Now Norma Knits

Decisions, Decisions

I recently learned that my former boss, who is very dear to me, has had a baby boy, and so Auntie Norma naturally wants to knit that poor little boy a sweater.

I spent much of yesterday trolling my books and -- with the considerable help of my friends on Facebook -- through Ravelry (because I am a founding- and still-card-carrying member of the Ravelry Underachiever Club, and Dunce) for just the right pattern.

Of course, I have exactly set in my mind the pattern I want and the yarn I want to use, and the pattern is not out there, never mind having to fight gauge issues if I do actually find one that I deem suitable. But I did eventually find some likely prospects, listed here in my (at the time of writing this) order of preference:

1. Trellis

2. Baby Poonam

3. Heirloom Cables Baby Sweater at Lion Brand where you, annoyingly, have to sign in in order to see it, so that link may or may not work for you. 

I am awfully fond of these two sweaters, as well --

1. Duffle Coat by Debbie Bliss (and I don't know if that link will work for you, either, because it's a Ravelry link)

2. Iceling (another Ravelry link)

I am actually moving the queue around even as I type this ... I am totally in love with Iceling.... and it might actually work better with the gauge of the yarn I have chosen... and yet, have I really made the final choice of yarn yet?...?...?

I think it is going to be this:

but I am also considering a lovely green Pure Pima (Berroco) cotton, or Rowan Denim yarn that I have always wanted to try. And then there is the red Calmer or the chocolate brown Calmer, the raisin Mission Falls 1824, or the blue Mission Falls. Unlike at least one of my friends, I love baby items knitted in unexpected adult colors like brown or grey or black, so I'm very tempted by the chocolate brown... but I also want to keep that for a garment for myself, so probably not. 

Decisions, decisions...

Who knows... maybe baby will get TWO sweaters, or maybe I will change my mind midstream, or then again, if I manage to actually finish a sweater -- even a baby sweater -- I think I should probaby be in line for an award of some sort.

I expected to have this thing well under way by now. I even found what I wanted to watch while knitting this British sweater for a British little boy -- South Riding on Masterpiece Theater -- but it took me way too long to find a pattern and hunt through my stash for the right yarns, and ... somehow or another it is already bedtime and I'm not that much closer to a decision. 

But still, it's all kind of fun to actually think about knitting a baby sweater. Who knew?

Spri-ing-tiiiiiiiiime, and the Eatin' is Easy......

Oh, how I love to cook and eat this time of year. The garden makes it so easy to be creative and healthful.

Yesterday morning there were scallions, and lots of them, ready. 

When I pulled them and brought them into the house, I really didn't have a plan for what I would do with them. But when lunchtime came around, the plan just went ahead and formulated itself. 

I brought out the George Foreman grill and a package of grass-fed local ground beef. I made a small patty and cooked it on the grill, making for a lean and tasty little burger.

Meanwhile, I sliced up the scallions (there are red and white ones in there, for extra color and goodness) and put them in a small bowl. I added a splash of balsamic vinegar, a splash of olive oil, and a sprinkle of both sea salt and crushed dried cayenne pepper. I stirred it up and let it marinate for the few minutes it took to finish cooking the burger, and savored the burger smothered in spring-oniony goodness. It was almost a salad, sort of a relish -- beautiful in its simplicity, and dead-on delicious.

Excuse me -- I must go out now and plant another row of onion sets. Rolling harvests are one of the keys to a good kitchen garden, after all.

Today the star of the fresh-pick show will be asparagus.

 

Wherein The Ankle Says HEY, STOP THAT

The sexy new ankle brace is miles better than the old getup I had, and it served me very well on my away job this week. It's not too bad looking, and I'm not limping much at all anymore. If I wear a lot of black, or some styling bootcut jeans, most people don't even notice I'm wearing a brace.

I was feeling so chipper, in fact, that when I got home yesterday afternoon, I changed into some gardening clothes. While I was waiting for Mr. Jefferies to get home from his sleepover (He also became [one of the] Office Dog[s] at Burton Snowboards for three days, where he gained all sorts of new fans, I'm told. Dude.), I went out to survey what was happening in the garden. 

Given how well the ankle was doing over the past three days, and how well I was feeling overall, I thought that I might even be able to get some serious gardening done this weekend. Or if not serious, then at least semi-serious.

I did a few things -- I had quite a lot of asparagus that was ready to be cut, and quite a bit of lettuce and fresh mint -- which I gave to Mr. Jefferies' babysitter as a thank-you gift. I watered some things. I have new baby beets, spinach, carrots, onions, lettuces, and Swiss chard, and the plum trees are covered with blossoms. I have everbearing strawberry blossoms, and some pear blossoms. 

I removed the very lightweight coldframe from over the top of the lettuces and kales and cabbages, which can all now fend for themselves quite nicely, and moved it to a different bed where I put in some zucchini seeds. This is very early for those heat-loving zukes, but I'm betting that the cold frame will keep it warm like a hothouse and they'll be fine -- maybe even better than usual. And I sowed some broccoli seeds all over a 3X3 bed. I'll eat the babies, thinning them out to the six full-size plants that a bed that size can handle. 

And that was pretty much it. My ankle was letting me know then that, "Thank you, Norma, that is quite enough now."

Sigh. It's gonna be a while before I'm 100%. 

I had a picnic on my way home from my business trip: Oh-so-delicious leftover Biryani from the Bollywood Grill, where I had a wonderful dinner with Claudia and Sandy the night before last. The food was fabulous, the company was wonderful, and the waiter was flirty. What more could one wish for? Well, leftovers, of course! I took the leftovers with me and ate them outside, in the beautiful sunny and warm day, when I hit West Lebanon, NH. There was also a little bit of shopping at LLBean.

 

 

Keeping Myself Entertained In Tewksbury

I'm here for a CART gig, we worked late getting all the complicated connections set up and tested for it, and I've got a bum ankle, so there's not exactly a whole lot I can do, and I was on call so I couldn't venture more than 200 yards from the facility. So my choices for dinner were three: Wendy's, Cracker Barrel, or don't eat. I did help out the local economy by buying what looks like a fun book at the Cracker Barrel, where I also had an..um...interesting catfish dinner. The catfish was actually surprisingly delicious and well prepared. The sides... well, we won't talk about them.

I'll take the book to bed with me, and maybe this will be just quirky enough to actually hold my attention where others couldn't.

I also bought a Moon Pie. We don't have those at home -- at least I don't think so -- and it just looked like one of those old-style treats that I should try. 

I guess I wasn't really missing much. 

Aircast Chic

Go from the home office to an evening out, with just a simple change of accessory.

SEXY! Don't try to deny it!

Latest on the ankle: I had a second opinion yesterday with a bona fide sports medicine orthopedist who said nothing is broken and nothing looks unhealthy about my bones. That is what Cindy (the Wonder Therapist) and I were worried about -- a hairline fracture or something else bad about the bones. Nice to have that ruled out, I think.

He fitted me into a different-style ankle brace that I like a helluva lot better -- it's lighter and thinner, it's actually more supportive, and it fits inside a shoe a lot better. I didn't have time to photograph it for you. It's twice as sexay as the one shown above. Really. I just wish it didn't have that honkin' big ugly logo on the front, so it wouldn't be QUITE so noticeable if I wear it with a skirt. Sheesh. Designer chic sports injury apparel -- THERE'S A NEED! 

So now I just have to finish healing up and then decide if I'm going to continue pursuing what he calls the worst-ever form of exercise for humans. He likes it for one reason and one reason only: It keeps him and his colleagues in business. 

Heh. 

Well, then. We'll see what I decide. He wants me to engage in zero impact exercise for the next six weeks. That should give me plenty of time to think on it, I guess. And then if I decide I'm that stupid again that I want to run, I should take the Couch to 5K program and take it AT LEAST TWICE AS SLOW. 

Ergh. I do not know if I could take the boredom of that. But we'll see.

This is not at all how I was hoping for this to turn out. 

Terrier Tuesday -- The "Don't Call Me Roly-Poly" Edition

Dear Readers,

I hope you didn't get too upset that I took some time off with Alpha. She said we needed a break, and I didn't want to argue the point too strenously with her. I am very well aware of who brings home the bac'n around here. So she says paws off the blog, it's paws freakin' OFF.

I suppose you've heard that she has been kind of laid up with a booboo of some sort. She walks a little funny. I don't really understand it all, but I am a very empathetic Yorkie, and I do my utmost to help her out. She's been sitting and watching movies a lot, and I've been keeping her lap warm. Or when she says I'm too heavy (ME? TOO HEAVY?!), I am very good at lying on the floor and staring at her to make sure she doesn't get away. AND that she is still OK, of course. 

About that Too Heavy thing, I will admit that I've put on a couple pounds of winter weight. David is kind of nice at sneaking me food when she is not looking, but whatever you do, do NOT tell her I told you that! 

Just DO NOT, okay?

There are some things she is better off not knowing.

She has been calling me roly-poly, which I think is a bit unfair (How dare she, really!), since she has not been taking me on enough walks or throwing the toy nearly enough. 

I had a good talk with her about this yesterday, in extreme earnestness.

"Sure, you are supposed to be staying off your foot as much as possible, but that doesn't mean that you can't sit on your rock up by the garden and throw the toy for me so I can get some exercise!"

And so she did.

And she did again.

And she threw it again.

And again.

Until I got so tired I could not climb that hill one.more.time! But I didn't want to admit I was tired, because if I did that, she might stop throwing the toy. So I distracted her by pretending I noticed something VERY INTERESTING next door...

(LOOK ALPHA! A SQUIRREL! or...is..that.. a ...um... bird?)

And then I pretended there was something important that I needed to investigate in the tall grass...

...while I caught my breath.

And then she threw the toy more and more and more, until I was completely worn out. 

Sigh.

She's good like that.

Love,

Mr. Jefferies

 

 

Mother's Day Asparagus

It was a beautiful day, but my Mother's Day was sort of a nonstarter because of my ankle injury which I'm now calling a leg/shin/calf (or what, I don't really know for sure) injury instead. It is quite clear to me, now that the swelling has gone down, that it is not a ligament or tendon injury, but seems like it almost certainly must be a hairline fracture, though none showed up on the x-rays. At least the radiologist's report didn't report one. But given the caliber of the rest of the hospital experience I had, I honestly don't put a whole lot of confidence in that report. To be fair, I am told that hairline fractures often don't show up until later, when they begin to heal. Or perhaps because I was so "sure" it was the ankle, and told them that, they did not x-ray up high enough on the shaft of the fib and tib. Who knows.

All I know is, it still really hurts to walk, but it doesn't hurt just sitting. And it still is prone to inflammation when it's not elevated. I simply can't wait to see my physical therapist Monday afternoon.

I'm quite sidelined by the whole thing, and I'm not a happy camper. There are only so many TV shows and movies one can watch in a 48-hour period without becoming quite despondent and nearly brain dead, even though I loved them all. (Answer: two entire seasons of Dexter; Salt, Gosford Park,... and my brain simply refuses to recall if there were any more.)

But this made it somewhat better:

I made my first asparagus harvest of the season. (Except one spear I cut last week.)

I sauteed it in a little bit of butter and served it on Ezekiel toast, for my very simple and light Mother's Day supper. It was fabulous.

 

Less About the Bags, More About the Embellishments

I've finished a couple of felted bags that are pretty plain.

UPDATE: The pattern is "The Purse" by Janet Scanlon. 

I got mine at Kaleidoscope.

 

But their drawstrings are a great way to showcase

these good-looking beads.

I still don't have the hang of using my new camera in order to get good closeups. I guess a good manual reading and video watching about the camera is in order, hm? 

There are a couple more little felted bags in the works. It's good knitting while I sit with my foot up. I'm keeping myself entertained with Dexter. Just finished Season 1 and I'm HOOKED. 

I totally need some bonbons and popcorn, though. 

My Left Foot

Never a dull moment, always looking for blog fodder even when I'm in hibernation mode -- that's me.

So I finally got in to see Cindy the Wonder Therapist yesterday, and after doing her evaluation, she was not convinced that it was a sprain, but instead perhaps a hairline fracture. So since it was after hours, and she wanted me to get x-rayed ASAP (and wished I had had the x-ray even sooner in the week), she suggested I go to the E.R. for it.

As I write this, I am still waiting for the radiologist's report to come in to my primary care doc -- since the E.R. doc's impressive diagnosis was "I don't see anything big." 

Well.

If we are looking to rule out a hairline or stress fracture, you wouldn't see something big, now, wouldja? 

That, combined with the nurse who twice told me I should be taking Tylenol for the inflammation and me telling her twice that Tylenol is not an anti-inflammatory, and her saying, "Well, it IS..." and walking out of the room, (Is not. Is too. Is not.) and I just want to shoot somebody. (More than usual, even.)

I'm currently debating whether I should be making a formal complaint to the hospital or her supervisor -- not because she wasn't perfectly sweet and nice and all, but one does think that basic pharmacological knowledge about a very common medicine would be in order in one's E.R. nurses, wouldn't one? 

Sigh.

Many of my friends have said before that I am a weird magnet, and that could be true, or it could just be that I'm more observant than others. One way or the other, I .... well, yeah, I do think I am a weird magnet. 

But anyway, I did call today and ask the hospital whether a RADIOLOGIST has looked at the x-rays, and they told me yes -- that they would fax the report to my primary care doc. So I'm waiting to see if there was ANYTHING SMALL that could be seen on the shot, or if we are just in the business of looking for SOMETHING BIG. Guh. Not that I am cynical or sarcastic or anything. Oh, and if I had not made that call, they would be sitting over there growing moldy and whatever, apparently. Sigh again.

So glad it's not something important or life-threatening. Sigh again.

The good news is, as Margene pointed out quite by accident: It's my left foot. And I no longer drive standard shift, so I can drive. And this is important, because I have a very good work-related drive to make next week as a direct result of my new business website which really just went live last week. Yay! 

More good news is that I am not in pain with it at all, except when I walk. It could be soooo much worse. It really would be nice to get it all healed up though -- I won't lie. 

I'm supposed to keep it elevated and non-weight-bearing as much as possible. The beginning of gardening season, as well as the fact that I was truly just hitting my stride and getting in the groove with running -- make this not a good time to have to sit with my foot in the air. Not that there is any good time, mind. And it would be ten times worse if this were the dead of snowy winter and I had to somehow shove this wrapped and air-casted foot into a boot. Shudder.

And Mr. Jefferies is not happy about the no-recreational-walking rule, either. 

Oh, and P.S.:  Hi! I'm back! (Thanks to all the wonderful notes and comments. It means the world to me.)

P.P.S. In honor of this fateful event, I've put the movie at the top of my Netflix list. If it were streaming, I'd be watching it now, but sadly it's not.

Hibernating

Poke At Your Own Risk

Lookit, it's been a week (a month? a period of time) of last straws. Sometimes it only takes that one extra molecule to be The One That Tips The Cart. It's not just the blog, it's a lot of other things, too. I'm just absolutely fed up with some of the crap. Perhaps this running thing is making me [even] meaner and just a touch on edge, and now on top of it all, I seem to have a sprained (?) ankle. Lovely.  

On the topic of the blog: There are some people who should not read here. This has come up once or twice before. They don't understand the medium, they don't understand me. They think it's all about them. Their eyes are too sensitive for the way I write, and it has nothing to do with them. And I am pissed off.

I wish they would go away, but meddlers just can't stop being meddlers, and they don't seem to leave, even though I apparently offend their sensibilities. 

Most of the time, it's no big deal. I mutter "F.U." under my breath and I carry on. It doesn't even register as a blip on my radar. But when it's a Last Straw Week, I just have to say it out loud. And then I might just have to break something. So here in this instance, you could say I'm symbolically breaking the blog for a bit so I don't end up putting somebody's eyes out or something. 

Sadly, this might make all the good and friendly and supportive readers feel like I'm punishing them or that I'm talking about them (the ones who are on the same page, the ones who are my dear friends in real life and virtually, and who understand blogs and understand humor and metaphor and rhetoric and hyperbole and self-expression, the ones who aren't going to pick apart everything I write and turn it into something it isn't).

As always, the ones to whom a criticism is directed are the ones who just don't get it. 

Whatever. 

Do not take from this that the terrorists and the busybodies have won. Oh, no. You know I'll probably be back. I'm just taking a rest. 

After I rest, I might just come out a-roarin'. So watch out.

In the meantime, meddling busybodies are kindly invited to go find something else to worry about and gossip about, and forget about this blog. I'd appreciate it. Thanks.