Blog



  • A blog to serve the needs of the infertile lesbian fiber arts breastfeeding parents of twins community, particularly those who are left-leaning democrats employed in research and education. Don't all comment at once, we don't want to crash the server.

Pandora Radio


Whozzat?


Where?



Blog powered by TypePad

The Plague's Not as Fun As You'd Think

I really should stop tempting fate.

I read some blog post a while ago about someone who was laid up sick and who got a lot of knitting done, and I thought to myself, self, wouldn't it be nice to be laid up sick and get a lot of knitting done?

Well, I got the former all right, but not that much knitting came out of it.  That's because when I get sick, it's not usually the mild sniffly drive-by kind of sick (okay, I don't actually slow down for those, this may be why), but it's usually the asleep for 20-hours-straight kind of sick, and this was one of those.  I woke up for an hour or two, then tried to knit and went right back to sleep.  Fat chance.

A few rows were knitted on the MS3.  Not so much as you'd notice, but more than were in this picture.  I'm a fair bit into clue 3, let's say.  Way behind most of the rest of y'all but what would you expect?

Yes, and now my computer can't even post a photo.  Some stupid explorer window that won't close.  I'll put it up there next time I'm in a quiet space on the home computer with no kids climbing on me.  So, that should be in the next six months, I'm quite sure.

Never mind, I'm going to bed.  Just a shout-out to let you know that I'm (almost) alive.  Thanks for the wonderful dialogue on the Serious Stuff post.  Don't worry, I won't be doing too much of that.

PS: I've also been knitting socks.  Shocker!

Yoniknittomommylesbocentrist Blogging?

[This post was written in January.  I'll explain more about why I didn't post it initially at the end.  Bear with me through a few untimely references, if you would.]

Hmm.

I don't know how many people who read here read a lot of blogs outside the knitblog world, but from time to time there are these little flashes in the pan about men and women and blogging and power.  There was one a while ago, about "where are all the women bloggers," and I sort of skimmed the debate from the sidelines but it was all about political blogs and I figured they had a point, but that I didn't really want to play because it was all so cranky and would take even more time than knitblogging, which is saying something.

But in trying to follow up on Scott Eric Kaufman's chain letter blog meme experiment, I stumbled upon a similar complaint about women and academic blogging.  While I usually let these sorts of debates lie, for some reason this one kind of sparked my interest, I guess because I'm trying to figure out how blogging fits into my life at the current moment, and the value or importance of this enterprise is an important question for me right now. 

So thinking about this, once again it strikes me: sure there are social networks that replicate power structures in the offline world and sure there are powerful male bloggers connecting to other powerful male bloggers, and sure that's a problem for women trying to establish those kinds of blogs, but the thing is that many women aren't trying to establish those kinds of blogs.  Instead, many of us are blogging about other things.  And maybe, just maybe, the point is that we don't care about their stinkin' blogosphere.  Maybe the absence (really underrepresentation) of women in that sort of blog is not because we can't crash through some glass ceiling but because we're building our own house with different building materials (dudes, ceilings work better with wood and drywall, just saying).  And it sort of makes me wonder--should we care?  And if not, do we need to point out to the guys that maybe the problem isn't with our relative absence in the realms they consider important, but instead with their very definition of importance.

Or maybe that would just be rude.  (There's also the distinct possibility that they're right, though, or maybe that's just me being a girl.)  But more on that later.

So, if you didn't have time to read that very long Inside Higher Ed article, I'll summarize.  The point is that Bitch, PhD was the only female blogger featured on the MLA panel with Scott (at which he did not appear to mention anything related to the chain letter meme, unless my sloppy skimming of his blog has missed something, which is altogether possible).  And that the "online parlor," (defined in detail in the article, but you'll have to go read it if you want that much detail, sorry folks) in which, arguably, things of substance are discussed, is once again dominated by men.  So yeah, in blogs that are political, and/or strictly academic, male discourse seems to be the norm.  That translates, apparently, to certain readers, as serious discourse.  And therefore, women are not participating.

But wait.  There is a boatload of knitting blogs.  I would guess that more than 95% of knitting blogs are authored by women.  Broadening the diminutively-named "mommyblogging" to parenting blogs, and again, there is an alarming and well-documented proliferation of same, we're still probably upwards of 9 out of 10 authored by women.  I know next to nothing of these blog solar systems, but I suspect that hollywood blogs and fashion/what was she wearing blogs are equally dependent on the nimble fingers of female authors.  So it's not like we're not online.  And it's not like we're not blogging.

We're just blogging about different stuff.

So?

Knitting, parenting, fashion, stars.  Sounds like fluff to me.  Literally in the case of us fiber bloggers.  I think it might be fluff.  And if it is, are we wasting our time, shirking our responsibilities, and squandering our power?  Or are we building an alternative construction of the "parlor," one to which we can bring our whole selves, as mothers, as artists, as students, as well as being political partisans and teachers and thinkers?  Are we responding to this new open media by creating a world in which we move with fluidity from positions of authority to positions of questioning and unknowing to reflective moments and, importantly, humor?  I'd say, yes, we are, but I'm not entirely sure that doing that is getting us anywhere.

Let's say, for the sake of argument, that we as bloggers, are concerned with social change.  I'll allow as how that's an arguable statement, and how it's pretty clear that your average muggle stumbling upon your average knitblogger (or for that matter, mommyblogger) post, would not perceive that this is the case.  But I actually think it is.  Most of us weave our political and social agendas into our blogging.  Some of us raise staggering amounts of money for worthy causes, exhorting us to think about the nature of consumerism and the extremes of wealth and poverty in our world and our responsibility as members of the wealthy side of that imbalance.  Many others encourage us to address issues of poverty through charity knitting.  Some of us provide a window into the private lives of people under the scrutiny (and criticism) of our society (for example, gay parents, or parents of multiples via fertility treatment, or, you know, both).  Perhaps we're telling the truth about our lives.  Has the world split open yet? 

I guess my question is, is that enough?  We're a privileged bunch here in blogland, generally highly educated, by definition facile with the written word, possessing of disposible income, and, if we're honest with ourselves, time to have hobbies and write about them.  Should we be doing something more profound with these gifts, or would that mean accepting a paradigm that disadvantages us and shortchanges who we are?  Once again, Stephanie's fundraiser has proven the force of us.  Mommybloggers united are likely to have equal potential for power, and have a more obvious agenda for change (family-friendly government policy in the areas of child poverty, health care, and parental leave come to mind).  I wonder if we should be doing something more with this power.

And all that said, I don't really want to.  And I have Daily Kos and Atrios and TPM on my bloglines and I rarely read them because a) depressing, b) not really funny, c) being a news/politics junkie makes me cranky.

...And this is where I stopped.  It's the point at which I was supposed to insert a pithy and thoughtful summation, where I was meant to come to a conclusion, and bring the reader to a resolution of the issue.  The easy thing would have been to have returned to all the reasons knitblogging is powerful, and they do exist.  They're right up there in the paragraphs above; I'm sure there are others.  But I'm not sure I believe it.  And despite that, I am NOT going to start blogging about Serious Stuff(tm) because, you know, I write serious crap all day at work and don't really have a desire to do it recreationally.  But maybe that's where I should leave it.  Maybe the power of this medium is that it is inherently interactive, and maybe if I just put this out there, six months too late but better (hopefully) than never, maybe I'll learn something.  And maybe that's what I was waiting for all along.

The Antipathies, I think.

`I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it'll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward! The
Antipathies, I think--'
--Alice, as she fell down the rabbit hole.

The rabbit hole is deep and full of knitters, and I have fallen into it.  These things happen.  So many out-of-the-way things happen in this knitblog land, I sometimes think that very few things indeed are really impossible. 

Even so, I came to my senses about the cashmere.  I was just going to be too far behind, and where's the fun in that?  There was some hand-dyed zephyr in stash, and it became clear that this was the correct solution to my problem.  There was some prowling of the streets of Noho for 8/0 beads and for minuscule crochet hooks, but in the end all was well and I settled down to knit myself a mystery.  (Don't worry, I'm still going to spin the cashmere.  And don't worry, I'm still going to buy more so I have enough for the next rabbit hole.  For those who know me well, forgive the redundancy of actually saying that out loud.)

Anyway, on I cast, beaded I did, right along to the end of the first chart, at which point the sinking feeling that kept this yarn in stash and off the needles for two years was undeniable.  It was another case of hand-dyed yarn that looks gorgeous in the skein and like ass knitted up.

200706_090

200706_093

You can't even see the lace, never mind the beads.  This would NOT do.

Since I had no interest in buying more laceweight yarn, and since I had already stolen precious knitting time doing the first chart, I decided this was an opportunity for extreme knit-rescue techniques.  I am the boss of my knitting.  I can fix this.

I bound off.

I skeined up.

Into the dye pot it went with a pinch of black and a modicum of turquoise and magenta.  I mean, worst-case scenario, the knitted bit wouldn't dye evenly with the rest of it, and I'd have to rip it out.  Better than ripping it out without even trying, right?

While dyeing, I even watched a Lara Croft movie and kicked Rhys' ass at cribbage.  Just before bed, I rinsed and hung out to dry.

This morning, I'm back on the horse, and, if I do say so myself, with a lovely color that deftly splits the difference between the purples I was thinking of and the black that works with the theme.  It's subtly variegated, but not so much as to take over the pattern.  The beads sparkle.  (It's a little more midnight blue than it looks in the pictures.)

200706_104

200706_098

All in all, a decent evening's work.  Now what about that bottle labeled "drink me" over there on the table?

Random Newsy Yammer

Right.  Still here.  No, really.

  • Since last we spoke I've been to Baltimore and back.  I love my lovely Treo, but when it started to act funny I tried to fix it and now it's completely broken.  Well, it works as a phone.  I have four moblog posts sitting on the Treo, but at this point I can't even get email.  Tech support is one of those things where you yell into the phone with some sort of voice recognition program (I always wonder if it's *real* voice recognition or just some dude in India who they've figured out is more productive when he doesn't have to chat with lonely and crazy people) and then they put you on hold for 40 minutes and, well, I don't know what happens next because I never last that long.  So that's part of why I hadn't posted.  There was this whole thing sent from a water taxi about delicious crab boil for lunch.  I dunno, it was better in the moment.  Sorry about that.
  • I think I mentioned that I broke the camera at the Springdelle farm visit a couple of Saturdays ago (looking back apparently I didn't tell you, but yes, I let the kids take pictures, there was a concrete floor...distractions...you do the math).  That was just the beginning.  By Tuesday morning, I had broken the following items:
    • a blender
    • a bread machine
    • the camera of course, and
    • the car.
  • Yeah, that's right, the car.  It decided it didn't need a transmission anymore and we decided that we didn't need to spend another thousand dollars on it so we sold the car to the repair shop for them to use as a loaner, and now we're a one car family.  Now I know that for many of you urban types this is no big deal, but it's a big deal for me.  There are buses here, but they come once an hour and only until 7 pm, and the route is very limited.  I live in a hilly neighborhood and dude, it's cold to bike in the winter.  I've been on the bus for the last two weeks, and it has been fine, but then again the weather has been pretty much lovely, so we'll see how I do.  My employer is offering a small incentive for me to not get a parking sticker, so that will hopefully keep me honest.  I'm hoping for the best.  Seriously, I feel like a gas-aholic who has just hopped on (off) the wagon.  It's been two weeks since my last solo commute.  At least I can knit on the bus, though it's such a short trip it hardly results in much sock.
  • We had houseguests from Qatar.  Well, one of them, a friend of ours from college, used to live here, and is now living with her family as an expat in Qatar.  They were here for a conference and I got to meet her kids, and managed to turn the thirteen-year-old into a spinner.  Okay, she was already a spinner, I just taught her hands to remember how.  You know someone is over the edge when it's midnight and you have to come into the living room and say "honey, you need to remember, the wool will be here in the morning."  She was in love with some blue tussah that came home with me from KC, and then there was a Grafton Fibers spindle that hasn't seen the use it should have, and now she'll be bringing some good spinning back to Qatar.  Via camp in Minnesota.  You know, the usual sort of enabling.
  • While I didn't replace the car, I did of course replace the camera (and the blender and the bread machine, what do you take me for?).  Here's proof, from the local ice cream shop.200706_030
  • Yes, they have dog sundaes.  I told you this was my kind of town.
  • Finally, Stephanie, have you no mercy?  I've really resisted this whole MS3 thing for weeks now, and then you have to go and make me sign up.  (I know, try to blame Julia but it's not going to work.  She just innocently linked to the thing.)  But still, I don't have to knit the thing.  There may have been stash combing and then there was this moment with some gray NH cashmere but the thing is that it hasn't been spun up yet.  I'm only on the tenth repeat of the camel/tussah shetland triangle, and it's tightly knit so I'm guessing I'll end up with 30 repeats and not have it be too big.  So I don't have time for this.  But I may have started spinning NH cashmere.  I'm not making any commitments, though.

I think I need to get back to the wheel.  There was this whole idea about finishing the 2006 holiday gift sweater, but you know, at this point what's a few more weeks?  Cashmere...

Oh Me of Little Faith

It only took two years, but from sheep and wool festival to shawl, I give you the copper moth tussah scarf that's so old that I even have a category for it.  (Okay, I don't really give you it, more like I give you a picture of it.)

Dsc00024

Eleanor served as photo stylist.  I asked her to model by wearing it, but instead she suggested posing it near the garden.  She has good ideas.

Dsc00023

I spent a lot of time while knitting it thinking of ripping it out.  I actually ripped out two different scarf/shawl starts before getting to this one.  The fabric is pretty loosely knit, more so than I would do if I had it to do over, but I think it works.  Anyway, I like it.  I wasn't sure the pattern would show up, but in the end it did.  Right up until I pinned it out, I was considering other patterns, and then, well, the big pile of spaghetti turned into a shawl.

It wasn't that I didn't trust EAC (that's what I call her now: three shawls in a row and I think we're ready for a nickname).  It was more that I didn't think I was doing either her or the handspun naturally-dyed yarn any justice.  EAC and some blocking pins--now we're talking.

It didn't quite debut at Barb's open farm day on Saturday.  The kids and I had a good time even if I was shawlless.  I think Henry ate at least 30 cookies, and I got a treat of seeing knitting friends out of season (you know, not in May or October, official fiber festival months).  Marcy came with us in the Car of Great Loudness; blogless Kathleen was there with her family, including her daughter who was the perfect partner in crime for my two; blogless Deanna also turned up with some gorgeous dog hair-wool-blend gloves she'd spun and knit; and finally Terri and her husband drove up on a motorcycle.  What fun.  The best part was when a bus drove up the remote country road, pulled in and disgorged a whack (isn't that the right term?) of knitters on an official yarn crawl.  Apparently someone got wind of the open farm at Webs, and it was kind of on the way, and Bob's your uncle.  Someone must have whispered the word "cashmere."  Smart knitters.  All that, and a sweet baby lamb.  And a sweet mama too.

200706_009

I confess, some cashmere silk came home with me.  Because apparently I didn't get enough with all the lurking around the booth at Cummington.  Okay and New Hampshire, what's your point?  I was feeling all virtuous since I was already knitting another EAC (shetland triangle) with the camel silk I bought at New Hampshire THIS YEAR, and figured that gave me carte blanche to buy more.

200706_008

Don't tell me different.  What's done is done.

Go Mass!

Today the Mass legislature defeated an attempt to put my civil rights on the ballot in 2008.  The next chance they have is 2012, and we have a lot of time to get people to grow up change minds between now and then.   My governor, the house speaker and senate president, and my stalwart state senator and representative made this happen, along with organizations like Mass Equality.  The support of a strong progressive leadership team is inspiring.

Is this what it feels like to live in Canada?



Dear Hormones,

We need to talk. 

I know that theoretically, at least, you're supposed to be helping to keep me alive.  I appreciate your work in that area.  I enjoy being alive, and I value your role in that process.  However, we really need to work on this whole fucking around with me thing, because it's really not okay.

I realize that throughout my life, I have been advanced for my age.  I'm just an advanced kind of girl.  What are you going to do?  However, I do need to point out that I'm deeply immature in a wide variety of ways, and in sum, these things really do even themselves out.  My point is, I'm not so advanced that you need to start acting like I'm 50.  In case you hadn't gotten the memo, hormones, I'M THIRTY-SEVEN.  You should be done messing with me with the acne, and you should not be already starting to mess with me with the menopause. 

That said, I am quite certain of the fact that you should definitely, most definitely, not be doing both AT THE SAME TIME.  Hormones, that's just not fair play.  The part where I wept all over my broken out face while fanning myself at the meeting this evening?  Did anyone benefit?  I ask you.  It's possible that I might have been slightly hostile about certain matters pertaining to church governance at a rather inopportune (but not, I must point out, unwarranted) juncture.  I'm not sure you were ON the agenda for the church meeting, and I'm quite certain I did not plan to have my hormones speak on behalf of my committee.  In fact, I believe my hormones are meant to have an entirely non-speaking part, and I tend to subscribe to the notion that executive function skills are generally warranted in procedural settings.  I'd appreciate if you'd restore access those skills to me at your earliest convenience.

Now hormones, we've had words in the past, I know.  I was distinctly displeased with you when, at 29, you decided that you'd mess with the whole baby-making mechanics and you decided to make lots of eggs, but not make any that worked.  It was cute, the whole unexplained infertility thing with the ovulating every month and making it look like you were trying, when really you were popping out immature, chromosomally-deficient eggs just like they were normal ones every month.  But we took you by the hand and with the help of our friends at Village Pharmacy and Brigham & Women's Hospital, and we made it clear that you did not get to be in charge of whether I got to be a mom or not.  Now I was pretty mad (okay, enraged with god and the universe might be a better description), but I thought we had worked it all out.  You gave me a near-term (if harrowing) twin pregnancy, and a full, abundant, and easy milk supply, and I decided I was willing to forgive you (mostly).  I thought we were okay.  Maybe not the best of friends, but still, able to live together.

And now you do this.  I don't need the weeping and the senility and the sudden furnace blasts from inside my shirt.  My life is quite complicated enough, and, I might add, I was already sufficiently stupid at random intervals without your help.  If there's something you need--soy or chocolate or something, we can talk, I'll do my best.  But please, this is really distinctly unnecessary.

I realize you're not exactly amenable to my entreaties.  We've been through this before.  But if you'd just consider my request that if you're going to give me hot flashes, that you'd stop with the zits, that would show that you're acting in some degree of good faith.  Otherwise, I'm calling the doc.

Yours (unfortunately), mamacate

Best of KC

I'm back from KC.  Life hit me right between the eyes when I returned, and shows no sign of abating.  See how much I post when my kids, my boss, and church aren't in the mix?  Seriously.

But I still need to report on the best of Kansas City.  That would be Cottage Fiber.  All the places I visited were lovely (go to The Studio for a wide variety of yarns, to the Yarn Barn for an awesome selection of spinning equipment), but Cottage Fiber was the best.  It almost didn't happen.

In researching my trip (you know, airline tickets, rental car, conference registration, yarn near westin crown center on google maps--the usual), I found Cottage Fiber, but they were only open 4 days a week, and they were not the days we were there.  I emailed the owner just to see if she had hours by appointment, and she agreed to open up for us.

Can I tell you how glad I am that I emailed?  This place is like a fiber festival in the middle of a city.

And the owner is a wonderful fiberphile living the dream.  I want to be like PJ when I grow up.  (Seriously, if I had a store, I would want it to be like this one.  Except I might try to talk people out of buying some of the stuff, which PJ quite graciously sold to us without even twitching.) 

Here she is posing for the blog with my partners in crime, the championship institutional research fiber crawl team, Sara and Teri.

Mystery_camera_001

The place is fantastic.  The first room.

Mystery_camera_002

If that's not enough, there's actually a second room.

Mystery_camera_004

All those little cubbies have various sorts of hand-dyed fibers, handspun yarns, and generally beautiful, special things.

Then there was the Hutch of Exotic Fibers at Reasonable Prices.

Mystery_camera_005

That happens to be my favorite kind of hutch.  Out of it I extracted some hand-dyed tussah and hand-dyed cashgora.

For Sara, it yielded llama.
Mystery_camera_006

Teri, appropriately enough, found bunny in the hutch, though she forgot to bring it home.  That's okay, she'll be calling.
Mystery_camera_007
I may have mentioned this before, but I love that hutch.

I somehow managed to not take photos of the stash enhancement on my part, but there was a wee bit of falling down near the tussah, and that sunrise-colored ball of fiber in the llama photo above represents my willingness to consider once again the merits of cashgora after a deadline-spinning experience for a very wonderful cause but that put me off the stuff for a while.  Other than that, I was pretty well behaved.

Even so, I think we made the visit worth PJ's while.  I know I'll be calling her back if I'm ever in KC again.

There's more knitting I've been remiss about sharing.  I took this picture the day after Cummington.  I'm halfway through the edging now.

Kristens_camera_507_072_2

It's copper moth (no longer, but the dyer now blogs here) tussah (hence the falling down around silk lately), purchased two years ago at NHS&W under duress.  This yarn is so old, I have a category for it.  This blog thing comes in handy, since finding that link just told me how many yards I have.  I have to poach a few yards from the thicker skein to finish the edging, but I think I'll have a little scarf's worth left.  The pattern is my hero, Evelyn A. Clark's Leaf Lace Shawl.  I confess, I'm a groupie.  Because I started another one of Evelyn's shawls.  You know, with the camel/silk, from THIS year's NHS&W.

Mystery_camera_009

It's the Shetland Triangle from Wrap Style (the only reason I bought the book).

I survived the washing of the singles.  Winding the skein was no problem; the washing gave me fits.

Mystery_camera_020

It looks REALLY medical.  Sorry Laurie.  All I could think was placenta.

Mystery_camera_023

It lived to tell the tale, though.  I managed to make it through the hyperventilating (so did Kristen, who came to visit the kids, and talked to me occasionally too).  Apparently, I got lucky, because I even wound it into a ball without any disasters.

Mystery_camera_007_2

Yes, that's a four-leaf AND a five-leaf clover (not sure what the five-leaf one means).  I found them both within minutes of each other; the first ones I've ever found, despite looking for four-leaf clovers my entire life, and always, apparently, overlooking them.  Maybe things are looking up...

Up to Date Update

As Ruth pointed out, though I didn't arrive here on a Friday, I have already learned a thing or two (largely related to the persistence of underrepresented minorities in science disciplines and future government reporting requirements).

If you're wondering what the hell I'm on about, watch the third clip here or read here.

Sara's here, and also Teri.  I like working in an industry where there is a knitblogger contingent at most conferences.  We had a nice lunch today, and have yarn crawling planned for tomorrow afternoon.

Anyway, after learning a thing or two or three, Sara and I headed out for yarn and bbq.  A series of cases of me getting us lost (what the hell happened to my sense of direction?) meant we got to the yarn store at 6 pm, minutes after they were to close.  Sara knocked on the door anyway, and they were very kind and let us in.  There was locally hand-dyed yarn, the makings of my next sock (I am kitchenering as we speak, and was in grave danger of not! having a sock! to knit! at a conference!).

The owners were very sweet, willing to be blogged, and even wound my yarn.

Mystery_camera_003

Sara had fun choosing.  There was some petting of cashmere.  Can you blame her?
Mystery_camera_002

Then we went and had some awesome and totally non-touristy barbeque.

Mystery_camera_008

The ribs were good but the beans, oh my god the beans.  If you're ever in KC, go eat these beans.  I know, it's silly to wax rhapsodical about beans, but people you have not tried these beans.  My point: yum.

Anyway, it was an early morning and a busy day, so to bed with me. As for tomorrow, what next! What next?

Up to Date

Just keeping you up-to-date: I'm in Kansas City.  I've gone about as far as I can go, though my hotel room is above the seventh floor so presumably they went farther.

I'll have my head in work stuff at a conference for the next three days, but an early flight meant there was time for a wee road trip.

Mystery_camera_010

The Yarn Barn.  Of Kansas.  Just about 40 miles west of town.

Mystery_camera_015
Lawrence, to be exact.  Sweet college town.  Very nice.
Mystery_camera_012
I acquainted myself with this Lendrum Saxony.  Dangerous.  Very dangerous.  Little sample skein there.

Some chasing rainbows bombyx followed me home.
Mystery_camera_016

Also a couple of books and magazines, maybe an aptly-named shawl pattern.

Mystery_camera_018

Off to the plenary.  I think we're up to date.

June 2008

Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat
1 2 3 4 5 6 7
8 9 10 11 12 13 14
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
22 23 24 25 26 27 28
29 30          

irrepressible


LibraryThing