BklnQ

Warming

That’s the post number. I totally missed post 666. Damn.

This week is supposed to be all about how old I’m getting and how you all should suffer for it. Or how you have avoided the cruelty and suffering because I took the week off from work and have holed up in front of my computer for the week or indulged my rare urge to spend like a Rockefeller and generally not thought about work. Or both. Sometimes I read too.

Then my employee resigned and I gave up two days of vacation in the middle of the week to nag him to document his work and to spend several frustrating hours with our job requisition software (that only an HR rep could love), losing what I typed every twenty minutes because the third-party software could not remember that I actually was logged in.

And J’s employer eliminated his job on Wednesday. Sort of. He still has work with his clients, but not with that employer (but w/o benefits). It’s complicated and too dramatic.

From χmas onward, I look forward to this one week a year when I have no real plans and what nebulous plans I do have are very flexible or forgettable. There is no planned travel. There are minimal appointments to meet. I only have to get up to feed the cat. I can stay up late (provided I still get up to feed the cat) or not. I can do chores or not. I can go somewhere or not. It is usually a week about nothing important. But not this year and I am not relaxed.

Next vacation: September.

At least the weather will be nice for biking this weekend.

Just what the hell is on the ceiling that the cat finds so fascinating?

Sunny, in the mid-sixties, with a cool breeze

This is the route of today’s bike ride—probably the last one of my 52^nd year, given the forecast for the next two days. The weather was near perfect, though I do like it when the wind is calm. While averaging 10.7 mph, it seems to me that I spent an inordinate amount of time waiting on stoplights.

My employee gave his two-weeks notice on Wednesday, leaving for a better opportunity. While I wish him luck, I’m a bit pissed about the timing. I’ve had to cut two or three days out of my week-long birthday vacation in order to catch up on all the tasks I’ve assigned to him over the past few years. It will be the first time in over twenty years I have worked any one day this week.

I used to take this week off to goof off and party in a very understated way, that is, with no one else. It was a good week to get a tattoo or piercing before summer. In some years I also took the week off to avoid biting anyone’s head off at work, particularly for the 39^th, 40^th, 45^th, 49^th and 50^th birthdays. Getting older makes me crabby. This year I just wanted to goof off alone and with J for a week. And with the loud and annoying Little Monster.

For some reason, the weather almost always seems to suck this week.

I’ve got an eye appointment on Monday and J is going with me to get new frames on Tuesday. I’m assuming that looking at frames on Monday with my eyes dilated will be less than optimal. I’m seriously considering changing frames for the first time in fifteen years or so. I’ve had three pair sequentially with the same frames. I’m not buying anything that makes me look older, though.

I’m probably picking up an iPad this weekend too. Or I might wait until next weekend and get the 3G model. But everyone says that 3G in NYC is a waste of money; you can never connect, so I might be getting WiFi sooner.

I’m working on a baby blanket for said soon-to-be-ex-employee. I thought I had a month or so to work on it, but now I have only a week. Wunderbar. I have also been swatching for J’s sweater. I’ve settled on a design, but I still need measurements.

Cold, still ice on the ground, but no more coming down, so far.

We’re back from Dallas and the Little Monster has never been happier. She follows us around the apartment like she’s afraid that we will leave again. She protested when just I went to the grocery.

The newfound love and affection hasn’t prevented her from adding a few more scratches to my hand. Three whole days without a hand to gnaw on. We had a service come in a feed and play with her as well as scoop out the litter-box, but we couldn’t ask them to sacrifice a limb. Only one revenge pee in three and a half days is pretty good though.

Dallas was fine. The trip was surprisingly hassle-free and all legs of the trip were on-time or earlier. The weather was perfect—80° on Thursday, almost as warm on Friday. I even got to knit outside for a while until I started to doze off.

We celebrated Mom’s birthday at Mario & Alberto’s in North Dallas—Tex-Mex, of course. There is certainly better in Dallas, but my sister and niece are not so adventurous. And no waiters were harmed despite their having sung Happy Birthday to my mom. I wouldn’t have dared.

Knitting

I had intended to finish the the second KPPPM sock in Dallas, but I left half the yarn here. I took some cream Austermann Barkarole to knit on the plane, trying to see what I could come up with in the way of a men’s scarf. I fell back on the Tunisian rib since I had neglected to bring a pattern book. It is a bit stiff on a 3mm, and it will take forever to knit the 475m I have in that stitch and I suspect that it will not be long enough if I try. This is one ball, knit out, 100 stitches, 14½”×3½”. That would give me a 5½ ft scarf in 38+ hours of the same stitch over and over.

Reducing the width to 75 stitches would give me the right length, but would not reduce the duration. What I would like is a slightly looser pattern, but not a basic k/p texture pattern. Any suggestions?

I could just move up to a 3.5mm needle.

I realized today that I finished my other sister’s socks without ever taking a picture. Damn.

Miscellany

1. I am too old to be chasing the Little Monster around the apartment.
2. The Half-Priced Books on Northwest Hwy in Dallas is worth the trip to Dallas.
3. Used book stores rarely have good knitting books. An entire book on duplicate stitch? I assume then that we are supposed to will the good ones to friends when we die?
4. Word Problem: The sweet twinkie, Sean, who was our flight attendant on the last leg of our trip (and admired my knitting while saying he had tried it, but didn’t have the patience for it) will be half my age no earlier than ten years from now. How old is he, assuming he is old enough to legally serve alcohol on an airplane?
5. Really, how does one flirt with a flight attendant?
6. Damn. I have to go to work tomorrow.
7. Having joined Ravelry, I realize once again that I can easily spend more time thinking about, reading about and writing about knitting than actually knitting.
8. How did my 16g stainless steel PA accidentally go through the airport metal detector undetected? I am now uncomfortable about what else can get through.

Ta ta.

Hey, Canada! Thanks for sharing your weather!

Sorta.

So I have to log in to work tomorrow, and Monday and Tuesday.

Tuesday. Did you ever think you’d live to see the day?

And I don’t just mean the day His Abysmalness leaves office, and there were plenty of times I didn’t think I’d live to see that. Of course, there was always the possibility of a Cheney coup.

I live in New York, and never once did feel safer with the Chimp in the White House. Or in an elementary school in Florida.

But enough of that.

This is wonderful. This brings tears to my eyes.

I’m not writing an essay on it, but that this is going to happen fills me with hope. We as a liberal, thinking people might survive.

We will be watching the inauguration from the warmth of our living room, not from the cold Washington mall. I might have considered going if 1) I could have thought ahead enough to reserve a decent room and 2) we weren’t flying to Dallas Wednesday to celebrate my mom’s ~~th birthday.

Wunderbar! Flying out of La Guardia. I’ll be the one with his head buried in a bag of knitting.

After thirty years of shaving, I’ve got to hope this fills in:

And here’s the Princess of Ceilings in a rare moment of calm. You will think her sweet and delicate, but she moves too fast to photograph when she’s not.

10 am, on a Saturday morning two days before xmas, I’m on a conference call to discuss on-going testing for a system conversion. And we’re trying to pack up and head up to Rhode Island to spend the holiday with J’s family. Tuesday morning I back in the office. This is not going to feel like a three-day weekend.

What to take to knit (quietly in the corner)? Nothing is currently portable, so I’ve packed yarn and dpn’s for socks.

I’ve made two cheese balls and J made some French Canadian pork spread—blech!—to take along. I forgot to buy crackers, so we’ll have to hit the grocery store when we get there. We’ve also got wine to bring. And a few presents.

I hope everyone has a relaxing and pleasant holiday.

Specifically, a hat in Noro Blossom.

When I started knitting the Noro Blossom, I thought, “This strongly resembles dust bunnies that a cat has been sick on.” Still, it’s not my favorite yarn, but it turned out nice enough. Completed in less than a day with slightly more than one skein of yarn.

The bulk of the remaining yarn will make a nice wine bottle gift bag. I doubt that I would ever use this yarn again. Why?

1. mohair
2. clumpy
3. obvious nylon bits
4. bad feel when running through my fingers

On the plus side, unlike other Noro skeins I’ve suffered through, this one had no knots. And everyone else seems to like the hat.

The relatively flat top was achieved with by decreasing nine stitches every other round until tying off the crown. I have to remember that.

[K₁: if you think A₁ will think it looks like cat barf, warn me off now. Otherwise, it's in the (holiday) mail. Eventually.]

Backtracking

I had what I thought was a relatively fine Thanksgiving day. J went off to his folks in the Crazy State and I stayed home alone, being antisocial. The highlight was snaking the cheap low-flush American Standard toilet that the condo sponsor had installed when the place was built. I kid you not, the last time it clogged, it clogged on three sheets of unwadded toilet paper. Literally, it’s cr@p. If I could find the model number I’d warn you off it. The snaking seems to have worked: fifteen days without a stoppage.

I had store-bought Thanksgiving tortellini for dinner.

Friday I drove up to the Crazy State (not to be confused with the Nutmeg State or the Bay State), picked J up at his parent’s house and drove to Ptown to visit Mike and Tom, our friends at the Grandview Inn. It was the last hurrah. They’ve sold the place and are moving back to Chicago. It was a fun, but too short weekend. We’ll visit them in Chicago, and we’ll still go to Ptown, but summer vacation will never be the same. Or fall vacation, or New Year’s vacation.

On the Subject of Vacations

Guess who needs to work the week between Xmas and New Year’s? At least I should be left alone to get some work done. On the bright side, I don’t have to go to an airport. Or sit on an airplane. Or wait for checked luggage. Or…

We’ll see my Mom in January for her birthday. Travelling should be more sane, at least.

BTW, does anyone know what I did with the green chevron scarf I knit last fall? I think I gave it to someone as a holiday present.

J & I went up to Hudson NY for his birthday—he’s Brad Pitt’s age. We drove up on Thursday, stopping at a couple of wineries, one of which was open. We picked up half a case at Millbrook, three each of a Cabernet Franc and a 2005 Chardonnay, both good for the price. We got to Hudson a quarter after three and walked around after settling in at the guest house. We decided to have a margarita at Mexican Radio, which turned into two drinks with chips and salsa and then into dinner at the bar. We stretched it out and left a bit after six.

Hudson is very quiet on a Thursday evening in mid-fall. The street was almost empty. There were only two interesting shops open after we left the restaurant. I bought two coasters from a shop selling Turkish ceramics and glass, and we looked in on a shop that had, among other things, some cute knitted things—women’s and children’s only—some hand-knit locally, but didn’t buy anything. We went back to our rooms and found it was only seven. An early night of TV and knitting.

Friday we drove up to Mass MOCA in North Adams, MA. For J’s birthday we go to museums and restaurants; for mine we go to bars and restaurants, and I go yarn shopping and he goes to museums. The museum was a great space and I liked some of the art, but I still occasionally got that feeling of a joke I just don’t get.

On the way back, we stopped at The Fields Sculpture Park in Ghent. This is worth a stop, a long stop. Acres of fields and woods and a pond with large, outdoor contemporary sculpture and installations. We only had a little over and hour to spend before sunset, but we could have easily spent the whole afternoon. Most contemporary art doesn’t appeal to me, but the big sculptures do.

We had dinner at Ca’ Mea. It was good. We stretched it out with appetizers, entrees, dessert and coffee. J really liked the rigatoni in pumpkin cream sauce.

We still got back to the rooms by eight. We played a board game and watched Roseanne on HBO. How could anyone marry that voice?

Saturday morning, we had brunch at Red Dot, walked down to Parade Hill the look at the river, then did some shopping, but didn’t buy anything. We hit another winery on the way back, but it wasn’t worth the effort.

I did try to get some knitting in, but couldn’t come up with anything I liked. I knit five or six different patterns, frogging them all as doing nothing for the Fleece Artist kid mohair/silk I have. It’s a beautifull yarn. Frustrating. I came back to Brooklyn with nothing more than frogged yarn.

I have finished my hat made of Debbie Bliss baby cashmerino leftovers, mostly knit during conference calls.

That’s the outside; this is the inside. [The color is more blue than purple.]

Generally, it’s reversable, but the inside has a k4p1 rib to fit better inside the k8p1 rib on the outside. Cast on 90, btw.

Otherwise. Doesn’t Brad Pitt’s middle look a bit thick almost human on the cover of Vanity Fair?