Le Massif

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 an 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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!