Deathmarch 2010 begins!

So clearly I'm insane. Not only have I decided that I will follow Elizabeth Bear's excellent example and complete a draft of the diss by Mar. 1st, but I have also signed up for the Knitting Olympics run by this knitting icon/fellow insane knitter. My project, you ask? Well it's this one: Lloie's Cardigan. Because I had such a great time with my last bout of color work that I decided to do another one...this time with steeks. In 17 days. And I haven't even ordered the pattern yet. While writing. Yeah. I'm nuts. In other, long-overdue news, there's been some snow, and some sweaters, and other things. Blogger is being rather annoying and not letting me upload photos of said snow and sweaters, so stay tuned and wish me luck!

Not as close as you might think

When I originally checked the mileage charts for the journey from Bag End to Rivendell, I saw "Buckleberry Ferry" and thought that...for no reason I can now fathom...that it was 18 miles from Bag End to the Ferry. I chuckle at my poor map reading and distance calculation skills. Chuckle with despair. 18 miles was what Frodo and Sam covered in their first DAY. It has taken me a week to walk what they did before they had even warmed up. I am humbled. And daunted. Just a bit though mind you. I have now made it a grand total of 21.25 miles...the road is dipping up and down and I'm still 48.75 miles out from the ferry. Just the ferry. I still have 437 miles to go to see Eldrond. But that's motivation enough.

Art, Lies and Truth-or what I did this weekend

“Art is a lie that makes us realize truth.”-Pablo Picasso

While I'm not a huge Picasso fan, I definitely appreciate his vision. Making us see things from different perspectives is necessary. Forcing us to see several perspectives at once: genius. I do not find this particular brand of genius aesthetically pleasing, but since when are aesthetics a prerequisite here? I mention this for several reasons. First, our house guest. We have a young visitor with us for the next couple of weeks. This weekend we took her to see some of the "highlights" of our region. Among them: the new silver show at Winterthur, the Philadelphia Zoo, and Dolphin watching at Cape May, NJ. She is 13 going on 25 and thinks she is brazilliant in all things. In some areas I don't disagree. The kid's damn skippy smart. But she's also a nascent teenager and prone to those fits and starts of teenage angst that (I'm quite sure) make otherwise well-balanced, sane parents everywhere want to rip their hair out and throw things. I spent hours and hours touring her all over Winterthur, inside and out, trying to show her why I do what I do and why I think it deserves the years of my life I have devoted to it. What was her response: "kewel, but I liked the Enchanted Woods best. "Now, don't get me wrong, when I was 13 I would have said exactly the same thing. exactly. I would have resented all attempts to push me out of my carefully chosen and well-polished shell. At least something connected, right? But it made me want to scream. She went through the silver exhibit and the period rooms so fast it made my head spin. meh. But she saw the magic in the woods, so I really can't argue too much. It's all in your point of view. We went to the zoo, spent umpty-ump dollars to wander around and peer through cages at poor, pacing creatures who deserve so much more than flash bulbs exploding in their sensitive faces, saw gorgeous birds, pro-simians, frolicking river otters, and what does she like best? the vampire bats feeding. yep. teenage angst in bucket loads. In all fairness, the bats were pretty cool. I can't post my pics here because I didn't get permission from the zoo to do so, but I did get a fabulous shot of a bat, snout raised from it's petrie dish of blood, baring its wee fangs at me. I won't even discuss the day at Cape May because I'm already sick of myself whining about this. I LOVE this kid. She's creative, smart, funny and full of it. I'm so happy she's out here with us for awhile, but is it so very much to ask for just one little "thank you?" My rational self is now screaming "but the look on her face IS that thank you, you idiot!" and rational self is right. It is. We had a great fourth of july weekend, watched dolphins peer up at us from a steel grey ocean as pale poufs of jellyfish burbled by, sat in the evenmist as the sky flamed orange, gold and green, and gorged on pizza while playing Harry Potter trivia. I hope you and yours had half as much fun. Alter the gaze, bend your mind, accept and enjoy; these were my mantras this weekend. Thanks Picasso! Oh, and there was spinning: my first day of the Tour de Fleece. Sorry about the graininess, I'm blogging at midnight. Hard to get natural light at this time of day. *snorg* I have no idea what the wpi is on this. I spun it long draw and was gauging it by feel. Alden Amos would be so very mad at me. I'm not sure it will match what I already have. I sure hope so. From what I remember about this fiber (I really need to start keeping a spinning journal..oh, wait, that's why I started the blog. right.) it fluffs a great deal with a good whacking. Half a bobbin that reminded me why I put this roving down again and again. My hands hurt. Merino shouldn't make yer paws ache, my friends. But I'm reasonably pleased with the consistency. Reasonably. I really wish I could go to SOAR this autumn and take Abby Franquemont's workshop. *drool* That woman is a master. Just looking at her yarn makes me want to weep. Especially when I then examine what's sitting on my own bobbin. I'll try to re-orient my thinking: this is inspiration! Soak in the genius. Soak it I say! In this case, I think her yarn begs to differ with Picasso. Silk that fine is truth and art, my dear woolly friends. There's simply no way to hide a lie in good spinning. At least not that I've been able to find. And now, sweet readers, good night.

ice trumps knitting and please pat the bunny

It was just a little bit of ice really. I managed to drive into the museum just fine. It was SnB day, after all. You see, my dear ones, I somehow did not get the message that we were closed. So there I was, pulling into the ghosttown of a parking lot, wondering why I snagged such a prime parking spot, since we were supposed to open at 11. But the ice won, keeping all my new knitting buddies snuggled at home with their needles. And so I walked in, focused on turning the second heel of my Baudelaires, heedless to the imminent danger of falling icicles, sleet, and potential felting. I actually made it all the way to my desk, turned on my computer and only then realized that no. one. was. coming. For a brief, shining moment I considered doing the right thing...staying and actually getting some work done. But then the golden glow of my addi turbos shone forth from the depths of my purse and broke the computer's spell. I could be home knitting after all! I packed up, shoved my feet back into boots, slapped my fuzzy hat on and tredged all the way back to my car. Hey, at least I got a sweet parking spot!

I may actually get some work done this afternoon...on the diss...not the socks. Since the sock progress is rather boring, I give you something I picked up in an antique store while visiting my family over the holidays. It's a child's hankie with just about the cutest bunny ever appliqued on one corner. For a dollar, my friends, one smackaroo. So worth it. I am completely infatuated with this bunny. I want to wear it everywhere. It may become my new ravelry avatar. He's that cute. So enjoy, pat the bunny, snuggle with your kitties and other loved ones, pick up those needles and knit a little for me. I'm plunging neck-deep into grant applications.

musing and WIPS

I've been thinking about choices. Right now I'm choosing to sit here and type out random nerve firings straight from my brain to the keyboard rather than work on my article or my dissertation or knit. It's a very odd process for me to choose to blog about knitting rather than to knit, yet here I am. I made significant progress on the hedera socks for mom--I'm almost to the toe of the second sock..progress pics this weekend..and I'm working on the handle of Rusty's bag. Progress in casa de spinningleaves!
I am desperately awaiting the arrival of a new battery for my ipod, an absolute necessity for my work. I depend on this little gadget more than just about any other piece of technology except for the computer and the car. and the stove. and the refrigerator. ok, so we live in a world where moving off-grid or living without tech is not really an option unless you want to make it a full-time job. While I think I would sincerely enjoy that, it would only last about a week, then I would want my vacuum and my coffeemaker. I think studying the 16th and 17th centuries makes me value these amazing gizmos all the more. Back to the ipod. I have (aside from the requisite music) stored my entire dissertation on there; all my references, categorized by a wonderful little program called zotero--check it out, it's worth it!; all my linked notes; even pdfs of articles I'm reading. I LOVE this little thing. But the battery is shot, which makes working with it rather challenging. So I'm sitting here knitting, smelling the pumpkin bread baking, and working on this post rather than writing.
Many people, from my advisor to my father (himself a PhD), have told me that the dissertation is a marathon. I'm beginning to think it's more like making cookies. This may have been inspired by the harlot's latest post, so bear with me. I am always really excited about eating the gooey warm cookies fresh from the oven. The thought of them melting on my tongue is what sends me scurrying for the flour, eggs, and vanilla. I faithfully measure, beat, scoop, and pre-heat. I'm proud of my attention to detail, knowing that it will affect the end product. Yet by the time I'm greasing the sheet and scooping the dough out, I'm already cramming bites of it into my mouth. Usually only about half of it makes it in the oven. By the time the cookies are ready I don't even really want one. And that's kind of where I stand with the diss right now. I'm cramming enormous and fascinating quantities of data down my gullet. I'm so full of data I don't even want to write. Apparently what I'm revealing to all 1 of my readers is that I have low impulse control and I may never finish the diss. Goddess only knows how I actually knit anything, let alone wait through the process of spinning the yarn I'm knitting. I think that's enough soul-baring and metaphors for one day. Look for pics this weekend!

spinning leaves first post

Greetings to all two of you who might read this! I'm up and, well, not really running...more like barely shuffling my feet. But I'm here! woo hoo!