Adventures in Purple

This week, I seem to have been knitting purple things.

I had a pair of socks that I called "Sock Wars Surplus." I started these thinking it might be a good idea to have some Sock Wars weapons handy, in case I ended up with a target but no yarn passed up to me. But when plans gelled for visiting my friend Heidi this weekend, I decided I wanted to bring her some knitted love, and these socks were handy. So they became hers. (The color isn't coming through on this -- it's the same purple yarn as Mike's sweater).

Had a great time with Heidi and her family. Here's Heidi, modeling her chocolate pumpkin cheesecake (Sock Wars Surplus on the counter in the background), and her son Bradley, trapping my feet.

Heidi's other son Connor scored his first goal of the season that morning in soccer.

Also this week, I made some experimental dishcloths out of purple cotton: a small hexagon and a larger octagon. (My camera is turning these blue; they're really purple). Listsib Gary got me thinking about these, with his instructions to start a dishcloth by casting on 15, increasing each row until the sides are about as long as the cast-on edge, knitting plain until the sides are the same length, then decreasing back down to 15 stitches before binding off.

And finally, I decided to try making a clapotis. It's kind of fun, but I don't think this is the right yarn for it.

Another crown

Still trying to make a King of the Wild Things crown that will actually fit a kid. I like the idea of the pattern, but I just can't get the gauge right -- my crowns inevitably are too long and too narrow. The latest, the XL size knit in Lite-Lopi, was 22 inches before felting:


And 14.5 inches after (which is about what the pattern predicted).


Finished circumference, however, should be 24 inches, but it's 19. It will fit the intended recipient, but it might be a bit snug. In the future, I think I need to go up at least two sizes to get the circumference, but can knit the number of rows specified for my intended size.

I agree with Yarn Harlot: "I will never, ever believe that gauge is my friend." Particularly when felting.

Y'know, Nietzsche says, "Outta chaos COMES order."

After the last confusing blog post and a flurry of e-mail, sudden clarity dawns.

My victim has received her victim's work-in-progress. These are to be YarnSnob's Socks of Doom, and Yarn Fairy will put them in the mail to me. My assassin WoolieBagLady, after her Doom Socks arrive, will send my Doom-Socks-in-progress to WestOzCaat to finish.

It's all about the mail.

...

Based on recommendations from students, I've revised my toe-up sock course. I've switched it to Magic Loop instead of two circs. I've recommended yarn and needle size, specified gauge, and given explicit instructions on how many stitches to cast on. The flexible, open-ended instructions were just too confusing. I rewrote the short row instructions so that they're clustered into bulleted steps. If you'd like to comment on the new course handout, I'd love to have your feedback.

Ruined Italian Villa

You know how in The English Patient the characters are riding out the end of the war in a half-ruined Italian villa? That's kind of where I imagine I am in Sock Wars. The war is still going on, but I'm over here waiting to find out what's supposed to happen next. But I think it's about time for me to re-join the fighting.

(Maybe it's less like The English Patient and more like that period of time between Bourne Identity and Bourne Supremacy. I am the Jason Bourne of Sock Wars).

I've killed off Yarn Fairy. Yarn Fairy had already killed off Yarn4Kalei, and I believe had already finished socks for Kalei's victim YarnSnob before her Socks of Doom arrived -- but I don't think she's sent them. On her blog, Yarn Snob thinks she's offed her victim (Zari Zamen?) and her victim's victim (Delice?).

My assassin, WoolieBagLady, is a Dead Woman Walking, with socks from her killer WestOzCaat already on their way. WestOzCaat has noticed the holding pattern I'm in, and I think she wants to skip over it, and has begun contacting those folks downstream.

So while I wait for WoolieBagLady and WestOzCaat to decide who gets to try to kill me, I think it's time I reactivated and sought out exactly who I should be knitting for now. But is it Yarn Snob or is it someone much further down the chain? Ms Tarzan...is it you?

Sock War Stand Down

Sock Wars is on the brink of becoming un-fun. I keep trying to figure out what to do next, but I'm suffering a severe lack of information and that's generating stress I don't need. So screw it. I'm just going to wait for someone else to pick up the slack. Either I will receive my death socks in the mail, or someone will send me yarn for my next victim.

Flickr is down this morning, causing my profile photo not to load. It's a crappy picture anyways, so I'm prompted to look for a better one. My current IM buddy icon, which I created at stortroopers.com, has been growing on me. It's low-res and doesn't look good as a Blogger Profile photo, but it's cute enough to post here.

Weapons armed...acquiring target....

Sock Wars got off to a halting start because the remnants of Hurricane Gordon smacked Northern Ireland where Yarn Monkey, the organizer, lives. Because she had trouble sending dossiers out through email, she posted the pattern for the Sock of Doom on her blog. It was Friday afternoon, and I was still at work, but I took a break and cast-on.



About 49 hours later, I was finished.


I still don't have a dossier, but I've corresponded with my target (I needed to find out if "Yarn Fairy" wore a men's size 7 or a women's). I've told her (Yarn Fairy is a "she") that she's safe as long as I don't know where to send the socks. But how safe am I?

Wondrous Woven Cables

At last. Nancy Marchant's "Wondrous Woven Cables" from Arans & Celtics on its owner.


(Isn't he cute?)

The yarn is "Blueberry" Jo Sharp Tweed DK wool. I slightly adapted the pattern to knit it in the round. Originally started November 6, 2004, I made rapid progress through the rest of the month. But once I started the sleeves (both at the same time, in the round on two circulars), progress became slow and halting. I would put it down for months at a time, and then later have to spend an entire evening figuring out where I was (and where I was going).

Next sweater? I've been admiring YarnHarlot's gansey.

Knitting the Wong Way

My mom taught me to knit in 1999, when we were visiting my sister in Maine for Thanksgiving. She laments that I'm a better knitter than she is. It's not true: I just get bored more easily, and I have stubborn rules about sewing, so that makes me more adventurous. My stitches are more even, but she's faster. (She props her right needle in her lap, leaving her right hand free to throw the yarn).

Wanting to improve, she signed up for a class at her LYS for the Wong Way of Knitting; "It's easy on your hands, fast, and helps to improve gauge," says the shop newsletter. I figured, Eh, my technique's fine, speedy and ergonomic enough for my purposes, so I'll pass.

Well, last night one of my students was knitting with that technique and it was amazing, especially her purling. I woke up this morning thinking, "I've got to try this." So I did some Googling and was shocked to see that Andrea Wong is here in Columbus! Not visiting, but actually lives here in central Ohio. For all I know, I may actually have even talked with her in Temptations.

I keep telling you: central Ohio is a knitter's paradise.

Sock Class

If enough people (more than one) have signed up, I'll start teaching a three week toe-up socks class tomorrow. This is what I have come to call the "Steep Learning Curve" socks, because everything you need to know to make these socks you have to learn all at once: Turkish cast-on, knitting on circular needles, and short row toes. My class handout (large PDF) is basically just a fancy version of the Perfect Sock Pattern wiki, but I added a bibliography to it this weekend. Suggestions for improvement are welcome.

***Update***
Beth M. asked where I'm teaching. At Craftsman Hill Fibers in Mt. Vernon, Tuesdays 9/12 - 9/26, 6:30 - 8:30. You can register by calling the store, 740-392-7724.

The end of sweater constipation?

My company inspired Cat to have nightmares about bizarre games of word hockey. But we had a good dinner, I learned about the cast of characters in her son's comic strip "Bucktooth Larry" (great politics for a 12-year-old), and we knitted. I have again picked up the sweater for Mike, again figured out where the hell I am on it, and made visible progress.


I'm almost done with the back. A few more rows and I'll do some shaping for the shoulder seam, then I'll flip it over and work the chest. The sleeves are all finished, and ready to attach. (If you're just joining me, this is the sweater I started in November 2004. It's the "Wondrous Woven Cables" sweater from Arans & Celtics, knit in "Blueberry" Jo Sharp Tweed).

Weapons Check

The arsenal for Sock Wars 2006 will be DK yarn and size 5 needles. I'm not the least bit surprised, but it seems to be causing some consternation in comment threads and the Sock Wars forum.

I immediately thought of my stash of Philosopher's Wool that has utterly failed to become a sweater. (It was a valuable moment of self-discovery: I like knitting textures; I don't like knitting colors). I had some work-related podcast listening to do, so I cast-on for a gauge tube. After work, I finished the tube, cut it in half, and measured.

Stitches per inch is good; I'm right abound 22. I'm coming up short for rows per inch though -- Yarn Monkey says 30, I have 34, but I don't expect that to be a problem. (You know, that was my gauge problem with the Wild Things crown. There are tight knitters and loose knitters; I wonder if I'm a "short" knitter?)

Nevertheless, this yarn should do nicely for the Sock of Doom.

Book List Meme

Something is up with Blogger RSS feeds, so it's days later that I noticed Ken tagged me.

1. One book that changed your life: The Demon-Haunted World: science as a candle in the dark by Carl Sagan. My affection for superstition used to extend beyond liberal tolerance, into a New Age-y view that everyone's beliefs were real in their own worlds. Sagan showed a way to reject magical thinking, to declare that some things are just wrong, and to still respond in wonder to the miracle of existence. And he was even somewhat respectful about it.
   
   
2. One book that you've read more than once: The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. So should you.
   
   
3. One book you'd want on a desert island: I'm tempted to say SAS Survival Handbook: how to survive in the wild, in any climate, on land or at sea by John Wiseman, but I'd probably be sorry and wish instead that I had an edition of the complete works of Shakespeare.
   
   
4. One book that made you laugh: Any David Sedaris. Any Molly Ivins. I laughed so hard at Me Talk Pretty One Day in LaGuardia Airport that it was embarrassing. Even better on audiobook.
   
   
5. One book that made you cry: The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger.
   
   
6. One book that you wish had been written: How the Republicans Will Steal the 2000 Election, and Lead Us into War in the Middle East (c1999).
   
   
7. One book that you wish had never been written: There is nothing that I wish had not been written. There are things that I wish had not had the impact they've had. But if I had to pick one thing in particular, I'd say Leviticus.
   
   
8. One book you're currently reading: The Fourth Bear by Jasper Fforde. Fractured fairy tales for adults, complete with acrobatic puns. Fforde gives into meta-narrative witticisms maybe a bit too easily, but I love it.
   
   
9. One book you've been meaning to read: Skybreaker, Kenneth Oppel's sequel to Airborn (which I loved) has been next to the bed all year. I was really looking forward to it, but I couldn't get into it, so I set it aside, waiting to be in a better mood.
   
   
10. Tag 6 people: I agree with TrickyTricot -- this is the blog equivalent of a chain letter, and I'm not going to impose it on someone unwillingly (still, Ken, I was flattered that you picked me...residual "picked last for sports teams" neurosis). I'd be interested in the answers of anyone who cares to read my blog; I only know who some of you are, so consider yourself invited to respond, and leave me a comment so I know to go look at it.
    

Craftr: My latest million dollar idea

This morning, after a couple Google queries, I figured out how to add a LibraryThing widget to my sidebar. I've had a LibraryThing account since last November, but I haven't really done anything with it: the retrocon work is just overwhelming. So earlier today I added the three books I'm reading or listening to now, removed the dozen test titles I'd put in over the past year, and pasted the Javascript widget where I wanted it on the page. This might inspire me to keep working in LibraryThing.

It would be cool if there was something similar for knitting, some Web 2.0 community site that let crafters create accounts, record details about their projects, upload pictures, allow tagging and commenting. Simple RSS widgets could be dropped into blogs (automatically generating nifty percentage bars -- this whole idea occurred to me because I can't make this code work in Blogger Beta, and even if I could, the prospect of editing HTML code every time I want to update my "On the Needles" sidebar makes me want to scrap the whole thing). I see mash-up possibilities, with Flickr of course, but maybe even Etsy.

What do you all think, Gentle Readers? Could one "Craftr" (or "CraftThing") site cover the needs of knittrs, weavrs, spinnrs, etc.? Just the yarn crafts, or could it be expanded out to embrace quiltrs and beadrs? Maybe each separate craft would feature-creep it in too many directions? As a knittr, I think I'd want the project database to include pattern source, start and end dates, materials, and progress indicator. Notes and journal fields would be important, and specifics (like dye lots, gauges, needles, etc.) could be recorded there.

Cat's "525,600 Minutes" Meme

Cat, contemplative with the start of a new school year, challenges her blog readers to answer these five questions:

1. How old do you think you'll live to be?
   
   For the longest time, I thought it would be 42, which happens in just over 3 months now. But a stress test last year turned out just fine, so now I don't know. I don't excercise enough, and I'm excessively fond of ice cream and fast food cheeseburgers. I probably will have my first heart attack sometime in the next 20 years, but I plan to survive it. I'd prefer to die in some wildly improbable, cataclysmic event -- kidnapped by aliens; infected with Andromeda Strain; crushed by Godzilla. More likely, it will be a car accident. Let's say 77?
   
   
2. How do you measure the passing of time in your own life?
   
   I watch for the signs -- in both nature and culture -- for the cycle of seasonal change. The first lightning bug, the first frost. Dandelions poking up around Imbolc, ripe peaches around Lughnasadh. Orion lingering in the autumn morning sky. Graeter's Cherry Chip ice cream in February, Girl Scout Thin Mints in March. Soon the starlings will begin to practice their formations in the evening sky, and the new fall shows will air on TV. I look out into the near future for milestones, which speed up or slow down the passage of time, depending on how much I anticipate or dread them.
   
   
3. What would constitute "the perfectly lived day" for you?
   
   A day lived mindfully, open to what comes, delighting in it. Ideally, it would be a bright, cool day, maybe in the fall. A light hike in a wooded area would be nice, maybe with few others around. I would talk with friends and family, probably laugh a lot. We'd have a tasty lunch. (But Cat's idea of starring in a Broadway show and finishing the day off with fabulous, crazy monkey sex would be OK too). At night I would dream that I could breath underwater.
   
   
4. If you could pick one age or one year that you could live over and over, which one would you pick? Why?
   
   I had a friend who used to say with inappropriate irony, "It's true that I get better looking with each passing day." Me too: handsomer, smarter, wiser...more talented and fabulous as time marches on. (Humbler too). So I tend not to pine over the past; my best times have been the beginnings of something new. When I was fourteen, I promised myself that I would always remember and appreciate the complicated joy and pain of that transition from child into something else. My first year of college, my first year of grad school...all wonderful times. The early 90's were the best. I had found love, I was surrounded by smart friends. But still, I don't think I'd go back. I'd rather take what comes.
   
   And Slaughterhouse-Five had a fairly profound effect on my worldview. I think moments in time are eternal, and our perception of "now" is an illusion. Like Billy Pilgrim, we are all unstuck in time, if only we have the presence of mind to notice it. Every day is Groundhog Day.
   
   
5. If you knew you were going to die in a year, what would you do in your final days?
   
   I expect "Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance," not necessarily in that order. I'd want to say goodbye. Or I think I would, until it became such a burden -- creating moments, bumming people out. I'd probably just get exhausted with it all. Then bitter about all the obligations a fore-knowledge of your own death imposes on you. I might undertake a project to hide little meaningful things everywhere, so that people would unexpectedly be reminded of me in future years.
   

Math anxiety

I'm about a month behind listening to Cast-On episodes, so I only recently heard Brenda kvell about the Widdershins sock pattern. I tried it before -- it was one of the aborted projects that I tried to do with the Handpainted Opal -- but didn't like it. Still, I know that Brenda has some of the same "sock issues" that I do, and if she says this may be the Holy Grail of sock patterns, then maybe, I thought, I should give it another shot. Other bloggers mentioned that the designer had written on her own blog about how to adapt the pattern to other stitch counts.

I thought I had sufficient math skills for my knitting (I whined to my GLBT-Knitsibs). I thought they were more than sufficient, actually. (Hey, I do Kakuro puzzles in bed).

And I was with the designer up to a point. I get that, if you have a 54 st circumference, you do gusset increases until you have 74 st: 27 for the instep, 14 each for the gussets, and 19 heel stitches. But I could not for the life of me figure out where that 19 comes from. The designer said:

For a round heel with a flap n stitches wide, the number of stitches below the heel turning is h(n) where h(k) = k for k.

Uh...what? I get what "h" is. I know I'm solving for "n." But what the hell is "k?"

The people on GLBT-Knit came through, leading me to realize that it's not about the math: there just need to be enough heel stitches to cover the bottom of the heel, whatever my gauge happens to be. So I made some quick notes and set off.

I leached the color out of this picture because these socks will be a gift, and the recipient sometimes reads my blog. I have to admit, except for the drama of the multi-variable equation above, the Widdershins construction is pretty cool. It reminds me a lot of Judy Gibson's You're Putting Me On socks. And I had an important sizing epiphany: a short-row heel would "begin" about halfway into your gusset increases. So with an L measurement of 6.5 inches, I'd want to begin my increases 15 rounds before I reached 6.5 (or around 5 inches, with my current gauge). Significantly more thinking is required than with my usual sock pattern, but I think this sock may be more comfortable for people with higher insteps. I think _____ is really going to like it.

The Stash Fairy

She signs her emails "lc2" and those who follow her blog (and you should: it's poetic, smart, spirited, and different, a glimpse into how one goes about surviving cancer) may know her as "rcclive," but I think I'm going to start calling her the Stash Fairy.

With the gift of a single skein of Bearfoot back in May 2004, she reawakened my dormant sock knitting (which now occupies so much of this blog). The gift sent me to The Stitch Stops Here in search of more of this marvelous stuff, and ensured that my generally stash-free existence was at an end, not to mention all the money I've blown on Addi Turbos.

I had lunch with her Friday, when she layered upon me several marvelous gifts: 10 balls of blue baby cashmere, some purple cotton Sockotta (mom will be happy), Trekking XXL, Trekking Tweed, and Trekking Color. She threw in a sock pattern with an interesting cabled/broken rib design, and a blue t-shirt that says "I just came in to pet the yarn." All of this in a canvas DRA Taos bag, which for a library automation geek like me is perhaps the coolest part of the gift. I want lunch with her to be a regular thing, as long as she promises to stop bringing me stuff (bad fairy!) and takes naps before starting for home. I was horrified to read how much our lunch had tired her out.

Oh, the picture? It's that first skein of Bearfoot, the first pair of socks I made two-at-once on two circs (toe-up, naturally). The cuff design is from Stash Fairy's own sock pattern, called "Twirly Toes."

When One Cannot Invent

Years ago, I cracked open a fortune cookie to find this pointed comment: "When one cannot invent, one must at least improve."

See, I'm really not all that creative. I get flashes of inspiration, but they're usually just a recognition that something someone else has done is cool. I don't write stories because all I would produce would be crappy fan fiction with humiliatingly obvious Mary Sues: the visiting American professor at Hogwarts, the librarian that Harry Dresden turns to for Internet research, any number of guest X-men. My knitting kind of feeds into this: I don't write patterns, but I do experiment with substitute techniques: working in the round instead of flat, creating the object backwards like a top-down hat or toe-up sock, and so on.

All of which is to say, Gentle Readers, that I'm tinkering with my blog, adding stuff to the sidebar, and I'll probably be stealing things I like from your blogs. Like that nifty "On The Needles" widget I see out there (Ken is doing it on Blogger, so there must be a way). I've always been envious of people with Movable Type blogs with the plug-ins that show what they're reading or listening to, and I hope that the new Blogger has something similar. I'm trying to find some way, with minimal or no effort, to recreate in my sidebar the earliest days of this blog.

Matt's Gigantic Balls

[Apologies to those of you who read this through Bloglines or other RSS readers. I upgraded to the new Blogger Beta, and that seems to have republished my posts. Didn't mean to spam your aggregators.]

Hung out for a good chunk of Saturday at the Merc (story on Randy's blog) where I snapped this picture with my crappy camera phone:


That's Matt, showing off his enormous balls. Matt's knitting a sweater from mop cotton. Seriously, that is some gigantic yarn. His gauge is like 1.5 stitches per inch. The sweater is going to weigh a ton, and when it's wet I'm pretty sure Gus (did I get that name right?) will be immobilized. But it looks cool. I want one.

Great day; lot of laughing.

You must talk about Sock Wars

Yarn Monkey reports that, as of Tuesday, there are 400 sock warriors registered worldwide.

I am ridiculously excited about this. It appears that I am planning the whole fall season around Sock Wars. Craftsman Hill has asked me to teach my toe-up socks class (or the "Steep Learning Curve" socks, as I call them), and I haven't confirmed because I'm worried about it cutting into my Sock Wars time. I'd like to go to Chicago for the weekend -- see Altar Boyz and The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, catch a taping of Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, maybe stalk Franklin and Dolores -- but what about my mission? Sock Wars will end on Thanksgiving, when I'm on vacation in Maine. Will I have enough stash to keep myself alive? Will there be a FedEx station nearby where I can launch my attacks against my targets?

On the Sock Wars Forum, I read a plaintive message from a sock newbie looking for helpful instructional videos because she didn't know anyone in central Ohio who knits. I decided that Cat and I should help her out. In fact...

All central Ohio knitters should form a Sock Warriors' Guild

...a geographical alliance of knitters, a cabal of sock-making ninja, banding together to encourage and support our own in this brutal battle. The experienced and seasoned will train the fresh recruits, help fix their dropped stitches, guide them through the first turning of their heels. But we should all be on guard, for in the end, each of us is in it for himself, and one of the Guild may be the assassin assigned to you.

(I was going to create a Meetup.com site, but it hardly seems worth the money. So if you're interested, leave a comment or send me an email, yarmando at gmail dot com).

Handpainted Opal

I've made four or five attempts to do something with the gorgeous, handpainted Opal which I found marked down at Quiltessentials back when Mel took me there. I'm wondering if the frog and toad-like colors are encouraging my tendency to repeatedly frog it.

My first pass at it had too loose a gauge, so I went down a needle size. I didn't like the star toe, so I started again. I tried to experiment with gusset-style increases before the short-row heel, but I hated the way it looked, so I frogged back to make a normal heel.

By the way, I was working on this gusset experiment while watching High School Musical, so I associate the construction technique with that experience. Since I never want to watch the movie again, I wonder if I'll ever want to try this experiment again. Does this happen to other knitters, or am I just weird? I associate DNA cables with Kismet, the Shell Lace Pattern with Veronica Mars, and countless other connections, most of which I can't bring to mind unless I'm actually knitting the pattern.

Anyway, I think I've finally figured out what kind of socks this yarn wants to be, and whom it wants to be for.

Making socks that fit

One of the reasons I love knitting socks is because it's fairly easy to make them fit. You just need two important measurements: the circumference (C) of the widest part of the ball of the foot, and the length (L) from the tip of the longest toe to the center of the ankle. I sometimes have a hard time explaining to people the L measurement, so here's the illustration from the sock scriptures, Simple Socks: Plain and Fancy.

To get the L measurement, the author says, "I place a ruler on the floor at the inside edge of the foot, with the person seated and their foot resting lightly on the floor." It can be handy to know the circumference of the ankle, but that's usually somewhere close to the C measurement.

I also like making socks because nearly everyone likes them and can stand to have many pairs. How many hats, scarves, and mittens does one person really need? Sweaters take too long. And don't even talk to me about afghans, shawls, and lace.

And you don't really need to have a recipient in mind when you start a new sock. You can let the pattern and the yarn take you where it wants, and you end up with what I call "Cinderella Socks" -- whomever they fit, gets them.

Infidel

It's been too hot to blog. Franklin and Harlot have managed to write screamingly funny posts about the heat. I'm in awe of their stamina, not to mention their wit and charm.

And I've been busy. I've been trying to make time the past couple weeks to help my aunt move. This gave me an opportunity last month to drive around my hometown in the Big Atheist Truck.


Isn't that tacky? A total violation of my "one bumper sticker" rule. But only one of those bumper stickers -- "No Special Rights for Christians" -- would I probably not put on my own car. (I would wear it on a t-shirt, however). And I adore the license plate. I'd like this one for myself...

...but I know it would never get approval. (I'm told the only way my friend got HEATHEN approved was by telling them it was "Heat Hen.") Besides, "infidel" doesn't mean what it should mean. It should mean "unbeliever" generically, but instead its more common meaning is "non-Muslim." I'm not anti-Muslim. I'm not even anti-Christian. I am for worldviews that do not require a belief in the supernatural as the foundation for ethics.

No interesting knitting to report. Almost done with the cool cotton socks (working them one at a time, since the Sockotta balls tangle too much when you work from both ends). I was trying to do wrapped short rows with the heel and get the lovely results I see in other people's work. But my results just aren't as neat, tight, and tidy. Still, it's a perfectly acceptable sock. And the light, cotton yarn and small project size is perfect in this weather.

Are YOU ready for Sock Wars 2006?

My freshman year in college, guys in my dorm played a game they called "Killer." (Or maybe it was "Assassin?") Participants were given a target they had to get before they themselves were gotten -- shot with a squirt gun, poisoned by sugar or salt in a drink, throats slashed/marked with a marker, etc. Points were awarded for creativity, deducted for getting caught. I was the cause of deducted points -- an innocent bystander hit by the shrapnel of a water balloon grenade.

I wasn't interested in playing, but I am interested in Yarn Monkey's Sock Wars. Sign up before September 8, and on September 22 you'll be mailed a sock pattern and information about your target. You win by completing and mailing socks to your victim, but all the while you are someone else's target. You now take up your victim's mission, with her work in progress as your next weapon. A month later, the last one standing gets swag; everyone else gets the pair of socks that took them out of the game.

I have a knitted gift project that could interfere with my participation, but still, this sounds like a fun distraction. If I'm the one assigned to knit socks for Mel's size 13 feet, then gauge rules be damned: I'm using thick yarn.

Halfdome, Topdown

I finished the crown on my top-down version of the halfdome cap.

And I've learned something: increases do not look the same as decreases. This was probably always perfectly obvious to everyone else, but my reading of Barbara Walker's Knitting from the Top led me to believe otherwise. I can see where it sort of looks raglan-ish, but it's just not as attractive as the bottom-up version. Still, the advantages of not running out of color before finishing the top outweigh the beauty of the raglan decreases, if you ask me.

Apartment renovation update:
Molding is complete in the bathroom. Kitchen ceiling has been painted and the broken plastic light panels have been replaced. I'm sure my designated knitting contractor is correct and the whole thing needs more major repair, but it's an apartment, and up to the property managers and owners to decide how much work to do.

I can live with this

My fears of a patchwork bathroom were mounting. I mean, look at the linoleum around the sink


But the floor was put down today, and while all the pieces are indeed utterly dissimilar, there's a general neutrality to it all. I can cope.

There are a few small bits left to finish (moulding isn't complete all around the floor), and the kitchen ceiling is still damp, which is suspicious, since we haven't taken a shower here all week. I mean, that was the problem that started us off on this little renovation adventure. Hopefully soon, we can put all this behind us, and my blog can return to more details of what I'm knitting and more complaints about identity politics.

Shower Construction, Day Three

Progress on Wednesday: the linoleum is gone from the floor and repairs have started on the wood beneath. Some marble panels have been installed in the shower.

I'm starting to worry about a patchwork bathroom, with shower, sink, wall tile, paint, and floor all failing to match in any recognizable way. I'll get over it. It's just a bathroom. The marble panels in the shower really do look nice.

However, I seem to be missing a tube of Elidel cream. I can't imagine why the workers would take it, but it's not where I left it the night before.

After snapping the above photos, I took off for XY Night at the Merc. Mine were the only Y chromosomes to make an appearance however. Still, good conversation with the Y-deprived, I finished off the cap, and started some seaman-style neck-ribbing on the Obey Giant scarf.

Shower Construction, Day Two

Significant progress on our bathroom repairs Monday afternoon, when workmen ripped out the tile and replaced the mildewed wallboard behind it. They had just finished when I arrived home.

I overhead one of them say, "I'm going to call in sick tomorrow; stay out of the heat." Sure enough, nothing seemed to happen Tuesday. Mike and I are showering in a vacant unit elsewhere in the complex, which is inconvenient but a fun little adventure. Reminds me of dorm life, as I walk over to the other apartment, wearing my flip-flops and carrying a shower bucket and a towel. Mike lacks this nostalgic memory; I don't think he's finding the same enjoyment I am. (There's a weird feeling of doing something almost illicit -- slipping into another apartment and doing something as intimate as bathing).

More updates as events warrant.

What's that smell?

This is turning out to be the summer of disagreeable odors.

About 10 days ago, Mike surprised a skunk one night when he was taking the trash out. In the darkness, he didn't notice the animal or see what it was, only that it looked like a puppy that was "moving funny." It was probably stomping in warning. He dashed off when the tail went up and he saw the white flash, but it was too late.

I'm enormously grateful for the Internet, which provided an effective recipe for musk removal. Tomato juice, all sites seem to agree, doesn't really do it; you need hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, and dishwashing liquid.

I'm still finding some lingering contamination in the house (the towels Mike used after showering, the t-shirt I wore to bed that night, the small pillows we use in place of teddy bears), but generally the musk is gone from the house. Just in time for new and different bad smells.

I'm pretty sensitive to mildew. It's quite a battle in our bathroom, because a few years ago we had a leak that the landlords didn't repair -- just sealed it over, trapping moisture behind the tile. The new landlords are putting some energy into fixing the problem, but this involves extensive repair on our kitchen ceiling and a powerful, industrial fan blowing into the bathroom plumbing access panel (which happens to be on the wall by my side of the bed). Happily, Loratadine/Claritin handles my mildew allergies as well as it does hayfever. We won't be able to use our shower next week, but the inconvenience is a small price to pay for getting this problem taken care of.

Knitting reports:

I apparently dropped a stitch at the heel join in Mom's purple fib socks. That's enough of a problem area on socks even without mistakes, so I frogged back to really fix it. That pair is completed now.



One ball wasn't enough to complete the large adult halfdome cap, which isn't a surprise, but unless I make a longer contrasting brim, one ball isn't enough for me to make the regular adult size either. I finished off the top of the large cap with the black yarn I used for the brim (pictured below in green; the hat is weirdly shaped because it's too big for me, but it should fit Aubrey). I'll buy more of the blue to finish the last few rounds of the regular cap, and maybe knit a second one from the top down so it won't matter when I run out of color.



Nice picture of my bald spot, huh?

Fibonnaci again

When the socks I intended for Joe were too small, I wanted to get working on another pair quickly. Joe is a retired engineer, so I figured he might like the Finonacci sequence design. I picked up some New England Highland wool in oatmeal and teak. Working from actual measurements, I created these socks:


One pair of socks finished, four more in progress (which shows a profound lack of imagination and ambition, if you ask me). Meanwhile, I set sock work aside to begin working on some Halfdome caps in the latest issue of Knitty. These are cool, although I don't understand why the instructions have you knit them flat then sew the seam. I'm knitting them in the round by casting on two less stitches than the pattern calls for, then subtracting those stitches from the count at the beginning and end of the marker placements and decrease rounds. I've got one cap in progress to replace the lame one I made for Aubrey this spring, and when I ran out of yarn to complete the crown, I started another.

Mission: get all these socks and hats completed before the next XY Knit-In at the Merc next week.

Hat for LC2

The head hugger hat I talked about a few weeks ago did not shrink down to size. So I decided to try again.

Working with some Debbie Bliss SoHo that I bought near SoHo (at The Point in Greenwich Village), I went down a needle size and tried the alternate directions for a six-section (instead of a 12-section) crown. One section in, I decided:

1. I didn't like how the chevron brim pattern looked with variegated yarn, and...
2. I didn't like knitting the wraps visibly on the top

So I started again, this time knitting a plain, garter-stitch body for the hat, and working the wraps to the inside of the cap.

The result is a smaller cap that should fit Linda much better than the previous attempt. It's blocking now (turns out that the core to my old Donvier ice cream freezer is the perfect size and shape for blocking pill-box hats),


In case you're interested, here are my instructions for the six-section crown without knitting the wraps visibly. (For the rest of the pattern, buy a copy from Danny).

 Row 17    K3, kw, swt
 Row 19    K4, kw, kw, swt
 Row 21    K6, kw, kw, swt
 Row 23    K8, kw, kw, swt
 Row 25    K10, kw, k1, kw, swt
 Row 27    K13, kw, k1, kw, swt
 Row 1     K16, kw, k1, kw, k2

Forever free to censure the government

Last week, when I read the New York Times' report on the government's use of financial communication data to track terrorist activity, I said to Mike, "Look, the Times has just earned their Pulitzer this year." I like the theory one of Andrew Sullivan's readers proposed: the story makes the Bush administration look great. They wanted it published so they could trumpet what a brilliant job they're doing and villify the press, which always plays well to the conservative base.

Today, NY Times editor Bill Keller and LA Times editor Dean Baquet have published a reminder that telling us what our government is doing is not only the right guaranteed the press in the First Amendment, but also its primary responsibility in a democracy:

Thirty-five years ago yesterday, in the Supreme Court ruling that stopped the government from suppressing the secret Vietnam War history called the Pentagon Papers, Justice Hugo Black wrote: "The government's power to censor the press was abolished so that the press would remain forever free to censure the government. The press was protected so that it could bare the secrets of the government and inform the people."

Censor/Censure...nicely done.

But I wanted to be Wonder Woman

Your results:
You are Superman

You are mild-mannered, good, strong and you love to help others.

Superman		55%
Spider-Man		55%
Robin		54%
Green Lantern		50%
Supergirl		47%
Catwoman		45%
Batman		45%
Hulk		45%
The Flash		35%
Wonder Woman		32%
Iron Man		25%

Click here to take the Superhero Personality Quiz

(In point of fact, it's a tie between Superman and Spider-Man. I took the test again to see if I could get my Wonder Woman score up -- or at least my Green Lantern score -- and ended up 70% Superman. Must be the cape).

Fibonnaci Socks

As Jerry mentioned, I started a pair of socks for my mom at XY Knitting last week. She'd asked for socks with contrasting toes and heels. So I bought some Plymouth Encore to make purple socks with yellow toes.

The socks were proceeding nicely, but they just looked so boring. So I decided to copy Hugh Mannity's idea and add some accent stripes at fibonacci-inspired intervals.

I'm generally pleased. I've mostly hidden the color jogs on the accent stripes (if you expand the picture, you might be able to spot them). Those accents look a little wonky when the ribbing starts, but not bad enough to frog back.

PRAM

Mike and his former roommate coined the term PRAM -- perfectly responsive audience member. They used it pejoratively for someone who laughed at stupid, obvious jokes, got choked up over manipulative sentiment, cheered for unearned victories, etc.

But I think it's important to be a PRAM. Performances require good audiences. The energy of appreciation provides fuel to the live performer. I've seen professional productions of the musical The Mystery of Edwin Drood fall flat because the audience was too passive, while an amateur production came together brilliantly through the willingness of the audience. But it's not just about audience-participation shows like Drood or even live performances of any kind: books and movies are better when you put yourself in the spot of the intended reader or viewer. That role may not be to your taste; I'm not interested in being the intended audience for the latest Adam Sandler movie, but if I were forced to see it, I would certainly hate it less if I met it on its own terms.

Today I'm celebrating Gay Pride by being a good parade watcher. I've thought about being in the parade (I'd love to get a group of librarians together to do a Book Cart Drill Team routine). But I get a bigger kick out of cheering. I'll meet family and friends downtown later this morning. We'll try to stake out the front window of Barley's, drink lots of good beer, and then go outside and watch the parade. Despite the heat, Mary will have her rainbow boa (yesterday she referred to it as a "down jacket, inside out") and I will have my bubble machines. And if I can find some at the drug store, I want to bring little bottles of sunscreen to give to the go-go boys and topless lesbians.

---

Post-Parade Update, 3:30 pm

No problem getting the front table at Barley's. (We've had trouble with this in past, since the restaurant doesn't take reservations, but staff members have reserved the table some years). Some of the bubble guns wouldn't blow, but the Turbo Bubble Generator I bought last year was a huge hit (as was my "I'm a librarian. Don't make me shush your ass" shirt). I ended up giving the bubble machine away. There were people with air horns following the homophobic Christian protestors, blowing the horns every time the protestors got on their bull horns. I gave them the bubble machine in exchange for the promise to keep blowing bubbles on the fundies until they left. (Reviews of these types of machines suggest that they don't last long anyway).

I didn't find sample-sized sunblock, but I did buy some of the new Coppertone aerosol, which is a great product. (Yes, I'm keenly aware of the irony that the reason we all need to wear sunscreen all the time is because we've depleted the ozone layer by using aerosols). I couldn't get close enough to the people who needed it, however. Next year, we need samples to throw out to people (I'm surprised companies haven't thought of this already). And many more bubble machines.

Father's Day

I love how the stories of science can sound like myth. DarkSyde writes in Daily Kos (it's worth quoting extensively):

A billion years ago our home planet was unrecognizable. On land there was virtually nothing but barren rock, scoured by howling wind and pelting rain. The air was a poisonous yellow-orange haze of nitrogen and carbon compounds with only the barest presence of free oxygen. But the oceans bloomed colorfully with swarms of single-celled critters. It was the golden age the of Proterozoic Eon, a world ruled by microscopic creatures of dazzling diversity.

Some zipped around like tiny jet aircraft, powered through the viscous media by rows of cilia or a single whip-like flagella. Others lazily poured themselves into one advancing pseudopodia after another, moving and engulfing their prey like the blob. A few found safety in numbers and grouped in bulky mats, preserved to this day as stromatolites. And here and there, perhaps a handful had organized into groups of burgeoning specialized cells--the first metazoans. But there's an even more exciting change in the works and it will become all the rage: We're talking 'bout sex!

It goes on to talk about the evolution of sexual reproduction and the creation of dads. Like a Walt Whitman poem, the essay takes us from the dawn of life on the planet to the life of DarkSyde's own dad.

I miss my dad. It's been nearly 25 years since he died of a heart attack while fighting a fire. I've lived more of my life without him than with him, and yet, I can't write these sentences without being overtaken by sadness. I was glad to read that the volunteer fire department he gave his life to has a strong leader and hope for the future, but that news, on this weekend of this particular year, makes it hard for me to stay ahead of the grief I've spent most of my life trying to outrun.

Head Hugger Hat

A friend recently told me she no longer has to fix her hair, having lost it to chemotherapy. We're not close, but I care about her a lot, and wanted to make her a hat. One of my favorite patterns is Danny Oulette's Easy Head-Hugger Hat.


This is a bit too big, but I think it can be washed and blocked to a smaller size.

Despite the name "easy," the pattern has some tricky elements. I never have mastered the technique of grafting it together at the end, so there is a seam.

The pillbox/fez shape isn't to everyone's taste, but I think it will suit her. I hope she likes it. She's an amazing woman, and she's beat cancer before. I'm confident she can do it again.

Martha's Vineyard Socks

Last fall, Sarah and Joe brought me some yarn they picked up on their vacation on Martha's Vineyard. It was locally produced, and came with no label. I liked it, but I've had a lot of trouble making it into something. I first tried a Matt Shepard scarf but it felt too stiff. Then I tried iPod mittens, but I had trouble controlling the gauge.

Yes, it shows a severe lack of imagination, but of course, in the end, the yarn became socks.


Plain, thick, brown, wool socks. Knit toe-up with a star toe and PGR heel. Circumference is 42 stitches, so that took a bit of thought on the heel (I don't usually work heels on an odd number) and on the ribbing, since 42 isn't divisible by 4. The ribbing is K2, P1, K2, P2. Neat effect.

The socks were intended for Joe, but I incorrectly guessed that his feet were the same size as mine, and these will be too small for him. If I pick out and reknit the toe, I can make the sock shorter to fit Sarah. Or I could keep them for myself. These ~are~ kind of a cruel gift: socks that have to be hand-washed and laid flat to dry.

Mindfulness

A couple years ago when stuff was stressing me out, I ran across the notion of "mindfulness meditation" as stress-reliever. Mike and I signed up for a 6 week course at WiseWays, and I did some reading about mindfulness, meditation, and Buddhism.

I like meditation, but I don't regularly practice. I like that, at the core, nothing is really required but attention to the present. Our teacher would spread a cloth and lay out an altar with a stone, a candle, a small dish of water, and some sage. Nice props which appealed to my inner Wiccan, but mindfulness meditation doesn't need them. It doesn't need fancy postures, special pillows, mantras, or mandalas. It doesn't need faith, scripture, dogma, clergy, the divine feminine, or the crucified Lord. All that is required is attention to the breath and to the present moment, which is by its nature manifested here and now.

So of course, I did like Stephen Batchelor's Buddhism Without Beliefs. Since reading Franklin's post about how Buddhist practice has been subtly enriching his everyday life, I've been thinking I should set aside some time to breath, and maybe re-read Batchelor's book. I periodically look around to see if he's written anything else, and I'm happy to have discovered that Stephen Batchelor now has a blog. In his initial post, he says, "The view of reality disclosed through the natural sciences evokes feelings of awe incomparably greater than anything religious or mystical writings of any tradition can inspire." I can dig it.

Brown but pretty

My aunt had requested brown socks, a chore I wasn't looking forward to. I had thought about using some Trekking XXL for accent stripes, but it was too beautiful and became a separate pair. So...what to do with the plain brown Regia?


It's the "Child's First Sock in shell pattern" from the amazing Knitting Vintage Socks. A lot more work than a simple, toe-up sock with 2x2 rib on the cuff, but I'm pleased with the effect. See how the angle of the light brings out different aspects of the lace pattern? It's been a while since I followed an actual pattern, or knit a top-down sock (let alone with a heel flap and gusset); kind of a nice change of pace. But now I have second sock syndrome.

Knit in Public...Columbus too?

This is pretty much a public message to Caterwauler, Knitting Brow, and other central Ohians: what do you think? Is it worth asking Franklin for a customized Columbus Knit In Public Day design?

Which came first: insomnia or inspiration?

Yesterday on Men Who Knit, Hugh Mannity (note pun) wrote that he wanted to make a pair of Fibonacci socks, but he wanted the series to start at the heel and work outwards in both directions.

Yarmando is intrigued. A strange construction method and design-by-math?

I was lying awake at 3:00 a.m. thinking what ways could be used to start socks at the heel. When Dodger had his usual midnight snot attack (Wouldn't it be great if cats could just blow their nose? Or if you could just give them Sudafed?) I got up and tried a couple of the ideas out. I think I see how it can be done.

One way is to do your favorite tubular cast-on (mine is Turkish), knit your favorite short-row heel, and then begin knitting your tube. On the first round, knit half a round in waste yarn. You then either knit up towards the ankle or down towards the toe. When you're finished, remove the waste yarn, pick up the freed stitches, and knit the other half of your sock.

Another method that works but is significantly more cumbersome and confusing (particularly at 4:00 a.m. and with the "magic loop" method -- better to do it with double points I think) is this one: after knitting your heel, put aside half your stitches on a string holder. With your working yarn and a strand of waste yarn, work a provisional cast-on (alternative directions) for the required number of stitches -- at least half of your circumference, more if you want a roomier instep. Connect back up with the live stitches on the opposite side from where you started the provisional cast-on, and then continue knitting either down the foot or up the ankle, reducing any extra instep stitches you added.

Yeah, this is all too much trouble and offers no advantages over other sock construction methods. But it was an interesting experiment to work through when I couldn't sleep.

Sock Leftovers Scarf

I started this scarf in January, 2005, and it was one of the first things I wrote about when I started this blog. It sits untouched for months at a time, and now I really want to buckle down, finish it, and get it out of my life.

To that end, I've moved it up into the study, where I intend it to be the "official" project for that room. While I sit at the computer and listen to my favorite podcasts, or catch up on the television shows that I missed and have to download (yes, I recognize I'm stepping into a gray area of copyright ethics), this is the project I intend to work on.

Of course, I have to remember that knitted things must be picked up after I've taken pictures of them. This morning, Dodger decided that the scarf was another cat bed.

Oh, yeah...I still knit

I notice I haven't posted any knitting pictures lately. Here are the socks I'm currently working on.

Aren't they gorgeous? I've tossed the label already, but I think the colorway is called "Water" from Cherry Tree Hill. I love the feel of the tightly spun merino. Because Mom raved about the fit of the afterthought heel following Dawn Brocco's adaptation, I thought I'd also see if I could do Brocco's version of the star/round toe (but toe-up, of course). Pretty easy -- I just increase at six points every round until I got to 24 stitches on my needles, then increase every third round until I get to the desired circumference (in this case, 60 stitches on size 2 needles). I like it, and I think it will feel better on the toes than the more usual banded toe (here pictured, but since frogged and reknit).

Lead me not into YouTube

One of the funniest things I've ever seen in my life was my friend Russell and his roommate Jim lip-syncing to Whitney and Cissy Houston's duet "I Know Him So Well." There were moments of genius comedy: Jim holding his elbows tight to his sides, clutching the wooden-spoon-microphone, lips quivering artistically; Rus gliding in from stage right, snapping his head forward to fix us with a gaze so serious and earnest it almost read as hostile.

I was reminded of this when I read Sam Anderson's "The Neglected Art of Lip-Syncing" in Slate and followed the links to the work of the Two Chinese Boys. Their performance of "I Want It that Way" is magnificently funny.

I need to stay away from YouTube. If I'm not careful, I will spend all week watching amateur video.

---

Update:
Remember the Jello Obelisk of Sethi's Jubilee from this year's 10 Commandments Party? I've uploaded to YouTube the messy video of it being set into place.

Time to try a cardigan?

You have got to check out brooklyn tweed's amazing Urban Aran Cardigan.

Cardigans never appealed to me, but I think I need to make one of these. Paton should pay him for rights to the alterations and publish it as a separate pattern.

Unfortunately, it's not going to look as good on me. Too bad long, skinny bodies weren't all the rage when I had one.

When it absolutely, positively has to be there at a time convenient to us

What good is a blog if you can't bitch impotently about minor inconveniences?

First, the good news. Verizon doesn't seem to define "family" narrowly, so I upgraded to FamilyShare to combine my wireless bill with Mike's, and added a line (yes, they call them "lines") for his mom. I had the bright idea to get her a Migo since she wouldn't really be able to work the number pad. (Pause while I chuckle at the image of a legally blind senior citizen trying to text message.)

So far so good. Everything transferred fine; I see the two additional numbers in my on-line customer account.

I got home from work yesterday to find a FedEx tag stuck to the door. I can pick up the packages after 5:00 or they'll try to deliver it again on Monday. No problem, I thought, I'll just go pick them up on Saturday.

BZZZT!

They're not open on the weekend. I can't imagine why not. I mean, it's perfectly acceptable to me that they won't try to deliver a low priority package on the weekend, but shouldn't I at least be given the option of picking it up?

As Little Edie says, "This is the worst thing to happen ever in the history of America."

Wikipedia Birthday Meme

Duffy and Mel have piqued my curiosity, so I'll pass along the Wikipedia Birthday Meme. The chore is to visit Wikipedia, look up your birth month and day (no year), and post three events, three people who were born, and three people who died on that day.

On December 6, we find:

Events

• 1849 - American abolitionist Harriet Tubman escapes from slavery.
• 1933 - U.S. federal judge John M. Woolsey rules that the James Joyce novel Ulysses is not obscene.
• 1947 - The Everglades National Park in Florida is dedicated.

Births

• 1900 - Agnes Moorehead, American actress (d. 1974)
• 1958 - Nick Park, British filmmaker and animator
• 1971 - Ryan White, American AIDS activist (d. 1990)

Deaths

• 1352 - Pope Clement VI (b. 1291)
• 1889 - Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate States of America (b. 1808)
• 1993 - Don Ameche, American actor (b. 1908)

Give it a try. It's harder to narrow down to just three than you might think. And if you're introspective and given to such things, you might wonder what it says about you that you'd choose to list Endora over scientists, artists, religious leaders, and heads of state.

Kakuro: the next level

For the first time last month I saw a sudoku book that also included kakuro puzzles. I was not interested -- "Sudoku with the addition of math? Why would I want to do that?"

Well, I've just now completed my first two kakuro puzzles. The trick seemed to be starting with the places where two squares add up to 3, 4, 16, or 17.

---

Update: 4:40 pm

OK, now I'm hooked. I bought a book of puzzles from Borders and I've completed the first 9. And the trick isn't just looking for those sets of two that I mentioned before; you really need to be able to recognize the combinations of three numbers that make up 6, 7, 23, & 24. Or the four numbers that will add up to 10, 11, 29, & 30. Or the five numbers that....

Yeah. So I'm probably not going to stay hooked. I can solve the easy puzzles fairly quickly as long as I consult a chart of kakuro blocks first and make notes. If I don't do that, I keep wondering why I can't make 8+3+9 = 21.

Logic is easy. Arithmetic is hard. Still, if this keeps me from getting Alzheimer's disease, it's probably worth the private humiliation of not being able to do 2nd grade math in my head.

Oh Moses, Moses, you stubborn, splendid, adorable fool!

Mike had enjoyed watching The Ten Commandments at Easter/Passover before I met him, but I think it took the addition of me and our friend Julianna to turn this event into performance art. From the pompous introduction by Cecil B. DeMille to the reference to the Lost Ark of the Covenant at the end, this movie is one, long, participatory celebration for us. We eagerly await our favorite lines, delivered with gusto by this cast of brilliant hams. We cheer as Yul Brynner flourishes his cape, as Anne Baxter slinks and purrs and rages. We love how Charlton Heston over-pronounces his consonants when he says "God" (sounds like "ihGGahDDuh"). By the time we reach the Exodus, we're exhausted from laughter, and we usually watch much of the rest of the movie on fast forward. We pay no attention at all to the actual delivery of the 10 commandments; for us, the movie is effectively over when Rameses returns from the Red Sea, and instead of killing Nefretiri, drops into his throne, and the two stare blankly forward, defeated.

In 1995, Julianna showed up with a theme dessert: a Red Sea of Jello and Cool Whip, parted by a paper Moses standing at one end. The Jello creation immediately became the centerpiece of our holiday tradition. Most of these have been photographed,* so I have used them to create my first Flickr set. The exhibit is best viewed by scrolling to the bottom of the page and working your way up. Enjoy!

*Sadly, no photographic record remains of 2001's creation of the Hounds and Jackals board game, or of 1997, our one departure from "The Ten Commandments" to watch "Ben Hur" (Julianna created, of course, the chariot race in Jello).

Melpomene Socks

In her essay The Knitting Muse, the fabulous Brenda Dayne explores how each of the nine classical Muses watches over our knitting. So today, I want to give a shout out to Melpomene, muse of Tragedy.

She teaches humility, and will give you the courage to rip out large chunks of knitting, and help you appreciate that the best thing about knitting is that most errors are fixable. She wears a raglan garment that is knit from the top down, which she continues to rip out and rework, even as she wears it.

In honor of Melpomene, I wear this tragically ugly sock as I re-knit it.

Don't we experience tragedy because of our hubris? I thought I could cut out the short-row heel pick up the stitches, and knit an afterthought heel with no problem. I should've known better than to tempt the Fates with my o'er-weening pride. The first sock ended up too short, the heel instructions from the KnitPicks pattern resulting in a stunted little heel that clearly will not do.

Something went horribly wrong with picking up heel stitches for the second sock, and I somehow ended up with 70 stitches on my needles (instead of the expected 56). This would've left me with a bizarrely misshapen sock with a hunchback for a heel. Nothing to be done but start over.

But I think good will come of this. A new "Toe-Up Socks" class plan is forming in my head, one without the steep learning curve of my existing class.

Another action alert

The Human Right Campaign is alerting its troops that Senator Frist, prompted by Senator Santorum, intends to force a vote on the "Marriage Protection Amendment" in early June. We are all asked to take action.

I did, but I'm tired of this crap. So instead of leaving the HRC boilerplate text, I wrote this:

I have lived with and loved a man for fifteen years. This relationship shapes my life and gives it meaning. I cannot understand why anyone feels that this poses such a threat to the social order that it must be legally negated in the very document that makes our country real.

If my government honestly believes that I should be singled out for discrimination in the Constitution, then I see no choice but to seek citizenship elsewhere. I find this unutterably sad, because I love this country and the Constitutional principles that I believe make it great. I even had hope that the Federal Government would someday undo the discrimination now written into Ohio's Constitution. But a "Marriage Protection Amendment" mocks the call to establish justice and to secure the blessings of liberty. I will truly understand, then, that I am not welcome here.

I don't know which is worse: that our leaders are ignorant bigots, or that they're merely pandering to ignorant bigots to win elections.

Marital status

Back in the 1990's, when I was the manager of the library's children's department, a patron requested that we get the controversial book Daddy's Roommate. There's a picture in the book of the eponymous Daddy and Roommate sitting on the couch, watching TV, with a bowl of popcorn between them. "There," I said. "That's it. That's the real picture of the 'gay lifestyle.' And do you know what's on that TV? Mary Tyler Moore reruns."

Today I bought the third season of the Mary Tyler Moore Show on DVD, and when Amazon offered me a three month trial to their Amazon Prime service, I took them up on it. (I'm not sure it's going to be worth $79 a year, but three months of free two-day shipping? Seems worth a try.) Amazon says the benefit can be shared with "up to four family members living in the same household," so I followed the steps to invite Mike into the service. I was momentarily fearful when I saw I was going to have to label our relationship from a pre-arranged list, but I'm pleased that "Unmarried partner" is one of the options.

I hate forms that ask me for marital status. It's almost never relevant information, and there is seldom a selection that applies. (No, I'm not married; that's unconstitutional. But you can't seriously think I'm single; Mike and I have been together for nearly 16 years.) So hurray for Amazon.com. I'm almost grateful enough to pay them the $79 just for this momentary feeling of validation.