Now Norma Knits

35. A Nod To The Fact That This Is A Knit Blog

Holy crap.  I almost forgot this was supposed to be a knitting blog.

All right, look, so here's a State Of The Knits Address. 

Hm. 

Uh. 

Well. 

Look, over there! 

What was that?  A bird?

.

.

.

Cripe, I'm pathetic. 

The other night during LOST, I knitted a few rows on this.

And then on Friday in between my class and a lunch engagement, I knitted a few more rows.

And while listening to an episode of This American Life and reading blogs Saturday morning, I knitted still more rows.  And a few more rows here and a few more rows there during that nail-biter called the Super Bowl last night. So the scarf, it grows.

Every time I make one of these Noro Silk Garden scarves, it is my new favorite. These two colorways (267 and 255) were so random and seemingly uncomplementary, I was dubious as to the outcome, but it's turning out to be subtle and pretty and (yes, I already said this) my new favorite. It almost seems that you can't lose with these yarns.  Just grab two colorways and knit. You'll end up with a soft, warm, interesting and pretty scarf that gathers compliments from strangers.  Yes, Cookie, you should.

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In case you haven't heard about this project, Maryse is collecting 8-inch machine-washable worsted-weight squares (by February 14th) for a blanket for Elisa's dad, who is in a V.A. hospital in Iowa following a stroke. Elisa and Maryse are women I know here in New England. Elisa was a New England gal, that is, until she moved to California.      

In Elisa's words:  My dad will likely be in that hospital for the foreseeable future, and when I arrived, there was virtually nothing in his room that makes it seem like he is a man who is cared about.

Maryse took the bull by the horns.  'nuff said.

 

My square is made of Mission Falls 1824 wool, in denim blue.  As my sometimes amazingly super-fantastic dumb luck would have it, I cast on 40 stitches on US 7 needles and did a simple basketweave pattern with garter stitch edges, without swatching, knitted it during the evening news on TV Saturday, and the friggin' thing came out PRECISELY 8 inches square.  Let's pretend that superwash wool doesn't stretch out like a mofo when it's washed, ok?  We'll just forget about that little detail while I send in my perfect 8-inch specimen.  Deal, Maryse?  Elisa? 

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I am serving notice on the sock:  I'm going to give the yarn one more chance with a ribbed pattern, and if that doesn't work, it's going to be available to someone as a giveaway.  I've had it with that damn Zitron yarn!  Had it!

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I'm sad that I'm not knitting on the three sweaters I have on the needles, and I have no decent excuse to offer. Sooner or later I'll get in the mood.  I was close this weekend, actually. February seems like a good sweater-knitting month. That is not to be taken as a promise.

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The other day Adelaide said something that made me feel nice:

You know, N, for a kid who lives way in the boonies, you sure have an interesting time of it.

It's true. I do have an interesting time of it. My life is pretty full. Despite how it may seem (this is meant to be s-a-r-c-a-s-m) it's not all wine and roses, and there are some gloomy moments to help make the bright ones more bright. So it's all good. There isn't always a whole lot of time (or interest) for the knitting. Maybe the blog name should indeed be changed. Blog 365 is a wonderful vehicle through which to notice things in my day, though. I just love that about it. 

Speaking of comments to make me feel good, I thank you all for the lovely comments lately.  It makes me happy that I'm meeting some little measure of success at entertaining you - be it through my video choices, my little vignettes, my work stories, or my kvetching  - even if there's not much knitting going on.

Cracking The WIP

Tell me the truth. Is this getting out of hand, or does it look about right?  (Something tells me I am asking the wrong crowd.)

Counterclockwise from top left (ETA: As Ida so kindly pointed out, my description is running CLOCKWISE, not COUNTERclockwise. Oy.)

1. Surprise object

2. Croc sock

3. Koigu sweater ("Beth" as I recall?  How bad is that? Can I even find the pattern anymore?  Yes, actually, I'm just joshin' ya. I know I can.  It's "Beth" in....uhmmmm.....some Rowan magazine. That narrows it down, right?)

4. Ribby Cardi in "raisin" and "rhubarb" Mission Falls 1824 wool. I would REALLY like to be wearing this NOW. The fronts are left to be completed.

5. Gift thrummed mitten of my own handspun. WHY is this not yet done? It's a mystery.

6. David's *ahem* birthday sock in the heavyweight Vermont wool/mohair blend. His birthday was in November. Notice I said sock singular. I dunno, is this considered alienation of affection?

7. Must Have Cardi. I am the cohostess of the Must Have Too KnitAlong. Pathetic. And oh, how I love that yarn (it's a discontinued Italian merino called "Amawalk Tweed" in a scrumptious burnished orange-red with flecks of moss green and yellow-gold, darker red-orange and even the occasional unexpected pink. I love this yarn.), and oh how beautiful I think the cardi is going to be. Why, Norma, WHY is it languishing?!

8. Orange Koigu Feather & Fan sock. That's moving right along. *cough*

Thanks to the modern wonder of the estrogen patch, I am feeling like myself again. May I hear a woo?  and also a hoo?  (thanks, Mama, for one of my favorite phrases...) So I took advantage of the energy and good, healthy feelings to do some heavy-duty (aka "spring") cleaning of part of the house, a spit and a promise on the rest, and then welcomed Abigail home for spring break with a special meal last night. As a consequence, no knitting got done. But I did read a snippet more of The Conjurer's Bird. Well, a bit more than a snippet. I'm about halfway done. I'm positively captivated by the mystery, the story-telling method keeps me on my toes, and I love the rich way the relationships are developing between the characters. Such longing.

And p.s. Did I mention, I FEEL GOOD! Yay for estrogen! Boo for getting old. (drop in estrogen is, it turns out, what is responsible for the headaches and the general feelings of malaise.)  Replacement of the estrogen is controversial, and something I have wanted to avoid, but the latest research suggests that doing it as I'm doing it -- estrogen only, and not with any other hormones -- and starting early -- i.e., before menopause -- at small doses, may be the way to do it to lessen the risk. At least this is the "truth" I wish to believe at this point in time. As of course we all know, the truth keeps changing. But I've decided that I just can't live with the headaches and the other ill feelings, so the patches it will continue to be....

Must.....Keep......Eye....On....The (Wait, what was the question?)

I have to tell you a story. (don't groan. I'll try to keep it short. ish.)

I did quite well in court reporting school, but I was not one of the professor's favorites. In fact, she downright didn't like me. I did not practice on the steno machine, and I still passed my speed and accuracy tests. That pissed her off to no end (although she was far too refined to use the phrase "pissed off"), as it eroded the Absolute Truth that she preached:  You MUST practice EVERY DAY or you won't get your speed. Every day we were to pass in our practice tapes...the piles of paper from the steno machine to show that we had practiced the night before. Mine were always about a quarter- to a half an inch thick. (they would likely have been not even that thick, except we had to pass in something, otherwise points were taken off.) Other people's were five inches, six inches, eight inches thick. She praised the ones who passed in the thick ones, and most of the time they made their speed tests. She glowered when she received mine. The other students would give a tsk-tsk kind of look. Shame on Norma. But then I'd pass the speed tests, too. Worse than that, I'd ace the written knowledge tests, but the others often were not allowed to proceed because, although they had gotten their speed, they did not pass the academic bits. It was really all about the concentration. That was my super-power. (Well, that and super-human hearing. But for this discussion that part is irrelevant.)

When it came close to graduation, we all sat for the national certification test. This was meant to be only for practice, because nobody really expected you to pass the test before you had even graduated from court reporting school. It was done to get familiar with the whole thing and get a little more experience under one's belt, experience the stress of taking the test, and if one were lucky enough to pass, well, all the better. So the test day was there and we were all set up in a classroom where the test was administered. There were two people in the front of the room, professional readers. They had timed material to read to us in one or two voices, depending on the test. It was three different types of material at speeds of 180, 200, and 225 words per minute. In order to pass, you had to have 95% accuracy or greater in the transcript you later typed up from the dictated material. 

So my seat was the closest to the open window.  It was May and it was hot. I wanted the breeze. The dictation was given, we finished, and I knew I had GOT IT. I heaved a HUGE sigh of relief and started jumping around in my seat. I couldn't wait to get to the typing area to type it up. WOW! I think I passed!!! 

WHINING began - loud - crying, "Foul! It's not FAIR! The lawnmower under the window. We all lost our concentration! Do-over!" (I'm really BAD at tolerating whining. I can't stand it for ONE SECOND. Unless it's me doing the whining. Then I can listen to it ALL DAY.)

The professional dictators (sounds like Fidel Castro or something, eh?) began to agree. They didn't know what to do. Should they contact National and get a ruling? Should they call the test a failure? Is there a procedure for this kind of thing? Then the professor said, "Wait. Before we call National, does anyone think they got it?"

Red-faced Norma had to raise her hand. Tentatively. "Lawnmower? What lawnmower?" Many nasty stares. Hey, this thing cost me $225, and if I passed it, it would mean not having to pass it later, and it would mean getting hired somewhere at a higher pay rate. I was not about to say I didn't get it just to be with the "in" crowd. The Professor Who Never Liked Me turned GRAY. Through pursed lips and with a roll of the eyes, she said, "Well, since Norma was the closest to the window and SHE SAYS SHE GOT IT....." 

This story is to illustrate that I used to have it. I mean, I really had it. The "it" being P-E-R-F-E-C-T CONCENTRATION. No A.D.D. here. Nope. Not even close. (I did pass, by the way, in case you're wondering.)

Then what the hell has happened? I have clearly lost it. I've lost my concentration mojo.

To illustrate my point, here are my current works in progress:

The second Vineyard sock....at least I'm making some progress. I've turned the heel. This is good.  Progress is good. (ow, that windowsill really needs to be taken care of.) Hm? What? Where was I?  Oh, yes....

Ribby Cardi. Has not changed since Rhinebeck. I'm somewhere about a quarter of the way done the back, two sleeves done. Need to do the two fronts and the finishing.

The Dulaan toddler's vest and the Must Have Cardi. Just a tiny, faint blip on the radar. And then there's the second Dr. Suess mitten for Dulaan. It's bright yellow-and-green, and it sits in the Dulaan basket next to my computer chair, waving at me so I won't forget.

Beth. I think. Is that even the right name? How horrible that this little love o' mine has been ignored so long. How could I fall so head-over-heels in love with this project and then even forget the name so soon? Need to rip back that sleeve cap, redo it, and get on with the rest of the sweater.

Rogue II. Not really anymore. I've made a decision to not continue with the Rogue in the yarn I was using. I hadn't gotten far anyway. But after seeing Teresa's Version One in Green Mt. Mohair in Rhinebeck last weekend, I've decided to restart it in the "spice" Green Mt. Mohair that's in my stash. I decided that the Rowan Magpie in the gold color, although beautiful, is too flat a color for the Rogue I wanted. I want the flecks. Flecks is important.  (right, Laura?)

A new project. Yes, of course. What else would a person with newly-developed ADD do? Start a new project, of course. Backyard Leaves scarf from Scarf Style. I love everything about it:  the pattern (easy-to-follow chart, ingenious and lovely design. Yay, Annie Modesitt!), the yarn, the color (yay, Better Pal!). I've completed one of 22 of those leaf repeats. Then there are two edging charts to be completed. By the way, if anyone is an advanced beginner and wants to try a chart for the first time, I'd recommend this scarf. Just challenging enough, and yet very well written and easy-to-understand.

And then, of course, there's the spinning. Let's not even talk about the spinning. The blissful black hole. 

Perhaps more important is what effect the loss of my concentration super-power has had on my paying work. Less output = less money = less fiber. This is a SERIOUS SITUATION, people!

And in the queue, just off the top of my head:  Fair Isle fingerless gloves, mittens for Sandy's Warm Hands knitalong ...........oh, cripes....there it goes. I've lost my concentration again. 

Will I ever get it back?