chasing that high

I loved knitting this baby sweater the first time around. Though I rarely enjoy making the same thing more than once, I figured knitting this pattern again would induce a mildly comatose but highly warm and pleasant sensation akin to being high on Vicodin. But alas, no. By the time I hit the button band and seaming, little as there is, I completely lost interest and let the thing hang around unfinished. I knew how it was going to turn out; I'd already seen this movie.

The addition of the crocheted flower was a suggestion made by one of our regulars at the knitting shop, and it's my favorite thing. I'm still amazed that I can crochet anything. Hell, I'm still wondering who's doing all the writing, knitting, sewing, painting -- anything creative -- around here. I look at things that I've made and fall in love, but I don't associate myself with having made them. I sense it's a God thing (meaning some force creates through me/us), for those of you who might know this feeling. Does anyone know this feeling?

Anyhow, though early on I found myself over knitting it, it's very sweet, and I'm eager to send it to Ailey, the baby girl of a friend who is my friend through Mister Stevens. And so the sweater is off to motherless Brooklyn*, which is appropriate, seeing as I know the baby's dad, not her mom.

*I have not read this book, but I have a crush on the title. Same with Bring Me Your Saddest Arizona, which I have read and did find beautiful and moving.

I leave you with the devil paw of doom.

Note to Heather: Hello, friend! The granny square blanket, part of which you see in the photos, is about 1/3 joined. The rest of the squares cry out from my sewing room floor, and probably will for at least another month.

the girl i love

I finished a new baby sweater and had a quick photo shoot on the lawn just now. I'll be back to yap about the sweater, but I want to share this picture of mischievous Mira, who commandeered my makeshift set, and pounced on my props. It's hard to get good pictures of her, because of her color, and because she's maybe a little ... hyper.

She'll be two this summer. Life has grown infinitely more interesting and full since she's been around.

knitting is not a punishment; it's a privilege

This is making the knitting rounds via Ravelry and all that, but I have to post it here. I adore CBS News Sunday Morning, which is where I saw this segment. Marry it with knitting, and I'm in deep.

eat this, not that

I'll tell you what. You know I just ate something good if I'm on here posting about it.

These days one of my main priorities is to eat well, which means more vegetables for one thing. The last couple of nights I've been using my little in-pot steamer to steam broccoli and cabbage that taste like big old forkfuls of responsibility. Not bad, those steamed veggies. Just not what you'd want to eat, more what you should eat. Tonight I decided roasting was in order, and I realized I'd never had roasted cabbage that I could recall. Roasting a cabbage seems so obvious, but odd at the same time. I asked my mother if it was okay to even attempt such a thing (read: I Googled "roasted cabbage"; I have come to think of Google as the mother I never had, one who gives wise advice on unlimited topics) and came up with a few simple steps. Where I would've gone wrong is in the cutting of the cabbage, which is best done in wedges, like this recipe. I don't eat pork, so I icksnayed the bacon. For seasoning I did sea salt, fresh ground black pepper, garlic powder, and paprika. I drizzled and rubbed on olive oil and let the cabbage cook for 25-30 minutes at 450 degrees.

The result is hands down the absolute best cabbage I've ever eaten. Really, one of the absolute best anythings I've ever eaten. Roasting cabbage elevates it from cabbage to something as close to God as food comes.

Eat this, not that. That being anything else.

(Photos courtesy of Apartment Therapy's the kitchn.)

kind of about cars, but mostly about birds (with a cat along the way)

I'm happy you guys like the colors of my scarf. I'm making one for Natalie, but I have to rip it out because the consensus in my knitting group is that the colors I'm using don't work as well together. Oh well. You win some, and others you start again.

I haven't been knitting/crocheting much this week. Instead I've been focusing on life matters, and it's been a week of great relief and even joy.

Today the weather was so nice that after running errands I didn't want to be in the house; so I took Elizabeth Gilbert's Committed and sat in my car, in my driveway, and read.

I'm a big fan of sitting in the car, at home or in random parking lots. During break times at my old job, I'd drive to Vons Supermarket on 3rd and Vermont, sit in the lot and eat lunch or daydream. I don't rightly know why I'm drawn to hanging out in parked vehicles. Maybe the indoor/outdoor nature of being in a windowed box, a small, movable world, in private but in public simultaneously. It helps to have a sun roof. Then you feel like you're camping out.

At home there's only so much car camping I can do before nosy Mira comes around. She peeks in the sun roof, sometimes swiping at me, then treads on the windshields, leaving lots of paw prints to remember her by. Sometimes she'll jump in the car and act all trapped, scrambling to get out. I gripe, but I love this cat endlessly.

The view through the sun roof is what inspired this post. The sky was such a gorgeous blue, and there were these yellow birds I'd never noticed before filling up the tree branches above my house. (I barely know a cardinal from a crow; so if you can tell me what kind of bird these are, please do.)

danke schon

This is a post to thank Stacy, Lisa G, Ellen, afrowalking, golden star, Summer, and woolanthropy. Some of you are my real-life friends, others I only know from this weird, wonderful Internet, but you're all so sweet to comment on my blog, even after I've left it alone for like ever, and you say the kindest, most uplifting things, and I love you for it.

That's what's really on my mind, but while I'm here I'll share a project.

You have to love crochet, because all you have to do is watch a little TV while you're doing it, and voila! instant scarf, or shawl, or baby sweater ... whatever. It's really fast, and since it uses more yarn than knitting, it gives you an excuse to buy more.

I crocheted this scarf from this pattern. I made it solely because I saw the brown (Lamb's Pride Cafe Au Lait) and green (Lamb's Pride Moss) yarns resting in their cubby at work, and believed with all my heart that they needed to be wed in a project. Even with maneuvering the stripes, the scarf only took a couple of days, working off and on, to complete.

i'm in the loop

Okay enough with the merry Christmas. It's February, for cryin' out loud.

I've been letting this blog sit because I'm not into chronicling my every fart; I like to post when there's movement on the knitting/crocheting/sewing/painting front -- some pretty thing to show and talk about. Or least when interesting things are happening. I lost my job at the end of December, and things just didn't look very interesting after that. It wasn't losing that particular job that proved a downer. It was having to dig down deep and find, at 43, the fortitude to pursue the things that are really important to me, like writing. I'm still digging, but I see gold at the bottom of the well.

In the meantime, I got a new part-time job, because it's good to have at least a semblance of a schedule. My new job is an "in-betweener," something to do while applying for work in my field. I started today, and I hesitate to call it work. My job warrants a post, because it's here:

(There's an adorable tiny Natalie on the porch because we took these pictures on one of her visits. I borrowed them from her blog. Thanks, Natalie.)

Knitting in the Loop, Houston's brightest, loveliest knitting store. Probably the worst possible place for a yarnaholic like me to work. (I like cake too, which is why you'd never catch me working at a bakery.) But the staff is ever so nice, the yarn selection is wonderful, and there's a steady stream of regulars who like to come sit and knit. Several of them belong to the knitting group I attend on Thursday mornings; so friends drop in all the time.

I told Judy, the store's owner, that she might as well go ahead and pay me in yarn. I'll need a part-time job to pay for this part-time job, yeesh. If you've never been in a knitting store when a fresh shipment of yarn arrives, you're missing a spectacle. It's like watching piranhas attack a steak. One of my tasks today was to put price tags on yarn. It would've been easy enough if my hands didn't keep fondling every hank I was supposed to price. And has anyone noticed how accessories keep getting cuter? My, my, my. I've got my eye on a little sheep that functions as a scissors fob. Retardedly unnecessary, but one is sure to follow me home.

If ever you should find yourself in Houston, now you know where to find yarn (and me).

i wish you a merry christmas

And a fabulous New Year!

but i do loves the crochet

I used to joke that the best way for me to leave a project unfinished was to do it in crochet. For the longest I couldn't fully appreciate the form, though I've always liked the fabric it creates. My afghan endeavor has shown me the light I tell you. When Ellen put out a call for donations to the Orphan Foundation of America's Red Scarf Project a few weeks ago, I decided to answer, but my creative calendar is pretty full. I started knitting a scarf, using this pattern. In a full evening I got a little past what you see in the sample photo, and I realized knitting the scarf wouldn't do.

My favorite way to tie a scarf. Its slight ascot air makes even the poorest scarf look rich.

I needed to be able to complete the project in a day or two, and if granny squares have taught me anything, it's that crochet kicks knitting's ass when it comes to speed (another thing Ellen always told us). If you're looking for quick turnaround and don't want to use bulky yarn, there's no better way to go. I ripped out the knitting, found a simple crochet pattern, and worked it up lickety split. (I don't know if it was masochism or hedonism that made me plan to make two scarves, but the reality of finals week at work set in and I had to simmer down and settle for one.) The yarn is a more-than-decent acrylic, Hobby Lobby's "I Love This Yarn!" Beat that for a name. Under 3 bucks and I could've gotten two scarves out of it.

Here's what you see when you open my front door:

168

It's nearly 3 a.m. Sunday and I'm up cooking turkey meatloaf, garlic mashed potatoes (heavy cream, heavy cream), steamed broccoli, and roasted zucchini squash. I'd planned to cook Saturday afternoon, but I swear sometimes I don't come to life until the middle of the night. I can't wait to see how the meatloaf comes out; I've never made it before, and as usual I combined a couple of recipes, didn't measure, and added a few flourishes. We'll see.

Thanks for the comments on the sweater blanket. I'm glad y'all appreciate it like I do. It defines cozy. The only bad thing about it is that it's hard to get up once you're snuggled underneath it. golden star asked a question about construction, and perhaps a few more curious souls might venture here someday. To that end, I'll say that since I don't yet have a zigzag foot for the machine I used, I straight stitched my blanket. It wasn't hard at all; in fact, what was born of necessity is now preference, as I would do it that way again. I think it's easier than fussing with the right zigzag width. It's cleaner and likely more durable too.

I tried to stick to a 1/4" seam allowance, maybe a little more, and where I went off I just trimmed down to that much. I basically sewed it like a regular quilt. To line it, I faced the right sides together and did the old sew-around-but-leave-a-hole trick. The hole was just big enough to pull the entire combobulation through. ("Combobulation" doesn't seem to be recognized as a word -- I am doing my best to change this -- but it's 3 a.m. and y'all know what I mean.) I closed the hole when I topstitched the blanket.

On the granny square front (is there any other place to be?), I'm now joining and edging my squares. I crocheted 168 of them, all approximately 6" x 6". I wanted my queen-sized bed to be well covered, and with edging and blocking, it will be.

Because Ellen does not play around when it comes to working in yarn ends while you crochet, neither do I. I don't have ends to weave in, only the last little tail on each square to crochet in as I'm edging and joining. This is a tremendous time and sanity saver. Another fabulous technique is the method I'm using to edge and join simultaneously. There are several tutorials on it, but the best one I found is here on YouTube. It's in two parts, and very easy to understand. You can read my gushing comment to the woman who posted the video, offering to have her sainted and telling her I'll send Schmin around to do her bidding. I've joined 18 squares so far, 150 to go.

I loved making the squares, but have to admit I'm relieved to be putting them all together. I wanted no two squares to be alike, and racking my brain to decently combine colors for the last 30 or so squares was borderline crazy making. Now it's white, ah, white. Actually a creamy color called Aran, but the point is I don't have to do any more thinking, which suits me fine.

ETA: 4:35 a.m. Shit this meatloaf is good.

straw into gold

More like old sweaters and a sheet into a blanket, but six of one, half a dozen of the other.

I've been wanting to make a felted sweater blanket fo-evah, ever since I saw this one in Alterknits a few years back:

I don't know why I like this book so much. Some of the projects I wouldn't particularly make -- I mean, reference this guy:

How he got that girl while wearing that sweater, I'll never know. A moment of questionable taste aside, the book always inspires me. I think it's because it has soft, modern photography; a very open kind of creativity; quiet loveliness; and Portland as a backdrop.

The front took me roughly from roughly 7 p.m. until 1:30 a.m. I still get crazy to finish things and stay up all night sometimes, but I would've put this one down around midnight if it wasn't for the fact that I was having the absolute best conversation with my friend V while I was working on it. Between the making and the wonderful, wonderful talking, time flew by. At about 2:15 I lay on the couch to test the blanket out, and that was all she wrote until I woke up and got in bed at 6 a.m. I got up a couple hours later and cut and sewed the lining. I so didn't want to line it; I already miss the stretchy goodness of the sweaters flying solo, but it wasn't quite warm enough. I used a faux denim sheet, and now it's just right.

This was one of those projects that I wanted to make in an instant. I told Natalie that I didn't want it to become a thing. The granny square afghan is enough of a thing, among several other things, now that I think about it, and I was after a quick and dirty fix. Not to mention that it was in the 20s last night; so I needed a cozy couch blanket post-haste.

The process of making it was fun and liberating. I started a section without too much thought to anything but not cutting the sweaters into too many pieces (thus increasing my workload), and other sections evolved from there. I love it when something takes over and you just go with it. I like the end result a lot, even though it's on the masculine side. Left to me, there'd be orange and brown here, probably instead of the gray. But finding 100%-wool sweaters to felt is the hardest part of making these blankets, especially when you live in Texas or California. In the men's section at Value Village, I managed to sort through the acrylic Cosby sweaters and come away with a decent haul, and I got a couple more from The Salvation Army. I paid from 2.80 to 4.90 per sweater (would've been more, but The Salvation Army was having a half-price day). What I wanted was a fabulous selection at 5 bucks all-you-can-grab, but that didn't happen. I'm definitely going to make more of these, and if ever I find the perfect sweaters to suit my liking (orange, orange, and more orange), I'll pass this one on to Mister Stevens or some other dude.

You should make one of these. You can get all fancy pants, stay more true to the one in Alterknits, or patch to your heart's content. Anything goes. My best advice is to iron your sections as you make them. I wasn't, but had to Stitch Witchery a couple of holes and noticed how nice ironing was making the thing look; so I kept it up. When am I going to learn that the iron is a true blue friend to mankind?

Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. I made this blanket on my new-to-me sewing machine, Blanche II, a Kenmore 1781.

I had to give the original Blanche away because it was too heavy to ship from LA, being in a table and all. That about broke my heart, as that was then my main machine, and I truly enjoyed sewing on it. I've been using this one for the little sewing I've been doing, but it's more temperamental than I like. Enter Value Village, my new hot spot, once again. A week or so ago, Blanche II was there to be had for 26 dollars. For shame, I neither cleaned nor oiled the machine before I used it, but it sews something fierce. It didn't come with any attachments or feet, not even a zigzag foot (or a manual), but because it's in such good shape to be 30-years old I broke my declaration only to buy tricked-out machines and picked it up. So far, I'm in love, but Blanche II will have more company one of these days, I'm sure.

Mira, my non helper in the sewing room.

an open letter to snow

Well played, Snow, my arch-nemesis, well played. You had them running for cover here in Houston yesterday, dismissing school, closing businesses early, preempting Oprah with endless talk of no one but you. You even fooled them into calling you a storm when you were really just a light dusting.

But when it was all said and done, I won this match, because I know you well. Yesterday I met you having journeyed through the Blizzard of '77 (and '78, and '79, and ...) in Toledo, and the Blizzard of '96 in New York City (and several more winters that were damn close to blizzardy). Zero Visibility is my middle name. I knew you were only teasing yesterday. You didn't frost me into a panic, oh no. Instead you made way for me to have a lovely, leisurely day, browsing an otherwise empty bookstore and noshing in a quiet restaurant where the service was excellent because I was one of only three patrons. And so I say to you, dear Snow, Thank you. This time, that is. If you keep coming to town, I'll go back to Southern California, where you won't find me, and if ever you do, there's always the blue skies of the Caribbean, from there, the Horn of Africa.

other than grannies (but grannies, too)

I've been so obsessed with granny squares that I haven't talked about much else since I've been posting again. Welp, there's not too much going on, thankfully, and the biggest thing is the best -- my sisters live here in Houston now. Have I mentioned this? I don't think so, but in my granny square haze, everything is foggy. Anyway, they moved here in August, and for a while my youngest sister, her daughter, and one of my middle sister's sons lived with me. I love my family, but that was painful. Now they all live in a big house about 15 minutes from here, and that's where I'm going for Thanksgiving. I'm in charge of macaroni and cheese. This weekend my niece will be coming to spend the night. She's 10, and we have a ball together. I'm teaching her how to sew and knit, which I'll blog about later.

For now:

* More granny squares. I've made 80 so far. I figure another 40 should do it.

* A paint job. I got this set of metal drawers at the Rose Bowl swap meet a few years ago. I keep thread in it, separated by color. It's very handy, but I've always been iffy on the two-tone green. I love green, just not in this case. I thought silver and cream would be better.

* A great book that I'm reading and visually feeling up every chance I get.

Since I've been getting my place together, I've been taken in by the decor websites, and by books on decorating. This one is called Home: 50 Tastemakers Describe What It Is, Where It Is, What It Means. It's not what you'd call a decorating book, more like biographical snapshots of designers, decorators, and trend forecasters in their own words, accompanied by peeks inside their living spaces. There are some recognizable names, like Paul Smith, Eva Zeisel, and Jonathan Adler, whose space I love, especially his bedroom.

How can you beat a bust of MJ on the coffee table?

Here are some other favorites of mine (so far).

Don't get the impression that everything in the book has a vintage/'70s vibe. It's what appeals to me, but there's a wide range of decorating styles here, and many unexpected interpretations.

There are lots of other names that if I were more in the know I'm sure I'd recognize, but I don't. This in my favorite quote, from (heretofore unknown to me) Li Edelkoort:

I also believe that creativity is life's insurance, because if you instill creativity even in the smallest children, they will have no fear, because they can improvise. Creativity is not about a nice interior or a nice wardrobe, or a sense of design. It's about a very subtle way to think and to realize, if this doesn't work, then I can solve things in another way; confidence and flexibility.

With its gorgeous shots of beautiful spaces and fascinating personal narratives, I can't recommend Home enough. I mean, isn't the place featured on the cover delicious? It's not particularly my taste (if I have any), but it's fabulous. Sometimes I reach for Home and stop myself from picking it up. I don't want the experience to end too soon.

I think that's all I wanted to share with you. Oh, except this --Happy Thanksgiving!

stax

this is not the way I planned things

I was walking past my sofa, minding my own business, when I noticed that the granny squares have taken it over. I pictured myself inviting someone in to take a seat, then having to clear the squares out of the way. It'd be like "Monk," where I'd painstakingly and meticulously put the stacks together, counting them and trying to preserve the integrity of the colors. It'd be a sad sight to see.

I finished the pillow cover from last post.

This is what's underneath. I'm showing you in case you ever need to make the world's easiest pillowcase:

And so the pretty squares are for my afghan. I'm working them with all Lamb's Pride Worsted, and it's love, love, love. I was fortunate to purchase boucoup skeins for 2 bucks each at The Great Black Sheep Knittery Closing Sale of 2007. That sale is the reason I'm not independently wealthy today. I even bought Lamb's Pride colors I didn't love much, in anticipation of knitting an afghan, maybe modular style. It's turned into a granny afghan, thanks to my buddy Ellen's influence, and I couldn't be happier. I did supplement a few skeins. I wanted a redder red than what I had, and it's impossible to have too much Chocolate Souffle, so I ordered that and a couple other colors today. I so enjoy the process of making granny squares, but this time around I'm rushing to the finish because I can't wait to get them covering my bed. I'll probably never get up again.

Mira says afghan schmafghan. The squares are good to go as far as she's concerned.

Waiter, there's a cat in my yarn.