Rainy Daisy

Linking Beauty

2012-01-29T17:59:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you need a reminder of how beautiful everything can be. Going through the movements of a busy life can be hellishly dull. When I need a refresher, I immerse myself in light and color. When I can't do that (ahem. January and February, I'm looking at YOU.) I go elsewhere. Here are my most recent favorite links to soak up something beautiful, and feel ready to brave the gray winter.

thebloggess.com : both hilarious and insightful

The Bloggess - specifically her discussion of the Traveling Red Dress. It's utterly impractical, but that's what makes it wonderful. You can't feel bad about yourself in a ballgown, people.

The Beauty Department - I am totally not this type. I think I've worn lipstick in public twice in my life (still working up the courage). And if I blow-dry my hair, it's a big day out. But I like the ideas, the colors, the patterns, and the tips on healthy hair and skin, and the beautiful braids. My hair happens to be the longest its ever been in my whole darn life, so it's been fun to experiment with all the braiding recipes that the internet has to offer.

A Cup of Jo - Joanna Goddard is a real-live writer, as well as a blogger. She writes about all different kinds of happies, including vintage photographs, interior design and fashion, and living in Manhattan (sigh). And while the content is good, I really love her aesthetic - too many designers have descended into white-walled blandness. It looks clean, but is hardly realistic and certainly not lively. Besides, if I tried for a minimalist white schema, it would be a coffee-splattered schema within a day or two. Her photos and writing are just full of energy.

Roost - A former Seattleite moved home to Alabama, she cooks to suit her husband's very restrictive diet, and makes it seem more lavish than anything I could concoct with full access to all grocery aisles. I am charmed by the rustic, earthy vibe combined with eloquent quotes or bits of poems. And while many food bloggers get away with posting mediocre recipes with fancy photos, I can attest to the magnificence of her honey carrot cake with coconut cream frosting. Karma can too. *ahem*

Miss Moss - A vast gallery of collected things which are artsy, unusual, quirky, funky, colorful, weird, and wonderful. This is an uber-dose of beautiful.

Tattly - "Designy Temporary Tattoos." For someone who will probably never get a real tattoo, these are totally fun to play with. No regrets needed.

Anthropologie - This is where I go when I've got the "mean reds." Preferably, the brick-and-mortar store, where the prices are much less apparent. I don't really like the company or the people there, but as long as I'm left alone to browse and wonder, the aesthetic just makes my heart sing.

Happy winter! How are you getting by with these gray days?

Daisy

Communication

2012-01-22T13:42:00.000-08:00

I know it's been a while, but I can't apologize for my extended absence. Just as a conversation with friends is a blessing, sometimes so is silence. The time and space to think is ridiculously valuable these days, when I can't seem to escape technological stimuli. And my job this year, with some really wonderful troubled children, has left me with much to process, and little to share.

Still, I am more than ever aware of the need to put thoughts into words, even in small chunks, and even privately. I don't know if this is something that every human is compelled to do, but it feels right, so that makes it a fact in my book. (My book would be the opposite of science, though.) My observation has been that writing has the potential to heal the past and put the future into perspective. One of my old professors called it "telling your life as if it were a story." What words would you use to narrate your life?

Source.

One of my teenage students in this residential program was missing his mom terribly, so he bought a lovely leather-bound notebook and began to write his favorite poems in it. He gave it to his mom the next time he saw her, and she returned it with a poem or two of her own. They have continued to exchange this book for over a year now, taking turns writing thoughtful and uplifting quotes, poems (sometimes original) and observations in very neat lettering for each other to read and be comforted.

Antique calligraphy. Source

I thought it was such a beautiful idea: a collection of comforts. Communicating via poetry. Modern-day handwritten letters, preserved. And a testimony to the difficulty of his past year in our program. I can't believe my student allowed me to read something so personal.

I had a professor once who was intrigued by the things that people communicate via postcards. Sure, many of them say "wish you were here" and variations of that, but how does one condense an experience into a couple of sentences and a photo? They are their own poetry, in a way.

What to write..... (source)

Exhibit A of the postcard phenomenon: PostSecret.

The combination of art and poetry, along with unabashed intimacy, is purely stunning. And knowing some secrets of others offers reassurance in humanity, in the potential of people as a community.

How do you communicate best?

This. Is. Phenomenal.

2012-01-20T21:40:00.000-08:00

From my favorite new shop on Etsy. ani & Rose.

Good lord, somebody please buy this. This must be worn in public somewhere.

Boston

2011-12-31T10:04:00.001-08:00

I am sitting at Logan Airport in Boston right now, sadly without the SK - he'll be occupied for the next week with various terrifying interviews for end-of-grad-school opportunities, and I have to get back to my students and my Good Karma. But naturally, what better time to blog than sitting in an airport, thinking about patronizing the nearest pub?

I find myself continually enchanted by Boston. I don't know if all those bricks emit some kind of intoxicating fumes, but I can walk through the city for hours, trying to recollect pieces of different stories, real and imagined, that took place among those bricks. The Age Of Innocence (by Edith Wharton) has a lovely few scenes in Boston on the common.

Now, of course, there are other stories being told in Boston. There's a beautiful memorial to the victims of 9/11, the tail of which is shown below.

I am very curious to see what stories unfold in the coming year.

Cheers - and happy New Year, my lovelies!

Daisy

Traveling Shawl Over

2011-12-27T10:45:00.001-08:00

There are many possible strategies for travel knitting. There are mindless pieces for nervous travelers and more intricate work for people who are easily bored - although elbow and stash room must be taken into account. One would hardly make a tolerable airplane seat mate with elbows flapping through a difficult chunk of knitting.

I tend to prefer lace and socks when I visit the old homestead. Both use very little yarn and can vary between engaging and mindless knitting. Besides, they produce something both lovely and cozy. Regardez:

I suspect that my little sister could wear socks on her ears and still look chic. She had her 20th birthday a few days ago, which is the official age of adulthood in Switzerland, and a grand occasion. I completed my Eiina shawl to give to her - unfortunately, it was in a paper bag with needles still attached. After she opened it, I took it back and promptly completed the last row and the tedious crocheted bind off.

Do you hear that, Gweese? I CROCHETED FOR YOU. Now that's love.

More holiday knits to come. I hope you all had a wonderful holiday with food that evokes savory memories, something that sparkles in the cold, and someone who warms your heart.

Philosophizing is Easier Than Tinking

2011-12-20T04:48:00.001-08:00

One of the most significant things I've learned as a teacher is that there are many problems that cannot be solved by attacking them directly. Rather, like a hunting cat, they must be stalked, circled, and nipped from behind before the prey even knows a cat is present. This is particularly true for working with emotionally disturbed or mentally ill students who, at the tiniest hint of authority, will stand their ground with maddening conviction - no matter how nonsensical the conviction. Even though limited time and resources makes a quick resolution tempting (i.e. punishment! Punishpunishpunish!), ultimately any kind of quick fix will, at best, treat the symptoms, and at worst, cause a power struggle and upset a portion of the day and your long term relationship with the student. While "giving the man a fish," so to speak, is easier at the time, the chances of me "feeding" my students every day for the rest of their lives is about as likely as me knitting a pink fun-fur cozy for a nuclear reactor. No. Way. Dude. What these little hellions need more than anything is the ability to think and make decisions on their own. Thus, it is in fact my job to put them in difficult situations and allow them to struggle occasionally. I would say "if necessary," but there's really no "if" about it. Struggle is necessary.

The key is to get at the root of the problem and focus on solving it properly, instead of quickly. For example, when I'm still knitting a gifty lace shawl that should, at the very least, already be blocked and dried and wrapped by now, and I find that I've dropped a stitch (or two), it can be very tempting to just try and cover it up. A lesser human than I may even try to block it out, or throw a fit with screeching, throwing of things and punching of bus windows. But instead, after only a little weeping fit in the fetal position, I calmly tinked back and knit it again.

In conclusion, a very happy birthday to my gawrgeous little sister. Your present is going to be late.

This Day Was Made for Cooking

2011-12-17T11:58:00.000-08:00

There's a distinct biting chill to the air these days that cuts through the buttery sunlight, not unlike the baby teeth of my three-year-old self biting into a stick of butter. (true story). As we all retreat indoors and warily eye our collective thermostats, surely there can be no better time than cooking up some warm, hearty, and novel yums.

Cooling Outside Among the Mosses

Recently, three friends and I gathered for a cooking fiesta. I sacrificed my kitchen and just about every pan and utensil I owned toward cooking up 12 recipes from this book. It was a warm and happy day that didn't even remotely feel like work, as we all shared in the chopping, sautéing, and assembling. At the end, we all had a week's worth of food for about 25 dollars apiece.

These days, I've been staying warm by infusing brandy with spiced pears, and putting together cocoa blocks to keep good friends warm this winter.

Speaking of warm friends, a lovely girl with a bun in the oven (snicker) who also happens to be a chef has recently started a gorgeous blog of her own - Home Ec Flunkee. She's got a wonderful voice and great taste. You can't not love her. :)

Cheers! And stay warm!
Daisy

Yes.

2011-12-11T09:21:00.000-08:00

It was almost a year ago that I bought yarn for a beautiful cardigan, and wondered if it would be everything I had hoped, how it would transition from an idea to reality, and the very nature of pretty homemade sweater existence. Unlike the last post, where the sweater lit'rally* took me several years to see to completion, this one took almost no time at all, was a blast to knit, and I've basically been wearing it every day since I made it.

Yarn = Cascade Eco, x2 skeins. 10.5 US needles.

Beautiful cables courtesy of Cirilia Rose and Berroco. Pattern is Aidez.

So classy, no one even asks if it's "homemade."

My one teeny morsel of advice to other makers of this fabulous thing - if you use Cascade Eco (and why wouldn't you? It's awesome) be aware that the gauge is slightly smaller than Peruvia Quick, and if you're on the fence about sizing, you should probably go up one. I like the fitted look, but the fabric has to stretch a bit over my shoulders and arms. And I'm fairly sure I don't have particularly flabby arms.

So? What this sweater everything I had hoped for? oh heck yes. Raveled.
Gonna go curl up in my woolies with a book, thank you.
Cheers!
Daisy

*tee hee! I love Rob Lowe in Parks and Recreation. :D

Zen Frankenstein Barf, or something clever

2011-11-28T21:51:00.000-08:00

A few years ago, I had grand ideas and little else. I was unemployed and looking for cheaper ways to knit sweaters. On a thrift-shopping expedition with my (enabling) Mountain Sister, I happened to come across a silk-angora blend sweater. It was one of those tragic cases of a beautiful yarn trapped in a horrid knit, passed over for all eternity. Such small things can be the death knell for a perfectly good sweater - wrong color, wrong fit, wrong era. I thought giving it new life would be a worthy endeavor.


IT'S ALIVE! (Click for pattern)

On a wing and a prayer, I snipped the sweater apart and slowly (and painfully) unraveled the angora magic. It was a demure oatmeal color with flecks of white and a bit of halo. I wondered whether there would be enough for a sweater for myself (the original was an XL. Apparently in my head, I am too). I pictured a serene, sophisticated sweater that other stylish knitters wear - those that are too grownup for obnoxious purples and turquoises, but instead wear things that are.....gray. And black. And brown. Surely there is a whole slew of people who are satisfied with knitting grown-up colors all the time. Apparently I haven't yet reached that phase, because less than halfway through, I almost barfed every time I saw the oatmeal color. Including in my oatmeal. (See? This is why I'm not mature enough for oatmeal and brown colors).


She's so sophisticated. barf

So I guess it shouldn't be any surprise that I am less than enchanted with my latest finished object. Usually, once I start to see the pieces coming together, I get excited again. It's not a blob! It's a sweater-shaped blob! I'm going to be so frickin' zen in this! This time, for whatever reason, I just finished it so that I could check it off my mental list. And so I could say that I did it. After all, once challenged, I can't stop until I've followed through. Including self-challenges. I've gotten into trouble with those.

Sigh. Here are some pictures. They are of the actual thing that I knit, not things I'm using for humor to divert your attention.

Not bad, right? It's clean, it's subtle...perhaps even grown up. It's comfortable, like an old sweatshirt, but a bit classier. With the exception of a wider sleeve circumference than is preferable (leading to shoulder-puffiness - see below) there's really nothing wrong with it. It's just not my tune.

Beh.

The details are as follows: pattern is the Kimono Top from Knit So Fine, in seed stitch instead of butterfly stitch. I made the smallest size using recycled silk/angora yarn from an unraveled sweater, which happened to match gauge. I seamed it using another yarn - an ivory fingering-weight wool - as I was certain that the fairly fragile angora yarn would break with so much friction. You can't see the other yarn at all. I followed the rest of the pattern as written.

I feel a bit bad, though, insulting this poor Frankenstein sweater. It's perfectly nice. What should I do?
Cheers!
Daisy

Eating, Like, A Whale

2011-11-24T11:49:00.001-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving, Friends!

Karma misinterprets the phrase "eating like a whale." She's kind of a ditz sometimes.

I think there's already quite a bit of mush out there, so I won't suffer you through any more teary-eyed odes of supreme gratitude. Rather, I prefer to give humble thanks on a daily basis. But since I was graciously given the day off and allowed to cook to my heart's content and beyond, I will note a few wonderful happies that have graced me this year.

I am utterly thankful...

for my puppers, that she came to join our pack, and hasn't scared too many small children. Also, she has the bladder control of a saint. I don't know, but I imagine it has to be pretty good if you want some sainthood.

for my SK, who works his badonkadonk off, and still tolerates my shenanigans.

for quality, not quantity. This applies to food, friends, family time, work...and so forth.

for the subtle color variations in hand-dyed yarn

for my family. They are the charging dock to my iPod (*insert nerdy snort*). This past year has seem some wonderful things going on with them. I am proud and excited.

for good coffee and cinnamon rolls

for community, open-mindedness and hearty discussion

And you?
Cheers!
Daisy

The clickety-click clicks onward.

2011-11-22T10:32:00.000-08:00

Bouncing from yesterday's post, my new little gentleman-friend seemed to have arrived in the world not only with very few clothes (how humiliating), but didn't know anybody except for his mama and pops. I immediately introduced myself and another friend as well. They seemed to hit it off.

The pattern is the Lovable Toys bunny from Last Minute Knitted Gifts. Some US 4 needles with Wool-Ease created a fairly indestructible and washable fabric. The pattern makes a nice huggable friend, and I think the neck situation (always a tricky one) came out very nicely, even sans scarf.* And I love the ears. If I were a kid, I would drag this thing everywhere, grasping it by the squishy ears.

I have no false notions about what kids love (chances are, they love the thrift store teddy without an eye before they love something expensive or thoughtful). But this was so fun to make, I don't even care. The pictures alone make me happy :)

How do you feel once a knit leaves your possession, knowing that it may or may not be used the way you dreamed it would?
Cheers!
Daisy

*With toys, you can usually either knit the head and body in one piece, risking the no-neck syndrome, or you can knit the head separately and sew it on after, risking the floppy-neck syndrome. It's a bit dicey sometimes, but the trick used here to cinch the neck in an unobtrusive way works just fine. Just fine indeed.

It's not my fault that the scary parts of movies are also the quiet parts. (Clickety click)

2011-11-21T10:32:00.000-08:00

Contrary to the evidence, I have actually been a busy little knitting bee of late. The needles have been both a-clicking and a-clacking, much to the dismay of my fellow movie-goers. Stress will keep them moving - unfortunately, in an unfortunate twist of irony, stress will also steal the words out from under my fingertips (code for: i ain't been postin').

Shall we start with the furthest back? I am the lucky auntie of a charming young (very young) gentleman who seemed to have arrived with little to no clothing of his own back in June. To save him some embarrassment, I worked up a little bit of this:

And a bit of that....

Unintentionally gangsta. But with that cute little mug of his, he'll need something to make him seem meaner.

The pattern is The Baby Sweater Buffet, Snowsuit Edition from the Sweatshop of Love. The yarn is Wool-Ease. The buttons are 17 in number. (My sister-out-law is going to kill me) Conclusion: this pattern is so darn fun, I might knit up a me-sized one. With footies. And probably 18,934 buttons.

I also added a hood later, but didn't seem to take a photo. I mean, why would I? It's just hours of my life spent...... *SOB*

More to come from the knit life. (Stop laughing. I'm serious.)
Cheers!
Daisy

Occupy the Blog

2011-11-17T18:51:00.000-08:00

*Disclaimer* Please forgive the following political bent. Thank you.

The Occupy Movement makes me feel many things. I am appalled at the crazies on either side. I am disgusted by the childish logic that seems to pervade it. I am saddened by the losses - a drug OD here and there, police brutalities (although I'm sure there are fewer than those alleged...), and the loss of taxpayer money required to maintain police forces and renew the parks once protesters are removed.

Mostly though, I am angry. Which is, frankly, an unusual sentiment for this girl. Having tossed my sympathies back and forth to either side of the protest lines (Well, gawsh, the mayor is just trying to keep the city running!) I find I am particularly riled up by those who believe that what the protesters are doing is silly and meaningless.

Protester on the business end of the pepper spray. From the Oregonian

Granted - it's not well-well organized. It's not terribly efficient. They don't seem to have a particular goal, other than to be angry. And the protest camps happen to be the perfect breeding ground for lunatics and the homeless. And I love my country. I am terribly grateful for all the opportunities and rights I am given here.

...BUT...

Something is desperately wrong. When there is plenty of work to be done, and plenty of people who want to do it, there is no reason for unemployment to be what it is. Case in point: disgustingly overcrowded classrooms and thousands of unemployed teachers. The last job fair I went to had statistics indicating that there would be 300 people with a specific credential attending and interested in 23 jobs available suiting their qualifications. This is not okay. I have worked hard my entire life - I worked through college, I worked through grad school, I worked through my husband's grad school to support us both, and now my student loans are coming through, and I can't get a job that pays enough to cover both my rent and my student loans. Let's recap: I am well-qualified and want to work - and can't. I am not lazy. I am just a part of the 99%.

To be fair, I am managing just fine. I have a job (which is an improvement) and the government is still offering income-based repayment plans....which is a life-saver right now, but will rack up some more interest when all's said and done. I still have many blessings to count...including the fact that we live in a country which allows us to demonstrate and protest. But like the protest camps, the system with which our country functions provides fertile soil for corruption.

What can I do? My happy, yet sobering, thought for today is that of free speech.

Happy Hallowed Eve

2011-10-31T21:03:00.000-07:00

Happy Halloween! May you have a wonderful time doing one of the following:

pretending to be someone entirely different
handing out candy and enjoying the many and varied costumery of the youth
dancing at a party, drinking heavily, while wearing rabbit ears
eating candy alone and watching netflix
realizing that this apartment, too, is in a neighborhood apparently devoid of children, and stashing your candy away somewhere else while you watch old The Office episodes and knit a tiny pumpkin.

Le sigh.....

Also, the answer to this post was....Medusa. I knit a ton of tiny bendable snakes to weave into my hair to be Medusa. Sneaky, eh? My students thought it was clever....

Metal Embroidery

2011-10-30T09:43:00.000-07:00

This is nuts, and I love it.

Eggs! Get it?

Some wonderfully talented and artistic (and possibly mad) Lithuanian woman drilled holes in various bits of "shabby chic" metals and embroidered into those bitty little holes. It's just gorgeous, too.

Do not try this at home. (That's more a reminder for me than you)

You can find more at Odd Stuff Magazine.

Cheers!
Daisy

Bike Jam!

2011-10-27T17:54:00.001-07:00

Great news! I finally figured out a way to listen to music on my daily bike commute, without plugging my ears with headphones (unsafe) or attaching any kind of boombox (unwieldy). It involves hiding my iphone. Can you guess where?

Frankly, I think the bra has been too long overlooked as a viable storage device. And it's not like it's busy doing other things, like upholding my dignity. Got some spare cash you don't want to lose? Bam. Going for a walk with the dog, and need a place to stash extra treats and baggies? Boom. Coming back from the grocery store and ran out of room for your raw boneless chicken? Bang*.

Plus, it's about time I shared my early-2000s pop-punk with the world. Who doesn't love it? No one, that's who.

Besides, this just tickles me purple.
Cheers!
Daisy

*Dudes, don't really put raw meat in there. Besides the germs, it's false advertising. Let's keep it honest.

That pig....was it flying?

2011-10-26T21:33:00.000-07:00

Put down your milk, sit in a chair, and stop trying to balance rare Chilean vases on your toes, because I have a heck of a shocker for you - I crocheted something. I crocheted it, and finished it. And it works. I use it. I crocheted something useful!

Behold! Proof that hell hath frozen over. I crocheted! Successfully!

The story is this: my new job is housed in...well, a house - a particularly drafty one. And I'm apparently the only one who gets cold. The good news, however, is that we have an electric water heater thingy and lots of tea. We are a little skimpy on decent mugs, so - figuring that these suckers have to survive boiling on a regular basis - I thought a mason jar would make a fine tea container. And it does. As long as you have hands made of leather, or you would like to. Since I am of neither party, I found a mystery crochet hook and a mystery ball of cotton in the mysterious supply closet and whipped this up in my free time in a few days*.

Would you like some more good news? My other teachers have decided that knitting and crocheting would be excellent skills to teach our teenage male students. Even better? The students are totally psyched about it. I am now a knitting teacher! And *gulp* crochet....? teacher.....?

hoo boy...
Daisy

*The "pattern" (heh) goes like this: chain enough stitches so you have a strand just long enough to wrap around the width of the jar, but stretched a bit. If it fits perfectly without being stretched, take a few stitches off. Join ends together and work single crochet around until the length fits your hand, your jar/mug, and/or your fancy. Begin decreases like so: work a single crochet stitch in every other loop as you go around the circle. Complete one round and work a round of crochet in every stitch. Alternate a round of crocheting into every other stitch and a round of crocheting every stitch until you essentially reach the center. Snip yarn and fasten off last stitch by pulling end through final loop. Cinch together the hole with the end of the yarn and a yarn needle. Weave in ends, pull up over the jar, make tea and sip happily :)

Piles of Green Idiot Cord

2011-10-24T21:32:00.000-07:00

I am knitting my Halloween costume this year. Can you guess what it is?

On another note, did you know that the i in i-cord stood for "idiot?" Me neither. Thanks, Madame Zimmerman!

Cheers!
Daisy

Lessons Learned From My Bicycle

2011-09-28T20:35:00.001-07:00

Between the move and the job change, I find myself with a commute of 26, 13, 2 miles!* Oh, it is glorious, my friends! Even more glorious is that it makes a pleasant bike ride. Of course, I haven't actually ridden a bike on a regular basis since I was 15. For some reason, it's not quite as easy as when I was 15. Perhaps, however, there's a certain amount of shelter provided by a car - beyond the roof, I mean. Now that I am, almost literally and perhaps figuratively in the middle of traffic, I have made the following observations:

It's the little things that make a big difference. (*ahem* Wind. Potholes. Piles of fallen pine needles.)
There's no bad weather, only bad clothing choices. (And they can both change remarkably quickly).
You don't have to wear the spandex to be a successful bike commuter.
There is a lot of roadkill. I nearly hit a squirrel, myself.
There is an absurd amount of energy required to go up a hill.
Biking is the closest I'll ever get to understanding physics.
If a million people bike to work, others will still be impressed by the 101 millionth person to bike to work.
There is, apparently, a secret club of hardcore bikers who bike to work in the rain (or those who dislike the bus too much to seek alternate transportation), and a special nod to acknowledge fellow members.
You don't talk about bike club.
~~If you are in shape, you should have no problem biking 30 miles to work without sweating.~~ This is an ugly, blatant lie. I read something similar online. To whoever wrote it: um. No offense, but...screw you, dude.
There is no such thing as a chic corporate biker who shows up to work polished and ready to impress. I don't know what those bikers in business suits are trying to pull, but I don't believe it for a second
I am not nearly in the kind of shape I thought I was.
I am getting there quickly, and it feels pretty amazing!
Biking makes curling up and knitting at home seem well-earned.

Et vous? :)
Cheers!
Daisy

*yes, I have actually traveled 26 miles on a daily basis to get to work. I'm so sorry, planet!

On Sameness

2011-09-19T21:48:00.001-07:00

It's easy to celebrate the things that are new and different. It's tempting to blog only about those events that upset the normal routines. And wouldn't it be nice if every post could feature a stroke of brilliance? Heck, I'd settle for a finished object per post. Only then, a finished object would be totally NBD (no big deal), and there would be almost no point in blogging it. Natch. (aren't I just too cool?) Methinks I am particularly bad about this - if I can't have a random happy thing happen to me, then I will usually find an excuse to try something new, random and happy. I am, in fact, writing this from a fun new blogging app (Blogsy). For no other reason than "because I can."

It should be noted, however, that the real heroes are those that persevere. In all realms. In life, jobs, health, relationships, and hobbies. In truth, finding things that are new and different and exciting is quite easy. Sticking with one choice until it has fulfilled its destiny is less common, less fun, and sometimes even miserable. (ahem. Job-seeking.) But the reward for perseverance is worth more than the sum of its parts, the same way that one pair of finished socks is worth a heckuva lot more than fifty unfinished pairs sitting idly in the workbasket.

And what comes of knitting the same stitch over and over? Of taking your dog to pee in the same spots every day? Of reinforcing the same boundaries for students every single stupid day (no, you can't put your feet up on the desk, just like yesterday...)? Of washing the same coffee mug? Of sending out the same enthusiastic cover letter with application after application?

How about a finished object, a secure and happy dog, a child who knows exactly what is expected and how to be rewarded, and a gratifying morning ritual? And so forth...

What are the routines that make up the rhythms of your daily life? Do you still enjoy grinding beans for coffee, or appreciate the nuances of the changing seasons along your daily walk? Or, for that matter, the smell of your shampoo or warming up in your car on the way to work?

Dear Fall,

2011-09-18T10:56:00.000-07:00

Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls from the Kitchn

Okay, you can start now.

Love,
Daisy

What These Hands Hath Wrought

2011-09-10T21:14:00.000-07:00

It finally happened. I've gone entirely bonkers. Lost my marbles. Flipped my wig. Dumped my skunk. Etcetera. And since then, I can't seem to wash the bitty hairs of wool from my hands. I scrub and I scrub.....

It happened like this. I wanted to show a friend how stabbing fluff balls of wool with big long needles could yield utter cuteness. Or at least, some pretty fascinating abstract sculptures. I carefully demonstrated rolling bits of roving into a ball and carefully pricking it into submission and a recognizable shape. She followed suit with her own wool and imagination. As she pricked, I thought I would go further and show her how to create indentations by pricking the same location repeatedly. Then I showed her how to attach other bits of wool to the original creation, just by stabbing some more. I played with different colors, shapes, sizes of wool. At some point, I must have known my plans were going awry. It wasn't as cute as I'd hoped. Not as endearing or silly or even charmingly odd. It was.....going to kill me in my sleep.

MUA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!

I created some kind of crazed mohawk baby, complete with taunting tongue and nostrils. What is wrong with me?

I eat needles for fun!

I am going with temporary insanity on this count, but I would guess that you can't expect any mochimochi from this girl in the future. I guess the bright side is that I don't seem compelled to incorporate any freaky doll parts in my monsters*. You're welcome.

Loopily yours,
Daisy

*Those are all needle-felted, by the way, and frankly I think they're pretty darn amazing.

Beautiful Fall Cardigans

2011-09-07T06:26:00.000-07:00

I felt it the other day: the same sun is out, but the air is much crisper. The mornings are deliciously cool in a way that makes me want to stay in to read and sip coffee under a soft sun - not the same sun that greedily rubs its hands together and prepares to spew forth a mess of heat. Autumn approacheth. And as such, the knitters instincts kick into high gear and begin their wool-thirsty search of a beautiful fall sweater with cunning and positively scientific specificity.

This year, I am on the hunt for a beautiful cardigan. And since I currently don't have a sweater on the needles, due to a recent bout of finish-it-up-itis (pictures of finished sweaters forthcoming), I am feeling particularly itchy to start something new. What I have collected are my favorite beautiful, feminine cardigans from the depths of Ravelry to bring us all some autumn inspiration as we gird our respective loins toward the coming cold.

Little Birds, from Ysolda.

I love the unique shape of this one combined with the sweet, vintage-ish pattern and woolly construction. I feel as though I should wear this with saddle shoes and curl my hair. Charmed. Utterly.

Creature Comforts Cardigan, the Bookish Momma edition.

It's hard to say no to something so simple and cozy, with a bit of cabled love stretching up it. I find the dolman sleeves so dramatic in that accessible way. It's very weekend-at-the-cabin-on-a-lake glamorous.

The Myrtle Cardigan, by Snowden Becker.

I admit, it's sometimes hard for me to see past a beautiful photo, beautiful styling, or beautiful yarn choice to see the pattern for what it is - ultimately, in my hands, a series of charts inked on paper. When I obtain a pattern, unfortunately I don't always obtain the sweater modeled on it, and the part of me that loves this sweater could easily be mistaken for the part of me that loves that divine emerald green yarn. I have a hard time believing, however, that this could turn out to be anything other than lovely. The light fingering yarn in delicate lace with a garter stitch border...if I am ever unsure of my ability to stay classy under dire circumstances, wearing this lovely thing will surely rid me of any further doubts. (I should probably knit it anyway, just to be safe).

Larch, by Amy Christoffers

I am not normally of the sort who goes around knitting swing cardigans (the kind that button across the top of the chest instead of down the torso...or not at all, for that matter). Something about them makes me look like I have a bitty Daisy on the way. I also rather like wearing tops that give me some hint of a waist. But I don't feel threatened by Larch. In fact, I am rather enamored with it. Warm and dignified. This will be the sweater I wear, in slightly less-than-dignified colors, when I achieve my dreams of becoming a slightly loopy but passionate librarian. *sigh...* The darling designer also comes from Vermont, a place very close to my heart, and is donating a portion of what she makes on pattern sales to help the Vermont farmers who have had their livelihoods threatened by the flooding. Her patterns are all wonderful, I promise.


Twenty-Ten Cardigan by Veera

I'll be honest here - I love this sweater because it reminds me of my sister, Snuffy. It's lovely with a cup of quirky, and probably wears like a big old hug (Snuffy never could sleep alone).

Snowbird, by Heidi Kirrmaier

I admit, this one rather takes my breath away. It is a slice of zen. And I would guess that a knitter needs to be some kind of buddhist to get through all the stocking stitch, but its very simplicity is what's so compelling to me. And pockets!

I rather think at this point that all my research has only made my decision toward a new cardigan more difficult. I'm rather leaning toward Snowbird, but I shall wait for some inspiration to strike, having gathered my resources, and placate myself with smaller woollies in the meantime.

What strikes your fancy as the knitting season reappears?

Cheers!
Daisy

(Re)Discovery

2011-08-25T18:38:00.000-07:00

Holy mother of purl, you guys. I just found the greatest thing in the history of ever. Did you know that in many communities there are entire warehouses full of reading materials at your disposal? While Borders and other currency-dependent book warehouses struggle, this particular community warehouse appeared to be thriving, despite the distinct absence of monetary compensation in exchange for goods. I was asked for identification and given what I assume is a credit card with which they track my purchases of reading materials...until the day those mild mannered bespectacled women need a favor. Then, it's pay up, or donate your kneecaps.

Seriously, I don't know why it's always a surprise that I can get as much good stuff as I want at the library and not have to pay a dime. I feel a little like a criminal. I go in and breathe their precious air-conditioned air, sit at their tidy well-lit tables, and leaf through gorgeous photos and curious titles to books I do not own. And when I find something really good, I feel the need to peek over both shoulders to make sure there's no one around who might suspect I've stumbled across a bit of gold, smuggle it to the reference desk under my jacket and hiss, "Did you know you had this? and you didn't guard it or anything? Good God, woman. Quickly, make haste and charge this to my *ahem* account. Send the godfather my regards."

The library, apart from the pool, was the ultimate summer vacation target when I was a kid. Especially around August, when the weather would turn truly ugly, humid and buggy, and we kiddles would tire of each others' company (read: toys broken over heads). The library was a short walk or bike ride, was quiet and air-conditioned, full of entertainment, and provided my mom with at least 45 minutes of guaranteed peace. And that was before many libraries had a decent selection of movies. If I was feeling brave, I would wander into the adult section, distinguishable by its winged armchairs and painting of a serious-looking old man I later learned to be George Washington. Because who would put a painting of George Washington in the kids' section? No one who wants kids to have fun, that's for sure. And kids certainly don't properly appreciate wings on their chairs. No, sir. But they did have lots of big, fascinating books. Sometimes with bad words in them! (tee hee!)

While it seems weird that libraries are no longer such dusty and dark old places as they were when I was a kid (not in Portland, anywho) stepping into the cool air and surrounding myself with books still triggers something calming and happy. I can never escape with only one or two, but there's nothing guilty about it. No guilt!

Today's reading includes those books pictured about you. I went in search of a specific dog book and sat down with armfuls of them. The Knitters Almanac was one of those that I started at the sight of. ("IS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE HERE? FOR FREE?")

Amazing. Just amazing.

Cheers!
Daisy

Unnecessaries

2011-08-19T20:35:00.000-07:00


Espresso with Nutella. Photo stolen from the SK. (SHH!)

A long time ago, it was the "thing" to demonstrate how wealthy a person is by purchasing ridiculous, unnecessary things. When the lower classes were finally wealthy enough to own their own coffee pot, the middle class had to up the ante by inventing a chocolate pot, and then purchasing that as well. No joke. In our time, for whatever reason (economy, trend, or the availability heuristic of my being young and poor and hanging out with likewise folk), a person now gains street cred from their wild and wonderful discount-shopping prowess. What was once a source of shame is now a point of pride - take hipsters with their "vintage" (thrift store) threads, ill-fitting polyester pleated pants and all.

I grew up in a house where frugality was a virtue, certainly. On the other hand, so was supporting local businesses. We would cut back on some things so that we could spend on what was important to us. Like driving to the beach every summer. This is of the utmost importance when you live in a landlocked state. Now that I'm in the mess they call mid-twenties, what I learned about cutting back is even more useful. I can, and have, spent money on only what I absolutely need. It also makes an unnecessary purchase that much more thrilling. But when do you let yourself go, how do you decide what to give in to?

Rather, my question is this: "How do you choose which unnecessaries you absolutely need?"

Theoretically, we could all subsist on rice and beans. Plenty of people in the world do it. On the other hand, supporting a local farmer is healthy, tasty, and good for the economy, but plenty of people choose not to make that purchase, opting for cheap processed foods that eventually cause greater health expenses, statistically (also no joke). Some days, is it worth the latte if it helps you to psychologically confront your work, traffic, and office managers? Is eating organic important enough to me that I need to devote a significant portion of my budget towards food? And will Madeleine Tosh yarn give me the same therapeutic effect (and as pretty a garment) as a more moderately priced yarn?

The twist, perhaps, is that marketing is everywhere, and Facebook makes everybody's life look ideal. After a while, everything starts to seem necessary. At the Evil Soap Store (TM), customers have told me that they consider the outrageously overpriced lotions to be necessities. Some would come straight from cashing their welfare checks to purchase some good old stink-in-a-bottle.

Sometimes, I rather wish I had fewer choices to cope with. I could probably be fine with 5 outfits to cycle through, but I'm still annoyed at the way I get bored with eating the same thing more than a handful of times. (Gawsh, what's her problem, eh?). It would be easier and cheaper to be fine with eating spaghetti every night, but I'm afraid I'm already over the foodie cliff. And don't get me started on vet-recommended pet food vs. cheap kibble.

Personally? I suppose I spend my money on fresh food and living close to the city. I splurge on good coffee and proper pet care, and more often opt to go on a travel-related adventure than not...even if it means sleeping on my friend's hardwood floors. Those are my necessaries.

Charmed Stitchery

2011-08-16T14:55:00.000-07:00

If working on my quilt has taught me anything, it's mostly that I hate stitching by hand. There are some things that I'm picky about. The size or direction of my stitches is apparently not one of them. At least not until I step back and look at my work.

And yet...

Alphabet Sampler From Posy

Princess and the Pea, from Follow the White Bunny
Also, check out the Sweatshop of Love's!

Sexy Librarians, from Sublime Stitching (of course)

...these glorious patterns....they almost make me feel.......

Found on Feeling Stitchy

Yup.

Unsettling; or, Dog Park Drama, rambled.

2011-08-10T16:20:00.000-07:00

True or False: it is common for dog owners to know very little about why dogs do the things they do.

The SK says I'm not allowed to tell stories about what happens at the dog park because it makes people think I'm crazy. But....well, here we go.

Hanging out at the dog park is like watching real life soap operas take place on a small scale. There's a gang of Great Danes that rule the joint when they come by. There's a meddling husky that stirs up trouble. There's a small town Golden Retriever that innocently plays until another dog comes too close and gets snapped at. There's a chihuahua that humps anything it can reach...with its pelvis. Then everybody gets amnesia and starts all over again the next day. That's just the dogs, though. Dogs are reasonably predictable, and tend to be honest in what they communicate, if you understand it.

It's the people that are insane.

One lady screeched at her dog because it was sniffing another dog's butt. (There are great numbers of pheromone-emitting glands in that region that give information about the dog to the new friend...kinda like reading their Facebook profile upon meeting. Plus: it's what dogs do. Duh.)

Today, I (me, moi) got screeched at, because Karma (who, admittedly, is kind of socially stupid around other dogs) started a bit of a wrassle with her golden retriever. Nobody got hurt, but it sounded bad as the two dogs fought for world domination.

My point number one: screaming like Fran Drescher getting her ears removed will not cause dogs to stop wrasslin'.
Number two: her dog wasn't exactly submitting
Number three: if a dog really wanted to hurt another dog, they would do it. They have teeth and know how to use them. There are plenty of tumbles that are just an exertion of dominance, and have nothing to do with hurting anybody.
Number four: Karma has passed temperament tests and interacted with plenty of dogs without getting into tussles. What's the deal?

Now, I was hoping to have a pleasant afternoon without getting screeched at, so I couldn't think of a single thing to say back to old shrieky Fran. I am still, however, trying to figure out what I should have done... A) Calmly explained how dogs interact? B) Dropped a few F-bombs and backed into her car on the way out, because she's a bad, crazy person who won't learn without getting her own feelings hurt?, or C) .....um.....told Karma to go back and take an ear off? of the woman?

In any case, dogs really are a lot more intelligent than they are often given credit for. There have been studies done that indicate that dogs can count up to five and understand simple addition and subtraction, and learn up to 200 different vocabulary words (operating at a cognitive level similar to a human 4 year old). While dogs may not be able to communicate in spoken language, there is a great deal they can communicate. It seems important, to me, that dog owners should understand at least some of it. The best book on the doggie brain that I've found so far is Stanley Coren's How Dogs Think, and frankly, I think I could stop my search there. The book is brilliant, and very readable. Do take a look, if you're interested.

Maybe I'll go ahead and buy a copy for Shrieky Fran.

Cookies Save the Day!

2011-08-10T15:48:00.000-07:00

I love me some key lime pie. I'm a sucker for anything citrus, for starters. Second, if it contains cream cheese, then yes, I want it. And third... don't tell me you don't have a pleasant memory in which key lime pie was present. (sigh...Charleston, South Carolina...)

I have a problem. I hate making pies. I have no problem eating them, obviously, but something about the creation and formation of the crust just kills me. I would call them my white whale, but pie crusts and I aren't even on speaking terms at the moment. I won't purchase pre-made ones either, because dangit, I have all the same materials at home and could make one for cheaper. But I won't. We're not speaking.

Fortunately, the Kitchn dug up a solution for me, and for all y'all who are likewise teaching that uppity pie crust a thing or two. Key lime pie cookies!

Still Life: Lime Cookies at Night Time.

A little honey goes a long way towards making graham-flavored cookies that hold gooey limey goodness in the middle. I ran out of powdered sugar early, so mine are a touch more gooey than they should be, but I stuck the whole batch in the freezer. Thus, the goo is contained and the cookie-life extended. Plus, sometimes a frozen cookie tastes pretty darn good.

Radius. Articulate. Begonia. A short story....sort of.

2011-08-08T23:17:00.000-07:00

Roxie challenged me to write a short story using the above words. So help me, I can't pass up a challenge...even if it means deleting everything over and over because I'm so bloody sick of my own voice. I'm still not thrilled with the result, but it was good practice. Thanks for keeping the old writing-brain moving, Roxie!

Somewhere in the Midwest, a dull pencil sat heavily on a piece of college-ruled notebook paper. Both of the thin, shipped-from-China variety that lives in every local dollar store, the pencil had been sharpened repeatedly until there was barely enough left to clutch in three thin fingers and drag down the page. The notebook, too, was rather at the point at which most folks would have tucked it away and forgotten about it in favor of fresher, fatter notebooks. The boy sat with his long limbs tucked and his eyes utterly focused on his paper, as though curious to see what his pencil would produce. Though perhaps 12 years old, or a scrawny 13, he was oblivious to the other children. Other 12 year olds at the park that day were playing baseball or smiling with friends, admitting quick glances toward their co-ed counterparts. They frequently burst into raucous laughter as they told halting stories full of umms and likes. The sitting boy, however, watched his pencil draw a begonia, and hummed one long, droning note.

The heavy pencil and clumsy fingers produced a lovely, graceful blossom tilted toward the sun. If anyone were looking, they would have observed that this was an older begonia, petals slightly drooping with clearly articulated veins in each. Shadows swam in between each petal as they grew outward from the center, forming a perfectly symmetrical radius in every direction. The boy hummed. He dropped his pencil and tore the page out of his notebook, leaving confetti ribbons of paper stuck in the spiral binding, and a rough edge that curved into the widest ring of petals. The boy set the paper on the ground, humming, and picked up his pencil to begin again, another begonia, one petal at a time.

A young woman with an old woman’s eyes ended a conversation on a bench nearby, and approached the boy. “Ready to go home?” She smiled and leaned to look into his eyes.

“Ready to go home.” He spoke in a low voice and resumed humming, still watching his heavy, dull pencil on his paper as it circled, shaded, and slowly danced itself into drawing. The woman folded and placed the finished picture in her bag next to several other finished sketched begonias, and reached for his hand. He held his notebook and pencil close and stood up, whispering, “ready to go home.”

A Better Word for Mojo

2011-08-01T21:42:00.000-07:00

I have a confession. I have had time for doing fun things. Not only that, but I have had the time to blog about them too. Usually, I take some pictures and a few mental images for dissecting later, sit down to the Ceres machine (the laptop), my fingers do a clickety little dance and something reasonably coherent and even pleasing (to me) comes out.

Lately, the camera seems too bulky to bother with, and when I do carry it, nothing sparkles the way that it did. When I sit down to type, my fingers seem to shoot blanks. While I am thrilled to entertain others, my guiding force has been to write what entertains me...and lately that hasn't been a whole lot.

Maybe I'm recovering from a stressful end-of-school-year. (I have an exciting new job, by the way) Maybe I'm recovering from the move (it's a beautiful new apartment). But mostly, it feels like the creative force is on hiatus. I want to write. I try to write. Everything seems a bit stale. What do you do when you've lost your mojo? Usually a bit of something new helps me. This time, I think I need to just keep plodding on, writing things I hate until the rust shakes off.

In the meantime, I am finishing old projects* and finding comfort in repeat offenders...like a tidier Frankenblankie.

The transition to our fresh sparkly new apartment was facilitated in a frightening amount by our very dear, possibly saintly, hoosier friends. I would have gladly given my left foot for their generous help during moving day (a certain giant desk wasn't about to hack itself to pieces, now was it?), but I thought they would appreciate cashmere more than dismembered body parts.

Made from 6 sweaters - 4 of them 100% cashmere, and the other two a merino/angora blend, anchoring down the edges of the light blankie. The sweaters were hacked into 5 inch strips and sewn together. I backed the pieced blanket with soft blue flannel and tied at regular intervals. I didn't measure, but the blanket is bigger than mine and a generous throw size. It draped nicely off the sides of our queen-size bed, though it didn't reach all the way to the bottom of the bed. Bonus: one of the sweaters had super-cute puffy pockets that I kept in the cut strips, so that the blanket has two super-cute pockets at each end. Tehe.

I'm hoping this will be a good start and soon my fingers will be doing their clickety dance again soon on a regular basis, when they have again found their...er....necromancy?

*I know what you're thinking. Of course I'm bored if I'm working on old projects, right? But I'm honestly happy to work on and finish them - it gives me a feeling of greater efficacy, and of purging works-in-progress, tying loose ends....etc. It's not the projects causing all this trouble, no sir.

Yoda Ears

2011-07-14T18:17:00.000-07:00

The force is strong with this one.

In Which I Have A Lot To Say About Reading and Writing

2011-07-13T17:46:00.000-07:00

I'm toying around with a written project, but when I sat down to write the introduction, this came out instead. I rather like it, even if it's not what I was hoping for this particular project. I would love to hear thoughts on this.

In a stressed economy, logic dictates that one must shed the unnecessary expenditures. This may also be translated to include the making of practical decisions for a financially sustainable future. An increasing number of pre-college students are choosing to enter technology and engineering programs, while discussion of cutting the liberal arts is thrown around like a water balloon. As a Language Arts teacher, a Special Education teacher, and a great enthusiast of the public school system as a means to helping even the least likely children experience success, I venture to argue that the liberal arts are more important than ever. Furthermore, that I’m not a snob for saying so.

I have a job-seeking saga of my own, which I already know will never conclude in my final goal, since my end goals keep changing. Despite ignored applications, sweaty interviews and Dear John phone calls, I have never once regretted my decision to major in English at a private (read: expensive) liberal arts school. While the program could have been (and was) easily misused as an excuse for the “college experience” (read: drinking, etc.), for exuberant young readers such as myself, it was a gauntlet of cognitive challenges. I took classes in every subject and synthesized them into one project with a common theme. I researched. I analyzed. I taught. I traveled. I argued. I spent as much time carefully tweezing down facts for press releases for the school magazine as I did luxuriously expounding the virtues of Thoreau and his ilk. I learned to read for information, manipulate the information, apply it under a different context, and communicate it to others.

Can I build a computer? No….not yet. But give me a book on computer building, and I will build one, modify it, edit the instructions for clarity and to teach others how to build computers too.

Fact: people naturally evaluate intelligence based on verbal abilities. Since a significant chunk of our interaction is text-based (thank you, iphone) not knowing how to spell common words correctly or put together a cohesive sentence will significantly affect one’s relationships with others, including prospective employers and colleagues. Spell check does not catch every word, nor does it modify your sentences to say exactly what you are trying to say. It naturally makes sense that those who can listen and understand a large vocabulary in a variety of contexts are also capable of processing the language, making necessary associations to prior knowledge, and producing a response that sounds pretty darn intelligent too, even if the response is, “I don’t know much about how computers work. Please enlighten me.”

Engineers and computer programmers are rather lightheartedly thought of as poor communicators at best and devoid of people skills at somewhat worse. This is surely amusing, but is it a skill set we want an entire generation to have, just because the job market looks like it’ll pay out? Newsflash: I was told the same thing about teaching.

Poof!

2011-07-13T11:03:00.000-07:00

Scrap yarn = gone.

Presenting a bit of an experiment: The Puff Daddy Stool from Pickles. Rather than purchase a lot of yarn, I gathered up all the bits and pieces of acrylic in the stash and held them 5 strands at a time on US 17 needles and knit for as long as I could. From there, I mostly followed the directions, except that instead of purchasing 2 duvets for filling, I filled it with extra blankets and pillows from the closet. Not that I didn't want a cute, funky postmodern stool. It's just that I wanted to be sure that the pattern was everything I dreamed it would be before I spent any money on it.

Conclusion? Yes. Spend the money on proper filling and even matching yarn, if you get it at a good deal. This thing is great. It's a footrest, a stool, a lean-against-while-sitting-and-knitting-on-the-floor. Even with the improvised filling - which is considerably less squishy than duvets and has to be punched into shape. And even though I can't make my apartment as chic as the Pickles photo, it's still a fun addition to the house. In the future though, spending the money on a couple of duvets for the stuffing will be worth it.

Auditorally Rich

2011-07-07T18:04:00.000-07:00

I can't stop listening to the Penguin Cafe Orchestra. I had always sort of enjoyed classical music as calming background noise, or as something to aspire to in my fluting skills (although one flute hardly sounds the same as a whole orchestra). This is music I listen to actively, and as its creator Simon Jeffes originally intended, makes even average people want to do extraordinary things.

You may recognize one or two pieces already if, like me, you enjoy the indie flicks. Perpetuum Mobile was in Mary & Max. Music for a Found Harmonium was in Napoleon Dynamite. All of this music is just gorgeous, like pound cake for your ears. It makes me happy.

Home

2011-07-06T17:53:00.000-07:00

"House" and "home" are not synonymous. I did a lot of thinking on the topic when I was in college in New Hampshire, visiting my parents in Vermont, and the SK (then fiancé) in Boston. It felt a lot like living in three different states, and none of them really felt entirely like home. If you really want to complicate things, then consider that some say a person's identity is defined, at least in part, by their context. Are you the type to live in a 3 bedroom cottage cottage in the suburbs or a 3 bedroom apartment in an urban tower? Country or city? New or "vintage?" Busy or quiet? Functional or pretty? Attached to others' living spaces or not? Splurge on the big open spaces, or make do with minimalism? While your living space doesn't necessarily speak about your past and future, it can blab a whole dang lot about your present. Things like..."education might be her downfall." Or perhaps, "does not play well with others." Or "hip to be square." Or "hipster to the max." Darn those talking walls.

My mum just found her dream house: a historic brick house on a lake in the country, and made the courageous decision to make it her home. Knowing my mum's emotional attachment to the old place (not to mention a few of our own tugging heartstrings), I knit a replica of my childhood home, based on the Huggable Home pattern from More Last Minute Knitted Gifts. This way, when buyer's remorse sets in (as it does) mum will have her old home to squeeze.

That dormer, that's the window where my desk was. *sigh*

I made some modifications to the pattern, which are best described on the project's ravelry page. I knit it sideways and added some dormers, most notably. I also did a running stitch along the roof top and corners to hold its shape better.

While I still find it hard to conceptualize a thorough meaning of home, I think for the moment it must be somewhere between where you keep your junk and where you feel the most safe to be yourself. *To that effect, we have moved to a more home-like living space ~~closer to the city~~ in the city - with a lot of air and light, a very functional and beautiful kitchen, and much more room for Karma to play chase with Sophie. And with the fresh start, I'm hoping my creative juices will once again start a-flowing.

*I have to admit, I rather like this definition of home too.

In which the photos work? a Haiku

2011-07-06T15:27:00.000-07:00

My pretty sewn thing

Don't know why it took so long.

Ends are worth the means.

Good Karma

2011-06-13T20:58:00.000-07:00

Meet the newest member of the Daisy family:

Good Karma

She's a lab/shepherd mix, and already trained. She's a lovey and a half. And she knows how to make a girl feel better when they find out they are not being hired back for the following school year.

You know. Hypothetically.

Bollocks.

You may assume that there are many more crazy-dog-lady pictures to come. In the meantime, I have some serious make up work to do here. Knitting included.

Cheers! ...and happy summer!

Daisy

Much to Say, Few Words to....

2011-04-26T21:51:00.000-07:00

ABC's of Me....

2011-04-25T22:24:00.000-07:00

While I troll my favorite bloggies and feel guilty about neglecting to write so much as a complete sentence in the past couple of weeks, I encountered Allyson's post at the Sweatshop of Love, a unique-ish meme that seemed reasonable. After all, I'm really good at talking about school and not much else lately. This seemed like a good compromise....*ahem*

A. Age: 26

B. Bed size: Queeeeeen.

C. Chore you hate: cleaning the cat's poop box. *barf*

D. Dogs: You know how some people squeal for babies? I shriek for puppies. And all dogs are puppies. Except pugs. I'm very sorry but....ick.

E. Essential start to your day: Breakfast. Something sweet and coffee is usually lovely.

F. Favorite color: Colors look different depending on what colors they are next to. In general, I love turquoise, purple, charcoal gray, pale blue, sunny yellow...etc.

G. Gold or silver: Silver.

H. Height: 5’7

I. Instruments you play: Let's see. I played piano for five years, hand-bells for one year, recorder for one year, choir for one year but I got bored and quit and didn't sing in public again until years later when I did an open mic as a joke and my swim coach heard and asked me to do the national anthem...which was awkward, because my event was always up first in our meets, so I would sing in my cap and goggles and hop into the pool. Also, I played flute for eight years and still do, occasionally.

J. Job title: Learning Specialist. Or rather, Lieutenant Learning Expert. I rather like the ring of that one.

K. Kids: Sophie the little monster, and about 30 kidlets on my caseload at work. After all that, I can barely feed myself.

L. Live: First Vermont, then New Hampshire, then Boston, then Oregon.

M. Mom’s name: My mom has the same name I do, but spelled differently.

N. Nicknames: Well. My brother calls me "ugly," but it's a term of endearment.

O. Overnight hospital stays:"Overnight" is a bit dramatic, really. A couple of hours, tops.

P. Pet peeve: When people tail-gate me. Or smack their lips too much while they eat. And poor spelling.

Q. Quote from a movie: I have a million of these, but can't seem to think of any right now. Um. "O Captain, my Captain".........?

R. Right or left handed: Righty.

S. Siblings: Three brothers and three sisters, two half-brothers and a half-sister, plus one sister-in-law on one side, two sisters and a brother-in-law on the other side. * pants and wipes sweat *

T. Time you wake up: Around 6 or so.

U. Underwear: Cotton and colorful, and if they ride up, it'll be a bad day for all of us.

V. Vegetables you dislike: brussels sprouts. They taste like moldy feet.

W. What makes you run late: My kitties like to puke on my shoes when I’m not looking.

X. X-Rays you’ve had: I don't know that I've had one. I've had several echo sounds done on my heart, though. Doesn't count? No? I didn't think so.

Y. Yummy food you make: flourless chocolate cake, homemade ice cream, cookies, cinnamon rolls and anything else that will send you to an early grave in a piano-box-coffin.

Z. Zoo – favorite animal: The Oregon Zoo has this spot where you can watch the giraffes face-to-face while they eat. It's pretty awesome.

Hoppy Easter.

2011-04-24T21:31:00.000-07:00

I love spring.

I think I figured out why my cat won't leave me alone when I do yoga.

2011-04-03T21:04:00.000-07:00

Puppy = Playful


Person = focused on not falling.

The fact that she's not a dog might account for the trouble with translation. But then, I don't have a tail either, so it could be my fault after all.

Whatever Happened To.....(KCBW Post 4)

2011-03-31T21:52:00.000-07:00

I opted for the terrible self-picture that makes me look chubsy-ubsy instead of the one that shows you how nasty our bathroom mirror was. But seriously, the sweater looked much better in the other photo.

Behold! My first sweater in the history of everything. THERMAL. For some reason, after knitting a lumpy Lizard Ridge and half a pair of acrylic socks, I felt I was qualified to knit a sweater out of fingering-weight yarn with set-in sleeves. And while the sweater certainly has its flaws in terms of craftsmanship (so many, I won't bore you by naming them....) up until I knit Aidez, this was my most frequently-worn of my handknit sweaters. Funny how that works. I knit many things that contained fewer flaws, that were more stylish or made out of nicer yarn, but this is the one that was comfortable, warm, and rather cuter than a hoodie.

It still hangs in a prominent place in my closet, flaws and all.

KCBW Numero Trois: Orga-wha?

2011-03-30T21:30:00.000-07:00

How do you keep your yarn wrangling organised?

heh. funny.

I would like to say that I keep it tidy in my nifty little over-the-door shoe holder thingy, but that wouldn't be honest. Really, I have it strategically scattered about the apartment so that the SK doesn't actually know the full extent of it. A few special skeins here, a half-finished project with accompanying yarn there....in a box, a drawer, and tucked into the back of the closet.

I think, to be fair, that I have pared and continue to pare it down consistently (except for Christmas presents, which seems reasonable). I finally made a yarn purchase of ten dollars, and only because I couldn't find anything in the stash that was machine-washable.

I prefer to think of my collection not as "organized," but as "organic."

........

*coughcough* Not buying it? Me neither.

KCBW Numero Deux: Mad SkilLz, I Suppose

2011-03-29T21:23:00.000-07:00

Look back over your last year of projects and compare where you are in terms of skill and knowledge of your craft to this time last year. Have you learned any new skills or forms of knitting/crochet (can you crochet cable stitches now where you didn’t even know such things existed last year? Have you recently put a foot in the tiled world of entrelac? Had you even picked up a pair of needles or crochet hook this time last year?

Honestly, I don't know that I've done a whole lot of anything in the past year. One year ago, I was working at a hotel and knitting simple, peaceful things to take my mind off of terrible guests and terrible bosses*. I was doing some test-knitting of simple projects, and finishing the Forever Quilt.

This alone, I think, is worth some self-applause (*clapclapclap!*), not because I learned anything new, but because...well....does endurance count?

This year was not one in which I had necessarily set out to knit, but had knit steadily and meditatively along the way. I knit with intent, but not reckless abandon. I learned, most likely, nothing, except that knitting is still cheaper than therapy.

I did, however, conquer my fear of crochet!

Not very interesting, I'm afraid. I learned many many other things about work, people, and the world, but knitting was more of the buffer zone than the instigation. Maybe next year? Maybe I'll finally stop shuddering at the idea of doing fair isle or intarsia. Not that I can't do it, mind you. Just that I hate it. Also, I'm pretty terrible at it.

*Let it be known that my Cousin-Boss was the only reasonable person in the place. She also kicks serious arse at swimming the butterfly and turkey-cooking.

Weird Fads

2011-03-29T18:18:00.000-07:00

I get that sometimes fads are pointless. Or purposely weird (this includes both giant pants and obscenely tight pants). Or even wasteful, like how despite our established national recycling habit (mostly) kids are still ferociously gobbling up trends like wearing synthetic bits of elastic shaped like things around their wrists. (ahem. silly bands).

One trend I just don't get....why on earth someone would pay honest money for synthetic fruit, rocks, or balls of straw......to put in vases.

an entire aisle devoted to Things You Put In Vases

I try to purchase things, with my limited income for my limited space, that serve at least one purpose. A dual-purpose item is more likely. A zero-purpose item baffles me. This seems like one more thing that takes up space and needs to be cleaned. Does that mean I'm getting old?

Maybe this feeling is what people get when they see knitters paying lots of money for sock yarn, when obviously you can buy very cheap socks and not have to work at it. But it's not the same. I'll sit back in my pretentious armchair and tap my fingertips to wait for someone to explain to me how nothing is quite the same as having Stuff in a Vase.

*tappitytaptap*

I can't remember why I got on my computer, so I might as well blog.

2011-03-28T21:57:00.000-07:00

Hello there. Apparently there's a whole bloody week devoted to the celebration of knit blogging. Lovely. Shall we begin, then?

The first prompt is as follows:
Part of any fibre enthusiast’s hobby is an appreciation of yarn. Choose two yarns that you have either used, are in your stash or which you yearn after and capture what it is you love or loathe about them.

While I love what Allyson said about making knitting accessible to everyone, and the joys of knitting with affordably-accessible yarns, the tactile quality of knitting is what makes it such an immensely satisfying experience to me. And for heaven's sake, if I'm going to be spending hours and hours working with a yarn, we might as well get along.

Recycled silk nepalese yarn was my gateway drug, and the introduction to all the knitting planets beyond Red Heart. I found four skeins for 20 bucks on ebay, and finally "came out" to my then-boyfriend about my nerdy habit.

It was a royal pain to work with, the purse I made was most definitely not me, but it was so joyfully funky, creative, and exotic.

Number two: Malabrigo.

If the silk was my gateway drug, Malabrigo is my heroine. I know this yarn has its downfalls. I know the extent of most of its variegation is beyond my aesthetic capacity for garments. But you can't tell my fingers that. I can't help but love knitting this yarn. Combined loft and heft, rich tones, and soft, soft, soft. I feel as though anything I knit with this is a bit of a security blanket.

et tu?

Why It's so Goldarn Hard to Make a Quilt in this House

2011-03-28T18:16:00.000-07:00

Doodle Bug

2011-03-27T18:15:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it's good to not have an eraser at your disposal.

Then everything becomes part of the process.

Even two mismatched things like owls and fishes.

Or zombies and turtles.

(I like turtoes.)

One Last Pair of Christmas Socks

2011-03-25T11:37:00.000-07:00

Socked feet, à la cellphone cam.

Socks for Snuffy, knit from the amazing Dream in Color Knitosophy, in "Superhero."

Sproingy as a slinky on steroids.

The roving behind the label has nothing to do with anything, really.

Actually, I just couldn't think of anything else that is sproingy, but you get the idea.

And I thought the Superhero thing was fitting for Snuffy. She is deceptively cunning.

Plus she works at an after-school youth center for refugees, and eats Sriracha on dares.

Awesome.

Oh no!! Is it Snakes??

2011-03-24T11:35:00.000-07:00

WORSE: yarn ends that have to be woven in.

AIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

Instant Happy

2011-03-23T11:34:00.000-07:00

I'm a Lucky Girl

2011-03-22T11:31:00.000-07:00


Irish Soda Bread on Vintage Irish porcelain. Mason jar of Guinness in the background.

Reasons I am Profoundly Lucky:
♣ Irish. duh.
♣ Born the day after St. Patrick's day.
♣ I love my job so much, I would do it for free. Even after a bad day.
♣ I have a Swiss Knight who puts up with me.
♣ I have friends who agree to throw me a pancake party. Pancakes! at night! with wine!
♣ I have good friends all over the country who, for some reason, still remember me.
♣ My family still calls me up, every year, to collectively sing "Happy Birthday," followed by the 3 Stooges' version*
♣ my cat is so cute, she defies both dog-person mentality and being smushed after destroying things.
♣ I have not yet died from sugar overdose or wool smothering, so that's pretty cool.
♣ I continually seem to be doing things the hardest possible way, but I still seem to be getting through them, mostly successfully. Knock on wood. *knockityknocks*
♣ fresh crayons, chocolate, and wool hats from iknityouknot!
♣ reincarnating old hobbies.
♣ FREE TIME. SPRING BREAK IS AWESOME AND I HAVEN'T EVEN LEFT MY APARTMENT YET.

Good to be back - I have so much to share, I don't know where to start!
cheers,
Daisy

*
Song starts at 1:50, but the whole thing is fabulous.

Spotted in the Wild: Doggy Knits

2011-03-12T23:30:00.000-08:00

I love everything about this dog. Except the terrible phone photo.

I would knit Sophie a scarf, but she would wreak havoc on everything shredable.

In Response to Too Much Consideration of Thoreau

2011-03-11T23:24:00.000-08:00

Have you

ever in your life

done something with utterly reckless abandon?

O. M. G.

2011-03-07T20:39:00.000-08:00

Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough (wait, it gets better) inside Cinnamon Rolls.

From some saint at a blog called How Sweet It Is.

must. must. must. make. make. make. these. these. these.

What is REALLY Worth Sharing These Days, Anyway?

2011-03-04T19:36:00.000-08:00

What I am about to show you is so stupid, and so stupidly simple. Yet I was so enamored of my own cleverness, I simply had to document it. I hate spreading cookbooks out on the counter. They take up space, they get gook on them, and they always close on themselves. rawr!

I can't even remember why, but I had meant to put my book on the open drawer for just a moment while I cleared a space, and I realized that it was perfect. There was something underneath to hold it up, the lip of the counter to hold it open, and it was perfectly within my sight. Whywhywhy has no one mentioned this before?

And yet, I'm almost embarrassed to post this. Surely you all have come to clever solutions on your own, eh?

But revelations...they must be shared.

cheers!

Daisy

Tetris Kitty

2011-03-03T19:34:00.000-08:00

= squished.

We do not do this to our pets. Our pets, apparently, do this to our pets.

Maybe Sophie just wanted to be completely surrounded by cardboard, the same way I'd love to roll around in a big ol' pile of cashmere.....*sigh*....

A Question

2011-03-02T19:34:00.000-08:00

Q: Seriously?

A: Yes.

They do have Iron Chef wine.

And people actually buy it.

**We are not talking about myself essentially making fun of myself for buying it. I bought it to make a point. This is ridiculous. There, I said it. You're welcome.

Spring Bubbles

2011-03-01T20:24:00.000-08:00

I am in love with the quilt of the month over at the Purl Bee. The best part is....the circles aren't even that hard. No, wait - the best part is that you can play with all kinds of colors and fabrics. NO! Wait! The best part is that you don't have to worry about any geometry nonsense, because the pattern is appliquéd, not fitted together. Like little bursts of lovely, soda-poppy, springy, smooth happies.

Look What I Can Do!

2011-02-28T21:40:00.000-08:00

Just call me bi-stitchual ;)

It's only some granny squares, but I feel so very exotic.

Aidez is done. It is beautiful. I shall wear it every day. Phone or computer pictures won't do it the justice it deserves.

And despite the fact that I feel as though I have simply nothing on my needles (ahem. Besides a sweater, two bits of lace, and another blanket) I haven't yet cast on anything new. Because I'm pretty sure they don't call it "casting on" in crochet.

(Do they?)

Cheers!
Daisy

Now that Fun Fur is No Longer in Style

2011-02-27T19:38:00.000-08:00

Art Yarn: Scented yarn?:

.......no, no....thank you...

Say "Czeslaw Milosz" Three Times Fast

2011-02-22T21:44:00.000-08:00

In the Place of the Creator

Had you been given the power to create the world anew, you would have thought and thought, only to come at last to the conclusion that it would be impossible to conceive anything better than what exists. Take a seat in a cafe and look at the men and women passing by. Agreed, they could have been beings with immaterial bodies, not subject to the passing of time, to illness and death. Yet precisely the infinite richness, complexity, many-shapedness of earthly things comes from their being self-contradictory. The mind would have been without grace had it not been anchored in matter: slaughterhouses, hospitals, cemeteries, pornographic films. And our physiological necessities would have stifled us with their animal dullness, if not for the playful mind, cut loose, frolicking above. And the guide of self-consciousness, irony, could not have exercised in its beloved occupation, spying on the flesh. It looks as if the Creator, whose ethical motives people have learned to doubt, was prompted primarily by his desire to make everything as interesting as possible, and as comic.

~From Road-Side Dog, by Czeslaw Milosz.

Sunshine

2011-02-20T22:08:00.000-08:00

The Pacific Northwest is not exactly known for its ample supply of sunshine. And on one of those days where things start going wrong, and you look up and hope to see one thing that is good...you had better start getting creative. I don't know what is normal, but for me the dead of winter is like trying to drive with one eye closed. Don't know why. It just is what it is.

A couple of weeks go, the SK and I went to Seattle to see a friend. Besides the obvious sunshine that our friend exudes, Seattle itself is just plain lovely, and there's always something new to find. Unfortunately, it becomes increasingly difficult to find new things, because we keep finding favorites that we must come back to each time. I think eventually we'll just have to move there so that we can visit our favorite-thing-ever!! regularly enough. And right now, we have two favorite-thing-ever!! in which we must indulge every time - a certain vegetarian thai buffet, and vegan carrot cupcakes from PCC.*

Sidenote: You know how, when you have worked very hard, things taste particularly good? We ate vegan carrot cupcakes after sanding, priming, and painting two coats on Seattle Madame's entire apartment. Thus, they shall henceforth be comfort food, so declareth Daisy upon this day. End note.

So what is a poor Daisy supposed to do when Seattle is too far away for a quickie cupcake run to satisfy a craving?

Well, duh.

I found several recipes that came close to what I wanted, and adapted them to suit my needs. I didn't have any pineapple on me (shame, I know) but they came out very nicely regardless. With vanilla faux-buttercream, not the fake cream cheese stuff. The fluffy vanilla frosting is very important, I think.

It also doesn't hurt that the carrots came from the CSA and taste like several months of combined sunshine, or that the little sugar pearls are a bright, sunny yellow.

Also, simply having the cupcakes gave me an excuse to invite some friends over for a board game night. It might be gloomy outside, but it's sunny in here.

Totally BS'ed recipe after the jump.
Cheers!
Daisy

*I'm not vegan, I just play one on the internet. I think about it sometimes, but then I remember cheese. My darling friend, however, is a vegetarian who is allergic to dairy, which rules out most standard options for American fare. Fortunately, this provides us with many foodie adventures in Seattle, a perfect host site for our explorations.

Vegan Carrot Cakes for Cloudy Days

Finely grate enough carrots for 2 cups
Stir in 1/4 cup canola oil
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup molasses
1 cup sugar

Add 1 tsp salt
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1 teaspoon allspice
2 teaspoons cinnamon
2 cups flour

Pour into cupcake pan and bake at 350F for 25 minutes, until a chopstick (or toothpick. whatever.) inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool completely.

Frosting: (you can use a wimpy paddle attachment on a stupid mixer, or your own mega muscles and a whisk. Up to you. I have no preference.)
1 stick softened Earth Balance (or margarine, if it's more of an allergy thing, less of a vegan thing)
Beat "butter" for several minutes until fluffy.
Add 2 cups of powdered sugar and beat slowly until combined and crumbly.
Add 1 tsp of vanilla and 2 tablespoons of soymilk. Beat slowly until incorporated. Beat quickly to make it smooth and fluffy. If too runny, you can add a little sugar. If too stiff, you can add another tablespoon of milk.

Scoop frosting into a ziplock bag and snip off one of the corners to make a hole of your desired width. I put a decorating tip in before scooping frosting to make it pretty. You can do this without. Pipe frosting onto tops of cooled cakes to your desired funkiness. Embellish with sparkly sugary objects. Eat ravenously.

Ta-da!

P.S. Let me know if you try this. I tend to eyeball my measurements, and could have miscalculated the amounts. If something seems wonky, do let me know and I'll fix it.

How Shiny and Fabulous Everything Seemed, before it all went out of style

2011-02-18T21:29:00.000-08:00

Watch 1991-05-18 Clarissa Explains It All 1x09 Brain Drain.avi in Entertainment | View More Free Videos Online at Veoh.com

My MegaSis, about to finish her first year of college, has pointed out how many fabulous 90s shows are available online. Among favorites? Rocko's Modern Life. Doug. And Clarissa, of course. She was so darn stylish with her neon colors and her use of technology. Zoinks.

Nothing Sugar-Coated About It

2011-02-14T21:53:00.000-08:00

Hallo. I belong to the Swiss Knight!

Although a little chocolate and wine here and there never hurt anybody.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I hereby raise my virtual wine glass, and offer a toast: may every day celebrate love the way today does.

One way to get started: here's a beautiful story from the Oregonian, a couple married for 74 years.

And ravelry details for the anatomical heart. And yes, my actual heart has a smiley face on it.

Also, my Valentine post from last year. I still like it.

We All Need Ill-Fitting Sweaters in Terrible Colors

2011-02-12T16:36:00.000-08:00

Knitting - there is no easy way

It's not easy being us.

Survival Tactics

2011-02-12T00:51:00.000-08:00

My mum has very rightly pointed out that the blog has been silent of late.

My apologies, my friends.

Not any excuse, of course,

but 6 IEPs, a grad school work sample, 25 progress reports, scheduling 6 interviews among 4 members of a team only reached via email, and at least two kids who have chosen to disregard everything they know and do ridiculous things in school,

(even though they are being explicitly rewarded for explicitly-taught appropriate behaviors)

and every incident seems like a problem that must be dealt with Right This Minute

perhaps you can understand

Why putting a couple of words together into sentences

seems just

a touch

overwhelming.

And photos are just...just....sigh...

I will say the following three things:

1. Bobby pins make marvelous cable needles. Probably better than actual cable needles.

2. Fingernail clippers make very serviceable scissors, especially when you are buried in a sea of unwashed dishes, laundry, and bits of paper that seem to grow out of the carpet itself, and the actual scissors seem to have vanished.

3. Pudding. Simple, easy pudding. And Caramel pudding. Yum.

Minimal ingredients. Marvelously comforting. Lovely roasty-sugar flavor.

I have lots of ideas for things to write. Don't get me wrong, But it seems that all my writing and/or creative energies are being spent elsewhere lately. Thank you, for realsies, for sticking with me. More reasons to be happy very soon.

Cheers!

Daisy

The Emerald City

2011-02-07T18:38:00.001-08:00

What Makes Me Happy - A Guest Essay by Roxie

2011-02-03T21:08:00.000-08:00

I am easily pleased, which means that I am often pleased. If you expect every night to be the fourth of July, and every day to be Christmas, you’re in for a lot of disappointments. If you expect people to remember your birthday or to buy you exactly the gift you have been secretly wishing for, or to put you’re your wishes and needs before theirs, you may as well get over your bad self, because you ain’t all that important in the great scheme of things. If, however, you can accept that every breath you draw is a gift, every morning you wake up is new day, and all those Pollyanna platitudes that annoyingly cheerful people like me are spouting actually have a basis in reality, then you can settle down to enjoying the good things you have.

Warm socks make me happy on cold days. Iced peppermint tea and a hammock in the shade make me happy on a hot day. Indoor plumbing makes me happy. If you have ever spent a year with an outhouse, then every flush of the toilet will bring a smile to your face. A lapful of purring cat makes me happy. A dog romping in the grass makes me happy. A pretty woman strutting along the street, young couples dressed up for prom night, an e-mail from a friend, all make me happy.

There is nothing wrong with being happy over the simple things. In fact, if you can’t enjoy the simple things, then you’ll miss most of the best of the tricky stuff.

And simple things are always there. On the worst day of my life, I looked up and saw a birch tree in the sunshine. It didn’t change the things I was dealing with, but just thinking about that tree gave me a place to rest in my mind. And oh, we need those places to rest.

If you can find happiness in buttered toast, in a smile from your bus driver, in the fact that no one is shooting at you today, then your life is going to be a LOT happier.

What makes you happy?

More of Roxie's adventurous and thoughtful writing can be found at Sanna's Bag.

Lackadaisical

2011-02-03T21:05:00.000-08:00

Once again, my creative energies are being spent elsewhere. In fact, I can barely hold it together enough to write full sentences at the moment, which is a bit of a problem, as I have a work sample and progress reports to write this weekend. Besides, it's hard to drag my mind away from the fascinating little kidlets lately. And really, any stories I tell can't be better than Stark Raving Mad Mommy's, or this one from the Onion. (I can't stop watching that).

Blah blah blah. The point is that I implored darling Roxie to contribute her thoughts on happiness, and where it comes from. The best part is, she actually agreed to it! Stay tuned for happy thoughts...

Why Thank You For Asking...

2011-01-31T21:07:00.000-08:00

Aidez and I are having a grand time. I love the yarn. I love the pattern. I see beautiful, twisting cabley progress very quickly. I hate to say anything before the ends are woven in and the pretty thing blocked, but we are getting along splendidly. Like the kind of person you meet, but you feel like you've known forever. Very easy to get along with.

So far, I've finished the back and the two front sides. I cast on the first sleeve tonight. Hee!

Cheers,
Daisy

On making something from Nothing (not to be confused with making mountains out of molehills)

2011-01-30T18:59:00.000-08:00

Here's the thing. I know we have food, because I bought it and paid for it, and my credit card statement even proves it. But when I'm hungry and I go looking for something to munch on, I can't seem to find much of anything. So today I used my day off to clear off whatever was lining the shelves of our cupboards and baked up a storm. I made pumpkin oatmeal bread with plenty of brown sugar, to take with me for breakfast. I made apple crumble from some fruits that were just a day or two short of the compost pile. And an extremely interesting butternut béchamel lasagna from a blue ballet squash that we got in the CSA. And by "interesting" I mean the kind of interesting I could definitely get used to.

Source

In any case, it's nice to think that I can turn a kitchen full of what felt like jack nothin' into food for the rest of the week. Kind of like, well, turning string into sweaters, turning scrap fabric into a quilt, turning seeds into veggies (not that I'm any good at that), and pretty much anything else that catches my eye. It's also comforting to know that there are fresh veggies, even in the dead of winter. This something-from-nothing, this is definitely my favorite magic trick. And the best part is that it's not even magic.

Cheers!
Daisy

Things I Started and Never Finished.

2011-01-28T21:41:00.000-08:00

*ahem*

Poor quilt top has been neglected...

My Daisy quilt. Lordy me, I love this thing. I even have all the layers together - I just haven't gotten around to the embroidery. Mostly because I'm terrible at embroidery and don't want to mess it up.
Learning Spanish. I have the basics...is that enough to put it on my résumé? iEl gato es loco!
Cooking my way through a sea of - really beautiful - cookbooks. Many of them vintage. Le sigh...
Turning a pretty frame into an earring holder. I swear, it'll only take me an hour, but have I done it? Um.....
Sewing a beautiful lunch bag from a kit from Queen Victoria. I have all the pieces cut out and all the materials I need. I keep thinking that when I'm done with paperwork, I'll go ahead and sew it together. I've been carrying my lunch in a paper bag, thinking that the pretty sewn one will be done any day now....and apparently it's not taking the hint. I think this one also has to do with my fear of my own god-awful sewing abilities.
Fixing the socks I made for SK two years ago that were slightly too long. Seriously, this one should be so bloody easy. What is wrong with me?
Studying information on gardening for all the grand supplies I bought in order to create a respectable kitchen garden, which then turned into some flowers, a few small strawberries, and a couple of herbs that I cooked with maybe three times because, you know, they didn't really go with the recipe I was making that night. Plus three blighted tomato plants.

Sometimes it helps to have time to mull something over...the use of a technique, the placement of the pieces, or just for the processing of information. I haven't finished some things because I'm nervous about a tricky bit, but with time and practice, the tricky bit could warm up to me (I'm looking at you, embroidery...). However, something tells me my reasonable amount of time has expired for most of these. Gotta get my booty moving on these. You know....eventually.

Utterly off-topic: one thing about being busy is that my mental filter rather slackens itself, so I don't always edit what I say or do as carefully. This makes it easier not to over-think things, but I think you can guess the danger, as well. Let's just say, I'm not always the "sharpest cookie." Especially when I am supposed to say something to someone across the room at the biggest hallway-intersection of the school.

So that's fun then.

Cheers!

Daisy

Wendell Berry: My Newest Celebrity Crush

2011-01-27T21:36:00.000-08:00

In a dream I meet
my dead friend. He has,
I know, gone long and far,
and yet he is the same
for the dead are changeless.
They grow no older.
It is I who have changed,
grown strange to what I was.
Yet I, the changed one,
ask: "How you been?"
He grins and looks at me.
"I been eating peaches
off some mighty fine trees."

Perplexing.

2011-01-26T20:43:00.000-08:00

How is this for an unexpected demographic created by the internet: mormon hipster mommies? And apparently they love to blog? And shop vintage? Curious. I think it stems from growing up in a big family, which is equally likely for the Irish Catholic folks (ahem). Otherwise, I s'pose you'll have to read about it in this article.

the basic messages expressed in these blogs -- family is wonderful, life is meant to be enjoyed, celebrate the small things -- are still lovely. And if they help women like me envision a life in which marriage and motherhood could potentially be something other than a miserable, soul-destroying trap, I say, "Right on."

Apparently I'm not as culturally-aware as I thought, because this one never crossed my mind. Intriguing though. You can read a couple of good ones at Rockstar Diaries and Underaged and Engaged. I appreciate the joy they take in making home a nice place. They make me feel both wildly creative and optimistic, and also a nagging feeling about how desperately I would miss my job if I became a stay-at-home anything. But life is so gloriously glossy in blog-form, isn't it? Some days, I'm more than happy to revel in someone else's fantasy life.

In Which We Are Terribly Classy

2011-01-25T22:48:00.000-08:00

We needed a mid-week break and an excuse to try out a new toy, so we purchased an offensive amount of aged cheese and made a raclette with some good friends. It's traditionally a peasant dish, but the combined flavors of footy cheese, sweet pickles, fatty dried meats, and starchy potato are really amazing. And some friendly chatter and silly jokes most definitely brightened our week.

What do you do to survive a long week? I've got a silly adolescent rock show lined up for next week. I know it's ridiculous, but they are one of the bands that the SK and I fell in love to, and they haven't toured in forever. It's meaningful enough to me that it's worth the silliness. :)

Cheers!

Daisy

Top-Notch Teaching Books

2011-01-24T21:30:00.000-08:00

Hello! I wanted to share with you some of the best teaching books I've read. And I've read one or two. These are mostly for fun, with a few helpful bits here and there.

Anything by Jonathan Kozol - his writing gets me all kinds of amped up, and is probably more philosophical than entertaining.

Teach Like Your Hair's On Fire - by Rafe Esquith. I bounced back and forth between loving the classroom and resenting the teacher. I'm not sure why. Maybe a certain amount of self-importance? Still worth reading, believe it or not. I got some good ideas from this book.

I am a Pencil - Sam Swopes. Sam Swopes is a reporter who guest-teaches writing in an inner-city school. Despite the fact that he's not a "veteran," (teachers tend to be suspicious of advice-givers who haven't actually taught) this is still a very charming story. I may or may not have choked up at one point.

Small Victories - Samuel Freedman. One of the few books I've found about teaching high school English. It's not exactly from the teacher's perspective - she's too busy - but a reporter who follows the teacher around for a year while she fights for her inner-city kids to keep them out of the military as a last resort, drives them to college interviews, and generally spends every minute of every day finding ways to help her diverse classes read, write and succeed. It's fairly raw, as far as inspirational teaching books go. I loved it.

Educating Esmé - by Esmé Raji Codell, my personal favorite. I might end up reading this every year. It's the diary of a teacher's first year on the job, but a teacher in a newly-opened Chicago school, back when nobody wanted to teach except those nutsos who actually enjoyed it. She erases what the kids think they know about school and reinvents it, drawing on every ounce of creativity and exploration available in their capacities. Rather than gush, I will say this: I want a reading time-machine. So badly.

Why You Should Never Spend Money on Cats

2011-01-23T17:35:00.000-08:00

Because of styrofoam.

And cardboard.

And plastic bags.

And balls of paper.

and of course....

the piece de résistance...

little bits of plastic

that no one has ever found useful

but cats can't get enough of.

Besides,

if you ask Sophie,

she'd rather you spent the money on treats anyway.

Waking Time

2011-01-20T22:34:00.000-08:00

Thanks Google Images!

I think the first time I ever hit the snooze button on my alarm clock was when I was 23 years old. In all my years of early rising, I got up when the alarm rang. Every. Time. It kind of blows my mind thinking about it, because once I started hitting Snooze, I couldn't seem to stop. Particularly when I didn't like my job, and the light at the end of the tunnel seemed more and more distant. And suddenly, even now that I like my job, getting out of bed is terrible some days. I think, perhaps, the secret to waking up well is digging yourself out of bed the first time around - it just goes downhill from there.

In fact, it's really a wonderful feeling to have enough time to make coffee properly, and do some gentle yoga while it's brewing, just to remind my muscles what they were meant for. I used to get up every day to go swimming, and I was marvelously alert. I even looked forward to it. I think it's time to bring that back.

What helps you wake up peacefully?

Old news, big happy

2011-01-18T18:48:00.000-08:00

This is probably just news to me, but has anyone played Little Big Planet lately? It's really a fantastic game - and I'm not the sort to condone video games easily. It's adventurous, creative, dream-like, and involves a bit of puzzling too. The base character is this adorable little knitted creature. I was having some chill time with some equally adorable kids (they aren't babies, so it's not babysitting, natch) while they played some pretty intense levels, some of them created by brilliant folks in the online community. Neato. And great to see our fiber arts popping up in places that are usually much cooler than I am, like video games.

And speaking of "old" and "video games," I discovered a way to play cheesy old DOS games for free. Enter Boxer for Mac. It's an application that helps convert ~~probably pirated~~ old games to an updated system. Lo and behold, they also have many of said old games available. Boy, a couple of those take me back to when I had to elbow my brother to keep him from taking control of the keyboard. Not mouse....keyboard. Woohoo!

Fabulous Compliments from Fabulous Kids

2011-01-17T18:00:00.000-08:00

Kids are fun to work with. They are so honest. They are not yet aware enough of social etiquette to break its rules. And when they like you, they really like you.

The following is a list of my favorite compliments from my sweet, quirky little kids.

You are kind of beautiful, you know. (Matter of factly, and then refused to speak to me for the rest of the day)
I like your neck.
Your hair smells delicious!
You are not awesome. (But it was "opposite day," so we were cool)
Your hair looks like a wig.
I love you. (this one was out of the blue...kiddo usually refuses to read with me)

I also get called "mom" a lot. And it's hard to describe when a student who has demonstrated nothing but behaviors indicating resentment and frustration suddenly opens up and tells me something - of his own free will - about his life. As silly as some of the compliments seem, the strides that the kids make are even more significant. Heck, most of my kids are learning that they have to say nice things to people, even if they don't want to. But sometimes what they do is really remarkable.

I don't like when people call kids "simple," as in, "man, being a kid was so much simpler." I don't think that's true. Some kids are very complicated, and their struggles are very real. They are also functioning without a fully developed brain or abstract reasoning, which makes decision-making a lot harder.

Although sometimes you have to love brutal honesty.

Reasons to be Happy Today

2011-01-16T22:44:00.000-08:00

♥ chunky cabled knits
♥ sheepy wool
♥ fellow introverted friends
♥ real bread
♥ homemade blankets
♥ picking up old hobbies again
♥ improvised pineapple upside-down cake.

Isn't this such a 60s housewife thing to make? I'm not sure I've ever made one until today. I just took everything I thought about pineapple upside-down cakes and smooshed them together. A flour-cinnamon-salt-baking powder-oil-pineapple juice mixture folded into egg-whites-cream-of-tartar mixture, poured on top of formerly-canned-pineapple in a pan lined with brown sugar. Bake 350 for 30 minutes, yada yada. Yum.

♥ maple crème brûlée that tastes lovely, but comes out looking like egg drop soup.
♥ friends who agree not to look at said cream dessert directly, but eat it anyway.
♥ soft kitty bellies
♥ drawings from friends.
♥ cheesy ghostly television series
♥ work that you don't really mind taking home with you, even if it means you have less time for other things, like baking sprees and silly television.
♥ an immune system that has held a great many kid-germs off for several months. I get the sense that it is now straining to keep up with the nastiness that's being coughed around school, but I'm still proud of it. Good job, immune system. Good job...have some orange juice to celebrate.
♥ flannel sheets
♥ plenty of blog reading to catch up on :)

If I may offer a pitiful excuse, I'd like to defend my absence by stating that staring at a backlit computer screen for any longer than I have to (i.e. for work) has been resulting in a feeling akin to a stabbing of my eyeballs coupled with a strangling feeling isolated to the back of my neck. Like being strangled by a guy behind me with only one small hand. Ugh. I'm hoping with some rest, orange juice and even a bit of yoga, I'll be ready to go again soon. I'd like very much to continue my post-a-day habit, if I can keep up those darn mental energies. If it's any consolation, I've passed on my resolution of noting a daily happy to a friend of mine. I don't think she's started a blog yet, but I'll work on her.

Cheers friends!
Daisy

Meet Ginger, the one and only.

2011-01-13T22:29:00.000-08:00

Behold! The cookie that tastes as good after baking as before!

Some days it's exhausting to dig through all the useless information that the internet holds to find those real gold nuggets. Today, on an utter whim, I struck gold.

In my marathon-cookie-baking days (something like a batch a day....I have a big family) I had one recipe from some cookbook somewhere that was called a gingersnap, but was more of a ginger-chewy-with-crackly-outside. I hate the ginger cookies with the texture of roof shingles just as much as I hate the cakey ones. It's simple. It's fast (especially if you don't chill the dough) and The best part? real, fresh ginger, grated from a nub of root. None of the flavor is lost in the baking process. None. And the real butter doesn't hurt, either.

This glorious dough can be found on allrecipes.com. Plus, ginger is a vegetable, right?

Doing Chatting

2011-01-12T22:36:00.000-08:00

I'm really not very great at small talk. It feels like a waste of time. And even though I know that when someone asks you how you're doing, you're supposed to say "good" or some variation thereof, there are times when that doesn't seem like an accurate answer and thus, must be lying. I hate lying.

So when I'm late to class and I know my professor's docking points for it, even though it's because I needed to get my (carefully organized) materials but then I couldn't find a place to park in a biking city with no sympathy for people who come in from where there's no public transportation, and the whole class stared at me as I accidentally banged the door, tripped into my uncomfortable seat with the awkward attached "desk" and promptly dropped my binder on the floor, spilling all my carefully organized contents...I wasn't much in a mood to exchange meaningless small talk with my classmates.

As I tried to laugh it all off (HA HA HA ISN'T LIFE SO SILLY OMG LOL) my fellow realistic student, who happens to have a few more valuable years to his advantage, said something much more comforting than standard smalltalk nonsense. "It'll get better."

I don't know why this made me feel better. Probably because he's been there and knows. And apparently a person's 20s are not the crazy party everyone told us it would be, but something legitimately challenging. Or maybe I'm a spoiled and entitled member of the new adult generation. Who knows.

I just wanted to extend an earnest "thank you" to every person who says what they mean, and means what they say. Because when it matters, it really matters.
Cheers!
Daisy

What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?

2011-01-10T21:10:00.000-08:00

He didn't fail. He's just covered in snowballs.

Meet Wyatt, my parents' dog.

He lives every moment of his life with that philosophy.

Sometimes I envy him for his immovable optimism and energy.

Sometimes it's exhausting.

And sometimes you step in hairy snowballs shedded from a dog's belly and you don't know whether to scream in surprise, anger, or laughter.

Never Gonna Work Again

2011-01-09T20:54:00.000-08:00

This is by far the greatest thing I've encountered on the internet lately. Did you know you can pretty much watch old Simpsons episodes around the clock?

A Gentleman Never Asks; A Lady Never Tells

2011-01-08T22:21:00.000-08:00

A question: does there still exist a code of honor? Remember when being called "liar" was an insult, because it belittled a person's integrity? I'm not saying that we should return to the days of helping the weak corseted women from their carriages so they don't faint, nor should a man fight a dragon to win a princess - only that people should take pride in a reputation based on honesty, integrity, and a clear system of values. To be frank, I probably wouldn't care if people chose terrible values, so long as they stuck with them. (So maybe it's a commitment thing?) Instead, I see people brag about all the things they got away with.

My happy today: finding genuinely good people, when you do. Blunt honesty, even when it hurts. Integrity, even in a direction I wouldn't choose. The ability to respect people, even if one doesn't agree with them.

Cheers! *curtseys*
Daisy

Granny Stitched in Time

2011-01-07T21:59:00.000-08:00

Clearly I have a thing about blankets, but I also have a thing about cheesy or simple homemade crocheted blankets too. Even mismatched, uneven and (gasp) acrylic blankets. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because commercial blankets don't usually come as big as a house (that's how I prefer my homemade ones). Maybe it's because the color combinations and stitch patterns reflect so much of the maker's personality. Maybe because they are just so casual - what with the homemadeness and washability of it - that makes it easy to curl up in without worrying that I will somehow ruin it. In any case, I think there is a great deal of warmth that comes from a funny granny creation...both literally and figuratively.

I am snuggled under four blankets, three of which are made by somebody's hands. I think I am secretly hoping to create a nest-like structure in which to hibernate until the sun comes back. It's easier to try on weekends.

Cheers!

Daisy

Sheepy Happy

2011-01-06T22:30:00.000-08:00

Have you ever rolled a ball of Cascade Ecological Wool?

Holy Mother of Purl, it's bigger than my head.

Squishy...

I cast on for Aidez tonight!

Oh, and one thing about current wonderful job: I get to use crayons much more often than in my past lives. Tried it recently? It's like quick, colorful therapy...

Resolution

2011-01-05T20:43:00.000-08:00

I have a problem, as do most crafters (I suspect), where I like to make things that are not useful. Blankets that are pretty and circular, but don't cover your toes. Cute draft-stoppers that don't actually stop a draft. Sweaters that are bright and colorful and may even fit - but they're not really my "style." (Like I even have one of those in mind when I get dressed in the morning. pssht.)

In any case, I think I may have found a singular resolution - at least temporarily.

Cirilia Rose's pattern Aidez from Berroco

I want to knit this sweater now. Now. NOW. This is the sweater for which Sophie quite audaciously purchased a buttload of yarn (it's not even that much - but it was without my permission, so I'm teaching her a lesson about using my credit card). So, naturally, I have to knit myself a sweater - particularly now that the holidays are over, and I'm allowed to knit for myself.

Fortunately, it is both a sweater that I would wear just about every day of my life (at least in my head, where it's perfect and hasn't yet caused me emotional damage) and would be a fun and relatively quick knit - on size 10.5 US. Is it too good to be true? Can one sweater combine all of my irrational desires with practicality?

Hmmm....

The Good Old Bedside Table

2011-01-04T22:38:00.000-08:00

I'm happy to be back at work (how many times do you hear people say that...?) but I admit that I seem to be making much less progress in my stack of books than normal. Here are the books that I was excited to read in my (heh) free time, but have only made a pathetic amount of progress. Can you judge a book by its first chapter? Perhaps....

No Idle Hands by Anne L. McDonald. This is actually a re-read for me. Excellent. This book is the reason I knit socks, and provides a lot of justification for knitting's relative coolness.

Thinking in Pictures by Temple Grandin. Ms. Grandin is a woman with autism who used her extraordinary visual thinking capacity and love of animals to redesign more humane systems for slaughtering cattle and sheep. I have to admit that reading her writing is a bit draining because she does think so differently - for many people with autism, learning to communicate verbally is like learning a second language - and because she is rather egocentric - again, characteristic of autism. But reading it is having access to her brain, which is fascinating.

The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton. Rather like Pride and Prejudice, but 50 years later and in New York City. In this novel, Propriety is a character in itself. Not literally, but pervasively. Newman Archer is a young man who suddenly realizes that his scripted lifestyle is not necessarily mandatory.

Word Freak by Stefan Fatsis. I'm several chapters in, and I still can't decide if I like this book or not. It's a journalist who follows competitive scrabble players to understand their culture - and it certainly is a culture of its own. There is something sacrilegious about divorcing the words from the definitions in order to score, but it's also fascinating to read about people who read the dictionary for fun. Curious.

How about you? Any books that you are only a chapter or two into?
Cheers!
Daisy

The Neglected Holiday Knits

2011-01-03T21:53:00.000-08:00

I wasn't going to blog today. Because I can do that now, you know. Skip a day, I mean. In fact, I could totally quit anytime I want to. I just don't want to. Besides, all my friends do it and, you know, it calms me down...

has anyone ever held a blogging intervention?

ahem. There are some knits that I utterly forgot to take pictures of, and only partially because I finished them on the plane. Fortunately, I am not the only one with a camera and a distinct lack of dignity in the family, so MegaSis was able to take some photos for me.

For momma - basic socks with a 2x2 rib with 2-stitch cables that go down the cuff, and down the instep of the sock. In Knit One Crochet Too Crock-o-Dye in Grape. About a bazillion stitches on size 0 US dpns. And by a bazillion, I mean 88. I think.

Next up: an experiment that went curiously.....well.....but I did not knit them. Sorry. Can't stand those 13 US needles. ugh.

Just like the felted slippers of French Press fame, but not knitted. They are cut from recycled felted sweaters and sewn together. The soles are double-thick, with a contrasting color for the inside sole.

Although the knitted slippers were quick, these are actually quicker, and they use up wool that would otherwise be neglected in a thrift store somewhere. I'm not entirely happy with everything about the shoe itself, but I'm hoping to work that out and eventually share with you, my lovelies, if you are interested.

Mega thanks to MegaSis for the photos - I am particularly fond of the last one. And mega thanks to Cutsie for modeling. Or QTZ, now that she's all growed-up. There's another pair of actual-knitted socks for Snuffy, but she's more difficult to track down, and her feet don't stay still for long.

Because I can

2011-01-02T20:23:00.000-08:00

Ha ha, very funny- Daisy doesn't crochet. Psshhht.

I hate wasting anything, but it kills me a little - not really anywhere important like my heart, but more like my little toe kinda dies - when I think about how many useless tshirts there are in the world. For sports teams, for sports fans, for clubs or reunions or souvenirs, fashion, comfort, or lack of anything better. The thrift stores can't seem to get rid of any of them. They just collect and reproduce like mushrooms, despite that most people prefer a fashion cut other than "box."

In any case, I had some wild idea about cutting tshirts in a spiral from the bottom up to make a thickish cotton yarn, which could be knitted or crocheted into...something. Because I have a wild imagination that usually can't be trusted for real-life things like logistical details of various projects, I set out to try it for myself.

Same picture, different effect.
Because I can, obviously.

I can't decide if I like it or not.

I set out to make something in the shape of a bathmat. It would probably serve that purpose, especially if I put some kind of sticky liner on the bottom to keep it from slipping. It's not as squishy as I was hoping. It also gets little tiny bits of cotton everywhere. Does that mean it will eventually disintegrate entirely?

I dunno, I dunno.

Ever tried anything like this?

At least I now have a very clear idea of what happens when you try to crochet with tshirts, so that my stupid la-la brain can't trick me again.

The Resolution Fairy

2011-01-01T14:04:00.000-08:00

New Years and I....we have a long friendly history. For some reason, it works with my brain, and stuff gets done. One year I resolved to eat vegetarian (it lasted two and a half years, actually). One year I resolved to do a blog post every day (I don't remember when that was...) And of course, I have the more nontangible resolutions - I wanted to take a bigger step this year towards balance and peace, and head towards real adulthood. I successfully left my minimum-wage job for a salaried position doing what I love. I am a semester shy of my masters degree. I have put structures into my day to keep me happy, and keep my life in perspective.

This year - this year I have no major requests of the universe: Please be kind to me as I fumble my way through being a "grownup"; Please don't let me stop learning and looking for ways to be better, happier, wiser. This way, maybe the universe will have more magic to bestow upon those who need it. And I know plenty of people who need some magic.

Although it wouldn't kill me to exercise more.

Cheers!
Daisy

2010

2010-12-31T15:41:00.000-08:00

Life in motion

Look back on time with kindly eyes

He doubtless did his best;

How softly sinks his trembling sun

In human nature's west!

Emily Dickinson

Happy new year to you and your lovies. I hope 2010 brought you beauty, peace, and wisdom, if not all the good fortunes for which you'd hoped. I had a very adventurous year; this concludes my resolution to post every day in 2010. As far as I can remember, I only missed midnight (Pacific time) twice, which resulted in my punishment of a monster hat, and a poem about camping. There were many days that I had no idea what I would write until I started, but I wrote anyway. I'm not in love with all 365 posts, but I respect them.

I am utterly enamored with my dear friends here in blogland, and so grateful for your feedback, conversation, and encouragement. Heck, my day wouldn't be complete without some insight or witticism from darling Roxie! I have encountered such a beautiful community of intelligent and creative people online. I want to bake every one of you a batch of giant cookies. The kind with snickers bars inside. Mmmm.

I expect that I will continue to post fairly regularly, now that I am most assuredly in the habit. I can't wait to see what this coming year will bring us - and if I could give you any kind of gift, I wish I could inspire you to greet 2011 with courage and a sense of adventure. The SK and I (and Sophie too) wish everybody all the peace, beauty and wisdom in the world.

Cheers, my friends. And happy new year!
*Daisy

The Dark Side of Fiber Arts

2010-12-31T08:23:00.000-08:00

I think there's a dark side to all of us. I have very mild-mannered friends who will suddenly find themselves dancing on tables. My alter-ego, who calls herself Violet, is not necessarily quite so outrageous, but is not quite as wholesome as the Daisy you know. She likes to wear a hoop in her nose and dye her hair purple. She clomps about in heeled boots and runs in them too - mostly when her mouth gets running first. She likes to shock people by saying things very bluntly. I'm pretty sure she's the one responsible for this.

There is a reckless, even macabre side to fiber arts as well, which is captured nicely in wool "sculptures" from Under the Licorice Tree.

I wish I'd made this. Lord, how I wish I'd had the guts to make this.
From the lovely Licorice Tree.

You have to try it, let it sink in as you watch a ball of wool become something recognizable - the more you stab it, the cuter it gets. Or the creepier it gets, if you are Madame Licorice Tree.

I find this rather unsettling, frankly. I am loving the shaping-stabbing-poking-sculpting process, but those needles....those sharp, sharp needles....

Stabbity stab stab.

I'm rather pleased with the way the apple turned out. Perhaps it was Violet who took the bite out of it before I was done?

SHUTUPANDGETMEMORETEQUILA.

My alter-ego calls. Cheers!

Daisy/VIOLET

Haiku with friends

2010-12-30T18:57:00.000-08:00

Yum! Blueberry beer!
Little fruits rest at bottom
Only in Boston

Things I Learned From Knitting this Simple Hat

2010-12-29T15:44:00.000-08:00

Gauge is indeed more likely to lie under pressure. You can do a gauge swatch when all is well in the world, and later apply those numbers - the right ones - to your knitting and suddenly the hat won't be having any of it.
It is nearly impossible to find a time to knit when the SK isn't around. Especially when the knitting is for him.
I can knit right in front of the SK and he won't notice. Even when my knitting is his favorite color and in the shape of the thing he had asked for.
In a pinch, a blanket over vertical bent legs makes a nifty wall without looking too suspicious. It helped that said blanket was also keeping me warm.
I can knit a hat in a day.
The SK trusts me so much that if I tell him I didn't get him anything for Christmas, he'll believe me. Even while I'm knitting the hat-shaped thing in his favorite color. Poor guy.
This is a darn good hat. (Based on this pattern)
Everybody else will want one too. After all - it doesn't take that long to make, does it?

Cheers!

Daisy

Why There's No Such Thing as a Simpler Time

2010-12-28T19:53:00.000-08:00

A part of me laughs in my head a little bit when people suggest that living 50, 100, or 150 years ago would be more pleasant than today. I don't disagree entirely - it's nice to think about living in a little cottage and knitting my own socks, rather the way it's nice to think about quitting my day job and becoming a traveling gypsy. At some point though, you realize that you might miss sleeping in a similar location every night...and hopefully a location that isn't under a tree somewhere.

The following is my list of bubble-bursters for why I wouldn't survive in a "simpler time"

Cold toes. Think about it. No automatic heat. Not even a switch for the heat. You have to get out of bed, brave the cold floors, and try not to catch pneumonia before the fire builds up enough to make the air tolerable.
Making your own clothes! = no picnic. I love making my own sweaters and scarves, but only because it's an option - not a requirement. Methinks it would get old quickly if I had to sew my own wardrobe and staple my own stilettos.
Knitting socks in the same colorway (i.e. sheep-colored) every single time. I think I might die of neutrality.
The woman-times. That is all.
Traveling meant that there was a good chance you'd never see your family again. Moving to the next state over may as well have been moving to a different country.
No cars. As much as I would like to cut down on car pollution, horse manure would be much worse. And the carts would be rock-rock-rocking...and not in a good way. barf.
Chocolate. Much harder to get in cold states back then.

Anything you would miss terribly? Not that I would mind giving it a try, as in the 1900 house series, but simpler, it was not.

I'm very sorry to burst any bubbles - but perhaps instead, we'll be able to enjoy our anachronism in greater comfort and appreciation. Yes?

Cheers!
Daisy

I plan to half-knit quite a bit this winter.

2010-12-28T07:28:00.001-08:00

From Natalie Dee