Sahar Says...

When the Kitten's Away, the Cat will Play

2009-07-04T11:46:00.005-04:00

School's out. Summer's on (ok, who am I kidding? It feels like April here in Maine, but the calendar says summer, damn it, and that's where I'm trying to keep my head).

And here's the kicker--I'm on day 4 of Abby's visit with Nana and Grandpa in Indiana while I'm home in Maine. She comes home (with Nana) on Tuesday.

I miss the little sucker--who wouldn't? See how cute she is? Grandpa sent me this a couple days ago.

But I will also admit, here in the private pages of my blog, that I am having a fabulous time. The weight of arranging babysitters, choosing one opportunity over another, getting up in the middle of the night to offer drinks of water and hugs, and working around naps (not mine!) has been temporarily lifted. I'm not doing anything crazy, crazy. No, I'm spending my days sitting at my local coffee shop, having dinner with friends, catching Okbari and my fellow dancers at Blue, reading, sleeping in late (after going to bed late), going to a concert, and other equally pleasant pursuits.

And I'm gearing up for this summer's stint at the Southern Maine Writing Project. After this lovely week, and the one before at my parents' home in Indiana, I really do feel as though I've had a vacation. I'm rested. I'm ready! I'm excited to work with a great group of teachers for the next four weeks.

Yup. Life is good. But you can also bet I'll be ready to squeeze my little sweetie till she pops when she comes home on Tuesday!

What a funny little moment

2009-05-01T18:34:00.002-04:00

I'm sitting on my deck eating fried green beans. Abby is running around, 'painting the deck' with a stick she found. The dogs are in the yard, or up by Abby, or trying to steal my green beans. The sky is cloudy, but the temperature is near 70.

Despite all these pleasantries, I'm tired. Abby is tired. We're both a little grouchy. My allergies are acting up, so my throat is itchy and my nose is runny.

And yet...in just over three hours, I'll be belly dancing at a local spot in Portland.

Tired and grouchy as I am, I am pumped about later tonight. The venue is small, the music will be live, the crowd, friendly. And I'll be dancing with one of my belly dance friends, Josephina. I adore her. She's fun and fabulous.

I love all things about belly dancing. Even asking me to perform at 10 PM on a Friday, when normally I'm in bed by 9:45, can't deter my excitement.

My costume makes me happy, and the music will be transcendent. From 10 to midnight, I will not feel tired. I will feel exhilarated. My hip scarf will shimmer, my hips will shimmy. My skirt will swish, my snaky arms will slither. The rhythms and tempos will rise and fall, and I will follow where they lead.

I can't wait.

But I could still use a nap.

Civility

2009-02-20T16:12:00.002-05:00

As you may know, I look up to my brother. He has taught me many useful things--like how to knit, how to blog, how to behave in an art museum, and even how to make a kick-ass gravy. I strive to be like him in many ways, including in the way I blog. In his blog, he never rants. He has made a very careful point to avoid doing so. And I wish to once again follow in his footsteps.

(Mind you--lots of people rant in their blogs, and I by no means wish to judge them. I realize that I don't have to read anyone's blog if I don't like the content, and no one has to read mine, whether I rant or not. But I have other venues for spouting off, maligning my fellow human beings, and cursing excessively. I don't need to do it here for all to see. In the bright light of the next day, my rants often seem silly, petty, and down-right embarrassing, anyway.)

So this is not a rant.

It's a post about civility.

There are lots things one could say about civility. One could discuss table manners, the rearing of children, the appropriate way to tell someone her skirt is tucked into her pantyhose, or even the best way to deal with an obnoxious guy who sits next to you on your five-hour flight from Boston to San Francisco. There are civil ways to handle any and all of these situations, and zillions of others.

My focus is on civility between friends who make plans to get together.

Civility between friends? Surely one can afford to be a little more lax when it comes to friends. One can let one's guard down a bit. A friend will, of course, understand. Between friends it is certainly ok to make plans on a Tuesday for a lunch date on Thursday, then cancel said plans with a phone message Thursday morning. A friend will understand.

(I hear you. I know what you're asking: "Where is the lack of civility in this example?" And you are right. It is, in fact, very civil to call and cancel--as opposed to just not showing up--especially if you say you are sorry and that you forgot you had plans to go to, say, New Hampshire or Massachusetts or New York or California, that day. Oops! And you also say, Hey, we can get together Friday or even Saturday if you want.)

So the first friend (who tries very hard to be civil to all people, friends and strangers alike), the one who got a babysitter for the lunch date, calls back and leaves a message saying, "Hey, no problem. I hope you had a great trip. I'm booked for Saturday, but I could meet Friday afternoon for drinks. Let me know."

And here is where the lack of civility comes into play. The friend who canceled does not call back. Friday afternoon comes and goes, and it becomes clear that he does not really want to meet because if he did, he would have called again when he got back from his trip (which he did indeed do. He lives down the street. The stood-up friend saw him on her way to the grocery store). Certainly he would wish to reschedule, right? To follow up? To check in? To say, shucks, I can't do Friday. Too bad!

No. He would not. Because he lacks civility.

See?

Shoot.

This looks a lot like a rant.

And damn if I don't feel better for having written it.

Love Poems

2009-02-13T20:43:00.002-05:00

My students are writing poetry.

I ask them to do this for me every semester. I show them different types of poems--we look at tricky forms like the sestina, and we look at fairly easy-to-imitate models like Mary Pipher's "I am from" (still glorious--simple form doesn't mean lack of brilliance--my point to the kids exactly). I present a range of possibilities, and I ask my students to give them a whirl--or not. I don't require any type of poem. As a result, I get all kinds. Some students willingly take up the challenge of writing a sestina, and several have produced really incredible specimens. Some students, who declare in loud tones that they are not poets, they don't like poetry, and they can't write it, end up producing such tremendous free verse that we are both shocked at (and thrilled by) their hidden talents. Even when I stop requiring it, they continue their poetical efforts. Good stuff.

Inevitably, a few kids decide to write love poems. This shouldn't be shocking. High School is all about LOVE, right? I put the following poem by Stephen Crane on the board for our class discussion:

Ah, God, the way your little finger moved,
As you thrust a bare arm backward
And made play with your hair
And a comb, a silly gilt comb
—Ah, God—that I should suffer
Because of the way a little finger moved.

I use this poem for two reasons:

1) we talk about word choice and tone ("Ah, God" x2, "thrust," "bare," "gilt comb," etc. etc.)
2) we talk about how it focuses in on a teeny, tiny moment. Just a moment. A few seconds. A vivid image.

#2 actually gets a lot more attention than #1.

And still I get poems like the following (note--this is not actual student work. I would not put student work up here w/out permission. This is my imitation of some student work):

Why aren't we together?
We were meant to be.
It was in the stars.
The universe said so.
I love him,
but now I'm so alone.
And sad.
I cry every night.
Why did he go for that other girl?

But it's ok that I get poems like this. It gives me something to do, makes sure I still have a job in the morning.

I could have worse work than talking about words and emotion and poetry and images. In truth, I love this part of my job.

Happy Valentine's Day to the love poets. There's one in each of us, I'm certain.

A poem for you on a day for poems

2009-02-02T21:57:00.002-05:00

I am thrilled that I remembered, all on my own and without seeing it three days late in someone else's blog, that today is a day for celebrating Brigid, Goddess of Poetry and Healing, by participating in a silent poetry reading (done by posting a poem to one's blog). (See this link for details.)

Anyhow, I've had poetry on the brain a lot lately, maybe because for New Year's my dear friend Julie gave me a wonderful book: A Year with Rumi: Daily Readings, and I haven't missed a day of dipping into this glorious collection. Rumi, a 13th century mystic/poet from the Middle East, writes with simplicity and wisdom, or at least it seems so in the translations of Coleman Barks. So here is a favorite of mine, though it is not the selection from today. In fact, it's the selection from January 16.

Let the Beauty We Love

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don't open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

Holiday Hangover

2009-01-10T13:30:00.003-05:00

I've been back to work for a week now since our family holiday came to a close, and you know what? I'M TIRED.

I'm thinking we need a vacation to recover from our vacations.

Mind you, my vacation was anything but trying. My parents came for a visit which meant we had scenes like this:

BABY MONITOR: Hello? Mommy? ABC. Spider! Spout!
ME: Abby's up from her nap.
GRANDPA: Can I go get her?
NANA: No! I'm going!
GRANDPA: It's MY turn!
NANA: You can't catch me...

And I would just continue reading or writing or playing Pathwords on Facebook.

When Phil's parents came over, we even had scenes like this:

ABBY: Uh oh. Abby pooped!
ME: Abby needs clean pants!
GRANDMA: You want me to change your pants, Abby?
NANA: I can do it.
GRANDMA: I don't mind.
NANA: I'll just come along, too.
GRANDMA: Ok! We'll all go.

And I would just continue reading or writing or playing Pathwords on Facebook.

Clearly, I'm suffering from grandparent withdrawl symptoms. I might need to go to rehab.

Christmas Card Conundrum

2008-12-14T19:04:00.002-05:00

I first sent Christmas cards in college. I'd carefully choose a card that I felt represented my spirit, my style, my sensibilities. In each, I'd pen a note, simple maybe, but personal to each person on the list. I'd hand address each envelope, too.

Time passes. The list grows. I receive more cards from more people, and I add those people to my list.

The personal note has not lasted. I still write, "Merry Christmas!" or "Happy Holidays" or something at least a little different (hardly) from the pre-printed message, but I feel a pang of guilt with each scribble. Why did the note go by the wayside? Because of the length of the list? Maybe, but I'm inclined to think it's because most of the cards I get have no note. They have the family's names (written by the same hand) below the preprinted bit. The whole Christmas card thing is starting to feel...more like business and less like the meaningful communications I started with years ago.

All right. For the sake of argument (with myself) I'm going to alter my perspective from that of pained Christmas card writer to Christmas card receiver. We get cards from all sorts of folks--family, close friends, acquaintances, lobbyists, the electric company. How do I feel when I receive these cards? Let's see. I enjoy the images. I do. I take a moment to look at each one (even from the utilities people). Maybe that's because I've always put thought into the cards I choose to send. If there's a note, I'm thrilled. If the card is just signed, that's ok, I still feel happy to see it. If there is a typed up "Christmas Letter" and I am fond of/close to the sender, I read the note happily. If I am not close to the sender (note lobbyists in list above) I don't give the letter much time. It goes right into the recycle bin. What else? I love getting pictures of family/friends/their kids. I may not save them forever, but I'm happy to see them.

Ok then. So considering all of the above, it seems I should keep sending my cards, weak scribble and all, and I'm maybe on to something by sticking Abby's photo in.

So what was the point of this post? No point. Thinking through writing. To an audience (Hi, Mom!) Actually, I guess it made me feel better about the cards I'm sending. It was a good reminder to myself to look at things from different perspectives. And now I'd better finish the cards!

A Writer's Dilemma

2008-12-12T19:00:00.002-05:00

So I'm an English teacher. A major part of my job is the teaching of writing. Because I'm a high school teacher, I'm not teaching handwriting and spelling (though God knows my kids could use instruction in both; come to think of it, so could I). I get to teach cool things like style, voice, organization, attention to detail and audience. The good stuff. I love reading the work my students write for their portfolios. They try out fiction, poetry, personal essays on all kinds of topics, letters, articles, etc. etc. I am amazed by what they write and how well they do with the revision process.

One part of my students' portfolios is writing 50 pages in a writer's notebook. I like this element, even though there are always kids who struggle, and a few who write 30 to 40 pages in the weekend before Portfolio Day, but there are also always a few who end the semester vowing to continue journaling because they love it so much. And several do lots of good draft writing in their journals. Lots of students realize that it's ok (and necessary) to write badly to get to the good stuff. So I keep the journal requirement.

I have my own journal. I just started a new one recently. I had an eye-opening moment recently regarding my journal. I realized that I don't write 50 pages a semester. And I felt kind of bad about that. A teacher of writing should write. Duh.

On a recent trip to San Antonio, Texas, for a National Writing Project conference, I took my journal. Due in part to the nature of the conference and the company of my most excellent Southern Maine Writing Project companions, I wrote rather a lot in my journal...about 30 pages. It felt great. Of course, what I've written is mostly crap. Not a problem though. I'm practicing what I preach.

And so on to the dilemma (anyone still with me? This is getting all rambly). I would REALLY like to write some fiction. I've never been very good at it. The last time I finished a story was in college, a creative writing class. Based on the feedback from the professor, story writing wasn't my strong suit. And when I think back to those stories, well...I'm a little embarrassed that ANYONE read them.

In those 30 some odd journal pages, I've made a few attempts at fiction writing. I'm toying with character ideas, names. Plots. Conflicts. Obviously, the conflict is key. But that's where I come up dry. I don't have the ability to manufacture conflict. Or, I find I don't know enough about anything to write convincingly. Now I know that writers do research, lots and lots of research. But I'm not even to the point of knowing what to research. I feel like I kind of need some basic ideas. This isn't a solicitation. It's just a musing on my fiction-writing dilemma. I feel thoroughly unoriginal.

Maybe this ramble will help clear my head. I'm headed back to my black moleskin journal to see what I can come up with. Wish me luck, but don't look for my book on the bestseller's list anytime soon.

Gratuitous Abby Photos

2008-12-05T21:44:00.003-05:00

I just looked back to my last entry with pictures and realized it was from WAY back when Abby's greatest physical skill was rolling over. Goodness. She's changed a bit since then! So here are a few pictures to catch you up.

Abby's an avid reader now.

And she likes to climb on things.

Including hills in the yard. (Recognize the kimono from Uncle Franklin?)

And of course Abby still models the hand knits from Uncle Franklin most beautifully!

Ok, so my goal of blogging again is to write more. This post isn't living up to that goal, but with pictures of Abby? Who'd read the writing anyway?

Drinks with the mucky-mucks

2008-12-03T09:08:00.004-05:00

So last night? Here's who I hung out with:

The nominee for Secretary of State.
The Senate majority leader.
The Senate minority leader.
A number of representatives to the house and senate, some freshmen, some returning, from both parties.

Oh yes, we had drinks at the local political hotspot.

Further details?
The Secretary of State was wearing a Red Sox t-shirt.
The Senate majority leader? Spent the night with me after.
The senate minority leader? Sells mustard when he's not working on legislation.

What scoop! What dish!

Today's the swearing in for the Great State of Maine's 124th legislature, and I have seats in the back row to watch. Grandma's on the way with Abby, and so we should have an interesting day in the Senate chamber! She's been here before, but not since she was more or less confined to a carseat. (That would be Abby, not Grandma. She can be counted on to behave, so I never had to strap her into a carseat.) Hopefully Grandma brings her camera; I forgot mine.

As Senate Majority Leader, Phil's role today will be to take a message to the Governor's office, letting him know the new Senate has assembled and is ready to take the oath of office. Pretty cool, eh?

Oh, and I'm writing this post on the computer in the office of the Senate Majority Leader! Not bad digs!

Isn't politics grand?

Starting anew?

2008-11-30T16:23:00.003-05:00

It's been over a year since I've posted to this blog (thanks for the kick in the pants, Molly Bee!).

I'm feeling the urge to fire it up again, but I'm not sure if life will continue to intervene.

And then there's the small matter of having nothing to write about.

So...

What's new here?

Phil has been re-elected to the State Senate for his third term and has added to his duty the role of Senate Majority Leader. This is exciting, at least from his perspective. From my perspective, he'll be home less, but still, I think he'll be good at this job. He's a deal maker, peace broker, level-headed, soft-spoken but loud when necessary, idea generator. What more could the state need? Luck to him, I say. (Glad it's not me.)

My daughter Abby continues to be an absolute gem. She's a year and a half now and is a walking, talking, dancing, singing machine. And she has begun asking questions. I find that very exciting. (Please do not tell me I will tire of it. Do not kill my Mommy Buzz!) Her first question was "What's that?" ("Wuzzaaaat?"), and she has recently added "Why?" to her repertoire, though she generally doesn't understand my answers, and so follows them up with a vigorous "Huh?"

Abby's favorite song (in her words):

Itsy Spidah.
SPOUT!
RAIN!!
Yay!

She also sings something vaguely resembling the ABC song, and whenever she sees written words, she points and says, "H!" I think 'H' is a mighty fine letter.

Since I'm spilling Abby's many skills here for all to see, I'll also tell you that she points to the picture that hangs just to the right of her dressing table and correctly names "Abigail Adams."

Today in church she charmed us all by saying, 'Obama!' very loudly and for no apparent reason. When her father went up to the front of the church to perform deacon-related duties, she said (again rather loudly), "Where Daddy Go?" He heard her, clear at the front of the sanctuary. She also applauded when the choir finished singing. I've always had the urge to do that, but no one does, so I don't. I'm glad she doesn't have my inhibitions.

Here is a conversation we had the other day:

Abby: I hungry.
Me: What would you like to eat?
Abby: Ice Cream.
Me: We don't have ice cream for breakfast.
Abby: Why?
Me: I have no idea. It doesn't make much sense to me either.

Wise beyond her years, I'm telling you.

So this blog, should I keep writing it, will likely turn into the Abby report, which may not be all that exciting for most people who are generally a) much more interested in the exploits of their own children, or b) not interested in tales of children at all.

But then, I'm just feeling the urge to do some writing, and blogging will give me some practice that can't hurt me any, regardless of readership.

Guess that's it for now.

Until next time (next day? next week? next month? next year?)...

I actually thought of knitting the other day

2007-11-14T18:10:00.000-05:00

So Molly Bee gave me a kick in the pants, and here I am posting. About what? I dunno.

But I'll probably include some gratuitous baby pictures.

Abby needs a new hat. I can do hats, and so I probably should get to it.

She's wearing the hat I made her before she was born, and it's definitely getting too small (but it's still awfully cute). You might also note that she is getting plenty of good use out of the rainbow sweater her Uncle Franklin knit for her. And it washes up like a dream--softer than ever.

What's new around here? Not much--still working on balancing school and baby. We're actually doing quite well, but we don't seem to be able to do much else. At least Phil has been able to put Abby to work on campaign stuff.

Abby and the pups also seem to be getting along ok.

Now, if only Abby would get more joy out of a bowl of rice cereal. So far, it's not her favorite thing to eat.

But all in all, she's a great kiddo. And she's just begun rolling over.

What more could we want in life?

Coming up for air...

2007-08-20T17:57:00.000-04:00

Phew! What a busy summer! We just got back from a roadtrip to Indiana, and now I'm just over a week from starting school again.

To top that off, Phil is going to China for two weeks right when school starts. It should be mighty interesting around here for a while.

Lots to do to prep for school, not to mention to get this house into a presentable condition. Plus I'm still wrapping up work with The Maine Writing Project--I was the assistant director for our new Southern Maine site and had a wonderful time of it.

So...I'll just pop some pictures up here and leave it at that!

Uncle Franklin hade a great time with Abby when he came to Maine for her baptism.

A quick bath in Granny's kitchen sink after a long ride from Philadelphia to Uniontown, PA.

Bear Feet!

Tummy Time!

Sitting up (with a little support!)

Apparently I can't multitask

2007-07-10T16:39:00.000-04:00

So...last I wrote, I was quite pregnant. Since then I've:

1) had a baby
2) learned how to change a diaper (never did that before)
3) changed lots of diapers
4) stared for hours on end at my baby
5) showed the baby to other people
6) washed clothes (mine and baby's--we are both messier than I ever imagined)
7) slept a little bit, in stretches no longer than four hours (four hours! I know! I'm blessed!)
8) sent lots of baby pictures to family
9) forgotten I had a blog
10) remembered I had a blog, but didn't find time to write in it

So here I am again. Maybe I'll give this blogging thing one more go. I like doing it, but finding the time? Sheesh. Of course, lots of other people who are MUCH BUSIER THAN I AM manage to do this, so I should be able to pull it off.

But since my world is baby, baby, baby for the moment, I don't have much else to report. So, I'll leave you with a photo of Abigail Ann.

p.s. What is this thing called knitting? I hear it involves yarn and sticks, but I just can't imagine how it works.

Still here, still pregnant, still not knitting much

2007-04-18T16:03:00.000-04:00

Hey, all.

We managed not to float away during this crazy spring storm, and more surprisingly, we managed not to lose power. Lots of folks all around us still don't have it back. We did have some leaking in our living room--right over the grand piano!--but we caught on to it before any major damage was done and now it has been rolled into the middle of the livingroom. It looks like someone lifted up the edge of our house and everything just slid down. Most alarming. The ceiling looks like crap, so we've got some fix up stuff to do, but we can't really complain--it could have been much worse. Had the leak started in the night or even ten minutes after it actually started (we noticed it right when it started, which was minutes before we headed out the door and were gone for several hours), a steady stream of water would have poured directly into the piano. Instead, it got a few drops on it's exterior before gettting covered in plastic and slid to safety. Phew! Didn't think I'd be moving a piano at eight months pregnant!

We're on spring break here. I had grand schemes, but I also figured I wouldn't get to most of them. So far, I'm meeting my expectations. I'm sleeping a lot. And reading popcorn novels. Though I'm still dancing. I performed at a Belly Dance hafli at the end of March--very exciting, dancing with this ever-growing belly of mine!

(Not sure I'm totally sorry this picture is blurry--at least you get a sense...and I feel slightly less exposed!!)

Phil took a few days off and we spend some quality time together, mostly just sitting at home, relaxing and reading. We also took the dogs out for a jaunt at the beach--before this crazy storm.

That's the latest...less than a month to my due date, which means the baby could be three weeks or six weeks away. My students would love it if I were that flexible with my due dates at school. Ha. Oy. School. I do have a stack of research papers that I REALLY need to grade before this vacation ends. Can't put that off--gosh, if I had the baby before I finished the papers, my sub would have to grade them.......wait a minute....hmmmm...... No, no, no! That would not be fair to the students! Gah. Sometimes it stinks to have a conscience. Guess I'd better get to that grading.

Finished objects, snow, and work in progress

2007-03-02T08:18:00.000-05:00

I have been meaning to post for a few weeks now. I've composed many an entry in my head, but I have failed to execute, til now. So this will be a multifaceted post.

To begin: Finished objects

Yay! I finished my mittens! They are soft and lovely and beautiful, even if I realized when they were done that one cuff is slightly longer than the other. I don't care. Isn't there some tradition about knitting a mistake into everything so as to not claim perfection? Not my aim, but I'll use it as an excuse any day. Anyhow, here they are:

I finished them rather a while ago--before spring break. Speaking of breaks, that leads me to my next topic:

Snow

Today I'm home for a snow day. It is still early and so far the day hasn't brought anything particularly intersting (except worry--and who needs to read about that? Phil went to work, and he's supposed to fly to DC this afternoon. That never makes for a very relaxing snow day, so I won't say any more about it.) What I want to write about is the FIRST snow day we had this season from a couple of weeks ago. THAT was a quality snow day. I got to stay home, and Phil stayed home, too. A rare treat! We spent the whole day in the livingroom--we don't often spend much time in there as it's usually a dog-free zone and we like to be with the pooches. But on that magical snow day we made exceptions. Everyone was welcome. Phil did some work from home:

This was clearly as good as doing work at the office, except that if you got up to pee, you risked losing your seat:

If you're wondering what's up with Milton's appearance (looks like he just had brain surgery), it isn't as alarming as all that. He has a cut at the tip of his ear, and when it comes open, it bleeds like crazy. Only way to stop it is to put the ear on top of his head and bandage him up to keep it there for a couple days or so. He hates this scenario, but to be honest, it made him very calm on the snow day and so he was quite well-behaved while in the usually-dog-free zone. He also got special privileges, like being allowed on the livingroom couch.

I did some knitting--this was before the mittens were done.

And mostly we all just hung out and enjoyed the cozy fire.

Our friendly neighbors who live across the street (also teachers) came over for lunch. We had vegetable soup and ham and cheese paninis. It was a lovely time. That is how snow days should be.

My final topic of the day is 'work in progress.'

I can speak to this on two fronts: 1) knitting. 2) baby (and maybe they are sort of related).

As far as knitting goes, I bought some yarn (that I didn't need) at our Craft Mania because the store is closing and the yarn was 40% off. I didn't by anything too special, just some versatile stuff that could be used for lots of projects. I have decided to actually knit something for my kid, but as my repetoire of knitting skills is limited and my energy even more so, I am simply knitting a little hat. I like hats. I like wearing them, I like knitting them, I like admiring other people's. So that is what I am doing. Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of that work in progress. I'll have that for next time. Maybe it will even be done (what with this being a snow day and all).

As far as baby goes, we are starting to shape up what will be the baby's room. The crib was delivered and outfitted (by my mother-in-law--thanks Nancy!) over February vacation. I think it looks charming. Perhaps as homage to my newfound (newish, anyway) love of knitting, there are sheep on the banket.

Also as far as baby goes, here I am, a work in progress myself!

I think that will have to do for now. I'm about to actually put all the pictures in place for this entry, so cross your fingers and toes that blogger cooperates.

Finished! (Sort of)

2007-02-08T17:16:00.000-05:00

I did it! I knit some more AND I finished something--my first mitten! Ta-Da!

I am quite pleased with this mitten, though the sewing up of the thumb came out a little on the wonky side, and the part that goes over my fingers might be a tad big for me, really, but still. I LOVE it. It is beautiful. It is green. It is made with Lorna's Laces purchased in New York City on my very first trip there ever.

And I have cast on for the second mitten.

In theory, these could be all done and put into service very quickly. Mitten making does not take long, except in my world where intervals between knitting can be months. Silly me.

Anyhow, I am proud, I am happy, I have a mitten that is mine all mine made by ME ME ME ME ME.

I think it's in my sign (Taurus) to be selfish. Or is it vain? I don't know. Anyhow, I'm both.

And I love my mitten.

A poem for you

2007-02-02T16:31:00.000-05:00

Turns out that today marks the Second Annual Brigid in Cyberspace Silent poetry reading. I did not know this until just a moment ago when I read about it at Yarn Harlot's blog. I find that I'm sorry I missed the First Annual occurrence of the event.

In honor of this poetical day, I've decided to share with you an original poem. It's about winter and it pretty much matches the sort of day we are having here in Maine at the moment, though I wrote it when I lived in Medford, Massachusetts.

Winter Afternoon

Catholic school girls on the street
With naked knees and stomping feet
Wait for the bus with boys from school
Who hide raw hands in coats of wool.
The crusty snow is coated black.
Relentless wind provides no slack.
Instead it picks up grit and sand
In cracked and cold invisible hands
And pelts the children while they're waiting
With eyes squeezed shut and lips pursed, hating
The winter grime in nose and eyes
And the pressing down of steel-gray skies.

It's not exactly a cheery poem, but I like it. It captures a scene I drove past on my way home from school many afternoons.

Happy Groundhog Day. Here's to an early spring.

A hodgepodge, if you will

2007-01-10T20:30:00.000-05:00

I have not knit since the hat for charity. I will not speak of it. For shame. (Mostly because I want my mittens, but obviously not in the right way to make me take out the darn knitting!)

I have been teaching full time again. My student teacher finished his stint, and now I am overwhelmed by how much work I used to do before he came along. Two days left this week--then finals next week. A chance to regroup? Sort of...

And now to distract you with a bit of dazzle, here I am in the galabiyeh Franklin brought me back from Turkey. Milton graciously agreed to help liven up the shot:

Milton, by the way, has been hounding us (tee hee) about starting his own blog. We can't sit down to the computer without his interference.

Miss Otis, meanwhile, impressed us with her uncanny, goat-like climbing skills in an effort to get above the fray (which is code for "above the Milton." Our poor beagle girl can't catch a break without him sitting on her or biting her or making wild, doggy-like advances towards her. We did not help her into this position. She practically sprouted wings and flew to this lofty height.)

See why I call this post a hodge podge? I have almost nothing whatsoever to report. Mostly, I justed hoped to distract you with cute pooch pictures. Did it work?

For the excessively curious, I will note that the baby has begun doing the Can-Can. Usually at four in the morning. I don't mind. I am not at the point where I find this annoying. I'm still fascinated by the whole concept of baby movements I can feel. Wild. Oh, and at least two people have commented on my pregnancy because they could tell by looking at me that I am pregnant. So now I guess I don't just look like I over-indulged this holiday season. Phew!

Happy Merry Whatever You Celebrate

2006-12-26T12:44:00.000-05:00

Around here, we celebrate Christmas, and it has gone swimmingly (you could maybe take that literally, as we've had only rain and no snow this week).

Franklin and Mom and Dad flew in on Friday with little trouble--only minor delays that gave me more time to attempt to clean up the place before their arrival.

We've spent our time together cooking and eating and washing dishes, plus wrapping and unwrapping gifts, shopping, and visiting. It has been extremely pleasant thus far. The gifts this year were wonderful on all accounts-- everyone is happy and I don't think we have a single thing to return. Shocking! I'll just highlight one gift here, from Franklin, to baby:

Watch out, everybody. The Democrats are breeding.

It's a good thing Franklin is sleeping in the barn. He can keep our latest arrival company. I'm not making my parents give up the guest bedroom for her royal highness, no matter where she says she's had the privilege of sleeping before (or maybe it's because of where she's slept before...) Besides, shouldn't she be plenty comfortable in a barn?

We'll have to keep you posted. The remainder of this holiday promises to be most interesting.

A finished object--for a good cause, too

2006-12-15T17:45:00.000-05:00

First of all, thanks to everyone for the kind words, wishes, and congratulations! We are very excited about the baby, and it's nice to have so many friendly comments directed our way.

As for this finished object business....I finished a hat. I have not finished a mitten, which is too bad, as I'd like to have these mittens this winter. At the current knitting rate, they'll be done when my kid is twelve. But the hat? She is done. Cast on and completed over last weekend. One of my homeroom students is knitting and collecting knitted items for a charity, and so it was an easy way to show my student I'm paying attention and also doing someting good. I know lots of knitters are big into knitting to give away to help others--either in their own cities, across the country, or around the world. I find this admirable, though up til now knitting for charity has not been a trait of mine. I am a very slow knitter (mostly because I go long stretches between knitting), so I hardly finish anything for myself or my family and friends. I appreciated the ease with which I could contribute and the inspiration from someone I see everyday--and a busy student at that! Here is the hat:

This has been a busy week with lots of obligations in the evenings and craziness at school. I am still taking bellydance classes (which I love). Both sessions had their last classes this week, and even though the evening outings make me tired, they are worth it. Next session I will only take one class, in part because my two favorite teachers will be teaching on the same night and partly because two classes was a lot this fall. I think one will be more manageable and enjoyable. Tonight is the class party for one of my groups, and I'm going to wear the galabiyeh Franklin brought me from Turkey. I finally got the neckline altered so I can put it on. I will try to get a picture tonight!

I need to finish prepping my contribution to the pot-luck (penne w/tomatoes and artichokes) and then get ready to go.

I'm excited that I'm posting for the second time in the same month. I'll try to be back again soon!

Holy Crap. She's back.

2006-12-07T20:15:00.000-05:00

I'm still here. Are you still there?

A brief update:

1) I've been knitting.
2) Phil won his re-election.
3) My student teacher finishes up this month, and I'm terrified of the time when I'll have to teach all my classes again.
4) I've been busy making stuff (besides the knitting).

Ok, the breakdown:

1) I finally started a new knitting project. It is a mitten. I am on the part that comes after the thumb. Yep, the home stretch. Of course, it's just the first mitten, and it's knit on straight needles so I have to sew it up when I'm finished, but still. I'm using the lovely green Lorna's Laces I got back in February when I went to New York. I have yet to take a picture. Camera and knitting don't seem to ever be in the same place.

2) Phil won resoundingly with 57% of the vote. Not bad at all. This past Wednesday was the swearing in at the Capitol. This is not to be confused with the general swearing that will occur later when the senate actually attempts to get some work done. There are 18 Democrats and 17 Republicans. Not exactly an equation for easy negotiating. Anyhow, the ceremony was swell.

Phil is the tall guy to the right of the woman in the hot pink blazer (look to towards the top left side of the picture). That's the Governor up front reading the oath.

A close-up of the newly sworn-in Senator and his charming wife.

3) My student teacher has done an amazing job. The students all want to know if he's going to work at my high school. That would be nice, but they aren't hiring (unless they fire me, and then it wouldn't be very nice at all). Anyhow, he's met and exceeded the expecations for a new teacher, and I wish him well.

4) Aside from knitting and campaigning and raising puppies and not teaching, I've been working on another project since mid August, and I've got a ways to go still until it's finished. Here is a progress picture:

Franklin was delighted to point out that my child has the same hair cut as his uncle.

Further details: I'm due in mid May. We do not wish to find out if we're having a boy or a girl. We are working on names. The baby's room will have no commerically identifiable theme, though I'm hoping for some original Franklin art. I did not really get sick during my first trimester--just rather tired. That seems to be fading somewhat for now. What else do people like to know about these things? I don't know. I know next to nothing about children. I'm banking pretty heavily on the theory that people tend to like their own children even if they don't care a whole heck of a lot for other people's.

Anyhow, that last bit of info is probably why I haven't been writing much. Didn't want to spill the beans in the blog til now, and yet I was darn near consumed with thoughts of the baby. Plus, like I said, I was wicked tired.

More soon, I sincerely hope.

Surfacing...

2006-10-12T15:45:00.000-04:00

Phew! Where have I been? Nowhere interesting, I'm sad to say.

I have not knit since I finished the class sock. Terrible and sad!

My life has been primarily about:

1) school
2) dogs
3) campaign

School is the biggy--we're back in business, and this time around I have a student teacher. Really, this means I should have all kinds of time to write. He's doing a marvelous job, taking over classes left and right, and I really am having a very easy time of it. And yet, it all consumes me.

Dogs? They're the same as always. Milton had ear issues, poor guy, and had to have his head bandaged all because of a cut at the tip of his ear that would not stop bleeding. He looked silly and sulked for a few days because of it. He's all better now (he's actually sleeping on my lap right now. So cute!)

The campaign. My darling husband senator guy is up to his ears in campaign work (not to mention actual lawyer work). This too is not really an immediate issue for me. He has volunteers and a campaign coordinator and other forms of help, but what it means is I don't see him much. Again, that should mean more time to write, right? And yet, it consumes me, too.

Of course, so does Oprah.

Everything you just read was written on Oct. 5. Now it's Oct. 12 and I'm NOT sitting at home with a puppy curled up on my lap. I am instead at the Subaru Dealer. Routine visit--oil change, etc. etc. When Phil bought me this car, he was excited to tell me that the dealership waiting room was super nice and had computers with internet access. I think he over-inflated the excitement of the Subaru waiting room, but that could be because I now spend more time here than he does. Not that I'm here a lot, mind you. The car is wonderful. I'm just always took my Tercel to the Express Lube and was in and out in 15 minutes. Now that I have my first ever brand new car, I won't settle for Express Lube, and that means hour waits in the nice, clean, computerized, but not overly exciting Subaru waiting room.

I know what you're thinking. I should be knitting not typing! And you would be wrong. Really, I should be grading essays, not typing. Don't know what the aversion is. The ones I've graded have been interesting and pleasant to read, not to mention easy to grade. But still. Just pulling out the folder takes more willpower than I presently have, and the conveniently located computers called out to me instead.

You know what would make this waiting room a really rockin' place? A sundae bar. I could go for an ice cream right about now. With hot fudge. And sprinkles.

The thing is, I could stop typing this blog entry right now and hit post and then get to the papers, but I also have with me a book that I'm enjoying (Marley and Me by John Grogan. I'm a sucker for books about dogs). It's far more likely that once I hit post, I'll pick up the book and not the papers.

Oh well. C'est la vie.

I'll try to post again soon. Wish I had something truly exciting to share, but until I do, I'll just put up a little more senseless drivel.

You know, sometimes it just feels good to ramble.

What season is it?

2006-09-06T19:31:00.000-04:00

First of all, thanks to Molly Bee for the kind wishes about the school year. It is off and running, that's for sure. Every year I forget how tired I am after the first few days with kids. I've spent most afternoons yawning and wishing I could slide off my chair and take a nap curled up under my desk! I seem to be bouncing back from that, though, so I guess I'm settling in. I have great classes so far--nice kids. They're already kind of smart, too.

I also have a student teacher. He is a great guy who is very excited and agreeable. So that's working out. It adds a level to my tired-ness, but that's ok. I have to be more reflective of my own practice, and that's definitely not a bad thing.

The weather has been ideal for back to school--not too hot, even a little on the cool side. But last Sunday? It was downright chilly in the house. The day was rainy from start to finish and the temps were in the fifties. It's too early to turn on the heat (have you noticed the price of oil!?), so my darling dear started a fire for me in our fireplace. This is where I spent most of my day on Sunday:

Not bad, eh? I wore my pajamas and big, red fleecy robe all day, too.

I spent part of the time by the fire reading student papers, and it was actually rather enjoyable. I asked the students to write their "reading autobiography," a look back at their lives as readers. They all wrote about being read to as a kid, and most named two or three books they particularly loved. Some wrote about learning to read--either in school or even before they went to school. One student wrote that she'd sneak into her mom's room and read the books on her mom's bedside bookshelf! She left it at that, but isn't that provocative??!! Better than sneaking booze or drugs, right? Another thing nearly everyone mentioned was Harry Potter. From reading their papers I made what to me was a startling realization. These kids are so lucky! They got to literally grow up with Harry. They were in third or fourth grade when Harry Potter books started coming out--when young Harry learns on his birthday that he'll be a first year at Hogwarts--and now, as Harry is approaching his final year at Hogwarts (or not...you need to read HP6 to get some ideas about that!!), these kids are juniors and seniors in high school. Fabulous.

I'm sure you looked at that picture above and thought, "oh, she had BETTER have spent some time knitting in that perfect setting." Not to fear. I finished the papers AND I finished the class sock!! Yay!

It came out pretty good, and while I don't know who in the world could wear it--it's short but sort of fat--I did slip it over the lower half of my foot and I am so ready to make me some real socks!

I learned a bit in the process (of course--that was the idea of the CLASS sock). I realized I had never actually picked up stitches before in anything. I went back to Stoller's Stitch-n-Bitch for a quick lesson, and it worked out ok. I could have done better, but I didn't know that until the sock was done and there was a small hole at the beginning of the part where I had to pick up the stitches. I feel pretty good about the possibility of getting that right next time around. However, there's that funny little direction about picking up two stitches at the top of the gusset (I'm sure my terms are all wrong--bear with me). I got it right (somehow--magic, maybe?) on one side, but not on the other. See?

Anyhow, I'm still wicked proud of my class sock. I'm going to rip out the beginning of the Portuguese man-o-war sock and start over with a recipe from Charlene Schurch's Sensational Knitted Socks (that's where the class sock is from). Not sure which one yet, but I'll get to it. Eventually! I'm anything but a rushed knitter.

I am, however, a bit rushed in the paper-reading department, so I'd better get back to business.

socks, mountains, deer, and dogs

2006-08-23T09:31:00.000-04:00

An update, of sorts:

1) The portuguese man o' war sock has been put on hold. Several folks asked about the pattern I was using to make my sock, and I'll tell you. It was a free pattern from my very LYS. Don't know where it came from besides that. I had a copy of the pattern and I was all set to make the sock, but here's what really was happening. I could cast on ok and knit around on my little DPNs no problem. I'd made hats before, after all. And I kept thinking that I was going to have to knit more than a tube eventually, but I'd deal with figuring out the bit about the heal when I came to it. I have perhaps an overinflated belief in my ability to follow written directions. You see, I am a directions junkie. I LOVE reading instruction manuals for the electronic gadgets we get, and I wouldn't dream of assembling a bit of furniture from Target without reading the instructions first. When we got our computer and the directions were mostly in the form of pictures, I was near panic. Where were the WORDS describing which cable went where? Anyhow, I viewed the sock pattern as directions, and while I knew it would get slightly more complicated after the tube part, I figured I'd just read slowly and carefully and I'd be fine. The thing is, when I read my VCR manual, I read the section that's printed inEnglish, not the section in Japanese. And as my eye kept sneaking glances at the next part of the sock pattern, I grew more and more uneasy with how the directions didn't look like they were in English. I didn't admit defeat (defeet???) exactly, but I did decide I needed some better directions. So I got Charlene
Schurch's Sensational Knitted Socks after Franklin mentioned that he was using it. I have forever been copying my older brother. Throughout our years together he has felt alternately cursed and flattered by this. I think he's more flattered these days, thank goodness! Anyhow, I got the book which has lots of clever things to say about sock knitting, especially to someone like me who a) has never knit a sock before; and b) has no one local to serve as an instructor. I decided to make the 'class sock' for practice--big needles, big yarn--so I can see what the heck I'm doing. So far I've knit the leg bit, the heal flap, and the heal turn. It was all very exciting, and I only had to call Franklin once for tech support.

Of course, I haven't picked up the sock in a week or two, and I think it's because I'm scared of the next part. There's lots of terms I'm feeling uneasy about. Like 'gusset.' Scary. Go ahead; you can laugh. Anyhow, I need to settle in somewhere with no distractions, read the directions, and try it. I'll get to it eventually. But there have indeed been distractions. Like mountains.

2) I went on a lovely, but brief, camping/hiking adventure with my friend Julie. I love to visit Acadia National Park in the summer, but with Phil wrapped up in his campaign, I didn't think we'd get to go. Good friend to the rescue! We had a swell time.

At the campsite

Julie on the Jordan Cliff Trail

Me on the Jordan Cliff Trail with Jordan Pond in the background

3) Seems to be around this time of year that the deer start showing up regularly in our backyard to eat the apples that fall off of our apple tree. We appreciate this, as picking up the rotten apples is not a very good time. The crazy thing is that we live pretty much in/near the center of town. We are by no means out in the woods. There is a small wooded area behind our neighbor's house, but still. These deer are remarkably comfortable with humans so close by. Phil said last night as I was snapping these pictures that he hopes they stick to the charming 'woods' in town rather than finding the open forests of Maine, 'cause once hunting season starts, these poor creatures will be shot with something other than my digital camera.

4) Gratuitous dog shots. Because I'm home on summer vacation, the pups get to spend lots of time outside in the morning. Miss Otis watches the yard wake up from the deck, and Milton hunts out sunny spots. They are most adorable.

That's about it for now. School starts Monday. ACK!!!!!

Out of order

2006-08-02T07:35:00.000-04:00

My storytelling, that is. I'm hopping back in time to give the highlights of my trip to Kokomo, Indiana.

Highlight One: The Indianapolis Zoo.
Dad and I headed into the city to check out the animals, and we had a mighty fine time. Though we did decide to catch the dolphin show, and it was decidedly lack-luster. Otherwise, the place was swell.

It seems that when I go to the zoo, I am always drawn to the same animals, elephants and giraffes. I might see others, but these I photograph ad nauseum. I find it most alarming that the Republicans have a lock on the elephant.

Speaking of politics, Highlight Two: The Howard County Democrats
I was pleased to see that there are in fact Democrats in Indiana, in Kokomo even. There are apparently enough of them to have an office, though no one was actually IN the office at the time of this picture.

To be honest, I'm not sure there are actually people who live in Kokomo. The place is empty. No matter where we went, there were never more than six cars in the parking lot (even at Sam's Club or the grocery store). I kept saying to my mother, "Where are all the people?" It started to feel a bit like the Truman Show. I think the handful of people we did see were all exras. Everyone drove PT Cruisers, too. Yeah, I know, Chrysler is Kokomo's largest employer, but still. It was a little odd, is all.

Highlight Three: Dad's birthday
Pop turned 60 this summer, and we had a nice dinner out and a pleasant gift-giving experience. There was decidedly a theme: airplane and flying-related items. Franklin set dad up with a leather flight jacket and cap, I got him a co-pilot, and even the dessert kept to the theme:

Airplane Cookies!

This is me with Dad's co-pilot, Little Bear. He used to take Little Bear with him when he was learning to fly and in his early flying days in Hawaii. It delighted me to no end that he took one of my bears with him, but Little Bear gave up his airborn life when I went to college and took him with me. Now he has returned to the airfield, with his own pilot's certificate, a resume, charts, and a cover letter asking for his old job back with my dad. He was graciously hired on the spot. Oh, he also wore a charming knitted scarf and hat (I made the scarf; Franklin made the hat), but photos of L.B. in his new attire are with Franklin. Hopefully he will share!

Highlight Four: Flying with Pop

Dad is checking the fuel--one of the many pre-flight checklist items.

I popped a couple of Bonine pills and took to the skies again. It is so incredibly neat to take off from mom and pop's BACKYARD!

The brown house behind the three trees is my parents'. At the moment of this photo, we had just taken off! You can't see him 'cause the picture is too small, but Franklin is in the yard taking our picture. He's wearing watermelon boxer shorts. No, you can't zoom in. Sorry.

This must be similar to what Alice saw when she got her first good look at the Looking Glass Country.

On our flight we went over to Sheridan, a local airport not too far from Dad's place. I drew a line on the grass runway where we landed and took off again. There is corn on either side of that runway, and once you land, you can't see over it.

There was more to this visit, like lunch at the airport, for which mother prepared large vats of spaghetti with meatballs (delicious!!), a backyard BBQ with all the neighbors, a trip to the Spaghetti Factory, visiting with an old family friend who was in 7th grade last time I saw him--now he's a real live grown-up, and of course just hanging out with Franklin, mom, and dad. Oh, and looking at some mighty fine and extremely expensive airplanes owned by an totally down-to-earth (ha ha!) guy who sometimes hangs out at Dad's airport. Franklin has those pictures, too. I had a relaxing week, and above all, I am sooooooo happy that mom and dad are happy there. Of course, who wouldn't be? This is the view from their back porch!

Ok, so I know the hanger is going to alter this view dramatically, but then, it will be a hanger! With a plane in it! Dad's very own plane! Yep, it's all good.

What does this look like to you?

2006-07-31T09:53:00.000-04:00

In the comments to my last post, Mel asked, "So what have you been up to with the past three weeks? " Good question. Have I been traveling the world? No. Working out a cure for cancer? Nope. Building a house? Remodeling my bathroom? Taking a course? No, no, and no.

One thing I have been doing is pining over the fact that I knew at least FOUR people who were visiting Hawaii. I try not to be jealous of others, but I get rather green with envy when I know folks who take trips to my beloved isles. I wish them well and lots of fun and safe, happy adventures, but still. I also wish I was there, too.

I had a nice week long visit with my folks in Indianna. Went flying with my dad again. I'll post pics of that in my next post (which will hopefully come along sooner rather than later. No excuse, I tell you! None!). I also taught at a Young Author's Camp at Bowdoin. The camps are associated with the Maine Writing Project (I took the photo on their webpage), of which I am a part. We had a good week, and the kids were great writers, but man, it's weird for me to work with kids in the summer. I usually keep them at rather a distance during July and August. I'm not sure why it's called camp, though, as our sessions were from 8:30 to noon, and had very little of the outdoors involved. Anyhow, it was a pleasant time.

It's been ages since I posted about knitting. I still do that occasionally, you know (both post and knit)! I started a hat when I went to visit my folks in April, and I finished it during my last visit. It ended up being just exactly right for my mom, so I gave it to her. I failed, however, to take pictures. Where was my head!? I'll see if I can get them to send a photo.

I have also started something knew. Can you tell what it is?

Looks like a Portuguese Man o' War when they get washed up on the beach to me. (If you click the link, scroll down for the washed-up-on-the-shore pictures).

Really, it's a sock. Here is a sense of what's coming, by way of color.

This does not at all fit Franklin's idea of good sock yarn color, but as I'm a girl, and kind of a girly-girl at times, I think I can pull it off (though I deplore cute little hearts on my socks or anything else). That is, assuming I finish the darn thing and another one besides.

Before I wrap up this entry, I am proud to present one more image to you. Though it be humble, I think I can safely say...I have my very own yarn stash:

Cute, isn't it?

Dance Party!

2006-07-10T21:40:00.000-04:00

At this moment, I'm in Indiana visiting my folks. I'm having a swell time, and will update on my experience here later. I've even been knitting. I do that sometimes. Really. I swear. BUT...

I've been meaning to post about our 'end of class' belly dance party that took place over a week ago now, but what with this and that, I hadn't gotten to it. So here's the recap and some photos. My teacher, Josie, is the first teacher I went to back in January. She is an amazing spitfire of a woman who is going to med school in the fall, so she's cutting way back on classes. This was sort of a bash to celebrate the end of her spring classes and maybe a little bit of a farewell. We had a delicious potluck, live music from Okbari (a fabulous singing, drum-paying duo), and LOTS of dancing--some solo dancing, but everyone got a chance to have fun. Here is my newest teacher, Adira, who is a BELLY DANCE MACHINE. I love to watch her, as she has incredible control and flexibility. You can see just how much flexibility in the second picture.

A few ladies did a bit of dancing with the veil, and they were great fun to watch.

I wore a hip scarf sent to me by my most excellent and thoughtful brother, and it was exceedingly effective (and highly admired).

I danced, and DANCED, and DANCEDDANCEDDANCED. Soooooo much fun!! Don't I look happy?

Here I am with my belly dance inspirations--Julie, who got me to go to my first class, and Josie, one of the best teachers EVER. Ahhhhh, I can't wait to have another dance party (and take another class...or six.)

We LOVED the bruschetta

2006-07-10T09:57:00.000-04:00

My friends Julie (of archery fame) and Aaron got married this past Saturday, and I have to say the whole wedding adventure was great! I think eveyrone had fun, and I KNOW Julie and Aaron had a blast, so all in all, thumbs up!

The wedding started a little after 4:00 on one of the Casco Bay Lines boats, the Bay Mist. We boarded, and while en route to Peaks Island, the ceremony took place. Aside from the roar of the boat's engines which made hearing the readings a little tricky, the process was lovely--not too long, with a touch of humor, and probably the most beautiful declarations of love I've ever heard (and we could hear them, even with the boat's rumbling). Should I ever need to be publically making some declarations of love, I'm going to have Julie and Aaron write them. (Why would I need to do that? I don't know. I can't really think of a reason as I'm already married. Maybe if Phil and I have a big anniversary party down the line sometime, I'll call on Julie and Aaron to write us a script).

So after the ceremony, we headed upstairs on the boat for appetizers and drinks. A boat with a bar...fun! Of course, a highlight for all of us was the bruschetta. See?

That's Tom, Maureen, and Seth demonstrating their joy over the fabulous bruschetta.

Once we got to Peaks we had a short walk to a lovely picnic area where we had steak, chicken, lobster, or 'vegetarian.' Julie (a vegetarian) is always disappointed in the 'vegetarian' options at events like weddings, so she made her own eggplant parmesian to augment whatever it was the caterers planned to serve. (It IS odd that a guest who wants steak knows he is going to get steak, while a guest who wants 'vegetarian' has absolutely no idea what that is going to be. Turns out, it was stuffed shells. But honestly, I only ate one bite of those because Julie's eggplant parm is out of this world.) Instead of a traditional wedding cake, dessert was blueberry cake--delicious!!!! And lots of charming little desserts and pastries when we got back to the boat. Which is exactly where we went after dinner (and a quick game of volleyball):

Yes, back on the boat we had a most excellent selection of music to dance to while the Bay Mist sailed around in Casco Bay. The view as we left Peaks was particularly swell.

The only flaw with this part of the evening was that it was too short! The music was great and we were all having so much fun, it of course ended too soon. But such is often the case with good times, right? After the boat docked, quite a number of folks headed a few blocks up and over in Portland to get one more round of drinks at the Top of the East, a bar/lounge with a great view high atop the Eastland Park Hotel.

So to Julie and Aaron I again must say congratulations and best wishes. Have fun on your honeymoon, but PLEASE come home from Hawaii! (Oh, who am I kidding? It's hopeless!! Julie is known for making sudden and drastic life changes, and Aaron took his resume with him...Eeep!) Ah, well. There'd be some good in that, too. At least I'd have a place to stay when I make my next trip. Seriously, my dears, awesome wedding. Bon Voyage, or rather, Aloha oe!

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Pop!

2006-07-05T08:46:00.000-04:00

Today is my parents' 37th wedding anniversary. To them I wish the happiest of days and lots of good times in the next year of their life together.

In honor of this special day, I 've decided to do some reflecting about how I'd like to be like my parents. Here is the fruit of my rumination.

Like Momma, I hope to always:
1) be a great cook
2) smile and laugh easily
3) care A LOT for everyone
4) find things that go missing
5) carefully pack more into a car or a box than the skeptical husband standing nearby believes possible

Like Pop, I hope to always:
1) make wonderfully awful puns
2) have a huge, kind heart
3) be master over my computer
4) avoid getting ripped off by an automechanic
5) read the directions before assembling furniture or firing up new electronics

As a couple, I hope my husband and I can be like my folks who are sure to:
1) hold hands often
2) enjoy the mundane tasks of life, so long as they are doing them together
3) be there for each other, no matter what life throws their way
4) support each other's hopes and dreams even if that means sometimes compromising their own wishes
5) make the best of any situation

In the interest of autonomy, I include this list of ways my husband and I are not likely to follow in my parents' footsteps. There is pretty much no chance that we will ever:
1) arrive at the airport more than two hours early
2) install drywall
3) remember to call Tripple A before a roadtrip to request maps
4) have organized closets and cupboards
5) make our bed on a regular basis

But that's ok. My folks still seem to love us, even with all our flaws.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Pop!

Satet, Artemis, and Durga

2006-07-01T17:16:00.000-04:00

My friend Julie is getting married on July 8. Julie is anything but your typical bride-to-be. Her partner (not once has she ever called him her fiancé), Aaron, has planned the wedding. When they registered at Target (it took months to convince Julie that they needed to register somewhere for the sake of traditional family and wedding guests who can't bare to give to Heifer International instead), she came away with flu-like symptoms and hasn't been back since. She planned the honeymoon (a trip to Hawaii) and probably would have skipped the wedding altogether if it weren't for Aaron and his family. Her own mother just keeps saying, "Wow! I can't believe you're actually getting married!" Julie's wedding dress is gold.

Julie has been given no traditional shower, but her girlfriends in New York gave her trapeze lessons.

We friends from Maine weren't sure we could compete with trapeze lessons, but we put our heads together and came up with what turned out to be a really great adventure: archery lessons. We told Julie she'd be accessing her inner goddess. I made her a 'handout' with notes and pictures of Satet, the Egyptian archer goddess of the Nile. You can be sure I put footnotes on the handout (and you can bet Julie read them and questioned their reliability--I knew she would. She's THAT kind of wonderful history teacher).

So off we went on Friday morning to an L.L. Bean walk-on adventure. It was a misty day--not so much like Egypt, but it did have sort of a 'Mists of Avalon' feel to it, so that was good, too. We were the only people in our group, so we had what felt like a private lesson with our guide, Linda. She was great, and so were we when we finally got to start firing off the arrows. I have to tell you, I had visions of my third grade camping trip where my limited experience with archery meant a few arrows that fell far short of the target and an arm that tired out before I even got started.

However, if I have learned anything at all from Julie, it has been to try new things. She has introduced me to all sorts of yummy food (my first taste of salmon was off of her plate), she took me on my first trip to New York City, and of course she has introduced me to belly dance (you all know that CHANGED MY LIFE). I was a very, VERY boring sort of person before I met Julie. I might be just as boring now, but I don't feel so boring to myself, and that's what matters, right?

So here are some pictures from our archery adventure. I believe a good time was had by all!

Here is Julie getting some pointers from Linda. She came around to each of us in turn to help us actually fire off our first arrows.

Here we are all lined up and firing away! (That's Maureen in the purple shirt. She's the one with the baby for whom I knit THE BABY BLANKET.)

When I first saw this picture, I was a little troubled about my middle showing. But then I thought, gosh, I look kind of hot.

My two best shots (plus one). Not bad, eh?

The Dog Days...

2006-06-28T14:37:00.000-04:00

The lady who walks the pups for us at lunch time each day (while we're at work) left a gift for the pooches at the end of the school year. She gave them their very own swimming pool. When the first hot day arrived, we set it up.

We have three pooches, and they all have varying degrees of interest in the pool. Joe Pete has never set one paw inside of it (though the other day he did drink from it, which we considered a very big step for him.) No, he prefers to be one of the bathing beauties--like people who sit by hotel pools in their bikinis or speedos but who never actually go for a swim. Joe Pete is our bathing beauty.

Miss Otis has been in the pool, but she requires much coaxing (or a lift in). The dog walking lady got her to go in for some yummy treats; there isn't much Miss Otis won't try when a good enough snack is involved. But her pool time is limited. Lately, she's had other interests. (See below for more on Miss O's diversions).

Now the superstar of the puppy pool is, not surprisingly, Milton. While he doesn't hop in to sit or wade about on a regular basis, he likes to retrieve things that get tossed into the pool. He will play fetch in and out of the pool most dutifully. Hence, the action sequence you see here.

Milton's had a good time fetching all sorts of things, including tennis balls, ice cubes, leaves and twigs, and no doubt the occasional bug. Sometimes he just jumps in and walks a round to see if there is anything worth fishing out. Maybe he has a little lab in him (I guess it would have to be a very little lab...ha ha!)

So anyhow, the pool is getting some good use. But now about that other diversion that has Miss Otis entranced. It seems we have a chipmunk (or several, but I'd swear it's the same one) that lives in the tree in our dog yard. Catching this chipmunk has become Miss Otis's life's work. She has spent hours each day of the past week sitting up straight in the yard and staring up at the tree (and occasionally at the chipmunk). Once in a while she flies at the tree and jumps at its base while yelping somewhat frantically, but mostly she sits and waits. I'm thinking of naming the chipmunk Godot.

Joe Pete is on the left, Miss Otis on the the right. This was one of Joe Pete's more engaged moments. Miss Otis has spent literally hours in this position staring up into the tree.

Joe Pete finds the running and barking part very exciting and will occasionally join in, but I'm not convinced he totally gets the purpose of it all. He's kind of like the little kid on the baseball team who isn't as invested as the others and can usually be seen in right field picking the clover during the game. Joe Pete starts out engaged, sitting opposite Miss Otis and staring up into the tree, but before long he lies down and begins eating grass...or bark...or bugs. Whatever looks good. The chipmunk, meanwhile, is totally into tormenting Miss Otis. It will climb down the tree, a few feet at a time, and stare back at Miss Otis, just out of reach. The only thing Miss Otis has ever actually caught was a dead mouse (yes, it was dead before she caught it), so the chipmunk is pretty darn safe. It certainly has other ways out of this tree that do not involve going through the dog yard. No, it is toying with my girl. Teasing her. Maybe it isn't Godot. Maybe it's Chip (or Dale).

Miss Otis and Chip (or is it Dale?)

Spinning in Circles

2006-06-23T15:04:00.000-04:00

One of the best things about having a blog is that I have a place to celebrate my accomplishments, toot my own horn, and generally revel in the glow of a project I am proud of. So now I proudly present to you my very own Circle Skirt. Ta-da!!

Ok, so maybe that doesn't seem all that impressive to you, but let me explain. I made it. That is, I found the pattern on line, shopped for the supplies, made the pattern for the pieces, cut out the pieces, and sewed the whole thing together. People, you should know that this is my very first homemade garment EVER (unless you count bedsheet togas, but that's a whole other topic...)

The beauty of this skirt is that it's fun for spinning. Most girls (and probably many boys) LOVE to wear a skirt that's all flowy and spinny. I made it for dancing, as some belly dance variations involve just such a skirt that one can grab hold of and whirl around in. I'm taking a workshop on Saturday that is all about just such a dance style, and so I decided to see about making me the perfect skirt. Plus you can tuck parts of it into the waistband for a multi-leveled and multi-layered look.

What else can I tell you about this beauty? It's BIG. It took almost seven yards of fabric. What's the formula for circumference? C=Pi(d). (Holy Smokes. I remember that from math class in high school). That being the case, the hem of this baby is nearly ten and a half feet around. Thank goodness for this:

I have used my sewing machine before to make Christmas stockings, a needle case for Franklin, and pillow covers for dog beds, but never for any actual clothing. I still have to take out the instruction book to be sure I'm threading the needle properly. My mom bought me this fabulous looking, refurbished sewing machine (Kenmore 1040--there's no date in the manual so I have no idea what year it is) a few years back when I decided to make a quilt. The quilt is still in the "lots of colorful squares" stage, but the skirt? She is finished!

Full of Pride

2006-06-22T09:42:00.000-04:00

The Southern Maine Pride Parade and Festival was last Saturday, and boy! was it a gorgeous day in Portland. Phil was in the parade with a bunch of other legislators, and unlike last year when it rained, I decided to head into town and join in the festivities. I think it's nice that there is a legislative group in the parade carrying a flag and generally having a good time.

I've heard some people say it's more of a political stunt than anything else, but I don't buy that. At all levels of politics, politicians like to dance around divisive issues. If possible, they avoid making a public committment one way or the other even if they actually do have a personal opinion. In the last few local elections, there have been some touchy issues ranging from bear baiting to tax cap proposals, and of course the whole "No one 1: Maine Won't Discriminate" campaign that we WON so that everyone in Maine is protected under civil rights laws. All of these issues had strong proponents on both sides, and many legislators avoided weighing in if they could. I'm proud of Phil for doing his homework and taking a stand on issues that split the state. Not only does he make his position known to anyone who asks, he also acts on his beliefs. He actively campaigned against the tax cap and Question 1. I think taking part in the Pride parade is the same kind of thing. It sends a message to the GLBT community that they have support in the government--maybe not from every legislator, but at least from some who are willing to 'go public' with their beliefs.

The Christian Civic League (poorly named, let me tell you) is a group very much against GLBT rights. This group made a stink about coming out to the parade to film it with the plan of creating a record of public officials who participate. Only about five or so folks from the League showed up, and they were definitely outnumbered and out-glammed. They made their little video and put it on their website, but I really think they look like petulant morons rather than social activists. Actually, most people didn't even notice them, they took up so little space on the sidewalk. One of the legislators said he wasn't planning on coming to the parade because he had some family stuff going on, but when he heard about this video-making stunt, he decided he needed to be there!

Overall, I'd say there was sort of a religious theme to the whole parade. Many religious organizations have decided to show that all Christians aren't in league with the League, and so many churches took part. That was exciting to see.

I have to admit that the Pride parade in Portland isn't nearly as flashy as those in bigger cities. I've seen Franklin's pictures from Chicago Pride, for example, and we just don't match up in the glitz factor. We did have a Queen or two, but most 'floats' were limited to rainbow flags and trucks of people dancing and throwing out whistles and beads. Of course, what we lacked in flash, we certainly made up for in spirit. No complaints here! I think everyone had a great time.

In fact, two of my favorite participants were simple in appearance, but I liked them best (besides Phil, of course):

Proud Beagle.

On the subject of gift giving

2006-06-19T08:24:00.000-04:00

Not so very long ago super blogger Rabbitch found herself in the unpleasant situation of having to donate money for a class gift for her daughter's teacher. For a full discussion of the situation see her entry here (you also might look at the next post after that for the conclusion to the epdisode).

One element of the fall-out from Rabbitch's post was discussion in the comments of what's an appropriate gift for teachers. Some folks said teachers shouldn't be expecting gifts. Lots of folks said a $10 contribution per student was way too much. Some said teachers should get gifts because they spend so much of their own money on supplies for the classroom and students. So I went to a highly authoritative source (ok, so it was dictionary.com) and found this definition of the word gift: Something that is bestowed voluntarily and without compensation. The key part of that statement is, I think, the voluntary part. It isn't exactly voluntary to be pressured into donating $$ for a teacher you aren't even fond of, especially when refusing to donate may go hard with your kid. $10 given grudgingly certainly doesn't fit the 'gift' criteria. And the gift should not be considered payment for services, because then, well, it's not a GIFT. I don't send invoices to the parents of my students detailing how much of my own money goes into our classroom supplies. I do not expect the parents to pay me for such things.

I am glad for many reasons to be the teacher of high school children rather than elementary school children. This gift business is, as far as I'm concerned, a bonus to my situation. There is much less obligatory gift-giving at the high school level. I know plenty of parents send heart-felt thank-you gifts or notes to the teachers of their children, but just as many get sucked into that end-of-the-year, gotta-give-a-gift dilemma. Hence the plethora of coffee mugs with apples and chalkboards on them. High school teachers have very few of these mugs, I'm happy to say. When kids get to high school, they may have as many as six or eight different teachers, and gift-giving tends to fall off somewhat. We are, however, occasionally given gifts by parents or students, but at least as far as I can tell, the gifts tend to come when I've done something that particularly strikes a parent or a child in such a way that they really want to give me something. From parents I have recieved kind words, notes, and (my favorite gift from a mom) a jar of homemade hot fudge. That was just for surviving the year with her son in my class. It was worth it. I often write college recommendations for students, from whom I tend to get a thank-you note. I have also received from students gift cards to Borders, cookies, chocolate bars, and cards. One particularly thoughtful gift was a matted and framed photograph taken by the student on one of his trips abroad. Another was a painting a student had done in art class--a particularly excellent painting that I admired when I saw it in the art show. Once in a while, a student comes up with a real hum-dinger of a gift, and it's nothing the mother who collects $10 from each kid could ever produce. Last year I got a book filled with funny things I had said during class and carefully copied down by one of my students (I blogged about it here). This year I got another great gift. It seems I have let on to my students my utter infatuation with Johnny Depp (could be that I have his picture on the wall by my desk). On the last day of school, three kiddos stopped in to give me this:

Isn't that great? And totally personal and thoughtful. The card reads, "Thank you so much for a great year. We are so glad that we had the priviledge of being in your English class. You are a great teacher. We all know how much you love Jonny Depp, so we got you something! Love, Kirsten, Peter, and Callie." While I know the whole class didn't chip in to buy me a new DVD player (or whatever $200 would get--most alarming!), I'll take this card and t-shirt over a more expensive gift any day.

Success!

2006-06-13T19:36:00.000-04:00

Well, my first ever belly dance performance went off well. We were early in the show, so we got to get out there quick and then enjoy the rest of the performances. My group did a great job, and I don't think anyone forgot any of the steps. All that rehearsing paid off.

I managed to get the make-up on thick enough to meet my teacher's demands, but I sadly did not take a good close-up picture of the painted me. In fact, I pretty much failed to photographically document the whole event, but I did get someone to take a group shot of us.

Can you pick me out of this crowd? (Hint: I'm not the pregnant one, though she is wearing my hip scarf). My friend who came to see the show gave me grief because I didn't show my belly.

Maybe next time...

A Good Time Was Had By All

2006-06-13T19:17:00.000-04:00

No one could have guessed we were in the middle of a final exam.

In my elective class this spring, I was lucky to have a really great group of students. Seems that every other year I get a good batch in this particular course. While technically the class is a literature elective, we do a lot of different kinds of activities, not all of them related to the traditionalist's view of literature. I generally don't give tests in the class, and sometimes there aren't even quizzes. That makes the concept of a final exam particularly inappropriate for the course, but the school more or less requires that all courses have a final, so my final this spring was to have the four remaining students in the class (the rest were seniors who graduated this past Sunday), teach something. I know, I know. That isn't very lit. based, but you know what? I don't really care. The kids in this course are not often overly motivated by the whole school concept, and I often think it's unfair that for the kids who don't fit the 'school' mode, most classes are no fun and not interesting at all. This particular group (for the most part) did an awesome job with the reading and writing work of the course, and so I decided that since I had a group strong in areas outside the traditional school lines, I'd give them a chance to share something they're good at. And let me just say, they were amazing.

I knew something strange was afoot on Friday when I gave the students the class period to work on their teaching plans. This has been a very workshop-ish class all along, so the workday was a normal concept, but honestly, I figured it was the last day of classes and I'd be happy if I got a few minutes of good work out of the kids. Much to my surprise, all four of them worked steadily all period--looking up info on the web, mapping out the steps to their lessons, making arrangements with other teachers to borrow handouts or supplies. They even asked me lots of questions about their demonstrations. The exam periods are one hour and thirty minutes. I told the kids they needed to plan a fifteen minute lesson, and that would be just fine. When one of the students asked me, "can we have more than fifteen minutes? The period's an hour and a half, right, so there's time?" I nearly fell out of my chair. A second kid agreed that he could use the extra time.

On Monday, the lessons took place. Here are the things I learned: how to hold a guitar, strum it, and play two chords. I also learned that the teacher of this lesson is an amazing guitarist. I kind of knew it from all the papers he wrote on the subject, but it was awesome to actually hear him play. Another lesson was about drawing. I learned specifically about shading, and I learned some details about how to draw a face. I also saw great artwork from the student doing the presentation (as well as artwork belonging to her boyfriend). The third student taught us all the American Sign Language alphabet, how to do double letters, how to say "How are you?" "Good Morning," "Good afternoon," and "What's up?" I even got help developing a sign for my name. Very exciting. The last lesson (which was actually the first, but it was my favorite so I saved it for last) taught us how to install a sound system in a car. This lesson impressed me the most because the student had created a well-done poster of the way the components of the system connect to each other, had brought into the class an amp, cables, a CD player, etc. etc. to show us, told us about the various costs of such systems, and then took us outside to see the system he had himself installed in his truck. The lesson was well-prepared and thoughtful, and he did a great job fielding questions from us. I came away from that lesson wanting a system for my Subaru and a new truck. Turns out I have this secret desire (I guess it's not so secret now) to drive a monster truck. What do you think that means? Anyhow, the whole experience was great, and everyone had a good time sharing their knowledge. I love learning from my students. They know so much more than we tend to give them credit for.

And that was one easy final exam to grade!

Oh speak again, bright angel!

2006-06-05T17:57:00.000-04:00

One of my 9th grade classes spent last Monday reciting lines from Romeo and Juliet. I've done this assignment for the past three years, and I just LOVE recitation day. The kids did a pretty darn good job, too. I scare them a little by talking about the failure rate of the first group to get the assignment. The first year, all but two kids completely bombed the assignment, so we called that a dress rehearsal and re-examined exactly what it takes to truly con some lines. The kids realized that stage fright makes poorly memorized lines disappear all together. For the past two years I've invited students from previous years to come in and recite their lines. This year I had three kids (two juniors and one sophomore) come in. I'm so pleased that they still remember their lines! THAT'S good memorizing. I encourage everyone to learn their lines so that they can say them in double-time, and I find that when kids do that, they can slow them down nicely and get a good grade. This year, only one kid out of 21 did a truly poor job (and his history teacher told me that he was trying to memorize his lines during the period before my class while taking an essay exam for her). That's a good record!

I tend to teach Romeo and Juliet in the spring in at least two if not three of my classes. I taught it in all three 9th grade classes this year, and now if someone asks me a question, I'm inclined to answer with a line from the play. Fortunately for everyone around me, I can usually control this urge and suppress it. At a faculty meeting recently, however, a colleague pointed out to me something that just wasn't right in a report we were reviewing. I told him to bring it up to the whole group. Of course, what I actually said was, "Quarrel, I will back thee." As most folks on the faculty don't have nearly the entire play committed to memory, I generally just receive quizzical looks.

Ay me!

Update...yes, I'm still here

2006-06-04T09:35:00.000-04:00

Hey. So I want to keep this blog going, if for no other reason than for the writing exercise it provides me. I'm not doing such a good job, though. My hope is that summer allows me to pick it up again in a more timely fashion. I wrote pretty regularly once I started it last summer...
It's all about committment, right? Thanks for the kind words from the folks who seemed to miss me in my absence!

I wish I could report that I haven't written because I've been living a life jam-packed with excitement and fun, but I can't. On the flip-side, at least it hasn't been misery and woe keeping me from the keyboard. Nope. Just ho-hum existance. I try to teach my kids that the stuff of everyday life can make for good writing material. I just need to take that advice to heart more often.

So, what's new with me?

Let's see--we did not float away when all the rain came to Maine (it did NOT stay on the plain, let me just tell you. Woah. I just had one of those weird moments of realization, when it dawns on you that something you've thought for a very long time was WRONG. For years I've imagined those lyrics--the ones about the rain in Spain--being about planes. As in, the rain in Spain stays mainly in the airplane. I always thought that was totally bizarre, but I could get a sureal sort of visual and so I let it be. Just at this very moment when I decided to write the line down, it dawned on me that the word is 'plain' not 'plane' and that it is so much less interesting, though decidedly more logical, that way. Now that I think more on it (and do a little research) I find that My Fair Lady takes place in 1912, when airplanes were still rather in the early stages. It would have been highly unlikely, not to mention totally illogical, for Prof. Higgins to use lines about planes in his elocution lessons. Jeeze. All these years....)

What on earth was I writing about? Oh yeah, the rain. We had SOOOOO much rain. A pond formed in our back yard and ducks took up residence. I didn't take pictures this year, but I took some last year when this happened, though it happened much earlier last year and as a result of rain and snowmelt rather than just rain. I'd like to post the pictures from last year, but blogger appears to be on a long-term photo-posting-difficulty blitz. Gah!

Anyhow, when the water in the backyard gets high enough, it crosses the property line and extends into the neighbor's yard, and at some point encroaches on their garden. Well, they were not impressed about our water getting into their yard (like we own the rain), and I got a call from the neighbor asking if I would consider pumping the water out of my yard. Apparently previous owners did this. We did not. As soon as the rain stopped, the water went down. When discussing the whole affair with my father he said next they'd expect us to collect the leaves from our trees that land in their yard come fall. Honestly, the rule of thumb in Maine about gardening is wait until after Memorial Day to plant. It's not my fault if mother nature didn't approve of their early planting.

Ok, so we're drying out (sort of--it rained all weekend and has been drizzly today. This after a nice dry stretch). What else has been going on?

My very LYS is closing. :( I did spend more money than I probably ought to have the other day at the buy-one-get-one-at-half-off sale. Especially considering that I haven't knit anything since my trip to Indiana. (Ok, not quite true. I started a hat on that trip and have since added a few rounds to it. But THAT'S it.) Kind of like my blogging, I hope my knitting picks up in the summer.

So what's been consuming my days? School, of course. We've got til Thursday, June 15. This is the last week of classes (woo hoo!) and next week is exams. I tend to like exam week. I like when the schedule is unusual. Kids just come for their exams, and there are two a day. Unfortunately most of mine are scheduled towards the end of the week, so that means crazy grading at the last minute. I don't intend to be at school on Friday, June 16, though many teachers will take that day to finish things up. Not me!

I've also been continuing with my belly dance classes. I'm four weeks in to my first intermediate class (meets on Wednesdays) and it's kicking my butt. I just finished up aTuesday night class, though this Wednesday is the Spring Studio Show, and I'll be performing for the first time. (YIKES!) I'm in a group ensemble, and we're on stage for a whopping two minutes of a two hour show, but let me just say, that's plenty of time. I'm excited of course, but mostly that's because I'm one of the few in the group who can remember all of the choreography. That's not saying too much--it's pretty darn simple. Anyhow, it should be a good time. I'll admit in the private pages of this blog, however, that my biggest fear is that I have to wear make-up. Heavy make-up. Otherwise, I've been informed, I won't have a face according to the audience. I know this. I've been in plays before, but I've always had someone to supply and put the make-up on me. I'm just not a general make-up user. I've only recently (and I'm 30!!!) begun wearing mascara, lipstick, and a touch of blush at evening functions. The mascara is hidden behind the rims of my glasses, and the lipstick and blush are so light they've usually faded before I even get to wherever it is I'm going. But for this show I need to wear HEAVY eyeliner. I'm terrified. I've been practicing the application, sort of, but tonight's the night I need to master it. Tomorrow night is the dress rehearsal. I also bought an eye-lash curler. Eeep! If you don't hear from me in a month, you'll know what did me in.

Well, I guess I'd better get on with the make-up practice. I should also practice the dance now that I've jinksed myself by telling you I know it.

I'll post pictures of the backyard pond and ducks as soon as blogger gets the photo feature working again.

Wish me luck!

April Vacation

2006-05-03T17:22:00.000-04:00

Ok, so here's a little recap of my spring break (from way back in the middle of April!). It began Friday night as I flew off to Virginia. At the airport while waiting for my flight, I had a glass of wine at the little cafe/pub and started the newest Amelia Peabody mystery, Tomb of the Golden Bird. If you have not read an Amelia Peabody mystery and like the idea of an independent, funny British woman from the turn of the 18th and 19th centuries who solves murder mysteries and still makes time for tea and cucumber sandwiches, do check out Crocodile on the Sandbank, the first in the series. I am hooked. The author is Elizabeth Peters. Ok, where was I? Wine with Amelia, then I finished that handwarmer I started in January. Not a bad way to pass the hour and a half or so I had to wait.

Once in Virginia I was treated to dinner at the Metro 29 diner, my parents' favorite eatery. I relished my Chicken Brochette, as I probably won't find myself near the Metro 29 again anytime soon, as the folks' move to Indiana is near complete.

Early next morning we headed to Granny's in Pennsylvania. In my usual brainless way, I forgot to take a picture of my grandmother, but did snap one of the lamb-shaped Easter butter.

Where ARE my priorities? Gah. Anyhow, we had a nice Easter dinner on Saturday night, and Dad and I headed to Indiana on Sunday after church.

Going to Indiana involved hauling a trailer which I had never done before. I felt very accomplished (though to be fair, the truck did most of the work. I like driving trucks.). We made it to Kokomo and got the trailer and truck parked in the garage before a massive rainstorm hit. Very exciting. Fortunately, we did not see any of the tornadoes the folks on the news prepared us to look out for (mom prepared us, too, even though she was back in Virginia. My whole family--except maybe Franklin--has a weakness for the weather chanel). Ah, the midwest.

What did we do in Indiana? Oh, a little of this, a little of that. I ran errands with dad (had to work out plans for water treatment at the house), and mostly I sat on the back porch looking towards the runway and reading or knitting (I cast on for a new hat--I needed to be able to talk and knit at the same time). Unfortunately because of the rain, the runway saw little use during my visit, though on the last evening, one of the local pilots went up and did some loops an rolls right above us--like a private air show just for us. Very cool. Oh, and dad went by several times on the riding lawn mower. He was a man in his glory, let me tell you.

My job on the trip was to photograph mom's flowers, as she won't get there until the spring bulbs have done their thing and begun to fade.

And of course we did something very important under the guise of going into Indianapolis to scope out mom's future workplace. We ate at the Spaghetti Factory. I was most satisfied.

Another highlight? We took a trip to a local alpaca farm.

I am developing quite a weakness for alpacas. I have never seen so many in one place as I did at Kesling Alpacas of Indiana. I also have never seen them shorn the way they were (though I'll admit, I haven't actually seen that many alpacas). Several of them obligingly lined up for a photo.

There were three different enclosures, two of which were large pastures, all dotted with alpacas of various sizes and colors, plus the occasional llama. Truly, it was a sight to behold.

On Thursday we drove back to Pennsylvania for a reprise with Granny, then back to Virginia on Friday for a final day with mom. A highlight of that final day was dinner at the Lebanese Taverna with mom, dad, and Auntie Marie whose picture I DID remember to take. I got smarter as the trip went on.

Saturday I returned home to find a final surprise of my vacation. Phil picked me up at the airport in this:

This is not the car I left behind. This is my dream car--the Subaru Outback with the panel behind the back seat to turn the back compartment into a traveling pen for the pooches. They, too, were there at the airport to pick me up. I was blown away. All I brought Phil was some pita bread from the Lebanese Taverna (it's REALLY good) and a bit of chocolate.

All in all, I had a most awesome break.

Tonight I began my latest belly dance adventure: an intermediate/advanced class. It kicked me right in the shimmy. More on that later, maybe? This will have to do for now.

Quick Post

2006-04-30T10:48:00.000-04:00

Ack! I have every intention of being more faithful to this blog than I am. I'm just not sure where the days go!

I had a great vacation in Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Indianna visiting my parents and my grandmother. I'd like to post about that trip, but I don't have enough time at the moment. Soon, I hope! There is a hafli (bellydancing celebration/party/performance sort of event--no, I'm not perfomring. Not yet!) this afternoon that I'm going to, and I have errands to do beforehand.

But I thought I'd post to say I'm still alive and to finally show you the green leafy scarf I finished a few weeks ago and gave to Peg, dyer of the blue veil.

So here it is:

I'm really quite pleased with it.

I also finished the second handwarmer (fingerless glove) that I started during the superbowl (yeah, back in January). I started a new hat for me while on my trip, but haven't been back to it since I got home. Sigh. I still need a hat to replace my first hat--the one the dogs ate. Still need to make Phil's special hat, too.

I think what took me so long with the green leafy scarf is that it required some concentration--more than I usually have time to give. Hats are to me what socks are to some others. I can work on a hat anytime and while having conversation. And I love hats. I look darn cute in hats. Friends need hats. Yes, there can never be enough of them. So that's why I started another one.

Ok, gotta go. I will endeavor to write again before another two weeks pass by!

Gifted

2006-04-14T09:44:00.000-04:00

Yes, the green leafy scarf is done and…gifted. No, the scarf itself is not especially talented. It cannot play piano of prepare baked Alaska. It does a remarkable job, however, keeping one’s neck warm on these chilly spring evenings. What I mean by gifted is that I gave it to a friend of mine (the one who helped me dye my veil that luscious shade of sky blue) as a thank-you. It just so happens that she is a teacher for the gifted/talented set, and she is applying for a job in my district. I wish her luck! It would be great to know someone else at the middle school, and with gas prices what they are these days, it would be nice to carpool!

I would like to show you a picture or two of the green leafy scarf, and I even took them and sized them for posting and everything, but I ran out of time at home, and now I’m at school and can’t post the pictures. I’ll have to do it next week when I get home from my April vacation.

Yes, one of the perks of being a teacher is the week off in April, and I am heading to the D.C. area right after school today to see my folks, and then I’m driving with dad to Indiana for a few days to take care of some stuff at their house there. My parents have sold their condo in Virginia, dad’s last day of work is today, and Mom just got a job offer in Indy and will be heading west sometime in May. The time has come. Ooomph. It’s still wacky that they will be living in the Midwest, but what can I do?

I’ll tell you what I can do. I can eat at the Spaghetti Factory.

The Spaghetti Factory (for those who don’t know it) is a chain restaurant located mostly on the west coast with some additional locations headed east. I didn’t know it was a chain when we first discovered it in Hawaii (there was only one in the state), and as a kid it was one of my favorite places to eat. Then one day I figured out it was a chain when I noticed all the cities marching around the edge of the paper placemat (it’s a classy place). That made me feel better when we had to move from Hawaii. Surely it would turn up in my future cities of residence.

Sadly, it did not. No Spaghetti Factory in Boston (there was one once, but it closed. It couldn’t compete with the North End). No Spaghetti Factory in Maine. Nor in D.C. Nor in Chicago. I was, to say the least, crushed. I even went to their website and wrote them an email asking if they had plans to expand to say…Maine. No plans exist at the present time. I realize this fascination with a chain restaurant is perhaps slightly foolish, as there are plenty of excellent places to get pasta and sauce, but you know we all have our likes and dislikes, rational or not, and the Spaghetti Factory is one of my passions. On trips to Hawaii (few and far between), dinner (and maybe lunch sometimes, too) at the Spaghetti Factory is mandatory. My husband thought it was an awfully long way to go to eat at a chain Italian place, but he doesn’t share my love for their spaghetti with meat sauce and salad with creamy pesto dressing. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Sigh.

Well, you can bet that as soon as my shock subsided into a dull thud upon learning that my folks were moving to Indiana, I looked it up and Indianapolis has a Spaghetti Factory! Woo hoo! We tried it out on my last visit, and you know what? It was delicious. Exactly as I remembered it. That, my friends, is the beauty of the chain.

Tools of the trade

2006-03-30T16:52:00.000-05:00

Well..it's been so long, I have much to say!

Last Sunday was Maine Maple Sunday in Maine. That's a mouthful, literally, and I'm talking about a mouthful of delicious maple syrup! The fourth Sunday of March, every year, is maple sunday, and maple-product-producing farms open up for folks to come in, get free samples, see the sugar house in operation, and buy lots o' maple-related products. We bought syrup from two farms, plus cheese, one maple smoked, the other just delicious cheddar. Our favorite farm to visit is called Merrifield Farm (doesn't appear to have a website). They provide a most delicious pancake breakfast, over which you can pour as much of their top-notch syrup as you like. Here's Phil enjoying his oh so yummy, syrup-soaked breakfast. The smoke in the background is not coming from the sugar house, though that was up and running, bubbling the maple tree sap away into liquid gold. No, that smoke is from a demo the farm puts on to show how the syrup used to be made, back in the day. Like this:

Lyle Merrifield (top dog at the farm) says this method doesn't actually produce very good syrup, what with how long it takes and with bits o' the outdoors flying into the vats of boiling liquid. But it was still pretty neat to see (plus, on years when it's really cold, this is the display you want to stand close to while you eat your free samples).

Another benefit to Maple Sunday at Merrifield is that it is a working farm, so you can walk around and see the farm animals (read: sheep!!)

Aren't they cute? They were most obliging for the camera.

Here are some maple-related facts for your reading pleasure:

1. It takes about 40 gallons of sap to make 1 gallon of syrup.
2. The 'syrup' you buy in the store (like Log Cabin and Aunt Jemima) has between 0 and 2% actual maple syrup.
3. Maple syrup tastes brilliant on vanilla ice cream.

I learn these three facts every single year, yet I always forget and am always shocked.

So that was last Sunday morning. Very enjoyable. I highly recommend some REAL maple syrup and a vat of vanilla ice cream. You should go get some when you finish reading this blog. Seriously.

Ok, so what else is going on?

I should have begun with this as it is so very, very exciting. I recently received a most pleasant package in the mail. Well, to be honest, the package itself was nothing special. Just your run-of-the-mill brown envelope, hand-addressed. But the contents, my friends, were wonderful. The ever-clever and most wonderful Rabbitch sent me:

Three super-soft and lovely balls of yarn, a perfectly charming dishcloth (you should have heard how polite it was when I removed it from the ziplock bag), and stitch markers. Real Rabbitch Stitchmarkers! I feel like I have arrived. I kid you not. They are lovely, and I can't wait to put them to use! I'm excited and nervous about the yarn, as it is finer than anything I've ever knit with before, so it will move me in a new knitting direction. That's funny, when you consider that I don't appear to be moving in any knitting direction at the moment. I do occasionally write about knitting on this blog, or at least I used to. But fear not, I have indeed been knitting. On the green leafy scarf. Yes. Still. But the end is in sight, I think. And tonight I'm going to my local coffee shop for the weekly knit night. This is my first go since it switched to Thursdays and became a more organized event. I am ever so excited. I'm desperate to finish the scarf! Pictures will come when it is complete.

And finally, in belly dancing news, I have begun an additional class. Most exciting. I really can't get enough. I even practice at home, and that says a lot. I'm one of those people with lots of good intentions but limited actions. Not, however, in the belly dancing arena. I actually practice all the time rather than just saying I'm going to do so. Here are the various belly-dancing-related items I have managed to gather (not including three skirts and an increasing selection of arabic music):

You see here my hip scarf riddled with jingly silver coins, my zils (finger cymbals), three books about belly dancing (see? I'm doing research. This is serious), my journal, and of course my lovely veil.

Are these not beautiful items? The books, in case you are interested, are Snake Hips byAnne Thomas Soffee, Bellydance by Keti Sharif, and Grandmother's Secrets: The Ancient Rituals and Healing Power of Belly Dancing by Rosina-Fawzia Al-Rawi.

I have much more to say, less about material posessions and more about this knitting, belly dancing, funky-earing wearing person I'm becoming (ok, the earings aren't really all that funky--I'll explain later). But it's almost time to knit, and I'm not about to cut into that.

At first it seemed like just another political dinner

2006-03-19T19:00:00.000-05:00

With Phil's second campaign starting up these past couple of months, the demands on his time are once again increasing. He's always a busy guy, but now he's working at a law firm, working at the state house, and running for re-election. That's a lot to ask of anybody. I don't make it to most events with Phil, but yesterday evening I did go to one. I vaguely remember him asking me awhile back if I wanted steak, fish, or the vegetarian dish for some dinner or other. Last week I was reminded that we had a dinner to attend on Saturday, and my big question was "what did I pick to eat?" I no longer fret about what to wear (it's not worth the effort), nor worry about whom we'll talk to. There was a time when I thought how I looked made some sort of big impact on Phil's success, and oddly enough that coincided with the fact that we knew almost no one, and trying to make small talk with strangers and wriggle into conversation with the 'important folks' was the big and exhausting challenge.

Anyhow, last night we got dolled up for dinner (I don't fret, but I do still try to look nice) and headed out. I was happy to learn that this particular event had a silent auction. I love silent auctions. I also was sort of familiar with the whole organization behind the event, Equality Maine (EQME), a group involved for the past many years in making Maine a good place for ALL people to live. I hadn't exactly forgotten that 2005 was a BIG year for EQME and the LGBT set, what with the new civil rights law that was passed and upheld, and this dinner was pretty much a celebration all about the law, but I wasn't exactly focused on that fact either. I mean, I couldn't remember what I'd ordered for dinner. My curiosity consumed me.

The event reminded me (about the importance of the new law...and what I'd ordered). This turned out to be one of my favorite events that Phil's political career has landed us at. Over 600 people attended this dinner to celebrate a law that had been in the making for the past 28 years. 28 years!! Woah. And Phil got to be one of the senators who voted for it, helped it pass, and fought for it when a peoples' veto attempted to kill it dead. That's history, people. And my darlin' helped make it. I know he was just one wee fellow in a big crowd of supporters (hey, even I got to cast my vote against the veto), and the dinner recognized many of the key players (and there were many), but still. I think that's a mighty fine thing to be part of in one's first year ever as an elected official. Plus, it was a nice reminder that w no longer have to struggle to find folks to talk with at these big social events. Phil has worked hard in Augusta, and people are happy to talk to him when they see him, often telling me what a great job he's doing (I know that already, but it's always nice to hear!).

The only...mildly unpleasant...part of the evening was that we shared our table with a senator who voted NO on the bill! She was there because she and another senator had made a bet that depended on who won some ball game. I don't know. She lost and had to come to the EQME event, whereas if the other guy had lost, he'd have had to go to an NRA dinner. It all seemed sort of trivial for what turned out to be a pretty momentous celebration. But she left early, so that was something. What was ALSO something (and this time I mean something wonderful) was being surrounded by so many great people. It was truly awesome to see couples of all sorts at this dinner, couples who could be themselves with their partners. I actually felt like I was part of an elite group, in a way. A group of people who GET IT. Equality is for EVERYONE. It's too bad that's sort of an elite group and not the way of the masses, but at least this past year was a step (a BIG step) in the right direction. And a majority of folks in Maine saw the light enough to uphold the law.

Another highlight of the night was that as we were heading out, I heard someone say, "Sister Sue!" I turned and found myself face to face with Mel and his partner, David! I just adore the world of blogging. It was very cool to meet someone whose blog I read and who reads mine! He even asked after Miss Otis--very thoughtful! And as if meeting Mel weren't enough, I won the one item I bid on in the silent auction: fabulous alpaca socks from Red Maple Sportware...David's company!! How cool is that? I had no idea there was blog connection when I bid on the socks. I just know quality knitware when I see it, I guess!

So 'just another political dinner' turned out to be a pretty great night. It would be fun to see and chat with Mel and David again. We just had a quick exchange at the end of the dinner which, though fun, was certainly LONG. Hey, lots of folks deserved to be recognized!

Oh, and in case you were wondering, I had very yummy cheese torellini--the vegetarian dish.

dancing, knitting, etc. etc.

2006-03-16T13:48:00.000-05:00

I am officially a belly dance junkie. I just sent in my registration for another class, and I'm more excited than I probably should be about the fact that my new class starts before my current class ends, and so I'll be in TWO classes at the same time, meaning I'll get to dance TWICE a week instead of just once a week with a group of people. I really am addicted. I just got a Belly Dance DVD (thank you, Netflix, for having "Belly Dance Superstars"), and it is incredibly fun to watch and learn from, though it is a bit tacky. The women are still amazing in their dancing capabilities. I am trying to avoid the "Fitness dance" approach, and instead am actually trying to study HOW to belly dance. There are lots of exercise videos out there, but that's not what I want. I'll admit, though, that my abs are still benifiting from this experience.

I am STILL knitting on the green leafy-looking scaf. It is coming along very well, but with a maximum of 8 rows knit per sitting, it's going to take me all year. No. I'm going to finish it this weekend. I swear. I'll post a picture soon. I think the complexity of the pattern is what slowed me down. The pattern actually isn't difficult, but for me it's the most complicated I've done. I could work quickly on it when I sat down to do just that, but if I wanted to talk to people at the same time, I couldn't do it. And rather than start another project, I just wouldn't knit. Stupid. I can't help it. I seem to be a practitioner of monogomous knitting. At least now I've got the patterned memorized and can actually work on it while talking with other people, so maybe that will help.

I still need to wash Phil's yarn for his hat. I have the directions all printed out and ready to go, and I have the soap, and I have a sink and water and everything. I just need to follow through and DO IT. (Come to think of it, the puppies need baths, too.)

I'd also like to find a pattern for a hat I saw on a dancer at the club we went to in NYC. I don't even know how to describe it. I just liked it. That's what I want to make with my Lorna's Laces purchase. I suppose I need to find a way to describe it, so maybe people could help me find a pattern! It's like a regular hat, except it's much...longer? And so instead of fitting snuggly and taking the shape of the head, it sort of droops back. I don't know. That sounds very weird. I'll work on it.

I've been wearing my Ruana at school. So nice! It was warm enough that I could wear it outside between the buildings last week, but we're back to real coats again this week. Come on, Spring! I've also been getting a lot of use out of my rainbow scarf--my first real project. I just adore it.

Miss Otis got her staples out yesterday. The vet had this funky staple-remover tool and just popped them out. Miss Otis didn't even seem all that put out by the process. Most amazing.

I guess that's the latest. I just feel like I want to do too much all at once. I want to read, write, knit, dance, listen to music, study Arabic, learn sign language, etc. etc. etc. Oh, and be a good teacher who makes exciting plans and grades papers in a timely fashion!

Ha ha! I'm so funny! I just crack myself up. Sigh.

I can't quite call this a happy ending...

2006-03-10T17:11:00.000-05:00

The rottie who attacked my dogs is no more. She was put down on Tuesday. The owner (who I already told you was a nice guy), came by with a check for the vet bill, an apology, and the wish to let us know that we shouldn't feel afraid to walk by his house (from fear of dogs or from fear of having to face the neighbors themselves). He was very kind, and I was very sad, as he had to give up a part of his family that, aside from attacking my dogs, truly was a good and gentle pet. You might disagree with that, but though I believe dogs are not really very much like humans, I do think they share with us one thing for certain: few people and few dogs are truly ALL bad or ALL good.

The neighbor did not regret his decision about his dog, and he was very kind to my three who showered on him much loving attention when he came in. He, too, feared some future danger to other pets or worse, a neighbor. He did not think his dog would maliciously attack a person, but he worried that she could cause too much fear or an awful accident. She had been getting out of their yard more and more, and they were very stressed out about what to do with her.

So that ends the saga. Miss Otis is healing well. Her fur is starting to grow back in, and we have an appointment to have her staples removed next week. She is as feisty as ever. As I write I can see her through the kitchen window; she is sitting on the back porch looking out over our fence, ready to dart after some bird or squirrel that she can't possibly catch. Milton is eager to get out there and play with her, and she is back to the point where she can take his playful tumbling and jumping. If I don't open the door soon, he's going to rip the bell he keeps ringing off the wall.

I'm lucky that all three of my pooches are well. Thanks to all for the kind words and best wishes for Miss O.

Pooch update and New Passion

2006-03-03T18:25:00.000-05:00

Miss Otis is doing very well. She still looks quite beat up, but she is behaving much more like her usual self. She just jumped up on her box. She probably is not supposed to do that (Joe Pete, who is in the box, would agree), but she must feel well enough to do it, and I don't know how I'd keep her from jumping up there. Like I said last time, it's tough to keep a beagle still! She certainly has her usual appetite and attitude!

Still waiting to hear from the Animal Control Officer. A few folks commented that I shouldn't feel bad and that I need to do something about the dangerous dog. I do intend to see this through, as I certainly agree that something must be done, but that doesn't stop me from feeling bad for the owners. I don't feel sorry as in "oh, I'm hurting them in some way." No, no. What I mean is, I feel sad, I guess, that they will have to make a pretty serious decision about their dog, which is, as far as I'm concerned, a member of their family. That is very sad even if it comes as a result of their negligence. If I had to get rid of/put down one of my dogs, I'd be crushed, but that wouldn't stop me from doing it if it were necessary. I just don't see how I can be a dog owner and lover and not feel sympathy for other dog owners. This is not to say they didn't screw up in some way. It's all just very unfortunate all the way around.

Ok, enough about that for the moment. I'll post how it all turns out when something new develops.

Knitter friends...fear not. I am still enjoying my knitting. Granted, I don't do it often, but I'm not doing much of ANYTHING very OFTEN, though I seem to be doing lots of things a little bit. I've been reading (Eragon), grading papers, teaching (Oedipus Rex and The Odyssey), blogging (obviously), and...bellydancing! That is certainly my latest passion. I cannot tell you how much I am enjoying my classes. As I mentioned, Julie and I got hip scarves on our trip to New York. We also need veils for the class, so I bought a plain white one from the instructor. I have since dyed it a most beautiful shade of blue. I had a lovely day with a neighbor who is into and skilled at fabric painting, and she very graciously helped me out. My first taste of how truly beautiful the veil came out was when we hung it on the line to dry in my neighbor's back yard.

I've decided I now have my very own piece of the sky. I didn't think one could own a piece of sky, but clearly I do.

Now, as for using the veil, we just started that at the last class on Monday. It is a BIG piece of fabric. It is very easy to step on, though it is so light you don't necessarily realize you've stepped on it. But oh my goodness is it ever beautiful when it is floating through the air! Gorgeous, I tell you. You can also see my hip scarf in one of the pictures.

I have been practicing as often as I can, which is to say not as often as I want to, but at least a few times a week. The music I bought in New York is wonderful. I practice in my red room, which is just on the other side of the gate that keeps the pups in the kitchen, so I have a captive (tee hee!) audience.

Next class we start using zils, or finger cymbals. Most excellent.

Trouble in Poochville

2006-03-02T11:29:00.000-05:00

Well, I guess I'm a sucker. I try to think the best of people (and their pets), but that has turned out to be a problem. Remember the rottweiler who put a hole in my litte dog, Milton? He has struck again, and he has done a number on my baby girl beagle, Miss Otis. She's going to be ok, but her wounds make Milton's look like just a scratch.

My dogwalker was once again the unfortunate human faced with a most unpleasant encounter. The rottie came at them (all four of them--Nancy and three dogs), and my dog walker scooped up Milton immediately for fear of a repeat performance. Well, the rottie went after Miss Otis instead with Milton out of reach. No doubt Miss Otis showed her own spunk (Nancy said she fought back like a beast), while Joe Pete did his little crouch down move that tends to render him invisible to other dogs. It was not pretty, from what I gather, and as Nancy called for help, several elderly folks poked their heads out of their doors and asked what they could do. (And what COULD they do? Not many folks would charge into a situation with a rottweiler at the center, especially one who's tossing around a beagle like a football). So Nancy had them call the police, and she doesn't remember how, but she ended up holding the rottie's collar. (This woman is amazing). A neighbor drove down, and a man stopped to help, and the daughter of the people who own the rottie came out (the owers are on vacation). The daughter could apparently barely hang on to the dog as she dragged her back into the house, and Milton ended up in the neighbor's car for safe keeping. Miss Otis limped home and got a swift ride to the vet where she was knocked out, cleaned up, and stapled up. She looks like Frankenstein's dog at the moment. I'm home today to keep an eye on her.

I've also talked with the animal control officer twice, given him the vet bill, and he's waiting for the owners of the rottie to return later today. Depending on the owners' take on the situation, our options are to have our local ACO charge them with a 'dog at large' and 'dangerous dog' summons. The hard thing about all of this is that the rottie's owners are nice people (there's the sucker in me again), and the dog is (aside from his dislike of my puppy family) sweet. Of course, I keep coming back to the fact that it simply cannot be dangerous to take a walk in our neighborhood, and something must be done. What exactly? Not sure. I need to wait until I hear back from the ACO.

So...we're hanging out today, taking it easy, maybe knitting a little. (Ok, I'll knit; Miss O can sleep.) She isn't allowed to run around in the backyard which is making her (and me) unhappy, but we have gone out front for a quick stroll around the yard. She acts like she wants to play a little sometimes, but then she gets tired. Poor dear. It's tough to keep a beagle still (and it's tougher to get Milton to understand that he can't be the center of attention at the moment). At least Joe Pete is doing all the right comforting things for his little sister. Sigh. What sweethearts. They don't deserve such troubles.

Country Girl Goes to the Big City...and Likes it

2006-02-22T16:14:00.000-05:00

Another first! I have finally made a trip to New York City. I'm not sure how I managed to avoid going there having lived on the East Coast for about eleven years now. Franklin has always raved about the place, and I sort of expected I'd end up there with him some time, but it just never worked out right. Then the idea of going became this BIG, COMPLEX, CONFUSING, WROUGHT-WITH-TOO-MANY-EXPECTATIONS KIND OF THING, and that feeling only got worse with time.

Then, about two weeks ago, a friend from school (Julie) said she didn't have plans for February break (highly unusual for her; not so unusual for me), and lo and behold, the fabled trip to the Big Apple became an honest to goodness plan and is now officially a done deal. (Woah. If cliches were cow shit I could grow me some award-winning zucchini right about now.)

So...what did we do? If you care, here is the play-by-play.

Friday

Took 3:30 bus from Portland, ME to South Station in Boston, then took 6:00 bus from Boston to New York. Arrived at 11:15.

Went to Swing Dance Party. At 11:15. I hadn't seen 11:15 PM in months. We actually showed up fashionably late (after walking through Times Square--mind blowing. Very bright and overly-stimulating in a terrifying neon kind of way). The event was the birthday party of Julie's friend, and I had an absolutely wonderful time. My knowledge of swing is limited, but I know the basic step and a few turns (thank you, Franklin), and actually got asked to dance more than once! Yahoo! I am determined to do more fo this kind of dancing...and soon.

Left Swing Dance Party when the place closed...around 2:00. Took subway with Julie and her friend Carrie to Carrie's apartment on 90th and Lexington. I must say, I was surprised by the number of people on the subway at 2:00 AM. It was easier for me to be awake when so much of the world was awake, too.

Saturday

H&H Midtown Bagels East for breakfast (81st and 2nd Ave.). Julie was finally at peace. She is convinced there is no finer bagel than those served at H&H, and certainly nothing close in Portland. I'm sure she's looked.
After breakfast: The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Knowing the scale of the place, we decided right from the beginning to set a goal. We settled European paintings and sculpture, and the Egyptian exhibit. My favorites? In the European department, Degas and Vermeer. I don't know why. I never had a connection to either artist before this visit to the museum. That's just what stood out to me. In the Egyptian department, I don't think I can pick a favorite. I love all things Egyptian, and I enjoyed the Temple of Dendur, most definitely. I think maybe I also enjoyed the zillions of little charms, from scarabs to little statues of the gods. I don't know. It was all so amazing. This photo is Julie (and quite a number of other folks) outside the Temple of Dendur. She commented on how small it suddenly seemed to her after having spent a part of last summer in Egypt. It seemed like an awfully big thing to me, considering that it once lived in Egypt and now lives inside a building in New York City.
My only regret? Not seeing Fred the Cat. Now, Fred is not actually called Fred. I believe he is in fact "The Favorite Cat" by Nathaniel Currier, but since I first set eyes on him (while putting together a bulletin board about cats in sixth grade under the careful collage tutelage of Franklin who let me cut up his Met Store catalog), I have loved him. Something (among other things) for my next visit.

After a lovely afternoon of art, we were starving, so we went to an Indian restaurant called Curry Mahal on 2nd Ave. between 4th and 5th St. Delicious. Cheap. Radiator under our table. Life was good.

Back to Carrie's to meet up with a friend of Julie's, then off to DTUT, a coffee house on the upper east side, not far from Carrie's apartment (near 86th and 2nd, I think). This place was great! There were four of us, and we split a s'mores plate--a pot o' fire with all the fixin's to make our own s'mores. Not to mention our delicious coffee drinks (though some of us opted for wine). You can't quite tell in the picture, but there is a good-sized flame coming out of the little black pot between the piles of graham crackers. You can also see my absolutely delicious mug of hot chocolate in the lower left. The lovely ladies? Nicole and Julie.

Sunday

Bagels for breakfast again...somewhere closer than H&H, and consequently not as good. Oh well. Then a walk through part of Central Park to find a very important statue:

This was one of the few things I actually was certain I wanted to see while in New York. When Franklin told me about it, I knew I would have to track it down one day. I just didn't think it would take so many years. Julie was an excellent sport. it was a COLD, COLD day. She had not seen this statue before, so that was nice, too. We found one very random spot in the park that was comfortably warm. Don't know why, but the landscape must have kept the wind from blowing there and captured what little warmth the sun was giving off. We watched some ducks and enjoyed the rest. Plus I took Julie's picture. We finished our walk through the park and ended up at the Museum of Natural History. Our intent was to stop there in the lobby just to warm up, but it also wet my appetite for dinosaurs and butterflies, so we added the museum to our list of things to do.

Next stop: Times Square. We stood in line in the freezing cold (dancing to keep warm) at TKTS in the hopes of catching a broadway show. Our waiting was not in vain.

Shortly after our time in line, we saw Chicago! I cannot fully explain how happy this made me. I have been singing the songs from this show since...I don't know when...whenever Franklin first introduced me to it, and long before Richard Gere, Renee Zellweger, and Catherine Zeta Jones made the movie version. We had a blast at the show, and I particularly enjoyed "They Both Reached for the Gun." Brilliant. The part of Billy Flynn was played by John O'Hurly, and he did a swell job. I got his picture outside the theater after, but he looks demonic, so I won't post it.

We decided to warm up with a hot beverage after the show, but it was too cold to prowl around for a perfect place, so we ended up at a chain (not Starbucks--Julie had to draw the line somewhere), but still it was a national conglomerate, so I won't name it here. We still feel some shame about wasting valuable New York time in a national chain. The conversation was lovely, though. We followed that with dinner at Mary Ann's, a Mexican place. Marry Ann's turns out to be a chain, too, but it seems like maybe just a chain in the city? Don't know. Hadn't heard of it before. The food was good enough to make us happy...or maybe (more likely) that was the sangria. I have never had such good sangria. It was worth it for that alone.

Monday

The shopping day...H&H for breakfast again. Then we headed to Greenwich Village. Charming, I tell you. Just charming. We walked ALL OVER Soho, stopping at only a few spots, but perhaps most importantly at Point. Julie was exceedingly agreeable and happy to settle in and flip through a knitting book while I made the most of the Presidents' Day sale. Yup. I fondled lots of yarn and savored the lovely, little store, and I finally settled on some Lorna's Laces at 15% off. I'm sure I spent too much, but it was worth it. I bought two skeins of 50% silk, 50% wool light worsted weight, colorway: cedar. This photograph does not do it justice, but I waited until too late in the day to snap the picture, and I couldn't get great light. I think you get the idea, anyway. We also found Purl, but it wasn't open yet, and after my Lorna's Laces purchase, it was best to leave well enough alone and be happy with looking in the window. We weren't done shopping, anyhow. Nope. We headed to midtown to find a tiny, hole-in-the-wall dance studio to purchase hip scarves for bellydancing. We were very excited to 1) find this obscure little spot, and 2) find awesome scarves most suited to our personalities. Photo forthcoming. Suffice it to say, my new scarf is charming, full of jingling joyousness, and exceedingly fun to dance in. Satisfied with our purchases we headed to the upper west side for lunch and the natural history museum. Lunch...Chinese food. Can't remember where (just a few blocks south of the Natural History museum), but it was delicious. The museum was crowded and the butterfly exhibit sold out, so we purchased tickets for Tuesday morning.

Early evening we spent walking around the upper east side, and enjoying hot beverages and dessert at Andre's Cafe and European Bakery (85th and 2nd).

Back to Carrie's then to rest up for our last night out.

In what I suspect is typical New York Style, Julie said at 10:15 PM, "I guess we can start getting ready to go now." So she got dolled up. I put on black pants and a ho-hum blouse. We cabbed it to 1st and 1st to get a drink at La Ligna. (I think that's what it was called. I can't find it on the web...I'll have to check with Julie). The bar was dark, long, and lovely, with a DJ at the back and a space for dancing. Unfortunately, not too many folks were there, so the dancing didn't happen. The music was most excellent and so was my Cosmopolitan. Yum.

Next stop: Cielo for dancing. I went to a real club. I went clubbing. I stood outside the little velvet rope and had to wait a few minutes to get in and give up my life savings for the coat check and cover charge (not really...it was actually quite cheap compared to other places we might have ended up). I'm going to quote a review of where we went from nymag.com because it makes the place sound...ultra hip: After eight years of DJing at Pacha, the renowned Ibiza club, co-owner Nicolas Matar has brought a little bit of everyone's favorite party island to the Meatpacking District. Eschewing the mega-club formula, Cielo's perfectly square, intimate main room is centered around a sunken dance floor crowned by a large disco ball. Cozy banquettes and tables line the perimeter. Like big squishy logs, the semi-tubular brown cushions that cover the walls make the club feel like a cushioned cabin (if a very modish one)—an illusion that's clinched by the plants on the smoking patio out back. The stylish crowd comes here to dance and the DJs— many of whom come from Europe to spin—bust some of the best house this side of the Atlantic. The lack of a VIP room is intentional—a tight door policy insures that the entire club feels privileged. After all, if you can slip past the velvet rope outside, you should feel important. — David Farley

Yes, I got my groove thing on in that "perfectly square, intimate main room." I'll be honest...the door policy didn't feel all THAT tight (I mean, they let ME in, right?), and the crowd hardly felt what you might call "stylish," but I am not complaining, and neither was Julie who is actually familiar with the club scene in New York. Her opinion? It was like the club for geeks, in a good way. People were there having fun, being totally unpretentious, and just dancing, Dancing, DANCING. We enjoyed the variety of people, too. There were young and old (ok, not gramps, but everyone wasn't 22), and all races represented. There were good dancers and bad dancers, and nobody seemed to care. We really had a blast and did not get hit on until we were in line at the coat check where a drunken fellow was a little too friendly, but we ignored him and got a cab home. At 2:30. Holy shit. Oh, and my language really took a turn for the vulgar after three days in New York.

Tuesday

H&H again. Julie is addicted. I had a chocolate muffin that proved that H&H is the best at bagels AND everything else.

After breakfast? The American Museum o f Natural History--butterflies are insane. The museum currently has a butterfly exhibit, complete with a little butterfly conservatory, a controlled environment kept at 80 degrees and filled with moisture and tropical plants, and it was teeming with butterflies of all shapes and sizes. They could land on you or wiz past your head at warp-butterfly speed. Amazing. From delicate to daunting...after the butterflies, we checked out the dinosaurs. I am still partial to the T-Rex whose head was bigger than Julie and me put together (and in its petrified form weighs more than 900 pounds). This photo is of the Barosaurus in the museum lobby.

After the museum, we had lunch at Grand Central Station and parted ways. I managed to get myself to Port Authority and onto the bus to Boston.

If I had to grade my trip, I'd give it an A. I didn't see the Statue of Liberty. I didn't go to Ground Zero. I didn't explore Rockefeller Center (though we did drive past it in one of our cab trips). I didn't even stand outside NBC studios and wave my arms during the Today Show. Nope. We did what we wanted, not what was expected of a tourist. I cannot thank Julie enough for being such an awesome guide. I also can't wait to go back.

How about it, Franklin? When are we going?

We've been busy!

2006-02-05T10:30:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted in a while, and I can tell you it isn't because I've been lying about eating bon bons and watching Lucy reruns. Oh no. What's been going on, you may well ask?

1) New semester at school: this means finals, grading, new classes to plan and kids to get to know. The two weeks since the quarter began have felt like two months of hard labor. I'll settle in, of course. It just takes time.

2) Agility classes: Milton and I have had 3 classes now. It's going ok, but I was frustrated the other night when we were practicing because I know the outcome I'm supposed to get him to, but I don't have a good sense of how to teach it. We had a week off because the trainer had a dog show in New Hampshire, and we've enjoyed our midsemester break. At home we've been working on all sorts of things including jumps! See?

3) I've started a new class just for me: Bellydancing! Very exciting. No pictures to share, of course. I'm not that crazy. Anyhow, it's tons of fun. Here is a question for you inspired by my class: Can you clench just one butt cheek, and then the other? I'm finding that some folks can and some folks can't. I'm in the latter camp, that is, until this week. I've been practicing, and I think I'm getting the hang of it. Try it. See. But stand up to try it; it's much easier to do when you are sitting down.

6) Knitting: Knitting? What's knitting? I knit? I do vaguely recall doing something crafty with sticks and string...right, yes. Knitting. I've finished half of the second handwarmer. I ran out of football games. Maybe I'll finish it tonight at the Superbowl Party. The party we are attending will be overrun with young people (I'm talking 2 years old or younger). Not my usual crowd! Knitting may make the whole event possible for me. I've also been working on a shnazzy scarf. I finished sixteen rows and was suddenly one stitch short of the necessary 51. This is the most complex pattern I've ever done (doesn't say much, but still), and I knew enough to know that being short one stitch would be a bad thing. So I tinked back two and a quarter rows to where I missed a yarn forward. I can't even begin to think how else I could have done that. What happens when you frog when you have 'psso's in the pattern? The thought terrified me, and with no one to ask in my immediate area (I mean, my living room), I just worked my way back. Now I'm on track again. Both the handwarmer and the scarf require a certain level of concentration, so I haven't had something I could just pick up and work on whenever. I think that's why the knitting has been so sparse. I still need to wash the wool for Phil's hat. If I get that going, it will be the sort of project I can start and stop easily, as I won't need to look at a pattern.

Here is the new scarf:

I also had a nice visit with my friend Maureen, mother of Maggie who was the recipient of THE baby blanket. I finally have a picture of the blanket "in situ."

The baby is a doll, and the blanket is holding up ratherwell. It has made it successfully through its first washing. Apparently, it was in a picture Maureen sent to a fiber guru friend of hers, and the friend took note and passed along compliments! That made me feel pretty good!

Ok, now that I'm all updated, it's time to get back to work. Phil's campaign is starting to gear up, so today will involve sticking labels on envelopes and folding letters. That's just as fun as knitting or reading, right? (Sigh.)

A+ student

2006-01-20T09:35:00.000-05:00

*Booger. I typed this post once, and then my browser "unexpectedly quit." What's up with that?*

Milton and I had a good agility class last night. Aside from barking madly at a big truck we passed on the highway, he was pretty good on the ride in. He's not so keen on sitting still in the car. During class, we showed off our targeting skills, walked on a board, spent a few minutes exploring a wabbly platform, and jumped over little bars. I say we, but it was really all Milton. I just dished out lots of treats for good behaviors.

I do have to say that the success of our evening was marred to some degree by the trainer. Dog trainers are strange folk. [NOTE: I am about to be totally judgemental and unfair based on my experiences with only two dog trainers. Still, I can safely say 100% of the trainers I've worked with have been weird. I know that two people are hardly enough to allow me to make sweeping generalizations about an entire category (dogegory?) of people, but I'm going to anyway. I know there are perfectly normal dog trainers out there. But then, who defines weird and norma? Ack. This is complicated. I just want to tell you why I think dog trainers (at least the two I've known) are weird, and both have the same oddball qualities, so that is enough of a trend for me.) Trend one: Dog trainers seem to have infinite patience for and belief in dogs. They have much lower expectations for humans. They also seem to communicate better with Fido than with Fred. Example: As the class was winding down, the trainer was explaining yet another skill for us to work on, and she was demonstrating it with her dog. Then I heard her say, sort of as an aside to someone who had come in, "I wish these people would leave already! I have another class coming in." Leave already? I am a teacher. I know about teaching. I know it is exceedingly annoying when the students walk out while I am giving instrucitons. I was definitely tired at this point in the class. Milton was tired, too. We were eagerly awaiting our dismissal. It did not come! At least not until I heard the snippy comment.

Second trend: No sense of humor. When the class was over, the trainer walked out with me to get something out of her car. She had a dog in the car and she realized she had left the light on. She said, "Oh shoot. I left the light on in the car again." I said "maybe the dog wanted to do some reading." Now, I'm not one to toot my own horn (ok, maybe just a little), but I thought that was pretty funny. At the very least, a person with an ounce of social graces would offer up a chuckle or a polite smile or something. She just didn't get it. And I know she heard me.

My first trainer was the same way. Great with the dogs, but she never got anyone's jokes and often seemed frustrated with the people in the class (including me, and I try ever so hard to be a good student--but not in that brown (wet?) nosing sort of way.)

Anyhow, Milton did a most excellent job. He is a super dog. Maybe I should knit him a cape!

On the knitting front, I cast on for a cute, little scarf. It has a neat sort-of lace inspired pattern (what with yarn overs and such, though it is a far cry from actually being lace). Anyhow, I like it and it's a new challenge for me. I will post pictures of the new bit of scarf later, as I think trying to upload pictures is what caused my browser to quit. I'm wary of knitting on this project when I tired, though, so I should cast on for something else. Duh. The second hand warmer! Time to get with my own program, eh?

Actually, it's time to grade more exams. Phooey.

One down, one to go, unless I lose a limb

2006-01-18T18:27:00.000-05:00

Not much time for knitting lately. The quarter's end, midyear exams at school and a nasty cold have kept me busy. The trouble is nearly over, thank goodness. Hopefully things will settle down a bit when the new semester begins next week. Heck, who am I kidding? With two new classes starting up, next week promises to be crazier than ever. Sigh.

I did get to knit last weekend during the football games. I made one hand-warmer from Joelle Hoverson's Last Minute Knitted Gifts. I think it came out pretty well, if I do say so myself.

(I wish you could see the stitch pattern better. It's kind of cool the way it's ribbed, but the ribbing sort of twists around to the right. The color is off, too. It's more of a plum color.)

I'm wearing my new creation right now as I type this, and it seems to be working fine (my hand's warm, but my fingers still work, so that qualifies). It looks rather fashionable, too. Hip, almost! My other hand is jealous (and nervous after reading the title to this entry). Hopefully I'll get the other hand warmer knit up this weekend during the Steelers v. Broncos game.

(Action Shot)

By the way, if anyone wants to try the pattern, don't bother looking for the round needles suggested in the pattern (she says you need two 8" circs, size 6. Hooey!). Impossible to find, and from what I hear, darn near impossible to work with if you do find them. I used DPNs and everything worked out just fine.

As for yarn, I strayed in that department, too. I used Jo Sharp Silkroad Aran Tweed in Potpourri.

On the dog front, Milton's first agility class went pretty well. It was exhausting, but we made it through. He's high maintenance! If he isn't getting what he wants, he barks, and he has one of those piercing yelps that make you feel as if someone is stabbing you in the brain via your eye socket. So I had to keep him busy with lots of little commands while trying to listen to the instructor. Tricky. When I got home, Phil asked me what sorts of items were there, as agility is all about running and jumping on and over things. I thought about it and realized there was a tire way too high for Milton to jump through, two platforms too high for him to get onto, and a board across two cement blocks that would certainly be a stretch for my short, little longdog. Hmmm. We'll have to see how to manage all of that! Plus, he consumes a lot of treats during the class, and when I have to hand them to him, he's a long way down! I was temporarily jealous of the lab whose nose came up to his owner's waist. But really, Milton did a fine job. He's good at learning things. We've been practicing all week for Thursday. Hopefully all goes well again! His "stay" is coming along nicely. Good boy!

Sigh. Back to correcting exams...

Update

2006-01-08T10:42:00.000-05:00

I called Maureen the other day to see how she is doing and ended up speaking with her husband, Tom. They had company, but he took a minute to say they and the baby are all doing very well, and that at that very moment, Maggie was wrapped up in the blanket I had made for her. Ah, that makes me feel good! Hopefully I will be stopping in for a visit this week to see the baby and the blanket in action. (For those who asked, the pattern is from Debbie Stoler's Stitch 'n' Bitch but I just used three cotton yarns instead of the yarn the pattern suggested. I used Blue Sky Organic Cotton, worsted weight. I knit (or purled) two together when the border met the center section, giving sort of a cool ridge at that spot. Nothing fancy, but I like the effect.)

On the knitting front, I finished Phil's first hat. I say first hat because it's a rugged, heavy-duty wool deal that will itch like anything until I line it, but I like it. His second hat will be made of a swell Merino, details about which are in a whole other part of my house. I'll post exactly what it is plus pics when I get 'round to making it. Anyhow, the first hat is great. It's all in 2x2 rib. Phil has a big head, and this hat makes it look giant, but then he said it made my head look big, too. Still, I think he's happy to have something knit from me.

On the puppy front, Milton and I have signed up for an agility class. I'm very nervous. I was encouraged to do this by the dog-walking lady who visits my pups every day. When I looked up the course on-line, it said that we would need to have taken the 'basic good manners' course or get permission from the instructor. I called Nancy (the dog-walking lady):

Me: Do you think Milton already has good manners?
Nancy: Yup.
Me: Do I?
Nancy: Ha ha! Sure, you'll be fine as long as you're holding some really yummy treat.

Milton's an odd little devil. We got a new cabinet for the Kitchen, and he wanted to call it home. He helped my father install the shelf (actually, he sat on the shelf, rather impeding the whole installing process, but he's one cute pooch, so he gets away with stuff like this all the time).

I'm still nervous about this class, and to be on the safe side Milton and I are having daily training sessions in basics like sit, down, stay, targeting, and spins. He really will do just about anything for food. I know that pooch courses are more about training the people than the pooches. I hope I am a good learner. Joe Pete went to puppy classes, and he even earned his Canine Good Citizen certificate, which is rather shocking considering that he can be a very bad citizen if he chooses. Miss Otis was a puppy school dropout. She finished one class, but she didn't go to the next level (probably that's our fault, not hers). Sigh. Hopefully Milton and I can pull this off!

Back to the knitting news (very jumpy here today. Sorry.): Franklin showed me how to get on a yahoo group for knitters in the Portland, ME area, and I discovered public knitting in my own backyard! At my favorite local coffee place, folks knit every Wednesday night! I can't believe it! I went last week and had a lovely time, though it's rather a dark spot for knitting. Oh well. It was still nice to meet other knitters. There were only 3 of us, plus a couple of friends of one lady who were there more for the bitchin' than the stitchin', but it was all good. We'll see what future weeks bring. Sadly, I missed open knit night at my veryLYS on Thursday. Crazy week. At least I had Wednesday.

Not sure what I'm going to knit next. I think I'm going to try a few things out before settling on a project. I'll keep you posted. If only I didn't have stacks of papers to grade!

Delivered

2006-01-02T09:39:00.000-05:00

My good friend Maureen finally had her baby, Maggie, on Dec. 29. When I got the call that evening, it kicked me into knitting overdrive. I suddenly decided I HAD to finish the baby blanket before I could go see Maureen in the hospital, and I told her I'd come in the next day. I had made good progress, but I still had a ways to go (8 inches or so), so I convinced the family that we needed to watch a movie--I seem to knit the most when I do it while watching movies--and I really got somewhere. By the following morning, I had 22 rows to go. If I was really cooking, it took me 7 minutes to do a row (dad timed me). When you add in the time it took to start a new row (which involved much flipping and reorganizing of yarn) and the time it took to eat refreshing bits of chocolate, well, I still had a ways to go. So all morning on Dec. 30th I knit. At a little after 1 PM, I finished!

Before dashing in to the hospital, I had to make one pit stop: my very LYS. I couldn't give the blanket away without showing Heather, the owner, as it was yarn from her store and my first big project. She was quite supportive and oohed and aaahed appropriately. (She probably also thinks I am totally nuts, but that's ok, she's right).

Maureen was most pleased with the blanket (as were her mother and mother-in-law who know the value of handknit items). The colors are great and will match the baby's room perfectly. Here it is, all done and ready to go.

I didn't have a baby to try it with before I took it to the hospital, so my trusty model Racoona volunteered.

I'd like to pay a quick tribute to the movies that helped me finish, and I guess I need to give a special nod to Jimmy Stewart because he was in two of them:

Calendar Girls
Harry Potter (#2)
Miracle on 34th Street (the newest version)
It's a Wonderful Life
Ocean's Eleven
The Incredibles
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington

Thank you, Hollywood.

Now I'm going to knit a hat for Phil. He has been ever so patient, and I appreciate that.

The Family Cometh

2005-12-27T07:52:00.000-05:00

Let me start right off by saying we had a lovely Christmas. The folks got here on Dec. 22, and so did brother dear. Most excellent. We had a busy two days leading up to Christmas--shopping, baking, shopping, baking, and so on.

Franklin and I were lucky enough to get the 23rd all to ourselves for a yarn crawl. I have been dying to get him to my local yarn stores since I first found them this summer and fall. And what a day we had. You can read all about it here if you'd like. We had a most excellent day with a delicious lunch of Indian food, and all in all I'd say Franklin enjoyed the shops as much as I hoped he would.

Yesterday we added another shop to our list--Korner Knitters in Standish. The best thing for me about taking Franklin to the stores is his ability to give me a good assessment of them. He knows way more about yarn than I do, and he knows a bargain when he sees one better than I do (this is only in the yarn department, ok? I can out-shop him on shoes anytime). I really enjoyed getting a better sense of what I've got here to deal with. It turns out, I have a pretty sweet set up. I have a cozy, fun place to knit; I have the best store to get deals on yarn, I have two places with a good, solid selection, and then there's Halcyon, a little ways away, but worth it if I need something particular. Really, Franklin's visit has been most illuminating.

How goes the baby blanket, you ask? I passed the half-way mark yesterday. No news about the baby, so I'm starting to feel a little bit responsible, as the blanket isn't done yet. I still think the baby will win the race; my friend will be induced on the 29th if the baby doesn't decide to come under its own volition before then. Here is a progress shot:

One thing I can say about my knitting experiences: with each knew project, I have definitely learned something new. With the baby blanket, there have been several firsts.

1. I have altered a pattern (by changing colors instead of using all one color).
2. I have frogged for the first time. Fortunately, Franklin was by my side and comforting me the whole way. I did about eight rows of the green and realized I was joining it to the beige border all wrong, and so decided to rip it back. Within this first, there are two more: frogging with waste yarn and frogging without it.
3. I have reversed a goofed stitch several rows back. When I switched colors (for the second time around), I purled where I should have knit just one time, and as it happened at the color change, it was extremely obvious. With encouragement from Franklin, I got out my Stitch 'n' Bitch book and new crochet hook (purchased earlier in the day--how fortuitous!), plunked down at the kitchen table, and began the surgery. It was easier than I thought to drop the stitch (on purpose! Amazing!), put it right, and then climb the ladder back to the current row. Truly, a most fascinating and startlingly easy process. One more skill for the resume, I guess!

On a final note--the Ruana. It is absolutely gorgeous, wonderful, fabulous, brilliant, excellent, and beautiful. Franklin did a fine, fine job, and I love it. It drapes like a dream and keeps me cozy warm. Look for pics first on his blog...they're coming soon.

Ok, back to the blanket...

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

2005-12-16T08:11:00.000-05:00

So I can knit, I can knit, I can knit!

Snow day number two. At the moment, I'm happy. When we're still in school come July I'll be crying!

We've got our second Friday snowstorm in a row, and I have to admit that I love December snow days. There is so much to do at home, and it's fun to be here working away on things.

My number one knitting priority is the baby blanket. I am convinced now more than ever that the baby will be in grad school by the time I'm done. Ok, so it's no Ruana, but from my perspective it's might as well be one of those sheets Christo and Jeanne-Claude use to cover islands. If only I could knit on my commute, but I have to drive. I did knit during the historical society meeting last Monday and during a curriculum committee meeting yesterday. No one seems to mind there as I contribute regularly to the conversation.

Anyhow, the intended baby recipient is due on Dec. 22, so the chances of my being done by then are slim to none as I'm not even half way yet, but I am happy with how the blanket is coming out. Here's a picture:

The border is seed stitch, and the middle part is half knit and then half purl. Once I get to the center of the blanket, I'll purl first then knit, making four panels in the middle of the blanket. I'm planning to switch to a light green yarn at that point. The pattern doesn't call for the color switching, but I think it's kind of neat, and it keeps the project a little more interesting.

The yarn is Blue Sky Organic Cotton, worsted weight, colors 82 (the beige), 80 (the cream), and 83 (the green I haven't started using yet).

Ok, time to get to it!

A New Knitting Adventure

2005-12-09T08:09:00.000-05:00

I haven't been posting. It seems that balancing school and blogging is difficult. Sigh. I'm still reading lots of blogs, so that's something, I guess.

I have, however, found a wee bit of knitting time. I've been working on Phil's hat.

It is coming out well, I think. I like the color and the stripes (these are my first stripes, and I'm quite proud).

A way long time ago Kel asked about the pattern for my nephew's hat. I meant to post where I got it from, but I forgot. Anyhow, I've been making hats out of the book Last Minute Knitted Gifts. There is one main hat pattern with a number of variations. Of course, this has made me realize that you can really do whatever you want, which is why I'm making Phil's hat in ribbing the whole way instead of just around the edge.

Now for a big announcement (ok, maybe a medium sized announcement): the queen of hats here has moved on to something more challenging. This is the first time I have two knitting projects going at the same time. I have finally begun a baby blanket. (Ok, so a blanket isn't exactly challenging in terms of skills needed, but the amount of time required for this slow knitter to make this project is the daunting part). I'm using the pattern from Stitch 'n' Bitch but not the same yarn. It's going slowly, of course, but it's still pretty neat.

I hadn't done seed stitch before, and I really like how it comes out.

I'm having a snow day today, and since I left the big pile of papers I need to grade at school, I'm going to knit, knit, knit! What a gift.

Do the Happy Dance

2005-11-26T10:31:00.000-05:00

What is there to do the happy dance for? Well, let me tell you!

1. I passed my paper! Woo hoo! No more revising for me! (See? Isn't that worth dancing for?)

2. I finished the hat for my neice. It sat idle for some time, and just got all finished up in the last couple of days.

I gave her the hat on Thanksgiving. She was very pleased with it, but not exactly agreeable to a photograph, which is too bad, as she looked positively adorable, and the hat fit her perfectly.

3. It snowed, and my puppies are extra cute when they romp in the snow (except I don't think Milton likes it very much). It Snowed on Wednesday and Thursday, but we still only ended up with about 3 inches. Not bad. Pretty without need of much shoveling.

Yes, Milton is clearly less impressed by the snow than the rest of us.

4. We had a great walk on Thanksgiving morning in the snow.

It might be a little tough to see, but Milton was exceedingly agreeable to borrowing Joe Pete's coat. Joe Pete really doesn't need a coat, and Milton does, so it worked out pretty well, except the coat was a little too big. Still, he didn't fuss one bit (this is shocking, very shocking), which suggests that he was happy to have the extra warmth. I know what's on Milton's Christmas wishlist!

5. Even with the new snow, we still managed to find this plastic dog bone in the backyard, and that made everyone happy.

5. I shopped at the Christmas Tree Shops and Target on Wednesday morning, found what I needed (and more), and did not wait in line at either place. This last fact will only mean something to those of you who have shopped in such locations during holiday times. Truly, it was a miracle.

6. I saw the new Pride and Prejudice and I loved it. I know that the Jane Austen Society trounced all over it, but I don't give a whooey. I guess I don't have super high movie standards, but that just means I enjoy more movies. The Jane Austen set had difficulty with the fact that the movie strayed from Austen's witty dialogue. I'm ok with that. I can read her dialogue in the book (and have many times), but the movie put in different, witty enough dialogue I enjoyed very much. Anyhow, I thought the whole film was awesome, wonderful, and fabulous, except the last 3 minutes. At that point there was an incredibly sappy and totally tacked on love-y type scene between Elizabeth and Darcy. It did not match the rest of the movie one bit. The next day I heard a bit of information I can't confirm (or don't care to research) related to this terrible last 3 minutes. In England, the film is showing with a different, more appropriate ending (a wedding or something suitable) that tested better there, while the sappy crap went over better on test audiences in America. Sometimes I wonder about my fellow citizens. Sigh. I guess I'll have to check out the DVD when it comes along.

7. I started Phil's hat with the wool I got at the craft sale, and it goes well. I even put in a stripe (my first stripe! Pictures later).

8. I think that's it for the moment. But 7 good things isn't so bad! Lots to be Thankful for, I guess.

Hope y'all had a wonderful holiday weekend with your very own list of good things.

Still Here...still waiting

2005-11-21T11:28:00.000-05:00

I have not yet heard whether I passed my paper or not. I am hoping to hear by Wednesday, but who knows.

Not much to report except:

1) Still knitting, but just barely (I'm STILL working on the hat for my niece.)
2) Almost half-way through parent-teacher conferences (I'm on a break). So far so good, but I'll be here until 8:30 tonight. Yipes. I got here at 6:40 this morning.
3) Looking for my house--it has gone missing under an inexplicable amount of clutter.
4) Not traveling. I have enjoyed Thanksgiving with Franklin in Chicago the past two years, and am sad not to be going this year. But maybe I need some time at home.
5) Bought yarn yesterday. That was cheery. Wool for mittens for Phil...I hope. Gotta figure out how to make mittens.
6) Holy Heck! I should have already posted to celebrate Maine's victory in the equal rights department. The referendum to overturn the equal rights law (with the newly added sexual orientation bit) failed! We finally got something right up here. We've still got our share of morons (some counties didn't vote the way I'd have liked) but enough folks did, and that's what counts in the end. The referendum failed with a 55% no to 45% yes divide. Went to a party on Saturday to celebrate, and whooped it up with a little Merengue dancing.
7) Have started listening to Christmas music. I used to have this rule-- no Christmas music until after Thanksgiving. Then I realized that was a stupid self-imposed rule. What was the penalty? Nothing. If Barbara S. wants to wish me Christmas cheer, as does Ella F., I see no reason to deny them that right.

That's it. Life goes on, just not wildly (except for the Merengue bit, I suppose).

More soon...pictures, maybe?

Lost...and found

2005-11-08T22:15:00.000-05:00

Where did she go? There used to be a new knitter called Sister Sue who sometimes posted at this spot, and a few of you may have wondered what happened to her. Did she get impaled by a knitting needle and drop the hobby? Did she win the lottery and move back to Hawaii? Did she get arrested for trying to steal an alpaca?

Worry not, dear readers. She has been found. She was found underneeth 86 pages of research paper, mumbling incoherently, alternately laughing and crying, and clutching two receipts for $30 each. For a while we thought finding her would be impossible, but then we were tipped off when she placed a call to her brother Franklin. The message she left went something like this:

"Hi, Frank. It's me. I'm just calling to say hi. I'm working on my paper. I've been working on it for sixteen hours and Phil's away. Haven't talked to any real people since yesterday. I'm ok. It's ok. [then there was an indecipherable noise--we think it's that sound you get when you run your finger over your lips real quick like while humming. Try it. You'll see what we mean.] You don't have to call me back or anything. Here's my number." Franklin reported returning the call and actually speaking with his sister. She was basically stable, though she admitted to having not changed her socks in three days (don't ask about anything else!) and reported that the puppies were romping around in three feet of pillow fluff they had ripped from their beds.

Closer examination of the receipts we pried from her typing-weary fingers revealed that they were for a) the cost of making 4 copies of 86 pages, and b) the cost of sending via overnight express mail said papers to the University of Massachusetts in Boston.

We kept her under close observation until she received an email stating that the papers had indeed arrived in Boston, and the situation was finally completely beyond her control (she also took a shower and changed her socks, so we thought that was a good sign).

She has knit intermitently on a hat for her niece. She hopes to begin fingerless gloves and mittens soon.

She has also asked that we convey a couple of messages:

1--thanks to Rabbitch for offering to read/edit the paper. She would have taken you up on the offer if it (the paper) had been emailable, 40 pages shorter, and if you had not been quite so ill. Really though, she was afraid you'd find errors. She didn't want anybody to point out any errors at all. She even threatened the woman at the copy center. "If you see anything wrong with this, DON'T TELL ME," she said. The copy center woman agreed to do nothing more than make sure all of the pages got copied. We think she felt fear. Anyhow, she (Sister Sue, not the copy center woman) thanks you for the offer that no one else made.

2--If you hear loud, painful screaming coming from the general direction of the northeast in two weeks, please send flowers. No, not flowers. Chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate. The screaming would indicate that she has been asked to revise rather than been given a 'pass.' Chocolate might be the only thing that could bring her back from the brink of dispair.

Thank you for checking in. Sister Sue will be back when she's gotten over her aversion to touching a computer keyboard.

-Management

Cute things great and small

2005-11-03T20:31:00.000-05:00

It's a world of cute here in Maine. (I'm ignoring the world of 'hurt' I'm in at the moment because of my final paper, but a good case of denial is giving me the time to write this entry.)

Let's see...where to begin. I finished the baby hat. It's ok. I still like the yarn. I could have done better with the hat. I like making I-cord. At first it was kind of annoying, but then I worked on it during a meeting, and it really was great. It kept my hands busy but I could still participate in the conversation (which I make an extra effort to do when I knit during a meeting to show that I can knit and play along at the same time).

I am happier with the hat I made for my nephew. The hat and the young lad are both charming.

He's in a phase where he likes to make silly faces for the camera. Adorable. And the hat fits. That's miraculous. My mother-in-law took a picture of my niece in her kerchief, but as it's on her camera, I have to jump through some hoops to get to it to post. I'll work on that.

What else is cute? Oh, I don't know. Say...my darling pooches? This is why I forgive them when they eat hats (and shoes, and stuffed animals, and books, etc.). Here are Miss Otis and Milton.

Finally, I had a great time visiting an Alpaca farm on Maine Alpaca Farms weekend. When I saw these ladies, I had a similar feeling to when I saw Joe Pete as a puppy (we intended to buy a book about Beagles that day. Instead we bought Joe Pete.) No, I didn't buy an alpaca, but gosh, aren't they sweet?

They are all wearing the lovely orange neck bands because hunting season just opened here in Maine, and these sweeties live in a somewhat rural area.

The following picture is of Julio, Anna the guard llama, and Guinness.

Anna is a riot. She checks out every visitor to the enclosure (even the owner--I watched!). The second you step in she comes right up to you, and you lean your face towards her, she sniffs you, and then she abruptly turns away with sort of an "ok, you're all right" kind of attitude. She really does look out for the alpacas! And as the owner said, she's much quieter than a herding dog.

I bought THE most lucious yarn ever, and it's a mix from Julio and Guinness. (I'll take a picture of it for next time. Too tired at this moment.) This yarn was not cheap (though it was cheaper than a whole alpaca--oh, the lengths we go to for justification!), and once I got it home Phil declared that I should make something for him with it. He's right. I should. And I probably will. He suggested a hat, probably because that's all he's seen me make (besides the kerchief, and he found that quite silly). But I'd likely need three skeins of it to make him a hat he would hardly ever wear (His head is very big, and he rarely finds it cold enough to wear hats; plus they mess up his hair). So maybe mittens. Scary. A new project...I'll have to keep you posted.

Tonight was open knit night at my very LYS. I almost forgot, and I probably should have stayed home to work on my paper, but the event only comes 'round once a month. I didn't have anything going at the moment, so I cast on for my niece's hat. It's in a lovely shade of lavender. I'm sure she'll be pleased with it. Phil, on the other hand, isn't so impressed that I didn't start something for him. That may just have to wait until after Tuesday when my paper is due.

Right. My paper. Time to get back to reality.

A very knitterly week

2005-10-29T08:36:00.000-04:00

Perhaps it is in the spirit of the ravaged hat that I spent this week making new hats, though none of them for me. I've nearly finished the baby hat (from Last Minute Knitted Gifts). I just need to finish the I-chord tie which I learned to do last night. I'm not entirely certain whom this hat is for, but I figure it doesn't hurt to have such a thing on hand. One of my friends is having a baby in Decemeber and doesn't know if she's having a boy or a girl. Either way, though, this hat could be fine as she doesn't go for that blue-for-boys, pink-for-girls kind of approach to kid styling. I don't know why I picked blue-hued yarn for this project. I think I just liked it better than the other options. Anyhow, it was fun and easy to make, and I'm feeling pretty good about the eyelit. I've stuck a needle through to demonstrate just how proud I am as the tie isn't ready yet.

Yesterday we had a teacher in-service day which involved listening to a lot of people talk. I took knitting and I knit. I don't think I've ever knit so steadily for such a long period of time. I made most of a hat for our nephew. I'm wicked psyched about the rib brim. I think it looks neato. I just have to do the decreasing part on top and that will be done, too!

Yes, a good knitting week all around (and around, and around, and around. Ha ha!)

Oh, and this weekend is Maine Alpaca Farms Open Weekend. Isn't that exciting? I think I will go to a couple of farms, one in my town and one in the town where I work (I need to pick up some stuff at school, so that works out nicely). Hopefully I will get to pet an Alpaca and fondle some yarn. What better way to spend a chilly but bright Saturday morning? This afternoon I'm off to cheer on our girls' volleyball team at their state championship. All in all, it should be a great day.

The kerchief is complete

2005-10-25T17:38:00.000-04:00

I'm feeling pretty happy about finishing the kerchief. It came out ok, I'd say. I used D.S.'s method for making the ties (cast on, then cast off) but I took a cue from Franklin's comment, and rather than make the ties then sew them on, I picked up a stitch in the corners and went from there. Not overly profound, but I guess you could say it was my first stab and straying (on purpose) from the pattern! I gotta start somewhere!

Anyhow, like I said before, I'm planning to give this to our niece. I think it should fit her considering it almost fits me (it will tie, but just looks a little silly 'cause the triangle part is so small), and her head's a lot smaller than mine. As she isn't here to model, I enlisted Racoona.

She was actually quite partial to it, so if our niece doesn't want it, Racoona will happily keep it for herself. She prefers to wear it as a babushka, though.

She really did ham it up for the camera.

Too kind!

2005-10-24T18:22:00.000-04:00

Thank you, thank you for the many suggestions for salvaging my poor chapeau. I haven't trashed it (in fact, I think it's still sitting on the lamp where it posed for the picture). I'm not sure about patches, as the holes are rather larger than they appear in the picture, and the one on the top is a particularly weird spot for a patch. But maybe...What I DO know is that I will knit me another hat, and this one will be better. I will consider flaws in the first one (flaws? In MY hat? No! Can you believe?) I will maybe make it a little bit shorter. I will try not to make the mistake that I made in the first one. Yes, my next hat will be even better. When I get to it.

Meanwhile, I've been practicing my increasing. I decided to knit the kerchief in SNB. It's off the needles--just need to make the ties for it (how does one sew them on?). I took it with me to a retreat we went to this past weekend. Once Phil got the wood stove going enough to make not wearing gloves possible, I set to work.

(Notice the US 10 holding back my hair.)

I am particularly proud of the edge. I think it came out rather well.

I'm going to give it to our niece as I don't really need it, and she would look lovely with it holding back her light blond locks. I used the same yarn as my wonderful rainbow scarf. Whether she wears it or not doesn't really matter much--I just wanted to practice increasing mostly, but this will be my first knitted gift!

I've also cast on for a baby hat (another gift, I assure you). Starting on DPNs was a wee bit tricky, but I think I've managed it. I hope to make fingerless gloves, but getting started on that project has raised a question for me. How does one do and measure a swatch when knitting in the round?

Ah...supper calls. And then a stack of papers to grade. Alas.

SOB!!!

2005-10-23T13:26:00.000-04:00

Nothing here but woe last Friday afternoon. Look at what my boys did!

(Sorry the image is fuzzy. It's difficult to focus when one is so distraught. Besides, this is how it looks through my puffy, tear-stained eyes.)

It's a good thing we went away this weekend without the pups. I'm building up the strength to buy more of the same yarn to start the process over again. Wish me luck (and wish the pups luck. Thank goodness they're cute, or else the Rottie down the street would no longer be Milton's worst nightmare. (Milton is healing well, by the way, and the Rottie's owners were thoroughly sorry and also very willing to pay the vet bill.))

My knitting skill increases yet again...

2005-10-17T19:12:00.000-04:00

Wow. Nothing happens and then everything happens. Let's take the latest events in order:

1) Thursday--weeeee-little Milton got roughed up by a rottweiler! He and the beagles were out for a walk with Nancy, our dog-walking lady (I'm sure the official title is something stuffy like 'dog-walker,' but we always call her 'our dog-walking lady.' At this point she's practically family). On the regular route they (and we) pass a house with a fenced in backyard. Every time we go by, the rottie barks his head off. My pups learned quickly to ignore him. That wasn't so easy on Thursday when he broke free from the fence and charged at Milton, picked him up, shook him, tossed him around a bit, and such. Poor Nancy did all she could to kick off the attacker (and lost her shoe in the process). Fortunately, some men were working on the trees in that very yard, and they pulled the rottie off of Milton who, according to Nancy, was screaming the whole time. Have you heard a dog scream? It's a very alarming sound. Miss Otis screamed too at the attacker, and Joe Pete? Well...he rolled over. But at least he didn't make any trouble or run away. Well, little Milton was traumatized and got carried home where he promptly hid in his box. Nancy came back later in the day to check on him and discovered that he had indeed been punctured by the Rottweiler. Punctured is the proper word--my little wiener pup has a hole in his side. Poor fella, but he's in super spirits--just as much trouble as always. That's how we know he's ok.

Whew. What else?

2) I learned a new knitting skill. I can increase! Which method, you ask? Debbie Stoler calls it the Bar Method. I almost ended up at a bar after trying to figure out what it means to knit into the back of a stitch, but I eventually got it. I returned to the gray yarn Franklin gave me on my maiden knitting voyage. Seemed like a comfortable way to practice. Here is the fruit of my labor:

It isn't much, but does it look right?

3) Fall is in the air, the school work is piling up, and that makes me want to bake--partly to celebrate the season and heat up the kitchen as the weather turns cooler, and partly to avoid the stacks of papers I need to grade. This Sunday I got together with Phil's mom and we made Italian cookies. See?

These cookies are made with a recipe my Italian grandmother always used. These cookies were one of the highlights of our trips to my grandparents' place in Michigan when I was a kid. My family didn't quite fit in on these visits as all of my mom's siblings lived in the area and were often at my grandparents' house. We were the ones from away who just came by for long weekends from time to time. We were quiet. We were small. My father didn't usually say two words on those trips (and he can be a chatty fella!) while my grandfather presided over a noisy table of my aunts and uncles--with everyone always talking loudly and always eating. I have such mixed memories of those visits. Franklin and I got along ok with our cousins, but we definitely were very different from them. And Franklin has stronger memories of the aunts, especially Auntie Eva, because he spent more time with them when he was younger. For me it was always a little strange, like being in a bit of a fog, or in an invisible bubble watching these folks roll through life. I always liked all my aunts and uncles, I just never really got to know them very well. I was never uncomfortable at my grandparents' house, and loved the orange-red shag carpet. I also loved playing Chinese Checkers with Franklin, and having him draw pictures for us on the endess supply of scrap paper my grandfather had--Franklin, what was all that paper? Where did it come from? It had to do with Stroughs, right? Anyhow, another of my fondest memories from every trip to Grandma and Grandpa's is the Italian cookies. They were always there. When we ate what we thought were the last cookies in the container, grandma would say, "Go down to the basement. There are more in the freezer." And there would always be more--tons more. I only ever saw her make them one time that I can remember, and for her it was a quick affair (this is shocking--the recipe starts with 7 cups of flour) with the dough spread out in a loaf from which she would pull a strand and in no time at all create four shapes--sticks, S's, twists, and wreaths. No cookie cutters for her. Whenever we made these cookies as kids, it was always a big production with sprinkles and fun cookie-cutter shapes. I still make them that way, but after my grandmother died I got into a semi-panic (as panicked as one can be about cookies) over the fact that I didn't know how to make the wreaths the way she did. Who knew how to do it? How would we ever have those again? I always set aside dough at the end of the batch now to practice, and I can't tell you my joy the day I figured it out (it isn't difficult, but I didn't even know how to begin--you can sort of see a couple of them in the middle-left side of the picture). One of these days I'll try making a whole batch grandma's way, but until then, it's owls and bats and acorns this time of year, and pretty soon I'll be cutting out trees and snowmen, bells and stars. These cookies, by the way, are my all-time favorite breakfast on Christmas morning.

Wow, I didn't expect to write so much about cookies. I still have one more bit of news, and it's happy news! I got THIS in the mail today:

Thanks, brother dear, for thinking of me when the Yarn Harlot was in town! On the inside she has written a lovely note about obsessions, and I am very excited to dive into the book. I just may be off to see her tomorrow as she has decided to keep her plans in Massachusetts. I'm super close to closing the deal with a friend who will ride down with me (she's going to be two hours away). Wish me luck.

Oh, and because I can't resist (Franklin--don't be mad), I have to tell you what else was in the package from my brother. This:

At first I thought it was a note, then I thought it was the receipt for the book, and finally I thought it could be a cryptic message. Now I just think Franklin likes veggie burritos and the receipt was in the bag he wrapped the book in, but isn't it a silly little window into Franklin's life? Plus, it has a clever little bit of slang on it: "foil shizzle." Shizzle is all that these days (actually, it just may be on its way out...but, you know, whatever).

Off to grade (or more likely, to knit).

Almost...done...

2005-10-12T07:28:00.000-04:00

30 pages written. One section to add tonight. Then I send it.

Jargon has been kept to a minimum. Must.Stop.Mumbling.About.DiscourseandGenreTheory...

Works cited and annotated bibliography to update, but still have time for those.

No need for SOS or Mayday just yet.

On a happier note, I'm wearing the scarf I spent the summer knitting. I am happy.

Dude, check out my hat!

2005-10-09T17:06:00.000-04:00

It's done! I did it! Woo hoo!!!!!! (I'm not proud, oh no.) Yippieeee!!!!! See?

And here's what it looks like from above (except the color is all screwy, but I think you can still see the neat starfish-like pattern made by the decreases).

I've pretty much worn the hat since its completion. The weather got conveniently colder, and as we're not planning to run the heat on so high a temperature as last year (considering the cost of heating oil these days), it is perfectly reasonable for me to wear a hat in the house. In fact, it has become known as my thinking hat these past two days, as most of my time has gone over to writing my *&$#*% research paper about research papers for my masters degree.

Here I am working on my paper and keeping all snuggly-warm at the same time.

I'm on page 27, with the recommended page amount being in the range of 25-30. I need to write a conclusion, add a couple of short sections, complete general revisions, and submit a nearly-final draft by Wednesday. I'm less nervous about this than I was yesterday when I was on page 16 and managed to write three pages in the whole of yesterday afternoon/evening. Today was much more productive, but I think yesterday was necessary for grappling with my professor's comments from the last draft. (Her comments basically amounted to saying I needed to use more graduate student lingo like 'genre theory' and 'discourse.' I had hoped to make it all the way through the 30 credits without having to really understand all of that jargon, but my Prof. sort of called me on it. Much of yesterday was spent convincing myself that I wasn't a graduate student sham about to be called on the carpet and failed at the last possible turn just before obtaining the darn degree.) Anyhow, I've printed my 27 pages and I'm letting cook overnight. I'll read it all tomorrow, make preliminary revision notes, and maybe write the conclusion. Thank goodness for the three-day weekend.

Oh, and how could I forget? I went to my first open knit night at my very LYS (it's called Spin Me a Yarn and is located on Rte. 25 west of Gorham village--its name and location were requested in a comment awhile back, and I'm just now responding! Sorry for the delay!). I met a knitter called Ellen, and a mother/daughter team of knitters called Lisa and Katie. All were charming, as was store owner Heather who has been very encouraging. Lisa and Katie were quite a riot. Katie is in 3rd grade and was finishing up a small purse, while her mother was working on something very colorful (though what it was intended tobe, I've quite forgotten). The funny part was that Lisa kept forgetting how to purl (Katie showed her twice), and eventually they just switched projects when Lisa got to a row that needed purling, and Katie gave it back to her mom when the row was done. Ellen was working on a shrug--or shoulderette. Heather said that was an older term for it--and boy could she knit fast! Heather was making baby shoes (I couldn't help thinking of the Yarn Harlot's temporary obsession with the things). I worked away on my hat and very nearly completed it there. I mentioned to Heather that I had made a mistake in the hat which resulted in goofy-looking section I have decided to call 'the back,' and she pointed out that in the days of yore, young ladies who practiced various stitchery arts (samplers and such) always worked in an error lest they be considered vain for their ability to create something perfectly. Yes, that's just why I made the mistake and left it in! Heather is wonderful. Heck, the mistake also taught me a little something about decreasing, and for that I am thankful I made it (on my hat, not someone else's). I also browsed patterns for my next project. I have committed to nothing as of yet. My paper has truly consumed me of late. I'm thinking of making a few more hats for folks, including the babies that are on the way to many of my friends, but I'm also pondering making a baby blanket for one of them. I'm terrified of the scope of the thing, but I' m confident I could do it.

Oh, the best thing about meeting Ellen is that she might go with me to see the Yarn Harlot in Acton, MA next week!

Meanwhile, with all of the knitting, writing, and rain, the puppies have been left pretty much to amuse themselves indoors, which as resulted in a great deal of pillow-unstuffing and vicious-looking (but not really dangerous) wrestling in the kitchen. See?

Ah, time to clean this place up and spread some puppy lovin'.

Yes, no, and it all DPNs

2005-09-30T16:49:00.000-04:00

Yes! I'm still alive!

No! The hat's not done.

BUT it is on DPNs now. What a fascinating concept. Using four needles seemed exceptionally scary to me, but I had to do it to stick to the pattern for my hat, so I did. I can't say I am loving the experience of knitting with them, but I'm eager to get to the decreasing part of the hat and see how it all works out. 19 more rows to go before I get to that fun part.

Yes, we had a wonderful weekend in Ogunquit.

No, I didn't find a yarn shop there (but still had a good time).

Will I go to the Fryburg Fair? It all DPNs. We haven't gone in a few years, but I have this new appreciation for wool, so I'm thinking it might be worth a trip. I'm going to hit the Cumberland Fair tomorrow; I'm excited to eat onion rings and see about some homespun. Not sure what I'll find, but I know it's one of the many items that can be judged and win prizes at the fair (like giant pumpkins, apple pies, and cows).

Here are some pics from the Ogunquit trip.

There were great views (tee hee! That's my honey!)

The room was adorable. The bed came down out of the wall. Very mysterious. There was a kitckenette area with a mid-sized fridge, a sink, a microwave, and a dishwasher. Very strange. We had spectacular weather and delicious meals. No pups. Ok, we missed them a little, but it was nice not to get a) stepped on in the night; b) clawed at in the morning; c) peed on when we walked in the door (Milton is SO excited to see us sometimes!); or d) barked at to open the door every thirty-seven seconds. Here's the room.

Ogunquit beach is one of my favorites in Maine. It has super-soft, fine sand like a favorite beach back in Hawaii (know which one I'm talking about, Mom, Dad, and Franklin?). I am forever amazed by the tide which can make this beach fifty feet wide or ten feet wide, depending. It was out on our morning walks, so we enjoyed the scenery and these delightful little birds called Peeps (we didn't get too close, but I don't think these were made of marshmallow).

I haven't written all week for a variety of reasons. On Wednesday night we had an event of sorts at our house. Several friends and neigbhors came over to discuss ballot question 1 up here in Maine. The referendum has the aim of overturning a law enacted this spring by our legislature (including my honey!) . The law added 'sexual orientation' to our civil rights law so that folks can't be kicked out of their houses or fired for their jobs for sharing their lives with someone of the same sex. A mess of folks with no decency got enough signatures to get the question on the ballot, so now we have this campaign on our hands to keep the law as it is. Many towns in Southern Maine already have ordinances of this nature. We're just trying to make it stick at the state level. Wish us luck.

Anyhow, getting ready for Wednesday meant Monday and Tuesday went exclusively to getting the house in ship-shape for visitors.

Thursday I stayed late at school for a long, boring meeting and then had to get sub plans ready for today. The best thing about that was the sky I observed when I finally left school. Isn't this lovely?

Today--went to a conference. Took knitting. Not the hat. That takes too much of my concentration. Ended up not knitting because I had to cast on, and I forgot that I still have to concentrate to do that. Oh well.

My sentences are shrinking. Time to stop. More later.

Hat, Dog, and Spider

2005-09-22T17:40:00.000-04:00

Please tell me I am not the only person to ever do this while working on a hat (especially a first hat):

On the dog front, Miss Otis discovered a new trick. See where she can get to now? Notice the food bucket to the left? Do you smell trouble? I do. (Thanks for not noticing the leaves and cloud-like cotton poofs on the floor. Milton likes to add a touch-of-nature theme to the interior decorating around here.) But how do you scold such a face? Obviously I don't. Instead I run for the camera. There is almost nothing this dog won't do when it comes to getting her dinner (I'm similar about chocolate).

Finally, a few days back I posted about the spider that has set up housekeeping outside my classroom window. I thought he/she had gone, but no. Must have been on a fieldtrip. This time I had my camera handy and snapped a picture for you all to see.

From this perspective, the spider's as big as a station wagon. Sheesh!

Last night was open house at school, and I was thankful that the parents couldn't really see the spider (because it was dark outside). I don't know if parents would be as cool about spiders as the kids are. They might see it as bad housekeeping. One young man in my Composition class always wants to feed bugs to the spider. Honestly, there are always a few in the web, and last night between classes of parents, I watched the spider carry a bug around for a bit and then wrap it up in a cacoon-like thing. This morning that bug was totally gone. Too bad I can't set up spider-cam. He/she is really quite active. Does anyone know what spiders do in the winter? (Oh dear. I hope the answer isn't "come inside.")

Around and Around I go

2005-09-20T17:51:00.000-04:00

This circular knitting thing? Love it. Plus these are the first metal needles I've used, and they are way cool. I am so enjoying the making of this hat. At the moment it makes an excellent headband for my racoon. See?

One of the biggest struggles I've faced lately (directly related to the addition of knitting to my list of possible things-to-do) is that good knitting time seems to be identical to good reading time. There's conflict for me. I sure can't read and knit (though I know some folks claim the skill). At school I give my students free reading time, and I try my best to read with them. Today I just felt like knitting. I'm making the best of it though because right now I'm reading Yarn Harlot's book. Very entertaining. I will have to ask Franklin how he handles this dilemma as he is indeed an avid reader (and always has been). He individually hand-wrapped in brown paper all of his books (and there were zillions of them even then) when he was in high school and we had to make a cross-country move. He always had two or three books going at one time. Now with this knitting, I want to know what's happening to the reading. I'm talking about serious internal conflict here. What to do? Read knitting books?

Franklin's post today has some cartoon drawings he did. This immediately threw me back to the days of my youth when he drew stuff for me all the time. Paper dolls, book covers, drawings to put on my binder, pictures on the inside covers of my student planner. Whatever. It was all good. I'm going to see if I can scrounge up some of those Franklin originals. They already mean a lot to me, but heck, they may become collector's items soon enough!

Do the Happy Dance!

2005-09-18T21:16:00.000-04:00

I finished my scarf! Yes! Three balls of yarn and two months later, it is done. I am happy. I have danced. I have even pranced and posed in my newest creation. Oh, I feel good. Here it is!

And because I was so very excited, I could not stop at just one picture. Oh no. So here it is again.

And because two pictures is hardly enough, here is yet another. No, it's not a real piano scarf, but every scarf can dream, right?

With the scarf done, I have now begun my next official project. So far, I am proud of two things. 1) I wound the yarn into a lovely yarn ball with the string pulling out from a hole in it. I never thought I could do such a thing. 2) I have begun my first project on circular needles, and I think it's going ok so far. Here is a picture (with gratuitous dog addition--but look at that face! He's calculating how to get onto the table to take my yarn ball and project!)

By the way, I'm making a hat. Not sure whose head it will fit, but there will be time to make those determinations later. I got the yarn and pattern from my VERY LYS, and...oh boy, oh boy...there is going to be an open knit night there in October and I am planning to go! I can hardly contain myself! I'm extremely curious who will make up my town's public knitting community. I hope I'll be able to sleep tonight for all of this weekend's knitting excitement. Ah, it feels good to finish and to start a project!

Creepy Crawly darlings

2005-09-15T19:47:00.000-04:00

Way to lose the two regular readers I have--post only once a week! (Mom! Brother-dear! I hope you're both still out there!)

The classroom next to mine belongs to a biology teacher. The other day he came through the little closet that joins our two rooms with a clear plastic box in his hands. "Look what I got!" he said. And he placed on my desk this box which was teaming with Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches. "Aren't they cute?" he said? All the while I kept saying over and over again, "What are you doing? Don't put them there. Get them off my desk." Then he did the unthinkable. He opend the box. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I kept saying, as I tried to recede into my deskchair which I tried to push through the wall behind my desk. I was cornered. Trapped! When I thought it couldn't get any worse, he picked one up! "REALLY," I said, "Please stop. Put that back. I'm not kidding." When he reached towards me with the thing the look on my face and the muttering I spouted must have finally registered, and he returned the bug to its box with a laugh. "That's just why I got them," he said. And he explained about people's fears of bugs which are harmless and swell once you get to know them. Well, with the lid on the box again, I uncurled from my chair and straightened up a bit. I was sorry not to be a more forward-thinking, bug-loving individual, but there it was. The three-inch cockroaches disgusted me. My neighborly teacher said he'd be storing them in our closet until he introduced them to all of his students. Great. That's the closet where I store my candy stash. My kleenex. And now some very large bugs would be living in that very dark little closet.

Whenever I went into the closet to fish out some supply or other, I slowly opened the door and peaked my head around behind it to where the cockroach box was set. I guess I just wanted to make sure they were there, inside the box, and not inside MY boxes. I kept hoping that when I looked at them they would be less repulsive to me, but that hasn't happened yet. I still leave the door wide open (sometimes frantically fighting the door's tendency to close on its own). Sure, I can look at them a bit more than I could before, but I still get those bad kinds of chills just thinking about them. It was all I could do to find the link above. When I clicked on it from google, I leaned back as far from the screen as I could with the mouse positioned so that I could quickly close the window if necessary. I think the science teacher hopes that by the end of the year I'll be holding one of those hissing cockroaches (I've heard the hiss, by the way. Turns out, that's my favorite quality about them. It's their least buggy feature), but...well, I just shivered and shook again sitting here at the mere thought of it.

Where am I going with this? I guess I'm exploring my relationship with bugs (hope you're not eating lunch). I'm not really into killing things, but I've taken out my share of mosquitos. But anything larger than a mosquito? Can't do it. I want it dead, or at least gone, but I can't kill anything with any sort of...density to it. This irks my husband, as I am frequently the one to spy a bug that gets where it doesn't belong, and I insist he remove it from the house. Sometimes these bugs get squashed. Sometimes just escorted outside.

But when it comes to spiders...well, there's a love-hate relationship. One day I woke up to a three inch cane spider on the wall above the bed at my friend's house (where I had spent the night). I did not sleep in that room again. For some reason the floor in the office downstairs seemed less frightening. Go figure. But I called that spider Bob, and I didn't really wish him ill the way I did for the occasional house-crashing cockroach who found his or her way inside when we lived in Hawaii. Is it because spiders make webs? Is it because Charlotte is literarily minded? Is it because spiders aren't actually bugs (No, see, spiders have two body sections and 8 legs. Your average bug has three sections and six legs. The things I learn working next to a science teacher!) I don't know, but something about spiders intrigues rather than disgusts. I don't want to touch them or let them sleep on my pillow, but I don't mind seeing them. For a long time we caught spiders in the house and put them outside. Then recently Phil read in the alamanac that the spiders in our house are primarily house spiders, not outdoor spiders who take a wrong turn. Nope. Those spiders that occasionally appear on your kitchen wall have probably never spent a day outside in their short spider lives. Sending them out, however kindly intentioned, is like sentencing them to death.

There is now a large-ish spider outside my classroom window. He (or she) is about an inch big or so, and has made a web in the corner of one of the two opening windows I have. Fortunately that particular window doesn't open wide, so we can open it all the way and not bother the spider. The students are bound to notice such a creature, and so they have noticed this one. I found myself somewhat shrilly saying above their cries of disgust and delight "DON'T touch that spider or its web! You can look, but DO NOT TOUCH!"

Sometimes teenage boys can't control themselves. One of my little cherubs (who isn't that little, nor that cherubic, but who usually behaves himself) shot a rubberband through the web. It tore half of it down and sent the spider scuddling to the outer edges of its creation. You'd have thought he shot the rubberband at me. It was the end of class, so the kiddo escaped without facing my full wrath (that happens when I see him again tomorrow). When my next class came in, I was still fuming. I immediately pointed the spider out to them and said how upset I was because another student had thrown something through the web. Several kids laughed and said how they'd do that, too. Well, you can maybe imagine the hush that fell when I gave them the look--the one my mother reserved for special occasions. I said to them, "You may not like spiders, or maybe you love them. Whatever the case, it has upset me deeply that someone wrecked that spider's web. Imagine filling a whole page with writing. Now imagine someone coming along and ripping out half of it." As I was saying the bit about the writing, I thought that it was probably a bad analogy. I value writing. Do these kids? But the snickering and laughing didn't start up again, and the smiles faded. I insisted that we enjoy the spider who had set itself up in a spectacular place for us to view it, but that we must not bother it. Suddenly, it became our mascot. Someone suggested we name it. I said we'd have to see if it was still there the next day. "I'd move," I said, "if someone did to me what happened to it."

But it was still there today, and it had repaired its web. No one was in the room with me when I did it, but I thanked the spider for giving us another chance.

Now the cockroaches are out in the science teacher's class. They no longer watch me look for glue sticks and construciton paper or hiss at me when I look closely to count and make sure they're all there. Will I ever feel about them the way I do about the spider? Or will they always repulse me?

Maybe if they spell something with their woodchips. Then I'd come around.

A Bad Day, Politically

2005-09-08T17:40:00.000-04:00

Today was a fine enough day at school. We had nice weather, the students were generally agreeable. No trouble with the usual routine. The trouble today is all political.

First, we got an email at school today that said, and I quote:

On September 16, 2005, schools across the country will have to celebrate Constitution Day with some educational programming on the U.S. Constitution. This provision was included in the federal appropriations bill last year by Senator Robert Byrd (D-WV). Because the original date in the statue, September 17th, falls on a Saturday; it will be celebrated this year on September 16th. In order to aid AASA membership in complying with this new provision, we have worked with the Center for Civic Education to develop a Constitution Day curriculum appropriate for each grade. These lesson plans cover many federal concepts such as the formation of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, the branches of government and therefore the balance of power.

Aside from the typos and flagrant misuse of the semicolon, the first sentence made me particularly uhappy--"schools across the country will have to celebrate Constitution Day." My first thought was that this smacked a bit of Big Brother. I mean, mandated celebrations? Hello? Boy, I can't wait to do some educational programming on the Consitution.

Don't get me wrong, I like the Constitution as much as the next person--heck, I have a pocket-sized edition in my pencil case--but something about this just feels ALL WRONG. I don't know; maybe I'm being cynical. Am I being cynical? Why doesn't the government mandate celebrating the constitution at home? Or heck, why not celebrate the Constitution the way we celebrate other historical events and figures--with a day off! And to prove that I'm not just looking for another holiday, make the day off ELECTION DAY. I think that's about the finest way ever to celebrate the Constitution.

I spent a wee bit of time with my feathers ruffled about Constitution Day, but I felt better after I replied to the email with a brief (and only slightly smarmy--or snarky?) commentary and then a request for more information about what exactly is required.

As if Constitution Day weren't enough excitement for Sept. 16, I heard a most alarming (to me, anyway) story on NPR as I drove home. Seems that GWB has declared Sept. 16 a National Day of Prayer for the victims of Hurricane Katrina.* Don't believe me? Look here. In fact, here are his words which just about caused me to drive North to Canada instead of Southwest to my home: "I ask that we pray, as Americans have always prayed in times of trial, with confidence in His purpose, with hope for a brighter future and with the humility to ask God to keep us strong, so we can better serve our brothers and sisters in need." Hello? (I say again) Whatever happened to the Separation of Church and State? I think Bush and Co. forget about the words "separation of." If that's the case, all this "church and state" stuff makes sense. Way to alienate large portions (I guess they aren't large or loud enough) of the population. I don't know about you, but my understanding of faith is that I don't need the President to remind me to pray or pick out a day for it. Seems he ought to be urging us to care in a secular way while making things happen to actually improve the lives of those affected. I think plenty of folks have been doing lots of praying right along since this storm even thought about heading towards land. Or maybe they didn't, and that's why it hit. Of course. Thanks, GWB, for setting us back on The Path.

ARRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!

I need to go pet a puppy.

*I'm trying to say Hurricane Katrina (not just Katrina). This morning our school bulletin, which we read to our homerooms, said, "We welcome your ideas in helping the victims of Katrina." I felt the need to say, "the hurricane, not the student." We have a fine young lady called Katrina in our school. Don't want her to feel accused of anything unpleasant!

An alternate perspective

2005-09-07T18:03:00.000-04:00

For their first writing assignment, I asked my Composition students to write informally in about two pages who they are as writers. I gave them a list of questions to help them think about this topic--questions like, who taught you to write? What's the first thing you remember writing? What's something you've written that you're proud of? How has school affected your writing life? etc. etc. I was both surprised and not surprised by their answers, but in their usual way, the kids managed to blow my mind over all. Here are some of their thoughts:

"Even though emails and Instant Messages lack topic sentences and proper conclusions, I still believe that they are considered writing."

"I would like to think that I am an amazing writer who never makes mistakes. I know, however, that this is not true."

"My earliest memories of learning how to write start when I learned how to write cursive. I ended up forgetting it completely so I guess that was a waste of time."

"My favorite subject in school has always been English; however, high school seemed to change all that. Before high school English class was fun, a let-loose kind of class I guess you could call it. I don't know if it's the vocabulary or the grammar or just the research paper...I guess it's just because I don't have any interests in writing if I'm not interested in what I'm writing about."

"...as the years began to pass and I had to write plain and boring papers again, my writing level dropped."

"So, in short, I think school killed any love for writing I had."

"Well I do not know if I am bold enough to say I like writing, I'll leave it at that. I enjoy writing more than usual if it's about something I like."

"Overall, I would say that I am a student of writing not just in English class, but a student of writing everyday of my life."

Can you see why this stuff gets me fired up? I'm not surprised by it because I KNOW that writing on our interests and inquiries make writing enjoyable. I know that kids don't get better at writing (in general) by writing on assigned, irrelevant topics. I know all of that. I believe it.

I'm surprised, though, because I was starting to forget. Just last night they had to write a one page reader response to a short essay. I gave them three prompts and they could choose one. I thought the choice would be helpful. They said it was, but they didn't enjoy the essay or the assignment. Is school about fun and enjoyment? Is it my job to entertain kids? Does it have to be hard or painful to be good for them?

The kids blew my mind because they pointed out obvious things we always forget--writing has got to be meaningful. Now some might say, "Ah, but in life we must write things that we aren't interested in. Who likes writing a resume? Who wants to type memos for work?" But those examples have inherent in them an important purpose. There is something in it for the writer--maybe getting a new job or keeping a current one. Writing just because a teacher tells us to is about the worst purpose there could possibly be.

They broke my heart with those thoughts about school ruining writing and English class that used to be fun.

Tonight--I revise my thinking. My planning. Our year started off great--lots of laughing, even some learning already I think, but today took a nose-dive with that meaningless assignment. What's the point in teaching technique to students who are writing for me and me alone?

If I think of something brilliant, I'll let you know how it turns out. All I know for sure is that I have to listen to the students. I asked for their thoughts--it would be foolish to ignore them.

On a completely unrelated note, there is an absolutely beautiful bush blooming right outside my house. Really! It's lovely. Can't remember what it's called--I'd have to look in an old gardening notebook that I can't at the moment find--but here's a picture of it:

The bees like this bush, which is one of the reasons I like it. I imagine that the bees are happy. Maybe they aren't. Maybe they are totally stressed out--all these blooms, got to get that pollen, the queen's in a tizzy. I hope not. I'd rather think they see this bush as a goldmine. Woohoo, they might be thinking. Jackpot! I can get my whole pollen stash here. Yessssss.

Here is a bee hard at work (but hopefully happy at work):

I need to get to work myself. This rethinking of Composition class is the kind of work I like to think the bees are doing--challenging, but happy.

My brother taught me to knit

2005-09-06T17:04:00.000-04:00

I've made this comment several times since school started. See, I've been doing this activity called "Partner Grid" in most of my classes, and it involves asking a partner a topic question and then a handful of follow-ups. My topics have been "What's something new that happened to you this summer?" and "What was a good learning experience in or out of school?" I have to model this process before I set the kiddos loose with it, so in my modeling I have on four occasions now said that I learned to knit this summer. It is a satisfactory answer to both questions. Inevitably, a follow-up question comes along in the form of "Who taught you?" I proudly proclaim, "My brother!" I'll be honest...this causes a few eyebrows to raise. The knitting club at school is not populated by boys (too bad, but at least we have the club). Anyhow, the eyebrows go up, someone says, "Really?", and then kids do one of the things I like best about them--adjust. I know we talk about high school kids being all uptight and high strung, but that tends to be about what they should wear or where they should sit in class or whether or not they can take the pass to go to the bathroom, but when they hear about something that's outside their immediate zone of undertsanding, they can be surprisingly accepting--more so than most adults I've met, anyway.

I'm also working on my hip vocabulary again (hip isn't such a hip thing to say these days). Some of this (I have since learned) is recycled, but it's new to me and hip to them:

ill--if something is ill, it's cool. "That outfit's ill."
sick--same deal as 'ill.' "Your car is sick!"
kicks--shoes. "Those are some ill kicks." (This was not said to me. I apparently have thoroughly uncool kicks.)

"Ill" and "sick" I learned about last year. "Kicks" is new to me. I did, however, totally impress one class by saying, "Get off my grill," which apparently means "Back off."

In the fashion word, wee half-sweaters are in. The Yarn Harlot can prove it.
Also, old-looking jeans. When I was in high school, ripped jeans were cool, but for us that meant ripped right through the knee, thigh, or if you were really something special, just below the rump. Now it's more like frayed than ripped.
I'm not sure about ponchos. They might be back, but it's been too warm to say for sure.
A freshmen had his cap on inside out, but I think he was just being goofy.
White sneakers are in for the boys--bright white. When I was in high school, new-looking sneakers were soooooooo out.
Lacy-looking camisoles. (For the girls.) Yep. Underwear as outerwear. Flimsy cotton, dental floss straps, and lacy business all along the neckline--which isn't really a neck line; it's closer to a bust line.
Fortunately, I have yet to see any thongs sticking out from the back of too-low rise jeans (what an improvement over last year).
Also, super-short skirts are not as prevalent.

I'll keep you posted.

On the knitting front, I keep knitting my scarf. Last night I knit four whole rows in bed (with the finished bit of scarf wrapped around my neck--it's gettin' chilly way up here in the north). At this rate, I'll be done by spring. Franklin has whipped out another scarf in the course of, oh, say forty-two seconds. He is forever my idol.

Must make plans for tomorrow, get ready for an evening meeting, scrape together dinner, and feed the dogs. And knit. I will knit more tonight--maybe even five or six whole rows. Sigh.

Sandwiches and Cereal

2005-09-02T17:15:00.000-04:00

It is difficult for me to believe that I was on an island in the middle of a lake (which itself is on an island--deep) just a week ago. I got to the island on my own power (and maybe a little more on my husband's--no costly gas burned up in that endeavor!), and I was eating a ham sandwich and dry apple jacks.

I had a similar sandwich and similar cereal today, so where was my kayak and the island in the lake on the island? Ahh....sigh.

Aside from sandwiches and cereal, everything is different. I had my lunch at a picnic table under sunny skies (not so bad) while serving "lunch duty." Way to kill a beautiful day. Ok, lunch duty isn't the end of the universe, but I didn't have lunch duty all summer and was certainly better off for the omission.

Yes, SCHOOL is back in. And heck...we're lucky! Really. I've had a great start to my year. My class sizes are a wee bit up from last year, but at least they aren't about to double with kids bused in from a stadium (having been bused to that stadium from another stadium--it's like my island and the lake and the island, only horrible!).

Like most folks who watch the news or read the paper, I keep wondering why things aren't happening faster in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama. Or differently. Why are people still struggling in ecologically unfriendly ooze and not setting up shop in (at the very least) clean, fresh tents with clean, fresh water and food? But then I think, I'm not there. I don't know. I can't know. I've never directly helped folks in a disaster area. I don't work for FEMA. What do I know? I second guess my comments about the slowness of things constantly. It's got to be stressful. It's got to be hard. Even ol' GWB, whom I love to hate--I don't know what it's like to be a president and deal with such a situation. I'm not impressed with what he's saying, but what do I wish he were saying? And would my dislike of him make me hate anything he utters?* I also hate that getting to criticize him means people are hurting (especially because I like when he gets criticized). Same anguish in regards to the war. Gah. I want things to go right in Iraq. I want things to go right in the South. Even if GWB looks good because of it--and that's saying a lot! I just wonder...where were the buses when word went round to leave town before the storm hit? That's all, I guess.

But I'm way up in Maine. Our gas prices are stinky like everyone else's (though not so bad as some places, and our cars get good gas mileage), but other than that, life is peachy. The sun is shining, the humidity is dropping, and the biggest difficulty I faced today was lunch duty--at which nothing untoward happened. Two past students even stopped by my table to say hey.

I read Rabbitch's latest blog entry in which she noted that hurricane victims would give a lot to have her bad day instead of theirs. I guess it's all about balance. If we felt horrible for our good fortune because everyone didn't share it, then there would be no good fortune. There are people suffering everywhere all the time. But if we go about our happy lives giving no thought whatsoever to those in difficult situations, well, that just isn't right either. How do we achieve the proper balance? How do we do all we can without sacrificing all we have? I guess we donate money, items, time, whatever we can do. We teach our children (whose biggest troubles involve getting new shoes dirty during today's fire drill) about compassion. But we have to do it without diminishing their rights to feel bad about the dirt on the shiny white sneakers. Pride in oneself and one's appearance can do a lot for self-esteem. It's that balance thing again.

No answers here...just the honest desire to think about it and maybe do a little something. That's better than turning a blind eye, I guess.

*You know how it is with folks you dislike intensely, right? There comes a point when they walk past you in the hallway and you say to your best buddy, "Can you believe she walked by me? I mean gosh. There are other hallways in this building." Or you notice they're breathing, and you think, "What makes him so special? He's got a lot of nerve." When completed by the one you hate, any action seems abominable, no matter how benign.

The perfect vacation...even with pee

2005-08-28T10:56:00.000-04:00

We are back from a week on Mount Desert Island in Maine. There is no finer place in the state; I am sure of this. We stayed in a charming cottage on Frenchman's Bay, into which we settled immediately upon arriving on Saturday evening. You can see the domestic bliss for yourself.

Across from Phil and Joe Pete is a lovely fireplace crackling away and adding rather effectively to the charm of the place. On our second night, we toasted marshmallows and made s'mores.

Sunday, our first day of hiking, was gray and misty and foggy. This was not so much a problem as perhaps it sounds. We hiked Parkman and Bald Mountains--lovely hikes. Ok, so we couldn't see the view, but we have seen Acadia National Park views before and knew we would see them again. We enjoyed the coolness of the day and will likely do these hikes again--they were so fun! The pups are amazing hikers. They even help pull us up at the steepest parts. Joe Pete, who whimpered and had to be lifted off of the bed, will scale equally high clefts of rock above ravines with no difficulty. Instincts, I guess. Here is the view we saw from the top of Parkman. I'm sure there was ocean and mountain out there, but we couldn't see it (and my glasses kept fogging up which struck me was funny rather than annoying--it's quite something to literally walk in the clouds).

Monday dawned beautiful and clear and took us up Acadia Mountain. Not too high but steep in places and fun to climb, and the summit was sheer delight. Here is a better sense of the view from these mountain peaks.

Miss Otis was eager to go over the ledge behind us--an actual trail--but we had already planned to go back the way we came, so we're saving that particular route down for another day.

Tuesday involved a trip to the beach below our cabin, and I mean BELOW. At high tide, the stairs down end in deep water. At low tide, there is a wide rocky shore to explore. All along the coast are enormous sea caves. We'd be done for without scuba gear in this very spot at high tide!

After the beach walk, we hiked up St. Sauveur, Acadia's twin peak (sort of). There was no view at the top--too many trees, but a short hike from there to Valley Peak provided us with one of the best lunch spots we found all week. Joe Pete appreciated views more than Miss Otis who, when she wasn't sharing our snacks, wanted to GO GO GO!!! Here is Joe Pete and the view.

Wednesday was our big hike day. We hiked up Penobscot (the first mountain we ever hiked in Acadia some years back) and from there went on to Sargent Mountain, the second highest peak on the island. The first highest is Cadillac Mountain. We hiked that on our first trip. While I feel very accomplished for having done such a hike, getting to the top is rather a disappointment. The view is spectacular, but Cadillac is the only mountain in the park with a road that goes to the top of it. So after a long, hot climb, we came around the bend and found before us the following: 1) a gift shop; 2) black-stretch-pants-and-high-heeled-sandles-clad tourists; 3) a parking lot; 4) no bottled water at the gift shop (last bottle purchased by said black-clad tourist). We ate our lunch that day hunkered under some trees on a little island in the sea of pavement. So Sargent is a much more exciting place to arrive and only 200 feet shorter than Cadillac. The climb was much more pleasant, too. Here is Phil on top of Penobscot with Sargent looming in the background.

And here is what such a hike does to good hiking puppies:

We were all quite tired after our exciting climb, and the next day was spent in relaxing persuits. We spent part of the day at Seawall, a lovely spot on the southwestern side of the island. We had a little picnic, explored the tide pools, read, wrote letters, and of course, knit!! This part of our vacation is where the extraneous pee comes in. Remeber the title of this entry? Miss Otis decided, all on a whim, to pee on that blanket. Very strange. As this blanket is Joe Pete's nightly sleeping place, something had to be done, so part of the afternoon was spent at the laundry mat in Bar Harbor. You know what? We were having such a good vacation that the whole pee situation didn't dampen our spirits at all (ha ha! That's for you, dad.) We just popped the blanket into the laundry machines and walked around town a bit.

I don't think the following qualifies as extreme knitting, but it would if it were high tide. I'd be about ten feet under water. I didn't end up starting my new project. I just worked on my good ol' scarf. It's got two balls of yarn into it now, and I think it will just take one more to be an appropriate length (and boy hasn't it already been around my kneck several times! What joys!)

We also drove up Cadillac to catch a sunset.

Our last full day found us in a Kayak on Great Long Pond (which was in fact both great and long). The pups missed out on this adventure, but I think they were happy to have the day off. I'll admit to being terrified as we started out. I have not kayaked before (ok, once in Hawaii but that seemed strangely less frightening and tippy). After a while, though, I settled in and had fun. We found a lovely little island in the middle of the pond on which to have our lunch, and Phil even went for a swim. I also (I can't believe I'm blogging this) took my first pee in the woods on that little island. It was quite a liberating experience, if not a bit drafty. Here is Phil at our lunch spot (see the kayak? And what a view!!)

I'm leaving out lots about our trip, like tea on the lawn at Jordan Pond (Phil had lemonade, but I dutifully had a pot of delicious tea). We ate baked brie and fresh popovers. Also tomato basil bisque and a yummy salad. We also ate at the most delicious steakhouse on the planet (sorry, ye vegetarians). The place is called Jack Russell's, named after a rather fiesty Jack Russell terrier who didn't like people, dogs, fun, or any of the usual dog persuits but who did like good food and good beer. Anyhow, I liked eating at a place named after a pooch, and they made the very best onion rings ever. These were so good that on our last day we stopped in and picked up an order to go. I took a picture of them, but as Phil pointed out, they only look good to me. To the average viewer who didn't share the experience, a photo of fried food looks rather unpleasant. Let's see...what else? We tasted wine at a winery and beer at a brewery (and bought some of each). We enjoyed the town of Bar Harbor, of course. I love tourists. We had great meals and did a speck of shopping. We walked out to Bar Island, only reachable on foot at low tide. Phil had blueberry pancakes and I had blueberry pie for breakfast. We ate blueberries we picked on the trail (but only ones way back from the edge, having watched Joe Pete water a few of the bushes close to the path). One night our dinner consisted entirely of yummy cheese and a loaf of bread. I'm noticing that my non-hiking adventures are pretty much centered around food. So be it. We ate and hiked our way through a glorious week.

If you've read this far, thanks for sticking it out. I enjoyed remembering these moments and will be glad to have this record! (I also kept notes about each day in my journal.)

School starts--gasp!--tomorrow for teachers, Wednesday for students, but I need to remember that vacations wouldn't be half so fabulous if they happened every day, right? Thanks of course to my pups and my honey for such a perfect week (and to Julie and Maureen and their partners who watched Milton back at home...from all counts he, too, had a great week.)

Back in a week...

2005-08-20T07:30:00.000-04:00

As is a sort-of-tradition, Phil and I are heading up to Mount Desert Island--home of Acadia National Park--for a week of hiking and relaxing. The timing is kind of weird. It's the last week before school starts, so this past week at home has been kind of like the end of my summer vacation, at least the part of it that includes errand-running and miscellaneous visiting with friends. But I love Acadia; it could very well be my favorite place in Maine. Here's a picture from our last trip:

This should be a good time. We are bringing the Beagles who have been twice before, but Milton will be staying with friends. He's kinda short for some of the up-hill jumps he'd have to make on several of the hikes, plus, well, I'm thinking of this as sending my most talkative child to summer camp. It will be a nice break from the yipping and yapping! I think he will have lots of fun with my friends who will probably spoil him rotten.

In preparation for our trip, I have packed our bags (mostly...not quite done yet), and I have packed bags for the dogs.

In Milton's bag is a note with lots of details about how to live with him.

I showed it to Phil last night. He said, "So by the time she's done reading this, we'll be back and knocking on her door to pick him up." I don't think I wrote too much. I see it more as a letter, a character profile, if you will. I'll include it here, though if you don't know Milton, it probably won't be that interesting to you. Heck, if you do know Milton it might still bore you to tears. If sleepiness occurs, stop reading! I'll close before including the Milton notes. I most likely won't blog until we get back. Our cottage is pretty swell, but I don't think it has internet, and we're not bringing a laptop.

Oh, and I'm taking my scarf, it's more than half way done (I know, I know...most of you would have made three in the time it's taking me to make one, but I don't find lots of time to knit! I did, however, write another six pages for my masters paper. Anyhow, I should finish the scarf on the trip). I'm also taking my new project. I will need Phil to hold the new yarn so I can wind it into a ball. He didn't look impressed when I informed him of this. Wish me luck!

Caring for Milton the Wonder Dog

Dining
Milton dines in his box, morning and evening (we usually feed the pups at around 8 am and 6:30 pm, but those times are not hard and fast—do whatever works).
There is a scoop in the food box. One scoop for breakfast, one for dinner in the little glass bowl (in his bag).
Treats: Milton likes treats as much as the next dog. Whole cookies are big for a little wiener like him, though, so break them up into two or three pieces. They last longer that way, too.

Walks
Milton loves to go for walks. He wears a harness (he just got a new red one). He has two leashes, one is a regular leash and the other is a flexi-leash. (Sorry about the Christmas color theme—I wanted to get a green harness, but the pet store was all out!)You choose whichever leash you are more comfortable using. He’s happy either way. CAUTION: for some reason he likes to hide under tables, etc. when you get out the harness to put it on him. He doesn’t seem to mind wearing it, but perhaps he feels he’s too old to be dressed by someone else. I don’t know. Do your best. Trick him if necessary. He is really very agreeable once he’s wearing it (and even while you’re trying to put it on him). NOTE: You do not need to put Milton in the harness for quick trips outside—just for extended strolls.
Milton needs to stay on his leash all the time outside (except in our backyard), but he hasn’t been known to bolt. If you drop the leash, chances are he’ll look at it, look at you, and say, “what’s your problem?”
Milton is inclined to eat gross things he encounters on the roadway—used chewing gum, candy wrappers, dead squirrels. Just keep an eye out and try to steer him clear. If he does eat something unpleasant, don’t panic (he’s done it before!). Just keep an eye on him. He must have a very sturdy digestive system. If he continues to play, eat, and generally behave normally, he’s fine. He also likes to eat grass. He doesn’t usually eat much, and it isn’t a big deal.
Don’t forget to take pick-up bags with you on walks. We’ve put some in Milton’s bag.

Sleeping
Milton sleeps in his box at night. We give him a few kibbles of food when we tuck him in, and that’s it! Lock the door and sleep tight.
Milton usually tires out between 8:30 and 9:30, though he can go to bed whenever you’re ready. Sometimes he pulls the pillow out of his box and drags it around the floor. We stopped fighting this. Just put it back before bed if he pulls it out to sit on it or play with it. If he starts unstuffing it, lock it in his box or put it in another room.
Caution! If Milton is very sleepy and heads to bed before you’re ready, make him go outside one more time anyway once you decide to turn in! You’ll be glad you did so at 4 A.M.
Once in a while, Milton wakes up in the night and cries or yaps. I don’t know that he’s even fully awake when he does this. He usually goes on for about 30 seconds or so, then stops. If he does this, ignore him (sorry he woke you up). If he does it several times in a row, however, it would be wise to take him out. This having to go out in the middle of the night has only happened two or three times in his year+ with us.
Milton is a heavy sleeper. If you need to go into your kitchen or wherever he is sleeping, he probably won’t notice.
Milton is usually freed in the A.M. sometime between 7 and 8:30. He has gone later than that; rarely does Milton dictate our schedule. Especially if he’s up late in the evening, don’t feel bad about asking him to sleep in! We usually wake him up when we open his door, so he doesn’t generally wake up early and chomp at the bit to get out (though he has done that middle of the night whining/crying thing at about 6:30 AM. Ignore him. He’ll probably go right back to sleep).

Words of Caution
Milton will abscond with shoes left on the floor.
Milton will pull clothes (jackets, sweaters, whatever) off of chairs and even off of tables if there is the slightest bit of fabric hanging over the edge.
Milton will eat your purse or backpack if you leave it on the floor. He might eat it if you leave it on a chair. He’s short, but surprisingly industrious.
Milton will eat your newspaper if it is also within his reach—and hanging off the edge of the table is considered ‘in reach.’
When Milton gets hold of something he’s excited about, he usually bolts for his box. If he does this, get a few kibbles of food and show them to him outside his box door. Say “leave it” and he usually runs out for the food. Then you can retrieve the purloined item.
Milton gets very excited when someone new comes home. In his joy, he can’t always…contain himself. Best to give him little or no attention at all until he is outside. If he does piddle on your floor (or your shoe or whatever), use the “Out Spot” to clean up the spot on the floor. This is a very handy and eco-friendly cleaner (it’s in his bag).
Milton likes to yip and yap. I wish he did not like this so much. Try not to give in to his yipping and yapping by picking him up (often that’s his greatest desire). Try to make him sit and be quiet first. Distract him in some way if possible. Of course, if all else fails and he won’t get his act together, just scoop him up.
When you take Milton in a car, he likes to get on the floor and eat whatever has gotten lost under your seats. This is tricky. I found it useful to tie his (regular) leash to the headrest so that he could sit, stand, or lie down on the seat, but not jump off of it or crawl into your lap while you’re driving. You could also travel with him inside of his box. He might be inclined to bark the whole way to wherever you’re headed, but at least he’s safely tucked inside. Do whichever seems most effective for you.

Milton Fun Facts
Milton likes to be held and is fun to hold—just keep control or he’ll eat your ear, nose, glasses, tongue, etc.
Milton knows how to lie down on command. Tell him ‘Down’ and he should drop to his belly (this isn’t always easy to tell, however, as his legs are so short. Just watch closely.) It’s good to ask him to do this before giving him treats. Otherwise, he just gets spoiled (like he isn’t already!!).
Milton is friendly. So far, he has never bitten anyone—well, he nips, but he doesn’t bite maliciously. However, he hasn’t been around many children, so I wouldn’t let him play unsupervised with any (I know, Julie, this isn’t such a likely possibility for you, but I thought I’d say it anyway!!)
Milton likes some people food—like cheese, cheerios, peanut butter and hotdogs (weird, I know), and it’s ok to give him a wee bit of some things. Basically, if the food is good for humans, it’s good for dogs. This is not true of grapes or chocolate. If you want to indulge him, just don’t do it while you’re sitting at the table. And just a WEEEE bit. Giving Milton a whole french-fry is like giving a person a whole Big Mac. (And he shouldn’t eat french-fries anyway. Neither should you.)

Thanks so much! Have fun!

Inside the pie...

2005-08-18T08:44:00.000-04:00

I'm clearly obsessing about this pie I made. I mean, I make lots of pies. What's special about this one? Was it the hours I spent with each wee berry, picking off those pesky little stems? It IS delicious. Here's what it looks like on the inside:

Sorry about the quality of the picture. Photographing food is an art (and I'm not always convinced that the food in the pictures is edible. It's too shiny and perfect, you know?). Phil and I just had pie for breakfast--the TRUE breakfast of champions, if you ask me!

Rachel asked about recipes--I tend to get them from everywhere, and I often combine them from different books when I want to try something new. But one of my staple cookbooks is the Betty Crocker New Cookbook. I'm not ashamed to say it. I have never had a recipe go wrong from that book (except the chocolate frosting for Boston Cream Pie, but I should have known better than to even try it based on what it wanted me to do--boy, that sounds dramatic, almost illegal!!). It's a great book for anything traditional or basic. Lasagna, enchilladas, rice pilaf. If you want to make anything fancy or gormet, look elsewhere. The New Cookbook is where I got the recipe for the filling to this pie, but the pie crust I learned from my mother-in-law who learned it from one of her best friends. Not sure where the friend got it from...I'd have to investigate. The crust very tender and somewhat pesky to work with if you need to touch the dough a lot (if you wanted to do lattice or fancy edges or something). I taught Franklin to make pie crust with this recipe. While he has since moved on to a different version, I still feel proud that I could teach him something, considering how much I've learned from him!

Should you be inclined to try this crust, it is made from two cups of flour, 1 cup of crisco, some salt, and 4-5 tablespoons of cold water. I use a pastry blender to combine (two knives would work). Then I dump it, still crumbly but kind of clingy, onto plastic wrap. I try not to touch the dough at all if I can avoid it. Through the plastic, I quickly and roughly shape it into a ball, divide it in two, wrap each half in flattened rounds, and toss them in the fridge while I clean up and prepare the pie filling. I roll the dough out between two sheets of plastic wrap, and then peal off one, lay it in the pie plate, and press it in place before pealing off the other piece. After I get the top crust in place, I shape the edge through plastic wrap as well. I find that actually touching this dough makes it fall apart, but working it through plastic makes it behave like tougher stuff. Anyhow, my family loves this version of crust, and it bakes up so prettily! I always sprinkle sugar on top before I bake it.

It's a beautiful day here--highs in the 70s. The temp dropped to 38 in some parts of the state last night. I am uneasy about this. There were mutterings of isolated frost patches forming tonight in some valleys. Oh dear. I'm not complaining about these comfortable temperatures and the bright sunshine, but I'm not sure I'm ready for lows in the 30s and frost. I know it's just isolated right now, and I don't live in one of those isolated areas, but still. Those isolated areas are in my state, and not necessarily way up at the northern most part of it. If the penguins start marching through, I'm moving.

Pie...pie...pie...pie...

2005-08-17T17:11:00.000-04:00

Mmmmmmm.....I wish you could smell my kitchen right now. I just baked a blueberry pie. See?

If you cut this masterpiece open (I'm not proud or anything) you'd find six cups of the sweetest little wild Maine blueberries. As I painstakingly sifted through them picking off stems, I remembered why I only cook with wildblueberries once each year, but as I pulled the pie from the oven I remembered why I do give it a shot again year after year. I can't wait to dig in to this, but if I don't wait for Phil, he'll be sad.

I've gotten inspired this past week to cook. Great. One week left of summer vacation, and now I'm in the mood to cook. All summer I have been avoiding my kitchen--not in the least motivated. What's up with that? I guess as the school year rapidly approaches and the need to plan for it becomes greater, the number of possible diversions grows in direct proportion to that need. I'm still probably going to make lemon blueberry cake later rather than create handouts for the first day of school (bring a binder, pens, paper, etc. Don't bring cell phones, chewing gum, or bad attitudes, etc.).

It helps that weather is perfect. Not too hot to run the oven--sunny and breezy and dry. Perfect for pie-making.

Yum! Last night I made broiled peaches. What's up with that?

Two days ago it was barley risotto with green beans. Delicious!

Next up (after the blueberry bread): curried zuchinni soup.

And lemon pudding.

Help!

Riverdogs

2005-08-16T16:44:00.000-04:00

We had a family outing this past weekend. We took the pups to the Presumpscot River to cool off. Sometimes I think I really have children not dogs. My feelings for them must be similar to the feelings parents have. One minute I look at them, all lined up on the back seat sitting quietly and looking out the windows, and I think they are angels--perfection in fur. The next minute Joe Pete is yelling at Milton for getting in his space (I swear his howl-bark-yip sounded faintly like "will you stop touching me!!"), Miss Otis is screaming about someone or something in another car, and Milton is eating centuries-old frenchfries he finds on the floor under the seat. Then they are not angels. We threaten to turn the car around if they don't straighten up and fly right.

At the river everything is a mess of leashes and river sand which is just not as nice as ocean sand, and it sticks to everything. At the water's edge, there are moments of peace. Milton wades boldy in, Miss Otis not far behind though more tentative. Joe Pete refuses to get wet. I think if we shaved off his fur his skin would be green. None of the dogs willingly goes for an actual swim, though Milton dutifully swims back when Phil takes him out a few feet (we knew he could swim from previous experiences). After a few minutes of this wading (in some cases) and refusing to budge (in others), we realize we are done at the river. But the day is beautiful and a nearby field gives everyone a chance to run around on loose leashes, something our pups don't get to do very often. I think, aside from the tangles and fussing, a good time was had by all.

Here are some photos for your viewing pleasure.

Milton, the fearless wader

Miss Otis and Phil, chillin' out

Joe Pete...or maybe...

Elphaba.

Call Me Madame...Defarge

2005-08-13T14:22:00.000-04:00

I took my knitting to the historical society meeting. I said almost nothing as I sat next to my husband who ran the meeting. I just knit and knit and knit. If I were a more skilled knitter, some names may have found their way into my knitting that evening. Who would think that a historical society meeting could cause contention? There was grumbling, general disagreement, near mutiny at one point. It all settled down pretty well by the end, and a nice lady there complimented me on my scarf (for that is what it clearly looks like now). But wow--what a night. I was thankful that my hands were kept busy (so I didn't strangle anyone).

I haven't blogged in a while--nearly a week--because I didn't feel like I really had anything to say. What has happened in my life this week? I've run errands, done research, had lunch with friends, played with dogs, watched a movie, and generally just puttered about the house. As each day passed I thought, "What could I possibly write about?" But then one night I woke up at 3:30 to pee and could not get back to sleep. I tried all kinds of things, like counting to 500, attempting to clear my mind, thinking about all of the people I know in the world list-like. These are all ideas I got from a friend who is actually pretty curious about the different ways people try to fall asleep when it doesn't come upon them quickly and with little effort. None of these tactics worked for me. I got frustrated when I lost count at around 280, but I was no closer to dreamsville for having gotten that far. So then I thought about the movie White Christmas and the line from one of the songs in it: "When you're worried and you can't sleep, count your blessings instead of sheep." So I did. I started racking up those blessings, and you know what? I've got lots! I thought of things like my super husband, charming puppies, awesome parents, incredible brother, great friends, good job, in-laws I like, nice house, good hair, and so on and so forth. I'm pretty lucky. That made me feel good, but it didn't make me sleepy. So then I started thinking about things I could blog...

I saw March of the Penguins. I must say, it was an emotional roller coaster. I expected more laughs and fewer tears, as I think did the little boy who left part way through, with teary eyes and stifled sobs. I really enjoyed the film--it's gorgeous--but I don't think the television ads do right by it. All the previews I saw showed funny penguin footage and laughing children who "LOVE March of the Penguins." I tell you, I cried! Go see it, but bring tissues.

I also saw Monsoon Wedding (via Netflix). What a beautiful movie! I loved it. It's so pretty and the music is great. I highly recommend it.

I think these are worthy blog topics, and my sleepless night produced a few more I'll have to save for later. For the moment, I think I'll go play with the pups. Joe Pete has gone to work with Phil today for a few hours, so Miss Otis and Milton are wandering about feeling sort of lost. Well, Miss Otis is. Milton is chasing flies.

By the way, if you have some clever way that you induce sleep when it doesn't just befall you, do share.

VIP? I don't think so!

2005-08-08T08:41:00.000-04:00

This weekend Phil and I went to a big ol' lobster bake put on every year by the state Dems. At times it's tough to live in Maine as a non-lobster eater. Oh well. Anyhow, when we checked in at the table by the parking area, Phil was singled out as a VIP. Maybe it does pay to be a senator! This meant we were going to get an escort down to the picnic area. I immediately began having visions of special picnic tables under a tent, maybe with table cloths, our food brought to us. I was brought back rather quickly to reality when our escort stopped us at the spot from which I took the picture below and said, "Do you see that tree? Go to the table under the tree." I kid you not.

Did you know that Maine has more trees per square foot than any other state? That may not be true. I heard it somewhere but can't validate (or don't feel like looking it up, to be more precise). At any rate, I could believe it when we were sent in search of the tree. Oh, and it had a sign on it. Of course. Well, believe it or not we found the tree and all that happened there was Phil signed in again. It was like an attendance list--folks in charge just wanted to know how many legislators came. No special table. No tent. No service. We stood in line for a very long time to get our BBQ/Vegetarian meal (not even two separate tents for types of eaters so diametrically opposed!). When we arrived at the front of the line we got a hunk of BBQ chicken...and that's it. The sides were gone, except maybe some potato salad that had been there for who knows how long. Sigh. Ok, so this all makes the adventure sound pretty awful, and really it was a beautiful day with lots of swell folks and good conversation, plus free blueberry ice cream (the dems are all about the color blue these days, but in typical dem fashion, even that went a little bit awry as blueberries actually look sort of purple (almost red!) when you mix them into things!). Anyhow, the ice cream was delicious--I had two scoops of it.

I kept trying to think of ways I could knit at these functions and you know what? It's just not going to work. It's hard to knit and mingle. Oh well. But tonight's historical society meeting should see a good many inches added to my scarf. Ha ha!

I can't think of a reason to include the following photograph except that it makes me laugh. So here it is. I present to you the fiercest wiener dog in Maine:

Fortunately, everyone's ok

2005-08-04T21:35:00.000-04:00

Maureen and I in Lake Placid--the town, not the actual body of water

(That's Mirror Lake in the background; go figure.)

I'm back from Lake Placid. What a lovely town in the middle of a most beautiful setting. Clearly my family lived in the wrong part of upstate New York during our stint there. The conference was mildly entertaining (the hosts had a sense of humor), occasionally iritating (the hosts sang too much and spent too much time promoting their books; they also called us campers and tried to pretend the event was a big summer camp experience), and somewhat valuable (we met a most amazing educator who still teaches and also shares her wisdom with other teachers--a rather rare occurance). Most of the trip aside from the conference was splendid. We took a nice walk and looked at the houses along the lake, we shopped a little (I only bought chocolate for me and postcards for the grandmothers, no tables made from sticks blown out of birch trees, though I did see those and other rustic-looking yet wildly expensive items), and we went onto Mirror Lake in a paddle boat. We bought lots of teaching-related books and spent some of our free time reading through them and reading snippets aloud to each other. How nerdy--and wonderful! All went well until Tuesday night. We were looking forward to the final day, Wednesday, with mixed emotions--joy about working with that super teacher one more time and also listening to Nancy Atwell's keynote, and dread for the closing event which promised to involve more singing. We never got to see how it all turned out. After a few calls home, my partner for the conference realized that her husband had not returned home from an overnight hiking trip in the White Mountains. She spent an hour on the phone with various folks trying to get info and get help, and then we packed up and headed home at midnight. We got to her place at about 6:45 AM--still no hubby at home. After a few more hours of frantic calls, general unease, and the replaying of unspoken scenarios in our minds, she learned that her hubby's car had broken down, so he spent the night in a random town somewhere between the White Mountains and home. So...as I said, everyone's ok. Her hubby is feeling pretty guilty about us racing home and missing the last day. To be honest, both Maureen and I feel nothing but happiness that her hubby was ok. Coming home was worth it. No regrets!

But all of that did cause a night of no sleep, so I'm still trying to get back on track. I spent today painting a room at my mother-in-law's house. They have renovations/painting projects going in 6 rooms right now. My mother-in-law is an amazingly neat housekeeper, and so she is quite unaccustomed to all of this mess. Things keep getting started and nothing gets finished. My goal was to move one room a little closer to done. I did a pretty good job. If she doesn't finish the painting before Saturday, I'll wrap it up then. Tomorrow I'm spending the day with Maureen and Julie--my super colleagues--to begin thinking about school. Mo and I co-teach an English class, and next year that class will be teamed with Julie; that is, she'll have the same group of kids for World History. These kiddos are the lowest readers in their class, and we're hoping to bolster their literacy skills in as many ways as possible. I'm looking forward to the challenge.

I did work on my scarf a bit in L.P. as well as yesterday afternoon. I'm glad I posted the early picture of it. I can compare what I've done and see my progress very easily! It's not worth photographing it again, but I'm getting pretty close to adding a new ball of yarn, and I find that prospect most exciting. Not tonight, though. Time for bed. Here's one last shot from L.P.

My next adventure

2005-07-31T10:08:00.000-04:00

I'm off to Lake Placid in a few minutes for a literacy conference. I'm going with a friend whom I also teach with (yes, this English teacher ended her sentence with a preposition. You got a problem with that? I at least used 'whom' properly. That's plenty for summertime usage). Anyhow, we're off soon, and it will be about a six hour drive. That's nothing for us. We drove to Indiana, and that took seventeen hours. I'm taking my scarf. It's growing nicely, especially considering how little time I've had to work on it. If only it were growing as fast as my MA paper! I submitted nearly six pages of drafted material. If my scarf were six pages long, boy that would be something! Here is the info on the yarn; It is a Feza mohair/acrylic blend in colorway #255. I had to consult the label AND Franklin to make sense of it. You can find it on the Feza website: http://www.fezaiplik.com/ but it looks absolutely terrible in the picture they have of it. I would never have bought it if I hadn't seen it and touched it (and touched it and touched it and touched it). Speaking of yarn stores, I was headed over to the vet to pick up some medicine for Milton--he's fine (really, I will be speaking of yarn stores soon), and on my way I passed a new knitting/yarn store that will be opening in August! The vet is five minutes from my house, and the new yarn store is between here and there, so talk about local. I hope it's a good store! Ok, one last photo--again with the puppies getting in on the pictures. This is Miss Otis:

I'll be back Thursday!

Next Project...perfect for summer?

2005-07-27T09:17:00.000-04:00

I've decided to knit a scarf. Seems like a traditional early project, and I love scarves. I'm rather excited about it because I am in love with the yarn I'm using. It is soft and lovely and pretty and all around good. So here is my beginning.

Isn't that lucious looking yarn? I'm knitting it in 2x2 rib, something else new for me. What isn't new? Anyhow, I'm just floored that it works. Ok, time for the close-up!

I figure this project will take a bit longer than a six inch square, but I think I'm up to it. It's very rewarding. I was knitting last night and Phil had a few things to say about it:

1) When are you going to knit something for me?

2) You'd get done a lot faster if you didn't stop and admire what you've done after every row.

I think he's just jealous.

When I went outside to take the pictures this morning, Joe Pete and Milton pretty much assumed I was going to take pictures of them, so they struck these poses, and I couldn't resist taking their picture.

Back to the to-do list that's growing faster than my new scarf!

My first project completed!

2005-07-26T10:35:00.000-04:00

I'm glad Phil took the camera to Ohio. Here's why:

But now that the camera is back, I can post my new creations! First, here is the wee little bag/sack thing that Cheryl said is called a cozy:

It is holding my cell phone quite nicely, I'll say! But now...the piece de resistance! I found this project via Lee Anne--it was perfect for me to practice knitting and sewing. I present to you Franklin Bunny (named after my knitting inspiration, of course!):

Isn't he cute? Ok, so his head is kind of small and his ears are all droopy (no reflection on the actual Franklin who is proportioned just fine), but he's what I set out to make, and I made him! Woo hoo! I took him with me in the car last night to pick up Phil from the airport. I left a message about finishing him on Franklin's cell phone. I'm not excited or anything. Oh no.

But I do have that paper to write, and Franklin is helping out there, too:

See my extensive note-taking? Franklin Bunny is sort of like a cat--he likes to sit on whatever I'm working with, but I don't mind. Milton tried to eat him, so we had words about that. All is well now. Don't know WHAT I'll make next...but finishing something provides quite the rush!

Knitting with Grammie

2005-07-25T11:58:00.000-04:00

On Saturday I spent some time with Phil's grandmother. I actually spent Saturday afternoon preparing dinner for Phil's folks and a friend of theirs who are working like crazy to get their house ready to open an assisted living facility. Noble. I could never do it. But that's another story. Anyhow, Grammie was visiting for the day, and as she was as inclined as I to help sand and paint, we spent the afternoon in the kitchen cooking and knitting. Grammie was using plastic circular needles to make a dishcloth. Turns out, those were the needles my mother-in-law used when she was younger. It also turns out that Grammie doesn't really like to use the knitted dishclothes she's always making, but she knows enough folks who do. "And I don't have to think about these to make 'em. They just keep my hands busy." Grammie had just come from a visit with her son and daughter-in-law, and she said that the daugter-in-law was using the dishclothes as doilies! "I'll have to make her a real doily," Grammie said. She's a crocheter, too. And she's agreed to set me up with a crochet hook for getting out of jams like dropped stitches (that Debbie Stoller has lots of good advice!). Another thing Grammie told me about was knitting mittens. She said she doesn't want to knit mittens any more ever again! That's what she did tons of when she was younger, mostly for her kids. "I would go in their rooms while they were sleeping to measure their hands, so I'd know how to make the thumb," she said. I just love that. I showed her Stoller's book, which she thought was really great, and then she told me she had a How-To knitting book from way back. She's going to see if she can find it for me. I'm very curious! At one point in her knitting of the dishcloth, Grammie realized she'd goofed.

Grammie: I'll just pull it all out and pick it up again here, where it's ok.
Me: Do you know what that's called, when you pull it all out like that?
Grammie: No, dear, what?
Me: It's called 'frogging.'
Grammie: What? Froggin'?
Me: Yeah, 'cause you just rip it out, and 'rip it' sounds like 'ribbit,' like frogs make.

Grammie laughed good and hard for that one, so I told her about tinking, too. She of course knew how to do it, but she didn't know this witty little name for it. "I guess I'm learning more from you than you're learning from me! Well I'll just have to write that down to tell the twins at church!" And Grammie pulled out her pocketbook so she could write down 'frogging' and 'tinking.' I love to make Grammie laugh. Apparently these twins at church are something else. "They can knit the most complicated pattern, and their eyes are all over the room! But they hardly ever look at their knittin'." I was certainly impressed.

So what have I been doing? Well, I mentioned that I visited my first yarn store a few days ago. Since then I've been to two more. [We will have all kinds of fun on your next visit, Franklin!!] It's hard not to buy something on one's first visit to a yarn store, I've discovered. I think I now have what is called a very, VERY modest and humble stash. Goodness. It's making me giddy.

I have also made my first item. It is a silly item, but it's an item all the same. I wish to show it to you, but Phil is in Ohio at a conference and he took the camera! Gah! What it amounts to is a small sack of sorts. It would hold...maybe some marbles? Of course, I'd have to rig up some sort of way to close it...like a drawstring. It's about the size of a PDA. I don't know. It was just a rectangular swatch of knitted fabric, and I folded it in half and sewed up the sides. Anyhow, it's something, and I'm proud. I'll photograph it tomorrow.

My masters paper also comes on apace. I worked on that for several hours yesterday. I must submit some part of it in draft by Friday, so I'd better get back to it. I just tried to go to the library this morning to return some things and request some more books via interlibrary loan, but when I got there it was closed. It opens at 2:30 on Monday. I really don't like libraries. I like books, just not libraries. I went to my favorite little coffee shop instead and had a smoothie. That took away the sting. Now it's time for...knitting? Writing? Reading? LUNCH!

Look, look, look!!!

2005-07-22T08:57:00.000-04:00

I did something new! I didn't actually go and play with my new bits of string. Instead I went back to Stoller's book and poof! I learned to add new yarn, and more importantly, STOCKINETTE! I can purl! I can purl! Wa and hoo!

See? Look!

Wow. Now that is really something. Ok, I know it isn't really something to most of you, but to ME? Sheesh. Wow. WOW. I had just figured out this purling business when Phil and I had to take a quick ride up to his parents' house. On the way I kept sharing my excitement with him which led to a lesson in the difference between knitting and purling. Well, not so much the difference in technique, but the whole terminology thing. I explained it by comparing knitting to the state of Hawaii. All eight islands are called Hawaii when lumped together, right? But one of the eight has Hawaii as its name. So I said Knitting is like the name of the state, and knit and purl are specific island names. I felt very clever. I think that I could have said anything after learning to purl ("look at the moon," "Downshift, will you?", "Ow. I hurt my thumb") and would have believed it was genius. Yes, last night I was ready to take on the world!

Today? I must not knit right now. I must read portfolios. I will do this swiftly and then mess around with "making nice edge stitches" (Stoller 52). [Woah, I'm so in research paper mode!]

Free at last...but only temporarily

2005-07-21T19:40:00.000-04:00

I survived the two days of summer planning. I DID take my knitting, but I only worked at it in the morning before we started (and looked at it longingly when things took a turn for the boring, unpleasant, maddening, or terrifying). I wish to thank mama lu for the suggestion about the Sermon Game. I'm sorry I did not get it before today's summer planning grande finale. I'm sure, however, that the upcoming school year will give me plenty of opportunities to try it out. The image of a whole group playing along is just too delicious. I will have to share it with my friends at school (but not my students--they already have their own survival tactics, from writing down what we wear everyday--not kidding; my collegue found a complete catalog of her wardrobe in a student's folder, to vodka in their Nalgene bottles).

I can't say it was an extremely fun time, summer planning. As usual, we have set about to do WAY too much next year. Even though many of us said we need to CUT, CUT, CUT, at the end of our time, our to-do list was extremely cluttered. Sigh. I wonder if my principal is a Taurus. He seems as stuborn as I am. Unfortunately, he gets his way more than I get mine (must have something to do with our salaries).

I have a confession to make. I went to a yarn store (Grace Robinson and Company). It was very, very pretty inside--nothing like the one in Kokomo that Franklin wrote about (I found that one rather intimidating and not at all pretty). I have absolutely NO idea if the prices were good or not, but I think the selection was, based on how googly-eyed I felt. I walked around for a long time touching the yarn and reading the labels. It was good label-reading practice. I told the lady in the store that I was new to knitting. She was very kind, not pushy but helpful. I bought some things--not much, just a little. I will not say what. I am not prepared to go THAT public yet. Please forgive me. But I must go play with my new bits of string.

What does this mean?

2005-07-19T21:09:00.000-04:00

It's another hot, hot day here. And we had terrible thunder storms with windblown rain. I spent a good bit of time running about with towels to sop up water from spots in front of windows we don't usually have to close when it rains. Earlier in the day I had finished reading the new Harry Potter. I can't believe the events of the book hadn't leaked out. I was FLOORED. Enough said about that, though. Don't want to spoil the plot for anyone! Anyhow, what with the strange weather and the magical reading, I was only a bit surprised when I returned to my spot at the kitchen table to discover this scene. I know that I myself had arranged it, as I was the only one home (besides the puppies, but had they been able, they would have undone the knitting and eaten the phonebook), but I don't recall taking the phonebook from it's drawer. What do I make of it? Perhaps a closer look will help in the analysis...

Very mysterious, don't you think?

Following Franklin's suggestion, I'm going to learn how to tink. Seems a useful skill to know, and I feel it would bring me a certain peace of mind. So, do I take my knitting tomorrow to SUMMER PLANNING?

Ah, summer planning. This will be my second year at this event. Last year went fairly well. Summer planning is when a group of teachers plus the principal and superintendent get together to map out our schoolwide professional development, etc. for the following school year. We'll have this meeting over the course of two days at a swell facility in a pretty building with nice views. Last year my best buddies were with me; this year I'm flying solo in a sense. My principal is a very firm believer in agendas, and with stuff like 30 minutes to "look at the agenda" and "set goals," while later getting a chance to "whip around" and "list pluses and deltas" on the schedule, I'm already feeling a touch upset in the stomach region. I tend to shy away from jargon like "pluses and deltas" though I know it's all friendly and positive and upbeat. Anyhow, I like to have a hand in my future, so that's why I go. Wish me luck. I think I'll leave the knitting at home. I'm going to need all of my wits about me to avoid agreeing to something icky for the rest of the faculty and myself.

On another completely different note, Phil got his last postcard from my trip to Chicago. This one was actually for him and the puppies. It's a post card of THE Seurat, and I picked it because there are three dogs in the painting. Phil showed it to the pooches and had them help him find all the dogs. Joe Pete found the big lab-like dog, Miss O. found the little terrier sort, but it took Milton's acute sensibilities to identify the tiniest pooch in the background. Here he is at work:

Time to review the agenda for tomorrow (wait--we'll have half an hour to do that together first thing!) Guess it's off to bed.

Can't Knit and Talk (or type or drive or drink or...)

2005-07-18T15:32:00.000-04:00

I've been told that knitters can chat away and knit away without too much damage done to their projects or their friendships, but I am not yet at that advanced stage. I tried knitting and talking, and those mystery stitches I'd thought I'd gotten past started showing up again. I've taken their arrival as a chance to experiment with ways of removing them. Question: do I still shoot for 30 rows without any dropped or added stitches before moving on? I had almost 20 when I tried knitting and chatting and everything went nutty.

I took my knitting to my class--it was an all day event with lots of down time for me--and had a few interesting conversations about it. This was my favorite comment:

"Why are you knitting so strangely?"

After a good laugh, I realized she meant that I had the yarn around my left-hand fingers, not my right. I felt very clever explaining that I was knitting in the Continental style as opposed to the English. Boy, did I sound like a smarty-pants! I was less clever when swearing about the new stitches that appeared while I was giving my explanation!

But knitting is not my only endeavor now that I have more or less reclaimed my summer (done with vacations and course work). I have been cleaning and organizing mightily. I finally straigtened out the guest room (so come on over, Franklin, and bring a friend!). I took a HUGE load of stuff to Goodwill. I felt all funny filling out the receipt because I just had to list what I thought all my stuff was worth. Now honestly, I thought it was all crap which is why I was giving it away, but then, there were some totally unused (as in never opened) things, plus a medicine cabinet, a large comforter (not the new one we just got, Mom--no worries!), some dishes, a suitcase, a brief case, etc. etc. etc. Anyhow, I filled out the slip and gave it to the lady in charge, and I said something relatively benign like, "I guess now everyone's happy." Her retort? "Well, we'll see. It's between you and the tax man." I felt like I'd just done something illegal!!

Aside from all of this reorganization, I've been reading the 6th Harry Potter. I did not stay up until midnight to get a copy at the first possible moment, by my hubby did a shift at the local library's "magical celebration" and he bought me a copy. When HP first came out, I did not intend to read it. I was still in that phase of my life when certain things were "beneath me." "Oh," I could be heard saying, "I'll never read THOSE books." Stupid. I picked up the first one at an airport bookstore having broken the Eleventh Commandment, "Thou shalt not travel without a good book," and HP seemed like the best option. I casually worked my way through it over the course of my visit with my parents, and was quite suprised to find myself at the bookstore with the second book in hand and a great deal of dismay over the fact that the third book had not yet been released in paperback. Since the days of thinking I was all-that-plus-some, I've worked hard at abandoning that attitude. It's way more fun to be excited about a book coming out than not, and who am I to judge stuff I know nothing about? And even if I don't like something, I have no reason to rain on someone else's parade.

I'm on page 303. So far so good. I was excited to see a nod to knitters in the book. When Dumbledore returns from a somewhat prolonged visit to the restroom and is asked if he has an upset stomach, he replies, "No, I was merely reading the Muggle magazines...I do love knitting patterns." See page 73.

In honor of this somewhat eclectic blog entry, I'll say a word about our weather--it's HUMID! I was entirely too happy to be down in my cool, damp, creepy-crawly basement assembling shelves. Normally I don't go down there for any length of time, ever since the skunk event. Today I was tempted to set up a chair, pour some iced tea, and grab my knitting. If the spiders can do it down there, so can I, right?

No, no, no! Back to work!

But not before a parting picture--how can this possibly be comfortable?

Beginner Knitting

2005-07-14T09:51:00.000-04:00

So in my last post about my visits to Kokomo and Chicago, I left out the bit about knitting. This was not an oversight. No, no, no. Instead, I will here and now devote an entire entry to my knitting endeavors, modest as they are.

I'm new to this knitting business, and as Franklin pointed out, I have no local mentor. However, there is this swell knitting community in the blog world, so I learn a lot from reading everyone's knitting tales.

Why did I start knitting? I think it was so Franklin could get a free keychain. I hope he is enjoying it. What does he get when I actually buy my own supplies? Toaster oven?

My first project ever, the barbie shawl, looks thus:

I opted for the nature shot, a la Yarn Harlot.

It is a very silly little bit of fabric, but I am proud. The Senator said it would make a good finger blanket. He's very encouraging and supportive (and creative). I keep taking it out of my bag and looking at it. Is this normal? It is full of holes and mysterious extra stitches. I know that these extra stitches are not from having my yarn hang down from the back of my needle when I finish a row (Franklin warned me early on about this little knitting trap), so where are these stitches coming from? Mars? Maybe I'll call my first creation the Alien Barbie Shawl.

Now I continue to practice. I had lots of time at the airport before leaving Chicago, so I did some reading and then I did some knitting--my first public knitting. Why does everyone assume a knitting person is knitting a sweater? A woman who cut me in line (I flew Southwest) said in a casual, friendly (thus irritating) sort of way, "Gosh, she'll be done with that sweater before we board the plane!" It brought me a weird little bit of joy to totally unravel what I had done and NOT create a single thing while we were in line. That was a silly way to get satisfaction because the woman obviously did not care. By the way, I liked that I could knit standing up.

That's mostly what I did at the airport--knit some rows then start over. I got lots of practice at casting on. I kept getting those pesky mysterious extra stitches, and it was causing me a wee bit of frustration. Debbie Stoller (who I think is a riot) said I should cast on 20 stitches and knit 30 rows (see, brother dear? I'm reading the book!). Casting on was no problem. Keeping 20 stitches was damn near impossible. I either ended up with 18 or 22 every time I tried.

Now that I'm home, I'm trying to knit for a wee bit everyday. It's a nice break from the research and a good way to avoid the housework that is threatening to swallow me and the pups. Perhaps that's why I have been knitting outside.

So I continue to work on my swatch--I cast on 20 rows, got 21 in the next go around, and then decided that 21 is an excellent number. So know I've knit (knitted? What's the past participle here? The english teacher in me is difficult to repress, but obviously not powerful enough to make me go look it up) a mess of rows at 21 stitches each. When I get to the end of a row and spread out my stitches to count, a little voice in my head starts chanting "oh please oh please oh PLEASE let there be 21!" So far so good. As far as counting rows goes, I was a bit troubled at first. Seemed like I'd knitted a bunch (by my standards) and had only 4 rows to show for it. Then I got to thinking, maybe I'm counting wrong (math is not my strong suit). So I need to count the bump and the in between bits, right? Does that make ANY sense? I'm trusting two things here: 1) Franklin will read this and understand my question, and 2) He will reply to me after he stops laughing hysterically.

I'm still shooting for 30 rows as Stoller suggests. I think my rows are getting more even. This tension business is tricky. I've been experimenting with how to hold the yarn and I'm leaning towards option 2 on p. 39 of Stitch'n Bitch (I'm betting Franklin will look this up).

My setting for knitting is swell--in my rocker on the back porch with puppies frolicking at or sitting on my feet. When Milton started chewing on a long, skinny stick, I fancied he was trying to immitate me--not that I'm chewing on the needles, but dogs translate everything into chewing.

Time to get back to the research...maybe after one more row!

Where to begin?

2005-07-13T08:36:00.000-04:00

Whew! What a whirlwind trip to the midwest and back. It began last Tuesday when I drove from Maine to Indiana with a friend of mine--17 hours with only quick pitstops. We really had a great day. Then two days in Kokomo. I flew! I did it! And I didn't puke! Woo hoo! I can't say I loved the whole experience, but I actually kind of enjoyed taking off and landing and not so much the general flying around part. This turns out to be somewhat unusual. Folks usually freak at the beginning and end when they're hurtling away from or towards the ground. I think the flying around part is more creepy because there's all kinds of time to think about the fact that I'm way up in the sky in something that, aside from wingspan, is smaller than my Honda Accord. Anyhow, that's the shadow our plan cast not long after we took off. The fact that I had the clear head to take pictures at all is astonishing. Here is a view out the back of the plane and one of me with the plane back safely on the ground--I'm still smiling!

I'm holding my journal--it came along for the ride.

After playing country mouse for a couple of days, Franklin and I headed to the big city. Talk about a different experience! No quiet evenings watching lightning bugs and airplanes vie for runway time! Oh no! City time was all about ... watching Napoleon Dynamite in Franklin's livingroom. Very city. Very hip! But that's not all we did! We viewed the lake, saw some wildlife, and walked acres and acres of land. (Jeeze--sounds like a trip to Northern Maine!).

My favorite events from my weekend in Chicago: seeing the Trumpeter Swans and their kiddies at the Lincoln Park Zoo (the whole zoo was great, but the swans were a highlight), seeing "Red Scare" at Second City (too, too funny! When the 'kid' gets caught in his teacher's classroom and says he was going to steal her money but then felt sorry for her when he saw her paycheck, well, I just about lost it), seeing THE Seurat, and of course, meeting C., Franklin's honey. What a sweetie! Buzz was a charmer, too, and a great companion on our outing to the zoo. He brought water for us--for that I am eternally greatful.

I wish to describe to you another of Franklin's and my adventures, but I fear I lack the skills to do so adequately--not for lack of words, oh no, but for fear of bringing down upon me and my fledgling blog lawsuits from the company I wish to tell you about our visit to. You see, we had spent the morning shopping in the city (joy of joys!) and came to what looked rather like a coffee bar. Except it wasn't. It was a ... ok, think of a word that rhymes with...'bounge' and means nearly the same thing as bar. Yes. Ok good. Now, instead of coffee, think of the opposite of vanilla. So, we went to a "the-opposite-of-vanilla not-bar-but-rhymes-with-bounge." Get it? The reason I'm so reticent to simply state where we went has to do with our experience there. Our beverages (a popular favorite after cold, outdoor activities with an opposite-of-vanilla theme) and our snacks (think traditional Valentine's day gifts only fancier and tastier) were first rate. I've never had better...rhymes with socolate...in my life. The setting? Tres chic. Blocky bright couches (oh dear, can I say all of that?), and a coffee table (I don't think the words couch and coffee table are copywrited, are they?). The reason for all of this roundabout writing has to do with our encounters with the staff. At this oh so lovely "the-opposite-of-vanilla not-bar-but-rhymes-with-bounge" there were swell banners hung overhead with neato quotes about "rhymes-with-socholate." Rather than copy them onto scraps of paper, I asked Franklin to snap some photos for me so I could transcribe them later into my journal. He was met with "Excuse me, you can't take photographs in here." He politely complied (but shhhh....he snapped a picture of our delicious eats and of me lounging--oops!--on the comfy couches. Sadly we dare not post these pictures. Our descendents will find them many years hence and wonder!). So I dug around for a scrap of paper to copy a few more of the swell quotations down. As I was doing so, another member of the staff saw me and said, "Are you copying the quotes?" "Oh, yes," I said. "They're wonderful. Do you have a postcard or something that would save me the trouble?" Her reply? "They're copywrited so you can't copy them down." I fear that you all won't believe that this place exists. I'd really like to tell you all about it--like what it's called and where you can find it. I truly loved the experience, but as I said before, I'm new to blogging and prefer not to be shut down just yet.

So all in all? A super week. I missed my Senator and my pooches--who apparently woke up my Senator very early every morning, though yesterday and today they happily slept in now that I'm home. Time to really hunker down and write the paper that will earn me a masters degree, assuming it doesn't drag me under and into a death roll. When I resurface from today's research, maybe I'll write some more...

Table for six...strangers

2005-07-03T10:49:00.000-04:00

We went to a wedding yesterday. I love weddings. Brides are always beautiful in my eyes (even if I trash their dress the next day in conversation). Grooms are funny. Groomsmen are even funnier. And bridesmaids? Who doesn't love a bridesmaid? Yesterday's event really was very, very nice. Perfect setting, perfect weather. The reception took place at a spa/resort called The Cliff House in Ogunquit, Maine. Fancy! Great views (of cliffs, of course, and the ocean) and good eats. They did something that I think was pretty clever. You know how guests arrive at the reception before the bride and groom, et. al. ? Most people have food and drink to keep the guests happy--we're a demanding lot, considering what we paid for wedding gifts (Pottery Barn towels? You KNOW if they don't actually get those, they'll stock the linen closet with stuff from Walmart). Anyhow, yesterday, we spent the pre-reception period on a lovely deck overlooking the sea, and we munched on yummy, hot appetizers plus fruit, cheese, crackers, and bread, and they had an open bar--but it was only an open bar for this beginning part. During the reception they had a cash bar, BUT they brought wine around to go with dinner, and of course there was the champagne for toasting (toasted champagne? No, no. You know what I mean). So you could get a free drink or two, plus the wine with dinner, but if you really wanted to get shnockered, it was on your dime, not theirs. I really think that's a good idea!

The seating arrangement landed us at a table with two other couples--and none of the couples knew each other beforehand. What nice folks! One never knows who one will be stuck with at a wedding reception with arranged seating. We didn't worry too much, and we needn't have worried at all. The bride and groom are completely trustworthy when it comes to choosing their friends.

My honey and I were the first to get married in our group of family and friends. I had a Super Wedding--loved every minute of it, and didn't even want to kill anybody during the planning stages. I also liked the attention of being first. (I'm so vain, I think EVERY song is about me). But being first has its disadvantages 'cause we couldn't steal ideas from everyone else. Instead of tossing the bouquet, the bride and groom at yesterday's wedding invited all the married couples onto the dance floor, and the DJ announced at intervals something like, "If you've been married for less than five hours (1 year, five years, etc.) please leave the floor." Then the bride gave the bouquet to the couple that outlasted everyone else. I also like that this bride and groom didn't do any of that tacky stuff that gets them more money--like pass around a dollar then give it to the bride, etc. etc. And no garter flinging. And they were civilized when sharing their cake with each other.

Really, the whole event sparkled. I just love weddings. Of course, this post would have been infinitely more interesting had the wedding tanked, but I'm glad it didn't. I certainly wish the couple the very best, and I'm happy for their auspicious beginning.

We're not that sort of people

2005-07-01T21:31:00.000-04:00

You know, the ones who excel at home projects. Further proof of our disability in this department came this evening as my Senator and I put together a long gate to block part of our house from our dogs. It's a wide space(over 90") so the standard pop-it-into-the-doorway sort of gate wouldn't do. For more than a year, we've had a giant wooden box and a stack of cardboard boxes blocking this opening. Recently, Miss Otis (Beagle #2) discovered that she could jump over the box. Joe Pete (Beagle #1) and Milton (dachshund the-only) chose not to or could not follow, but even one up-and-over created a stir. Something had to be done. Plus, Milton had taken to eating the cardboard boxes (and their contents).

Miss Otis on the box; Milton on Joe Pete.

So I ordered this big, long fence-like thing with extender panels and a 'swing gate.' It took us two hours to put it together, and we screwed up twice, before and after veering wildly away from the directions. At one point when hope was fading, the Senator said, "Well, if this doesn't work, we just got ourselves some expensive kindling."

But no, we got it together. We're still married. (Happily? Yes, happily--that which does not kill us makes us stronger, right?)

My parents are brilliant at handy things. They single-handedly remodeled my bathroom. My contribution to the project? Painting. I can paint walls. Daddy can install walls. See...

This is how it looked when we bought the house (and for four years after).

And now it looks like this...

And this...

When I do home make-over projects, I can hear my parents in my head. Read the directions, twice. Measure six or seven times. Always drill pilot holes. Use the level. But no matter what, I screw up the directions, I can't measure to save my life, the Senator generally refuses to drill pilot holes and still manages to put stuff together (this shouldn't make me pout, but it does), and no matter how closely I look at my level, my shelves, pictures, swing gates, etc. end up crooked. Ugh.

I did not inherit my father's genes for puttin' stuff together. Thank goodness he and mom are generally happy to come do it all for me. Wait. Maybe I finally get why they're moving to the Midwest instead of to Maine...