Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Creation green stuff ...

Theme of the week is green! Or it was two weeks ago and then life happened. And the theme was no longer green but brownies and dinners and parties!!! But two weeks ago the creation theme was green. I have photographic evidence.

Husband and I went to the farmers market on a Sunday to procure some basil and other fresh produce. Basil was by far the most abundant thing we purchased. I believe my scale registered over 400grams. By the way, that bowl is 12" wide or more.

And some of the leaves were really really huge!

 

 

After remembering to purchase walnuts, pesto was made! I consider 200grams to be one batch.

I used:

- basil, from plants that have not yet flowered (didn't do that last year and it made sour tasting pesto)

- extra virgin olive oil

- walnuts (toasted or not depending on time)

- parmesean

400 grams of basil leaves made approximately 2 pints of pesto which I put in sandwich bags and popped in the freezer for later use. Mmm!

Staying green I kept practicing with the knitting machine (and used greenish yarn, hence green theme).

I finished the second of the striped socks, which looks like this (see left photo). I also made one in a teal color. The second knitting adventure was rounded off with testing whether I could adjust a pattern to work with different sizes. And also make something wearable.

I cast on 64 stitches across the machine bed.

Knit 20 rows. And turned a hem. Knit 6 more rows.

Create short row heel across right side 32 stitches.

Knit 62 rows along all 64 needles.

Create short row toe across right side 32 stitches (rational is that when you seam the toe that seam will now happen on the top of your foot, not the bottom).

Knit 6 rows with waste yarn.

Crochet to seam the toe and side. TADA!

1st ankle sock on knitting machine. IT FITS!

Be excellent to each other!

 

Friday, July 19, 2013

Expanding the collection...

Let me introduce the newest member in my knitting family...

No given name yet, but called a Brother K840

I haven't named it yet, but it will be the stallion in my herd of knitting accessories and machines.

The decision to buy a knitting machine percolated for years before the capital to realize my dream materialized. My desire for this machine is driven by two forces: first, the knowledge that tendons in my hands are damaged and only capable of so much fiddly work (damage which cannot be undone only managed and improved somewhat). Second, that the small budget of a budding designer does not include sample knitters and the first samples must be made by me. Also, that it is possible to have more ideas for designs than time in which to finish them all. The large stockingette chunk of sweater can be designed in two seconds, and knit over a week or more on needles. Presto machine, now stockingette sweater is done in 30 minutes! (Or more, this post does not presume to give accurate details on the time and energy involved in machine knitting.)

Ideals aside for a moment, I'm pumped about learning this machine. For the first time while knitting I am taking lessons ... Which are prompting me forward through these new techniques must faster than anticipated.

Second little learning sock on machine, first of the pair in this yarn.

To the right is the second sock (little Christmas ornament sized sock) made on the machine. The first was in an awful, or awesome, hunters orange. The mate to this lovely little sock is waiting to be seemed (something I also learned to do using the machine). The whole sock probably took an hour, including seaming. And the second went faster.

The real learning curve, for me, isn't the pattern directions or the techniques. It is the mechanics of the machine. Suddenly, there are moving parts and wand looking things instead of two straight sticks. Tension is controlled by something that looks like bug antenna, and it must be right or the whole thing gets gummed up.

On the second sock I learned how to pick up dropped stitches, fixed an improper crochet seam and hide my mistakes.

Some people think this machine will help me use more of my stash to make more things.

Some people didn't quite understand that now cotton yarn is needed to make dishcloths. I'm going shopping this weekend!

Oh, and advice: if you plan to buy a machine - read everything you can find first, buy used, and if possible buy from someone in your area that might have other services like lessons or repairs too! Even if you think you know everything, there is still so much to learn!

 

Be excellent to each other!

 

Monday, July 15, 2013

Yarn at altitude ...

My husband and I just returned from our summer vacation. We drove for 16+ hours to Grand Lake, CO; which is located right next to Rocky Mountain National Park (RMNP) and 1 hour from Estes Park. As my first time west of Fargo, ND we made sure to take the scenic route through Colorado, along US-34 through Roosevelt National Park, into Estes and then along the Trail Ridge Pass through RMNP.
I give you these details because they bear upon yarn related topics.

Our entrance to the park began with the daily crossing of the bighorn sheep. They cross the highway every day at 4-4:30 pm. The park rangers are always there with their stop signs.
These will be my future heard.

My new bighorn flock.

View from Rainbow Pass.
To go along with my new flock, and all the yarn I will have to make from their fleeces - there were some really spectacular views ...

Of course little photos don't convey the full scale of these peaks, which aren't even the highest in the Rocky Mountain chain.







Elk in the tundra. A male is leading the herd.



We reached an altitude of approximately 12,000 ft. That altitude is the elk's living room. They were grazing on several slopes along the Alpine Pass.

After climbing the Alpine Trail to a peak - and drinking water and breathing - we gazed at the splendor of the mountains, seeing many trails calling our names. Next time.






 More photos:

Wildflowers of the tundra. Yellow is the common yellow monkey flower and blue is Mountain Fringed Gentian.
View from the peak of the Alpine Trail. Over 12,000 ft. Oh, and in case it seems too epic, you drive up to 11,500 feet and walk a short trail the rest of the way. You still breathe incredibly hard.
Baby marmot.

In the Kawuneeche Valley a cow and calf graze by a stream (which might be the beginnings of the Colorado River).
Elk grazing in the early morning light. There were larger males in the tundra lazing on the slopes.
Wildflowers by the beaver ponds, they are Little Elephant Head.

A little tired, and definitely feeling the altitude I spent my last day in Colorado relaxing. I worked on a Calypso sock being done in knitpicks chroma fingering - all done english style! It gave my poor trigger finger left index finger a much needed break.

While knitting the sock, ideas for new designs floated through my head - ideas like Monkey Flowers (yellow flower) and Little Elephant Heads (pink flower). A whole new set based on RMNP.
Plus, I'm learning how to use a knitting machine this week! After my three lessons and some assistance I hope to be churning out a few sweater designs!

Be excellent to each other!

Friday, July 5, 2013

Dream a little dream of yarn ...

Occasionally a dream is both intense and super satisfying. It's a change from dreams that are stressful, chaotic, and upsetting. During college I took a psychology course, focusing on dreams and the subconscious. It both improved my ability to remember my dreams, and provided lots of fun conversations with friends. Here goes:

 

A woman meets up with a party at a hotel. The lobby is designed like an atrium with stairs that ascend to terraces along the sides. Several terraces are the location of restaurants, set among the trees and cobbled avenues of this inside paradise. The woman's destination is a terrace restaurant towards the rear of the atrium. It specializes in small dishes of rare delicacies.

The party she is meeting more closely resembles an expedition force, only with two children tagging along. There are three men, two other women and a small boy and girl.

One man wears a long brown duster coat with an Australian cowboy or rancher hat. He face is angular, but very pale considering his outfit suggests a career of horses, dust and sunshine. Another man wears a beret upon his curly brown hair. He is dressed in a simple white button shirt and hiking pants with lots of pockets. Behind glasses his eyes are sharp, but turn kind with a smile as the woman approaches. The third man wears black with a sumptuous velvet vest over top. He tries to look arrogant, but comes across as slightly nervous.

The children sit quickly, as if they were expecting to be rebuked for causing the slightest disturbance, but upon the woman's arrival, they become slightly less withdrawn and smile and laugh together as they begin a quiet game. One of the women is obviously their governess or guardian as she sits close by supervising their game. The other is dressed as an art instructor. Long smock covered in paint, but underneath the woman arriving can discern a smart black dress with sensible shoes. A conglomeration of clothing items, that somehow work together to give the woman a bohemian, slightly cosmopolitan air.

 

Once arrived the woman is greeted joyously. Her journey to the atrium has been long and hard. She doesn't remember all her travels, but she remembers suffering loss and heartache. These people around her smile at her, asking for particulars of her travels, but understanding when she would rather remain silent.

There is one important piece of information that she shares. The house is occupied by a sorcerer or a demon. Their jobs will be hard, but not impossible. He has gotten complacent and merely let's his household traps maintain sefences without supervising.

The group finishes their meals and prepare to depart. As they rise their waiter returns to the table brandishing a knife at the smart cosmopolitan woman. From her frock she reveals a long blade, engaging with the demon as the rest of the party flees.

Somehow the groups escapes the atrium, but the cosmopolitan woman doesn't rejoin them. They leave her behind getting away in the cars parked outside awaiting them.

A short, or infinitely long time later (the woman can never remember) they arrived outside a dark house. Lights do not appear through the windows and ivy has been climbing the gate and exterior giving an abandoned look. But, it is not abandoned. It is defended. Well.

The man in black with the velvet vest approaches the gate with a key, it unlocks noiselessly and the party enters. Once through the gate shuts quietly behind them, clicking as it shuts. At least some in the party expected some loud and ominous noise as they breath slowly out in relief.

Approaching the door the party is distracted by lights bursting into illumination to the right side. Loud clanking noises accompanied by tinkling music are heard. The children grasp the reality first, that a carnival or amusement park has been constructed on the property.

While investigating this new construction (the woman knows it wasn't here before) the children ask to investigate the smallest roller coaster. Their guardian quickly discusses with the three men and they leave the group on the main path as they ascend to the ride. The ride starts without warning, somehow grabbing the children and woman carrying them along the rails in rickety cars that wail with every turning. The rest of the group can only watch in horror as the children and guardian approach a low hanging sign post above the tracks. The sign slowly moves down as the rides approach, falling the last few feet giving the riders no time to react as their heads appear to be chopped off as they pass under. Their bodies disappear and the group is left to mourn their loss. The two women and both children are gone.

The group quickly leaves the horrific amusement park, returning to the front door. Again the man in black and the vest is able to easily open the door and they enter. There are no lights. The man in the duster approaches a brazier to light it, a creaking sound is heard. Footsteps. Shuffles. A crowd is gathering upon the stair landing. Shambling down the little light of the flame reveals defiled monsters. The man in the vest reveals a glowing blade. Turning quickly back to the woman he hands her the key, he turns back to the creaturs and engages in ferocious battle.

The man in the beret and the man in the duster hurry the woman down and side passage. She finds a door leading to another staircase which she knows, somehow, will take them upstairs to the largest bedroom in the house.

The two men and the woman carefully ascend the stairs, no longer trusting the house. Upon the second floor they leave the stairwell, turning right towards the largest room.

A glowing light fills the hallway, at the very end of which, outside the doors, is a large glowing creature. It glows red, the color of anger, and it watches them. It appears to sense their intentions to enter this room, raising upon its haunches to growl a low threat. The woman and the men turn towards a smaller room and the creature sits back down appeased that they do not intend to enter its domain.

Inside the smaller room are chairs and a small bathtub behind a scream.

The loss of five of their companions has drained the woman's resources to continue on. She draws a bath and slips into the warm calming water. The man in the beret and the man in the duster sit in the chairs behind the screen.

The woman almost falls asleep, her head almost slipping beneath the surface. She jolts upright, causing the man in the beret to call out whether she is alright. Responding in the affirmative to two men continue talking.

The woman begins to follow their talk, hearing things of enchantments, a quest, the dangers of their road. As she listens the woman begins to understand. The man in the beret does not believe their companions dead, merely taken. The man in the duster believes their companions are being tortured to obtain information. It seems unreal. All these people that the woman knows as an acquaintance are being tortured. For what?

"Does she know?"

"That she holds the key, no. She hasn't realized."

The woman has a key. Whether she is the woman they speak of, she has a key. The man in black and velvet gave it to her before he saved them from the demons.

She rises from the tub splashing large quantities of water upon the floor in her haste. The quickly robes and rushes to the door of their room.

The two men hurry towards her, but she holds up her hand. Looks of understanding cross their face, looks she doesn't understand.

She opens the door, approaches the creature ... Instead of challenging her is slowly moves aside, allowing her to pass. Once through it growls at the men challenging their entrance to the same room. The woman puts the key in the lock, the key the man in black gave her. The key turns and she enters a room bathed in light.

Or darkness and red burning?

Or light ...

The woman closes her eyes and breathes.

A slow growl greets her ... But her nose senses a warm musty smell. A smell of wood, oils, fabric, and a familiar comforting smell.

The growl grows louder as the woman inhales over and over.

 

Lanolin. She smells lanolin.

The growl turns to a whine. She opens her eyes to a brightly colored and wonderfully light room in which sit baskets of...

Roving, yarn, half finished garments. A spinning wheel sits in one corner. A knitting contraption in another.

She beings to remember. This is her room. Filled with her passion, knitting, yarn, spinning. The warmth of the fiber in her hands - the smell of the sheep as the cleans the locks.

Somewhere a deep click is heard and feet approach up the stairs.

The door is thrown open wide by the man in black and velvet with the other two gentlemen behind.

She remembers.

Her husband.

Their household.

The children that are hers! Safe! As they had been trapped only by the malignant spirit which used her S the key to his enchantment. So long as she didn't remember, so long as she didn't know ... They were all under his power. He used her memories, leaving her with nothing. These memories gave him the power to take their house and begin building his power.

Her people found her quickly and began moving to return her to house in an attempt to overthrow the spirit or power.

Her room of yarn was again hers.

Her husband walked her towards a wall, covered with a carved tree. The wall moved at his touch and more passages were revealed more passages of glowing rooms that smelt of different crafts... Singed wood, warm butter and crusty loaves ... Their house was warm. It was filled with their wonderful passions. Her memory was hers again.

 

 

And there was yarn!

 

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Stylin' gloves....

My first goal in life is to be fashionable. Which is why I own embroidered overalls, a snood, and a one fish two fish t-shirt. Sometimes I go out on a limb and wear silk skirts, cute flats, and wrap around shirts that accentuate the waist I create by biking to work.

Matching my therapeutic gloves to my outfit is always a challenge. Do I want the glove to match? How much sympathy or questions do I wish to inspire? Is the wrist soar and aching, in need of extra support?

I've found three good styles for the therapeutic gloves I use.

From left to right:

Far left - crafting gloves are great for giving my hands extra support whilst I k3tog or cruise back and forth in stockingette. But, does a person always want to sport orange hands everywhere? If orange is your color, and you can feel the tingle that means a flare up might be a few days away - spend some time in these. They often remind me to adjust how I use my hands or to take a break.

The middle - wrap around Velcro section adds a great amount of support whilst the neutral color blends seamlessly with most outfits. The only drawback is that extra support is not ideal for k3tog. No lace with this glove. However, it is my go to biking glove. Supports my wrist from the pressure of holding the bars and breaths much better than an immobilizer.

The far right - if you wish to attract attention and garner sympathy form onlookers, this big black immobilizing brace is perfect. For those days when the joint is aching and just a touch painful - the aching heat radiating out - this glove is perfect. Recently, my husband spent some time in the ER with a dislocated elbow. Much more serious than my tendonitis. But after speaking with my husband the nurse at admissions turned towards myself, pointed to the big black wrist brace, and inquired whether I needed to see someone. Now poor husband and I can coordinate our big immobilizes when we go out to dinner. We are the best dressed anywhere we go!

Now for the exciting news: at my school a teacher discarded an old Guess Who game. Following the idea of blogger Karen Kavett on her blog, I'm going to make a Doctor Who guess who game! Get ready friends, brush up on your original episodes, Doctors 1-8 are included!