Anniversary at the Fair, Part Two

While taking in the local county fair (much more akin to what was available at our state fair than my small-town-Iowa experience), I was drawn to examining the 4-H projects.

Several categories were familiar to me, like sewing, photography, and baking (although the latter was enhanced with a "Microwave Foods" portion).

Woodworking was another familiar category. Look at this roll-top desk.

And this beautiful piece was another stellar example, although compared to my fair growing up, the woodworking entries were particularly sparse and small in scope. Word has it that the overall projects had decreased in number from past years, due to the early dates of the fair as well as the hurting economy.

But I was struck with the new (or new to me) categories. Take, for instance, "Scarecrow."

Or "Architectural Model." I chose my favorite instead of the random LEGO scenes that didn't make sense to me, although this one only warranted a red ribbon.

Here's an example of "Farm Toy Scenes."

And three "Gift Wrapping" examples.

Finally, our favorite category was "Recycling," where students repurposed broken or incomplete items. Here is a bureau transformed into a snake aquarium.

Eric enjoyed this purse made from records and lined with fabric inside.

I marveled at this paneled screen transformed into a puppet stage.

Are these categories new to you as well? Or is this where I learn my small 4-H chapter was keeping me in the dark when it came to nontraditional categories?

Anniversary at the Fair, Part One (or "I Like Ducks!")

Today marks our sixth wedding anniversary, and it coincided with the local county fair, so we partook in the festivities.

Please enjoy my participation in one of the duck races. I volunteered at Eric's urging, but he didn't have to do much to convince me:



Since my duck won the race, I reprised my role in the finals round, but all I won in that race was the honor of being doused by the little girl next to me who was urging her duck on.

In my next post, I'll share some of my favorite 4-H project categories.

The Nancy Challenge

I’m toying around with an unofficial challenge, spurred on by Liz’s example. She had purchased 10 knitting and crochet books and vowed to make at least one project from each before the end of 1000 days. I keep examining the books I gained from Rachel, and I’ve earmarked several projects out of each. I don’t know if I’ll end up making one out of each book, and some books will offer several projects I want to make, but I think it will average to around that. And I certainly won’t limit myself to 1000 days – some of these projects are pretty intense and this may keep me company for lo these many years. Nevertheless, I think this is a fitting tribute to Rachel entrusting me with these books that were treasured and put to good use by Nancy, a gifted knitter. In the spirit of naming this undertaking, it will be aptly called the Nancy Challenge.

I started a child’s sweater out of Alice Starmore’s Celtic Collection, but after getting about five inches into the front panel, I am going to rip out. Turns out that I didn’t like the complementary color I spontaneously grabbed. The blue base with the white accent was too dated for my tastes, so I quickly knit up a green baby sweater so I knew how much of that yarn was leftover if I choose to stick with using a complementary color instead of switching to all blue. Turns out there’s plenty remaining, and the green should do a better job of blending with the blue.

Here’s a preview of that project with the old blue and white colors:

And here’s the green sweater I made so I could snatch the leftover yarn:

I’m also contemplating what solid color to use for the lacy Latvian socks in the Folk Socks book. I will also tackle the striped Guernsey ones so they can serve as a reminder of the delightful Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society book I so enjoyed this spring.

I don’t think I’m doing too badly – three concrete projects from two books already decided, albeit still not cast on.

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

A Knitting Update

I’ve shirked a knitting update, but I have been busily working away on various projects in the background.

After my Minnesota trip, Liz surprised me with a sock-knitting book in the mail, one that I’d been drooling over: Wendy Johnson’s Socks from the Toe Up. I’ve already finished my first pair from the book, using Louet Fingering Gems yarn from that recent trip and in the process tried out three new techniques detailed therein.

First, there was a new provisional cast-on for the toe. Up to this point, whenever I’d made a toe-up pair, I’d been dependent on the ever popular short-row toe, but Wendy detailed a new way to create gussets and turn the heel (my second new technique). And when I reached the top, there was a new bind-off technique, one which had use knit 1, purl 1 ribbing, then separate the stitches onto two separate needles and graft to finish. The first two were very useful, but I think I still prefer the sewn bind-off. It seems to boast more stretch, as well as requiring less preparatory work beforehand.

However, I will say that Wendy is very clear in her explanations. I’d encountered the above-mentioned bind-off in another pattern, but there were no accompanying photos and the description seemed awkward, so I avoided trying it. This book has several socks that I’d like to try, as well as another heel. And the photos are generous, showing several large color pictures from various angles for each and every pattern.

Here is my finished pair of socks from the Diamond Gansey pattern in the book, informally called the Liz Socks since the book and yarn hold memories of my trip.

It seems appropriate to showcase these socks now in Liz's honor since she is getting married this weekend, and I won't be able to attend. Instead, I will be touching base with old high-school friends at my reunion and sending all my wishes for wedded bliss her way. I feel blessed for my friends, both old and new -- it's a shame I haven't yet discovered how to be in two different parts of the country at the same time.

Book Recommendations

When it comes to books, I tend to gravitate to enjoying the classics. I’ll read recent works, but the details and background given in classics satisfy my desire to get inside everyone’s heads to learn their motivations.

However, in the last couple months, several of the recently published books I’ve read have been quite delightful. I’ll be brief, as I prefer to know as little as possible when beginning a new book, but I hope one of these might tempt you. Here they are, beginning with the most enjoyable.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
This was by far my favorite. I had to read an excerpt based on the title alone, and then I was hooked. The majority of the book is composed of letters among the protagonist (an author) and others in the period shortly after World War II. By happenstance she begins corresponding with a number of Guernsey islanders about their experiences during WWII while they were closed off from war communications. The final section of the book deviates from the epistle format; while I understood the reasoning for this, I preferred the former exchanges. I tend to write down favorite lines and passages I come across, and this had a number, testifying to the authors’ skills to perfectly capture the way things are. The characters are endearing and believable and filled with life.

A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini
It can’t hold a candle to The Kite Runner, but it affected me more profoundly, if that can be. The experiences of the women in Afghanistan through the regime changes are detailed, as well as their loss of freedoms and how others manipulated this for their own aims. It’s a depressing read, but I didn’t feel patronized with a manufactured happy ending.

The Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford
This is the story of a friendship between a Chinese-American boy and a Japanese-American girl, beginning around Pearl Harbor and continuing through internment camps and beyond.

Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri
I enjoyed Lahiri’s earlier work The Namesake, so that led me to pick up this book of short stories. Some are more gripping than others, but I appreciate Lahiri’s rhythm and the accounts aren’t formulaic. I respect an author who doesn’t shy away from portraying realistic endings.

Still Alice by Lisa Genova
The verdict is not yet in on this one. It’s the account of a woman diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s and the transformations in her family relationships as her condition worsens. I haven’t been gripped yet, and I’m a third in, but it hasn’t been discarded either.

The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls
If you humor me to jump back to books I read last summer, I also recommend this memoir that’s depressing and redemptive all in one go. I might rank this one highest of all, but it’s hard to compare memoirs to novels since their motivations are so different. Walls has experienced quite the life and yet it didn’t break her. Frustrating and hard for me to read, but valuable and one that has stuck with me.

The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch
And another short memoir from last summer was one that has made the rounds. I cried throughout as I read his account of facing death and coming to terms of preparing for his imminent departure from his wife and young kids. He sprang to stardom after his lecture of the same name made the rounds on YouTube, and this book was borne from that response.

If you’ve read any good books lately, do share. I’m always interested in discovering new ones to read.

Introducing Dante

Every Christmas, my sister’s and her husband’s cats repeatedly act out the various scenario with Augustine.

Juris and Asher: Wow, we’re so glad you’re here! We’ll be happy to show you the best places to hunt for crickets or spiders, and the window ledges are really wide, which is great for watching everything going on outdoors. Speaking of that, sometimes there’s this cat that comes in the afternoon to see us, and we’re friends, and we watch for her and talk through the window at her, and you might get to meet her. And you can have some of our food and water -- can we have some of yours? -- and we’ll show you how to meow through the doors when everyone is upstairs and…

Augustine: I’m going to hiss at you through this door and hide under the bed, okay? Please don’t try to come after me, or I will be forced to swat my paw at you.

Juris and Asher: Ooh, you have a litter box – can we see?! And then we’ll show you the best closets for exploring and there’s a really awesome jungle gym we play on and there are some really comfortable chairs and couches and then this bed is great for sleeping on and we’d also like to smell you and let you join in our chasing games and chewing on ribbons and bows and…

Augustine: Get thee behind me, Satan!

Lest you think I jest, I offer into evidence the following photo of the first Christmas Augustine met Juris.

Finally, this past year, she started warming up to them, insofar as she could lay on the floor in the same room as them without having a panic attack every single moment.

Is now the proper time to tell you we adopted a new kitten? Yes, we’re gluttons for punishment, but we had been considering a second pet and we saw a sappy news story about how people were being forced to give up their pets during this trying economic time because they couldn’t afford to feed them. So we decided we could certainly feed an additional cat, and Augustine has gotten a little [ahem, quite] portly seemingly overnight, so forced exercise might be a convenient bonus.

We scoured Petsmart and the representatives plying their animals from various shelters, all while trying to decide which feline would freak out Augustine the least. We were leaning towards a male because they seem more agreeable, and age was a strong factor. We hypothesized a small kitten would be perceived by Augustine as less threatening than a peer would have been; her maternal instinct might kick in, or more likely, she could smack him around to let him know the pecking order. I’m sure the cute factor played no part in our decision-making; it was all purely logical because I am a philosopher’s wife and that’s the way I roll.

Enter Dante from a local humane society. Dante is about nine weeks old and weighs two pounds. He’s a sweet, affectionate little guy (Eric’s favorite part). He’s quiet (my favorite part). And he’s polydactyl (our veterinarian’s favorite part). The jury is still out about his response to yarn, although early indications are not promising. There will be continued interventions on this front.


We brought him home and kept him quarantined for just over a week until he got a clean bill of health from our veterinarian. During that time, there arose minimal hissing and growling from Augustine, but they sniffed at each other through the closed door, and later through a screen of sorts that allowed them to see each other.

I hardly dare suggest that they’re friends since it’s been a mere three days of exposure, but the drama has been nonexistent. Augustine has been caught grooming Dante (I know!), and they’ll sleep near each other (more Dante’s doing than Augustine’s). I think it’s safe to say we dodged a bullet. I had prepared myself for months of fighting and animosity, and given Augustine’s prior behavior with Juris and Asher, that was a safe assumption, so you can understand why we’re still in shock that it’s been so anticlimactic.

Eight Months Later

While the pain is still deep, the tears are less frequent now. I think several things have alleviated my suffering, a couple of which I’ll mention here.

One, I was in such a cloud for the entirety of my hospital stay that the experience is this hazy memory. I think I got a total of a (very short) row and a half knit on the first day of bedrest, but my eyesight was such that knitting and reading were out of the question. I dictated work and personal emails to Eric and the TV gave constant coverage of the political scene during the primaries. If I didn’t have evidence of fading stretch marks or the pregnancy experience in general, I would hardly trust my memories. I guess that’s one grace of having been so sick, but there is an irrational part of me that wishes I had been more alert so I could have capitalized on every moment of Katherine's life instead of being unable to control my exhaustion. I understand my body was just trying to recover from the surgery-preeclampsia-HELLP Syndrome trifecta, but the feeling is there.

Two, since Katherine was never brought home, in one sense our house was never touched by her presence. There are memories everywhere – the overflowing box of cards, Julie’s painting, the photos of her and the prints of her hands and feet, small items of clothing both purchased and knit. But there aren’t the memories of crawling out of bed to tend to her cries or holding her as she slept. No memories of her nursing or of introducing her to Augustine or changing soiled diapers.

Just these disjointed, foggy memories of her birth and that beautiful wail she let out as she tested her newfound lungs. Memories of first being wheeled down to the NICU, then trying my legs at walking. Memories of sitting by the side of her incubator and talking to her as I stroked her frail body. Memories of pumping and Eric or Heather running the collection tubes down to her. Memories of the nurses or Eric updating me to her steady progress, then the memories of holding my little girl as she left this world.

Some nights, though, as Augustine comes looking to cuddle with me as I drift off to sleep, I cradle her little ten-pound form in my right arm just so – exactly as she insists – and as she settles down and lays her head onto my chest or against my neck, my throat turns raw and my face constricts as I think about how I wished I were instead cradling my precious daughter.

A Weekend in the Twin Cities

This past weekend consisted of a whirlwind trip to and from the Twin Cities. Late Friday night, Liz met me at the airport, and we spent the next few hours driving and talking into the night.

Caffeine did its part in our trip Saturday as we woke up after four hours of sleep to wander some yarn shops in the Twin Cities.

I did my best to dissuade myself from impulse purchases by trolling Ravelry beforehand and running some advanced searches within my library and my queue for projects that took 750 yards or less of yarn. With that list, I tried to focus and commit each yarn purchase to a specific project.

First stop, Three Kittens. This is where the infamous milk yarn and corn yarn could be found. I bought a skein of each, even without projects in mind. After all, when fiber is made from foodstuffs, it’s practically written that thou must buy. Furthermore, these are what all those “One Skein” books were written for.


Second stop, the Yarnery. Our steps quickened once we saw the “SALE” banner out front. All yarn was twenty percent off, some thirty-five percent off. Those discounts made it easy to pick up some sock yarn as well as some yarn for a baby sweater.


Third stop, Borealis Yarns. This place had some drool-worthy yarns, but I was starting to be overwhelmed. They had some beautiful roving, but with a non-functional wheel, it was easy to avoid that purchase.

Only after much deliberation did I settle on some more Cascade 220, this time for a sweater from a book given to me by a dear friend from high school.


I hadn’t yet shared here the windfall of some amazing books. This fall an old high-school friend offered to let me look through her mother’s knitting books and adopt what I wanted. Her mother was an amazing knitter, particularly specializing in sweaters. I felt so honored to be given stewardship over these books – they’re my own connection to Nancy’s memory. I am now in possession of some Kaffe Fossett, Alice Starmore, Meg Swanson, Barbara Walker, and others. And while I can’t promise I will go to the extent that Liz did to commit to make something from every single book I own, I vow to familiarize myself with them enough and try to come close.

Anyway, back to our trip. By early afternoon, we were spent, both fiscally and physically. So away we drove, Liz dreaming of which projects she was going to cast on within moments of walking in the door, and me berating myself for having no extra needles, thus subjecting myself to working on one of my (three) in-progress projects. Good conversation, barbecue, and coffee continued into Sunday.

Sunday morning, after experiencing some torrential rains, we found my sister, and the second part of my visit commenced. I was able to visit her church and meet some of her good friends, followed by helping her in the studio on her sculpture project. This involved me helping her stir and pour two hundred pounds of concrete.

Then she later dropped me off at the house for the third and final part of my visit. Another friend had offered to let me crash at their place since they’re not far from the airport, thus making my mid-day return that much easier. We spoke a few hours, until society dictated we turn in for the night. I spent a couple leisurely hours with their darling dog the next day before starting my journey home.

First off, I feel I should give a defense for finding the need to include three different knitting projects on a trip of less than 72 hours duration. But each served its purpose, as my fellow knitting readers know. First was the lacy drop-stitch scarf, fairly mindless but the thinness of the fiber made it fiddly and not the best choice during the turbulent flights. Second was the garter-rib sock, truly mindless. Third was the faux-cable sock, which allowed me a little mental engagement. However, the latter required me to follow a chart, and while I wanted to make progress during the weekend, I didn’t want to have to spread out on the airplane, especially if I had neighbors who wouldn’t appreciate my set-up.

In addition to sharing time on three different knitting projects, I read a couple books on my trip. I made progress on Jhumpa Lahiri’s Unaccustomed Earth and I finished Jamie Ford's Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet. Again, like my yarn defense, I need to be prepared in the literary realm for whatever mood might strike me (I’m hoping you’ve all forgotten that I have nearly 30 unabridged volumes on my iPod, but those are all classics, and sometimes a girl’s gotta read a book written in her lifetime).

All in all, a successful and rewarding trip.