Life's a Stitch

Chuck used to work at the Health Department in Community Health Promotion. The staff were quite the team and despite the fact that the department was abolished years ago, they still have staff parties at least twice a year. This year the Christmas party was at our house. It wasn’t a huge department, maybe ten people. Since last year’s party two of them have died, so I was feeling a bit nostalgic and planned a toast in their memory. I’m upset with myself because I forgot to do it. It was a good party, though. I love the fact that we can fit 12 around our dining room table.

One of the guests brought along her 21 month old. She is affectionately known as the Stepford baby and lives up to the title. This child eats anything, warm or cold, smiles on command, keeps herself entertained and sleeps anywhere. I had a child, who, until she was four, would not drink anything unless it was warmed up. No Stepford babies in my house.

It feels like the holidays have officially begun with all the kids home. Mari brought her poncho home to wear for the first time! She’s had it at school all semester but pointed out that it’s tough to wear a backpack or a jacket with a poncho. I don’t know why we didn’t think about that ahead of time.

Finally, a new project; the beginnings of a quick knit drop stitch scarf made from Tartlette:

I have asked my three kids for an indication what they might want for Christmas given the late date: the youngest, age 14, male says "I had that all figured out in September and you told me it was too early and now I have forgotten everything;" The middle, age 19, female has made a detailed list including five novels, clothes and things that already belong to me as in my car and my favourite teapot; finally, the eldest, age 21, female – shoes. I have no idea who she inherited her Imelda like tendencies since I rotate between three pairs of shoes, but shoes are her biggest luxury. Eldest gets points asking me what my list is. I told her I didn’t really have one and she said "You can’t go around buying for everyone else and not have a list your self." She is being very sweet. Practically speaking, I would like a gift certificate to Urban Yarns in Vancouver or the books Knitting Into the Mystery or the Shop On Blossom Street. A very knitterly Christmas.

I’ve been thinking about this, though, and you know what I want for Christmas? An address in England. I have been working on Christmas correspondence and the addresses there are so quaint. Two of my friends have no numbers in their address, except for the postal code. They live in descriptive places: "The Oaks, Tickleberry Traffordshire, Cheesewich." If you’re reading this, Sandra, I’ve changed it slightly to assure your privacy (that’s privacy with a short "i" as in "it").

My husband grew up in a Minnesota town of 600. Everyone lived on rural routes. Now they have addresses with nine digit zip codes. Granted, the town has grown, but the need for a nine digit zip is beyond me. I don’t want a nine digit postal code in my address.

A strange Christmas list item, an address in England, but then again, I’d always wanted a boulder in my garden. Instead, I have one in my basement. They built the house around it. You have to be careful what you ask for.

On the knitting front, I have re-started my Autumn silk cardigan. I’m not posting a photo because I’m not quite as far along as the last pre-frogging picture. Not much knitting time this week!

…on the banister with care. We haven’t gotten around to building the mantle over our fireplace so the stockings line the stairway. These are the stockings I made for Chuck as an anniversary gift just after Mari was born. The items on the stocking represent something important in each person’s life at the time. When I made them I bought enough felt in case another needed to be made.

From stockings to socks: I’ve made two pairs of socks this past year, one out of Reggia and one Mountain Colors Bearfoot yarn. I was so disappointed with the Reggia socks because the ribbing stretched terribly and they behave like slouch socks. It doesn’t matter how many times I wash them. The Bearfoot, however, are wonderful to wear. The problem is that when I made the Barefoot socks it was during the summer at a time when it was too warm to wear them. I had started a second pair of Bearfoot, but was so put off by my Reggia socks, I frogged the project and am now halfway through a horseshoe pattern scarf. Now, fickle pickle that I am (my mother used to call me that any time I changed my mind about something), I’m thinking about frogging the scarf and turning the Bearfoot back into socks. It’s the process, right? Not the product.

Have you seen these? I am not a cookie eater and I’ve never liked Oreos unless frozen. These are the limited edition holiday Oreo – covered in white chocolate or chocolate mint. There is an exception to every rule. I will eat these cookies; perfect with chicken milk (see Monday). When items like these appear at our local WalMart they sell out quickly. I bought 13 boxes to get us through the holiday season. The next day I found six open boxes all over the house, where ever Bryant decided the mood struck there was a box. Even in the shopping bag I found an open box with one cookie missing.

I can relate this to knitting. Growing up, I though Red Heart yarn was called Oreo yarn. The heart on the label looked like an O to me and to this day I still think of it as Oreo Red Heart yarn.

The Christmas catalogues seem to arrive daily. LL Bean has spent an inordinate amount of money trying to get my business. I’m sure I’ve had eight catalogues in two months.

When Mari was two she liked to look through the Sears Wish Book. She would find toys she liked and say "Mawie want dat," in her uniquely gravelly toddler Mari voice. I’d say, "Someday, when you have a job, you can buy that with your own money." From then on she would look at the toys saying," Mawie buy dat dumday."

Fast forward eight years, Mari says, "When I grow up I’m not going to have a purse full of coupons like you and I’m not going to wait for sales to buy things."

Add another seven years and she and I struck an agreement. I would set an amount I was willing to spend on items of clothing, and if she wanted a brand name she would have to kick in the rest. One year I had a limit of $30 on a swimsuit (Costco’s price for a Speedo), she spent $75 on a bikini.

Now dear Mari is in college.  She hits the sales and uses coupons. Next thing you know she’ll be joining her dorm’s knit night.

I have found a pattern for my Manos Del Uruguay, it’s the scarf from Stacey’s blog (October 26th post, second one down on this link). It’s really pretty, perfect for this yarn.

Update: I have just done a swatch in the Herringbone pattern from Stacey’s. It’s really pretty, but I’m not sure I like the front and back looking so different on a scarf.

Gracee hasn’t had her usual Christmas grooming. The kids like her better as a shaggy scottie. Now if only someone would brush her. Whoa, those eyes look spooky!

How about this? Every other year we celebrate the gift buying, tree lighting Christmas and every other year we let those who believe have the holiday to celebrate the true meaning. Half the money spent and half the stress. I guess as I get older and time goes by more quickly Christmas seems to come twice as fast.

The other day I drove Marielle to the airport for her return flight to Switzerland. I felt sad that she was leaving and needed some comfort, so I drove the extra twenty  minutes to Steveston, a historic fishing village. It was a clear, sunny, unusual Pacific Northwest day. The colours were beautiful – turquoise sky with puffy yellowy peach clouds, forest green/grey mountains dusted with snow. Someday I’ll dye yarn that colour. On the dock in Steveston Gracee and I watched a Christmas concert of about a dozen talented kids and their fiddles. Santa arrived by Zodiak accompanied by two full dress Mounties and an antler bedecked Zodiac driver. I sat on the dock and ate fish sans chips (thought the coleslaw would be healthier but the copious mayo surely had more fat than fries), followed by two skeins of Manos Del Uruguay. That’s right, Steveston has a yarn shop. Smarten up chickies and enlightened males, Li doesn’t drive all the way to Steveston to see Santa. She drives to Steveton to feed her habit. I refrained from buying yarn for my fellow addicts, so I was relatively good.

On the way home I tried two different Hallmark stores in hope of finding the James Taylor Christmas CD that only they sell. No luck, I hear it was an instant sellout. Other than that it was a perfect day.

Vancouver is known for its natural beauty combined with a colourful mixture of cultures. There are many English language schools that attract young people from all over the world and there is a large market for international home stay families. We have hosted over fifty students in ten years.

Vancouver as a cultural mecca was driven home to me the other night when we sat around the dinner table for a farewell party for the Swiss Miss, Marielle (second from the left). There were ten of us, four "older" adults, six students in their 20’s, and eight countries represented at the table: Germany, Switzerland, Brazil, the US, Canada, Korea, Japan and England.

On the knitting front, I have one less UFO, not in the usual sense, because I FROGGED the Autumn Silk Cardigan. I wasn’t paying attention and grew frustrated with knitting it back. That Estelle Mystik frogs so easily! Not like the sticky mohair I’ve used in the past. Oh well.

Here in Canada legislation requires product labeling to appear in both official languages. It has reinforced my high school French vocabulary. Friday night, on the way home from work, I picked up some egg nog. What a laugh we had when we realized the literal translation for egg nog in French is “chicken milk.” Brought up all sorts of images of milking machines on a poultry dairy farm.

Here is the progress on the Autumn Silk Cardigan. Oh what a fun knit. I tend to judge lace patterns by comparing them to the Charlotte’s Web shawl. This is way easier and a very satisfying lace pattern knit over four rows, two of which are purl and the other two identical except for one stitch. Almost too easy.

That was supposed to read 100 59 Things About Me but the strike out feature doesn’t work on the title. I have aways had 40+ things on my "About" section and have never been able to come up with the hundred that others manage. It’s probably due to the fact that my weekly newspaper mini-columns are only 155 words and it requires that I get to the point fairly quickly.  I’ve added a few more, so here is my updated 59 Things About Me:

Things About Me

I am…
1) Polirican  (Polish and Puerto Rican) 
2) a mother of three, two girls ages 21 an 19 and a boy age 14
3) owned by a Scottish Terrier
4) the Executive Director of a non-profit society
5) a bad Catholic
6) allergic to nuts, papaya and tyramine
7) in a committed relationship for over 24 years
8) creative
9) a typical first born

I love…
10) the sounds of birds
11) the sparkle of gem stones
12) musical theatre
13) finding a bargain
14) knitting
15) travelling
16) red wine
17) to eat
18) unlimited North American long distance
19) peppermint foot cream
20) colour and texture
21) leaded crystal
22) smooth writing pens
23) mail
24) computers
25) swing and jive
26) big family dinners
27) long short legged dogs

What bugs me…
28) the clutter in my life
29) whiners
30) long distance driving
31) shopping for swim suits and bras
32) uncomfortable clothes and shoes
33) my lack of gardening talent
34) my habit of confusing Spanish and French
35) being cold
36) aging
37) I can’t drink more than two glasses of wine without getting a headache.

I have…
38) a Master’s degree in counselling
39) a 16 year old Grand Am
40) hosted over 50 foreign language students
41) dual nationality – Canadian and American
42) a spicy tooth instead of a sweet tooth
43) written over 250 newspaper columns on parenting and the early years
44) a collection of cast iron Scottie door stops
45) migraines and two different annoying arrythmias
46) a family that spontaneously breaks into song (a la Woody Allen’s Everyone Says I Love You).

I…
47)  drink Diet Coke at breakfast
48)  eat the salt first and then the pretzel
49) was born on the Ides of March
50)  convinced my family to go without TV since 1998; my husband has had to cope without his video valium.
51) wear socks 24 hours a day, very sexy, eh?
52) can sing almost any song ever performed on Broadway; our home is not a quiet environment.
53) grew up with the name Lilice Lesinski
54) have had mail delivered to the name "Lice" and a Latin teacher who called me Lilla-che
55) prefer a pencil to a pen
56) eat breakfast most mornings at Mac Donald’s – they have my "bacon and egg bagel, no butter, no sauce, half cheese" waiting for me
57) grew up in New York and always moved west to Michigan, Nebraska, Colorado (for two weeks) and British Columbia.
58) learned to knit in Brownies
59) am a better mom for having been a working mom

I’ve become a loose woman. I used to be a tight knitter but recently, when swatching for two different projects, I have had to come down two needle sizes.

There are some things in both my knitting life and regular life that continue to confuse me. I know if I sit down for a bit and really take the time to figure these things out my problem might be solved. The first one is gauge. I need a rhyme (like I before E or 30 days hath September) to remember if you get more or fewer stitches when you change your needle to a different size.  I was trying to figure out gauge on some Noro yarn and a woman told me that the needles sizes on the label were Japanese! Someone at work told be that there are old British and new British needle sizes as well. I have enough trouble with Canadian (metric) vs US needles sizes.

Now for the second – I moved to Canada long enough ago to have figured out things like the metric system and Celsius. I still do the conversion thing in my head – 15 degrees times two plus thirty. I remember in my first weeks here trying to figure out my gas mileage; converting miles to kilometers, gallons to litres and Cdn dollars to US dollars. I’m a walking math problem.

Last Christmas I didn’t send out cards. I have a thing about Christmas cards and letters – if I can’t do something original I don’t do it at all. It fulfills my need to be different, a hold over from childhood. So, Mari’s high school graduation pictures were never sent. This year I designed my Christmas greeting and gathered all the photos together. Today the BAD DOG, Gracee Mae, happily chomped her way through the cardboard envelope, consuming seven photos along the way.

Back to the knitting, gauge under control, this is the start to my Autumn "Silk" Cardigan in cotton/rayon.