Life's a Stitch

I'm having one of those moments. After a night of fever and chills, and making the always difficult decision to call in sick to work (it really torments me to do that) I envisioned a day in bed with chicken noodle soup and knitting. That blasted knitting. I am on the second to last square of my mitred 64 square baby blanket, and damned if I can't pick up the stitches without leaving a hole in the corner. Four times. I might need to heed the warning on this Honduran airport sign, and forget the "kinitting" needles:

Maybe it's time again to step away from the knitting and break out the crochet hook to tackle the likes of Babette. For today anyway.

UPDATE: I couldn't stay away for too long. Did you know that Alan Dart is selling many of his patterns by download for under $5. Oh, at 8cms tall, I must knit these guys' little brother:

In my college years, flying between New York and Michigan, I remember airport vending machines that sold life insurance for the duration of your flight, in case of crash. How comforting is that? I know this is reflective of my age but it does comfort me that I still have a memory.

Do you remember outdoor cigarette machines? The life insurance should have been sold next to those. And Chiclet machines in the NY Subway. They came in little tiny cardboard boxes, that held two, like the Halloween sized ones. I think I just learned something new, at least I don't remember that the name Chiclets was derived from the name for the substance from which which gum was originally made.

When are they going to come up with a Koigu or Addi vending machine?

I've promised vacation knitting. This is the progress I've made on my Rosebud Scarf, with the Franklin yarn I won on Erika's blog, Knitting @ Pantheon Acres. Upon completion, you drop the stitches between the buds a la Clapotis. Scroll down to her August 13th post for pictures of her finished product.

This could be a post about the antics of certain all inclusive resort attendees who took advantage of the unlimited Nicaraguan rum, Honduran moonshine, beer and vino tinto. But since I didn't partake to the extent that warrants a blog post I'll move on to the the creatures of Honduras. Below are a jelly fish, a hermit crab, booby birds and pelicans.

The more exotic turkey vultures and howler monkeys:

Mari brought home her own Honduran creatures who hitched a ride to Canada in her intestinal tract. Poor girl, when asked what she wanted to eat today, replied "pretzels," how could I resist?

Great recipe.

Honduran knitting content soon, I promise.

We're back. Adios Honduras.

 

Besides missing Vancouver's record setting snowfall, one of the best parts of the trip was the Latin American food which satisfied my genetically Puerto Rican taste buds. Pasteles, plantains, and flan, oh my. Rice, beans, and fresh fish on the beach:

 

While I do a good job of trying new and different foods while travelling, the English translation of the pasta entree on this menu required a second look (click on it if you can't read it):

 

Yumm?

Note to David R. Stack: you've requested a copy of my pattern, but I'll need your e-mail address in order to send it. Please leave it in a comment. Currently your comments are connected to your profile which doesn't include contact information. Thank you.

It's been a challenging year. We just need some time to catch up with life and our yearly holiday traditions were adding to the pressure. I've always been an advocate of separating the meaning of Christmas from the hype on a bi-yearly basis and this year we're doing it. No cooking, no tree and no presents. Instead we made plans for an escape. Once the decision was made I felt released from a tremendous weight. Only the most basic Christmas decorations came out – my little ceramic Christmas Tree:

and the Nativity, my original olive wood set from my single years, with a stable constructed by Chuck and little ones and some lovingly added mismatched additions:

 

It wouldn't be Christmas without it.

Of course a unique set of circumstances helped make our exit possible – the agreeable kids of a reasonable age, the cancellation insurance from C's interrupted trip, someone willing to come in and keep an eye on things. So we're off to Honduras for a week. A tiny little town on a great big beach. We'll see what good we can get into.

Feliz Navidad!

(PS for those looking for my pattern. Please leave a comment and I will e-mail it to you next week.)

I'm sure this has been abbreviated to a shorter commercial in the US, but we don't subscribe to TV, and this Internet version just cracked me up.

No expectations for gifts at our house this year as we've agreed to do something different. I've always advocated celebrating the non religious parts of Christmas every other year. More on that in another post.

But in terms of gift giving in general, it is pretty depressing around here. My non-profit society runs the charity gift wrap booth at our mall, as our major fund raiser, and business is down 40% from last year. We feature eco-friendly products so it's not about adding to the landfill. A friend's retail shop is experiencing 50% fewer sales this year, I just heard that the Salvation Army's kettle campaign in my town is down 60%, and aren't you noticing more yarn shops going out of business?

I wonder if this will go on long enough to have a significant impact on our comsumeristic society? Maybe it will be a good thing and we'll have to do a better job with less and depend upon each other more like in times long ago? You can see my years in social services bleeding through, can't you? OK, I'll stop.

Someone recently comments that Gracee hasn't made an appearance in a long time.So here she is doing her two favourite tricks:

Gracee, can you crawl?

And balancing a treat on her nose:

Can I eat it now?

Couldn't get a picture of her tossing and eating it – she's way too fast!

(For those looking for the Herringbone Rib pattern – please leave a comment and I will e-mail you the pattern right after Christmas.)

You know the theory, the one that supports that other saying "It's a small world." Six degrees of Separation, explained more intelligently in the link, means that the whole world is connected by people who know someone who knows someone, who knows someone…you're never more than six steps away from that knowledge of someone. I told you Wikipedia could do it better than I. Here are some real life examples:

Twenty four years ago C and I  moved to a small town called Lions Bay, BC, population 1500. The woman next door, and one about five houses up, and I, all graduated from Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo within two years of each other and all ended up in tiny Lions Bay, Canada.

A woman I know had never met her step-father's first children. Even at his funeral events, the two families missed each other by hours. A couple of years later she went on a boating day trip with a group from work. They decided to cross into US territory. When they docked in WA for lunch, they had to provide ID to the customs officer. My friend noticed that the woman next to her had an unusual last name, the same as her step-father's. You've probably guessed it – she was the daughter of her step-dad, the child she had never met, but for whom had selected birthday and Christmas gifts for him to send back to his first family.

I bet lots of you have stories like that. What's yours?

I'm knitting a six degrees, of sorts, comfort blanket. Remember the prayer shawl I made for the mom of my student intern? It sat in the corner of my bedroom for  months because I was afraid to give it to her. Turned out she loved it, telling me it has brought her great comfort over the past year, and could I make two more – one for a friend of her daughter and one for the friend's brother, who as young adults, have lost both their parents. I've started the first one, based on the Bob Blankie by Mags Kandis.

The yarn is James C. Brett Marble Chunky. The skeins are 200 grams each, big as a bowling ball and light as a feather. Very nice for a washable acrylic.

I remember the first time….I saw a blow dryer. Had you going with that title, eh?

Growing up, a hair dryer was something that came in a pink, always pink, round zippered hat box shaped container. It had a plastic bonnet and a clear hose attaching it to the case. When it heated up it stunk like melting plastic.

Just after high school in New York, best friend Rosie and I hit the nearby Max Hair Studio for our first shag cuts, the stylists brandishing the newfangled blow dryers. So excited were we to be free of bonnets and juice cans as rollers, and unable to buy such an exciting tool without professional hair stylist status, we were determined to improvise. Out came the Electrolux vacuum, set on reverse, with a piece of panty hose rubber banded to the end to act as a filter, lest the previous night's sucked up spiders splatter our locks, and – voila (!) our own homemade blow dryer.

As long as we're talking about youthful heads, I can relate this to knitting. Surprised? Here are some eggplant and strawberry hats for a baby shower stash for daughters' friends:

Only a knitter knows the value of the knitted. We've all had the experience of being asked to knit for a price. I usually tell those who ask, that if paid for my time even at minimum wage, the price would be astronomical and that I'd be happy to teach them to knit. So I have an appreciation of such things and that's why I bought me a blankie. I don't need a blanket, I could knit a blanket but behold this beautiful piece of work:

I nearly fell over at a nearby small town craft fair when I saw the $23 price tag. The yarn had to cost more than $23. Certainly there must have been a one missing from the number.

There were socks for $12 and this scarf for $7.50:

I needed a scarf even less than I needed a blanket.

C and I felt guilty and received an explanation from the two Hutterite women working the booth. Their elderly mother was the knitter and she was more concerned about being busy than the price. They were pleased to be sharing their mother's talents and for that I am appreciative. So, for $23 I have a beautiful car blanket that will be the solution to our ongoing marital issue of competing internal thermostats while on the road.

And now to the WINNER of the 5000 comments contest. The beautiful angora goes to blogger Maureen of 5 and a Beagle. Coincidentally, I was the winner of one of her contests a couple of years back. Thank you again to all you readers, both the lurking and loquacious. You are appreciated.

How about this:

Right up my nonprofit career alley, the proceeds of this book, by Betsy Greer, will be donated to Rwanda Knits.

And what's the first pattern in the book?

 

And in the spirit of one good turn deserves another, Betsy paid me for the yarn for the sample scarf, which was made of Manos del Uruguay, another international initiative to help women in an undeveloped part of the world. And the money paid to me will be donated to A Place to Call Home Society, a new registered Canadian charity, that accepts donations of cash and real estate to amass a stock of affordable rental housing for people who work in my community, but can't afford to live here.

Who'd have thought the simple act of knitting could do so much?