Now Norma Knits

56. Glimpses Into My Personal Correspondence

Dear Cara:

I'm so sorry I missed your surprise baby shower on Saturday. I keep hearing what a wonderful party Ann put on, and now I'm even more super-sad that I missed it and missed seeing all you fun people. I moped all day Saturday.

Well, anyway, here's something you would have opened had the storm not kept me from getting there:

Don't worry, you would not have had to FAKE-exclaim delight. They would not have looked like those big shapeless blobs.  That's the way they looked pre-felting. (cell phone in photo for scale) 

I showed the first completed one in my blog the other day:

...and nobody guessed what it was.  I don't know why.

But isn't felting marvelous?  I wish I could transform my face and body as easily as I can transform a felted item. Just stick me in the bath, whirl me around, give me some hot agitation and friction for a few minutes (stop that), and out would pop a new, shapely, firm, smooth version. But I digress. This is not only about me.  It's also about you and That Baby to Be.

This is more like how they would have looked when you actually opened them.

Cute, hm?  (See the cell phone hiding under that one in the first picture? See how much the little boot shrunk and firmed and shaped up?) They make me think of felted galoshes. Don't let the babe splash too much in mud-puddles with them, though -- wool gets wet! 

Well, I know how you feel superstitious about having baby items in the house before the baby arrives, so I'll wait and send these after.  Hope you had a good time at the shower even without me and got loads of nice gifts.

Love,

Norma

P.S.  They are called "Fat Baby Booties," designed by Bev Galeskas.  The pattern was in Interweave Felt, Special Issue 2007, and I'm told they also appear in her book, Felted Knits.  It's an absolutely brilliant pattern. I was heard to exclaim and known to write to my friends several times during the knitting of these, "Boy-man, I have nothing but respect for these designers, I tell ya.  How do they know how to turn plain knitting stitches into three-dimensional objects? How do they do this?! Totally brill." 

I used Patons Classic Merino wool, and I knitted the medium infant size. It took three goes through the washing machine to get them felted the way I wanted them.

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Dear Sandy:

I spent all day Saturday moping around because I could not make it to your house Friday night on the way to our little planned adventure to go to Cara's shower on Saturday. Frickin' weather. I must be building up some seriously good future traveling karma is all I can say. 

Well, here are photos of part of what I was going to bring to share with you Friday night, each carefully chosen because, well, it's all from Vermont, but also because of each one's name.

Our favorite.  Because we dream of being cave-dwellers.  I can tell you, since I ate a lot of it this weekend, that it's damn good cheese, too.

No knitter's selection of artisanal cheeses is complete without a shepherd's cheese.

In Vermont, a Champlain Triple is even better than a Champlain Double.  All right, we won't go there. I know how this subject makes you uncomfortable.

In Vermont, companies don't shy away from getting political. Surprised?

So how did I spend my mopey Saturday?  Well, I moped, silly.  I went for a mopey workout, I knitted mopily, I steeped myself mopily in k.d. lang and Nora Jones, and then I mopily ate cave-dweller's cheese and drank smoky wine while having a date with George Clooney.  After that, I stopped moping. George will improve my mood every time.

All in all, it wasn't a bad day. Sometimes a good mope is good medicine. But I missed ya wicked.

Love,
Norma

49. What the Heck Hell is THAT?

Amazingly there is not, that I can find, a YouTube version of the Steve Martin routine "What the heck is THAT?" except some thing that looks a bit like a video game and starts out with guys in fatigues.  It credits Steve Martin and uses the Steve Martin soundtrack, but it's some digitized thing like a video game. I didn't finish watching it, because I figured it was going to end with them shooting or blowing up the "thing" in question.  Some things just don't amuse me, especially when I'm in a mood like I am. Speaking of which, what the hell is UP with that television commercial for Toyota Corolla that first appeared during the Superbowl about badgers eating up a guy's face?  HOW is that funny?  WHY? WHAT boardroom did this pass in, and even more importantly, WHY do they keep playing it on TV?  I hardly ever watch TV, and I've still seen it several times. It almost makes me want to return my Camry, just on principle.   

Yes, I am in a nearly intractable bad mood.  However, I have cheered myself up slightly by daydreaming about owning a piece of land far away from the rest of civilization and one of these. It's a big step up from the cave I've been considering. Still, the mood is rather low. I read an article about a singer recently in which she was described something like this:  "Give her a silver lining, and she'll show you the black cloud."  I thought, "Now, SHE is my kind of people." My muse. Love her already. NOW I'm smiling. Sort of. For a brief glimmer of a second.

Done now. 

(Remember, I can type very fast, so with that in mind, you can gauge how quickly my mood changed right then.)

And then I listened to and watched her perform some of her music, and it didn't really touch me as I'd hoped it would.  I know someone is going to ask, so the answer is:  Cat Power.  I love her smoky voice, but I can't understand her lyrics and she doesn't touch my soul at all.  I'm still looking for The One.  I'm looking for someone who can pull the slivers out of my soul in sweet painful misery.  I'm waiting for that special performer who can kill me softly with his (her) song. You get what I mean, right? Or am I just crazy?

Sigh.

As I'm writing this, I am letting a meaty spaghetti sauce simmer on the stove and there's a bottle of Cabernet with my name on it for later. That should either improve things or make them worse.  Either one will be good: A change of any sort will be welcome.  But first I will go to the gym and sweat a bit and come home to that wonderful smell of the sauce. Seems like that should help. Maybe.

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So as not to lay too heavy a trip on y'all with my moroseness, I ask you:

What the heck is THIS?

It's evidence of something not being quite right, that's what that is!  I'm knitting a second sock.  And the stripes match. How...?  What...?  Huh...?

And for more amusement, what the HECK is THIS???? (as always with my photos, click for bigger) 

I had fun with this photo shoot, as you can see. All will be revealed in time.

ETA: Silly me. I had thought that, irreverent as he is, Steve Martin was always PG-rated and never used strong words like "hell."  hahaha. But still, I did look for "What the Hell is That" and didn't find anything.  But Ann did.  All she found was an audio, but that's even better.  In case you want to click on it, here it is.  It does bring on a little chuckle for a Monday.  Absurdity and silliness should not be underrated. 

Get this widget |      Track details  | eSnips Social DNA

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And before I forget again, the winners of the microwave contest are:

Stephanie and Katie.  Thanks for playing!  Your Wii consoles are on the way to you both.  Not. 

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Late-breaking addition:  It's Sandy's 5th blogiversary today!  Go wish her a happy. 

43. Sock It To Me, Baby

We finally made it!  Well, halfway, anyway.

Trekking Zitron Colorway 158

Ann Norling's Adult Sock II, Wide-Wale Ribbed Sock

I cast on for Sock No. 2, but that is literally as far as I got. I made the mistake of thinking I could knit while watching Season 1 of 30 Rock. No.Way. Too much going on, too fast, too smart, and too funny. I feel a new TV addiction coming on.  Not good knitting TV, though.

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Look at that face

More under the continued heading of "Why I Love My Job," I did an extra CART job yesterday afternoon.  It consisted of a showing of Including Samuel, followed by a panel discussion by its creator Dan Habib and others.  I'd commend you to see this documentary if it comes to a location near you. (and you should ask your school district to arrange to bring it to you)  There is an extended YouTube preview of it, also, which I'd post here, but it's 10 minutes long. (the full-length film is an hour)  The extended preview is easily found in YouTube if you wish to watch it, and I hope you do.

40. Saturday, February 9, 2008 Edition

Apparently Gwen's yarn is going to be sold off today. I'm sure several people will be attending the sale to get some bargain yarn. I know the yarn has to go somewhere, and it should rightfully go to avid yarn lovers (and I'm sure Gwen would want it this way), but I can't bring myself to go watch the spectacle. So I will think of some other way to fill up my time today. 

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For starters, I will celebrate Oliver's new wheelchair.  Have you Americans bought your raffle tickets for the incredible American blanket yet?  A little of my stash sale money bought in, and I hope I win win win!

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Then after that, maybe I'll play with Flickr tools, which turns out to be a wicked lot of fun. (But I will never, ever link my blog photos to Flickr. Takes so long to load, it gives me hives.) (As always, click the photos to make them bigger.)

I will contemplate the gray Saturday sky.


Maybe I'll squeeze some more juice out of my Zitron.


And think about Vincent.

Turns out to be a busy day.

30. This Just In: Size Most Assuredly Matters (But It Ain't Everything)

Just a quarter of a millimeter bigger on the sock needle size is making a big difference. Yes, I did indeed rip out and start over. But I may have to rip it out and start over yet again, or just ditch it altogether, since I am positively hating this sock. It's not the sock's fault -- could be it's symbolic of some other deep angsty issues.

What, me, angst? Surely NOT! Meh, maybe it IS the sock's fault. One of us certainly has a bad attitude, and it's something that a quarter of a millimeter's movement just won't cure.  Perhaps something drastic is in order -- a time out for the sock, throw the frickin' yarn in the snowbank, or work on a different project to let it know who's boss -- something like that. Details at 11.

Present Mood:  Cranky.  But you already knew that. 

25. More Chocolate Adventures and a Couple Bonus Items

In dire need of psychoactive food lately, I've been earnestly searching for good chocolate.

I will admit that I am sometimes seduced by sexy packaging.  This bar had it -- very understated, very elegant, very masculine, very European. Never mind that I needed a magnifying glass to actually read the writing on it -- it still looked fab.  Just look at that sexy inner wrapper.

It's Dolceria Bonajuto pepe bianco, (dark chocolate with white pepper). 

How disappointing to unwrap it and find that this $5-for-less-than-two-ounces bar had gone out of temper.

It's still edible; it's just that the cocoa butter has risen to the surface.  The bar probably got too hot somewhere along the line when it was being transported.  It makes it less appealing visually, and it affects the texture as well. If one were a chocolatier, one could melt the bar, temper the melted chocolate again, and remake this bar.  Nothing would be lost.

The flavor, after I set aside the looks and the texture, was quite a nice experience.  The texture was confusing, though, and I don't know if it's the bar itself or because it was "environmentally damaged" by the time I ate it.  It was oddly dry and granular, which at first I found to be a turnoff. But the more I chewed and savored, that granular texture seemed like it could have been intentional.  I'm not sure.  It was a very fine sugar-granule feel, in sort of a good way.  I hate to spend a lot of money on these bars to fully taste-test, though.  I would be reticent to buy another one at the same place any time soon, since coming from the same case before hitting their market shelves, I'm sure the bars have all been affected the same way.

This bar is flavored with white pepper.  I'm all about the spices and the chocolate.  Supposedly that's the way the Mayans and Aztecs enjoyed it for centuries.  At first I did not sense the pepper at all, but it hits you in a very subtle and pleasant way, after the chocolate has been swallowed -- the tingle lingers on the tongue, and there is no denying that the experience lifted my mood.  Could it be that the pepper potentiates the chocolate drug effect?  Whatever it is, it's very, very nice. 

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In other news, I wonder what mind-altering substance Roxie was on when she made these for me:

Question:  If I had an extra finger on each hand, could I steno even faster?

Answer:  Made me laugh, Roxie.  You are da bomb. Thank you!

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Progress on the sock is proceeding at an astonishingly fast pace, and it's very pretty.  There is only one problem:  It's a bit too snug on my leg and foot, so the pretty pattern is stretched out and doesn't look nearly as pretty when worn.  Question:  Do I have the intestinal fortitude to rip it out and start over on bigger needles or with more stitches? 

Bleh. 

Show Your Socks III

Jane is hosting The Third Annual Show Your Socks Contest.  I'm not much of a sock knitter, so I thought I'd have nothing to show.  However, I took a look in my sock drawer, and lo and behold, I found that, over time, I have accumulated a little wardrobe of handknit socks. It's nothing compared to some people.  A certain person we all know (she needs no introduction) has about 1,233 pairs of Jaywalkers alone.  I don't even aspire to that level of greatness. 

Anyway, here are my socks in an uninspired photo.  The camera battery died immediately upon taking the first photo.  I cajoled it into taking one more photo (below) before it would do no more.  After taking the photos, I read the rules of the contest this year:  Show a photo of your first and last pair of handknit socks.  Well, now it's all complicated! 

I had to do some research in the blog, because I could not remember which were my first pair.  Thank goodness for the blog and for the photo galleries.  To my surprise, I reallyandtruly could not remember.

This was my first pair of socks, and to date they remain my best work, but I don't have them anymore, and they were not in my memory banks -- only in my photo gallery.  I repeat, thank goodness for the blog!

They were given to Selma, my former boss at the BBC. The yarn was Koigu, a gift to me from Julia FC when we first met.  She was encouraging me to become a sock knitter.  (Thanks, Julia!) Totally forgot about all of it.  The last time I talked to Selma, she said, "I'm looking down at my feet right now at the beautiful lavender socks you made me.  It was the nicest gift anyone has ever given me."  This was a good two years after I had sent her the socks and she just happened to be wearing them that day.  *heart swells*

The first pair I kept for myself are the heavyweight Vermont wool-and-mohair socks on the far left of the photo above, and here is another photo of them, with their story, again lifted from my gallery:

Pattern:  Ann Norling Adult Socks II, knitted for worsted weight on size 7 US needles. 

Yarn: Local (from Montgomery, Vermont) heavy worsted weight sock yarn 55% yearling mohair/45% lambswool, natural-dyed (the plum with cochineal/the green with cosmos, heliopsis, marigold)

These were knitted for the Socktoberfest knitalong. I originally called them the Vermont Vineyard Socks for their colors; I renamed them the Socked-Intober socks because they were finished during the Nor'Easter of October 24-25, 2005.

They are the first socks I've knitted for myself, the 2nd pair I've ever knitted. And this is the first two-color strand work I've done.

The last pair I knitted are the Trek-Along socks shown in the photo above and in this photo and completed in early 2007.

And because I'm a lucky blogger, I have a nice collection of beautiful socks knit for me by others. 

From top to bottom: Koigus from Cassie (the very first pair of handknit socks I ever put on my feet.  Still gorgeous and lovely); Trekkings from Cari; Lorna's Laces from Stephanie; and Mountain Colors Bearfoot from Debi.  Because other knitters are better knitters than I, these four pair are my favorites of all.  They are all gorgeous and comfy.

Thanks for the exercise, Jane.  That was a fun walk down Sock Memory Lane.

Speaking of Magic 28....(A Contest)

Waaaaaah!  I'm so sad about this turn of events re Dulaan.  If you take a look at my Gallery of Finished Items for 2007, I'd guess 95% of them were for Dulaan.  Shee-it.  But anyway, onward and upward.  We will find ourselves a bunch of good outlets for our charitable knitting, RIGHT?  I won't settle for less.  Nosireebob. I know of Afghans for Afghans and CIC, for starters.  Cookie and I were frantically emailing back and forth yesterday afternoon, and she found Warm Woolies, which looks very promising.   And there always seems to be no shortage of knit drives to serve more local needs in the winter, as well.  Bring 'em ON! (Let us know if you know of some, too.)  [Meanwhile, do what Ryan is doing and make a date with some Red Scarf yarn.] 

So, about that Magic 28 contest, then:

Marianne (Everyone wish Marianne good luck with her move...) has donated some g-o-r-g-e-o-u-s stitch markers she made as prizes.  What say we have a little Magic 28 contest, then, eh?  Are you up for knitting some little socks, or even just having good intentions? 

Send me an email by Friday evening, August 3, at midnight EST at norma[dot]knits[at]gmail[dot]com, with the subject line "Magic 28 stitch markers," and tell me how many Magic 28 socks you hope and intend to knit in 2007.  (even if it's zero, that's fair game, too)

That's all you have to do.  It'd be nice if you also join our ring and knit some Magic 28 socks to warm some cold feet, but I'll leave it to you whether or not to do so.  How easy am I?  There are three sets of high-quality, very pretty stitch markers to give away.  Wanna see 'em? 

Go ahead, email:  Make my day!

Look, I finished the orange pair.  Aren't you proud?

So cute. 

Yesterday I had a much-needed day at home to work on transcripts.  Well, a big transcript did indeed get done (almost 200 pp.), but a fair bit of relaxing and knitting got done too.

Lunch looked like this:

Zucchini picked in the garden that morning, sauteed in walnut oil with fresh dill, salt and pepper, served on a slice of Ezekiel toast with melted Jarlsburg.  Holy cow, but that was good.

Knitting CPR Desperately Needed

WHAT has happened to me and my knitting?  Seriously, we are in a desperate deathbed type of situation here.

This is all the knitting I did on my trip.  This represents a six-hour car trip, an hour-long shuttle to the airport, two hours of sitting in the airport, and two and a half hours on a plane.  Before I left (which was rather in a hurry) I grabbed several partial skeins of worsted-weight, my US 6 DPNs, and a printout of my Magic 28 sock recipe (because, I'm embarrassed to admit, I had forgotten how to do it without the pattern).

But WAIT.  Before you say, "Well, Norma, that's at least something!  Don't be so hard on yourself!" please consider this:  That sock in the photo above is a toddler size.  Still think it's at least something?  I was already finished up past the gusset, and all I had left to do was the foot and the toe.  And what does it say about the state of my knitting that I cannot find either of my Chibis (that is a darning needle set for those who are non-knitters)

And should I repeat for effect?  This is ALL the knitting I did on the entire trip. 

Say it with me:  pa-THET-ic!

People around me are starting to refer to my knitting in the past tense, and as "her knitting phase."   

Abigail says Ryan has even been asking the question, "How exactly is the name of your mom's blog pronounced?  Now Norma Knits?  Now Norma Knits?  Now Norma Knits?  (I told her I would kick Ryan's ass for cracking wise, but that's neither here nor there.)

HowEVER, I have made my Rhinebeck reservations, and I see that the featured breed this year is Bluefaced Leicester, which shows some promise of breathing some life into my knitting.....er.....phase. 

Perhaps I can distract you with some photos of some Asiatic lilies following a thunderstorm?

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch

An interesting thing I learned (or, rather, was reminded of) well before 5 a.m. yesterday:  London cab drivers have notoriously large hippocampi because of all the spatial memory required to store the London maps in their heads.  Honestly, if navigating London streets doesn't drive a person straight to the loony bin, he ought to at least get a large hippocampus out of the bargain, I'd think. My beloved mini A to Zed.

I've developed a bit of a sleep problem of late.  If I don't go to bed after midnight, I wake up at an ungodly hour, feeling unrested.  Here's the problem, for you wisenheimers who are bound to say, "Well, then, don't GO to bed before midnight!"  I'm getting old and falling apart.  In the evening nowadays, I am totally exhausted, my eyes start to burn and tear up*, so I can't read, knit, watch TV, or anything, and I can't do anything else, either, due to the violent yawning.  So I figure I'm tired, I should go to bed, right?

Wrong, as it turns out.   

*I feel this has something to do with the narrow drainage angles I am blessed with.  However, whenever I say that to my optometrist, she has absolutely no reaction and looks down at her chart. When doctors exhibit this no-reaction thing, I have figured out that they think you are an idiot and they have been taught that they shouldn't TELL you you are an idiot.  Ergo, the Poker-Faced Silent Treatment/Look Down At The Chart maneuver. 

It could be that I just use the computer too much, and with the knitting on top of it, my eyes are just telling me to STOP ALREADY.

So anyway, being up before the birds yesterday, with nothing better to do, I decided to do my prep work for the graduate-level neurobiology class I'm subbing in  (not substitute-teaching, ha!  subbing in CART) today and Thursday. Just a little light reading before 5 a.m.  I wonder how big my hippo-whatever is.

Never a dull moment in my life, that's for sure.

Rachel H.'s fabulous vintage child's sock blockers continue to get a serious workout.  This is Pair 11.  It has a cuff of the last little bit of rust-colored Eco-Wool and the last little bit of my rustic handspun Coopworth (am I frugal enough for you?), with a body of dark brown Eco-Wool.  Lemme tell ya, one skein of that Eco-Wool goes a lonnnnnnng way.  I still have enough for another pair of stripey ones, I believe, from that one brown skein.

The Magic 28 ring is up and running.  We have 12 members as of this writing.

--------And on the topic of work:

Every once in a while one gets recognized and rewarded, and that makes everything worthwhile.  The other day at a special event for which I provided CART, after it was over, the client gave me a huge tight hug and said, "Thank you, thank you!"  She had never used CART before, and she was beside herself with glee. 

Her daughter was being honored that day, and she was able to fully follow along.  It was especially poignant when her daughter was relating her intern experience over the past year, and she (the daughter) got very emotional and choked up.  Her mom was reading along my transcription, and grinning ear to ear with such pride, and then welled up herself.  How sad for her if she had had to miss out on that special moment.  I must remember that moment for the event that is coming up tomorrow that is destined to be a royal disaster, and after which I will surely want to put my head in the sand toilet.