Mountain Mama

Praying Mantis Costume*

2011-10-02T19:31:00.000-06:00

Buy a handmade praying mantis costume on my Etsy site!

It would appear that my idea for a preying mantis costume is contagious. Two years ago, Yummy asked to be a praying mantis for Halloween:

Preying Mantis Costume

And after a few inquiries from complete strangers, I decided to test the water by selling the preying mantis costume at my Etsy store.

So now I have 24 yards of green polar fleece en route to my house. And later, I may create (and copyright) the pattern.

What other Halloween costume ideas do you have? Preferably using green fleece.

*The above post was hand-crafted by the Businessman for ideal SEO. After he's done writing my business plan, I'll write one for him selling his hand-crafted SEOptimized blog posts. And we'll live happily ever after.

Daydreams

2011-03-31T18:41:00.000-06:00

Okay, remember this?

Like anyone could forget such an atrocity on the eyes.

Ick.

Well, money is tight. But seeing that this is the dream home and all, I think it's okay to have short-term, and long term plans.

Short term:

Rip out the back splash. Paint the walls. Paint the cabinets a deep espresso brown/black. Paint the doors cream, pop some color in a few of the blocks. Wash them with a brown glaze (just to tone down the color). Possibly replace the floors with a medium-toned wood.

And voila!

It's kitchy, a little retro, maybe cool. I don't know. The Businessman doesn't like it. Of course, he likes the old kitchen.

Long term:

Put Martha Stewart on speed dial.

Ah, the Bank-Owned Property

2011-03-30T10:13:00.000-06:00

We decided our timeline permitted us to take advantage of the foreclosure side of the market. We'd been looking at houses for a couple months and once we finally came under contract in Ft Collins, our Real Estate Agent took us through a few bank-owned and foreclosure properties.

Scary. And not quite the deals you would think once you've repaired everything. Like a new roof, new siding, new carpets, or a new basement because the kitchen flooded at some point and no one was there for weeks so the entire basement and main floor are covered in green mold. Covered in green mold.

I like green but not at the cost of my asthmatic child's life.

We are buying a bank-owned property. We found one that chimed us every single time we looked at it. The inspector had tons of great things to say about the new roof, the furnace, the siding. And, to our amazement, the bank had already arranged for new carpet to be installed before our offer, so we have an entire house with brand spanking new carpet (and some new linoleum in the mudroom and one of the bathrooms).

But, since it is bank-owned, there is one problem.

The picture that follows may be unsuitable for delicate stomachs. Or people with heart conditions. In fact, you should probably only look at this picture if you're blind.

This is my new kitchen.

Isn't it amazing? I don't know which I like better: The goofy linoleum backsplash, the horribly dated cabinet doors, or the countertops.

Actually, I hate it all. But if it's the worse thing that can be said of this house (which we're buying for a steal!) I'll live with it. At least until I can convince The Businessman that sledgehammers are fun.

Best Intentions

2011-03-26T20:38:00.000-06:00

I do intend to start blogging regularly again.

No. Really. I do.

I'm biding my time, living in a tiny rental, wishing I could paint, rearrange furniture, and cook grilled cheese without my kitchen looking like a bomb exploded.

We are a tall family and we need space to stand upright. Generations ago, the first MountainCave Mama stood upright on her large feet, painted the rock walls, knit some throw pillows out of mammoth wool and then probably bumped her head on a stalagtite and demanded her BusinessCaveman find taller habitation.

This Mountain Mama has evolved (though she's still looking for evidence of evolution in the Businessman) and will be moving into her Dream Home soon. Very soon. Like four weeks.

At which point the blog will probably become more about home renovations than knitting, but whatever.

I'll be blogging.

Has It Really Been mumble Months?

2011-03-17T19:01:00.000-06:00

So...how are things?

o_O

I've been slogging my way through life, anticipating the day when all the dust will settle and I will wake up living my dream.

You know, the dream where I get the most awesome house in the world but it's only awesome in my head because I'm the only one who has the vision but that's a good thng because no one else wants the house and the bank'll sell it to me for a song. Except the song is more like a ballad (which is still a song) and my visions may be delusions but what else is new?

That day is not here yet. But, my friends, I'm close. So close.

Any more details at this time would send Mr. Murphy (of Murphy's Law) into a bevy of excitement. And I'd rather let the gentleman rest. I've already wreaked so much havoc on his blood pressure.

Updates

2011-01-07T10:03:00.000-07:00

Phase 1 Complete: The Businessman has a new job!
Ft Collins was headed toward a dead end for him. Now he has a proper job in a proper city for his talents. It's nice to have my husband back.

Phase 2 Complete: We've moved!
I now live in my favorite area of the country--the Pacific Northwest. My family is in a rental that's about the size of a postage stamp but has 276 shades of green in the backyard. The Businessman, ever the optimist, keeps saying phrases like "this is cozy" and "how much space do people really need?" Since more than half of our belongings (including My Sewing Room) are in storage, my opinions regarding square footage requirements are mixed.

Phase 3: Pending: I'm still a victim of the real estate market
Our home in Ft. Collins hasn't sold yet, ergo the rental. Which leads us to...

Phase 4: Pending: Buy new house.
Not likely until phase 3 is complete.

It's chaos. It's frustration. It's tense. And when all the dust is settled...

I'll still be living in my favorite part of the country.

A Wetter Shade of Green

2010-12-18T16:13:00.000-07:00

A follow-up to this post. It's images from my new backyard.

Six Sleeves

2010-10-27T07:49:00.000-06:00

"Experienced knitters don't make fewer mistakes than new knitters. They make bigger ones faster."--Yarn Harlot

Cast-on. Knit. Get 20 rows from the end and wonder why it's not right. Discover that you increased every 8th row 10 times and not every 10th row 8 times. Frog.*
Cast-on. Knit. Make some inexplicable error in the math. Curse. Frog.
Cast on again, Knit. Bind off. Phew!
Cast on for second sleeve. Knit. Bind off. Realize you cast on the wrong number of stitches. Frog.
Cast on. Knit. Get to end and realize you forgot an increase. Frog.
Cast-on. Knit. Bind off.

It's a gift for someone. It needs to be perfect.

Also it's fat yarn which means ~~I can finish this jacket in no time at all~~ anything more than 3-4 stitches makes a real difference in the measurements.

*Frog, frogging: Pulling the needle out of your knitting and unraveling a large amount. Derived from the sound/motion "rip-it, rip-it"

Flip Flop

2010-10-23T20:38:00.000-06:00

The knitting machine, which really will need a name soon, is providing a pleasant distraction as I watch My Sewing Room being whittled away daily. As much as I want to fight it, I realize I must put the bulk of my creative area in storage until we can purchase our next house.

Luckily, knitting is portable and my whole hobby can fit in a moving box. Just in case I'm not the one doing the heavy lifting, I'll label that box "Raingear" which guarantees it will end up in our temporary Pacific Northwest residence and not a warehouse somewhere between here and there.

Not that having an excuse to buy more yarn would be a bad thing...

...hmmm...

Anyway, while there are numerous advantages to my knitting machine--faster knitting, perfect tension, phenomenal stash reduction--there are some disadvantages, including not seeing the right side of my work until I'm finished with a piece.

While something might seem a gentle blending of harmonious autumnal colors on the machine:

It looks like an unfortunate choice in wallpaper on the "right" side:

Yuck! I cancelled this project and used the yarn for other things. Like this.

But, while something may look vaguely symmetrical and perhaps a bit too contrasty on the wrong side:

The right side proves stunning:

It's for Yummy, my 7yo. He chose the colors.

I secretly added robots on the one sleeve. I hope he's not too cool to wear them. Even if he is, I can whip up a new sleeve in an afternoon.

Basic raglan sweater with various modifications

Knit Picks Stroll (washable wool/nylon) Midnight, Pea Pod, Blue Topaz

Status Updates

2010-10-20T18:29:00.000-06:00

What my FaceBook wall would say if I had the time:

TBM has worked from home for 143 minutes. We decided to drop the price of the house to get things going. This was about 142 minutes and 28 seconds longer than I expected.

I've knit five sleeves for a coat I'm making for my mom. Like most people, she only has two arms. Sixth time's a charm.

Because TBM is working from home, I don't have access to my computer except during insomnia o'clock and why-don't-you-play-with-the-kids thirty.

This brief moment of blogging is marred by my inability to upload pictures because of "scheduled maintenance"

I've knit three sweaters for my kids. Too bad you can't see them because of "scheduled maintenance"

Bionic Knitter

2010-10-06T10:02:00.000-06:00

I did it. I made a sweater on the knitting machine. It only took me a day and a half.

I love the fact that I can make a sweater for my kiddo in hardly any time at all. And I used a decent supply of yarn.

So there you go. I have figured out how to knit at supersonic speed. It was only a matter of time.

Haute Couture

2010-10-02T19:18:00.000-06:00

My mom and I went shopping a few weeks ago and popped into J.Jill. We were enchanted by these sweaters:

I don't know why we liked them so much. The sheerness? The simplicity? The idea you could wear a sweater without sweating? Whatever it was we kept coming back to that part of the store.

But I just can't bring myself to spend $80.00 on a sweater, because I knit...

Wait a minute...I have a knitting machine...and a huge pile of lace yarn...

And now you know why I haven't been around the past couple weeks. I don't have anything photo worthy yet--just a bunch of swatches, various partial sweaters strewn around the house, a couple pairs of socks and a knitting machine that's heard it's share of new words recently.

I'm not giving up yet.

I'll Trade You This Sheep for Those Cacao Beans

2010-09-22T15:13:00.000-06:00

I'm a knitter. I acquire yarn at lightning speed. I try to knit through it all but it's just not possible. Especially when the project for which you bought the yarn overestimated the yardage (which is far better than running out of yarn but still).

Four years go I finished up a coat and had LOTS of the yarn left. It's a unique yarn--fun to use for this project, but I wasn't itching to knit with it again. Honestly, it wasn't ranking too high among the 30 miles of other yarn I have.

But I had too much leftover to toss, or donate:

Unspun Icelandic (100% wool)

I plopped it into my stash and ignored it for four years. Recently, I got a simple request via Ravelry: Do you still have this yarn? Can I buy it from you?

Buy it from me? Heck, I'd be happy to not have to move it across the country.

I sent it to her at a price that covered shipping and breathed a sigh of relief. Because I always feel good when I can help another knitter out and because I no longer have to pack it or inventory it during my annual Airing of the Stash.

She thanked me in chocolate.

Honestly, I think I got the better end of the deal.

I can't wait to see what she knits,

At Least I Didn't Include An Invoice

2010-09-14T12:02:00.000-06:00

Buttons really pull it together.

Weaving the ends in really finishes it.

Stuffing it in a box and sealing it before I can add a nice little note...

...really adds to the professionalism.

Dear MW,

Can't wait to meet you.

Love, MM

More Things Nice

2010-09-13T14:47:00.000-06:00

I've found my go-to pattern for baby girls.

The pattern is well-written. It's fast, a little technical, and so stinkin' sweet I think I have a cavity from knitting two of them in a row.

This one is still waiting for buttons. It will also be much nicer with all those ~~choking hazards~~ ends woven in. I still have time, the baby isn't here yet.

Debbie Bliss Smock Jacket from Celtic Knits

Lambspun Prism in Pomegranate Torte (50%wool/50%silk)

All Things Nice

2010-08-31T08:12:00.000-06:00

Have you ever...

...created a gift...

...so charming...

...you couldn't bear to give it away?

Yeah. Me neither.

Smock Jacket by Debbie Bliss

Sensations Bamboo & Ewe (wool/bamboo/nylon)

Attn Gypsies: One 4yo For Sale

2010-08-29T08:22:00.000-06:00

My youngest child. My baby. He's the one who's supposed to be on my side. He's the one who's supposed to shower me with unlimited affection.

He's the one who I almost sold to gypsies yesterday.

The Businessman took Yummy out leaving me and Vish behind to man the fort. Vish went outside to ride his bike, play at the playground and explore like Indiana Jones. Later I heard him open the door and patter into the house.

"Mom, don't turn around and look at what I have because it's a snake"

I of course turned around, screamed, and demanded the child leave my home immediately. Once I had stopped hyperventilating I carefully opened the door and talked to Vish:

MM: Honey?
V: What?
MM: Do you still have that snake?
V: Yes! I put it in my bug catcher!*
MM: Well, snakes aren't allowed in the house, why don't you take him out back. You can let him go (far, far away) or wait for Daddy to get home.
V: Okay! I'll keep him in the bug catcher until dad gets home. He'll like my snake.

When TBM got home, I explained what happened and while doing this the cat stepped on my foot. I jumped and screamed and my husband laughed at me. He laughed at me.

Maybe the gypsies would buy him too.

Sorry about all the snake stories lately. There is one story I haven't told yet. It involves my cat Clive, barbeque tongs and a speaker phone.

*Note to self: Thank my mother for the gift.

Ssssspectacular

2010-08-24T07:33:00.001-06:00

Our home is on the market now so the frantic aspect of "getting the home ready for market" is finished, only to be replaced by "why is nobody helping me keep this house clean?"

The Businessman was in charge of all things outdoors which included weed whacking. He found three baby bullsnakes during the weedwhaking process. Well, the weedwhacker found two of them so maybe I should say TBM found 1 and 4/2 baby bullsnakes. This is still about four too many for my taste.

There's a nest somewhere. Probably under our front patio.

I'm never using our front door ever again.

Later, TBM and our neighbor were talking and neighbor mentioned that his kids have found several baby bullsnakes in various areas of the neighborhood.

To quote the Businessman: "So it's not a nest under our doorstep. It's a neighborhood infestation."

We are so moving.

The Good Ole Summertime

2010-08-23T07:50:00.007-06:00

Summer is not my best knitting time. For so many reasons. The kids are home. It's hot. It's sticky. The kids are sticky. Oops, I just dropped ice cream in my lap of knitting. Again.

And then there's the kitten. Kittens find yarn, knitting needles and the synchronization of the two the most fascinating thing in the world. It's instinct and Midas is a self motivated gentleman--his destiny is to kill it.

My only goal this Summer was a project I owe a friend in barter. She sent me a pattern. I knit. She'll take care of my mother's Christmas present. Love that.

It's so hard to knit something not of your choosing. To not stray from the pattern at all. Not to curse fall and harvest colors (generally my favorite) when you have a lovely creamsicle colored yarn screaming to be knit but the only size 6 needles you have are being used to knit fall and harvest colors.

It was a battle.

The only concession I made in the pattern was adding a bit of elastic in the waist. There is no way these pants would have fit a toddler otherwise.

Once the final end was woven. I dove into my stash, pulled out two skeins that have been calling to me and cranked this little number out in 24 hours.

I knit the same pattern last winter. It's a mite too small this year so I promised Vish a new one.

In other news, I have about 3,275 friends who chose to have lots of fun last fall and are now paying for all that fun in the maternity wards of various hospitals across the country. I've been remiss to all of you. I apologize. Especially BFF in Seattle.

I'm on it.

The yarn brings out his eyes.
The camera brings out his lower lip.

Harvest Moon, designer unknown. Knit Picks Comfy (cotton/acrylic)

Peruvian Hat by Pam Allen. Noro Silk Garden (wool/silk) and Tahki Savoy (wool/silk)

All Cats Are Simon's Cat

2010-08-19T12:46:00.000-06:00

His name is Midas. The children love him.

After watching the video below...

7yo was laughing so hard he fell off the chair.
4yo laughed so hard he started wheezing and needed his nebulizer
The Businessman laughed. (Let it suffice that he is now a cat person--it took ten years for that transformation. Little steps.)

Signs

2010-07-26T07:38:00.006-06:00

New Addition

2010-06-26T12:07:00.002-06:00

Meet our new family member, name as yet undecided. He is three months old, has huge feet, and the incessant curiosity known to all members of his species.

Did I mention how large his feet are?

Sasquatch? Yeti?

He'll fit in well with our family.

Devil's Advocate--Macrobiotics

2010-06-07T16:31:00.004-06:00

Before I eliminated meat from my diet, I did a whole lot of research to make sure I wasn't doing something really stupid to my health just to prove a point.

I'm now exploring vegan which has led me to several variations on the theme.

I started with macrobiotics. I'll admit, I was researching the idea of losing weight with a macrobiotic diet because I know a few people who have done that very thing. What I found was a diet centered on whole grains and vegetables with beans and non-tropical fruits rounding out the meal--sounds okay so far.

Fundamentally it's yin vs yang. The closer your food is to the center of the yin/yang scale, the more balanced you'll be. Foods that fall to the extremes (sugar, dairy, eggs, tobacco, alcohol and drugs) tend to rock the boat a little too much.

As does, for some inexplicible reason,* spinach and chard, my two favorite greens.

Upon learning this little factoid I curled up into a fetal position on the couch, effectively making my own yin/yang symbol. Except I had a pint of Coffee Heath Bar and a spoon. At that moment Ben was Yin and Jerry was Yang and I was cursing a diet that felt spinach was a no-no. Maybe ice cream and spinach cancel each other out.

More to the point, is there any sound research out there that says eat whole grains because they are only slightly yin...or is it yang? How do you scientifically determine a food's yangness?

To me, the core foods of the macrobiotic diet seem sound but the reasoning is a little too Eastern for me. Not that Eastern is bad, it's just that I'm a product of European ancestry. I practice yoga because I like trying to do contortions (whew! Glad that's off my chest) and I will eat whole grains because they taste...right.

But it's not enough to convince me to be vegan.

*I know. It's the oxalic acid. Whatever.

Anticipation

2010-04-25T09:44:00.002-06:00

The new kitty I'm getting as soon as I get back from the cruise
The cruise
The new Twilight movie (yes, I know)
The line-up of summer movies at my local drive-in theater
Holes at my local theater
Weekly picnics at my favorite, free, Spray Park

School is almost out. Summer is almost here.

The Slithy Toves...

2010-04-18T12:17:00.003-06:00

Check these out:

'Twas Brillig. Right?

I've been in negotiations with the artist, who is a friend and just happens to need something knitted by October (alas it's not a hookah).

Now that my pair of shoes is safely in her to do list, I feel it's okay to broadcast her Etsy site to the rest of the world.

Gyre and gimble on over to Mamagems Etsy store.

Don't step on the mome raths.

Swimsuit Shopping

2010-04-12T12:00:00.005-06:00

Well, despite my being in the gym 6+ days/week, ellipticizing 15-20 miles, yoga 2-3 hours, and lifting weights 3 times/week, I have gained 3 pounds.

But I have lots of energy, better posture and can see and feel results. Especially notable is the inch I lost around my neck.

Be sure to compliment me on how skinny my neck looks.

The same event that is motivating me to spend my knitting and blogging time at the gym--a cruise in June--is the same event that drove me to the mall last weekend, to buy a swimsuit.

I love Eddie Bauer. Scratch that, I love Eddie Bauer, but I really love their outlet store.

I found a $135 swimsuit (brown) for $29.99. It's a miracle suit which advertizes looking ten pounds thinner in ten seconds. The work is actually done while putting on the suit (10 seconds? Ha!) but it enhances my ~~neck~~ bust (which has lost 1/2 an inch) and slims my torso (no measurable change).

I also decided to try on a swim skirt. I am not a skirt wearer. Skirts are as pointless to me as dress socks are to my children. But all these cute athletic skirts have been living in my head (thanks to a certain VW who gave me some trendy wardrobe suggestions) and I decided I needed to try one on so I could veto it with authority.

I came home with this one. It's pink and it's a skirt and I can't explain it but I liked it. And it was only $19.99.

I also got a top sort of like this one to go with it. $75 marked down to $19.99. And it's green. I heart green.

Yes, a ~~skinny necked, flat chested, overweight~~woman can enjoy swimsuit shopping.

Thank you, Eddie Bauer Outlet.

Crazy

2010-03-23T08:09:00.003-06:00

Not sure I'm liking that this blog has become my weightloss journal, but I've lost four pounds. So there you go. This puts me one pound away from my first goal, which was to start losing weight.

It's crazy because I've done it while eating in excess of 2000 calories a day.

It's crazy because it's hard to eat 2000 calories a day (unless I allow Whopper Eggs to enter my house).

It's crazy because, I could lose weight faster if I ate, say, 1400 calories a day, but then my body would think it was starving, screw up my metabolism and hit a plateau.

But what's really crazy are the Burpees. Because I'm such a weanie. I broke a sweat yesterday after doing seven. Seven!

And I'm doing push-ups on my knees.

More Exercise

2010-03-19T06:00:00.004-06:00

So are we all up to snuff on Burpees? Today we do four. Unless you're just joining me. Then you're stuck doing 1+2+3+4=10. If you slack until day 32 you'll have to do 495 just to catch up.

I've also been sticking my arse on a cardio machine of some form and going three miles every weekday. Sometimes the treadmill, sometimes the elliptical. It depends on several variables like how good my achilles are feeling, what shoes I'm wearing at the time, and what's on my iPod.

Speaking of which...

I discovered the Fat 2 Fit Podcast. It's very motivational and informative. I've been on this boat before but this one explains why all the other boats have sunk. For starters, there is a physiological reason why I can and should eat 2200 calories/day. As it turns out, when I limit my socializing with my good friends Ben and Jerry, 2200 calories is damn hard to accomplish.

I two weeks I've lost three pounds. And that is exactly as it should be.

Burpee Challange

2010-03-18T08:35:00.004-06:00

I'm here. Still kickin'.

Vish has decided to forgo his afternoon nap. I had hoped he would take after his older brother, who would still take a nap if his schedule, his pride, and our affirmations weren't hindering it. But alas, his little body has decided it doesn't need the extra sleep.

My body is using naptime to get healthy.

To begin with, I started my own Burpee Challange. In 2009 a group of people did this challange, but since I didn't know about it then, I decided to start now. I have a small group of people on Facebook joining me (okay, so two of them live with me) but I'm inviting you to join me as well.

March 18th is day 3. If you join me today, you will have to do 1+2+3. It's better to join me now then on, say, day 32. By day 100 we will do 100 Burpees. After that, I will be on a cruise and you can take your year of rest.

I did 3 on day 1 just to make sure my form was okay and that I wasn't going to mutilate my joints. I was sore on day 2. This is a full body excercise that works your arms, core, legs and heart. You may split them up throughout the day (though I would hope this won't be necessary until about day 20).

There's a good video of a burpee on the above link. The process is: Stand, squat, jump to plank (push-up position), push-up (I do them on my knees, Yummy skips 'em), jump back to squat, jump to standing.

Repeat.

Will you join me?

Blue Washcloth Anecdote

2010-03-10T09:12:00.005-07:00

During his final year of college, the Businessman and one of his fellow RA friends (we'll call him Al) decided to rent a house together and found lodging with two other people. One bathroom, four bedrooms, coed.

Before the Fall semester started, one of the dorms lost their water so they invited another RA friend of theirs to use their shower. Once the water was back, she resumed showering in the dorm.

Fast forward several months when the three boy roommates started whispering behind the back of the Girl Roommate.

Have you noticed that smell in the shower?
Yes! It's that rank washcloth.
Is it yours?
No, I think it's hers.
What is she washing with that thing to make it smell so bad?
*pause*
Are you going to tell her?
Hell no.

This went on for a few weeks. They affectionately called it the Poon Cloth. Finally the Businessman confronted Girl Roommate.

It's not mine! I thought it belonged to one of you.
Whose is it then?

At this point I suggested that perhaps the washcloth had been left behind by their Summer guest. After five months, it was bound to reek. The Businessman threw it out.

The next morning, Al wanted to know where his blue washcloth was.

We received a blue towel set from the roommates as a gag graduation gift. I threw the last one out today.

It was getting stinky.

Scary

2010-03-03T14:06:00.003-07:00

The face of genius:

Now that Vicious refuses to nap, I have had much less time for knitting and far more time to discover that the child scares me.

In an attempt to keep him occupied during an award ceremony, I whispered various 3-4 letter words which he dutifully wrote on a spare sheet of paper. Sounded out, figured out the letters and wrote them.

While building rockets, jets, and guns out of Legos, he told me that two 3s make six and three 2s make six but there are are no 3s in eight unless you add 1 to make nine. My head is spinning, how 'bout yours?

He has started a science journal (thank you for the idea PBS). In it he has been drawing pictures of the weather; Taping various treasures into it; And asking for help with the spelling of words like protoceratops and exoskeleton. He didn't need help with T Reks.

While at the book fair, he asked if he could use his money to buy an anatomy book. Because he likes looking at bones.

Please note: He is four years old.

Victory

2010-02-28T07:51:00.004-07:00

100,000 stitches.
6600 feet of yarn.
2200 cat heads.
23 Band Aids
16 days
3mm needles
1 finished sweater.

Ugh.

2010-02-26T06:00:00.000-07:00

I am sick of this color combination. Porcini and parsley?

I am thinking about the 10+ pairs of socks I want to knit by Christmas.

I am dreaming of spending an entire week NOT knitting.

I have watched more TV in the past twelve days than I have in the past two years.

I heard myself say: "No honey, I'm not going to play with you. I have to finish this sweater."

I may have been talking to the Businessman.

Can't Write. Must Knit.

2010-02-24T06:53:00.001-07:00

I'm at the part that looks like I'm almost done, but my rows are now almost 500 stiches long.

Luckily I lose a couple stitches every row.

Acceptance

2010-02-21T19:13:00.007-07:00

I'm still very, very sad. Sometimes I can smile and the tears have slowed. But I still double take every black object in our house, imagining it's my kitty.

Here's my knitting progress as of Sunday morning. I'm supposed to be halfway but I'm just shy. By about 124 cat heads (yes I counted).

The coincidence of knitting a sweater with 43,875 (that's a rough estimate) cats is not lost on me.

I do know he would have thoroughly enjoyed the process.

Grief

2010-02-18T10:19:00.002-07:00

My cat died this morning. We chose to end his suffering in the comfort of our home.

He was a wedding present from my husband.
He lived in three states.
He thought my pregnant belly was the best bed. Ever.
He hated other cats.
He wasn't scared of dogs.
He loved the Businessman.
He loved me.

I, crazy cat lady that I am, love this animal. This beautiful, secondhand feline who entered our home and our hearts.

Oh Clive. I miss you.

Set Back

2010-02-17T11:52:00.002-07:00

I took my cat into the animal hospital this afternoon. I never take my cat to the vet unless it's bad.

He's in an oxygen chamber right now waiting for the vet to examine him, and I expect I'm going to have to make a tough decision in the next day or two.

It's hard to knit when you can't stop crying.

Four Days Down...

2010-02-16T08:18:00.003-07:00

I'm realizing that I knit slowly. Maybe it's the 300+ stitches on my 3mm needles. Maybe it's the muscle twitch in my left eye. Maybe it's the knitting machine I set up proudly in my living room to show my mom, but haven't had time to take down because all my spare moments involve teeny weeny cat heads. And one torch.

While drudging through 45 7-stitch repeats my wandering thoughts figured out how I can do fair isle on my machine without a punch card.

Which means I can do whatever pattern I want. Not that these punch cards aren't appealing:

It also means that with every hand-knit Ravelympic stitch, I have to remind myself:

Cross country skiers could use a snowmobile to get where they're going.
Lugers, skijumpers, and bobsledders could use an elevator.
I could have knit this whole sweater on my machine.

But we choose not to take the easy way.

Tuesday morning. Day 5.

Olympic Knitting Day 1: Let the Games begin

2010-02-13T15:29:00.005-07:00

It's all about the glory right?

After a rocky opening ceremony in which the actual ceremonies were great but my ability to count to 336 was severely impaired by no fewer than eight women, a bottle of wine and tons of carb-rich snacks, I managed to knit 10 of my desired 27 rows and chat with my mom until 2:00am.

The next morning I realized my self-imposed knitting needle hiatus (due to a shiny new toy) caused my knitting callous to soften and crack open.

Luckily, like Lindsey Vonn, I will overcome my injury.

By early Saturday morning I was this far:

Stay tuned for more Ravelympic coverage.

Industrial Revolution

2010-02-12T06:00:00.000-07:00

During the Businessman's company Christmas party we were chatting with another couple about the "Ugly Christmas Sweater Contest." It seems the better half of the couple I was talking to had knitted the winning sweater. Some concoction involving an acrylic giraffe.

I mentioned there's nothing worse than intarsia gone awry.

Her eyes lit up at my obvious knitting knowledge. We talked shop for a bit but her interests have fallen solidly on quilting.

Which is probably why she made her husband drag a large load of equipment to the office. And then instructed the Businessman to take it home. To me. Purveyor of all things knitting.

A knitting machine. From the 1970's. And, once oiled, tuned, and dusted, in full working order.

This is why my blog has lapsed, my kids have no clean socks and I'm finally plowing through the 2000 yards of sock yarn I bought because it was on sale.

Amigurumi Crustaceans

2010-02-11T13:09:00.003-07:00

Almost three years ago I got my 6yo (who was almost 4 at the time) some hermit crabs.

The're still alive.

Just spending a few days gleaning all the information I could resulted in our household owning hermit crabs that have survived 3 years.

Mostly they bury themselves in the sand and I'm never sure exactly how many I have until I do the quarterly sweep through of the sand. I rarely get to see them. More often, I go into my son's bedroom at night and hear the creepy crawlies scuttering around, scraping their shells against the glass. It's amazing he hasn't had more bizarre nightmares.

I decided this pattern must be knit.

After all, it would be nice for the children to have a pet they could...well...pet.

These claws don't make horrible glass scratching noises.

Hermit Crab by Hansi Singh
Random scraps of sock yarn
Eyesight aging: about 25 years

Christmas Is Only 325 Days Away

2010-02-03T08:47:00.004-07:00

The knitting god(esse)s are mocking me.

I decided this Christmas (2010) was going to be the Christmas that I knit socks for everyone and they can all take it or leave it. I suspect a couple family members will become completely enchanted with handknit socks which will just make future holidays easier. Everyone else can remind themselves that it's the thought that counts.

My mom will probably get a sweater, because we're like that.

Armed with this decision, I went ahead and purchased some sock yarn, decided on some patterns and cast on. In January. Because this is smart and responsible for someone who wants to give well-made items eleven months hence.

And I'll be damned if I've gotten further than a cuff on any of them. I'm having gauge issues on my FIL's sock, learning curve issues on my BIL's sock...

...and I can't find the two magazines that have the patterns I need for ALL my ladies' sock patterns.

Vogue Knitting Holiday 2009 and Spring/Summer 2009, where are you? I know I had you two months ago. Where did you go?

In other news, I've discovered Bridges on the Body. This blogger is doggedly sewing her way through corseting history and it's total eye candy for me. A beautiful distraction from misbehaving socks.

ETA: Found my magazines. In the last place I looked.

Birds and Bees and the Meaning of Life

2010-02-01T06:00:00.002-07:00

Warning: What follows is a goofy story about parenting.

Vicious goes to a church-based preschool because it's cheap, close, and the curriculum is good. Quite frankly, we're not too choosy when it comes to preschool because it's PRE-school. If my kids can learn to interact with peers and respect authority then the mission is accomplished.

One thing about sending your kid to church-based preschool--the kid comes out trying to fit God into his little self-created universe. He's grasping the concepts of God being omnipotent, omnipresent, and possibly omnivorous.

A conversation in my car last week:

V: Did people make those cell towers?*
MM: Yes. Some people have the special job of building cell towers.
V: So God didn't make the cell towers.
MM: Oh crap, that's where this is going. Well...God made the people who made the cell towers.**
V: Then God didn't make the cell towers. So he didn't make everything.
MM: Think fast. When two people love each other very much...

That's correct. I decided to jump right into baby-making. Those questions I can answer. Plus, it's nice to use my biology degree every once in a while.

He corrected me by telling me God made babies.

*Cell towers are the tallest things in our town so he's enchanted.
**The Businessman is very Christian. I'm not, but feel it's better for the kids to learn something about spirituality rather than nothing.

Le Massif

2010-01-31T06:00:00.000-07:00

A mitered placket.

Carefully bound facings:

A grievous error in the form of a loop of yarn I failed to catch completely.

(But we'll just blame that on the cat.)

Without further ado, I give you:

Le Massif.

Don't know what the translation of Le Massif is. KJF? Can you help here?

Le Massif by Dale (dah LAY) of Norway design team
Knit Picks Telemark, 100% wool.

From Vicious

2010-01-25T06:00:00.001-07:00

Hello, my name is Vicious, Vish, and Vichyssoise.

Mom has been working on several projects. I help by trying to pick up the cat, hitting my big brother, and (my favorite) begging her to let me do a craft (she's a total pushover for wanting me to "explore my creativity" but I just like making a mess).

Saturday night, she got tired of working on bits and pieces so she decided to start and finish something.

And I got a new hat out of the deal.

I really like my new hat and as soon as she finished it (Sunday morning) I put it on and wore it the rest of the day. Except when I took it off to hide it next to the computer (she doesn't know about my facebook page).

I love my hat. The flaps keep my ears warm.

I do not love having my picture taken.

I'm a lot like my mom that way.

Peruvian Cap by Pam Allen
Noro Silk Garden (wool/silk) and Knit Picks Gloss (wool/silk)

You're Welcome

2010-01-24T06:00:00.001-07:00

Ravelympians (and anyone else though I have no idea who you'd be), feel free to use my ring chart.

Anyone doing the rings in cables?

Bearing the Torch

2010-01-23T06:00:00.001-07:00

Two and a half years ago I started and completed my Ravelympics 2008 project.

You can read of my shenanigans here.

During the general chaos of convincing my self repeatedly I-have-plenty-of-time-I'll-never-finish-on-time-yes-I-will-no-I-won't I decided to add an Olympic tribute into my work:

I was prepared for the IOC to hunt me down for using their logo without permission. What I wasn't prepared for were the ensuing Ravelry comments. It seems several knitters were very fond of the idea. I wouldn't be surprised if a few more rings sprout up during this year's Ravelympics.

Which means, I feel obligated to exceed expectations this year. You know, because finishing an entire colorwork sweater (with sleeves) in 17 days isn't merit enough.

But I'm prepared:

No, it's not the Olympic ice-cream cone.

In Which I Take The Ginghers To My Knitting

2010-01-19T06:00:00.001-07:00

I sewed my lifelines:

I sliced open my knitting:

Then I helped Yummy with his homework.

But what I really wanted to do is lie down in a dark room with a ~~bottle~~ glass of wine.

It's what Elizabeth Zimmerman would have prescribed.

Short Attention Span Crafting

2010-01-13T06:00:00.000-07:00

Today's smoothie:

Kale and red leaf lettuce loosely packed to top of blender
2 cups water
1 cup frozen cherries

Kept it simple today.

You may notice I never use bananas. That's because I don't like them. Their texture creeps me out and they tend to give me a upset stomach. They may do magical things to smoothies but I'll get my potassium from avocados thank you very much.

On the creative front:

I swatched for my Ravelympics sweater and hit perfect gauge on the first try! Hitting gauge on the first attempt is good luck. Remind me I said that when I'm teaching my children new words on the day the torch goes out.

Knit Picks Gloss in Parsley and Porcini, wool/silk

I'm working on a pair of yoga socks because my yoga classroom is always freezing. I don't mind exercising in the cold, but my feet have been cramping.

ShiBui sock yarn, Some pattern that came up in Ravelry when I searched free yoga sock

For some reason that escapes me, I purchased this Santa car kit on clearance. I'm not crazy about cutesy things like this but my kiddos liked it. I figure if I work one piece a day, it will be finished by next Christmas.

This needlepoint kit came to me about 7 years ago. I figure if I embroider one strand a day it will get finished. Sound logic in theory.

Which is more productive? Doing a little bit on several projects or just doing one project through to completion?

For me, it depends on my...

...ooh look, something shiny.

Dale of Norway and Detox

2010-01-12T06:00:00.000-07:00

Dale of Norway (it has been pointed out to me that it's pronounced DAH-lay but I still think of it as Dale because I'm American and it's the American way to mutilate cultural niceties) is blocking.* It has been blocking for three days. By the fireplace. Three days. You would think it would be dry by now. I'm waiting for the cat to sleep on it so I know it's ready to be sewn, cut, collared, placketed and zipped.

It looks like this still, only flatter:

My aren't we concerned about my green smoothies? Let me clarify.

I try valiantly to eat salads and fresh veggies but its a lot of work. I rarely make salads. I'm not proud of this, but there you go. If I make smoothies anyway (I tend to go through phases) why not toss in a handful of greens?

Today's smoothie:

Spinach loosely packed to the top of the blender
a few sprigs of cilantro and parsley
2 cups of water
1/4 small pineapple
4 frozen strawberries
1/2 cup frozen mango chunks

The 'detox' I'm experiencing is facial breakout. Whether from weather, hormones, stress or the sudden ability of my skin to push out the nasties, I was breaking out more than normal. I'm pleased to say my face is a bit clearer this week, though it still may be the weather, hormones or the moon aligning with Venus. My guess is it's the extra water.

I believe adequate fiber in your diet is the best way to cleanse the colon. As for internal cleansing, I think it's more of a healing thing. A plant based diet high in antioxidants is the best way to get your organs working properly. These smoothies provide both.

This is not a detox. This is not a cleanse. I'm making these smoothies to add more nutrients into my body. Sort of like a huge, slimy multivitamin except it smells nicer.

And I like them.

*Blocking for this sweater: I soaked it in body temp water with a little Eucalan wool wash for about 30 minutes, gently squeezed out most of the water, and patted it into shape on the carpet by the fireplace, which was turned on intermittently throughout the weekend. This both washes it and "sets" the stitches so they're more even.

Green Smoothies

2010-01-11T06:00:00.000-07:00

Though it's not my New Year's Resolution per se, I have been challenging myself to drink 2-4 cups of green smoothie every day.

What on earth is a green smoothie? Glad you asked. My versions are basically your typical smoothie, with a handful of greens and no dairy. The greens are important (bet you could guess that by the name) but not nearly as important as finding a good blend of fruit that will mask that "green" flavor until you're used to drinking them.

The general principle is that you're letting the blender to a better job of breaking down the tough greens than your relatively weak jaws. So the nutrients (green leafies have more nutrients per calorie than any other food) are easily and thoroughly absorbed into your system.

Obviously, the more fruit you add, the more calories are instantly absorbed into your system as well. I'm adding quite a bit of fruit still, both to make the drink potable (the kids have been taking nips and I'm encouraging this) and because the smoothie has become my mid-day meal and I feel I need the calories so I don't crash an hour later and eat all the chocolate and cheese in sight.

This morning's offering includes parsley, kale, romaine, a blood orange, frozen cherries and strawberries. Sometimes I add a dollop of almond butter, especially if I worked out that day.

They're not the prettiest things in the world.

How do I feel? To be honest, not that different. But they're just as easy to make as any other meal so I'm going to extend my challange to a month and see what happens. From what I've heard, they tend to be detoxifying at first but then your skin starts to glow, your hair and nails grow like crazy and your energy levels skyrocket.

I guess I'm still in the detox mode.

Sasquatch

2010-01-08T06:00:00.002-07:00

This last summer, my next door neighbor was bemoaning the fact that one of her 10 year old boys is wearing the same size shoes as her. I looked at my tall, gangly, 6yo Yummy with concern, and then looked at her tiny little feet and relaxed. I mean, how hard can it be for a boy to match his mom's size 6 or 7 foot?

I, on the other hand, have big feet (go ahead and mock them, I'll just look down on you from my towering heights as I easily reach the everyday dishes I store in the top shelf of my cabinets and notice your roots)(though I would never judge you for your roots because of the whole pot/kettle thing). It will be a long time before my kid can fit into my shoes.

Then again,

I may need to reconsider this sock knitting thing.

Or make sure some random photographer snaps a picture of us running through the woods of the Pacific Northwest.

Citius Altius Fortius

2010-01-07T06:00:00.001-07:00

Well, the bustle, noise, confusion and general angst of the Holidays are past, with the exception of Valentine's and Easter but we won't discuss those. As soon as my charming children started back to school, I was able to turn the page of my mental calandar ("mental" in several senses of the word) and saw, to my shock, that the Olympics are just around the corner.

Which meant I needed to decide on my event for the Knitting Ravelympics.*

I chose this Crazy Cat Lady Sweater. Because if you are close enough to me to identify that the sweater is hundreds of tiny cats, you already know that the only thing that stopped me from becoming a crazy cat lady prematurely was falling in love with my Biology lab partner when I was 18.

And then discovering he was allergic to cats.

Now I am simply a slightly delusional, one cat owning, wife and mother...

...who thinks she can knit this entire sweater in two weeks.

Let the games begin!

*Choose a project that would be a challange for you to complete while the Olympics are on. Cast on during the opening ceremonies. Finish before the torch is out.

Do Not Open Until Next X-Mas

2010-01-06T13:44:00.004-07:00

So...how are things?

I'm close to finishing this:

I've also placed an order for yarn to start my Christmas gifts for next year.

Because I've realized I can spread more love for less money if everyone just gets socks at Christmastime. Ski socks, yoga socks, dress socks, casual socks. Socks, socks, socks.

Remind me of this little delusion next December 23rd.

Santa Almost Got Coal Instead Of Cookies

2009-12-19T16:53:00.008-07:00

I'm going to try and play this off as an adventure in parenting, but it is a little heartbreaking.

The final Cubscout Pack Meeting (the monthly meeting with all the scouts from 1st -5th grade) of the year was Friday. The plan was to go caroling around the neighborhood and then come back to the school for hot chocolate. Come one! Come all! Bring your families!

After the delusion of caroling (one woman, living in a house gloriously festooned with Christmas lights, I-kid-you-not opened her door, slammed it in our singing faces, and walked as far from her door as she could, probably to call the cops...some of whom were with us.) we came back to the cafeteria for cocoa when who should come in but...Santa Claus.

Several of the younger children (you know, the ones who still really believe) ran over to him with eager faces because he's more famous to them than the Wiggles, Thomas the Train and Barack Obama and he told them:

"Sorry guys! I only have presents for Cub Scouts!"

And at least three of these little guys burst into tears. My Vish dejectedly walked back to me and told me he hated Santa.

He hated Santa.

I almost burst into tears with him.

In a flash of parental wisdom I pulled him aside, away from all the shrieks of the older kids who were getting their gifts, and told him that this was not the real Santa. He was a~~n Imposter~~ pretend Santa and the real Santa was far too busy to drink watery hot chocolate and give out pinewood derby kits.

After the meeting, the Packmaster personally apologized to me and, for me, the whole thing has blown over.

But I wonder if it was one of those moments that Vish will remember forever.

Pinecone Derby

2009-12-19T16:31:00.005-07:00

Among the other Christmas niceties like buying gift cards, discovering people don't like Starbucks (I know, right?!), buying other gift cards and watching the first season of Tru Blood while wrapping presents and knitting, I found this pinecone ornament tutorial.

And I realized that despite my Christmas tree having 427 natural pinecones (actually 419 because the very top of our tree broke off while we were trying to tie it to the car--the children learned some new words that day) I must make these.

Attempt number one, which was the one I made while baking cookies, shopping online, cleaning the house and watching Sookie Stackhouse devasating her natural supply of vitamin B12 (okay I was only doing one of those), was by far the worst looking one of the lot.

For starters, the egg is upside down:

I also didn't like so much color contrast and the "organic" feel of the scale layout. So I let the nerdy, mathy side of me take over and produced more:

I fear I can't stop. Except I must stop so I can knit (more) slippers.

The Stockings are Hung

2009-12-14T12:50:00.003-07:00

I decided everyone is getting socks for Christmas.

Next year.

This year my sock selection committee narrowed it down to three contendors:

Vish's teacher. Who is a knitter but is scared of socks.

Someone who occasionally reads this blog, So shall remain nameless (it's not you)(maybe next year).

(Yes they're that vivid)

Enlarged to show texture:

Someone who never wears socks, but has entirely too much sock yarn in her stash. She also likes green, has requested hair elastics from Santa, and hasn't blogged for over a month. She's also happy she decided to shave her legs this morning before an impromptu photo shoot.

What?

Basic sock pattern. Plymouth Yarn Sockotta; wool, cotton, nylon.
Ripple Weave Socks by Charlene Schurch. Brown Sheep Nature Spun Fingering; wool.
Lace Socks by Star Athena. Knit Picks Rissata, Cotton, wool, elastic.

I wish I Could Have A Winter Break

2009-11-19T12:55:00.003-07:00

Sorry about the hiatus. Between class parties, birthdays, holidays, vacations, and that mom gig I took on over six years ago, I have had very little time for the computer. In fact I have so little time, I'm forcing my tushie back into the gym so I can utilize that energy boost exercise gives you.

Except I'm in the you-have-to-take-a-nap-because-I-have-to-take-a-nap-argument-with-my-3yo phase of exercise.

I haven't even knit anything noteworthy.

I'll be back when I'm back.

The Menehune Were Here

2009-11-12T17:14:00.004-07:00

I'm back!

Muddy Mountain Mama's muddy arse doing muddy yoga in muddy hiking boots on the beach (which was not muddy)

True to form we only took about eleven pictures, and we aren't even in half of them.

These pics are from the cave at the Hanakapi'ai Beach off the Kalalau Trail along the Na Pali Coast.

We knew we had been reading too many Hawaiian words when we looked at a bar menu and wondered what AH-lay was. Spelled A - L - E.

We figured it out.

Over the next week or so, I'll be sharing stories about bad snorkeling, worse weather, Nazi Yoga, and the dead body we almost found (thank goodness we postponed our drive by three minutes for coffee--a local made the discovery instead of us). But overall...

...It was a great trip. It's just that the best parts of it are rather boring to write about.

The Iron Man Trimester

2009-11-10T06:00:00.003-07:00

The last time I was in Hawaii, I was on the Big Island. It was a business trip for the Businessman and I was 7 1/2 months pregnant with Vicious.

On the plane, I noticed that there were a lot of bald men with shaved legs but I was more concerned about my getting up to pee every 30 minutes and wishing I could have a Mai Tai. When we got off the plane, there were about 50 bicycles in baggage claim. Still nothing clicked. When we boarded our shuttle the driver asked me the following question:

Are you here for the Iron Man?

Great. I'm surrounded by lean, stringy triathletes and I look like I've swallowed a whale and have ankles the size of Pacific Northwest tree stumps.

The day before the race, I went to a shave ice stand and got shave ice over ice cream. A lady glanced at my order, did a double take and asked me if I knew the carb-to-protein ratio of my snack. Because she wanted one but didn't want it to affect her race.

Needless to say, I didn't care about the carb-to-protein ratio. I was making up for my Mai Tai deficit.

And eating for two.

Adventures in Basketweaving

2009-11-07T06:00:00.001-07:00

Once upon a time we took my nine month old son and his Oma, Mountain Mama's Mama, to Kauai.

And one night we decided to have an adventure.

I had fallen in love with the baskets woven out of palm fronds and I had just bought a book with instructions for said endeavor. My fingers were itching to give it a go. The only major problem we could see, was that we were staying in a well manicured area and all palm trees were on hotel property and in plain sight. Ergo, we needed to go into stealth mode to obtain a palm frond.

During our stealth maneuver we discovered a few things:

Most promising palm trees in highly manicured areas are well lit even at night
Palm fronds are remarkably tough. We had to go back to our condo for a knife.
Palm fronds can be over 15 feet long, which is a little obvious when you're walking down the highway.
Hiding behind palm fronds is not great camouflage if your mother-in-law bursts into laughter every time she looks at you.

But perhaps the saddest thing we learned:

Palm fronds from the south side of the island are not ideal for basket weaving.

We ended up going to the north side and buying a basket. The weaver pretended to be impressed by my lopsided attempt...

...But he was truly impressed that the Businessman was able to harvest a palm frond from the Sheridan Poipu.

Hawaii Honeymoon

2009-11-06T06:00:00.003-07:00

The first time I went to Hawaii I was on my horneymoon. It was as wonderful as any first vacation as a married couple should be. We were on Kauai where we rode in boats, helicopters, and a convertible. We chased geckos around our hotel (did you know they squeak like mice?). We ate in cheap local dives and snorkeled hours at a time. We did everything as a couple.

There was this one hike though...

Kauai is home to Waiamea Canyon, a grand canyon of sorts. The Businessman wanted to hike what he told me would be a quick little trek into the highest swamp in the world and then we could go back to the ocean. After driving all the way up the mountain to the trail head, we parked the car and started out.

We were halfway through our two year stint in Minneapolis so I wasn't yet conditioned to like rain. It was drizzling. I was dressed in a cotton jersey dress, which soaked through quickly, and flip flops. It was slimy and muddy, I kept slipping and I was getting more and more frustrated. TBM decided to run up ahead to see "if the clouds cleared up" and I waited by a tree for a few minutes. I got bored and started slogging my way up the trail and eventually found my new husband's shirt, jacket and our camera heaped in a pile by the tree. Fed up with the whole thing I grabbed his clothing and the camera and trudged my way back to the car. Whereupon I remembered he still had the keys.

I sat on the hood of the car for over an hour.

When he finally turned up, he was covered in mud from head to toe except for his teeth, which were quite prominent since he was wearing such a big smile.

"Oh, I'm glad you turned back. You wouldn't have made it. Did you grab my shirt?"

He kept telling me how amazing it was. So beautiful and he especially enjoyed sitting at the top of the mountain and watching the clouds form. It took the long drive down the canyon to calm me down enough to explain why he was such a jerk, abandoning me on our honeymoon. But I got over it.

When we flew back into Colorado, which was where the wedding was, we had a small luncheon at my parent's home where we unwrapped and cataloged wedding gifts. His mom, during the ritual debriefing I have since learned follows all travel, asked us what our favorite part of the trip was.*

I, being a newlywed, blushed. He said:

"Waiamea Canyon!"

I almost threw a blender at him.

His favorite part of Hawaii, his favorite part of our honeymoon, his favorite part of the trip that would start our marriage...

...The two hours he wasn't with me.

I'm back in Kauai now. I have no intention of climbing Waiamea Canyon.

*A word of advice: Never ask your children (or your parents) what their favorite part of the honeymoon, romantic weekend, or liaison was.

Answering Machine

2009-11-05T06:00:00.000-07:00

Today is my blogaversary. It's also my birthday and the day I leave for Hawaii, a trip that was booked nine months ago, to celebrate my anniversary, which was over a month ago.

I am blissfully ignoring technological marvels like highspeed internet, cellphones and global climate change. I am also blissfully carefree of children, email, and indigenous snakes (of which Hawaii has none).

I'll be back next week.

Aloha!

The Bends

2009-11-04T05:44:00.003-07:00

The Businessman is impossible to shop for.

Three years ago, I got him the perfect Christmas gift--Scuba diving lessons. He was thrilled. He was ecstatic. He has always wanted to learn to scuba dive.

He never took them.

A year and a half later, he decided he never took the lessons because there was no point in just him learning how to scuba dive, so he went and purchased a set of lessons for me too.

We never took them.

Now, he has decided it's pointless to learn to scuba when we never really go places where we could dive.

Like Hawaii.

Tired of knowing that we had $300.00 tied up at the scuba store (and very grateful the shop owner is lax about these things) we went on a mini shopping spree with our store credit and got gear we will use.

For snorkling. This Friday.

Which makes this story a round-about way of telling you I have no idea what to get him for Christmas

Mountain Mama's Costume Emporium

2009-10-31T07:59:00.007-06:00

ETA: Why yes, I do sell the Mantis costume...with improvements! Drop by my Etsy Store and contact me from there.

The Businessman is a wonderful guy. But sometimes I wonder what, exactly, he's thinking.

Really. I mean, he knows I have a blog about my creative pursuits. He knows my skill, my desire to use my skill, and my speed with my desire to use my skill.

And when Yummy asked to be a praying mantis for Halloween, I gleefully obliged:

Because that's what I do. Bend over backwards to prove to my children nothing is impossible.

But when Vish decided he wanted to be a skeleton the Businessman went to Walmart and bought this:

And then had the nerve to say he did it for me, so I wouldn't have to be bogged down with making two costumes. Because that's the point.

I'm sure it would have been laborous to buy a cheap, black sweatsuit, felt, and fabric glue.

I'm sure my version wouldn't have fit nearly as well.

I'm sure Vish would have loved my version as much as he loves this cheap, junky skeleton.

But...I'm sure mine wouldn't have glowed in the dark.

Choirs of Angels

2009-10-30T12:49:00.003-06:00

Even though the kids have no school today, the snow keeps them occupied with angelic thoughts.

I love that we got 15 inches of snow...a week before Hawaii. Perfect timing!

Socks Suck

2009-10-28T09:50:00.003-06:00

A million years ago, I bought a pretty little sock yarn while on vacation. It looked a little like this in the skein:

Then I wound it into a ball and it looked like vomit.

Devastated, I tossed it into my black hole of sock yarn. More recently I purchased a basic little sock yarn and also tossed it into the blackhole, but to my amazement:

The basic little sock yarn and the vomitrocious sock yarn became friends.

So, I cast on:

My daylight is a little bit lacking, what with the 15 inches of snow expected.

And when I was done with the first sock, my hands seized up in terror because ~~these socks used up a negligible bit of the puke-y sock yarn~~ I needed to make a second sock. Because the very thought of knitting another sock was a bit repulsive.

Which is what you've all been waiting weeks for.

However, sock recipient (Vicious) looked at m with his darling, too long, blond curls and asked when his socks would be done. And I thought it would sound heartless to say "When you start losing all that great hair" (which I predict will be in his mid 20's).

So I finished the second sock. And now I'm done. I never want to knit another sock again.

At least not until after I knit this. Because it's the most useless thing in the world but so friggin awesome.

(Insert Super Mario Music Here)

2009-10-24T06:00:00.000-06:00

The key to my freak speed knitting on socks is that they're not frilly, lacy, cable-ey patterns. Except for a few rows of rib at the top, and a slip stitch heel flap, the whole sock is stockinette stich. Which I can certainly do with my eyes closed and possibly with one hand tied behind my back (though that would slow me down).

It's a round about way of saying, I just finished another pair:

But even more pathetic. I did this (turns out I needed an 8-bit image):

In duplicate stitch with some spare embroidery floss I had lying around. Because Yummy asked me too.

I would never want my children to think anything was impossible.

Basic sock pattern from my head
8 bit mario image-Googled
Knit Picks Stroll Kettle Dyed in Soot, Superwash wool and nylon

Who Wants To Pay It Forward?

2009-10-23T06:00:00.001-06:00

Last December, I received a gift certificate for $15.00 to Cold Stone. But I don't like Cold Stone.

I know. No normal person dislikes Cold Stone. You'll just have to love me regardless.

I took Yummy on a date. I let him order whatever he wanted and then I told the clerk to use the remainder of my gift card on any following customers. Four more people enjoyed a small break from their pre-Christmas frenzy and had smiles on their face to prove it.

It feels good to Pay It Forward. My friend TinkerFrog posted about a Pay It Forward challenge the other day and I jumped at the opportunity.

Here's the deal. She is making something fabulous for me. I don't know what but she's already asked me what my favorite color is. In return, I will make something fabulous for the first three bloggers* to comment on this post. Technically, I have a year to put out, but more likely you'll get it sooner than that.**

In return, you will make something for three other bloggers, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah.

And all this tremendous karmic blogging will create World Peace.

*If applicable, I'll make a fourth something for the first commenting non-blogger. Also, US bloggers only please.
**Hello, Fate? Consider yourself tempted.

Sock-tober Fest

2009-10-22T06:00:00.001-06:00

First, I am pleased to announce that the recipient of the baby sweater has arrived. More importantly, he is small enough that the sweater is bound to fit him eventually. Unlike my ten-pound turkey who was too large for the hospital diapers, much less his hand-knit sweater.

Insert bad segue here.

Are we sick of socks yet? Anyone? Anyone?

Not me!

I bet you're shocked at the lengths I will go to so I don't have to knit on the Norwegian Sweater. If you feel an intervention is in order, please do it in the form of chocolate, coffee, or worsted weight yarn. Or cashmere in any weight. I could never knit a sock in cashmere.

I finished the first sock of this pair and showed it to Yummy, who put it on, marched around with it for a bit and then asked if I can make him socks with Mario on them.

Would you ask a woman holding five, FIVE, double pointed needles in her hands a question like that? Child, that is one sharp point for each or those toes I'm keeping warm.

ETA: The Businessman just told me the 16 bit Mario would work just fine. Like he knows anything.

What She Made Edition--A Little Halloween Bling

2009-10-21T06:03:00.004-06:00

Last night was Boy's Night Out, which actually means Mom's Knitting Night but sounds more fun to the kids. When I got home, the Businessman was cleaning the remnants of a nuclear reaction AKA my kitchen. I gave him a kiss, ran upstairs to kiss my kiddos and did a quick email check. One little email so enchanted me, I was glued to my computer for the next ten minutes.

The Businessman came upstairs, a little miffed that I didn't come down to ~~praise his cleaning skills~~ chat with him so I showed him what had been occupying my final waking minutes. I was instantly forgiven.

My Personal Illustrator added a little Halloween bling to my header.

I heart my PI. Twice now I've given her a vague request--"I want green, and yarn" or "can you stick a couple spider webs in the corners?"--and she has provided the perfect little image. Essentially she reads my mind, processes what she finds, and makes it better.

Anyone who can take the Mountain Mama Head Tour without serious psychological consequences must be an amazing person. Especially when I ask her to draw images of her biggest phobia (spiders not yarn).

Oh, and KRI, remember that idea we had almost a year ago that we've had to put on the back burner because we both seem to have lives? The answer is tidepools.

More Socks

2009-10-19T06:00:00.000-06:00

I am in a sock knitting frenzy. The only thing my hands want to knit is socks, on size 2 needles. For some reason size 2 makes the stretchiest, and fastest knitting sock.

These socks were knit on size 1s. Size 1 needles are 2.25 mm wide (about the width of pencil lead).

I used 2x2 ribbing the whole way, so they stretch wider than they look. The cuffs are 64 stitches around.

Yummy can't pull them over his heels. Someday I might post about the unfortunate foot genetics my (and the Businessman's) children have inherited, but not today. Vish (my younger, smaller heeled child) ended up with a new pair of socks.

These socks...

...use the same yarn but are knit on size 2s, which are 2.75mm wide. I used 48 stitches. Not only did it take me about a day and a half to knit these, but they are stretchy enough to go over Yummy's heels. I didn't have enough yarn to make them long enough for his feet (refer back to the ~~threat~~ potential post I mentioned earlier), so they went to Vish. Again.

There you have it. The universal laws of science rarely pertain to knitters. Decreasing stitches results in stretchier socks.

And if nothing else demanded my attention, I could knit 100 pairs of socks in a year. Stretchy ones that I could pull over my mutant heels.

But who needs 100 pairs of socks?

My own sock recipes
ONLine Supersock 100, wool and nylon I think.

A Soft, Pretty Thing

2009-10-15T06:00:00.000-06:00

As I mentioned before, the Yarn Harlot (finally) published her pattern for Pretty Thing which readers have been bugging her about ever since she had the nerve to post about how perfect her Pretty Thing was and how everyone should have something so nice. When the Yarn Harlot covets, aspires, or effbombs up, knitters around the world take notice. When the Yarn Harlot promises a pattern on her blog, knitters everywhere will salivate impatiently until she provides.

The Yarn Harlot has great power.

The thing is, at the time, though I thought it was lovely, I didn't really see myself wearing something like that. Then I found my kittens. Macanudo and Cohiba were born for just this sort of thing. But even my savvy math skilz didn't put the two together until YH (finally) published her pattern.

Thus Cohiba, lived up to her name and became a smoke ring.

It's pretty, yes. It's green, obvious. What you can't comprehend is how obscenely soft it is. Of course, this yarn is also obscenely expensive. But once you feel it, all sticker shock floats away in a puff of smoke.

Pretty Thing by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee
Filatura Di Crosa Golden Line Superior, 30% silk, 70% cashmere

What She Made Edition--A Baby Quilt

2009-10-14T06:00:00.001-06:00

Face Book has its advantages. For example, you come across a friend you haven't seen in years and she remembers you as always being a crafty, creative person so she starts reading your blog and decides if you have two kids and can knit a sweater in two weeks, then she can make a quilt in a weekend, because a book says she can.

Of course, she learned first hand about trusting book titles.

And she learned first hand why you should avoid giving yourself a deadline (especially one that you can't control).

But she also finished it. I'm pretty sure she didn't learn that here.

Missed deadlines aside, the baby is still a baby. And a lucky one at that.

Congratulations RD. You inspire me. To finish. Someday.

Hungry Bees Socks

2009-10-13T06:00:00.000-06:00

My ungrateful son, Yummy, had asked for socks with a dragonfly on them last summer. I barely accommodated by squiggling some yarn in a sock I was knitting and he was satisfied.

More recently I was browsing Ravelry and stumbled upon these Hungry Bee socks. I grabbed some random sock yarn I had lying around (does sock yarn breed? I swear I didn't know I had that much.) and cast on.

By the end of the day I was covered in hives.

Bee socks. Hives. Funny.

I was slightly feverish and I may have convinced myself that the only way I was going to get rid of the itch was to finish the socks. I may also have eaten copious amounts of honey, ran through the house in figure eight formations shaking my ass, and/or wore a crown on my head while speaking in a weird buzzing language.

It would explain why my family avoided me for five days. Then again, maybe no one else wanted to be sick.

I did make bees.

The day I finished, Yummy had a new pair of socks.

And I could finally walk across carpet without actively trying to scratch the bottoms of my ~~ridiculously ticklish~~ feet.

A good trade-off, but I won't be knitting these* anytime soon.

*Because I hate snakes. I'm sure the pattern is lovely.

I'm Feeling Much Better, Thank You

2009-10-12T06:00:00.001-06:00

Um, I sort of took a week off.

It wasn't because I was sick, though I was.

It was because I was in a knitting frenzy and I didn't want to admit it to you...because I didn't touch this Norwegian sweater:

This baby jacket:

Or This Hat:

I know you are all eagerly anticipating the Norwegian sweater, the baby jacket and This Hat, but I betrayed all of you.

Instead I finished these (for Yummy unless they are too small already):

Started and finished these (for Yummy):

And found it ironic that I broke out in hives on the day I started knitting a sock pattern called Swarm of Bees and didn't fully recover my normal, sallow skintone until the day I finished them. I became rather manic about finishing them.

I also started and completed these (for Vicious) in 24 hours:

They are not pink. They are like...um...flames. Yes, they are Fire Socks!

And I started knitting this (for me):

Because the Yarn Harlot told me to. And online knitters are like lemmings when it comes to the Harlot. I spend long hours praying the woman never decides to jump off a cliff.

Oh, and during it all, this happened:

Which means I (and my family) finally get to reap the benefits of knitting over 7 miles of wool over the past year.

Seriously?

2009-10-06T10:21:00.002-06:00

At the risk of revealing another psychosis but in hopes that someone out there will identify...

When you, as a woman, are sick, flat on your back and incapable of providing any form of care giving to yourself or your loved ones, there is one thought that you cling to. One thought that prevents you from actually wishing your body would just give up:

"I'm probably losing weight right now."

And even though you know that you will gain it all back the first day your body decides six servings of Stouffer's macaroni and cheese makes a fine meal, you have that one day when you finally feel good enough to go out in public and you wear your skinny jeans. Because they fit.

I woke up this morning thinking today was that day. Then I stepped on the scale, slithered back into bed, curled into a fetal position and sucked my thumb.

Because it is so unfair that I can spend four days eating nothing but the graham crackers necessary to keep my medicine down and still not lose a pound.

I'm so mad I could eat six servings of Stouffer's macaroni and cheese.

Benadryl, Cortosone, and Prednasolone Cocktails

2009-10-04T15:38:00.003-06:00

Mountain Mama is sick.

My anniversary started with a mild cold and ended with hives covering 50% of my body. Two days later, when my skin had become one giant mass of itchiness, I saw a doctor, who told me I had a cold and gave me drugs.

Forgive me while I recuperate. It's hard to type with these oven mitts on.

I don't even want to knit.

Oh yes, it's that bad.

Three Thousand Six Hundred And Fifty Three Days

2009-10-01T06:00:00.003-06:00

Ten years ago today, I began the biggest adventure of my life.

I married this man:

Whew! I'm pretty sure it's G-rated, but that picture makes me tingle.

He proceeded to ~~drag~~ lead me through hikes on mountains, swims in oceans, we have even walked the occasional paved sidewalk together.

We made babies.

Raspberries on Yummy Tummy

Vicious in the Skagit Tulip Fields

And got silly.

Curious George and The Man In The Yellow Hat

And sometimes we get to just laugh together. We've both grown and changed and we've learned from each other. I couldn't have done it with any other man.

I love you, Businessman.

Even if you keep mentioning "14 mile hike" and "vacation in Hawaii" in the same sentence.

You also might want to separate the phrases "birthday present" and "16 hours with the airline industry."

We can keep "Sunday mornings" and "yoga class" together.

Did I mention I love you? And that picture of you makes me tingle.

Sugar And Spice

2009-09-30T06:00:00.002-06:00

The baby receiving the benefits of my knitting talent these days (and is providing a nice little distraction from the Norwegian Sweater) will be the daughter of an old college friend. My friend was a forestry major and in the Army Reserves and resented anything that reminded her she was a girl.

She didn't want to be a man, mind you, she just hated being associated with female adjectives like delicate, curvy, and hormonal.

I lost touch with her for a couple years and then, in a mass email announcement, I learned she had eloped. Very shortly after that (I'm not trying to imply anything here, it was very shortly afterward) she got pregnant--a delicate condition that creates curves and oozes hormones.

With twins.

Boys.

And I knew the universe was unfolding as it should.

Now she is preggers again, but with a girl this time. Knowing her life is full of boyhood, and knowing she is the antithesis of girlygirl, I thought it might be nice to make this little jacket:

Smock Jacket from Celtic Knits by Debbie Bliss

...in a nice gentle and not very girly color. Like forest green:

Knit Picks Gloss in Parsley

But the green yarn I have on hand wasn't hitting gauge. So off the the yarn shop I went. And I saw this:

Patons Classic Wool in Currant

...and I knew my universe was unfolding as it should.

Or maybe I just need to take a break from green and blue.

Pumpkin Spice Lattes

2009-09-29T06:00:00.002-06:00

The first herald of my favorite season? It comes before the leaves change, before the mornings get nippy and before my cat starts sleeping under the covers with me...

...Starbucks' Pumpkin Spice Latte. Tall, nonfat, one pump for me please. Mmm. It appeared a few weeks ago.

At this point, the leaves are changing, the mornings are nippy, and I have lost all the bedspace I enjoyed during the summer. And yet another herald of autumn, which I had forgotten about, appeared in my grocery cart yesterday.

Behold:

The Pumpkin Spice Kiss. It's like my favorite drink made spillproof (albeit with less caffeine). I'm blissfully ignoring the ingredient list because I'm pretty sure it would depress me.

My favorite use for these babies?

I drop a couple in my morning coffee and stir until melted. Then I splash in my usual milk. It's not a Starbucks' Latte but it will tide me over. I also like to drop a couple into some warm milk and let the kids have Pumpkin Steamers.

Oh, by the way:

Looks like I have to go back to my Norwegian sweater. Until my order for this hat arrives.

Baby Sweater on Two Needles from Knitter's Almanac by Elizabeth Zimmermann
Dale of Norway Baby Ull, Superwash Merino Wool

Quality vs Quantity Quandry

2009-09-28T06:00:00.000-06:00

You may have noticed a lapse in my daily 'What I Made' feature.

In my heart, creativity keeps me happy.
In my head, going to the craft store three times a week was bad for my budget.
In my soul, I am a closet environmental extremist who got a little tired of all the waste.

So I've eased up a bit. I'll still create, and I'll still blog, but it will be fewer projects and more in-depth.

The quality of my photography will remain the same.

Maybe I shouldn't advertise that.

White Knuckles

2009-09-25T06:00:00.001-06:00

This hat is an emergency.

If I don't make this hat right now, my world is going to implode.

Even the Businessman agrees that this hat would complete me. Which made me fall in love with him all over again.

That's all.

The Baby Sweater Is In The Mail

2009-09-24T06:00:00.002-06:00

Sometimes it pays to know people.

Back in the day when I was child free and had a waistline I would take walks with my friend. Ever the entrepreneur, she would chatter about how much fun it would be to become a mom and we could write a book together that would be so successful we would wallow in luxury and never have to work again.

That's how I spun it anyway. She, ever the entrepreneur, will always have a business plan in her head and will never be able to not work. I'm finding many people are like that. I veer more toward dreams of perpetual housewifehood. Pie in the sky.

Back to my friend. About 28 seconds after having her baby she, ever the entrepreneur, had an idea (I also had deep thoughts after childbirth but they were too closely linked to lack of sleep, coffee, and privacy and, even if I could remember them, they were nowhere near as good as her idea).

She launched a business, Lots To Say Baby. Sadly, I was past pacifier age with my kiddos so I never had the opportunity to use her products. I encourage you to check out her site. Her pacifiers are in stores all over the country. My favorite is "Pull to Sound Alarm."

I lovingly suggested she make ones that said "This Sucks" and "What Stinks?" but she seems to have misplaced the contract regarding my royalties.

Anyway, when you spend more time knitting a sweater for a boy you haven't seen in ~~fifteen~~ a few years than you do helping your husband refinish the deck, and you discover the boy was in the Marines, you contact your friend and ask her to hook you up:

Because she's your friend (and an entrepreneur) and not because there must be some weird internal psychosis that causes you to spend all this energy on the boy who gave you your first kiss...

...but didn't bother to write in your yearbook.

Enjoy fatherhood Mr. Boy. Enjoying the sweater is optional. Thanks for the walk down memory lane.

Bread Making Q and A

2009-09-23T06:00:00.002-06:00

My oven is unreliable at best. Will tiles help?

Maybe, but the oven thermometer may help even more. I don't remember where I learned this, but self-cleaning ovens (the kind that burn all your spills to a small pile of ash that you wipe away) tend to be inaccurate. The first week I lived in CO I tried to cook a pan of brownies and 2 1/2 hours later they were still raw in the middle. I blamed the altitude. Several months later, I dusted off my thermometer and stuck it in the oven so I had more room in my gadget drawer. I noticed right away that my oven was off by 50-125 degrees.

The tiles are great for distributing, and maintaining heat. They take forever to preheat and forever to cool. If your recipe has lots of temp adjustments (cheesecake, roast beef, pie crust), you should pull the tiles out before you preheat.

Or, just blame the altitude.

I can never get bread to rise properly.

Define properly.

Is it too slow? Try turning your oven on for about 30 seconds and then turn it off. Let your dough rise in there. Does your dough have alcohol (usually beer) in it? That can slow things down (yeast don't like it much either). Is your yeast older? Did you proof it?

Even if your dough is slow, you might want to let it go at it's own pace. Some people keep their dough on the cooler side just so it takes longer to rise and develop good flavor.

Unexplainable: While I have had numerous instances of bread failing to rise, on two seperate occasions I have made bread that failed to rise AND later heard from other people that their dough failed to rise on THAT SAME DAY. Once was when I was at 8000 foot elevation and the other was at sea level. Wierd huh? I find the dough still makes decent pizza crust.

Can I use my bread machine?

I use a dishwasher, a treadmill, and premade piecrust and you're asking me if you can use a bread machine? Can I use your bread machine?

My Cubscout, The Popcorn Salesman

2009-09-22T12:00:00.000-06:00

I was both a Brownie and a Girl Scout in elementary school.

Fourth from the left. Looking awkward.

What's the first thing you think of when you espy Girl Scouts in their uniforms?

Cookies of course! Girl Scouts has the best door-to-door sales campaign going. Regardless of the fact that cookies no longer run $1.75 per box, people still anticipate the day the Green Berets show up in February so they can order their Thin Mint fix. Then, once the goods are delivered, they show up at the entryways of grocery stores everywhere and you can't resist one more box of Tagalongs, Samoas, or Do-Si-Dos.

Did you know there are two different bakeries? And they have titled their cookies differently? When I lived in Minneapolis I had access to both batches and I assure you, the ones with the cute names are superior. No Peanut Butter Patties for me. Give me Tagalongs or go away.

Anyway, there's a point. My son has joined Cub Scouts. Also, after suffering almost a month of disorganized meetings, the Businessman decided to take matters into his own hands and became the Den Leader (the Businessman can't stand it when people show up to meetings unprepared). Which means I must get onboard and support the pack's popcorn sales drive.

Popcorn? Girl Scouts have the epitome of mass marketing, supply vs. demand, and Green Beret tactics and Boy Scouts sell popcorn?

Yes, I guess they do. *sigh*

How can you resist such a smile?

Here is the place to go for online orders: http://trails-end.com/
His scout number (which you will need so he gets credit): 2913416

If you are local to Ft Collins, feel free to email me (in my profile) and avoid the shipping charges.

Might I recommend the Military Donation? It's what I've done in the past, before I had a house full of sugary, chocolatey popcorn.

And you never know what I might do to thank my readers for supporting this special little scout.

But I'm sure it involves yarn.

Something In The Water (But Not My Water)

2009-09-22T06:00:00.001-06:00

My Norwegian Sweater is a chore. How do I know this? It's 49 degrees and rainy outside--perfect knitting weather--and I can't stand the thought of it.

I do have the desire to knit another baby sweater. For a girl this time. I even know the mother a little beyond Facebook, though we never kissed. I'm thinking Elizabeth Zimmermann's February Baby Sweater will do nicely (I've made it in coral here).

I'm begging you, my loyal readers, please don't think of it as betrayal. I'll go back to Norway soon. With a yarn color called "Fjord" it can't repulse me too much longer.

Fair warning--I'm also wondering if I should knit her this one too:

From Celtic Knits by Debbie Bliss

Bread Making Part 5: The Need to Knead--Results

2009-09-20T19:11:00.004-06:00

No it didn't really take me a week to bake a loaf of bread.

*sigh*

Truth be told, I was a bit disappointed in the visual results of my two breads. With the exception that the kneaded loaf seemed to spread more (which is likely to be due to a small variation in the liquid content) the two loaves looked unremarkably similar. Even when I cut into them.

What was different was the texture. The unkneaded dough had a denser feel. It was the kind of thing you could choke down, but you'd want ample water to swill. The kneaded loaf was spongier. It felt like it had air in it.

What really struck me as strangely bizarre?

As the afternoon wore on into the evening, we were all taking slices and snacking. I sliced both loaves and no one in my family knew there was a difference between them. I assure you, no one in my household has any qualms about eating from a new loaf when there is a half-eaten loaf sitting next to it. This is supported by the eleven open boxes of cereal in my pantry.

By the end of the evening, the kneaded bread was gone, but the unkneaded bread, though picked at, was ignored.

Very interesting.

Anyway, we can safely assume kneading is important, because all the bread books tell us so. The next time you make bread, observe your dough. How does it feel when the dough comes together? How is it different after five minutes of kneading? Ten minutes? When it windowpanes?

My favorite bread, Ciabatta, makes a sticky dough that clings around the hook and leaves a three inch 'puddle' of dough in the bottom of the bowl. After a few minutes, the dough makes a vertical blob that travels around the side of the bowl and the puddle is a bit smaller. In another five minutes the dough forms a ball around the hook and makes 'arms' that slap the bowl a few times before incorporating themselves back into the ball.

Guess how many times I made Ciabatta before noticing?

Practice makes perfect.

You've had some questions regarding breadmaking. I'm not professional, and I'm not even that experienced, but I'll try to answer them soon.

Bread Making Part 5: The Need to Knead

2009-09-16T06:00:00.000-06:00

Today's experiment involves the importance of kneading or, in my case, hiring your favorite ~~thug~~ kitchen appliance to abuse your dough.

My bread today is a simple wheat bread with both store-bought yeast and sourdough starter. Why? Because (for the experiment) I need the assurance of the quick rise, but I want the flavor of the sourdough.

Especially since, as I write this, I realize I forgot the salt. I always forget the salt. I think there is some synapse in my brain that makes it physically, mentally, and biochemically impossible for me to remember the salt.

It might explain my blood pressure of 106/60.

First I proofed the yeast. This is entirely optional but if you have had rising problems I recommend it. Plus it makes for a good experiment.

In 2 cups of (room temp to lukewarm) water I added 2 T of sugar and 1 T of active dry yeast. I swirled it to dissolve the sugar and I swirled again about 30 seconds later to dissolve the softened yeast.

After 5 minutes, there is a foam of bubbles on the top. If I let it sit a little longer there would be a froth of bubbles. Bubbles are the best way to know your yeast is alive. I've looked into teeny tiny heartrate monitors but apparently yeast doesn't have a heart.

Don't tell it that though.

Two balls of dough:

Each consists of:

1 cup bread flour
2 cups white whole wheat flour
3/4 cup sourdough starter
1 cup of your yeast mixture
1 t salt (if your synapses are fully firing)

The first batch I kneaded in my mixer just until the ingredients combined (about 3 minutes on level 3 speed)

The second ball I kneaded for 12 minutes on level 3. That's how long it took for the dough to windowpane.

Huh?

When I try to stretch batch #1 it pulls apart like playdough.

But when I stretch out batch #2:

It makes a windowpane. If I had used only bread flour (or white flour) I could stretch the pane so thin I could see through it. This bread has whole wheat in it. The bran tends to cut into the windowpane so it tears easily but it's still there.

What makes the windowpane? Anyone?

Correct! Gluten. Gluten, after being bullied around for 12 minutes, decides to unite with its friends and fights back. It makes dough springy and elastic and all those little windowpanes inflate like balloons when the yeast continues its little bubble making party.

Later, we'll compare the two different loaves.

It's Time To Knit Some Norway

2009-09-15T06:00:00.000-06:00

I had asked you what my course of action should be regarding the Norwegian sweater (and the fact that it's using needles I need for something else) and I never really told you the results.

I had always suspected my project ADD was normal. I mean, don't we all have unfinished business lying around the house, consuming our thoughts, eating at our souls, and gnawing on our fingernails?

Yes, I'm still talking about crafting. Why do you ask?

But, according to the results of my poll, you want me to go against my nature and finish something. Again.

I have drawn two conclusions:

1. I am abnormal . . . I mean . . . I'm weird . . . um . . . wait . . . You (there we go, I'll throw the blame on you) are all people who finish everything you start and don't start anything new until the first project is finished. People like you don't have storage issues, stashes, or brutally chewed fingernails and you want me to share the zen-like tranquility you exude.

or

2. The idea of finishing a project is so amazing to you, that you cannot even fathom such a thing happening in your own homes. Therefore, you want this potential warp in the time continuum to happen in my house, on my watch and you'll simply enjoy the show.

Brutal I say. You people are brutal.

I started the sleeves. Either way, it's my only course of action.

Daring Cooks Challenge: Indian Dosas

2009-09-14T08:11:00.004-06:00

The Daring Cooks was hosted by Debyi of The Healthy Vegan Kitchen. She embraced alternative cooks everywhere by giving us a vegan, gluten-free, 99% oil free challenge: Indian Dosas. Click the link to get the recipe.

I learned a dosa is a pancake:

Which I stuffed with a garbonzo bean filling:

And topped with a curry sauce:

Like so:

They were good. I felt the filling was too salty, which may have been my bad because I used garbonzo beans from a batch I cooked up a couple weeks ago and froze. I don't remember if I added salt to them and didn't taste them before I used them. Oops.

I make Indian food about once a week--it's condusive to a vegetarian diet--and I loved having pancakes instead of rice for a change.

That said, my family prefers the dal I make from How To Cook Everything Vegetarian by Mark Bitman. You know, one of those recipes that takes about five minutes to whip up and then you let it simmer for a bit and it's done.

*sigh*

They appreciate a good adventure, they just don't appreciate the dish clean-up. Which makes no sense at all since I washed all the dishes.

Thanks Debyi for the recipe. The pancakes are a keeper!

An Un-Profit Business Model

2009-09-12T06:00:00.000-06:00

The Businessman is onboard with my "Big Idea." He didn't see the need to take me seriously until he saw I was using my Excel skilz (one of the few things I can contribute to a business). Unfortunately he told me to write up a profitable business model and I'm failing. Spectacularly.

I have such a great plan...until I crunch numbers. From what I hear investors like numbers. Especially when they have lots of zeros behind them and no negative sign in front of them. They're so picky.

I should have learned web development. Biochemistry is pretty useless right now.
I should have made more geek friends when I lived in Seattle, where they grow on trees.
I should do some more market research.

I am not giving up. I still have a Businessman.

Mozzerella

2009-09-11T11:59:00.005-06:00

I made mozzerella last weekend. Twice. And I just made it again.

I read Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and in it is a recipe for 30 Minute Mozzerella.

It's really easy. In fact, the hardest part was finding the ingredients.

Citric acid: I found at Vitamin Cottage
Rennet (vegetarian): I found in Whole Foods, in the string cheese section.
Milk: Anywhere really. If you have access to raw, I hear that's best.

Then you follow the instructions.

After adding the citric acid, the milk starts to curdle:

After the rennet, it looks like cottage cheese:

After draining off the whey:

Kneading:

And stretching (note how rough it looks here):

And the really hot stretching (it gets a lot smoother and shinier):

After this, I cut it into pieces and used it in calzones, and shared it with Yummy, who declared it tasted just like string cheese, and ate some myself. Then I realized I had none left, so I went to the store and got some more milk. The second batch I cut into pieces and marinated in olive oil and crushed chilis.

I probably should be a bit concernaed about consuming 3 gallons of milk's worth of cheese, but surprisingly I'm not.

Where are those tomatoes? And my basil?

Eight Years Ago

2009-09-11T08:47:00.003-06:00

Someday, my kids may come home with a homework assignment in which they ask me where I was on September 11th, 2001. My story will be boring.

The Businessman and I carpooled to work and we always listened to NPR. When we turned on the radio that day there were several brief interviews and they kept mentioning the World Trade Center and bombs.

I thought it was the anniversary the the WTC bombings and they were re-airing some of the coverage.

Then the Businessman said "This is real."

A plane had just crashed at the pentagon, then the second WTC plane crashed. The first tower collapsed as I got to work.

Productivity was low that day. I had no friends or family in New York or DC so I did what comes naturally to me in times of crisis: I calm down and try to stay out of the way. It was easy to do in Seattle. A few co-workers were distraught. Some had loved ones on the East Coast and couldn't contact them. Others were simply wishing we could all go home early so we could watch the news.

Once I got off work I met a friend at a favorite hangout. Gradually our husbands joined us and we spent the evening discussing the events of the day, while the TV continued its broadcast.

I didn't feel scared. I didn't feel hate. I felt sad. Sad that people were so quick to judge, alienate, and retaliate. Sad that so many innocent Americans had reason to be scared, simply because of their religion or where they were born.

Sad that it takes such a tragic event to unite people.

Steeks

2009-09-09T10:41:00.003-06:00

I'm taking a hiatus from bread today. My kiddo is sick, it's hot outside and, most importantly, I just finished cleaning my kitchen.

I finished this part of my Norwegian sweater last night:

One of you asked what this is, because it looks a little blobby. It's blobby because I have steeks in it.

What are steeks?

Steeks are place markers to show you where to later cut your knitting.

Go ahead and hyperventilate a little. I'll wait.

Steeks are most valuable in colorwork. It's much, much easier to knit colorwork from the right side (as opposed to the wrong side, not the left side) so most colorwork patterns are written to be knit in the round, which makes a giant tube.

But, last time I checked, most humans aren't worm shaped. We have arms, shoulders and heads smaller than those shoulders. And that's where steeking comes in.

Instead of shaping for a neck and armholes, and thereby knitting back and forth, I just do a little shaping and add a steek.

Once the knitting is finished, I stabilize the steek a little (via machine sewing, or crochet) and then cut it up the middle:

After cutting, it's nice to lie down in a dark room with a glass of wine.

When you decide to inspect your work, you will find the knitting did not unravel into a pile of ramen noodles, but has exposed your nicely shaped neckline:

Or sleeves, or placket, or pocket opening. I have five steeks in this blob: two sleeves, front neck, back neck, and placket. When they are all cut, the piece will resemble a sweater.

Steeks aren't hard, but they go into the cache of advanced knitting techniques because of the confidence you have to have. But I promise you, even a beginner can slice apart their knitting.

Or a three year old.

Bread Making Part 4: Where's The Gluten?

2009-09-08T12:32:00.005-06:00

Voila!

I'm waiting on a delivery (not the mother's) and then I'll wrap this puppy up, ship it out and call it done!

Today's bread lesson is about a protein in wheat called gluten. Gluten is an important feature of your bread dough. If you don't knead your dough enough, you won't activate the gluten and your dough won't rise well. I'm sure it's possible to knead dough too long, but I've never witnessed it. And I tend to leave my mixer running a while.

I realize not everyone is the closet chemist I am, therefore I'm going to do an experiment today, so you don't have to. I'm going to extract gluten from flour.

In my mixer, I added 1/2 cup water and 1 cup flour (I used bread flour, but regular white flour will work too). I let it ride for about ten minutes. Then I gradually added more water.

And it started looking like paper mache paste. Yum.

I kept mixing and adding more water (about three cups) until it was very runny. Then I plunged my hands into the glop and fished around for lumps:

And there it is. Stretchy, sticky, ugly gluten. Before motherhood, I would have been a little grossed out by this. Now I have children.

Boys.

And, actually, I buy gluten flour (called Vital Wheat Gluten) and use it to make vegan meat substitutes.

But don't you think it's kind of cool to see that flour is more than just flour?

Bread Making Part 3: Loving Your Starter

2009-09-04T06:00:00.000-06:00

So now you have a lovely little starter percolating (or you will in a couple days). I don't know about you, but after all that work, I want this guy to stick around for a while.

Remember, this isn't scary. Your starter is simply a way to store and have a steady supply of yeast. Sure it's futzier than those packets of yeast, but it's just yeast.

Yeast that either needs to be fed constantly, or forced to take a nap.

Ideal situation: You use part of your starter to make bread, then you continue to feed the remaining starter until you make more bread (in a day or two).

or

You make up a batch of dough using all your starter and break off a lump of dough (before you shape your loaves but after the first rising) which you pet and love and call George and knead into tomorrow's bread. When I try to do this, I usually forget to pinch off my George and he ends up in the oven. One sure way to kill George is to bake him.

or

You make your bread using some of your starter. Feed the remaining starter and stick in a jar (I use a pint jar) in the fridge where it will gradually cover itself in grayish liquid and go dormant. You can keep it dormant for months this way, but when you need it again, it will take a couple days of room-temp feeding to wake up.

And for the adventurous among you: If you fiddle with your flour to water ratios, say two parts flour to one part water, your starter will become less sour. If you leave it as a dough, it will be even less sour.

The kitchen is all about chemistry experiments.

Tomorrow, or once I remember to take pictures, we will make our first loaf of sourdough bread.

Well...I already ate my first slice with dinner. Then I toasted some the next day. But you can make your first loaf.

Bread Making Part 2: A Sourdough Starter

2009-09-03T06:00:00.000-06:00

I've finished the sleeves of the baby sweater and now I'm knitting the collar. It should be done in a week (or less...or more).

A starter is a good step for aspiring breadmakers to learn. Basically, it's a source of live yeast. The yeast you get in packets or in a jar is dormant--it needs a little moisture and food to activate. But a starter contains active, hungry yeast that need to be fed. You can keep a starter for months, years, decades. And I'm sure someone has one that dates back to 4897 BC.

Or you could be like me and, once again, kill off your starter (by freezing it over a year). Which simply means you have to start the start of a new starter.

Sourdough starter has yeast and other lively critters that give it it's pleasant tang. The acidity helps prevent less desirable critters from taking over. Every microclimate produces a slightly different flavor and ordering a starter from one locale is pointless, as your local microbes will make it what it should be for your location.

There are several ways to make starter, this one is my favorite because it's simple and sour.

My Sourdough Starter:

3/4 cup flour, preferably organic but not necessary (white, wheat, rye, anything that has starch)
3/4 cup water

Mix together in a medium bowl (you'll be adding to it as the days go on). Cover loosely. Note the general time of day (i.e. morning, evening, cocktail hour).

The next day, at about the same time, add 1/2 cup flour and 1/2 cup water. Mix thoroughly. Cover loosely.

After feeding. It's not pretty but it's alive.

Repeat the above feeding for 3-7 days until one of two things happens:

1. Your starter smells nasty, has a pinkish tinge, or just sits there. Throw it out and start over.
2. Your starter smells sour or beer-y (sniff all the sourdough bread at the grocery store next time you're there). It's bubbly and asks for it's daily meal.

On second thought, if your starter talks to you, you may want to step away from the breadmaking altogether and move on to homebrewing. Or hydroponic gardening.

Tips:

It happens faster if it's warmer.
It's okay if a little clear, grayish or brownish water separates out. If the water is pink (and smells rotten), toss it.
If you don't trust the process, add the tiniest pinch of yeast at the beginning (like 1-2 grains).

Next post, we'll discuss care and feeding of your new bundle of joy.

Bread Making Part 1: Equipment

2009-09-02T08:01:00.005-06:00

Don't forget to vote (for my colorwork sweater) if you haven't yet.

I'm making sourdough bread as I type this. There is a heavenly, beery-yeasty-sour sort of smell eminating from my kitchen.

And it occured to me that I haven't really shared any of my bread making expertise with you.

A year and a half ago, I challenged myself to bake all our bread from scratch, including tortillas. I managed to go six weeks before tortillas broke me--they were awesome if they were eaten directly off the griddle, but became hardtack after about 23 seconds. I continued baking bread for another month or so, but the Businessman rebelled with a loaf of Wonder.

Besides (re)discovering that the Businessman is a simple, simple man who just wants squishy white bread that tastes like glue. I learned a lot.

My essential equipment:

Celeste, my KitchenAid Mixer-A huge thank you goes out to KH who convinced the Businessman, seven years ago, not to get me a microwave for Christmas. But hand-kneading is great if that's what you want.

Cheap clay tiles-from the hardware store. If they cost a buck each, they're pricey. I never remove them (unless I need the second rack). They do wonders for your oven temperature and simulate good old-fashioned clay ovens.

Oven thermometer-At the best of times my oven is horribly inaccurate (as most self-cleaning ovens are). The tiles effect the temp too so an oven thermometer is crucial.

Beyond that, all you need are flour and water. Oh yeah, and salt. I always forget the salt. Bread made without salt is sort of pointless. Unless you have a dungeon and are preparing prisoner's rations.

Tomorrow, we'll start by starting a starter.

Choose My Own Adventure (Again)

2009-08-31T09:24:00.006-06:00

Seven months ago, the Businessman booked us a trip to Hawaii. We leave early November.

I might have mentioned to him that nine months seemed a bit too enthusiastic. I mean, technically he could have knocked me up the night he made the reservation and I could have puked every morning for 200 days, created 23 new stretch marks, waddled around with knee, calf, ankle and back pain for 120 days, watched my feet increase another size, writhed for 20 hours to produce a child and then still would be able to slurp lava flows on the beach.

Except I would have been too busy finding a hit man for the urologist.

So much can happen in nine months.

Not that I didn't slurp lava flows last time I was in Hawaii-7 1/2 months pregnant. I just asked them to leave out the liquor--a request I will not be making this time around.

And now I realize I only have two months. Two months to figure out what size I'll be when I board the plane. Two months to realize no one sells swimsuits in November. Two months to clean the house stem to stern so my in-laws don't feel the need to ~~poke around~~ clean while they watch my kids.

Two months to decide which knitting project I should bring.

But, since I'm very much enjoying having my readers choose my projects, I see no reason to stop now.

1. Venezia by Eunny Jang in the harvesty colors I've been teasing you with:

(click pic for Interweave link)

2. A lace shawl. I have two started. One has larger needles but uses beads, the other is on needles thinner than pencil lead.

3. I have a tough time finding knitted hat patterns that don't squash my hair and make me look pea-headed. I'm thinking I need a beret of some sort.

4. It will be my tenth anniversary celebration. Perhaps I will be too busy to knit?

Never mind. I've been married for ten years and really...we already live at a mile-high elevation.

5. Socks. The kids always need socks.

The poll is up on the left. You can vote anonymously.