she's just saying...

In which I knit. And garden. Though not at the same time.

This blog is supposed to occasionally focus on knitting. However, when summer finally arrives in Central Oregon, my knitting switch goes off and the gardening switch is triggered.

We only get about four months of gardening in here before it starts to freeze at night, so Central Oregonians go into a bit of a frenzy trying to pack it all in between May and September. It's a real challenge to garden in the high desert. The weather is dry, scorching and freezing, so it takes a pretty hardy plant to thrive. The temperature last month ranged from 31 degrees to 82 degrees, though not in that order, so you can see the issues we face.

But I digress. Knitting. I'm working on the tweedy cabled cardigan that is going along pretty quickly. I don't have a lot of motivation to finish it until fall, but I don't want to lose the rhythm of the pattern, so I work on it sporadically.

I'm also oddly stuck in a never-ending loop of coffee cozies and felted mice.
the latest cozies

Each can be completed in the space of a movie so they're pretty gratifying. This occasionally happens to knitters, getting stuck on repeat on a certain pattern. I'll snap out of it eventually. Meantime, I'm producing a lot of little convenient gifts. I seem to have a problem taking the final step of delivering them, but that's just logistics, right?

Summer camp crazies, one more time

Once again, I find myself reviewing a year-old post and realizing that nothing has changed in the intervening time. This is about registering Henry for summer camps.

As a working single parent, I have to book him for twelve weeks of activities this summer. At an average of $160 a week, it adds up quickly. To avoid the hell of standing in line this year, you can register on-line for a mere 6% more, which also adds up.

Here's last year's post on the subject, comin' round again:

Hell no, I won't go.

"I can't face getting up at 4 am Sat. to stand in line to sign Henry up for the Bend Parks & Rec summer programs. The doors open at 7, so to get your choices, you truly have to line up at 5. 5 AM outside, that is. It's cold and dark and miserable. We huddle in chairs and blankets, wearing our ski gear, waiting it out. Many jokes about how a few years ago, it would have been for concert tix.

Just as bad is the upcoming signup for Kids Inc, the before/after-school care BPR runs in the local schools. Great program, limited space. Last year I got in line at 5, and people were camped out from the night before. It was miserable, boring, cold and damp under the trees at Hollinshead Barn. I love our Parks & Rec for the incredible job they do with programs, parks and trails. But there's GOT to be another solution for this registration fiasco. What it does is reward the most determined, obsessive, clued-in parents who are able to stand in line for hours those mornings. Those who aren't in the know, are new to town or don't have the resources to get there early are screwed for summer camps or childcare for the school year."

repeat, rerun, recycle

I'm realizing that many of the posts I wrote last year can just be re-pasted as new entries.

Does that mean I'm in rhythm with the cycle of the seasons in my life, or that my life is really boring?

Whatever, it makes for easy blogging for lazy bloggers. And since most of you didn't read this blog back then, it's all new to you!

From last April:

Ah, Spring in Central Oregon!

Every C.O. blog is probably posting a similar thought today.

Answer: Hot Cross Buns

See Question two posts down.

Sheesh. I gave you a big visual hint, I thought. Do I have to do everything for you?

A timely joke

Happy Easter! It's a sweet holiday, even for us non-Christians (or maybe especially for us, because there's no torture connected with it.)

Today gives me a chance to bring out one of the three jokes I'm able to remember. The other two have to do with drinking strings and an Irishman. But this one's my favorite.

What do you get when you pour boiling water down a rabbit hole?

Answer below:

A perfectly pleasant weekend

Saturday morning started with a long walk in the sagebrush with Mary and the dogs - an activity we've enjoyed for 12 years, on and off. Brisk and invigorating (Mary has long legs). I then brushed a pound of hair off the dog which always makes him all giddy and silly for some reason.

Mary (my occasional-housemate) has bought her own place so moved her stuff out of my spare bedroom. We'll really miss her, but I did gain back a room. I spent the rest of the day reclaiming it, moving in the Wii, books, knitting stuff, ironing board, etc. That was absurdly rewarding, and got me to organize bookcases, magazines, projects and knitting stash. As a result, my bedroom is now much less cluttered and more relaxing. I then finished every knitting project on the needles - a first in a long time. Mellow evening at home with a movie, Henry and his sleep-over friend, and a solitary sojourn in the hot tub.

Sunday I baked for breakfast, then had fun with the wet/dry vac for an hour or so. I discovered that it blew as well as sucked, so I blew all the leaves and needles from the winter off the deck, terrace and porch. Nice! Next I sucked out the old nasty pond water from the waterfall, found the leak in my liner and patched it. I filled the pool, set up and started the pump and was rewarded for all my hard work last year with the lovely sound of water down through the rock, between a trickle and a splash.  (Not a trash really, how about a splickle?)

It was (unseasonably) warm and sunny, so I sat on the terrace, enjoying the waterfall, knitting lace and drinking Pinot Gris while 10-yr-old boys played baseball in the front yard.

And you know what? I felt incredibly happy, and at peace.

And to top it all off, baseball season started.

spring is thinking about it

Snowing lightly, but the first bulbs are bravely making their appearance. Yes, it's cold up here in the far north.

April 1 breakfast

April 1 breakfast, originally uploaded by Meltrier.

I got Henry pretty good with this one.

I told him we were starting a new all-vegetable diet: no sugar, no dairy, no butter, which cuts out about 50% of his food intake.

His face fell as he started to work through it, though he did pick up a carrot and start chewing.

I know he's working on something for me for this evening. Luckily he's not very good at keeping a straight face.

He took a zucchini in his backpack for an April Fool's snack in class.

I'll bet you think this post is about you

In the face of my big sister's disapproval, I must admit that Neighbor X and I slid back into seeing each other again for the twentieth time a few weeks ago. Just dinners, wine and closeness, all very nice. I enjoyed being courted and felt content to not define it, just enjoy my best friend.

Then last Monday after my knitting retreat he invited himself up for dinner and told me he was moving to Portland. (In an odd coincidence, he told me the exact same thing exactly a year ago after I returned from my knitting weekend then. Either Valentine's Day, my knitting or February in general seems to trigger this reaction. Hmm.) He then wanted to talk about how we were going to move forward in the six weeks or so before he left.

It was clear to me that "we" weren't going anywhere, so what would be the point of continuing to see him other than the thrill of masochistic pain, which contrary to the evidence I'm not actually into. So, no contact seemed appropriate.

We've had the ritual last phone call and last email, the porch-to-porch exchange of Tupperware, and the careful avoidance of the mailbox at key times. We've done this so often that it's not even ludicrous anymore, it's just routine. (Getting back together is never routine, though, which is why we kept doing it.) Now I'm waiting for him to leave, and looking forward to spring and a return to the garden.

Speaking of the garden, the trees and plants have once again been fooled by our February thaw into thinking that spring is near. They're budding and sending up shoots, lulled into life by the recent warmth and soft rain. They don't seem to recognize the false spring or know that hard winter will return again with snow and ice in March.

I'm irritated and saddened by their naivete, as inevitably they'll get frost-burned and come up all stunted in April. You'd think by now they'd learn to wait for the real thing. I don't get it.

Hoarfrost

Hoarfrost (n): A deposit of interlocking ice crystals (hoar crystals) formed by direct sublimation on objects, usually those of small diameter freely exposed to the air, such as tree branches, plant stems and leaf edges, wires, poles, etc., which surface is sufficiently cooled, mostly by nocturnal radiation, to cause the direct sublimation of the water vapor contained in the ambient air.

Everybody good?

Wow, it's been very busy around here. Doing nothing can be a lot of work. We had a lovely Christmas day and after-Christmas day, and the weekend-after-Christmas is nice too. The weather has turned warm, slightly melting the eight inches of snow we got. At least it hasn't rained. Rain on Snow is my least favorite weather condition, bar none. It's so depressing. Anyway, more fluffy white stuff in our near future...

So first of all, here are the results of all that raw fish and fowl I displayed a few days ago. Grill roasted and smoked turkey, pate and gravlax. Recipes provided upon request.

This should keep us for a few days. On top of the mussels and oysters. And cookies. And wine. I'm still full.

Which leads me to the Wii Fit! Kind of fun, easy to use and interactive enough to keep my interest for a bit, I hope. I learned a trick to it for all you who have just received one: the first "body analysis" you have to count as practice and do again. My first one said my Wii Fit age was 65 (rude) and the second time was 35 (very perceptive).

It does seem to emphasize balance, probably because the platform excels at measuring weight shifts. I got the same snotty comments Kathi D got at the beginning: "Oh, you seem to have some problems with your balance. Do you trip frequently when you walk?" asked by a concerned and caring and quite annoying trainer. It's ok though - irritation is a great motivator. "I'll show you how good my balance is!"

More to come on that front. Oh, and Henry likes it too.

I can now reveal my Christmas knitting, almost. OK, one item is not done and another is awaiting a dog size, but the rest of it. I'll do that tomorrow.

Right now, it's back to doing nothing - a sluggard's work is never done.

CC #1: Food

Cooking is not always pretty. Behold:

From the upper right, that is a turkey brining, chicken livers marinating in brandy, and salmon curing.

But soon, all this raw meat will be transformed into grill-roasted turkey, chicken pate, and gravlax (salt/sugar cured salmon).

Mark and I have some menu standards we like at Christmas. Christmas Eve is always oyster stew and Caesar salad. Christmas dinner is roast turkey (with beef for the red-meat-eaters) with all the sides including yorkshire pudding; and throughout the week, generous servings of gravlax, pate, croissants with triple-creme cheese, cookies and champagne. It's what my sister calls the annual Holiday Food Plan -- Eat What You Want When You Want.

While I'm cooking today, this is the view from my kitchen window:

The snow is snowing, snow on snow. We're ready to be snowbound and enjoy our cozy little family unit.

Have a warm and bright Christmas eve, relax, don't sweat the preparation, and enjoy your friends and family. Read "The Night Before Christmas" to the kids or pets, savor those sugar plums dancing and reindeer prancing, put out the milk and cookies, and stay up wrapping til 1 am. Sleep tight and have a wonderful Christmas morning,

Love to all,

Melissa

 

CC #2: Cookies

I'm counting yesterday's from-the-road posts as Christmas Countdown #3: traveling. So, onto #2: COOKIES. Another element of what Christmas is all about to the Hochschild family.

Sister #1 tends to outdo herself with cookie baking every year. I think she does six types, five of which are classics and one new one each year. Or something like that. 

Since it's just Mark, Henry, me and assorted passers-by this year, I'm staying with four varieties, plus add-ins from neighbors.

Rum balls made with cocoa and vanilla wafers are a must. Also Russian teacakes, doubled.

Gingerbread men (which we've been known to decorate the day after Christmas), brownie bites frosted with peppermint icing, and oh, right, I made mixed nut brittle (NO peanuts) already which counts. Really, that's all.

Then, starting Christmas Eve, we prepare the Cookie Plate, which is refreshed all week.

Stop by to have some or I'll be forced to eat them into January like last year.

Such a problem.

Last year's plate

CC #4: Merry Christmas from the cats

 

From Bob

 

and Muffin

CC #5: Christmas, The Soundtrack

To follow up on Kathi D's post (you know my motto: Steal from the Best), Christmas is all about the music. For hip 'n' cool folk like Kathi and me, this also includes the smirky ironic variety. She cites "Merry Christmas from the Family" by the great Robert Earl Keen, to which I added “Even Santa Gets the Blues” by Marty Stuart, and “Please Daddy Don’t Get Drunk at Christmas" by Kelly Willis and Bruce Robison (a great alt-country couple by the way. Right up there with Buddie and Julie Miller). There are plenty more out there, I'm sure.

I have a not-so-secret Christmas music habit. I'm a sucker for unusual compilations, the Starbucks CDs, new arrangements of classics, unexpected genres. I make a compilation CD of Christmas music each year to give to friends. Last year's ranged from Billie Holiday to El Vez, and included surf rock, the vibes, bluegrass and Louis Armstrong. Since I have all new colleagues this year, I smartly recycled it for 2008. 'Cause it's that good, IIDSSM*. Here's the playlist:

Baby It's Cold Outside: Zoey Deschanel & Leon Redbone (from Elf)

I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm:  Billy Holiday

Frosty:  The Ventures

Trim Your Tree:  Asylum Street Spankers

Merry Christmas Baby:  Charles Brown

Christmas Song:  Mr. Majestic

'Zat You, Santa Claus?:  Louis Armstrong

That Was the Worst Christmas Ever:  Sufjan Stevens

Jingle Bells:  Duke Ellington

Mele Kalikimaka:  Chris Isaak

Feliz Navidad:  El Vez

I'd Like You for Christmas:  Julie London

All I Want for Christmas:  John Waite

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home):  Death Cab for Cutie

Even Santa Gets the Blues:  Marty Stuart

Skating:  Vince Guaraldi Trio

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve:  Nancy Wilson

Auld Lang Syne:  David Grisman

Of course, I couldn't burn this for you. That would be wrong. I'd hate to spend Christmas in jail.

Though it would make a good song.

This doesn't even include the downloads...

[*if I do say so myself, duh!]

CC #6 (belated): Fambly Christmas

 This may be an off-year Christmas for my family. It's the first time in years that Sister #1 and I (and the kids) haven't had Christmas together, and I'm seriously bummed about it. This year was Henry's and my turn to fly back east, but after three trips back there already and a new job, it was not going to happen.

Sister #2 has an interesting relationship with Christmas. She's a converted Jew and they've raised their kids in a Jewish household, but old memories die hard, so she gives and receives presents at Christmastime slash Hanukkah. I'm always careful to wrap theirs in blue and white non-denominational paper. 

Big Bro is not in the Christmas mood this year, for various reasons. He'll be at the parents' house but both he and my mom have said they're not planning to do much for Christmas this year "except for the food." Of course, with my dad still in rehab and my mom coping alone, we don't expect her to have energy left for making merry. We're sending presents anyway.

It will be a quiet Christmas here, but we're looking forward to it. No travel, no guests; except our bestest friend Mark who's flying up from LA to be with us again - we've shared Christmas with him for seven years now. Mark's the fun, bad-boy uncle-figure for Henry, and a funny, supportive partner for me. We plan to play in the snow (Henry), drink a lot (Mark and me) and not do anything we don't want to. We might even (shock of shocks) go out for Christmas dinner. That to me would be the ultimate Christmas treat.

So, what are your plans? Full-on tradition or a more unconventional approach?

CC#7: Snow

snowy commute, originally uploaded by Meltrier.

Unfortunately, it didn't occur to me that doing a Christmas Countdown would entail blogging every day. Aackk, the pressure! But If you're up for reading, I'm up for writing...

Here is a phonecam picture through my windshield during my commute this morning. IMHO, this is a good day to never leave the house. But school was on and so was work, so I forged ahead. In Central Oregon, we sneer at weather like this. Or actually, we cheer at weather like this. This is a snow-crazed town. People's spirits are up and excitement is high right now, especially after the dry Thanksgiving we had.

Luckily, I like snow. I especially like snow at Christmastime. This dump might get kind of old and ratty by a week from now, so I'm hoping for fresh on Christmas. Now that I have a nine-year-old who can shovel, I'm good.

What's your weather like?

CC #8: Nog

Christmas Countdown #8: Eggnog

I love eggnog. I like it homemade, and I like the over-sweet sticky stuff straight out of the carton. I only buy “light” eggnog (there’s an oxymoron) – I can’t handle the sugar and fat shock of the full-strength variety. I'm sort of obsessed with Starbuck's eggnog lattes, and I especially like eggnog with some rum and bourbon laced in. In fact, I’m sipping some right now!

Eggnog reminds me of a Christmas morning long ago when my husband Jay and I were driving our old VW bus from Boston to New Haven for Christmas with my sister and family. The bus (which we bought used and then drove across the country) seized up on the turnpike near Groton.

We had our Siberian husky, Buns, in the back, along with our presents and a pitcher of real homemade eggnog, complete with whipped egg whites, full cream, alcohol and all, that was my big Christmas morning food contribution. We ground to a halt halfway down an exit ramp and waited for the highway patrol. I opened the bus's sliding door and Buns jumped out, knocking over the eggnog and running up and down the highway. The bus reeked of hard liquor and was covered in sticky alcoholic goo. We suddenly weren’t as excited about flagging down the highway patrol.

Jay hiked down to some ratty-looking apartments to call my sister while I tried to catch the dog. I don’t actually remember much of the rest of the visit, other than renting a U-Haul to tow the bus back to Boston. I always regretted losing that eggnog, though, and when I make it I remember Jay and that crazy dog.

CC* #9: The Tree

*Christmas Countdown

 #9 in the 10-Day Countdown: Trimming The Tree

I was bumming that we got our tree so late this year, until I talked to Sister #1 this weekend, who was amazed we had it up "so early." For all the effort that goes into it, and for the wonderful feelings it evokes, I like it up for a month. But I was traveling, etc. so we got the tree last week.

Rather than going out in the woods and cutting one down, we usually drive to the nearest Tom's Trees lot and strap one on. This year, there was a (non-Tom's) tree lot at the bottom of our street and over a little bit. I decided our tree adventure would be walking down there and carrying our chosen tree home ourselves, Henry and me. Which we did, and enjoyed. From leaving the house to having the tree up in its stand was less than a half hour. Efficient and a memory! That's my kind of Christmas experience.

It sits there awhile, beautiful in its purity, til I haul out the boxes and begin the mini-light fight. God, I hate mini-lights. And putting them on the tree, to be truthful. A few years back I unfortunately read how Martha Stewart lights her tree, and have had to follow the master's teachings ever since. This involves running a light wire up EACH BRANCH and wrapping it back down again, then moving to the very next one. There are a million branches on your normal tree lot tree. Tedious, uncomfortable, and absolutely fabulous results. The tree takes on an inner dimension, with lights twinkling throughout the branches, adding depth and magic. Pain in the butt though.

Then the next step, putting on the ornaments. No one wants to help with this, I've learned, so I do it myself, indulging in my most obsessive-compulsive design tendencies. First the breakables, then fill in with a few choice non-breakables, stepping back frequently to assess the placement and balance. Then it's done. I turn on the tree, turn out the lights, drink a winter libation and enjoy the view.

Bob waits for Santa Claws

10 day countdown...going postal

Stealing a great idea from Hack Bend, I'm going to initiate a countdown to Christmas. Why? 'Cause I'm always looking for easy blog content, silly!

So, since I missed the 12 days of Christmas start date, I'm going to do the 10 days til Christmas, starting with:

10. Mail Anxiety

I've got to get packages in the mail immediately or pay the convenience cost of three-day shipping or less. Since each family member lives in a different state, it's a process every year, including finding small boxes and then bigger boxes, scissors and tape; wrapping, labeling and sealing; getting to the mailing store and getting the damned things out.  Weirdly exhausting. I normally wait til the last minute to try to include all the presents in one box, which include our family's tradition of buying a huge sockful of stocking gifts for each person. In the end, I usually turn to amazon.com to fill in the gaps, at its (very-convenient) pricey convenience charge.

So, enough of this blog-crastination. Time for Mr. Zip and me to get busy.