2008.06.02

eden larissa rhubarb and a pink pink sweater



Photo by Sarah Gilbert.

Yes, you have seen this sweater before. But I love this photo and wanted to show you. At our farmers market there's a place called Cafe Velo that custom drips Stumptown single origin coffees in ceramic cones. I had ordered some sort of coffee that had "eden" in the name, but I was knitting the sweater for the daughter of my good friend Eden and so asked Sarah to photograph the cup and sweater together.

I haven't seen enough of either friend, Eden or Sarah. I'm sad about that, or, more wistful. There should be more friends together time. I miss people, I miss my dog, I miss my family from traveling, even for a single night.

But Berkeley was lots of fun! I had a wonderful interview with Mike from YKnit (you must click here because we are toooo cute,) and visited Mrs. Dalloway's Books where they were so kind to me. Aurora works there and is someone who knitted pieces for our book.

When I returned I found out my previous trip to Denver continues to pay off. Our book is on the Denver Post bestseller list this week! This is really amazing to me. I didn't imagine a knitting book could do that. I'm thrilled.

Have a cup of coffee with me?

2008.05.24

not glum at all



Martin pointed out that maybe the photo I used for my last post was a little glum. 

Ellie was not a glum dog, unless she had a sad night here or there as we all do. She was a happy girl and loved the yard most of all. Here she is with a great stick!

She and I did agility together, she passed her sheep herding instinct test, she was a great camper, she was super fast (once actually caught a squirrel in the park), was an incredible frisbee-catcher who did rad moves in the air just to impress, jumped in and out of trees and onto and off of desks on demand, modeled, once starred in a one-dog circus show for a neighbor's 4-year-old birthday party, and had that most rare trifecta of intelligence, beauty, and sweetness. She was the best dog any of us has ever known...and not glum. (I just liked that photo of her because she had hung her own bone up like that on the table. Amazing.)

We feel like there is a giant mistake in the universe right now. Something very basic missing from our home. She was our great, sweet girl.

rest in peace



Ellie Brown
2000?-2008

2008.05.21

ready to go



A late night photo of the ready-to-go dishcloths.

They'll be in the show starting this weekend, at the Long Beach Island Foundation. Here is how they look in a stack. They'll be shown in a stack, with a book that includes a photograph of every cloth, in the order I received them, with handwritten info about the person who made the cloth and where they're from. It's called archive. I think my sister will take photos for us all to see.

And I'm not ready to go, but need to be in the next hour or so. I leave for Denver very early in the morning and speak tomorrow night at Tattered Cover book store. I'm really looking forward to the flight and time in Denver, but I really dislike packing and getting to the "or-port."

Someone who may or may not be ready to go is Ellie. I've explained to Sebastian she needs to go somewhere and will not be able to come back. Sometimes she looks so great and jumps for tennis balls and runs for 20 or more minutes with me. Other times it looks like she can barely breathe. We think she rallies for fun stuff and food, but really she is in very poor shape. She's had all the treatment they will give her, and she's survived longer than expected on the last dose. But she breathes very fast and shallowly when resting, and she's acting dumber or more on instinct - barking a lot even when it's us coming in the door, stealing food from the garbage and people's hands. She has never been like this. We'll know more this weekend.

Sebastian says:

At thirteen o'clock we can go to the strawberry train and get some strawberries. And we can eat them on the way home. On the people coach of the strawberry train.

All aboard.

2008.05.16

good morning sunshine



Wow.

That's all I can write about  Clara's review of our book over at Knitter's Review. I am awed to see our work written up on her pages, and could not have imaged a more thoughtful or positive critique.

Just when things get so tough and unrelenting and...noisy...that you think you need to go for a month to a special ranch, all of sudden a whole bunch of people are nice all in a row and it makes you feel good to be alive.

First, Martin very suddenly sent me for a night at the Grand Lodge.  A lovely, lonely getaway that I could reach by TriMet bus and luxuriate in for a mere $50 for my queen room, so it was guilt free. We've been there a few times before, primarily for the fabulous soaking pool and frisbee golf course. Except, don't go there, because it was so nice being in that pool alone. ;-) Right above my head, in a fir tree that was intermixed with a blooming magnolia, two birds were making a nest. Hot tub plus nesting was super relaxing.

Then on the way home I found out about Clara's review when our book went to #1 in knitting on amazon.com! And I needed a ride to Tigard for the Tigard Knitting Guild meeting and was escorted totally happily by my friend's husband. Andres was a star, carrying crates of books, moving heavy tables, charming the ladies, and even commenting thoughtfully on all the show-and-tell finished objects.

The Tigard meeting was lovely, and I just hope I did not bore them to tears. There were about 50 people there - a very well organized and well attended guild. And they bring snacks! We did a flower technique together, from the Eden Scarf, and I think a few people really liked it.

Now for a little home cooking and cleaning. Our own little nest needs some mending. It's sort of out of hand. Yesterday Martin edited the toy box (hero!) and today I think I will get the kitchen completely good for a moment, before it starts going downhill again.

Maybe I'll even make wiggly noodles. (Super simple recipe here.)

2008.04.21

we have bus passes, an ergo, a plan


Photo by Sarah Gilbert.

Sarah and I are planning to do the sock scavenger hunt tomorrow with no cars, and with at least two boys. We're working on an efficient map/plan, but out of necessity excluding several of the far-off sites that can only be done with access to a vehicle that darts a bit more and lumbers considerably less than those we have access to. Y'know, something that weighs less than 39,000 pounds.

We can only hope the sky will be so blue, and the plastic horses plentiful.

2008.04.02

coffee achiever*


pretty photo thanks to NotHip.


Hey there Coffee,

Thanks for yesterday. You had my back. I had an awful cold and dreadful fatigue, and needed to get through a long day with Sebastian. I strategized, making you, coffee, in the machine rather than french press, so I could afford a steady stream rather than a stiff but all-too-early shot.

And you came through. You bounced me along as we lived through a 6:30 waking, a trip to OMSI, and a long afternoon of walking, cooking, watching Reading Rainbow again and again, playing as the day slipped into night and Sebastian's playfulness turned to overtired screeching and then, finally, quiet snoring.

You are powerful. Even as you lift me up you give me a sinking, drained feeling that can only lead me to more of you. (Sometimes in the morning I wake up grateful that a new day is starting and that I can have more because the previous day, er, I reached some kind of limit even for me.)

After all those years in college (let's leave it at that, ok?), and all those mornings in New York when I struggled through the crowds on the PATH train with my little blue Greek deli cup ("regular," meaning cream and sugar) I thought I came to understand your power.

But while I was writing our knitting book I became newly impressed and amazed at the color you impart to yarn.  So full of caramel and life. So rich. (It sure makes me wonder about the  possible handpainted nature of my esophagus.)

I remember when I first got the coffee yarn for the French Press Cozy design. I was going to design something cabley and reminiscent of steam. But when I saw the color you, coffee, made with the yarn it totally changed my direction.

Press
my own crummy picture.


Your yarn looked like paneling, like wood, which made me invent a sort of mod, uneven ribbing design.  Later, the steamy image came through in the faintly racy i-cord lacing. And besides being a knitter's delight - with pretty yarn and a satisfying knitted-on edging - I'm happy to say the cozy really works to keep you hot.

How do you like it?

Thanks again, coffee, my old friend.

Write back!

Larissa

* Post Title: Martin loves to talk about the coffee achievers, and how David Bowie was one of them.
** Pattern: French Press Cozy from my book Knitalong. Also on ravelry.
***Yarn: Kona Superwash dyed with Stumptown coffee grounds. Available in a kit with enough yarn for 2 cozies or 1 cozy and another small item, exclusively at Abundant Yarn who is happy to ship. Call Stevanie or Rodger and get yourself some! It is so good.

2008.03.01

where's my cheese? do i get cheese now?



  • Ellie is in remission!
  • Sebastian had to get 3 stitches in his forehead this morning!
  • Later today, not only did he poop in the potty for the very first time!
  • But also he did it while watching The Osmonds for the very first time!
  • And besides all that
  • and working
  • and food shopping
  • and visiting with the neighbors for a while
  • I even knitted a couple rows on my spicy v-neck tee in the lovely blue Eco+ Wool.
Those people who say they can't find time to knit? They just don't need it bad enough.

2008.02.15

this is the boy who drank the milk, who peed his pants, who had to wear the leiderhosen that rodger knit.



Thank you, Rodger, we got home from playgroup today nice and warm, with all asses covered on the bus. *

And a note to everyone, I'm heading off for a knitting retreat (!) with mom and Sebastian in tow. We'll be back late Monday, so if you need something from me regarding a pattern or a dishcloth I will be checking my messages again on Monday night. Thanks.

* I hope to someday get you this store sample back. :-)

2008.01.29

it's a very good friend

Who hides your bingo wings with a blanket when photographing you. *

Thanks, Shannon! I knew I liked you, and it was only confirmed by meeting in person.

2008.01.23

knitting @ playgroup



There are babies. There are 2.5 year olds. There are boys. There are girls. Books, toys, a tent, a hot bubbling foot spa for the grown ups. Coffee, tea, sandwhiches, cheesey bread, fruit. Depending on your child and your level of comfort with him or her running around the store, you can actually knit.

Come on, Friday. What's not to yearn for?

While I sit here and work in the middle of the week, and Sebastian is at school, I can dream of a nice day together with everyone at Abundant Yarn and with my little guy. 

(We had a great one yesterday, too. We went to the park and it was soooooo cold we were the only ones there, him in his little snowsuit. So I played. We were airplanes, buzzing around the park. We ran over all the bridges, and walked all the brick walls.)

(Playgroup's at 10:30, btw, and all are welcome.)

(And that's my Drops cardigan, which I'm still making though it's fallen back to about third or fourth place in my heart right now.)

2008.01.18

bad, bad news



Ellie has lymphoma. Depending on what we do, and how she reacts, she could have anywhere from a month to a year to live. I've got to admit, I've had pets where I was sad when they died but not all that devastated. Ellie is not like that. It's going to be a horrible blow to our family. She is a brilliant dog, and I still can't believe this is happening. Every time I remember it, it stabs through my heart again. Oh, Ellie.

2008.01.16

the worst wait



Ellie went to the doctor this morning and had to have a biopsy of her lymph nodes. One of the obvious possible culprits is cancer, and we have to wait until tomorrow to find out what all her tests say. But today we'll take a nice walk and smell the cold air. And I'll continue to try to work, while I worry.

Right now, she looks pretty great, sitting here begging for steak.

2007.12.09

all systems normal



So says the MRI. This is wonderful news, just in time for party season, so I can go out and have a great time knowing I'm not dying. I can't tell you how much this means to me, being an Olympic worrier, especially on the topic of disease and dying.

Thank you all for suffering through the MRI preparations with me. It's all for the best! And another great letter has been put in my file from the doctor. This one says I have "no brain abnormalities" but I do have "extensive sinus disease" that needs to be dealt with. I knew that. The pressing, wrenching, pulsating headache each afternoon was my daily reminder, but I was waiting to deal with one illness at a time.

Now I will be completely well! And I'll know, for a brief time with great certainty, that I'm not dying of an aneurysm. I'll feel free for a good long while.

That yarn there is part of my new lease on life. It's Abundant Yarn & Dyeworks sock yarn in the Heather's Baby colorway, and I'm swatching with it for abotanicity. (Some of the people who work at Abundant Yarn will be making this, too, so I'll have some friendly pushing along.) Heather is the owner of the store, and one of the dyers, and she has a beautiful little girl who is Sebastian's friend. Heather and I have become friends also, and it's so nice to go there every week and have such loving people around me. What a sweet store.

And I'll have half a sweater to honor it. Just kidding, maybe I will really finish it.

2007.11.23

7 years ago yesterday

Our eyes met, at least one of us whimpered, and the kisses tasted like turkey drippings and mashed potatoes.



It's been good times ever since. Ellie is a good dog.

2007.11.14

recycling



Y'know how sometimes you think things are settlted, and are going to be one way? And then you spend the night in the ER with an IV full of Atavan? Exactly! I had four seizures last night between 5 pm and 9 pm, after having had none for over two months. It's even more alarming, somehow, when the medicine has been working and suddenly it doesn't and no one knows why. (The doctor implied that my 3-week-plus cold may have something to do with this but didn't really say so. It would be nice to have an explanation. Yeah, for everything in life, right?)

It was sad because Sebastian and I were having the nicest day. We sat at Tandem and he played with a TON of kids while I knit a square for mason dixon's afghan. (I met several knitting mommies I'd never known before. Nice.) Then we had incredible bus luck, a nice walk home collecting leaves and rocks and berries, and he got into bed and (gasp) took a nap. It was like a fairy tale of a mommy and little boy having a nice morning.

I had time to work on my recycled stuff for the SCRAP holiday bazaar on December 8. Sarah and I got in! It was a juried process to select vendors, and we'd been in last year. As I recall it was a really fun bazaar, but Sarah was pregnant, sick, and couldn't eat any of the sandwiches and treats from pix. This year she'll have Monroe in a sling and I'm sure she'll be eating plenty.

I'm determined to not upset myself and make everything last minute. So here are my first items. Gauntlets. $15? $20? Here's another view. And the front. I also started several hats out of that same sweater, and a pair of pulse warmers. It feels so industrious and pure to get five projects out of one cast-off sweater I found in the bins. It'll feel even better if someone pays me for them at SCRAP so I'll have extra Christmas money. ;-)

Anyhow, I got started on these projects, then Sebastian woke up and we loaded up the buggy to go to the playground. On the way there I found myself lying on the floor of the woods, looking up at pretty trees, with Ellie and Sebastian strapped in and just sort of waiting silently for me. I called Martin and my mom to come meet me at the park, and while walking home I had another seizure, this time on pavement so my head hurts. A third at home in bed, and fourth at the hospital round out my special Tuesday night. I didn't even get to put Sebastian to bed. He was already sleeping when I got home. It made me feel, for the nth time, like an invalid. A mommy who's always in bed or at the hospital or on the floor. I know that's not true, but I hope he doesn't remember me as always sleeping. :(

I guess, overall I am doing a lot better with this than I was a few months ago. But as I feel I'm living with it, it comes back again to do something, like poke me in the ribs and say "Not so fast, lady, I'm still here." Well...so am I.

2007.11.11

the boys partied for gg's birthday



And we had baked potato bar, and hats, and cake! (That would be chocolate cake with wet walnut filling and mocha buttercream, as per the birthday girl's request.)

Happy Birthday, Mom.

p.s. Somewhat embarrassingly, Sarah and I both wore our ravelry beta t-shirts.

2007.10.04

did it! all!



Photo by my sister, Lynette Golden.

Besides finishing the vest, the night before the wedding, we celebrated, saw off my little brother (who yes, looks like House) with his lovely bride (eee!), met my sister's boyfriend with whom she's extremely seriously going to get married, wore my fabulous dress and shoes, saw Betsy Ross House (my choice of one Philadelphia landmark; she was a seamstress after all), ate a lot of good food including lots of waffles at various hotels, and made it home through all our airplane rides, including two planes alone with just me and Sebastian. The little man loved his new uncle (the very seriously going to get married one), and had a great time getting re-acquainted with his aunt.

Ahhhh, it's so good to be home. He's asleep, probably for about two days.

2007.09.13

happy birthday sarah


Photo belongs to Sarah.

Dear Sarah,

I admit, this post is two days late. And my present for you is sitting on my kitchen table, its perfect ribbon torn off by Sebastian and shoved into my backpack.

The thing is, even when I bought the present two months ago I knew that eventually it would be late. But  you are the kind of friend who doesn't mind. Doesn't mind lateness, and people with peanut butter on their puddle boots. You welcome us in, no matter our state when we arrive, and no matter what time it is. You are the ultimate welcomer. Even when I come over when I'm at the end of my rope, to join you at the end of yours and swing there together, with coffee.

And you are the ultimate goer, always ready to do fun things together, even if it will take 10 buses to get there and we'll all be really late and there will be a hundred babies everywhere, you still will go. You are the one making a birthday cake from scratch even when it's way too late and the party is over, because it's worth a try!

You've inspired me these past few years, and, well, kept me alive. You were the one who said everything was okay when I was worried about anything about Sebastian. You were the one forging ahead and having another baby when I was just having one, and so you were all-knowing. And you were the sewist, the one who wasn't afraid to make things without patterns.

Our lives have gotten ever fuller, ever busier, ever harder lately. Especially yours. But I hope that you and I will sit down and sew some things soon. That maybe you'll come to the playdate at Abundant Yarn tomorrow morning at 10:30 and I can buy you some quiche.  And give you the present.

I love you,
Larissa

p.s. To all who are reading this, apparently it is hard having three boys and I think Sarah had very little birthday to speak of on Tuesday. Feel free to leave birthday wishes here for Sarah and I'll make sure she gets them. :-)

2007.08.12

10 years and a day



Yesterday was our 10th anniversary. I can't describe what a beautiful team we are, me and Martin. And very in love after all this time. We go somewhere every year on our anniversary to look at the meteor shower, which peaks on August 11. This time we went to stay in a beautiful Mongolian yurt on Sauvie Island.

It was a bit odd that Alicia had recommended the place, after very recently staying there for her 10th anniversary. I almost didn't want to take any pictures because we were soooo copying her and Andy. I even crocheted on my ripple blanket. (I haven't done anything this Single White Female since 7th grade, when I bought the exact same outfit as a girl named Maria at Hit or Miss and wore it to school the next day. Sorry, Alicia.)

But I have to admit we did go, and it was very perfect. The stars from there are tremendously bright and the sky is packed with them, like it only can be when you're not near a city. We rested, oh so gloriously rested, and we looked through the hole in our yurt ceiling at the night sky and imagined we were on a spaceship. It was so lovely, so quiet (except for a gun-club interlude) and so good to spend time with Ellie without anyone else around. The mornings were especially rare, so peaceful and self-directed. I ran at the beach, and we cooked hot dogs on a stick. We brought fancy wine and salmon cakes, and we did crossword puzzles and slept outside in the middle of the day.

We're back now, and immediately into everything. But so much better for it. And at 10 years and counting.

2007.08.10

who's your buddy?



It makes a person realize what a good friend they have. When they're out of yarn on a project, and their friend casually says, Oh, yeah, I have a skein of Malabrigo in Glazed Carrot. Do you want it? Martin seemed frankly amazed by this exchange. Glazed Carrot is not exactly what most people have lying around. It's not quite like borrowing a cup of sugar. And yet, the exchange was made at a public park in broad daylight, and here I am--done with the knitting on my Two Tone Ribbed Shrug.

I haven't tucked in the ends yet, but preliminary trying on suggests it's going to be very cute. Not a word I use often in a serious way, but this shrug really is adorable. It looks like some old-time movie jacket, like I'm going to put this on and whip out my long cigarette holder.

The sleeves need some thinking on. They either need to be longer or shorter, right now hitting at an odd place right past my elbow. But I think this will be very good, and that I'll make another for sure.

2007.07.28

we interrupt this progress to take a picture of this progress



It's been an odd week, but in some ways so rewarding. (I guess there's no need to be mysterious. I'm taking some new medication for seizures. I hadn't had any in years and they suddenly came back.)

One thing that's been unexpectedly nice is that I can't drive. So I've spent quite a bit of my time at home, and at our local park with Sebastian. Going to "the brown park" (he calls it that; it's wooded and wood-chipped and the play structure is brown and green), has meant walking and running every day, and has been really joyful for the little man. He seems to understand that we'll go there a lot now, so he's less desperate when it's time to leave. And he's really coming up with a system for exploring the whole playground in order each time. We have some little rituals now. On the see-saws he has to "turn them on" by pressing what he calls the buttons, but which are the bolts that hold them together. He's funny. It's nice.

I've had time to appreciate the view from my cushion, and I pruned and weeded our side yard for a wonderful BBQ last night, with new friends and old friends. I love to see new friends and old friends talking to each other and laughing. Sarah and Jonathan were here with their three boys! Jonathan took over the grill, which was perfect. I made some good brown jasmine rice with butter and honey and garam masala, and Alicia made a delicious buttermilk pound cake with strawberries and whipped cream on it. Sebastian sat on my lap in the gathering dark and ate whipped cream and berries from a huge bowl.

My mom talked about an old movie that was one of our absolute favorites when I was a child. It's one of those things that's a vivid snapshot from my early years, and it immediately conjures up feelings of wonder, home, safety, love, everything I associate with being a kid and nothing the movie is actually about. When movies we liked came on TV, like all the holiday movies, Mom would make special food to go with each one and make a huge to-do about them. This movie - while not a holiday one - involves pancakes. A witch who makes intense blueberry pancakes that make everyone happy. Have you seen it? Alicia remembered it too and we had a wonderful moment realizing that anyone else in the universe had ever loved this obscure little movie.

I also felt warm enough to own up to the group that I'm a member of the Laura Ingalls Wilder club, and Martin and Andy made handmade coffee that came out delicious, always a good sign that it's been a lovely evening.

The other day I had so much time at home I actually pulled out my Gibson Girl sweater from 2004. I had no idea how to work this kind of lace when I started this sweater, but it intimidates me a lot less now. I did 10 rows, then decided to work another 10 sometime soon. No pressure. It was intended for fall 2004, then fall 2005 seemed like a good idea because my body would small enough again (aka not pregnant) to wear it and I worked on it alot right before Sebastian was born, then fall 2006 seemed nice...Maybe fall 2007 is my lucky year for this project?

2007.07.13

a few lovely things



It's summer here. Really, truly summer, hot, people walking past to the park all day, dogs nosing around, kids off school, popsicles, watermelon, summer. For some reason we'd gotten rid of our living room curtains and were baking away every afternoon, miserably cooking in the glare, unable to see our post-nap TV screen (yes, we watch Kipper for a few minutes after nap, during the incredibly looooooong slow waking process).

Summer feels easy. I am an anxious person, always trying too hard at everything, making everything harder than it needs to be. In second grade, the teacher gave us a long word and asked us to make as many smaller words as we could out of it. I made four words out of it, total, without repeating any letters. Of course, she meant to make one small word then start over, make another small word start over. This is how I tend to do things, the hard way, and then I'm horrified when I have only 4 small words when everyone else has like 50.

I've always felt like I'm a newbie at this. I'm a new soul, and I don't know how to do anything. Inadequately oriented.

Summer doesn't make me feel this way. I feel like I know how to do it. It's nice.

Anyway, I meant for this post to be about a few lovely things. Not at all the same scale as one another, but here they are in one list:

2007.07.10

on a very hot, beautiful summer day



Sarah was working downtown, so when the contractions started she took the bus to the hospital. Her slip on high heel shoes were tossed aside, her steel-eyed determination convinced the on-call doctor to let her attempt a VBAC after two previous c-sections, and then she set to finishing her pinwheel blanket. Once it was bound off, a few short hours later Monroe Gilbert Hanson was born, at 11:40 pm on July 9th, without surgery.

I left my camera at home in the excitement of leaving to go meet her at the hospital. But we too plenty of film pictures, and I'm sure I'll have some links in the next 24 hours. He's adorable.

2007.06.23

summer night moments



Thursday night we went out to throw a party for Sarah (left) and her impending baby. A bunch of us are making a knitalong blanket out of strips of Louet Gems, and I gathered the pieces that were finished. One from Olivia. One from Hau (she's there on the right). One from Susan, almost off her needles when I took this picture.

I've been having summer longing these days. Big changes in weather seem to make me ravenous for the opposite, and they intensify my feelings. Make me feel time passing so acutely. The heat and activity followed by the luxurious cool night air is doing this to me these past two weeks.

I wish for the millionth time in my life to have a camera in my head that is more reliable than my memory. But then realize for the same number-eth of times that I don't want that. I want the imperfect memories, glazed with a heat shimmer and dusted with a summer night cold.

I have a snapshot in my mind of a night at the very tail end of last summer when I had just set up my new craft room. I had the door cracked open and was working late, and a neighbor walked by and yelled hello. Another. Then a third neighbor came up on our yard, over to the window, handed a beer in and asked what I was up to. A perfect bow-tied-on-a-box, honest to God ice-cream-man moment of summer.

When I think of these past moments I'm filled up with - not happiness - but a sense of coziness and cheer. But when the moments are actually happening I get terribly lonesome and sad. I see them happening, then think we're all going to die. I think I'm having nostalgia in advance.

Thursday night was a quickly organized party for Sarah, who is either going to have a baby any minute or bear the name Chicken Little forevermore. She arrived in an adorable outfit with her enormous pregnancy looking very different than it had just a day ago.

We ate delicious chutneys and rice studded with black cumin seeds, a beet salad with roasted chickpeas that crunched and then disappeared in the mouth, and a cold blend of white wines. After dinner it wasn't enough time out having fun and knitting, so Sarah and I went alone to pix for dessert. She had a chocolate thing made of chocolate logs, I had a strawberry and liqueur soaked cake topped with Italian meringue. We were fancy people. We stayed out late. Like 10 o'clock. Cars were cruising by with radios on, the air hung heavy even at that hour.

Sarah forgot her camera, so I pulled around the corner on a particular block of Clinton Street where there's always someone skateboarding, bicycling, playing guitar on a porch. The fun block. We got back to pix and she ran in to get the camera. As she walked out, clicking on her probably last-time-this-pregnancy high heels, she raised her arm in the dark to make out her watch and hit the "split" button to start timing a contraction. I sat alone in the dark car and longed for the moment even as it passed.

2007.06.17

thanks to mary



Mary is someone who test knitted for our book, and I got to know her through email. Her blog is now missing (Mary? Are you there?) But I got the most outrageous birthday package from her. You see, Mary made a square for the Barn Raising Quilt for the book. And Mary's square was my two favorite colors together, brown and green. I loved it, and I put it right in the middle of the blanket.

Mary wrote to me and said that it was meaningful to her that I'd put her square in there, and so we conversed a bit. And then months went by, and she sent me this amazing skein of Yarn Pirate sock yarn in the same Shamrock colorway that she used for the blanket. I immediately wanted to knit with it,  but then realized I have, oh, more than a dozen projects already. Must. Wait. Think. First.

Thank you, Mary, wherever you have gone. I love the whole package, which also has some delicious soap and a knitting gauge check of a sort I've never seen before and chocolate that's quickly been devoured. But more than that I love that you thought enough of a virtual stranger to do such a nice thing for my birthday. And I love the yarn best of all, which has become a river for my dollar store metal cow.

Thank you.

2007.05.30

onto something



Something else from Fitted Knits - the Two Toned Shrug. It's going lightning fast and it's soft and lovely. I'm knitting mine in Malabrigo worsted in Pearl, and I'm thinking about Glazed Carrot for the edging. I love the combination, I'm just wondering if I'll want to wear it when I finish it, or if it will be too cool for me to pull off. Maybe I should stick with some other colors I have? Simply taube. Black forest. Marron oscuro. But the carrot is so vibrant and thick.

We had fun birthdays here, mine as well as Sebatian's. I got to go to the farmers' market with my whole family and then out to dinner with girlfriends for delicious buttery mushrooms, goat cheese laden beet salad, red velvet cake, and watermelon sorbet with cracked pepper and cloves.

I'm getting fully into running training, and I'm timing myself running from my house to the top of Mt. Tabor and touching the statue. I'm up to 26 minutes 19 seconds, but I'd love to get to 20 minutes flat.

I have 4 donors for the Run for Congo Women - thank you thank you thank you! It is a hard thing to write and think about, and no doubt hard to be faced with on a blog that you come to for knitting. It's been probably my least popular blog entry ever, as in very little feedback either way. I  appreciate those of you who commented and donated.

And in fact, I should make that 5 donors, because I asked Harrison down the street who is about 6 years old and whom we've sponsored for Run for the Arts before.  I asked him for $2 and after his head about exploding at the thought of him sponsoring me he said yes to the 2 bucks and then added "Maybe I'll do more." Like, We'll just wait and see  how you do, Missy. Hilarious.

2007.05.14

2 peas in a pod



I had the pleasure of meeting Julia and Marnie this week. We hung out at Knit-Purl for a long while, then had pho for a really late lunch before they got back on the train to Marnie's part of town. I was really thrilled to meet them, and also as usual rather nervous and embarrassed though there was no reason to be because they are just as nice as hell.*

And such a cute pair of friends! They were like two little peas in a friendship pod, so happy to be together hanging out. I thought one of them was going to be smaller than she was, and another was going to be taller than she was, but in reality they are pretty much the same size, which sounds funny but was so surprising. It's amazing the concept of people I create by looking at them only on the screen, primarily in photos they take of themselves. It's so odd, how we knitting bloggers know each other but really don't quite. I can't articulate this any better than others have already done, so I'll leave it at that I guess.

I was having so much fun just finding out who these women were, and sharing experiences and advice, and all eating a lot (so nice to find other people who like to eat) I didn't take a photo.

* In particular, Julia, I didn't tell you this but you have the exact voice and mannerisms of one of my best friends, Eden, who is far away in Boston, and I felt so close to her while I spent time with you. It was a treat and made me feel instantly at home with you.

2007.05.07

the meathead report



It's been a while, and I may be slow but I'm a good finisher. I get my prizes sent out, finally, to their new owners, I jog with my last ounce of energy through the finish line, and I finally report on how much money you all raised for Cassie and her family back when you bought meathead hat knitting patterns.

I thought maybe 30 people would respond, and my dream was for a 3-digit number, $100, enough to really help Cassie when she needed to put an easy meal on the table or the kids needed shoes. Little did I dream that we could raise $744.75!

Thank you so much for all your generosity, and all your creativity. Our collective knitting energy has created a small but meaningful shift in the force. Apparently Cassie has taken up knitting and is on fire working on her sixth project already or some crazy thing like that.

You can click the mosaic above to see some of the details about those hats, but I think bighugelabs is having a hiccup of some kind. For example, how did that turkey get included? It's not supposed to be there, but it's so cute I decided to leave it in.

You're great. Don't forget it.

2007.04.17

a hat in the rain



I was walking last night with Sebastian in the "buggy" and Ellie by our side, and the park was quiet. Still except for the gentle sloshing of the reservoir water, which was tinged purple and blue with streaks from the antique lights that hang over it. It was too cold for the clothes I'd worn, and I had no hat. It started raining, a soft Portland mist that somehow has intention, and you know even though it's a mere spray that it's going to get worse. Sebastian was cozy inside his chariot, but I was getting frozen and wetter by the second. I didn't want to give up our walk, but oh the cold.

I reached in to the stroller and found...a hat. A wool hat, very pretty. The one you see above on Sebastian in fact. It's sized for a 2-year old and barely fits him, but I was desperate. I tugged it onto my head as hard as I could and it just about made it down to the tops of my ears.

And it was waaaaarmmmmmmm. It felt delicious. I could keep walking and survive. In fact, I could stand still and watch the water shift around in the deepening dark while Ellie nosed the grass. As I stood there I had a shock of realization that it was Kyrie's knitting on my head. Her stitches, that she made with her hands, were keeping me warm and letting me go on. It was so fundamental. I was so grateful.

I had this feeling many times when I opened squares for the group afghan. That is Siri's knitting, right there! People I'd known only online had sent the work of their very hands to me. It was deeply moving.

I don't get too much room to capture all this in the book. But I do talk about it a bit, because I think it's really important to remember that knitting is special. It's not quick. It's not funky. It's not easy peasey. It's work, often hard work, loving work that we do for one another.

"Making something for another person is a profound act. In a world where we often get obsessed with 'quick gifts' and piling up FOs, it's too easy to forget what a fundamental and meaningful thing it is to create a knitted object and give that creation away."


That's our first book excerpt ever. Read it and weep? Hmmm, I think I need to make it more emotional. In a good way.

2007.03.23

coming (back) out



I've been conversing with Ann (and via Ann, Kay) about them coming to Portland for some time now. And next week it will finally happen! However, I didn't know that Ann would blog about it right now, thus sending probably the majority of you looking at this post my way. Um..... Hi there! Come on in and take a peek around the place.

I saw Ann's post and thought Must. Put up. Something. Pretty. Thousands of people will visit and see a post about my being fat as the top thing? Not acceptable. And not really indicative of me either. But oh so reflecting me? The nearing three-year-old squares blanket project. Pretty, persistent,  and as Sarah says in her tag line about herself:  lovably behind schedule and out of date.

I hope to meet some of you at Abundant Yarn on March 28th. I'll bring some of these squares maybe and try to get back on track. I've been working a lot on a big project and I'm dreaming of finishing off the old knitting that got set aside this past year.

2007.03.07

let the blue (or pink) knitting...er...commence!


Photo by Sarah Gilbert.

We're just not sure.

I mean, we're pretty much sure. Sarah described it as 98% sure when she called her husband who'd gone off to Kansas for the Army. We both swear we saw boy parts. But Sarah had a most uninformative ultrasound with a very unforthcoming tech who could would not confirm.

Doesn't he understand the implications of his nonchalance?  That now we will have to knit in green and gold and purple?

Good thing we like those colors anyway.

2007.03.05

meathead hats, ending soon



I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the number of people contributing to help my friend Cassie. As of today (and without a proper accounting) we have raised more than $640 for her and her kids!  Holy XXX. I don't know what I thought, really, except to say that I imagined emailing out something like 30 patterns and giving Cassie $100.

Thank you so much for making it a lot better than my wimpy little vision.  I have it on good authority that Cassie is amazed and thankful for your support.  Also reportedly, she may learn to knit and make a meathead hat as her first project!

Contributions have slowed somewhat and I am heading into photo crunch time for our book in the next 8 days, so I'm going to end this sale/fundraiser on Thursday, March 8, at Noon Pacific time. Get your patterns now if you want any more. They will become available again in Spring 2008 in our book.

Thank you thank you thank you so much!

2007.02.26

something

Htcexchange24

Photo, hood to coast: 5 a.m., exchange #24 by Sarah Gilbert.

If you've been reading here a while, you may remember that last summer I had the extraordinary opportunity to be on an all-moms running team for the Hood to Coast relay. One of my teammates who inspired me to run better and harder, who was always committed and totally gung ho, was Cassie. In the van, we started calling her Cast Iron Cassie because she ran through absolutely anything in the most diligent, even, and hard-assed manner. At the end of each of her legs she collapsed from the effort. It was absolutely clear she'd given her all. In fact, at her first exchange she actually sat down in the exchange shoot, such was her dedication and all-outness. She couldn't even walk another step.

I've been thinking alot about Cassie, because she has had an unbelievable tragedy happen to her and her family. Her husband was out jogging and was killed by a car. Christopher was 37 years old. He and Cassie were training to run in a team together for this summer's relay. The news reports are brief and horrible, and gone already from the stream of Internet time. He was struck by a driver who was not drinking, who had swerved away from an oncoming car. He was jogging on the sidewalk. No one was doing anything wrong. He died later that night at OHSU.

Though it's completely unrelated to knitting, in my life right now I have no other way of dealing with anything. And I was thinking about something I could do for Cassie and her kids.  And in researching the book, I've learned that knitting does play a healing role in life's worst situations.  So even though it's not at all connected in any sense that most people could detect, I am asking for some support via a knitting pattern.

I even started creating a scarf pattern, and it's almost done, except (see last post) I am drowning in work. And I want that pattern to be perfect before I sick it on you, my readers.

So this is what I can and want to do. I've had a lot of requests for the meathead hat pattern, even though the knitalong has ended and the book is not yet available. So what I'd like to do is make the meathead knitting pattern available to anyone for $4.50, and $3 of every sale will go to the Christopher Donn Memorial Fund for his and Cassie's children. This is the only way this pattern will be made available until the book comes out next spring.

I'm not able to figure out right now today how to do a downloadable product with paypal . So it will be an emailed pdf file from me once your payment is complete. You will need to pay by paypal (button below), and I will email the document to the address from which you pay (or to any one email address you designate). You'll need Adobe Acrobat Reader to open the pattern document. I'll send it to one email address per payment, and it's non-shareable so please consider buying it more than once if you want to give it to friends.

It's a totally simple pattern, and it comes in two adult sizes. You could adjust it for children's sizes quite easily by changing yarn & needles. I guess what I'm saying is, it's so simple. Please don't think of it as buying 5 dollars worth of knitting wisdom, so much as making a contribution in a time of need.

In fact, if you've knitted the meathead pattern already, you could buy it anyway and I'll send it to anyone whose email you designate in the "notes" section on paypal.

I know probably 99% of you don't know this family. But I know you're an empathetic, helpful, and caring bunch. Thank you for your support, and I hope you enjoy.  And hold your loved ones and be thankful.

The pattern sale and fundraiser has ended. Thank you so much for your generous support!

2007.01.24

11 and rising



That's the square count as of today, what I have in hand. Every day Mom goes to her mailbox to pick them up and it's like Santa coming all over again. I have squares from Oiyi, Siri, Chawne (that's her square above), Katie, and Jessica (we sound like a private school cheerleading team).

I had a date with a neighbor today to block a shawl for our book. Erin has a whole room with a whole bed in it that no one is using, something that sounds strange and wonderful and far off as we are still living four humans and four pets to a tiny house during our construction. And Erin doesn't have as many creatures crawling and sniffing around her house. Anyway, her place is good for the shawl blocking. But. She wasn't home during nap. So I got to "sneak away" from my obligations for a few minutes today and I got to do some knitting. For myself.

I actually finished and bound off the front piece of my klaralund...

Klaralundpieces


...so now all that is left is the back. I felt awfully guilty, but also realized I needed a break from thinking about more complicated patterns, where I am in charge and peoples' future project success is depending on me. Enough of that sort of pressure happens when I open the square envelopes and realize I have a lot of blanket making to do in the next week and a half.

But I'd almost forgotten how very nice it is to get all the notes and little presents that come along with such squares. Siri sent me a thrifted camo shirt that looks oddly like this fabric (which I never did get). Very cool! And she sent six squares, all gorgeous.

(She is seriously contending for the most squares prize, so anyone who has a few done you might want to crank it up, honey).

whee!

Kyrie's having a baby today! Now her other little one can take the stuffed bear out of her shirt. Though that was damn cute.

2007.01.19

6 x 6 x 6



Here's a 6 x 6 mosaic of some recent flickr favorites of mine. You can click on the image to go the flickr page where all the links are to each individual photo.

And the third 6? Well, Kyrie tagged me for the 6 weird things about me meme. And seeing as how she's probably in labor, like right now, I thought I would oblige. It's tough, though. As she noted, you get used to yourself and stop thinking that things about you are weird. Are these?

1. Certain numbers seem very right and others not. This is somewhat affecting my knitting designs, since if I need a person to cast on around 45 sts, more often than not I'll go ahead up to 47 (an auspicious Star Trek number). Or I'll go out of my way to have a cast on be a double digit, like 11 or 22 or 33. These are always the best numbers, 11 in particular. When I was nearing labor and heading out to the hospital  on May 10th, I knew Sebastian would be born the next day because the 11th was a good day to be born. I am suspicious of 4.

2.  I still watch Star Trek Voyager every night. Sometimes two episodes a night. I'm wearing out the disks. Did you hear that people? Wearing. Out. DVDs. They will no longer play. As my friend Melissa said about her 2-year-old taking her books out and putting them back all day, "It's like the ocean."

3. We get dressed in the basement. We have a whole beautiful dressing room down there, with a metal bar that goes from the dryer around the room like a dry-cleaner's rack. Our house is just so small and this way we don't have to carry clothes up and down. Our house is so much neater now that we built this.

4. For one year, in 1998 I think it was, I recorded everything I worried about, typing it all out onto a long piece of parchment paper on a vintage typewriter. My husband would wake up and hear me banging away in the living room, worrying about shit like "cat could have cancer" (not even remotely a problem at that time, and still not).

5. I was on a synchronized swim team as a little girl, and I still miss it.

6. I once built a 10' tall mound out of interoffice envelopes. Not to mention my 25' foot fountain of garbage. It didn't feel weird at the time, but looking back I could see how it might seem strange. And I'm tired, so I'm taking the mound and the fountain as my freebie. :-)

Go Mama K! I hope we meet your little Birdie soon.

2007.01.11

the magic words



When I was a younger knitter, and just starting to make things that weren't long garter stitch strips or slippers for my grandfather, I dreamed of the day I'd get asked the magic question. "Did you make that?" And I'd get to say yes. Yes, yes, yes. It would feel so good. So solid. An amazing reward.

Now that I knit so damn much, I've sadly become inured to the magic. I get more embarrassed than proud sometimes, admitting that I knitted half the objects on my body. Or feeling like I have to justify my yarn and pattern choices to a Portland audience who all knows what I'm up to. The questions tend to be less like admiring "Did you make that?"s and more like snide "Another fetching?"s.

Then just the other day I was walking downtown with this felted bag in my hand, yarn nearly spilling out of it, and someone asked me a very, very admiring "Did you make that?" There was clear and honest love of the bag, and amazement that maybe I had indeed made it.

And I got to say the magic words.

"No. My friend made it for me."

It turns out these magic words are more delicious to say than any. Because now that I knit so much, I know what it means to make something for someone else. To put your creative energy and all your choices and your hands and time into it.  Thank you Sarah for a gorgeous bag. Everyone who sees it admires it and loves it. And I get to say the magic words.