The long Thanksgiving weekend was delightful! Joe and I spent time together doing silly errands and such. It really is those little moments together -- watching him chat with the owner of the LYS -- that warm me and remind me how much I love him.

In between cooking and repeatedly re-falling in love with Joe, I managed to fit in a fair amount of knitting. I finished a ChicKnits cowl for a friend and posted it Wednesday.

In spite of my desire to partake in Adbuster's National Buy Nothing day, I purchased yarn for a cowl for Joe's mother's birthday, as well as yarn for knit hats for Kevin and Lukas. These will be either Christmas gifts or birthday gifts -- depending on my momentum. Birthday buys me three additional weeks, but I fear that I am on shaky ground by procrastinating prior to starting.

Saturday, I attended Odd Skein Knitting with Barbara Kerr. Initially, I was hesitant, as it is not the sort knitting that I want to produce, but it was an amazing learning experience. If you ever have the chance to take a workshop with woman, do not hesitate. She is an excellent instructor.

After class, I picked up three skeins of Rowan's Big Wool Tuft to make Beau for myself. Knit on US 35s, it was a fast knit. Joe said I appeared to be knitting a Yeti with tree branches.


Since I finished Beau so quickly, and since I have until mid-January to start finish knitting for Kevin and Lukas, I popped over to the yarn store for another quickie knit for myself. Less than one skein of artful Yarn's Legend produced this little beret.

I followed the pattern on the label, with some additional rows for length. I like a bit more coverage for the ears. A bit of blocking will give my "interesting" (Joe's word) beret a bit more shape.

Back to work tomorrow? What? Are you kidding me?

Since I am far from my family and turkey makes me physically ill, it is quite easy for me to view Thanksgiving Day as a day off in which I can achieve precious little. Stores are closed, mail is not delivered, the list goes on.

Spurred on by Jennifer's organizing rampage, I have decided that today would be devoted to a bit of organizing. Frankly, pulling me away from the mounds of yarn, beads, clothes, books, stuff, stuff, and more stuff to have a famly dinner around the table is either a blessing or a curse. If the timing is off, I may well leave the floor strewn with whatever I am sorting when the dinner bell rings. Most likely, that pile will stay until the post-feast bloating subsides. Which could be days from now.

As for knitting, I have ripped out the start of Biddy because I suspect that I failed to knit the wraps properly when working back across. Of course, I could have taken the time to verify this either way, but I decided that I was not up to playing dectitive with my non-Rowan thick/thin yarn. Sometimes, it is just easier to start from the beginning than to tink back and forth over stitches that lack definition.

With one month before Christmas, I have been giving serious thought to gifts. In the past, I bought for four -- my parents, Dean (who has know me since the age of five), and my grandmother -- which allowed me to accomplish the act of Christmas shopping in one day.

Now that Joe and I are together, Joe and his two children are added to the mix. I also give a little something to Joe's mum, who was kind enough to let me drive her car prior to my driving license exam and car purchase.

Of all of the gifting I do during this holiday, which really is not that much, I find Joe the most difficult. Nothing would please me more than to knit something for him (and his kids), but he has warned me against this. He knows there will be a stiff penalty should he not wear the item. If I bought something that he did not like, I would tell him to return it. But a handmade gift is different. To reject it is to imply a rejection of the person who made it. Of course, this is not the reality, but face it... It would be crushing to find your handmade gift wasting away at the bottom of the laundry heap. One woman on the Kitty Board recounted finding her knitted baby layette set to her brother and sister-in-law at the local thrift store a mere month after the birth of the child. Ugh! My heart feels the searing of that cut.

Joe's big surprise was wonderful.

His company was celebrating their 15th anniversary, and the entire group was treated to a night in Manhattan, a matinee of Blue Man Group, and dinner at Carmine's. Generally, I am a supersnob about Italian food, but I was pleasantly surprised by the dinner. Given that it is a family-style tourist haven, the food was far better than I had anticipated. Even though I lived in Manhattan until last September, there is something special about spending the night in a hotel in Times Square.

I finished a project that has me confounded. My stitch guage is correct, and yet, the item seems a bit big. Maybe I just prefer my fit to be more snug? It is in blocking mode, so there is no turning back at this point.

My attempt to get to Seaport Yarn was thwarted by a lack of parking. Joe and I drove around for an hour, both of us too stubborn to pay $20.00 for an hour of parking. I am from Pittsburgh, where it is commonplace to balk at the rate of $5.00 for an hour of parking. I always like to see the look of shock on the face of an out-of-state driver when they hear the final parking quote, which includes some crazy 18% tax (in addition to the high rate and the 8.63% state & city tax).

I was certain that Seaport Yarn would house the elusive yarn for my Clapotis. Alas, I am still on the hunt; still without a suitable project. My knitting project blahs are deepening. Something has to lift this fowl gloom. Oh, Clapotis, I am sure you are the answer...You do you resist me?

I have spent the past two days pulling discontinued pieces of jewelry off of sales boards. The good news? It is Friday, and the day is done in a few hours. The bad news? This is set #2 of at least 10 more boards coming in. The worst news? I have to re-do all of the boards to send out to the sales reps before Christmas. Mind you, the designers have yet to finish and finalize the line.

In terms of knitting, I am in the midst of knitting doldrums. It is not that I lack a projects, unused yarn, or possible patterns. I have plenty of each. As a matter of fact, I have two Rowan patterns that have not progress beyond the first 3 inches of either pattern. The first is a cute top in Summer Tweed, which I swear makes me high every time I start to work with it. Also, there is the lovely Pagan in a very gorgeous silk/cotton yarn that is so splitty it would make angel curse like a demon. Additionally, there are three inches of my first wooly sock cuff. But enough of that! None of those patterns are inspiring.

Could it be the weather? It is too cold for either of the Rowan patterns, but it is not yet cold enough to push me to finish the socks. Frankly, I am in a knitting funk. I want a pattern that will inspire me to cast on and knit until my fingers are nearly bloody stumps.

Is it the time of year? Both Stephanie and Claudia (see Wednesday, 17 November entry) write of their own knitting blahs. Maybe there is something in the air...

My personal air has been enjoyable, thanks to the arrival of my Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab order. It took nearly a full month for the order to ship, but I am very pleased with the products I ordered. Smelling good is something upon whihc I place a high premium. Ever better? When Joe thinks I smell lovely.

Joe has cooked up something for the weekend, and I have no idea what it is. Frankly, we could be shopping for carpet cleaner, and I would be thrilled. It has been a long and icky week at work, so the time with Joe -- away from the routine of home, chores, and errands -- will be a delight no matter the event.

This blasted computer has a hypersensitve touchpad that likes to navigate me away from my blog entries before I have saved or published.

Anyway, on to the important stuff.
Presenting, the finished Chevron Scarf:

There is the small matter of weaving in ends to contend with, however, there are only four, so it is easy enough to do during my morning tea and news routine.

This experience with Koigu KPPPM has softened me a bit on my hard stance against variegated yarns. The result is so lovely that it has me giving a second glance to the Noro Fuji I bought a few months ago.

I was horribly disappointed when I tore open the box to discover that shock of Springy (rather than Autumnal as my monitor suggested) shades. Now, I see that the color scheme of the Fuji is similar to the KPPPMs that I selected, so maybe there is hope for this yarn. At present, it looks more like acid-tripping circus clown vomit to me than I care to admit.

I read somewhere that one of the great knitting ladies (maybe Elizabeth Zimmerman?) suggested that a knitter needs to hold and touch her yarn; ask it what it wants to be. I have a certain reverence for "things", but I have been the one who decided which became what. It never seemed to be a problem until I encountered a certain luxury yarn du jour.

Oh, we battled furiously. I kept ripping back and changing the stitch pattern, but still, I could not win. Finally, it came to me. I knew what the yarn wanted to be. Actually, I knew what it was to be before the yarn ever came my way. Obviously, I did what I had to do. I ripped it all out and started again -- for the fifth time, I believe -- and allowed it to take me to this:

Frighteningly simple. But, I cannot argue with the fibers.

This is one of the reasons I regard myself as a somewhat crap knitter.

No, that measley amount of yarn will not see me through the knitting of a ring finger and a pinkie finger. Did I bother to check my guage? Did I bother to do a bit of ripping back when I noticed that all of the finger lengths were definately more than my pipsqueak fingers required?

Had I done either, I might have enough yarn to finish the bloody gloves. Basically, I have learned the value of "save time; check gauge". There seems to be little I can do to salvage the project at this point, but I have decided that fingerless mitts will do just fine. Especially now. The house has had zero heat all day. The heating company showed up moments ago, so I am counting the minutes until I can run a hot bath and drain the fresh supply of hot water.

I have been hoarding one dinky skein of yarn from my two days at the Sheep & Wool Festival. Whilst reveled in their spoils, I slunk away with one meager skein was able to show only a meager skein of yarn.

Since it was a loner without a purpose, the poor skein wound up stuffed somewhere in the house. Inspiration hit Saturday. Gloves!. I found the pattern perusing Carrieoke's FO Gallery.

Given that large , dark objects go unnoticed in my house, how fitting that it took me a full hour to find the skein. It was lurking at the bottom of my knitting project basket. What the hell was it doing there? To Be Used Yarn is never mixed with In Use Yarn.

Even more fitting? I seem dangerously close to running out of yarn before I finish the second glove. If I manage to get both of my hands covered, I know that there will not be sufficient yarn to create the lovely little straps. Now, however, is not the time to lament my spendthriftness last month.

Hopefully, I will have something resembling a finished object to show later this week. I did work on the Chevron Scarf, but it is a laborious process. In contrast to the Sideways Glove yarn, I fear that the Chevron Scarf yarn will never end. Have I died and gone to knitting hell? Four rows of repeats from now until my soul breaks? Is that it?

Remember how I said that yesterday was a great mail day? Well, it was even greater than I realized. Apparently, I am so accustomed to giant trash bags around the house that I missed this: more mail.

No, I have not pilfered a sack of letters to Santa. This is how the local PO delivers packages that cannot fit in the mailbox.

What is inside?

Rowan Cotton Tape and Rowan Kid Classic purchased to help a fellow knitter in her Cash-For-Stash Program. It also saves me the effort of scouring the snowy landscape for yarn for “Carla” and a Teva Durham design in Scarf Style.

Less thrilling is the Lion Brand Incredible yarn for the Ribbon Tank Knit-along.

The Copper Penny color a disappointment, and it is taunting me horribly. Through some freak accident, I ordered 19 (rather than 9) skeins! Was I drunk? A hole in my firewall? A typo? What gives?

I might exchange it for another colorway or scrap the tank-along entirely. I have so many projects in the making (current and future) that I am wondering how this will fit it. Also, how will it fit in with my campaign to Dump the Frump? Will this be a hip addition to my wardrobe or something that I will eye with distaste?

Speaking of Dump the Frump…I probably picked the worst time to embark on this image makeover. There are 3 inches of snow covering the ground, and living where I do -- it’s just the beginning. While nothing is frumpier than snowboots, nothing is more ridiculous than teetering through the snow in heels. However, I am given to the notion that the ridiculous is often sublime.

If you have ever pondered the sensational moment of the diner scene in Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs, if you have ever justified your addiction to , if you ever analyzed the impact of Madonna on female culture, take a moment to tip your hat to Roland Barthes.

He is inarguably the father of the semiotic analysis of popular culture. If you want a slice of head-scratching intellect with your Friday night happy hour buzz, click here.

After a mail blight yesterday, I was delighted to find a nice stack of non-bills awaiting my return home. After six weeks, I finally received my Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab order.

Too late to use one oil to celebrate Dia de Los Muertos, I can certainly oil up and give a nod to tomorrow's Dia de la Revolucion Mexicana.

And if things were not exciting enough, the weather is making me a tad panicky.

That is not an alien landscape, but a night shot of snow accumulation in my yard. Granted, this is nothing, but for a new driver, it was significant. My commute involves a mountain with a 1450 foot elevation (441.96 meters). This should make for an exciting commute this winter.

If my entry title means anything to you, please share the information. I have no idea what that means, butI do know that it is some sort of military parlance associated with the battleship cruiser that bears my Uncle Angelo's name, the USS Carpellotti.

Not much is known about my uncle's role in WWII, as most of the documents are classified. At this point, I doubt that much of that information should remain classified, but the Pentagon lacks the personnel to pour over old files, re- or de-classifying them.

A big salute to Uncle Angelo and all of the veterns.

The user name of my Knitty Board Secret Pal II.

Thank you, Ana. You have been so wonderful and generous! Each package you sent was really three months-worth of gifting. I feel blessed.

The weekend was such a pleasure! In an uncharacteristic move, I slept in until 11:00am Sunday. Typically, I am prowling around the house by 7:00am. Of course, I did not sleep straight though until then, but I decided at 8:00am that I was going to have a lie-in, and I managed to snooze on-and-off for another three hours. What a shock to my system to be awakened so early today.

Happily, I made further progress on my Chevron Scarf,

and I purchased some Lion Brand Thick & Quick for Ubernatural. Sadly, I am still searching for the perfect yarn for Clapotis. Plans to visit the Morehouse Merino farm were thrown asunder by the New York City Marathon. Understandably, Alyssa opted to support her brother's marathon efforts over a farm tour and a trip to Sheep's Clothing.

I spent a few hours Sunday afternoon hanging out at the LYS, Yarn Central, chatting with the proprietess. We poured over the pages of Scarf Style, adoring pattern after pattern.

COFFEEEEEEEEEE
I need some badly now, as I drank some later yesterday, and I was prowling the house until 3:00am. I did manage to pick up knitting needles yesterday, and I did not poke my eyes out.

In some strange trick of the gods and goddess, my final Knitty Cafe Secret Pal II package arrived yesterday from the red state of Texas. I toyed with the idea of leaving the package to open today, given my emotional rollercoaster day -- Kerry's early concession (down), knitting class (up), and a fight with Joe (down). I was torn between immediate and delayed gratification.


While I am often given to delayed gratification, there was the matter of a pissy mood to elevate. My Secret Pal is Ana (whose Knitty Board name is still a mystery), and she spoiled me rotten over the past three months. Look closely, there are three great yarns: laceweight linen from Ireland, a sparkly yarn called Venezia, and Trendsetter Yarns' Charm. Just last night, I was eyeballing Charm in that very colorway, and pondering a little neck scarf for myself. Heehee!


And if those sweet yarns were not enough to keep me occupied, there were 5 skeins of Araucania Nature Cotton in a heavenly peach colorway. Ana also included a copy of KnitWit to feed my pattern book addiction.

But the highlight was the scarf that she knitted for me. A glorious concoction of Brown Sheep Cotton Fleece, Venezia, Charm, and pieces of dark olive raw silk fabric that she cut and sewed together.


Numerous attempts were made to get a clear shot of the multiple yarns and fabrics at play in this lovely scarf, but digital photography skills are lacking. Just look at this!

How does one go about requesting and/or declaring political asylum? Is there a process? To whom do I declare?
Canada: Armed with my university degree that included an emphasis in Canadian Studies, this could be a clear option. I recognize that Canada is a country, not a 51st state of America.
France: Unlikely, but I like the idea of fleeing to the country that voted not to aid a certain smirky fellow. I was the lady on the M5 bus learning French during the pre-war backlash. It was my personal statement, my personal backlash against the silliness of pouring out French wine whilst continuing to drive your German car.
England: Blair’s sycophantic adoration of Bush is far too worrisome. Although, I do miss curried chips.

While I respect our differences, I still scratch my head at the political motivations of voters.

Economy: Yes, the President can affect the economy, particularly when voting in the interest of corporate CEO buddies for the elimination of overtime.
Cultural conservatives: The term makes me snigger -- loudly. It is the largest misnomer out there. I hail from Western Pennsylvania, and I am fully equipped to comment on the depressing lack of education, teeth, logic, and culture that exists beyond the metropolitan limits of Philadelphia.
Electoral College: Please explain the need for an archaic system. Somebody.
Security Moms: Please mark my words; there will be a draft under Bush. If Armed Forces recruitment is down 35%, and the War on Terror is at least a decade-long war (according to Ashcroft), there will be a draft, Mommies. Your soccer star sweetie will go to war. At least war pays better than Wal-Mart.

KNITTING CONTENT
I am afraid to pick up my needles for fear that I will jam them into my eyes. I am utterly bewildered.

One Hunnerd

Yes, siree, I was the 100th voter in District 6, Dutchess County this morning. The process of voting wigs me out; I fear that I have done something wrong. For instance, I never remember that the big lever in the booth closes the curtains -- not my hands. I also get a little anxious with those little levers -- above the candidate's name? Below the candidate's name? Did I double-check that I voted for the people I wanted? What if I voted for the "other guys"?

In the end, and I am going to catch hell for saying this, my vote does not matter. With the existance of the Electoral College, I feel as if voting is merely an exercise, but it is an exercise I do with great reverence. Women fought hard for the right to vote. So in their name and memory, I get out there, and I flex my right to vote muscles.

I cast on for the Chevron Scarf. I am four rows into the pattern, and it calls for a color change. Conceptually, I understand adding a new color and working with two, however, I am fearful that I will somehow bungle the switching. I guess it is a bit like voting. I know how to do it, but I am filled with doubt at the moment of truth.

The moment of truth is at least 24 hours away. There are lawyers (on both sides) at the ready for voting calamities. I fear this election will be longer and more tedious than the seven-game NYY/BoSox series.

C'mon Mass -- ya' did it once. Let's do it again!