Import Export

I've moved to www.wildethymeknits.blogspot.com

Now I don't usually profess to be much of a techie, but in recent days I've been confronted by some serious work on the computer front. Right now, I am feeling hugely proud of myself, because despite the fact that I've had the house to get shipshape after three months of kids at home, food to cook, soccer games to attend and knitting to see to, I have achieved the impossible!

I have exported my blog to another address.

It's a long story actually. About a year ago, not long after I started writing Wilde Thyme Knits, I had a major catastrophe......I accidently DELETED my blog! I know....pretty dumb really, but what can I say? It takes just one slip of the finger and life can never be the same again.

I wrote to Blogger....... I wrote to Blogger again.....I joined the throngs of people begging Blogger to PLEASE retrieve their beloved blogs.

Nothing. Not even a "Tweet" to say they'd received my pleading missive (and let's face it, they have intimate connections with Twitter, so a small microblog would not have been too much to ask.) Still nothing. I resigned myself to starting again with another url and have been saddled with a "TER" on the end of "KNIT" ever since. I've checked back with Blogger periodically over the past year, just in case I could get them to acknowledge my existence, but again nothing.

During a recent sojourn into Blogland, I made the discovery that Blogger was permitting access to old addresses again. Aside from the fact that by now I'd forgotten which e-mail ID and password I'd used to set up my original account, what I did discover was that I could now create a new blog attached to my old Expat blog account using my original url http://www.wildethymeknits.blogspot.com/

My life was complete.

This weekend I bravely created the new blog, exported the old to my desktop and then imported it from there to the new site. Can you believe it? I was holding my breath, I can tell you. A year's worth of work was on the line after all. But I did it! The only problem was that none of the features transferred with the posts, so I've spent several hours rebuilding parts of the site. This has also given me the opportunity for a bit of a face lift, so I've changed to a new template too.

My new found techie abilities saw me multi tasking on the way home from walking The Little Guy to school this morning too. As my text inbox on my cell phone was so full that it couldn't take any more messages, I decided to delete during the ten minute stroll back up the hill. I walked and deleted, crossed roads and deleted, all the while making this "ding dong" noise as each one of the 90 texts got erased from my inbox. (Talk about cleaning up! I've gone into over drive.) The final text was deleted just as I reached my front door.

So I've cleaned up, sorted out and am settling into a new blogging home now. Please come over and join me. Leave a comment to let me know you've arrived or join my Google followers. The kettle's on, the welcome's warm, I'd love to see you.

http://www.wildethymeknits.blogspot.com/

A Poor Craftsman Always Blames His Tools

I came across this article this morning from one of my favourite financial blogs, "Get Rich Slowly." It talks about how to evaluate potential purchases and encourages us to think about our needs versus our wants. The author is building a new home, which will require a new kitchen. Or will it?

Having come across an article by food writer Mark Bittman entitled, "So Your Kitchen Is Tiny. So What?" it led her to question her reasons for wanting fancy new kitchen appliances. Do the appliances make the cook or is the art of cooking just that; an ability no matter how good your tools are?

Bittman, who writes The Minimalist column in The New York Times, describes in this article how he makes do with only 42 square feet of kitchen space. He writes:

[Chefs and food writers] know that when it comes to kitchens, size and equipment don’t count nearly as much as devotion, passion, common sense and, of course, experience.
To pretend otherwise — to spend tens of thousands of dollars or more on a kitchen before learning how to cook, as is sadly common — is to fall into the same kind of silly consumerism that leads people to believe that an expensive gym membership will get them into shape or the right bed will improve their sex life. As runners run and writers write, cooks cook, under pretty much any circumstance.

This got me thinking about knitting (just to make a change.) Are we really only as good as the quality of the tools we use or is the fact that we can knit really the most important thing?

Last week I attended the first ever meeting of our local Knitter's Guild. It was a wonderful evening and one of the funniest parts was the game, "Can You Knit With This?" Knitters were asked to delve into a brown paper carrier bag and pluck out two regular household items to knit with. What a riot! In the space of 3 minutes our valiant volunteers created fabric using everything from a wooden spoon to a whisk!

Frankly, I think this proves that true skill will prevail no matter what the circumstances. A real artist can create in any situation and it is the act of doing that is fundamental to developing that skill.

Now, I'm not advocating that you grab the turkey baster from the kitchen and set to with gusto, but don't let the quality of your tools and yarn stop you from creating wonderful objects. After all "sticks and string" really are all you need to create beautiful works of knitted art.

PS: I'm on the last sleeve!

A Knitter's Note

Pattern: 'Tomten' by Elizabeth Zimmermann
Materials: Plymouth Encore

Needles: US 8

I write a lot of notes. I am always afraid that I'll forget something and so my house is littered with bits of paper decorated with my semi-legible scrawl. I have lists of groceries, a general daily 'To-Do' list and a liberal sprinkling of reminders to clean out the cat's litter tray, pay the bills or drive the kids to an event. In fact I really should write myself a note as a reminder to put my son to bed at a decent time (or actually 'at all!') Last night, I forgot and he was up until I went to bed. Not a very good omen when school is about to start back next week!

My life also consists of knitting notes. Sometimes I run out of row counters and so I revert to scraps of paper marked with roman numeral chicken scrawl. It's extremely effective and has served me well for 35 years. As long as I remember to put the note back into the knitting bag at the end of my session, I'm good.

It is not surprising then that I have had to write myself a rather large 'Note To Self' just so that I don't forget that I now have a man downstairs! Yes, having barged in on several important business calls during the past few days, I have reverted to the 'visual reminder' method of mental prompting that I know works so well with me. My note is kingsized and is working like a dream.

I've also taken advantage of a few moments in the car at soccer practice working on 'Tomten.' Despite the blazing sunshine, I was determined to make headway on the hood and spent a peaceful 45 mins knitting in the heat. In fact, I feel that I really owe EZ a knitter's note. I'll send it as a prayer, I think. It's very simple really. It'll just say:

"Thanks!"

Ready For Change?

Pattern:"Tomten" by Elizabeth Zimmermann

Materials:Yarn: Plymouth Encore

Needles: US 8

I have a man in my garage!

Yes, along with the three children lurking somewhere in the bedrooms and the visiting parents in the garden, I now have a husband working in my garage! In the absense of a home office, poor P.A. has been forced to take up residence in the only other quiet spot in the house...his beloved garage workshop.

The start of September has seen several changes here at Wilde Thyme including the slow disintegration of the job that brought us to America. With the lease up on his company's offices, working from home has just kind of happened, but for how long we don't know. Naturally we are "down" but by no means are we "out" yet. Let's face it, we are British and that stiff upper lip is alive and well and living at our house!! For want of a better analogy: "The show's not over until the fat lady sings!"

So with fortitude we have launched ourselves into our new routine. I can no longer go in and out of my house via the garage, but must now remember to take the front door key with me to lock and unlock the main door. This could well leave me searching my pockets, handbag and the car glove compartment on a regular basis, but I'm sure I'll get used to it eventually. Nipping out to the grocery store today though meant moving the truck, then my car, then replacing the truck, before I could drive my parents out. This was after I'd been on a hunt for P.A.'s keys. Reaching the freezer also caused a small hiccup as well. It now supports a fax machine so I'm going to have to get myself slightly more organised when it comes to defrosting things.

Thank goodness for "Tomten". I've been taking EZ's advice and have been 'knitting through all crisis.' Yesterday I took my knitting to my daughter's pediatrician's office. I'd just settled down to start, when the doctor walked in to see us. Thankfully she's a fellow knitter and was quite happy for me to continue with my garter stitch while we all talked. I managed several rows on one of the fronts while we discussed vaccination charts and medical insurance.

In fact, I really am going great guns on this project. I'm almost looking forward to the day I get trapped in the car by rain at soccer practice. Just imagine it, an entire hour out of 'the mad house', alone with my knitting! Now that's a change I'm ready for.

A Relegated Knitter

Have you ever been out knit? You know, someone else nearby is constantly managing to create the most wonderful things and you're struggling to even pick up the needles. To start with it's mildly irritating, but after a few weeks it REALLY begins to grate.

Such is my situation now. For all of my good intentions, I managed only about an hour of free knitting time during my vacation. It just wasn't that kind of holiday. In fact, I was so pathetic that I couldn't even get my act together enough to knit in the car as we drove to Canada. In my haste to get everyone and everything safely stashed in the vehicle, I completely forgot to throw my knitting on to the front seat. Halfway to Vancouver, I turned round to see that DD2 was knitting on a fushia pink winter hat and grinning like the cat who got the cream!

So much for being a knitter with a capital "K". This summer I've turned into a pathetic excuse for a knitter. A knitter who is definitely a knitter with a small "k" and should really be considered a "nitter" with no "k" at all! If I was a soccer team I definitely wouldn't be first division material and would now have almost certainly been dropped from the division and perhaps even relegated to the bottom of the league. Yes, relegation is my new calling.

In fact, my only saving grace was that I did have the forethought to pack my knitting bag where I could find it for the return journey. What a godsend that turned out to be. Friday night at the US/Canadian border is no picnic, I can tell you. I was relieved to have the scarf to knit and the latest copy of "Interweave Knits" to browse through while we sat in line. Eventually, I decided to take pictures of the beautiful garden at the border, a decision that very nearly resulted in me getting left behind. I was just heading back to our vehicle when they waved our block of cars on to the front of the line. I rarely run in public (and for good reason) but the prospect of being left in Canada with no passport and no money was enough for me to attempt to emulate Usain Bolt, much to the amusement of my fellow travellers!

We waited over two hours just to have the pleasure of showing our green cards to a stern border patrolman, who asked whether we'd bought anything and got hit by one of P.A's "Er, wells?" This was not the time for a laid back, contemplative "Er, well?" His suspicion aroused, the border guard ducked his head back in time to hear that DD1 had "just bought a few clothes." Now anyone with half a brain would know that purchasing anything up there would have been pretty pointless. The clothing was so small that I could have dressed a doll with it and there wasn't a yarn store within miles of downtown (I did google them.) Add to that the fact that everything cost a lot more than it does here at home and you get my point. Unless they happened to be selling Quivit nextdoor to my hotel, then I wasn't going to be tempted by much.

In California last week, I managed an hour on my Kid's Keyhole Scarf. I console myself with the fact that it was the most complicated part, as I managed to make the 'keyhole' part while I was there. Still, I am definitely fodder for the "Knitter Relegation Squad" when it comes to airline travel. Yes, I confess, I was intimidated by airline security and so I packed my knitting in my suitcase. I like to travel light too, which means that I check my tiny, roll along suitcase and then watch the rest of my fellow travellers trying to shove theirs into the overhead lockers. It's actually rather amusing. Here in the US you can bring a handbag and a small case on to the plane. As a European, I'm used to travelling with a lot greater luggage restriction and frankly, the hassle of trying to fight other people for that locker space is just not worth it. While they're wrestling with their hand luggage, I have usually left the plane and am cruising into the terminal to retrieve my roll along from the baggage carousel. I arrive at my destination a whole lot calmer and less dishevelled.

Still, I haven't mastered the art yet of aeroplane knitting. What are the rules? How do you get needles and stitch holders past airport security? Do you just use bamboo for airline travel and are socks out of the question because the needles are so small and sharp?

To avoid relegation, I think I need to know!

Vacation

Yes, I finally managed some knitting! Last night I kissed the family goodbye and grabbed my bag to go and meet with some knitting friends for a few hours. Initially it took me a while to remember what I was knitting, how far I'd come and if I could actually talk and knit at the same time. I was pleased to discover that I haven't lost the art of either! Indeed it's just like riding a bike - once you've learned, you never forget.

My delightful little project bag (handmade by my MIL) proved to contain the dear little grey Keyhole Scarf that I started aeons ago. It was honestly good to kick back and knit a little on something that didn't take a lot of brain power or energy. After weeks of decorating, driving kids all over the county, watering a parched veggie bed twice a day and mopping up cat pee (don't ask!), I was glad to escape and chill over the needles.

I am hoping to do more, although as I've finally planned a few days away (for the first time in 2yrs) I suspect that laundry and packing will take over my life this weekend. We're heading over the border to Canada on Monday followed next Saturday by a whistle stop trip to California for DD1 and I. I'm going to be busy.

Packing for five is no joke either. When the kids were small we resembled an army on military manoeuvres whenever we all left town! Now we no longer have to take half a hundred weight of nappies (diapers) with us, things have improved, although teenage girls on tour are not to be messed with, especially in the clothes department. When we were first married, P.A. used to complain that I took so much stuff when I travelled. Oh, how times have changed. Now I gladly leave the kitchen sink behind and can makedo with what commonly passes here in the US for hand luggage. Instead the girls have taken up my space in the trunk of the car with 'goodness only knows what.' Thank goodness we have a minivan!

Even if the girls do manage to do their own washing these days, it's pretty inevitable that we'll all need to use the laundry machine at the same time. Perhaps if I'm really quick, I could get a load or two on before they start jostling for the 'casual/permanent press' button? Do you think 6.30am is a totally unreasonable time to start the machine? Hmmmm, maybe I'll just chill with those needles and enjoy the quiet for a little longer.

See you soon!

Summer Projects

Well my projects this summer have not been of the knitting variety. Sad to say, I have not picked up my needles for over a week. It is all because I have needed to work on that 'To Do' list that I planned at the beginning of the year. Starting to paint our house has been this year's major project. You see, we think that it hasn't been done since it was built 16yrs ago!

You can imagine what condition the walls are in by now. Thankfully nothing is peeling, but they really are so dry that just one whiff of emulsion and they cry out for attention. To say they are thirsty is an understatement.

So this week, while my girls were away, I tackled the last of the kids bedrooms. DD2 was the lucky recipient, after all, I just couldn't pass up the chance of having a spare room to put all her stuff into and no one to rehouse in someone elses room during the process. It was a golden opportunity.

It was also hard work. The walls were full of pin holes that had to be filled and sanded. Then the entire room (including the closet) was daubed with basecoat and finally, several days later, I started painting the ceiling. It was backbreaking work even with my trusty roller taped with duct tape to the top of a mop handle. By the end of the day my legs ached from running up and down the ladder and the stairs. My feet were also so sore from walking barefoot on plastic, that I swear I was going lame. By Saturday I enlisted P.A's help to paint the final two walls green.

Yesterday we started moving the furniture back in. It was just like doing a Makeover TV show as we counted down the hours until the girls would arrive home. Such a shame that they arrived back from New Orleans in the early hours of the morning, so I haven't seen them yet. Still, I know DD2 will love it. At last her American bedroom is truly hers and I can tick another project off that giant list!

Driver's Ed

Well, I still haven't had time to pick up the needles. There have just been too many other projects going on that require my attention. It's not easy. Summer is the time for birthdays in our house, so there has been cake baking, parties, outings and ofcourse the ongoing experience known here as Driver's Ed.

The latter has been quite enlightening. It's our first time. We're complete novices, so as usual DD1 has been the guinea pig. We've experienced the usual 'foreigner-in-a-foreign-land' unspoken rules. You know, all those things that you're just supposed to just know. The main unspoken truth was that as soon as your child gets their permit you can put them behind the wheel.

No one mentioned that at the DOL. No one mentioned that at the parent's evening. Even the insurance company (whom we had to pester to know whether they would accept our foreign driving experience as part of the 5yrs that the parent has to have been driving) didn't mention it. We were supposed to just know. Consequently DD1 arrived at class having had a quick lesson in a car park from yours truly the night before and was required to drive around town on her first day! Scary! Once I'd got over the shock that my child had survived to tell the tale, all I could think was, "Thank goodness it's an automatic."

Thankfully she has succeeded and 4 weeks later has passed Driver's Ed.

Her father and I are now also fully trained in the art of teaching teenagers to drive. We no longer grip the passenger seat as she takes a corner too hard or involuntarily lean in towards her, eyes round with fear, as she passes a line of parked cars. Our feet have stopped trying to brake as she tailgates the car in front and our hands no longer sit in our laps clenched into sweaty balls. Indeed you could say that we are now graduates of "Passenger's Ed"!!

The arguments were also few and far between. For once our authority and superior experience were accepted without question. The realisation that passing meant 'sucking up to the olds in a big way' led to relative peace and harmony inside the vehicle. In fact, we now have 5 more months of potential behaviour modification powers before she takes her test. This should be good for some SERIOUS help at home. Success is, after all, still dependent on enough practice and that in turn is determined by us.

Ah, what it is to have power!

Lipstick

I always know when life has spiralled out of control because I start leaving the house without putting on any lipstick. Don't get me wrong I'm not a vermillion lipped diva with a Marilyn-style pout, but I do normally manage to at least slap on some lipgloss before I race out of the door in the mornings.

Recently I've been jumping into the car in a mild state of undress. I've managed to make sure that I've had my clothes on (although I will confess to having looked down to check that I am actually wearing trousers and not my P.J's!), but my lips have been totally naked.

Now I'm one of those people whose face looks instantly transformed by a quick swipe with a pale pink stick of Cover Girl (or whatever I happen to have open.) I instantly look 'dressed' when my lips are coloured, no matter how little other make-up I've used. I usually manage a spot of eyeliner and some mascara too, but the lips just seem to 'do it.'

Sadly, I have now become so busy that nakedness has been the order of the day in the lip department. I am achieving things, so it's not all bad, but I'm beginning to look like the wreck of the Hesparus in the process! It's my fault really. This is what happens when you have 3 children instead of the standard 2.2 or whatever the latest government statistic is. It's only when you finally hold number 3 in your arms that you realise that you just relegated number 1 to the crook of your leg when it comes to the heirachy of family hugs. Suddenly two arms are no longer enough and when they all want a cuddle at the same time, you have to learn to hug one of them with your leg!

Granted my oldest two are now beyond the age of competitive hugging, but they make up for it in other ways. They're quite happy to wait until I'm available before they claim their cuddle, but when it comes to hogging all their parent's attention, teens and American culture conspire to turn the tables on younger siblings. Suddenly 'the nipper' is forced back into his/her rightful place as 3rd in line to the Mamma Bear and the Mamma Bear knows it. She longs to spend time with number 3, but preparing number 1 for life in the big, wide world takes all her time.

This is the point I have reached now. I've made great headway this summer; The Little Guy has a newly painted room, DD1 is becoming a 'good' driver and both girls are about to leap out into the world alone next week on a trip of a lifetime to the National Lutheran Youth Gathering in New Orleans. But I miss spending one on one time with my son.

This past year with two kids in High School was so busy that I felt he was becoming overlooked. I longed for the summer, so that we could hang out together, but the demands of a High School Senior are encroaching on our time. Knitting has been all but forgotten in the chaos of life, but as much as it pains me to sideline my obsession, I don't really mind. Finding time for The Little Guy is the most important thing right now.

To that end we've borrowed a book from the library called "Lunch Money" by Andrew Clements. I'm reading it to him. We're finding quiet places to go in the house or the garden, where we can just sunggle and read. Hopefully it'll give us that time together that we both crave.

Seeing Red

It seems that I've fallen into a summer schedule whether I intended to or not. Please check back regularly for updates which I will post 'as and when' (but at least once a week.) Although summer should be a time of R&R (don't worry, I have penciled in some time for that), mine has turned into an onslaught of Driving and DIY.

Well, my wonderful weekend of knitting really was a weekend of knitting but wasn't so wonderful. I enjoyed a couple of hours on Saturday starting off my Swallowtail Shawl. DD2 on the other hand, spent her time ripping back her first attempt. With increasing frustration, she has declared her Knit Picks Shadow a 'no-go' yarn and thrown the whole project into the corner of her room in disgust.

She'd been doing fine, but then realised that she had too many stitches and when she tried to frog back, the rather delicate, fuzzy yarn got so knotted up that it broke....several times. Patience was not in her vocabulary and, eyeing my small piece of work, she warned me that the going might get tough.

It did.

On Sunday, I went back to my two inches of work only to discover that I too had created way too many stitches on my second lot of 6 rows in the Budding Lace Pattern. Determined to be more patient than my offspring, I frogged back to row 6 and attempted to start again. Two rows in and I again had too many stitches.

I went to Ravelry.

Reading the comments listed for the Swallowtail Shawl written by fellow Ravellers, I found Kim at "Musings Of The Fuzzy Kind". Having sat there doing the math trying to work out how many stitches I should have after each pattern row, I discovered that Kim has already done the job. She has made a PDF called "The Swallowtail Mileage Sheet" which lists the number of stitches for each row for the entire 14 repeats of the Budding Lace Pattern. Invaluable!

Despite trying to frog delicately back, I eventually decided that I'd actually done so little that I might as well just rip out the whole thing and start again. So I did. Late last night I reached the second repeat of the Budding Lace Pattern.....and made the same mistakes over again. In complete and utter frustration, I turned to the chart to see if that would shed more light on the issue than the written instructions. And do you know what? It did!

Just before I went to bed, the penny dropped. From studying the chart, I realised that I'd been repeating the entire section between the stars instead of just the 6-stitch repeat! That was how I was ending up with too many stitches.

Duh! Dunderhead!!

There is now a chance that I will get beyond the first repeat of this lace shawl and who knows, maybe once I do, I'll persuade DD2 to take the journey with me again.

I'd Love To Knit, But....................

Now I know that this is the same picture that I posted on Monday, but don't worry, you're not having a Groundhog Day experience. It is the same picture because, to put it simply, I have not knitted a stitch since Sunday!

I know, it's beyond comprehension isn't it. How on earth am I managing to survive, you're thinking? Well, I have to tell you, I'M HANGING ON BY A THREAD! (excuse the pun.)

The withdrawal symptoms started yesterday. I swear that I was shaking uncontrollably as I got out of the car in the afternoon, although that could have had something to do with my 'car-crazed' teen who was driving. This first week of Driver's Ed has completely taken over my life. Never have I needed to knit so much and yet never have I been so strapped for time.

To relieve my stress, I've been compelled to paint The Little Guy's bedroom. This project is coming along famously, it's just the assortment of toys and trash that his room has disgorged that's the problem. Climbing over an extra nightstand, three boxes of stuffed animals and a model aeroplane to get into my bed every night does nothing to quieten the mind at the end of a long day. I fall asleep aching and exhausted dreaming of traffic cones and kids in diapers driving high speed vehicles.

Fully aware of my present state of mind, DD2 has wisely suggested that we wait until the painting is done before we begin our Swallowtail Shawl KAL. Thank goodness someone is talking sense right now. It's certainly uplifting to have a pal who understands your pain; someone who doesn't Cast On in front of you; someone who is sensitive enough to take their own knitting to a babysitting gig and afterwards refrain from proudly showing you how much they've accomplished.

Although she's only been knitting for a year, DD2's become an amazingly astute knitter. Somehow she just seems to know when to usher me up to my room, place my knitting bag at my feet and say;

"Here, Mum. Knit!"

Knitting - An Extreme Sport?

I'm suffering. It started when I woke up yesterday, the niggling ache at the base of my spine. Then, in less than 12hrs, my body went from age 43 to age 93! Honestly, aside from the clothing (I am still youthful in some aspects,) I wouldn't look out of place behind one of those zimmerframes with the off-road wheels that seem to be all the rage amongst the elderly these days.

I haven't a clue what I've done this time, but sometimes this just happens. The family are being their usual sympathetic selves (I don't think!) and P.A. even suggested that I may have injured my back by doing TOO MUCH KNITTING.

Now where on earth did he get that one from? Since when was knitting considered an extreme sport? Let's face it, the way I look right now, people are bound to assume that I've either been basejumping, ice climbing or free running (Parkour) not cleaning my house (although that feels like an extreme sport at times) and knitting a summer top.

However, on further investigation I have discovered that knitting does bear some resemblance to a hard core sport. Wikipedia says that extreme sports "often involve speed, height, high level of physical exertion and highly specialized gear or spectacular stunts." I think that just about covers knitting, don't you?

Take speed for example. Some knitters can knit so fast that their needles just become a blur. Hazel Tindell and Miriam Tegels are the world's fastest knitters. Take a look at this!

Then there's "height". Seeing as there are, at this moment, hundreds of Nepalese women handknitting products for small handicraft companies right there in the Himalayas, I think they've pretty well got the height issue covered. Plus, there's all of those Peruvian knitters creating knitted masterpieces at altitude too. Height? Yup, we knitters have that one sussed!

Now "the high level of physical exertion" aspect is slightly more subjective, don't you think? We're all different. A high level for one is just a walk in the park to another. But, if you qualify physical exertion by number of injuries, I think we can also take on the best of them there too. The fact that we even have to consider ergonomics when it comes to knitting, shows that we're right up there with cycling , basejumping (ergonomic bags are a must) and kite surfing.

"Highly specialized gear" - well, this one's obvious, just look at all the needles out there. Cable needles, square ones, circulars, different lengths and thicknesses of each, you really can't get more 'specialized' in the equipment department than that. As for "stunts", well C6B,C6F looks pretty impressive to me not to mention the art of double knitting. The greatest knitting stunt I've ever seen was someone knitting two socks at once, but one inside the other. (Peacework Magazine had a good article on this back in January.)

So, on reflection, I think P.A. may have been on to something when he put my back troubles down to my fibre fascination. Knitting could be said to be a specialized, urban athletic pursuit, although I put my back troubles down to the consequences of childbirth. Having had three children without the aid of medical intervention, well that really is an extreme sport!

SAT's, Stress & The Swatch

So, it's time for true confessions. Yes, you were right, I do have the attention span of a gnat when it comes to yarn. Yes, I admit, I struggle to stay within the realms of normality when a newly blocked swatch is staring at me. Ok, I know, I shouldn't have, but it really was sooooo exciting to see how the swatch looked once it was washed and the feel of the finished piece of fabric was so intoxicating that I just had to......................cast on!

After all, I did have the pattern right there in front of me and even if I couldn't get the scanner to work so that I had a working copy to carry around with me, it wasn't too much of a hardship to cart the entire magazine around instead. Yes, I succumbed. I took a few days off from the bathroom curtain and cast on for the Lacy Ribbed Top that I swatched for last week. I know, I'm weak.

Actually, in my defense I'm citing stress.

Saturday DD1 sat the infamous SAT's - yes, those college entrance exams that we have been hearing about ever since we arrived in the US when she was halfway through 7th grade. Having had the test date hanging over our heads since last September, the dreaded day finally arrived.

For the past year I have been inundated with cold calls from companies trying to blackmail me into buying their SAT Prep products. For a mere $300 I could ensure that my love for my daughter would be adequately exhibited by making sure that she had all the 'essential' prep tools she needed.

I bought her two books from Amazon that are the size of our front steps!

My role on the day was to make sure that she arrived at the test centre on time. Thank heaven for Google Maps. I ran a search the night before and using the satellite version, planned and drove my route virtually as if I was preparing for a military operation. It paid off. We cruised into the car park of a High School that we'd never been to before early enough to allow peace and calm to prevail. It was a miracle.

I'd made a conscious effort all the way to remain calm and zen-like in order to counteract the increasingly distressed vibe eminating from my offspring. By the time I got home though, I needed coffee! It's hard work meditating for two not to mention trying to keep your eyes open at 7am on a Saturday morning.

I thought about her all the time. Nothing I did could distract me from it, so I gave up and started knitting. When it was time to head back to the test centre I put my sleeve stitches on holders, drove there, then picked up my top again and set to work. I listened to one of my favourite podcasts, "This American Life" and waited.............and waited. Suddenly teenagers streamed out of the High School along with a huge air of relief (and tiredness.) It was over.

I replaced my point protectors, marked my round and we drove home.

I looked at my daughter that day and saw that a great weight had lifted from her. It seems such a short while ago that we'd never even heard of the SAT's (in fact it's taken us several years to work out exactly what they are.) When she was 12, she was using Norwegian as her first language every day; speaking, reading and writing it at school. Now, just over four years later, she has taken critical reading and writing in English on the SAT's.

I'm immensely proud of her.

I've also forgiven myself for casting on yet another project. I think this will turn out to be a special one because it marks a major milestone in my daughter's life. I hope I'll think of her whenever I wear it. There's just one possible problem.

I may run out of yarn.

Feelin' Hot!

It's hot!

Yesterday we hit the dizzy heights of 88F, not much for some of you I know, but this is the Pacific NW. We have literally only just emerged from the depths of winter. My feet have been encased in woolly socks right up until about 2 weeks ago (in fact, come to think of it, my Broadripples could still be laying in a heap on the bathroom floor.)

Thankfully we got our pool up over the Memorial holiday weekend which has turned out to be perfect timing. As soon as the kids get home from school, they want to get straight in. The nights are another matter though. A house devoid of air conditioning at a time like this is no fun and makes you long for cool European cottages built from stone. Wood is great when you need flexible building materials to cope with the odd earthquake that tends to hit when you live on a fault line, but you can't beat grey stone in a heat wave.

The sudden warm weather has also led to bare leg syndrome. Yes, I have finally got out of trousers and even braved it and wore a skirt last week. I was lucky enough to get a new one in a recent sale and hastily threw it on as I raced off to attend DD2's final band concert. It was only as I was walking across the road in the late evening sunshine, that I realised that something might be amiss. A truck driver at the traffic lights was giving me a very strange stare as I passed in front of his vehicle. Glancing down I realised to my horror that my lovely new skirt was entirely see through!

I turned every shade of pink imaginable and spent the rest of the evening avoiding any kind of back lighting!

I now have an extra project to add to my to do list. I have bought several lengths of white cotton muslin and some elastic so that I can make what we used to call in England, a petticoat. This was a demure little underskirt that any and every self respecting woman had in her wardrobe, in fact she often had several. For fear that she would be deemed a woman of 'loose' or 'easy' virtue, every real 'lady' wore a petticoat or slip under her dress. This allowed her to move freely in any given situation without the fear of inadvertently showing off the shape of her legs and arousing unwanted male interest.

What a pity they don't sell them in the shops any more (petticoats not unwanted males.)

The Stash Is Under Attack

No, it's not an infestation of the dreaded moths or any other creepy crawly insect with a taste for yarn. No, it seems that my stash is under siege from The Family!

It started on Saturday when DD2 (SusieLusie) caught sight of that Harmony sitting in a ziploc bag on my rocker. If I'd been sensible, I'd have stuffed it into the depths of my hoard as soon as it had had its rock star moment in front of the camera, but no, I was still dreamily contemplating its future as a top notch lace product, so there it still was, on show for all to see.

It was love at first sight.

She took it out of the ziploc, fondled it and admired its colour and yardage, well, like a fully fledged yarnie really. How quickly these things catch on. It was only last summer that she was asking me, "Mum, how do I purl?" and now here she is caressing Jojoland as if she was, well, 'born to it!'

I guess this is what happens when a yarnaholic begets another yarnaholic. You think it's oh, so wonderful to have someone in your immediately family who truly understands your fiber fascination, who totally gets it. Oh the joy of a shared mother/daughter bond as you take a trip to the local LYS to check out their latest aquisitions; the pleasure of having someone else who also 'feels the love' as they fondle Filatura. If only it were that simple. No there are those dark moments that creep into all relationships when someone else covets your stash and, fearing for its survival, you have to find a new hiding place for it.

She spent the day trying to bribe me with Kid Mohair. She knew I'd liked the two skeins she'd scored at the spinner's sale last month and was keen to use that leverage. So far I've held out, but I'm not sure how much longer I'll last. The deep lilacs of that lace weight have been winking at me from across the room and begging to be swapped. I'd close my eyes, but my fingers are the problem!

I took her to our LYS in the hope she'd find something else and my Harmony would be saved. We snuck out of the house leaving a hastily scribbled note on P.A.'s workbench. It read, "Gone to the yarn store" and in brackets "(sorry)." Staring temptation in the face by deliberately walking into Aladdin's cave was likely to result in Oscar Mayer Weiners for dinner instead of barbequed chicken. I felt a touch of remorse.

DD2 was flush with cash from a recent babysitting gig and keen to increase her stash of lace yarn. I tried to find a balance between knitterly interest and self-preservation as we perused the Kid Seta and rifled through the Rowan. After a while I sort sanctuary at the large wooden work table in the middle of the shop where the owner was working on a summer top.

Big mistake. She's good at her job. The top was lace and as she passed me a skein of the yarn she was using, I found myself touching an 80% silk, 20% cotton combo. It was to die for! It took all of my rapidly fading will power to resist the urge to pop a few skeins up to the cash register to enhance my stash a little more. Thankfully the prospect of Oscar Mayer Weiners in my immediate future was enough to frighten me into sobriety. I sat on my hands.

Feeling immensely proud of myself for actually walking into a yarn store and leaving empty handed, we headed back home for a spot of lemonade and a discussion about DD2's purchases. The shared interest thing was a true pleasure once again. As she left to store her new yarn somewhere where I wouldn't find it, P.A. came out with a suggestion that left me reeling in shock:

Could some of the yarn budget be used to buy wine!

"Yarn budget? What yarn budget?" I countered.

"Well, I just thought....." he started, realising that he was perhaps on shaky ground.

"I just walked into a yarn store and didn't buy a thing!" I replied, utterly incredulous that this man could not understand how much fortitude it had taken to do that. Did he really not undertsand just how close he'd come to grilling Oscar Mayer Weiners on Memorial weekend?

"I don't believe you," he said, with a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Shitake mushrooms! He was enjoying this.

"Honestly," I replied, trying to convince him that he should actually be very proud of me. "I didn't buy a thing!"

"Well, I just thought....a few bottles on the rack......."

A few bottles on the rack, I thought. That leads to cases and that leads to cruising wineries. I know how these things are. Wine, yarn, wine, yarn - I was weighing it up in my head. The idea of a cold Chablis on a warm sunny day was pretty compelling, but so was a skein of prized quiviut or a ball or two of alpaca. What do you get at the end of it too; an empty bottle and a hangover or an heirloom lace shawl? In my mind there was no contest. It would be nice to have both, but I didn't hold out much hope for the heirloom lace shawl if I'd already consumed the bottle of Chablis. Frankly this was a no-brainer.

"Sorry, mate," I replied.

Shaking my head and smiling sweetly, I handed him a bottle of beer.

LYS Tour 2009

This weekend it was the annual LYS tour here in the Puget Sound area. It's like a pub crawl only with a lot of yarn involved instead of alcohol - equally as intoxicating though! The yarn crawl involves whizzing from one LYS to another during four days of pure indulgence. Along the way there are discounts, gifts and stamps to collect in your official passport which, if completed, enters you into a draw for yet more yarnaholic delights.

You'll be pleased to know that, under the present circumstances, I resisted the temptation to take part in the full blown fiber frolic and instead contented myself with one yarn store visit.

Yesterday was Norwegian National Day, so as usual we had planned a family outing to the annual parade in Seattle. Now, last year I happened to discover that the very car park we use to park in when we're down there, just happens to be right next to a yarn shop! What a happy coincidence. Having ducked my head inside quickly last year, I vowed that this time we would leave early enough to make a prolonged visit 'a plan.'

We did.

The Darling Daughter's and I spent a good 45 minutes 'petting' everything from Cascade Pima Tencel to Kid Seta. Meanwhile harried knitters flew in and out getting their passports stamped, snapping up the free knitting patterns and pausing just long enough to 'pet the peruvian!'

I blame the heat - it must have been over 75F outside and we have had a particularly hard winter.

With time marching on and some anniversary cash in my pocket from P.A, I finally settled on 2 skeins of Misti Alpaca in a candy pink shade. I'd drooled over some gorgeous Cascade 220 in a beautiful royal blue and stroked some Manos Del Uruguay in a deep red, but the pull of that lace phase I'm going through was just too strong.

As we emerged into the full heat of the day and made our way down towards the parade route, we were also excited by the prospect of meeting up with some old friends from our time in Norway. As special guests in this years parade and with a packed schedule, we would only have a few moments with them though.

Meeting up was easy, parting was hard. Imagine my joy though when they both presented me with bags full of Norwegian yarn that they'd de-stashed especially for me! There was Lanett, Silja and Wilma by Sandnesgarn and Falk from Dalegarn. I was so excited that it was all I could do not to pull some needles out of my handbag and get started straight away.

At the end of the day, we wended our way back to the car weighed down with folding chairs and bags of wool. Thanks to the kindness of old friends, our weekend LYS Tour could truly by entitled "Destination Yarn!"

Anniversary

Today P.A. and I have been married for 20 years. Quite an achievement really, it's almost half of my life. In fact it's very strange to think that I have indeed known this man for half of my life. We honestly feel no different from the way we did all those years ago. If it wasn't for the three children and the few grey hairs we've acquired along the way...oh, and the few extra pounds around the middle........then we'd still think we were in our 20's.

Instead we have teenagers to keep us in check with their "Oh, Mum, do you really have to do that?" or "Dad! You just don't understand!" (Oh, how I'd love to strap on my inline skates and zoom off down the local bike trail without having to worry about their street cred!)

Yes, we've reached the age of embarrassment.

Thankfully we are no longer an embarrassment to the older generation. In appreciation of our marital milestone we received this surprise gift from my mum and step-dad. Entitled "Breakfast In Bed" by Wine Country Gifts, it's the perfect present for two people trying to recapture their youth!

Garden Glory

I had a great Mother's Day. I spent it with my family doing the two things that I enjoy the most, knitting and gardening. These days I seem to love any pursuit that has a kind of built in zen element to it - I guess you'd call them 'meditative' activities. When I'm knitting a lace scarf (and not listening to a podcast at the same time), I'm zoning out of the here and now and tuning into my needles. It's the same with the garden. My focus becomes the plants, their position in the soil, the quality of the soil itself in fact.......... Then a strange thing happens. I feel peaceful.

Communing with nature soothes my soul much like knitting does. These are also the elements that I love about yoga and Tai Chi. Not that I'm about to stretch into Downward Dog while I'm planting potatoes ofcourse, gardening is enough of a workout in itself, but the sense of calm that I feel after my green-fingered pursuits is just the same.

I also love to repurpose items for the garden. A couple of years ago our old mail box was replaced with a smart new one with a key. Not wanting to get rid of what was to me (a foreigner used to a hole in her front door for the letters to go through) an example of American culture and future antique, I repurposed it as a planter. I painted a Norwegian design on the front and planted it up with flowers the first year; this year it's strawberries.

Over the weekend I got my seedlings all planted up. I'd been hardening them off all week, so I was ready to begin the big plant out. I even managed to swap a few for some broccoli and cucumber starts, so now I've got a whole host of stuff to try to maintain this year. Thankfully the young kids in the neighbourhood find it all very exciting and were on hand to water everything in after I had planted it up last night. My Little Guy was proud as punch to be back to watering the veggies again. Let's hope his enthusiasm doesn't wane before the season's out!

When The Going Gets Tough........

...................the tough cast on lace. I know, only a mad woman would consider casting on for a lace project when all around her seems to be falling apart, but........what can I say? When I need comfort, I run to my knitting and hiding in a project which challenges me with YO's, SSK's and K2tog's has been just the therapy I need. I was even brave enough to take it to my knitting group yesterday. Obviously, I wasn't full of conversation, after all I had a lace chart on my lap, but listening to everyone else's jolly banter perked me up no end.

I've been wanting to tackle some lace for a while and so I have CO with some KnitPicks Palette from my stash. The colour is totally 'me' ofcourse and it seems to be knitting up a treat. I'm enjoying hiding in my 'Mist' Lace Scarf project and avoiding the knot in my stomach created by the fact that my husband is about to lose the job that we moved halfway round the world to take up just over 4yrs ago.

Perhaps lace is the perfect project for a situation like this. Maybe gauge is not such an issue as it is with stockinette or garter stitch? Controlling the tension of your needles as you run the full gamut of emotions that possible unemployment throws at you (with loss of medical insurance and everything that that entails) is perhaps easier with lacework? Who knows? All I know is, it's working for me! Every time I feel that lump leaping up to grab my throat, or that anger threatening to harden my heart, I reach for my lace scarf and knit.

Right now, I'm very glad I'm a knitter.

Podcast

Hurrah! David Reidy was back from his recent break this week with more "Sticks & String." I haven't been listening for long, but I've already discovered that I love this podcast. David's calm, natural style in front of the microphone and his soothing use of folk music, make this show a total pleasure to the ear (his Aussie accent does no harm either!)

I suddenly realised yesterday that it was the beginning of May (I think it was paying the bills that did it!) which meant that the latest series of "Sticks & String" would have been broadcast last Sunday. I raced to iTunes, downloaded the show to my iPod and then proceeded to tune out the sibling rivalry going on around me while I tackled the mountain of ironing (formerly known as Everest) which lay before me.

Never has the ironing been quite so enjoyable.

I was instantly transported to Australia where I attended the Sydney Royal Easter Show and learned a lot about how not to hang knitting exhibits! I also discovered what makes the Blue Mountains look blue.

As David uttered his closing knitting slogan, "Carpe Lanum," (sieze the wool) I finished the last of the days ironing and set the iron to cool down again. I unplugged my earbuds and found myself abruptly back in the world of teenage angst and Littlebrotheritis.

It had been a pleasant interlude.