Rachael

Such a nice day I’ve had. It’s blustery and cold and rainy, and for some ungodly reason I felt moved to make good on my promise to myself to run once a weekend, outdoors, with Clara. I drove to the San Leandro Marina with her, and then sat in the car in the parking lot while the car shook and the waves were blown splashing up onto the rocks. I watched tree limbs fall. I sat for ten minutes. Then I started the car and left the marina. No way in hell. Then I apologized to a confused Clara and turned around again. I went and parked in the same spot, and then got out and ran.

It was SO COLD AND WET. But I did it, and I was glad that I did because now I can just lounge around, knitting, and brother, do I have knitting to do. And knitting to show you! I never have knitting to show you, not until it’s all done, because I never get around to photographing anything. But today I did. So shall we take a walk through what I’m obsessed with right now? My works in progress:

First,  Jeanie: 

It is REALLY hard to get a good photo of this, but it is a blast to knit. You’re always thinking a little bit, and then you get to drop stitches. It’s like Clapotis on steroids. Keri is a genius. Reversible cables! Come on! Unreal! Lace by doing cables! It’s a dream come true! But lordy, is it slow going. Worth it, though.

Tactile Socks:

My friend Maia and Brooke have a relatively new fiber business called Tactile, and I bought some roving from them a while back. I loved the colors they chose in dyeing this (they use organic, natural dyes):

I split the roving, one half for each sock, and spun a relatively fine, soft single:

To keep the colors together, I Navajo-plied it into a 3-ply. Having never officially been taught how to do this, and having learned the technique online, my technique involves me and my lazy kate in a battle of wills. Usually my hands are flipping somewhere above my head while I treadle frantically. Seriously. There has got to be a better way.

When I plied it, I was only middlin’ pleased. Didn’t know how it would look knit up:

(One can tell I am a crazy kid on the Navajo-plying bike.)

But oh, my gosh, I am so excited about the sock it’s making! It’s working! It’s self-striping!

Isn’t that purdy? I love it. Go say hi and tell ’em I sent you! I think if you email them they’ll hook you up; they’re still setting up the online store.

And moving on, I have no sweater on the needles. That has to change! Makes me nervous. So drawn by the gorgeous DROPS 103-1 (sexy name, isn’t it?) that everyone in blogland is making, I’m going to make one, too. I would like it to fit me like Holy Knitball’s fits her. Ain’t that cute? For Christmas I got from Lala what I always want the most: a gift certificate to Article Pract. One can NEVER go wrong with that gift, I tell you. With that present, I was able to buy ten skeins of this:

And I also bought Son of Stitch and Bitch — what a cute book! I haven’t needed to own any of the others, but there are some awesome patterns in there, esp. the Ernie Sweater.

Okay. I’ve spent too much time here. Now I need to sit on the couch and cast on. Oh, yeah.

I love routines. LOVE them. I can get into a routine in two days. And then I look forward to the next day, when I can do it again. It’s flexible, though. I can fall out of a routine just as quickly.

I have some new routines. Doesn’t everyone? It’s the new year, after all! Even if I don’t make "resolutions," there’s a certain clarity that comes with a new year, a fresh slate. A new blank notebook of a year.

And while it’s only the fifth, I’ve already been to the gym three times! That’s a miracle right there. I’d actually canceled the gym a few months ago, after I hadn’t been in SO LONG that it was completely embarrassing. I felt good about the cancellation. Proud of saving money that would be otherwise wasted.

Then I started wanting to start running again. Runagogo has a Ravelry group! 100 miles by April 1st! I had to start keeping up with runagogo-ers (how great is it that it’s taken on a life of its own?). But with the winter light, and me getting to work long before dawn and leaving after night falls, there was no way I was ever going to be able to run on work days (I won’t run at night, no matter how safe the area feels — did it a couple of times and hated it, even with Clara at my side). And I wanted more than just one run on the weekends. So I signed back up with the gym (they’d frozen my account so I didn’t have to pay joining fees again), and I have a new thing now: I run before work. There is no justifying that level of crazy, except to say that getting up at 4 am really isn’t that much more painful than getting up at 4:40. Seriously. It sucks either way. But three times this week I’ve rolled out of bed at four (or a little before — I always wake up before the alarm — highly annoying), fed the cats, put on my gym clothes, grabbed my work bag, and headed out.

The gym is so different at that time of morning. I go to a really huge 24-Hour Fitness in San Leandro, right on the way to work, and it’s usually packed day and night. I like it because EVERYONE goes there. Men, women, gay, straight, every race, every body size, every age. I love that there will be a twenty-year old guy as big as an Oakland Raider wearing a black tank and black running shorts running on a treadmill, and right next to him will be a ninety-year old teeny-tiny Asian woman wearing a full-on pink polyester pants suit, holding her purse with one hand, the rail with the other. (The little old ladies of every race are the ones I love the best — they always carry their purses with them, and they come in pastel-colored flocks. They perch on the weight machines and chatter and then walk very slowly and carefully on the treadmills, gossiping as they go.)

And always, when I’ve been there before, you have to wait for a machine (because the little ladies are gossiping) and people hover behind you, making sure you don’t go over your 20 minute treadmill time limit. But that early in the morning? No one is there! Just me on the treadmill with maybe one or two others, and three or four guys pumping iron, scattered in various areas of the huge room. No one cares how long I’m on the treadmill. I’m the first one in the shower for the day, so the shower and locker room floors are blessedly dry. No one else has been in the locker room with me at all. No one’s in the pool, although I don’t see myself really using that — I know how to swim, but it seems counter-intuitive to work out in an environment which doesn’t support my breathing lifestyle.

I’m doing the Couch-to-5K program, using the awesome Robert Ullrey’s podcast (free from iTunes). He tells you when to run and when to walk, and the music is just my style: gay-bar disco-rific. Erika, you would like this music. Yes, I could do more than this, yes, I could run farther for longer than the program has you start out (jogging for one minute, walking for 90 seconds), but I haven’t been running in months, so I’m starting out again slowly. No hurry. Just want to get there in the end. You know? And it’s nice to not time yourself, to have someone else doing it for you.

So yep. A couple-three times at the gym during my work week, and one longer run outside with Clara on my weekend. That’s the goal. Nothing big, but it’s something.

Plus, I’m eating so damn healthy right now. I’ve eliminated all sources of soy from my diet* for a couple of weeks, and I’m here to tell you, all good things have soy hidden in them somewhere. Even most gum has soy lecithin. It’s everywhere. I am so bored without chocolate and ice cream (and by that I mean Reeses Peanut Butter Cups and Ben and Jerry’s, not extra-dark chocolate and organic pumpkin frozen dessert). Gah. I kind of feel like if I’m forced to eat like this, I might as well work out.

But I like my new routine. It feels good. (As does the fact that Lala and I made a bet that the other one wouldn’t go a whole month meditating every day. All right, I guess that’s more of a challenge. But I like to call it a bet. And there might be financial gain in the offing, but that might be anti-Buddha to those Buddhist types, so I won’t mention that part. But I like that new routine a lot, too.)

*I forgot my face soap at the gym one morning and used their soap dispenser instead. Turns out it was Dial Facial Wash Soy & Almond (no label on it). My eye blew up. Go figure.

How simple an idea, and how nice to do. Let’s see, what did I do in 2007?

January – Started Runagogo, which got a whole lot of people (was it about 800 by the end? Can’t remember exactly how man) moving 100 miles in 3 months. And I said on January 12th, "I would like to finish writing a book. There. That’s all I’m thinking
this morning." And Lala and godson Dylan matched:

February – Got a travel piece on Venice published in Curve magazine. My writing seen nationally in all major bookstores. WOOT! And I got a ukulele. I can still only play the same seven chords, but they’re doozies, I tell you. Went to Stitches, saw my people. Discovered yams are good things, especially dipped in chipotle aioli (mayo with chipotle powder, salt, garlic and lemon).

March – Taught a knitting class for knit-one-one. Almost got hit by lightning. Finished my 100 running miles and only just. And Lala still had brown hair:

April – Married one year! Great hotel, great time. Hotel with spa-tub. Oh, yeah. I told you what I didn’t want you to know, that Digit was dead and gone since February, and that my heart would never heal. You were wonderful to me. And in his honor, I adopted a kitten from the kill-shelter. Only I accidentally wound up taking two of them home, one of the best spur-of-the-moment decisions I’ve ever made. Willie and Waylon:

May – The freeway here melted! That was something. I got sick as hell with tonsillitis and it stayed. Ran the Bay to Breakers! Naked people everywhere! Run! The square foot garden started giving us things:

June – My friend Bob died. I rode on a freaking motorcycle in the Dyke March, a dream come true. AND MY DIGIT CAME HOME. Came back after walking for four months, literally almost dead. Wouldn’t have lived another day, we think. Didn’t think he’d live another hour after he came in. But from wherever he’d been accidentally transported to (Seattle? Vegas?), he walked home. Went from 17 pounds to 7. Back end wide with wounds. One eye almost gone. But he made it home. My heart lived.

July – My birthday! I already had the best present I could ever want. Held a sweater raffle, and you lovely people paid every cent of his HUGE medical bills, with money left over for Milo and Best Friends. He went from being the Cat of My Heart to the Cat of Our Hearts. I’m happy to share, and he doesn’t mind, either. Also, in other news, Harry Potter came out and my sister’s band, Knockturn Alley, made a huge splash in the Wizard Rock world! And I had my second tonsillectomy in five years. Digit and I recovered together. 

August – Digit and I recovered some more. I Ravelry-d. I typed The End on a novel. And then I entered that first draft in the Borders/Simon&Schuster First Romance contest.

September – Camilla and Kirk got married! I rode my bike. I think I whined more than usual.

October – Was one of five finalists in the romance competition. WOOT! The Whoreshoes played Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, a great coup.  I went to New York! Rhinebeck!

November – I won Nanowrimo for the second time, writing more than 50,000 words during the month. Saw my first Raiders game. Got bangs. Put up a Christmas tree for the very first time as an adult. (Must take that down now.) Digit continued to get better, eat two cans of cat food a day, and still maintain his grumpy disposition.

December – Mellow. Early Xmas with my folks, on-time Xmas with La’s. Found out I am allergic to soy lecithin. Saw SNOW!

So to you and yours, Happy New Year. Here’s to a wonderful 2008. (Man, I keep typing 2009. What’s up with that?)

Good morning, my schmittens. How are you? I’m fine, feeling a little under the weather, but I think that’s due to the THREE Manhattans I had last night. Just two is enough to snocker me, and the third was probably an unwise decision. I don’t feel sick, really, I just feel…. weak. My legs ache. You might know the feeling. Maybe.

But I had such a good time. Lala and I end up having this kind of night quite often (not usually with three Manhattans, thank god), where we make a little dinner (she cooked good pork) and wind up spending the whole night sitting at the dining table, goin’ on about everything and nothing. We moved from the table after dinner and ended up in my yarn room, talking about music, listening to Concrete Blonde, of all things, and I realized yet again that I am so lucky to be with and live with such an amazing person, a person that fascinates me, and challenges me, and believes in me. Yep, we’re both pains in the ass sometimes, but we’re really damn good together.

That is so rad.

It’s been a great year.

Tonight the Whoreshoes play Amnesia with Rube Waddell, and we’ll be bringing 2008 in with style and perhaps a little less alcohol than last night. You should come if you can.

(Also of interest to locals: My friend Kira has a couple of classes coming up — she’s a great teacher and you would enjoy either one, I think: The Cocoon Sweater (baby sweater! So cute!) and Perforated Gloves (I love these). Even if you ain’t local, you should go click and look. Yep.)

Happy New Year, all!

I am in bed, nursing something annoying which I shall tell you about in good time, but first let me say that I had wonderful Christmases. The first one I already told you about, with my family on the coast.

The second one was with my family in Idaho, the in-laws, and IT SNOWED. I don’t think anyone except for Lala’s family knows how crazy I get in snow. It’s so foreign and interesting and cold and soft and fluffy and pretty and new snow does things I don’t expect it to, like NOT BE UNDER PARKED CARS! That’s just weird. And it blows on the road. Rain doesn’t blow like that! It’s so pretty! I love it! It’s my favorite weather! (I bow, of course, to those of you who have so much snow to spare they’d like to shove some my direction. Feel free! Mail it to me, and I’ll play in it!)

I got to wear knitted items, and I wore them with sheer determination. When exiting the car to go to the house, I would put on my hat and mittens and scarf, even though it’s a short walk, and it wasn’t really that cold. But I could, and I did. Because it was SNOWING! And we walked around a lot in it, and I think I might have gotten frostbite. In my cheeks, you know. Or maybe chillblains. Or windchill? Lala is rolling her eyes right now, as are you in the frozen north but HOW FUN!

That is not dandruff, folks.

And Christmas itself was lovely. While the standing rib roast was in the oven, we went to view the Christmas lights in the botanical gardens. Pictures to follow sometime, hopefully. When we got home, Lala and I made potatoes and asparagus and salad, and we ate. Couldn’t have been easier. Then we sat around the table and Tony, my father-in-law, put on stacks of Kingston Trio records and he and mom-Jeannie and I sat singing for hours. Lala listened, and appeared to like it. Excellent, lovely trip. I’m so glad I got to go.

But today, whew. I’m in bed, recovering from some kind of belly-unhappiness attack, and I think I know what it is. I’ve been fighting allergic reactions, mostly the facial lip/eye swelling kind, for a while now, similar to my MSG reactions, and I’ve narrowed it down (pretty easily, in fact) to soy lecithin. Every time I eat chocolate, I swell up. Soy sauce hasn’t been treating me well. Yesterday at work, trying to avoid all the chocolate surrounding me on all the flat surfaces, I was proud of myself for having only a sugar cookie and some wheat thins. Then the roof of my mouth started to itch, and my belly started to hurt badly. I read labels — both the cookie and the wheat thins had soy lecithin. WHY do they have soy lecithin? So annoying. The tummy upset got bad, and I’m still felled by it, so spending some time prone today. I’ll catch up on blog-reading, that’s a good thing.

I am certainly making an appointment with an allergist. Another one. But a question for you geniuses: Who’s allergic to soy lecithin or soy products? What are your symptoms? And how can I face life without sushi (without soy sauce, it is pointless) and chocolate? O, Cadbury Creme Egg, do not leave me in my time of need! WTF? Help!   

Brrr. It’s cold. And here at Chez Hehu, we do what we can to stave off the chill.

And one of my main man Digit, taken while we were at the little mama’s house:

He’s sitting on a sweater I’m going to attempt to duplicate, and I have a brain teaser for you Nordic knitters (Janine, I’m looking at you). This was made in Norway for my mother forty-ish years ago. The woman who made it was from the Shetland Islands and married a Norwegian. And there’s something going on here that I’ve never seen. Seems that she picked up and knit the collar, fine and dandy. Then she made one purl ridge at the top of the collar and started knitting a stockinette facing that you can see (the solid green) above. Another picture (turned sideways) here:

And here:

So you can see the facing not only gets used as a kind of hem-binding along the steek edges, but it makes the button band, as well.

I understand the construction. I understand how to knit it. What I’m not getting is how to attach it so neatly. I have pulled those seams apart and looked between the stitches, and while it looks like the knitter used a machine to reinforce the steek, I can’t for the life of me figure out how she used that long strip so neatly — as a perfect ribbed button-band, and as a stockinette facing to case the steek. She’s using that strip in two ways, and must require two perfect seams. Is there anything written about how to do this well? How, exactly, to sew it? Anyone?

That is the Christmas puzzle I leave you with. I’m off for Boise tomorrow. Snow! Skiing! So excited! Back next week. Much love to you, my pets.