First, let me say that I was so impressed with Joe Biden's speech last night. I'm sorry to say that I don't know as much about him as I should, but MAN, did he seem like a genuine, quality human being. While I ordinarily find personality to be less important, theoretically, than ideology in a politician, for a vice presidential nominee, I think one's perceived personality takes on greater significance. Also, if that's what (a lot of) voters are going to base their decisions on, so much the better that a man appearing to be of great intellectual substance is also going to be able, it seems, to tap into that "I have to vote for someone I can connect with" sentiment. [Which is not to say that I think the media's portrayal of Obama as suffering from connectivity problems is accurate... rather that a ticket with two, count 'em, TWO intelligent, genuine, likeable people is a good, good thing.]
Bottom line: when I was watching Biden, then Biden and Obama, I couldn't stop smiling. And I'm typically pretty unemotional about politics.
But for crying out loud, do the powers that be need to schedule the big speeches for 10:30 at night? I am old, apparently, and can't handle a week's worth of this up-past-ten nonsense. I know, I could probably find the footage after the fact via the interwebs, but it just isn't the same.
Must go and forage for some caffeine...
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
What the frock?
It's a newly finished Frock Camisole!
What's that, you say? You think I may have modified the pattern a little? Well, that goes without saying, doesn't it. :) I cast on fewer stitches than were called for along the bottom because I didn't want a loose-fitting tent-errific type top. By the time I'd done some waist shaping, I made sure to end up with the required number of stitches at the armholes. I also used seed stitch instead of reverse stockinette in the top section, because seed stitch doesn't roll at the edges. I made the straps 12 stitches wide, rather than 8, as well.
I need to re-knit part of the top of the back (sigh), but other than that, I'm verreh verreh pleased. Annnd, I finished it quickly enough to still be weather-appropriate. Hooray!
What's that, you say? You think I may have modified the pattern a little? Well, that goes without saying, doesn't it. :) I cast on fewer stitches than were called for along the bottom because I didn't want a loose-fitting tent-errific type top. By the time I'd done some waist shaping, I made sure to end up with the required number of stitches at the armholes. I also used seed stitch instead of reverse stockinette in the top section, because seed stitch doesn't roll at the edges. I made the straps 12 stitches wide, rather than 8, as well.
I need to re-knit part of the top of the back (sigh), but other than that, I'm verreh verreh pleased. Annnd, I finished it quickly enough to still be weather-appropriate. Hooray!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Gettin' back to my roots...
Once upon a time, I used to blog about knitting, didn't I? The garden and the baking and the general life commentary are all well and good, but I'm a knit blogger in my heart of hearts.
I currently have two projects going, but they're both new designs, so I'm keeping them supah-secret in case I'm sufficiently pleased with them to write up patterns and submit them for publication. I think I may need to cast on for a third project, if only to have something knitting-related to post about consistently.
Oh, right, and the Frock Camisole is technically finished. I say "technically" because it doesn't fit *quite* right, and I'm trying to decide whether that would be fixed by adding a few rows to the straps, or blocking, or neither. You might end up with yet another garment-on-hanger picture in the interim (or if I fail at all my readjustment attempts).
Anyway, so a new project is in order. I have 400 grams (a rough estimate) of fingering weight wool to use up, and I'm contemplating (a) to what extent that limits the type of garment I can knit before running out of yarn, and (b) whether I should knit something designed to be layered over something else, to keep itchiness to a minimum. Pattern suggestions are welcome!
I currently have two projects going, but they're both new designs, so I'm keeping them supah-secret in case I'm sufficiently pleased with them to write up patterns and submit them for publication. I think I may need to cast on for a third project, if only to have something knitting-related to post about consistently.
Oh, right, and the Frock Camisole is technically finished. I say "technically" because it doesn't fit *quite* right, and I'm trying to decide whether that would be fixed by adding a few rows to the straps, or blocking, or neither. You might end up with yet another garment-on-hanger picture in the interim (or if I fail at all my readjustment attempts).
Anyway, so a new project is in order. I have 400 grams (a rough estimate) of fingering weight wool to use up, and I'm contemplating (a) to what extent that limits the type of garment I can knit before running out of yarn, and (b) whether I should knit something designed to be layered over something else, to keep itchiness to a minimum. Pattern suggestions are welcome!
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Borscht Cake
... So named because there are beets in the batter and sour cream in the frosting. Yes, I know there are other things in borscht, and that two similarities do not a clever recipe name make, necessarily, but I figured I'd go for it.
Anyway, if you haven't gathered, I did in fact turn the beets from my garden into chocolate cake! And it was really quite good. I read a couple of recipes for research purposes, and, as is my wont, used them as inspiration but veered off in my own direction.
So, without further ado, the recipe for Borscht Cake:
3 medium sized beets
1 splash vanilla extract
1.25 c sugar
1 scant c vegetable oil (by which I mean, a cup minus a tablespoon or so)
3 eggs
1 c all purpose flour
.75 c whole wheat flour
.25 tsp salt
1.5 tsp baking soda
6 tbsp cocoa powder
Preheat oven to 350 degrees (fahrenheit). If you want bonus points, go ahead and grease a 9 x 13 baking pan. I didn't, and it was fine (although I didn't take the cake out of the pan and decorate it for show).
Boil the beets until fork-tender. Drain and cool, then remove the peels and coarsely chop. Mash in a large bowl. The large bowl is key, both for addition of subsequent ingredients, and because the sides of the bowl will shield you from at least some of the spattering purple beet juice.
Add to the mashed beets the vanilla, sugar, oil, and eggs. Mix until well blended (I used an electric mixer on the highest setting, so as to get some extra air in that sucker and counteract what I feared would be the Whole Wheat Density Effect, but stirring with a spoon would probably work, too.)
In a separate bowl (I know! I never make anything that involves a "separate bowl!") combine the flours, salt, baking soda, and cocoa powder. Add this to the beet mixture gradually, whilst continuing to mix (or stir, as the case may be).
Pour the batter into the pan and bake for 25 to 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, for the frosting, use the mixer (yes, it's probably a requirement here) to whip together the following:
8 oz. neufchatel (reduced fat cream cheese)
.75 c sour cream
.5 c confectioner's sugar
Frost the cake once it's cooled.
It may be my child-of-two-lapsed-Catholics guilt talking here, but I feel compelled to apologize for frosting the cake without removing it from the pan. This was NEVER, EVER done in my house when I was a kid. EVER. Without fail, every single cake for every single birthday/holiday/observence in my house was (1) made from a box, and (2) painstakingly decorated with homemade frosting. We're talking rosette flowers at a minimum, people. One year, the Crafto-Mom made an Easter basket cake, complete with frosting made to look basketwoven, and a handle. Oh yes. So, even though this Borscht Cake wasn't served to anyone else but yours truly, I feel as though I've brought shame upon my family by taking the shortcut here and - *gasp* - frosting the cake without removing it from the pan!
But I digress. It was deeeee-lish.
Anyway, if you haven't gathered, I did in fact turn the beets from my garden into chocolate cake! And it was really quite good. I read a couple of recipes for research purposes, and, as is my wont, used them as inspiration but veered off in my own direction.
So, without further ado, the recipe for Borscht Cake:
3 medium sized beets
1 splash vanilla extract
1.25 c sugar
1 scant c vegetable oil (by which I mean, a cup minus a tablespoon or so)
3 eggs
1 c all purpose flour
.75 c whole wheat flour
.25 tsp salt
1.5 tsp baking soda
6 tbsp cocoa powder
Preheat oven to 350 degrees (fahrenheit). If you want bonus points, go ahead and grease a 9 x 13 baking pan. I didn't, and it was fine (although I didn't take the cake out of the pan and decorate it for show).
Boil the beets until fork-tender. Drain and cool, then remove the peels and coarsely chop. Mash in a large bowl. The large bowl is key, both for addition of subsequent ingredients, and because the sides of the bowl will shield you from at least some of the spattering purple beet juice. Add to the mashed beets the vanilla, sugar, oil, and eggs. Mix until well blended (I used an electric mixer on the highest setting, so as to get some extra air in that sucker and counteract what I feared would be the Whole Wheat Density Effect, but stirring with a spoon would probably work, too.)
In a separate bowl (I know! I never make anything that involves a "separate bowl!") combine the flours, salt, baking soda, and cocoa powder. Add this to the beet mixture gradually, whilst continuing to mix (or stir, as the case may be).
Pour the batter into the pan and bake for 25 to 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, for the frosting, use the mixer (yes, it's probably a requirement here) to whip together the following:
8 oz. neufchatel (reduced fat cream cheese)
.75 c sour cream
.5 c confectioner's sugar
Frost the cake once it's cooled.
It may be my child-of-two-lapsed-Catholics guilt talking here, but I feel compelled to apologize for frosting the cake without removing it from the pan. This was NEVER, EVER done in my house when I was a kid. EVER. Without fail, every single cake for every single birthday/holiday/observence in my house was (1) made from a box, and (2) painstakingly decorated with homemade frosting. We're talking rosette flowers at a minimum, people. One year, the Crafto-Mom made an Easter basket cake, complete with frosting made to look basketwoven, and a handle. Oh yes. So, even though this Borscht Cake wasn't served to anyone else but yours truly, I feel as though I've brought shame upon my family by taking the shortcut here and - *gasp* - frosting the cake without removing it from the pan! But I digress. It was deeeee-lish.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Harvest
Today's (very small) harvest:
It's the first ripened tomato of 2008! All of the others are uniformly green still, so it's kinda weird that this one took off all on its own. Oh, that zany unpredictableness of nature.
There are beets in the ground that I'm planning to turn into chocolate cake over the weekend, and a few cucumbers that, based on their shape, are about ninety percent seeds.
It's the first ripened tomato of 2008! All of the others are uniformly green still, so it's kinda weird that this one took off all on its own. Oh, that zany unpredictableness of nature.
There are beets in the ground that I'm planning to turn into chocolate cake over the weekend, and a few cucumbers that, based on their shape, are about ninety percent seeds.
Insignificant randomness
I remember hearing somewhere a while back that, from an evolutionary biology standpoint, there's a reason why little things are cute. Something about how kittens and puppies and foals and baby humans are designed to trigger an "awww" reaction (and/or our brains are designed to react in that way), in large part so that the baby whatever-it-is will be more likely to be taken care of. (Forgive my ineloquence here; I'm a little tentative when the subject at hand involves science.)
Anyway, so there's some sort of underlying reason why small living things are so cute. That makes sense to me. What baffles me, though, is why this would translate to inanimate objects. Yes, I have a specific example in mind: teeny tiny binder clips! You know, binder clips, the black plastic things that hold packets of papers too big for staples or paper clips, with the metal pieces that you flip to the sides and use to open the black plastic part, like a mandible* hinge. You know what I'm talking about, right? They're usually maybe an inch wide or so; sometimes you'll also see larger binder clips on really big stacks of paper... but apparently, they also come in itty-bitty, teeny-tiny size. Maybe a centimeter wide, or only slightly more than that. And they're so! darn! cute!
Obviously, there's no biological reason for this - I mean, it isn't as though there's an evolutionary need for wee binder clips to be taken care of so they can continue to thrive and eventually grow up to be big, strong binder clips. Is the small-things-are-cute notion so fundamentally hard-wired in our collective psyches (um, or just mine?) that it's transferred over from living creatures to pieces of metal and plastic? What gives?
See, I wasn't kidding with that post title up there! Very random, and entirely insignificant.
*I should note, also, that I am incapable of seeing a bunch of snapdragon flowers without pinching one by the sides and making it "talk." [Oddly, they never sound like you'd think a dragon would (that is, "roarrrr," or the like), but usually more along the lines of "mawh mawh mawh mawh"...] So maybe the thing with the binder clips is less about inanimate objects that are very tiny, and more about inanimate objects that can look like they're talking... hmm...
Anyway, so there's some sort of underlying reason why small living things are so cute. That makes sense to me. What baffles me, though, is why this would translate to inanimate objects. Yes, I have a specific example in mind: teeny tiny binder clips! You know, binder clips, the black plastic things that hold packets of papers too big for staples or paper clips, with the metal pieces that you flip to the sides and use to open the black plastic part, like a mandible* hinge. You know what I'm talking about, right? They're usually maybe an inch wide or so; sometimes you'll also see larger binder clips on really big stacks of paper... but apparently, they also come in itty-bitty, teeny-tiny size. Maybe a centimeter wide, or only slightly more than that. And they're so! darn! cute!
Obviously, there's no biological reason for this - I mean, it isn't as though there's an evolutionary need for wee binder clips to be taken care of so they can continue to thrive and eventually grow up to be big, strong binder clips. Is the small-things-are-cute notion so fundamentally hard-wired in our collective psyches (um, or just mine?) that it's transferred over from living creatures to pieces of metal and plastic? What gives?
See, I wasn't kidding with that post title up there! Very random, and entirely insignificant.
*I should note, also, that I am incapable of seeing a bunch of snapdragon flowers without pinching one by the sides and making it "talk." [Oddly, they never sound like you'd think a dragon would (that is, "roarrrr," or the like), but usually more along the lines of "mawh mawh mawh mawh"...] So maybe the thing with the binder clips is less about inanimate objects that are very tiny, and more about inanimate objects that can look like they're talking... hmm...
Monday, August 4, 2008
Anti-rant
Enough of the ranting, I say! Here's a list of more positive recent events (where "events" is a term to be used loosely). Negative aspects omitted for the sake of optimism.
- Cell phone magically healed itself.
- One of the tomatoes in the garden is starting to transition from green to orangey-red...
- Three cucumbers have presented themselves so far, and there are plenty of yellow flowers still on the vines.
- The canteloupe plant looks like it has four or five tiny canteloupes, though I've no idea how many of them I can expect to be successful.
- Made some progress on the Frock Camisole, and am nearly to the arm hole shaping. Expect to have it wrapped up by the end of the week, depending on how my schedule pans out.
- Started reading a novel. Reading! A novel! For fun! I very nearly couldn't remember what that was like...
- Running is becoming a habit again; the tide is turning back to "exhilerating" from "dread-inducing and painful."
- Have got plans lined up for super-fun dancing over the weekend. Woot!
- Cell phone magically healed itself.
- One of the tomatoes in the garden is starting to transition from green to orangey-red...
- Three cucumbers have presented themselves so far, and there are plenty of yellow flowers still on the vines.
- The canteloupe plant looks like it has four or five tiny canteloupes, though I've no idea how many of them I can expect to be successful.
- Made some progress on the Frock Camisole, and am nearly to the arm hole shaping. Expect to have it wrapped up by the end of the week, depending on how my schedule pans out.
- Started reading a novel. Reading! A novel! For fun! I very nearly couldn't remember what that was like...
- Running is becoming a habit again; the tide is turning back to "exhilerating" from "dread-inducing and painful."
- Have got plans lined up for super-fun dancing over the weekend. Woot!
Friday, August 1, 2008
Smaller scale rant
My cell phone appears to be broken. Which is to say, regardless of whether it's easily fixable, it ain't workin' right now. When I push the power button, it sputters and makes several valiant attempts, but ultimately gives up. In the past when the phone's been wonky, I've seen it brought back to its former glory through removal and replacement of the battery, so I figured that's what I'd try. Well, I would if I could get the battery cover off, anyway. I've even gone to the Verizon/Motorola website to make sure the battery-cover-removal button is what I think it is. Yup. The battery cover just happens to be permanently fused to the rest of the phone, is all. [Note: this, clearly, is not true, as I've seen others remove the battery cover in the past, as I said above.] Suffice it to say, I can't get the *&!# cover off my phone to try and reset it. At the very least, I'll be without phonage through the end of the work day. Not a huge deal, but annoying. And it goes without saying that a trip to the Verizon store was NOT on the list of Things I Want To Use My Precious Weekend Hours For. (I know, preposition at the end of the sentence. Don't care right now.)
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