Wish You Were Here

I thought I'd send a e-Postcard from my weekend in Frankfort (right at the haystacks and keep going) which is going extremely well, knitting and otherwise.

Since I last wrote (about knitting at least) I have finished my Grammy's sweater, and sent it off to live at the store as a display peice, finished the knitting for my brother's sweater, in which I designed my own inset sleeves, and made vast progress on the poetry in stitches work.

Pictures to come.

10 Things I Don't Like About Allergy Season

This will probably be really boring, but it might make me feel better.

1)The way that histamines (caused by my reaction to the wind-born pollen) make me fatigued. This makes it hard to a) move, b) get up in the morning and therefore c) fall asleep at night.

2) The way that people who are not affected by allergies (i.e. my family) are really non-sympathetic to point #1.

3) The way my eyes are totally red, all the time, no matter how many different kinds of eye drops I use, lending me that "kid from high school who never went to class and wore alot of Bob Marley Tshirts look 24/7.

4)The fact that it's finally nice enough outside that I could, theoretically knit while walking, were it not a pollen forest or an allergen wind tunnel.

5) I have to shower every day. this isn't a big deal for most people (and my reader may have just gone "ew" and decided to stop checking the blog, leaving me totally crazy and talking to myself) but I don't shower everyday because it a)wastes water and energy and b) I'm just not that smelly or oily. (note: I totally shower after any strenuous physical activity or mudfights or contact with chlorine, but my normal shower schedule is every other or every three days - whenever I can fit it in)

Allergy medication is such and iccue that it needs more than one number.
6) My doctor (who I love very much most of the time) has so far failed to prescribe any sort of medication or send me to an allergist. He instead recommends over-the-counter tablets.

7) Many of these medicines used to be prescription strength things, but they figured out that they could lower their dosage, and be on drug store shelves. This results in pharmacologicals that don't really work well enough, but that my doctor thinks should be working just fine, because they always did before, even though they're lower doses now.

8) Some part of the decision to switch to the shelves in front of the desk surely had to do with the increased ability for the drug companies to rape consumers because they were no longer being covered. I just got a month's worth of Claritin for $22, and that was heavily on sale. This might not be such a big deal if point #9 were not an issue.

9) I am allergic to everything. My allergy season last from April to November. This year was particularly awful because all the leaves rotted and molded, and Mold is perhaps my worst allergy.

10)I get so frustrated by the whole not being able to breathe thing, along with all the other things, that I write long, obnoxious blog posts about my allergy problems. Please excuse me for this.

I do fee much better, though. normal knitting to resume soon. I have a FO!

Dumpasaurus-rex

So, due to Final-exam induced hibernation-type periods, I skipped out on the blogerly duties a bit. I decided that the best way to remedy this oversight was to do an old-fashioned Camera Dump, a la Shelly Kang.
What follows is an account of, to the best of my calculations, 60% of what I've knit since the last fiber-related update type post. There are a few garter-stitch projects I've left out to avoid boring anyone to tears, including grey Red Scarf Project thing and some sock yarn squares I stitched during the Howie Day concert at school.

First, a pair of socks, the yarn for which was purchased during a visit from far away father figure. After the first 24 hours, we stopped in Ann Arbor on the way to a father-daughter Tiger's Game, and I have never been so happy to see the Rainforest colorways in my whole life.
Above, the socks, and a cell phone case I improvised in about an hour after I'd kitchnered the second toe. The whole time I was making them, I had no recipient in mind, I just went with the color changes.

Turns out they were for me! Wahoo!

Upon m return to the family abode, I attacked my room with a festival of knits and project intentions.
Left to right: Mothers' day gift, a shoping bag made of cut up plastic bags, A skein of Noro sock yarn Beth (from the store) gave me as an early birthday present, and leftovers from the slipper knitting of past Christmas, to be a sleeve for my computer.
Here is a picture of younger brother #1 (12-almost-13) making plastic bag yarn for above-mentioned project. Mom declined to know the nature of the project, even after we couldn't present her with it, due to a plastic bag shortage brought on my the sudden diversifying of our town's recycling abilities.

Next, my Gandmother's birthday sweater, an I idea conceived, by my darling mother, of heartwarming generational symmetry, in which I lovingly design a sweater for the woman ho clothed me in fantastic handknits for my entire childhood. We even spent way too much money (more than the five skeins of Berocco's Comfort) on fabulous buttons, as Grammy is the queen of Finding the Perfect Buttons, no matter the cost or number of trips to Joann required.
I, additionally, employed younger brother #2 (9) in Wind Fest 2008 (though he refused my offer of 10 cents a skein).

Young Dude wound up about a dozen skeins of yarn, including the Poetry In Stitches kit, intended for darling Mom. I took the kit to Iron man, where the 303 stitch picot-button band took the majority of the movie.

However, after a half hour of winding, the boy deserted his post to go grub around in the dirt, as nine-year-old boys are wont to do, leaving a pile of wool.

I have faith he will return.

There has been a bit of blocking. The blue on is another Red Scarf Project Piece, and the brown one is a mystery project. Have I mentioned, ever, how much I adore blocking and how crucial I find it to be for Garter Stitch, especially in scarves? No? Well I do.
This brown Mystery Type Project reminds me that I have become, somehow, a responsible knitter person. I am a)not casting on stuff that I really want (see Noro Sock yarn above) until my deadline knitting is done, b) keeping a knitting journal with meticulous notes on what I'm doing, because I have finally accepted that I won't remember what I did on that sock from six months ago, and c) not taking needles from an existing project/ buying another pair because I need them for something else, but instead finishing whatever they're on. Weird.

Fore example, I finished Brown Strip Thing, above, so that I could use my sevens on this birthday sweater for Brother #1's Birthday in early June.
Have no fear, though, I have faith that this knitting monogamy is probably short lived. However, The knitting journal is showing signs of sticking. Hmmmmm.

Bittersweet

I'm choosing to ignore the fact that I haven't posted in almost a month. Suffice to say I did a lot of thinking about this here blog, and am still feeling pretty inconclusive.

Things I Miss from School
1) A certain very tall young man to squire me about.
2) Not having to sleep alone.
3) That cool autonomy thing, where you don't have to tell your Mom that you're going to the grocery store, or spelunking, or whatever.
4) Learning. Not to be confused with paper-writing, which I am NOT missing, but actual receipt of new and interesting information. I really miss that.
5) Someone else cleaning my bathroom and, for that matter, my dishes.
6) Seeing all my friends six times a day, because we all live in the same building.
7) Having everything I have to do within four blocks of my dorm.

Things I Absolutely Do Not Miss
1) Crystal, the psycho room mate.
2) Having to show up at frat events, due to above young man. I usually don't mind this, because I've made really good friends there, but every once in a while I just want to go to bed early with my bunny slippers on.
3) Sleeping in a teeeny weeeny twin bed. This problems is exacerbated by the presence of two people.
4) Paying for my laundry.
5) Baldwin Food.
6)Showering with shoes on, and worrying who would walk down the hall while I was in my towel.
7) Paper-writing. Those last few weeks, I wrote more pages than all of high school.
8)Sheri waking me up when she was a bit tipsy and trying to fall asleep on my rug.

The knitting continues. Pictures to come.

A Tale of Two Feelings.

I've had this post, a-stewin' and a-brewin' inside me for a few weeks and tonight I find myself with a pocket of time to try and say what I really mean.

There have been a few times in my life in which I have regretted NOT doing something. The most vivid is not going back to French Camp for a third year. The deep, immense sadness I felt when I looked at the pictures from that summer still stings when I think about it too hard. Other things, plays I couldn't go to, auditions I didn't show up for, and clubs I never joined still bug me.

So, when the Yarn Harlot posted her account of her Ann Arbor visit the other day, I approached it with caution. I expected to feel the same sense of lost opportunity as when I read the account of last year's visit (for which I had to babysit). I opened the page and read past the Minnesota stuff and through the Ann Arbor story and I felt . . . nothing. Part of this is probably because Stephanie is (understandably) way more hurried and disconnected.

What I really think is changing my perception about knitters is probably related to one of the problems with spending my whole life with other college students. The drift of knitters, especially on Stephanie's tour is headed to a distinctly "look at me, look at me!" mentality.
Everyone is there with her first sock, their underage knitters, all kinds of . . . well, to me they seem like gimmicks.

Before I go any further, I want to clarify for my newer, close proximity knitting friends that I don't mean you. Really. As I've been mulling this, you've been the exceptions, the ones making me say to my self "But what about . . ."

I think this probably comes from my past knitting solitude. I taught myself to knit at a young age and kept doing it for no reason, even though it made me way weirder than I already was. Besides the blogs I've read and used as a learning tool, I really only started communication with other knitters in any way when I started working at the store. The community in which I live, further, fosters women who are the same kind of craftspeople I am; secluded, solitary and loyal to her work.

This is all a way of returning to a question I struggle with. Who do I want to be, in relation to other knitters. I know I love my relationships in real life; the store, Brit Knits, and KKP (my new grasshopper). It's the blogging thing that bus me. Who am I writing for?

Originally, this was something Daniel really really wanted me to do. After my brother, Graham found out, it became a way to connect to a guy with a really different schedule who I miss a lot. But, really, I'd be shocked if more than ten people have been here. So, I guess I'm down to the last reason for blogging, and the answer to my question. I'm writing for me.

So, I'm facing myself with another annoyingly introspective question. If I'm writing this, putting up things about my personal life why don't I stop? Switch to a journal? Email my older brother more regularly? I don't really have an answer. I guess I don't really know what I'm going to do.

Stay tuned?

Out the Other Side

This week has been rough, with four papers, a lab proposal, and a biology exam. My mom said, when I finally phoned her last night, after I sent in my last essay, "It would be nice if they'd spread the college experience out a little."


I was too busy to get to Ann Arbor for the Yarn Harlot. I guess I'll just catch her next year.


Any way - here's what I've been knitting. . .


Knee socks for my mother.
The edge on my shawl - way too late to wear to formal in Toronto.

On an excursion with my father last weekend, we stopped in Ann Arbor. I have never been so happy to see the Safari Colorways in my life. I got two.

Progress on the socks for my professor.

The beginnings of a sweater. I love seed stitch.


A really satisfying, comforting way to end this week (which happened to be Greek Week, along with Absolute Scholarly Hell) was watching all the frats and sororities compete in choreographed dance. Yes.

Itchy

Last night, as I sat on the fourth floor of the KC and represented the Albion Knitting club in independent solidarity with myself (read: alone), I got that funny urge.

I tried to stifle it, ignore it, work some cables, then some lace. Next I went downstairs to get the key to the closet the club shares, hoping to find the ball winder.

I did not find the ball winder.

I did, however, find several spindles and raw fleece.

Where does this come from? About every six months, I get a funny feeling that I need to learn a new craft, or at least do something besides knitting. Does this ever happen to you?

For the record, I left the fleece and stuff in there, as I was frustrated with my inability to locate the gear-y crankin' goodness I sought. And also, because I have some self control, remembering that I packed one small needlepointe project for school emergency-type itchy urges like this one.