Friday, January 13, 2012
Coffee and the Nature of the Universe
When and Where: A city morning in October, going to my favourite local coffee shop.
Music: "Java Jive" (the Inkspots), because duh.
Disclaimer: Not a commercial or intended to be one. It's just a goofy-ass little video shot on my goofy-ass Super35mm camera. I wanted to see if I could put something together in IMovie and sync up sound.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
See, I told you we needed a zombie plan.*
I said so all the way back in this post. This right here is why.
There I was, minding my own business on a lovely late-October Saturday afternoon, running some errands in The Annex and loaded up with with two cameras, twenty bucks and a pack of gum. I figured I was ready for anything.
And then suddenly, I saw... wait, no way... are those zombies?
I couldn't tell. I needed a closer look. I hopped in my car, circled the block and hauled butt down Bathurst Street, in order to get a better look at them. Just down the road, my suspicions were confirmed:
So, I did what any self-respecting, well-armed citizen would do. I shot them — with my trusty Minolta X-370, conveniently already loaded with film.
The zombie bride spotted me, and blew me a kiss...
...and that's when I noticed her zombie wedding party was on my side of the street!
It was scary there for a minute. They were all, "Blahblah BRAINS blahblah," and I was like, "Hey, no, no, look THERE!! Spicy brains! Yeah, that's it!" In the end, all the zombies needed was a little attention, guidance, appreciation, encouragement, and the promise of spicy brains. They ate it all up.
*No zombies were harmed in the making of this post. In fact, it sounds like a grand time was had by all, living and undead alike. If you know any of the zombies in these pictures personally, please give them my love. They were fantastic and completely made my day.
There I was, minding my own business on a lovely late-October Saturday afternoon, running some errands in The Annex and loaded up with with two cameras, twenty bucks and a pack of gum. I figured I was ready for anything.
And then suddenly, I saw... wait, no way... are those zombies?
I couldn't tell. I needed a closer look. I hopped in my car, circled the block and hauled butt down Bathurst Street, in order to get a better look at them. Just down the road, my suspicions were confirmed:
So, I did what any self-respecting, well-armed citizen would do. I shot them — with my trusty Minolta X-370, conveniently already loaded with film.
The zombie bride spotted me, and blew me a kiss...
...and that's when I noticed her zombie wedding party was on my side of the street!
It was scary there for a minute. They were all, "Blahblah BRAINS blahblah," and I was like, "Hey, no, no, look THERE!! Spicy brains! Yeah, that's it!" In the end, all the zombies needed was a little attention, guidance, appreciation, encouragement, and the promise of spicy brains. They ate it all up.
*No zombies were harmed in the making of this post. In fact, it sounds like a grand time was had by all, living and undead alike. If you know any of the zombies in these pictures personally, please give them my love. They were fantastic and completely made my day.
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
For the record...
...next week, I am going to start my lecture off with the following announcement:
"Good evening everyone. If you happen to notice that my fly is open, or that my blouse or dress has come unbuttoned, feel free to raise your hand and tell me RIGHT AWAY. The code phrase is knickerbocker.Thank you."
Well, at least I was wearing my fancy knickers and not some old filthy ones pulled out of the dirty clothes. Or better yet, a pair with something tacky like "aim here" printed on them.
#awesomesauce #thisdaygetsbetterbythehour #fuckmylife
"Good evening everyone. If you happen to notice that my fly is open, or that my blouse or dress has come unbuttoned, feel free to raise your hand and tell me RIGHT AWAY. The code phrase is knickerbocker.Thank you."
Well, at least I was wearing my fancy knickers and not some old filthy ones pulled out of the dirty clothes. Or better yet, a pair with something tacky like "aim here" printed on them.
#awesomesauce #thisdaygetsbetterbythehour #fuckmylife
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Suddenly, September
Oh look, it's not summer any more.
I'm not going to lie, I couldn't be happier. Have I mentioned I'm not all that fond of summer? Probably. It bears repeating, though. I turn into a lump of uselessness during the summer. Heat, humidity, too much sunlight, headaches, constant sweatiness. Anywhere you go there are too many people. People trying to cram in all their fun before September, before they have to go "back". I want to hibernate, close my door, lay under a fan and sleep until the cooler evenings come.
Blah. Give me a cool September breeze and the crisp autumn smell of leaves any day. This is the time I love. This is the time of year I come back to life.
How to sum up the last three months?
I was in Boston in mid-June. It was lovely, as much fun as one can have by oneself when they are at a conference.
Entrance to to a T station in Boston, Summer 2011
A perfect day for a carousel, Boston Common Frog Pond, Summer 2011
I visited my parents for a couple days right after the conference, which was great. We drove around and hung out. We needed that.
Dad's Swamp, Pennsylvania, Summer 2011
Childhood memory, Conneaut Lake Park, Pennsylvania, Summer 2011
I taught in July and August. It was not fun, but it was a job, and not as painful as I was expecting for a course I had never taught before. I didn't get to go to Pennsic due to the time constraints, not even for a few days, and that made me exceedingly cranky. Overall, I tried not to die of heat exhaustion. There were a few days when the heat and humidity weren't so oppressive and I was able to get out, walk around, take some pictures, and remember what an amazing city I live in.
Nathan Philips Square, Toronto, Summer 2011
Cathedral Church of St. James, Toronto, Summer 2011
I've needed to pour myself into work a bit these last couple months, while at the same time hide away and restore my soul. We have been officially cat-less since July 6. I haven't really been able to talk about it much yet, let alone write about it. Ford had a great last few months with us. He went out on his own terms, and I was with him. We miss him. That's really all I can muster, even now, over two months later. So, pictures.
Ford in the park, Summer 2011
OHAI, IZ YOU THERE? (Ford meets the IPad camera) Summer 2011
One of the amazing emails I received from my guys while I was in Boston, Summer 2011
I'm not going to lie, I couldn't be happier. Have I mentioned I'm not all that fond of summer? Probably. It bears repeating, though. I turn into a lump of uselessness during the summer. Heat, humidity, too much sunlight, headaches, constant sweatiness. Anywhere you go there are too many people. People trying to cram in all their fun before September, before they have to go "back". I want to hibernate, close my door, lay under a fan and sleep until the cooler evenings come.
Blah. Give me a cool September breeze and the crisp autumn smell of leaves any day. This is the time I love. This is the time of year I come back to life.
How to sum up the last three months?
I was in Boston in mid-June. It was lovely, as much fun as one can have by oneself when they are at a conference.
Entrance to to a T station in Boston, Summer 2011
A perfect day for a carousel, Boston Common Frog Pond, Summer 2011
I visited my parents for a couple days right after the conference, which was great. We drove around and hung out. We needed that.
Dad's Swamp, Pennsylvania, Summer 2011
Childhood memory, Conneaut Lake Park, Pennsylvania, Summer 2011
I taught in July and August. It was not fun, but it was a job, and not as painful as I was expecting for a course I had never taught before. I didn't get to go to Pennsic due to the time constraints, not even for a few days, and that made me exceedingly cranky. Overall, I tried not to die of heat exhaustion. There were a few days when the heat and humidity weren't so oppressive and I was able to get out, walk around, take some pictures, and remember what an amazing city I live in.
Nathan Philips Square, Toronto, Summer 2011
Cathedral Church of St. James, Toronto, Summer 2011
I've needed to pour myself into work a bit these last couple months, while at the same time hide away and restore my soul. We have been officially cat-less since July 6. I haven't really been able to talk about it much yet, let alone write about it. Ford had a great last few months with us. He went out on his own terms, and I was with him. We miss him. That's really all I can muster, even now, over two months later. So, pictures.
Ford in the park, Summer 2011
OHAI, IZ YOU THERE? (Ford meets the IPad camera) Summer 2011
One of the amazing emails I received from my guys while I was in Boston, Summer 2011
Wednesday, June 01, 2011
Words and signs, signs and words.
Pretty much sums it up, right there.
How to describe April and May? "Over" is the best I can come up with. My routine goes something like this: Wake up. Stare at screen. Make coffee. Stare at screen. Type a sentence. Make more coffee. Delete sentence you just typed. Stare at screen. You get the idea. Work is happening, slowly, at its own pace. I'm not entirely pleased about that pace, but I take it as a sign that some words aren't ready to come out yet.
There hasn't been much knitting, either. I've hit a bit of a slump on that. Plugging away on a scarf for myself. This picture is from late April, when I'd just started it. It's getting close to done now:
How to waste an hour without really trying: coffee, camera and knitting.
Mixed in with all the boredom and daily grind, though, there are signs of movement:
Fluevog feets are happy feets. You probably can't tell, but those are the infamous 'Angry Pink Bear' socks. His 'H' is not for 'happy.' His 'H' is for HATE.
There are also signs of spring:
How much did this swan care that I was there? Sweet F. A. comes to mind.
Double exposure of Impossibly Red Tulips in Christie Pits park.
And, being Toronto, there are signs of awesomeness:
Words to live by.
Sometimes, words are hard. I'll take what I can get.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
...and miles to go, but I'm sleeping anyhow.
My concrete ivory tower, Robarts Library, University of Toronto, Feb. 18, 2011.
I keep promising myself I will blog more. It's my only non-academic writing outlet.
And then I think to myself: Do you really need another distraction from academic writing right now?
Probably not.
It's entirely possible I'm kidding myself that I'm actually making progress. Today, it feels like I haven't made a bit of progress in months. Realistically, I know that's not the case, but it's overwhelming to even think about how much there still is to do. Frankly, I'm at the point where this dissertation thing just isn't fun.
Lady S, if you're reading this, I'm kidding. Actually, I'm having a blast. I write enthusiastically eight hours a day and every morning I wake up chirpy and energized, ready to sit down and write some more. I am a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar.*
It appears I don't have a lot to say, really, so here are some more pictures, taken with my very manual camera.
Helpful cat... is not all that helpful, actually. Taken by MrJ. He also put the scarf on the cat, who doesn't seem to mind. Don't ask me, I just work here.
Humber River under the Dundas bridge, Toronto, Feb. 28, 2011. The figure against the pillar on the far bank is graffiti.
My Neighbour's Totoro, a most wonderful snowman near my house. He did have ears, but I hadn't quite mastered how much fits in the frame on this setting yet.
Urban Wisdom
*Spoilers for the movie 'Serenity': The guy who says this quote gets a long wooden spear through the chest and becomes all deadified on the word 'soar'. Take that as you will.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Retreat from technology
It definitely seems that the more stressed I become about deadlines and work, all of it done online, or at least sitting in front of a keyboard, the more reliant I become on activities that do not involve things with power cords.
January was a month of knitting hats and scarves, taking pictures on the very-manual analogue camera, and attempting to convince myself to keep regular work hours. I was very successful at the first of these.
A Scotty Hat for MrJ, modeled on the one worn by Simon Pegg in the recent Trek reboot, because it's Toronto in January.
A scarf for MrJ, because although he loves his Dr. Who Scarf and wears it on the coldest of cold days, a 15.5 ft. scarf is impractical for his crowded subway commute most of the time.
Another Scotty Hat for me, because I keep stealing his when I go out without him.
The re-done hat-which-will-have-kickass-expensive-trim, the one that came out way too large thesecond third time I did it. Now smaller, and waiting for lining, to help it keep its shape.
Yet another hat for me, this one an Urchin. Because it's Toronto in January, and one cannot have enough of these things.
For some reason, the last three things I've knit for myself have been shades of green. I have no explanation.
I was moderately successful at the second item, taking more pictures on the new analogue camera. The last couple rolls have been B&W 120 film.
How to Climb Without Stairs
As for the last thing, keeping regular work hours, I've been somewhat less successful, but it hasn't been a total wash. Some days I feel like I'm treading water on the Big D, some days I'm moving backwards, and some days I'm clawing my way forward by my flimsy, flaking fingernails. Ford has been doing his part, of course, to make sure I take regular breaks.
Taken by MrJ. I'm the one buried under the cat.
I'll get there. One stitch at a time, one shutter click at a time, one word at a time.
Yeah, and how long with that take to get?
January was a month of knitting hats and scarves, taking pictures on the very-manual analogue camera, and attempting to convince myself to keep regular work hours. I was very successful at the first of these.
A Scotty Hat for MrJ, modeled on the one worn by Simon Pegg in the recent Trek reboot, because it's Toronto in January.
A scarf for MrJ, because although he loves his Dr. Who Scarf and wears it on the coldest of cold days, a 15.5 ft. scarf is impractical for his crowded subway commute most of the time.
Another Scotty Hat for me, because I keep stealing his when I go out without him.
The re-done hat-which-will-have-kickass-expensive-trim, the one that came out way too large the
Yet another hat for me, this one an Urchin. Because it's Toronto in January, and one cannot have enough of these things.
For some reason, the last three things I've knit for myself have been shades of green. I have no explanation.
I was moderately successful at the second item, taking more pictures on the new analogue camera. The last couple rolls have been B&W 120 film.
How to Climb Without Stairs
As for the last thing, keeping regular work hours, I've been somewhat less successful, but it hasn't been a total wash. Some days I feel like I'm treading water on the Big D, some days I'm moving backwards, and some days I'm clawing my way forward by my flimsy, flaking fingernails. Ford has been doing his part, of course, to make sure I take regular breaks.
Taken by MrJ. I'm the one buried under the cat.
I'll get there. One stitch at a time, one shutter click at a time, one word at a time.
Yeah, and how long with that take to get?
Thursday, December 30, 2010
We're all waiting for spring
...even the street art.
She Waits for Spring, Kensington Market, Toronto, Dec. 29, 2010
I took this yesterday with my new camera, a DianaF+. It's an intentional double exposure using 35mm 100-speed film. These are fun, totally manual, very retro cameras that normally use 120 film, but can be modified to use 35mm (thankfully, since processing options for 120 film are few and far between these days). I think I'm in love.
Happiness. I've missed analog photography. For the first time in a long time, I can't wait for the next sunny day.
They All Come at Once, Streetcars on King Street (at Peter Street), Toronto, Dec. 29, 2010 (double exposure)
She Waits for Spring, Kensington Market, Toronto, Dec. 29, 2010
I took this yesterday with my new camera, a DianaF+. It's an intentional double exposure using 35mm 100-speed film. These are fun, totally manual, very retro cameras that normally use 120 film, but can be modified to use 35mm (thankfully, since processing options for 120 film are few and far between these days). I think I'm in love.
Happiness. I've missed analog photography. For the first time in a long time, I can't wait for the next sunny day.
They All Come at Once, Streetcars on King Street (at Peter Street), Toronto, Dec. 29, 2010 (double exposure)
Monday, November 08, 2010
Time zones are messing with me
So now that this conference is over, perhaps I can update the blog more regularly again. Perhaps I can even knit more regularly again. I have a couple sweaters that were put on hold in the sweaty, icky heatwave this summer, and this is now the right time to pull them out again and add those last sleeves.
I am in Texas. Right now I'm in Katy, Texas, but before this I was in San Antonio for several days for a conference. SA was fantastic. I told someone that it seems to have taken me 10 years of grad school to figure out how to enjoy a conference, but then, I always was a slow learner. Our hotel was right on the Riverwalk. That's a little bit of awesome, right there.
After waking up Wednesday morning in Toronto to FUCKING FROST on my car, it was fantastic when, 36 hours later, I was walking along the river in San Antonio barefoot - I skipped out of the conference briefly (lesson #1 in learning to enjoy a conference: leave the fucking conference once in a while) in search of cheap photocopies and Starbucks, and decided to go back to the hotel via the Riverwalk only to get completely turned around down there and THEN find that I'd worn the wrong shoes, hence the barefoot. While in SA, I had beef and guacamole in some form every day for three days. I would call that a win, wouldn't you?
I still have to double-check what time it is at any given moment. My computer and IPod were still on EST until yesterday, my phone was on Central, and then Daylight Savings time ended yesterday morning, so everything moved back yet another hour. I finally changed the computer and the IPod to Central yesterday, even though I'm going home today... it was just too confusing, and I don't want to miss my flight or some stupid-ass thing. A lot of clocks (like in my current hotel room) are not changed back to non-Daylight Savings yet. One must be careful.
The conference ended Saturday, and Sunday I rented a car and drove to Katy to meet up with a friend who I'd never met in person before! I love the innernets. Trish and I had fun - dinner and good conversation. We had a hard time finding the bathrooms in the restaurant, though. It was a "Baker Street"-Sherlock Holmes-themed pub, and the door to the restrooms was cleverly disguised as the end of a bookshelf. Trish has a pic, once I get it I'll post it. In honour of the pub, I went back to my hotel and caught the last half of an episode of "Sherlock" (seen it before, but whatever), and fell into blissful-full-belly-post-conference-I'm-on-vacation-tonight sleep. I'm still in bed, and haven't moved much since. Bliss.
I should get moving, though. Time to drive BACK to San Antonio to return the rental car and catch my flight home. Well, almost home - I flew out of Buffalo, NY because OMGLESSTHANHALFTHEPRICE. So once I get into Buffalo at 11pm, I have a 90 minute drive home to Toronto. But I'll have company. And there will be a stop at the duty-free.
No pics in this post, because I suck. I brought my camera, as I always do, but never pulled it out, as always happens. Yes, I went to the Alamo while I was in SA. It's still there. Comforting, yes? As for Relics of Americana: I saw a lock of Davy Crockett's hair in a locket, and my life is now more complete.
And now for a bit of honesty: I love Texas. That's right - this Yankee-Pennsylvanian-Canadian-Liberal has fallen just a little bit for Texas. I blame the gorgeous November weather, which Trish assures me is short-lived. And the guacamole.
I am in Texas. Right now I'm in Katy, Texas, but before this I was in San Antonio for several days for a conference. SA was fantastic. I told someone that it seems to have taken me 10 years of grad school to figure out how to enjoy a conference, but then, I always was a slow learner. Our hotel was right on the Riverwalk. That's a little bit of awesome, right there.
After waking up Wednesday morning in Toronto to FUCKING FROST on my car, it was fantastic when, 36 hours later, I was walking along the river in San Antonio barefoot - I skipped out of the conference briefly (lesson #1 in learning to enjoy a conference: leave the fucking conference once in a while) in search of cheap photocopies and Starbucks, and decided to go back to the hotel via the Riverwalk only to get completely turned around down there and THEN find that I'd worn the wrong shoes, hence the barefoot. While in SA, I had beef and guacamole in some form every day for three days. I would call that a win, wouldn't you?
I still have to double-check what time it is at any given moment. My computer and IPod were still on EST until yesterday, my phone was on Central, and then Daylight Savings time ended yesterday morning, so everything moved back yet another hour. I finally changed the computer and the IPod to Central yesterday, even though I'm going home today... it was just too confusing, and I don't want to miss my flight or some stupid-ass thing. A lot of clocks (like in my current hotel room) are not changed back to non-Daylight Savings yet. One must be careful.
The conference ended Saturday, and Sunday I rented a car and drove to Katy to meet up with a friend who I'd never met in person before! I love the innernets. Trish and I had fun - dinner and good conversation. We had a hard time finding the bathrooms in the restaurant, though. It was a "Baker Street"-Sherlock Holmes-themed pub, and the door to the restrooms was cleverly disguised as the end of a bookshelf. Trish has a pic, once I get it I'll post it. In honour of the pub, I went back to my hotel and caught the last half of an episode of "Sherlock" (seen it before, but whatever), and fell into blissful-full-belly-post-conference-I'm-on-vacation-tonight sleep. I'm still in bed, and haven't moved much since. Bliss.
I should get moving, though. Time to drive BACK to San Antonio to return the rental car and catch my flight home. Well, almost home - I flew out of Buffalo, NY because OMGLESSTHANHALFTHEPRICE. So once I get into Buffalo at 11pm, I have a 90 minute drive home to Toronto. But I'll have company. And there will be a stop at the duty-free.
No pics in this post, because I suck. I brought my camera, as I always do, but never pulled it out, as always happens. Yes, I went to the Alamo while I was in SA. It's still there. Comforting, yes? As for Relics of Americana: I saw a lock of Davy Crockett's hair in a locket, and my life is now more complete.
And now for a bit of honesty: I love Texas. That's right - this Yankee-Pennsylvanian-Canadian-Liberal has fallen just a little bit for Texas. I blame the gorgeous November weather, which Trish assures me is short-lived. And the guacamole.
Monday, September 06, 2010
BLOG ALL THE THINGS!!*
My honey made crepes last weekend. By God, I love when that man cooks. When he cooks, I know all is right with the world. He is the creative one in the kitchen, I'm more of a "throw that shit in the oven on 350 for 35 minutes and it's done" type (I do make a mean chocolate chip cookie, though).
We finally got a barbecue this summer, and it is good. See? This was a couple months ago when we put on the first real steak. It was documented for posterity. And beans on the side burner. Because beans are awesome.
Beans and MEAT
He did this impromptu thing on the barbecue last week with the sweet potatoes where he added maple syrup and cinnamon. NOMNOMNOM.
Enough food prøn. Enough of me feeling like a lazy slacker who doesn't know how to work or get shit done. Let's look at the things I've done recently that don't fall into the SUCK category.
My first foray into entrelac, two of these 8x8 squares for group blanket projects.
Malabrigo worsted in the so-obnoxious-you-have-to-love-it "Lime Blue" colourway
I finished knitting the hat that I bought awesome trim for in mid-June, and finally got around to thinking about blocking and finishing it. One problem: it fit fine before blocking, but when I took it out of the water and tried to block it with a balled-up towel, the yarn stretched like crazy, and the hat suddenly ballooned to a size that comes halfway down my face. I now have it drying flat, and spent a lot of time fiddling with it to try and block it back down to the proper size, but I'm not sure I was all that successful. If I have to, I'll frog it and do it again in the smaller size. It's not that difficult a knit. I'm also now wondering if it's maybe worth lining the final hat to help keep its shape in the future. Of course, that involves sewing. *grumblegrumble*
The amazing expanding hat. Yikes. We'll see what I end up with when it's dry, but I'm betting on huuuuuuuge.
The new Liesl cardigan is flying along, surprisingly. I'm almost done with the body. I'm very much enjoying working with the Cascade220 Heathers wool.
Sleeves soon! It's almost like an insta-sweater.
Finally, an Audrey update! I'm hoping to re-start Audrey the Indigo-Sig Vat for her third season of dyeing. She's been sitting outside in her bin all summer during the heat wave, while I've been sweating too much to even think of dealing with her. One would think that I'd try to get her going again when the weather is possibly hot enough to keep her warm naturally, but that would be too easy. Today was a lovely cool day, and I finally had the energy to do what I've been wanting to all summer, namely strain off the liquid into the spare jar and get rid of the inch or so of muck on the bottom before trying to start her up for the season.
Let me lay this out plainly. This afternoon, I spent 30 minutes carefully transferring nearly 2 gallons of very stale, bacteria-ridden, indigo-infused piss from one jar to another, in the process straining out the rotted remains of 3 years worth of dates, plums, bananas and settled-out urine sediment, using a tea strainer and an old teacup. All clear? OK.
Audrey in her natural habitat, surrounded by Morning Glories for company.
The thing that worries me is that... well... she just wasn't very stinky today. I mean, there's smell, but it's nothing like the normal mind-blowing stench I've come to know and... er, love? I don't remember the smell being this tolerable before... unless, Jebus and FSM help me, I'm actually getting used to it. At any rate, I'm not entirely sure if she'll come back this year. We'll see. I checked her pH (between 9-10, which is just right), added some more stale urine (ask not from where it came - it's FOR SCIENCE!!), fed her some mushy bananas, and turned on her heating pad.
After today's handling, she's now thoroughly oxygenated, so it'll be several days before she even starts to settle down, and a good 7-10 days before we can expect her to be dye-worthy. And then I might still have to add some indigo. You can see some of the mushed-up banana floating here:
Tucked in for the night. I feel like a nervous Mom. Or perhaps, a nervous mad scientist.
Let's see, we've gone from food to knitting to straining pee. All in a week's work, I'd say. Next post: Pennsic loot.
*Translation here. Read and weep tears of joy and recognition at your own life.
We finally got a barbecue this summer, and it is good. See? This was a couple months ago when we put on the first real steak. It was documented for posterity. And beans on the side burner. Because beans are awesome.
Beans and MEAT
He did this impromptu thing on the barbecue last week with the sweet potatoes where he added maple syrup and cinnamon. NOMNOMNOM.
Enough food prøn. Enough of me feeling like a lazy slacker who doesn't know how to work or get shit done. Let's look at the things I've done recently that don't fall into the SUCK category.
My first foray into entrelac, two of these 8x8 squares for group blanket projects.
Malabrigo worsted in the so-obnoxious-you-have-to-love-it "Lime Blue" colourway
I finished knitting the hat that I bought awesome trim for in mid-June, and finally got around to thinking about blocking and finishing it. One problem: it fit fine before blocking, but when I took it out of the water and tried to block it with a balled-up towel, the yarn stretched like crazy, and the hat suddenly ballooned to a size that comes halfway down my face. I now have it drying flat, and spent a lot of time fiddling with it to try and block it back down to the proper size, but I'm not sure I was all that successful. If I have to, I'll frog it and do it again in the smaller size. It's not that difficult a knit. I'm also now wondering if it's maybe worth lining the final hat to help keep its shape in the future. Of course, that involves sewing. *grumblegrumble*
The amazing expanding hat. Yikes. We'll see what I end up with when it's dry, but I'm betting on huuuuuuuge.
The new Liesl cardigan is flying along, surprisingly. I'm almost done with the body. I'm very much enjoying working with the Cascade220 Heathers wool.
Sleeves soon! It's almost like an insta-sweater.
Finally, an Audrey update! I'm hoping to re-start Audrey the Indigo-Sig Vat for her third season of dyeing. She's been sitting outside in her bin all summer during the heat wave, while I've been sweating too much to even think of dealing with her. One would think that I'd try to get her going again when the weather is possibly hot enough to keep her warm naturally, but that would be too easy. Today was a lovely cool day, and I finally had the energy to do what I've been wanting to all summer, namely strain off the liquid into the spare jar and get rid of the inch or so of muck on the bottom before trying to start her up for the season.
Let me lay this out plainly. This afternoon, I spent 30 minutes carefully transferring nearly 2 gallons of very stale, bacteria-ridden, indigo-infused piss from one jar to another, in the process straining out the rotted remains of 3 years worth of dates, plums, bananas and settled-out urine sediment, using a tea strainer and an old teacup. All clear? OK.
Audrey in her natural habitat, surrounded by Morning Glories for company.
The thing that worries me is that... well... she just wasn't very stinky today. I mean, there's smell, but it's nothing like the normal mind-blowing stench I've come to know and... er, love? I don't remember the smell being this tolerable before... unless, Jebus and FSM help me, I'm actually getting used to it. At any rate, I'm not entirely sure if she'll come back this year. We'll see. I checked her pH (between 9-10, which is just right), added some more stale urine (ask not from where it came - it's FOR SCIENCE!!), fed her some mushy bananas, and turned on her heating pad.
After today's handling, she's now thoroughly oxygenated, so it'll be several days before she even starts to settle down, and a good 7-10 days before we can expect her to be dye-worthy. And then I might still have to add some indigo. You can see some of the mushed-up banana floating here:
Tucked in for the night. I feel like a nervous Mom. Or perhaps, a nervous mad scientist.
Let's see, we've gone from food to knitting to straining pee. All in a week's work, I'd say. Next post: Pennsic loot.
*Translation here. Read and weep tears of joy and recognition at your own life.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Summer Daze (the longer, but no less non-sequitur version)
I am quite possibly the most infuriating person I know.
That fucking tunic that I was going to finish before I left for Pennsic, the one that has been on the go 3 years? Yeah, not finished.
That fucking article review that I was going to finish before I finished the fucking tunic before leaving for Pennsic? Went with me to PA, where I carried it around Pennsic with me, slept with it under my pillow, worked on it here and there and finally sent it off a day before packing up my tent.
That large wool sweater that I need to NOT be knitting during a heatwave? Yeah, still knitting it. It has a sleeve now.
To top off the crazy, I started another sweater! In the middle of summer.
Another Liesl cardigan, this time hopefully better-fitting for me, and definitely in a harder-wearing yarn.
Taking a look at that top picture of the "Hey, Lady!" sweater again, I think I've finally figured out my fitting problem with several of my handknits. No, my arms are not quite that freakishly short, although they are pretty short. The problem lies in the back width. I always make the pattern for my bust size, and my sweaters always come out huge - the neck yokes end up going halfway down my upper arm, with the "sleeve" portions starting closer to my elbow than my shoulder.
Same thing happened on the Liesl de no Manos (which has now officially been gifted to my big sister Kath, yay! And it looks fantastic on her.) Same thing on the Shimmer shrug, which resulted in many shortenings of the sleeves.
Problem is, while I am busty* and extra-large-sized because of considerable extra weight, I am a petite build. That means my shoulder-to-shoulder width is way smaller than what patterns for my bust size are designed for. I need to be making smaller back sizes, and fixing the bust size issue with short rows or extra width on the front or something. There are ways. And I will learn them. I will learn how to make them work for me, and bend them to my will.
Because what I really need to do is learn about clothes sizing and proper fitting techniques, rather than work on Big D, right?
Yeah, like I said: infuriating. But very, very me.
*According to the first Real Bra I have ever purchased, after having had my first ever Real Bra Fitting: I am a (UK)40H, which is also a (US)40K. Yes. Fucking K-cup. Baby Jebus could fit inside my bra cup and take a nap.
That fucking tunic that I was going to finish before I left for Pennsic, the one that has been on the go 3 years? Yeah, not finished.
That fucking article review that I was going to finish before I finished the fucking tunic before leaving for Pennsic? Went with me to PA, where I carried it around Pennsic with me, slept with it under my pillow, worked on it here and there and finally sent it off a day before packing up my tent.
That large wool sweater that I need to NOT be knitting during a heatwave? Yeah, still knitting it. It has a sleeve now.
To top off the crazy, I started another sweater! In the middle of summer.
Another Liesl cardigan, this time hopefully better-fitting for me, and definitely in a harder-wearing yarn.
Taking a look at that top picture of the "Hey, Lady!" sweater again, I think I've finally figured out my fitting problem with several of my handknits. No, my arms are not quite that freakishly short, although they are pretty short. The problem lies in the back width. I always make the pattern for my bust size, and my sweaters always come out huge - the neck yokes end up going halfway down my upper arm, with the "sleeve" portions starting closer to my elbow than my shoulder.
Same thing happened on the Liesl de no Manos (which has now officially been gifted to my big sister Kath, yay! And it looks fantastic on her.) Same thing on the Shimmer shrug, which resulted in many shortenings of the sleeves.
Problem is, while I am busty* and extra-large-sized because of considerable extra weight, I am a petite build. That means my shoulder-to-shoulder width is way smaller than what patterns for my bust size are designed for. I need to be making smaller back sizes, and fixing the bust size issue with short rows or extra width on the front or something. There are ways. And I will learn them. I will learn how to make them work for me, and bend them to my will.
Because what I really need to do is learn about clothes sizing and proper fitting techniques, rather than work on Big D, right?
Yeah, like I said: infuriating. But very, very me.
*According to the first Real Bra I have ever purchased, after having had my first ever Real Bra Fitting: I am a (UK)40H, which is also a (US)40K. Yes. Fucking K-cup. Baby Jebus could fit inside my bra cup and take a nap.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Summer Daze (the non-sequitur, abbreviated version)
This blog will resume shortly.
Note to self: Knitting a large wool sweater during a July heatwave is stupid. Stop it.
Note to self 2: I will finish this fucking tunic before leaving for Pennsic on Friday. It's only been on the go for three years, and I would like to wear it next week.
Note to self 3: I will write up and email this fucking article review before I finish that fucking tunic before leaving for Pennsic on Friday.
Note to self 4: A day when I have to clean up cat barf twice before noon is just taking the piss.
How is your summer going?
Note to self: Knitting a large wool sweater during a July heatwave is stupid. Stop it.
Note to self 2: I will finish this fucking tunic before leaving for Pennsic on Friday. It's only been on the go for three years, and I would like to wear it next week.
Note to self 3: I will write up and email this fucking article review before I finish that fucking tunic before leaving for Pennsic on Friday.
Note to self 4: A day when I have to clean up cat barf twice before noon is just taking the piss.
How is your summer going?
Monday, May 31, 2010
Into the fire
It's hot.
It's really, really, fucking hot.
We are having a heat wave. In May. In Toronto. 30+ degrees today, not counting the humidity.
Did I mention that our AC hasn't worked for over a year? Yeah. Probably need to get on that.
The cat is desperate for cuddles, and I can't stand to have him on me. His fur sticks and I sweat more. Poor thing. Instead, he and I sit at the kitchen table under the ceiling fan, trying to stay cool.
I'm teaching this term, hence the relative silence. We're half way through the first 6-week summer term, only 6 more lectures and a final exam to go. Um, whee? Even when you've taught the course before, it's always more work than you think it will be.
What, then, is a sweaty, cranky fibre fanatic to do? Knit, of course. The "Hey, Lady!" sweater is very slowly gaining sleeves. Well, a sleeve, so far. As the average daytime temperature rises, progress has slowed on anything semi-heavy and made of wool. Pictures once the first sleeve is on.
In the meantime, I'm making a hat.
I was further along last week, but I decided I didn't like the way the hem folded up (the purl row stuck out rather than under), so I ripped back down to that point, added a couple more rows, and re-folded it. I'm at the pleat row now for the second time, and much happier with how the hem looks..
The best part of this hat, and the thing I'm most excited about, inexplicably, is that is calls for a ribbon band. This of course meant that I was required to make a trip to Mokuba on Queen Street, which is easily the best place to go for ribbons and trim in the city, if not the province or the country. It's also likely one of the few places where I could drop $60 on 4.5 meters of ribbon and be thanking them when I leave. But it's that good, it really is. Not being a great fan of sewing, I have little reason to go ribbon or trim shopping, so if I'm going to do it, I'm going to splurge. Considering that they have spools of stuff that go for well over $150/metre, I like to think I did pretty well.
So, what does $60 of trim get you at Mokuba?
2 metres of 50mm golden-yellow grosgrain ribbon, and 2.5 metres of complimentary floral tape
The floral tape will be tacked to the grosgrain in a wave.
Finally, I've been feeling a bit bereft this past week, since my favourite show has wrapped up. No, not Lost. Give me some credit, please. I mean Ashes to Ashes. Not quite sure what I'm going to do without my weekly dose of Guv Luv. Keep an eye out for the next good thing, I guess, and in the meantime, watch A2A and Life on Mars from the beginning again.
I'm going to be deadly serious here for a second. Gene Hunt: Best. Character. Ever. Accept no imitations.
Last night: Jonathon Coulton, Paul & Storm, in concert. Always a wonderful show, wouldn't have missed it for anything. So we didn't.
It's really, really, fucking hot.
We are having a heat wave. In May. In Toronto. 30+ degrees today, not counting the humidity.
Did I mention that our AC hasn't worked for over a year? Yeah. Probably need to get on that.
The cat is desperate for cuddles, and I can't stand to have him on me. His fur sticks and I sweat more. Poor thing. Instead, he and I sit at the kitchen table under the ceiling fan, trying to stay cool.
I'm teaching this term, hence the relative silence. We're half way through the first 6-week summer term, only 6 more lectures and a final exam to go. Um, whee? Even when you've taught the course before, it's always more work than you think it will be.
What, then, is a sweaty, cranky fibre fanatic to do? Knit, of course. The "Hey, Lady!" sweater is very slowly gaining sleeves. Well, a sleeve, so far. As the average daytime temperature rises, progress has slowed on anything semi-heavy and made of wool. Pictures once the first sleeve is on.
In the meantime, I'm making a hat.
I was further along last week, but I decided I didn't like the way the hem folded up (the purl row stuck out rather than under), so I ripped back down to that point, added a couple more rows, and re-folded it. I'm at the pleat row now for the second time, and much happier with how the hem looks..
The best part of this hat, and the thing I'm most excited about, inexplicably, is that is calls for a ribbon band. This of course meant that I was required to make a trip to Mokuba on Queen Street, which is easily the best place to go for ribbons and trim in the city, if not the province or the country. It's also likely one of the few places where I could drop $60 on 4.5 meters of ribbon and be thanking them when I leave. But it's that good, it really is. Not being a great fan of sewing, I have little reason to go ribbon or trim shopping, so if I'm going to do it, I'm going to splurge. Considering that they have spools of stuff that go for well over $150/metre, I like to think I did pretty well.
So, what does $60 of trim get you at Mokuba?
2 metres of 50mm golden-yellow grosgrain ribbon, and 2.5 metres of complimentary floral tape
The floral tape will be tacked to the grosgrain in a wave.
Finally, I've been feeling a bit bereft this past week, since my favourite show has wrapped up. No, not Lost. Give me some credit, please. I mean Ashes to Ashes. Not quite sure what I'm going to do without my weekly dose of Guv Luv. Keep an eye out for the next good thing, I guess, and in the meantime, watch A2A and Life on Mars from the beginning again.
I'm going to be deadly serious here for a second. Gene Hunt: Best. Character. Ever. Accept no imitations.
Last night: Jonathon Coulton, Paul & Storm, in concert. Always a wonderful show, wouldn't have missed it for anything. So we didn't.
Friday, April 02, 2010
Better living through technology
At last, Mother Nature, that Tease, has decided to let us have a real taste of spring. I wore sandals outside yesterday for the first time this year. "They" say it's going to be nice for at least the next several days, but I don't trust her, Mother Nature, that Bastion of Bitchiness. She's pulled this stuff before.
In the meantime, knitters work to clothe ourselves and our loved ones for all contingencies. For example:
The finished "Liesl de no Manos" cardigan:
Made with almost exactly three skeins of Malabrigo worsted, in the "Plena" colourway
I suspect I'll be making a couple more of these, as gifts. It was a relatively quick knit, too. But first, another one for myself, this time a concert-appropriate black version for over the sleeveless black concert dress. Here's a preview:
Fingering-weight spun wool-soysilk, to be knit together with a worsted-weight black to make another Liesl cardigan
I'll start a gauge swatch shortly.
Finally, the continuing progress on the "Hey, Lady!" Sweater:
No sleeves yet, but it's almost long enough.
I got far more done on it than I realized while visiting PA a couple weeks ago. Since I have such a short torso, the body is much closer to being done than I expected. I tried it on, and it's looking like a couple more inches of the lace pattern are all that's needed. Then it's the final couple inches of garter stitch, then sleeves.
In other news, I'd like to officially welcome the newest member of our household:
Oh no, I didn't...
Oh yes, I did.
An antique Canadian Production Wheel, bought from a lady in my concert band who is moving and downsizing. Purchased by her father in 1967 from an antique shop in Baie-St.-Paul, Quebec, it was kept in her parents' cottage and home, and following that, her home, as a decorative piece. They took great care of it, so although it hasn't been used as a working wheel in well over 40 years, it only requires a disassembly for a good cleaning and oiling, replacing the dowels that are missing on the wheel supports, and putting on a drive band.
Bandfriend Derryl and I had talked about this wheel last year. She mentioned she was planning to sell a bunch of things, including a wheel that had been in her family for decades. She wondered if I knew people who might be interested. She didn't even know if it worked, and she wanted to have it appraised, so I told her to let me know when she had an amount and I would put out feelers and drop by to see it. I promptly forgot about it until she mentioned a couple weeks ago at rehearsal that the appraiser had suggested CDN $200, if I was still interested, otherwise it would be put up for auction. Some phone calls and 24 hours later, my friend Jean and I (she's a wheel spinner who knows what to look for, so I was hoping she could come with me) went to look at it. Within five minutes, we knew the only real question was, "Will it fit into my car, or does it need to go in Jean's truck?"
It fit in the car. I called DH on the way home to warn him. He was... understandably surprised. Heck, I was surprised.
There's no maker's mark on it. It has been refinished in its past, and the mark was likely a simple stencil that was stripped off. However, thanks to the magic of the innernets and some wonderful research being done on these wheels by an online group, it has been tentatively identified as a Michel Cadorette wheel made in St Hyacinthe, Quebec, some time before 1929 (when Michel died), and likely before 1922, when his son Phillias took over the business. A woman in the online group has an exact twin of this wheel, with identical wood turnings, maker mark intact.
And so here it sits, in my kitchen. I'm pleased, if a little bewildered. Seriously, I wasn't planning to buy a wheel any time soon. I'm very happy with my large collection of drop spindles. I use them regularly and productively. Being of the belief that to really understand how things work, you have to start at the beginning, I've often considered a wheel something of an unnecessary technological luxury in my own "process" spinning. But there was no way I could walk away from this one. From her. She's a proud old lady who has stood the test of time, and she wants to be used, put back into production.
Also, she needs a name. Preferably something French Canadian - suggestions welcome. I'll learn to pronounce it properly, I promise.
The week after I brought her home, I showed pictures of the new girl to Lady S while we were chatting at the beginning of our weekly meeting - I figure it's just as well your supervisor knows exactly why you're distracted from work, no sense hiding it. Later in the meeting, my computer began to act up. I was charting something for Lady S and trying to print it, while Excel (that bastard) was crashing, taking Word (that farging arsebadger) with it, and with that the rest of the system. I cussed firmly and force-rebooted the whole dratted laptop.
"Just in case you ever wonder why I bought a spinning wheel," I said over my shoulder, "or why I have a loom, or a tendency to use two sticks to knot string into fabric a lot, this is why."
Lady S raised an eyebrow in question.
"In 40 years, this thing" - I waved jauntily with my middle finger toward the rebooting laptop - "will be junk. It won't work. I depend on it daily. I rarely leave home without it, and in a few years, it'll be a paperweight. But I'd put hard money down right now that in 40, or even 60 years, that 80-year-old spinning wheel in my kitchen will still be working."
She smiled. And she did not take me up on the bet.
In the meantime, knitters work to clothe ourselves and our loved ones for all contingencies. For example:
The finished "Liesl de no Manos" cardigan:
Made with almost exactly three skeins of Malabrigo worsted, in the "Plena" colourway
I suspect I'll be making a couple more of these, as gifts. It was a relatively quick knit, too. But first, another one for myself, this time a concert-appropriate black version for over the sleeveless black concert dress. Here's a preview:
Fingering-weight spun wool-soysilk, to be knit together with a worsted-weight black to make another Liesl cardigan
I'll start a gauge swatch shortly.
Finally, the continuing progress on the "Hey, Lady!" Sweater:
No sleeves yet, but it's almost long enough.
I got far more done on it than I realized while visiting PA a couple weeks ago. Since I have such a short torso, the body is much closer to being done than I expected. I tried it on, and it's looking like a couple more inches of the lace pattern are all that's needed. Then it's the final couple inches of garter stitch, then sleeves.
In other news, I'd like to officially welcome the newest member of our household:
Oh no, I didn't...
Oh yes, I did.
An antique Canadian Production Wheel, bought from a lady in my concert band who is moving and downsizing. Purchased by her father in 1967 from an antique shop in Baie-St.-Paul, Quebec, it was kept in her parents' cottage and home, and following that, her home, as a decorative piece. They took great care of it, so although it hasn't been used as a working wheel in well over 40 years, it only requires a disassembly for a good cleaning and oiling, replacing the dowels that are missing on the wheel supports, and putting on a drive band.
Bandfriend Derryl and I had talked about this wheel last year. She mentioned she was planning to sell a bunch of things, including a wheel that had been in her family for decades. She wondered if I knew people who might be interested. She didn't even know if it worked, and she wanted to have it appraised, so I told her to let me know when she had an amount and I would put out feelers and drop by to see it. I promptly forgot about it until she mentioned a couple weeks ago at rehearsal that the appraiser had suggested CDN $200, if I was still interested, otherwise it would be put up for auction. Some phone calls and 24 hours later, my friend Jean and I (she's a wheel spinner who knows what to look for, so I was hoping she could come with me) went to look at it. Within five minutes, we knew the only real question was, "Will it fit into my car, or does it need to go in Jean's truck?"
It fit in the car. I called DH on the way home to warn him. He was... understandably surprised. Heck, I was surprised.
There's no maker's mark on it. It has been refinished in its past, and the mark was likely a simple stencil that was stripped off. However, thanks to the magic of the innernets and some wonderful research being done on these wheels by an online group, it has been tentatively identified as a Michel Cadorette wheel made in St Hyacinthe, Quebec, some time before 1929 (when Michel died), and likely before 1922, when his son Phillias took over the business. A woman in the online group has an exact twin of this wheel, with identical wood turnings, maker mark intact.
And so here it sits, in my kitchen. I'm pleased, if a little bewildered. Seriously, I wasn't planning to buy a wheel any time soon. I'm very happy with my large collection of drop spindles. I use them regularly and productively. Being of the belief that to really understand how things work, you have to start at the beginning, I've often considered a wheel something of an unnecessary technological luxury in my own "process" spinning. But there was no way I could walk away from this one. From her. She's a proud old lady who has stood the test of time, and she wants to be used, put back into production.
Also, she needs a name. Preferably something French Canadian - suggestions welcome. I'll learn to pronounce it properly, I promise.
The week after I brought her home, I showed pictures of the new girl to Lady S while we were chatting at the beginning of our weekly meeting - I figure it's just as well your supervisor knows exactly why you're distracted from work, no sense hiding it. Later in the meeting, my computer began to act up. I was charting something for Lady S and trying to print it, while Excel (that bastard) was crashing, taking Word (that farging arsebadger) with it, and with that the rest of the system. I cussed firmly and force-rebooted the whole dratted laptop.
"Just in case you ever wonder why I bought a spinning wheel," I said over my shoulder, "or why I have a loom, or a tendency to use two sticks to knot string into fabric a lot, this is why."
Lady S raised an eyebrow in question.
"In 40 years, this thing" - I waved jauntily with my middle finger toward the rebooting laptop - "will be junk. It won't work. I depend on it daily. I rarely leave home without it, and in a few years, it'll be a paperweight. But I'd put hard money down right now that in 40, or even 60 years, that 80-year-old spinning wheel in my kitchen will still be working."
She smiled. And she did not take me up on the bet.
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