What the Knitter Wears to Vote

Like many Americans, I am quite anxious about the upcoming election. As a matter of fact, this is the first election that I've ever really worried about. I feel powerless. My one little vote seems so pathetic, yet there is little I can do now but wait and see what happens.

To get my mind off the election while worrying about it, I have concocted an Election Cap. I think you can find a lot of K's on it, but probably not any B's. Do you think it's too subtle?

I had the short-row circle on my mind from the glove fiasco, so I thought I might as well put it on my brain, starting the whole cap off. In the center I gathered up all the stitches, decreased them and knit one row of I-Cord, then bound it off. Kind of looks like an.... election button... don't you think?

One more picture of the Election Cap, properly modeled by this jar of decorative fruit slices; seeming to say

Orange You Going to Vote for Kerry?

I don't know how the cap will end, just as I don't know how the election will end. Will it be straight down and to the point? Will it ruffle around, waving back and forth until after Thansgiving? Will it have a proper brim that is stiff and secure? These and other questions may or may not be answered on Tuesday, November 2. Don't forget to vote if you are an American, and don't forget to pray if you aren't.

Glitchbrain Explodes Again

Here begins another tale of travel through the Glitchbrain experience and why it ends up producing nothing.

arly in the day on Thursday, October 28th, Mme. G. went downstairs, feeling out of sorts for no particular reason. She carried with her one of her signature blue Pfaltzgraff glasses, the largest she has ever found, from which she frequently drinks and which the pets have learned to look for as an alternate source of the thirst-quenching goodness of water.

Selecting a coaster from the little wire rack, she admired its wooden roundness against the palm of her hand before she set it down and gave it something to care for. The roundness, she saw-- in particular, the top of the roundness-- coincided almost precisely with the alignment of her fingers as they left the main hand.

Sparks flew inside Glitchbrain as she was struck by the meaning of this observation. Why, one could knit a circle... no, two circles, one for the palm and one for the back of the hand, then knit fingers and a thumb, and one would have-- a glove! A glove that was unique, a glove that would fit like no other glove in the universe, a glove that would be fun to make!

Thinking about this, she considered how the circle should be made. The Emily Ocker beginning would put a dense little circle in the center of the palm. This screamed of crucifixion, and did not seem to be a good selection. Aha! What if you made a two-needle short-row circle? You wouldn't have to use tiny dpns in the round, and the circle would be more easily malleable into a palm shape when you started attaching protrusions for fingers!

She found some random 2-ply yarn and cast on 14 stitches. After creating one wedge, she saw that the circle would be too large, so she started over with 10 stitches. This was just right. As she worked she realized that when half of the circle was done, she could simply knit across the whole diameter (because she had used an invisible cast-on) and knit the bottom of the hand in a more traditional manner, meaning that the expected problems with the circularity at the bottom of the hand were dispensed with before they ever happened. Glitchbrain was on a roll.

She finished the first half of the properly sized circle and began to contemplate fingers. But wait! What if, while knitting the circle, she knit the fingers attached at the proper points? By looking at the top of the circle against her hand, she saw that the first wedge would be the side, and the pinkie would begin with the beginning of the second wedge (there are eight wedges in a full short-row garter-stitch circle).

She cast on a third time, and when she got to the second wedge, she cast on another 14 stitches for the pinkie and continued. By the time she had what she thought was a half-finger in garter stitch, the Glitchbrain had wandered yet again. What if, instead of casting on 14 stitches for a pinkie, you cast on 28 stitches for both halves of the pinkie, to be grafted together along the sides later, and also an additional 10 stitches for the other side of the hand? Then you could work the whole glove as one piece and you would not have to worry about grafting finger tips, which weakens them.

This is where Glitchbrain exploded. We could not handle the exploration into that territory. Frantically, we searched out other means of divertisement from the Latest Idea. Oh, look! If you look at the back of your hand, you see the tendons that look like they radiate from the center of a circle! So, the center of the circle would be.... right down there in the middle of your wrist. So, really, your half circle should begin at your wrist, and the last wedge would cover your thumb, which means that....

Do you see how I suffer?

I put my needles down and carefully walked away. Oh sure, that glove design could be perfect and wonderful and revolutionize all glove knitting for the future. But maybe someone else can make it happen. Ze leetle gray cell, she eez tired.

I did this instead. One-inch domino squares from pretty Koigu. Totally useless but very pretty.

Sherlock Gets a Sweater

It turned cold here today, and the weatherman predicted it would be in the 30's last night. Poor little Sherlock looked at me with his big brown eyes and I swear asked me for a sweater.

So I scrounged up some red Rowan Chunky Tweed and some black Lamb's Pride and, partially guided by the Dogs in Knits book, made him a Sherlock coat.

It fits well, although it could have been made longer. He seems to like it as far as I can tell-- he isn't trying to get it off! Ginger is very curious about this. I think she's a little jealous.

I'm pretty tired, maybe I'll add more to this tomorrow morning. I wasn't thrilled with the pattern, it was very hard to understand.

Time for a martini, methinks!

update:

Caroline has sharp eyes for detail! I wrote this entry last night, on the 27th, but since I had already written an entry for the 27th I changed the date to the 28th, so that it won't disappear from the main page for a couple of days.

Anyway, about the dog sweater pattern. I used the "Native American-Inspired Blanket Sweater" pattern from the Dogs In Knits book by Judith L. Swartz (no relation to Felina). It calls for Manos del Uruguay, at 4 stitches per inch, but I used Rowan Chunky Tweed at 3 stitches per inch and eyeballed the stitch count. It also has an intarsia pattern, but we didn't want that. What we did like was the applied I-cord borders.

The pattern was fine until the instructions for finishing. The use of such terms as "lower edge of back", "side edges of back", etc were ambiguous. Did she mean as the sweater sat on the dog, or as the illustration showed it, or what? Every time I thought I understood what she meant, the directions contradicted me. You'd think it was straightforward, maybe it was just me.

Also, the instructions had you knit two inches of I-cord before starting to attach it to the sweater, which ultimately left you with four 2-inch sections of I-cord for-- what? It looked wrong, had no purpose, and so I omitted it and just sewed the ends of the finished I-cord together.

Lastly, attaching a highly contrasting color of I-cord to the body of a sweater will not be pretty-- unless!! Unless you use Joyce Williams' great technique as described in Sweaters From Camp: Knit two stitches (of your 3-stitch I-cord), slip the 3rd, YO, Knit the picked-up stitch from the body of the sweater, then slip the prior two stitches over. The YO hides the body color glitch. I couldn't get the books' I-cord instructions to work for me, though I tried.

As far as the shape of the sweater, it's pretty good. However, for the next one I will just make a diamond-shaped panel for the chest, and make the underneath strip much narrower. Instead of attaching the underpanel directly to the upper one after the opening for the leg, I attached another I-cord strip that jumped the gap so that Sherlock has plenty of movement ability. He can still run, jump, dance and play as if he were only wearing only his own skin.

So I finished something else. Why am I so cranky about it? Is it because of the instructions, or because I killed my wrists on the chunky yarn and big needles? Next dog sweater will be soft, very soft. And on size 6 or smaller needles!

Authentic Southern Cornbread

Few people outside of the south seem to know what real cornbread is or how to make it. Restaurants serve it sweet, with something sticky on top, probably honey. That just isn't right. Real cornbread is a staple, a basic bread to go along with your down home meal. It is used to sop up the gravy from black-eyed and purple-hull peas. You put butter on it but nothing else. You can, like my Daddy, put it in a glass and pour milk over it --especially if it is a day old.

Here's how to make it:

Use a 10-inch iron skillet that is well-seasoned. (This means it is black. If you have a new iron skillet, rub lard into it and put it in the oven. Repeat until it is seasoned. Don't ever put your skillet in the dishwasher or leave it to soak, or it will rust.)

Use real hog lard. If you just can't do that, then use Crisco, but it won't be authentic cornbread.

Using a large serving spoon, dip a spoonful of lard and put it into the skillet. Turn the oven on at 425 degrees and put the skillet into the oven.

While the skillet is getting hot, assemble the rest of the ingredients.

In a medium bowl, pour 3/4 c of whole milk and one egg. Mix thoroughly with a fork-- not an eggbeater.

Add about 3/4 c of yellow cornmeal, 1/2 c of all-purpose flour, a tablespoon of baking powder, a tablespoon of sugar (no more!) and 1/2 teaspoon of salt.

Mix until all ingredients are moistened; the batter will be lumpy.

By this time your lard should be pretty hot. It should sizzle but not be burnt. Being careful not to burn yourself, use a thick hotpad to remove the skillet from the oven. Pour the lard into the cornbread mixture and set the skillet down on a burn-proof surface.

Mix the hot lard into the cornbread batter just enough to blend it, then pour the batter into the skillet.

Bake for about 20 minutes. The edges will be dark brown and the top a golden brown. Remove from the oven and immediately turn upside down onto a plate. Cut into wedges and serve hot with butter.

The Lawrence Welt Show

I can scarcely believe it. It was one thing to finish a small work in progress yesterday, but to start and finish yet another thing the very next day is... well... utterly unheard of!

The Lawrence Welt Hat is complete, and sits drying on its inverted bowl. As you may recall, I was challenged by Felina to create something using the green handspun as a "welt" because there was less than 50 yards of it. It was fun to skip around the house looking for other yarns that would be perfect-- not just good, but perfect-- with the handspun.

I ended up using some of the handpainted wool and mohair that I purchased at MS&W two years ago-- it's Dancing Leaf Farms' Soft & Shiny, in the Briar Patch colorway. I threw in some of an Anny Blatt designer mohair that I've had for a while, and some no-name tweed, possibly Donegal or Rowan. I couldn't be more pleased with the result. Unfortunately, out of all the hat shapes in the world, this is almost the only one that isn't flattering to me. But I don't care. I need a nice warm hat for walking, and this one is very soft and very warm and the colors are beautiful together. Thank you, Felina, for the challenge!

Another String Theory

Have I ever told you about my Theory of Vibration? Although I don't apply the TOV enough, I believe that for people like me who suffer from depression all their lives, a key ingredient in the elusive super cure is a good dose of vibration daily. Now get your minds out of the gutter, people. I'm talking music. Not on-the-stereo-or-radio canned music, but live music in which the sound waves are close and effective and prolonged.

I believe this because of my history with the piano. I have found that during periods of time (years or months) in which I consistently practice the piano, I feel better. The years in Colorado when I studied with Frank Cedrone* were the best ones for me physically, despite the fact that I had three children under five, taught 30 piano students, and went to college part time.

Even though I support the theory, I don't practice it nearly enough(pun intended). But recently I purchased a copy of Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue annotated by Alice Zizzo and I am attempting to get myself back into pianistic shape. I feel better already. If you suffer from depression, I'm not saying that this will work for you, but it does help me and it's worth a try. I think stringed instruments are best-- violins, guitars, piano, as long as they are acoustic. I also believe that playing them yourself is better than listening to others-- the vibrations, of varying frequencies, actually are absorbed by your body through contact with the keys or bow or string-- but just listening is better than nothing.

Another wacky Glitchbane theory? We hope not.

The wacky Glitchbane has also been knitting. To wit, Afghanicus Ramblicus proceeds apace (though I could not capture the essence of its coloration).

The Shawl of the Fleece of the Sheep of the Country of Iceland also expands. Two rows of eyelets spaced two ridges apart at various intervals makes this design a little less boring than it would be otherwise.

The Two-Thirds Sachet from One of Susanna's that I started at Gig Harbor in February is now complete!! It's quick and easy knit and very fun, but you do actually have to knit it. I was keeping my fingers crossed that when I took it out of the bag it would have completed itself, but alas, it had not. I haven't filled it with anying yet, because I want to let the recipient decide what they want to put in it. This is knit from cotton Mississippi on size 3 needles with size 6 beads and 1/8" ribbon.










And finally, I show to you the pretty mossy merino that I spun up during my Friday Fiber Fun with Felina. I promised her I would use it in a welt, which is now being referred to as the "Lawrence Welt Project".

*Frank Cedrone has passed on, but will always live in my memory as one of the most wonderful men on earth. During my first lesson, he made sure I memorized "our" pianistic pedagogical lineage: Beethoven taught Czerny; Czerny taught Liszt; Liszt taught Joseffy; Joseffy taught Godowsky; Godowsky taught Saperton; Saperton taught Cedrone; Cedrone taught me. It was a true honor to be able to study with Mr. C.

How to Spin a Friday

If anyone had stuck their head into the Parlor last night they would have been greatly amused or perhaps slightly alarmed.

The Gray, lying on the flowered couch and looking quite handsome in his black turtleneck and olive slacks, was feigning sleep while being alternately adorned with a jumping and face-licking 70-pound standard poodle and a sweet and loving 90-pound german shepherd. At the same time, he was watching a documentary on wolves, in which howling was highlighted. As if identifying with the cries of the wolves, howls of pain escaped him every so often as one or two paws found a delicate spot.

Meanwhile, the toy poodle barked incessantly at two fat raccoons who looked in the door impatiently as if to suggest that they were ready to order dinner and where was their waiter? (The standard poodle and the german shepherd didn't seem to care about the raccoons in the least, and one said to the other that he felt that Sherlock was just crying "wolf").

Amidst this cacophony sat two spinners, calmly enjoying some delicious merino, the warmth of the fireplace and a nice Peachy Keen martini.

Ah, yes-- Friday family night with friends in the parlor.
These are moments to savour.

At Last, the Yarn Speaks

I polled the wheels of Icelandic yarn. None of them wanted to be cats. "We've worked hard to get where we are today," the medium brown told me. "We don't want to be 'cute' and we don't want to be modern. We want to be traditional."

The silvery gray agreed. "We are primitive and proud of it. We don't want to be intertwined with the colors of other sheep. We can live side by side easily enough, but our hairs rub each other the wrong way when you color strand us. And please, I beg of you, do not force us to be steeked."

I asked the shyest one, a caramel-colored beauty that hadn't said a word, "what is it they want to be, little one?" Meekly, she whispered, "a shawl."

"Do you guys want to be a shawl?" I asked loudly. I heard a huge cheer and little strands of Icelandic fiber rained on me like confetti. "All right, then-- who's volunteering?" And immediately the black, the medium gray and the silvery gray marched forward and stood at attention.

And so begins the Icelandic shawl from Cheryl Oberle's Folk Shawls book. With extra long "tails" and slightly shaped shoulder, it will be a pleasure to wear.

Meanwhile, the species Afghanicus Mountanium Rowsarium Ramblicus has been found to be growing at a steady rate. Even though the fireplace has been convinced to work, making the need for an afghan less urgent, once Afghanicus got started there was no stopping it.

Speaking of fireplaces that work, I have been spinning in front of mine, making some headway into the cranberry Ashland Bay merino but mostly just enjoying the spinning. Who knows what this might become? Maybe even another afghanicus!

And now I must make a confession. I have been aiding and abetting criminals. Yes, last night the big masked faces of Lewis and Clark showed up at the back door just as I was turning off the lights to go to bed. They looked at me so wistfully-- I do believe they would have come right into the house had the door been open. Their problem? We were out of dog food. They wished to be fed.

Well, what does an animal lover do? I couldn't say that it was wrong to feed wild animals-- obviously, whether we wished to or not, we had been. And the racoon pair had left our cats alone, which was certainly kind of them. So I told them to stay there, went upstairs, got some cat food and tossed it off the upper deck.

Was that so wrong?

Sleep is Important

Yesterday's entry is what happens when Madame gets no sleep, entertained throughout the verrrry long night by the narrated snories of the Gray. She is forced to divert her attention from his masterful plots by thinking about other things and coming up with ideas that will keep her mind off the fact that she would instead like to deliver a powerful kick to her sleeping partner.

You will be delighted to know that she slept soundly last night, and woke up with a head empty of ideas, thus spawning an entree de blogue that is short and to the point:

I have nothing to say.

Vacuums and Relativity

To paraphrase Barbara Mandrell:

"I was knitting when knitting wasn't cool."

The arrival of my holiday issue of Vogue Knitting made it very obvious how "cool" knitting is today. I was appalled. The magazine is hardly anything but advertisements and horrible mockeries of knitted garments**. This must mean that knitting has "arrived" and is approved by society.

I've been watching the science channel and learning much about how the moon was likely formed.

Unfortunately, the seal of coolness is probably the seal of doom. Now there are cool knitting bags cleverly disguised as chic bags (if knitting is cool why try to hide it?) There are a variety of expensive designer knitting needles-- glass, walrus bone, plastic, beaded. After all, we have soooo much money in this economy that we already have all the wonderful fiber we want, and now we need to find something more to do with our money and to impress our fellow knitters.

The prevailing theory is that a proto-moon called Orpheus, a large body of matter hurtling through space, collided with Earth at a fortuitous angle, causing Orpheus to lose part of its mass and bounce back into space at just the right distance to maintain orbit.

When the market gets saturated with knitting essentials that aren't and when designs are no longer coherent or even appealing, and when yarn stores are popping up all over the place it's a sure sign that the market is glutted and knitting will soon once again go into a decline for all except those who are dedicated to it.

When the moon was first formed, it was very close to the Earth. Surprisingly, during the impact of Orpheus with Earth, the metal core of Orpheus was transferred-- combined with that of Earth-- leaving the new Moon without a metal core.

I recall having seen written interviews with people of the Shetland Islands and other places where knitting was once their livelihood. Many of those people never want to see a knitting needle again. They do not understand why modern knitters would enjoy the craft. For them, knitting was a necessity and a drudgery.

The visual effects used to demonstrate the collision of Orpheus with Earth and the transference of the metal core looked alarmingly like a depiction of an egg being fertilized by a sperm cell. Interestingly enough, scientists also believe that it was that impact which set up the conditions for life to exist on Earth.

It is interesting to contemplate what activity that we now consider drudgery might become a celebrated and popular hobby fifty years from now. I vote for vacuuming. In the future, I am sure, floors and carpets will be made of a substance that rids itself of debris automatically.

So what if? What if our solar system is really just a part of some giant being's reproductive system. What if we are in the very very early phase of a gestation of unknown length? It has taken billions of our years to get to this point. The Earth is not getting bigger, but isn't it true that the solar system might be expanding? One day, is this whole amalgamation going to spring forth from this birth canal we call Space into some totally different world?

I envision the day when people will buy and sell antique vacuum cleaners. They will develop new "authentically styled" vacuum cleaners. They will form Vacuuming Guilds to study the different styles of vacuuming different types of materials. They will ooh and aah over canister vacs and Dirt Devils. A Wind Tunnel will be a coveted possession. They will discuss the relative differences between the ability to pick up dog hair vs. sand.

Other documentaries about the undersea world show us creatures that are composed of separate parts that function as a whole, most likely through electrical impulses. These live in very deep waters and are considered to be one of the most primitive of species. Does this remind you of, say, the human brain? Maybe one of those parts feels it is a large planet in a huge solar system?

We, like the Shetland Island Knitters, will shake our heads and wonder why anyone would want to vacuum. We will secretly laugh and make money by writing about what vacuuming was like in the 20th century. We will tell the stories about vacuum cleaner salesmen going from house to house.

The scientists also tell us that Earth is unique in that it has one large moon, while the other planets in our solar system experienced different effects from collisions with other bodies. Perhaps the baby that will be born one day will have need of only one Earth-like part, just as we have need of only one nose?

Vogue Vacuuming Magazine will feature designer vacuuming patterns. Advertisers will push fancy vacuuming gloves, Music to Vacuum By, miniature vacuum cleaner charms, designer vacuum bags and vacuum cleaners that attach to the bottoms of your shoes. They will sell bags of dirt and sand and animal hair so that you can sprinkle it about an "authentic recreation of a vacuumable surface" and indulge your passion for the bygone art of vacuuming. Then one day, just as everyone is into vacuuming, the fad will pass and the market for vacuuming goods will become-- a vacuum. Just like space.

Our exploration of space serves the purpose of helping ourselves understand our world and perhaps to find our role in it. Many scientists have varied goals for space exploration, including the inhabitation of other planets. As long as it makes sense to do this, and as long as we are not destroying our people and our own planet I have no objection. But when we have stopped progressing towards order and understanding, and started to devolve into chaos and destruction, I am sure our scientists will be aware of the situation and call a halt to further experimentation.

Our exploration of knitting serves the purpose of helping ourselves understand the craft and admire its beauty and history and perhaps to find our role in it. Many knitters have varied goals for designs and knitwear, including the perpetuation of traditional designs. As long as it makes sense to evolve designs and come up with new techniques, and as long as we are not devaluing our craft and our own reputations, I have no objection. But when we have stopped progressing towards beauty and understanding, and started to devolve into chaos and tackiness, I am sure our market will be aware of the situation and call a halt to further expansion.

In the end, our view of knitting is, like our view of Earth, only relative to what we see or know. If we got into knitting because we love the tactile pleasure of yarn flowing through our fingers and the self-fulfillment of having created a beautiful object, then we will survive the end of the fad. But if we hopped on a bandwagon of cheering knitters who wanted everyone to validate their own hobby by joining it, then we will need to be looking for a new hobby.

**the one redeeming pattern in the magazine is by Norah Gaughan

It's All Good

We've gone from our season of glorious summertime straight into the lugubrious bummertime in just a matter of a week. Sunshine to shadow; energizing to enervating. From now until next June we will have an endless parade of rain, muddy paws, showers, wet mail, sprinkles, dark mornings, and thunderstorms. I heard on the news that some people love this season. I would like to congratulate them on a home well chosen and shake their webbed hands.

But this brings to mind two former colleagues, both Northwet transplants, both immigrants, both wonderful men.

Mustafa is from Turkey and was a coworker of mine at my last job. A physics genius, he wrote algorithms which identified aberrations in heartbeats. As I walked into the building one morning, I met up with Mustafa, also on his way in to work. It was pouring down rain. The plastic material that was meant to shield walkers from the rain leaked profusely, and I said something negative about the whole situation.

"Oh, I love the rain!, " Mustafa said with a huge smile in his typical cheerful voice. "It reminds me of my native country." My spirits rose immediately; my attitude was adjusted.

Joe Qu was a Chinese immigrant with whom I worked at Microsoft. He was a statistician involved with interpreting the data that my system gleaned nightly from network equipment around the world. He, too, was always cheerful. One day I saw him in the halls. It had been a particularly grueling week among many very grueling weeks of work. I said, "Joe, you are always so cheerful no matter what. Why are you happy all of the time?!"

"Well Sheila, I spent three years in a Chinese prison camp. Now I am out, I am always happy," he said, quietly and simply.

Whether they know it or not, those two men have been tremendous influences in my life, helping me to keep my chin up whenever I am tempted to wallow around in self-pity.

Now hop on board my train of thought, my progression of activity, my meandering mind as I explain my activities of the last couple of days. You'll like your own mind so much better afterwards!

My primary goal, of course, is to finish Project Gray before Christmas. I am almost finished with the sleeves, but I find myself unable to work on them for various pathetic reasons: I have bronchitis, my wrists hurt, I desire softness of wool at this moment, I'm tired of the same color, etc.

Because of all this, I start the Latvian Garden Cardigan. I love working on it, and I have completed two pattern repeats (about twice the amount you saw in the last picture). But as I take various decongestants and analgesics and teas, I find myself unable to reliably follow a two-color pattern, so I lay it aside "for now".

The ASOF Icelandic Adventure begins, so I swatch my cat. It's too thick for human wear (at least for this human) so I am discouraged. I'm not really in the mood to work with Icelandic unspun. It has little fibers that fly around and get into my lungs (or so it seems) and I cough incessantly. I try casting on and knitting a few rounds on the Aspen sweater from Meg Swansen's Knitting, but my gauge is too tight on the recommended needles. I begin to wonder if my platters of unspun are the same size as Schoolhouse Press's. But in the end I put away the Icelandic and promise to make better friends with it in the future.

I turn to my old Friend During Illness-- Garter Stitch. A nice Garter Stitch toddy is just the thing, but it needs color. And softness. And form. I turn to my basket of Mountain Colors and to my Rambling Rows afghan pattern. This I like, and if I wasn't too lazy to take pictures this morning, I would show you a picture of the portion I have completed here's a picture.

Soft, warm, glowing colors. Perfect warmth in my lap since the downstairs fireplace isn't working again. But I need variety, something to "spell" the RR occasionally.

Unfortunately I came across a wonderful blog whose author mostly crochets, and saw many examples of her crocheted curtains. I meant to put a link on my sidebar, but I didn't and now I can't find her! Help! *updated thanks to Annette!! I thought of all the cotton I had bought several years ago to knit a counterpane and decided it might just be a counterpain. I could use it to crochet a curtain. After taking a minute to remember crochet, and swatching a few inches, I decided that despite the fact that crochet goes so much faster than knitting and although the cotton was a good color and a good weight, I would be dissatisfied with crocheting with so large a thread (it's bedspread cotton) and so will either need to knit the curtains or forget it.

Meanwhile I cooked up a big pot of comfort food-- ham and beans, made a skillet of cornbread, and refused to care about being so fickle.

Some things will get finished, some will not. Projects will go in and out of favor for various reasons. Some will get tainted by the events associated with them, some will escape to better homes, and some will one day nestle up in my lap and ask to be finished. It's all good.

Fiberocity

It occurred to me while I was trying to tweak my blog that I might be able to use Movable Type as a calendaring system, and the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of having a calendar that shows fiber events no matter where they are.

The results of my experimentation are now alive and well as Fiberocity, the fiber arts events calendar that brings knitting, weaving, quilting-- whatever-- events to one place.

Of course, there's a slight problem-- I have only posted a few events on the calendar, because I can't possibly know about them all! But I am hoping that you, my fiber friends, will inundate me with details of other events going on in your necks of the woods, no matter where you are. Would you do that?

Say your significant other is on a business trip and invites you along... maybe there's a fiber event going on in that city you can attend while they are in meetings!

Suppose you've always longed to go to Nova Scotia but didn't have a real good reason? Maybe there's a fiber event in Nova Scotia that you can have as a destination (there is!).

Or maybe you've heard of fabulous things like knitting cruises or quiet little retreats but just don't know how to find the information about them.

This is what I hope my new little blog will do for everyone.

So, the events listed on the main page includes everything from the current day forward. It could get a little overwhelming, so try using the events categories on the right side to narrow the events to the ones you are interested in.

I've left the comments option open on each event-- I'm hoping that folks will comment about the event-- previous attendees giving a brief review, little-known facts about the event, that sort of thing.

Breaking (in) News

Cat Swatch Fever

Artifact Analysis:

A square swatch of doubled Icelandic wool, unspun.
Knitter used size 8 needles to obtain a gauge of 4.5 stitches per inch.

Cat appears to be knit of one strand natural black and one strand natural dark brown.

Size is approximately 7" square.

As this fabric is too thick for a wearable garment, we scratch our heads over its intended use.

Perhaps felting was yet to be accomplished. Might make a good (but small) trivet.

Other possible uses:

A mouse bed
A lightbulb changing device to prevent burns on hands
A coaster
A cat toy
A scissors holder (doubled and sewn up)
A pocket on the bib of overalls
A trick for the trick or treaters
A conversation piece
A cover for the lid of a small box

Can you think of other uses? This knitter is in obvious need of help.

Lavender & Roses & Sheep For Your Noses

Meanwhile, back in the Parlor, Madame Glitchbane had not been totally honest with her readers. Indeed, she has been hoarding her beautiful little lavender cardboard suitcase for some weeks now, looking for just the right project to put into it.

She knew that her readers would say "aaahhhh" when she told them the little beauty was scented inside with lavender, a natural moth repellent. But when she found the Perfect Project to keep in it, she couldn't wait to show everyone.

These six balls of heathery handsomeness are Harrisville's New England Shetland in the colors Suede, Aubergine, Iris, Periwinkle, Olive and Moss. Beautiful, wouldn't you say?!

The object into which these lovely yarns will be knit is the Latvian Garden Cardigan, unique in its construction and embellished with picot edges around the armhole seam, along the front openings, along the neckline and around the hem.

The yarn is soft, not scratchy. Wear it next to your skin? You bet! And at $5.30 for 196 yards, it is less than half the cost of Jamieson's Spindrift. And did I mention how soft it is?

Here is my start on the Latvian Cardigan, which I am going to have to lay aside already because.....

....it's time to begin the ASOF Icelandic Adventure!! I think I have finally settled on something, but I'm not going to say until I've committed. None of the swatches I have knit have pleased me, so I am turning to Meg Swanson and her book for inspiration. Stay tuned! In the meantime, feast your eyes upon these wheels of unspun Icelandic yarn, which I purchased in Rekyavik practically right off the sheep---can you smell the sheepiness? It's divine.

If you prefer a more flowery smell, here is a miniature rose, awakened by my darling Gray and his leftover coffee grounds-- a veritable Rose of French Roast, wide awake at nearly midnight. I waft to you a scent of it through the blackness of the night. Sleep tight!

Dear Mr. President

Dear Mr. President:

I am furious with you. I have watched all three presidential debates. I have tried to keep an open mind. I watched you scowl through the first one, charge (with no respect for anyone else) through the second one, and laugh through the third one. But the fact that Senator Kerry was gracious, evenhanded, courteous and professional through all three have nothing to do with my anger.

Twice tonight you "addressed" the issue of people who have lost their jobs. What would you say to a worker who had lost his job to an overseas worker? was the question put to you. What immediately sprang to my mind was all the people around me that are in that situation, including myself and my husband-- we still have no health care benefits after a year! Yes, me and about twenty people that I know personally, who have lost their high- and medium- paying technical jobs and cannot find new ones due to to workers in India who have replaced us due to your tax policies which give companies breaks for such practices.

What did you say? You told me, Mr. President, that you had funded the "No Child Left Behind" program so that I might have an opportunity to go to my community college and get an education! You simply slapped a million people on the west coast in the face and then laughed about it. Twice.

Let me tell you, Mr. Bush, that the people losing jobs in my state are highly qualified professionals with several years of education or experiential equivalent. Now you want them to go back to school? To community college?? To learn what? And what money do you expect us to live on while we attend school? And how do you expect us to pay for school? Our tax returns will show that we made way too much money in the last three years to qualify for financial aid, and our children are already in college, having to compete for that very same financial aid.

You are opposed to abortion, yet you have no compunction about our senior citizens not being able to afford the health care that they need to stay alive. Why is the death of an unborn fetus more important than the death of an elderly father, mother, aunt or uncle? You try to say that John Kerry is for socialized medicine, when he has repeatedly explained his plan for health coverage, which is voluntary and not government-provided. You are only spouting off your party's beliefs (and who knows who came up with those-- John Ashcroft?) and I suspect that in debates dedicated to these subjects you would again be soundly defeated. As Mr. Cheney suggested, go check your facts (but at the proper website) at factcheck.org. You'll find that an awful lot of what you say isn't exactly true.

What you are saying to me, Mr. President, and to all Americans, is that you are betting on the fact that we are stupid, that we don't really understand our government, that if you blow enough smoke we will get tired and go home and leave you to play in the White House.

Your words about prayer and religion and faith do not impress me. I grew up as a fundamental Christian. I spent 12 years in the military as an officer's wife. Just as some people don't understand how sick they are until they are well, I didn't realize how I was being brainwashed until I escaped from those two elements. Now I think for myself, I see for myself, I hear for myself, and I decide for myself.

Mr. Kerry has it right-- faith without works is dead. Not only do you have few works to be proud of, but you don't even realize it.

I have made it a practice not to use my blog to express my political leanings, but your words tonight were the last straw.

I will be voting for your opponent, John Kerry. In fact, everyone that I know in this state, whether they are Republican or Democrat, has vowed they will not vote for you again, Mr. Bush. I pray to all the gods I have ever heard of, for the sake of our country, that you do not get re-elected.

Some MovableType Tips

Before Nanny Granny forced me to finish Saga Rose, I had been learning a bit more about Movable Type, the software that I use for this blog.

Since I have a background as a programmer and database developer, I know how annoying it can be when people ask questions about how to do something without trying to find the answers in the documentation or on forums first. Having been a non-programmer at one time, I also know how annoying it is when you don't know how to try to find answers! In an attempt to fix certain problems with the upgrade, I went a-searching, and figured out several things that I would like to have known for some time, and then felt reasonably informed enough to ask a couple of questions on the forums.

Now I tell myself, "Self, there are tons of people out there using Movable Type for their knitting blogs." And I answer, "yeah, so?" And I ask myself, "Self, why not give them the answers to the questions they may be asking but don't know how to go about finding the answers to?" And I agreed that it would be a good idea.

Here, then, is Madame Glitchbane's List of GAQs -- Glitchbane Asked Questions:

Q: What resources are there for helping me with Movable Type?
A: Quite a few, actually. Here are some:
-- The Movable Type Forums
-- Scriptygoddess
-- Tweezer's Edge
-- Knitting Notes (look in the "tips" category.
-- Learning Movable Type

Q: How do you put in links on your sidebar?
A: You must edit your Main Index template. Add a section that looks like this:

A2: Use Blogrolling It's free. You enter your links there, and it produces some code for you to put in your template that you never have to change, even if your links change.

Q: How do you make the links open in a seperate window?
A: Do you see the {target="_blank"} section of the code above? That does it.

Q: How do you get your list of blog links to say when one of them is updated?
A: Use Blogrolling. It does it for you if you set it up. Otherwise, learn all about RSS and stuff I don't have the time for right now!

Q: How do I make it so other link lists on other peoples' blogs know that my blog has been updated?
A: In your MT setup, be sure to enable "pinging". You'll see it in your preferences menu.

Q: How did you make a list of categorized archives?
A: With the help of David at Tweezer's Edge and the MT documentation I used the tags for categories as follows (put this in your Main Index template, within the sidebar section:

Q: Why do I sometimes get an error when posting comments?
A: The mySQL database that MT uses has a maximum number of connections. Sometimes that number is exceeded, especially if something goes wrong with your database or somebody else's database that is on the same server. The best thing to do is have your hosting provider stop and restart the mySQL Server. Sometimes they don't get to it right away.

La Vie en Rose

Rose and I attended the grand meeting of the Ferals last night. She kept me warm and cozy and I, content with a finished object at last, enjoyed every minute with my knitting friends.

I did indeed attempt the impossible and here it is:

Self-Portrait En Rose

I made the third size, which is the next-to-largest. The body is a little big, but I like it that way. The sleeves are generous, but drop sleeves usually are. I lengthened the sleeves by about three inches, and I'm glad I did-- they would have been much too short otherwise. This is a fairly easy fair isle because it only uses six colors and there are only 3 relatively small patterns-- one peerie, and two 11-row patterns.

Although I tried yesterday, I still haven't found buttons that work well. In the meantime, I'll just wear it without!

It's a Mystery!

Something tells me it is Monday. This is strange, since yesterday was Saturday. I look around and see evidence of activity I do not recall. How did that box of Nilla Wafers get on my desk? When did I take a picture of Harvey and post it en blogue? Who ate the leftover glop I was so looking forward to?

I enlist the aid of my top advisor, Sherlock: Poodle Minor. We launch an investigation and advance theories as to what might have happened. As we work, his wet nose thrusting itself into bits of evidence without thought to wearing rubber nose protectors, a pattern begins to emerge.

Our first real clue is this pile of yarn leftovers, apparently spread out on the ottoman for a purpose. We find one missing and after some research discover that it is Chestnut. But why Chestnut? What did Chestnut do, or why was Chestnut singled out and most importantly: where was he?

It wasn't long before Sherlock discovered a pile of yarn lengths in several colors. Some were as long as four inches, but most were between one and three inches long. Carefully handling the fiber, we analyzed the distribution and number of colors and found there were only six. Further, we ascertained that the type of sheep which produced the fiber had to have come from only one region in the world-- the Shetland Islands. Because of the thickness of the wool, we narrowed the source down to two mills: Jamieson's or Jamieson & Smith, two mills located in the Shetlands which produce practically identical wool for the retail market.

We stopped for a doughnut, a Greenie and three cups of coffee while we waited for the Domestic Resources Department to obtain color cards from the two mills. I could tell Sherlock was getting tired, but we were hot on the trail of What Happened, and we couldn't give up now.

Back at the office we had received the lab report on the fibers, which concluded that the six colors were from Jamieson's mill, and that they were of the colors known as Old Gold, Dark Navy, Admiral Navy, Maroon, Redcurrant and... Chestnut. We had our first breakthrough-- a link between the missing yarn and the pile of scraps.

Sherlock took a short nap to renew his investigative vigor while I caught up on paperwork. We hit the trail again, determined to solve the case.

As we walked about the house, I saw something odd on the stairs. It was a long green bag, somewhat like an umbrella cover but much too big for an umbrella. Its drawstring closure was loosened, and the contents, whatever they were, had been removed. Spurred on by Sherlocks excited barking and scratching at the bag, I reached in and found a piece of paper at the bottom. It said "Wooly Board". We looked at each other and then ran for the Google login screen.

A wooly board, or woolly board as it is sometimes spelled, is a wooden or metal device used to block (or stretch) woollen handknit garments to dry after washing. They usually come in several parts for easy storage and are easily assembled when needed. Aha! We now had a good idea of what had been in the green bag.

Despite the fact that we hadn't eaten for more than eighteen minutes, we pressed on.

In the kitchen, we found that the enamel turkey roaster had been removed from its cabinet and used for some purpose. On the counter there stood a bottle that looked like it might hold chemicals. This was getting a little scary. We sent some of the liquid off to the lab for analysis, and they confirmed what we had suspected-- the chemical really was what the label purported. Synthrapol. Synthrapol, the most widely used substance for restitution of historical garments in the world. Synthrapol, similar in chemical construction to the domestic household dishwashing liquid, Dawn. Synthrapol-- often used to wash delicate modern garments such as.... sweaters.

Now we had a good idea what we were looking for. Sherlock, his half-eaten Greenie hanging from his mouth like a pipe, postulated a coherent theory: we might find, somewhere on or near the premises, a recently washed sweater that had been or was still being blocked on a wooly board. The presence of the short fibers suggested that the sweater might have been recently constructed. The absence of the piece of Chestnut might suggest that the knitter had been forced to scrounge around for enough of that color to finish the sweater.

Soon we found a pattern of dried drip marks that led from the kitchen to the office. Along the way was a still-damp towel, perhaps used to press extra water from the sweater before blocking. Our hearts were thumping as we arrived at the door of the office and swept the room with our eyes. There in the center of the room was the solution to our mystery. Saga Rose, complete except for buttons, basted up the front, washed and drying on a woolly board.

Suddenly it all came back to me-- everything that had happened on Sunday. Nanny Granny had told me early in the morning that I had to finish Saga Rose that day, period. She stayed by my side, wouldn't let me put it down. Tippi Jane rubbed my shoulders and bathed my forehead with cool moist towels. Ermadine kept calling me from various homes in the neighborhood, attempting to distract me from my task. I ran out of Chestnut, and looked everywhere for another skein but alas, none was there. My appeal for mercy to Nanny Granny was met with eyes of stone and a heart of ice. Suddenly I remembered the leftovers from all those skeinikins that I had made in a former life. Pawing through them all, I finally located some Chestnut and finished my sleeve. I looked at Nanny Granny, who inspected the sweater and told me to redo the end of the first cuff, because I had not knit a solid row of Dark Navy before I bound off. Frustrated, I redid the cuff and then started weaving in my ends. When Nanny Granny wasn't looking, I just cut all the ends that weren't close to the outside of the sweater. They'll just fuzz up anyway.

It was nearly midnight before I finished basting up the center and washed the cardigan in my turkey roaster with a dose of synthrapol. At that point, something clicked off in my brain, and I was left, once more, with Damnesia.

I am glad to be done with Saga Rose. She started off so sweet and willing, but then something happened. I didn't want to see her anymore. She kept crying and whining and pleading, but this just turned me off. Finally, she sat quietly in her basket for nearly a year, learning to be humble and to ask politely and thus earned back her place in my heart. I look forward to wearing her over my turtlenecks for many years.

A Word from Our Poodle

Poodle Major, aka Harvey, says happy Sunday to all, and don't forget to watch Desperate Housewives on tv tonight while you knit!

Universal Politics

Happy Holler is astir with election talk. The universe of Fugasma, as you know, holds elections once every ten years, so that the planets themselves do not have to interrupt their daily lives nor affect their productivity by worrying about who is what too often. As a matter of fact, elections have become so streamlined that candidates have only two days to make their case. There are no parties per se (parties were eliminated in the Act of Reformation of 2345, which is a good year to enact reform since it is easy for school children to memorize). At the end of two days, the candidates are scored on a small list of factors: who did the least sniping; who got more facts correct; who is likely to live another ten years, who is adjudged to be worthy of the greatest respect, and so on. Fugasma feels, as a universe, that if they reduce politics to these factors they can dispense with the time and money-wasting ridiculosity that has been exhibited by the history of other planets (notably Earth).

So, today and tomorrow are abuzz with campaign mottoes, demonstrations of humility, candidates offering to open the door for their opponents, and campaign advertisements hologrammatically projected into space by the candidates commending the inhabitants of the planet for whose chief office they are running and promising to do absolutely nothing to ruin their lives. It is exhilirating beyond belief to see men and women running for office based on promises not to do anything.

As you may know, Madame Glitchbane was exiled into the past many years ago from the present future date of that universe, but she still intercepts the news waves, receives telepathic letters from relatives, and worries about who might be the next to govern the planet from which she was banished. If Boston Mississippi, for example, wins the race for Chief Knitter on planet Glitchbane, they might be in for ten more years of nothing but Fair Isle.

(It is the custom for people of the planets of Fugasma to name their children after cities and places from Ancient (present) Earth).

Each planet is dedicated to one type of industry and all the people of that planet are genetically perfect for that one industry. It should go without saying that everything is made by hand. Those who would invent mechanical devices to do what is best done by hand are made to, for example, wear only nylon or acrylic garments for a year. There is a 100% success rate with this method of treatment, and no reported recidivism.

On Planet Glitchbane, everyone is a Knitter. Even in that reformed future, the planets do not like it if someone is Different. Madame Glitchbane, unfortunately, let it slip that she would be interested in other things, like spinning and weaving and quilting. She gained so much knitoriety for her perversity that she was eventually kicked back into the past. The Wise Council of Glitchbane feels that if one spends enough time suffering in the past, they will eventually renounce their primitive beliefs and become a better part of society on Glitchbane in the future. So here she sits, sometimes longing to be back home on Glitchbane, trying her best to understand these inhabitants of ancient Earth, and sometimes just happy to be alive.

But I digress. I was speaking of the election talk here at the Holler. Nanny Granny is rooting for Pensacola Algeria, who is a veteran Domino knitter and quite innovative. Tippie Jane doesn't really care who wins, she just likes to see what the candidates are wearing. Ermadine wishes that Paducah Port-au-Prince is elected, as Knitress Port-au-Prince is one of the strictest knitters on the planet, and does not even allow laddering back to fix a mistake.

Other planets have a stake in the election, of course. If Cleveland Burgundy, the lace knitter, is elected then the Planet Wolfbane, which is the wool producing planet, will not be happy. They will have to change the content of their herds to produce wool that is good for lace knitting, and they won't be needing as much of it as if, for example, Mendenhall Saskatchewan (the bulky knitter) wins.

Politics, politics. Thank goodness it will all be over tomorrow.

Site Unseen

As you can see, Madame Glitchbane has been playing around again with graphics and layouts and cascading style sheets, inspired by yet another site, whose link escaped me long ago (it wasn't hard, I assure you, in my minimum security brain), and always inspired by Mary with her Knitting Notes.

"Why do you keep doing this?" I hear you ask. I have a theory about how to know whether a design works or not. I'm sure it's not an original one, but if I can come back to the same page or design over and over and over and always be content with it, then I know it is good. On the other hand, if I come back to it and find that it is too perky or bright or dull or obnoxious or amateur, then it is wrong. Right now the NWKniteri home page is wrong, I just haven't had time to deal with it.

I'll have the blog and other links back up hopefully today, by the way. I was horrified to see that I had left off the wonderful Ryan's Mossy Cottage Knits and my Australian mate's Fuzzy Dot! Also, you will find some former links missing. Even if I love the blog and the writing and the person, if there are links to pornography or other wholly objectionable material on the blog page I'm sorry, I can't and won't knowingly link to it. Why, even Sherlock's young eyes are offended by the stuff!

NWKniterati has also been successfully updated to MovableType 3.11. After a lot of thought, it seemed to me that Ben and Mena Trott of SixApart volunteered their time and talent for years in return for nothing but donations. A huge number of people have taken advantage of that, and it's only fair that SixApart should start charging, especially since the cost is extremely reasonable. So here we are. There are a few bugs that they are working out, but I think they have done a fantastic job, don't you?

Project Gray, did you say?
The twin sleeves of Project Gray are growing at a steady (if slow) rate. When they grow up they will be able to tell their cuffs all about the presidential and vice-presidential debates of 2004 (don't forget Poland!); about John Stewart, the wonderful fake news man of the The Daily Show, and how Madame G continued to plug away at the twins even though there was nice soft alpaca close at hand.

Peachy Keen

I have perfected my recipe for the Peachy Keen Martini, which may or may not be an original name or an original drink.

I am of the opinion that this drink is a perfect blend of flavor-- lightly sweet, lightly fruity and very martini.

1. Fill one martini glass to within 1/2-inch from the top with Stoly Persik. For the very best Peachy Keen you will have stored the Stoly Persik (peach infused vodka) in the freezer for several days.


2. Fill a steel martini shaker about 1/3 full with semi-crushed ice.
   
   
   


3. Pour the Stoly Persik into the martini shaker.
   


4. Add to the shaker a glug or two of Stolichnaya 100 proof vodka. This normally comes in a silver-labeled bottle.
   


5. Cap the shaker and shake vigorously, until you can't hold onto the shaker any more due to the cold.
   Warning! Do NOT put your tongue on the shaker no matter who triple-dog-dares you!
   


6. Strain the contents of the shaker back into the martini glass.
   


7. Float a small amount of Grand Marnier around the edges of the glass. Not too much now-- you don't want it to be too sweet!
   


8. If you are serving a guest, maybe a sprig of mint would look nice in the glass.

Drink slowly over two or three hours. Do not attempt to knit, stitch, drive or make an intellectual point. If this is a first date, either wear your chastity belt or your best lacy underthings. Take off those stiletto heels before you attempt to walk upstairs. You have been warned.

Murphy Comes Around

When life throws you curves, you have to learn to bend. And when Murphy pays you a visit and lays down his law, you should invite him in for a drink-- after a while everything will be just fine again.

There is no mistake in that the Computer Stop is right next door to the liquor store. After you exit the computer store, you're likely to either be celebrating the purchase of a brand new computer buddy or (like me) you're going to be lamenting the death of a hard drive. In my case, the store name might as well have been a direct order: Computer, Stop!

But earlier, I had invited Murphy in for a drink to discuss these developments and harangue him about feeling the need to invade my life, and he started being nice. He explained how I now had the opportunity to get a bigger hard drive and to say goodbye to all those files I've been meaning to clean up for ages. Pouring me another Guiness, he also suggested I go ahead and get another half gig of RAM. Feeling much better about all this, I made my way over to the Computer Stop first thing this morning, to find that I was second in line and that computers had been dropping like flies.

Luckily, the Chinese man whose name I did not catch is an expert and quickly diagnosed my problem, installed a new drive and more memory and sent me home to reinstall XP. Only.... Murphy must have really enjoyed our little tete-a-tete, because I got home and could not get the machine to boot. Not only that, but my installation CDs were for upgrades only. On my second phone call back to the store, my Chinese friend said, "maybe you want pay seventy-five dolla?" and I agreed. I'd pay another $75 to have him get it installed because I was getting a bit weary of the company of little Murphy.

Back to the store I went. This time I was invited into the Inner Sanctimus Computerium where everything buzzes and there are more electrical cables than seeds in a pomegranate. Luckily I had planted some sock yarn in my purse, and I was able to fertilize it while I was waiting. The sock grew at least two inches!

I had heard another employee mention my guy's upcoming trip to China, so I made pleasant conversation by asking him about it. Honest to betsy, I think sometimes these people never get spoken to. I can only imagine that people are so frustrated when they see him that they rarely say nice things. But by the time I left, my computer was booted, XP was half installed, my Chinese friend was smiling, I was smiling, and it cost me absolutely nothing.

Back at home, I successfully completed the installation without a hitch, my computer is so fast it makes me dizzy, and all is well.

Sure, I've got a lot of things to do all over again, but think of the opportunity for improvement!

I returned to knitting on Project Gray last night, which some of you might have recognized as the High Priestess Aheerya. I will be glad when these sleeves are done, but not so glad to know that I still have the front to knit!

In an effort not to be overtaken by Caroline, I have also been working on the last sleeve of Saga Rose. Hopefully it will be finished in time for the next Ferals, although by now I'm sure I've misplaced the buttons. It's perfect weather for cardigans right now; in fact it's perfect weather for knitting in general.

The ASOF group has decided to do a Lopi knit along or an Icelandic-style item, and I think I have settled on creating a wave-pattern scarf with my varying natural shades of unspun Icelandic. The -Along begins October 15th and I can't wait to see what everyone is going to end up with!

Book Review - A Confederacy of Dunces

I am typing on the Gray's computer, which has one of those old-fashioned keyboards, unlike my Natural keyboard. I remind myself of an adult trying to ride a small tricycle, all scrunched in and totally awkward. But this has been the Day of Horrors, the worst of which is that my own computer refuses to boot. I think it got angry that I had installed Mozilla's Firefox browser. When I then tried to install a Microsoft product, the two products donned their respective war bonnets and fought to the death-- nuclear devastation inside a microchip. Now we know that the weapons of mass destruction have been inside my computer the whole time.

Of course, Ignatius Reilly could have predicted this long ago. He was a very insightful young man. I am speaking of the main character of the hilarious Pulitzer Prize-winning book A Confederacy of Dunces, written by John Kennedy Toole and published posthumously at the insistence of his mother-- ironic, since the book is about a "boy" (30-year-old) who still lives with his mother despite holding advanced degrees. It seems that Mr. Toole killed himself because he couldn't get the book published.

Despite the tragic end of the author, the book is a delight. I'd like to present you with some excerpts which especially had me laughing out loud.

Ignatius, an obese and flatulent young man whose many years of education was hard-earned by his mother's sacrifices, thinks of himself as a Great Person who should have to do nothing but write an assortment of papers about his World View in the pages of various pink Big Chief tablets scattered around the floor of his odiferous bedroom. Suddenly, due to certain circumstances, he is forced to find a job, and finds it difficult to get hired.

At one point, Ignatius has found a job (reluctantly) as a hot dog vendor, and on his first day has eaten all but four of the hot dogs himself. He is trying to convince his boss that they were stolen by an adolescent, who held a pistol against his head. The boss expresses doubt. Says Ignatius:

"Perhaps he was very hungry. Perhaps some vitamin deficiency in his growing body was screaming for appeasement. The human desire for food and sex is relatively equal. If there are armed rapes, why should there not be armed hot dog thefts? I see nothing unusual in the matter."

"You are full of bullshit" [says the boss]

"I? The incident is sociologically valid. The blame rests upon our society. The youth, crazed by suggestive television programs and lascivious periodicals, had apparently been consorting with some rather conventional adolescent females who refused to participate in his imaginative sexual program. His unfulfilled physical desires therefore sought sublimation in food. I, unfortunately, was the victim of all this. We may thank God that this boy has turned to food for an outlet. Had he not, I might have been raped right there on the spot."

Ignatius believes that the world's progress stopped with the medieval period and that "music stopped with Scarlatti". Himself a proponent of Boethius and Fortuna's wheel, he advises a resident of the French Quarter on what to read:

"Then you must begin a reading program immediately so that you may understand the crises of our age," Ignatius said solemnly. "Begin with the late Romans, including Boethius, of course. Then you should dip rather extensively into early Medieval. You may skip the Renaissance and the Enlightenment. That is mostly dangerous propaganda. Now that I think of it, you had better skip the Romantics and the Victorians, too. For the contemporary period, you should study some selected comic books.... I recommend Batman especially, for he tends to transcend the abysmal society in which he's found himself. His morality is rather rigid, also. I rather respect Batman."

Using Ignatius as his mouthpiece, Toole pokes fun at almost everything, and I expect it is the rare reader who can't recognize themselves in the book. He even addresses the fiber issue of which I spoke a couple of days ago.

"They [psychiatrists] would try to make me into a moron who liked television and new cars and frozen food. Don't you understand? Psychiatry is worse than communism. I refuse to be brainwashed. I won't be a robot!... The only problem that those people [psychiatric patients] have anyway is that they don't like new cars and hair sprays. That's why they are put away. They make the other members of the society fearful. Every asylum in this nation is filled with poor souls who simply cannot stand lanolin, cellophane, plastic, television, and subdivisions."

"Ignatius, that ain't true. You remember old Mr. Becnel used to live down the block? They locked him up because he was running down the street naked."

"Of course he was running down the street naked. His skin could not bear any more of that Dacron and nylon clothing that was clogging his pores. I've always considered Mr. Becnel one of the martyrs of our age. The poor man was badly victimized."

To his mother, Ignatius once says:

"It's not your fate to be well treated...You're an overt masochist. Nice treatment will confuse and destroy you."

For such a young author, Toole had a good grasp of society as a whole and was able to satirize it magnificently. He poked fun at overeducated people who did nothing with their education; he highlighted some of the obstacles that blacks and gays faced in the early 60's; he makes fun of those who think up grandiose plans and end up falling on their faces, only to pick themselves up and keep trying, of blaming society for personal faults and of ignoring the lessons of all of history in favor of a certain period.

If you have read this book, I would love to hear what you got out of it!

I'm going downstairs now into my Parlor of Chaos to knit Great Works and ignore all my responsibilities.

Mummy's the Word

Our wee poodle would like to announce that we are now into the wonderful month of Sherloctober, when on cold mornings he enjoys lying on the hearth in front of the warm fireplace.

It's the season when everyone gets back to work; the kids start to school; the school buses block traffic and you suddenly realize that another whole year has passed. Those big kids climbing into the bus were the little kids standing with their parents last year watching their siblings climb on.

It's also the time of year when little Ernie Malpervides likes to sit in the big maple tree in back of Happy Holler and shake it so that all of the propellors will land on our deck, take root and sprout into little maple trees that we will have to deal with next spring.

Our little patient is getting better, but just wanted to show you what she calls her Me-Owie:

Yesterday, Sullivan O'Donovan was the first to report in the Woolyumsburg "Gazette" the biggest find ever in this neck of the woods. An ancient religion which some say may be undergoing a modern revival has long been rumored to have built its largest temple many thousands of years ago deep in the caverns beneath Happy Holler.

Archeologists (inexplicably large-eared archeologists) have spent years excavating carefully underneath the Parlor, and finally made a breakthrough last week with an unprecedented find-- what they think may be the mummy of the High Priestess Aheerya of the Order of the Listening Ear!!

Laid to rest in a bed of flowers, her ears were ornately decorated by the loving hands of her fellow Listeners. One reporter asked, "how do you know it's a priestess and not a priest?" An expert on the ancient religion quickly assured him that only female faces were wrapped with soft fiber.

I paid a visit to Skeins Ltd, the other day and was so glad to see that they had rearranged their stock so that all colors of the same yarn are now back together. It was pretty when it was all by color, but it was so difficult to find anything. This time, however, it was way too easy to find the new Vittadini yarn, and even easier to grab a few balls of Natasha (alpaca/wool) in a pretty light green with which to make this lace-paneled sweater.

The entire yoke, front and back, will be lace, and the lace will also grace the top half of the sleeves. At 4 stitches to the inch, this is knitting up quickly.

The Melodious Cloak is also progressing, and I have a couple of options for the edging. One is a ball of pink Koigu (upper left). The other is a hank of tweed Cascade 220 (bottom). At this point either of them looks good, so we'll just see what happens.

Fire me up!

I've had me a good ol' time today firing up the new blog and playing around with Fireworks MX 2004, to which I recently upgraded. Unfortunately, one of the Happy Holler Household members is not feeling quite so fiery despite the fact that her coloring would suggest otherwise. Here she is, the Purrfect Patient, longsuffering in her Elizabethan collar and unwilling to rule.

I discovered a couple of days ago that she had become rather holy-- that is, that two holes had appeared in her chest, the apparent result of some kind of animal attack. She is such a good girl, however, that the vet did not even have to anesthetize her to flush them out and clean them. I've never seen an animal so patient with the collar, either. She seems to be feeling much better, and is getting a lot of love and attention.

The winner of the Weekend Wowee! Award is... the sale at Martingale Press, which I honestly had no clue was located in Woodinville, WA, not far from where I met a knitting buddy for coffee on Friday. She calmly explained the PILE of new books sitting on the table thusly: Martingale Press has an annual sale of craft books (mostly knitting and quilting) and they were selling them for $3.00 per book. $3.00!! We rushed on over there and I purchased over $400 dollars retail value for less than 1/10th of their cost. I like those kind of sales!!

I realized very recently that I have acquired a habit, a MONKEY habit at that. That is, the MOnday Night Knitting Event Yessir! Habit. If it's not Ferals it's EKG and if it's not that, who's to say that I can't have my own MONKEY? So I tell you what. I'll be knitting at Crossroads on non-EKG, non-Feral nights and if anyone wants to show up and hang out, that'll be just greater than great.

I didn't take any fiber pictures today, but you're probably wondering about what happened to Project Gray. Am I right? Huh? Well, I am happy to say that I finished the back and am a ways into both sleeves. I have had to take a break due to the myriads of complaints coming from my wrists (those wimps!) and also the interminably long tunnel that seemed to appear to me, with nary a light at the end. I will return to Project Gray Monday.

Meanwhile, the Experimental Cloak Project is proceeding nicely. Monday will bring you pictures!