mamacate

Merry Yuletide!

Merry Yuletide to all!  Today is the darkest day of the year, but there is bright sunshine glinting off sparkling snow outside my window.  It is appropriately cold for this day when we are least warmed by the sun; the window thermometer said 8F this morning (that's -13C), and this was at almost 9 a.m.

Before kids, I used to have a party every Yule, where friends would gather for dinner and drink, and everyone would bring a candle.  We would cast a circle, then each person would state her intention to bring light back to one part of their lives, and would light her candle, each of us holding that intention with her.  People could explain their situation in as much or as little detail as they wanted.  We would invite people from different parts of our lives, and sometimes this would be the only time guests saw each other each year.  It was a precious ritual to me, and one that I miss.  With toddlers, it's hard to have a grownup party.  In a few years they can participate, and we can find a way to make it kid-friendly, but now it would just be chaotic, so it has slipped off our calendar.  It's also just hard when you have to work on the day of the holiday, with all the Christmas craziness going on all around.  This year we're doing even worse than last; I'm sick, Rhys is in New Jersey working, the house is a mess, and dinner will be leftovers.  But still I will light a solitary candle tonight and dream the dark lightened.

Since I don't have my warm, home candlelit circle, I'll cast my intention here.  Please use the comments to cast your own intention.

As the light returns, may it bring with it confidence and clarity for my work in the world, and may I find my worth in every moment of mothering, even the ones where I am not my hopeful vision of myself as a parent, where I fall down and make mistakes.  May the coming light remind me that I bring something of perfect worth and value to the world.  May I find a path that feeds my soul and my family, and may I come closer to the ever-elusive balanced life I seek.

By the will of all, and may it harm none, so mote it be.

What darkness will you ask the coming sun to light?

Photo courtesy of Feebleminds Free Animated Gifs

Blessed be...

Matriculation, or what the hell I am going to do with my life

It's official.  I have signed up for Webs' Master Knitter Program.  I've been going to the knitting drop-in just to have some free social knitting time outside of the house, and through that I met Jill, the person who designed the curriculum.  The web site doesn't have the full description of the program; Jill has a handout with detailed information about the required courses, final project, etc.  I'm really excited about it. 

The program is an in-depth survey of knitting traditions and techniques.  You take a series of classes, including classes in folk and ethnic knitting, stitches, finishing, color theory, and design.   Master Knitter students are expected to complete projects associated with certain of these classes.  You must develop beginner-level competence in two other fiber arts (I already have spinning, which qualifies, and now I have an excuse to learn to weave, although I admit to being able to crochet inexpertly).  Then you design and complete a final project, under Jill's supervision, which can be anything from developing a commercial sweater pattern to a teaching curriculum.  The whole thing takes 3 years minimum; I will probably do it in more like 5.  The classes are just one weekend day per month, so it's not onerous in that way, but I really like the approach--tradition, history, technique, and a capstone project.  I feel like this program will give me the tools to develop true mastery in the craft.  And I'm excited about having courses that build on each other and a person to work with on an independent project.  I could use a knitting mentor.

I think I mentioned before that I was way more excited about doing a master knitting program than I was about getting a doctorate in education.  For some reason, signing up for this master knitter program, even though it's just weekend fun with my non-income-producing hobby, is triggering all my stuff about my career and my life path and blah-be-de-blah.  So, after talking to some folks in the Ed.D. program, I realize that it's not realistic to do it while doing consulting and taking care of preschoolers.  It's really a full-time gig, and I'm just not able to do full-time plus everything else.  Not possible right now.  I need to wait until there is a little more room in my life, whether it's more independence for the kids or more financial room for me to become a full-time gradual student making a cool 4 figures.  And you know, who knows whether I'll find a new, more exciting path before that time comes.

Sometimes life feels very short.  You know?  I just feel like I have a million things I want to do, and then I also feel like crawling into bed and knitting and snuggling with the kids and hoping someone else will pay my mortgage.  I feel so incredibly lucky to have so many choices as to how I want to live my life.  But it's daunting to make those choices and know you're doing the right thing.  I once read somewhere that 90% of the things people regret are things they didn't do that they wish they had done.  Only a small proportion of the time are regrets about doing something wrong.  It's inaction, not action, that we  lament.

This is true for me at the ripe old age of 35 (how can I simultaneously feel young and like my career is slipping by?).  When I was a teenager, I wanted to be a fiber artist.  I adored fiber as a teen, and dreamed of becoming a weaver, a batik artist, a dyer.  I took classes at Parson's School of Design through my NYC high school, but I had no art or design training, and I got intimidated and decided I wasn't talented enough.  There was this school in Tennessee that I thought used to be called Tennessee Technical Community College of Arts and Crafts*.  It was a public community college with residential programs in weaving, ceramics, glassblowing, and woodworking, if I remember correctly.  I wrote to them for their viewbook and pored over it, fantasizing about going there for a two-year associate's degree in Craft.  My parents thought it was a nutty idea, and I wound up following a different path.  I took some art classes at my liberal arts college, did photography for a while (including a short stint as a professional "stringer" for a local newspaper), and then dropped it.  Perhaps I wasn't talented enough.  I am not one of those people who is just naturally artistic.  I can't draw my way out of a paper bag; the person who tried to teach me Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain even got exasperated with me.  When I made the mistake of taking Color Theory with a graphic artist at Parsons I thought I was going to stab myself with my x-acto knife because I could not seem to cut a straight line.  But there's something about fiber that has always made my heart sing.

In many ways, I'm glad I followed the path I did.  I have a career, marketing research, that I like, even if it doesn't feed my soul like craft might.  I have a level of financial security that makes it possible for me to indulge these passions and consider other paths without jeopardizing my family's future.  I choose my future path with a soft cushion of a master's degree and more than 10 years of expertise under my belt.  These things are all worthy of enormous gratitude.

I don't think I will ever make a living as an artist or crafter, though I suppose I shouldn't rule anything out.  But I feel like I'm at a place in my life where I want to integrate my creativity more with my professional life.  Right now I'm hoping to do marketing research in the fiber industry, working for yarn companies, doing focus groups and surveys of knitters and weavers.  Maybe I'll end up listening to people talk about which kind of acrylic yarn they like best, but heck, it's still in the world I want to inhabit.  I'm qualified to do this work anyway; why not do it in a field I love, and one that I know intimately?  Why not?

So, can you tell me why I'm so freaking scared?  No, don't bother, I know the reason.  It's because this is the right thing, this, for once, is what I really want, this is something that pulls together my professional and my personal selves, and what if, what if, what if....I fail?  That's the hard part about getting your heart into the game.  It's breakable.

*I'm so glad I blogged about this.  I have looked for this place online many times in the last year or so, and was beginning to think I had dreamed it.  It is now a part of another school, but they still exist.  I am going to play at this website and fantasize about reliving my dream.  Last time I checked, though Tennessee was a pretty red state, wasn't it.  Maybe not the place to bring my alternative family so I can pursue a pipe dream, huh?

Still Under Construction

Well, I don't know what I was thinking changing my blog right before Yule.  I am already running around like a chicken with its head cut off.  So my domain forwarding isn't working.  I used Yahoo to register my domain for the high price of $4.95 per year, LOL, but I guess you get what you pay for.  I will give major props to TypePad's support--they have been really helpful and responsive in making sure that everything is a-OK on their end, which I am confident that it is, and have even helped me troubleshoot my settings on Yahoo.  Thanks Kristine!  I have had a few suggestions to just get hosting and use MT or Wordpress, which I  may eventually do, but for now, the handholding from Kristine is worth my monthly fee.  I'm a wimp!  I admit it!

Anyway, mamacate.com is not yet working.  So I'm in limbo.  I did get a response from Yahoo domains support, so hopefully I have a chance of getting this resolved.   Because, you know, $4.95 per year is actually not a great price for, um, nothing.

In Yule knitting news, I have made a decision.  I am stepping out.  It's official.  I am putting aside the evil novelty scarves of doom and am making these mittens,  courtesy of Kate Gilbert, illustrious author of the famous Clapotis.  Froggy pointed me in the right direction for this super-quick knit, and I am a much happier mama for it.  I will finish those evil scarves (if it kills me, which it just might), but not for another month or so.  My kids are moving to the preschool classroom in the end of January, so that will be another gift-giving occasion.  I can't just throw them away, because the kids have already assigned them to the teachers.  Eleanor even put the half-knitted pink one on (dropping the needle out in the process and losing a row or two) yesterday.  So my fate is sealed: I will knit those things.  Just not for next week.  Phew.  I've already made one pair of mittens, in purple Brown Sheep Bulky.  I'm doing about one per relaxed night of knitting.  Works for me.

I'll be heading to Webs tonight for the knitting drop in (probably with two *other* daycare teachers, who are learning to knit), and I'll pick up a couple more skeins of bulky yarn there.  I have a lot of stash, but not much that would work for these.  I think mittens will be great for daycare teachers who spend a lot of time out in the playground, anyway.  That's the plan.  Happy almost Yule, everybody!  The sun is almost ready to begin its return.  CAN'T WAIT!

Edited to correct my typo in the title.  Pretty funny.  Contstruction.  Yeah, in other words, definitely not right yet.  Sheesh.

The Frenzied Gift Knitting Continues

It has been a few years (I took a knitting hiatus during the first two years of my kids lives since I was latched on to a nursing baby, oh, 23 hours a day), but now I remember the insanity that is Yule knitting.  I really admire the people who are smart enough to say NO to this insanity.  I think, oh, I'm so cool, I'm going to give handmade gifts and it's going to be great, blahblahblah, and then it's mid-December and I hate everything and I have to keep going on it anyway.  Actually, that last part is probably good since it means I won't end up with a closet full of UFOs.

In my least-loved category are the three novelty yarn scarves I am making for my kids' daycare teachers.  I'm really glad I'm making them something by hand--they're an important part of our lives--but what was I thinking with the stupid novelty yarn.  It's just miserable to knit.  When I saw one of these on some web page or other, I thought, oh, one ball, that will be quick and cute and fun to make.  Yeah, exactly except for the quick and fun to make part.  I do still think they're cute, especially for the three teachers who are relatively young (well, one is my age but more fashionable than I am; and honestly one of the others is really  more of a noro type but the sparkly thing will work for her for going out).  Anyway, ready to be done with these.  And not even halfway there, I might add.  Oh, someone put me out of my misery.

The Lopi sweater has been on the backburner for the most part lately, as I thought we wouldn't see the recipient until after Christmas, giving me a few days up at Nana's with other people to entertain the kids so I could feverishly finish it, not to mention the voyage over the river and through the woods (est. time, 4 hours) it takes to get there.  But alas, recipient is joining us before Christmas.  So I'd better be working on the yoke in the car, not the sleeves, dude.  Still, not terribly worried.  I'm almost ready to start the sleeves.  The yoke should actually be fun, too, and I need some fun knitting.  I'm getting a teeny bit bored here.  I'm going to put in short rows across the back and shoulders as recommended for yoke sweaters by Priscilla Gibson-Roberts in Knitting in the Old Way.  I've noticed that yoke-style  sweaters sometimes bind when you try to lift your arms up.  Since this is for a carpenter and the idea is that he can wear it to work in the winter, I figure this will be an important thing.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Today is mamarhys' birthday (happy birthday, mama!).  She received the multidirectional diagonal scarf as a gift (I actually gave her most of her gifts, scrapbooking supplies, on my birthday, as did her mom--long story, don't ask).  She loved it.  Definitely the right kind of response from a spouse who has just received a handknitted object.  I have to say, I kind of love it too.  I like the way it looks and I love the pattern.  I might need one myself, though after reading this (props to Jenifer for pointing the way to utter brilliance), I think I need to make Clapotis first.  But no, no new projects for me.  Must. Finish. Stupid. Novelty. Scarves.

Okay, technically, it's still Yule knitting, but I did kinda cast on for one more project.  I'm making a hat to go with the MDS.  Here it is so far.

This is going to be a mitered "diamond" hat, from Knitter's Summer 2001.  Boy, I thought it would be a cinch to find a photo of it online, but the Knitter's site is amazingly disorganized, and I think after 5 minutes of searching I am sure that not only are back issues not available (thankfully I am all set there), but they do NOT have photos of it online either.  So you'll just have to wait until I finish it.  For the moment, it's still a surprise, but I'm not sure I'll have time to finish it if I don't fess up and work on it in her presence.  Now this is a fun one.  Spoils me for the misery knitting.

In the midst of all this, I did spin up a couple of samples for Rogue.  I'm having slightly second thoughts, worrying that my handspun's "character" will detract from the clean and elegant look of Rogue.  My second sample came out pretty nice, though, so it might just work.  I think I'll work a small cable (maybe the sleeve edge) in the swatch with that second sample and see how we do.  Then the challenge will be to spin 1200 meters of it at the same size.   Well, 2400 and then ply them.  Should be interesting, huh.  But nothing interesting until after Xmas, damn it!

Back to the salt mines.  Actually, Rhys is in bed, so I can work on her hat without (much) guilt for neglecting the evil scarves of doom.

Thanks for stopping by my new digs!

Hello and welcome to my new home on the web!

I know, it needs some decorating.  As I mentioned before, I really need Queer Eye for the Lesbians, both in my house and on the web.  I'm working on it.

So, I'm not exactly madly in love with Typepad, though I'm happy I made the move for the simple fact that now I can EMAIL PEOPLE WHO COMMENT without consulting a medium to try and find out who they are and what their email address is.  Even the people who go to the (considerable) trouble to set up a blogger profile are often hard to find.  So now, boom, you comment, I get an email and (get this) press REPLY if I want to email you back.  Try it!

On the other hand, I'm a bit bamboozled trying to put my handy-dandy, nicely categorized bloglines-powered blogroll in my sidebar.  Anyone who can point me to a groovy site providing help with this topic (bloglines and typepad help so far have been less than helpful, though I have stopped short of emailing typepad--I did send in a ticket during the import process by mistake and wow, what a fast and friendly reply!).

Anyway, don't update anything yet.  I've just registered http://www.mamacate.com, just in case I decide that I don't want to keep paying for this typepad dealy.  That way, next time I move, I'll just take you with me, no fuss, no muss (I hope...).  The whole DNS registration linking blah-be-de-blah thing will take a few days (esp. since it's Friday), so I figure next week.  When I get the whole thing squared away I'll email people I know are linking to me.  Hopefully people will be willing to track me down.

Thanks for bearing with the aches and pains of moving.  I promise I'll be baking cookies again in no time.  If I could just find that whisk....

Tell us about those "moral values," will ya?

We're back to more red-state cognitive dissonance, but this time it's me who can't seem to parse the difference between what they say and what they do.

It started when I heard from a friend of a friend that an old mutual acquaintance whom I knew had voted for Bush, is a "swinger," along with his wife. The have three kids and live in the suburbs. In a red state, of course.

At first I said, "oh, wow, they're poly!" But upon hearing more from my friend, no, they're not poly. They're swingers. They go to sex parties and hook up.

That's cool, whatever. I mean, they've been doing this for long enough that it doesn't seem to have affected their relationship. According to my friend, they are happy, and that's great. I'm happy for them. Everyone is consenting, they're all adults, and they're enjoying themselves. Bravo, I say. Have fun.

But then, to vote for someone who opposes gay marriage, I mean, what the fuck? In a way, the two have nothing to do with each other from my perspective. If we weren't the same sex, we would be the most boring, run-of-the-mill couple you'd ever meet. We have been monogamous for over 12 years. Our lives revolve around our kids, our jobs, our home, and our community. We do exciting things like knit and scrapbook. Sex parties are not even on our radar screen. Just. Can't. Imagine.

But it seems that the red states think that I am a threat to the moral fabric of our nation. Not exactly sure what that's all about--I guess I figured they thought we were having kinky sex all over the place (let us pause for a moment to laugh cynically--um, ever lived in a house with twin toddlers?). But shit, apparently they're having kinky sex all over the place in those red states, and here I am trying to figure out how to get dinner on the table and worrying about transitioning to preschool and....um, this is where my brain just loses traction and starts to spin out, you know? And it's not just my old acquaintance who is doing this. There's a whole club he belongs to in his red state suburb. How many of them do you think voted for Bush? And, um, uh, what the fuck, huh?

So you know, I'm not coming out against swingers. Like I said, have fun, consensual adults, safe sex, all that. No problemo. But uh, could you please not vote for people who have pledged to take basic civil rights away from homosexual Ward & June Cleaver?

So dude, if I'm going to be maligned and vilified for my "lifestyle" (because it is very, very, stylish--in an Erma Bombeck kind of a way), I think I really need to make my lifestyle a little more interesting. Being an upstanding, responsible, tax-paying, faithful, monogamous, church-going (ok, UU, but it still counts!), community-minded citizen hasn't done shit for my image. I'm pretty much a pervert, as far as red America goes. And I though that they just had a really low threshold for perversion, and while I thought they were very wrong and didn't understand, it turns out that they've got "lifestyles" of their own and are busy doing stuff that I don't think is perverted, but hey, you can't deny that it's a little kinky. But what exactly does a girl do with that kind of information? And this may be really sad to say, but I don't WANT to start a suburban sex club here in my blue state. I'd rather go to knitting night. I am telling the gods' honest truth. How sad is that?

In a much more depressing piece of red-state hypocrisy, see what Republic of T just posted about a little more red-state morality:

http://www.republicoft.com/index.php/archives/2004/12/07/red-morals-ws-america/

Sigh. If someone can explain this to me, I'd be grateful. Thanks.

Knitting Presents

I am now wearing a wrist brace. Too. Much. Knitting. As if there was such a thing. It's mostly a matter of prevention, but things were getting a little wonky there, and I know wrist injury is not something I want to mess with.

The multidirectional diagonal scarf is *almost* done. I think I will abandon the plan to do a mitered square hat, at least on a deadline basis. I may be struck with insanity, give the scarf for birthday (Sat.) and then make the hat an Xmas deal. Yeah, that's crazy. I'll probably do it.

I am also making THREE scarves with miserable novelty yarn for my kids' 3 daycare teachers. I think they'll like them but oh lordy, give me wool!

The Lopi sweater is coming along around the edges, but I'm procrastinating it to the last minute because I know I can work on it in the car up to NH where we're celebrating Xmas, and I don't think I'll see the recipient until Xmas night or even the day after. So I have TONS of time on that, and the scarves are going to be gifted the week before so back to the nylon ladder nightmare I go. Hey, the colors are pretty, at least.

Meanwhile, the voice of reason sounds from across the pond.

How to avoid a designer tea cosy

Props to Mary-Helen for the link.

Memo to the Nearly-Three-Year-Olds

I know you are getting bigger, and that like any normal children of your age, now is the time for you to become more focused and deliberate about your boundary testing. A year ago, you careened from one activity to another, pausing occasionally to see if I was paying attention and would tell you not to do some dangerous thing, but mostly you were simply bent on destruction exploration, and your limit-testing was more incidental?a by-product of your curiosity and exuberance.

But now, you are studying. Carefully probing the places where you sense any sign of weakness, whether it be the rare (yeah, right, I try, okay) inconsistent response, or the thing that makes me growl "NO" through gritted teeth. In short, you are checking out how best to piss me off.

I thought maybe we could all save ourselves some time. I will provide you with a list of things that piss me off. That way, you won?t have to check Every. Fucking. Day. to see if they still piss me off. In future, you can refer to this memo. I promise that if one of these things ceases to piss me off, I will update the memo to reflect my new attitude. I?m not expecting to do a lot of editing.

So here we go.

1. Putting your feet on my body, face, arms, etc. while nursing. What IS this???? And you BOTH do this bizarre behavior incessantly, even though you know that after 3 warnings the milky session is OVER. We?ve talked about touching with hands. We?ve talked about respecting mama?s body. But somehow, the feeling of feet (bare, socks, shoes, even rainboots, it doesn?t matter) against my body is just too appealing. It annoys the hell out of me. Sssssstop. K? Glad we?re clear.

2. Asking me for a cup of juice at dinner time, then climbing up on the table when I leave the room to get it. You know, I know you?re doing it when I hear the hysterical giggling. And you know that if you do it you are required to take a break from being in the dining room. You are allowed to leave the table whenever you are finished. No bonus for getting kicked out. So, well, this is pretty straightforward. I promise to be pissed about this every time you do it. As I think I have alluded to on more than one occasion in the past, it?s not safe, and it?s rude. So we can just stop with that little drama, because it?s not gonna change. Nope. I will remain this mean FOREVER. Just wait till I have car privileges to take away.

3. Demanding one single exact clothing ensemble, regardless of whether it is clean or not, and then whipping it off 5 minutes later and demanding another one, treading, of course, on the initial outfit in the process. Seriously. I already, surprisingly enough, have a fair amount of laundry to do. Not really necessary to create more by wearing a different outfit every time you walk into a different room in the house. And I'll tell ya right now, being completely naked is not always my favorite alternative, especially when I have EXPLICITLY told you that we are leaving in five minutes and when you are in the other room disrobing while I am putting your brother?s shoes on. Duct tape? Is that the only answer? And no, it?s not okay to go to the library naked. I don?t really have time to explain the many reasons WHY right now, but trust me, they are the same as the last 25 times we have had that conversation, okay?

I think that will do for now. There's more, oh there's more, but if we can start there things will run a lot more smoothly around here.

PMS? Moi? Shut up, it has NOTHING to do with that. Nor is it related to the fact that I have been home solo with the kids for the past week, and for 3 weeks in the last 6 (or something, it?s all a blur now; that?s a conservative estimate), and one of the weeks DP was home involved dinner for 10 and houseguests. And the freelance project and the 9:30 phone meeting with a fucking COMMITTEE (I love phone meetings on Saturday mornings with COMMITTEES reviewing my work--LURVE IT!). That makes me extra perky.

Over at Naked Ovary, one of Karen?s trolls used her cursing as evidence she that she is not ready to be a parent. In that case, three years into it, I am DOOMED.

I had to edit to add this from the comments:

Stephanie has a great #4:

4. I know that you like to nurse standing up and that it seems like a real time saver to you. Despite how this makes me feel less like a loving, nurturing mother and more like a SNACK BAR I am willing to do it if you will simply NOT JUMP AROUND with my nipple in your mouth.

(also, if you could stop stuffing the leftovers from your snack down the side of the couch I would like that.)

Um, yeah, that one too. Technically, the drive-through closed shortly after the take-out and delivery service went offline (pumping, that is) at 18 months. I think around 2, I insisted that all milky sessions be sit-down meals. We did have one session on some days where the rules were off and they got to stand up and SHARE (the other fun twin nursing excitement. You haven't lived until you've had your kids execute an entire wrestling session WHILE latched on). That one session has been spot weaned because I was going to start breaking china if I had to do it again. It was mostly the wiggling, but also the casual way they would turn, holding the breast in one hand, to see what was going on behind them. Sit-down diner from now on.

Thanks, Stephanie, and congrats on the book.

Cool Web Thingamabob #642

Check out TypoGenerator, a cool thingy for creating random text-based graphics, found over at The Other Mother.

What does your vanity plate look like?

The Yarn of Froggage

So I think I mentioned that I would be making a Lopi sweater out of yarn frogged from a poorly-conceived sweater started in, um, 1989?

Well, I frogged the offending garment, and started my Lopi sweater, destined to be a Yule gift for my step brother-in-law, the (arguably) lucky winner of my gift in the sibling gift lottery this year.

I knitted away, watching with satisfaction as the thing grew swiftly, having only 128 stitches on the needle for the entire body.

Wait a minute....that looks a little small....

Let's try to explain my thinking here. Bear with me, this promises to be convoluted.

When it comes to ribbing, I almost always use the same size needles for the ribbing as I do for the body. Only the more traditional (or outdated) patterns tend to have that kind of drawn-in ribbing these days anyway, but when I encounter them, I typically rib with the larger needles, figuring it will draw in a bit because it's ribbing, but it won't have that dreadful boofy look that really tight ribbing can produce (we've already discussed my desire not to draw attention to that particular area).

But this time, since it's for a man with broad shoulders who will probably look good with a tighter waist, and since I figured I'd be traditional for once, I used smaller needles for the ribbing. This was a conscious choice. I remember deciding to do it. Well, now I do.

So, when it came time to change to the body stitches, I had a conversation with myself that went something like this:

Reading: "Hmm, change to larger needles and k 1 row in MC, increasing, blah blah."

"Change needles? I don't change needles. Those instructions are for people who follow instructions. Not me, no siree. I remain, immutably, a person who, as a matter of identity, does not change needles. Keep knitting there mama, and pity those poor pathetic souls who have to change needles at the top of the ribbing."

"Hey, colors! Fun. Keep that tension right. Follow that chart. Loop de loop, in and out, front and back, lalalalalala...pretty geometric forms....lalala..."

"Wait a minute. This fabric feels kind of thick. And you know, the body hasn't really started to expand below the needles as I knit. It's looking, well, like it's not much bigger than the circ needle circumference of 29". That's weird, I'm knitting a 40" sweater. My gauge can't be THAT far off. Let's measure."

"FOUR stitches to the inch? Must be wrong. Oh, definitely. Let's measure again. No, there really isn't any way I can claim this to be 3.25 sts/in, even in some sort of denial-fueled fantasy world."

"Hey. Wait a minute. These are SIZE SEVEN NEEDLES. Now it's not altogether unusual for me to go down 3 needle sizes to get gauge, but I have a vague recollection of only going down one needle size for this project. Now that I think about it.....ack! I *did* rib with smaller needles.....Hello, frogpile."

Sigh. This is not a brain with great powers of observation, is it? No, I don't think so either.

So I put the project in time out before frogging it (and not the positive, take a break time out my kids get, no, this was the shaming, you've been a bad, bad knitting project kind of time out), during which time I shared my tale of woe with Thanksgiving guest Sara, and drowned my sorrows in Eloise, who has met her own bump in the road, though at least it doesn't involve frogging, just waiting for yarn.

This past weekend, I refrogged it (this is the yarn that had already been frogged--should I just throw this stuff away and figure it's a bad omen? I think it has one more chance--you know, 1-2-3 Magic).

Luckily, frogging is not so painful when you're knitting with rope. By Monday evening I had this:

The whole thing is now on the backburner, however, as I frantically try to complete a Multidirectional Diagonal Scarf for Rhys, who is out of town with her sister, supporting her through chemo #4. BTW, solo parenting twin toddlers is TIRING and I have been doing it far too much the last few months. I'm glad she's helping her sister, but I'm also relieved Rhys won't be traveling much (except her one day per week in NJ) after this. The upside is I can (probably) knit her a scarf without her knowing, and that will be cool when I surprise her. (Well, that is if she continues her impeccable record of not reading my blog, despite having been given the address. Rhys, if you're reading this, tell me so I can stop sneaking around.)

I'm using some Kureyon in color 128 that Alison RAOK'd me a few weeks back. I think in order to make a respectable scarf, I'm going to need a 3rd skein. Webs' website claims they have that color. I want to put it in the middle of the scarf so any dyelot differences won't be too noticeable, so off to buy yarn with the kids tonight on the way home. Should be interesting. I'll look forward to being laughed at again...