The Baby Sweater Is In The Mail

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 Part 4: Where's The Gluten?

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?

You Heard It Here First

You know how you see a wildly successful business with a really simple idea and you wish you had thought of it? I had one of those ideas yesterday. An idea that's simple, yet potentially huge.

I've been pitching the Businessman for the past 24 hours.


Look. I bought a zipper.

And it's nothing like the idea I pitched to him when I was pregnant with our first child. That idea was to set up a gym that hooked all the machines into the powergrid so the energy used during the workout could be converted into electricity.


I'm interfacing with polka dots to hide the fact the zipper doesn't match.

I still like that idea, it would solve so many problems; obesity, crude-oil dependancy, office productivity...oh wait...that was my idea that cubicles should be set up with treadmills so employees could walk or jog while they work.

I couldn't sell TBM on either of those. In fact, he still makes fun of me. Something about gerbil wheels.

But if those treadmills were set up so they powered the computers...


Baby sweater being blocked.

...hmm...I'll have to come back to that one.

I'm close to selling TBM my latest idea. It doesn't involve treadmills, but it could be big. Provided I can assemble the right team...


The mountains, a mama, and yoga on the rocks.

...Starting with a Businessman.

The Black Hole

My deck looks lovely. It really does. The Businessman did a great job.

Look! Water beads on the newly finished surface!



But...

Okay, just one little complaint.

We haven't done the stairs yet, and we may not until Spring, which makes this a great before and after picture:



Before: wood absorbed water like a sponge. After, water beads on top of wood.

Before: night time rainfall was dry by 8:00 am. After: deck still isn't dry until mid-afternoon.

Slippery when wet. Just ask the kids.

In other news, it's the first week of school, so free time has been limited. I've been trekking on the Baby Sweater while I wait for the results of the Choose Your Own Adventure I've got going on the side bar (don't forget to vote).

In working on the Baby Sweater, I met the Black Hole.

I read the pattern and knew I needed to knit on the front until it measured 8 inches. At about 7 inches I found the Black Hole. I knit about six more rows and measured: 7 inches. I knit another few rows and measured: 7 inches. I knit 1,287 more rows and measured again: 7.25 inches. I put it in time out and went to bed. When I pulled it out the next morning:



Eight inches. Yes! Time out works better on knitting than on 3yos. I pulled out the pattern to see what I should do next and read:

Buh, buh, buh, buh...Knit as for back until piece measures 6 inches. Begin neck shaping...

*screech*

Six inches?

*mumbling* Stupid black hole. *yanks out needle* Stupid elves who change numbers in patterns. *starts ripping*

You'd think gift knitting would be a little more immune to rookie mistakes.

Deck, Vestes, And Baby Sweater Status

It took the Vestes three days to dry while it was blocking. Seriously. I got desperate and put it out on the deck all the while promising myself I would bring it in once the Businessman started sanding.

Oops. You can see it on the leftmost railing. Downwind from the Businessman. The half naked, sweaty, well-sunscreened, Businessman.



The Businessman threatened to pull me over his knee and spank me if I didn't take a picture of our lovely, freshly sanded deck.

I was tempted to let him.

I'm feeling a little attention deprived since he's spending all his freetime with the sander and powerwasher. Getting all dirty and sweaty...and hot.

What I He Made (so far):



If I spent that much time getting exfoliated and cleansed I'd look pretty good too.

Now we wait for a 24 hour dryspell so we can apply stain/sealant. Colorado, I apologize in advance as this guarantees at least two weekends of rain.

What I Made:

I had three days of baby knitting. I should block my wool in a damp basement more often.



The baby sweater is coming along nicely don't you think?

My First Kiss

In fifth grade, I started going out with a boy. Going out entailed...well...nothing really. It was fifth grade and we were still mostly innocent. Kids paired off as only kids barely out of cooties can.

But, back to the boy. Over the years, we had your basic cootie-ridden relationship. I crushed on him when he hated me. He liked me when I pretended to ignore him. I bloodied his nose once. You know, the usual childhood memories.


Dale of Norway Baby Ull. Machine washable merino wool.

And in fifth grade it all came together, so we started going out. One day, some of the couples decided to spend recess getting married. Jon McEuen (shameless name drop...sorry) was the officiant--no one thought to check his credentials--and my boy and I exchanged vows.

And we all know a marriage ceremony ends in a kiss.

He broke up with me the next day.



It knocked my self esteem as flat as my chest and I never kissed another boy until I met the Businessman. *snort* Okay, even I can't hold a straight face at that last sentence.

From what I see on Facebook (and we all know how reliable that is) Mr. Boy seems to have grown up and has a baby due in October. He expressed incredulity that I would partake in such an old-fashioned hobby (proving he never really got to know me at all in fifth grade) and so, in retaliation, I am knitting him a baby sweater.


Sized for six months

It's how I work these days.

My other option would have been to avoid kissing knitting altogether until a truly wonderful frog person worth my kissing knitting expertise came along. But knitting for frogs is just not going to happen.

Kissing for sweaters...that has potential.

Estes Vest: The Baby Sweater Detour

So. I'm blocking. I wet the pieces, pinned them to their proper size and shape and now I could twiddle my thumbs while they dry, which will take a day or two, or in the meantime I could knit...

What? Oh come on! I'm allowed to start another project while I wait for this one to be workable again. It's my blog.

...as I was saying...I'll be knitting a baby sweater.

What I Made:

What I'll make is a cabled version of this, which I designed and knit poolside in Hawaii while drinking virgin lava flows (I was 34 weeks pregnant):



I even considered just giving this one, which I knit for my Vicious, who had the audacity to be a ten pound newborn and therefore, too large for his lovely Cashmerino sweater.



Now you know why we call him Vicious. My goodness look at those hands.

As I said, I would give away this sweater, but it's handwash. While I'm a knitter and regularly handwash things, I couldn't do that to a new mom. So new, machine washable sweater it is.

Not that the Vestes hasn't been a great ride and all, but I can't wait to start this.