March 2005

I cleaned out the fridge.

And there was much rejoicing.

Since I took that picture, the sock is almost finished, which means I am almost half way, right? Cause then I have to make another. *grump*
I have made socks before, ohyesIhave, but I have forever and for always been singled out and oppressed by double pointed needles. DPN’s have conspired and colluded to make me miserable, to feel like a failure and to put those unsightly ladders down the length of my knitting. These ladders of course, do not appear in three places (where two needles come together) like you’d think. Oh no. It is *always* like this: one needle-join: perfect. The second: a wee bit of a ladder if you look for it. The third: A huge and obvious ladder running from top to bottom. Why? If I can make one perfect join, why can’t I make three? WHY? All I’m doing in knitting around and around and around. So no matter what I do, how I tug, or don’t, shift stitches and pray, the dpns continue to make a mockery of me. They HATE me.

But but BUT!! omg…
See that book? SEE IT?!
I love that book. If that book were a man, I’d marry it. Hell, this is Canada – I might marry it anyway! Yay!

I have that book because it has a pattern in it that I’m using for a knit-along (where everyone in a group knits the same or similar things at the same time). I bought it only for that pattern, but it has changed everything. Everything.
I once read a book (which I highly recommend) called “Relativity for Right-Brained Thinkers”. Elizabeth Zimmermann’s Knitters’ Almanac could be called “Knitting for the Left-Brained Thinker”.. and for me, knitting all happens in the left brain. It is all about loops through loops, counting and pattern repeats. She makes it all so sensible and breaks pattern design into percentages. At one point, almost in conversation, she points out that it really makes more sense to knit on FIVE dpns rather than four.
Of course it does. Duh. But why hadn’t I thought of that? Because I had never used a pattern that gave instructions to use five? sadly, it is probably something that stupid.
So I head off to my LYS in search of a set of five dpns and got a set of Brittany 3.5s To make a long story short, yeah, I’m gonna marry those too.
Lessons learned:
- 5dpns GOOD; 4dpns BAD
- wooden needles compared to metal is like the difference between sleeping under a down comforter or under a plastic tarp – an entirely different experience.

Of course, I broke one of my beloved and betrothed Brittany 3.5s the other day. *sob* No matter, I’m going to use the grocery money today to buy another set.
They mean that much to me.
I’m sure my family will understand.

On Saturday evening, I mentioned to Jordan that I hoped I’d have time to clean up the family room before I went to bed, for I feared it was so messy and dusty that the Easter Bunny wouldn’t want to leave food in it. hehehh ;) He jumped up, “Can I help?! Can I help?!” Why honey! Of course you can help! lol. In no time, he had the whole room picked up, dusted and swept.
And as soon as I took that photo and had a look at it, I went and got the picture that belongs on the wall there and actually hung it. We only moved in two years ago, yanno :P

That Easter Bunny, he’s one crazy dude.
I snuck in for a peek before Jordan got to all the egg hunting and this is what I found.. On one side of the fireplace, a very happy chocolate flower is being courted by chocolate bees in golden coats and a chocolate butterfly resplendent in her foil coat-of-many-colours. On the mantle, there was a parade of chocolate ladybugs in shiney jackets led by a smiling chocolate snail.
Sometimes I wonder about that rabbit.

As with every other Easter when she has resided with us, the Flower Fairy holds a big egg in her basket. Jordan always goes to her first. This year, she was also hiding a white chocolate bunny which greatly pleased Jordan. I don’t think I’ve ever known a kid who liked white chocolate as much as he does.

And… like most Canadians who are so desperate for Winter to end, we’ll eat crappy, imported flavourless “spring” food in an attempt to make ourselves believe that, just because it is Easter, Spring must be close-by.

This, while passable since it is March, was not nearly as good as it looked… and it looked uh, funky. The strawberries were flavouress, stringy and a strange pink colour. No one is more grateful than I am for the wealth of out-of-season and impossible-to-grow-locally produce that is imported to this country (just *try* to be a local-food only vegetarian here… ), so I’m not going to knock a California strawberry, but… I have been to California and eaten fresh strawberries and they are nothing compared to the sweet sinful goodness that is a southern Ontario strawberry. The season here is short, but there is a year’s worth of flavour in that crop. So, while I wait for the local strawberry season, I’ll be grateful for the funky imported berries I can get.

I’m colouring eggs today. These are my eggs from last year. My destructions are here.

The cool thing about colouring eggs this way is that it makes your house smell amazing and like there is some serious cooking going on. The not-so-cool thing is that your family smells all this goodness and actually expect to be fed! *snort*

It is gorgeous today! Sunny, blue skies, fluffly clouds and warm. I have been obsessively poking at the alleged shoots of greeny-goodness in my herb garden (which is also my front yard – can’t accuse me of thinking entirely inside the box! Well, maybe you could if you were pointing out my very Taurean trait of getting a crazy idea in my head and refusing to let it go ;P ).
I am certain there are shoots out there. I am also certain that those shoots are tired of me poking around, squealing with obscene delight at my first glimpse of them, and of the pressure my expectations must put on them.
I know what you are thinking… Expectations? You have expectations [read italics as quotey fingers] of your plants?!
I know this, yet I am not fooled by your eye-rolling and strange looks, because I know you do it too. Or at least you would, if you lived in a place where winter has the potential to exist in at least 6 months of every year.
Under these desperate conditions, you have no choice really, but to put a lot of meaning into each tiny white-green shoot, because each tiny shoot is another tiny bit of proof that Spring will indeed arrive. Eventually. Of course, here, in southern Ontario, Spring might arrive suddenly one March afternoon, be replaced by Winter again before dinner has been eaten, and then not be seen again until mid-April. At that point, Spring is likely to stick around in all its fresh-air glory for oh, four days, max, and then it is Summer.
So… eggs on the stove, herbs poked and prodded, and of course, it is time to get my vegetable seeds in. hmmm… I hope the Easter Bunny brings potting soil.

I’ve been trying to incorporate Jordan’s new-found love of knitting into our regular homeschool schedule.
Wait… did I say “schedule”?!

Now that I’ve stopped laughing, let me rephrase that, I’ve been tryng to fit Jordan’s new-found love of knitting in our day a few days a week.

Much better ;D

Typically, we pull the wing back chairs up to the fireplace and knit and talk. Well, Jordan talks; I’ve definitely met my match in that department. :P

Last week, Jordan finished his first project, a gift for Mackenzie.

Pretty awesome, non? I think Kenzie liked it too, because as soon as she got it, she put it on, totally NOT surprised that Jordan had made it all-by-himself and left it on all evening.

Jordan looks forward to Stitch N Bitch time and has “cast on” to make a big bag to hold his knitting stuff. So far, he is still using the rings, but has big plans for when he moves to the needles. :P

There is a problem though. A BIG problem. This:

No, not the cat. I love that cat. That’s Sasquatch, so named because all the extra toes he has give him big feet. He is my head warmer when I sleep, my chirping, drooling-when-he-purrs companion, my familiar. He is also a wee bit of a princess, but I can overlook that cause he is so cute about it.
The problem is that now I have a partner in crime when it comes to cleaning out my LYS. The pile of yarn in that picture is the result of less than 15 minutes in the yarn shop. *gulp*
At one point, Jordan was standing amidst the baskets and shelves of yarn, arms full of skeins of Lamb’s Pride chunky, grinning and saying, “No wonder you buy so much yarn, Mom! This is great! I love knitting! And now that I understand it, I don’t blame you for buying so much yarn! We should get more of this stuff, right? I mean, who can blame us, it’s for knitting!!

No good can come of this. None.
But I’m willing to ride it out in the meantime ;)

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