Memorial Day Weekend. Generally, this is a long weekend for the worker in the US, unless, of course, you are doomed to work in retail. Then this is a long weekend of another sort -- in which time defies itself and lengthens to proportions most painful. Thankfully, the combination of scheduled time off and a sick day (for which I was not paid) landed me 5 consecutive days off. This balances the 10 consecutive days of work that I just finished.

Back to the story: Memorial Day Weekend is regarded as the unofficial start of Summer. Getting together with friends and relatives to consume all manner of meat, statchy carbohydrates, and mayonaise products is how we celebrate here in The States. Even better than doing this at one home is the combined celebration of several homes on a block -- or several blocks -- in a neighborhood. Hence the term "block party".

This little patriot celebrated with a block party of another sort:

The blocking of the Tank Girl Tank! Just in time for the first day of the Summer season -- which by the way, is the worst day, weather-wise, of the long weekend -- I have finished the knitting, sewing, and blocking of this wonderful tank. The experienced amongst you will notice the uneven stitches, etc. But this is my first "for me" clothing item, so like a proud mama, I am blind to the imperfections of my "baby".

My goal was to wear the tank Tuesday, but given the hour of the day (2:30pm EST) and the weather, I doubt if this will dry by tomorrow morning. Nevertheless, I am pretty darned proud of this tank.

The air here has been rather thick; thick with floating cotton blossoms.


Speaking of cotton, this lovely thing arrived via post today.

I don't have any plans for it, but looking at the thickness, I might be able to make it work for Grace. I will have to do some gauge fudging, but I think it could work. And, it will be a far better yarn choice than mohair for the summer months in the Hudson Valley.

It is Memorial Day weekend. I am sick, and I have to work tomorrow. The only benefit I can see to my psuedo-management position is scheduling myself "off" for Memorial Day. Honestly, I don't know anyone who shops at the mall Memorial Day. I should think that clothing, shoes, and cosmetics are the last thing on one's mind that day. Shouldn't it be filled with thoughts of ketchup, grilling, and buns?

We have no plans for cooking out, visiting friends, etc. I have come to realize that my "married" life hasn't opened any social doors for me. In fact, I have become more of an isolationist. It would be far more romantic if we were snuggled away in a cozy country cabin instead of a rental situated in the middle of a very boring part of New York State.

At any rate, it's tank time. My goal is to wear the tank Tuesday.

It is my first day off in 10, and I am nursing a cold/flu that is slowly brewing in the deep regions of my respiratory system. I spent the bulk of yesterday on the selling floor, suffering with laryngitis and an achy body. Granted, the real pain of laryngitis is for the listener who swings between sympathy (Oh, you poor thing, it's such an effort for you to speak) and irritation (Ouch! It hurts me to listen, and I can't understand a #@*^& thing she's saying).

This morning, I was awakened from my deep sick-sleep by a violent shaking. It was the sort of bolt up that one generally witnesses only in film -- as either the next murder victim or the tortured dreamer. ...What the...? I was confused but able to take stock: Kevin is asleep, Lukas is sleeping at a friend's, and Joe is at work. Did the neighbor ram the support beam with his Monster Truck?

I finally worked out -- from the light and sound show accompanying the torrential downpour -- that the damn house was shaking from the vibrations caused by the thunder. I experienced an earthquake in Seattle that was less disturbance than this. All is calm now, and I even hear the first, post-storm chirps of little birdies.

I am undergoing some sort of knitting denial. I long to have one finished project that I can wear, and yet, I have not touched the tank for a day. I have, however, touched every possible book and magazine for additional ideas. Yesterday, I visited a yarn store whilst Kevin took his permit test to look for possible summer-friendly yarns for Grace. Maybe I am wrong, but Mohair does not sound like the proper material for summer in New York State. I might be wrong, but a cotton blend seems more sweat-friendly. Also, I am a bit on the cheap side when it comes to yarn. I would like to think that making my own clothing is saving me money, but I am forced to confront that this is not the case. Grace in 100% mercerized Egyptian cotton would cost $52. I could buy 5 tees from H&M for that! But I am not supposed to think that way, am I?

While I avoid cleaning and finishing the tank, I will continue to ponder all manner of yarns and patterns...

I awoke this morning at 4:30 -- fitfully from a dream of work. This must stop. All morning I felt just a bit "off", and I now have full confirmation that I am getting sick: soupy eyes, scratchy throat at the area at the top of the throat/base of my sinuses, and swollen glands. The silver lining? Maybe now I'll get some sleep.

Tank Girl is coming along slowly, but I see no need to rush something that has been sitting patiently in the yarn bin for 2 months. Also sitting in the yarn bin was this yummy bit of mohair:

I bought these in the first weeks of my life as a knitter. Smiley's had a huge yarn sale, and even though I knew precious little about gauge, substitution, etc -- not to mention that I went without one project in mind -- I had to buy something. It was a sale!

Ignoring the sock yarn cast on to needles, I rummaged through my knitting books, and I thought I was going to be struck by lightening. Honestly, how could I believe that there would not be some price to pay for finding a pattern that I like, that I will wear, and that requires exactly the amount of yarn I have? I feel like I hit the lottery!

Having opted for a calf-down pattern for the sock, and having completed only the cast on for them, I have decided to put that aside for now. Tank Girl needs some attention. I started my Tank Girl tank back in February, and I have barely touched it since.

Last night, I decided that it was time to free up the needles and complete something for myself. Joe hid his head under the covers to block out the light, as I knit a mere two rows before turning in for the night myself. I carried it to work with me today, which was a waste of time. I spent the entire day ripping apart the counter and re-organizing the displays with my Coordinator. In spite of the mess that is created, I love when my Coordinator visits. She has a great sense of humor, and she was able to lift me out of my PMS/retail hell/work politics slump.

Perhaps, another reason for my slump is the simple fact that my birthday is less than a month away. This tends to stir up some heavy ennui and melancholia as I examine the past year of my life and ponder the year to come. Sadly, I often start with the best of plans and intenions to bring myself closer to my dreams and goals, but it's a bit like the dreaded New Year's Resolution -- I tend to repeat myself more than a distraught mother of three.

Thanfully, I can focus on an episode of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and think about my goals and my life's meaning tomorrow.

It was a super slow day at work -- accentuated by the fact that we had been so busy during the event -- so we spent the bulk of the day talking about travel, reading, skincare, teaching, and the like.

My coworker, Shar, is about to embark on a career as an elementary education teacher, and we launched a quick discussion about Waldorf Schooling. This discussion was a result of a book purchase I had made: Zen and the Art of Knitting [quick aside This book was part of a bulk purchase at Walden Books, which was featuring a "buy 4, get 1 free" sale, so how could I resist?].

Anyway, there's a story in Zen in which the author visits the 5th grade knitting class at a Waldorf School. Of particular note to me was the knitting projects: knitting in the round. Yep, that would include s o c k s. A damned fifth grader can knit a sock! I cannot even complete the cast on for one. I am humbled, shamed, humiliated. Is it too late to ship Joe's kids off to a Waldorf School, just so that I could sit in on the sock lesson?

The mere mention of school has me pondering the future. I have enjoyed our event at work, and I have come to realize that my interest in cosmetics and skincare is much deeper than I can experience at a cosmetics counter. It is a bit of a situation, really. Dare I ponder the possibility of a career change that would involve schooling? It is not entirely without merit.

Yesterday, I sat at the kitchen table with my DPNs and sock yarn in hand, and I suddenly flashed to a commercial from my youth. Does anyone remember the Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pop advert? The one with the wise owl... How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pop...?

After 30 minutes of repeatedly casting on, sort of knitting, and pulling out the few stitches I had, I had the feeling that I would never reach the center of my Sockotta Footsie Sock.

Following the directions for Deb's Almost Easy Toe Up Socks, I did a long-tail cast on. For some reason, the assigning slipped stitches to one needle and knit stitches to another was not as easy as I'd hoped. After two or three attempts (requiring me to start from the cast on), I switched to the Figure 8 cast on, and that was even more disastrous.

I noted that Deb, the designer, had used the word almost, and it was after my numerous attempts to move beyond distributing the stitches amongst 4 needles that I really felt the depth of ALMOST. It was precisely this moment that I also felt the desire to shove my bamboo needles under someone's (not mine, of course) fingernails. It occurred to me that knitting should not induce the sort of rage that traffic on a hot day does, so I put the sock items in my knitting bag, and I thought that I could work on them during my lunch break.

For the past two days, I have carried both the socks, um, rather the sock yarn, and my tank top in my knitting bag. And carry is the operative verb; not a stitch has been knit. In the case of the socks, I was further along the day I boldly showed off my cast on than I am at this moment.

A Target store is opening in the area on 25 July. I can always wait and buy a few socks for the cost of this one pair -- at a significant savings to my blood pressure and mental health.

I am not being immodest when I say that I have small hands. I get comments from manicurists, typically very small and slight Asian women, about the small size of my hands, as well as the fact that my pinkie fingernail is about the size of a baby's. This sounds like some sort of stunted appendage, but I assure you that it is a fully formed and fine-looking finger. The fingers are short, and the nails are sized to fit said fingers.

And what does that have to do with knitting? The obvious link here is the knitted sock -- or the actions required to begin knitting a sock. Even with my teeny hands, I am made to feel like I have clumpy-handed mitts when it comes to the simple task of casting on a mere 24 stitches. To anyone who regularly knits socks, I am sure that this "revelation" of mine is laughable, even dismissable. I have eyes, and I could see how thin the sock yarn is; how thin the #2 Clover needles are. Yes, I could see it all very clearly, but I was not prepared for how the thin yarn and needles transform my hands into uncoordinated paws.

Realistically, I cannot call this

a full attempt at sock knitting. I bought the yarn and the needles so long ago (and with a store credit) that I can simply forget that it would be a waste of money to bury these items in the trash. Besides, it would probably be the first time that anyone in the house took out the garbage before it was spilling over onto the floor, and it would all be lost forever. No, better to leave the yarn and needles out where they can taunt me. So far, I have been able to ignore the taunts by hiding out in the computer room.
In unrelated (to knitting) news, there are 2 more days of the event at work, and I am working the closing shift tonight, which could translate into either death by boredom or death by being overwhelmed. I was on alone yesterday (a result of two tardy co-wokers) when 3-4 clients came requesting services or products. In spite of the juggling, I managed to have this snapped.

I think you know what this is,

and I am sure that someone heard me scream with glee when I did the final BO. I want to thank my childhood friend, Dean, who chatted with me for nearly an hour, making the knitting go (real time) slower and (perceived time) faster.

Incidentally, Dean has known me since I was five years old, so he understands how the two of us could make any project take longer, but feel as if it had gone faster.

Tomorrow, I start swatching the socks. I am tempted to just dive right into casting on and knitting the actual sock, but I know that such an idea will only result in the wasting of time...the gnashing of teeth...the tearing of hair, and I only have a few hours to myself in the morning before I have to show up cheery and bright to work. This is another moment that makes me long for the days of an office job. Not only do I miss the phone and internet access that an office environment provides, but I miss the potetial opportunities for knitting at my desk that it could provide. Granted, it is rather brazen to think that I could knit at my desk, but there are ways around it. For instance, there are those little hiding spots in every office that affords you the luxury of privacy, but does not require you to take a coat or some other article that gives away the fact that you have left the building. Indeed not. The interoffice envelope is the perfect means by which to transport the WIP, and admittedly, the WIP should be something of a hat or sock size, so as not to arouse suspicion. Retail work offers no such outlet. I suppose I could hide my knitting in a box of newly arriving stock, sneak it back to the stockroom, and then hide out for an hour of knitting disguised as unpacking and inventory-ing (is that a word?) stock.

While I recognize that this is a horrible idea, I still ponder how I could get away with so bold an act. Afterall, I can bet that the stockroom is heavily outfitted with security cameras. And I know that time theft is nearly as horrible in the retail world as property theft. Corporate America seems to turn a blind eye to much of this and labels it white collar crime. I certainly do not mind being victimized by a man in a suit and tie; it is so much more palatable.

Even if I've lost my entire pension.

Here it is:


The second of three baby blankets. There are 45 stitches left on the blanket. Each row decreases by one stitch -- down to 5 -- and then it is is BO time.

This one is going much faster than the first. Indeed, that whole gauge thing is not a joke. Earlier this evening Joe asked me, "Uhm, the color...is it supposed to be like..." "Variegated?" I snapped. Will the parents understand and appreciate my selection of a non-traditional baby-colored yarn? Well, no matter what, they are bound by tradition to write me a nice thank you note, so I will never know their true feelings. I would like to beleive that I could knit a baby gift with black yarn, and the parents would still be moved that someone cared enough to make something for their child.

In other news, I am in possession of sock yarn, and I am going to do something about it.

Really, I am... There are projects beyond the baby blankets, but I have vowed to do one at a time because work just doesn't allow more than that. Otherwise, I would be buried in UFOs.

It seems to good to be true. Thursday was a day off, and I took Friday off -- not feeling well. I worked Saturday, but I had to rearrange this week's schedule to prepare for a store visit and an event. Thus, I scored Sunday and today as my two days this week!

Yesterday, was the sort of day that people describe as a great date in personal ads. Joe and I lazed around the house until early afternoon. We then drove to New Paltz for a bit of wandering around, poking our noses in various shops, and holding hands. We then drove up to Mohonk Mountain to watch the sun set, but it occurred to us that neither of us wanted to wait two hours for that event. We hung out for about an hour. I knit while he plotted his next hike on the trail maps he'd brought along.


Before sunset, we drove back into New Paltz for a delicious Thai meal.

Today, I did nothing but knit, chat on the telephone, and gather items to donate to a women's shelter. No errands, no oil change, nothing. I simply enjoyed having the day and the apartment to myself. It was heaven.

This is how I am spending my day off.


I wish I could have a few more days like this -- knitting outside whilst watching the kitty roll around in the grass and prowl over the rocks.


It is such a gorgeous day! It is a bit "close" in the apartment, but I am able to escape to cooler air just by opening the front door and sitting in the doorway.

Somewhere in the apartment lurks sock yarn and 3 more skeins of yarn that is to join with its comrades and form a tank (top). I have focused solely on the sounds of the birds in the trees, rather than the rumblings from my yarn box. I have co-mingled the yarn with the wool for felting. Lord only know what sort of hijinx all of that fiber is up to. I am sure it's more than a pure soul such as myself could handle.

It is far better to sit outside, baby blanket on the needles, tea at my side, and Snickers sniffing around the lawn and creating kitty adventures in her little head. It is a glorious day!

I received the email today.
Quincy and Anita had their baby. A boy!
Micah Tor -- very cute.


Here's the funny part: I started the baby gift to my cousin's child, even though that baby was due after Q&A's. My cousin's wife is given to early deliveries, so I gambled and bet in favor of my kin coming first. Not so.

I have neither a poker face nor a gift for odds.

Yes, today was a day off, however, I was required to "attend" a conference call, and my lack of organization forced me to go into the store to participate on the call. I did rack up 75 minutes of pay, however, I would have preferred the full day off. I believe that Snickers best captured my feelings regarding heading into work on a non-work day.


It was such a glorious day, and I must sadly admit that the most productive moment of the day was those 45 spent on the conference call.

I did manage to pop around the craft store, with a return and the thought of purchasing some yarn for another baby project I have also "forgotten" that I have two wedding presents due -- one is nearly 9 months overdue. Ironically, it's for the very couple who announced their pregnancy to me in the 9th month of the event. Actually, is that irony? I don't think so. It's something though, isn't it? I did finally settle on some yarn for another baby blanket.


Stop the ridicule! My heart's desire is to order some fancy hand-dyed yarn from South America, but I am so insecure about ordering online. Twice I have done it, and twice I have been disappointed. Wait a minute, I have won more auctions than that on eBay, and the bulk of the time, I have experienced a sadness when the yarn arrives. There is nothing wrongwith the yarn, perse; it's not quite what I thought it would be. It is a bit like internet dating: you see a picture, you read a description, and somehow, the real thing falls short of what you had mentally created from the picture and the description.

Uhm, with the exception of Joe. He is more than I expected, and often more than I hoped for.

Yesterday was a big day. I am not a mother, so that had nothing to do with it. Well, yes, motherhood did have something to do with it. In spite of leaving work early with a migraine (that's the first big item), I was able to complete the giant baby blanket! That is truly the biggest news of all.

Here it is:

Now, I have to start another baby project, and because I am a stubborn person, I want to knit another baby blanket. However, I have decided to use another pattern. While I recognize that it was my error with the gauge of the yarn that resulted in the creation of the baby afghan/adult lap warmer, I feel the need to knit a different pattern.

I found a free pattern online for a 19th Century Baby Blanket. Here's the rub: no yardage is given. Now, I know it is a matter of some simple math of working the gauge and the finished dimensions, but did I not mention that I had a migraine yesterday.

Here's the scoop:
500g of bulky wool
US # 10.5 needles
18 sts = 10cm
finished dimension: 36"x28"

Is there anyone out there willing to walk me through the calculation? Seriously, I am not a dumb person, but did I tell you that I had a migraine yesterday?

OK...

It is not that unusual to larn that two of your friends are pregnant, as pregnancy is often like death -- it occurs in threes. What is unusual to learn about one of those pregnancies a mere three weeks prior to the emergence of the new life in question.

As I related this three-weeks-until-the-baby-tale to my mother, she informed me that, while strange, it is not so unusual.
Gina: Who else would wait until 3 weeks until the birth to announce this?
Mum: Well, your cousin Nick and Linda are having another baby...
Gina: Really? When?
Mum: (I am sure you saw this coming) At the end of the month or the first week in June.

Hmmmm...this is distressing. Pride and ego (are they different?) keep me from taking the purchase a gift route; I am compelled to knit a gift. However, it certainly will not be a second go at the "simple" baby blanket -- which (need I say it?) is not yet finished. But I am delighted to say that the end is in sight. There are less than 100 stitches on the needle, so it should be quick work now.

In other news: The green thread required to sew finish the hat I made last Sunday? Still not purchased. In my mind, the hat is still a WIP. Sadly, the Tank Girl tank has officially moved from WIP to UFO. While I have accepted this demotion, I refuse to move the tank into the wool box. My conscience is eased by some rationale that if I see it; I will finish it. At present, it is out of knitting bag, nearly out of mind. I know what putting it out of sight would do. I have another hat stuffed in a bag -- high on a bookshelf. But I swear, I will finish that one as well. I am a lousy hand-stitcher, so I just have to buy a sewing machine. Mind you, I have been buying said sewing machine (to finish said hat) since August 2002.

This is a bit strange, but I have not seen my friends Quincy and Tata (the common Swiss nickname for Anita, so I am told) for many months. I moved away from Manhattan in September, and I have not been the best about visiting and such. Actually, I know that the last time I saw them had to be mid-December, as Tata and I attended a seminar together.

At the time, I remember thinking Hmmm...her sweater is a bit looser than normal. Her belly... Well, the fact that she hand a belly was alarming enough. But, I remember thinking, She's pregnant!

This past Sunday, I'd arranged for a pre-hat workshop coffee with Q&A, however, Tata doesn't come as she's not feeling well. After ordering, Q whips out his camera phone and shows me a picture of a very pregnant Tata. My mind swirls because she is huge! She's on-the-verge-of-popping-any-day-now huge. Turns out that the fondue party was the unveiling, and she's due at the end of the month.

So, now, not only do I have to find the time to complete the never-ending baby blanket for Baby Grace, I now have to cook up a hand-knit gift for Baby Q&A in 2-3 weeks.

But this is not the end of it. No siree. Not by a long-shot. I just hung up the phone with a friend in San Francisco, and she's informed me that she's in the middle of her first trimester.

Here's a shot of the Tank Girl tank that I was working on before all of the baby gift madness (2 monkeys, the never-ending blanket, etc.) began.

I think this is pretty much it's final state until my friends stop having babies!

Sometime late last week, it occurred to me that I still had an awful lot left to knit for Baby Grace's blanket, but I did not have an awful lot of yarn left. Actually, that was the revelation, because we all know by now that the blanket will probably best work as a picnic blanket.

This morning, I could deny it no longer. With 173 stitches on my needles, and needing to decrease down to 4, I confronted the simple fact that I most likely would run out of yarn somewhere aroung 25 stitches. How cruel.

Like a madwoman, I drove the long route to work because it was the route past the craft shop where I had bought the yarn. Admittedly, I was not 100% convinced that I would find a skein from the same dye lot, but I chose to see things differently this time. I brought the yarn wrapper, and I huddled in the rain -- without an umbrella -- for two minutes until the craft store officially opened.

I was on a mission: I had to find one more skein -- of the same dye lot -- and do it in record time. I had to be to work in one hour. Normally, an hour is a rather long period of time, but that is not the case when I stand in front of yarn, needles, or patterns. 60 minutes pass as quickly as 6 minutes.

Frantically, I pulled out all of the Ivory Sugar'n'Cream, and I checked each label's dye lot. 12 skeins. A dozen of "no luck, sister". Momentarily defeated, I pulled myself together and surveyed the other colors available. I decided that my only option would be to work in a second color. (Now I know that my other option was to buy the Ivory and then work alternate skein over the rest of the blanket, but screw that!) Alyssa suggested that I use a contrasting color to create one or two wide stripes in the blanket -- enough to buy me through the end of my final skein of Ivory.

I am not sure if I am completely thrilled with the results so far, but I cannot say that I have a choice in the matter. Besides, who would question a handmade gift...


Of course, I question the use of Cream with Ivory. I should have selected Peach or Mint, but I felt that it should be less obtrusive. However, the contrast is so slight that I have come to think that "obtrusive" would look like less of a mistake or a moment of insanity than "less obstrusive" does.

What an exciting weekend I had.

First off, I heard from a few long-time friends, and it was good news about relocating, starting a company, and having a baby. This was news from three different people -- least you think that I have some of the most over-achieving friends around.

Aside from that, there was a trip to NYC for a hat blocking workshop. Of course, I started the journey a full day in advance, so that I could work in a night with the girls and a trip to Jackson Heights (Queens) for a trip (or two) to the all-you-can-eat Indian buffet. Thankfully, no one documented the feeding frenzy.

I did, however, document the steaming and blocking frenzy from Sunday's workshop with milliner Jasmin Zorlu.


As you can see, I still have to sew in the sizing, as well as a lining. But, I must admit here and now -- I doubt the lining will ever happen. I will vow to buy green thread this week, so that I can sew in the grograin ribbon. But, I make no promises beyond that.

Anyway, here are two more shots of the hat:




23 Skeedoo!

May Day! May Day!

This is the cry for help from a woman who is sinking in the ship of her own making. I cannot work out how it is that I'm still knitting a baby blanket for a baby born in February. Mind you, I didn't start the project until March, but I cannot believe that this is taking me so long. Nor can I believe that this blanket is suitable for a baby, as it's so large. Given that the child will most likely by a year by the time this blanket arrives, the jumbo size is probably in my favor.

First off, I have worked out that in the past week, I have managed to knit a stinking 10 rows of this blanket. Now, if I had the sort of job that required me to spend hours commuting and hours in the office, I could rationalize that all of my time is going to work. However, I don't have that sort of job at all. In fact, I recently switched jobs, which allowed me the luxury of swapping a 4-hour train commute for a 1-hour drive commute. That leaves me with 3 additional hours.

Now, I'm not a math genuis, but my job does require me to calculate budgets, plans, sales goals, etc. This is simple math, and it causes me no grief. However, the reduction of commuting time should equal the gain of free time, however, the seemingly simple calcualtion of 4-1=3 is not computing.

If you are able to supply your mathematical explanation -- or the willingness to complete this bloody blanket -- do not hesitate to contact me.