Archives for November 2008

 

 First, I give you the Gretel Hat.

I loved making it — it's super fast and very fun. But it is big, yes. A little too big, although I kind of find myself liking it this way, with the front of the brim rolled up a bit. I made the medium fit (I think it's all one size, if I remember, with close fit, regular fit, and slouchy fit. I went with regular).

I used handspun from the stash. It also works worn the regular way, but it makes me feel kinda rasta, which is not the way I feel inside, you know?

 

Forgive the dark photos – it was nighttime and I never remember to photograph it during the day.

 

Yes, I look a little startled. Not sure why. Probably a cat or two climbing up my leg.

Overall, very fun pattern. Omit that crazy cast-on and just use long-tail: it will STILL be loose enough to put on, trust me.

BONUS REVIEW SECTION:

My sisters and I went to see MILK yesterday. Let me be the first to admit, I had NO idea what it would be like to see this movie at the Castro theatre. In my head, I was vaguely annoyed that we had to cross the bridge to see it, that it was only playing at one theatre in town (open in general release this Friday, I believe).

But Christy really wanted to see it this weekend, and she and I were extras in the Big Speech scene, so we agreed.

It was amazing. I loved the movie itself and started to cry at the beginning and didn't really fully stop until the end. It kind of felt like election night that way.

And seeing the movie, which is set in the Castro, seeing the old marquee of the very theatre I was sitting in up on the screen was incredible. Truly incredible. And I was a moron not to realize that the ONLY place anyone should see this movie, if they're on the Western seaboard, is at the Castro.

(The girl sitting next to me didn't seem to know the story at all.  If you don't know the story, go see this movie. And if you do, go see this movie. It was great. Worth the hype, I think.)

ETA: No, we didn't see ourselves up on the screen, but I think I will be able to, when we buy the movie and freezeframe it….

Because sometimes I lose my damn mind, I made a new store:

Chickens are the new knitting.

Urban? Hip? Chickens! 

(More at the store, clothing, a clock, and a MUG! I'm so getting the mug. And the tote. All proceeds go toward our Coop-Raising efforts.)

Chickens are the new knitting.

There. I wanted to say it first.

Really. The knitbloggers, so quick to take up spinning as the new knitting, are now moving to chicken-farming. Soon we will all have miniature sheep and cashmere goats and fresh cheese and we will all be so happy! (No communal living, though. Thanks anyway. I draw the line there. We'll meet at the bar instead to talk about our chickens over yarn and beer.)

No, we don't have any chickens. Not yet.

Lala has been pushing for chickens for a while now. At first, I thought she was just plain crazy. We had chickens when I was a kid, and I remember them as nasty, smelly creatures. We were paid a penny a snail to pick them from the gardens and pitch them out of the bucket to the chickens. Have you ever tried to throw snails out of a bucket? They stick.

Unpleasant memories there.

So everytime she's brought up the idea of chickens, I've said either NO WAY IN HELL or if you get chickens, you're on your own, buddy.

Which is why I'm astonished to find that I want chickens.

Suddenly. Out of the blue. I would like three chickens. I would like eggs. I have no interest in eating a pet chicken, not because I couldn't (although that's a distinct possibility) but because I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I couldn't kill one. It's hypocrisy, yes. But there it is. Novella Carpenter is able to kill her own poultry, and she's rad and is a fellow Oaklander. (If you haven't read her classic on urban turkey-killing in Salon, you must read it here.) But not for me. No.

But chickens! In a nice little hutch, with a nice-sized enclosed run, which could be moved around the yard to help with both fertilization and weed control? Totally free-range during the hours we're home to keep an on both them and the garden, free-range outside in their wire pen when we're not? Under the trees? Eggs?

And they're so pretty.

But money is an issue. Chickens are dirt cheap, maybe four bucks each. But the housing is where it gets you. We could build a chicken coop, yes. I've done some (okay, a LOT) of research already on them, and there are some great plans out there. But after the cost of lumber and tools (we really have no tools to speak of), it would cost the same as other options. The Eglu iMac house for chooks is DIVINE, but comes to more than $800 with shipping (ouch!). We ain't got that kind of scratch.

We have already dogeared our copy of Murray McMurray. Loving Backyardchickens.com. And Gwen has promised us a tour sometime of her coop.

Any clever ideas? Anyone with a chicken coop they want to offload? Anyone with stories? Mmmm?

Lala brought something home from work for me yesterday.

A blanket. Made for me by readers who love me. Started for me when Mom died.

It's one of the most perfect, gorgeous presents I've ever received. I am completely undone by it. (Look, above, see how (formerly) no-blog Rachel and Dani made identical trees of life? They're on either side of Lyssa's heart, which is below Celia's winged hearts, which is flanked by Jove's stripes. Wait. Let me take a minute. I just really looked at Celia's. It's four hearts, with the winged one above. Dad, me and my sisters each have a heart below. That just broke my heart in the good way.)

 

I could go on and on, but my fingers would break, looking up the linkages. Trust me that there are stripes, and hearts, and a turtle, and Digit's paws. There is a lovely square Michelle made on the first anniversary of her mother's death. There is lace inspired by something I made once, and five squares, one for each of Mom's family, knit in my small hometown by someone I've never met.

Darling, talented Krista of KnitDelaware was the drive behind this. I can't imagine the hours she put into sewing these all together, and she did a gorgeous job. I love the black — nothing else would have tied all these squares together.

Please don't feel badly if you didn't know about this blanket. I think what put me over the edge last night as I touched every square was how many people's names I didn't recognize right off the bat. They weren't all the usual suspects. Krista just emailed a random sampling of commenters, asking if they'd like to contribute, and she said the envelopes came flying in. This was amazing to me. And so many of them came with cards, and notes, little descriptions of which square was whose (which wasn't necessary: Krista did such a lovely job with the square map she sent along with it, but I love the descriptions sent — colors, yarn samples, sketches, reasons why the knitter chose the yarn she did).

It is one of my most prized possessions. It will be years before a cat will be allowed to settle on it. If ever. One tried, earlier. No way. Miss Idaho eyed it covetously. No. It is on my reading chair in my writing room, and I draped it over my lap this morning as I wrote.

I have never touched anything that was made with more love. I am verklempt.