It’s been a time of passing here. My aunt, then when I was in Chicago I got the news that an old friend and housemate had died suddenly. He was the one I won $5 from in the Japanese Yarn Cocoon demonstration. Then a co-worker whose office was about 3 feet from mine, who died of the same disease at the same age as my mother. I know death is part of life, but still…

I live in an area that has a Mexican tradition, so my husband made some ofrendas for my aunt and my old housemate at a neighborhood site. While looking for photos for the ofrendas, I found this picture of me, at the All Saints Day pageant in kindergarten.

I was Saint Louise de Marillac. I know this because it is written on the back in my mother’s perfect Palmer Method. Note  the edge of the Jack o’Lantern in the lower left. Way to mix those traditions.

We had All Saints Day pageants on a regular basis throughout grammar school. My favorite was the year my friends was St. Lucy. St. Lucy had her eyes put out for refusing to give in to some pagan demand or other.  My friend carried two blue marbles in a saucer to represent the eyes. No wonder we loved the martyr stories!

So Happy Halloween, All Saints, All Souls, Dia de los Muertos to you all. Gather in your memories and your loved ones. Eat lots of Halloween candy. I’ve been knitting my way through the World Series, photos to follow.

MLE

I recently returned from a trip home to N.J. for my aunt’s funeral.  I’ve talked about her before. I am her namesake, but she was Marie Louise and I am Mary Louise.  She was 92, and entered the convent at 16.  She was a brilliant woman and the former mother general of her order. If there is such a thing as a wonderful funeral, this was it.  What better way for any of us to die than as a valued, honored member of a community that cared for us through the end?   A few months ago, I called the sister in charge of the nursing/retirement home, to see how things were going, since my aunt no longer talked on the phone or wrote letters.  Sister seemed surprised when I expressed my gratitude for the loving care my aunt was receiving.  “To us, your aunt is an icon of greatness.  She led us through the most difficult times in our history, and planned for the future most of us couldn’t envision.”

That was the message I heard over and over at the wake and funeral.  A nun’s funeral has a very clearly outlined ritual, which comforted even this agnostic lapsed Catholic’s heart, from the opening prayers  to the Salve Regina at the graveside.  Towards the end of the wake, there was a time of reflection, where everyone had a chance to speak, and oh, the stories they told.  From the time my aunt asked the bishop in a budget meeting in the 60’s why the teaching nuns did not receive the same stipend as the teaching brothers and was told “not to be so fresh,” to individual testimonies of life-changing attentions from a teacher, principal and friend.  (BTW, the nuns ended up with equal pay; that bishop had no idea who he was dealing with.)

One nun spoke of how loving my aunt was, but it was not “a Hallmark card kind of love.”  I’ll say.  When I was a teenager, we butted heads constantly.  She drove me crazy, and I’m sure I did the same to her.  I was too lazy, self-centered, didn’t help my mother enough, etc. etc. When my mother was dying of cancer, I was 21.  Mommy asked me to promise her that I would always make my aunt, her sister, welcome, and be good to her.  Of course I said yes, but inside I thought “You have got to be kidding!”  A promise is a promise, though, and I reached out to my aunt.  In turn, she modeled for me how to back away from a position you’ve taken, show your vulnerabilities, and allow others to grow and change.  We became dear friends, and as she slipped into dementia, I missed her greatly.

Here she is in an Aran cardigan I knitted for her about 15 years ago.  This was the first time I used the Aran lace stitch that I’ve since put in the Yarni Lace baby cardigan.  The pictures are scanned from old snapshots, so they don’t show very good detail.  I was taking them so I’d have a record of what I did, and was telling my aunt I didn’t care what she looked like, I only wanted to see the sweater!

I wasn’t knitting it fast enough, I guess, since one time when she asked how it was going, she told me I’d better hurry up or she’d be wearing it as her shroud!   She wore it many years, I’m glad to say, and was not wearing it last week when they laid her to rest.  Another sister will be cozying up in it as she watches the light fade.

MLE

I did promise some finished product shots of the latest version of the stockinette squares  no-sew blanket.  The ‘tie dye’ knit up wonderfully.  The recipient was thrilled.  When I told her how I had tie-dyed the yarn in her honor, she got a little teary-eyed and said ” So this may be our last tie dye together…”

I didn’t have much time for a photo shoot, so a couple of the pictures are blurry, but here it is in all its parti-colored glory.

The sharp-eyed among you may have noticed that the inner squares are all different sizes.  Yes, this was done on purpose.  When blanket girl was little,  she received a pop up tent for indoor play.  When baby sitting, I noticed she was trying to crawl into it with it upside down.   I told her she might break it,  and she cried mournfully — “But I want it to be different every time!”  That pretty much sums up her approach to much in life.  (ENFPs unite.)  So, this  is the Different Every Time blanket.

I wish I had started sooner and made it one strip larger, but I suppose I could make one and add it on. It will be a good size for wrapping up while studying. She looks happy enough, anyway.

How did I know they were the right colors?  Check out the shoes.

MLE

This does not refer to the dye job I quit doing.  (Free at last -  I started going grey in High School.)  Evidence of that decision is in this beautiful photo by Sarah Walker.  For more adorable boys and horses, check out her blog.

No, for the first time ever, I tried dyeing yarn.  I am making a Stockinette Squares No Sew Blanket as a going-off-to- college present for one the kids I make Christmas presents with every year.  Every year, she wanted to do tie-dye.  We tie-dyed shoelaces, napkins, pj’s, t-shirts, socks and other things I can’t remember.  I wanted to have an element of that in the blanket,  but couldn’t find any machine washable yarn that worked.  So, tie-dye it myself, why not?  After searching for good info on the web, I ended up buying Gorgeous Hand Dyed Yarn at Home from Three Irish Girls.  I had a few good laughs with the Irish Girl  at Sock Summit, she has beautiful yarn, so I figured she  must know what she’s doing.  It is an excellent booklet. I may buy the one on gradient/self striping dyeing, too.  If it didn’t work, I could always overdye whatever turned out.  I went with tie dye colors: scarlet, purple, turquoise, yellow.

I followed her directions more or less, but instead of heating on the stove, I used a crockpot I found at Goodwill for $5.00.  It was perfect.  A few lessons, though.

Don’t shake the jar unless you know the lid is on really tight.

Even thought the yarn does not look like it will be pretty, be patient.

Wound into balls, it looks much better.

There can be significant variations in one dye lot — how it happened, I have no idea.

Best of all, the yarn really looked like it will work with the solid colors that I chose for the squares.

Finished product modeled by recipient soon.

MLE

Although I was in Portland and at the marketplace for Sock Summit, I feel like I didn’t really have a Sock Summit.  The Yarnery got word that it would be a vendor long after any hope of attending any classes or events was gone.  We spent lots of time in the marketplace, had fun, met lots of great people, (Knitting Linguist/ Jocelyn was just as I imagined, and I hope to meet again when we can sit and chat)  but other than spotting Barbara Walker having lunch with Lucy Neatby, it could have been any marketplace.

But not just anywhere.  The food in Portland is fabulous, so we stuffed our feelings about missing out on so much by stuffing our faces.  I cruised Chowhound for recommendations, but the locals we talked to had so many recommendations additional research wasn’t necessary.  My favorite meal?  The lunch Maura and I ran out to get on Saturday at the Farmers Market.  Fruit, cheese, bread and brownies.  The fruit was unlike any I have ever tasted.  Peaches, nectarines, berries galore, all at the absolute peak of perfection.  This picture says it all.

The best news — after all that togetherness, the Yarnery staff that went still had fun and still  like each other.  Well, I still like them, anyway.  My # 1 recommendation for solving the dilemmas of packing up huge amounts of stuff for shipping -  get yourself a North Dakota Farm Girl.  (Or two!)  Their awesome spatial skills and creative problem-solving knows no bounds.

Most cheerful booth non-shopper?  This man:

Wearing this tag:

MLE

I have been spending a great deal of time watching the Red Tailed Hawks.  We can spend hours sitting outside being amused by their antics.  Who knew hawks had such a long period of adolescence?  Here’s a picture.

It’s a pretty sorry excuse for nature photography, but there is hope!  Gale-She Shoots Sheep Shots of Shear Spirit,

Mason Dixon Knitting,

Red Scarf Project

etc, etc. is coming to my rescue.  And not mine alone.

Gale is going to be teaching two workshops on how to photograph your fiber and knits.  She’s going to be in town for family events and I begged her to offer a workshop for we photographically challenged fiber folk, and she agreed.  Specifics here on the Yarnery website.  I think it will be fun, and I hereby offer several of my sorrier pictures up for public  criticism!

Hope to see you there.

MLE

Check out this app -  I tried it out at TNNA and it worked beautifully. 

Now if only I could keep my Verizon service and have an iPhone, I think I’d do it.  My sibs and I are all on Verizon so I can blabber with my sisters all the time for no minutes and no long distance.

MLE

If I were a twitterer, here’s what my morning tweets would have looked like—I discovered lots of things:

6:45 am Pick up last night’s knitting work only to discover that that the two pieces that are supposed to be the same width are no where near the same. Rip out.

7:15, Having already gotten dressed to go to early meeting where I am expected to look professional, ready to leave the house, only to discover that the top I recently hand washed was still a bit ‘fragrant’ in one underarm. No time to change, which would require ironing. Get Febreeze out and squirt on underarm of blouse.

Hey, it really works. Maybe it will work on clothes right from the hamper, too.  It says “With hints of white floral, green freshness, and rich amber” Certainly better than what I was smelling.

7:25 Spill tea on pants getting into car with cup of tea. At least they are dark tan/taupe and the tea won’t stain.

7:30 Road closure on most direct route to highway.

8:00 Arrive at meeting only to discover that I had forgotten to RSVP.

8:05 Spill half my decaf coffee on the floor, a linoleum floor, anyway.

8:06 –Go to rest room to get paper towels to wipe up coffee, only to discover when I looked in the mirror that I was wearing two different earrings. Should I take one out and pretend I lost the other one? Left both in, no one will notice, anyway.

8:15 – Woman sitting next to me asks if I know I am wearing two different earrings. (Not at total stranger, anyway.) Knit thru dull presentation, only ripping a row or two.

9:30 Arrive back at my office only to discover that the meeting I thought I had next Tuesday was actually today, and they are waiting in the lobby. The receptionist tried to call me, but my phone was turned off. All this in the first few hours.

Sonia Sotomayor is really my kind of gal -  fractures her ankle on the way to her Supreme Court appointment hearing.  I bet she had on matching earrings, though.

Gale asked some good questions in her comment about the razor shell.  I’ll try to post answers and photos for that tomorrow, before I leave for TNNA on Thursday.

MLE

Some projects just seem to not want to be made.  The mysterious felting lace stole for my S-in-L is one of them.  After winding up my new (old) yarn and swatching for something simple that would require no blocking more complicated than a sweater, I went with the the  stitch pattern I used on my Openwork Rib Scarf.  I worked it at a tighter gauge, cast on more stitches and set off.  It looked beautiful, but about 10″ into it, I realized that it was consuming yarn at an alarming rate.  There is no chance to buy more of this yarn, since I don’t know what it is, and can’t remember where I got it.  I hemmed and hawed (and kept knitting) for a few days, then gave up and ripped it out while I was in a meeting.  This was in lieu of tearing my hair out, I think.  This meeting was so boring and dragged on for so long, and was so stupefying, I actually began  thinking that “Attachment A” would be a good name for a band.

Now what?  My usual go-to in a situation like this is the lace-stitch-that-never-lets-you-d0wn,  Feather and Fan.  That wasn’t an option, since the feather and fan baby blanket I made recently was for the daughter of the stole recipient, and I don’t want them to think that’s the only stitch I know. (Knitter’s vanity?)

I found inspiration over at She Shoots Sheep Shots, and started trying Razor Shell variations.  It’s a nice simple pattern, easily varied, and requires little blocking — all good things.  I began fooling around with decreases and decided that in the black yarn  it looks crisp and modern when you use a centered double decrease instead of the SlK2tog PSSO.

This is a swatch I use in my increases and decreases class that illustrates the difference, but in Print of the Hoof, rather than Razor Shell. Sorry about the color, but it is hard to see it in the black of the stole.  I tried holding it up somehow with the window behind it, as Ms. Raveller does, but not very successfully.  She either has hooks or help.

I cast on (again)  and set off (again. )  About 10″ in to the stole, (my magic number, I guess)  I realized I needed more garter stitch at the edges to prevent curling, and really needed one more repeat for the desired width.  Sigh.  The good news is that the yarn has held up well under repeated ripping, and therefore shouldn’t felt when she flings it over her shoulders on the way out the door. I’m at 16″ now, so the jinx must be broken.

Which makes me wonder -  did any of you say ‘jinx’ as a kid when you and a friend said something at the same time?  I did, but I don’t remember it meaning bad luck.  Except there might have been shoulder punching involved when you said ‘jinx’; I think that comes from having brothers.  Punches are frequently involved in many rituals involving brothers.

MLE

It was a beautiful weekend, Chris and her mates were drying newly dyed yarn.  I was drying newly washed (and oldly knitted) garments.  I like being able to do this out-of-doors, they seem really fresh that way when I fold them up and put them in the cedar chest.  Of course, I do remove those silver maple helicopters.

Red Tailed Hawk update -  I’ve seen the fledglings often now.  (I wish I had pictures.)  They pop their heads up over the edge of the nest, looking around.  Their beaks are tiny buttons on their faces.  They look for all the world like a doofy happy baby who has managed to pull himself up on the side of the crib, and stands there grinning and drooling.  The other day I saw one balancing on the edge of the nest, waving its wings around.  No, no, get back in the nest.  What would we do with a baby red tail in the yard-  how could we help it?  My nephew’s answer — ” Uncle Guy could shoot a squirrel and you could feed the baby with it.   They eat carrion.”  A pause, then acknowledging that this might not take place.  “Or, you could just trap some mice.”

Yeah.  I’ll be calling the Minnesota Raptor Center, rest assured.

MLE