Crazy Lanea

Navigation, perserverence, and, er, Zombie Quarantines

I'm one of those people who knows a lot about global geography but gets lost on the way to her best friend's house, and plans at least an extra hour of travel time for unexpected detours.  Since I go on a fair number of road trips by myself, and since I make an even worse passenger-navigator now than I was before the knitting, I finally broke down and bought a portable navigation system just in time to drive to Massachusetts next weekend for the Knitters Review Retreat. 

The addition of that little puppy makes for a veritable tentacle-fest in my purse or glove box, however, so I thought a lovely little bag for all of the gadgetry would be in order.  I knew I wanted to make it myself out of stuff I already had, that it should be big enough to hold the nav system, my phone and charger, and my ipod and its cords, and possible more electrical nonsense if the need arises, that it should be velcro free (most knitter's things should), and that it should be easy to close and carry.  La.

That's one of the best quilting cottons I've ever found, and I am really surprised I was brave enough to use it on an experimental pattern.  I love the birch leaves and the shadows.  Ahhhh.  The lining is a linen leftover from a previous sewing project, and it's got some good heft to it.  I also put a square of twill inside the base to add some structure to it.

I really like this concept.  Instead of two equally-sized wrist straps, it has a long one, which threads through a short loop.  I also added some leather ties, which I just sewed in place as I joined the lining to the outer fabric. I figure they'll make things less likely to escape, and they also make the bag look more polished when it's closed.

   

And there's my new toy.  She will save me so much heartache and stress. 

The sewing was a nice break from the knitting.  I have a feeling I'm going to make a very similar bag tomorrow to hold my sock knitting.  I love how quickly sewn projects come together.  Particularly since cellulose-based materials are apparently immune to attack from Yarrow the Wool-Destroyer. I decided to dig up some yarn to make a baby surprise jacket to add to the charity knitting pile at the KR Retreat next weekend, but apparently Yarrow had his way with the yarn first.

The blue stuff got the brunt of his wrath.  It's pretty chewed up in many many places.  I'm trying to use it as a stripe here and there, but most of the lengths I'm finding are too sort for a single width of stitches.  Blasted cat.  And as if that weren't bad enough, he hopped into my lap this morning while I was scratching out some plans for my fun new gadget bag and immediately tried to chew on my Irish Twist cardigan right there in my lap, as I was wearing it.   You'd think he'd realize cats can't be punk rockers, no matter how hard they try.

As far as the blanket is concerned, I think my plan will work.  Here's a square with the double i-cord edging.  It's not tacked down yet, because I'm trying not to waste work while I'm waiting for the final yarn to be ready.  I am looking forward to curling up with this blanket this winter, but also pretty concerned for its safety around Yarrow. 

And there's another boring elegant, simple sock in the works.  I'm using Trekking Natura, which I really like so far.

I prefer to avoid synthetics in my yarn, and the bamboo definitely feels nicer in the hand than nylon does.  I'm not sure how they'll react to water.  This yarn seems to be significantly thinner than standard Trekking, but I don't know how much it blooms or how durable it will be.  Regular Trekking isn't the softest stuff to knit with, but it blooms beautifully and wears really well.  I hope the same is true of this.  The sock seems a little limp, though, even on 2mm needles.

Finally, the Yorks's huge fun annual Halloween Party was yesterday, and we had a blast.  Of course.  For once, I made a costume that I thought was witty and that made sense to other people.  Anyone who remembers when I went to a Halloween party as this guy knows what I mean. 

I couldn't get many decent photos, what with the darkness and the crowds, but most of the cast of Firefly was there; as was the Empire State Building, complete with King Kong and Fay Ray; the requisite Star Wars/Trek/meta-Geek costumes; a number of the folks from Harry Potter; Prince Hal/HenryV,

(Chip York, one of our hosts, is a photographer--I'm sure he took a much better picture, but he sure has handy settings around for this kind of stuff). Luckily, we also had protection against zombies.

Can't be too careful, these days.

Hawksbill peak and deepest caverns

We spent a long weekend in and around the Shenandoah national forest.  I'd encourage you to go, but you can't, because my dog apparently laid claim to the entire region.  He was on a serious quest.  He's never been so dedicated to the cycle of canine hydration and evacuation is his living life.

We picked the right cabin, as evidenced by the hot-tub, the ridiculous view of the Shenandoah, displayed through the two-story windows, and the decor.  Cracked paint:

Plus bleached bones:

Plus falling leaves

Equals a happy Lanea.  The knitting fit right in.  I had to fold back a mediocre mini-quilt so the swatch could lay happily on the deteriorating wood. 

The swatch is now a hat, which I alternately love and hate.  More about that later.

We spent early Saturday morning in Luray caverns.  Neither of us had been there since we were kids, and it was too close to miss.  When you go early on a winter morning, you get the caverns to yourself.  We saw Pluto:

 

A.k.a God of the Underworld, as opposed to that Disney character.  The discoverers of the caverns were exploring the place with just candles and mining lanterns, and they kept seeing this formation in the distance--it seemed to be floating and following them, so they decided to name it after the God of the Underworld, who had every right to tail them.   

We saw Mirror Lake

Which is a much better mirror in real life.  The surface is virtually indistinguishable from the cavern roof unless you disturb the water.  It's amazing.  It's spring fed to the right, and has a disappearing edge to the left, which provides just enough circulation to keep the water crystal clear.

We saw a great inspiration for a Strange Hat (for a strange head, of course)

And we saw the piece de resistance: the fried eggs. 

Which are broken stalagmites with an iron-rich core and a calciferous outer edge.  I remember them being much bigger, but they are, in fact, egg-sized.

After the caverns, we picked up Kayo and took him to survey his territory. 

Skyline Drive was the best route.  Both East

 

and West. 

If you ever want to entertain a dog, drive along Skyline Drive and get out at every observation point so the dog can be a dog.  Kayo particularly appreciated Hawksbill Peak.  We're hawk people, you know.

Extra points if you accidentally happen upon a grazing herd of whitetail while looking for a restroom. These are just a couple of them at Big Meadows lodge.

Kayo so wanted to fetch them.

And while you're at it, if you ever want to entertain a Lanea, entertain her dog while allowing her to obsess over lichen, moss, stones, and dead trees, particularly after she's been reading a lot of regional poetry and studying lichen dying.

Bonus points for traveling to an area known for cultivating lichen on trees.

This time, there were no Scarlet Tanagers, but there was enough lichen to distract me from my love/hate relationship with Skyline Drive and the systematic land-clearing required to create it.   Love the park . . . hate the property aquisition  and destruction of local mountain communities.  But love. the. park. 

And now, a little James Still for the folks who've made it to the bitter end. 

White Highways (1937)

I have gone out to the roads that go up and down
In smooth white lines, stoneless and hard;
I have seen distances shortened between two points,
The hills pushed back and bridges thrust across
The shallow river's span.

To the broad highways, and back again I have come
To the creekbed roads and narrow winding trails
Worn into ruts by hoofs and steady feet;
I have come back to the long way around,
The far between, the slow arrival.
Here is my pleasure most where I have lived
And called my home.

O do not wander far
From the rooftree and the hill-gathered earth;
Go not upon these wayfares measured with a line
Drawn hard and white from birth to death.
O quiet and slow is peace, and curved with space
Brought back again to this warm homing place.