Partner sweater countdown

I managed to finish the Body of the Partner Sweater this morning (two sleeves left).  I started binding it off last night.  I chose a bind-off that is supposedly lovely and stretchy.  Perfect, I thought, to finish the ribbing at the bottom of this sweater without losing the lovely stretchiness of the bottom ribbing.  I got halfway through the binding-off last night, and with hands cramping, I left it and went to bed.  

When I woke up this morning, I decided I didn’t like the way that bind-off looked.  It was sort of thick, and sort of forced the ribbing to splay in an unattractive way.  So I undid it.  

Undoing has been the hardest thing for me to learn in knitting.  Not that it’s hard.  Undoing is often much much easier than the original doing.  That was the case for this ribbing.  But undoing is psychologically very hard for me.  I mean, I spent an hour on those ninety bind-off stitches (that sounds crazy-long to me too, but it’s true).  I could take it out in less than ten minutes and that work was pfffft! gone forever.  

I used to hate undoing so much—even when I had made ugly mistakes in the knitting—that I’d figure out ways to fix or hide or ignore rather than undo and redo.  I have left knitting sitting in my closet for months, years even, with a mistake or an unsatisfying bit of knitting, because I was paralyzed with a lack of wanting to undo.  

I have come to realize in my advancing age (can you hear my creaking rocking chair?) that the part I love most about knitting, though, is the actual knitting.  You know, the part where I’m sitting here knitting.  Making one loop of yarn after another in tidy little rows and rounds and columns.  So, I figure, undoing something (which has lovely little names like Ripping, Frogging, Tinking, or just plain old Un-Knitting), just gives me the opportunity to do more of the part that I love when I get to do it over.  

Plus, seriously, if I’m going to spend hours and hours and hours making something that will hang out in my life or the life of someone I love for a long time, I should take the time to make it right.  Compared to the time invested in knitting the whole garment, the Redos don’t usually add up to much (I say usually, because I know that there have been times when I’ve had to completely undo something because a mistake occurred wayyyyyy back at the beginning, or because the thing turned out wayyyyy too small or too big—and don’t talk to me about too small right now, because this sweater is just almost too small for Partner, but I refuse to undo it completely because I really like it, and if it doesn’t end up fitting him after I block it [which it should because the swatch I made at the beginning did the same thing, loosening up tremendously when I washed it], then it’s mine).  

(Go ahead.  Tell me to quit with the parentheses already.)

So on the sweater, I undid the fancy bind-off (which might still be good for binding off lace, but which I will not use for ribbing again), and started over, doing my usual bind-off on bigger needles to make sure the bottom edge didn’t bind up.  And guess what?  I love it.  It’s perfect.  The bind-off just sort of disappears into that bottom ribbing.  

Now, the question remains, can I meet my goal?  Can I knit two sleeves in three days in order to finish this sweater before the Olympics start?  Actually, less than three days depending on whether I count until the Olympics actually start in Beijing (which would be Friday morning at 7 a.m. for me, what with the 13-hour time difference between here and Beijing) or when the start will be televised for me, which is sometime Friday night.  Either way, the chances are slim.  

So what am I still doing sitting here typing, parenthetically no less?

Crazy Crafter

The first sign of the end of our summer has arrived.  Partner returned to work this week after his six-week summer vacation.  I love that he has had this time to hang out with us.  I know that we are very lucky to have this down time.  I also know that the structure of our local school system is what allows this and I support it fully.  I’ve heard all of the arguments for year-round school, and some of them are very good.  But for us, I would not trade summer vacation for anything.  Staying up late, sleeping in late, doing whatever with our time for a while.  It is profoundly soul-nourishing and relaxing.  

(Anyone who might believe that having some time off in the summer makes public school jobs somehow less “real” or less “full time” than jobs that continue throughout the year, please note that Partner will make up for that time before Christmas.  He works enough extra hours supervising sporting events, meeting with parents and community leaders and in general purpose long and emotional days to eat through that six-weeks worth of off-time very quickly.  And yet we still love the job.  Go figure.)

Over the next ten months, his job will slowly deplete our reserves, until, by the time May arrives again, I will not want to hear another story about teenagers. Or parents of teenagers.  Or teachers.  Or the dress code.  Definitely not the (stupid) dress code.  Not one.  

In four more weeks, Sonar X8 and Sonar X5 will go to school as well.  Third grade for the one, and the Kindergarten premier for the other.  We are all very excited.  Ok, maybe Sonar X3 isn’t so excited.  

In the meantime, I’m trying to draw out the indulgences of the summer schedule with a few more summer projects in my queue.  

Four fabrics that will be transformed into Partner shirts over the next week.  The brown and sand are yummy cottons that will be transformed into two complementary two-tone bowling-style shirts.  The copper and the heathery pink are stretch poplins that will become long-sleeved, banded-collar dress shirts (unless I don’t have enough of the coppery one, in which case it will be a short-sleeved shirt of a different style).  He’s trying to get away from white dress shirts.  

Two of these yarns will become two stealth projects.  The other two were just on sale and I couldn’t resist them.  I’m weak sometimes.  Three cottons, one wool.  

Some crazy knitting people have taken to using the Summer Olympics as a time to try to accomplish some challenging knitting project (similar to the Knitting Olympics, held every four years during the Winter Olympics, or the Tour de Fleece for the spinner-types, held during the recent Tour de France).  The idea is to choose a challenging project and start and complete it between the lighting of the torch at the Opening Ceremonies and the dousing of the torch during the closing ceremonies.  (If this interests you, drop over to Ravelry, a social networking/cataloguing/showing-off group for fiber/needle/hook-types, and join up.  Their front page splashes out all the details.)

I have complicated feelings about the political implications of a Chinese Olympic games.   The Sonars and I are taking an opportunity to learn about China (the G-rated, 3-8 year-old version), sports, athletes, and understand the purpose and history of the Olympics.   But I am not choosing to officially participate in the Ravelympics per se.  I am choosing to use the time to motivate myself to plow through the extensive queue of knitting projects piled around me.  

On the needles:

1.  Partner hoodie.  Probably about 75% complete.  (Note to self:  No. More. July. Sweaters.)

2.  Deployment socks for BIL.  10% complete.  This is my porta-knitting.  Needs to be done before November at the latest.  Earlier would be better.  

Up next:

3.  Kilt Hose for uncle.  Pattern TBD.  Yarn on order.

4.  Mystery Stole 4.  This year’s pattern is hosted by Melanie Gibbons again, but her mom, Georgina Bow is the pattern designer.  This one begins in a month and lasts about six weeks.  Yarn on order (some wool/silk blend from Knit Picks), beads are in the stash.  The idea here is that once a week, participants (thousands of us all over the world) will get a clue from Melanie and Georgina.  We won’t know ahead of time what the final Stole will look like, so the project unfolds like a bit of a puzzle.  A Mystery, if you will.  It’s a great knitting adventure, stretching my skills in a direction I don’t usually go (i.e. to lace).  (If this interests you, go join the Yahoo Mystery Stole Group before September 12.  The first clue is released September 5).

5.  Stealth project A.  It’s small and green.

6.  Stealth project B.  It’s also small, but not green.  

7.  Stealth project C.  It will be very very small.  Color and yarn TBD.  

8.  When the weather turns a little cooler (For five days in December.  Maybe.) Sonar X3 wants a new pair of socks.  When the time comes, he’ll choose yarn from the stash, and I bet they’ll be striped. 

9.  I want to make myself an Urban Aran, Cardiganized.  We’ll see if I ever get to this one.  Purple.  I want it to be purple, I think.  Or a rich, jewely blue.  For some reason, most people making this one are sticking to browns and greys, with a couple of notable exceptions.  I’ve seen gorgeous ones in blue and red.  

Anyway, here’s the “Plan,” inasmuch as I ever do such a thing as plan:

Finish the Partner Sweater before the Olympics start (two sleeves and eight inches of body, all stockinette).  Then do the three stealth projects during the Olympics (I told you, they’re small).  Then finish the deployment socks and start the Kilt Hose before Mystery Stole opens.  Hopefully I can knit the Kilt Hose alongside the Stole, and be finished with those in time to make the Sonar socks before he wants them.  

I’ll wait for you to stop laughing.  

All this and four shirts, a novel in November, Christmas (it’s out there), oh, and I forgot a bag I was going to make for a friend, and the regular maintenance of myself and my family.  No problem.  I’m making sure the freezer is full of ice, in the event (ahem, likelihood) of knitter’s injury.

2008 World Tour--Special events

You thought I was joking about that boring you with details thing the other day, didn’t you?  

Here’s more boring details.  A few of the more memorable occurrences during our traipse across the Southwestern United States.  In no particular order, I think.  

Swimming with old friends.  Really lovely.  Especially when joined by a swimming pug.  Who can beat that? (excuse the post-swim hair)

New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Planetarium.  Cool Fractal film in the planetarium.  The boys were completely convinced that the planetarium floor was moving up and down during the film.  (It wasn’t)  The natural history of the personal computer was a surprising bonus that we wished we’d had more time to explore.  

Family barbecue with a city full of fireworks.  With a view to die for, we ate dogs, burgers, peach cobbler.  From the porch at my folks’ house we could see the fireworks in Rio Rancho, the Balloon Fiesta Park, Isotope Stadium, Four Hills, as well as random personal displays all over the city (these unsanctioned explosions risked $10,000 fines in a heightened fire-risk year).  Completely worth the trip.  And we fell right into bed when it was over.  

Road Tarantulas.  More than 20 of them, on the highway between Pecos, Texas and Artesia, New Mexico.  I think I squished a few of them, but only because, big as they were, I couldn’t see them until they were right in front of the van.  I have to think they were driven to cross the road by the thunderstorms since, our our rain-free return home I didn’t see a single one.  

Driving through the Jemez Mountains on a rainy July afternoon, peeing in the woods, collecting Ponderosa Pine cones for souvenir gifts.  Sweet fun, especially with three curious kids.  

Meeting a “Known Associate.”  Ok, we didn’t so much “meet” him as pass him and smile and say hello in a gas station.  The front of his t-shirt declared him a known associate.  Of what, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but the back told me it was the Banditos.  There must have been some kind of biker theme on this trip.  Perhaps it’s the price of gas?  

Hand-crocheted Sonar covers.  We were surprised by a sneak-attack gift of handmade lap-blankets for the Sonars.  I say sneak-attack because they were left quietly, without immediate direct explanation because the maker feared the Sonars wouldn’t like them.  Little did she know that I have three of the most delicious craft-loving little people in the world.  Enthusiastically, they wrapped themselves in their wee love-creations as they watched fireworks under the cooling desert sky.  

Kilt-hose.  I might get to make some.  Maybe.  

Partner Sweater.  Cast on.  Did hood.  Started shoulders.  Two+ skeins worked so far.   

Check Engine Light.  We are assured that this is just a problem sensor, and nothing to worry about.  Unless it starts flashing, and then it’s bad.  But seriously.  No one wants to have the Check Engine light come on in the middle of a 2000 mile summer trip.  Especially when you’re as far from home as you can be.  

Albuquerque Aquarium and Botanical Gardens.  Part of the Rio Grande Biopark.  We did the zoo last year.  Go to see the mouthful of teeth on the Sand Tiger sharks and the model boats.  But seriously, do NOT miss the Children’s Fantasy Garden.  We were so pleasantly surprised by the dragon, and that would have been enough for us.  To turn and find the giant vegetables, well, that was just the best kind of icing on the delight cake.  What if we could all have a dragon and some giant carrots in our garden???  We will repeat this one next time for sure.  

Desert Sky Wind Farm outside Fort Stockton, Texas.  These gigantic wind turbines sort of appear suddenly, in the middle of a vast expanse of rolling desert nothingness.  They remind me of starched soldiers, marching across the ridgetops.  While unimposing in a way, they do help me understand how Don Quixote could mistake them for giant aggressors in need of conquest.  

And there was so much more.  We had such a grand and wonderful time and we can’t wait to do it all again next time.  

The beginning and the end of the beginning of our trip

2008 New Mexico Summer Tour Day 1

For the next several posts, I hope to bore you with details.  

4:30 a.m.  mdt  Get up.  Seek caffeine.  Dress myself.  Put perishable food into van fridge.

5:00 mdt  Move sonars to van one at a time in the dark, hoping they don’t wake or at least go back to sleep in a calm, quiet reverie.  (Ha)

5:10 mdt  Leave house for the second time.  All sonars are awake.

7:00 mdt  First sonar goes back to sleep after minor skirmish over pillow touching.

7:15 mdt  Last sonar goes back to sleep.

7:30 mdt  Commuter traffic in downtown San Antonio.  Regretting route as partner drives and I stitch turtle pieces.  

7:45 (yes, still a.m.) mdt  First sonar wakes again followed closely by second.  They are hungry.  I toss muffins at them as Partner dodges “drivers” who are texting, eating breakfast, and applying makeup whilst driving 800 miles per hour on the San Antonio highways.  

8-ish  My first turn to drive and the end of my specific memory about most of the day.  

I do recall that at noon we ate pbj in a truckstop parking lot in Fort Stockton, Texas, alongside some bikers who had this bright yellow “Big Bird” bike.  

I recall that I finished stitching together Sonar X3’s new turtle, except for eyes.  It is super-cool. 

Here’s a shot of it naked.

I probably should have warned you that there would be adult content in today’s blog.  

I also recall that we ate dinner at Farley’s in Roswell, New Mexico.  Go there.  To Roswell, I mean.  (I’ll tell you about Farley’s in another post.)  The alien lampposts are the best.  

From Roswell to the old homestead should have taken a smidge over three hours, but instead involved three pee breaks and took a bit longer than that.  

All sonars gamely stayed awake and sniped at each other (mostly about pillows again—note to self: no pillows on next driving trip) after what was a pretty bicker-free day.  

At arrival minus 25 minutes (San Pedro on I-40) the first sonar fell asleep.  

At arrival minus 20 minutes (The big I, aka the intersection of I-25 and I-40) the second sonar fell asleep.

At arrival minus 3 minutes (Alameda and Coors) the last sonar fell asleep.  

I thought briefly about trying to keep them awake all the way to the end, but I was so relieved to have a teeny bit of quiet in the car as we soaked up the lights of Albuquerque that I just couldn’t do it.  

9:30 p.m. mdt  We arrived safely at our destination and after many hugs and a little dancing, we fell into bed and slept deep un-car-vibratey sleeps.  Hallelujah.  

Packing

We are about to pack ourselves and our children into the Eurovan and drive 900 miles through the desert.  I would not necessarily say it is the bleakest drive in the world (that stretch along the border through El Paso is pretty bleak, but we’re not going that way this year), not is it the most monotonous (SharpSticks wins that one for her drive through the wheat fields of, hm, Alberta was it?), but it does have a certain featurelessness that is typical of much desert driving.  

Just to make things interesting, we’re taking a hard right at Fort Stockton, Texas, detouring from the Interstate this year and going through Carlsbad and Roswell in New Mexico.  

For those of you unfamiliar with NM geography, Carlsbad has what are among the most famous caverns in the world situated nearby.  Aptly titled, Carlsbad Caverns National Monument.  (I love that web address.  The simplicity.)  And Roswell has made itself famous for association with extra-terrestrial life.  Our terminal point in this grand tour is Albuquerque, city of my childhood.  We are still deluding ourselves that we will make it there in one day.  

We are two drivers, and the drive from here to there is 14 hours, not counting pee breaks, leg stretching, dinner, and stops to appreciate the cultural/ educational/ social/ geographical/ historical/ silent and/or childless significance of any given place.

So today we are deciding what to pack into the van with us and the three Sonars.  So far we have packed two audio books and a bucket of car-appropriate crafty/fiddly things.  Oh, and need I say there will be a bucket of legos and a kilo of stickers?

Perhaps clothes and sunscreen would be wise additions?  And of course, some knitting.  I can’t decide between a very weird sock (I tried to link directly, but it was weird… it’s the Conservative sock, which will be decidedly unconservative in some actual colors) or a sweater for Partner (The Hacky Sack Hoodie from Son of Stitch and Bitch—though I tried to talk him into the totally hot Messenger sweater with the skull on the shoulder).  Go ahead and laugh.  Oh yeah, sure, ‘take the sweater,’ you might say, wiping away a tear of hilarity, ‘to knit in the 100+ degree (Fahrenheit) New Mexico desert.   Good plan.’  But I will need some knitting to wile away the hours, knitting that isn’t too challenging, so that I can follow the pattern over the wailing and gnashing of teeth (‘My butt hurts’ or ‘I know we just stopped ten miles ago, but I will not pee in a cup!’).  

So, what must you have with you when you go on a trip?  Sedatives?  A travel guide?  A nanny?  Earplugs?