Knitting in the Shadows

Renewed Love Affair - with Interchangeables

I've fallen in love all over again.

And no, I'm not going to wax eloquent over a particular brand of needles, though I am loving these points.  It's the interchangeability that I'm loving; and what that interchangeability brings with it:  extra cables.

Why all this cable love, you might ask?  And what got me here?

Well, I'm workig on a sweater design that involves lots and lots of "work to this point, put these stitches on a holder, and pick up...."  Right this very minute, I've got sleeve sitches on a "holder" until later; and I've got front pieces on a "holder" until later; and in a few more rows.... I'll have MORE front pieces to go on a "holder" until later. 

But I'm not using stitch holders. I'm not even using waste yarn.

I'm using the spare cables from my lovely interchangeable needles.  This meant that, when I got there and it was time to pause on those stitches, I didn't have to slip all those stitches onto a holder or a piece of waste yarn.  I just took the needle tips off, and put stoppers on the ends of the cable.  And better still, when I return to those sections, I won't have to slip all those stitches onto a needle (the smallest number of them being about 86 stitches).  All I'll have to do is move the needle tips over to those cables!  Does this not rock?

Alas, once again, I'm working on a design that might get to be submitted somewhere, so no pics. (Okay, I will try to get a pic that shows all the cables without revealing the sweater itself).

Social Commentary via Plagiarized Post

This post is rampant plagiarism.  I've only a vague idea where the original came from (and no confidence whatsoever that that idea has any basis in reality).  But I just "needed" to share it.  I plucked from an email list I enjoy.

 

An Obituary printed in the London Times - Interesting and sadly rather true

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:

- Knowing when to come in out of the rain;
- Why the early bird gets the worm;
- Life isn't always fair;
- and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned, but overbearing, regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.

It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents, Truth and Trust, by his wife, Discretion, by his daughter, Responsibility, and by his son, Reason.

He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, I Want It Now,  Someone Else Is To Blame, and I'm A Victim

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

Random Thoughts

Today, my dear Zara finally found a place on my chair that lets her sit with me without interfering with my knitting or laptop computing...

I actually hope this is the start of a trend.

Meanwhile I get to celebrate the generosity of others again.  Last fall we switched financial advisors.  My new advisor is also the advisor to an alpaca farmer. He sent me a box.....

full of yummy alpaca yarn!

It also had this in it:

Luscious soft bulky alpaca.  This one creates a challenge for me.  I've never knit anything with bulky yarn.  I don't quite know what I want to do with this particular 200 yards of softness.  Lots of folks seem to like working this up into scarves, but ... well, I don't WEAR scarves.  I want something ELSE to do with it.

And the othe stuff -- I've just got to work out a scarf or hat for my advisor out of some of it.  'Cause you know, gentlemen do wear scarves.  And it's unusually cold down there in North Carolina.

This totally offsets this:

What's up with these darned crochet hooks?  Why are they bending and breaking like this???

sigh.

 

Just a fly by... to share some snow

I've got not much to say -- been working like crazy on Bookworm's stocking.

Was tickled last night by the first ever GOOD robocall:  our school district robo-called us to tell us that school would be closed today.  Finally, a good reason to use that technology.

Meanwhile, elsewehere in the world, people are doing awsome things with snow.  Go look.

This one is my favorite...

 

Me again, dabbling in politics

Some folks at Pixar put out a wonderful addition to the Trevor project.  It made me cry.  It's full of hope and support for the LGBT youth who are suffering through bullying behaviors at school (and college, and work....).

 

It's yet another wonderful message to those who are feeling picked on.

But -- as this newspaper report shows, people arent' just being bullied for being gay.  Bullying is far too prevalent in our schools.  It's just harder for gay students, because fewer people seem to be ready to stand up for them. 

And because they spend so much of their time worrying about who knows, and who doesn't, and who is going to "do something about it" -- and not in a good way.

A long lost high school buddy of mine posted this on Facebook today.

Reteaching Gender and Sexuality from Sid Jordan on Vimeo.

As they say -- this isn't just about bullying.... it's about curricula, and assumptions and simply the way we interact with each other.

Among the excellent remarks in this video are those that point out that those who "come out" don't do it just once.  They have to do it over and over and over again.  They do it daily, really, until everyone they've met or will meet knows.

Think about that. EVERY DAY they have to identify themselves as being "different" or "other" or ... "not like you."  And every day they have to hear that what they are isn't "normal" even when no one is specifically saying anything about their sexuality.

It's in what we "assume" about each other.

It's in the literature we're assigned to read in school (starting in kindergarten).

It's in the history we teach.

It's in health class.

It's points out that we have a CULTURE of don't ask don't tell.  How wrong is that?  How can it be okay teach our kids that they should not tell us who they are?   How can it be okay to raise them in ways that tell them every day that they're not okay?

Sigh.

And although it very much applies to the LGBT people in our society (people who cannot simply be pigeonholed into a bunch of letters), it also applies to all sorts of people in our society:

It applies to  non-Christians in much of America (oh sure, Jews are okay, sort of... but... well, the CHRISTIAN holidays are the "real" ones right?)

It applies to non-whites

It applies to non-native English speakers (even if they are white Christians heterosexuals)

And still, it applise to women - even the straight, Christian, native English speakers.

Yes, it can and will get better.  But these folks are working on more than just reducing bullying behavior... they're working on helping us accept that all sorts of flowers make a garden. I hope they come to YOUR town soon.

 I'm just a human being who believes with all my heart that we all deserve to be treated with dignity, and accepted, and respected, for who we are -- until our own behavior harms others in a way that warrants the removal of that respect.  I sure wish more people acted that way.

 

Some kids are more awesome than others...

Every mom thinks that her kid(s) is/are awesome.  And every kid is... in some way or another, awesome.

But some kids show up their awesomeness in ways that make a difference.  This video (well, I think there are actually several versions of it) is careening around the web right now... and I think it's important enough to push it a little farther.  It was making the rounds last week, and I've delayed posting this, partially because I seem to have had so very much to say last week, but also because I'm hoping that reminders over time will keep us active.  Last week's news gets forgotten.

So anyway... here is a remarkable young man.

 

When I saw the video, I didn't really know the full background...and just in case you haven't heard the whole story -- here's what inspired that inspiring speech.

During a class about freedom of speech, there was a bit of a "discussion" that led to at least one student proclaiming - and not gently - that they do not accept homosexuality.  The news coverage is ... inconsistent on this point, but one source reports that the student said that he didn't "believe in" homosexuality because it's agains this religion.  Other reports seemed to imply that the student remarks went beyond the bounds of saying "I don't beleive that it's okay" to saying that it's bad enough to warrant doing things to eliminate it.  Either way, the teacher asked the student(s) to leave his classroom.

Now -- as I read the stories, I begin to wonder if the teacher's behavior leading up to the big incident was appropriate -- he evidently asked a girl wearing a Confederate flag belt buckle to remove her belt after which another student asked why the girl had to take off her Confederate flag if gays could fly their rainbow flag.  I'm not sure I agree with requiring the girl to take off the Confederate flag, but he may have been making a point that has not been discussed in the papers.

Either way, the school board followed by disciplining the teacher for ejecting the students espousing anti-gay positions, and suspended him without pay for a day.  It has also directed the teacher to follow seven directives, which include ceasing from engaging in the promotion of his personal social issues and ceasing from engaging in the baiting of students over controversial issues.*  Now, I agree that a teacher should not use the classroom to promote his personal social issues -- BUT, there is a fine line between "baiting" and "encouraging active discussion" in a classroom setting, and controversial issues do warrant such discussion, even in high school classrooms.

But the brave and amazing thing was that 14 year old boy's willingness to stand up, be out, and speak in his support.  I love what he says.... and I hate that any child has experienced the degree of bullying that lead this boy to a suicide attempt at nine years old.

*according to the Livingston Daily.

dogs.... and cat

Our dog is not up to this.

Our cat, however, will move out of the flower pots when you catch her napping in them.

The dogs are much more fun -- watch.

Things that take a long time --- but are worth it....

Once again, I'm stealing from Kat. 

But as she says, this is SO worth the time to watch!

I give you this, because I don't have much to show for the past several days.  I've returned my attention to Kitty's sweater.  After the debacle in which I managed to knit one front side longer than the other, and then not catch it until after I sewed the shoulder seams and picked up the sleeves and knit them entire.....

I've now taken the sleeves back off, and undone those seams, and re-knit the fronts (twice) until they're right.  Now that the shoulder seems are correctly done, I've restarted on the hood.  The hood was where I found out what I'd done wrong with the fronts.   Well.... at least I know that I've done the fronts right this time.  But.... now it seems I've been knitting and knitting and knitting on the hood and though I'm sure I've been knitting for like two feet worth of yarn, I still have several inches to go before I get to start decreasing.

If only I'd had this then...

Some of you have been reading long enough to recall my stories about teaching writing classes to upper level undergraduate students.  I was always fuming at their complete lack of grammar skills.  I continue to be flabbergasted that I had class after class of people, allegedly mere months away from being ready to go forth into the world as professionals, who did not know the difference between and adverb and an adjective, much less how to use them appropriately.

I despaired.

I assigned basic grammar homework.

If only this had been available for me at the time:

This lovely bit was created by one of my old office mates -- she too despaired, but she's found something that the kids might even pay attention to!

Disturbing things in the News

Sometimes, I despair at the insidious behaviors of people who are allegedly interested in the good of others. Today, that despair is trumping my desire to show you pretty pictures of lace in progress.  Even though this is a knitting blog, sometimes, threats to our civil rights become more important. (Okay, I'm likely to come back later with knitting stuff, but this morning... I have to spread this word).

Evidently, in California, there is a case pending before the Federal Court of Appeals for the 9th Circuit wherein someone has made the following "legal" argument:

" [C]ertain “traditional” faiths are first tier faiths and that those faiths were meant to have equal rights and  protections under the United States Constitution, but that all of the other faiths were second tier faiths, and were not meant to have the same equal rights and protections under the United States Constitution as the first tier faiths.”

This case in which a chaplain of a minority faith is seeking to require the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation should hire a paid chaplain for members of his faith (he now serves as an unpaid statewide correctional chaplain) since they hire paid chaplains for five other "major" faiths (Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, and Native American). The case is before the 9th Circuit because a California District Court ruled that since his faith (and thus that of the prisoners to whom he ministers) is not one of the "first tier" faiths, and thus is not entitled to equal rights and protections, the chaplain doesn't even have standing to sue (and though it's not said yet, the prisoners aren't entitled to see chaplains in their faith).

Regardless of what your faith is, it should alarm you that a Federal Court is even considering the question of whether one faith gets the protections of the Constitution while another faith does not.  The constitution does not say anything about which faiths it protects.  Nor does it say that some faiths are excluded from protection.  It's not Jews this time, but this reminds me eerily of the way Jews went from slightly different citizens to endangered and hunted to massacred in Hitler's Germany.  Can this really be happening in America? 

If you're interested in more information, you can go to places like these:

The site featuring all of the amicus breifs

Patrick M. McCollum; et al., v. California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation; et al.

Defendants Concede That They Made Misrepresentations About The Application Of Any Criteria

Blog Post outlining more of the details (with many links)

Great Story on Physics

I have totally stolen this post. Really.. clicked, copied, pasted.  I stole it from  here (FuckYeahPhysics). I stole it because I want you to read it enough that I don't want to risk you not clicking...  It's a truly excellent story (don't know if it's true, but it contains great bit of wisdom. )

Story Time

physicsphysics:

The following concerns a question in a physics degree exam at the University of Copenhagen: Describe how to determine the height of a skyscraper with a barometer.

One student replied: You tie a long piece of string to the neck of the barometer, then lower the barometer from the roof of the skyscraper to the ground. The length of the string plus the length of the barometer will equal the height of the building.

This highly original answer so incensed the examiner that the student was failed immediately. He appealed on the grounds that his answer was indisputably correct, and the university appointed an independent arbiter to decide the case. The arbiter judged that the answer was indeed correct, but did not display any noticeable knowledge of physics. To resolve the problem, it was decided to call the student in and allow him six minutes in which to provide a verbal answer which showed at least a minimal familiarity with the basic principles of physics. For five minutes the student sat in silence, forehead creased in thought. The arbiter reminded him that time was running out, to which the student replied that he had several extremely relevant answers, but couldn’t make up his mind which to use. On being advised to hurry up the student replied as follows:

Firstly, you could take the barometer up to the roof of the skyscraper, drop it over the edge, and measure the time it takes to reach the ground. The height of the building can then be worked out from the formula H =0.5g x t squared. But bad luck on the barometer.

Or if the sun is shining you could measure the height of the barometer, then set it on end and measure the length of its shadow. Then you measure the length of the skyscraper’s shadow, and thereafter it is a simple matter of proportional arithmetic to work out the height of the skyscraper.

But if you wanted to be highly scientific about it, you could tie a short piece of string to the barometer and swing it like a pendulum, first at ground level and then on the roof of the skyscraper. The height is worked out by the difference in the gravitational restoring force T = 2 pi square root (l / g).

Or if the skyscraper has an outside emergency staircase, it would be easier to walk up it and mark off the height of the skyscraper in barometer lengths, then add them up.

If you merely wanted to be boring and orthodox about it, of course, you could use the barometer to measure the air pressure on the roof of the skyscraper and on the ground, and convert the difference in millibars into feet to give the height of the building.

But since we are constantly being exhorted to exercise independence of mind and apply scientific methods, undoubtedly the best way would be to knock on the janitor’s door and say to him “If you would like a nice new barometer, I will give you this one if you tell me the height of this skyscraper”.

The student was Niels Bohr, the only Dane to win the Nobel prize for Physics.

Whether or not this story is actually true, it is a great story for why there is not always one right way to do something in science and and we shouldn’t limit our knowledge an understanding of science to just what we’re told.

That applies to life too.  Oh yeah, and knitting...

Thanks Whichy! (she sent me there)

Divine Music where you don't expect it.

I'm stealing from Jessie...

but this is so amazing to me that I can't not pass it on.  Here is an accordion player (far too young to be this good, but that's a different issue).  It's what he's playing -- Bach -- stunningly well.  If you close your eyes, you'd swear this Bach piece was being played on a pipe organ!.

If it's a lie, I don't want to know.

Scatter shot

Welcome to random blogging.  There is no rhyme or reason to why you get what you get here today....

Among the too many things I do, is serve on the board of a local not-for-profit organization that offers Rape Crisis Counseling services.  We also work to change the attitudes in our little corner of the world so that the concept of rape for EVERYONE shifts from being "probably a bad idea" to "something that no human would consider doing because it's unquestionably wrong" and so that even rape humor is considered vile.

Creating that attitude shift is hard.  I know it's what we're aiming for, but I often feel at a complete loss as to how to do it. 

One of the ways folks do it is to write posts like this one (on Schrödinger’s Rapist).  It's eye opening, and written with wit, not a sledge hammer.  Sure wish this was required reading for all the boys in high school!

So anyway, I promised to return this to your regularly scheduled knitting blog.  So.... allow me to show you some knitting:

 

You will note that I have closed off the top of the pockets.    (And yes, I do recall that I've promised a tutorial on working those pockets as we go -- I'll be doing that soon: it's on my List).

Boy howdy does that make the rows go faster.

And, since I'm pleased with it... here's a close up of the wolf...

 

I've been working steadily on that List.  I now carry around a wee 3x5 spiral notebook, and write down all those thoughts about things I'd like to do, buy, read, consider giving for a Holiday Gift, knit etc.  Then, as I do them, I merrily draw a line through it.

 

Sadly, every page looks a lot like this.  Lots of things on each page, a few lines drawn through each page.  There are currently 9 pages.  But, there are lots of lines drawn, which I consider to be a good thing.

Finally, two of the cutest things I can find in my house:

Zara... she loves to sleep with her head pushed up against something.

 

Gabriel.

There... now my blog looks more like a regular knitting blog, doesn't it?  It's got cat pictures!

Fall is lovely

Not much to show on the knitting front.  I'm being abnormally monogamous with Nurse Potter's shawl.  I'd show you, but frankly, two repeats looks a lot like one, only bigger.

However, I have been really enjoying the color show that fall is putting on around her. I saw a tree today that was the most delightful colorway -- russets, golds, greens, several shades of each.  And less than a block away -- a series of trees that shaded most delightfully from a sunny yellow, through gold, into green.

I have to stop driving for a few days though, because I'm too busy ogling the trees to do it safely.

Even my own back yard is putting on the ritz a little.

I've taken many pictures of my pond in spring.  A few in the summer, and even one or two in the winter all covered with snow.  I've never taken any fall shots.  My goodness what I've been missing!

And today... there's golden leaves on that weeping cherry.  But there's also rain, into which I don't really want to take my camera.

Saturdays ... a little awe, a little food, a little fun... a little knitting

Saturdays are for....

being amazed

Check out this spider web!  It's on the driver's side mirror  of The Divine Though Blogless Elizabeth's car.  It's been there for days.  Really!  DAYS! (Well, either that or the spider keeps building it over and over again -- but still, this is what it looked like after she drove the almost two miles between our houses, and then the additional couple of miles to our first destination of the day!  Yesterday, the spider was there too.

I sure wish MY lace would stand up to that sort of abuse.

Saturday is also for ignoring the rules.  We went out to lunch ... here

where, despite the lovely al fresco dining opportunities, we went inside to enjoy the air conditioning.

This was a good choice. We were treated to one of the new waiters.  Meet Thomas: 

Thomas is a good waiter.  My favorite kind.  He chats just enough so that you learn things like ... he also has great taste in movies, totally understands our sense of humor, and flatters his customers just enough, and never too much.  But, he doesn't hover or make you wonder when he's going to go away already so you can finish your conversation.  He takes your order in a way that it at least seems as though whatever you ordered was perfectly reasonable. He didn't even blink when this was all we packaged up to take home with us.

what?  you don't take order multiple desserts at lunch? (I finished the mousse, or there might have been three boxes).  On Saturdays, it's just not reasonable to ask us to choose between awesome mousse, Chocolate Love Cake and a Brownie TRIO!  Thomas understood this. 

We like Thomas.

Saturdays are also for being a little awed by the bizarre.

(So, which is more bizarre?  That this is how the toilet paper looked in this restaurant's bathroom, or that I took its picture.)  But seriosuly, why are there three rolls on top of the rolls on the rollers?  Why are all three of the rolls that AREN'T on the rollers 4/5 gone?  Why doesn't anyone use the ones on the rollers (well, perhaps because getting at them is so challenging).

Saturday afternoons are for going to the movies.  We saw Julie & Julia, and I for one enjoyed it thoroughly.  It almost made me dash out to buy Mastering the Art of French Cooking (after all, French IS my favorite cuisine).  It also made me wonder whether I was being a "good enough" blogger.  How does one define that?  Does my blog need a plan?  A goal?  A big long project that I will take you all through step by step? (Yes, longer than knitting up some simple (or complex) sweater or shawl ... a multi-stop project).  Ought I pick out some year long thing to do?

It would likely take me a year to decide on the thing to do for a year.

Instead, I came home to take pictures of my knitting.

Here is the Must Have Cardigan, back on the needles.  I've almost finished the back (again).

 

I think about another half inch or so, and then I'll tuck in a little short-row shoulder shaping.

Chrysopolis is still in time out.  But photographing her at least identified the problem for me.

 

I can see things in this picture that, somehow, I couldn't see without the camera.  Looking at it here, though, the problem is obvious.  How I missed it is beyond me.   At least that means it'll be relatively easy to fix.  Looks like I only have to drop down by about seven rows. I can do that!

Tomorrow -- new socks on the needles (and some nifty tips for dpn users).

What do you do when it's just too Hot

Today has been one of those days.

It was beastly hot.

We've had this lovely pleasant not-quite-summer weather for so long that I've forgotten how to handle real mid-western summer weather. So once warned that this weekend means a return to 90+ degrees with a heavy dose of humidity ... I nixed any outdoor plans.

First, we slept late.

Then I caught up on all my Lexulous and Wordscraper games on Facebook, and read blogs and chased quizzes and learned that I might just be able to kill a man if it came down to it:

My result for The Can You Kill a Man? Test...

Maybe I could...

I scored 20% Cold and 46% Level-Headed!

In a pinch, I could do it, but I'd need a damn good reason to. And I'm not going to be too happy afterward.

Take The Can You Kill a Man? Test at HelloQuizzy

I think this is actually a pretty accurate answer. 
Eventually, though, I had to venture out of the house.  So I took the girls, and Kitty's bike, to a local Bike Project establishment.  Bike Projects are very cool things.  They're all over.  In Austin, in Baltimore, in Bloomington,in Ghana, in Lansing, in New Orleans, in Reno, in Urbana,in Wilmington, in ... (you get the picture... just Google Bike Project and your town name; if there's not one in town, go for the state, you're sure to find one).  Our goals for this trip were several: 

1. Find out how Kitty can join up to learn how to repair bikes (they have this project for kids under 15, where by the kid learns, repairs a bike for the Project, and then gets to repair a donated bike for his or her own and keeps it!);
2. Repair Kitty's bike, and determine whether or not she'd outgrown it (she hadn't, yay);
3. Get a basket of sorts put on the bike so that she can carry the clarinet to and from school;
4. Get a helmet for Kitty, so she can ride her bike to and from school;
5. Get a light of some sort on the bike in case "from school" becomes "in the dark";
6. Miraculously find a bike that fits me so I can replace the bike that was destroyed when GolfPro tried to help me clean out the garage a few years ago.

And... we accomplished them all!  We still need a really truly headlight for Kitty's bike, but we got the rest covered (including BRIGHT blinky lights for front and rear), and I'll be getting her a horn (likely one of these) before school starts, but her bike is ready to go, basket and all.  Turns out if she joins up, someone will help her learn...but they're still working on the best way to go about it.

As for my bike? 

Isn't it lovely?  Note the lovely drink bottle holder?  And, though you can't see it in this shot, a nice rack on the back .... see...

Yes, the seat is a tad torn up.  I'm likely to have at it with duct tape.  I might even go shopping for a new one.  But... since NEW bikes are hard to find for under $400.00 these days, I'm feeling pretty darned smug about this one.  Our whole bill, "new" (i.e. repaired donated) bike, basket, blinkie lights, helmet and all, was $115.00.  And the repair work?  Caitlin did most of it herself, with guidance, and thus we paid nothing but learned something. 

Life is good.

That was enough of the hot outdoors though, so we've come home, and I've been reading blogs etc. and found a new-to-me but delightful blog .... with a contest!

I did try to get pictures of Natalia, since she's clean and dry and everything.  But she's shy today.  We have to wait until the sun is in a different place in the sky I guess.

More from YouTube -- because I can't not share

Uh oh.

This guy says a lot of really good things. 
I may be sharing him in a sort of daily dose if I'm not careful.  But this one... is really worth it.

I'll wait.

But that's pretty serious stuff.  Really.  We should think about it.  After which, we'll need a good laugh -- and if this one doesn't have you rolling on the floor... well... I'm sorry.

News and Wisdom

Knitting news:  small things. 
1)  I've finished the gift.  It's in the queue for photography and mailing.
2)  I'm about to start the heel flap on DH's sock.  I'm debating other structures.
3)  I've finally passed the half-way point on Chrysopolis.  I'm thrilled to say that I have not passed the halfway point in the yarn.

Kid news: 
1) J spent a dizzy free day yesterday!!!!  :-D

2) She's still having trouble concentrating and focusing  :-(

3)  C has declared me Supermom -- I did the field trip thing again yesterday and helped to escort the 8th grade science class to a local Prairie park to let them see prairie grasses and plants and animals -- and hear prairie sounds (hahahahah, like they ever shut up to listen).  After berating me for "making them" continue to walk around after they'd already finished all their worksheet answers, she declared me supermom for being able to read a map and directl them safely back to the meeting place.  When I said I wasn't so sure about supermom --- but I'd take competent mom, she said that all the other moms were "incompetent mom" and couldn't have done what I did.  I chose not to disabuse her of the notion that I'm better than other moms.  I'm pretty sure that the days of being supermom in her eyes are dwindling.

4)  I learned from the day's adventure.   Although I'm still signed up (and paying) for chaperoning the Band Trip to Disney world (which you can support if you want to... by going to qsp.com, and buying stuff from school number -- supporting either code POP1 or POP2),  I think I'll refrain from helping out on the 8th grade trip to Six Flags over St. Louis in the spring.  I do NOT enjoy the battle of wills with 8th grade boys who need to test their boundaries.

House news: 
1) The new dampers and thermostats are in!  We now do not have to heat or cool the second floor in order to get the first floor comfy.  Similarly, we can now heat or cool the second floor without heating or cooling the first floor.  We hope that this will both reduce our heating costs AND improve the likelihood that any given room will be at a comfortable temperature.

2)  I actually prepped the door for painting today.  When it's dry, I'll finish that chore.

General Stuff.

This guy has done what is partially a humor bit... and partially a wisdom bit.  It could have come straight from my brain, except that I'd have been talking about college kids, not 8th graders.

Damn he's good. (Thanks Rich!  I'm really glad you shared this one with me!)

The Story of Stuff (oh, and Holiday Knitting)

lickAs I sat here fussing about the fact that I haven't found "enough" presents for J for the Holiday Gift Giving Frenzy, I was directed to this website:  Story Of Stuff

It's a short movie (okay, it's 20 minutes, but it's worth watching.  Really) about the processes through which all the stuff we buy goes -- and points out scary things like - for every garbage bin you put out of trash, the manufacturers of the stuff that you're trashing have put out at least 7 (not counting, of course, the toxins they put in the air or water).  It explains that we don't actually pay for the stuff we buy when we put down money -- and where those costs are actually being imposed. It also noted that, in America at least, some enormous percentage of the stuff we buy leaves our homes as trash within six months (like 90%?).

Serious food for thought.

With luck, and hope, serious food to help change happen.

I'm pleased that despite the many ways that my family does engage in this Consumer Season, we don't add to the trash/land-fill with wrapping paper.

I'm a bit embarrassed that we order so much stuff on-line (increasing the cost (both in dollars and in environmental impact) of getting it to us).  This time, even the yarn I'm using was ordered on-line (but not after spending literally hours in the LYSs trying to find yarn I'd like as well for the purposes).

I'm pleased to report that not that much of what comes into this house does go back out as trash within six months unless it's used up (pens, for example).  Well, except for C's clothes, which don't go out as trash, but which are all but guaranteed to be too small within three months.  I hear tell that kids do stop growing eventually.....

Today, we continued the spending frenzy locally, with buying local: we drove a couple miles out to our local tree farm, looked at dozens of perfect trees, finally settled on "the" tree (which I contend isn't really as nice as the very first one we saw, but the rest of the family is content), cut the tree down, hauled it back to the main house, had it's dead needles (and a bird's nest!) shaken out of it, tied it to the roof of our car, drove it home, and installed it in the living room.

I've lit the tree,

and managed to knit my way through most of a pair of Knuck's for my dad.

I have about a foot of the green yarn left.  Had I any more, I'd have done one last row and then bound off in the green.... ah well.

Standing Stones and Making Mittens

If you haven't seen this.... pop right over and take a look.  I'll wait.

This guy in Michigan may have figured out how StoneHenge was erected!
Standing the Stones

On other fronts... I've been charting like mad.  I've also been knitting.

Mittens, as luck would have it.  Aren't you surprised?

No.

I'd guess not.

I've got Mum's mittens finished but for the thumbs,

I tried winging it, but it was clear I'd need a thumb chart... so I spent the morning charting.  Sure, I started with the thumb, but then had to align it with the body, so I charted that...and since that meant I'd done most of it, well.... I charted the cuff too.  But I did get a nice thumb chart done.

See... that's love --

I also love Knit Visualizer, but man it takes me forever to chart that way.

Yesterday, when I hit the point of no return on Mum's mittens, having kitchenered the second tip but not yet having charted the thumb, I started in on Jessi's mitts.

These thought they were going to be the Compass Mitts from Favorite Mittens. No. Really.  That's what they thought.  But first I just had to make a braid... and then the corrugated rib, which decided it wanted to play swapsies a few times.  But they really will start looking like compass mittens.  I promise....any minute now.  But first... I have to chart the thumb.

Haven't we already seen this movie?

The upshot of all this charting is that I'm behind in mitten knitting AND haven't worked a stitch on Mermaid -- tomorrow's post will have to come late in the day!

It's all on the Video

And now...
The world's fastest sheep shearer....

Thus marks my first attempt at embedding a video. 

I thought a lightening fast sheep shearing would be more fun than watching Eunny knit, or even watching  the world's fastest knitter who may or may not have also been at the German Knitting Championships of 2007

Browsing for those links, I came upon one for the Portuguese knitting style, which I will have to try, if only to say I have done it.

Today had me erranding and such.  Tomorrow should allow time for updates and real blog posts.

Midwest Snow Storm Fails to Engender Massive Knitting Progress

I had this really nifty post that I wrote this afternoon. But ... then I had this really annoying connection failure with Type Pad. It went bye bye. So, I'm trying again. And to break the jinx, I'm adding a bit of silly quizzness, just for fun.

Which famous feline are you?

You're Hobbes. First of all, the makers of this quiz would like to congratulate you. You have our seal of approval. You are kind, intelligent, loving, and good-humoredly practical. You're proud of who you are. At the same time, you're tolerant of those who lack your clearsightedness. You're always playful, but never annoying. For these traits, you are well-loved, and with good cause.
Take this quiz!

Quizilla | Join | Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code

And that's what they say about that. I'm not always as tolerant of others as Hobbes would indicate, but I'll try.  I like being Hobbes.  Hobbes is smart.  Hobbes can have fun anywhere..
Even in snow-- Hobbes enjoys the snow.
I enjoy it in a much more theoretical way than Hobbes does. 

When it comes to the reality, I find it... less fun.
Perhaps its because it caused me to spend not two days (the standard) of lots of together-time with my darling daughters... not three days (which we expected this past weekend)... not even four... but FIVE days during which I was not out of earshot of one or both of my children for more than about twenty minutes.

I mean, I do love my kids.  Really I do... but I'm used to having some mental time away from them.  I actually miss work.

(shudder -- who am I?)

Not that this week hasn't yielded some progress on the great Quest to Replace the Dying Caravan. I mean, I DID drag J around to car dealerships on Monday (when she had one of those random days off school).  We drove the Hyundai minivan ... which I liked until I tested what would happen if I had to stop suddenly while driving 45 miles an hour.

You can't stop suddenly in a Hyundai minivan.  Visions of those deer bounding signs leap to mind.

Just in case that was a fluke, I drove the Kia ... Hyundai's twin.  Guess what.  No fluke.  You can't stop suddenly in that one either.

Rats.  They could theoretically have saved me upwards of $10,000.00 if I have to get a new new car (instead of finding a nice 1 to 2 year old one).

So we tried the Toyota.  Nice in many respects.  Good brakes too. Deranged placement of the gear shift.
And bad cup holders.
Bad cup holders, however, seems to be the theme.  Everyone's got 'em.

Then we went over to Honda where we found this:

OMG!  It's the Pregnant Rollerskate!  I remember this car! I rode in this car!  Dixon! it's your car!!!

Ahem.  Once we got over the first generation Civic on the wall, we visited the Honda Odyssey, and took it for a spin in the gloaming.  Similar deranged gearshift placement.  A lot like the Toyota, but with some minor differences that I liked.

I have one minivan thing left to drive:  The Nissan Quest.

I would have gotten that done sometime in the past couple of days but... well...
there was this snow...
Lots of snow.

With lots of drifts... Note the bridge here... it goes OVER my pond...

Note how the snow on one side comes up to the rail...
yeah.
snow.
So on Tuesday, we didn't go anywhere.
I shoveled out the drive way.  It was up to my knees... but I dug out a path wide enough for a car to escape through.  That was at about 11:00.  I guess I thought someone would be around eventually to plow the street.
By 1:00 you couldn't tell I'd ever walked on the driveway, much less dug out a path.
No plows..
So Wednesday... surely we can get out Wednesday...
we shoveled again.  Only this time, we got to go through a serious drift that had formed in the center of our driveway.  At least three feet deep.
But of course, when we were done....

The street still looked like this:

Note the tire tracks?  One of our neighbors has a big-ass four-wheel drive thing.  It got out.
We did not.
I did get to ponder the weirdness of wind. Some places were drifted deeply, others you could still see the grass!
 
Of course the wind never does that in areas that we want to walk or drive through.  Those get drifts... or at least fully stacked snow.

You'd think with all this snowage... and the resulting me trapped in my house, I'd be posting FO shots of things like, well... Icarus.

You'd think.

But ya see, Monday night when I was knitting the row before the penultimate row, I wasn't focusing as well as I might have been.  So I missed a few yo4's.  More than a few.  About 8 I'd guess.  In the first third of the row too.
So, Tuesday afternoon, when I was knitting along merrily on the penultimate row, I discovered the error.  Now, I know that you can sneak in a missed yo here and there.
but a yo4?  that's harder.
And 8 of them>
not so much.
So last night, I tinked and dripped beads back out, and tinked...

Tonight I reknit that row.  I double checked those yo4's repeatedly.  I'm fairly confident they're all there.  I started on the penultimate row, but decided to leave it for the waiting room tomorrow morning.
Assuming, of course, that I actually do escape my house to morrow.

I mean, the plow DID come late this afternoon.  But the winds could pick back up and ... well..
Not counting any chickens, or rows, or anything with this many hours for the wind gods to undo them.

 

Weekend Roundup

I have several different topics on my mind today... and I suppose I could do a series of posts (and if this gets too out of control,  I likely will), but I'd rather do a sort of scatter-shot approach and see what we come up with.

The Good:

1.  The Divine Miss Elizabeth the Blogless has finished Swallowtail.  I'd like to think that this is her picture of herself prostrate before me in gratitude for all of my help, but a more realistic view is probably that this was the best way she could come up with to get a decent shot of the shawl:

Here's a close up of the lace, all blocked and pretty

The Annoying:

2. My lace shawl is suffering from user errors galore. 

First, there was the putting beads in on the wrong stitch ... that meant that for the next row, I' had to knit to the bead stitch, carefully remove the bead, manipulate myself to the right stitch, and put the bead on there.  This was a planning error, and I'm glad I moved them, but it was a PITA.  Just goes to show ya:  plotting the beads on the chart is all very well and good, but NOTHING beats an advance swatch for correct placement.  I did not swatch... I paid the price.  I almost took the time to photograph it for you, but was too lazy (and was sort of hoping I'd finish fast enough that I wouldn't have to admit it).

Then, there was the putting the beads in the wrong row. Fixing that involved knitting to the stitch, removing the bead, dropping the stitch a row or two, replacing the bead, and picking the stitch back up.   This was also a planning error, but one I kind of knew would work out the way it did.  Again with the laziness, no pics.

Even with that foolishness, Icarus would have been on the blocking bed right now.  Would have been, but for stupid extra yo's not discovered until four rows later when just dropping them would have left horrible messy blobs.  Trust me, I tried. 

Instead, last night's "knitting" involved tinking back those four rows (including a bead row).

But, hey the beads that are in place are looking quite nice if I do say so myself:

I think Icarus mishaps are just one more sign of the times.  Things are trying very hard to fall apart around here.

The Sad:

3.  C's hamster died Friday night.  Patsu was too young to die.  When we got Patsu (after Buttons died) we'd gone out and carefully chosen a YOUNG hamster so that she'd have him for a year or more.  Buttons, the previous hamster, was well and truly and adult when she came to live with us, so her dying after a shortish time was readily attributable to old age.  We've no clue what happened to poor Patsu.  He seemed happy and healthy and energetic. ... and was undoubtedly less than a year old.

C is mourning, and has declared that there will be no more hamsters.  She wants a longer lived pet.  She pondered a bird.  I'm grateful that such pondering was brief, and that it was her choice not to get one.  Between the bird vocalizing, the the current feline residents in the house responding, I'd have gone nuts.  Now, she's talking cats.  We have two already.  DH is allergic... this may not work.

The Bad

4. The car is dead, long live the car. 

Okay, that's an exaggeration.  But the Caravan is on it's last legs with us.  She's given us 104,000 of her 111,000 miles, toured the North-Eastern states six times, and hauled us all the way to ski country in the West, but she's tiring.  Her transmission is starting to slip here and there, and while it's possible that simply flushing it would fix that (~$200.00), it's also possible that doing so would make things worse, and we'd have to get a new transmission (so expensive I don't even want to know).

More disturbing is that her strut plates are bad.  Okay, I say, how much can it cost to fix that?  And didn't we just do that a year ago?  Evidently, we did that 15 months ago, so the warranty is done.  And as for the cost, well, ordinarily, three hundred dollars or so (say, 1/2 a weekend retreat with BlueMoon Fiber Arts, about which I'm telling you only because I know I can't afford to go, so I'm not risking losing my place by spreading the word).

But that would be ordinarily.  In our case, we seem to have a rust problem.  Evidently, the place into which one secures a strut plate is rusting badly in our car.  It is, I think, the only place in our car that is rusting, but it's significant because they fear that if they remove the bad strut plates, the structure from which it would be removed may ... well... crumble apart.  In other words, it's entirely possible that my bad strut plates are what's holding that part together.  And on that part, rests the whole front end of the car.

Fine, I cringe... how much would it cost to replace that part?  oh, about $3000.00 in body work.... plus the strut plates of course.

erk

Time for a new car. (or at least new to us)

I started car shopping.  I can get a year old Caravan for a decent price.  But my car guy says don't buy another Caravan.  Tomorrow I will call him to ask for details on WHY not to buy another Caravan. I mean that would be simple.... but my life seems not to be about simple

The Temptation

So... we wandered into the Saturn dealer... tested a gently used Relay.  I wasn't impressed, really, but it was okay.  Then we tried a gently used Passat Wagon under the theory that we could get buy w/o the larger car.  It was okay.  Onward to a used Vue. 
Nahh.

Then I yielded to temptation and drove a brand spanking new Outlook.  I'm trying very hard not to like this car.  Really.  I am trying.

What is an Outlook, you ask?  It's a nifty sort of cross between an SUV and a minivan... and it is bit bigger than we need, but it has all these cool features -- like a second moon roof over the back seats (the girls LOVED that).  I'm sure the rest of the cool toys can be found on all sorts of other cars -- like the powered rear hatch opener, and the heated windshield washer fluid, and the jack to play my iPod through the stereo -- but they're new to me, since I've avoided dealerships successfully for eight years.  The rear seats are comfortable, even for grown ups.  Even the rear bench works for adult seating.

I'm having car lust.  Monday, I will try to get to drive a nice, moderately priced 2006 Caravan with 20,000 miles on it.  I will try to persuade my car lusting self that it will be wonderful and we don't need the Outlook, even if it does come in this amazing deep midnight blue with heated seats (seat back too mind you, not just the buns, and separately controlled), or that there are headphone jacks for the kids in the back...

I will remind myself that the cup holders in the drivers zone are not very versatile, and won't hold the coffee cup that usually winds up in the car with me.

I will not recall the fun things like the fact that you can check your tire pressure (on each tire) from the drivers seat.  OR the fact that it knows how long til you need to change your oil.  Or that it has dual heating zones for driver and passenger AND a heating zone for the back seat (that they can control so they don't whine at me all the time)

BREATHE..

There is, of course, The Ugly.  But I'm not ready to blog about the Ugly yet.  And with any luck at all,  Thursday's tests will prove that the Ugly isn't ugly after all, and I can write a humorous bit about The Relief instead.

Instead, we'll return to nice "safe" knitting, and the .

I Told You So: or Hubris comes back to bite me

So I'm sneaking in these wrist warmers to match the ear warmer that my daughter made.  I used up the second ball we bought in case she needed it, and feeling as though I had plenty to spare, I excised the yucky brown that did not really go with the lovely purples and reds in the rest of the color bands. (Evidently, Patons used a tip from Noro's dyeing handbook for these.  I HATE that extra stripe of a "contrasting" color they always put in.  It's jarring  -- and I always think those colors are just UGLY -- until I get them gathered away from their original yarn, and look at them alone .... they're always fine, just not in combination with the yarn they were dyed with).  Anyway, I finished up my ball, and then glommed onto the remainders of C's ball.  I was sure that would be enough for a pair of wrist warmers.  Really. 

But alas, no.  Excising the ugly bits left both mitts here:

About two inches short on the fingers... and well, with this for a thumb:

Yep, just stitches being held. There's not enough yarn left to bind off even.  And both mitts are right there.  (And no, I'm not frogging back to a stopping place to bind off, cause then they'll be way too short).
sigh....
What am I going to do with the rest of the ball I just bought to finish these "leftovers" mitts?  Perhaps I'll just cave and make full bore mittens instead of fingerless mitts.... or gloves?  Or pop-up paws?

 

In Which Very Little Skiing Happens

Sometimes, vacations are great for blogs.
Sometimes, like when you discover that the Internet is available if only you'll spend some obscene sum of money every day you want access, they're not.

For the past five days, I was off on one of the second kinds of vacations.  Worse yet, I hardly took any pictures! (yes, there will be  a few).

Packing knitting (you DO pack knitting first, don't you?) was hard.  I'm so close to being done with the main body knitting on Thistle that I really wanted to take her along. 

But she is rather large.... and there was no way I could persuade myself that I was taking her to finish and wear on the trip... so she had to stay home.

Then again, the  Day of Obligatory Gift Giving is almost upon us, and I have a grand-niece for whom something must be made ... by the 23rd.  As of Wednesday, as I was racing around the house trying to choose the knitting, I had not only not started the something... I'd not figured out what it would be.  Finally, common sense whacked me upside the head, and I found more of the yarn I'd once knitted a wee sweater for her brother (when he was a wee babe) in, and grabbed the Wonderful Wallaby pattern and some needles.  More on that in a bit.

Icarus came along, and over the course of the trip, I managed to knit up all the yarn I'd frogged....

The bamboo socks traveled to California with us, but lurked in their wee sack for the whole trip.  Poor socks.  I really must take them out for some quality time.

So... where did we go with all this knitting?  Squaw Valley, where the original plan included three days of serious skiing.  I was counting on that skiing to be three days of vigorous exercise to get to work on the second ten pounds in my weight loss program.  More on that too...

Highlights of the trip:
FOOD!  oh my, were those restaurants GOOD!

The girls got their first ever snow board lessons.  They loved them.

Lowlights of the trip:
No where near enough snow, leading to there being only ONE run open in the whole ski resort (at least the trip to the top was in a gondola), and that one was under-snowed and icy.
Ice and flat light combined to cause me to catch the edge of my ski in a wholly inappropriate way, which in turn led to a fall that was almost certainly amusing to watch, but which left my knee more than a little bit unhappy. 

And now: the saga.
Day One - Wednesday...  a work day, a school day.
We came home from work and school to finish packing, find the yarn, load the car, round up all the library books that were going to be due while we were gone, etc.  We didn't get on the road til about 7:00 p.m.   We arrived safely in Chicagoland, where we stayed in a reasonable hotel that was perfectly okay with us leaving our car in the lot for the weekend AT NO CHARGE!

Day Two - Thursday
We roust ourselves, call a cab to take us to the airport, don the heavy snow boots that don't fit into the suitcases, and thus have to be worn on the plane, drag our lazy butts across the parking lot for Jamba Juice breakfasts (yummmmm!), and meet the cab at the car, which we unload.  The trip to the airport is uneventful and much faster than anticipated.

We "enjoy" the trip through security, during which (for those of you who've been smart enough to avoid flying lately) you get to take off your shoes (note, the heavy snow boots, each of which takes its own little plastic bin to cruise through the xray machine), your coat, any sweaters, vests, belts, hats, etc, and empty your pockets.  You also have to yield up any liquids -- like that bottle of water.  Time was all you had to do was drink from it, but no more.  Now, you must throw it away completely.  This, of course, is so that the vendors on the other side of security can charge you twice as much for a bottle to replace it with, which you are then allowed to take on the plane.

I note that no one blinks at the three circular knitting needles, or the ten double pointed needles that are in my carry on luggage.  No way I could hurt anyone with one of those...particularly not that long one...  but that bottle of water was clearly hazardous.  Whatever.

Now we're early.  We settle in to read or knit and wait.  Then our gate is changed, because the plane at the one we're supposed to go out of is .... defective somehow, and they can't get it out of the way so our plane can get in.   We gather our stuff and troop down the hall.

DH and I take turns going on walks, taking trips to the rest room, and riding herd on the kids. Then, it's my turn to sit, and DH is heading toward the bathroom with all the boarding passes.  Suddenly, our group is called, we're supposed to board.  I put down the knitting and race after him...
well.. almost

a bit of yarn has hooked itself onto my iPod, and I trail yards and yards of it after me.  As I gathered it up on the way back to the girls, one fellow passenger said he thought it was a tether to keep me tied to the kids. If said kids were older, we might have had a picture. I managed to gather it up into something from which I'd later wind a wee ball that I eventually had to knit for about three inches of Wallaby to get through, and we board the plane, which....
..
takes off on time!
The flight is long and smooth and allows me to make prodigious headway on the Obligatory Wallaby.  Inevitably, it is attacked by a few cables, but only subtly (unlike the last one I made).  Over the next several days, I will knit to here:

I am nearing the end of the pouch when we land in Reno.

OMG
You don't need to walk more than about ten yards from the plane to get to the first slot machine!  It's insane! YUCK.  Reno is surrounded by gorgeous scenery -- but there are those evil noisy one-armed bandits everywhere!  They're in the freaking DRUG STORE!

Now, I'll freely admit that I tend to think that gambling is just stupid.  Unless you're prepared to lose (spend?) all the money you use to do it, you should just stay away. And wasting time chucking money into slot machines is only marginally fun.  I did it once, in 1982.  I played a dime slot machine (in Reno even), and won $10.00 in dimes.  It was okay.  But folks were hanging out in the AIRPORT playing slots, and looking like zombies as they kept pushing the button over and over again.  At least with video games there seems to be some cerebral involvement... somewhere.  shudder.  Color me never moving to Reno.

Driving from Reno to Squaw Valley, however, was lovely.  Not Rockies lovely,but lovely none-the-less....

So the hills are green and lush -- but hey, it's WINTER! hello???  and notice the hill part?  We don't have those around here... they built the only sledding hill around here.  They had to.  Our topographical maps can be drawn in one foot increments (well, except for the sledding hill).  I LIKE hills.... here are some more:

And once we got out of Reno and into the foothills themselves, there were lovely gullies and things to look up into as we drove:

You might notice something about these hills though.  They're brown, mostly.  Not that there's anything wrong with brown, but when the plan is to ski, one tends to prefer white to brown.

Luckily there was some white.  Here's a view from our first window:

See, there's some token snow there.   Here's another view from that window, one that speaks "danger danger" to those who diet:

If you look very closely at that sign over the entrance, you'll see that steps, mere steps from our rental condo place was the dreaded Ben & Jerry's

Now, when we arrived, we made our way to our assigned room and were amazed.  It was lovely, but I wonder how they ever thought four people could stay in that room. It was SMALL!  Okay, two rooms: a bedroom that might have been 2 feet bigger on each side than the king size bed they wedged into it.  There were zero drawers in that room, and no where to put the suit case you certainly had with you.  The other room held a wee kitchenette, a table with four chairs, and a fold out couch with a coffee table in front of it.  I'm not sure what you were supposed to do with the coffee table when you folded out the couch (which we'd clearly informed them we planned to do so that the girls could sleep on it). Perhaps it was supposed to go out on the wee balcony.  I think the balcony was big enough.

So here we are, all but snowless, in a tiny tiny room.  DH decided to call down and ask for better.  The girls and I went prowling around the "village".  We yielded to the call of Ben & Jerry's while DH wrangled us a slightly bigger room.

In what seemed like no time the wonderful bell-person Mike had moved all of our stuff to a new room, and we swiftly settled in.  Now we had drawers in the nightstands beside the king size bed (that had at least 3.5 feet on either side, and 2 feet on the end), and room for not only the coffee table but a fairly decent chair to sit snugged up against the wall when the fold out couch was open.  This building also boasted a "workout center" (containing one treadmill, one recumbent bike, a bench (but no weights), and a sauna that was never on); two outdoor "spas", one of which looked rather like a miniature kidney shaped pool but had a sign declaring its maximum capacity as 8 people; a media room (with a HUGE flat screen TV upon which to watch movies) and a "Kid's Room" with a foosball table.  All of these were accessible using your room key -- but only after 8:00 a.m.  Yep... no working out before 8:00 a.m.  Whatever...

We dined at Fireside Pizza, where I enjoyed salad and a taste of other's pizza.  The food was wonderful.

Day Three - Friday

In the morning, we dressed for the slopes, wished there were more snow, and embarked, pausing briefly at Mountain Nectar for smoothies and eggs for breakfast.  Soon we were all suited up, with rental skis (and boots for the girls), and trudging across perfectly clear sidewalks to the gondola.  It was a lovely, if eerie, ride to the top.  We saw lots and lots of areas with zero snow cover at all.

Odd to see a ski hill's runs when they're naked.

However, soon enough we were at the top of the only run open, and on our way down the icy slopes.  This is what you expect to see when skiing:

But another angle shows some definitely iffy stuff in the background:

Turning away from the designated run, we saw this:

Even so, we had fun skiing ... I skied with J for a while, then with C.  Then I took a run with J... who at 9 is faster than I am on skis.  This is okay, but while trying to chase her down, I took that previously mentioned fall.  I'm amazed it wasn't a yard sale.* I was skiing merrily along -- and then I was lying head down, feet up, on the mountain, and my knee was whining.  J was oblivious.

I nabbed the pole that had tried to escape, hauled myself back up onto my skis, and pursued her again.  Luckily, J realized that I wasn't right behind her, and waited after a bit.  She graciously let us ski down a bit more slowly.

Now, you'd think that a person with two degrees (one of which comes with fancy Latin words after it), would be smart enough to know not to go back UP the mountain to ski it down again when her knee is twingy.  You'd think.

In my case, however, you'd be wrong.

I went up again, and this time I led. So, of course, J fell.  And I pulled to the side of the run to watch to see if she needed help, and found my skis sliding out behind me... angling apart, spreading my legs into what could certainly have been some interesting splits had I not regained control.  My knee was not amused.  I made it down to the bottom, but when we started to walk to take  break and wait for DH and C...

well

let's just say that I'd forgotten what it's like to have something hurt enough that tears spring to your eyes.

I promptly checked in my skis for the day.  DH and C and J had a few more runs to themselves while I took myself to the hot tub.

Dinner, however, almost made me forget my knee.  We wandered .. .well, they wandered, I hobbled, over to PlumpJack's Balboa Cafe where the service was incredible and the food was even better.  Oh MY!  I knew venison could be that good... but the Juniper infused Cabbage was out of this world... and the Carrot Ginger soup.. and .. ahhhhhh..... diet? what diet? whose on a diet?

Day Four - Saturday

The night brought precipitation -- rain at our end, allegedly snow atop the mountain.  It also brought wind.  We collectively decided to give it a rest, let it keep snowing up there, and take a drive down to see Lake Tahoe before contemplating skiing.  Okay, I wasn't contemplating skiing at all.  OUCH.  But the rest of the family was.

We climbed into our little car, and drove around a bit of the North Shore of Lake Tahoe . If you click that link, you can see the very road we drove on -- South on 89 from Squaw to 28, and north up around the tip of the lake.
It looked like this:

.

Then we had lunch, and drove back to register the girls for their first ever Snowboard lessons.  They thoroughly enjoyed that while I thoroughly enjoyed a nap, and a diligent, if weak, round of exercise on the recumbent bike (which miraculously did not hurt my knee).  Once the kids were fetched back, showered, and dressed, we had another go at dining with PlumpJack (who, it turns out is the mayor of San Francisco).  Balboa Cafe was so good, we figured we'd be safe at the PlumpJack Cafe We were right.

ahhh... Starting with a lemon Basil Mojito martini (sounds weird eh? but it was delicious), then an amazing salad with romaine and pomegranate and pine nuts and other good things that wasn't even on the menu, followed by veal, sweetbreads (who knew??) and gnocchi.  Again, I say, diet???  what diet? we don't need no stinking diet.

So.. Day five: Sunday

One of the great advantages to lazy folk who visit Squaw Valley is that NOTHING opens early.  It is not possible to be skiing by 8:00.  The lifts aren't open, the ski rental places aren't open until 8;30... you're lucky the breakfast place is open...

At eight o'clock I put on the ski boots and took an experimental walk up and down the hallway in our building.  I figured that since it was walking in ski boots that made me cry Friday, there was no way I could ski if it still hurt to walk in them on Sunday.  I also foolishly thought that if I could walk happily in ski boots, I could ski.

I could walk, so we wandered over for smoothies.  Slipped in as the doors opened for ski rental, and geared up again.

I barely made it down one run (admittedly, with a delightful layer of fresh powder).  THAT was dumb. 

I had lunch with the family, I returned the skis and poles, and went back for another nap. Bummer .. but I had time to shop for the perfect obligatory ski pins (I've gotten one for each girl for each place they've been skiing), and still had time to get some knitting and reading in, and had a nice bit of alone time (a rare commodity on these trips).

Dinner, was again marvelous ... this time at the Auld Dubliner where they really know how to make Shepard's Pie!

Day Six.. Monday,

It snowed last night.  The mountain now looks like what we want to ski on.  Instead, we load the car and drive back to Reno.  We endure time in the airport with the slot machines, but sneak in a bit of Obligatory Gift shopping.  Again, we remove the boots, coats, vests, and divest ourselves of water etc. to go through security.  They confiscate the toothpaste in the carry-on bag -- the tube is too big. 

We get on the plane.  Once we're all settled, they announce that there is rain in Chicago, so we're going to be delayed because they're increasing the time between planes.  We get periodic updates for an hour and twenty minutes, and finally take off into turbulence.

We land at last.  We get our luggage - again, it's all there!  We haul it out to the cab line, where we wait for a minivan.  Our cabby takes us to our car in the hotel parking lot ... I wonder what we'll find.... The car is still there, unvandalized (despite the I-Pass right there in the window), and best of all, it STARTS!  And as the car starts, so does the rain.

My hero, DH, drives us home in the rain, and we arrive at 12:30 a.m to find the pets all home and happy to see us.  Though we're exhausted, it takes another hour to get to bed.

Day Seven --Tuesday.
We're not chipper when we rise.  But school and work are waiting...

 

*Yard Sale:  fall by a skier that results in poles, skis and even hats, gloves and goggles flying everywhere so that it takes quite some time to gather all the gear back up again.

Lawyers in Urban Legends

Some of you know that my day job is in a law firm.  This means that I hear, and even collect, lawyer jokes.  This one was passed around my office this week, and I just had to share:

BEST LAWYER STORY OF THE YEAR.


Charlotte , North Carolina :

A lawyer purchased a box of very rare and expensive cigars, then insured them against, among other things, fire.

Within a month, having smoked his entire stockpile of these great cigars and without yet having made even his
first premium payment on the policy the lawyer filed a claim against the insurance company.

In his claim, the lawyer stated the cigars were lost "in a series of small fires."

The insurance company refused to pay, citing the obvious reason, that the man had consumed the cigars
in the normal fashion.

The lawyer sued.. and WON!

(Stay with me.)

Delivering the ruling, the judge agreed with the insurance company that the claim was frivolous. The
judge stated nevertheless, that the lawyer held  a policy from the company, which it had warranted that
the cigars were insurable and also guaranteed that it would insure them against fire, without defining what
is considered to be "unacceptable fire" and was obligated to pay the claim.

Rather than endure lengthy and costly appeal process, the insurance company accepted the ruling and paid
$15,000 to the lawyer for his loss of the cigars lost in the "fires". 

NOW FOR THE BEST PART..

After the lawyer cashed the check, the insurance company had him arrested on 24 counts of ARSON!!!

With his own insurance claim and testimony from the previous case being used against him, the lawyer was
convicted of intentionally burning his insured property and was sentenced to 24 months in jail and a
$24,000 fine.

This is a true story and was the First Place winner in the recent Criminal Lawyers Award Contest.

.....

Okay, it's NOT  a true story. It's so much not a true story, and has been around so long (early 60's at least) that Brad Paisley did a song about it.  Snopes will tell you all about that. 

Besides, even if the lawyer did pull that stunt, they'd never be able to convict him of arson because the finding that the insurance company had to pay would have included a finding that the fires weren't arson....

But I found it amusing enough to inflict it on all of you anyway.