It's been a while since I've posted an Ambitious To Do List. Time to bring it back, and increased productivity shall ensue!
- Laundry
- Vacuuming
- Clean fridge
- Groceries
- Mow lawn (weather dependent)
- Organize Dresser of Chaos
- Write up sweater pattern as knit; calculate pattern for various sizes; proof and edit; submit for publication. (Easy-peasy, right?)
- Plant second round of lettuces and spinach, also marigolds as a pest deterrent (please work! please work!)
- Job sitch: make it better
Annnnd.... GO!
Friday, July 31, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
Oh, that's right!
Aha! I've just reminded myself that I can, in fact, post knitting updates. Not all of my current projects are super-secret, will-someday-be-submitted-for-publication new designs. I'm also knitting Mary Weaver's pattern for the Mrs. Darcy Cardigan, in Rialto Aran merino wool by Debbie Bliss. This, I can show you (though it isn't very exciting).
All the waist shaping is accomplished with ribbing instead of decreases and increases, and I quite like the extra crispness of the twisted rib stitch. I'm also using the modifications detailed here by Wakenda Knits. After about a week, I've knit about half a sweater, so it should be done in time for the hottest days of the year. Sweet.
All the waist shaping is accomplished with ribbing instead of decreases and increases, and I quite like the extra crispness of the twisted rib stitch. I'm also using the modifications detailed here by Wakenda Knits. After about a week, I've knit about half a sweater, so it should be done in time for the hottest days of the year. Sweet.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Phoning it in? Yeah, maybe.
Once again, I notice it's been a while since I've broken up the text of my ramblingness with some photos. Because there's not a whole lot to tell you about today (guess what? baby string beans attached to plants with no remaining leaves don't turn into full-sized string beans. sigh.), today's post is heavy on the pictures (if you consider two "heavy," that is) and light on the narrative. Or relevance, really.
This one was taken at a recent festive gathering. There are some lovely shots from the day in which we're smiling normally and neither of us are blurry, but I like this one the most because it's how we operate more often than not. Hearty laughing pretty much every day. And, come to think of it, eating and flailing, respectively: that's pretty accurate as well.
Too perfect. The best part is that immediately following this expression, she likely found herself scurrying away from something terrifying. Like an ant. Photo credit: Mr. Metabolism.
Happy weekend, everyone!
This one was taken at a recent festive gathering. There are some lovely shots from the day in which we're smiling normally and neither of us are blurry, but I like this one the most because it's how we operate more often than not. Hearty laughing pretty much every day. And, come to think of it, eating and flailing, respectively: that's pretty accurate as well.
Too perfect. The best part is that immediately following this expression, she likely found herself scurrying away from something terrifying. Like an ant. Photo credit: Mr. Metabolism.
Happy weekend, everyone!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
A bit of a departure
Emphasis on "a bit," to be sure. This is a tiny, almost imperceptible departure. Insignificant, really. And yet, here it is, takin' up space on my blog.
I noticed the other day that I've knit a disproportionate amount of pieces in lavender. Can I get a collective "huh?" It isn't the worst color in the spectrum, but it doesn't strike me as particularly craftosaurus-esque. Even the most springtimey, Easter-loving, parasol-carrying lady strolling through an English garden doesn't need four lavender sweaters, and neither do I.
So, for a bit of a departure (from my subconscious color selection process, apparently), I've cast on for a new project in navy. Nothing I've made so far is navy. Oh so new and exciting.
The knitting of long-sleeved cardigans out of wool in the middle of the summer, though? That continues.
I noticed the other day that I've knit a disproportionate amount of pieces in lavender. Can I get a collective "huh?" It isn't the worst color in the spectrum, but it doesn't strike me as particularly craftosaurus-esque. Even the most springtimey, Easter-loving, parasol-carrying lady strolling through an English garden doesn't need four lavender sweaters, and neither do I.
So, for a bit of a departure (from my subconscious color selection process, apparently), I've cast on for a new project in navy. Nothing I've made so far is navy. Oh so new and exciting.
The knitting of long-sleeved cardigans out of wool in the middle of the summer, though? That continues.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Carnage
We've got a "Next Year's Garden" lesson in the making, folks. I think that's a clear sign that this topic should get bumped to the top of the posting queue.
[Note: what a cool word that is, "queue." I mean, really, how often do you get to use the "ueue" combination? "Banana" is notable for a similar repeated-letters reason, but the vowels really add that extra somethin' if you ask me.]
Ok. Where was I? Right, I was about to tell you what I found when I watered the vegetable garden today. I noticed the beet greens first. Most of them are still ok, but there's a smattering of red stalks blatantly missing their green leaves. Then I saw the kohlrabi, which had been lush and healthy to the point of shading its neighbors; about half of them are decimated. And the lettuce. Oh, the lettuce. The last head of looseleaf yet to use for salad had measured maybe 15" across yesterday. Today, well, I don't really want to talk about it (*sniff*).
I'm not -- and I shouldn't be -- surprised that some form of small, adorable, somewhat evil, furry creature has been using the garden as a buffet. We live next to the woods, basically (not really, but enough that it looks like The Woods are right next to the yard, and enough that I'm sure we're got plenty of furry creatures as neighbors). And I'm sure the garden is delicious for them. But they'd completely ignored it up until now (pea plants notwithstanding). Why now? Does a mid-July chow-down start date shed any light on why particular type of furry creature we're dealing with? Next year, we'll have to use some sort of strategy to keep this from happening at any point during the growing season and avoid the complacency that apparently was this year's downfall. Any suggestions?
As I insinuated, though, there are other lessons I've already gathered this year for use next spring. I've incorporated Thou Shall Use Tomato Cages Instead of Stakes from 2008 with great success, so if I can add some of the following into the mix as well, I'm hoping continued progress will abound.
1. When the maple tree drops its hordes and hordes of seed "helicopters," clear them right away. They are not just nature's confetti. Each and every one will germinate, on a staggered schedule, resulting in the plucking of miniature maple trees every single day.
2. Certain plants don't play well with others. They hog the sun and refuse to share. Namely, we're talking here about kohlrabi and beets, and we're really talking about string beans. They need lots more space. Surprisingly, cucumbers and melon do not. Their vines might trail out a ways, but that can be controlled and the actual dirt space needed is more modest than expected.
3. When the books tell you to plant leeks in trenches so you can cover their stalks with dirt as they grow, they mean trenches deeper than a few inches. Whoops.
4. Peas won't climb a post-style fence as they would a trellis. Seed packets insisting that a particular variety doesn't need to climb any sort of structure are lying. Buy some netting.
Any awesome strategies you've learned over the years through trial and error? (Bonus points for ideas pertaining to furry creatures with healthy appetites. :))
[Note: what a cool word that is, "queue." I mean, really, how often do you get to use the "ueue" combination? "Banana" is notable for a similar repeated-letters reason, but the vowels really add that extra somethin' if you ask me.]
Ok. Where was I? Right, I was about to tell you what I found when I watered the vegetable garden today. I noticed the beet greens first. Most of them are still ok, but there's a smattering of red stalks blatantly missing their green leaves. Then I saw the kohlrabi, which had been lush and healthy to the point of shading its neighbors; about half of them are decimated. And the lettuce. Oh, the lettuce. The last head of looseleaf yet to use for salad had measured maybe 15" across yesterday. Today, well, I don't really want to talk about it (*sniff*).
I'm not -- and I shouldn't be -- surprised that some form of small, adorable, somewhat evil, furry creature has been using the garden as a buffet. We live next to the woods, basically (not really, but enough that it looks like The Woods are right next to the yard, and enough that I'm sure we're got plenty of furry creatures as neighbors). And I'm sure the garden is delicious for them. But they'd completely ignored it up until now (pea plants notwithstanding). Why now? Does a mid-July chow-down start date shed any light on why particular type of furry creature we're dealing with? Next year, we'll have to use some sort of strategy to keep this from happening at any point during the growing season and avoid the complacency that apparently was this year's downfall. Any suggestions?
As I insinuated, though, there are other lessons I've already gathered this year for use next spring. I've incorporated Thou Shall Use Tomato Cages Instead of Stakes from 2008 with great success, so if I can add some of the following into the mix as well, I'm hoping continued progress will abound.
1. When the maple tree drops its hordes and hordes of seed "helicopters," clear them right away. They are not just nature's confetti. Each and every one will germinate, on a staggered schedule, resulting in the plucking of miniature maple trees every single day.
2. Certain plants don't play well with others. They hog the sun and refuse to share. Namely, we're talking here about kohlrabi and beets, and we're really talking about string beans. They need lots more space. Surprisingly, cucumbers and melon do not. Their vines might trail out a ways, but that can be controlled and the actual dirt space needed is more modest than expected.
3. When the books tell you to plant leeks in trenches so you can cover their stalks with dirt as they grow, they mean trenches deeper than a few inches. Whoops.
4. Peas won't climb a post-style fence as they would a trellis. Seed packets insisting that a particular variety doesn't need to climb any sort of structure are lying. Buy some netting.
Any awesome strategies you've learned over the years through trial and error? (Bonus points for ideas pertaining to furry creatures with healthy appetites. :))
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
< /radio silence >
Ok, so it really hasn't been an exceptionally long time since I've written, but it feels that way. Part of it might be that I've been thinking of particular topics I'd like to cover -- I was all geared up to write an examination of Sarah Palin's resignation comments, which now feels irrelevant thanks to the nature of the modern news cycle -- but life has gotten in the way.
By way of saying enough to acknowledge the situation at hand, but not so much as to violate the privacy of those around me, I'll simply say that there was a tragic, untimely death in the Awesome Fiance's family. The world lost a wonderfully open, joyous person. I'm sad for me, for everyone involved, and really I'm also sad for those who never had the good fortune to meet her.
Inching down the continuum of events from the difficult to the mundane, the Awesome Fiance went under the knife last week. Day surgery, with general anesthesia. He's fine, all of his internal organs are happy again, and he's impatient to be a fully functioning and productive member of the household, as I knew he would be.
I hope you'll understand, then, when I tell you you'll just have to wait for "Things I Must Remember When Planting Next Year's Garden," or "I've Been Knitting, Really I Have, But I Don't Have Pictures," or "The Cure For Running Ennui: Possible Looming Injury." Soon, my dears. Soon.
By way of saying enough to acknowledge the situation at hand, but not so much as to violate the privacy of those around me, I'll simply say that there was a tragic, untimely death in the Awesome Fiance's family. The world lost a wonderfully open, joyous person. I'm sad for me, for everyone involved, and really I'm also sad for those who never had the good fortune to meet her.
Inching down the continuum of events from the difficult to the mundane, the Awesome Fiance went under the knife last week. Day surgery, with general anesthesia. He's fine, all of his internal organs are happy again, and he's impatient to be a fully functioning and productive member of the household, as I knew he would be.
I hope you'll understand, then, when I tell you you'll just have to wait for "Things I Must Remember When Planting Next Year's Garden," or "I've Been Knitting, Really I Have, But I Don't Have Pictures," or "The Cure For Running Ennui: Possible Looming Injury." Soon, my dears. Soon.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Networking and Good Karma
I'm hoping for -- and indeed, have been getting -- some awesome networking help in spreading the word about the house I'm selling and the open house I'm holding for it this Sunday from 1:00 to 3:00 in the afternoon. (Information about the house here.)
In the hopes of gathering a little more good karma, and in appreciation for that which I've already received, I figured I'd let you fine folks know about some local small businesses who, I suspect, rely heavily on word of mouth recommendations.
If you're in need of a photographer, I'll direct you to the two final contenders Senor Wonderful and I found in our recent search (yes, we're taking the way-in-advance approach to wedding planning). Kate Baker and Clare Norton are both exceptionally talented, and lovely people to boot. They primarily photograph weddings, but I'm fairly certain they do family (and kiddo and pet) portraits as well.
If you don't need any fancy photos done but would like to be fancified all the same, check out KMS Jewelry Designs, offering quality, unique, handmade beauteousness.
For graphic design beauteousness, head on over to Brushfire Media. Logos and websites and production services, oh my!
In the hopes of gathering a little more good karma, and in appreciation for that which I've already received, I figured I'd let you fine folks know about some local small businesses who, I suspect, rely heavily on word of mouth recommendations.
If you're in need of a photographer, I'll direct you to the two final contenders Senor Wonderful and I found in our recent search (yes, we're taking the way-in-advance approach to wedding planning). Kate Baker and Clare Norton are both exceptionally talented, and lovely people to boot. They primarily photograph weddings, but I'm fairly certain they do family (and kiddo and pet) portraits as well.
If you don't need any fancy photos done but would like to be fancified all the same, check out KMS Jewelry Designs, offering quality, unique, handmade beauteousness.
For graphic design beauteousness, head on over to Brushfire Media. Logos and websites and production services, oh my!
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