Two Black Sheep

When Did Your Heart Go Missing?

Remember when I asked how people find knitting patterns just a few days ago? I might have confessed that I only knit about 5% of the things that I dog-ear in knitting magazines (and that truth be told, is generous). That was before I saw the preview of IK's Fall issue. I think I might love: Freyja Sweater, Bandelier Socks (words defy how much I love these), Laporte Avenue Tote, Every Way Wrap, and Farmer's Market Cardigan. So, I think I need to run and buy a Power Ball ticket . . . too many knitting patterns and not enough time. 

Microphone

Dear Ava,

If you get a frantic call from SK & he explains that he found me Elvis-Style, don't let your mind wander.  It wasn't a drug overdose.  It wasn't from a good whack on the head.  It was plain ole Motherhood.  Tell him to not spend money on any fancy "How'd She Kick It" test.  Just calm him down & tell him I couldn't take it.  Tell him my mind just exploded from questions!  How'd that tree get there?  What does he want?  Milk? Juice?  How'd the baby get into the belly? Why do we have to eat? Are you poopy? Etc. Etc. Etc.

-Love,

Lola

Good god people!  Motherhood might kill me.  Sometimes I find myself wondering how I'm going to make it until they're both 18.  But after today, I might have figured something out.  It's something that everyone else has already been doing for years!  Something that our family thinks is an insane concept.  It's called the bathroom door!

Growing up, our bathroom doors only functioned as towel holders.  We never shut the door.  Locks, what?!  I think that our doors only started to close when the Husbands came around.  We'd carry on full conversation while peeing.  And when the husbands did come, anyone would still barge in to ask or get anything.  I still never shut the door, but that has to change.  Sure, Tuck is being helpful by giving me toilet paper.  Sure, Gus is trying to educate himself by asking  "How are basketballs made?"  But I don't need help getting paper and I don't even know how basketballs are made!  What I do need is some alone time.  And the bathroom is now going to function as my tiny little oasis.

My two projects are really boring to blog.  Ulmus is a clever little knit.  I love the slipped stitches & the color combo, but I've got a long way to go.  The Featherweight cardigan is finished to about 2 inches past the armholes.  So it's back n' forth from here out.  The Malabrigo Sock yarn is still delicious.  Every time I pick it up, I get excited to let it run through my fingers.  Ava is looking for some & I can only hope that she find a big stash of it here in Ohio.  Cause if she does, I'm adding some to my stash.

p.s.  I was going to mention this, but now it seems like a good idea since Ava added a new picture to our Flickr account.  Add us as a Flickr Contact & be entertained by some photos.  I've been using our Family account a lot lately, but there are some photos that might alarm our Family.  Even though the bathroom functions like the family room at our parents' house, Mom would still have some concerns seeing me sitting on the toilet with yarn at my feet.  She won't get it, so I'll save her from this photo.  She'd also be alarmed with this post.  "I never felt like that & I had 4 kids," is what she'd say.  Good for you.

That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore

How do you choose a knitting pattern? Do you obsess over the latest pattern until you find one just right? Spend time on Ravelry looking for "the" pattern? Do you go back to the same style over and over again? Or are you adventurous and try new things? Me? I can't put my finger on it. I love reading knitting magazines and pattern books, yet I knit about 5% of the things that I dog-ear. I spend lots of time on Ravelry and queue up patterns galore, but most of those never make it to the needles. And I am about as adventurous as they come where knitting is concerned . . . but going back to the same style over and over again? Large rectangular shaped knitting, I am your bitch.

If the date is correct in our Ravelry project section (and I have no reason to distrust it), I technically finished the Lady Eleanor Stole in less than a year. I say "technically" because I bought the yarn about two years before I cast on for the project. Shoot me . . . I was envious of Lola's Lady E and asked Mom for the same present for my birthday: a gift certificate to purchase the yarn at a huge discount. But still it sat in my yarn cabinet for almost two years just waiting to cast on for this project. Can you imagine? Twelve balls of Noro Silk Garden sitting idle . . . who does that? Apparently I do.

In August of 2008, I cast on for the stole for a class I was teaching. I knit and I knit and I knit and I got really, really bored. It was, after all, a very large rectangle, so I sat it aside in favor of other sweaters, socks, afghans, and probably the spare large rectangle (creature of habit that I am). And then three weeks ago, MaryAnn casually asked how my stole was going. "Oh, it's kind of stalled, but I have been thinking about it," I reply. What was said next, completely took my breath away (and not in the "Hello, I'm Clive Owen, and I appear to be standing in your kitchen in my knickers ready to make coffee for you" sort of way). "I just love entrelac. You know, I could finish it for you if you want," says MaryAnn.  Speechless . . . simply speechless . . . and it takes a lot to shut me up. It was the gauntlet being thrown: finish your own knitting or someone might willingly do it for you.

For three weeks, nothing else mattered. I ignored the pain in my left hand; I figured out how to pick up stitches backward; I entertained knitting advice from the Flyer. I was a woman possessed. Finish my knitting for me? Who does that? Apparently a good friend will, or she provides the fire that needs to be lit under your ass to get you motivated. I could say that MaryAnn knew that I would muster up the strength and finish the stole and that's why she said it. But truth be told . . . she really, really likes entrelac. Hell, the woman knit two Lady Eleanors (before I finished mine) and has knit countless purses using the technique. So I guess you could say, I really owe you one, MaryAnn. Hopefully you can provide that same enthusiasm for the current large rectangle that has been languishing on the needles: the Melon Shawl. After all, you're casting on this Tuesday evening - in the most gorgeous shade of gray that I've ever seen, by the way - and I have about twenty some repeats done on mine already. I'm sure you'll be asking if I want you to finish mine in about three months. 

Enjoy the weekend! I have a dinner with moms I have known since our children were in kindergarten tonight, a sock class and Crab Feast tomorrow, and a wine festival on Sunday. Considering our weekends are usually pretty dull, this one might be a bit of fun.

Ava

Against All Odds

I don't embarrass easily.  My face might turn red real quick, but I'm not embarrassed.  I took a lot of the I-Don't-Give-a-Fuck gene from my dad.  Actually I think that Ava & I snatched up all the IDGaF gene & left our siblings with nothing.  Other Sister might want some of this gene, but it isn't a great thing to have running through your veins.

I think that I fully shave (3 fingers past the knee) my legs twice a year.  I half-ass shave maybe 6 more times a year.  That's being generous.  Pedicured toes & well moisturized feet are not something that trek through my house.  Loud in a store?  Yep, that's me.  Poop conversations.  Yep, I'll have 'em with your Grandma.  An almost completed sweater that's just not "doing" it for me, I'll frog it & not think twice.  Most of the time I just don't give a fuck.

But lately, I've been feeling a new emotion.  There's something that the IDGaF gene hasn't attacked yet.  I feel very uncomfortable taking pictures.  I'm good when my kids are in the frame.  If they aren't there, I can't seem to take a picture without a lot of inner drama.  And if I do fire off a shot, I feel almost ridiculous posting the picture for friends & family.  Maybe it's because I really have no clue what I'm doing when it comes to taking pictures.  Maybe it's because I might have to defend why I choose to shoot a a coffee cup.  And my defense is always so simple: It was pretty.  Do people get that defense?

This emotion is troubling because I've been thinking a lot about photos.  When I'm on the road, I'll see a barn & think, "Look at the sky.  That'd be a nice photo."  Or "Hmm, that's an interesting sign I'd like to remember."  But when you don't have the IDGaF gene working in your favor, it makes whipping out a camera difficult.  Why would I worry about what strangers are thinking about the crazy woman & her camera?  I don't like this feeling.  I need to find that gene & show it the camera.

There must be something to cure this aliment.  Does it come in pill form?

L

Carpetbaggers

I got toys, people!  I never blogged about my birthday gift from SK & the boys.  It's really a shame because I love this bag.  Love isn't a word I usually use for this accessory.  Useful & durable are more my style.  Love is Ava's word for bags. 

I really needed a large bag that I could use for work & for off-hours (That makes me sound like a hooker, huh?).  Usually I have to toss my wallet, phone, & other essentials from bag to bag.  I got tired of the purse game.  I dropped hints & it arrived on my big day.  At first, I was disappointed.  I thought it'd be a little larger.  Maybe have more a divided center.  But it's olive green & that makes me happy beyond anything else.  Since I've been using it, I love the size & the vast inside.  It closes with a center magnetic button & then two more magnets that are in the lining of the opening.  You literally pull it apart & are greeted by a huge space.  My space can fit a pouch of toys, a pouch of essentials (lip-gloss, floss, hand sanitizer, etc), a couple diapers, a huge bib, sippy cup, small knitting pouch, wallet, phone, & a pile of old receipts.  As if that weren't enough, it comes with three more pockets to fill.  I'm also sure my newest toy will fit nicely in it.  Especially since it's mounted with another gift.  More on that later.  I've got some pictures to take!

Eat It

Sticking to the food theme of last week's post, I thought I'd share.  It's probably one of the most delicious looking food blogs I've ever tripped over.

L

p.s. Start thinking of menus for your visit.

Sweet Lady Mary

I told Ava today that if the doctor diagnoses Tuck as having Manic Depression, I will not be surprised.  She called yesterday at dinner time & could tell that it was an awful time.  Why?  Simple.  It was dinner time of course!  For the past two weeks, this is a typical dinner time routine at Chez Lola.

Lola cooks a lovely meal for her family.  She takes the time to make sure that it isn't only good, but healthy.  Tamale Pie was on the menu tonight.  The picture doesn't do this dish justice.  Hell, the scoop onto the plate doesn't do anything for this dish.  But it's satisfying & yummy.  Click the picture & book details are on Flickr.

In Tuck's defense, he's already flipping out before he's put in the highchair.  Full on pissy & it's outta no where.  Hence the Manic reference.  No milk.  No water.  Nothing makes him happy.  Even getting him out of the chair, gets him more angry.  But once you put the bowl down, it's on.  The screams are louder.  The tears fall faster.  Thankfully, he only pushes the bowl away.  I guess throwing is only reserved for when he's actually taken a couple bites & deems himself stuffed.

And then, blammo!  He stops crying.  Dips a finger into the dinner.  Eats a smidge of food & says, "Yumm."  He's laughing.  Smiling.  Shoves more food into his mouth with louder "Yums."  Back to normal. 

During all of this, we have Gus to deal with.  Everything is "Yucky" before he takes a bite.  Once a bite has been taken, it is always followed with "This is good, Mom."  But it's getting a bite into his little mouth.  Most nights, he'll sneak two bites, declares himself finished, & ask for a cookie.  Last week, we had a ten minute stand-off.  Didn't even take one bite of dinner.  I wasn't budging.  He finally brought his plate over to the sink & said, "I don't even want the cookie."  He's been a dinner skipper since he was Tuck's age, so I'm not worry or even challenge him much.  But hearing, "Yuck" without a bite can still sting. 

And this is where my day ends.  They're digging in a dirt pile.  We were only outside for a couple minutes before Tuck was attacked by bugs.  They adore his little face.  Gus is looking for pinecones. And I'm working on my next baby gift.  Design F from Sidar 337 Little Speckled Chicks book.  I love the stitch pattern, but hate the yarn.  More on that nugget later.  I've got to clean some Tamale off my face.

Lola

That's How People Grow Up

The camera is not being cooperative today (probably because the battery light keeps blinking at me and I am being daft), so I have no photographs of FOs to show you . . . no Bella's Mittens, no new tattoo - both amazing, by the way, but you'll have to take my word for it. I'll get photos after the batteries are charged up, and I retake the ones that were deleted but not saved when the spinning pinwheel of death appeared on the Mac and I shut if off in desperation. Edit: Take that stupid battery charger! Photos at last!

Bella's Mittens, not so practical in July

Steph had this on her blog two days ago, and I have to say, I love it no matter how many times this little meme seems to circulate on the Interweb. Maybe it's because I love music, maybe it's because it's simplistic in nature, maybe because it's just fun . . . do I really need a reason?

Anyway, consider yourselves all tagged. If you choose to play, leave us a comment with a link. We're always looking for new tunes. Here are the rules: Turn on your MP3 player or iTunes on the computer. Go to "shuffle songs" mode. Write down the first 15 songs that come up--song title and artist. No editing/cheating, please. Edit for our blog: the 16th song is the title of this post, which seems fair considering that all of our blog post titles are song titles, and it's by the uber-sublime Morrissey, one of the few artists I've ever regretted not seeing in concert.

"Uniform" by Bloc Party
"White Christmas" by Bing Crosby
"Squeezebox (Live)" by The Who
"Stay (Faraway, So Close!) [Underdog Mix]" by U2
"Satin Chic" by Goldfrapp
"Next Year Baby" by Jamie Cullum
"40 Years Back Come" by Royksopp
"Youthless" by Beck
"Amazon" by M. I. A.
"Smoke (Live)" by Ben Folds
"Mr. Bartender" by Sugar Ray
"The Real Slim Shady" by Eminem
"On Bended Knees" by Boyz II Men
"Sleep With Your Eyes Open" by Borne
"Belief" by John Mayer

Sweet Peas . . . and yes, they do look very "feminine"

My only surprise? There wasn't more U2 or any Britney . . . that shocked the hell out of me. Only one of these really embarrasses me - any guesses?

Ava

PS - Song 17 was "Sweetest Decline" by Beth Orton, who has a voice that could soothe the most savage beast (or small infant).

Blame It

Betty left for her orientation at Temple on Monday afternoon (Veronica has hers on the 13th  . . it's a long story). I wanted to take the train with the girls so that we could acclimate ourselves to the location of the stop. What is it that they say about the best laid plans? Don't they usually come back and bite you in the ass? We hit construction and some rather bizarre directions from Mapquest, but still I persevered in the hopes of catching the 1:53 train in Lansdale. We arrived at 1:59. Luckily, Lola was at home to help with some directions because a 15-year-old map doesn't alway cut it. Granted, we took the most roundabout way of getting there, but we did eventually arrive on time (truth be told, we were a little ahead of schedule). So far, so good . . .  but I wound up deciding to buy a GPS unit after the debacle.

The Melon Shawl makes a reappearance

GPS? Odd little bit of technology. Veronica and I decided to let it guide us home. Our first quirk was the street Margate Hill. Huh? There is no street by that name, but Serena, our lovely guide, instructed us to turn into a nursery and proceed up that hill. Ummm, no. I have a feeling that it will take some getting used to. The thing that really bothered me was the lack of a case. This thing is so thin that I can use it when I am "exploring" other cities (and not calling Lola for directions), but throwing it into my purse without a case might prove the screen's downfall. I could buy one that is hideous and expensive . . . OR . . . I could knit one for it. So, I knit one, and I think it turned out pretty nice.

GPS Cozy being, well, cozy

This is the summer for forgotten knits and the Melon Shawl is taking center stage. I adore the yarn (what's not to love with Habu Cashmere), and the pattern is so damn easy to memorize. I'm about half way through and should finish that part of it over the holiday weekend. The edging takes some time but nothing major. The shop is having a book read for Summer on Blossom Street as well as a knit-along of the cable sampler scarf. I decided to use stash yarn (Louet Gems Fingering that was intended for knee socks . . . go ahead, have a laugh), and it is amazing. The stitch definition can't be beat, and the cables really pop. No clue what will happen to this scarf once I am done, but all in all a very fun knit (and a fun little book).

My favorite is the third one

We had horrible storms go through the area last Friday, and the clouds were something out of a sci-fi movie. I couldn't resist taking some photos . . . even as the little voice in my head was saying, "Umm, don't you remember all those stories about people being struck by lightning doing something dumb like this." Totally worth it!

Ava