she's just saying...

Henry then and now

Henry and I last visited my sister Susan at her beach house 4 years ago. I took some photos of him then.

I took another one this time in the same spot:

Check back in 4 years when I take one at age 13.

in the Smokies

Made it without incident to Hendersonville. That's in the western Smokies of North Carolina near Asheville. Here we hang out, swim in my parents' pool, cook, eat, and swat mosquitoes. Unfortunately I didn't swat enough yesterday and already have a bunch of bites. More to come.

The Clap-otis

Ha! Faked you out! This is a knitting post. Sorry. You may be excused.

"Clapotis" means lapping in French, as in the lapping of the waves on the shore. Weird and kind of repulsive word, actually. The French pronunciation helps: cla-po-TEE.

Anyway, it's a wildly popular shawl pattern among knitters. Ravelry.com (the Facebook for knitters) counts 6400 versions of it. Really.

Here's my clap in progress, using Noro Silk Garden 264:

Yes, those are dropped stitches on the right. You drop them as you go, kind of.

It's an easy pattern, but very daunting, as there are a million blog posts, forums, discussion threads, and spreadsheets on it. This is the spreadsheet I'm following (with thanks to Soul Knitting):

I'm showing it to impress you. The pattern is actually pretty easy to memorize.

Seriously, don't be intimidated. If I can do it, so can you. Of course, mine isn't done yet ...

big bubble

big bubble, originally uploaded by Meltrier.

You're looking at the primary activity of the day, other than Susan and I sawing off some tree branches and doing a little weeding. We napped, read, played paddleball, ate and made mojitos. That's my idea of a vacation - doing absolutely nothing.

morning beach

morning beach, originally uploaded by Meltrier.

A calm, peaceful morning, chatting with Susan and drinking coffee. If I put the computer on the kitchen counter, I can jump onto an unsecured connection. Borrowing bandwidth... it's OK, I'm a visitor.

beach

I have to post quickly as the wireless connectivity comes and goes and we have no connection ourselves - how archaic! Cellphone doesn't work either. Cut off from the world! Not so bad at the beach...

On the Train

Headed to Connecticut & sister #2. Henry was sad to leave Boston, but the train is a cool adventure. Next: the beach portion of the trip.

East coast edition

Pros/cons about the East Coast:

1. It's very lush                                           

2. Nothing ever dries

3. The humidity makes my nails look great         

4. It makes my hair go bonkers

5. There are tons of Red Sox fans everywhere

6. They're obnoxious and swear in front of my kid

7. The T gets you everywhere

8. It's hot, smelly and crowded

9. There's great ice cream on every corner

10. There's great ice cream on every corner

Fenway follies

Um, tell me what happens.

I was not informed that these were "obstructed view" seats when I bought them for double their face value... something I'll be talking to Stubhub about tomorrow.

It's ok, I'm getting very friendly with the people to my right as I lean into their laps with each pitch.

Fenway is as crazy as ever. Game's going fast. Bought a ton of stuff for Henry already. He's enjoying himself & can see, thankfully.

Here comes Manny!

Back East

We made it here uneventfully, which is the best you can say with air travel. It's so lush here - I forget that when I'm in Bend. It's also so HUMID. And I'm in Boston - not nearly as bad as North Carolina will be. The actual atmosphere feels different: thicker and more palpable. Not to mention that I'm completely stuffed up and my hair has gone wild. That's why I live in Bend: good hair days.

We're staying at my sister's lovely old 3-story home in an upscale section of Brookline. It's right in town but feels very quiet and residential. We're just a few blocks from Comm. Ave., which is full city: falafel joints, the Gap, nail salons, all with the T running through the middle (aboveground subway - an oxymoron!). I went to grad school right near here at BU, so it feels vaguely like home, but unfamiliar as well. Makes me wonder whether I could live in a city again - would it feel normal and energizing, or would I long for my quiet rural/suburban life?

I realize I may have to make that choice, depending on the job situation by the end of the summer. But I don't want to think about that right now -- I just want to knit and visit with my sister, and enjoy being in the city with Henry.

Next post from Fenway!!

Crossing

On the long flight to Boston. H is watching a movie on the portable player, I'm knitting on & off, stuck in the middle seat between a large person and a squirmy Henry. This is one of the times I'm happy I'm small.

Knitting with Zen

Warning: knitting-centric post! Not for the uninitiated...

Juniper Fiberworks is selling all their "novelty" yarns for 50% off. These are the yarns down the center aisle of their store - the ones everyone went crazy over for scarves a few years back.

I wasn't moved by anything (lots of fancy eyelash and mixed blends) but turned the corner and fell in love with Berroco Zen,

a ribbon yarn of nylon and cotton, shiny and matte.

Since it retails for $12 a ball (for only 110 yards), this was the only way I was going to get me some. I got enough for the Montego Bay scarf pattern from Amy Singer that just became available on Ravelry. It's a fishnet-type pattern, very slinky and chic.

I'm dying to cast on, but I have three projects on the needles already. I get kind of anxious with too many projects started. That's definitely some sort of neurosis, because who is keeping track? but I can't deal.

So knitters, do you cast on when you get the urge, or do you hold yourself back and force yourself to finish the WIP's? What does it all mean?

Should money be a motivator?

Henry's wallet

The real problem (or blessing - dunno which) is that H has no interest in money. Is that because he is not materialistic or because he's never had to be concerned about money? He really still can't tell the difference between something costing $1.99, $19.99 or $199.00. He never thinks about getting his allowance unless I remember it, and doesn't ask for things except to rent video games.

The last (minus 3) time H lost his ski jacket I said he had to buy the next one by himself at the Salvation Army. (This is in a line of, oh, 9 lost jackets in the last three years.) It sort of backfired because he found a rockin' Burton snowboard jacket for $15. Of course, that one is long since gone as well. After losing his last jacket, I told him I wouldn't buy him a replacement. So he wears his down coat everywhere, even to camp today. But he likes to wear it. Hmmm. So now I feel H needs a new light jacket, but he doesn't.

Plus, he made $150 by reading a few lines into a microphone. So how can he get that motivated to water the plants for $1? He'll do it because I ask, not for the money.

Retainers!?

missing: top teeth

When Henry got his retainers I was thinking of starting a pool on when the first one would be lost and have to be replaced (for $100 a pop).

Too late! I think we got to 33 hours, during most of which they were not being worn. Back to the orthodontist tomorrow...

Ideas: what can a 9-yr-old do to earn $100? He made serious money doing radio voice-overs, but that went to the new bike. He's too young to mow the lawn, unfortunately. Maybe he could sell his old toys in a yard sale...

convergence???

Are you kidding me? This doesn't even include the laptop upon which I'm typing. Where is this convergence the industry keeps hyping? They still can't make an adequate universal charger.

top 10 tuesday: travel edition

Things we want to do back East:

1. Red Sox game, t-shirts, big pointing #1 fingers, the works
2. Smell the ocean (it smells different there)
3. Be around people of color
4. Buy rag rugs and jam at the Hendersonville Curb Market
5. Drive through the Big Dig tunnel (if the ceiling tiles stay up)
6. Eat New Haven pizza to see if it really is the best
7. Take the T in Boston
8. Eat a clam roll
9. Hang out by the pool with my family, reading mysteries
10. Mix my parents' annual gin and tonic

East-coast trip

Henry and I are headed east on Saturday for a two-week adventure. We first land in Boston to visit my sister Jennifer. We've got tickets to the Red Sox-Diamondbacks game Monday night! (Look for us on ESPN - we're near third base, catching fouls.) We'll do the Freedom Trail and the Swan boats, of course, Faneuil Hall, Children's Museum. Walk around Harvard with my sister the professor, and get a little city action.

Then we take the train to New Haven, CT to visit my sister Susan. This will be Henry's first train ride! We'll hit the beach there, rain or shine.  We'll walk around Yale and buy a sweatshirt, eat New Haven's best pizza, and relax.

Next we fly to North Carolina for the annual family gathering for the 4th. Swimming in the pool and hanging with family is about all that's on the agenda there, plus any big summer blockbuster that's at the 16-plex. Flying back to Bend on July 5.

These are the times memories are built of. Not the wildly exciting trip to Disneyland (though that's on the summer agenda as well), but spending time with family, goofing around doing next to nothing. It's important to me that Henry makes and strengthens that bond with his extended family, especially as it's just the two of us way up here in Oregon.

camp

As a girl growing up in Western Pennsylvania, to me camp meant Camp Redwing, a Girl Scout week-long camp. Camp Redwing was built in 1923 and had big platform canvas tents with 4 cots and roll-up sides. There were caper charts, pit toilets, flag ceremonies, campfire events, song booklets, and something called "camp craft" which included how to chop with a hatchet.

It was pretty tightly regimented with a million rules that everyone bought into and that became part of the lore passed down to the littlest scouts. I still remember the three kinds of campfire: log cabin, teepee and lean-to; and the three classifications of wood: kindling, tinder and fuel. These days when we camp, I annoy my friends with camp craft lessons and campground rules. Once a girl scout, always a girl scout, I guess.

war wound (dog bites dog)

Flash showing off the bandages.

My poor old dog was bitten pretty viciously last night. A large yellow dog clamped her jaws on his neck in a total death grip. Two men weren't able to pull her off. Finally my friend pounded on her muzzle (so hard he actually bruised his hand) and she eventually opened up, trotted off and sat there wagging her tail.

Flash was howling oww oww oww!in a panic, and I distinguished myself by standing there screaming the whole time. We were all hopped up on adrenaline at the moment, but by the time we got home, Flash  crashed into doggy shock. I started searching for all the puncture wounds, shaving his ruff and cleaning him up, and he just lay there in a trance. That was more freaky than anything, really.

He was a very sad puppy this morning. Took him to the vet and got him all bandaged and medicated. After the pain pill kicked in, he was trying to get people to throw the frisbee and generally acting pretty silly. Of course, tonight not so much.

(One funny note: when the vet gave us the pain meds, he said: "This is very safe stuff. No potential for abuse." What, are there junkie dogs out there scoring pills by the fire hydrant? Glad to know Flash isn't headed down that slippery slope - a strung-out dog pawning his squeaky toys for drug money.)

I thought my dog was grumpy with other dogs, but this dog was completely psychotic.  Her owner said, "she's passive-aggressive." I think she's a true danger to the neighborhood. (And yes, they're picking up the vet bill.)

I'm very grateful to Spence, who immediately took charge: beating apart the locked jaws, talking to the neighbors, finding a vet, driving us there. He's my hero, and Flash's alpha dog.

knit in public today

If you can't join us at the Riverfront Plaza, knit wherever you are!

Quick post as my dog Flash got badly bitten by another dog and we're taking him to the vet. Always exciting around here...