Sarah Palin Crapalong

Best Quote I Heard All Day
As for that VP talk all the time, I'll tell you, I still can't answer that question until somebody answers for me what is it exactly that the VP does every day?--Sarah Palin

I can't help myself. I haven't had this much fun during a presidential campaign, ever. Glued to the news at night. And tonight's the big comedy show, too!

OK, I'm no PhotoShop pro--I leave that to the Punk Princess. But she does look well in Camo, dontcha think?

Open Mic Thursday

I'm thinking it's time for a Crapalong. Haven't done one of those in a long time. I rather like the idea of fugly knitting a la Palin, but I could do a lot with this. Rather than scratch my brain, though, I'll put it out for you all in this week's topic:

What kind of a political Crapalong would you like to see?

It would start this Friday, end on Election Day. I'll give the winner something. If you have ideas, be sure to be as specific as possible. I'll choose the best one on Friday and post their name and their concept. Unless I decide I like mine the best.

It's good to be a petty dictator.

Obligatory Knitting Shit

Not much, other than beating the Princess jacket to death. I've been working on that steadily, in the hopes of having it finished by Rhinebeck. I'll make it--the final front is almost done, with a sleeve and the collar to knit. And then the finishing, which is only seaming. That's no BFD.

I will put up a picture of the finished garment. I find WIP pictures somewhat boring. Same shit, different day department.

The KC's Fiber Kids Challenge

I want to thank those of you who have donated to this cause. I have given to each one, since I chose them. Thanks to Jennifer, Elizabeth, and Stefanie for their generosity! Every little bit helps, so if you haven't donated, please do. Of course, we have the entire month of October, so I know that sometimes ya gotta wait until payday. I sure do, most of the time.

Well, it's now October and I'm jonesin' for my fiber festivals. I still haven't made up my mind about going to B'more for Stitches. I find SOAR and Rhinebeck infinitely handy and certainly rare, since they come once a year, like Christmas. (I get that same rush of excitement going to these events as I did at Christmas as a kid.)

Palin Drone

Best Quote I Heard All Day
"We have the Bill of Rights. What we need is a Bill of Responsibilities."--Bill Maher

I'll leave my thoughts about this week's economic morass to Super Jeenyus, if he gets off his ass and writes something for our blog. Otherwise, I may be forced to spew.

Palinesque Open Mic Thursday
I must admit, I was amused at Joe's post comparing me and Carol to Caribou Barbie:

I know it's odd, but I've always liked strong, opinionated women who are well-spoken and a bit sarcastic. I mean really, aren't Carol and Marilyn a little like Sarah? "

Sure. Very little. I do seek out the facts before I open my mouth and proclaim my words the Gospel truth. And I would argue that Sarah ain't quite as well spoken as we two are. After all, I've had plenty of experience with public speaking. When you are a technical trainer, you're on stage in front of strangers. You'd fucking better have the answers to their questions as well. God knows Carol can hold her own, too. You don't want to get into a pissing contest with her, either. After all, she does hold a law degree from the University of Michigan, right C?

The sarcasm of this half-baked Alaskan soccer mom is grist for my mill.

I see Caribou Barbie as the worst sort of KnitDweeb ever. I really hope to God she doesn't knit. If she does, I'd sure love to see some of her stuff.

So, my skanks, use your imagination.

What would Sarah Palin knit?

It's almost as good as WWJK, dontcha think? I'm sure there are plenty of KnitDweeb-worthy projects out there that you can find or conjure up. I see her using LB Homespun, that fine, folksy ackrilic crap. You know, faux wool. Just as she's faux almost everything.

By the way, I simply can't vote for someone who consistently ends her sentences with prepositions. As in her unintelligible interview tonight with Katie Couric, where she babbled:

I see our country being able to represent those things that can be looked to … as that leadership, that light needed across the world.

Huh?


Obligatory Knitting Shit
This week, it's been work as usual--manuals, manuals, manuals. And a reasonable amount of knitting done. Three pieces to the Princess jacket finished, on the right front, with a sleeve to go. And some minor spinning activity. That's about it.

When I have a chance, possibly this weekend, I'll take some pictures of the Loden Mist Jacket, which is finished. I'm happy with the fit, although I'm a bit concerned about wearing it here and there, since it's a mite fragile.

Still biting away at Rock Sox, plus the autobiography. It seems that the ratio of writing to knitting is 10:1, or so. In many ways, it's easier to sit at the computer and write, especially if I've been doing it most of the day, anyway.

But the books are moving along. Maybe they'll be done in time for my 60th birthday, which Ellie takes great delight in reminding me that it's only a year and a half away. Fortunately, at the doctor's yesterday, he made the wonderful mistake of asking me if I had any premenapausal problems. This dialogue followed:

Me: Um, no, Dr. B.
Dr. B.: Why not?
Me: Because I'm five years into menopause.
Dr. B: Oh, I thought you were 46. Let me check your chart. Ah, 1950. My, you don't look your age at all.
Me: Thanks! It's always good to fool your doctor.

It's one thing when your friends tell you that you look great. But a doctor? That's creditable.

Close Encounters of the Weird Kind
I was down in Lambertville/New Hope last Sunday on a lunch date with a very lovely man. We had a fabulous time. As he walked me to my car later in the afternoon, someone called out my name and I turned around. There were two women and two men standing to my right. One of the women said, "Hi Marilyn! I read your blog all the time. I didn't want to bother you in the restaurant but I really wanted to say hi." Well, I was quite taken aback but truly thrilled. Hey, Susan from Roxbury, it was so nice to meet you! I always enjoy meeting readers and I can't wait for Rhinebeck. Please, hit me on the head and say hello.

I only bite assholes. Really.

Weaving?
I've been pining for my loom, which remains folded up in my bedroom. There's no likelihood that I can unfold it to warp it, either. So my fix is this: I'm going to buy a rigid heddle loom, hopefully at Rhinebeck. Any recommendations? I'm looking closely at the Kromski Harp, but would like the weavers among you to give me your opinions.

I need to do some weaving and it's driving me nuts that I can't. Super Jeenyus suggested that I put the Mighty Wolf out on the back porch, where I'd have more room. Sure, that's bright. Let the elements have their way with it. He can be rare and handy, when his mind doesn't trip over his shoelaces. Christ.

Three's a Charm?

Best Quote I Heard All Day
Writing is the only thing that, when I do it, I don't feel I should be doing something else.--Gloria Steinem

Well, often when I'm writing for work, I feel like I should be mopping the kitchen floor.

Otherwise, I don't give a rat's ass about anything else in the proverbial queue when I'm writing for me. Including the kitchen floor.

Recently I threatened to bring Super Jeenyus into the blogging world. It's a done deal now and I may have opened a major Pandora's Box. Yes, Super Jeenyus & Wabbette is up and running. I wrote the first entry yesterday and Neal was hot on my heels, after I showed him how to use Blogger.

My boy has a lot to say and frankly, I hear it every night. Now it's your turn. We are admitted news junkies. News time is sacred. No phones are answered. But it's always the Super Jeenyus and Wabbette running commentary, the flavor of which has been translated into a blog. I daresay that Neal is a fine writer, and I've been up his ass for a long time about putting his mouth on cyber paper. (Of course, he can't spell to save his life but then, he's an audio guy, so cut him some slack.)

So come on over and feel free to scourge the budding blogger. Or me. As it is here, we welcome intelligent comments and debate. He's as opinionated as I am. If not worse. But he's already beat me up about my use of profanity in print. Like he doesn't say those words, ever. Hmph. Fuck you.

Gansey Star
Jeez, you never know who you'll run into when you're shopping in E'burg. Last Saturday, I spent a few hours running around doing some shopping in preparation for my trip to Iowa. I needed #6 circs because my KnitPicks pair kept coming unscrewed on the Princess cardigan and it was driving me nuts.

One block from my apartment is Mountain Knits and Pearls, a lovely little yarn shop and the only one in the Poconos. So I stopped in to grab my needles. And who was there, teaching?

Beth Brown-Reisel. Whoa. The shop owner, Joanne, graciously invited me into the class and I finally got to meet Beth. When I designed the Nasty German's Gansey, almost six years ago, it was Beth's book that kept me on track.

One of my next planned projects is to design a Gansey-patterned shawl in Harrisville Shetland 2-ply. I want a heavier weight shawl and it had occurred to me that doing a Gansey shawl would not only be a challenge but something that would work great with jeans, my usual preferred outfit. I threw this past Beth and she thought it was a great idea. And gave me some advice, too. Which I will take, with many thanks.

So you just never know who in the knitting world might be lurking about your town on any given Saturday.

Open Mic Thursday
I do a hell of a lot of knitting when traveling, be it on plane or train. On Monday, I flew from Allentown to Chicago to Des Moines on business and the knitting was constant. Inevitably, a flight attendant will make a comment, as will fellow travelers. Nine times out of ten, the comment ends with "That's beautiful but I'd NEVER have the patience to do that."

My theory is that not having "patience" to do something often equates to fear of trying something new. Or simply not wanting to be bothered. Many years ago, when I was in junior high school, I felt that way about sewing. Once I gave it a shot because I wanted to have a greater choice in the clothes I wore, I learned to be patient and follow all the steps. Like pressing open seams, something that I found a complete bore at 14 but learned to do at 16.

There are still crafts for which I will claim I have no patience. Or interest. Specifically, needlepoint, which I have done and found uninteresting. My sister does scrapbooking. I couldn't be bothered. I don't have the "patience."

For what craft or needlework do you not have patience?

(I really don't like ending sentences with prepositions, if I can help it. So forgive the formal wording.)

I'm probably never going to do candlewicking, either.

Rhinebeck Cometh
I need this so badly. I haven't seen anyone since Franklin's 1000 Knitters photo shoot last April, when I got to see him and Carol.

So, who all of you are going? I'll do the Rhinebeck Bingo again this year. It's fun to meet readers. As Joe always says, I'm much nicer in person than he is and he's much nicer in print than I am. This is true. I wouldn't argue with my gay brother. Much. And I'm thrilled that Knitterguy Ted is coming again. That makes it all the more special. I know Mel will be there, with David. I'm aiming to be their first customer again this year.

October is Fiber Month for me. The Garden State Sheep Breeder show October 3-4, then the SOAR market the following Saturday at Pocono Manor (can't do the workshop/retreat this year, maybe next), and then Rhinebeck.

Some rare and handy events. But no Stitches. I'm very done with that. Don't even know when it is this year. And don't care.

Hippo Bird-day to You, Mater

Best Quote I Ever Heard

Be quiet, Marilyn! I'm counting!--Eleanor Meyer

Yes, I have many things for which to thank my mother. This is one of them, although Mammy never said, "Shut up, I'm counting!" She hated "shut up" when I was a kid. I wasn't quite as circumspect with my own children, however.

So today marks my mother's 85th birthday. I sent her flowers. She spent the day running around, picking up her prescriptions, going to the municipal building to pay a parking ticket, and then over to the eye doctor to pick up her new glasses.

And she's swatching for yet another lace shawl. So what's your excuse, skanks? This is probably my favorite picture of her, taken Christmas 2006 at Scrappy's, the pose that is the Essence of Ellie (which, incidentally, my sister informs me, is how she spells it--who knew?)

Happy Birthday, Ma. I love you muchly and I treasure our time together knitting and talking yarn and patterns. Thanks for teaching me the proper way to grouch and to knit, usually simultaneously. And if you think she and I are pros, you would have loved Grandma, who was the ultimate in cantankery. But loved me, her Dolly. Awhile back, I did a Curmudgeon family tree. I think it's time to republish it. The women were all cranky. And I suppose my sister will now beg to be added. (When you hit 50, Karen. That's the coming of age for all curmudgeonly women, I believe.)

Kraemer vs. Kraemer
Sorry, I couldn't resist. Last week I took a quick trip to Nazareth, PA (or Baby Jesus Town, as Super Jeenyus calls it). Kraemer Yarns has been there for more than 100 years. I'd been there before, maybe 15 years ago. But now that the Loden Mist Jacket pieces are finished and awaiting blocking this weekend, I decided that I rather liked Kathy Zimmerman's Princess Jacket and drove down Rte. 33 to check out the yarn and the jacket in person.

It was in the last P'works catalog, done in Kraemer's Summit Hill, a lush 100% merino worsted weight that is almost orgasmic to knit. The model is done in a French blue, a little darker in real life than in the picture. I'm doing it in a nice burgundy. Because the blue was just too insipid for me. (Those sleeves do look horrifically long, do they not?)

The pattern is free from Kraemer's. This link is to the .pdf. However, there is a huge caveat. The charts are hand drawn and difficult to read. I redid the large charts. No big deal using Knit Visualizer. But as I cast on for the back and started reading the directions, I immediately found four glaring errors without having knit a stitch.

This does not bode well. So I immediately marked up my copy and I will let the nice folks at Kraemer's know about these and any other screwups that I find. And give them my charts so they can replace them. This is too nice a garment to be ruined by errors. If you plan on making this, let me know and I'll be happy to send you the charts too.

In any case, they are making very nice yarns. Great colors, quality fibers, lots of different weights. For all you Pennsyltuckians in the area, it's worth a trip. Stop by and say hi to Eileen. She's a sweetheart and very helpful.

Open Mic Thursday

To recap last week's Open Mic, I'd say that Magic Loop got majorly trashed. I tried it and it's on my list, too. However, having said that, I suppose it could be of some use for circular sleeves if you leave your dps at home. I don't do that. I'm very careful to pack what knitting crap I need when I leave home, including shit I probably don't need. Plus, if you learned how to manipulate dps, chances are you're perfectly happy with them. If it ain't broke.

I also eschew double knitting. Total waste of time in my book. As I always say, try it once and know that it exists as a possibility. Then leave it alone. Your knitting life will not necessarily be enriched by torturing yourself.

Well, this week, I have Joe's latest post to thank because it got me thinking more deeply about something that's always been very apparent to me. As one of his readers, Andy's Crafts, so deftly put it, the sexualization of crafts.

I have a lot of male friends who knit and spin: Joe, Ted, Franklin, Lars, Mel, James, to name a few. (Guys, I'm not linking to your blogs because I'm really tired tonight and don't want to fuck around with URLs.) Yes, they are all gay men. However, we all became friends because we're knitters, first and foremost. How they use their other equipment don't make no never-mind to me.

The sexual typecasting that seems to surround certain crafts always astonishes me. Why is it that weaving is "OK" for straight guys and knitting is not? Is weaving more "manly"? I guess bobbin lace is out for straight guys too. Oh yeah, don't forget that Rosey Grier made needlepoint "OK" too. Sheesh.

So, I'd like you to opine about this, be you straight, gay, or an alien from Plan 9 from Outer Space.

What are your thoughts on the sexualizing of crafts?

This is a broad topic, admittedly. But an important one because it leeches into society in general. Or perhaps it's the other way around. No matter. I'd be interested in hearing thoughts from my lezzie friends too, although I don't believe this affects women, other than in their acceptance of men who knit.

I'm sure that those of you who have read Richard Rutt know that men only were allowed into the medieval knitting guilds. Knitting was a serious business, particularly when Elizabeth I started buying knitted silk stockings and helped fund the rise of the knitting loom. Once knitting became mechanized, hand knitting reverted into a domestic craft done primarily by women.

Read Joe's blog. And the comments. It's very interesting stuff.

Punk Princess Driving Miz Grammy

Update. Didn't happen. She can't drive with me because I'm not a NJ driver anymore. So she was a bit disappointed. However, Gram did buy her a shocking pink bass guitar with amp for her 16th birthday.

And Gram bought herself a guitar. Yes, I did. Because I did once play and I'm amazed at how much I do remember. After all, I did so want to be Chrissie Hynde. Truly. It's perfectly OK to rock on when you're 58. Rare and handy? Perhaps. Adolescent? Certainly. But girls just wanna have fu-un.

Vacated, Vacant, Vacuous?

Best Quote I Heard All Day
Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?--Mark Twain

Because I have five days off. That's it for this summer, other than Labor Day weekend.

So I'm makin' it short and sweet. Bulletpoints. Bite me.

Da Mags

• The new VK is out and it's one of the best in a long time. Why? Because it's loaded with Canadians. Between the Canadians and the Brits, there's a shitload of talent. (That's not to say there aren't any Americans on my list--but that list seems to be dwindling.) And here's something quite excellent that's on VK's site. A video showing a number of the garments. This is a brilliant idea and something that should be de rigeur for all of the magazines.

• The new IK should be in the hands of subscribers now. Loopy got hers and said that it was OK, a few good designs (once again, Veronik Avery, naturellement). I have seen it online and honestly, I think VK wins this one.

• Knitters'? The X-Men have truly created a cyber-morass. In the impossibly fucked-up web site they call "The Knitting Universe," that Gordian knot of links, subpages, and miscellanous dead ends, the Gallery for issue 92 is broken. What else would you expect? Clearly, someone started to set it up and then, oh whoops, forgot to put the images into the right directory. Links don't work, boneheads. Pictures ain't loading. I guess they got lost in the Universe. IT Rule of Thumb: It don't go live if it's fucked up. (Unless, of course, you work with Slovenian developers.) Would you buy a magazine whose staff can't even design a decent web site, let alone a functional one? Rhetorical question, purely.

Open Mic Thursday

Well, since I'm mentally on vacation, I had to think this one over. It seems to me that with all the nightmare crap on the news, knitting has become more and more a focal point for me. Hey, nobody's stabbed anyone recently with a #1 dp, have they? Or did I miss that on CNN? Or Faux News? (You have to love Olbermann for that one, along with "Ann Coultergeist," "The Comedian Rush Limbaugh," "Billow," and "Murdoch St. Journal." Brilliant man.)

Anyway, with knitting being more important than anything (ask any KnitDweeb), recently Loopy and I had this conversation about how many methods of casting on are truly necessary. We both agreed that we use the same four: long-tail, provisional (crocheted), cable, and knitted-on aka lace cast-on. This topic was a segue from the uselessness of POK and other tomes that offer you more crap than you'll ever need to know.

So ponder this:

What technique/method have you attempted that you found to be a total waste of time?

I can name at least two that I've mucked around with and wished I hadn't, but I'll let you go for it.

If you belong to the Knit It Because You Can School of Thought, I'm sure you won't have anything to say.

Anyway, skanks, I'm off to bed. I have gotten a bit done on the Loden Mist jacket. In fact, I'm on the final piece, the second sleeve. Then it's block 'n' sew. Should be done next week. I will say this: The directions were ghastly. And there was a glaring error in them, too. Caveat Knitter's. The pattern was marked Experienced. Yes. Experienced in figuring out shit that Knitter's fucks up. Rare and handy is an accolade they'll never get from me.

P.S. The Punk Princess just got her learner's permit and had her first driving lesson today. She reassured me that "I did REAL good, Gram. No matter what ANYONE says." I'm taking her shopping tomorrow for her belated birthday present, a starter bass guitar. She wants to drive my car. I'm going to let her do it. Because I'm her Gangsta Gram. Be afraid of very tiny blonde punk chicks behind the wheel. And a slightly anxious bottle blonde grandmother sitting next to her.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Best Quote I Heard All Day
A good groove releases adrenaline in your body. You feel uplifted, you feel centered, you feel calm, you feel powerful. You feel that energy. That's what good drumming is all about.--Mickey Hart

It's been a week of deep music immersion. Those who know me well know that music is an integral part of my life, arguably more than knitting, although I doubt I could live without either. As a former musician (violin and classical/folk guitar), there's nothing I love more than live music.

The Music Men
Right here in River City. Once a year, Bethlehem, PA, is the site of one of America's largest music festivals, Musikfest, which runs for 10 days, this year from August 1-10. I've been twice already and due to go again on Saturday with the Punk Princess in tow. You name the music, it's played. Free admission for most acts.

Cast In Bronze is a remarkable experience. A movable carillon, the only one in existence. What's a carillon? A musical instrument with a minimum of 23 cast-bronze bells. This is no sissy instrument. And Frank DellaPenna, the master carilloneur behind Cast In Bronze, is a sight to behold. I had the extreme pleasure of meeting Frank and talking to him. But Frank lets his music speak for itself. I'm hooked. Go to his web site and be gobsmacked. Although you'd be more blown away if you had the chance to hear this live.

And there's something else afoot. My new acquaintance with Frank's sound engineer, who is also a drummer. Someone who knows much more about classical music than I do. That alone makes me tremble. In a good way.

Let's put it this way--you'll be hearing more about this guy from me. Yes, I realize that many people think that Super Jeenyus and I are a "couple." Not true. Close, beloved friends and neighbors, yes. And always will be. But as much as I love my pal Super Jeenyus, there is now someone really special who has appeared on the scene. His name is Chris but you'll get to know him as Decibelcat. It's a long story as to how we met and I'll bore you with that some other time. But he and Super Jeenyus worked together way back when as sound engineers in Philly.

Small fucking world.

Open Mic Thursday
Well, one of the Wolvies, whom I will not out, came up with this week's topic. It would seem that the Wolvie in question has a white-trash family branch that occasionally drops babies sans fathers. And is torn between making the latest new arrival a baby outfit (blue baby Encore was mentioned) or palming the chore off on another friend.

Due to the fact that I made a sweater for a cousin's unplanned baby on my father's side of the family last summer, I am morally obligated due to interfamilial politics to make one for this summer's unplanned baby on my mother's side of the family.

So our Wolvie suggested this question:

Have you ever been tempted to pass off someone else's handknitting as your own?

I'll let you guess as to what the dénouement was.

Whether you pass off someone else's knitting as yours or whether your knitting is passed off as someone else's, this is no fucking win-win deal (pardon the corporate jargon). I shudder at the potential bullshit arising from either juxtaposition.

Obligatory Knitting Shit
Still working on the Kidsilk Haze jacket but with the back, a sleeve, and the left front done, I can see the light of day now. I'm half done with the other front and the final sleeve is a quickie. Then it's the finishing, probably two hours worth, and I'm done. Pictures perhaps on Sunday.

While I'm coaching my mother in the intricacies of the Spanish Lace pattern so that she can swatch for a stole whose cast-on I'll calculate based on that swatch, I'm leaning heavily back towards garments.

Heresy alert: I'm fucking sick of making shawls. Got it?

Once this KSH jacket is done, I'm going to make another jacket/cardigan for myself. I really don't want any pullovers. I want something I can wear to the office, wear with jeans, and remove, if needs be. And as I said in the last post, I love to do finishing, the knitting equivalent of being waterboarded.

Finishing nicely is a rare and handy talent. Many a well-knitted garment turned into a schmateh due to shoddy seaming and heinous neckline pickups. If you learn anything well, learn finishing. And learn to view it as another segment of the garmentmaking process. Or else you'll crash and burn, holding an unwearable rag in your smoldering hand. (Ah, the imagery.)

I Won't Grow Up

Best Quote I Heard All Day
The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. Because the brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough.--Randy Pausch

For many years, when I would persist and persist and persist to achieve one goal or another, my late husband Jimmy would say to me, "Stop BANGING your head against a brick wall."

As much as I loved and adored him, this was something that I don't think he quite understood about me.

If you have not yet heard about Randy Pausch or seen his remarkable "Last Lecture" on YouTube, shame on you. It is a remarkable legacy and one that I have found moving, funny, and wonderfully snarky. If you're lazy, I have the entire video up on Swing Time. It runs more than an hour but worth ever second.

One of the things that Randy discusses in his lecture is "Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams."

I was a dreamer as a child. My parents never set limits on what I could do, so I honestly believed that I could do anything. What were my childhood dreams?

1. I wanted to be an archaeologist specializing in Egyptology and wanted to make a discovery greater than Howard Carter's King Tut.
2. I wanted to be a great writer and poet.
3. I wanted to sing and play guitar in a rock band (Chrissie Hynde has always been my girl. We sing in the same range. Chrissie had the guts to do what I didn't.)
4. I wanted to go to London.
5. I wanted to be a clothing designer.

I was a strange kid, granted. But to this day, I still have dreams. As should we all. Did I achieve any of my childhood dreams? Well, I'm a writer. Not a great one, for sure, but a writer nonetheless. I've been to London twice. I design my own sweaters and such when I don't get lazy and use someone else's pattern. Never sang with a rock band. Archaeology is still an interest but not a career. Never got to go on a dig.

So. Here's the Open Mic Thursday question:


What were your childhood dreams and which of them did you achieve?

I find this a fascinating question, one that gives you pause to review your life. Randy Pausch truly did give new meaning to carpe diem. He led a rare and handy life. So should we all, no matter how old we are. And I will not grow up. I still have those childhood dreams.

16 on Monday? NOOOOOOO!! Yes.

Best Quote I Heard All Day
I washed a sock. Then I put it in the dryer. When I took it out, it was gone.--Steven Wright

I think that the solution to this universal problem is to buy enough sock yarn to make three socks. Well, perhaps that's just insanity rather than a solution.

Yes, the Punk Princess turns sweet 16 next Monday, the 28th. Jesus. If anything could make me feel reeeaallly old, it's that. But as Liz says, "You're NOT old, Gram." No, I suppose not. I'll always be her Gangsta Gram. As the Who said, "Hope I die before I get old."

This was Liz at 2. And here's my pal now, with one of her friends, swiped from her Facebook. She's a talented artist, a drummer (who's going to learn how to play bass), and an all-around funky kid. Blood tells, for sure.

So, Dizzy Ms. Lizzy, Happy Birthday. For the past six years, you've been making cameo appearances on my blog. So fercrissakes, start your own, will ya?

Life in General
I've been busy finishing up the Las Vegas Brights scarf and then rummaging around for something to take its place. Unfortunately, I have not had any time to spin, so I guess I won't win the Maillot Jaune this year. I got the scarf blocked out on the porch. Just yanked it out and shaped it rather than trying to pin it. That would have been sheer madness.

I was flipping through last summer's Knitter's, one of the scant decent issues, the one that had Celeste's Campanula. And found a lace jacket thingie by Nancy Marchant that appealed, Loden Mist. I discovered five balls of Dewberry Kidsilk Haze in the stash. I'll be damned if I remember why the fuck I bought them. But they work for the jacket. This piece is finished and the left front is almost done.


Sometimes you just get sick of making shawls and it's time to go back to garments. I love to do the finishing on sweaters. Yeah. Sick. But to me, it's a different process with its own rewards. I still have that Lavold pullover to finish, the one from last fall. So that's next. The Cobweb Crepe shawl is on hold. I need to stitch me some clothing together.


Open Mic Thursday

Well, I kinda missed last week but it seems as if the last topic had a life of its own. This past week, while digging in the stash for the Kidsilk Haze, I was ruminating on how much I love to work with it. A lot of people don't, simply because it's a bitch to rip out. Rowan yarns are some of my very favorites, along with the magazines and the incredible designs.

However, there are a few yarns that I will never, ever work with again. One is Wildefoote sock yarn. It split so badly that I ended up throwing the shit out. That's one.

Of course, I won't work with crap. It's the stuff that you presume isn't shit but turns out to be awful--that's what I'm talking about.

So here ya are:

What yarn will you never, ever work with again?

Yeah, caveat emptor. So make like Consumer Reports and give everyone your sob story.

Gulp. Six Years Tomorrow.
Christ, it really has been six years. I started this mess on July 25, 2002. I figured it would amuse me for about three months. It certainly took my focus away from my troubles, which at the time were legion. A dead husband, a mortgage I was barely able to pay, two adult children back home with their kids, and a job that was on its way out.

But there was always knitting. And writing. And so it shall remain, always. Knitting is the lover that never disappoints, that always gives back in kind. Whenever I feel alone, sad, and unmotivated, all I have to do is pick up them sticks and start focusing on the fabric I'm making.

The same goes for writing. As I've always said, this blog is my main self-indulgence. I write for me. Only me. If somebody reads it, great. If nobody reads it, hey, it's a legacy for my kids.

Liz and I often talk about my family history, which she seems to find fascinating. So for her and Ian, this blog and the books I'm currently writing, are reason enough to keep on keeping on. Because if nothing else, it's been a rare and occasionally handy life.

Who IS Keyser Soze?

Best Quote I Heard All Day
You never knew. That was his power. The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. And poof. Just like that, he's gone.--Verbal Kint (Kevin Spacey), "The Usual Suspects"

And poof. Just like that, I'm here. God, I love this movie. Just finished watching it on TV and I never get tired of it.

So, this will be a down and dirty entry. I've been working from home all week and amazingly, been quite busy. But it beats the shit outta going anywhere. I had this idea that I would write today's bit this afternoon but lo! A document arrives from the wilds of Slovenia, 49 deeliteful pages to be edited between today and tomorrow.

Oh well. Here I am, and it's late.

But it's still Thursday, so hang on.

Open Mic Thursday
Besides eating a bowl of butter pecan ice cream today, which I had no business shoving down my trachea, I spent a little time doing something clandestine.

Yeah, I have these guilty pleasures that no one would ever think I would do. Besides eating ice cream, which habit is quite well known to those near and dear to me. Particularly one Super Jeenyus next door, who frequently cons me into walking to the store down the block for various flavors. Such as cherry vanilla, his favorite. With Hershey's chocolate sauce. Shit, he calls ME an enabler.

So what are my true guilty pleasures? Here they are, not necessarily in order of preference:

1. Vanity Fair and People magazines
2. Playing cards and other dopey games on Pogo.com
3. A real New York egg cream (if you have to ask, then you're clearly from another country)
4. S'mores
5. Super Jeenyus (es schmecht sehr gut)

OK, dish.

What are your guilty pleasures?

They need not be of the knitting variety. You will note that I do not consider knitting a guilty pleasure.

Tour de Fleece
I'm doing it. Every day. Spinning a silk roving called Grape Harvest. Quite lovely, I'm enjoying it. I do love to spin silk. So here's the proof in the pudding, as it were, for the past few days.


July 5


July 6


July 7



July 8

I'm really surprised at how much I've managed to spin as of today. Here's a picture of the roving spread out. The red arrow marks the middle of the roving. I always divide rovings in half and mark that point with some white cotton yarn, so that I can balance out the two bobbins more or less.
I took a day off from spinning today because I wanted to get back to knitting the Cobweb Crepe shawl, now that the Las Vegas Brights scarf is finished. I'll block that next weekend and then ship it off to Susan.

So much lace to knit, so little time. I'm contemplating knitting a lace curtain for my one living room window. A pattern from one of the Kinzel books has caught my eye and I have plenty of coned 8/2 cotton lying around.

Wrist Wrought
Well, I knew this was coming and I'm not overly surprised. The carpal tunnel syndrome in my right wrist has finally gotten to the point where I may no longer ignore it. A trip last week to my wonderful orthopedist, Dr. Rubman (great name, is it not?), kinda brought me back to reality. It's looking more and more like there will be surgery in the near future. I am most definitely losing strength in my thumb and index finger, as well as having increased discomfort.

I can still knit--the way I use my needles does not involve twisting my wrist. And Dr. Rubman blames the computer and mousing, not knitting, as the cause of the CTS.

So, now what? He says the surgery isn't so bad. He doesn't knit. Or type and mouse to make his living. I will have to make a decision on the 29th, when I go back to see him. I'm wearing my brace religiously, using a topical anti-inflammatory, and nothing's working.

I figure, I'll still be able to spin and if I can't knit, I'll pull out the embroidery and do that, since I draft and hand-sew with my left hand.

Being ambidextrous is a rare and handy thing. I will not be inactive. Fuck surgery. Just gimme some good drugs and I'll keep on keepin' on.

No Red, White, and Blue Ackrilic Knitted Objects Allowed on the Premises

Best Quote I Heard All Day

July 4. Statistics show that we lose more fools on this day than in all the other days of the year put together. This proves, by the number left in stock, that one 4th of July per year is now inadequate, the country has grown so.--Mark Twain

I love fireworks. Here in PA they are legal and you can even buy them in the supermarket. I was so fucking tempted to buy a bunch and shoot 'em off tomorrow. If it doesn't rain, which it's supposed to.

Friggin' Flag Knitting
The only garment made from a flag that was truly cool was worn by The Who back in the '60s. When Carnaby St. was the fashion universe, at least to this then 17 year old.

Here's the perfect KnitDweeb patriotic project. Red, white, and blue warshcloth done in the Old Shale pattern. Nice, huh? Of course, this is done in Sugar 'n Cream, available at the Michaels, AC Moore, WalMart, Hobby Lobby, and other wonderful KnitDweeb emporia.

Or perhaps you'd prefer to crochet a lovely flag afghan? Materials: Red Heart, but of course.

Now, these American flag socks are rather funky. And made with real wool, gang. I'd almost be tempted to make these, just to be obnoxious.

And, in keeping with the true KnitDweeb spirit, all of the aforementioned patterns are FREE, FREE, FREE.

Sorry, can't do white on white. Just white on rice.

Open Mic Thursday
OK, I've given you plenty of ammo. Ya wanna knit patriotic? Then tell the world...

Which of the three patterns above would you knit?

And if you have other sources for patriotic knitted stuff, feel free to shut the fuck up, please. Three are more than enough. Unless you have found something completely absurd. In which case, I'm sure we'd all be intrigued and disgusted.

Warped Speed
After having been sent this link by my dear sister, Ms. Scrappy, I may have to restrict my knitting web surfing. Be afraid, be very afraid of this link. It's not patriotic, just completely bizarre. Knit it because you can. I double dog-dared the blogging Wolvies to knit a pair and be photographed wearing them. No takers. Clearly, I have balls and I'll have to do it.

Obligatory Knitting Shit
The Las Vegas Brights scarf is almost done. Then it's back to the Cobweb Crepe shawl.

In the meanwhile, for all of us who spin, Katherine Matthews once again is having the Tour de Fleece.



I'm in. The Tour begins on July 5th and you must use fiber from your stash, which I think is a capital idea.

This is not the sum total of my fiber stash by a long shot. Just the smaller amounts. We won't talk about the 3 pounds of Romney, the endless supply of Tintagel Farm stuff, and other large purchases.

Please ignore all the Black Bunny Fibers purchases. I can't stay away from Carol's shit.

It's going to be one of these two. And I think I've already chosen the one. Both are silk.





So as of Saturday, the Joy will be cleaned and oiled. And then used for the Tour. Hot damn. I'll be taking photos as I go along. Gotta get it spun and plyed by the 27th so I qualify for the Maillot Jaune button. This one of the few "alongs" that I find worthwhile.

Because "alongs" are not particularly rare and handy, in my opinion. They belong with memes.

Note: The 6th anniversary of The Knitting Curmudgeon is fast approaching. July 25th. If any readers have good ideas for an anniversary blog topic, I'd appreciate the suggestions. God knows I never thought the blog would last this long.

Wherein This Writer Adopts Gonzo Knitting as her Raison d'Etre

Best Quote I Heard All Day
“[Ken] Kesey practices what has come to be known as gonzo journalism. The reporter, often intoxicated, fails to get the story but delivers instead a stylishly bizarre account that mocks conventional journalism.”--R.K. Sheppard

Gonzo knitting. A stylishly bizarre garment that mocks conventional knitting? That appeals. My literary hero, Hunter S., would approve, no doubt. Now, the key word here is "stylishly," which lifts "bizarre" onto a higher plateau, dontcha think?

Gonzo knitting. Anything gonzo, anything that "mocks" the establishment, attracts me to it like flies on shit. Well, if I'm not a stylishly bizarre writer, then I think I'll hang up the electronic pen and find a used Etch-a-Sketch to fulfill my scribbling needs.

PodPerson
Step One in the podcast project has been fulfilled. My Super Jeenyus, Neal, the world's Greatest Audio Engineer EVER (a sop to his ego) is delighted to help me learn to use Audacity and to be my personal engineer. Besides, he owes me big time, since I help him a lot with basic software stuff. As he says, "I'm the nerd, you're the geek."

So, when he's finished a freelance gig that he's doing on the weekends, he'll be ready to help. As long as I shut the fuck up and behave. Which is damned difficult, since we both revel in the "Neal and Marilyn Show," a constant stream of insulting banter back and forth, but delivered with great love and affection. He busts my chops, I give it right back. Hmmm, maybe he should be my podcast sidekick. He was once a deejay, so he'd probably love that.

Open Mic Thursday
OK, so it's almost 10 p.m. Thursday night but what the fuck. I was busy training today and kinda got involved in that for 4 hours. Thank God I now do it over Webex, otherwise I would have had to go to Eighty Four, PA. Yes, that's right. Eighty Four. Google it. It's about 25 miles south of Pittsburgh.

This past weekend, I finally bought the book Victorian Lace. I don't know why I waited so long but considering my rather large collection of knitting, spinning, and weaving books, along with the stacks of magazines, I've not really bought much recently, other than Carol's book. Small apartment, living room with three bookcases, all filled. But I was looking over my library the other day, picking up books that I'd bought but not really used. Yet.

And then there were my exceeding well-worn copies of the Barbara Walker Treasuries. These are the books, after almost 30 years of building my library, that I refer to the most often. And one that I almost never use, Principles of Knitting. By far, that is my least favorite book. So here's my question to you:

Which book in your library do you use the most? And the least?

And be honest. If you don't use any of EZ's books, that is not considered heresy on this blog.

Las Vegas Brights Scarf
It's growing exponentially. Almost done, I would say. I am quite pleased with it. And love working with silk that I spun.


My PhotoShop Essentials crapped out on me tonight (corrupt file, probably), so I couldn't adjust the picture's lighting and colors. But it's pretty much true, except that the color variations and subtleties are harder to see.

I've decided to give this to my friend/boss, Susan. She has finally finished her Master's after eight months of working full time, traveling, and trying to get her school work done. Susan saw it the other week when she was in the office--she lives in Tampa and only comes up to Jersey City every few months. When I told her it was hers, she was blown away because she understands how much work has gone into it. A gift of love? Absolutely.

I keep wondering when my fixation with lace will die down. I have done virtually nothing but for two years now. And yet, my fascination keeps growing, to the point where I have been designing my own lace pattern for the Chantilly Lace socks that will be in my book Rock Soxs.

Such a simple concept. A bunch of yarn loops and corresponding decreases on either a garter or stockinette field. Yet, it confounds so many and causes great gnashing of teeth, the uttering of expletives unknown to Richard Nixon, and a pathological fear of dropping stitches.

I know. I'm one of those rare and handy lunatics who is guilty of all of the above. It will never end, either.

NASCAR Mamas and Other American Slices o' Life

Best Quote I Heard All Day
Being Lutheran, Mother believed that self-pity is a deadly sin and so is nostalgia, and she had no time for either.--Garrison Keillor

If that doesn't describe my mother to a nicety, I don't know what does. And yes, we're lapsed Lutherans. However, she was no Church Lady.

Back from Charlotte last night. The final trip, I believe. We'll see. I truly like Charlotte, despite the NASCAR crap. All I can say is, one of the NASCAR Mamas damned near ran me over with her kid's stroller trying to beat me into the line for the security checkpoint. Charlotte-Douglas Airport is bad enough to navigate without some idiot who procreated careening through the crowds using a stroller as a battering ram.

She got some choice words from me. She shot me an ugly look. I smirked. That always annoys 'em.

Did you know that NASCAR has its roots in the textile industry? I didn't know that, either. Apparently, the loom mechanics in the mills souped up cars and raced them in their spare time, along with the moonshiners. The races were then eventually formalized into the gas-guzzling "sport" we know and avoid so well.

Open Mic Thursday
I was remiss last week--missed Thursday entirely. I know I was working from home that day but I'll be damned if I remember WTF kept me from writing a blog entry.

Anyway, I was thinking that perhaps there's a very good way to conserve petroleum. So here's my tongue-in-cheek question to you:

Should Congress impose a special tax on acrylic yarn, as it is actually a petroleum product?

I am an avid recycler and very much concerned about the crap that we can't recycle. Just think--thousands of acrylic sweaters thrown away over the years are lying in landfills, never to rot but only to become stinky, stringy rags that will confound the archaeologists of the future.

Ya wanna be "eco-friendly"? (God, that's such a fucking stupid term. Irritates the piss out of me.) This is a damned good reason to eschew the plastic crap, if you haven't yet figured out a better reason. And if you read this blog, chances are very good that you don't use acrylic, right? In the spirit of environmentalism, I challenge you to boycott all acrylic yarn, once and for all. This has nothing to do with being an elitist knitter. I've always been that. And fuck 'em if they can't take a joke.

A Wedding in the Fambly
Yeah, my eldest daughter Jenn got married last Sunday in New Hope, PA, to her longtime boyfriend, Norm. It was a nice, small, intimate ceremony. Those of you who were on the Knit List years ago perhaps remember her medieval wedding to her first husband back in 1996. (Well, that did produce my boy Ian, if nothing else.) For that wedding, Jenn designed and sewed her own wedding dress, quite a work of art with very elaborate embroidery. Jenn won't knit but she is an amazing seamstress and embroiderer. She takes after her Mamoo in her love of color and making something out of nothing.

Anyway, it's getting to be my bedtime. Tomorrow is Friday and I must prepare emotionally and physically (need a hair cut and a fresh dye job) for my 40th high school reunion on Saturday. I'm looking forward to seeing some old friends, especially Dottie, my oldest and dearest friend from childhood. There will be much laughter, much talking, and probably a few tears, too, for those no longer with us. Montclair High School Class of 1968 contained a few rare and handy people. Hopefully they'll show.

Open Mic Thursday is Back...Like a Bad Rash

Best Quote I Heard All Day
If you're going to be crazy, you have to get paid for it or else you're going to be locked up.--Hunter S. Thompson

I miss Uncle Duke. I wonder what his take would have been on the politics of today. Through a glass darkly, no doubt, with a hit of mescaline as a chaser.

Yesterday was a remarkable day, was it not? I stayed up past my bedtime to watch all three speeches, McBush, Hillary, and Obama. And it occurred to me that I have had the great fortune in my life to have been profoundly moved and influenced by three incredible, charismatic political figures--John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, and Barack Obama.

Not since Robert Kennedy have I felt such hope that reparations can be made, that we can become what we once were. A can-do nation. Not a morass of deluded and spoiled individuals concerned about what they're entitled to have.

If McBush wins this election, it has been discussed at the Washington Street abode that we'll move the Neal and Marilyn Show to Canada. We aren't kidding, either. (And yes, Neal gets first billing. Why? Because he's a Super Genius. So he says.)

Arkansas Traveler
Yepper, as we say here in NEPA, I was down in Klinton Kountry last week for three days. Stayed in Little Rock, drove 70 miles out to a town called Russellville to train a new client. And hot damn, had a Mustang for a rental. Yeah, baby.

On the way back, I made a quick stop at the Clinton Library. I must say, I was extremely underwhelmed by this edifice. Not bad for a cellphone pic, though.

And I didn't feel much like paying admission. But the Arkansas River was very pretty. I did walk around the grounds a bit.


Las Vegas Brights
Knitting on the plane seems to be where I get the most work done. With the Cobweb Crepe shawl now too big to stash in my backpack, I decided that knitting up the Las Vegas Brights silk that I spun back in March would be much more packable, quick to remove prior to stashing the backpack in the overhead compartment.


Choosing a pattern was easy. Ever since I bought Sharon Miller's Heirloom Lace, I've wanted to use the Old Spanish Lace Border in something. This is the something.

Yes, it's certainly bright, although I took this picture out on the porch at 9:30 tonight, so the flash rather garished it up. This is simply a detail shot. The entire piece is 89 stitches wide, perfect for a largish scarf. Or perhaps a very funky curtain.

I figure, if three flight attendants and Neal all thought it was beautiful, then perhaps they know more than I do. As far as I'm concerned, the jury is out on the colorations until the whole 800 yards has been knitted up.


Open Mic Thursday
Well, now that I seem to have slowed down with the travel, other than another trip to Charlotte the week after next, it's back to business as usual.

I've not been on Ravelry in months. It's the time factor, frankly. I don't use it for cataloging my junk. First, because I honestly don't want to know what I have, other than my books, which are up on LibraryThing.com. Knowing exactly what I have stashwise would probably make me feel severely wretched. Second, I haven't had the time to read any of the forums to which I belong.

That said, what I'd like to know is:

Are you still using Ravelry? If not, why not?

I continue to see the value in Ravelry, although probably not for me. One friend, who shall go nameless, says that it can be an enormous time waster. Another friend is convinced that it has become KnitDweeb Heaven. Well, that was rather easy to predict. It is what it is, and you can use it as you wish.

So gang, it's time to switch over to SwingTime, where I'll be writing about childhood bipolar disorder. An interesting subject, one that was recently covered in Newsweek.

A diet of airplane pretzels is enough to make one gag. I counted 13.5 mini pretzels in the last bag I ate. Yes, I did count them. Why the fuck not? If I never see another airport again, it will be just swell. Flying is most certainly not rare and handy. Especially when you spend nine hours in the Charlotte/Douglas airport.

Snippy? Me? You Bet Your Sweet Ass.

Best Quote I Heard All Day
The advocates for either side are under enormous pressure, and, of course, they're being pretty snippy with each other from time to time.--Bill Clinton

So yes, I'm following all the snippiness going on in the political cesspool. Even though I generally don't use the blog for my political views, I gotta say just this to all the candidates:

Shut the fuck up if you have nothing worthwhile to say. And I haven't heard anything that qualifies, so far.

Can you imagine politically incorrect me running for office? Ye gods and little fishes. I'd give 'em good sound bites. And probably some substance.

The Long Way Home
It's been brutal, these past couple of weeks, but then, I knew it would be. Six hours a day to commute, get home at 8, get fed by Neal (he usually is home before me), and then it's el crasho grande and back up at 4:30, coffee chez Neal at 5, and we're both out the door at 6 a.m.

The train is for sleeping and knitting Neal his heavy-weight Jarbo socks. I have to say, I'm settling in now and I'm about to attempt something more pithy than stoopid socks. But I highly recommend the Jarbo. Loopy has used it for awhile and she got me hooked on the stuff. Neal is about to wear his first pair out, I swear. So now I have another pair almost done for him so he can put one set in the wash. Before they walk out the door.

This weekend will be another whirlwind. But with Mammy in the hospital this week for an overnight scare (she has diverticulitis but no pain and will be OK), I haven't had one minute to write the blog.

So fucking bite me. But I am truly snippy from lack of sleep, not lack of meds. That's what Neal calls me, when I'm crabby. You say snippy, I say crabby. Same diff.

Open Mic Thursday
Yeah, I finally found a topic that I think deserves your consideration. Actually, it's a product that I think is completely useless. So that's my opinion. But here we go:

What do you think of audio knitting books?

I know lots of people love those books on tape or whatever the fuck they're called. Moi, I prefer paper in hand and not some overpaid actor talking prose to me. If I have earphones on, it's strictly for music.

For the life of me, I cannot see the value of having Ann Feitelson's The Art of Fair Isle on any audio media. Gimme the book. Paper. No steenkin' e-book, either.

I realize it's late Thursday night, but it still counts. So go rip me a new asshole. I'm in that kind of mood. But you do know I lerves you all. And I will be writing more, now that I'm firmly ensconced in E'burg.

The New VK
While Mammy was in the hospital, I stopped by Stix-n-Stitches, my favorite yarn shop in NJ, and hung out with Sheila for a bit. She had the new VK. I was completely underwhelmed, as I am usually with Vague these years. However, Brandon Mably had a wonderful dress therein and if I were thin and under 30, I'd make it in a hot NY minute. There were a couple of OK things, and some seemingly good articles but I didn't read them all. I suspect that IK has done them previously, and frankly, better.

Sheila showed me some new sock yarn by Berroco, Comfort, completely acrylic but amazingly nice. And she had a few other Berroco yarns that were also half decent. I think that Norah Gaughan has made her mark on Berroco and hopefully the company will cease and desist producing hideous designs made with wretched yarn. So let's keep an eye on Berroco. And Classic Elite, too. I'm starting to see better ads and I know that's Pam Allen's influence.

So. It's off to bed with me. Cleo is happier than a pig in shit, these days. She has peace and quiet, no other cats to disturb her, and as she always says, "Hai, Mar. Wur u bin? Nidding? Werkin? Wat?" I depend on her Imperial Rare and Handiness to keep me on the straight and narrow.

Kiss My German Ass

Best Quote I Heard All Day
Whenever the literary German dives into a sentence, that is the last you are going to see of him until he emerges on the other side of his Atlantic with his verb in his mouth--Mark Twain

Ich bin eine Amerikanische Schlampe.

A dollah-three-eighty for anyone who can successfully translate that phrase. (All Germans must recuse themselves.) I thought it apropos to begin the first entry of the new year with a language quiz.

Open Mic Thursday
Well, of course, Neal and I both forgot what the fuck his topic was. However, knowing him as well as I do, I can think of a topic that would titillate. (Isn't that a wonderful word?)

So here's something to weigh in on:

What's your opinion on wearing skanky lingerie in the bedroom? Do ya do it? Would you admit it publicly? And how many of you have shown your partner Joan M-M's knitted lingerie (and bought the kit)?

I'll leave it to you to guess where I stand on this topic. I'm sure you know.

More Moving Angst
Still not done. This is the agony that does not seem to be followed by any ecstasy. I moved Cleo today. She rode the 43 miles in great dignity, crammed into the cat carrier. Almost no whining, as long as I drove with one hand and stuck a finger through the grille to comfort her.

She is now ensconced in E'burg, with her food, her litter, and me. She made herself quite to home.

This is a short entry for today. I need some coffee, along with a nap. However, with my bookcases available, I need to put away books. Why the fuck did I ever buy so many books? Rhetorical question, of course. This rare and handy life cannot exist without the prerequisite tomes right at hand. More on Sunday. If I survive the furniture move on Saturday.

Legacy with Legs

Best Quote I Heard All Day
Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks--William Shakespeare

Tomorrow I will cook the last Thanksgiving dinner in my long career of providing holiday meals. I'm a bit wistful and yet a bit glad that next year, I can go off to my sister's or wherever and chow down.

In any case, I'm sure thankful that I have four days off, in which I will move stuff, go listen to some great live music on Saturday night in Bethlehem, PA, perhaps get a tad of knitting and spinning done, and in general take it a little easier.

Feeling good, gang. That's the word up. My thanks tomorrow go to my dear friends who have been there for me the past few weeks. You know who you are. And you know how much I love you. And Swing Time is back in full force.

Gone and Never Forgotten
Reading the NY Times online the other day, in between doing training and writing, I saw that Mary Walker Phillips had died. To quote the Times's obituary:

What Miss Phillips did, starting in the early 1960s, was to liberate knitting from the yoke of the sweater. Where traditional knitters were classical artists, faithfully reproducing a score, Miss Phillips knit jazz. In her hands, knitting became a free-form, improvisational art, with no rules, no patterns and no utilitarian end in sight.

Phillips's Creative Knitting was one of the first knitting books I ever owned. And although I do not treat my knitting as art, in many ways, she was a greater influence on me than Elizabeth Zimmermann, to whom I came rather late in my knitting studies, around 1982.

Through Phillips's work, I understood the freedom in my fingers, far more than I did by reading Zimmermann. Her other knitting book, Knitting Counterpanes, is a wonderful resource. I'm sorry that she was not more prolific in her writing.

Back when I worked in NYC and went regularly to the Strand bookstore to cull it for knitting books, I remember asking a clerk why there seemed to be a lack of them. I found out that Mary Walker Phillips lived on Horatio St. and was in the Strand all the time buying up all the knitting books. I couldn't beat her out on the books, damn it. But I was really blown away that she went to the Strand too.

Another great knitter gone, leaving a wonderful legacy.


Last Saturday
I thought I would have time to write about my get-together with Joe and James on Sunday but I ended up feeling unmotivated to write. Probably the medication but nonetheless, I just couldn't seem to sit down at the computer.

Joe did a fine job chronicling our day, though. And I will put up pictures of James's gifts to me. Including the possum fur giftie. They are quite extraordinary. As is James. What a sweetheart he is! And such fun to be with. We had a wonderful time and I wish he lived closer. And I do wish Mary-Helen had been with us as well. Don't worry, M-H. He had nothing but nice things to say about you.

I love my Aussie and Kiwi knitting friends. Someday, I'd like to get down there and inflict myself on them.

Open Mic Thursday
Yeah, I know it's Thanksgiving, and I hope to hell you're enjoying the day and not reading my blog. However, if you are, thanks.

The topic from last week certainly brought out some strong opinions, with which I did not disagree. The photography was disappointing, at best. The garments, while not ugly, didn't excite me. And I am at least happy to see shaping returning to where it should be.

I don't care one way or the other about the layout. I'm only interested in clear pictures of the designs. Where those pictures live doesn't make me no never mind.

Over the course of the past few years, due primarily to the mediocrity of the knitting magazines, I have tended to either turn to books or my own creativity for my projects. I would rather invest in a knitting book by a favored designer, which may yield a number of projects, than depend on magazines to pique my interest.

So, tell me.

From what source do you get your knitting projects? Magazines, books, or your idea-jammed brain?

Celeste's Campanula is the only magazine-published design that I've done in quite some time.

I Promise
There will be more pictures and stuff this long weekend, probably Sunday night. I got a copy of Kristin's book in the mail and it's hot. Plus I've finally finished that last sleeve to Lavold's Estrid from Book #9, so I'll be doing some finishing this weekend, time permitting. I always think I'm going to get more done than I do, but I swear there will be some time set aside just for that. Because for me, finishing something is rare and handy.

Happy Thanksgiving, ya turkeys. Eat heavy.

Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robot

Best Quote I Heard All Day
Speak when you're angry, and you'll make the best speech you'll ever regret--Dr. Laurence J. Peter

Boy, I do love a good knockdown, drag-out fight, especially if I'm an innocent bystander. We had a doozy at work yesterday. The CFO and VP of Sales, both of whom should have behaved themselves, screaming at each other over an expense report. Stupid.

I thought about offering them some pharmaceuticals. And then thought better of it. I am peaceable. Usually.

Open Mic Thursday
Not much time tonight to write. I'm in the middle of writing a pile of stuff at work, plus another article for IK, on Ravelry this time. I'm glad you all enjoyed my stuff. I probably had a better time writing the articles than you did reading them.

This past week, there's been a lot of perhaps not-so-trash talk about this issue of Interweave Knits. The new layout and the photography, to be precise.

So I ask you to lay your thoughts out on the table.

What did you think of the Winter issue of Interweave Knits?

Leave my articles out of it. I appreciate your thoughts but I'd be interested in hearing what you have to say about the rest of the issue.

Obligatory Knitting Shit
Still working on that damned sleeve. Finagle's Law of Dynamic Negatives says this: The last sleeve is always endless.

This is a truism. I'm managing to knit a little on the train but seem to fall asleep with needles in hand. This morning, a nice woman had to shake me when we got to Hoboken.

Which is why this is a short entry. Sunday I'll have lots to write about, since Joe and I are taking the Kiwi Terrifico of Fibre Alive fame, James, around to local yarn shops on Saturday. Lots of pictures and maybe even some of my work, although a slowly growing sleeve is a stone bore. I'm really looking forward to meeting James. Joe I already know all too well, my gay brother.

I gotta get to bed earlier, so that's it for tonight. But there's a rare and handy four-day weekend coming up. Moving will take first place. And extra sleep.

Best Quote I Heard All Day
I have found out there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.--Mark Twain

Other than to Texas, when I went with my dear friend and bosswoman Susan, I tend to travel alone for work.

Like yesterday, to Wilkes-Barre. Now, would you ask anyone to accompany you there? I sure wouldn't. Although the ride up and down the hills was beautiful, with the trees finally turning colors. And then there was the lovely place in East Stroudsburg, where I stayed Monday and Tuesday nights. Ah, the spaghetti sauce was exquisite. (And there's a very nice yarn shop a block away, Mountain Knits and Pearls.)

Next week, I'm off to Hyattsville, MD, for two days. The following week, Danbury, CT. November 13-16 down to Wilmington, North Cackalacky, as the late husband called it. Second week of December finds me in Tampa for a sales training conference. All fucking week.

But this Saturday, it's Rhinebeck. The most important trip of them all, bar none. I will be there at 9 a.m. sharp. I'm looking forward to meeting those of you who are going. Don't hesitate to grab me. I'll be with JoeWi, as he's calling himself these days, along with Carol, Ted, and a few others. But it's people I really want to see, even more than all the fibroid extravagances.

Oh yeah, and once again I'm a Square for those of you playing Rhinebeck Bingo. I still have last year's button, so what the fuck.

Big Muthafucka Needles
OK, will someone tell me why you'd want to knit a scraf in an hour? No, I didn't misspell that. Anything rectangular that poses as a scarf and is knit on these needles is a scraf in my book.

These needles are too big for even Wenlan Chia.

Please. Size 50 is what they are. Nothing new. But Lion Brand calls 'em Speed Stix, somewhat reminiscent of the deodorant. Stix 'em up yer ass.

I want knitting needles that double as vibrators. And light up. The Wolvies will know whence I speak. Now those, I'd buy.

Open Mic Thursday
Somebody, whose name I'm too lazy to look up, wanted to know last week why the Open Mic Thursday appeared prior to midnight, even though the post was marked as 12:01 a.m. Well, because I ain't staying up that late so I cheat every week. Bite me.

This week, I'm in a mood political. I know, generally Joe does that deal; however, I'm highly political and of course, highly opinionated. Neal and I often discuss politics--we're both news and politics junkies--and he's of the opinion that the time is ripe for an independent party/candidate to make an appearance. Here's the topic for Thursday:

Would you vote for an independent, such as Al Gore or Colin Powell, for example, rather than the party choices?

I agree with Neal, completely. It may be the right time for an independent. I am completely dismayed with both parties. As he says, the Democrats are just Republicans in cheap suits. You have to wonder why the fuck the Dems have squandered the opportunity presented to them last November to set some shit right.

Obligatory Knitting Shit
Nothing. Absolutely nothing worth discussing. Just socks. I'm fried so that's what I can do on the train. This is bad, very bad. However, when I catch a breath, I will go back to the several projects that are yet unfinished: The Magenta Diamonds shawl, which needs only the top edging, Jenn's Campanula, and my Lavold that is missing a sleeve. Plus, I misplaced and then found the battery charger for my camera, hence no pictures, even of stoopid socks. But plenty of Rhinebeck pictures will be forthcoming.

Groupies
I have noticed that the KnitDweebs are busy creating dee-liteful groups in the Ravelry forums. Scary. In case you're interested, there is not yet a warshcloth group. So if you're a Sugar 'n' Cream devotee, hurry up and start one. You'll be flooded with members, no doubt.

However, there are plenty of intelligent groups available and I've joined a few. Spin Tech, Historic Knitting, and of course, Jersey Represent, which has a brilliantly written intro to the group that I recommend all Jersey wannabes to read. As they say,

cuz life's too short to be pumping your own gas (especially when there is knitting to be done!)

I only learned to pump my own gas when I became a solo act and had to travel out of state on my own. Now I'm a pro and I wish we could pump our own gas. But it's against the law in NJ. And I believe Oregon also.

So, with that, I will pump my own gas, catch some sleep now, and see you all on the rarest and handiest day of the year. Rhinebeck cometh.

Best Quote I Heard All Day
Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen six, result happiness.
Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pound ought and six, result misery.--Charles Dickens

It's all about money, this entry.

Micawber, that charming ne'er-do-well, memorably portrayed by W.C. Fields in the original 1935 movie version of David Copperfield, could well be my favorite Dickens character.

The Micawber Principle. One that we all try to live by, I suppose. Hence the following topic.

The World's Most Ridiculously Over-Priced Knitting Kit
Yeah, I found it. And it's not some chi-chi designer sweater kit, either.

It's the Let's Dish dishcloth kit, which I discovered while wolfing down my dinner tonight. In the latest Patternworks catalog. One needs reading material while eating, at least I do.

Here's what you get for $24.00 plus shipping:

• Sufficient linen yarn to make one 9"x9" cloth, in either grape or red, crocheted in a simple circle OR (drumroll) knitted in an Old Shale stitch. Instructions included.


• One bar of "organic" soap

Gang. What's wrong with this price? First of all, you can buy a skein of 270-yard Euroflax Linen for $20 in a variety of colors, not a mere two. I would hazard a guess and say that you'd get three of these dishcloths from one skein.

"Organic" soap? Shit, my supermarket sells that kind of stuff for a couple of bucks. Cheap scented soap, anyway. Maybe not "organic," but who the fuck will know?

The stitch patterns? Available EVERYWHERE. For free. Somewhere, in one of your knitting books, you can find Old Shale, Feather and Fan, or the many variations on that shell pattern. Look in any of the free pattern collections on the internet and you'll find one of them. Google is your friend, after all.

Rip-off alert. I need say more?

If I ever am reduced to giving handknit dishcloths as "housewarming or bridal shower gifts" (quotes are from the catalog), I beg Joe to come to my house with an Uzi and put us all out of my misery.

Open Mic Thursday
Well, you knew it was coming. I've made my stand on this topic. Now it's your turn. So, sharpen your Crayolas and tawk amongst yourselves, as I would say. (Yep, I do say "cawfee" and "tawk")

Our new Open Mic Thursday avatar. I'm a little verklempt now.

You design your own garments/accessories, you write about knitting, you could teach a knitting technique to others. You are offered the opportunity to have your work published or the chance to teach in the knitting spotlight. However, you are offered only the opportunity, without financial reimbursement, with the rationale being that you are getting "exposure."

Do you accept those terms? If not, does it matter how much you are paid? A token sum or market value?

Go for it, kids.

Fire Sale
Sadly, I have come to the conclusion that I must sell my loom, for reasons that I really can't go into at the moment. Yeah, something's brewing. When and if it happens, you know I'll write about it.

So, if you live within driving distance of Wharton, NJ and want to buy the following for $2500, email me and we'll talk. I'm giving my readers first refusal, and then the Ravelry hoodlums.

Here's the package:

• Schacht 8-shaft Mighty Wolf floor loom
• Loom bench with one side pocket
• Schacht warping board
• Raddle
• Stroller wheels
• 10- and 12-dent reeds
• Two boat shuttles
• Swedish bobbin winder
• All of my weaving books--I have to make a list but I have a few
• All of my Handwoven magazines (probably 10 or so)
• Two boxes of coned yarn, mostly pearl cotton, some shetland
• A Halcyon gamp kit

The loom is completely heddled, so you wouldn't have to assemble it. It folds up to about 18", even with work on it. And I've barely used it, so it's in primo condition. The price is firm. Non-negotiable. So whoever makes the first firm offer wins.

Give We Must
I just want to give Ravelry another plug. As much as I am not a bandwagon kinda person, this is a remarkable achievement by Casey the Code Monkey and Jess. If you haven't yet gotten onto the beta site, they're letting more and more people in. But they are doing this gratis, everyone. Until they start getting some advertising up there, they depend on the kindness of strangers. We who use the site for free.

So, if you are a Ravelry beta user, how about going to the Donations page and droppin' a dime on these two. I will do so on Friday, when I get paid. Because being an IT person, I know what kind of work goes into an endeavor like this. Frankly, it runs better than some of the software for which I've written manuals. A great deal of planning, thought, and coding has gone into it. Let's give them our support. Put yer money where yer mouth is, in other words.

Calendar Girl
Well, it would seem that in general, most of us think it's a waste of paper. I will say, though, that I was incorrect in saying that the calendar is comprised of stitch patterns. It is not. It contains actual garments, scarves, dolls, hats, and other ephemera, both knitted and crocheted.

Somehow, that almost makes the whole Ripley's Believe It Or Not solicitation worse. As I said in the comments, I don't believe she was being at all malicious. Just clueless. And because I don't suffer fools gladly, I did what I did. I've hopefully educated her now.

My nonknitting friends, with the exception of my goofy sister, the self-proclaimed Scrap Curmudgeon, who persists in giving me knitted fuglies, never would even think of buying me that calendar as a gift. I must agree with Michelene's POV. Gimme a gift certificate. Or maybe some earrings. I'll pass on the Glenlivet, though, since I don't drink these days.

Perhaps my nonknitting friends know me all too well. I will say that they are just as rare and handy as my knitting friends, absolutely.

Best Quote I Heard All Day
If I owned Texas and Hell, I would rent out Texas and live in Hell.--Philip Henry Sheridan

Indeed. Sorry, my Texan readers, but Little Phil's quote still holds true. (Extra credit to those readers who know who he was.) I must say, though, that the people who I have met here have all been terrific. OK, I know. It's HIS home state. Well, I won't cast aspersions on the fine citizens of North Texas. He ain't from here, anyway.

Scene leaving DFW airport with Susan, getting on 35E. Does this look any different than westbound rush hour traffic on I80 in Jersey? Nah. And what was worse--it was about 1 in the afternoon.

I understand that San Antonio is very nice. However, I like hills. No hills here, other than Flower Mound, or so I hear. Great name for a town, no?

And the fucking killer crickets. Worse than the damned Canada goose shit that coats NJ parking lots. These crickets will eat your toddler for lunch. And they're all over the place.

With only the cellphone camera, the pictures are a bit limited, I fear.

Howsome-ever, the room was upgraded to a suite, with a HD TV in the sitting room. So I'm not too cranked out. It's been fairly grueling, with Susan and I team-training user groups. But we finished by 3:30 today and took off for the hotel pool and Jacuzzi. Plus, we had a hugely expensive dinner last night courtesy of our VP of Sales at a place called Pappas Bros. Steakhouse, a Houston-based chain, that makes Ruth's Chris look like Sizzler's.

So I ain't bitchin'. Except I'll be glad to return to Sopranosland Friday afternoon.

Clothes or Yarn?
I would say my luggage was balanced appropriately. Enough clothes and plenty of yarn. Plus, I packed my Comet spindle and actually have done a little spinning in the evening. Ted would be proud of me.

And I've been working on the Squeeze Socks. If the stitch pattern looks familiar, it's because I've used it before with fingering-weight sock yarn. This time, it's worsted weight. Cascade 220, to be exact. In a man's size 12. So the rib is compressed, making the sock look weird. I do have a live model lined up, though. I liked the socks Joe made, so I decided to swipe the cuff-heel-toe second color deal.

And I packed about 4 different sock yarns because I expect to have the Squeeze Socks done by tomorrow. Yeah, I knit in the lobby before meeting Susan for breakfast. And of course, it was nothing but knitting on the plane.

Did you know that you can take knitting needles onto planes? WOW. Who knew? Loopy suggested that I send many posts to the KL, asking if it were OK. I decided to take my chances. And knit half the leg and the heel during the three-hour flight here. Oh yeah, and we took off on time and landed a half hour early. Go figure.

Open Mic Thursday
So having loaded the suitcase with yarn selections, I have no terror of running short of something to knit. And it is a true fear. I often refer to my knitting as my Linus blankie because it's my comfort, especially away from home.

But yarn shops away? Here's your topic for this week:

When you travel, do you compile an itinerary of yarn shops? Or do you pack your luggage with projects and eschew fiber shopping?

After asking about knitting on planes, the single most annoying question on any large knitting list is the "Any Yarn Shops in Curacao?" type of query. Of course, I suppose that's arguable. There may in fact be far more irritating questions asked by the professional maroons who infest these lists.

The New and Improved Spin-Off
I have to say, the latest issue is excellent. The redesign is actually much more successful than the recent redesign of IK, in my opinion. The beauty of this redo is that the magazine retains its unique personality while getting an infusion of modernity. Not easy to accomplish. The articles have improved greatly over the past few issues. I recommend the ones on using mini-combs, working with camel down, dyeing a silk hankie.

However, the greatest improvement is in the book reviews. Finally, real reviews. The good, the bad, and the ugly as opposed to flat reportage. Whether this will apply when Spin-Off reviewers write about Interweave Press books remains to be seen. That will be the proof of the pudding.

So I will be back over the weekend. And as usual, I am post-dating this so I can get some sleep. I may post on Sunday, if I'm not otherwise occupied by a rare and handy friend.

Best Quote I Heard All Day
When your hobbies get in the way of your work - that's OK; but when your hobbies get in the way of themselves... well. --Steve Martin

I think mine has long since gotten in its own way. So I'm thinking perhaps it's time to simplify.

Does that mean I will buy nothing at Stitches and Rhinebeck? Like the presidential candidates, I ain't promising shit. Will someone please tell me why lately Hillary insists on laughing at anyone who challenges her? I find that most annoying. But then, I'm no FOH.

Open Mic Thursday
Now, when your hobby gets in the way of life's necessities, then you've got a problem, methinks. So, in deference to one of my beloved Wolvies (and because I'm fucking brain dead, as usual these days), I am offering up her topic for this week's Open Mic Thursday, in her own inimitable words. I wouldn't be so presumptuous to paraphrase her. Of course, if she wants to own up to this one, she can so do in the comments. But you'll probably guess who it is, anyway.

Would you rather have sex or knit?

(Maybe it'll bring Susan Maurer out of the woodwork to tell us about God's plan for our sexuality.)

I rather doubt that dear Susan reads this blog. However, if she does, please take your comments and post them on Joe's blog. He loves it when you infiltrate his comments and cause all of us to spit up small amounts of vomit. A self-proclaimed hits 'ho, he finds it satisfying to view his stats after a Maurer polemic.

Yee Haw or Some Shit Like That
Dallas looms on Monday. I'll be posting over the weekend, and most certainly from Denton next Thursday, since the laptop is always with me, as the camera will be too.

I asked Liz if she wanted me to bring her back something from Dallas. "Yeah," she sez. "I wanna cowboy hat." Cripes. Perhaps one in black with pink accents? Do they make punk cowboy hats? No doubt. I'll do my best.

The War
I don't know if any of you have been watching Ken Burns's documentary but I've been glued to the TV while knitting the Squeeze Socks (pics on the weekend). I've even forgone watching the Yanks, it's been so engrossing.

I was born a scant five years after the war's end and I still remember my mother talking about rationing, seeing my dad in his Army uniform when he went to Ft. Drum for reserve training. Because my father was German, I was frequently called a "Nazi" by kids in school, even though my dad and his family fled from Germany in 1939 because my grandfather was a Jew and my grandmother a Gentile.

Dad learned English from comic books, or so he told me. He was 16 when they came over and was immediately shipped to Oakwood Friends School, a private school in Poughkeepsie run by the Quakers. One of his pals was the actor Lee Marvin, who had been thrown out of many private schools and was incorrigible. He and Dad made moonshine and got caught. Lee was booted out. Dad got suspended.

However, the Quaker teachings did make an imprint. He wanted to be a medic in the Army but because he was a German national, they decided to put him into Intelligence, where he spent the war behind the lines, interrogating captured German Army and SS officers, and the like. He once told me that he would have become a Quaker because he believed in their principles, except that he understood that war sometimes was a necessary evil. As it was in WWII, well he knew. So he did his bit.

I think he would have enjoyed this documentary. As necessary as WWII was, the war in Iraq is its precise, reckless opposite. Dad and the men of his generation understood what truly constituted an Axis of Evil. They were a rare and handy breed. We will not see their likes again in our lifetime.