The Turkey Mantra: Bite Me, Eat Me.

Best Quote I Heard All Day
The most remarkable thing about my mother is that for thirty years she served the family nothing but leftovers. The original meal has never been found.—Calvin Trillin


Not to denigrate my mother’s cooking skills but my brother and I often played games with “Leftovers Delight”, a gruesome dish that my mother created using leftover mystery meat, canned LeSeur peas, and canned potatoes. The gravy was a watery mishmash of bouillon and whatever juice the meat retained after a day’s refrigeration.

I remember Rich and I flinging peas at each other. Assassination via overcooked vegetables.

Aren’t you glad I wrote the above after the holiday? Jerry and I went to Scrappy’s for a fabulous dinner and then to his sister Pat’s for dessert, entertainment provided by his wonderful nieces Michelle aka Sheldon and Kelly. Michelle and I share the same birthday. She's studying at the Berkeley School of Music in Boston. The Sisty Uglers went their own ways, with Corinne, Liz, and Mike to his parents in Williamsburg, VA., and Jenn, Ian, and Norm staying home and cooking their own bird. Ma and Brüder Richard we at Scrappy’s too. Mammy’s doing quite well., although a bit washed out from her cancer treatments.

BookWoim
I’m spending this holiday weekend moving crap from PA to NJ, shoving in some knitting time, and getting the draft book outline pulled together. I found a reputable literary agent, one who will also serve well for non-knitting writing. Once I’ve finished “Knitting in Public”, I will move on to other writing. There’s only so far you can take writing about knitting, in my opinion. I’d rather reach a larger audience at some point. It would make for a good retirement job.

I’ve been toying about publishing a chapter here, to get feedback and hopefully constructive criticism. Authors should never evaluate their work. Depending upon how it goes with the book proposal submittal, I may do this.

Loopy’s Socks
One of my shove-it-down-my-throat projects is making these socks for Jerry’s nieces. I can complete one sock in about 6 hours or so. The glory of working with heavier yarn. These make terrific boot socks and I’ve been doing the sizing, so I expect to have a freebie pattern uploaded very soon for your knitting entertainment. The sizes will include children’s as well as women’s and men’s. Plain vanilla, nothing to them. So hardly a "design." One of the things I have in my head is to use the Raggi self-patterning for a hat design. I saw one done at Stix ‘n’ Stitches when I was there recently and have my own ideas for a funky but chic hat.


Where I’m going to find the fucking time to do all this shit is beyond me. I manage to shove 10 pounds of shit into a 5-pound bag quite well but there are days when I’d like to lie in the bathtub and read for an hour, thinking about nothing. Oh yeah, I forgot. I've done some spindling too, when I get bored knitting these socks.

I bought this Corriedale at the Garden State Sheep & Wool show, from a local producer. It spins like buttah. Of course, my wonderful Golding spindle helps a lot. This is one of my Russian hand-painted spindles.


More on Da Mags
Interesting discussion in the comments for the last post. I truly don’t have a problem with magazines recycling old material as long as it’s clear that there’s nothing new in the issue, which IK did in their editor's note. For one thing, the designers get a small fee for reprint if they sold their designs as First North American Serial Rights or First Rights. If they sold all rights, the magazine owns their design. The other advantage to these recycled issues is that many people like to have popular patterns gathered into one issue, particularly if they didn’t buy the original issue or book where the design appeared.

On the other hand, new is always the best, although in IK’s case, I would say that they may be better off recycling old stuff.

Step mentioned the Brit magazine The Knitter, which I had bought and forgot to mention. As close as I’ve been able to tell, it’s been around for more than a year. The magazine features top designers like Martin Storey, Louisa Harding, Erica Knight. I bought mine at Barnes & Noble, if I recall correctly.

Fiberality
That’s the word I use for my world. I don’t live in reality, I live in fiberality. Despite the hectic work schedule, I’ve managed to get some spinning done. One of the projects I set forth for myself was to spin a heavier single. It may seem to novice spinners that spinning thin is difficult. It’s not. What’s difficult is to be able to flip between thin and thick. Brain retraining is required. Or perhaps brain regression.

I’ve always followed Mabel Ross’s advice: Measure and count. This is key. The rotation of the wheel matched with the draft makes for consistent spinning. So when spinning thicker, I had to readjust my rotation count and align it with drafting more fibers into the twist. It took me several minutes but here’s the result.

Here's some laceweight silk I've been spinning, the Chasing Rainbows I bought at Rhinebeck.

I am now confident that I can spin whatever I want. I spin what I like to knit, as a rule. But with weaving as another option, I’d like to spin some heavier, more interesting weft yarns.

I’m hoping to talk Sheila into moving towards selling spinning fibers and spindles in her shop. I’ve offered to teach a beginner’s class to get her going. Haven’t taught in a while but I do love to teach. Even working as a software trainer was fun. I make sure I leave ‘em laughin’. And knowing WTF they’re doing.

So, mes petite choux (that’s French for “my little cabbages”), time to get back to Jerry, who’s watching TV. Five days off, albeit moving crap most of the time. And then this coming Friday, Jerry’s having same-day surgery on his shoulder. Old war injury, so to speak. Well, actually an old touch football injury. So I will be playing Nancy Nurse. Now I ask you, is that not the most rare and handy role I could possibly play? Or perhaps it will be more like Nurse Ratchet.

MD Sheep Shit and Mud

Best Quote I Heard All Day

To create man was a quaint and original idea, but to add the sheep was tautology--Mark Twain

God knows there were throngs of both at MD. I won't be going to MD again. Frankly, the thrill of insane women throwing themselves into already crowded booths, with or without strollers, has lost its charm for me. MD is far worse a venue than Rhinebeck. Why I thought it had perhaps gotten better in the ten years since last I attended is a mystery. 

I fully understand why newbies want to go. You'll never see such wares in one place. If you have not, then do so once. 

I'll stick with Rhinebeck, which is a far better festival.

None-da-less, I was happy to see BJ and Carol, albeit briefly. I bought what I wanted and got out of Dodge at noon. Here's what I bought. Not much.

Two Golding spindles. Bottom is the Celtic Knot, the top is Bali Sweetheart #8, which has a Russian insert. This is a one-of-a-kind. Below is the picture that the Goldings have on their website.

It's .87 ounces. Perfect for what I spin.

No, I didn't buy the Ladybug. Decided against it. Instead, today I ordered something else online from Halcyon that will be far more useful to me. When it shows up, hopefully by Friday, you'll see it.

The fiber at the festival seemed to be merino-heavy. I did find some lovely silk, though. The little bags below are about a half-ounce each. They'll be spun for a scarf similar to the one I made last year.

And here's some more silk. This is tussah. 

Of course, Jerry was with me. And he thoroughly enjoyed himself, asked lots of questions, and was blown away by the Golding Shepherdess wheel. Jerry gets the whole fiber deal. And finds it interesting. 

He wandered away frequently to look at something. Thank God he's tall. Otherwise, I would have lost him in the crowds.

Finally, on the way out, I spotted this stuff--70% wool, 30% seacell. I bought enough to make a short jacket or vest.

Of course, when I'm going to find the time to do all of this is a major question. But I'll find the time.

The good news is, I will be doing some writing for Spin-Off. Amy Clarke Moore has asked me to write for her, and I will. An interview with a secret celebrity will be forthcoming. And I have other articles to pitch to her, as well. I'll keep you posted as to who, what, when, and where.

I didn't take too many pictures of the event itself. What was more important to me than going to MD S&W was the event of the next day.

Will You Still Love Me, When I'm 64?

Or when I'm 59? On Sunday, the weather was so foul, Jerry and I headed down to Virginia to see one of my oldest and dearest friends, Peggy Carroll Fallon. We've been friends since 1965, when she was a freshman and I a sophomore at Montclair High School in NJ. 

We were the writing wunderkind back then. We wrote poetry together, played in the orchestra together ('cello for her, violin for me), and shared life beyond that, when we had our children Danny and Jenn, Melissa and Corinne, literally at the same time. Then Peg married Bill, her second husband, had two more kids, and they moved to Virginia, to an 1865 farmhouse. 

Sometimes, even though you haven't seen someone in three years, it's just a nanosecond. Prior to that, we had lost each other for 25 years. Now, we're together again. The only thing missing was the third piece--our Dottie. 

The love of a friend is inestimably rare and handy. Leaving her on Sunday was like ripping my arm out of its socket. But we'll be together again, shortly. Because I'm going back to old Virginny soon.

Snot Rockets

Best Quote I Heard All Day
The first thing I do in the morning is brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue.--Dorothy Parker

It's been awhile since I've used a quote from another unrepentant Jersey girl knitter. Yes, Dot was a knitter.

And if you read the somewhat uninteresting article in this issue of Piecework, so was Eleanor Roosevelt.

I had the great good fortune to meet her in 1961, when she gave a lecture at an Episcopalian church in Upper Montclair, where I grew up. My friend Dottie, whose family belonged to St. James's, was with me, since it was her mother's idea for us to go. Mrs. Roosevelt was Episcopalian and lived in Hyde Park in her Val Kill home at the time, so it's not surprising that she made an appearance in an Upper Montclair church.

I was 11 and being the fearless little girl that I was, stood up during the question and answer period and posed a question to Mrs. Roosevelt about the Russian missile threat. She was incredibly gracious and after the lecture, she thanked me for asking such a good question. I was, and still am, thrilled to have had the honor of meeting her.

Obligatory Knitting Shit
Finished the mitts, complete with embroidery. Of course, they're out in the car and I'll be damned if I go down to the garage at night in 10 degree weather. I'll take some pictures of them over the weekend.

The next thing will be Jerry's Aran. I've got it all charted, now I'm waiting for the yarn to come in, since I had to order the right color, which is a medium blue-gray. I did buy one skein just for swatching, though, so I may mess with that next week. I'm really looking forward to this one. In the meanwhile, I'll shoot out a pair of socks or two.

Jeremiah
Snot rockets? Jerry has dared me to write about them and our romance and ship it to eHarmony. I might but this is as good a testing ground as any. As he says, "I KNOW you're going to write about it." Well, I demurred a bit. "It's a bit personal, dontcha think, Jer?" He laughed.

I've mentioned Jerry before but I guess it's time to own up to the whole thing. It is a funny but sweet story of how we met last September.

After some absolutely boring dates over the summer from Match.com, I dumped that service and I sign up for eHarmony, which is the dating service that runs TV ads constantly. Supposedly they match you with the right person. I go through these profiles and I'm going "Feh. Blech. Yuck." If you ever want a good laugh, read some of these profiles, on whatever dating service you choose. I was always tempted to write my profile as a parody:

I love to go walking on the beach, have a candlelit dinner with a bottle of wine. I adore NASCAR and golf and I love to cuddle on the couch while we watch NFL games on Sundays. I'm honest, not a game player, clean, thrifty, and reverent. I love to dress up in heels and go out to dinner.

Yeah, that's me, alright. Sure. If I go to the beach, I'm in the water. I don't drink. I hate NASCAR, don't give a rat's ass about golf. I'll cuddle on the couch but it might lead to more and you'll have to turn off the game. However, I am honest to a fault but incredibly irreverent. So fuck you if you can't take a joke.

And then I get Jeremiah's profile. Oh, cool name, I thought. I start reading it. It's short but at the end, he writes "And my nieces think I'm a pisser."

Yes. This one I'd like to know. So Jerry and I start writing to each other. And then comes the inevitable phone call. We're on the phone for two hours. I'm laughing my ass off. He seems wonderful but...he lives almost 80 miles away, in North Arlington, NJ. Hmmm. A bit far.

We talk again. Again, a great conversation. And I'm thinking, maybe. But then, the shit came down at work and I backed off and told Jerry I was seeing another person. I was scared, to be honest. I realized that my attraction to Jerry, even over the phone, was more than I could handle then. Yeah, another person--Mr. Formula 1, for one hideous lunch date. So I blew a good guy off.

I never stopped thinking about Jerry and then, after dumping eHarmony, I tried SeniorFriendFinder in early November. I'm on it two days and all of a sudden, there's Jerry. He's favorited me. That did it. I e-mailed him and told him I was an idiot to trash him. We met a week later. And we were both done.

Snot rockets...well, just let me say that I can't really write this explicitly but suffice it to say, he threatened to blow some on my back when I smart-assed him in bed. If he wants to write more about it, he can in the Comments.

I'm still laughing about snot rockets. And yes, we love each other very much. I've been waiting for Jerry for a very long time. We're so alike, it's scary, as he says. He's as snarky as I am but a loving, kind sweetheart. We take very good care of each other. He gets me. I get him. He gets the fiber crap. And loves movies, history, current events, hates Bush. What more could a girl want? And I think he's hot.

I never thought that I would find anyone to love again. Jerry, if you're reading this (yes, he does read the blog), I love you so much. There, I said it publicly. Are ya happy? I sure am, ya old fuck. Like George Carlin said, we're old fucks. And rare and handy ones too. He'll be coming to Rhinebeck next October. Forewarned is forearmed. The two of us together are formidable.

German Eyes are Smiling.

Best Quote I Heard All Day

It's not that the Irish are cynical. It's rather that they have a wonderful lack of respect for everything and everybody.--Brendan Behan

One of my favorite Irish writers, along with Joyce and Samuel Beckett. Author of Borstal Boy, which I highly recommend.

Irish poets? Yeats in particular. "Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy." Another great quote, along with my favorite, "A terrible beauty was born." Reference to the Easter Rebellion of 1916. I do know my Irish history well.

Yes, Jerry is Irish...well, Irish-American. And he really did kiss the Blarney Stone. No shit.

I should have been Irish, given my general high spirits. But I do enjoy being the Anti-German. Sense of humor, sometimes disorganized, occasionally late.

Holiday Madness

We spent most of the holidays together, so I'm just getting back on track now. I met his wonderful sister Pat, and the altogether too smart and sweet nieces, Kelly, Kate, and Michele, on Christmas eve.

(No, Jerry, you do NOT look like a child molester in this picture.)

And then he met my family on Christmas Day. Ye Gods, what a crew.

Ian, mesmerized by his new Wii, Joe (Liz's boyfriend) playing her pink bass, her birthday present from Gram, and the Punk Princess herself.

And my favorite Christmas picture.

Jesus, Jerry, for crissakes, smile the next time someone takes our picture. The necklace I'm wearing in the picture was my Christmas present from him: a blue opal. Gorgeous. And the earrings do light up and flash obnoxiously but I restrained myself. A bit.

Then, the Sunday after Christmas, we did a wonderful road trip to DC. We walked our asses off, doing almost all of the Smithsonian museums.

I loved this sculpture. It turned slowly with the wind.

Unfortunately, we didn't make it to the White House. I did forget my old stinky sneakers anyway. However, the Capitol building was already swathed with scaffolding in preparation for the inauguration.

And finally, the holidays were over and it was back to work.

Obligatory Knitting Shit

Well, idiot child left the directions to the Debrow cardigan at Jerry's house, so I had to fish around for a quick project until I can retrieve them tomorrow night. I found a bag of Julia yarn that Kristin Nicholas gave me when I was up at the farm taking pictures for last year's article. (I do have to write K...it's been much too long.)

She gave me the yarn for socks but I decided to make the fingerless mitts from her book, Kristin Knits. This is a great quick project and I desperately despise gloves and mittens. I need to feel my fingers grip the steering wheel, as it were.

I haven't added the embroidery yet--there are two flowers with stems--but I shall, after the other mitt is finished. Julia is distributed by Nashua Handknits of Westminster Fibers and I love this yarn, have used it twice now. Check out the colors. They're all Kristin.

One of these days, I'm going to make those Fair Isle embroidered socks of hers that were in VK back in 2006. I have the issue.

Aran Go Bragh

Yeah, working on Jerry's Aran sweater design, which was part of his Christmas present, an IOU. Right now, I'm charting out the stitch patterns on Knit Visualizer. I've decided to use Dale Falk in a medium blue, to make a lighter weight sweater. This will allow me to use more complex patterns, too. I've got a very nice Celtic braided central panel in mind, which I'm about to chart.

My first sweater was an Aran. Don't ask. I was fearless at 18. Still am, I guess.

So the question of the day is: What's the difference between a braid and a plait in Aran knitting? There is a difference, albeit slight. Those of you who are Aran aficionados will know the answer to this question.

OK, it's almost time to shower my bod and watch CSI. I'm so bummed out that William Petersen is leaving the series. I've loved him since "Manhunter." He's a rare and handy actor, that one.