Crazy Lanea

Midway points

I accomplished a fair amount over the last couple of weeks, but never got around to showing you.  I finished the first kilt hose (what is the singular of hose?  hosen?  holy crap, have I just realized that "hose" has no singulative? now I have to go read some linguistics . .  .)

I know it looks wonky, but I have clogger-calves, and relatively small ankles, and then bigger heels.   It's probably all because of percussive dance.  Anyway, yes, it fits correctly.  I feel like I've been knitting these since I was born.  And that leftover yarn goes to the blanket.  I've just barely started casting on for the second one--this is officially a slog.

Speedwell doesn't care about the sock-yarn or the kilt hose-one.  He just wants to chew on rodents outside.  Speedwell is not authorized to make his own decisions.

 

I also made and felted a couple of bags, though they're not entirely finished.  The first one is just a simple red merino bag.  This bag is going to have a particularly lovely spiral pattern felted onto it, if all goes as planned. 

Yarrow finds it a bit too interesting.  I had a feeling that his wool-thieving was going to rear its ugly head again with all of the Tuatha-supply creation going on.  Well, this is just the beginning, but we'll come back to this particular issue.

This is a good time for me to mention that felting is mercurial.  Never believe anyone who tells you otherwise.  I make felt swatches and keep notes, but sometimes wool gets tricksie.  Like, say, in this Lopi bag.

Looks fine, right?  The math said the body would look like that.  And it said the handles would shrink to a certain size.  You know what?

Wool just told Math to shut its pie-hole and stop trying to boss Wool around.  See the cat in the background?  That should give you a sense of scale.  Speedwell is a relatively large cat, and that's a relatively large bag, and those straps are out of freaking control.   According to my swatches, the straps should have shrunken to 40% of their original length.  Nope.  The straps are about 7 inches shorter than they were unfelted, but they are thoroughly felted.  And wonky. Good thing I'm not afraid to get tough with the wool.  These are getting the big snip, and some rehabilitative needle-felting.  And then some additional water torture.

And while I'm getting tough with the wool, I'll also need to get tough with the Yarrow.  I tossed the bags onto the table and went into the other room to do some laundry, and guess what I found.

I caught him wool-mouthed.  Can you see the evidence?

Drop the innocent act, buster.  I know what you were doing, and I know you'll do it again. 

Embraced

Thank you all for being so kind to the greater Hokie community and to the friends and families of the victims.  I know my worry and sorrow was minuscule compared to what those who saw the shootings or lost loved ones experienced.  We can't undo what happened on Monday, but we can try to comfort and care for those who were harmed, and we can better prepare ourselves to intercede if we come across someone on the brink of collapse.   

I was reminded this week, again and again, how wonderful my friends are.  I regularly wonder how I ended up knowing people who are so kind and dedicated to peace and community . . . I hope I deserve you all. 

Purlewe sent me more blanket food.  I think I got this package on Tuesday or Wednesday, and it was wonderful to focus on something bright and soft and warm.  Making the blanket has been particularly fun because my friends have been so generous with their sock-yarn leftovers. I'm playing with yarns and colors my own stash never hands over.  My own love of mud and loam forgets all about the blossoms I'm trying to nurture. 

It's all daffodils and tulips and croci, with one strong steel trowel to tend them. 

And then I got another package yesterday afternoon, this time from Rachel.  I had an inkling this was coming, but I was gobsmacked.  When I opened it I found blanket food and . . . .

Fantastically beautiful lace socks.

Sooooo prettttttyyyyyyyyy.  No one has ever made me socks before, of course.  I turned insta-sappy, because it's in my contract.  And then I rushed to change clothes and try them on.  They fit very nicely.  And they match, well, everything in our house.   

Wearing these is like having a dear friend's arm around my shoulder.  But for my feet.  I keep taking them off, going outside to garden, and then coming in and scrubbing my feet so I can put the socks back on.  I think that may be the recipe for a perfect spring weekend.

A moment of peace

Remember: Ross Alameddine, Jamie Bishop, Brian Bluhm, Ryan Clark, Austin Cloyd, Jocelyne Couture-Nowak, Kevin Granata, Matt Gwaltney, Caitlin Hammaren, Jeremy Herbstritt, Rachael Hill, Emily Hilscher, Matthew La Porte, Jarrett Lane, Henry Lee, Liviu Librescu, G.V. Loganathan, Partahi Mamora Halomoan Lumbantoruan, Lauren McCain, Daniel O'Neil, Juan Ramon Ortiz, Minal Panchal, Daniel Perez Cueva, Erin Peterson, Michael Pohle, Julia Pryde, Mary Read, Reema Samaha, Waleed Shaalan, Leslie G. Sherman, Maxine Turner, and Nicole Regina White.

Give: http://www.vt.edu/tragedy/memorial_fund.php

Mute

I intended to write Monday about my neice Talia's wonderful birthday party, and about some things I made, and about how strange our weather has been.  But I was struck dumb.

A monster, who was supposed to be a person, slaughtered innocent, kind, brilliant people in my old home town.  So I was struck dumb. 

I still haven't heard from a few old friends of mine who work at Virginia Tech as faculty and staff, but I also haven't seen their names appear on any of those heart-breaking lists, so I'm hoping that my old buddies are doing as well as can be expected, and that they got together to play tunes last night at Gillie's, and that some of the Hoorahs were there.

Nikki Giovanni, with whom I studied as a 17 year old poet, said what needed to be said. (http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/04/17/vtech.victims/index.html scroll down, and click on  Watch Giovanni stir the crowd with a cry of 'we will prevail' )

Wave and shell

Have I mentioned that secrets are not my forte?  Yeah, they're not.  When I buy Scott a cool present, I immediately come home and say "I bought you the coolest present" over and over again until he flees the room.  I am impatient, and I put my impatience on other people's shoulders.  This time, though, I managed to wait out my impatience until the gift got where it was going.

I made this for my mother-in-law Karen.  It's the Wave and Shell Shawl  (clicky for free pattern) made in Mountain Colors Mountain Goat, in the colorway Thunderhead.  I used US size nine needles and just shy of two skeins of yarn. 

This is a really fun pattern.  It's a variation of feather and fan, as you can tell, and a section of the repeat is done in modified stockinette, to form those shells and show off the coloration in handpainted yarns.  Loverly.

The blanket is also a lot bigger now, as you can tell. 

And felting is happening, in preparation for Maryland Sheep and Wool and Tuatha's demands for felt.  Rather inventive felting.  With spirals.  And free dog-hair accents.

Into the West

Into the West directed by Mike Newell and written by Jim Sheridan

This is the movie about travellers I do recommend.  It's a kids' film, in theory, but it's a well-written, evocative, entertaining film.  Few American kids' movies will go to the lengths it does, with a drunken widowed father, impoverished, uppity kids, and a grandfather who encourages nomadism over settled life.  The cast is great, the kids in the lead rolls do very well, and the Irish heavyweight actors do what they do.  Watch it.  It will cheer you up.

Unless

Unless by Carol Shields

Shields is one of my favorite authors, and a rather influential Austen scholar as well.  Originally from from Oak Park, IL (like some of my favorite people), she chose Canada for her home after spending some time in Scotland.  I was burning through Shields' novels a while back, but decided to slow down after she died.  I want to savor her writing, rather than gulping it down.

Unless was her last novel, and it tracks the mysterious breakdown of a young woman who suddenly leaves university, abandons her boyfriend and home, breaks ties with her family, and chooses to sit on a Toronto corner with a sign around her neck that says "Goodness."  The novel comes to us in the voice of the girl's mother, who is bewildered by her daughter's disassociation. 

I don't want to say much more about the plot of the book, except that things do eventually turn out ok, that the plot of the book is timely, and that Shields was incredibly talented, sensitive, insightful writer.  I really wish she had been able to give us another few books.

A clue

Quite literally: a clue.

There's the end of the yarn from the secret knitting. 

Also, this has been happening:

Kilt hose in the offing.  I'm using Trekking XXL in a blue and teal colorway, which isn't showing well in the gloom today.  I've just designed the pattern as I work.  It tapers to hug the ankle and then expands out again for the heel--my hope is that these will be great for winter hikes--long, warm, and well-fitted to cut down on blisters and such.  They'd better be--I could make three pairs of socks in the amount of time this is taking.

House of Mirth

House of Mirth by Edith Wharton and House of Mirth directed by Terence Davies

This is where I normally explain that there was some hole in my education, through which some of the great masters slipped.  You know what?  Forget that.  Dear reader, I openly admit that I haven't read everything yet.  Hence, you know, the still reading. 

Anyway, the novel follows Lily Bart, a New York socialite who is increasingly distressed because she's unmarried and has limited financial resources.  Lily is essentially bratty and conniving at the opening of the novel, but witty and resourceful as well.  As the story progresses, Lily sabotages a few of her better marriage prospects because she has unintentionally fallen for a man who has to work as a lawyer, and thus lacks the means to support her in the style to which she has become accustomed.  She makes some bad choices, loses the support of her wealthy benefactress aunt, spirals into the working class, and dies.  Of course she does.  Wharton knew what a tough spot a poor gentlewoman of her era was stuck in.    The book is well-written, engaging, heart-breaking, and intensely modern.  Not that many novelists in the period were writing lead women who were, in many ways, unlikeable.

The film lost some of the bite of the novel.  I like Gillian Anderson too much to buy her as the real Lily.  In the same way that the Fanny Price in the recent film adaptation of Mansfield Park was too strong and funny to be the same character in the novel, this Lily is too good to be the Lily from the novel.  The screenwriter did Lily some favors, which allowed Anderson to do Lily some more favors, and the main character in the film actually gets to be more of a heroine.  The film is also a bit too slow--many period films revel in the hard work done by set dressers and costumers a bit too much, sacrificing pacing for good, clear pans through the beauty.  There's a bit too much of that in the film.  And Anderson's Lily is a bit too indiscreet--the Lily of the novel, for all of her naughtiness, was not making out with guys on benches outside parties.  She mad mistakes, but she didn't knowingly sink her reputation in that particular way.