Body and Soul

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Today was good for both.

First, the body. As in, the body of my sweater. What you see here is complete right up to the armholes. Woohoo!

This means that this piece gets put aside now for a little bit while I do the sleeves, bringing them up to the same point, at which time, everything gets joined together.

That’s when I’ll be starting the neckline, too. I’ve mentioned that I adjusted the pattern to make the neckline on mine higher than the original. Not too high–I like that scoop neck–but still, an inch or two higher is not a bad thing, right? It makes the next row a “big” one . . . the start of the neckline, the joining of the sleeves . . . lots of stuff going on . . . You know, right after I knit the sleeves.

As to the soul…

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The historic farm up the road had a festival today. The weather couldn’t have been nicer, so Mom, Chappy, and I walked up there to see what was going on. Which, once we made it past all the cars parked on our street, was quite a bit. A tent with festival foods like hot dogs, funnel cake, corn on the cob, to begin with. (Chappy particularly liked that.) Pony rides. (Chappy wasn’t interested.) A little petting zoo with ponies, a small cow, and a sheep. (Chappy was intrigued to see for himself where wool comes from.) Tractor rides. (Chappy kept his distance.) Face painting. (Chappy really kept his distance.)

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There were some vintage cars out for a day in the sun. There were even “celebrity” vintage cars . . . as in the “General Lee” from Dukes of Hazzard, along with Sherriff Roscoe P. Coltrane’s police car. (Ooh, be still my heart.) They were being guarded by a police officer on horseback. (Chappy gave the horse a wide berth, too.) Hay rides. A corn maze . . . All in all, it was quite a day for our little farm.

And yes, this is the same farm I showed pictures of earlier this month. Or at least, it used to be. The whole parcel of land used to belong to the Knuth family, and before that, the Ayres family, going back generations. The end of the property, where all the buildings are, is registered as a national historic place. Parts of the rest of the property, though, now belong to the town. Some of it has been converted to soccer fields, and some of it is actually farmed by the people who grow our favorite summer corn. Different entities, same “farm.” And all within handy walking distance.

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The farm’s foundation recently restored the main house, and this was the first time I’d gotten a good look at it. What a difference from the way it used to look! And the size of the property around the house was impressive, too. A huge chicken coop (now filled with green, growing, leafy things), a smoke house, a barn, a tenant’s house, a privy . . . um, well, this IS a historical landmark, after all . . .

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They had posters of pictures of the town from years ago. Including an aerial view of the center of town in 1942. (Funny, you can’t see the Starbucks . . . )

Oh, and I got some wonderful pictures of something else which I’m going to save for Eye Candy Friday. Such awesome pictures, if I do say so myself. The only thing I’ll say? Her name is Betsy.

Bobbin(g)

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…For apples, of course.

Finally, it’s that time of year when apples are at their best. I LOVE good, crisp, fresh apples. Adore them. To the extent that I eat as many as I possibly can from late September until the very beginning of November.

Although, I have to tell you, I’m picky. I really don’t like my apples to come from a grocery store–they should be fresh from an apple farm if at all possible. It should probably go without saying that I also won’t eat apples out of season. Sure, you can buy them year-round in the grocery store, but my feeling has always been . . . why? I’ll use out-of-season apples to bake with, but never to eat.

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And then, of course, there’s the type of apple. My top two criteria (other than freshness and source as listed above)? Crispness and sweetness. I don’t necessarily need really sweet apples, but I do not like the very tart ones like Granny Smiths. An apple that’s sweet-tart is my favorite, but it’s also got to have crunch. Crisp texture is an absolute must. Where’s the fun in biting into an apple that’s immediately mush on your tongue?

My absolute favorite is the Macoun. This is most popular in the northeast USA, but has been spreading across the country. I discovered these at an apple farm in Massachusetts when I was in college. I’d been visiting my best friend and we took a day trip to an orchard and brought home a bushel of these, along with fresh cider and baked goods. I loved them from the start, and was crushed that I couldn’t find anywhere nearby to get them . . . not for another couple of years.

My other favorite is still relatively new (at least here in New Jersey). The Honeycrisp. It’s a sweet apple, but one with the crispest texture I’ve ever found. A joy to munch on.

I wouldn’t want you to think that the few apples you see in that bowl are all we got. Oh, no. I’ve got a refrigerator drawer practically full of them. Macouns, Honeycrisps, and an assortment of others (Gravenstein, Ginger Gold, Greenings, Jonagold) for baking.

Which is something I’ve already started.

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Julie posted a recipe for apple cake the other day which sounded SO much like the recipe I got from my best friend’s grandmother back when we were in high school, I just had to try it. Here’s a picture of it baked and cooling–I’ve so far resisted cutting into it, waiting until it’s entirely cool. As I say, the recipe is very similar–Julie’s batter is a little more “liquid” which makes spreading the batter into the pan easier–and either way, I can just tell that this is going to taste good. Guess what I’m having for breakfast tomorrow!

Although–the cool apple cake thing. I like hot apple crisps (with vanilla ice cream, mmmmm), but things like pies and cakes I usually like completely cold if not outright refrigerated. (Oh, and fruit must be at room temperature–if it’s cold you miss half the flavors. Though this is just my personal opinion.) When I was in England for a semester in college, though, one of the desserts I kept seeing pop up was apple cake with hot vanilla sauce poured over the top. It was absolutely delicious, and something completely unheard of here. I’ve been looking for a good vanilla sauce recipe ever since. I’ve found plenty of cold ones, but never one meant to be served warm. Has anybody else heard of such a thing? Did I just imagine it? (Because, if I did, I’m brilliant, because that’s a taste sensation that really SHOULD exist, if it doesn’t already.)

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And, here’s a treat. I made Chappy so happy today, he actually posed and looked AT the camera. It was a beautiful day here (great for, say, spinning in Central Park), so we took Chappy for a nice, long walk in our favorite park. As in, he likes the park so much, it’s worth the 20 minute drive to get there. There were LOTS of people there, too, since the park was being used for a fundraiser for the “Fighting Children’s Cancer Foundation.” (It’s amazing how fast you catch on to this kind of thing when every second person you see in the park is wearing matching red shirts.)

After the park, we went to buy apples (which should be pretty obvious by now). There were lots of people there, too, what with the apple-picking and hay rides and all that. This time of year, on the weekends, there’s always a policeman in the road directing traffic in and out of their parking lot. It’s a popular place. (Good doughnuts and fresh pies, too, as well as my favorite cider anywhere.) All in all, Chappy’s had a great day. So have I. I’ve spent the afternoon baking or curled up in my favorite chair reading. (There might even have been a little nap in there, too, but, shhh, don’t tell anyone.) I mean, really, isn’t that the face of a happy dog?

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Even better, I got some spinning done last night. Not a LOT of spinning, but still . . . I sat in front of my wheel and treadled and wool ran through my fingers and ultimately, that’s all that matters, right? It might not be coming along very quickly, but this second bobbin of “Carbon” is, at least, coming along.

Awww . . . Chappy’s stretched out next to me right now, sound asleep, but his tail’s wagging.

I TOLD you it was a good day! Hope yours was the same.

Tulip

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Well, I figure, everyone else is showing, you know, autumnal pictures, so I decided to harken back to the Spring. May, to be exact. On Martha’s Vineyard. Chappy and I were standing on the street waiting for Mom to come out of a restaurant with our dinner, and we noticed these beautiful tulips outside a shop. And, well, it’s not like I had anything else to do at the moment. And, they WERE awfully pretty….

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Could A Boy Named Ken Be Kin?

Well, I TRIED to take a picture of Chappy with his new hair cut for you. He’s needed one for a couple of weeks now, and finally, I couldn’t stand it and got out the scissors while Mom was making supper tonight. (The added distraction both helped and hindered the “Chappy, hold still” routine.) He looks absolutely handsome and dapper with his newly-trimmed fur, but even though I solemnly promised him that the flash was turned off, he refused to look at the camera. (You’d think a boy would trust his mother.)

So, what’s a girl to do?

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Grab hold and force him to pose for the camera, of course!

And, no, I wasn’t exactly miserable about it, either.

(Really, it’s almost impossible to tell where my hair stops and his fur begins, isn’t it? But then, as I keep saying, we ARE both Boykens. I mean, I’m a BoykEn and he’s a BoykIn, but still.)

We’re both relieved that the grooming-torture is over for the day. He doesn’t really mind getting a hair cut, as long as it doesn’t take more than 10 minutes or so, but we also did his nails at lunch time, and he hates that. We use a Dremel nail grinder rather than clippers, but still . .  not fun for either of us. There definitely are times I wish his nails weren’t dark, chocolate brown, you know? (Incidentally, the best explanation I’ve ever read about using a Dremel on dog nails? Here at Dober Dawn . . . the link is on the bottom left.)

I even had a nice little chat about him while I was feeding my car after work. The fellow filling the tank (it’s all full-service in New Jersey, you know) commented as he was handing me back my credit card, “I noticed the frame on your license plate says “Proud mother of a Boykin Spaniel,” and I noticed your last name on your credit card is Boyken, and I …” Of course, I saw where he was going and was all ready with the brief, familiar explanation. “It’s a real dog breed… it’s the state dog of South Carolina… bred originally by a man named Whit Boykin from a dog he found outside of church one Sunday, and the name caught my eye because it was so close to mine and . . . ” so on. Since I had my card case right there and he was being very nice about his curiosity (not creepy like some of the people who work at gas stations), I showed him a picture of Chappy, and he sounded surprised when he said, “That’s a cute little dog!”

Well, duh. Of course he’s cute. He’s a Boyken/Boykin, right?

Peeking

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So, Dave wanted to see my drawer, huh?

Okay, my top drawer at work. Tissues, cough drops, nail file, hand cream. A bottle of ink and a paper towel to dry off my pen nib after I’ve filled it. Advil. Emergency sewing kit. Tic tacs. Spare mug. A USB cable in case I want to hook up my camera or my MP3 player to my office computer.

Nothing all that exciting. My desk actually has two top drawers, and the other one is much more boring. Envelopes, spare staples and a couple of ballpoint pens. Oh, and a staple remover. That’s about it. It wasn’t interesting enough to warrant a photo.

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Unlike this.

This beautiful 2-ounce bump of merino/tencel blend in “Aspen” came today. I took it out of its box and immediately wanted to throw all the other fibers aside and start spinning this. Immediately. It’s almost-turquoise blue and the golden yellows and brows . . . all in that silky, shiny merino/tencel blend . . . oh my . . .

And, did I say I wanted to spin it immediately?

Although, you’ll be proud of me for having held out this long.

Incidentally, for those of you on Ravelry–it’s gotten impossible to keep up with everyone coming in, so, if you’re in, or when you get in, my name’s Chappysmom, okay? Which, I figure, SHOULD be easy to remember, but you never know….


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Suggested by Marsha:

Buy a Friend a Book Week
is October 1-7 (as well as the first weeks of January, April, and
July). During this week, you’re encouraged to buy a friend a book for
no good reason. Not for their birthday, not because it’s a holiday, not
to cheer them up–just because it’s a book.

What book would you choose to give to a friend and why?

And, if you’re feeling generous enough-–head on over to Amazon and actually send one on its way!

Not actually an easy question. There are a number of books I’d like to get various friends and family to read. The Lymond Chronicles for my friend Dawn. The Little House on the Prairie books for Mom because, darn it, how did she grow up without reading them? The complete Jane Austen for my sister who, so far, has only read Pride & Prejudice. My own, unpublished book for my niece, who hasn’t read it, but really, don’t you think that since she’s family, she should, whether it’s published or not?

Playing

I have remarkably little to talk about tonight, and having foolishly shown you all of my update photos yesterday . . . well . . .

How about a snippet of video of Koni and Max playing while we were visiting last week? (Although, no, Chappy’s not in it–he was keeping his distance!)

Progression

It feels like forever since I talked about my knitting and spinning . . . how’d that happen?

So….

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Here are my Ribby sleeves. Close but not quite done. The big question is whether that skein of yarn . . . which I’m working at from either end . . . is going to make it through to the top of the sleeves. I’m hoping so because, while I have more yarn, I really don’t want to have to wind another skein into a ball just for, you know, an inch or so of sleeve! (And in the meantime I’m wondering what it would look like if I just finished the top in the blue I used for the body. Just in case, you understand.)

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Then there’s Autumn Rose, of course, who’s coming along very nicely indeed. Not to mention quickly, what with the ridiculously off-gauge row-gauge of 25 rows over 4″/10cm. It IS helping move the sweater along, that’s for sure. Another 24 rows and we’ll be at the underarm. Which is also, with my revamp of the neckline, where the neckline will start. (It’s much lower than that on the original pattern.) Still . . . she looks so darn pretty.

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And I have at least touched my spinning . . . although the several yards of singles I added on last night were not exactly my best work. I was feeling both stressed and out of practice (not to mentioned tired, since it was 11:15) by the time I made it to my wheel, so I literally only spun for about five minutes. But still. At least Little Gem got to do something last night.

Hey, speaking of spinning–how cool. Kristi is knitting with my handspun. It looks great, too. I feel (sniff) like a proud Mom, watching her kid go off and be a success….

It’s a plus that tonight is the start of the new Fall television season. Although Mom and I are going to have some challenges . . . there are at least three different time-slots that I can think of that have conflicts for us . . . Not to mention a couple slots that don’t work at all. Like Beauty and the Geek being on at 8:00 on Tuesdays–Mom loves it, I don’t, and that means on Tuesday nights I have to come up to my room an hour earlier than usual and deal with the headache-inducing vibration from our annoying dishwasher rumbling through the floor (since my bedroom is right above the kitchen and my favorite spot to sit is on the floor right above the dishwasher). And I also, therefore, lose my knitting time for Tuesday nights, because I can’t knit in my bedroom nearly as easily as I can in front of the television in the family room. And no, we don’t have Tivo or any variation of it. We’ve got a VCR and a DVD-recorder with a hard-drive, but since the DVD-R is attached to the cable box, you can only record whatever channel is ON the cable box . . . You know, really, I hate cable boxes. Ever since we’ve had them, we can’t use the P-i-P feature on the television and, more annoyingly, we can’t record a show that we’re not watching. I really hate that.

Though, this reminds me. I need to set the VCR in my bedroom to record Chuck tonight at 8:00, so that we can watch How I Met Your Mother, and then I’ll just have to carry the video tape down to the family room on, lordy, I don’t even know when we’re going to be able to watch this . . . sheesh. Stupid television programmers . . . making my life difficult. Do you suppose that they just assume that EVERYONE has Tivo these days, so that they don’t care when they schedule things? Or is it just that they try to make our lives more difficult? Interesting question….

Before and After

Here’s Dad’s office Before:
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It’s hard to see, but the L-shaped desk was in the middle of the tiny room. The filing cabinet was in the far corner so you had to climb around the back of the desk and over all the computer cables to reach it. Two smaller filing cabinets under the desk, and an extra “drawer” unit kind of floating alongside the desk. Very little floor space, really.

Here’s the After:

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The desk moved forward so that it’s directly under the window, its drawer unit back under the desk where it belongs, the printer cart next to it, and the filing cabinets–the tall and the two short–lined up in the corner in a straight line from the door. And, finally, that big, long, rectangular picture hung up on the wall. It’s a print of a golf course that Dad won at some golf tournament or other, and it’s been on the floor, leaning on the wall in our hallway for a couple months now.

The Reward:

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The reward for all these labors? A homemade apple pie that I baked after work last night. The crust, I admit, came from Pillsbury, but the filling was all mine. I told everybody that I “wung” it . . . as in, the past-tense of “wing it,” because, of couse, “winged it” just didn’t have the same flair, you know? The family chewed on that verb form for a while while I cut the pie . . . As a rule, I use language correctly, you understand, and don’t usually make up my own words, so they were a little shocked . . . especially when they thought, at first, that I seriously thought that “wung” was the correct, Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary-endorsed word. I mean, really, you’d think a person couldn’t play around with words around here . . . and, also really, when did the rest of MY family become so obsessed with words, anyway? That’s usually my job!

But, anyway, the pie was worth it. I think I hit the proportions of sugar, spices, cornstarch, etc. just right. Heaven knows that it smelled, well, heavenly, while it was baking last night.

Knitting? I’m almost done with my Ribby sleeves. One more sitting, I think, and they’ll be done . . . just so long as the ball of yarn holds out. I’m working both sleeves from the same skein at this point, and it’s going to be close as to whether it makes it. I sincerely hope that it does, though, because having to wind a fresh ball of yarn just to finish an inch or so of sleeve would be more than a little frustrating.

I haven’t done any spinning lately. I’ve been spending a lot of time trolling the internet for business kinds of things. There have been some really scary money conversations around here lately, and the need for some (or, really, a lot) of extra cash is kind of crucial. Please send good vibes, thoughts, prayers for our success, would you? And, hey, if I opened a CafePress store with pictures of yarn and fiber and stuff on things like notecards and calendars, would any of you be interested? And, darn, this would be an extraordinarily good time, cosmically-speaking, to get that book of mine published. I keep promising the fates that, if I manage to sell it, the money’s going to the good of the family, not into my pockets for frivolous spending . . . that kind of good-faith karma should help, right?

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Oh, and I’m so glad I posted that blue-sky picture earlier today, because we had RAIN here today. As last days of summer go, it was kind of a bust, like summer just gave up and said, “Fine, be autumn already. Whatever.”

Of course, we had plenty of things to do inside, so I suppose it was kind of a moot point for us, anyway.

Hope you’re having a good weekend! The plus side to the family visit today? It feels remarkably like a Sunday, which means tomorrow–if I’m lucky–will kind of feel like a bonus weekend day. Which is also good, because Chappy needs to catch up on his napping. He was a busy boy today. He definitely had fun playing with his uncle . . . when, you know, he wasn’t helping direct furniture moving.

Blue

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It’s actually a pretty gray day here today, but I’m showing you a Saturday Sky picture from LAST Saturday when we were at Liz’s house. (I can’t believe that’s a week already.) Mostly because it’s a pretty picture (though not quite so stunning as it was in person, with the sun shining through those trees), but also because blue sky is so much more pleasant to look at than gray, don’t you think?

This is going to be a short, quick little post. My sister and her family are coming for a visit today. The primary reason is because we’re going to move some of the furniture around in my Dad’s office. It’s been insanely crowded for the last few months, and while he waded through piles and piles of paper a couple weeks ago so that it’s not as scarily claustrophobic to go in there, still … a different floor-plan will help matters immensely. And when I say “we” are moving the furniture, I mostly mean my brother-in-law, and tall, 14-year old nephew, who I kind of assume will be doing the heavy stuff like moving the filing cabinet. I figure I’ll be helping with the computer cables and such, trying not to sneeze at the dust because, well, it’s been pretty impossible to vacuum in there for months now, though Mom did give it a try this week.

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They will not, I hear, be driving down in this. That’s my niece’s new car. A 2002 Ford Focus that already has 8000 more miles on it than my 2002 Volvo. (Go figure.) They used some of the refunded tuition money to buy her a car so that, once she finds a job, she’ll be able to, well, get to it. Not to mention being able to commute to school next semester. She looks very, very happy, don’t you think? I particularly appreciate the irony that, even though they live in Pennsylvania, they found this car at a dealership five minutes from our house . . . which is why they stopped by yesterday afternoon to show it to Mom. (I, of course, was at work.)

Okay, I’ve got some things to get done before the family arrives, so ….

Garden State

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Some Garden State Sky from a pretty little road-side rest stop on last Sunday’s drive home.

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Sunshine and Roses

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The reverse of last week’s question:

Imagine that everything is going just swimmingly. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and all’s right with the world. You’re practically bouncing from health and have money in your pocket. The kids are playing and laughing, the puppy is chewing in the cutest possible manner on an officially-sanctioned chew toy, and in between moments of laughter for pure joy, you pick up a book to read . . .

What is it?

I think this is a pretty interesting question. (I mean, of course I do.) To a fair degree, it could be the same kind of book I picked up last week when I was “miserable”–comfort reading that just makes me feel good, because it just helps smooth that good mood along. If I’m feeling that happy, too, I probably don’t want anything that’s likely to pull my mood down–perfect, happy days like that are treasures. I’m generally a pretty happy person, but perfect, serendipitous days are still too few and far between to be the day you pick to read Anna Karenina or Tale of Two Cities. But re-reading something like Anne of Green Gables, or Pride and Prejudice? Laurie Colwin’s Happy All the Time? They FIT.

But, what would be absolutely ideal? For me? A brand-new book by a favorite author. Something I know I’ll enjoy but which is completely uncharted territory. The perfect cap to a perfect day. Ah, bliss . . .

Row, Row, Row . . .

Well, I don’t have a picture of it for you, because when I turned on my camera, it promptly said the battery was low and turned itself off, but I tried my Autumn Rose on before and the good news is that it fits just fine. This is quite a relief. The row gauge may be off, but at least the stitch gauge is more or less matching my swatch.

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See? Here’s my swatch (on the left) sitting on top of my sweater. Stitch width is just about the same, but the height? Oh my, so different. What with it being Fair Isle, it’s so easy to tell that the horizontal bands don’t match.

Now, HOW this ended up so different when I made my swatch without purl stitches and am using the same yarn and needles and all that? No idea. I mean, really. No. Idea.

(Oh, and I got this picture because I went downstairs and got the camera out of my purse.)

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And no, I haven’t finished revising my Excel chart. I laid my sweater out flat and it measures about 9.5″ long, about 40% of the total, 23″ length of the sweater. As in, a good two inches longer than it should be. Which means that, proportionately, I need to recalculate the armscrye shaping, the raglan shaping, all of that, to take the new realities of the situation.

In the chart on the right, do you see the blue line? That’s where I am on the chart, and I need to work all the neckline, sleeve, and raglan shaping proportionately between that blue line and the red line. And once that’s done, I need to do it all over again for the sleeves because, of course, they have to match.

Yes, I’m kind of stalling. Just a bit.

On the plus side, the whole, avoid-doing-the-hard-math thing gave me a chance to work on my Ribby’s sleeves. They are actually in the home stretch right now. 17″ long and about to start the shaping for the top. Woot. I really can’t wait until this sweater is done, it’s going to look fabulous.

And now that the weather is starting to feel like early autumn, that’s even better. Because, well, making sweaters is simply more exciting when you can actually conceive of wearing them, right?

Big Day

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It was a big day, today. See?

My Volvo and I passed 40,000 miles. (Please note that I was at a complete standstill when I took this photo.) This might not sound like a big number for a car that’s going to be 6 years old in December, but . .. well, it took me 5.75 years to get here, so we’re pretty pleased with ourselves.

And then, oh yeah, I saw my best and oldest friend today. This is the one who lives in California and that I only get to see a couple times a year, so that’s always a treat. I had taken the day off from work as a “recuperating” day from my fun and busy weekend, but ended up not resting at all. I drove up to Hackettstown (about 45 minutes away) to pick her up from her brother’s house and then we spent the day shopping, drinking coffee, and talking about everything under the sun. In a bout of academic back-stabbing, her contract with Stanford–where she’s taught for 10 years–was not renewed for this year and she only found out two weeks ago, so she’s going through some . . . interesting . . . stuff, career-wise. BUT on the plus side, she’s got a film showing at the Berkley Film Festival next month, which I think is fabulous (both the film itself and the film festival entry).

Of course, this means that I haven’t relaxed at all today and that I’ve had four busy, fun, sociable days in a row, following a really busy week at work last week, so tomorrow could be interesting! I mean, I was so tired tonight, I didn’t even KNIT.

Although, part of that is because I’m too tired to do math tonight.

Why math, you ask?

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Well, as usual, my gauge is completely bizarre, and true to form, my row-gauge on Autumn Rose is way, way off. I’ve got the ribbing and 47 rows done and the sweater is about 8.5″ long . . . meaning I’m getting about 25 rows to 4″ rather than the 32 called for in the pattern.

This isn’t exactly a PROBLEM, per se, but it is definitely something that needs addressing. As in, obviously, I’m going to need to rework some things. Like, say, the entire layout/chart of the sweater. And the sleeve, too. And the raglan shaping.

On the plus side, it means the sweater’s going to be done that much sooner, huh? I mean, a 23″ sweater at 8 rows to an inch is 184 rows. But at only 6.25 rows to an inch, that’s 144 rows, which means the whole thing will go faster. Weird, though, that it’s so very different from my gauge swatch. Well, at least, it will once I’ve recalculated all the shaping on my handy-dandy excel chart….

Which, unfortunately, I’m too tired to think about tonight. But, still, no matter what the gauge, it sure is pretty . . .

Cuteness

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I know, Max is hiding his face in this picture, but you’ll have to trust me when I tell you that all three of them were very, very happy when I snapped this picture yesterday.

Yes, Chappy and I are home again, but we had such a good time at Liz‘s. Her hospitality is always excellent–good food, good company, lots of laughs. And even, this time, fresh air for my car tires, courtesy of Kirk. (He also grills an excellent steak and makes a good waffle.) The new bathroom looks beautiful, too.

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And, oh yes . . . there was something else new, wasn’t there? The new puppy, Koni. Oh MY, is that a cute puppy! Friendly, fluffy, bouncy, playful, curious . . . and did I mention fluffy? And fuzzy? Because, oh, that soft, fuzzy puppy fur is just such a delight to pet, especially when attached to such a happy little fellow. One who wants to play ALL the time (grin).

Okay, so I did see him nap a little, too, but still, when I think about him, I see him as a furry perpetual-motion machine. Lovely personality, too.

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Chappy certainly liked him. He particularly liked that (for another nano-second or so) he’s still taller than Koni. It’s not going to last, but Chappy’s always just a little happier with dogs close to his own size, and he enjoyed playing with Koni. At least, some of the time. There were times when Koni was trotting along behind Chappy, and you could practically hear the classic tag-along questions: “Where are we going now, Chappy? What are you doing? Are you doing something fun? D’you wanna play?” And you could see Chappy thinking, “Just leave me alone for a little bit, kid, I just want to take a nap. Maybe we’ll play later.” Followed by “How much later? Why do you want to take a NAP? There are so many fun things to do! Look! There’s Max! We should get him to play, too!” You could practically hear the long-suffering sighs . . .

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Meanwhile, poor Max–who seems more than happy to play with his new little brother at the drop of a rawhide–could barely get Chappy to play with him at all. It is, I admit, a bit of a double-standard on my boy’s part . . . he’s more than happy to jump on, lay a paw over, a friend, but whenever anyone does it to him, he growls and stops playing. Chappy’s not a domineering dog–he’s very happy-go-lucky–but he doesn’t like being told what to do. (Well, neither do I–he probably gets that from me.) So, he’s not “dominant” in the classic sense, and usually ducks out of confrontation, but when forced, will express his displeasure . . . So, Max would come over, “Hey, buddy, wanna play?” and drape a paw over Chappy’s back and Chappy would growl, “Sure, but don’t do that, okay?” And then Max would, and Chappy would growl again, and by the third repetition or so, would follow it with a snap, “I said not to do that!” And Max would be all hurt and confused, “I thought we were going to play, but fine, I’ll just go play with Koni . . . again, like usual.”
I mean, they DID play together, but not as much as Max wanted. (Sorry, Max!) On the other hand, Max snuggled up next to me a few times–which my own dog refuses to do–so he got plenty of love and attention anyway.

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It’s interesting, though, how people’s dogs reflect their own personalities. Chappy and I both like routines, for example, but are reasonably cheerful about adapting when there’s a good reason. As in, say, different bathroom habits when away from your doggie door because you’re visiting a friend, and can’t find the right “spot” because there are too many to choose from and you’re used to the same, exact spot, every single day. Even when we take Chappy for walks around the neighborhood, 9 times out of 10, he “stops” in the same place. Max and Koni are more spontaneous, happy-go-lucky, just like Liz and Kirk seem to be. (Why bother to go there? I went there yesterday!) All I can say is, Chappy and I BOTH missed his doggie door.

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Oh, and not to get too, um, detailed, about doggie digestive issues, the answer to the big question is that yes, Chappy DID get sick in the car. On the drive down, just past Philadelphia. He and I have grown to hate Philadelphia. I mean, I’m sure the city is lovely, and the historic district is chock-full of interest, but I-95 going through Philadelphia? Hate it. Luckily, all he had in his stomach Friday morning was one biscuit, so the, er, deposit on his towel was small, um, dry, and not particularly odorous. He deposited it so very quietly, too, if I hadn’t caught a glimpse of him in the corner of my eye, I don’t think I would have noticed at all until we got there. (And, thanks again, Liz, for cleaning his towel for us.) He definitely was not feeling well when we got to Liz’s though, because he threw up, I think, three times in the hour after we arrived . . . and looked pretty queasy and mouth-foamy for a while there.

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To make him feel better, though, Koni nicely threw up his dinner in the living room later on. And apparently Ivan the cat threw up after we left. And Chappy threw up in the backyard this morning before breakfast (not that he got any breakfast this morning). Then there was the dream Liz had that Max was getting sick all over, also . . . Luckily, four-legged people usually throw off the whole, “I threw up” thing pretty quickly. Once they get it out of their system, they seem to bounce right back to “What’s next?” Unlike two-legged people, so really, Liz, Kirk and I were all glad that these . . . issues . . . were confined to the four-legged contingent.

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Chappy IS pretty glad to be home, now. For one thing, that means he’s out of the car. We took a different route home–instead of I-95 through the (evil) Philadelphia, we crossed over the Delaware Memorial Bridge and followed route 295 up through southwestern New Jersey. This despite the fact that my father told me it had traffic lights and the NJ Turnpike would be better . . . but he was mistaken. We didn’t see a single traffic light until we reached 206 just south of Princeton. That was the slowest part of the drive home, and really, I’m not sure what made me pick it, except for the fact that it was the most direct route and reasonably pretty . . . even if it feels like it takes forever, what with all the stop lights and slow-ish traffic. In terms of mileage, though, it was about the same as the route we took down (287 S to 202 S to 31 S to 95 S), and from getting on I-95 a few miles from Liz’s house, it took us 3.75 hours, including a pause at a nice rest stop to give Chappy a chance to get out of the car for a few minutes. (He did NOT want to get back in!)

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We had a really nice time, though . . . digestive issues not-withstanding. And Chappy and I are both particularly happy to have gotten to meet Koni while he’s still adorably fuzzy and puppyish. I’m quite sure he’s going to be a gorgeous young man the next time we see him, when he’ll most likely be “all grown up,” but meeting him at that stage just wouldn’t have been as much fun. Don’t get me wrong, it’s perfectly nice meeting new, friendly, adult dogs, but who can resist a puppy-face? They wear their handsome, mature, adult faces for years, but those smooshed little puppy faces are around for only a brief time. You’ve got to take advantage. Because, who could resist a face like this?

Travelling

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Hi, everyone! Chappy here.

Mom can’t come to the blog right now because she’s busy driving. We’re on our way to meet somebody new–practically brand-new . . . and fluffy–down at Liz‘s house. Mom says that, if nothing else, at least there’ll be new pictures to show, because who knows how big he’s gotten since the last set? I’m really looking forward to it . . . especially the part where I can get out of the car.

Because, frankly, I’m feeling a little queasy. I’m going to go lie down and hope we get there soon . . .

Brought to you by:

Eyecandyfriday_2.

Did You Know?

Did you know the new Knitty is up?

Did you know that Kristi has a research/meme thing going on? Always glad to help….

1. What is your current favorite color? Just one? The best I can do is say Autumn shades like gold, red, orange brown.
2. Had your favorite color changed over the years? I’m starting to lean away, a bit, from the oceany-blue-green colors I’ve been drawn to over the last couple of years . . . though I still love them.
3. Is your current favorite color one that is currently trendy? (Do you
see it in the fashion rags or on the clothes rack or in the linen aisle
right now? How about 5 years ago?) Um . . . I honestly have no idea.
4. What is your favorite color combination? Again, autumn shades like gold, red, orange brown.
5. Is that combination a popular one? (Is it use in prints you see in
the stores and catalogs and magazines now? How about 5 years ago?) Does it ever actually become UNpopular? (grin)
6. What is your favorite way of using color in your knitting? (Are you
a stranded knitter? Do you prefer simple stripes? Do you prefer just
accents at the hems/collars?) Well right now, of course, I’m doing “Autumn Rose,” which is all autumnal colors in stranded knitting, so clearly, I’m attached to that. But . . . stranded knitting and/or accents at hems and collars are my favorites. Not a big fan of stripes or color blocks.
7. What colors look good on you? Warm colors. I’ve got dark hair, pale skin, and yellow undertones to my skin, so autumn colors look best on me. (There’s more than one reason they’re my favorites.)
8. What colors look bad on you? Pastels, which make me looked washed out.
9. Do you wear colors that don’t look good on you just because you like them? Well, not on purpose, although some do look better on me than others. If I’m really drawn to a shade that’s not that flattering, I try to restrain myself to using it in socks.
10. What is your favorite neutral color?
black/white/ivory/tan/brown/gray – if brown or gray do you prefer cool
or warm versions of those or does it matter? And, how dark? Gray has been a favorite of mine for years–charcoal gray. (And, really, gray flannel–I don’t know what it is, but I love gray wool.) And Brown–warm shades of brown. I avoid black whenever possible, rarely wear white and the others are too light against my skin.
11. Is there a sweater pattern that uses more than one color that you’d
like to make, but you wish to change the colors from what is published?
If yes, which one? What do you not like about the published colors? I can’t name you one specifically, but as a rule, I almost ALWAYS play with my own color combinations when I make things. The fact that I’m using the “Autumn Rose” colors as specified in the pattern is practically unheard of for me. I honestly can’t remember the last time I used the colors given in a patter, mixing my own is one of my favorite parts. Prior to the A.R. sweater on the needles now, the Union Square Market Pullover two years ago is the closest I’ve come to using “pattern” colors in, oh, I can’t think how long!

Did you know that it’s also Booking Through Thursday?

btt button

Okay . . . picture this (really) worst-case scenario: It’s cold and
raining, your boyfriend/girlfriend has just dumped you, you’ve just
been fired, the pile of unpaid bills is sky-high, your beloved pet has
recently died, and you think you’re coming down with a cold. All you
want to do (other than hiding under the covers) is to curl up with a
good book, something warm and comforting that will make you feel better.

What do you read?

I thought this was an interesting question. Usually, for me, “comfort reading” has to meet several criteria. (1) It needs to be something I’ve ever read before and loved or something new by a tried-and-true author I can trust not to let me down in my time of need. (2) It needs to be something that will be reasonably distracting and entertaining–nothing too serious, nothing too dark, though not necessarily something all sunshine and light, either, because, (3) It needs to be something that will make me feel better. Like chicken soup when you have a cold, or a plate of stew on a cold day . . . something warm and comforting, like a big hug. So, what do I usually end up reading? Usually it’s either a fantasy book, or some YA kind of book from my childhood. Not always, mind you, but there’s something comforting about revisiting the Secret Garden, or Robin McKinley’s Beauty . . . something I KNOW I’ll enjoy and that has a good chance of making me feel all warm and cozy.

Now, did you know that I need to go pack? Or maybe I’ll just wait until the morning . . .

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I got a call at the office around 11:00 that our burglar alarm was going off, but Mom was about half an hour away, Dad was golfing, and that left me. So I dropped what I was doing and drove home to meet with a nice police officer and our good friend-neighbor who is our “backup” for the alarm. By then, the alarm was silent, the officer had walked around the property to check for problems . . . and questioned the landscapers who were here to mow the lawn, because, I suppose, they theoretically could have been thieves, right?
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I said thank you to both, they left, and I came inside to see how Chappy was doing. (“The bells! The bells!”) He was very glad to see me and was panting a bit . . . obviously, he’d been busy. Although, doing what, we’re not sure–the policeman said he hadn’t heard any barking which is totally unlike Chappy. I wonder if he was hiding under a pillow somewhere, praying for the scary noise to stop? Anyway, I petted him and then called Mom’s cell to tell her everything was fine, and she told me she was on her way home, and to wait for her . . . Um, okay. She was a little upset . . . in fact, I’m not sure who was more unhappy about the whole thing, her or Chappy. But, really, everything was fine–it was an internal sensor that set everything off and the only one in the house was Chappy, as it should be, but it made for an interesting morning.

So, what ELSE has been going on here today? Well, I’m glad you asked! I got a rejection back to one of the queries I sent out last week. That . . . because I checked my files . . . makes 23 rejections. I started sending this book out in January 1999 (yes, eight years ago). I sent it out many times up until late summer that year, when I obviously got very discouraged, because I didn’t send it out again until 2003. A brief flurry, then . . . that’s it until last week.

Because, of course, rejection isn’t exactly fun. You can tell yourself that everybody, every writer, goes through it, and that it’s only the ones who persevere who ever succeed. But it doesn’t make it any easier, not really. I do still have faith in my book, mind you. In fact, I reread it (or, most of it) recently and thought it was just as enjoyable as ever. It’s a book that I personally would buy in a minute if I saw it in the store. Which, actually, is what made me sit down to write it in the first place. I liked the story idea so much and nobody else had written it, so . . . clearly I needed to take matters into my own hands, right? Oh well. *I* like it,  anyway. (Silly agents . . . their loss, right?)

Let’s see, what else? Well, my niece is no longer enrolled at Wilkes. (I know, that was fast.) She hated her classes, didn’t like the town or the campus, hadn’t made any friends, was incredibly lonely, showing signs of depression, and basically miserable. So, she’s now back at home, looking for a job, and will go back to school–most likely at county college, or East Stroudsburg University, which is close enough to commute to. Mom saw her and my sister today and said my niece looks happy–this was a really hard decision for her, but she is so relieved and feels so good about it, it was obviously the right one for her.

I just hope she still likes the sweater I made her….

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Speaking of sweaters, though, at least Autumn Rose is coming along. I’ve got one color band done, am on the plain rows separating that from the next section. Slowly, but it is coming along. Lucky I’m not in a rush, huh?

Oh, and my new cd? Enjoying it quite a lot. Especially the title track, “Life With You.” The lyrics are great. In fact, I keep thinking about Chappy when I hear them. We have a “tradition” of having songs that “click” with our different dogs. Jilly’s was heard just after we’d lost her: N-Sync’s “God Must Have Spent a Little More Time on You.” (Yes, I know, N-Sync equals gag, but that song was good–and appropriately emotionally sappy for someone who’d just lost her dog and is emotionally-vulnerable.) Then, Katy’s was Savage Garden’s “I Knew I Loved You Before I Met You.” (Yes, I know, another boy-band, but I heard the song the day before I picked her up at the airport and the lyric was absolutely perfect. So sue me. Besides, I think their music was actually pretty good. Say what you want about boy-bands–and you can say a lot–but at least they had harmony. I do love a good tune with tight harmony….)

Anyway, Chappy, though, has been “song-less” these last six years, but I don’t know . . . these lyrics on such a catchy tune? Maybe it’s time, huh? “Every time I think about you, I think I can’t live without you. I’ll tell you something, I am nothing without you. I want to spend my life with you. Don’t want to live all alone. I can’t conceive of the years left to me without you in our home….”

And, well, the video’s pretty entertaining, too. The song’s a real toe-tapper. See? I found the video for you. And the album is available at iTunes.

Proclamation

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Here’s my upcoming evening in a nutshell.

My knitting bag, a book for Dummies, the Liaden series finale, and . .. what’s that? The new Proclaimers album?? Thanks so much, Caroline!

Some of you may remember the story: How I was sent a link to the British Amazon site, but when I looked it up on the US version, it was, um, rather expensive. So, Caroline nicely offered to pick up a copy and mail it to me. (Can I just say how much I love knit-bloggers?) She’s got a box with yarn winging its way toward her right now–I shipped it on Saturday, so she should have it in a few days.)

I’m listening to the album right now and am definitely enjoying it. I don’t always agree with their political statements, but that doesn’t change the fact that the songs are good listening. That title track alone is worth the price of the cd–a toe-tapping, upbeat love song. (Well, you know, the “normal” price, not the outrageously-inflated “import” price.) And, speaking of these brothers, did anybody else know that there’s a musical, Sunshine On Leith, based on their songs? I had no idea.

Oh, and you’ll be glad to know that I actually spun for a few minutes last night. Not many of them, but at least I was in front of the wheel. That counts for something, right?

A couple links I thought were interesting:

First, on this, the anniversary of 9/11/01, this essay by Anna Quindlen about our (America’s) reaction to it–what it was, and what it could have been–was so beautifully expressed. It’s still such a sad day, in so many ways.

This one from the New Yorker about the encroaching “feature creep” with more and more “Cool New Features” on everything we buy, when, in fact, most of us never use them, even if we know how.

I thought this was a pretty interesting analysis about how our eyes actually, physically read … although I was reading it under the influence of eye-fatigue, so, that may have influenced my interpretation.

The Other Birthday Girl

On Friday, I showed you some Katy pictures but today would have been Jilly’s birthday, so . . . fair’s fair, right? Jilly was a miniature-dachshund and she would have been, let’s see, 24? We got her when she was 8 months old, when I was still in high school, and we lost her in February 1999, when she was 15. Saying good-bye to her wasn’t easy, either, but at least she’d had a long, full life . . .

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Yeah, we all loved her an awful lot, too….

Inside Track

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I thought it would be refreshing to show you today’s “update” photo of Autumn Rose in “reverse,” as it were. As in, from the inside. I mean, it looks pretty good from the inside, too, and I wouldn’t want you getting bored looking at basically the same photo every day, with incremental progress, so . . .

Besides, variety is the spice of life, right?

And, anyway, at least you can see the progress is being made. it’s getting wider, which is a plus. But still . . . there are 104 pattern rows until the I get to the underarms and I’ve only done 20 so far.

On the plus side, at least I’ve finally got the stitch marker thing worked out. I’ve said that I kept losing my place on the chart, so I reformatted my chart to have bold, vertical lines at the “center” stitch of each repeat, and that’s it. Not every 10 stitches like on the original chart. That kept messing me up. This is working much better. That, and my colorized chart.

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Now, remember when I talked about adjusting the colors? Not so much because I didn’t absolutely love the autumn-inspired colors, but because, well, I like to tweak. So, I did. Tweak the colors. I’m shifting the light colors one row off from the dark colors. It’s a very subtle change. Here’s a picture of my original swatch (left) against my sweater-in-progress (right). It’s barely noticeable, the difference, and you might not see it at all. (And, really, it is easier in person.) Instead of changing both colors at the same time, so that the “stripe” is more pronounced, my color changes overlap, just a little.

Like I said, it’s really, really subtle.

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I saw Julie’s post about absorption pasta a couple weeks ago and thought it sounded really interesting. I read the original post that inspired her, and then browsed around  . . . what an intriguing idea! Basically, it’s pasta cooked like risotto. I used this post as my inspiration. There wasn’t much handy in the kitchen, but I sauteed some garlic in olive oil, tossed in some ziti and stirred to coat. Then I added about 3/4 cup of leftover meat sauce, some frozen corn, and topped it off with enough boiling water to cover and added some seasonings. After it had simmered for a few minutes, I added some fresh asparagus, and then cooked the whole thing until the “sauce” was reduced down to reasonable quantities.

I really have to tell you, this was so easy, and it came out absolutely delicious. Only one pot to clean, too. Actually, Mom and I tried another variation the other night–pasta, onion, garlic, squash, corn, tomato, and a box of chicken broth. It was also delicious. I think this is my new favorite method for cooking pasta. Especially since I’m really not a big fan of tomato sauce. Although tomato sauce is a tricky thing in our family–Dad and I don’t like chunky sauces. Mom can’t stomach too many spices or too much garlic. Or peppers. She and I like vegetables, but Dad doesn’t. Although I don’t like cooked tomato chunks at all. (Those “chop tomatoes and toss with fresh basil” recipes that so many people love, I can’t abide.) Finding a sauce that we can all agree on is always difficult. (I won’t tell you the name of the one sauce we can mostly all agree on, because the minute I put the name out there, the tomato-sauce-gods are going to see it and stop making it.) Anyway, my point is that, any way that I can come up with for pasta that’s NOT just pasta with tomato sauce dumped on top is definitely a plus.

Oh, and for the record, freshly-cooked, “real” tomato sauce is a whole ‘nother story. If it’s just been simmered and the flavors still taste fresh . . . you know, like at an italian restaurant . . . that’s just fine with me. I’ve even made homemade sauce which even I find delicious . . . but the minute the extras have sat in the refrigerator for longer than 24-36 hours? Um, no. By then, it tastes like it came out of a jar and I’m just not interested any more!

Hope you all had a good weekend!