It's not easy being green

After about a month-long hiatus, I am knitting again with a vengeance. I started a pinkish cardigan back in early February and was tearing along on it and impressing myself mightily, but then I realized that I still had an immense distance of stockinette to complete and when I did I would be staring down the barrel of a TON of seaming. The wind left my sails and I sputtered to a stop. The pattern I was using was from this book and while the patterns therein are simple as promised, many of them do involve a lot of finishing work. We are not a fan.

After a brief period of existential knitting angst, I decided to jump back in with something familiar. On a whim I bought a skein of actual sock yarn and a set of size 1 dpns and I cast on for my first pair of actual wearable socks. With one sock completed in a lightening fast week, I cast on for a second project...my first true foray into the world of multiple WIPs. I am knitting the Honeymoon Cami from knitty.com in Knitpicks Cotlin in a color called Key Lime. The color actually looks just like Kermit the Frog to me, which is just fine as he is a very wise and charming frog worthy of emulation. Progress photos soon.

It was a dark and stormy night...

Most of the Northeast spent Sunday and Monday being beaten by a classic nor'easter. The nor’easter blew in on Saturday evening and by Sunday we were in the midst of a full monsoon. The basement flooded (fortunately we’re renters so it wasn’t our problem) and then drained out when the sump pump finally and abruptly sprung to life. Apparently it was angered at being awakened, however, because it proceeded to growl and thump loudly all night long. Right. Under. The. Bedroom. Long story short, the damn thing kept us up all night long. By 6:30AM, Patrick and I had each slept for a total of about 1 hour and there was just no way we could go to work. My quandary of the day was what to tell my boss when I called off. Allow me to describe the phenomenon of Maine-snobbery…

I feel compelled to admit that I am generally cynical about southerners (read: residents of States south of Massachusetts) ever using the term nor’easter to describe their weather. Hi. My name is Kate and I am a Maine-snob. Mainers, granted, are tough and very proud people. But they are not as isolated as they once were, and it’s not hard to live in Maine in the same practical ways it once was. Many Mainers feel threatened by this…if it’s not hard to live there- if anyone can do it- what makes us still special?

So we strive to remind outsiders that even though we can retreat to our well-insulated homes and turn the thermostat up and stay cozy and comfy even when it is -10F outside, it is STILL -10F outside and it takes TOUGHNESS to stand it. We do this by expressing casual contempt for ‘southerners” who complain about winter weather. “oh you silly people. This is Nothing! At home we have leisurely outdoor picnics when the weather’s like this!”

Maine-snobbery can also turn on itself. Mainers are used to being a novelty almost anywhere they go outside of New England. As more young Mainers leave the State after college, it is not uncommon to develop a cannibalistic style of Maine-snobbery allowing for maintenance of our unique status in the unlikely event that we encounter another Mainer in the wilds of, say, Pennsylvania. Cannibalistic Maine-snobbery involves the judgement of Mainer-authenticity based on town of origin. The basic idea is that the southern portion of the State is less isolated and more likely to contain things like malls and people from "away" and one can therefore be made of less stern stuff and still live there. (This philosophy conveniently ignores the fact that cars, electricity, running water, grocery stores, and modern conveniences of all types are available throughout the State--this being 2007 and all.)

“oh, you’re from Maine?! Cool, me too! Where exactly?”
“I grew up outside of Portland.”
“oh…really?” (I’m from north of Portland, so at this point my internal monologue is simpering “Oh, that’s not REAL Maine.”)

If I’m honest I’ll tell you that I am guilty of actually uttering this phrase out loud on occasion. In my defense, on those occasions I have felt immediately disgusted with myself (though the standard cover is to pass the comment off as a joke). On the flip side, when this encounter backfires, and I meet a Mainer who is from a town in northern Maine…farther north than my hometown...my internal monologue expresses outrage and shame (“dammit! He got me!”).

Do not misunderstand me...this snobbery is inherently obnoxious and I can completely understand how people find it condescending. Also please do not judge me too harshly. I know other young Mainers who confess the same mentality as well as the same awareness of its lunacy.

So on Monday morning, my Maine-snobbery wanted to fully explain to my boss that while I was technically calling off as a result of the storm, the storm itself was not actually the cause of my inability to come in. I am not afraid to travel in heavy rain and slush. I am tough and don’t mind getting my feet and hair wet. (Ok, I mind it, but I can take it without whining because I’m tough!) I wanted her to understand the chain of events…storm—flooding—noisy-pump--no sleep—too-tired-to-function…so she wouldn’t think me a soft southerner. But that would be foolish and unnecessary and I know it. I took a deep breath, called my boss, and told her I couldn’t come in because my basement was flooded. Simple. True. Not snobby. I think I'm growing.

All Natural

I'm trying not to think about the fact that I just added "no refrigeration needed" half & half to my (decaf, of course) coffee. I definitely see the upside in modern conveniences and I much prefer the actual dairy content that I assume at least partially comprises the NRN H&H to, say, your run-of-the-mill powdered non-dairy creamer. BUT, I think that either one is taking modern technology at least one step farther than necessary. Especially since, regardless of the type of creamer my benevolent employer has decided to provide in a given week, it is stored right next to the fully operational refrigerator.

Now, I grew up in Maine, and I have met plenty of people who are astounded to find that I do not wear Birkenstocks or clothing made of hemp; we did not eat bark or use old copies of the Morning Sentinel instead of toilet paper; I am not a vegetarian, and I use deodorant every single day. We did recycle our plastic bottles and soda cans...but mostly to get the $.05 refund. I generally do not fit the back-to-earth stereotype of extreme Northern New England. (No, you're thinking of Massachusetts--go farther north--a little farther. There you go. See the hippies?) I'll take a moment aside here and say that some of the best people I've ever known would probably be categorized as modern hippies, or at least hippie-hybrids. I can definitely be one with the hippies...I'm just not quite one OF the hippies. I guess that means that I get where they're coming from. I like the idea of things being natural. I like to cook and bake things from scratch. I love fresh produce and whole grains. I love farms and am not bothered by the odor of manure. I love hiking and being in the woods. I can paddle a canoe, pitch a tent, and start a campfire, and I enjoy all three. I love comfortable, non-binding, practical (often unfashionable)clothes. I am learning about how to make my own compost to naturally fertilize my burgeoning garden, and I entertain fantasies of living on a farm and keeping sheep and horses.

On the other hand, as I said, I do appreciate the luxuries of my suburban life. I confess that probably 3-4 out of 5 work week evenings feature a dinner for Patrick and me that is at least partially re-constituted from a box. And I appreciate the fact that I can have, say, mashed potatoes on a Wednesday night without peeling a single potato...they're even pre-seasoned. But I feel compelled to re-constitute those white potatoey flakes (speckled as they are with mystery techno-seasoning) using real milk and butter from the refrigerator. I just don't see the point of simplifying something with a substitute that is no more simple than the real thing. Really, dear employer, I wouldn't mind the extra step of opening the fridge before I can season my coffee.

The Pope of Chili Town

The self proclaimed "Pope of Chili Town," aka Patrick, takes over my kitchen at least once a year. This year he predictably turned up on Superbowl Sunday and provided not only dinner for that night but enough leftovers to allow me daily visits to Chili Town for an entire week. It's a good week for that because deep freeze has finally descended on Philadelphia and since no self-respecting major corporation would heat their facilities sufficiently to keep the average human employee comfortable, a nice hot cup of chili at around 1PM has been requisite every day this week. Also required: wearing two pairs of pants to work, keeping my wool scarf on all day, and keeping a cup of hot water on my desk because if I drink any more coffee I'm going to float away but I need the warm cup to thaw my fingers.
I only half paid attention to the Superbowl. I'm just plain not that interested in football. The only team I care about at all is the Eagles, and that is largely due to adoring loyalty to my husband, combined with the fact that I was raised in a football-less home and thus have no true childhood loyalty to the Patriots (as many New-Englanders living in exile might).
So while I was half-watching the Superbowl, I finished the camp quilt. The overall effect is good, but I'm less than pleased with some of the details. Specifically, the actual quilting process did not go so smoothly. I think I got a little too ambitious for myself and my equipment. First of all, this quilt is HUGE (I think it ended up about 7'x8.' That alone made it pretty unwieldy to feed through my standard-sized sewing machine. Add to that the fact that I decided to get adventurous and quilt on the bias, AND to use one of the fancy stitch settings I've been itching to try on my new machine. Small disasters everywhere. The good news is that from the top the quilt actually looks pretty nice--lofty and inviting. The backing, however, is full of puckers due to the stretchiness of the bias combined with the sheer weight of the fabric moving through the machine...it kept getting hung up on the edge of the table. The fancy stitch pattern turned out to be a nightmare to pick out, so I picked out and re-did the worst areas, but ultimately I had to settle for good enough or else continue to work on this quilt for the rest of my life. I've put the finished quilt away in the closet for delivery to my parents at a later date. I'm hoping that by the time I pull it out again, the imperfections won't seem so obvious to me anymore.
With that monkey off my back, I'm ready for serious knitting. I have $$ set aside for yarn. I have patterns at my disposal. I have free weekend hours on the horizon plus 14 airplane hours to kill flying to London and back in 3 weeks. I have...no decision-making skills...

First Post

I've pretty much decided that I can't handle the pressure of my very first blog post. It needs to be spectacular, right? So that people won't come and read it and think I'm too boring and never return? But I've realized than in most of the blogs I read, any single post is not alone enough to make me keep returning. It's the big picture--that has to be a small picture first. So here we go.

I guess I'll start with knitting, since knit blogs are ultimately what's inspired me to do this in the first place. My experience is limited, but I'm learning fast. My FO's so far are as follows:

• One (1) pair of unwearable gray mittens. Completed winter '02/'03. Unwearable by virtue of their material (100% cheap acrylic=not warm), and their sheer enormous size which is emphasized by thumbs almost twice the length of any human thumb. I'm thinking of ripping them because I'll never wear them, but I'm emotionally attached since they're my first FO. I'd probably never re-use the yarn anyway.
• One (1) white lace baby blanket. Completed summer '05. I made this for some friends whose first child was born in July '05. It took me almost exactly 8 months to finish--possibly a lace blanket made of sport weight yarn on size tiny needles was a little too ambitious for a beginner. It came out beautifully though, all things considered.
• One (1) pair of almost unwearable variegated ribbed socks. Completed New Year '07. The sizes don't quite match, the heel flaps aren't quite deep enough to be comfortable, and like the mittens they are 100% cheap acrylic. Not the best for socks, but I view their construction as an educational experience.

That's it. I've been working off and on for about a year now on another lace afghan, but this one's on huge needles with the yarn doubled so it doesn't make me as crazy as the baby blanket did. It's about 2 feet long right now. And I'm currently almost finished with a second case study in socks--the first one is complete and I think I've resolved the fit problems. I'm also incorporating a cable pattern that I'm very proud of. These socks may actually be wearable, but they're still made of--you guessed it--100% cheap acrylic.

I think it's clear where I'm going with this...I'm ready to graduate to good quality yarn. Problem: I'm completely overwhelmed. I'm so excited at the prospect of soft, luxurious yarn that will turn into something fabulous for me to wear (I think I'm sweater-ready) and be proud of that I can't settle on a pattern, much less the yarn for it. I've been shopping around online, recently on KnitPicks, and I'm continuously finding "exactly what I want" and then rejecting it moments later when I see something else I like. I just need to take the plunge with something and realize that I can go back later for a second project's yarn.

Topic 2: Quilting

Let's get all the crafty stuff out of the way up front. I have an ugly quilt that I've had for as long as I can remember. I call it "the ugly quilt." It's big and soft and wonderful and I love it very much. Since Patrick and I have been together, he has also been lured into an irresistable love affair with the ugly quilt. Sadly, the ugly quilt, at 25+ hard lovin' years of age, has seen better days. A few years ago, as the crafty bug was first starting to get me, I took a closer look at the ugly quilt. I examined the seams and the fabric and the makeup of the ugly quilt. And I decided it didn't look so complicated. So I dug out some scraps I had from various projects of my youth (pillowcases, pajamas, etc.), cut them into squares and made my very first quilt (Completed winter '03/'04). It actually turned out quite well. A year later, Patrick, who had become as enamoured with "the heavy quilt" as he was with the ugly quilt, suggested that I should make another for his parents for Christmas. So I did. This time I bought matching fabric specifically for the quilt, and did some tricky stuff on the bias. It was a big hit. My mother-in-law said that when she first saw it she assumed we had bought it from Ralph Lauren. This praise inspired me to move on in the winter/spring of '06 to make "the star quilt" and then to move on to "the camp quilt," which I'm making for my parents' master bedroom at their lake house or "camp" in Maine. The camp quilt is nearly finished, as is "the grammy quilt" which I'm assembling from a collection of quilt squares my mother discovered in a closet at my grandparents' house.

I realize that none of this is all that interesting to read without visual aids, so I'll do my best to add them soon. Please bear with me...I'm a newbie.

Topic #3: Reading

Right now I'm reading Anna Karenina. I've been reading Anna Karenina for about a month and a half. I am just past the halfway point. I'm enjoying it, but it's a challenging read. Now it's True Confessions time. Not only did I not read this book 10 years ago when I was supposed to for my AP English class, but I have reached the firm conclusion that either I'm much dumber than I thought, or no one else read it then either. Both of these conclusions rise from my realization that this book would have soared right over my 17-year-old head (if I'd even had the patience to finish it). 10 years later, with 4 years of college and an English degree under my belt, this book is a months-long struggle requiring me to actually (and frequently) consult the endnotes and re-read large portions multiple times in order to feel I'm fully comprehending.

Topic #4: Travelling.

The last real trip I went on was my honeymoon, and I can't believe that was actually over 6 months ago now. Since then, my husby (for reasons I can't explain, the word "hubby" repulses me) and I have moved to a new city (new for me anyway...he grew up here), started new jobs (mine actually started 3 weeks before the wedding, but why split hairs), and put a lot of energy into recovering from the financial burdens of a wedding, a honeymoon, 2 job searches, and a move that all took place within a roughly 4 month period. We're finally ready to take a trip again. We're going to London and Dublin. In 4 weeks. I can't wait!!! My sister-in-law is studying in London for the year, and we're taking advantage of the opportunity to return there. It's been over 6 years since Patrick and I finished our own study-abroad year in England, and we're looking forward to visiting some old stomping grounds.

4 topics is a good first post, right? I'll raise a glass of tasty Fuller's London Pride and toast the small picture that is soon to be bigger.