(R.H. Herron)
Mom is a good sport. Never that into dogs, she is a complete cat person. However, she was pleased as punch when Miss Idaho decided to give her the nod the other day when they were in town.
And Harriet is willing to sit at anyone’s feet, just as long as she’s getting all the attention.
But Clara? While the little mama is cute as always, isn’t Clara the show-stealer here? Hi! Here I am! I’m so HAPPY! Steak please?
Moebius Scarf! Directions at DIY Network. I love it. I used my own handspun cashmere, so I *really* love it. It’s almost too soft to wear, if that can be possible. (It also stretched out a bit, so I wore it doubled later in the day, which kind of defeated the moebius effect, but who cares? It’s cashmere!)
And get this: I was in San Francisco yesterday, meeting relatives in from New Zealand. While waiting in the hotel lobby, a woman asked me, "Is that the moebius scarf from Knitty Gritty?" So we discussed. Ah, the common language of knitting….
So, did you hear that Lala’s band The Whoreshoes got a European gig? They’re touring Benelux (see site for full details) for about ten days at the end of September. If you’re there, you should go.
We’ve known about this trip for a while. We’ve been broke for a while, too, so there were no plans made for me to go along, although my first thought on hearing about the tour was VENICE! I could take Lala to Venice! That was my first thought, even though my first thought really should have been something along the lines of "Oh, how wonderful that my wife’s band is so good and popular." No, I thought of how close Venice is to Brussels via Ryan Air.
Then we looked at finances, and I had given up the dream. Sigh. Someday.
Then we rented the condo, and I signed up for on-calls and overtime, and the dream is BACK on, baby.
I have to admit, that however glamorous it sounds, I don’t have much interest in touring with the band. That sounds like a lot of work and not enough time sitting in cafes. So instead, Lala and I are going to fly into Brussels about four days before the tour starts, and immediately hop a flight to Venice, where I will show her the city of my heart. (For more, if you have to have more, there are links to some of my Venice ramblings on the left.)
We’ll stay three days only, a long weekend for me, and then we’ll fly back to Brussels where I’ll dump her at her gig, maybe watch the first show, and head home.
I am beside myself. Look. Here’s me, and then over here, here’s me, sitting next to me. Be. Side. My. Self.
To catch you up if you’re behind, I love Venice, Italy. I do not like the city. I do not feel fondly toward it. I love it. I love everything about it. I’ve been six times, I think, and nothing dampens the passion. I got an amazing email from someone today, a gal who had stumbled on some of my Venice writing and wrote to say that she feels the same In Love way with the city. She, however, is living the life — writing for nine months in America, and living for three in Venice. I am jealous in that happy oh-someone’s-really-doing-it way.
The passion for the city feels physical, it feels like when you’re in love with a person. The smell of salt mixed with diesel, the sound of birds’ wings flapping and the myriad bells chiming, none at the same time, none together, the taste of spritz and prosecco and coffee and sepia.
Look! That just happens when I think about Venice. I wax poetic. How annoying for you.
I worry a little about freaking Lala out. She won’t love it as much as I do, and that’s okay. Few people do. She’ll think it’s a nice, pretty, tourist town, as most do, and that will be good. She might like it a LOT. She’ll be amused by her enthusiastic Boxy Ferrari (a Venetian working on a church’s scaffolding once gave me that description), and hopefully that will keep her from wanting to scream if the Ferrari says, "Oh, over here, sugar, over here!" one more time.
Also, even though god knows I love Italy, Italy does not, so much, as a whole, love the gay. They’re pretty closed to the gay. So it’ll be interesting to be there, out as a couple. I could have a very different experience this time. But I don’t think so. While the people are wonderful, and I love the interactions I have there, my relationship is with La Serenissima herself. I’ve called the city "it" through this blog entry, and every time I typed the word, I felt like I was calling a woman "it." I knew, however that saying I can’t wait to get back to her would be too precious, and I’d want to slap myself. You’d come through the computer to slap me, and I wouldn’t blame you. But Venezia just isn’t an It.
Ack! Stop me!
I’m excited.
My friend Nakachi is a strong, lovely woman, and she’s proving it, by setting this up. Please join if you’re so moved. I think it’s a fantastic idea. You’ve seen what knitters can do…..
All,
Many of you may be aware of the events currently unfolding
in Lebanon. Regardless of your political positions, or lack thereof,
the devastation has displaced a staggering number of civilians. Basic
living supplies are desperately needed. Many of us who feel the need
to assist in the call for humanitarian aid are unable to send money.
We are not, however, helpless.
I am the co-founder of a yahoo group created to gather those
who can sew/knit/crochet to assist in an on-going effort to provide
handmade towels, blankets, soap and clothing to those in need in
Lebanon and worldwide. We are making these items by hand to be
delivered directly to those in crisis.
We have made contact with relief workers on the ground in Lebanon and with the country’s Higher Relief Council to determine legitimate delivery channels and are preparing to send our
first shipments. We have also teamed with organizations here in the
U.S. with established humanitarian programs such as MADRE and Women’s International League for Peace.
At the end of the month cloths will be travelling to Ethiopia with an
organization called Hope for Children. The cloths will be delivered to
an orphanage for Ethiopian children affected by the HIV pandemic.
If you or someone you know knows how to knit, crochet or sew please join our yahoo group, Loop by Loop.
Feel free to forward this email to others you think would be willing to
assist in this massive effort. We need all the hearts and hands we can
get.
Who else saw Knitty Gritty yesterday? Who else was amazed? Did you see this?
I know, I can hear you yelping from here. That show? It’s normally pablum for new knitters who feel an irresistible need to knit with acrylic fun fur. I always Tivo it, though, and this is what I do: I bring it up, I cringe at the project, then I see who the knitster girls (or boys) are, since they’re sometimes bloggers (but does Vickie ever mention that? No), and then I fast forward to the designer featured, just in case it’s someone I LURVE so much that I’m willing to watch her pontificate upon the knitted air-conditioner cozy. (I’m going to get found someday by someone searching for that.)
Yesterday, however, the project was lovely, as I must admit, every once in a while it is. A Moebius cowl, done in Fleece Artist sportweight cashmere. Simple, pretty lace.
The designer was Cat Bordhi. No, I know. And you’re right. But I think even with her eccentricities, she’s a genius. Not a genius like Einstein or Zimmerman, but more like your crazy uncle who bought all those boat motors and then built an ice castle out of them, somehow. She freaks me out, but man, does her brain work in an unconventional way.
Now, Moebius knitting has always seemed vaguely interesting to me, in an oh-that’s-neat-but-eh kind of way. So you cast on stitches, and then do what you normally do accidentally, twist them when you join them in a circle. I guess it always seemed like a make-lemonade kind of project. Oh, shit! Well, that’s okay, I’ll just make a Moebius.
But not this method. Has this been around? Has she/anyone been doing this for a long time and I’ve been in the dark? She casts on twice around a double-looped long needle, and then knits continually, from the CENTER of the scarf, so there’s NO CAST ON EDGE (brilliant) and the one twist is just organically there. And it’s only a half-twist! When you screw up in casting-on, you get the whole twist, so there are actually two twists in your knitting, but this is only one, a true Moebius.
I watched the whole show, people. Fascinated. Something entirely new to me in knitting. I went for a bagel later, and found myself right next to a knitting store. So I went in, and heard people discussing the show, which had only aired two or three hours before. The clerk said she’d already sold yarn and long needles to four or five people who had rushed to the store. It’s like that, really.
So catch a repeat, if you can. The written instructions are here, but you can’t use them sans episode yet, since they haven’t even finished writing up Cat’s unusual cast-on.
Me, I’m using handspun cashmere, which only increases my delight in this surprising technique. I’m off today, and I have no plans other than sitting my ass on this couch and knitting.
No, not for me, silly. Stop it. But at work, I had a boy! I get a stork award! Here it is:
Working 911 fire/medical, you get birth calls regularly, if not often. Nine times out of ten, the contractions are in full swing, but the baby is still an hour or more away. Sometimes you get the real deal, screaming and pushing, the baby almost out, and then the silly paramedics get there too fast, and you miss the new baby’s entrance. Or you get the call after the baby’s born, and they just need an ambulance for transport.
But tonight, I got the whole deal, answered the phone and Almost-Dad-But-Not-Quite-Yet was screaming almost as loudly as Hang-On-Just-A-Second-You’re-Almost-A-Mom. "It’s coming out! The baby’s coming! Oh my god!"
In the length of time it took me to verify his address and phone number, to get her age and vital stats, the baby was all the way out. We got through the whole thing: making sure the baby was breathing and crying, cleaning the baby, wrapping the baby, tying the umbilical cord, delivering and wrapping the placenta.
Then I asked Now-You’re-A-Daddy, "Is it a boy or a girl?"
He said, "It’s a boy." Pause. "It’s a BOY!" You could hear that he hadn’t really fully realized it until he said it out loud for the first time.
"Congratulations, daddy." I said.
"Thank you! It’s a BOY!"
Dude. That was cool. And okay, I gave myself the stork award, since we always talk about them and no one ever really gets one, but I wanted it. So there it is. Woot! Happy birthday, kid. It’s a good world. Welcome.