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.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, April 13, 2007
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.
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.
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