays harmonica to some Waylon Jennings or Willie Nelson like all good people should if they could. Come to think of it if you are interested, "Shot Gun Willy Sits Around in his Underwear" is a good starter song for a harmonica-along if you are looking for something to play your new harmonica along with.

Harmonica playing is easy like crochet is easy. At least, I always thought it was easy, and I know some of you may disagree, but I think crochet is honestly easier than knitting. I choose to knit most of the time because it provides a drape according to what you might see in stores and such, but crochet is kitschy in a good way. Can you make a granny square with two needles? Can you reclaim all the past that you thought was lost without a crochet hook? Can you make a nice tight rug without a hook? One that you can step on without ballet toes? (I think not.)

Really and truly, crochet is the bomb. But you just have to know what to do with it. So, I present this Spring Spiral Hat in the latest Interweave Crochet. It is totally cute but my LYS doesn't carry Collinette yarns and I thought I could substitute. (Hah! Sucker!)

So the Crochet Goddess whispers: Think again, knitter, I mean, crocheter! You are stupid! You shall not substitute without taking into account the gauge. (But I don't know how to make a gauge in crochet even though crochet by itself is so easy, Ms. Crochet Goddess.) Adjust your needle size to obtain gauge! (What? Needle size? I thought the needle I used provided a nice stitch tension so I ran with it! Please don't put me in the crochet clink [I bet they don't have one although I will say the knitters do.]) Take note of the fiber contents of your yarn if you sub! (Yadda yadda yadda!)

Good news is, crochet is soooo easy to rip. That's why it is so genius. (Crocheters, please do not take offense as I love crochet, but you gotta love the fact that it is so easy to rip.)

Speaking of offense. Don't take any from the following. I just had a funny conversation and had to share it with you:

YESTERDAY, BY THE NEW PARK, STANDING NEXT TO A NEIGHBOR'S NEW WHITE MINI-VAN, WHO WAS READING A LOCAL SCHOOL PAMPHLET WHILE HER CHILD PLAYS:

Her (as I was walking by with Chuck and Rocko): I didn't see you over there or I would have said hello!

Me: Me either. Hello! So, it looks like you're looking through your daughter's agenda. How's it going over there at her school?

Her: What? Girlfriend doesn't go to kindergarten there? It's a good school!

Me: No. She doesn't. This past year or so has been crazy, so we opted for private school. She'll probably move into public school after a couple years.

Her: But the public school is so good around here! I did so well in public school! I turned out alright!

Then, when Girlfriend walked up:

Her: Oh hi there! Your cap is so cute! It says 'Lucy!" I have one just like it!

Me: It says, 'Lucky."

Her: Oh yeah. Okay. Huh. Right. Lucky!

Anyway; I'll be re-crocheting this sucker. It's out of Gedifra California. It's cotton and acrylic and was on sale for cheap, like 40% off (which means this potential loser might only cost me $8.95 for my pleasure. Just remind me to read the pattern thoroughly, next time. I plan on removing a few stitches here and there, as if I'll need a hat in April, May or June. But, then again, it would be good to hide the roots.)